A/N: Hey! I'm so sorry that it's been so long since the last chapter. I was really lacking in motivation to write over the past few months, but I'm finally back to it. I posted two FBI fics this past week, and I have a lot more planned for that fandom as well as this story. I'm excited about the plan I have for continuing this one, and hopefully there won't be any more long breaks. Just to note, there is no time jump between this chapter and 13, so you may want to skim over it since it's been so long. Again, I'm so sorry, and I truly appreciate those of you who are sticking with me!

…

Street was officially set to return to work tomorrow, and at the moment, he had mixed feelings. He knew he needed to go back. Sitting around this apartment 24/7 was messing with his head… but at the same time, he was worried about JJ. He didn't know that leaving her alone was such a good idea.

What else could he do though? He had to return at some point. Maybe a small sense of normalcy would do them both some good.

He hadn't got much rest last night, and was sure JJ hadn't either. It was nearing four in the morning before she eventually cried herself to sleep.

Street had felt bad laying there listening to her, but by the time he mustered up the strength to go in there, JJ had already drifted off into a restless sleep. He did step into the room long enough to pull the covers more securely around her slim body and then drop a soft kiss to the top of her head. He was mentally kicking himself for not going in to comfort her sooner.

Now, it was almost lunchtime, and JJ and Street had started their daily routine of walking on eggshells around each other and pretending they each weren't falling apart piece by piece.

Yeah, he definitely needed to get back to work. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

He was getting ready to suggest JJ eat something, which was a task in itself, when the doorbell rang. She was sitting on the couch, not seeming to even register the sound, so Street went to discover the identity of the unexpected guest.

Opening the door, the young officer was surprised to see Hotch standing on the other side. Before he could say anything, the other man raised his hand to silence him.

"I know, you don't want me here… but I wanted to come check on JJ. I also wanted to apologize to you."

"Hotch, you don't…"

"Yes, I do. You were right when you said what you did at the hospital. I should have done something to prevent this, and I'm sorry I didn't. I know there's nothing I can say to make any of this better. I wish I could because neither of you deserve to be going through this."

This time, Street was the one to interrupt. "Stop, Hotch. I appreciate you saying this, but I shouldn't have said what I did. This wasn't on you, and I shouldn't have blamed you for it. I'm sorry."

"No need, I understand." Hotch's eyes were dark with rarely expressed emotion, and Street knew that he really did understand. While the two situations weren't completely the same, Hotch lost his wife at the hands of a killer, so he could relate to the emotions.

Street, knowing no words adequate enough to continue that part of the conversation, reached out his hand for Hotch to shake.

Hotch returned the gesture before glancing towards the closed door. "Is it okay if I see JJ?"

Street nodded. "Yeah. Some human interaction with someone other than me would probably do her some good."

They started to go inside, but before Street could open the door, Hotch stopped him. "Street, how is she, really? I've spoken to her on the phone since she's been home, but I get the feeling she's not being completely honest."

"That's because she's not. Hotch, she doesn't want anyone to know how much she's struggling… and she really is struggling. I can barely even get her to eat."

Hotch nodded grimly. "What about you? How are you doing?"

"I don't know." With that, he cut off any further reply by opening the door and leading the agent inside the dreary apartment. "JJ? Hotch is here."

The blonde turned around, and tried to give Hotch a smile. It wasn't all that convincing, but Street thought it might do her some good to see her longtime friend. The team had been giving her space to recover, calling to check in rather than visiting a lot. They knew she needed time to deal with the trauma and didn't want to overwhelm her.

JJ had been great at putting on a façade over the phone, hiding the psychological pain that had been tormenting her for the past four weeks… but Street saw how she was really dealing, and it scared him. He hoped maybe Hotch could break through some of her walls that seemed to be made of stone.

"Hey, JJ. I hope you don't mind me stopping by."

"No, it's fine." JJ gestured around the living room, signaling that Hotch was free to take a seat.

Street grabbed his cell phone and slipped into his tennis shoes that were by the door. "I'll give you two some time, I'm going for a run."

