[4.1]

"you two caused me a lot of emotional distress this week"

Florence heard the explosion before she felt it. First, came the loud roar that filled her eardrums. Next, she felt the heat on her back. And lastly, the force of it sent her flying to the ground. It all happened in a matter of seconds.

Her ears were ringing as she slowly rolled on her back. Florence held her head and stared at the big ball of fire that used to be an SUV. It took her a moment to process the fact that it had exploded. She touched her forehead and felt blood from where she hit it on the concrete. Had she been any closer, she would've been in much worse shape.

Florence scrambled to her feet and took a cautious step towards the burning car.

"H - Hotch?" she called out, but it was weak and barely above a whisper. She took another hesitant step, but then her knees locked up, too scared to get closer and find his body. "Hotch?"

Finally, her ears stopped ringing and she could hear the alarm of the car going off. For a moment she wondered how it was still functioning. The next thing she heard was a man shouting over the noise.

"Sir, are you ok?"

Florence turned and relief filled her chest when she saw Hotch standing a few yards away from the car. There was another guy there, checking on him. Florence ran over to them and grabbed Hotch's arm — he didn't even seem to realize she was there.

"You a cop?" the guy asked, eying Hotch's gun.

"Call 911. Tell them... that a federal agent..." Hotch trailed off and ran towards the burning car. Florence tried to hold him back but he ripped his arm from her grip. "Kate!"

"Ok, so you want me to say—" the guy stopped talking, realizing that Hotch wasn't going to keep talking to him.

Florence chased after Hotch, leaving the guy to call 911. Hotch was trying to get through the fire and find Kate, not caring about his own safety. Another small explosion went off from the reaction, startling her, but she kept going. She grabbed Hotch as tightly as she could and pulled him back from the fire.

"Hotch, get back!" she shouted, not knowing if he could even hear her.

"Kate!" he continued to shout, trying to get closer to the car.

Florence squinted her eyes and tried to spot Joyner through the flames, but she couldn't spot her. "Hotch! She - she's not there!"

Florence looked around, trying to see which direction Joyner must have been thrown by the blast. Several yards out, in the middle of the street, was where she helplessly laid. Florence grabbed Hotch's shoulders and turned his body towards her.

Immediately, he ran towards her. Florence moved to follow him but paused. She didn't know if she wanted to see what condition Joyner was in — she had been closest to the blast after all. Eventually, she swallowed her fear and ran towards them.

Joyner was laying on her back and Hotch was trying to get her to focus on him. Despite the large pool of blood under her, Joyner was still trying to move. She hadn't processed the fact that she had been hit by a bomb.

"Am I moving my legs?" Joyner asked, turning her head.

"What?" Hotch asked.

"Am I moving my legs?" she weakly asked.

Florence's gaze moved to Joyner's legs, which were bent at odd angles and remaining still. Tears welled in her eyes and she sank to the ground on the other side of Joyner's body. Hotch rolled her over to look at her injury, and Florence was thankful she didn't have to see it.

"I'm gonna have to see—"

"Are you ok?" Joyner asked him, not even seeming to care about her own injury.

"Yeah, you just need to, um — I'm gonna have to see if I can... just pinch it off until they get here," Hotch stuttered out, making a face as he looked over her injury. "Sorry, I know it hurts."

"No," Joyner said, shaking her head weakly. "It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt at all."

"Kate, Kate, we're gonna get you out of here, ok. They're coming." Hotch told her. Finally, they could hear sirens approaching. Both Hotch and Florence looked up to see police cars and an ambulance, except they parked well over a hundred yards out. "Officer down! Officer down! Here!"

But none of the responders came closer. Both Florence and Joyner realized why with a sinking feeling.

"Aaron. They're not coming," Joyner said, getting Hotch to stop yelling. "We told them not to, remember?"

Hotch stared helplessly at the responders in the distance.

"You can't let go, can you, Hotch?" Joyner asked, referring to her wound. If he let go, she'd bleed to death and there's nothing they could do to stop it. "Aaron... you don't have to stay."

"I'm not leaving," he said firmly. He kept trying to call out to the police officers as they set up barricades, but it was pointless.

