Alaska: Chapter 4
Title: Alaska
Author: ficdirectory
Characters: Emily, Team
Word Count: 10K - Chapter 4/7
Warnings/Spoilers/Rating: Disaster/Episode 5x21, "Exit Wounds"/FRT.
Summary/Prompt: The floatplane crashes on the way back from Alaska.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the CBS-owned characters mentioned. Not written for profit.
Notes: Written for nannerz2cool for her donation to ontd_ai's Dollar Drive for Japan.
But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for.
- Paulo Coelho
Spending a night in the Alaskan wilderness with burns and smoke inhalation is like suffering in a special circle of hell, where your flesh is simultaneously sizzling and freezing. Luckily, Emily has had plenty of experience with suffering. Voluntary and otherwise.
She smells earth and cold around her, and tries not to let the fact that Rossi is wrapped around her for body heat put her off. Body heat is a necessity, and because she cannot move or be moved, and cannot stand the sight of the campfire, this is the next best thing. Despite the fact that Garcia has passed along three spare pairs of pants, three shirts and a blanket to keep her warm.
Outside, she can hear them talking. She tries to tell Rossi to go ahead, too. "I don't need a baby-sitter..." she grumbles. Really, she just needs a minute to herself so she can let off some stress and not feel weak about it. She has a feeling Rossi would be okay with seeing her cry, but she would feel more comfortable if she were alone.
"Are you warm enough?" he asks, holding her a little tighter.
She winces as her leg is jostled the tiniest bit. "Yeah," she grinds the word out between clenched teeth. "Listen. It's really fine. I'll be okay for a few minutes. Why don't you go powwow with them and figure out what the hell we're gonna do, and then come back and tell me?"
He hesitates then, she can feel it in his quiet behind her.
"I'll send JJ in," he decides, and Emily bristles.
"Don't. I don't need company. I need quiet," she insists, biting off the words.
"All right," Rossi concedes softly and makes his way outside.
When he is far enough away, Emily lets the tears fall, keeping her back to the fire and the group outside her dwelling. She bites her lip. She keeps it quiet. But the truth is, her leg is killing her. And she has to give herself a few minutes to panic. To grieve. To entertain the possibility of what might happen, if only so she can prepare herself mentally for having to endure it.
Because what if they don't make it out? What if they're never found? Alaskan wilderness is nothing if not remote. What if infection sets into her leg? Rossi and JJ have done their best to keep it clean but Emily is realistic. There's the possibility of infection. Shock. Exposure. There are a million ways she can die out here, and Emily is not ready.
She has found something she truly loves doing. People she honestly likes being around. They are like family. She does not know what she will do if anything happens to any of them, so Emily concentrates. She sucks it up, and she makes a choice. She will die. Everybody will, sometime. But Emily decides that she is not dying tonight. She is staying alive.
She takes a deep breath and shakes her head, composing herself a long time before Rossi rejoins her.
--
“So, what’s the latest?” Rossi asks.
“A pencil impaled Hotch in the thigh,” Spencer volunteers, sounding impressed.
“Would you shut up about the pencil?” JJ asks irritably. Emily imagines her tense as she tends to Spencer. To Hotch. To everyone but herself. She remembers JJ coming in for gauze, with tears still drying on her face. “You’re one to talk, anyway," JJ continues, talking to Spencer. "You have a seriously nasty head-wound…”
“It’s probably not as bad as it looks. Head lacerations bleed more than injuries to other parts of the body, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re more severe,” Emily can hear Spencer’s quiet confidence - the way he clings to facts - in the face of so much unknown.
“Nothing,” Hotch says. He answers Rossi's earlier question sounding uncharacteristically shaken. “How’s Emily?”
“I can hear you!” Emily calls, equal parts pain and fierceness lacing her voice.
She imagines the perplexed and amused look Rossi is giving them and a thin smile stretches her mouth, despite her current situation.
“She can hear us,” Rossi passes along, matter-of-factly. “Emily?” he asks loudly. “How are you?”
“Fine!” she insists, despite the fact that she is sweating, experiencing the most intense throbbing she has ever known. “Now let’s make a plan and get the hell out of here!”
