Author's Note: I know, I know: it has been waaaaay too long. Please forgive me! Here's an overdue update to the Hotch Chronicles! This segment was originally going to be a stand-alone story called "200 Continued", but I found I liked it better for HC instead. If you haven't guessed, this is a "missing" scene from the 200th episode. Please let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.
Hotch Chronicles – Segment 8
/15/
You see her approaching the ambulance. "Can you give us a minute, please?" you ask the paramedic. The man steps away just as JJ comes to stand next to you. Concerned, you give her a nervous once over, wondering how your agent is. Hastings had her for more than 24 hours, giving him ample time to do damage; both physically and emotionally. In confirmation to your silent suspicions, JJ winces and clutches her side. However, it is clear to you what she needs to do, despite her pain.
"Here," you whisper, almost as if you're afraid the sound of your voice could inflict further injury to her. You take JJ's arm and help her into the back of the ambulance where Cruz is laying on a gurney. She doesn't thank you for your assistance, but you know it is because she is focused on the section chief, the man who had been there for her when you were not able to be.
Satisfied that JJ is settled, you turn away to give the two of them some privacy. Yet, you still hover close by, not willing to leave JJ's vicinity quite yet. You take this moment to observe the commotion around you. Everything is cast in a revolving hue of blue and red from the flashing lights of the various emergency response vehicles on the scene. You spot Prentiss, Reid and Morgan through the glass in the lobby of the building. Emily's smile and Morgan's demeanor reflect the relief that you're sure they are feeling. Reid isn't as relaxed, but you saw JJ give him a hug a few moments earlier, so you know he'll be okay. Blake and Rossi are talking to another agent near where Hastings' crumpled form lay on the pavement. You don't allow yourself to look at his body just yet, because your disdain for the man is still bubbling within you at a dangerous level.
Amidst all the distraction, you allow yourself to take a quick, calming breath and briefly clench your fists.
Those are the only visible signs of emotion you allow yourself to succumb to, even though they undervalue the raging storm of anger and desperation you've felt over the last 26 hours: Your heart has slowed down for the first time since you learned of JJ's disappearance. The urge to hit something has dwindled slightly and you no longer want to scream and yell at anyone that crosses your path.
You know these feelings for what they are. They completed the constant state of simmering panic that you found yourself in the minute you realized JJ was in trouble. Yet, the intensity of those feelings is foreign to you and you can't bring yourself to understand it. Essentially, it caught you off guard and if it weren't for years of practice, you can't say with any certainty that you could have remained stoic and professional during your team's desperate search for JJ.
Movement from JJ's direction pulls you out of your doomed reverie. You immediately take ahold of her arm and help her out of the ambulance. She still doesn't say anything to you and stands with her arms folded across her chest. She watches with a blank expression as the ambulance carrying Cruz drives away. It is clear to you that JJ is lost in thought. You frown, because you are pretty sure she is running through every second of the kidnapping and finding a way to blame herself. You know this, because it is exactly what you would do.
"JJ," you say, trying to bring her back to the present, away from her dark thoughts. You reach out for her and she is cold to the touch. Without really thinking about it, you remove your own jacket and place it on her shoulders. You're standing in front of her, bringing the front of the coat closed around her. JJ still hasn't moved or has even registered your presence.
"JJ," you try again.
You drop your arms to your sides, your stance mimicking the helplessness you feel. If only you had gotten there sooner. If only you had known her transfer all those years ago was a backdrop for something much more dangerous.
You stare at her face, willing to see some recognition in her eyes. You want to touch her, but you don't, since that is not what the two of you do. You settle for words instead. "Are you okay?"
You're about to go get Prentiss, but her eyes finally meet yours. Surprise graces her features at the feel of your jacket around her. She shrugs further into it and you wonder if she is subconsciously trying to hide, so you take a step back to give her room.
"Thank you, Hotch," JJ tells you in a quiet voice.
You are not sure what she's thanking you for, exactly, but you nod. "Of course, JJ."
The chaos around you seems to dim and there is only silence between you and the blonde agent in front of you. She won't meet your eyes for longer than two seconds. You wait, because right now you're content to just look at her so you can see for yourself that she's going to be okay.
"Hotch…I…" JJ's words drift off, but you already know what she is trying to say.
"There's no explanation necessary, JJ."
JJ clutches your jacket she is wearing closed, not bothering to put her arms through the sleeves. She looks small and, dare you think it, a little lost. She bites her lip, something you've never noticed her do before.
"Let's get you looked over and to the hospital," you tell her gently.
You take a step towards her and place a hand on her shoulder, another carefully at her side. You begin to move the two of you towards the other ambulance, but she surprises you. Instead of walking, JJ turns into you, hiding her face in your chest. You feel her sink into you, practically molding your chests together. You quickly wrap your arms around her, afraid she's about to fall, but JJ remains on her own two feet. You sense she wants your comfort, but you're confused because this never happens between the two of you. You loosen your hold a little, giving her the option to step out of your arms. But you feel her release a breath, which warms the fabric of your shirt, and then shudder as she tries to contain her fear and relief.
No, you have never held her like this before, but instinct takes over.
Your arms tighten around her and you bow your head into her hair. You place your mouth just above her ear. "You're safe, now. You're safe and everything is going to be okay."