Drabble: Nightmares
Word Count: 340
Genre: Angst
Summary: Hotch has a frightening dream about losing JJ.
Hotch's eyes met the blinding light of the morning, which made itself known the second the curtains had been tugged open. He yawned, trying to let his eyes adjust to the light. The person who had opened the curtains turned to face him, and a smile overtook his face.
"JJ," he said, sitting up quite quickly.
But she didn't speak. That's when he saw it. The blood. The walls were stained with it. Was it hers? No... He saw it now, her white pajama top stained red.
A word escaped her lips, sounding much like 'A-Aaron.' Why couldn't he move? To run to her. He wanted to run to her. What had happened? How had he not woken up? JJ made a coughing sound, and blood began pooling out of her mouth. He saw her shaking, pleading with her eyes for him to help her.
Again, he tried to move. He had no such success and all he could do was watch her fall to the ground into the pool that had formed below. There was no more gagging, no more pained gasps, and no more movement. There was still a chance, there had to be. That's when he saw the other figure. Foyet. The Boston Reaper. "I told you to be scared," he said with a laugh as he crouched down next to the body, no, not body, JJ. He crouched next to JJ.
"Well, better safe than sorry, right?" Foyet asked, stroking JJ's hair. Hotch saw the knife, but there was nothing he could do, the scream wouldn't leave his mouth. It plunged right into her back, and all he heard was the laughter...
Hotch awoke suddenly, his chest heaving. Still feeling the effects of the dream, he turned over as quickly as he could to reach for her. And the relief when he felt the softness of her hair... He stroked it gently, and pulled JJ closer. She was safe. He'd make sure it stayed that way.