AN: This is a companion piece to Black Cat so you should probably read that before you read this.
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, nor do I own Alice's Adventures in Wonderland or Snow Patrol.
To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbyes
I nearly do.
- Snow Patrol, Run
February 2005:
"Aww mama do I have to wear that helmet? It's pink and it has sparkles! I'm fourteen, not six!" I complained to my mama.
"You will wear it not just because I bought it for you, but because you have hockey practice in an hour and it was the only goalie helmet left." She scowled at me. "Besides, you're the one who cracked the last one fooling around."
"Mama I told you, it was Michael Wesson who stomped on my helmet, not me. I don't weigh nearly enough to crack it," I whined.
"Catherine Jareau do not argue with your mother. Grab your hockey bag and bring it out to the car. We need to leave in two minutes," said my father in his most authoritative voice.
My reply was a quiet, sullen, "Yes daddy."
Practice was brutal; my team was getting ready for the playoffs. I was so tired and sore that after I showered and changed into normal clothes I couldn't even be bothered to argue when my daddy put that atrocious helmet back onto my head with a silly grin on his face. My daddy helped me climb into the backseat of the car, behind my mama. My fingers felt like lead and so my daddy also buckled my seat-belt. He climbed into the driver's seat and leaned over towards my mama; I looked away until he was finished kissing her. Then my daddy drove out of the parking lot slowly because it was snowing heavily. Mama was fiddling with the radio, trying to find a news station.
I was resting my eyes, mostly asleep, but the drive home from the arena was so familiar that I knew exactly where we were. There is a turn coming up to get on the highway and then its only another fifteen minutes 'til we get home and I can go to bed. There was a bright light and I groaned and opened my eyes, shading them from the annoying high beams of the truck coming towards us. Wait a minute, truck! Why was there a truck in our lane? My sleep-addled brain couldn't process what was happening.
Mama screamed and my daddy, swearing like a sailor, swerved, trying to get out of the way of the truck. The truck also swerved on the icy highway and we couldn't get out of the way. The cab hit the front of our small car with a loud crunch. My daddy stopped swearing but my mama didn't stop screaming, as our car flipped over and rolled off the highway down into the ditch. My head hit the window a few times as we rolled. The car landed upside-down. I felt my ribs groan and a few give out, I cried out in pain. My body felt like it was on fire, everything hurt. When I looked at my leg, it took all of my concentration not to throw up or panic: there was a bone sticking out of my leg. I blacked out.
Someone must have called 911. I sure didn't and neither did my mama nor my daddy. The paramedics checked on my daddy first. I couldn't understand why they weren't helping him; his head was covered in blood. Then they checked on my mama. She was pinned down by something that I couldn't see. The medics removed my half-conscious body on a backboard from the wreckage first. I could see someone getting into the car behind my mama, where I had just been; they were putting a collar around her neck. I kept calling out for her, hoping she would respond.
The ride in the ambulance was confusing; the paramedics kept asking me questions and I was too tired to answer them. Someone started cutting my sweatpants at my ankle and I started panicking, thrashing about and that just made the pain in my leg worse, but I couldn't calm down. Rational thought was in no way present in my head. The medics must have sedated me because that was the last thing I remember from the ambulance.
When I woke up in the hospital, I was just as panicked as I had been in the ambulance. I didn't know where I was and I started hyperventilating. A nurse came in and tried to get me to calm down. Her first mistake was grabbing me; I shrieked. Her second mistake was calling for the male orderlies to come help her. I have no idea how I got out of bed, but I did and I made it all the way over to the corner of the room, behind the chair and the bedside table. The people in the room with me were making my panic attack worse and I don't think they knew it. I managed to call out for Jen; my voice was frail and pitiful even to my own ears. She didn't appear and I started panicking even more. I curled up into a ball and covered my head with my arms. I don't know how long I sat like that. The orderlies tried to move the chair, which was bolted down, to get to me but I started crying and they backed off a bit. They stayed, hovering about in the room; it did not help me calm down.
