A/N: I'm back with a new chapter! Yay! I hope you enjoy this one and the next one should be along in a week.
Xoxo
A lot happened in such a short amount of time. The unsub entered the house and Jessa took a deep breath before getting the okay to return. Slowly she drove the car back to the house where they had set up the sting. She pulled the sensible hybrid into the driveway of the single storey red brick house and paused to steel herself before climbing from the car and grabbing the purse like a lifeline. The purse contained her gun because Hotch and Gideon gave her strict instructions not to have it on her body, but she felt bare and vulnerable. Jessa wouldn't let her hands shake as she inserted the key into the lock and twisted it. She entered the house and walked into the kitchen where she set down her bag and took a deep breath as she pressed the flashing button on the answering machine and tried to drown out the creepy voice on the machine warning her about what she knew was going to happen.
It didn't take long. Her hand rested on the purse as one arm wrapped around her waist while another covered her mouth. Jessa brought one elbow straight down into his stomach with every ounce of strength she could muster from her non-dominant arm, while the other grasped her gun securely. She slammed her foot down on his and hit him again with her elbow before he relinquished his grip. Jessa spun around so she was facing him as the room lit up and the other agents entered. Jessa's gun was trained on him, unwavering, as light left his eyes when he realised what was happening.
"On your knees." Jessa spat at him, "Hands on your head."
Their unsub obliged and Hotch stepped forward and cuffed him.
She watched as Lee was escorted from the house, frozen in place.
"Are you okay?" Morgan was in front of her, concern etched in his features.
"Why wouldn't I be?" She asked, not unkindly.
"I know this couldn't have been easy for you."
"It wouldn't have been easy for anyone." She dismissed him and walked out of the house.
Jessa didn't speak again until they were on the plane home. This time it was JJ who was concerned.
"You've been weirdly quiet." She told her friend.
"Nothing to say, is all." Jessa replied with a smile.
"You did good today." JJ told her, "He's in jail because of you."
"Thanks."
The pair lapsed into silence for the remainder of the trip.
"This had to have brought things back for you." Morgan said, jogging to catch up with her as they left the FBI building.
"Things?"
"Yeah. I mean, you were attacked—almost raped. Doing what you did tonight couldn't have been easy."
Jessa stopped walking. She hadn't forgotten that she'd told him, that was a part of she had only ever shared with one person, but she hadn't realised he remembered. "It was a long time ago, Morgan. I'm over it."
"You didn't seem over it."
Jessa sighed, she had frozen at one point while they were wiring her for the mission and Morgan had been adamant that she wasn't ready for it—but Gideon had insisted that they needed her. They'd even dyed her hair a light shade of brown so she would better fit his victim type. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."
He looked like he didn't believe her, but he dropped it anyway.
"I forgot my gloves. I'll see you tomorrow." She left him standing there as she jogged back to the elevator.
Her gloves were sitting atop her desk and she grabbed them and walked back through the deserted bullpen.
"Are you still here?" Hotch asked.
Jessa had all but fallen asleep while she stood waiting for the lift, and was quite startled when her boss spoke from behind her.
"You startled me." She told him, "and I could ask you the same thing."
"I'm the boss. What's your excuse?"
"Forgot my gloves." She yawned, stepping into the lift as the doors slid open. She hit the parking button and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes.
"You did well tonight." Hotch spoke after a few moments silence.
"Thanks." She answered without opening her eyes. The doors chimed open and she pushed herself off the wall and stepped into the parking garage.
"Jessa?"
"Hm?" She turned around to face him.
"I'll drive you home. You're in no state to drive."
"I'm fine." She shrugged off his concern.
"You're asleep on your feet, come on."
She shook her head. As tempted as she was to accept his offer, she didn't want him to know that she still couldn't bear to enter her unit. It wasn't her unit anymore. Her brothers had come to town a few weeks back and packed it up for her, but she had yet to find enough time to find a new place so she was still living in the motel. It wasn't a pleasant place to stay, but it was a place and she wasn't there much anyway.
"I'm fine, Hotch. But thank you anyway."
Hotch knew he shouldn't let her walk away, but he did. He watched her get on her Hawk and ride off.
Jessa wasn't far from the motel when it happened. When she realised it was happening it was too late. All she saw was the blinding light of the headlights as the car careered into her.
Hotch dialled Jessa's number again and again. He was sitting at his desk knowing that she should be here for the day, but she wasn't.
Worry began to set in as he noticed one of the junior agents escorting two uniforms toward his door. He beckoned them in after the agent knocked.
