Author's Note: This chapter pretty much speaks for itself and it is different than I originally intended. Thank you to my reviewers.
Pain. Anguish. Turmoil. Guilt. Horror.
He could see it in their eyes. Each and every one of them.
And damn him if he didn't feel the same way.
"How the hell did we miss this?" Derek exploded, shatttering the shocked silence that had overtaken the entire waiting room as they awaited any news on JJ's condition.
He wanted to shut down. He wanted to allow the anger to consume him like it only had once before. He was literally seconds away from having his carefully controlled and practiced stoicism snapping entirely.
But looking around at the nearly empty waiting room, Hotch catalogued each of the people under his stewardship and felt their burdens heaped upon his already tired shoulders. Henry clung tightly to the fabric around Hotch's large elbow as if needing the comfortable reassurance that things would be different, while the seven year old seemed otherwise engrossed in his nintendo. Reid sat in the corner, unconsciously picking at the cuticles of his fingernails as he stared off distantly. Emily was desperately trying (and failing miserably) to keep herself from pacing as she waited apprehensively. Dave's anger brewed beneath the surface, content to at least wait for news about their fallen colleague before unleashing his fury. Garcia looked absolutely devoid of emotion, crippled as she sat in the chair nearest the door. Finally Derek who couldn't seem to sit in the same place for more than five minutes, continued to fidget nervously as they waited for any news about JJ.
Because even if she was gone from the BAU, she was supposed to be family.
She was family.
And they had failed her.
"I haven't talked to her in thirteen weeks." Emily blurted out, as if the information was somehow relevant. "Maybe if I had..."
"Why didn't she tell us?" Derek moaned.
"Why did she have to tell us?" Reid countered softly, his words hanging in the air as the question none of them could adequately resolve. "Why didn't we notice?"
The soft question silently accused each of them as every adult in the room contemplated how they were individually responsible.
"Family of Jennifer Jareau?" A man in dark green scrubs stepped out from behind the waiting room doors.
"That's us." Hotch asserted quickly. The man didn't bother to raise an eyebrow, plunging forward quickly.
"Ms. Jareau is stable right now, we've got her hooked up to some antibiotics and fluids. She had some nasty - - " The doctor rambled on but Hotch couldn't make himself listen if he wanted to. There was only one thing that mattered.
JJ was alive.
"She's okay?" Emily asked, uncertain if she really could hope that the best possible outcome had indeed happened, needing the final confirmation that JJ would be alright.
"She can have visitors, but please limit it to one or two at a time." The doctor smiled as he saw the relief in their eyes. "But she's going to be alright."
"Thank you." Dave was the first to be able to find his voice, the others (and Dave too though he would never admit it) overcome by relief that their failure to notice JJ's torment hadn't been a fatal mistake.
The doctor took his leave, glad to at least be able to give good news. Too many women came through these doors with less desirable outcomes.
"Henry. Let's go." Garcia nearly bolted out of her chair, not bothering to check and discuss with the others who would go in first.
She had to see JJ with her own eyes.
She had to know she was okay.
A thought stopped her in her tracks, "Sir?" She turned, waiting for Hotch to acknowledge her.
Because as much as she wanted to sit by JJ's bedside and promise her that this was all over, she couldn't be certain until something else was taken care of.
And she knew just the person to do it.
"It's fine Penelope." Hotch dismissed blankly, automatically assuming she was waiting for permission to join JJ's bedside. "Stay with her, we'll be out here."
Garcia nodded, frowning as she looked at the paper that contained her neat scrawl. She knew what giving this slip of paper over to Hotch meant.
And truthfully, she didn't really care.
She could worry later about right or wrong. "Here." She thrust the neon green sticky note into his hands and pulled Henry along with her to find JJ's room.
Hotch glanced down at the paper, not certain exactly what it was supposed to mean. Joe's. 3451 N 2150 W.
"Agent Hotchner?" A voice disrupted the quiet, and Hotch's head turned up sharply to see Chief Watson shifted uncomfortably on his heels, obviously uncomfortable as all eyes snap toward him. "Can I have a word?"
"Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of them." Hotch ground out, not bothering to make this cop's job any easier.
The Chief sighed reluctantly, well aware that each person in this room was on edge. He too felt a swift pang in his stomach at the realization that he could have done more - - should have done more - - to save the broken women he watched paramedics load into an ambulence.
He alone was to blame for the conduct of his officers.
Most of the time, he was proud to be a man in blue. A man who had spent his life protecting citizens and defending his brothers behind the shield.
Today however, he was ashamed.
"I have officers searching for La Montagne." The lack of any sort of title stuck out to him as he subconsciously tried to distance La Montagne from being one of his former officers. Because the truth hurt far more than the seasoned police chief wanted to admit. "So far it appears his cell phone has been turned off, but I have officers scouring the city." He explained, looking at each one of the federal agents despite the anger and loathing he felt eminating from them. "We will find him."
"And then what?" Derek spat, quickly losing any semblence of control. "Then he goes through the system? A day in jail? A protective order? He almost killed her!"
Chief Watson felt a lump in his throat, he too already aware of what outcome this would likely have. "I'm doing the best I can." He admitted genuinely.