“Okay,” Derek jumps into the conversation, and Emily is glad. He seems to be the one keeping his head the most through this mess. “Well, thanks to Garcia we’ve got food, water… We’ve got shelter. Those are the most important things.”
“What about rescue?” Garcia asks, giving a voice to Emily’s most pressing concern.
“We can’t control that,” Derek says simply.
“I know that, but how long can we survive out here, on what we’ve got?”
“Most doctors and nutritionists agree people can go anywhere from four to six weeks without food as long as they are well-hydrated. Of course, that depends on various factors, such as overall health, body weight, genetics and environment…but a person can only go about three days without water. That would be our most pressing need at the moment,” Spencer fills in, yelping in pain. Emily imagines JJ disinfecting the gash on his head.
“Sorry,” JJ murmurs.
“Let’s just take one thing at a time.” Derek encourages.
--
Outside, their voices have carried in, along with a cold that seeps into Emily’s bones. Helpless, she reaches out to pack Garcia’s extra clothes tighter around her. If nothing else, she should insulate her femoral artery the best she can, so that she can stay as warm as possible, for as long as possible.
Like an answer to a prayer Emily hasn’t said, JJ crawls inside and moves alongside her, putting an arm across her chest.
Because Emily is not ready to talk, she feigns sleep, though it’s hard with the searing pain and the cold competing for her attention.
”You okay?” JJ asks, her voice low and nearly a whisper, but not quite. She asks like she expects Emily to answer. Like she doesn’t believe for a second that Emily is sleeping.
There is a comfort in JJ’s embrace, a relief in knowing a friend is nearby. Someone Emily can potentially be vulnerable around, if it comes to that. Hell, it was JJ who tried to get her out of the plane. It was JJ who practically dragged Emily along to an opening - any opening - and kept contact, even after she freed herself. If Emily could endure that kind of torture and still have JJ beside her now, offering support… Well, that’s something. She may be young, but JJ’s strong.
Still, Emily doesn’t stir. She waits.
“You’re not,” JJ sighs, knowing. “You’re not because I’m not either. We’re not gonna survive a month-and-a-half out here… Emily, I can’t do this…”
Just like that, JJ’s voice breaks. Just like that, there are more tears. Honest tears. The kind Emily needed privacy to shed. But JJ is a little braver.
“Garcia almost died on that case…running out to help somebody who was hurt. Now? We’re gonna die! Now…we’re God-knows-where, and I don’t know what to expect. I hate it out here. I’m… God, Emily… I’m scared, okay?”
JJ’s breath is warm on the edges of Emily’s ear. Slowly, she moves her own fingers so they are intertwined with JJ’s. So she will feel less alone.
“Me, too.”
“Faker,” JJ manages, forcing a laugh. “I knew you weren’t asleep.”
“I don’t think any of us are going to sleep tonight…” Emily ventures, wincing as pain rips through her. JJ squeezes her hand.
Silence falls around them, but it has no weight. No warmth. Maybe that’s why JJ fills it. Maybe that’s why she chooses to tell Emily what she does. It leaves her speechless, like so much of what JJ has admitted so far.
“You remind me of my sister…” JJ confesses.
“I…didn’t know you had a sister,” Emily admits, feeling surprise ripple through her. JJ is so self-sufficient. So similar to Emily, herself, that she has been sure for all these years that JJ grew up an only child.
Emily opens her eyes, and tries to find JJ’s face in the darkness. She can see almost nothing thanks to the distant fading firelight. But JJ’s voice is thick with emotion.
“I do…I did… You’re about the same age as she was…”
Emily is holding her breath and she doesn’t know why. She doesn’t ask what happened, because she can hear the cracks in JJ’s voice. The wounds that are not even close to healed. So, instead, Emily listens, using all the energy she might have put toward her pain, to just be here for someone else.
“She…hated the outdoors, but I loved it. I always asked her to have campouts with me. Not sleepovers. Campouts. In the living room. In the back yard. Wherever. The last time I did this…curled up next to somebody in a tent? I was ten. A few months later, she committed suicide. I was home at the time, but our parents weren‘t. I couldn’t save her.”
Silently, Emily squeezes the hand in her own.
