The Art of Butterflies

"Hotch!"

The familiar voice broke him through the fog, though thought wasn't nearly possible. If his eyes were open, he didn't know – he was blinded by pain. He wanted nothing more than to slip back into the darkness, but memory tugged at the corners of his mind – memory that he couldn't let slip away. Somehow, he knew it was important.

"Aaron, damnit, wake up!" Rossi yelled, causing the pain in his head to flare, flashing like lightning against the darkness he saw. Hotch groaned, feeling as if someone had split his head in two and lit it on fire.

"Stop yelling." Prentiss's voice was softer, and he recognized now that his eyes were open – fuzzy shapes danced before his eyes, as if he were looking through a rain sodden window. One of the shapes grew smaller, lowering itself before him. He moaned again, wanting to sit up but knowing it would be futile.

Prentiss touched his face gently, and he suddenly found the action familiar, as if he'd done the same to someone recently. His thoughts shut down with another incapacitating flash of pain, and he hissed at the dissipating memory. Was that what had been so important?

"Sir, the ambulances are on their way." Even the quiet way she was speaking caused infinite pain. "If you can hear me, squeeze my hand." He felt her hand in his.

He did, though the reaction took time to get to his hand from his brain.

"Good." She didn't bother to ask what had happened – he couldn't answer anyway, but she hadn't failed to notice the pool of blood a foot or so from where he lay. It wasn't possible for the blood to be his, and JJ wasn't there. Prentiss could see in the eyes of the team that they'd also put two and two together.

"Reid, I need you here – see what you can deduct from around the area. Rossi, Morgan – until the ambulance arrives, look for her." Her voice was hesitant – both at taking sudden control of the team when Rossi probably should have been the one to do so – and at acknowledging their friend was missing. "I'll take over for Rossi once the ambulances get here." She promised, meeting his eyes. He nodded – he'd be going in the ambulance with his friend.

"I'll call Garcia and get the CSI here." Morgan said regretfully, not wanting to have to alert their technical analyst about both Hotch and JJ. "I'm going to kill this son of a bitch. That's a promise." He added in a growl, before departing with Rossi to check the perimeter, hopeful but knowing in his heart that they wouldn't find her.

She was gone.

--

When she woke up, the first thought in her head was of Reid. Was this what he had seen when he'd woken up in Tobias' barn? Was this what he had felt? If it had, she was so sorry. She suddenly felt she knew what it was like to be him – why he had struggled so much.

She then realized it was cold, and that her side still hurt, though it wasn't bleeding and a bandage was pressed there.

Had the team found Hotch yet? She remembered the side of the gun flying to hit her boss in the side of the head and she grimaced for his pain rather than her own.

"You're awake."

She bit back the urge to say something nasty – she didn't know how this man would handle it. She wasn't a profiler like they were, though she'd learned enough to know a bit more than the basics. She knew he was killing because he saw himself as emasculated in a woman's role. Would a comment from her do any good? She forced herself to think it through but failed miserably as a wave of pain nearly forced her to vomiting.

What would Henry do without a mother?

"I hope you're enjoying our little house here – you see, JJ, I've set this up just for us. You like that, don't you?"

She looked up daringly to find his face. There was a craziness in his gray eyes that she couldn't fathom.

"You wanted to meet me face to face, didn't you?" He crooned, madness seeping from him. His hair was sparse and he was nowhere near fit.

"What…" She swallowed and tried again, hating her weakness. "… are you talking about?"

He smiled and she hated it, but squared her jaw. She'd do this – she'd do this for Henry and she'd do this for Will, she'd do this for her team because she knew that Hotch would beat himself up over this and Reid would too, and that Morgan wouldn't stop until he'd found Anthony Bennett and ended it. She'd do this because she knew that she couldn't leave her friends – Prentiss and Garcia, she couldn't leave them to handle the guys all by themselves. She'd do this because Rossi was finally starting to understand what teamwork was and she didn't want to take the faith in this team away from him.

She'd do this.

"Because, JJ," He said, the madness replaced with a smile. "I saw you there, on the TV screen – you're not afraid of me. You've never been afraid. All that time, you talked about me but you didn't show fear, not like the women I've shown the truth to – and I'm so tired of all you women not knowing how to treat a man, how to respect and be afraid of him – and you're not afraid, JJ. Why aren't you afraid?"

She met his eyes, squared her jaw once more, and spoke her first lie.

"Because, Anthony – you're nothing to be afraid of." And you won't break me.

--

TBC

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I'm glad that you enjoyed it and I can't wait to continue writing it.