I heard someone else come into the room and the orderlies and nurse leaving. I could hear raised, angry voices out in the hallway. I risked inciting further panic by looking up, but it was Jen. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy; she looked like she had been crying. She was holding my sparkly pink helmet in her hands. I took my eyes off her for a split second, risking a look through the glass wall behind my sister. I wanted to see who was shouting. It was my sister's boss Aaron Hotchner. My sharp intake of breath caught Jen's attention; she looked at me just as I looked back at her. Our eyes locked and she put the helmet down one the hospital bed, keeping her hands open and in my line of sight. She approached me cautiously, the same way one would approach a scared or wounded animal.
"Hey Kitty Cat," her voice cracked, "I heard you were calling for me."
"Jenny," I said, my voice sounded broken. "Where's mama? Where's daddy? Why aren't they here? Where is here?" She started crying and I looked at her with confusion written all over my face. I struggled to get the words out again, "Jenny, where's mama?"
She cut me off, "Kitty Cat."
I looked at her expectantly.
Her face crumpled. "Come out from back there and we can talk."
I shook my head emphatically.
"Please?" she whispered brokenly to me. "Please come out."
"I can't get up," I whispered back.
She laughed then said, "Can I come over there and help you get up?"
I took a deep breath and nodded, placing my limited and extremely exhausted trust in my big sister. The pounding in my head was getting worse.
Jen helped me to stand and then we were stuck because there wasn't enough space for me to fit between the chair and the bedside table. Jen let out a weak laugh, "How did you get yourself back there?"
"I don't know," I replied, my breathing speeding up. "I can't remember, Jen, I can't remember."
"Shh!" she said, "it's going to be okay Kitty Cat. Do you think you can stand on your own for a minute, I'll go get Derek to lift you up okay?"
"No!" I cried out. "Don't leave!"
"Okay," she placated me, "I won't leave, but I'm going to have to call out to him. Are you ready?"
I shook my head no.
She looked at me hard and using her mom voice said, "Catherine you need to come out from behind the chair and I can't lift you and you can't get out by yourself. We need Derek."
I looked away and nodded yes once.
"Morgan!" Jen called out.
His head came around the corner, "What is it JJ?"
"Can you help me get Catherine out from behind the chair please?" exasperation was evident in her voice.
He laughed, looked at me and asked, "How did you do that Princess?"
I kept my head down in embarrassment, not looking at his face.
Derek came closer slowly with his hands in view. When he was close enough he told me what he was going to do before he did it. I don't think I had ever been so grateful that Jen's team knew me so well before. Derek lifted me up and over the side table. Then he sat me down on the bed and backed up slowly towards the door. I could see Spence, Aaron and Jason on the other side of the glass window. I looked away from the team and at my sister.
"Jen," I started again, as she was getting me back under the blankets and reattaching the monitors.
She sat down on the bed next to me. "You're in the hospital Kitty Cat."
"I know that now, Jen," I answered back then quickly asked, "Where are mama and daddy?"
Jen took a deep breath looked me in the eyes and said, "There was an accident Catherine. Mama and daddy died."
"You're lying!" I spat at her furiously. "They're not dead. You shouldn't be making a joke like that Jen; it's cruel."
She started crying, "I'm not lying Catherine."
"You have to be," I said with conviction. "You have to be lying. They're not allowed to die."
Jen's chuckle was weak. "I don't think you're the one who gets to decide who lives and dies Kitty Cat."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the team with their backs to the window, blocking passersby from view. Privacy? I though, hmm, I frowned and suddenly it clicked. The team wouldn't be here if something horrible hadn't happened. "You weren't lying…" I said and started to cry.
Jen climbed further up onto the bed and wrapped her arms around me. With my head buried in her shoulder, she started crying quietly.
When our tears subsided, Jen said, "You were unconscious for a long time. The sedatives wore off and you didn't wake up. I was scared that I might lose you too."
"From four to three back up to four and now down to two," I said morbidly.
"Don't talk like that," she scolded me.
"Where am I going to go now Jen?" I asked.
"Well you need to stay here for a few weeks kiddo. Your leg was broken pretty badly and you have a concussion and a few fractured ribs." She hedged.
"I meant after that and you know it Jen." I frowned at her.
"You could come live with me," she offered. "Or you could live with Aunt Charlotte and Tanya."
