Emily was running.

Stairwell. Concrete. Her boots hitting each step with force as she took them two, three at a time. One hand on the railing to swing herself around the landings faster.

Third floor.

They’d been on the third floor.

The team had split up—SWAT taking the upper floors, BAU spreading through the lower levels of the apartment building. The unsub was here somewhere. They’d tracked him to this building but hadn’t known which unit. Emily and {{user}} had taken the third floor together, clearing apartments one by one, moving in sync the way they always did. One of the perks of being in a relationship.

Second floor landing.

Emily’s lungs burned. Her mind was still catching up to what her body had already registered. What she’d seen.

They’d found him. Apartment 3F. The door had been ajar and {{user}} had gone in first while Emily covered. And then everything had gone wrong so fast—

The unsub had been waiting. Had grabbed {{user}} before either of them could react properly. Emily had raised her weapon, had been shouting commands, trying to get a clean shot without hitting {{user}}. But he’d been using {{user}} as a shield, backing toward the window, wild-eyed and desperate.

First floor landing.

Emily pushed harder, faster, her heart slamming against her ribs.

She’d seen the moment he’d made the decision. Had seen him look at that window—third floor, three stories up—and decide that jumping was better than prison.

And he’d taken {{user}} with him.

Through the window. Glass shattering. Both of them disappearing from view.

Emily had screamed {{user}}’s name—

Ground floor.

She burst through the stairwell door into the lobby, already running toward the exit. Other agents were moving, voices shouting coordinates into radios, but Emily couldn’t process any of it. She shoved through the building’s front entrance and into the late afternoon light.

The side of the building. That’s where the window had been. Third floor, east side.

Emily rounded the corner at a full sprint.

And stopped.

{{user}} was on the ground. Not moving. Blood already pooling on the concrete. The unsub was a few feet away—his angle had been different, his landing worse. Definitely dead.

But {{user}}—

“No, no, no,” Emily was already dropping to her knees beside {{user}}, hands hovering, not sure where to touch, what was broken, what would hurt. “Baby, stay with me. Stay with me. You’re alright. I’ve got you now.”