Disclaimer: Eleventh Hour characters belong to whoever owns them at the moment. This story was written for fun not profit. Though if it helps to create more interest in this wonderful series, I would be willing to take a bit of credit for that.

Rating: PG-13

Credits 1: The quotes at the beginning and end of the story and at the beginning of each chapter are taken from The Divine Comedy Of Dante Alighieri – Inferno, translation by Allen Mandelbaum. Some of the quotes are taken out of context, but the words are so beautiful I hope no one is offended.

Disclaimer 2: I own a copy of The Divine Comedy, but not the words or translation.

Credit 2: Each chapter is named for one of the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, and acceptance. I used the book On Grief and Grieving by David Kessler as a reference.

Beta: Very special thanks to Obsidian Jade for suggestions and a great deal of hand holding, when I had doubts.

When I had journeyed half of our life's way, I found myself within a shadowed forest, for I had lost the path that does not stray. Ah, it is hard to speak of what it was, the savage forest, dense and difficult, which even in recall renews my fear: so bitter—death is hardly more severe! But to tell the good discovered there, I'll also tell the other things I saw. - From The Divine Comedy Of Dante Alighieri – Inferno – Canto I

Therapy Sessions

By Lattelady

Ch 1 – Denial

The day was now departing; the dark air released the living beings of the earth from work and weariness; and I myself alone prepared to undergo the battle both of the journeying and of the pity, which memory, mistaking not, shall show. -From The Divine Comedy Of Dante Alighieri – Inferno – Canto II

April 4, 2009 – 5:30 PM (CDT)

Dr. Jacob Hood felt as if his life had been flipped upside down. He pressed his right palm against the cool pane of glass separating him from the trauma room where the hospital staff was working on Rachel. Exhausted and fighting crashing adrenaline his forehead dropped to his raised wrist, though raw edges of temper kept his left hand tightly clenched at his side. Moments earlier, the ER doctor had taken the semiconscious woman from his arms and refused to let him follow, leaving him a helpless bystander.

Hood hated being helpless, and he had never played bystander with any semblance of grace. He grunted silently, knowing it was those vary character traits that had gotten him into numerous arguments with his various FBI handlers, not least of all one Rachel Young.

"Sir," a slim silver-haired nurse in navy scrubs tried to get his attention, as she adjusted her reading glasses. "I need to know what happened and any medical history you can give us."

"Hummm?" His didn't even glance at the woman. His focus was on the other side of the window and what was taking place there.

"Sir, any help you can provide would be appreciated," Karen Stevens emphasized her words by resting her hand lightly against his forearm. She'd been a trauma nurse for over twenty years and understood when and where to use subtle contact to facilitate communication. "We need information."

"Sure…yeah…Rachel Young, FBI, 29 years old. She…ah…ah…was shot with a bolt from a hunting crossbow…a little less than…" He caught his breath as he looked at his watch. "Oh God, has it really only been 22 hours?" Jacob felt as if he'd lived a lifetime in less than a day. "I…ah…it took me that long to get her back."

"But you did get her back and she's here now, getting the care she needs." Stevens reassured Hood. "Do you know her blood type? Does she have any allergies, or been ill recently…?"

"She's…ah…B positive with no antibodies…no history of prior transfusions. She's allergic to penicillin…gets a rash…but can take cephalosporins…was on Keflex last fall…no adverse reaction. She never gets sick…." Hood rattled off what readily came to mind, but knew there was more. "Ahhh…Wait, I've got…this." He dug into his pocket for his wallet, where he kept a copy of her medical emergency card. She'd given it to him months ago, but he'd never thought he'd have to use it. "That should tell you everything." He handed it to the nurse and returned his attention to the pale blonde on the gurney in the next room.

"Thanks," Stevens took one look at the verifying information and reached for the phone on the wall. As she dialed, she talked to the worried man beside her, "I'll get this back to you as soon as…." Then her attention was on her call, "It's Karen from the ED. We need four units of packed cells, B pos. down here now, and set up four more to be on-call for OR 6. The type and cross will be on its way as soon as they get a line in. Thanks, Mary." She hung up and turned back to the brooding man.

