A/N Wow! That's all I can really say, wow! All your reviews just made my day, and a big basket of thank-yous to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited this story! I'm so happy I'm speechless, thankfully writing doesn't involve talking! I apologize if I mess up any of the medical procedures, I'm not a doctor, and the only research I have is the internet and episodes of Grey's Anatomy. Most of the story from now onward will be JJ's point of view, so I'll only label it if I change unexpectedly. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story, and without further ado, here's chapter five!

-Nightshade

By the way, I don't own Criminal minds or its characters; if I did Paget Brewster would not be leaving the show.

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Five

The plane touched down on Syrian soil with a dull thud, much like the hollow and erratic beating of my nervous heart. Of all the situations I've ever been in, getting shot at, beaten up, nearly attacked by dogs, this was the most nerve-wracking. Because in all those situations I had Emily by my side comforting me, and now, I don't even know if she'll pull through. I hopped out of the plane and was greeted by a nondescript black car with tinted windows, sent to pick me up. The car looked like it was armoured, and the glass on the windows was abnormally thick. Penelope really went all out on this one, but I guess she just didn't want two of her friends injured overseas. Though frankly, all this scene needed was an armoured guard doing the driving! The doctors stayed in the plane, prepping for the incoming patient I suppose, while I boarded the car and suppressed an ironic chuckle upon seeing the driver. The guy looked easily over six feet tall, with a bulletproof vest, at least three guns, and a pair of cool looking aviator sunglasses, this vehicle was a cliché on wheels! The happy moment fled just as quickly as it had come, and I was back in my nervous mindset. We were at the hospital in minutes thanks to the empty road; I guess traffic goes way down when there's been an explosion in the area. Stepping out of the car I rushed to the door while shielding my eyes from the sun, I suddenly felt envious of my driver's sunglasses. The inside of the hospital was quiet, abnormally quiet after an explosion.

C'mon JJ stay positive, maybe everyone's already been treated and released?

I found a nurse and asked her to page Dr. Sierawan, hoping he wouldn't take too long. The hospital was one floor, small enough that I could probably find Emily's room without the help. A man in a lab coat came up next to me,

"JJ?" he asked, offering his hand to shake. I accepted it briskly, not really caring for pleasantries. The man was older, with grey streaks in his black hair and creases in he rich brown skin around his eyes and mouth

"Agent Jareau, yes." I corrected since I didn't feel I knew him well enough to call me by my nickname.

"I'm Dr. Sierawan, Emily's room is just down this hallway." He began walking to a corridor on his left, and I followed so close behind I nearly stepped on his heels. "She's still asleep, and I'd like her to stay that way until her brain is fully healed. I'll gather her chart and scans for you to take back to the other doctors." He excused himself, and I walked over to Emily's bedside. All my mental images could not have prepared me for the real thing. Tears misted over my eyes before I'd even gotten a glimpse of her, and I blinked them away, allowing them to run down my cheeks. All I could see were wires, leads on her chest, needles in her arm, tubes in her throat. Every visible inch of her gorgeous skin, once as pristine as a porcelain doll, was marred my scratches or scrapes. Her right leg was hanging out of the thin hospital blanket, and had been bandaged from toe to hip. Every rise and fall of her chest was forced by the machines, and grated through her battered lungs. Everything about this scene felt horribly wrong, like a nightmare, she was not supposed to be this broken. I took her hand in mine, being careful not to jostle the IV line connected there, and just savoured the feeling of her warmth. Now that felt right. I tried to calm myself down before I broke down crying, this wasn't the time or the place and Emily needed someone to be strong for her, so I remained in-control and stoic, leaning over to stroke her ebony hair.

"Oh Em, why is it always you?" I whispered, thinking back to the incident with Doyle. There she was gone, completely. We had to pretend she was dead, but it still felt like she was gone. At least she's here now, I can see her and touch her and hear her breathing, that's better than her just disappearing right? The doctor returned with a binder and some large envelopes.

"She's ready to be discharged now." He was talking, but I wasn't really listening, still focused on Emily's sleeping face until he started disconnecting the machines.

"Doesn't she need those?" my eyes shot up, suddenly nervous that he would press a button and Emily would vanish.

"No, she's breathing over the ventilator, and she doesn't need the medications now. All she needs is time, with these types of brain injuries, time is needed to heal." Her brain, what if she had injured it too badly? What if she woke up and couldn't remember anything, or couldn't talk, or couldn't move? A new door full of terrifying possibilities was thrown open. In the face of all this overwhelming panic, I felt numb. I couldn't feel the tears in my eyes or the breath in my lungs, all I was aware of was the soothing warmth of Emily's hand which served as a constant reminder that she was still alive. The doctor had finished, and was standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Well, I'll call an orderly to move the gurney, I have other patients to attend to so-" I cut him off, remembering my thoughts earlier while on the plane.

"Wait, have you heard any news on an Elizabeth Prentiss? She's Emily's mother, is she a patient here or is she being treated at a different hospital?" I didn't need to be a profiler to see his face fall and realize the next news I was about to receive wasn't going to be good news.

"When the device detonated, it was very powerful, designed for minimum survival. It was timed just so that everyone had entered the building, and was within range. It threw a lot of shrapnel around; there was a lot of carnage and few survivors. And as sad as I am to say this, there aren't any patients that go by that name, none even old enough to be her mother. We treated a little girl, and two little boys and those were the only ones who made it, I'm sorry." His words rang in my ears. Emily's mother can't be dead, she can't! I mean this is bad enough but that news could cripple her! I began hyperventilating, grasping onto the rails of the hospital bed to stop me from falling over as black spots danced in front of my vision. This was all too much! Please tell me this is a nightmare, and I'll wake up at home with Henry after a night out with the team, awaiting Emily's arrival to hear about her stories from her trip. I screwed my eyelids shut, begging it all to disappear when they opened again. But of course it didn't. Dr. Sierawan was about to leave before he stopped, looking as if he'd forgotten something.

"Agent Jareau, she also- over the phone I didn't get to tell you the entire message she'd written, the photos of the scene are in here." He passed me a small white envelope before walking out. I struggled to get the envelope open with one hand, but I sure as heck wasn't going to let go of Emily's hand to free up my other one. Flipping through the pictures quickly, I tried not to see the images seared onto the shiny paper, pictures of my friend at her worst possible moment, until I found the one. With shaky script in a rusty red against a flat slab of grey concrete, was my phone number, and the attached message,

"JJ, I love you, Emily"

Was this some kind of a sick joke, or was it true, did she love me? The little voice of scepticism in my head was blocked out by the unexpected well of happiness. This was the last thing she wanted to say, out of anything she wanted to tell me she loved me. Forget the scepticism, that means something.

"Emily, I got your message, I love you too, but I really need you to wake up right now, I need to tell it to your face, I need you to open your eyes and tell me!" I begged softly, hoping she could hear me. The orderly came to bring her out to the car, and I refused to leave her side or let go of her hand. Once inside we were headed straight for the airport. I kept muttering to her, talking about anything and everything, the night out with the team, Henry and how much he's grown, Will and how much he was pissing me off, just talking to fill the air. When we boarded the plane I was pushed aside by the doctors and nurses waiting aboard. I sat in the corner of the plane, waiting impatiently for them to leave her alone so I could go back over there. We were waiting now, just as the doctor said. It was a waiting game and only time would tell if I'd ever hear her say that she loves me back.