A/N: So, just as I promised the lovely reviewers who gave me such a pick-me-up after a not so lovely week, here is the next chapter. Thanks for reading and reviewing :) I hope you enjoy the latest update.
The surge of panic experienced on entering the emergency room and searching for a loved one never got easier, despite the number of times she had done it. But at some point on the tense drive to the hospital, JJ had recovered from her initial shock and adopted the tough exterior she reserved for work. Inside she was still trembling, but her eyes were dry as she strode towards the reception desk.
"I'm looking for my husband," she told the receptionist. "William LaMontagne."
"Jennifer," came a voice from the waiting area behind her, interrupting before she could receive any indication of Will's whereabouts or condition.
She turned around to find Will's captain getting to his feet, and saw that a small group of police officers were congregated in the chairs.
"Where is he?" she asked, feeling her newfound confidence falter as she observed the faces of her husband's colleagues.
Emily and Hotch, who had accompanied JJ to the hospital, also experienced a sinking feeling at the appearance of the of the officers in front of them. They wore the expressions of a team suffering from the shock and pain which could only be brought about by the prospect of losing one of their own.
"They took him through to a trauma room - we haven't heard anything yet," the captain replied.
"How was he when he came in? Were you with him?" Her questions spilled from her mouth as her hope that his injuries were minor was extinguished.
"Officer Dale was with him," he replied, gesturing towards a young police officer who was sitting with his head in his hands.
Upon hearing his name, the officer looked up, revealing the white dressing on his forehead and the tear tracks on his smoke stained face. JJ's breath caught in her throat as her mind suggested reasons for his upset.
"You're LaMontagne's wife?" he asked, his voice reflecting his tired and broken state.
JJ nodded, anxiously biting her lip and playing with the folds of her dress over her swollen abdomen.
"How was he?" she asked.
"He was conscious," the officer replied, starting with the most positive news he could offer the heavily pregnant wife of his superior. "The paramedics said it was serious but he was still talking when we got to the hospital."
JJ tried to hold onto the scrap of good news. Will had been able to talk. That meant he had been breathing and there was nothing to suggest that had changed. But there was something that his colleagues weren't saying that bothered her.
"What aren't you telling me?" she asked cautiously, unsure if she was ready for the answer.
She could feel Emily and Hotch stepping a little closer as the police officers exchanged uncomfortable looks.
"It's not about Will," the captain assured her. "It's the other two men who were in the building with him - they were pronounced dead at the scene."
"Oh..." she responded, at a loss for words. Despite her attempts to prepare herself for the worst, she still hadn't anticipated an incident so severe. As she processed the fact that two of Will's colleagues were dead, she felt her carefully composed exterior begin to falter again.
"Were they from your precinct?" Hotch asked, taking charge of the conversation so that JJ could collect her thoughts.
The captain nodded sombrely in response.
"I'm very sorry for your loss," he continued. While the BAU had managed to come through their many scrapes with the team intact, he knew how difficult it was to lose one of your own.
Emily took hold of JJ's arm, offering her some support. She didn't like the way her friend seemed to sway on her feet as she remained quiet and lost in her thoughts.
"Do you want to sit down?" she asked, quietly enough that she didn't attract the attention of everyone else around them.
JJ shook her head determinedly and tried to regain her centre of balance so that she wouldn't need to lean on Emily.
"I just need to see Will," she insisted, turning back towards the reception desk.
"Mrs LaMontagne?" the receptionist asked kindly.
JJ nodded, not bothering to correct the woman as to her name. Mrs LaMontagne was the only person she wanted to be right now.
"Your husband has just been taken up to surgery. His doctor will be here to speak to you in a moment," she explained.
"Do you have any details of his condition?" Emily asked, feeling JJ wobble slightly, before she managed to lock her knees into a position which would hold her upright.
"I'm afraid I don't," the receptionist replied, with surprising patience considering that her job must have consisted of relaying the same message to distressed relatives multiple times each night. "But the doctor will be with you as soon as he can."
JJ sighed - she could only hope that the doctor's interpretation of "soon" was the same as hers.
/
/
Thankfully it really wasn't too much longer before JJ, and her friends, had been ushered through to an office. Emily and Hotch, who had made it very clear they weren't leaving her side, were relieved that she had finally taken a seat. Her unsteadiness was unsettling to say the least.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting so long," the doctor apologised, as he entered the office and closed the door behind him. "Which one of you is Mrs LaMontagne?" he asked.
Not trusting her voice, JJ raised her hand slightly from her lap. The doctor extended his arm to shake her hand.
"I'm Doctor Marshall," he introduced himself. "I treated your husband when he arrived in the ER."
"Jennifer," she replied. "How is he?" Her voice was so uncertain that it was barely recognisable as her own.
"Your husband was in a very serious condition when the paramedics brought him in. He'd lost a lot of blood and was suffering from a collapsed lung. X-rays revealed that he has several broken bones, including a fractured leg, and we suspect that there is some internal bleeding. We stabilised him in the ER and he's now been taken into surgery, " Doctor Marshall explained.
"Will he be OK?" JJ asked, knowing that it was unlikely to be a question the doctor would be able to answer definitively.
"As I'm sure you can understand, there are no guarantees, but we're hopeful," he replied, with a kind smile. "Now, how are you feeling?" He couldn't help but be concerned about the stress his patient's pregnant wife was experiencing.
