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One second, Hotch is briefing them on the awards ceremony and explaining why JJ and Garcia had already been at the venue for two hours, Rossi says, “I’m not drunk enough for this.” and gets his hand slapped away from the built in limo mini bar by Prentiss, and the next they’re teetering over the edge of the fucking Golden Gate Bridge like something straight out of a Spider-Man film.
People are screaming, maybe Reid, probably Morgan, Emily latches on to Hotch’s arm without thinking and Rossi pulls Reid behind him when a glass bottle of whiskey threatens to break all over his feet.
The chaos is short-lived, quiet settling over the car except the low creaking of the walls around them, straining to stay on the bridge.
They all stay completely still, no one daring to even breathe too hard.
At this point, the limo is at a twenty degree angle.
Rossi breaks the silence, “I’m definitely not drunk enough for this.”
“The driver,” Reid whispers, nodding at the front of the limo, closest to dropping off the suspension bridge.
Morgan swallows, “Okay, everyone move real slow to the back of the car, I’ll check on him.”
“Morgan,” Hotch warns.
Not surprisingly, Morgan doesn’t listen, inching towards the sliding divider that separates them from the driver. Hotch can't stop him from going without putting them all in danger, so he settles on hissing the agents name again and pushing both Reid and Emily towards the back of the car.
Rossi grabs Hotch when he trips, connecting them all in an odd human train, none of them attempt to let go.
“He’s gone,” Morgan says after a few seconds.
“Dead?” Reid sounds guilty.
Morgan turns back around, climbing as slow as he can back up to them and grabbing the hand Prentiss offers, “No, gone. Looks like a truck hit us, soon as the driver saw it, he must’ve jumped ship.”
“Smart guy,” Prentiss says.
Rossi snorts, “Lucky one too.”
Hotch, clearing his throat, draws the attention of the team to him. “Alright. It won’t be long until the Bureau comes for us. We just have to hold on until then. We can’t use phones, the limo bounces off cell signals so it can be used as a portable meeting room.”
“Of course it is.”
“Someone give the FBI a gold star.”
“It was a good idea, in theory. They actually experimented with several different frequencies before deciding-“
“No.”
“Okay.”
Hotch groans. “Focus, we need to keep ourselves as far up on this side of the car as we can.”
“This is a limousine, Aaron.” Hotch doesn’t look impressed, Rossi shrugs. “Just because we’re in danger doesn’t mean we have to start acting like animals. I pulled strings to get us this car.”
“Should I be thanking you, Dave?”
“Hey now.”
Emily and Morgan busy themselves helping Reid wrap seat belts around their wrists to hide their laughs.
Suddenly, the car creaks loudly and tips just a little more, sending the agents scrambling to stay on the relatively safe side. Morgan moves to help Hotch form a barrier between them and the front of the limo.
Hotch switches to bracing a hand against the window, and another grips Reid’s sweater as the kid starts to shake.
Trying to calm him down, Rossi looks Reid in the eye with a smile, “What’s that space thing you were telling me about earlier?”
Reid swallows, “Planet Nine? Uh- okay- Planet Nine is a hypothetical planet in the outer region of the Solar System. Its gravitational effects could explain the unusual clustering of orbits for a group of extreme trans-Neptunian objects, bodies beyond Neptune that orbit the Sun at distances averaging more than 250 times that of the Earth-“
“How the hell?” Morgan interrupts, pausing in aiding Hotch to glare at no one. “If there’s a planet that big we’d have found it by now, that’s bullshit!”
“Morgan, stop getting angry about planets and help me,” Hotch says.
Emily can’t decide if that’s funnier in or out of context.
“Are we going to die?” Reid asks in a squeaky voice.
Hotch grits his teeth and braces his elbow against the roof, “No one’s dying.”
“There go my Friday plans,” Emily says.
Only Rossi laughs.
“I think we need to get out of here.”
“No offense Rossi, but like, no shit.”
“Have we tried the doors?”
No one says anything. Rossi gives Morgan a challenging look, “No shit. ”
Cautiously reaching over to grip the handle, Hotch nods at each of them. He pulls hard, the door opens an inch before slamming into a slab of concrete.
The car slips just a little more.
“I blame Rossi,” Emily announces a little too quickly.
“Reid, flip her off for me.”
Barely paying attention, Reid complies. When he realizes what he’s doing he goes red and drops his hand.
Hotch slowly shuts the door again, sucking in a breath when the car slides an inch more towards the edge. When the car slides, Hotch’s heavy briefcase slides with it and slams into Emily’s shin.
She hisses and bites her tongue, “Really?”
“Sorry,” Hotch says quietly with a wince. Her boss apologizing would’ve been funny if Emily wasn’t in so much pain.
“It’s broken.”
“No it’s not.”
“Did you put bricks in there?!”
“Case files.”
“Full of bricks?!”
Hotch shrugs. Rossi leans back and smacks his head against the window.
“Guys?” Morgan asks the car in general, panic just barely edging into his voice.
Hotch manages to turn and look at his agent, one hand still gripping Reid’s sweater sleeve. “What is it?”
“You know what I hate right now?”
“Everything?” Emily grumbles, really wishing she could reach the mini bar without killing all of them.
Morgan ignores her. “That all I can think about is that this is like one of those superhero movies, except there’s no hero with super strength to get us out of here and we’re all going to die. ”
Reid whimpers, Rossi shrugs, “We have JJ.”