Hotch gave a brief nod, and JJ barely reacted. She would probably be more inclined to open up to him if Street wasn't in the room. With that in mind, he left for the complex's running trail. He himself could use the outlet to relieve some of his pent-up stress.

Running or any sort of physical exercise had always been Street's go-to for stress relief in the past. It usually did the trick, but even this hadn't been helping with the events of the past while. Today probably wouldn't be any exception.

JJ had run this trail with him so many times before, and doing it without her was yet another reminder of everything that had changed.

…

"Do you, uh, do you want something to drink?" JJ was still on the couch, with Hotch taking up residence in the chair not far from her.

"No, I'm fine, JJ. Thank you." He left it at that, waiting to see if she wanted to lead the conversation.

"How's Dave?" She was already steering it away from herself like he figured she would.

"He's doing a lot better. Doctors say after another month or two he should be near full recovery."

"Wh- what about Stephen's family?" She didn't meet his eyes, and Hotch knew this was painful for her to even talk about.

It was for him too. "They're dealing. We've asked if there was anything the unit could do, but Monica declined."

She kept silent, but nodded at his words. He discreetly studied the blonde for a moment, worrying about how closed off she seemed. He wasn't used to seeing her like this. JJ had always been so vibrant and full of life, even brightening his spirits during some of the worst times of his life and career… now it was if she was merely a shell of who she used to be.

Hotch still felt responsible. He appreciated Street's apology, but he honestly did blame himself for what happened to his agent. He wished, more than anything, that he could go back and prevent her from going on that raid. He should have known something wasn't right. Hell, he should've been there himself.

Scratch had taunted and tormented him on several occasions. Maybe if he would have been there, Scratch would have went after him instead.

"Don't."

Hotch looked up at JJ, noticing that her eyes, for the first time, were locked on his. "I'm sorry?"

"I know what you're doing. You're blaming yourself again for what happened." Her voice was flat, carrying no emotion. "I told you back in the hospital that this wasn't on you. I didn't think it was then, and I don't think it now."

Hotch thought back to the conversation she was referring to. It was the first time he had been let into her room after she woke up in the hospital. He had sat by her bed as she cried. It was the one time he had ever saw her not bother to hide the tears. They flowed freely and it deeply pained him to see one of the strongest women he knew fall to pieces. With his own eyes misting over, he told her how sorry he was that he let this happen, and that it was his fault she was in that hospital bed.

Once she finally spoke, she told him that he wasn't to blame. That aside from Scratch, there was only one person who could've prevented it… herself.

Hotch didn't see it that way. He still didn't weeks later as he sat in her living room.

"Please don't do that to yourself, Aaron." This time, her words were more of a whisper, and her teary eyes tore into his heart. "This isn't your fault."

He knew she meant it. With every fiber in his being he knew she really didn't blame him. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She had too much of a guilt complex for that… but he had that same complex, and the pain and anguish she had been subjected to kept him up at night. This, however, wasn't supposed to be about him, so he redirected the conversation. "It's not yours either, JJ."

"Let's not go there, Hotch."

She believed him about as much as he believed her. He would let that go for now… but after she had a little more time, he would do everything he could to convince her that she was not to blame. The trauma was enough, she didn't need the guilt to go along with it. "Have you been getting any sleep?"

She nodded, though he wasn't convinced.

"JJ?"

She was silent for a long moment. "Some. I have nightmares."

He knew that by nightmares, she meant memories. Probably some that were only resurfacing now that it had been a few weeks. Truthfully, he knew that could last for years. "Did the doctor prescribe you anything?"

"Yeah, but I don't like it, the pills I mean. They make me feel off. I can't take them and go back to work."

She was already talking about work? "Well, you could take them until you do come back… which won't be for a while… right?"

She shrugged.

"JJ, how soon were you thinking?" He, of all people, knew what it was like to return to work too early after a trauma.

"I don't know, a couple of weeks maybe."

"JJ, I don't know if that's such a good idea." He dropped the ball with her before, he was going to do everything in his power to protect her now. "You've only been home a week."

"I know, Hotch, but… being here all day, every day is making things worse. All I do is sit around replaying that night, and everything that happened, everything I could've done differently."