He quickly left after they were let in.
"Agent Hotchner?" One of them asked. Her was a bulky man, possibly in his late thirties, and wore a sour expression that Hotch couldn't help but assume was permanent.
"Yes?" The other officer—a weedy looking twenty-something—looked down at the floor. His pristine uniform screamed rookie. "What's going on?"
"I'm Officer Kane, this here is Officer Tanner." The bigger officer introduced them. "We were called to the scene of an accident in the early hours of this morning."
Hotch's heart stopped when he said the words.
"It seems a vehicle hit a motorcyclist. The victim was an FBI Special Agent. We found her credentials: Jessamine Winchester. You are listed as her emergency contact."
Hotch stared at them for the longest time, words failing him.
Officer Kane seemed to read his face because he added, "She was in a bad way when paramedics arrived and was rushed to the hospital."
It took him less than a second to move. He grabbed his jacket and keys and pushed past them out of his office.
"Agent Hotchner," The officers fell into step behind him as he marched toward the elevator, "We're here to escort you to the hospital." Kane stepped in front of him as he pounded the elevator button.
"I don't need it." He growled.
"Agent Hotchner, you aren't in a state to drive." Tanner spoke for the first time, "We're going to drive you."
Grudgingly, he obliged and the two officers drove him to the hospital.
"I'm looking for a Jessamine Winchester." He said to the young girl at the front counter. "She was brought in last night."
The girl typed something into the computer before directing him to a room in the ICU. He all but ran to where he was directed, panic coursing through him. When he reached the room number that the girl had told him, it was like there was an invisible wall stopping him in his tracks.
The strong woman he knew was nowhere to be seen, instead a small, frail woman lay in her place. Her vibrant green eyes were closed and most of her body was bandaged, stitched or encased in plaster. Blood still streaked her now-brown hair and the beeping machines let him know that her body couldn't perform its most basic functions.
"Are you Aaron Hotchner?" A short woman appeared at his side. She was dressed in bloody scrubs and wore a white lab coat informing him that her name was Dr Abraham.
Hotch just nodded, not taking his eyes from the bed.
"I'm Dr Abraham, I've been caring for Miss Winchester." She looked up at him.
"What happened to her?" He whispered.
"She was involved in an accident. We've had her in surgery for the last few hours, but we were unable to repair all the damage. Right now, we're waiting to see if she can survive the next couple of hours. If she does, we may be able to take her back and see if we can repair the rest of her injuries but I have to be honest with you, it isn't looking good."
Hotch barely took in the words, but he heard enough. Jessa probably wouldn't survive the day.
"Does she have any family I could call?" Dr Abraham asked him.
"Brothers." Hotch forced his voice to work, "I'll call them."
"Okay." She took a step back to leave him alone, although he remained in the doorway.
After a few minutes he stepped into the room, hesitantly as though any movement could break her. He sank down into the seat by her bed and put his head in his hands to fight off the threatening tears. Eventually, when he had composed himself enough, he grabbed the small bag of her things that rested on a nearby shelf. Fishing out her phone, he hit speed dial one.
It rang a few times before it connected. "Hey, J." Dean greeted. "I was actually going to call you. Sammy and I just finished up a case in North Carolina and we don't have another lined up so we figured we would swing by and hang out for a few days. We were just going to grab a couple hours' sleep. Should be there by tonight."
Hotch paused before he spoke, completely unsure of what to say. "Dean Winchester?"
"Who's this? Why do you have my sister's phone?" The other man demanded.
"My name is Aaron Hotchner—"
"Right, you're her boss." He stated, recognising the name. "Why do you have Jessa's phone?"
He took a deep breath, "You need to come here straight away. She was involved in an accident last night and it's not good." From the other end of the line, he heard the screech of tyres followed by a 'Dean, what the hell?'.
"Define 'not good'." He demanded.
"They don't expect her to recover."
"We're on our way." He snapped before the call disconnected.
"Dean, what the hell?" Sam demanded as Dean pulled a dangerous U-turn and started driving in the opposite direction of their motel.
"Define 'not good'?" Dean asked into the phone, his face contorting into an expression of panic and worry. He remained quiet long after he received his answer before he finally said, "We're on our way."
"Dean?" Panic began surging through Sam as he waited for his brother to explain what was happening. He knew it couldn't have been good, "Is Jessa okay?"
Tears had filled the older man's green eyes as he shook his head.
"What?"
"She's dying, Sammy." He choked out, "She crashed her motorbike."