"Sir, Mr…ah…" Karen pretended to consult the medical card as if checking a name, "Mr. Young." This wasn't her first time caring for a government agent. Before retiring, to rural Maryland, she'd spent her career at George Washington University Hospital. She knew from experience the means they would go to stay close to a wounded partner. "Is there any chance your…ah…wife is pregnant?"

"Pardon?" Jacob finally focused on the nurse. He'd heard the question and understood why he was being asked: Rachel was of childbearing age and about to undergo surgery. It was the way he'd been asked that confused him.

"Is there any chance…?" She nodded, needing him to pick up on the help she was trying to give him. The moment he admitted he wasn't family, she would have to ask him to leave the patient care area. He didn't look like he'd go easily or quietly and she doubted the small hospital's security was a match for a trained agent. Those men and women could give GW's team a run for their money.

"I heard you…but she's not…we're not," his words ground to a halt as he remembered his other significant experiences with hospitals. A spouse had visiting rights and access to information that friends didn't. He'd never have lied outright to the staff but if they chose to believe….well, he would take advantage of it.

"She's not pregnant." Hood's response skillfully evaded the issue of his relationship to Rachel. It took him a moment to realize why he could answer with such certainty. It wasn't simply that their caseload had been too heavy in the last three months to allow for anything but work. It was that subconsciously he'd recognized a familiar pattern in her life, taken note and filed it away until needed.

He remembered the last night they'd spent in Denver, when he'd joined her in her room for dinner, after finishing his packing. He'd found her asleep on the couch wrapped in a blanket with a pillow tucked between her abdomen and drawn-up knees. The papers she'd been working on were scattered around her. There had been a tin of Motrin sitting on the end table within easy reach, along with a bottle of water, her weapon, pager and cell phone. Everything else was packed for their early morning flight.

That had been eight days ago and he doubted the incident would have pinged his subliminal radar, if he hadn't been married for over five years.

He and Rachel weren't intimate, but when traveling on cases, they lived in casual intimacy. Since the PCP incident, she insisted on adjacent rooms and they had gotten in the habit of keeping the separating doors open. He had a sneaking suspicion they knew a lot more about each other's personal lives than either would admit.

Rachel was cold. It was a deep penetrating cold that came from the inside out. She heard voices close by, but couldn't understand what was being said. Sounds swept around her, crescendoed and then crashed into nothingness.

…Was that noisy party still going on?

She hurt too much to make sense of what was happening. Her leg was on fire. There was something tight around her left forearm and it felt as if someone was sticking pins into her trapped hand. Was she still cuffed to the bed? She didn't think so…but…but. She forced her eyes open. The bright glare from above made her blink. It had been that way before, bright sunlight shining in a window over Hood's shoulder, deep cold shadows all around them. Sofia Lyons standing over them, out of control and pointing a weapon at Hood. Rachel had been too weak to move, to get between him and the bullet…

"Hood," she cried out and ripped her hand free of whoever had been holding it in place but she couldn't free herself from whatever was wrapped tightly around her forearm. "Hood!" she needed to know he was safe.

"Right here, Rachel. I'm right here." He pushed between the doctors and nurses that had banned him from the room.

"If you can keep her still, while I start this IV, you can come in, otherwise, get the hell out of here." A man to her left looked him in the eyes while he captured the agent's flaying arm, and repositioned a blue rubber tourniquet that was now flecked with blood. "She needs antibiotics and blood, sooner, not later," he growled as he applied pressure to the bleeding site, where an angiocath had recently been. At least he'd gotten his specimen for the blood bank and an Aid had taken it on its way.

"Let me go," Rachel gasped and twisted her wrist. She was frantic to be free. She had a job to do…she needed...needed... "Let me go," her voice trailed off as she fought black weakness that tried to engulf her.

"Stop it, Rachel." Jacob's voice rang out over the chaos. "You're safe. We're at the hospital." He wanted to shout back at the frustrated nurse. Tell him that if he'd been allowed in the room in the first place, she wouldn't have started fighting them. But he saved his energy for what was really important: taking care of Rachel.

"Where…" when she spoke, the hoarse word was hardly louder than a breath, but he heard her.