"They're not coming." Florence had almost forgotten about the other guy that had been there with them.

"Yes, your orders are not to let anyone in until the area is cleared," Joyner reminded him.

"But that's—"

Joyner cut Hotch off. "That's proper procedure."

Florence took a deep breath and wiped tears from her eyes. Now wasn't the time to cry. Hotch glanced at the guy that was hovering over Joyner, not sure what to do.

"Sam, you need to get out of the area," he told him.

"I just want to help," Sam said.

"If you want to help, get somebody down here." Sam nodded and ran off towards the responders. Hotch then finally looked at Florence for the first time. "Go with him, Florence. It's not safe here."

She gulped and wiped her eyes again. "You're not going to wait here alone."

Hotch nodded, and for a moment she saw relief in his eyes. He was scared that Joyner was going to die while he was holding her, and that was certainly something that no one should be alone for. He turned his attention back to Joyner and tried to keep her awake.

"Kate, I need you to wake up. Stay with me. Stay with me."

"I feel cold," she mumbled.

"What?"

"It's such a cliche, isn't it? I feel cold. Like in the cinema."

"You've lost a lot of blood, but I think I've got it stopped."

"Wait. That's not right," Joyner went on, not even registering Hotch. "It's movies. Um, you say movies, not cinema."

"Just try to relax," Hotch told her.

"Wh - why would you have a different word for—" She cut herself off with a wince, finally feeling some pain.

"All right, if they can't get down here, Florence and I are gonna try to lift you and just—"

Sam ran back over to them as Florence got to her feet and crouched by Joyner's legs, ready to lift when Hotch told her to.

"They just told me to get behind the barricade," Sam explained.

"Ok, help us here, I'm gonna try to lift her," Hotch said. "All right, on three. One, two, three." They only moved her a few inches before Hotch had to sit her back down. "No, I lost it. I lost my grip. All right, I need to find it again. Need to find it. Kate, stay with me."

"She's bleeding," Sam said, looking down at his hand that was covered in blood. "She's bleeding!"

"No shit, Sherlock. She's been bleeding this whole time," Florence snapped, unable to keep her head. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes. "Sorry."

"She's not gonna die, is she?" Sam asked, looking at Florence with wide eyes.

Florence didn't say what she really wanted — Hotch was trying to hold on to a little bit of hope, and she didn't want to take that away from him. But Florence gave Sam a small nod, answering his question. He moved a little closer to her as Hotch kept trying to wake up Joyner.

"You're bleeding too," he pointed out, nodding to her forehead.

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I was the farthest away."

"Hotch! Florence!"

Florence looked toward the barricade and her heart leapt out of her chest when she saw Morgan running towards them. Maybe he could help Hotch and Joyner. When he reached them, he immediately put a hand on Florence's shoulder. Morgan saw that her only injury was the cut on her forehead and moved on to Hotch and Joyner.

"Morgan, we've got to get her out of here," Hotch said desperately.

"They're not letting any ambulances down here till they clear the scene," Morgan told them. Then he turned to Sam. "Kid, you gotta get behind the barricades. Go!"

"Go, Sam," Hotch ordered. "Take Florence."

"No—"

"You don't need to see any of this," Hotch said, staring down at Joyner. He meant she didn't need to watch her die.

Florence pathetically let Sam drag her away from the others as he wished them good luck. Sam moved them several yards out, but not far enough if there was another bomb.

"Sam, I want to stay and help to, but if we're gonna leave, we need to go farther," Florence told him, biting her lip.

She watched and Hotch spoke lowly with Morgan before he answered the phone. Sam still didn't move back, and she thought he tightened his grip on her wrist.

"Dude, you can let go," she said just as Morgan sharply turned his head to look at them. She couldn't make out the look on his face. Florence tried to tug her wrist from Sam's grip, but he only held her tighter. "Sam, let me go."

Sam wasn't paying any attention to her. He stared down Morgan with one of his arms out. He had an almost taunting expression on his face. Florence tugged her wrist again but he roughly pulled her into his chest. He glanced down at her with a sinister smirk, and the realization hit her.

"You set off the bomb."

