CHAPTER 21

"The past is our definition. We may strive with good reason to escape it, or to escape what is bad in it, but we will escape it only by adding something better to it." ~Wendell Berry

The night passed slowly, each moment more tense than the next.

Doctors were transient, moving in and out of her room quickly and efficiently. The nurses stayed longer, ensuring that the IV fluids and blood supply were never waning, that the patient was stable and responsive after her waking nightmare.

Guests were allowed to enter the hospital room until they were pulled out by those who advised that the patient should be allowed some peace and quiet after the hell she'd been through in the past week. Of course, her team insisted on never leaving her for fear that she might wake up alone. Her family, too.

Will and Henry sat with her first, the former's hand on hers, the latter curled up by her side. They said nothing, heard nothing, and did nothing. They offered comfort and love by simply being there next to her. And that was enough.

Hotch took the second shift. After pacing across the room for an hour, he gave in to his fear-filled thoughts and sat down beside her bed. His eyes never leaving her face, he crossed his hands over his chest and leaned back in his chair. All he could do was watch and wait. And pray that the nightmares would end and her monster would leave her alone. She would moan occasionally, make sudden movements that threw him off. And then there were moments where the corners of her mouth would raise in a slight smile, and all was well. Is it dreams or nightmares that have you cornered? But she never gave him an answer.

Prentiss watched over her next. Much like she'd watched over Hotch when he'd been in a similar situation years earlier, she watched over her friend. And even though she was completely exhausted and both mentally and physically drained from the past few days, she kept her eyes wide open, afraid that drifting off to sleep meant abandoning JJ with her terrors.

Garcia and Rossi relieved Prentiss a few hours later, a silent exchange of words that assured the brunette agent that they'd take care of JJ, that it was okay for her to rest now. Garcia had composed herself slightly from her earlier meltdown, but she still couldn't keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks as she stared down at her best friend. Rossi had offered to join the tech analyst for fear that she would be unable to handle herself in JJ's lonely and desolate presence. And he was right. So he sat beside the two women, one silent and still in a hospital bed, the other teary-eyed and shaking by the other one's side. And he held both of their hands.

Morgan took the next shift. He walked over to the bed where JJ lay, her mouth and body interspersed with various tubes and wires. Saying nothing, he leaned down to brush his lips gently against her forehead. And he stood there, his face calm, his emotions outwardly collected. Standing by her side. Because that was all he needed. And he knew she felt the same.

Reid lasted the remainder of the long and terrifying night, his actions much like everyone else's when it came to watching over JJ. Only he knew that this was merely the first night out of many. And JJ had ways to go before she'd be anywhere close to healed. One doesn't just go through what she went through and come out alright. She's got hell in front of her and hell behind her. All of which she'll need to confront before she can even begin to heal her mind and body. He reached down and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across the milky flesh, squeezing tight to let her know he was there and waiting for her to recuperate. And that he always would be waiting. They all would. As long as it took, they all would watch and wait…

So sorry—let you go—didn't mean to—can't help—breathe, Jayje—we're here for you—don't let us go—please, JJ—PLEASE!

JJ's eyes flew open.

She couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't speak.

She was in a hospital room; she knew that much. And she knew her team had stayed with her all night. She'd felt them there: Will and Henry's heartfelt silence, Hotch and Morgan's conflicted strength, Garcia's fractured love, Emily's relentless fear, Rossi's stable courage, and Reid's determined hope. Everything she'd needed that night they gave to her willingly and with a sort of purpose that they felt they owed her. What they didn't say spoke volumes. What they didn't say was enough.

JJ found herself suddenly entranced by the ceiling above her, the knots and grooves that twisted and turned in midair, seemingly unstable yet it was this structure that held the building together and kept everything in it from falling apart.

She moved her gaze toward the outer window to her right. Lazy light filtered through the blinds, reaching down and touching the room with a soft, pinkish-yellow glow that brought tears to her eyes. Only—yesterday, was it?—she'd been trapped underground in a black cell where the only light was the ever slowly swinging bulb that she'd force her eyes to see instead of—him. Of course, the moon and sun occasionally peeked through the barred window near the door, but she could never fully see that light. Because looking around made everything all the more real. Looking around made her see him. And with him came chains and knives and hurt and bloodshed. With him came her terror that she could suppress for a time…but no matter what she did or refused to do, he'd always beat her walls back, with steel and stone if need be. He never broke her. Just transformed her defiant cries to pained screams. And forced her team to watch as he tried to break her down. Even at the end, when he'd used her limp body to bargain for his own life, when he'd pressed that cold knife against her throat and held her up as a shield, she'd never given in completely. Not to him. Never to him.

