(Hello all! So if you follow my fics, you know that I just finished my first year of Acting conservatory. I spent the past couple of months rehearsing and performing the play Eastern Standard by Richard Greenberg. It was a wonderful experience and I had lots of fun! This oneshot has been inspired by a missing scene from the play that I couldn't get out of my head. I hope you all enjoy it! Just as a warning, it does feature a very dark, manipulative, abusive Hotch, and talks extensively about suicide. Please do not read if you feel this was impact you in a negative way.)

We came to the sea to escape. That's what had been repeated, over and over. Everything had seemed to reach a new, terrifying peak of stress within the past couple of months; work was hard, life itself felt unbearable. We would all go out to Rossi's place on the coast. There was plenty of room. Room to find ourselves away from the sharp, unforgiving lights of Quantico.

We kept repeating that we were there to escape, but no one was keen to say what from. When topics of back home would arise, everyone would dance around, uncomfortable, until it passed.

It's not that I wasn't having a nice time. I was. This time off, away from the dead bodies and unthinkable cruelties had done wonder for my nerves. Getting to be with Will was nice. Well, nice is perhaps too underwhelming a word. It's just that, after everything we had undergone, after all the shit I had put him through, it was comforting to be together, and just… be.

We almost hadn't made it. Not after the affair broke. Maybe it would have been easier if he would have railed and shouted and lost his mind. Lord knows, that's what he would have done. Instead, Will couldn't look at me. He wouldn't speak a word in my direction. Even when I came to him, apologetic, and for once in my life honest, he had been stoic and composed.

Of course the only reason I had told him was because I was confident I was going to lose my job and that there was no point trying to camouflage the wildfire already consuming my life. I had been just as surprised as everyone else whenever I was allowed to stay on at the BAU even after Aaron had been unceremoniously dismissed. I suppose the higher ups saw his sins as somehow worse than mine. Granted, a superior who is caught red handed in an affair with his employee, the press liaison trusted with maintaining the Unit's image none the less, was sure to feed the flames.

So I had confessed to Will. I had tried to keep the details as vague as possible, if only to soften the blow, but he had none of it. He slowly extracted the whole dirty story from me, bit by bit. Maybe it was his way of punishing me, I'll never know. Or perhaps he was trying to convince himself to leave me. Anyone else would have. But instead he stayed.

So when the unit had been put on probation while the higher ups debated our fate, escaping to the sea had been suggested. And I had readily agreed. I'm not sure who I was trying to convince that I was mending my ways, the team, Will, myself, but I had jumped at the chance.

Of course, it's not so easy to give up an addiction. We had been at Rossi's house for only a few short days before the calls started. Jessica had deemed it necessary to take Jack away for a bit and he was spiraling. As soon as his name appeared on my phone, I would decline the call. Sixteen calls and voice mails later, I blocked the number. It only earned me a 24 hour reprieve before he began calling from a burner. I remained strong, refusing to speak to him, but then the messages became darker and darker.

I knew Aaron Hotchner. I had an odd pride in knowing every single facet of a man most chalked up as an enigma. I knew his soft smiles and his ice cold glances. I had seen him laugh so hard tears leaked from his eyes and I had seen him so angry that I had been unable stop the small seed of fear that gnawed in my stomach; Perhaps the first time he had started punching the walls of his office and I had to hide my apprehension that I could be next, I should have turned and ran the other direction. But this was also the man who I had witnessed sobbing like a small child, curled up with his head on my lap, clutching my blouse as if afraid I would disappear. So I had allowed myself to be pulled further into the lies and deception.

Never in our time together had he ever threatened to hurt himself. Unsubs, yes. Hard ass higher ups, yes. Men who we met in the field who he perceived to be overly interested in me, yes. But never himself. So when his messages began to wane from tearful pleas for me to talk to him, let him apologize, to drunken demands that I abandon Will and come back to the city, to cryptic monologues about how without me, life was meaningless and unbearable, I began to worry.

Part of me reasoned that he wouldn't do it. This was Hotch, for crying out loud. But a far larger, guilty part of me became overwrought with anxiety that he would kill himself. So I began answering his calls. I would sneak away from the group and listen. I would soothe and appease, and after all was that so bad? Was it really so awful that I was trying to help fix the mess I had made?