He chuckled and roughly threw her into the brick wall. Florence looked at him with wide eyes, but he had already started running, and Morgan was right on his tail. Florence touched her lip and chin, which had been scraped when she hit the wall and winced. She was just glad he didn't have a second bomb or something to strap to her. She sighed heavily and made her way back to Hotch, dropping down to his side.

He glanced up at her worriedly. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine. Morgan should be able to catch up to him," she said, taking a deep breath. Then she looked down at Joyner, who was barely breathing. "Is she?"

"It won't be long," he said, helplessly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. But then out of the corner of her eye, she saw flashing lights coming closer to them. "H - Hotch! Hotch, an ambulance! Look!"

Florence hit his shoulder in excitement as the ambulance pulled up right next to them. The EMT got out with his supplies in hand and ran over to them.

"She's got an arterial bleed in her back and I'm doing my best to hold it closed," Hotch explained as the EMT checked Joyner's pulse.

"You both okay?" he asked them.

"I just want to get her out of here."

"Her pulse is weak and thready. I'm gonna need your help, ok?" he said, getting supplies out of his bag.

"Is the area clear?" Florence asked, feeling useless at their sides.

"You were calling for help and I couldn't listen anymore," he explained. "My partner was too afraid to come in here with me."

"Kate, we're gonna get you out of here. We're on our way out of here."

The EMT explained that they were going to turn Joyner over so that he could see her wound. Florence held her at the front to keep her from tipping all the way over.

"On three. One, two, three. Ok. Ok, I'm gonna clamp that artery. When I say move, move your hand and get as far out of my way as you can and the girl can hold her up from the front. You got it?"

"Yep."

"Yeah."

"Ok, move." As soon as Hotch let go of her, the EMT clamped the artery shut while Florence pulled Joyner up from the ground. "Ok. I need to get a bag in and start getting her pressure up. Get the gurney from the bus."

Hotch got up and limped towards the ambulance. Florence wanted to run and do it for him, knowing she could move faster, but she was stuck holding Joyner up. Dropping her while the EMT was working on her injury could make things much worse. Once they got Joyner on the gurney, Florence hopped in the passenger seat while Hotch drove — he was in no condition to drive, but Florence didn't have a license so it was the only option.

"Where's the closest emergency room?" he asked the EMT through the window.

"St. Barclay's."

"Where?"

"I'm already pulling it up on my GPS," Florence told him, looking at her phone which now had a cracked screen. She also had several missed calls from Garcia which she had no choice but to ignore. "Four blocks up and one block East. It says the emergency entrance should be under the hospital."

"There will be signs to follow," the EMT added before putting his full attention on Joyner.

"Thank you, Florence," Hotch breathed out, flying down the road.

"Hey, look who's back. Hello."

"Is she awake?" Hotch asked, glancing back. Florence took off her seatbelt and turned to watch through the small window.

"Is that Aaron?" Joyner weakly asked.

"Are you Aaron?"

"Yeah. Kate, we made it," Hotch called out to her.

"Thank you," Joyner told the EMT.

"Don't thank me. Thank your partner. He did it all," he replied.

They quickly made it to the emergency entrance, but it was blocked off by a police car and men in suits.

"What's this?" Hotch asked as one of them stopped the ambulance and walked up to the window.

"Secret Service," he replied. "We're directing all emergencies over to Lenox Hill."

"I'm SSA Hotchner. I have SSA Joyner on board. She was injured in the bomb blast at Federal Plaza," Hotch frantically explained.

"Credentials."

"They're in my jacket at Federal Plaza."

"I - I have mine," Florence stuttered out while digging in her pockets. She pulled out her badge and flashed it. "I'm just a technical analyst but they are Federal Agents."

"I appreciate that, Agent, but this hospital is on a strict bypass," the man said.

"What is — what's that?" Hotch asked.

"It means the hospital is closed. We're redirecting all emergencies to Lenox Hill."

"She's not gonna make it to Lenox Hill," Florence insisted, tears welling up in her eyes.

Just then the heart monitor flatlined. "I'm losing her! She's crashing! I'm losing her."

"Please," Hotch begged.

