The Art of Butterflies

When Hotch returned nearly an hour and a half later, he was met with the site of three people in the room – Will, JJ, and a nurse. He knew the latter would have to come into the room to check on her at some point, but it didn't change the fact that JJ was ghostly pale and trembling. At least the nurse they'd given her was female, but she still cringed as the elderly woman checked the binding on her ribs. Hotch stood in the doorway, dark eyes finding Will. The New Orleans native was on the edge of the bed, talking to his fiancé softly. He looked up when he became aware of the older man's presence, and his eyes quickly went back to JJ.

"Do you want Hotchner to stay with you for awhile?" Will paused and Hotch couldn't see JJ's answer – the nurse was blocking her from view. "Alright." He finally said, and without taking his eyes off of JJ, began to speak to Hotch. "The nurse said it would be alright if I were to bring Henry in for a few moments, and I need to speak to Dr. Jackie. Would you mind …?"

"Not at all." Hotch said immediately, entering the hospital room when the nurse exited.

"Alright." Will said, moving from her bedside. Hotch could see the way he hesitated before he did so.

"I'll be with her." Hotch assured the former detective, who nodded once before exiting the room.

Hotch moved quickly to her bedside. She was still shaking, her hands clutched in the white sheets. He pulled the plastic chair to her head, very gently untwining her fingers from the sheets. She let him, the mask of her face cracking. She was holding her breath – pretending for Will that she was alright.

"Stop pretending. It's alright." He urged. "You're going to make yourself sick. Breathe. In and out." She was gripping his fingers weakly with her own. "You're alright." She took a few shaky breaths. "That's it. Take it easy. What do you need me to do?"

She shook her head, but her fingers were no longer gripping his as tightly as they were before. "I hate being dazed." JJ responded to his question. "It hurts to breathe. I'm confused." She confessed. "I know what happened but I …" She paused in talking, closing her eyes for a split second. "How bad off am I? The nurses, they said a few things but they're holding back. They don't want to scare me, Hotch."

He didn't want to have to tell her – because he knew as he discussed it, she'd feel it even more, but he couldn't deny her that right. "You're going to be alright." He assured her first, touching her hand. "When you first came in, you had a fever, and you're on antibiotics for the infection."

Her face was pale, but she nodded. After all that had happened – she could handle this. She could handle knowing what extent the injuries were. "My head hurts."

"You were concussed. They said you hit your head pretty good."

She made a noise that could be attributed to a groan.

"I know. I'm sorry. Breathing hurts because of your ribs – several were broken." Even now, her breathing was shallow. It hurt too much for her to take deep breaths, even though doctors and nurses had kept urging her to over the past hour and a half. She closed her eyes momentarily but they flashed open again only moments later, accompanied by a startled gasp that had her hand flying to her ribs.

He moved forward. "JJ?" She was pale and taking startled gasps of air. "Easy. You're safe." She was trembling again, when he thought that her trembling had ceased they were back to square one.

"Do you want to talk?"

She nodded slightly. "I have to." Her eyes were considerably less at ease then they had been minutes ago. "I need to … make it part of the past, Hotch. And the only way I know how to … start to do that … is through talking." She opened her eyes, turning her face towards him. Her next words were murmured. "I've always been good at talking. And I trust you, Hotch."

He squeezed her hand. "You can trust me. I'm sitting right here."

"I closed my eyes just now and …. God, I …" Her voice was shaking along with her hands. "I saw him. He's … he's never going to leave. B-Bennett." She struggled in saying his name. "He's never going to leave."

He knew it would be pointless, saying that Bennett was already gone. He was gone in flesh and blood, no longer able to bother her, but in JJ's mind? He wasn't gone, not just yet. He was very much there; very much able to hurt her in that way, but the unit chief had to try.

"He's gone, JJ. He's going to be locked away and he'll never touch you or anybody else again. I promise you that with everything in me. Over time you'll realize he's gone in your mind, too. He's going to be in the past, just like you said before. We're all going to help you with that."

She was still shaking, but slightly less than she'd been before. "I hate him."

"I do, too."

"I've never truly hated anyone before, Hotch." Her voice was a whisper. "What does that make me?"

"Sane." He promised her, smiling gently.

"He said something to me – back there, he told me … told me that nobody cared. That I was replaced. And god, I … I believed him. Just for a second."

He stroked the back of her hand. "You know Jordan was here just to help us find you." He reminded her, but she was already nodding.

"Yes. I do. But it was that second, Hotch – he made me believe it. How could I let him?"

"You were afraid." He reminded her. "And you'll never be replaced, JJ. You don't need to worry about that."

She nodded again, her eyes on the ceiling. Moments passed before she spoke again. It was as if her mouth move without her permission. "He tried to rape me. He couldn't." Her voice cracked. "But he t-tried. Several t-times. And every time I see … a stranger … I see …" She wouldn't finish the sentence. She couldn't. She began to sob, choking on them when she realized the pain it caused in her ribs. The ultimate irony – finally allowed to sob and she couldn't do so without it causing her pain.

He continued to squeeze her hand, letting her know silently that he wasn't moving as she struggled somewhere between tears and sobs.

When she'd quieted some – when her breathing was somewhere near the way it'd been before – he spoke again, his voice quiet. "It wasn't right, JJ, what he did to you. Nobody on earth should have to face what you did. It isn't fair. But you don't have to try so hard to be strong right now. We understand, JJ. Nobody will think less of you for tears."

She blinked several times, biting her lower lip. Her eyes were on the ceiling and her head was shaking back and forth ever so slightly. "They're going to treat me as the victim, Hotch."

"You're not a victim." He responded immediately. "Not in any of our eyes. I promise you that. You're not the victim. You're too strong for that."

She let her eyes slide closed for a moment. She was tired. Her eyelids felt scratchy and her limbs felt heavy but she couldn't sleep. Because, every time she closed her eyes she saw his face. And she couldn't … she simply couldn't. "Will's going to be gone for awhile," She began. "And that's alright, it is. But …" She swallowed.

"What?" Hotch asked softly.

"Can you have Spence come here for awhile? I think … I think I really need to talk to him."

Author's Note:

You're all welcome to yell at me for not putting that link on my page just yet. But it's up now. And, to the person who said they'd nominate this story – unfortunately, it won't be eligible. Stories needed to be complete as of the 31st of December. I believe there might be a category for works-in-progress, though I'm not sure. Either way, I urge you to go down and check them out – it's a great way to find new author's and nominate your favorite stories. I know I'll be doing so when the nominating starts.

Please review? It helps me know that there are people still reading and liking – or not liking – what I'm writing. Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter! All of you make me the happiest author ever. Mhm.