The night had been cooler than the ones before. A breeze whipped across the water from the North, making Garcia clutch her overlarge sunhat and Emily pull a cardigan over her dress. So we had decided to make a real night of it. We would have a bacchanal! So wine was uncorked, endless plates of appetizers were prepared, and Morgan appointed himself as DJ. As the sun went down, sending a dizzying array of reds, pinks, and purple cascading across the sky, we danced and drank, drank and danced. We laughed at the naked absurdity of it. We were FBI agents. We had chosen a career path that afforded us almost no downtime, costing us relationships left and right, and now we were at a stand still. Nowhere to go, no one to chase, except ourselves.

And so we drank some more.

The night became blurry, one song fading into another. Will and I danced on the deck, jumping from frenzied flinging of limbs to tender slow dances where he held me close and whispered wonderful things about me in my ear. Sometime after midnight we wandered, exhausted, out onto the sand. We collapsed into a laughing mess, and peered at the heavens, trying to distinguish the constellations. We fell asleep in each others arms.

Sometime around dawn, I was startled awake by the cries of seagulls. I brushed the sand from my face and gazed down at my husband. My heart was filled with an adoration that ran so deeply it was almost painful. I smoothed his hair back, waking him gently.

"Come on baby. Let's go to bed." We stumbled into the house, still intoxicated. I stifled my giggles as we came upon Rossi, splayed across a lounge chair, mouth wide open and snoring. We finally made it to the bedroom we had been sharing and he flopped backwards onto the bed, pulling me with him. Our bodies pressed against each other, warm and familiar. My hair fell around his face, cutting us off from everything else. Suddenly I was breathless, consumed with my love for him.

I pressed my lips against his. He responded enthusiastically before pulling back. "C'mon Cher, we need our sleep."

"For what?" I asked, giving him a mischievous smile. "I have nothing to do but you." I recaptured his lips and piece by piece our clothing was thrown to the floor. We explored each other's sandy skin with wet, open mouthed kisses. We let the process be slow and lingering. And when our bodies finally came together, it was both extraordinary and commonplace, like the sea crashing into the shore, again and again. There was nothing hard, nothing searching, nothing violent about it. And in the moment when we both came undone, sweaty foreheads pressed together and hearts pounding in our ears, I resolved that this was my end all. I would never go back to Aaron Hotchner. I could be quite content, here in my husbands arms.

As I relaxed into the cool sheets, legs still tangled with Will's, my phone began to ring. I instinctively declined the call. It could certainly wait until morning. But it kept ringing, over and over. Will groaned and rolled over, already in the world of dreamers. Finally, I picked it up and looked at the screen, knowing what number I would see. I wrapped myself in a towel from the floor and stole forth into the hall. I let myself into an empty room as I answered the call.

"It's six am, Aaron."

"Jen… I can't. I'm sorry."

I took a deep breath, steeling myself against whatever he was going to say. It was time to end this, once and for all. "You have to stop calling me."

"I can't. I need you. Please. Everything else will be okay, me losing my job, it's fine as long as I have you."

"I'm serious. I can't do this anymore. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to me, and it damn sure isn't fair to Will."

"Will," he sneered, "Precious Will. He'll never make you happy. You know that. It's why you came to me in the first place."

"I didn't… That's not how it happened and you know it." I sighed. I couldn't allow him to manipulate me.

"I remember you crying about how he didn't understand our jobs, didn't understand the commitment needed. I also remember how you looked, laid across my desk. You certainly weren't asking for Will then, were you?"

Shame washed through me. "I can't change what happened, but I can change what's happening now. And I can't do this to him any longer."

"Then leave him."

"No."

"If he's really so great, don't you think he deserves better than you? Someone who can really love him? Someone who won't be on her knees for her boss any time she has the chance? Someone who's not an emotionally stunted little bitch?"

This was not the first time he had resorted to merciless bullying, but the words still stung. I tried to control the shakiness of my voice even as I wiped the tears from my cheek. "He does deserve better than me. That's why I'm lucky he's still here."

"But he won't be. He doesn't understand you like me. He's going to wake up one day and realize what a selfish slut you are and he's going to walk away. But I… I will never leave you Jen. I can't exist without you. I'm losing my mind."