After a second, the man waved them on. "Open it up."

He said something into a walkie talkie, but Hotch was already speeding away. Once they parked, they both hopped out and ran around back. The EMT stayed on the gurney to give Joyner CPR while Hotch rolled them inside the building. A group of nurses and doctors met them.

"What do you got?"

"BP 50 over 30. She's bradycardic with severe spinal injury."

Once Joyner was rolled out of sight, Florence relaxed the slightest bit and turned to Hotch with a smile. "You did it. You got her here."

But Hotch seemed to be distorted as he looked around the emergency room. He titled a little bit and moved closer to the desk. All of a sudden he fell over, crashing into a garbage can.

"Hotch!" Florence screamed, dropping to his side. She grabbed one of his blood-covered hands. "Hotch, no!"

Soon, nurses were pushing her out of the way and grabbing Hotch. As his eyes closed, they lifted him onto a gurney and took him the same way that they had taken Joyner. When she tried to follow, she was pushed back into the waiting area.

Florence found her way to a corner of the room and slid down to the floor, crying. She pressed her hand to her eyes, trying to make the tears stop but they wouldn't. She was too worried about Joyner and Hotch and the terrorist threat and Morgan and every other horrible thing that could go wrong. Eventually, she fumbled for her phone and called Morgan, hoping that he would pick up.

"Florence?" he picked up. "Talk to me. I went back and you and Hotch were gone."

She sniffed before answering. "An EMT broke the barricade and came to help. Joyner is in surgery at Lenox Hill. A - and Hotch just c - collapsed and they won't let me in to see him yet so I don't k - know what's wrong."

"Hey, Sunshine, try to calm down," Morgan said gently. "I'm headed to you."

"W - what happened with Sam?" she asked, wiping her eyes.

Morgan sighed heavily. "He's gone."

"Crap," she muttered, rubbing her head. "God, th - this is — Derek, I don't — I can't—"

"Florence, I need you to take deep breaths," he instructed and she did her best to follow. "I'll be there soon and let the rest of the team know. Once you feel a little better, find a nurse, and ask them to look at your injuries. You hit your head during that explosion and then the bomber threw you pretty hard. I need you to take care of yourself. Can you do that for me?"

Florence wiped her nose and nodded. "O - okay. I'll see you soon. Please be safe."

"See you soon."

Florence took a few more moments to collect herself. She was still crying when she tracked down a free nurse, but at least she was breathing at a normal pace. She was led to a bed in the semi-private room next to where Hotch had been moved — the doctor examining him could be heard through the curtain.

The nurse, whose name was Maya, was sympathetic as she watched Florence cry. Maya did her best to not hurt her as she cleaned the blood off of her face. Once her forehead and chin were bandaged, she left Florence on her own — but she did tell her that someone would let her know when they were done with Hotch.

She ended up going back out to the waiting room so that Morgan would see her as soon as he arrived. At one point, a doctor came and explained what he had done to Hotch. Something was wrong with his ear and there was shrapnel in his leg, but they had fixed everything. Hotch wasn't cleared to go into the field though — and with his ear and her concussion, neither was allowed to fly on the plane back to Quantico. She was sure that wouldn't fly with him.

Morgan soon made it there and ran up to Florence as soon as he saw her. She couldn't help but throw her arms around him and hug him tightly.

"Hey, you're okay. We're all okay," he told her, patting her back. "Let me see your face." He looked over her injuries and frowned when he saw the bruises already forming. Florence wasn't meant to be put in dangerous situations. "Take me to Hotch."

Florence led her to the nurse's station, where the doctor who worked on him was sitting.

"Doc. FBI," Morgan said. "How's Aaron Hotchner?"

"He's got acute acoustic trauma in his right ear, and I pulled shrapnel from his leg."

"Just lay down. Sir!" They all turned when they heard a nurse arguing with Hotch, who was asking for his clothes.

The doctor ran into the room, pushing the curtain aside. "Agent Hotchner, lie down."

"Doctor, I'm all right," Hotch stubbornly shouted. His ear was messed up and he likely didn't know how loud he was being.