“You saved me,” she tells JJ softly.
Author: ficdirectory
Characters: Emily, Team
Word Count: 10K - Chapter 4/7
Warnings/Spoilers/Rating: Disaster/Episode 5x21, "Exit Wounds"/FRT.
Summary/Prompt: The floatplane crashes on the way back from Alaska.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the CBS-owned characters mentioned. Not written for profit.
Notes: Written for nannerz2cool for her donation to ontd_ai's Dollar Drive for Japan.
But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for.
- Paulo Coelho
Spending a night in the Alaskan wilderness with burns and smoke inhalation is like suffering in a special circle of hell, where your flesh is simultaneously sizzling and freezing. Luckily, Emily has had plenty of experience with suffering. Voluntary and otherwise.
She smells earth and cold around her, and tries not to let the fact that Rossi is wrapped around her for body heat put her off. Body heat is a necessity, and because she cannot move or be moved, and cannot stand the sight of the campfire, this is the next best thing. Despite the fact that Garcia has passed along three spare pairs of pants, three shirts and a blanket to keep her warm.
Outside, she can hear them talking. She tries to tell Rossi to go ahead, too. "I don't need a baby-sitter..." she grumbles. Really, she just needs a minute to herself so she can let off some stress and not feel weak about it. She has a feeling Rossi would be okay with seeing her cry, but she would feel more comfortable if she were alone.
"Are you warm enough?" he asks, holding her a little tighter.
She winces as her leg is jostled the tiniest bit. "Yeah," she grinds the word out between clenched teeth. "Listen. It's really fine. I'll be okay for a few minutes. Why don't you go powwow with them and figure out what the hell we're gonna do, and then come back and tell me?"
He hesitates then, she can feel it in his quiet behind her.
"I'll send JJ in," he decides, and Emily bristles.
"Don't. I don't need company. I need quiet," she insists, biting off the words.
"All right," Rossi concedes softly and makes his way outside.
When he is far enough away, Emily lets the tears fall, keeping her back to the fire and the group outside her dwelling. She bites her lip. She keeps it quiet. But the truth is, her leg is killing her. And she has to give herself a few minutes to panic. To grieve. To entertain the possibility of what might happen, if only so she can prepare herself mentally for having to endure it.
Because what if they don't make it out? What if they're never found? Alaskan wilderness is nothing if not remote. What if infection sets into her leg? Rossi and JJ have done their best to keep it clean but Emily is realistic. There's the possibility of infection. Shock. Exposure. There are a million ways she can die out here, and Emily is not ready.
She has found something she truly loves doing. People she honestly likes being around. They are like family. She does not know what she will do if anything happens to any of them, so Emily concentrates. She sucks it up, and she makes a choice. She will die. Everybody will, sometime. But Emily decides that she is not dying tonight. She is staying alive.
She takes a deep breath and shakes her head, composing herself a long time before Rossi rejoins her.
--
“So, what’s the latest?” Rossi asks.
“A pencil impaled Hotch in the thigh,” Spencer volunteers, sounding impressed.
“Would you shut up about the pencil?” JJ asks irritably. Emily imagines her tense as she tends to Spencer. To Hotch. To everyone but herself. She remembers JJ coming in for gauze, with tears still drying on her face. “You’re one to talk, anyway," JJ continues, talking to Spencer. "You have a seriously nasty head-wound…”
“It’s probably not as bad as it looks. Head lacerations bleed more than injuries to other parts of the body, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re more severe,” Emily can hear Spencer’s quiet confidence - the way he clings to facts - in the face of so much unknown.
“Nothing,” Hotch says. He answers Rossi's earlier question sounding uncharacteristically shaken. “How’s Emily?”
“I can hear you!” Emily calls, equal parts pain and fierceness lacing her voice.
She imagines the perplexed and amused look Rossi is giving them and a thin smile stretches her mouth, despite her current situation.
“She can hear us,” Rossi passes along, matter-of-factly. “Emily?” he asks loudly. “How are you?”
“Fine!” she insists, despite the fact that she is sweating, experiencing the most intense throbbing she has ever known. “Now let’s make a plan and get the hell out of here!”