"I… I can't do this anymore, Aaron."

"Yes you can. Come back to the city."

I took a deep breath. "No. No Hotch," I pause letting the use of his last name sink in, "I'm not coming back. I can't. I'm moving on and you should to."

"But I love you." His tears were so thick that I had trouble discerning his words.

"And I love you. But this is over. We're done."

The line went silent for a moment. "Then you leave me no choice, if I can't have you in my life I don't want to live." Then the unmistakable sounds of his phone falling to the floor met my ears, followed by dead silence. I could only sit, paralyzed.

"Hotch? Hotch?! Aaron?!" No reply. I frantically hung up and redialed. It rang and rang, no one picked up. Panic coursed through my veins, any trace of last night's alcohol was long gone. I stood alone in the bedroom, the early morning sun streaming through the windows. I couldn't breath. I didn't know what to do. So I stood in silence, clutching my phone.

Finally, after what must have been hours, my phone rang. I recognized his number and immediately picked up. "Aaron, what the-"

"Is this Jennifer Jareau?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

I stilled, confused. "Yes, who is this?"

"My name is Adrian Parks, calling from MedStar Washington. You were listed as the emergency contact for Aaron Hotchner?"

"Yes? Is he alright?"

The man on the other end sighed. "Well he was brought in after a concerned neighbor called 911. It looks like an attempted suicide."

The world began to spin around me and I lowered myself to the floor. "Oh my god… he… wait, attempted? He's alive?"

"Yes. He'll be released within the next couple of hours, but it would probably be best if you were available for him. He needs someone."

"Of course! Yes… yes…" He hung up, leaving me to stare at my phone in horror. I did this. I drove him to this.

When I let myself back into Will and I's room, he wasn't in bed. My head in a fog, I put last night's dress back on, but my underwear were nowhere in sight. I haphazardly grabbed any clothes I could see and threw them in a bag. He tried to kill himself. You were busy fucking Will and he tried to die. I caught sight of myself in the mirror as I open the door, and not for the first time, I couldn't recognize the woman looking back.

Will drove us there. That was obviously not how I was leaving. The bus station. If I could just get to the station I could take a bus back. I went back out to the deck, hoping to catch Rossi alone so I could beg for a ride. What I wasn't expecting was to find the entire household gathered outside.

"JJ what's wrong?" Will asked immediately. He must have been able to tell by my face that something had happened.

"Nothing," I attempted to deflect, "everything is fine. I… I have to get back to the city."

"Why?"

I forced myself to meet Emily's eyes. "It's nothing important, but I have to get back. There's something I have to attend to."

"Like what? I mean, we're still on probation, right?" asked Morgan.

"No, we are I just… It's hard to explain. Rossi could you drive me to the bus station?"

Before he could answer, Will cut in. "Well if you need to go to the city I'll drive you."

I shook my head, aware that I was tapping my foot but unable to knock it off, the nauseating spin of guilt and shame and anxiety threatening to overcome me. "No it's fine. Stay here, enjoy the water. I just have to get to the bus, I can take it from there."

"I don't understand why-"

"Hotch."

When Garcia interrupted Emily I could actually feel the blood drain from my face. My heart jumped into my throat. Everyone was brought to a stand still.

"What are you talking about?" I challenged.

"It's Hotch. You've been talking to him." I tried to stutter out a negation but couldn't speak, so she continued. "I've been tracking his activity. When all of his calls suddenly cut off a few days after we arrived, it seemed to good to be true. So I dived into his financials and your phone records too. And I realized that he must have purchased a burner phone."

Will slowly turned to look at me. "Is that true?" I didn't think I could feel more ashamed of myself, but I was dead wrong.

"Will I-"

"You said it was over. You said you were through."

I couldn't bare him looking at me, his eyes wide and distraught. "I… He…"

"Do you lie about a lot of things?" I can't answer him. "Why JJ?!" Anger finally found it's way into his voice, almost masking the betrayal.

"He tried to do it, okay? He tried to kill himself. I was here and he… he…"

"Who cares? JJ you don't get to worry about him anymore! He's not your concern! Goddamn it, look at me!"