Sam found himself completely unable to speak, and the usually four-and-a-half-hour drive became a silent three hours.
When the two brothers got to Jessa's room, a man that Dean assumed was the boss sat by her bedside—his hand wrapped around her limp one. He was muttering something as he gently stroked his thumb across her knuckles.
Sam cleared his throat in the doorway, alerting the man to their presence. He shot up from his spot and walked towards them.
"I'm glad you got here." He said, shaking Sam's hand.
"What, umm." Sam started, but lost his thoughts, "What's wrong with her?"
"At the moment, everything." He answered, "She's not breathing on her own, and the doctor said that her body couldn't handle any more surgery."
He rushed to her side and collapsed in the chair that Hotch occupied moments ago. Dean, however, remained rooted to the spot. He stared at his twin—lying helpless—before fleeing the room.
"Dean!" Sam called after him and made a move to follow.
"Stay with her." Hotch told him softly, "I'll go."
Hotch found Dean outside the hospital. He was pacing and running his hands through his hair. Hotch watched him until the other man noticed him.
"What the hell happened to her?" Dean asked, fury in his eyes.
"I spoke to the officers that were at the scene." Hotch explained. "From what they can tell, Jessa crossed the centreline and into the path of a car."
"They think she's going to die?"
He nodded.
Dean just shook his head, tears threatening to spill over. "No. No, no, no, no." He ran his hand through his hair, then kicked a nearby rubbish bin. "She can't die. She can't! She's my sister, I can't just let her die. I can't."
"I know that this must be hard for you, but she is your sister." Hotch stepped into the other man's personal space in an almost threatening way. "She needs you right now."
In an instant, Dean had Hotch by the collar and pressed him against the wall, "You don't know anything." He sneered. He looked like he was about to throw a punch, but after a moment he relinquished his grip. "I can't be here."
He turned away and Hotch grabbed his shoulder, ducking the fist that came flying toward his face. Within a moment he had Jessa's brother by the collar in a similar fashion to how the man had him moments before.
"You're right. I don't know anything about what you're feeling right now, but I do know that your sister should be surrounded by people that love her right now." He seethed, "And if you walk away now you're showing her that you are nothing more than a coward."
Hotch let him go, then walked back into the hospital—not caring whether or not Dean followed. He got to Jessa's room where he paused, feeling like he shouldn't enter now that her brother was in there. He was saved, however, when his phone rang.
"Hotchner." He answered.
"Hotch, its Gideon. You haven't been in your office for hours, is everything alright?"
"Is there a case?" He asked in an attempt to avoid the question.
"No, not yet. I'm worried." Gideon informed him, "Winchester isn't here and she isn't answering her phone, have you spoken to her?"
"I, uh, she's—" He stammered, "Jason, I'm at the hospital."
"Hospital? Are you alright?"
"Jessa—she was in an accident last night."
"Is she okay? Are you okay?"
"The doctors don't know anything yet." He lied.
"Hotch, are you alright?"
"I don't want you to worry the team until I know more." He said, hiding his emotions, "I'll call you with updates." He hung up and squeezed his hands into fists to control the shaking of his extremities. It was only moments after that that the pacing began.
Every time he turned on his heel, and caught a glimpse into Jessa's room, a new wave of grief washed over him. After a little while he refused to look in.
"Have you been in, Agent Hotchner?" Doctor Abraham appeared in front of him, brushing a blonde strand of hair from her face.
"I have. Her brother is in there now."
"How are you holding up?" She asked, genuine concern in her eyes.
"How's she looking?"
"She's still alive, which is more than we could have hoped." She offered him a reassuring smile, "I'm about to go in and check on her, and if her condition's improved we may be able to take her into surgery."
"Good."
Dr Abraham smiled again, and walked into the room. He could see her introducing herself to Sam, and felt a little guilty that Dean wasn't with his twin—From everything Jessa had told him, they were close.
Hotch sat himself down in a chair against the wall and watched the room, knowing how powerless he'd feel if he entered. After a while, someone came and sat next to him.
"You know, you're right." Dean told him, staring straight ahead into Jessa's room. "She was always the strong one."
"She's certainly strong." Hotch agreed.
"I just can't stand to see her like that." He shook his head, "She looks so helpless and weak."
"Helpless, yes, but never weak." Hotch turned his head to look at the other man, "She shouldn't be alive, her doctor didn't expect her to survive this long, but she has. She's still fighting, Dean."
Dean hesitated, then stood and walked into his sister's room.