“Okay,” Derek jumps into the conversation, and Emily is glad. He seems to be the one keeping his head the most through this mess. “Well, thanks to Garcia we’ve got food, water… We’ve got shelter. Those are the most important things.”
“What about rescue?” Garcia asks, giving a voice to Emily’s most pressing concern.
“We can’t control that,” Derek says simply.
“I know that, but how long can we survive out here, on what we’ve got?”
“Most doctors and nutritionists agree people can go anywhere from four to six weeks without food as long as they are well-hydrated. Of course, that depends on various factors, such as overall health, body weight, genetics and environment…but a person can only go about three days without water. That would be our most pressing need at the moment,” Spencer fills in, yelping in pain. Emily imagines JJ disinfecting the gash on his head.
“Sorry,” JJ murmurs.
“Let’s just take one thing at a time.” Derek encourages.
--
Outside, their voices have carried in, along with a cold that seeps into Emily’s bones. Helpless, she reaches out to pack Garcia’s extra clothes tighter around her. If nothing else, she should insulate her femoral artery the best she can, so that she can stay as warm as possible, for as long as possible.
Like an answer to a prayer Emily hasn’t said, JJ crawls inside and moves alongside her, putting an arm across her chest.
Because Emily is not ready to talk, she feigns sleep, though it’s hard with the searing pain and the cold competing for her attention.
”You okay?” JJ asks, her voice low and nearly a whisper, but not quite. She asks like she expects Emily to answer. Like she doesn’t believe for a second that Emily is sleeping.
There is a comfort in JJ’s embrace, a relief in knowing a friend is nearby. Someone Emily can potentially be vulnerable around, if it comes to that. Hell, it was JJ who tried to get her out of the plane. It was JJ who practically dragged Emily along to an opening - any opening - and kept contact, even after she freed herself. If Emily could endure that kind of torture and still have JJ beside her now, offering support… Well, that’s something. She may be young, but JJ’s strong.
Still, Emily doesn’t stir. She waits.
“You’re not,” JJ sighs, knowing. “You’re not because I’m not either. We’re not gonna survive a month-and-a-half out here… Emily, I can’t do this…”
Just like that, JJ’s voice breaks. Just like that, there are more tears. Honest tears. The kind Emily needed privacy to shed. But JJ is a little braver.
“Garcia almost died on that case…running out to help somebody who was hurt. Now? We’re gonna die! Now…we’re God-knows-where, and I don’t know what to expect. I hate it out here. I’m… God, Emily… I’m scared, okay?”
JJ’s breath is warm on the edges of Emily’s ear. Slowly, she moves her own fingers so they are intertwined with JJ’s. So she will feel less alone.
“Me, too.”
“Faker,” JJ manages, forcing a laugh. “I knew you weren’t asleep.”
“I don’t think any of us are going to sleep tonight…” Emily ventures, wincing as pain rips through her. JJ squeezes her hand.
Silence falls around them, but it has no weight. No warmth. Maybe that’s why JJ fills it. Maybe that’s why she chooses to tell Emily what she does. It leaves her speechless, like so much of what JJ has admitted so far.
“You remind me of my sister…” JJ confesses.
“I…didn’t know you had a sister,” Emily admits, feeling surprise ripple through her. JJ is so self-sufficient. So similar to Emily, herself, that she has been sure for all these years that JJ grew up an only child.
Emily opens her eyes, and tries to find JJ’s face in the darkness. She can see almost nothing thanks to the distant fading firelight. But JJ’s voice is thick with emotion.
“I do…I did… You’re about the same age as she was…”
Emily is holding her breath and she doesn’t know why. She doesn’t ask what happened, because she can hear the cracks in JJ’s voice. The wounds that are not even close to healed. So, instead, Emily listens, using all the energy she might have put toward her pain, to just be here for someone else.
“She…hated the outdoors, but I loved it. I always asked her to have campouts with me. Not sleepovers. Campouts. In the living room. In the back yard. Wherever. The last time I did this…curled up next to somebody in a tent? I was ten. A few months later, she committed suicide. I was home at the time, but our parents weren‘t. I couldn’t save her.”
Silently, Emily squeezes the hand in her own.
“You saved me,” she tells JJ softly.