"I'm here. Let us take care of you." Jacob leaned across her and nodded at the seated man who was attempting to replace the IV she'd pulled out moments earlier. Hood's right hand was on her left bicep to keep her arm in place as the male nurse worked, while his free hand drifted through her hair. She was warm to the touch with splashes of pink high on pasty-colored cheeks. She'd been feverish in the truck, but this was much worse.

"You're not hurt, you're safe?" she asked. Her frightened eyes found his inches away, when he leaned closer to talk to her. Busy noise swirled above their heads, cutting them off from everything that was going on around them.

"I wasn't the one in danger." He spoke quietly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the nurse slide a new IV into Rachel's hand and tape it securely in place, just as a cooler arrived from the blood bank.

"Sofia…the weapon…" She was confused and agitated.

"Not our worry, anymore," he explained gently.

"But…" Rachel's chin tilted to the side as a fuzzy memory gnawed at the back of her mind. "Did you drive?"

"Yes," he grinned at her, "And we both survived the experience."

"Oh, okay…" She squinted as her head spun. She hadn't seen the doctor inject pain medication into her IV, but Hood had.

"They'll be taking you to surgery in a few minutes." He reassured.

"Jacob," she tried to form words, but wasn't sure they were anywhere but in her head, as her eyes grew heavy. Whatever was making her so dizzy, helped tame the fire in her leg, but leached away at her ability to form cognizant thoughts.

"I'm right here."

"Make…the call…please, this time make the call for back-up." Her fingers twisted weakly in his shirt, pulling him closer in a last attempt to communicate.

"No need, Felix is on his way." …Along with a thundering herd of agents, all out for my head on a platter, but he didn't add the last. "Now rest, I'll be there when you wake up."

"Promise?" she wasn't sure she'd said it out loud, until she saw him nod. Only then did she stop fighting the slowly creeping blackness and sink into exhausted oblivion. She didn't hear Hood groan as her body went lax under his hands, or feel his forehead rest against hers as her eyes closed.

"Rachel," he whispered. Reality and memory echoed around him. For one moment he was sitting beside Maggie's bed, as the light fled from her deep brown eyes. Superimposed on that were images of his attempts to keep Rachel awake since Sofia had dumped her on the bench seat at the old diner. "Rachel?"

"We're taking her up to the OR, Sir, please stand back." Once again Hood was pushed aside by the emergency personnel. He had to watch helplessly as she was stripped of her valuables and strapped to the gurney. "Have a seat in the waiting area, we'll contact you when there is news."

"Can't I…" He attempted to follow the small procession into the hall that led to an elevator.

"Oh, no you don't." Nurse Stevens blocked his way.

"Just until the elevator arrives…" Even as he said the words, he saw someone put a key in the lock where there should have been up and down buttons, automatically summoning a car.

"No." The short silver-haired woman spoke with authority. "Let them do their jobs."

"I won't be any trouble, I promise…." But it was too late, the doors opened and the knot of people surrounding Rachel's gurney surged in. Moments later a deep low moan escaped Hood's lips, as he was left staring at an empty corridor and closed elevator doors. Where there had been hectic noise, there was nothing but silence.

"Sit here." Karen led him to a rolling-stool beside the sink; careful to keep his back to the mess that had been left behind, when they'd taken his partner to the OR. "Is that her blood or yours?" She examined his hands and suddenly pale complexion.

"What?" he mumbled and frowned, just now aware that Rachel had bled on his coat, hands and fingers. "Hers…hers…I didn't realize…I was trying to stop the bleeding." With an angry growl, he shrugged out of the jacket and tossed it toward a large red biohazard container in the corner. "I'd forgotten…" It was the best he could offer as he fought to push back the emotions of the day. There would be time later, once he'd dealt with Ray Wynne and…and… "Oh, God…"

"Easy, honey." She patted the man's shoulder trying to give reassurance. Dealing with distraught family members was part of her job. In her experience federal agents did a better job of hiding what they were feeling. She was beginning to believe there was a lot more between these two than a simple working relationship. "You gotta take care of yourself. She's gonna need you when she wakes up from surgery."

"If she wakes up, you mean." His eyes were filled with devastating loss. He'd never imagined this could happen. Rachel was so full of life. She radiated strength and vitality. Now the source of that strength was soaked into his coat and showed red on his skin. Intellectually he'd understood the ramifications of having a handler who was also a bodyguard, but, up until now, he'd been able to hide it from his emotions.

