Back in the building, Hotch wanted to hear the connection you made from Henry to Jessica and validated it dearly. Staying rather quiet, you stood cross-armed staring at the floor, biting the inside of your cheek. It was no surprise who was observing you the entire time.
[ 'You need to put the knife down. Please, put it down, and we can watch a movie; would you like that?' you said, degrading your tone so that he would understand. No, he clutched the knife harder, and you lost all hope as he restlessly swung his arm around, the tip of the blade slicing the palm of your hand. 'I'm sorry Genie. I'm sorry, sorry, he's sorry!' 'It's fine, just go in there,' you ordered, and he left the kitchen. This was the third time that week. ]
Thoughts overwhelmed you, distracted you from the evidence. You had to go.
'Excuse me,' you said, nudging past Hotch and leaving the building. Carrying on the briefing with not one, but two Agents gone, Hotch followed you out and into the cold. Growing up in this part of the state until you were hired at the BAU meant the area was familiar. You were nowhere to be seen.
'Is that your signature drink?' a familiar voice pointed towards the whisky on the rocks with a twist, untouched in front of you.
'How did you know?' you raised an eyebrow at Rossi, he laughed slightly.
'Just thought I'd come and tell you we're meeting at 9am in the morning. We'll plan how to get Mayers into the building from there,' he said.
'He won't go for her during the school day. Maybe around 5pm. That's when he used to stay with her for counselling. They would draw pictures for the girls' bathroom,' you said, thinking it would be relevant.
'I'll tell Hotch,' he said, getting up.
'You do that,' you scoffed, swigging the whisky down with a burn.
Prentiss and JJ had just rung from Parsons' house, saying she wasn't there. She must still be at the school. You had set up a decoy receptionist to let Mayers in when he got there, saying Jessica was waiting for him. Two standard blackout cars rolled to a halt outside of the school where the three other agents and you got out, vests going on- guns loaded. Remember, he finds comfort in her. Where will he go? It's his memories; the girls' bathroom. What's the catch? Oh, he's afraid of guns. Holding a gun in his face with FBI printed on a vest would spook him. He would shoot.
'I think I should go in there and negotiate with him,' Hotch looked at you in bewilderment at the thought.
'Beck, I don't think that's-'
'He's afraid of guns and will panic if we send armed men in there. Please, Hotch. Let me do this,' you pleaded to him; he should trust you at least this once.
'Alright, but I want your earpiece in the whole time. Do you understand me?' he said, knowing disobeying could mean another plane talk, or worse, your badge. Taking the vest off and handing your gun to Reid.
'Hey, it'll be fine Hotch. Just...don't forget me, okay?' you reassured, checking your earpiece and moving in. He smiled half-heartedly as you turned away from him. In truth, Aaron Hotchner was scared. And he had every right to be- hindsight would've been a wonderful thing.
'I want full eyes on her. Get Garcia to let us have full security camera access, immediately,' he ordered. A red, rusty door creaked open and the whole building was empty. It was just you and him. You could do this. The earpiece rustled and Hotch began speaking.
'Beck, if you can hear me, turn to face that camera on your right,' which you did, 'We've just got word that Jessica Parsons has been located. She left early today,' Thank god.
He was obviously in the girl's bathroom, he had come back to his roots for comfort; you pointed at the door to the bathroom so Hotch could see from the outside, if anything should happen where he needs to move in. Your earpiece was removed.
'Henry?' you said, startling a deranged man kneeling on the floor; he was tacking up drawings. Who would've thought this man could've shot an officer and two adults?
'Henry, my name is Beck. I've come to talk to you,' you stalled, 'about your drawings,' Saved.
'They're pretty,' he stated, 'They make me and Jessica happy, oh yes they do,' he spoke to himself.
'That's good. But guns, they don't make you happy do they, Henry?'
'Guns? Oh no. No, no. Guns are bad. People, they try to hurt me. Very bad.'
'I don't have a gun, Henry. I don't want to scare you. I don't like being scared either,' you reassured, but what you were unaware of, was Hotch outside who was beginning to boil over.
'Hotch, we have to let her negotiate him out, it's the only way,' Morgan said, placing a hand out to halt Aaron.
'We know he has violent outbursts and she's in there with no weapon or protection,' he retorted, breaking past Derek and entering the building with his gun drawn.
'So, Henry,' you added, calmly, 'Why are you holding a gun?'
Hotch made his way up to the security camera and stood outside of the bathroom, sweating profusely. He heard you calmly negotiating Henry to leave the gun and join you, so he could see Jessica. It wasn't enough; the last straw for Hotch was hearing the click of the gun being loaded.
'What do you say? We can leave the bathroom and show Jessica your new drawings. Does that sound good?' you beckoned.
'It does,' he began, making you think it was over, 'But you're lying,' and the gun clicked.
'FBI, don't move!' Aaron ordered, and the world went slow. Turning, Hotch was there and he had his gun pointed at you. Why is he aiming at me? But this sound, it came from both behind and in front of you; still staring at your boss as the deafening thoughts and ringing became crippling. He took a step towards you, but your legs wouldn't hold and you fell. The ground was cold, but his hand was holding your head up, the other pressed firmly against your waist. It felt as if the life was draining out of you. It was, in the form of blood. Hotch was shouting behind him, and to the right you could see Henry, lying on the floor too. The sounds were less faint now, but everything blurred, and you cried.
'Aaron...Aaron I think I'm dying,' you said in broken phrases.
'You'll be fine. Come on, you'll be okay,' he smiled at you, holding your head close to his own. He was fading, you wanted to stay with him, 'I need an ambulance!' he shouted through his earpiece, 'No, no, no, Beck, you're staying with me, do you hear me? You're not going anywhere. Stay with me, Gene,' he soothed both you and himself. I want to stay with you, Hotch, I'm trying. Can't you see that?
And he was gone.
'I've got you; I've got you. Come on Beckett, please!' the same words rang through your ears over and over, the bright lights shone and blinded you deeply, burning your eyes, but it was not the only burning you felt. Oh, the infamous red- it was all over the table and all over Hotch; his hands, his shirt, anywhere it could be- it was. He was holding your own hand as you tried to speak, letting you know he was there as if he'd lost the words too, when a nurse rushed from behind a desk.
'Oh god, not her again,' the nurse sympathetically murmured, Hotch furrowed his eyebrow as he caught what she said, 'Sir, you need to stay back,' the nurses tried to comfort him.
He was adamant, 'No, please,' he paused and must've flashed his badge, 'I'm an FBI agent please, let me go with her,' and it pained you to hear him so frantic, 'Is she going to be alright?' he asked, but truthfully, the nurses couldn't say. Rossi pried him back, wrestling his arms behind him, as if he was an unsub; but Hotch broke free and slammed a fist into the wall, where a faint red patch was left. Rossi stared at the blood, your blood on his hands from the shirt, and gave a glance to Morgan who noticed the crimson marks too. His phone buzzed.
'Why are you at the hospital? Is everything okay? Derek Morgan don't you dare tell me you've done something stupid or I will-'
'Babygirl, I'm fine. Its Beck, she was shot.'
Morgan heard Garcia's voice shake, quivering out a shy, 'Oh god', and ending the call. Morgan knew she'd be there shortly; next Rossi's cell rang.
'They need us,' he said, looking directly at Hotch, who was crumpled on the floor, holding his head shamefully.
'Go,' he let out a monotone order, and the two other agents left the corridor in seconds.