Visibly, Morgan relaxes. “Oh yeah.”
“JJ’s going to find us,” Reid whispers. “And then she’ll never let us go anywhere without her again.”
“I was so close to convincing her to take her family on a vacation,” Hotch says in a tired voice.
“Better then dying,” Emily says.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been scared like this,” Morgan half whispers. “Not for a while, at least.”
Rossi pats his arm, “When Garcia sees you next, that’s when I’d fear for your life.”
Morgan pales.
Reid nods, “I correct my statement. JJ will save us, and Garcia will make us wish she hadn’t.”
With that, the car slides again, sending Rossi and Emily scrambling to find their footing again.
The group waits a few seconds after in a tense silence.
“You know, if I was going to die, I thought it would be a little more dignified than this,” Rossi finally says, his foot braced against the mini bar, one hand pressed against the window and another holding Prentiss’ ankle.
Emily frowns, “ If you die?”
Rossi only shrugs.
No, Emily decides, she’d be okay with reaching the mini bar even if it does kill all of them.
“It’s going to be hard to donate your brain to science if it’s waterlogged, eh, Pretty Boy?”
Reid blinks at him, unimpressed, “At least I have a brain to get waterlogged.”
“Oh, you are so lucky that I can’t reach you right now.”
“Morgan, Reid.”
“No, Hotch, let ‘em go, at least we’ll have some entertainment before we go plummeting to our deaths.”
“No,” Emily growls out of the blue, “no way! I am not dying in a limousine filled with alpha male testosterone and Reid!”
Reid, his bottom lip quivering, creases his eyebrows, “Was that a compliment?”
“I think it was just a ‘fuck you’ in general, Reid,” Hotch says.
“I’ve never heard you say fuck before,” Morgan comments, his voice higher than usual.
“And you never will aga-“ the car lurches, sending Hotch teetering, “-fuck!”
His curse is echoed by almost all of them, and Rossi opens his eyes to a new arrangement, he’s no longer holding Emily’s ankle, but Derek’s belt at his hip.
Morgan grumbles, an arm around Reid’s shoulders. “I hate today.”
“Does this beat the awards ceremony?” Emily asks herself, Hotch’s leg around her waist to keep her from falling and both her hands gripping Rossi’s suit jacket. “The answer is, most things do, but not this. ”
Reid huffs. “If it was just me in here I would’ve been fine.”
“Are you calling me fat, Reid?” Morgan asks.
“I think he’s calling you muscular.”
“I’m calling you heavy.”
“I should’ve stayed in retirement.”
Hotch closes his eyes. “I need a holiday.”
Emily brightens at that idea, “We should go to Disneyland!”
“You want an FBI team to go to Disneyland?” Reid asks with skepticism in his voice.
“No, I want to watch Derek scream like a kid at Disneyland, and Rossi spoil Garcia because he doesn’t know how to say no to her.”
“Hey! I don’t scream!”
“I can say no just fine, thank you.”
“Oh? Then why don’t you?”
Rossi is saved from answering by a loud groan of metal, and the rapid tipping of the limo as they slide towards the water.
“Shit fuck shit fuck shut fuck-“
Emily’s cursing isn’t only drowned out by Morgan’s yelling and the underlying noise of Reid humming in a high pitched, scared tone.
Rossi grits his teeth, intent on accepting his own fate, but feeling pretty crappy about watching all the others die around him.
Hotch closes his eyes and pulls his team around him in a huddle as best as he can.
Then everything stops.
The next thing they register is a bright light, Emily puts her hand up to shield it. “Are we dead?”
“I’d hope not,” A voice says.
Blinking her eyes, Emily focuses on someone above her, silhouetted by light. “Are you an angel or are you JJ?”
“Same thing,” Reid says weakly, stumbling to his feet and immediately getting pulled into a hug by JJ.
Hotch and Rossi stand, helping Morgan up from the floor and keeping him on his feet as Garcia practically tackles him in a hug.
“I thought you were going to fall!”
“Me too, Baby Girl.” Morgan hugs her back. “Reid got in my head.”
Garcia pulls away and turns on Reid, who shrinks back and steps behind Hotch. “I did not!”
“Derek Morgan!” Garcia gasps, turning to confront her friend to see him already a few yards away, running like his life depends on it.
Rossi snorts and beckons to Garcia, “Come on, Kitten. I know how to cover up a murder.”
Garcia takes his hand and nods. “Good.” Looking back, she points at Hotch and Reid and Emily, “I’ll find you later.”
“Was that a threat?” Emily asks with a laugh. She shakes her head and throws an arm around Reid’s neck. “Come on, after that ordeal, I could use a snow cone.”
“It’s November, Emily, no one’s going to be selling them.”
“But I have an FBI badge.”
“I don’t think-“
“Shut up Doctor Reid, you know you want tigers blood.”
Their banter fades away as they walk off, leaving JJ and Hotch. The younger of the two sets a careful hand on Hotch’s shoulder, “Are you sure you’re all okay?”
“Yes.” Hotch gives her a tight, reassuring smile and pats her hand. “It was just a long few hours.”
JJ stares at him for a long time, her mouth slightly open. “Uh… Hotch?”
“Yes?”
“You were only in there for ten minutes.”
Hotch’s only reaction is a muttered, “I need a vacation.” as he walks away.
JJ skips to keep up with him, “We should go to Disneyland!”