Oh, yeah, there was a lot more going on here, Karen realized as she watched the man fight for control.

"Dr. Hood, Agent Young?" A breathless male voice accompanied by running footsteps echoed through the hall, leading from the waiting room.

"Felix," Hood answered. "Back here, Felix." Jacob stood and quickly rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands.

Karen blinked at the commanding change in him. He might look like a disheveled nerd, but there was iron strength in him that he hid well.

"Oh my God," a tall black giant of a man appeared in the door. He clutched a laptop at his side. "What the hell---"

"Do you have the evidence?" Hood was carefully studying pink tinged soapy water as it flowed down the drain, giving himself a few more seconds until he had to turn around and pretend that he wasn't in a state of free fall and confusion.

"Got it." The huge man raised the laptop that was almost swallowed by his hand. "Where is Agent Young?"

"They took her to surgery a few minutes ago." Jacob finally turned, drying his hands on a paper towel. "This is nurse…. I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name."

"Stevens, Karen Stevens." The silver-haired woman in dark blue scrubs studied both men. She easily read shock on the younger one's face, but the older one had reverted behind a bland cool mask, though his hazel eyes burned with emotion that was strangely at odds with his determined expression. She knew without being told that still waters ran deep in that one.

"Well, Karen Stevens, this is Special Agent Felix Lee." Hood made the introductions casually, as if they were meeting for coffee, instead of standing in a trauma room with Rachel's blood dotting the floor and staining discarded blankets. "Someone said something about a waiting area, earlier? I'm sure your people want us out of here."

"It's down the hall." Karen indicated the way Felix had come moments earlier. "Before you go, you should have these." She pointed to Rachel's badge, ID, and a small plastic bag, which contained a set of diamond stud earrings, a watch and two gold chains. "If I lock them up, Agent Young won't get them back until she's discharged."

"Oh…ah…thanks." Hood's composure almost cracked when he picked up the jewelry and carefully slid the delicate pieces into his palm. He ran a finger over each item before putting it back into the bag. "Felix, would you take…" he pointed toward the other things.

"You should keep 'em with you, Doc."

"Yeah…yeah, maybe you're right." He pursed his lips, sliding first Rachel's badge and ID into one pocket and her more personal items into another.

The late afternoon and evening dragged on. It was only broken by the appearance of Ray Wynne who was taken in for questioning on numerous counts ranging from conspiracy to comment a felony up to and including kidnapping. Hood found it strangely satisfying to confront the man, before the soon to be Ex, Deputy Director was hauled off by Director Frank Fuller.

It was full dark and the hospital had grown quiet before Felix Lee returned from successfully bringing Sofia Lyons into custody. It was the first time the young agent had been lead on a task force, but he found no joy in the accomplishment, not with Agent Young still in surgery.

April 4, 2009 – 11:42 PM

"Felix, you should go home, no sense in both of us losing anymore sleep." Hood's comment broke the late night silence in the Surgical Waiting Area.

"She wouldn't want me to." The large black man rested his jaw tiredly on his fist, not budging from where he'd been seated for over two hours.

"If it was you in the Recovery Room, she would have left after talking to the vascular surgeon." Jacob knew it wasn't true, but ached to be alone with his confused thoughts. Maybe then he could figure out a way that the case could have been handled differently, a way that would have kept Rachel safe. He knew it was a useless mental exercise, but it would keep his mind from straying down dark paths he'd visited once before in his life and vowed to never walk again.

"Possibly," Felix nodded. "But she wouldn't leave you." The younger man's statement hung between them. It contained layers and layers of meaning that neither was willing to address. It was easier to take the softly spoken words at face value and drop the subject.

When Rachel was moved to a room, and they were finally allowed to see her, Agent Lee took up position outside the door. Where he had guarded one before, now he guarded two.

Jacob sat, watching her sleep. It wasn't the first time he'd allowed himself the luxury of doing so, but he was beginning to wonder if it wouldn't be safer for her, if it were the last.