"I'm fine," she responded, the distant look in her wide and unfocussed eyes preventing anyone from being convinced by her words.
"You've had a shock; I know I'd be happier if you'd let me page someone from OB to take a look at you," he suggested gently.
"That doesn't sound like a bad idea," Emily agreed, touching her hand to her friend's arm to try and encourage a response. "What do you think, JJ?"
JJ shook her head, adamant that she wasn't going to be any further from Will than she had to be. It made no sense when she tried to think about it rationally, but she needed to be in the surgical waiting room, as close to where he was being treated as possible. The baby was moving around in the same way it always did and the light-headedness had passed, leaving her confident enough that she didn't have to be concerned about her own health and could concentrate on Will.
"I really am OK," she insisted. "I'll take it easy, but I just want to wait for news upstairs."
Doctor Marshall didn't look entirely satisfied, and Emily had already opened her mouth to protest, but Hotch prevented either of them from arguing. He'd always shared some kind of understanding with JJ - right back from when she'd told him about her sister, and he'd come to fully understand the person she was and the job she did. Throughout her pregnancy he'd become adept to noticing when she needed to slow down and when she needed to keep going. Right now he could tell that it wasn't going to help for her to be fussed over by excessively sympathetic medical professionals, and that while she was as stubborn as ever, she wouldn't do anything to put her baby at risk.
"If Jennifer starts to fell unwell we'll make sure she sees someone immediately," he told the doctor. "But for now we'd like to go up to the surgical waiting room."
JJ looked round in surprise - she'd expected Hotch to be insistent on her being checked over.
"OK then," Doctor Marshall agreed. "I'll have someone show you upstairs."
As they left the office, JJ caught hold of Hotch's wrist.
"Thank you," she told him quietly.
He nodded in acknowledgement but his expression remained stern.
"Any pain, or any more dizziness, and you tell me straight away," he instructed, making it very clear that he was placing a lot of trust in her.
"Of course," she replied, grateful that once again she could rely on her boss to have her back.
/
/
Unsurprisingly, the surgical waiting room didn't ease JJ's anxiety. Waiting rooms were one of her least favourite places to be; waiting was one of her least favourite tasks. Her mind ran through a list of places she'd rather be: in a long meeting discussing department budgets, at the dentist's office, being the one lying on the operating table...
Her attempt to distract herself with more trivial thoughts ended as she once again imagined what was happening to her injured and anaesthetised husband. He had to be OK. They were having a baby; they were parents. And that required both of them. Henry and the baby had a Mommy and a Daddy - neither of them was going to be the kid that was the subject of whispers and sympathetic stares while the rest of their class made Father's Day cards. She was not going to be a widow before she'd even given birth to their child.
A widow. It was strange, she'd never imagined herself being the one that was left behind. Her fears had always circled around her own death tearing her family apart. It wasn't the thought of a life without Will that caused her to wake up in the night, drenched in sweat but immediately thankful that she was still breathing.
"Stop it," she told herself, glancing up from the floor and meeting Emily's concerned gaze.
"How are you holding up?" her friend asked. They'd been sitting in silence for half an hour and she was feeling increasingly uneasy at JJ's quiet and distant demeanour.
"He can't die," she choked, unable to prevent the dark thoughts which surged to the front of her mind with every calming breath she tried to take.
Emily slid along the row of seats, just in time for JJ to succumb to the tears she'd been holding back and collapse against her shoulder. Hotch's frown deepened as he watched her crumble.
"It's going to be OK," Emily soothed, rubbing her hand up and down JJ's back as she cried, fully aware of the uselessness of her words and the gesture.
Hotch got to his feet, deciding they'd waited long enough since they last tried to contact a doctor for an update on Will's condition. His eyes caught Emily's, as she continued to comfort the frightened woman. He'd do anything to spare JJ the pain she was experiencing, and even more if there was a way to stop it becoming any worse.
/
/
Two more hours passed without any news. Emily and Hotch didn't know whether to be relieved or alarmed that JJ had exhausted herself with her crying. She'd been sleeping in sporadic bursts of ten minutes or so, jerking awake as she realised where she was, before one of her friends calmed her down and encouraged her to close her eyes. It certainly wasn't good, but it was an improvement on the uncontrollable sobbing.
Now it was coming up on four in the morning, and they'd been joined in their silent vigil by what seemed like half of Will's precinct. The men and women tried to sleep, and paced the room, and fetched cups of coffee. The atmosphere was already uncomfortable to say the least, but when a surgeon eventually emerged from behind the doors labelled "staff only", the tension palpably increased.
The woman approached with an unreadable expression, giving nothing away but the fact that she was in the middle of a long shift.
"Mrs LaMontagne?" she asked, with the same professional, yet kind, tone that seemed to accompany that particular question.
Hotch, who had been propping up his colleague while she fell in and out of her restless sleep, placed a hand on her arm and helped her to straighten up. She was too groggy and emotionally drained to feel the effects of the latest wave of adrenaline, but even her tired mind could comprehend the weight of the imminent exchange.
"Is he...?" her question trailed off as she realised she had never been sure where it was heading.
"He's in recovery; he's doing well," came the desperately awaited response.
It would take another hour before Emily managed to fill her in on the rest of the doctor's report. For the time being, she'd heard all she needed, and she could picture a future that didn't fill her with fear. If Will ever put her through anything like that again, she'd kill him.