Author's Note: Special thanks to the reviewers of last chapter: hxchick; zzz-zzz84; crazyobsession101; SparkleInTheSun; stefi; and Black Angel of the Underworld. Reviews genuinely make my day, so thanks for that.
Also, special thanks to brynnifer and littlegreenbottle for beta'ing this all. Thanks guys!
I didn't want to make you all wait for the next chapter. If you thought that the last chapter was heavy, just you wait. And, as a reviewer pointed out, it is amazing that JJ is as functional as she is right now-but I believe that is part of strength. True strength isn't allowing something to leave you completely unchanged, it's fighting when every hope in the future has been decimated. Anyway, I'll step off my soapbox, but just be warned, some of the upcoming chapters are rather heavy. And, as another reviewer pointed out her hope, JJ does try to confide in Emily here...she just does it the best way she can right now.
Emily sighed wearily. She had been on her phone filling Hotch in on JJ's appointments for the day, and seeing JJ crashing through her bedroom door made her end the call without as much as a word goodbye. "JJ? Is everything okay?"
JJ ran to the side of Emily's bed, collapsing in her arms. "Mi manta. He shot him-" JJ rambled as sobs wracked her body, unable to stop the words from escaping from her lips her memories bleeding together as she avoided the bed and slid to the floor. "Estaba tan fría. I didn't mean to make him do it. No podía permitir que la niña a ser como yo."
Emily registered three things almost simultaneously. First, JJ was absolutely terrified. Second, she had absolutely no idea what to do.
Wrapping a strong arm around JJ's shoulders, Emily quickly slid off the bed and knelt near the terrified blonde to check her for injuries. "JJ, honey what's wrong, are you hurt?"
A loud clap of thunder roared above them and JJ jumped, pulling Emily close to her for comfort.
"The storm?" Emily asked with understanding dawning as JJ clung to Emily like her life depended on it as a low rumble of thunder shook through the condo. "It's okay JJ." Emily comforted softly, secretly praying that JJ would suddenly calm down and she wouldn't need to pull out the medication that Emily felt she had used far too often for JJ's late night episodes.
She was so tired, and it was only ten-thirty.
If she didn't help JJ get to sleep soon, it would be another night full of comforting the other woman's nightmares.
As much as she wanted to help her friend, she didn't know how much more she could take.
Because JJ's nightmares didn't take a day off, and the team had been away on a case for the last week.
So she'd been left to care for JJ completely on her own.
Twenty-four hours a day for the last seven days.
She wasn't sure how much longer she could go without more than two hours of sleep a night.
"JJ, I'm here, it's okay." She sighed and insisted again, checking JJ quickly to ensure she wasn't hurt or feverish. Pulling her large down comforter off the bed, she wrapped it around JJ securely. "It's going to be ok JJ." She promised, rubbing JJ's back in a circular pattern. "I'm going to get your pills, but I'll be right back."
Sliding over to the gun safe just a few feet away, she quickly got to the medicine and felt her heart drop as she eyed the last two pills remaining in the bottle as if they were mocking her.
It was another thing she'd have to find time to do tomorrow—take JJ to get some more pills for her panic attacks.
One more thing to add to the list already packed with doctor's appointments, physical therapy exercises, and finding time to do at least three consults while JJ was either in an appointment, or trying in vain to take a nap.
She shuddered at the thought of taking JJ into a store full of people to get the prescription filled.
Because the only thing more terrifying than forcing JJ into public was the thought of JJ having a panic attack without anything to help her.
As she turned around, the severity of the situation descended on her like a heavy weight from which there was no escape. Crouching down next to her friend, she didn't bother to hide her tears of exhaustion.
Holding the pills out to the blonde, she tried to smile through her tears. "This will make it better, it will make the storm go away." She promised as she placed the pills gently into JJ's hand. She felt a pang of awareness that she was no better than JJ's captors in the last three years who had drugged the blonde into submission. She knew there was a more therapeutic way to do this, a way that let JJ find herself—but she had no idea what it was.
JJ looked at the pills in her trembling hand and looked to Emily through her own tears for confirmation. Reluctantly, she slowly put the pills in her mouth. Another clap of thunder sounded overhead and JJ hugged Emily quickly for comfort, tears running down her face in pure terror.
"It'll be okay, I'm here." Emily promised, her own tears streaming down her face as she tried to comfort the distraught woman. There had to be a better way to reassure JJ—and Emily was certain that if the roles were reversed, JJ would have some marvelous comforting words—but she was so exhausted. "I'm here." She settled for lamely as she held JJ tightly. "I'm here."
.oOo.
Hotch pounded impatiently at Emily's door twenty minutes later. They had just taxied through the runway when he called Emily to check up on JJ. The last thing he heard was a door crashing open before Emily ended the call and refused to answer. Realizing that he was probably overreacting, but panicked nonetheless, he drove with sirens blaring all the way from the airport to Emily's condo.