"No way. I'm not living with Tanya, she hates me, and Aunt Charlotte thinks I'm a baby."
"Catherine," she said, using her mom voice again.
"It's true Jen and you know it. I want to live with you," I said.
"We won't know anything until mama and daddy's will is read." She hedged again. "Try and get some sleep okay?"
"Don't leave me!" I begged, tightening my grip on her hand
"It's okay; I'm not leaving. I'm just going to call the rest of the team in."
"Please don't, not yet," I pleaded.
She looked at me, "Catherine, I can either call them in now or I can go out to talk to them and then come back."
"Can I pretend I'm asleep when you call them in?" I asked.
She smiled at me, kissed the top of my head and said, "Of course Kitty Cat."
Jen reached over, tapped on the window, and motioned the team to come in. I kept my eyes open just a sliver so I could see where everyone was standing. Spencer sat down on the chair closest to the bed. Derek sat in the other chair halfway across the room. Aaron stood at the end of the bed and Jason closed the door and leaned against it. The room was quiet except for the sounds of breathing and the steady beeping of the machines monitoring my vitals.
Aaron spoke first with a measured tone, "The staff didn't bother looking into Catherine's previous medical history before she woke up. That oversight has since been corrected."
Spencer piped up, "Yeah, Hotch really gave it to them good."
I could feel Jen laughing.
Derek snorted, "They thought she was just a regular kid who had been in a car accident. They don't know just how special our princess is."
I smiled a little bit into Jen's shoulder.
"Grabbing someone when they first wake up is always a bad idea. Especially when they have been unconscious for a long period of time," Jason added quietly.
"How long was she out for?" asked Derek.
"About ten hours," said Jen with a sigh. "The tests were normal, just a slight concussion and probably some amnesia. The doctors are going to want to run more tests now that she's awake."
I was surprised; I didn't know that I had been unconscious so long. I was also anxious and a little bit angry. I didn't want to go anywhere with the doctors. I hate doctors and I hate hospitals.
A phone rang and Derek answered it. We could only hear his half of the conversation: "Baby Girl. Yes we're here. Yes Catherine woke up. No, she's not awake right now so you can't talk to her. Yes I will ask her to call you. No you don't need to come up -it's a six-hour drive Penelope. That's fine. Bye Mama."
"JJ we're going to check into a hotel alright? Do you need a room as well?" asked Aaron.
"No, I'm going to stay here for now," she replied.
"Call if you need anything. We'll be back later," Aaron said, as he was leaving.
Jason and Derek followed him out.
"Let's go Kid," Derek called out to Spencer from the door.
"I'll be along in a little while," he said.
I could hear three sets of footsteps walking away from my room. I could also hear Spencer when he rose from the chair. "You need to regulate your breathing more Kitty Cat if you want us to believe that you're actually asleep."
I opened my eyes and whispered, "Hi Spence."
"Can I sit down?" he asked, gesturing towards the end of the bed.
I looked at him for a moment, sizing him up before I nodded.
He sat down gently, being careful of my cast covered leg. When he placed his hand on the bed, halfway between us, I smiled and laced my fingers through his.
I felt safe wrapped up in Jen's arms, holding Spencer's hand and the room was quiet enough that I fell asleep for real. Jen woke me up with a whisper in my ear soon after. The doctor was standing just inside the doorway; Spencer had placed himself between the doctor and myself. I twitched a bit when I saw the doctor; he looked like my dad. Jen hugged me tighter while the doctor explained the tests that needed to be done; CT and MRI just to name a few. I started to cry when he told us that the pink hockey helmet I was wearing, during the crash, probably saved my life. That horrible hot pink sparkly helmet meant that I lived while my parents died. The guilt was overwhelming.
I refused to go anywhere unless Jen came with me; I shot Spencer a covert apologetic look.
He saw it, smiled at me and added in his two cent: "Did you know that if Catherine lived in Quebec, Canada, she would be allowed to make her own medical decisions because she is fourteen?"
The doctor was not happy but Jen insisted on accompanying me so he didn't really have a choice.