"Hotch, stop it," Morgan said, trying to calm him down. "Just calm down. Doc, I got it, ok?"

"Morgan, where's Kate?"

"She's in surgery," he stated.

"Where are my clothes, please?" he asked loudly.

"Hotch, your go-bag is on its way."

"Has anything happened since the first blast?" Hotch asked, finally lowering his voice and calming down the slightest bit.

"Nothing."

"Sam?"

"He's dead."

Hotch sighed heavily. "Morgan, the profile's wrong."

From that point, everything moved so quickly. The rest of the team arrived, and once they were all together, it didn't take them long to figure out that the hospital was the target for the bombers. It was on the ambulance that Hotch and Florence had driven in on. They couldn't evacuate the target because they were in the middle of surgery, according to the Secret Service. Before everyone ran to track down the EMT and the ambulance, Hotch grabbed Florence's shoulder.

"Florence, you get out of this hospital and get at least one hundred and fifty yards back," he ordered. "Call Garcia and stay on the line with her so that someone knows you're safe."

Florence nodded weakly and then Hotch was running after the others. Florence took off for the exit and ran until she could hardly see the hospital building. She leaned against a brick wall to catch her breath before calling Garcia.

"Oh my god, am I glad to hear your voice," Garcia said, sighing in relief. "As soon as this is all over, I'm hugging you until your eyeballs pop out."

Florence managed to chuckle but didn't make conversation. She knew Garcia was far too busy, and soon she was patched into her call with Morgan, who had reached the ambulance and the bomb.

"Garcia, how long can you keep jamming the cell phone lines?"

"Uh, a few minutes, max. Why?"

"Cause I'm gonna have to get this ambulance out of here," Morgan said.

"Or you could just evacuate the building like everybody else," Garcia said.

"No. As soon as the airways are clear, this thing's going up."

"Going up?" Garcia repeated, sounding frantic. "Oh, my god, that's like three minutes, cause that's when the satellite moves position."

"Derek, don't do this," Florence pleaded weakly. "Please."

But he was already in the driver's seat. "Garcia, listen to me. I need you to find an area of town I can drive this thing, and you tell everybody, you hear me, everybody, that I'm coming. All right, talk to me, Garcia."

"Ok. Head north and floor it. I'll tell you where to turn."

Florence heard what sounded like gunshots through the phone. "Was that a gun?"

"It was nothing. Just talk to me!"

Florence held her breath as the ambulance passed where she was waiting. Morgan was in there, and there was no guarantee that he would be getting back off.

"How am I doing, Garcia?" he asked.

"One minute, fifty seconds," Bartleby answered.

"Why does it always have to be you?" Garcia asked, fear creeping up on her. "Why do you always have to do this?"

"Derek, you don't have much time. Please be smart about this."

"Signal's coming back online. Thirty seconds to full coverage."

"Derek, drive to the opening and then get the hell out."

"There's something I really want you to know, Garcia."

"Twenty seconds."

"Save it. Just get out."

"No, no, no, I'm not quite there yet."

"Ten."

"Morgan!"

"Just listen to me."

"Nine, eight."

"Morgan, please."

"You know what you are, Garcia?"

"We just lost tracking."

"Morgan!"

"Derek?" Florence choked out.

The last thing they heard over the phone was a loud explosion. Florence could see smoke rising in the distance and she felt a sob coming up in her throat. She covered her mouth to try and stifle her cries, imagining the worst. However, a few moments later, she heard his voice over the phone.

"Garcia, I'll tell you what you are to me." Florence gasped when she heard him alive and well. "You're my god-given solace. Woman, you promise me one thing — Whatever happens, don't you ever stop talking to me."

"I can't right now 'cause I'm mad at you," Garcia said. They all could hear that she too had been crying. Then she took off her headset.

"I can wait," Morgan sighed out. Then he heard sniffling over the line. "You still there, Sunshine, or are you mad too?"

"I'm not mad at you," she mumbled, leaning against the wall. "However, I distinctly remember telling you to stay safe and what you just did was the opposite."

Derek chuckled. "Will a Capri Sun on me make you feel better?"

