You had gone alone to an older crime scene to collect any evidence that may have been missed from the Fisher King case, when your phone rang. It was Hotch, his voice came through the phone, trying his best to remain calm, although you could hear the panic eating through. When you heard what he said, your stomach dropped to your feet. Elle had been shot. In her own house. In the chest. You could only think of one thing, and that was getting to the hospital as fast as you could.

You immediately hung up the phone and practically dived into your car, speeding off to the hospital, breaking numerous traffic laws, but you didn't care. You just needed to get to Elle.

You didn't even know how long you'd been driving. You could barely see the road, your eyes were blurry with tears, that you had tried to hold back. What you did know, was that you were running countless red lights. You didn't, usually, but you had no time to lose.

The next thing you knew, you heard a loud smash as you sped through another light. Your vision went black as your ears began to ring. Damn it. You heard the distant sound of an ambulance siren, you couldn't really tell what was going on, but you knew you were hurt. You felt it in your head, as well as the warm, sticky substance running down your face that you could only assume was blood. The whole next few minutes was a blur, you vaguely felt yourself being put on a stretcher and driven to the hospital, as well as the sound of medical staff around you. You tried adjusting to your surroundings, but before you knew it, you were too dizzy to focus on anything and your eyes slowly shut.

When they opened, the first thing you felt was a stabbing pain in your head. You saw a nurse walk in, a smile on her face, presumably about to ask you how you felt, but you needed one thing more than ever.

"Is Elle okay?" you said as you sat up, ignoring the pain in your head.

"I'm sorry?" the nurse replied, looking vaguely confused, as she placed her clipboard down and started checking your vitals.