I looked to Rossi instead. "Please, I just need to get to the bus station." He slowly shook his head, his face sad and disappointed.

"Morgan? Spence?"

They avoided my desperate gaze.

"Emily." It came out as barely a whisper.

"I'm sorry Jayje, but no. I can't support this. Regardless of the fact that you've been lying to all of us, for weeks, he will destroy you. He's on a downward tear and he'll take you with him. It's not healthy, it's not… No. I'm sorry, I can't."

"No one's gonna take you there, JJ."

"...Will."

"And I'd wager no one will take you back, neither." His comment landed like a punch in the stomach. But all the same, I had to get to Aaron. I had to right my wrongs.

"Fine," I finally spat . "I'll get there."

"JJ, please-"

I cut Garcia off before she could start. "No. It's done. I'm gone."

And I turned on my heel and stormed away.

That's how I found myself, walking along the main road, tears pouring down my face. A car of teenage boys tore past, slowing to shout disgusting things at me.

He tried to kill himself. You may as well have pulled the trigger yourself.

The bus to DC wasn't long, but seemed to last an eternity. The whole ride I stared out the window and gnawed on my fingernails until they were bloody and raw. There was no telling what was waiting for me. Once in the city, I take a train from the bus depot. The closer I got to Aaron's apartment, the more I wished that time would slow down. Suddenly, I was outside of his door. I knocked but there was no answer. Trying the knob, I found it open.

Inside was dark. I tiptoed through the living room, searching for the smallest sign of life. He wasn't in the dining room, or kitchen. The bathroom was empty. I was immensely glad that it didn't bear signs of what had happened this morning. The nurse didn't go into details on how Aaron had hurt himself, so my mind had taken it upon itself to conjure up grisly portraits of the waiting carnage. But there was no blood as far as I could see. Left with no other choice, I gently pushed open the bedroom door. The curtains were drawn, but I could still see the silhouette of him sitting at the end of his bed by the early afternoon light filtering in. I could smell him in the air. I let my bag slide from my shoulder onto the floor. I approached slowly and silently.

"You came." His voice was low and gravelly. I nodded, not trusting my ability to speak.. "I wasn't sure you would. What with you moving on."

I cleared my throat. "I'm glad you're okay" He didn't respond. I tentatively took a step closer. "What I mean is, I guess, are you okay?" He merely shrugged, his eyes trained on the ground. My hand reached out of it's own accord and cupped his jaw, his skin stubbly. He leaned into my touch before turning slightly so that he could kiss the inside of my wrist.

"I'm so glad you came."

"Have you had anything to eat today? Or yesterday?"

He looked at me with tired, solemn eyes. "I really am. Glad you came."

"Yeah. Me too, I guess." I eased down onto the bed next to him. The air was thick with tension. Slowly, he lowered himself until his head was resting in my lap. My hands naturally found their way into his thick, dark hair and he ran a hand up and down my calf. We stayed in that same position for hours as beyond the curtains the sky darkened.

"You need to eat something." He still didn't answer. "Aaron."

"I don't want to. My stomach can't handle it; It'll just come right back up."

Shame weighed heavy on my soul. "Oh god… Is that… Pills?"

He shook his head. "No, not pills."

"Then you…" Part of me felt wrong for asking but I needed to know. Surely it couldn't be worse than what I had imagined. He burrowed his face into my leg.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay." I resumed stroking his hair.

"You left Will? For good?" I shifted, searching for words. Had I left Will?

"I'm not sure."

"You did. You're here. You made your choice. You chose me."

"Well, I don't know if chose is the word I would use. I mean, this is a pretty particular circumstance."

"No Jayje. You're here."

"Well I was worried about you. The nurse on the phone, he said you needed someone here. I was your emergency contact."

"You could have called Jessica." This was true. I could have. Instead, I dropped everything and ran to DC. He raises up so he can look at me. "You chose me. You might not realize it right now, but you did. And it's for the best. Will doesn't love you like I do."

"He loves me."

"Not enough. I was willing to do anything to see you again." He leaned forward and kissed me hungrily, His fingers gripped my hair, almost to the point of pain. As he leaned into me, trying to push me backwards onto the bed, a bell began to go off in my mind.