In the beginning, she'd only let down her guard enough to rest, in his presence, on airplanes, and then only after they were safely at cruising altitude. But as time went on, he'd look up and see her napping on the sofa in her room or his, if she had downtime during a case, while he worked. Once she'd fallen asleep with her head on a desk while he'd conducted an extensive computer search at a stem cell storage facility. After Texas, where he'd accidently ingested PCP, she admitted her nights were easier with the door between their adjoining rooms open. For the first time he was allowed to check on her, when the need arose in him. Those nights usually followed a day when she'd brushed too close to danger for his peace of mind. He'd watch her sleeping form from the doorway, until his heart rate returned to normal and his mind wasn't filled with images of her destruction by bullets, fists, or speeding cars.

….But this, what happened in the last day, wasn't so easily washed away.

"Hummm, no," she mumbled and jerked her head to the left.

"Shhh, easy Rachel. You're all right. You're safe." He ran his hand down her left arm until his fingers ringed gauze dressing wrapped around her wrist, above one of her IV's. Earlier, he'd been more concerned with the potentially fatal wound to her thigh and had missed her lesser injuries.

"You're too much of a fighter for your own good." He sighed in a choked voice, unable to blot out the mental image of her cuffed to a bed, struggling against her restraint with enough force to do damage.

"Owww," the sleeping woman moaned and turned to her left. It was a move that was as natural to her sleeping body as breathing - to bring her right knee up and over her straightened left leg, until was laying half on her side and half on her stomach. Tonight it didn't bring her comfort. Her thigh muscles contracted, straining against recently repaired tissue, sending red-hot pain shooting across nerve endings to explode in her brain. "Noooo!" she cried out, clawing at the sheets, trying to pull herself away from whatever was digging into her. "Get away from me!"

"Rachel!" Hood was leaning over her in seconds, a darker shadow in a dark room.

"Don't touch me," she gasped and tried to curl in on herself, only jarring her incision site more.

"Easy, Rachel, it's me, Jacob." He stood quickly, pressing closer to her, needing to see her in the dark.

"Ja…Jacob…my…leg…hurts," she wheezed out each word, one harsh breath at a time.

"You were wounded and have had surgery." He cupped her shoulder with one hand and her cheek with the other. Her skin was hot, feverish, and she shivered beneath his touch. "You need to stay flat."

"But I never sleep on my back." She was bewildered. Her thought process clouded.

"I know you don't, but you need to, until the doctors say otherwise." His lips tightened, as he wondered, for the millionth time who the man had been and where he was now. It was obvious that muscle memory still caused her to turn to him in her sleep because she slept as if she were sprawled with her head on someone's chest, her leg tucked between his legs and her arm flung around his waist. Hood knew exactly what it felt like to have a woman pressed against him like that. He was a back sleeper.

"But…" she didn't want to move, it would hurt, but she trusted Hood and if he said she needed to, she would have to do it.

"Let me help." He slid his right arm under her shoulders as he leaned across her and used his left hand to support her thigh just above the knee but below her surgical dressing. "Put your arms around my neck and hold on tight."

"Don't hurt me?" she whispered as she buried her face against his neck. Rachel was lost in a mist of drugs, a combination of the remnants of anesthesia from surgery and pain medication that did little to dull her pain.

"Never," he almost groaned when he felt her damp tears against his skin. It was too much. In all their time together, no matter what happened, he'd never known her to cry, not even when she'd thought she was going to die from small pox. Once or twice, he'd seen her eyes glisten and her voice grow hoarse, but she'd always been able to regain control. It broke him to know that she'd been broken.

"Hush, it's all right," he reassured her…him…both of them. "Hold on to me tightly. I'm going to count to three and get you onto your back. Let me do all the work." He felt her nod and the damp area under his jaw grew larger. "Ya ready?"

"Just do it." She pressed against his warmth, unsure how long she could hold onto him.

"One…two…three…" He lifted her gently. The back of her knee was cupped carefully in his left palm. He could feel soft skin and then rough dressing as her thigh became more muscular. The side of her breast pressed against his right wrist and his fingers spread along her ribs and tapered to her waist.

"Jacob," she gasped his name and held on tightly, her breathing jagged, unable to keep from crying, as he eased her onto her back.

"Felix," Hood called over his shoulder, his voice was rough and hard. "Get someone in here, now!" The temper he kept under tight lock and key was boiling to the surface. He fought it with everything in him.