Emily opened the door, and Hotch quickly took notice of her red puffy eyes. Pushing away his concern, he peeked into her condo, "What happened? How is she? Is she okay?"
"She's fine." Emily said softly, brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ears. "The thunder—something about rain and she—" Emily sighed and gestured to the blonde that Hotch could see huddled on the couch, "She doesn't do well with the rain."
Emily followed Hotch as he entered her home but stopped just inside the kitchen. Truthfully, he knew it was wiser to let JJ stay with Emily—a trained female agent who was both capable of protecting the blonde and identifying with her—but leaving JJ in the hands of someone else where he couldn't watch over her did nothing to satisfy his worry.
"JJ, Hotch is here." Emily announced unable to mask the exhaustion in her voice, pinching the bridge of her nose to get her to concentrate. "Maybe you can go back to bed?" She offered hopefully.
JJ glanced over at Hotch and shook her head before pulling her legs tightly to her chest and biting her thumbnail nervously as she turned her focus back to the Soap Opera on TV.
"She's almost asleep." Emily explained as she sat down at her kitchen counter and motioned for Hotch to do the same. Hotch watched JJ carefully and sure enough her head bobbed tiredly as she fought sleep. "In another ten minutes, she'll be out completely." Emily explained softly, gesturing for him to take the seat beside her. She gulped down the mild decaf coffee and shirked Hotch's questioning look. "It's decaf."
Hotch, focused on the woman next to him, felt a pang of concern at the dark circles under her red puffy eyes. "Emily, are you okay?" He momentarily regretted asking the question, long ago accepting that he and Emily had lost even the pretext of friendship. He forced that regret aside—Emily was a trusted colleague, and without her JJ would be in far worse condition.
"What do you care?" Emily snapped quickly, easily remembering all of the snide comments Hotch had made in the last three years. "JJ's fine, that's all that matters."
"Emily, you look dead on your feet." Hotch observed, chiding himself inwardly for his lack of tact. "You know you can depend on us—all of us—if this gets too much to handle, you can call any of us."
"When exactly am I supposed to do that?" Emily retorted quickly. "I call someone to come help and then what?" She asked, teetering on the edge of losing control of her emotions. "I have to run back here?"
"What happened with Garcia could have happened to anyone." Hotch defended quietly, effectively taking the sails out of Emily's next point.
Emily sighed, the exhaustion clearly written across her face. "I know. And I don't blame Garcia, I'm just…" She searched for a word to explain what she meant, "tired." She snorted back an inappropriate chuckle as she thought of Garcia's frantic call nearly a week ago.
"What's wrong?" Emily answered her phone without so much as 'hello'. Penelope had almost pushed her out of her condo with a gift certificate for a pedicure, insisting Emily needed some well-deserved time alone. Looking down at the Vietnamese woman currently clipping her toenails, she whispered, "Can you please hurry?"
"I don't—Emily, I don't know what happened! I don't know where it could be!" Penelope's frantic whispers sounded in Emily's ear. "I—I turned my back for a second."
"Where's JJ? Is everything alright with JJ?" Emily asked, panicked. If the Asian woman didn't have a firm grasp on her feet, she'd already be dashing to her car right now.
"She's on the couch—Emily, it's gone."
Feeling a wave of relief wash over her that JJ wasn't currently hurt, Emily relaxed slightly. "What's gone, P?"
"I—you told me she liked carrots, so I was going to make a salad." Garcia rambled slightly, and Emily nodded remembering the vegetables, bowl, and knife Penelope had brought. "Em, I swear, I turned my back for a second and it was gone."
Emily was struck with a pang of dread as she realized what Garcia was frantically searching for, "A knife? You let her have a knife?" She was practically yelling now. Shaking her head as the pedicurist picked up the toenail polish Emily selected, she threw a twenty dollar bill at the woman before stumbling to put her shoes on and sprinting out of the store.
"Emily, I'm so sorry." Garcia was on the verge of tears and Emily couldn't help but feel slightly chagrined at having yelled at the obviously distraught woman. "Derek called, and I turned so I wouldn't bother JJ—and when I turned back, Em it was gone!"
Forcing herself to breathe deeply, Emily tried to gather her thoughts. "Have you asked her for it?" She asked.
"I didn't want to accuse her of anything. I mean, I didn't want to make it worse. Em—I swear, I didn't mean to—"
"Penelope, stop." Emily ordered firmly, "it could happen to anyone. I'm on my way back now. I need you to get the knife from her. Tell her that you need it, and you think she might have it."
She could hear Garcia scuffle over to where she assumed JJ was. "Jayje, honey, did you see that big knife I left on the counter? I really need it back."
