Will sits in the chair by JJ's bed, fidgeting. The doctors said she'd wake up soon, but he's been half awake for so long he has no concept of time. When her eyes open and he stands up, takes her hand. "Hey," he says softly.
"Hi," she replies, her throat dry. "What h-"
"Shot," he says tersely. "He saw you on the news, and then when you were going to the motel…" He shakes his head and squeezes her hand. "You're too good for this world, honey, you don't need to be in this kind of danger every day…"
She closes her eyes. She remembers, kind of. The shot, and somebody grabbing her around the shoulders and pulling her down, and the pain. "Who…" She clears her throat, opens her eyes, and Will is pouring her water. He slips a straw into it and holds it for her while she drinks. "Thanks. Somebody tried to…"
"Emily," he says, brushing her hair back from her face. "Emily saw the gun right before -"
"Is she okay?"
"She's fine, just shaken up. She's outside, the whole team is. Henry too. You wanna see -?"
She nods, although her eyelids are still heavy and it takes a lot of effort to move anything. "Please." His face tense, he turns to walk away. "Hey, Will." He turns back and she grabs his hand. "I love you."
"I love you too," he sighs. "I just wish you'd -"
She closes her eyes for a few seconds – she doesn't want to argue about this again, not now, and even if she did she doesn't have the energy. "You know what this job means to me. It's where I belong."
He doesn't reply, because now is no time to argue about work. He leaves and comes back with the team – JJ holds her arms out for Henry and Garcia passes him over. "Mommy's okay," he says, in a voice that tells her he's been hearing that a lot, and she holds him close and buries her nose in the sweet, baby smell she knows he won't have for much longer, tears pooling in her eyes.
With Henry settled against her chest playing with her hair and her tears just about under control, her eyes find Emily, standing at her side watching with a soft smile. "Thanks," she says. "I remember you um…"
Emily shakes her head, takes her hand and there's a familiar strength in the way she holds it that has her eyes stinging all over again. "Sorry I wasn't faster," she says. "They got him – Morgan shot his tyres out," she adds, a hint of a smile in her voice. "It was like a cop movie." Except the blood on her hands, the way she felt like she couldn't press hard enough to slow the bleeding because her hands kept slipping, the total nightmarish terror JJ doesn't need to know about.
JJ feels the pressure of her fingers change a little, and squeezes. "We won," she says. She looks sideways at Will, then turns her attention to Hotch. "Have they said when I can come back to work?"
When JJ starts to fall asleep, the team start drifting toward the door, and JJ's fingers tighten around Emily's. "Stay?" she says, dragging her eyes open. "Please?"
Emily swallows hard and nods, pulls a chair closer and sits down, keeping JJ's hand in hers. "I'm right here. Get some rest."
JJ smiles and squeezes softly, then finds Will at her other side. "Henry's okay?"
"He's okay, honey," he replies. "Garcia's got it covered. Go to sleep."
She lets herself sink into the pillow and she's asleep in seconds, her breaths coming slow and deep, her hand relaxing in Emily's. She stares down at it, her eyelids heavy, her sleep deprived brain forgetting to keep her in check – she traces soft lines on the back of JJ's wrist with her fingertips.
She's almost shocked when Will speaks. "You're in love with her," he says, his voice quiet. There's no accusation in it, and no question.
Her throat aches and her stomach twists with guilt – she clenches her jaw, keeps looking at JJ's hand although she can feel his eyes on her. She should deny it, she should say they're friends, good friends, but there's nothing else. But she keeps looking down, the manicure chipped but the hand soft and slender and perfect even with the IV needle and the tape and the bruises. This is not something she's equipped to discuss right now, to deny it or deal with it. Normally, she's a pro – she can compartmentalise away pretty much anything. But she hasn't been able to close her eyes without feeling the blood on her hands all over again, seeing the light start to leave those eyes… She's exhausted, in every way it's possibly to be exhausted. She shakes her head almost imperceptibly. "Don't," she says.
"You are," he presses. "I saw it before, but I always thought maybe I was…"
"Will, don't," she repeats, her throat constricting. She closes her eyes until she's sure she can open them without crying. She looks over at him and he's staring back. He doesn't look angry, or even upset. "It doesn't change anything," she says softly, steadily, although it's not quite true. It's changed everything, from the first time she caught herself staring at JJ across a room. Nothing is the same.