"Is she waking up?" A tall gangly male nurse strode through the door and turned on a dim light by the bed. His name badge said he was Carl Swenson, RN, but he looked more like he should be lazing on a California beach saying, 'Yo dude, caught some righteous curl today.' Instead he was doing night duty at a small hospital in rural Maryland.

"She's in pain," Hood rasped. He didn't realize he still had his arms around her and she was still clutching him. "She had rolled on her side, in her sleep, and jarred her leg."

"Sir…I need to…ah…assess her. You're gonna have to…ah…" Carl nodded to the chair beside his patient's bed. "The monitor gives me a lot of information." He indicated the screen above the bed, "But I like to be sure the numbers match a patient's condition."

"I'm…I'm fine, Jacob, really, just cold." Rachel's voice was muffled against his neck. She loosened her tight hold on him and let her hands glided over his shoulders as they fell to her sides.

"You're not fine. You're hurting." He straightened and looked her in the eyes as he ran both thumbs over her damp cheeks. "This young man is going to take care of you for a few minutes, but I'm not going anywhere." He sat back in his chair, his expression filled with worry that he'd been trying to ignore since Rachel had gone running after Sofia behind Ray Wynne's burning weekend home.

"I…" She wanted to argue with him, but he was too perceptive and she too weak to fool him. It was easier to shake her head and believe that none of this was really happening: Hood losing his temper; Hood looking scared because of her; Hood holding her as if she mattered.

"Can't you give her something for pain?" he asked, helping Carl tuck more blankets around her, after the nurse was satisfied with his assessment.

"Still so cold…" she whispered and huddled further under the covers. Jacob took her hand and held it between both of his, trying to transfer as much body heat as possible. For one fleeting moment he was tempted to crawl in beside her and hold her shivering body against his. He'd done it countless times with Maggie as the chemo fought her cancer and she fought the chemo. Both had been losing battles and the very reason he refused to do more than warm Rachel's hand.

"I can now." Swenson carefully recorded her respirations, blood pressure and heart rate on her medication sheet. "The dilaudid will help her sleep and she needs her next dose of antibiotics, as well. That will do more for her chills than all the blankets in the world."

Twenty minutes later she was settled, medications had been given and pillows were propped on either side of her body, to keep her from rolling over in her sleep.

"Sir, I know you're worried, but she really is doing much better." The nurse tried to reassure Hood. "What she needs now is sleep and so do you."

"Are you throwing me out?" Jacob raised his brows and wondered if Felix could take the blonde surfer-looking guy who was in reality a very good nurse.

"I'm asking you nicely to leave. You're not doing her any good by sitting there all night." The young man ran his thumb over the stubble on his jaw, trying to figure out a diplomatic way to state the obvious. He finally shrugged and simply said it. "I get the feeling she worries about you first, but right now she's got to be first. Come back tomorrow when you're a little less…ah…ragged around the edges."

"You're right." Jacob shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You're right on all counts. I just want too…" he turned toward the bed. "Just…"

"No problem, I'll give the Agent at the door the phone number for the desk. Call about 0700h and I'll give you an update." Carl walked softly out of the room, allowing the man a few moments of privacy with his…spouse…partner…significant other… It didn't matter to him. He'd seen them interact, even if only for a short time. They were a couple and he figured, with their jobs and all, they were careful to keep it from becoming common knowledge.

"Rachel," Hood leaned close to the sleeping woman, his hand resting lightly on her cheek. "You've gotta get better."

"Jacob." Her eyes opened. She appeared almost lucid for the first time since he'd gotten her back. She covered his hand with hers; trying to reassure him, "Don't look so worried." Her chin tilted until her lips brushed against his palm, leaving a gentle kiss behind. "You'll wake up...soon." She blinked slowly, fighting sleep. "I'm only dreaming you're here," she sighed once and her eyes clouded with confusion. "We're on planet Hood…" Her words slurred as her lids slid closed and the corners of her mouth turned up at the idea of getting to visit a place she knew existed only in his head.

"Ohhh," Jacob groaned, despite her nonsense words that he found strangely endearing, because a lone tear escaped her left eye and crept down her cheek, dampening his fingers and sending tremors through his body. He maintained tight control, watching her sleep, as her tear dried on his skin, and until he was sure there were no more to follow.