They know that I never let him win.

They know I kept going even when it seemed impossible not to fall.

They know.

JJ told herself again and again that her team knew she'd been strong until the end. They'd seen her and she'd held on even when they'd let her go. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt they believed they'd lost her to him. That they'd never get their old JJ back. That she'd become angry and bitter and introverted to the point of no return. That she'd give up on them and on herself after such a traumatic experience…with him.

The glow faded from the room, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. She refused to believe they'd lost their faith in her. After all that they'd been through together as a team and as a family, she had to hold on to that. When Reid had been taken by Tobias Hankel and they'd rescued him, he'd been…changed. And the drugs weren't fully responsible. He was angry at himself, at the world, at the team. Blaming them for the ordeal. Blaming me. But they'd helped him heal. They'd showed him that he could trust them with his life. That he was still worthy of love after Tobias had forced him to choose someone to die. After he'd betrayed his own team to Dilaudid. He was her example. And she knew that this time, she could trust the team with her innermost thoughts and fears. Because she wasn't that same person who'd abandoned Reid to Tobias, who'd been shaken up by a few murderous dogs. She'd become someone else, a stronger, more confident version of her former self. The walls were still up, held high and stable even through her experience with him. That monster couldn't tear them down. He couldn't break me. But she could let her walls fall. If it meant digging down deep into herself and forcing any remnants of her monster out, she'd let her team into her guarded mind. She'd let them in if it meant getting him out.

Anything to get him out.

She would destroy the worn walls and rebuild. She'd set her foundation upon her family. And she'd build up from that point, leaving Jayne Adams in the pile of rubble that would become her old walls.

Staring back at the ceiling above her, she realized that she and it were now shockingly similar: if the ceiling was to collapse, someone else would come along and rebuild it into something better and something new. The building would fall, but that wouldn't be the end. Likewise, she'd tear herself down, but it wouldn't be her end.

Looking back down, she struggled to move her fingers, her toes, her head—anything. She closed her eyes and tried to move, but to no avail.

"It's the drugs they've got you on."

She opened her eyes, startled at the sudden intrusion into her privacy.

A blurry figure stood before her, at the edge of her bed, staring down at her with gentle eyes. All she could make out was the face.

Hotch?

Her boss stepped to the side, walking over to the lone chair that sat to her left. He sat down in it and took her hand in his. That she could feel. The warmth that spread through her entire body was a good flame that signified belonging and love and protection. It was his hand on hers. And she never wanted him to let go. After a terrifying week in which she'd felt she'd never see her team or her family again, she hadn't been expecting this moment. Where she could feel safe again.

JJ's eyes smiled and shone with fresh tears. The corners of her lip twitched as she thought of what she might say to him for just being there for her.

He understood.

And his face blurred out as she succumbed once more to the medication they had her on. As her eyes rolled shut and she fell back to her dreamland, she heard Hotch's voice one last time:

"Sleep for now, JJ. We'll be here."

I know you will. You all will.

When she woke next, she wouldn't hold back. She knew what she had to do now. Her nightmare had ended, and she needed to move on. Her team would help her cope with him. She wasn't in denial, she was fully aware of her predicament and the amount of time that it would take for her to recover. But she had to let them know that, too. So they could trust her as much as she would have to trust them.

She fell asleep to Hotch's voice, to the comfort he brought her, to the beeping sound to her right, to the light that flitted across her eyelids and transformed the dark underneath them into a reddish glow that sent her off into a peaceful, dreamless state of mind.

To heal.

That was her next job.

No more nightmares.

Her monster was dead and gone, and it was time to heal.

It was time to move on and transform this ending into a new beginning.

"I've always heard that every ending is also a beginning; we just don't know it at the time. I'd like to believe that's true." ~SSA Emily Prentiss