Alex does not bother to go to a hospital despite the team's insistence and nagging. She isn't injured in any major way, and she doubts that there was internal bleeding anywhere. Her head and back hurt like hell, yeah, but it isn't severe enough for professional, medical help. All she needs is some painkillers, a thorough massage, and at least 8 hours of sleep to relieve the pain.
JJ drives her back, and the entire car ride was silent. The linguist could tell that the blonde wants to start up a conversation, but she couldn't find the right words to start with. Alex doesn't blame her; striking up an exchange with her is difficult. In spite of her boastful linguistic skills, talking with others is not a strong suite of hers. She shut herself off after the Amerithrax case and has not been able to switch back on properly ever since.
Deep down, Alex knows she wants to fit in with this team. They're a tight knit group who would go to hell and back for each other. She filled in the space of a beloved member, and it feels artificial. Like duct tape to fix a complex machine. A replacement could never live up to its original counterpart. No matter how shiny, how useful, how convenient. Alex knows that, but she feels so done thinking about it.
She couldn't think about what happens afterwards. Erin is dead, the BAU almost lost its valuable agents, and the team is emotionally distraught regardless of John Curtis's death. In short, everything is pretty fucked. Everyone around her has been affected by this case in some magnitude, and she had some responsibility for it. Although the blame for the making of a brilliant psychopath can't be burdened on her shoulders, she also knows that Erin had given her that chance as a crappy apology for her devastating decisions. That affair had some advantages after all, but that is another story.
"Thanks," she mumbles out when JJ parks near the house. She zips up her FBI jacket when a cool breeze whispers by.
"No problem, Alex," JJ responds, her first words to the linguist ever since she offered her the ride back. She glances past her and takes a look of her house. "Are you sure that you want to be alone tonight?"
Out of the blue, Alex chuckles. It's light and adorable, and probably the first time she's done it in a while. "Oh, I won't be alone, Jayje," she says, flashing her wedding ring at her. "We have some catching up to do."
"Ah," JJ breathes, relief in her chest. "Well, I'll see you on Monday?" Alex makes a perplexed face. "Hotch gave us the rest of the week off. He knows how much it affected you, especially."
The linguist nods. "Okay, then." She smiles. "See you on Monday."
—o—
"You're home late." Despite the snarky comment, James smiles at her wife, relieved of her safety. She sets the wine glass she carelessly holds on a coaster and glances at the linguist with a cheeky grin.
With mocking exasperation, Alex scoffs, drags her feet tiredly, and crashes down on the couch without warning for James's legs already on the space.
"Ow!" cries the melodramatic woman, but the battered linguist doesn't budge.
Even with her ass practically sitting on her unfortunate right leg, James frowns at the look of Alex's misery. Of course, she's my wife, dumbass. The weary pain in her deep brown eyes isn't something physical, she could tell. She's only ever this sad whenever it's something that she needs to compartmentalise.
Not today, Alex. Not today.
"Sorry," she mumbles, scoots a bit to free the other woman's leg, and rests her head on her lap. She tenses, but the softness of James's fingers stroking her hair calms her.
James lets Alex breathe with a few moments of tranquility. She hasn't seen this side of her wife in a very long time. The last time was the aftermath of the Amerithrax case when Erin Strauss abandoned her and let the woman take the fall. Forgiveness was never an option for James when Alex was hurt badly for it. Her wife may have accepted the unit chief's apology, but she would never.
"Did you hear?" murmurs Alex. She lets out a big sigh. "Strauss is dead. The Replicator killed her. Kidnapped me and almost killed the team as well."
POW! It's a bomb of sudden information that leaves James to scramble and piece together the shrapnel. It was just a thought gone by, and now… "Wow," she finishes, gasping. "That's…"
Alex lifts her head and nods. There's a melancholic look in her irises. "He took away her soberness," she speaks quietly with sympathy. "She didn't deserve that. Even after my terrible history with her." She lays herself on the other woman's shoulder.
James understands. She doesn't add her input, though; everything out of her mouth will come out harsh and unapologetic. Which she is, everyone who knows her know that, but Alex is grieving. She could not bear anymore despair, especially if she's the cause of it.
"Omorfiá," she replies, her Greek tongue soothing Alex's sadness. "Koimísou tóra." Rest, darling. Please. She kisses her forehead while stroking her fingers against the chestnut hair.
Glancing, she only sees Alex tense up more and tightly wrapped her arms around the other woman's free arm like a fearful child. Then, she notices the chafing marks on the linguist's neck and wrists along with scraping cuts on the small of her back. James would've called them out in a heartbeat, but Alex would argue back and insist she's fine, and they both don't have the energy to fight even if they wanted to.
She ignores them as if it were unnoticed.
"No, can't." Alex swallows a sob and exhales. "They almost died because of me. The Replicator...he was a former colleague of mine. We both had a falling out after the Amerithrax case...I got a better chance than him. The team was going to die because of petty reasoning, and I was in the middle of it!"
James is quiet, watching helplessly as Alex becomes undone with her sobs. At the same time, she's also relieved that her wife didn't bottle up her feelings this time. The woman has a difficulty dealing with her emotions, and she's not that different. Only difference is that James lets it out whenever she could.
And knowing Alex well, she could deviate back into her self-destructing tendencies. She's an unpredictable, flamboyant woman despite her outward impressions, and there are consequences with her ways. James cannot risk her going back to a living hell again.
It isn't as bad as last time…but still… James exhales. She does feel as though she doesn't belong. I still do.
There's no way she'll end up like that again. They took each other for the better or the worse, didn't they?
—0—
I was actually searching up names for an OC when I found out that James could also used as a woman's name. And me being a gay ass for loving Alex Blake so much, this happened.
Thank the heavens for an imagination like mine!