"Seeing you will make me feel better."

|||

When it was finally time to go home, Florence couldn't have been more ready. She and Hotch would have to take a car back to Quantico while everyone else flew. Florence wanted to complain, but her head felt horrible and knew the plane would've made it worse. So, she followed Hotch around, still dressed like she just stepped out of the FBI gift shop.

While he was saying goodbye to one of the Detectives from the case, she leaned against the wall. After he shook his hand, she perked up, assuming it was finally time to go. Before Hotch could reach down to grab his back, Morgan swooped out of nowhere and grabbed it for him.

"I got it," he said. "I'm your ride."

"I thought Agent Davis was driving us?" Hotch asked, glancing at Florence to see if he was correct. She simply shrugged, not having remembered who was supposed to do what.

"She was. I had her reassigned."

"Don't you have something better to do?"

"Than to annoy you for three hours? Hell, no. With Ren's concussion, I can only assume she's not at her peak annoyingness," Morgan joked.

"I can be annoying just fine on my own," Florence said, smiling.

"Give me the keys," Hotch told him.

"Not a chance, Hotch. Let's go," Morgan said. They started walking and Florence slowly followed a few steps behind. "So did we ever find out who the Secret Service had in the hospital?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I guess it doesn't."

"Quantico's requested you transfer to run the New York office."

Florence stumbled and looked at Hotch's back as he revealed the fact that Morgan might be leaving. She truly couldn't deal with that. This case had been so emotionally exhausting, and if Morgan left she didn't think she'd be able to get out of bed the next day.

"Hotch, they haven't even buried her yet," Morgan said, sighing.

"We're at war. Things change," Hotch said in a flat tone. He was trying not to show he was bothered by Joyner's death.

"Don't I need your recommendation?" Morgan asked as they stopped by the car. He studied Hotch. "You didn't give it, did you?"

"Your actions, as incredibly brave as they were... would still be actions of an agent who doesn't truly trust anyone."

Florence found herself wanting to defend Morgan but considering that that could lead to his transfer, she kept her lips sealed.

"Hotch, I did it for this team," Morgan insisted.

"My opinion doesn't matter. Job's yours if you want it," he said, avoiding eye contact.

"Hotch. Your opinion matters to me."

"My life matters to me, and I have and always will entrust you with it. Would you do the same for me?"

Both of them glanced at the car. Florence had moved to the right-side back door and tugged on the locked door, just wanting to get in.

"Still want to drive?"

Eventually, they all got in the car with Morgan behind the wheel. Florence snuggled into her seat and kicked her feet up across the back seat.

"I'm not gonna talk a lot because my head hurts and Hotch's ear hurts, but you two caused me a lot of emotional distress this week so I want no complaints when I'm clingy when we get back to work."

"The way you were before wasn't already very clingy?" Hotch asked, scoffing.

"You're in the bullpen more than you're in your actual office," Morgan added.

"Well, that's because when I hear about a new joke, I rush to tell you all to brighten your day. Then I end up just staying."

"Has it occurred to you that your jokes aren't funny enough that you need to disturb everyone's workday?" Hotch asked, leaning his head against the window.

"Don't kid yourself, Frowney McFrownerson," she said, pulling her last Capri Sun out of her bag. "I'm fucking hilarious."

Morgan smirked to himself and glanced at Hotch before making eye contact with Florence in the rearview mirror. "Hey, Ren, did you tell Hotch the one about the astronaut?"

Hotch cut his eyes to Morgan, knowing what he was doing.

"Nope, he was in a meeting. So, did you ever hear about the claustrophobic astronaut?"

Hotch waited and realized she was waiting for his response, so he sighed. "No."

"He just needed a little space," Florence said, laughing to herself and slapping her knee for effect. "Why did the chicken go to the seance?"

"Why?" Morgan asked, smirking.

"To get to the other side."

Hotch sighed again. "Oh, this car ride is going to be unbearable."

|||

The car ride hadn't been that bad. Eventually, Florence ran out of jokes — though she told them that her head was hurting because she didn't want them to know she didn't have an infinite amount of bad jokes stored aside. Both she and Hotch were able to rest while Morgan got them to Quantico in just under three hours.

