Keeping Her Safe

Into The Open Air.

Prentiss awkwardly sat at the ambulance door, ready to block it if Sera tried to leap out, and Hotch stood directly behind the chair she was strapped into. Of course the travel was a little unusual, but the paramedics seemed unfazed when it was suggested that strapping her into the chair was for the best.

The FBI vest was taken off after the handcuffs, and while she fought, Prentiss and Hotch were a match alone, never mind the medical staff too.

He strapped her down in the end, but it was as he pushed the final piece down that he noticed it. The top lifted an inch, and despite the dark soot across her skin, he still saw the red line of a scar that ran along the gap. He pulled the top down casually, hoping she hadn't noticed him staring at her exposed waist.

She hadn't.

Adrenaline was soon falling, and Hotch watched as Sera's shoulders dropped. 'Ms Vilein,' the paramedic softly spoke, hoping not to spook her.

'She's deaf,' Hotch mentioned.

'Do you know what sign language she knows? I know ASL,' the paramedic replied.

'Oh, she lost her hearing a few months ago. She probably can't sign,' Hotch responded. He knew that Prentiss only looked disinterested while staring at the floor. In truth, she was keeping an ear out and trying to learn what she could. 'My colleague has her hearing aids, he's meeting us at the hospital.'

As silence finally settled in the ambulance, aside from the ringing that came from the siren, Sera perked up and everyone prepared to fight her back into her chair. 'J'espère que votre chien entre dans une rage homosexuelle,' she hummed.

Prentiss smiled, fighting back a laugh while Hotch glanced at the exchange. 'What did she say?' He asked.

'She is not fluent in French, and I don't think she said what she thought. But she hopes one of your dogs flies into a homosexual rage,' Prentiss explained.

Hotch shook his head, but didn't discuss the matter further as he hoped to arrive at the hospital sooner rather than later.

When they parked up, the rear doors opened and Sera was met by a familiar face. Doctor Lopez stood and waved his hands about. 'What did I tell you?' He chastised.

Lopez was a short man, he was aging, and grey hairs littered his dark head of hair as his tanned skin faded over the years. His undereye had pouches, and his hands creased more than an old leather handbag.

Sera repeated the way his mouth moved like it was a reflex. 'Don't have a go at me. I don't appreciate that tone,' she warned.

'I thought she was deaf,' Prentiss blurted.

'She is. But with her glasses on, she can see well enough to read lips,' Lopez explained. 'And she is a profiler, so she can pick up on tones through facial and body language,' he added. 

'Oi, Lopez. Why are you here?' Sera asked, interrupting the conversation.

His tapping foot was accompanied by the methodical clink of the restraints being undone and left to hang. 'Someone was blown up, live on air. I rushed down here as soon as I saw it. You're an idiot,' he chastised. 'This is going to put you back months at least,' he complained. 'If you still have viable hairs,' he sharply added.

Losing her hearing had crossed her mind, but in truth, it was her career or a man's life. And she chose life every time. Because some people were precious, but not precious enough yet.

Being deaf meant that field work was off the table forever. And that meant Sera no longer served a purpose to the BAU, so at best she would be moved to a desk job where she could earn pennies. 'Doctor Reid wasn't breathing,' she loudly defended.