"What do you mean?" I asked, pulling away.

He resumed his frantic kisses, this time on my jaw and neck. "I had to see you. No matter what I had to do."

I pushed on his shoulders, needing space. "What are you saying, Aaron?"

He meets my gaze. "You said you were through; that you had moved on. I had to show you that you didn't really mean it. You belong with me." He tried to kiss me again.

I pushed him back again, this time coming to a standing position. "Are you… What… You tried to kill yourself in the hopes that it would make me leave Will? That doesn't…" Nothing was computing. It didn't make sense. I met his eyes and for the first time noticed the wild glint contained there. Then a horrible thought came into my mind. No… He wouldn't. There's no way he was capable of such a despicable lie.

"Did you try to kill yourself?" It was blunt and rude but I had to know.

"Well, it's a long story…"

"Hotch. What did you do?"

"I needed you. I can't go on without you. I had to get you here."

"But… No, the hospital called me. I spoke to a nurse on the phone, he said…" But as I look at him, the awful truth became clearer and clearer. "You lied. You… lied to me! And after everything… You know what happened with Ros and you…" My stomach lurched and the room seemed to spin around me. When I finally spoke again, my voice cracked with betrayal. "You lied to me."

"I didn't have a choice! I could feel you slipping away, I couldn't t lose you, not when I've lost everything else."

"You… I… I left Will. I left him to come here."

He jumped to his feet grabbing my shoulders tightly. "And he let you go! Can't you see that? You left both of us and he let you go. I fought for what I knew I deserved. I love you, we belong together."

I shoved his chest as hard as I could. "I can't believe you would do this. I… Oh my god. I can't believe I ruined my life with Will for you. This is… And elaborate! Jesus Christ! Who was the guy on the phone?"

He licked his lips. "I found a guy… He was down on his luck, he needed the cash, he agreed to call you."

Hysterical laughter erupted from within me, unhinged, but I was powerless to stop it. "It was just some homeless guy off the street? And I… I walked right into it! I whole heartedly believed that this was a depth that even you weren't capable of sinking to. But I was wrong. I was so, so, fucking wrong. I can't believe I ever loved you. I can't believe I thought you loved me."

"I do love you! Can't you see that? That's why I did all of this." I stepped forward and grabbed my hand but I wrenched it back.

"Don't touch me."

His face took on an angry tint and he grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me closer. "Don't talk to me like that, Jayje." He squeezed harder, until it felt like my bones would splinter.

"Let go of me."

"No. I'm not letting you leave until you realize that I only did what you forced me to do." We struggled back and forth, then I brought my head back and spat in his face. He let go of my wrist in shock, bringing his hands to wipe at his face. Then, before I had a second to prepare myself, he backhanded me across the face.

It felt as if my cheek was on fire. When I looked back at him, I could see my own shock reflected in his eyes. My breath coming in huge sobs, I grabbed my purse from the floor and made for the front door. "JJ wait! I'm sorry!" But I didn't turn back. I simply slammed the door behind me.

Once out on the street, I walked in a blind panic, tears still streaming down my cheeks. Finally, I crumpled onto a curb near a park. As I stared out into the dusk, I couldn't shake the shock. I had prided myself on knowing Aaron Hotchner, every single facet. It turns out, I didn't know the first thing about him and what he was capable of. A cold breeze blew my hair into my eyes and I began to shiver.

Will. I wanted Will. More than anything else on Earth I wanted to be in his arms. I wanted to take back every single thing that had happened. I would give my life to go back to the first time I kissed Aaron. I would go back and walk out of his office. But I couldn't.

My eye began to swell where I had caught the main impact of the blow. Prodding it gently with the pads of my fingers confirmed that it would more than likely bruise. There would be no hiding what ad happened with Hotch.

But I was tired of hiding. I was tired of lying and sneaking. I wasn't sure if it was possible, but I wanted to fix things with Will, if he would have me. I stood up from the curb and dusted off the back of my dress. I smoothed down my hair and wiped away what tears I could. We had gone to the sea to escape, that's true. But now I had to return. There was no escaping the mistakes I had made. But perhaps by facing everything head on, there would be some small semblance of hope on the other side.