After Morgan parked the SUV in front of their building, he looked back at Florence. "I thought Prentiss was exaggerating about her snoring."

Hotch nodded and glanced at Florence, who was curled up in a ball. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he actually couldn't hear her snoring much because of his injury.

Morgan reached an arm back and shook her leg. "Wake up, Sunshine."

Her snoring cut off and Florence sat up correctly, rubbing her eyes. She yawned heavily. "Thanks for driving us, Der."

"No problem," he said, reading a text on his phone. "Garcia says that someone broke the coffee maker on the plane and they're still upstairs arguing about it."

"If it's alright, I'd like a moment with Florence," Hotch told them, not seeming to care about the coffee maker incident.

Morgan glanced at Florence, who shrugged. He nodded and grabbed his bag before getting out. He mumbled a quiet "good luck" to Florence before heading inside, fully prepared to be accused of breaking the coffee maker.

Once he was gone, Florence climbed from the backseat to the driver's seat. Once she was comfy, she turned to Hotch and smiled nervously.

"Um, before you yell at me, I just wanted to apologize," she said, looking down at her nails, which needed to be painted.

"Why would you need to apologize?"

"I was just in the way during this case. I was completely useless when the bomb went off. I couldn't do anything to help catch Sam. I was just in the way there and when we got to the hospital. You don't even like me that much so I was probably the last person you wanted around during it all," she went on, frowning. "I'm sorry."

Hotch frowned, and for a moment she thought he was going to agree with her. "Florence, first of all, you have no need to apologize. I should be apologizing. My decisions put you in danger. You got hurt in the field, and then I took you to the hospital that was about to blow up. I didn't question Sam and I sent you off with him. We're lucky he didn't decide to take you or hurt you further. That's my fault."

Florence rolled her eyes. "Hotch, none of that was your fault. None of us knew that he was going to blow up that car. None of us knew that the ambulance was the bomb. But you guys figured it out and saved the hospital. You did your job and saved the day."

Hotch accepted the answer and studied Florence's face, focusing on her bandaged head. "You said that I don't like you very much."

"Well, you don't," Florence stated, shrugging. "I get it. I'm annoying and I make you sigh a lot and I'm kinda dumb and I do things without thinking like break the coffee maker on the plane."

Hotch narrowed his eyes at her and raised a finger. He clearly was about to lecture her, but held back and shut his eyes. "Florence, I may sigh at ninety percent of the things you say, but that's not because I don't like you. It's because you stress me out to the same degree as my three-year-old toddler."

Florence laughed to herself but didn't interrupt him.

"You are a part of this team and this family, Florence. You aren't dumb. You're incredibly bright. I certainly don't know anyone else capable of breaking into the Pentagon's database. Garcia reports on you every week. When she gives you mountains of paperwork, you only complain for a few minutes — and really it's just to get a laugh out of her — before putting your headphones in and getting your work done. You've been incredibly helpful to us and Garcia on every case, even if you don't feel like it sometimes."

"Yes, I wish you'd learn your social security number and maybe be a little less unorganized and chaotic," he said, chuckling. "But that doesn't mean that I don't like you. I'm glad we have you at the BAU."

"Really?" she asked, grinning. Hotch had never said anything so nice to her. "Hopscotch, you're gonna make me cry."

His lip twitched the smallest amount, but he did not smile. "The cost of the new coffee maker is coming out of your next paycheck."

"Ugh. I was wondering if you caught that little confession," she mumbled, rolling her eyes.

"How'd you even break it? You don't drink coffee," he stated.

"I know but it just looked so fancy and I wanted to see how it worked. Are you really going to punish me for trying to learn something new?"

"I put Jack in a timeout whenever he breaks something."

"But I'm not a three-year-old," Florence sputtered out.

Hotch chuckled. "Which is why you'll be paying the full two hundred dollar cost of the coffee maker instead of being put in a timeout."

"Two hundred dollars?" she asked, her jaw dropping. "Are the coffee grounds made of gold?"

Hotch smirked at her, clearly enjoying the situation. "Well, you were correct in assuming that it looked fancy."

"I'd rather be put in a timeout."