"Well it's not enough." Emily spoke up coldly, her voice devoid of any emotion making the words all the more biting.
"As soon as I have information, I'll let you know." The Chief nodded grimly extracting himself as quickly as possible from the federal agents who clearly despised him. "We will find LaMontagne." He promised, leaving the agents alone once again.
Silence fell over the others as they contemplated everything that had happened in the last few minutes.
JJ was alive.
Will was missing.
"Damn it! He's going to get away with this!" Morgan exclaimed in frustration.
"I know where to find him." Hotch ground out as he glanced down at the paper Garcia had put in his hand, instantly losing all sense of reason as he realized what the paper meant. All he could see was red. Right now he wanted blood, and only one person's blood would suffice.
Will La Montagne's blood.
"We're coming with you." He heard Rossi say distantly.
It didn't matter.
Because right now, the only thing that was going to save Will La Montagne from Hotch's wrath was sitting in a hospital bed.
They rode in silence, anger stewing below the surface. Every one of them knew what this meant, caution taking a back seat as a pack mentality seemed to override any semblence of restraint.
And none of them particularly cared.
"Meet us in the ally." Hotch ground out, "I'll get him out of the bar."
They nodded, Hotch following them around the corner in order to come in the back entrance.
It wouldn't due to be seen right now.
Because someone might stop them.
In the end, they didn't even need to worry about how to get him out of the seedy bar. Just as they arrived at the back entrance, Will stumbled out the exit, forcibly pushed by some woman in the bar. "Get the hell away from me." The woman shouted, abandoning Will to a pack of wolves she didn't know was out there.
Really, Rossi smirked as Emily thrust La Montagne against the wall of the alley behind the bar, the profiler brought back from the dead was absolutely terrifying.
"How does it feel?" She seethed as she held him up against the wall, her forearm pressed tightly against his throat. "Bastard."
Will blinked suddenly choking as his airway was blocked.
"Prentiss." Hotch growled, calling her off.
For now.
It wouldn't be fair to finish him off early.
He deserved to suffer
Will coughed. "What the hell- -" He gasped painfully, "bitch."
Derek nearly picked the smaller man up off his feet before throwing him across the alleyway. "Somebody should have taught you how to treat the ladies." He seethed.
Reid, being the closest to the fallen boxes where Will now lay haphazardly, kicked his former friend with everything inside of him. "I trusted you." He spat as the drunk man picked himself up off the ground, swooning slightly as he tried to stumble away.
Dave stuck out his foot, easily tripping Will and sending him back to the ground.
Where he belonged.
Hotch picked up the drunken slop from his collar, thrusting him forcefully against the brick wall where Prentiss had him immobilized only moments before. "Tell me. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right here."
Emily flanked Hotch's right side, clearly waiting for some answer justifying Will's measly life.
"You wouldn't dare." Will slurred, his breathe reaking with alcohol.
"I wouldn't?" Hotch asked, his voice cold and inhuman.
"I don't know if you remember, you miserable piece of scum," Emily spat, "But I was dead. I have no problem ending your sorry excuse right here."
"He's killed a man with his bare hands." Derek stepped up, gesturing toward Hotch as he stepped up on Hotch's left while Will's feet dangled precariously.
"Tell me why I shouldn't end you." Hotch snarled, shoving Will more forcefully against the wall.
"She wouldn't want you to- -"
"You know what she wouldn't want" Hotch slammed him against the brick wall once more, Will's head bouncing like a child's bouncy ball off the hard surfcace, "She wouldn't want to be lying in a hospital room because you almost killed her." Hotch slammed him again.
"Hotch- -" Rossi stepped up, loving the pain that this jackass was enduring, but knowing JJ wouldn't want his blood on their hands. "Hotch stop. He's right, JJ wouldn't want this."
The name seemed to snap Hotch out of the madening rage that had consumed him. Reluctantly, Hotch released his grip and Will fell haphazardly to the ground.
Emily, entirely dissatisfied with leaving this pathetic excuse for a human being still breathing, kicked the downed man swiftly in the groin before he could stand.
Will cried out in pain, writhing on the ground as he tried to recover.
"I'll tell you what's going to happen." Rossi squatted down, unbothered as Will continued to groan in pain. "You are going to get on this plane," He tossed a plane ticket out from his pocket, "and you are never going to set foot in this country again. Do you understand?"
Will continued to writhe in pain, unable to speak due to the force with which he had been kicked.
"Prentiss?" Rossi looked up, and at Emily's nearly giddy grin she was only able to take a step forward before Will cried out.
"Okay!" He cried, tears in his eyes as he forced himself to respond. "Okay."
Hotch's face contorted with anger as he looked down at the broken man in front of them. "If I ever even hear of you again, I'll kill you myself."
And that was a threat he was entirely willing to keep.
Will nodded, terrified - - for good reason- - by the gang of FBI Agents that still surrounded him.
"Your plane leaves in an hour." Dave stood and without a second glance walked back toward the parked SUV.
The others followed, leaving the still drunken and injured William La Montagne on the ground.
Never to be heard of again.