The rest of Jen's team was waiting for us when we got back to my room. Spencer was asleep in the chair next to the bed. He looked so young; I had to remind myself that he is only 23, just 9 years older than I am. Jen explained the latest test results to her team. The damage to my right leg was extensive: a compound fracture to my femur, with a risk of infection and a broken ankle. I also had a few dislocated and fractured ribs, as well as a fractured pelvis. It was now obvious why my body hurt so much. I would need surgery and then months of physiotherapy.
Jen's team stayed for the weekend, then they had to go back to work. I was sad to see Derek and Spencer leave. Penelope sent me flowers the next morning and every week after. She even came to visit with the rest of the team the following weekend for the funeral. The surgery went well and I needed to wear this annoying brace to keep my pelvis still so that it would heal properly. I was told that I wouldn't even get a walking cast until right before I was going home and that wouldn't be for another three weeks.
I was happy when I moved out of the ICU and into a regular room because this room came with a view of sorts, and more privacy. You could see trees outside the window and there was no window in the wall. It also had a bigger bed, so there was more space for Jen to lie down with me.
The funeral was difficult; Aaron actually bullied my doctor into letting me attend. My aunt Charlotte did most of the planning for the funeral because Jen was always at the hospital with me. I had started having panic attacks when Jen was gone for more than ten minutes. I know it was really tough on her to be constantly at my side. Penelope, Jen and I spent some time together talking about how Penelope also lost her parents in a car crash.
After the funeral, which I attended in a wheelchair, and the wake, Jen drove me back to the hospital. I was dozing in my room, Jen was down the hall, I wasn't happy but Spencer was keeping me company and that kept me mostly calm. The rest of the team went out buying dinner. There were two old ladies standing outside my room. I was trying to block out their voices because I desperately needed sleep but the sharp voice of Mrs. Muller rang in my ears. "First their oldest daughter Jessica dies and now their replacement child has gotten Mr. and Mrs. Jareau killed. If they had never had her, they would still be alive."
I started crying softly, and kept repeating, "Four, three, four, two."
Spencer wanted to know what was wrong and why were the numbers important, but I couldn't answer him. I just kept crying.
When Jen came back Spencer tried to explain what was wrong: "There were two ladies talking outside, I wasn't listening but Catherine started crying and she wont stop repeating the numbers."
Jen sighed in frustration. "I heard them Spence. They were saying that Catherine got our parents killed." She turned towards me, "It is not true. My baby sister did not get our parents killed."
"Why are the numbers important JJ?" asked Spence.
"It's the fluctuation of numbers of members in our family."
"I get the four and the two," said Spencer "but what about the three?"
Jen released another sigh and said shortly, "I had an older sister before Catherine was born. She died."
"Oh," he said. "How soon was Catherine born after your other sister died?" asked Spence.
"About eleven months," said Jen.
"Oh, so she probably wasn't a replacement child," said Spencer, "just an accident."
Jen gave a short laugh and said, "No, she was a replacement child for Jessica; we both know it. Catherine was born nine weeks early."
"Oh." Spencer blushed.
Then the subject was dropped. Jen climbed into bed with me and held me while I cried and Spencer went back to his books. I calmed down and was almost asleep when the team came back with dinner. I wasn't hungry but Jen wouldn't let me sleep until I ate something, so I did.
I had a few visitors from school and from my hockey team. I pushed myself to do homework. I know Jen didn't think it was important but schoolwork was the only thing that made sense in the mess that was our lives. I wanted to graduate as soon as possible. I was sure that if I were to be in university soon, it would be easier to live with Jen. I spoke with Spencer on the phone; he told me that if it was necessary, then I could apply for early graduation. I really liked that idea, but I wouldn't be able to finish all my grade twelve classes in time to graduate that June. We made plans for me to graduate in December and start University in January. Planning with Spencer was calming; it was something I could control.
Towards the end of February, the panic attacks slowed down. Jen could leave the room for an hour or so before I started getting worried. I wanted to go home, but I didn't know where home was anymore.
And in one little moment
It all implodes
But this isn't everything you are
Breathe deeply in the silence
No sudden moves
This isn't everything you are.
- Snow Patrol, This Isn't Everything You Are