"That's good Garcia," Emily encouraged though she wasn't sure if Penelope was listening or not. A long moment of silence followed, and Emily could easily picture JJ eying Garcia cautiously before reaching behind the couch cushion where JJ tended to keep a stash of items she hoarded.
"Oh, JJ—" Garcia breathed a sigh of relief, leading Emily to assume that JJ handed over the knife. "Don't—" Garcia tried to force anger into her trembling voice, "You can't take this from me, okay Peaches?"
Biting her lip as the doctor's warnings to not treat JJ like a child resounded in her ears, Emily forced herself not to comment.
"Em? I have the knife—I'm so sorry—I-" Garcia was rambling, and Emily didn't have to be a world class profiler to hear the tears in her voice.
"Pen, it's okay. I'll be home in a few minutes."
Emily sipped the coffee and blushed, suddenly realizing that it had been minutes since she'd last spoken. She could feel Hotch's eyes cataloguing her, and she shrugged lightly. "It's been a long few weeks, but it's getting better."
Hotch nodded softly. "Listen, Prentiss. I know that you and I haven't always been on the best of terms over the last three years."
Emily scoffed softly, "that's an understatement."
"I just hope that we can get past what we've become. I respect you as an agent. I apologize if—" He hesitated as he tried to find the right words, "if anything I've said or done has made you think otherwise."
Tears sprung to Emily's eyes at his apology. Trying desperately to control her emotions, she tried to wave him off. "It's fine, Hotch."
"No." He insisted, for the first time really seeing the toll this entire situation was taking on Emily. "It's not fine. I just wanted to say thank you for taking JJ and—"
At the mention of the other woman's name, Emily snapped her head quickly to check on the blonde on the couch. "She's asleep." Emily smiled gratefully, almost gleeful at the idea of at least a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
"Prentiss," Hotch smirked at Emily's infectious excitement. "Why don't I sleep here on the couch? JJ should be out for the rest of the night, let me help."
"You don't have to do that—" Emily sighed, "Really—"
"So I'll carry her upstairs." Hotch interrupted. "You need sleep." He insisted.
Too tired to argue, Emily relented. "Thanks." She smiled. "Just take her up to my room, she'll end up there anyway."
"She's not a child Emily" Hotch chided gently.
"She needs me." Emily retorted. "And if she wakes up in the middle of the night in her room and doesn't remember getting there, and I'm not there to help her—"
"She needs to learn to feel safe in her own room eventually." Hotch interrupted in a harsh whisper, shook his head emphatically, "and you need your own sleep."
"What am I supposed to do?" Emily bit back. Both profilers held their breath as JJ moaned slightly and settled back against the couch in a restless sleep.
Dropping his voice, Hotch looked at Emily pointedly, "You're supposed to take care of yourself. You can't take care of JJ if you're so tired you can barely function."
"I'm fine." Emily snapped, her bloodshot eyes and the dark circles underneath them clearly showing the façade behind her words.
Hotch stopped for a moment, furrowing his brow in confusion. He was certain that Emily was running around on almost no sleep, but he also knew that he and Emily hadn't been on the best of terms for a long time. "Why don't I sleep here on your chair? That way, if JJ needs anything, I can help her—if she needs you, we can call for you?" He suggested, knowing full well that he could handle JJ on his own.
Emily bit her lip thoughtfully, too tired to be able to come up with an adequate argument. "I don't think it's a good idea." She settled on.
"Why? Because you're the only one who can take care of her?" Hotch retorted. Sighing, he tried again, "Emily, it will be fine, I promise."
"If she has a nightmare, don't touch her, just let her come around." Emily warned, on the verge of agreeing but debating inwardly if this was the right way to go.
Hotch nodded, beaming inwardly that he was able to fix this entire situation. "If she needs you, I'll call for you."
Emily nodded reluctantly, "Fine, but if she needs me, I'm just upstairs." Emily gave in. "But if she's having a nightmare, talk to her because that helps. And—"
"I know." Hotch interrupted.
"And if you touch her to try to wake her up, it will just make everything worse. So if that happens, there's pills in the cabinet, but it's locked and only I have the key, so just call for me—" Emily rambled.
"I know, Emily." Hotch insisted forcefully. Emily had a lot of responsibility heaped on her lately, and now he got his chance to help.
Emily stopped, looking over at JJ with worry. "Are you sure? Because—"
"Go to bed, Emily." Hotch said forcefully. Settling into the overstuffed chair with a good view of the blonde nestled in the corner of the couch, he smirked as he heard Emily slowly retreat up the stairs.
Maybe this wasn't so hard after all.
TRANSLATION:
Mi manta. -My blanket
Estaba tan fría. -I was so cold
No podía permitir que la niña a ser como yo. -I couldn't allow the little girl to become like me.-(FYI, this is a setup for something in the next chapter...and down the road)