Her tone was desperate, almost pleading, and Hotch knew she wasn't going to like his next comment, but he felt it was necessary. "I think you need to talk to someone."

She shook her head adamantly. "No, I can deal with it myself."

The way she said that just further confirmed the suspicions he'd been having about her and Street, and he realized that she probably was dealing with everything on her own. She was most likely either shutting Street out, or he was doing it to her. Hotch's guess was that it was either the former or a mix of both. He knew the tendency his agent had to close herself off, but he also knew that there seemed to be a great deal of tension between her and the officer.

"You shouldn't have to do it alone, JJ. You need to talk about this, get everything out in the open."

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?" It was a sarcastic remark, but Hotch could understand it. She was a private person, much like himself, so he didn't take her harsh tone to heart.

He also knew that while she was talking to him, she wasn't really opening up like she needed to. She was still guarded… and he wouldn't be able to get through to her like a professional could. "JJ, you know you can talk to me anytime, about anything. Nothing will ever change that, but you and I both know that talking to someone who specializes in this could help you a great deal."

"No, I'm fine."

"If you want to stick to that, it's up to you, and you don't have to see anyone in your personal time… but in order for you to come back to work, you will have to see the bureau's therapist. That's non-negotiable, it comes straight from the top. You know that, you know protocol."

She looked like she was about to protest again, but she clamped her mouth shut and nodded.

"And as far as that goes, I understand you wanting to come back, thinking it will take your mind off of this, but it doesn't always work out that way. You need to trust me when I say give yourself time."

A look of recognition flashed across her features, and he knew she was remembering when he returned to work after Haley's death. He wasn't in a good place mentally, and the job led to further issues.

"We all miss you and want you back, but we want you to take care of yourself first. When is your next doctor's appointment?"

"Two weeks from tomorrow."

"Well you can't return without clearance from him anyways, even just for desk duty. After that, we'll see how you're doing. If you still think you're ready to come back then, you come to me and we'll discuss it. Does that sound fair?" He was willing to work with her, but only if it was a decision that wouldn't cause her further harm.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Listen, I don't want to overstep by asking, but have you talked to Street about any of this?" He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

She shook her head. "No. He has his own issues to deal with."

Hotch didn't say anything further regarding that matter. It wasn't his place to get in the middle of their relationship. Street probably wasn't in the best mindset to help JJ through this anyways. They each needed to work through their own trauma over the ordeal.

Hotch stayed a little while longer, gently trying to coax JJ into sharing a bit of what was going on in her head, but it was to no avail. He knew better than to push her because it would only result in her pushing back even harder, and that would make things worse… so with that in mind, he stood to leave. "JJ, remember, you can come to me about anything. I want you to know that. Just because I'm suggesting you go to a professional doesn't mean I'm not here for you. I just want you to consider it."

Keeping her gaze trained on the coffee table, JJ finally nodded, though it appeared a little reluctantly.

Hotch took the step over to her, then crouched down in front of her so that he could meet her eyes.

Though he rarely displayed any physical contact, JJ was one of the few exceptions to that rule, so he reached over, grabbing one of her hands to hold tightly in both of his own. "Jennifer, I know you're hurting, and I wish more than anything that I could take it away. I know you're not caring much about your own well being right now, but I promise you that's not the case with everyone else. You have so many people that love you, and care about you. Please, if you don't feel like taking care of yourself right now, let us do it for you. Let us in, let us help you get through this."

Tears pooled in JJ's eyes, and he could feel her trembling beneath his hands.

"If you don't want to talk, it's okay. I understand, but just know, if you need anything, I'll be here."

"Aaron…" JJ looked like she was about to say something else, but before she could, the tears started flowing freely, and sobs wracked her small frame.

Hotch was on the couch beside of her in an instant, his arms wrapped firmly around her. "It's okay, JJ. Just let it out, I'm right here." His heart broke as his agent fell apart in his arms. She had become one of his best friends in the time that he had known her, and he despised the fact that she was hurting so deeply.

He had the nagging suspicion that she hadn't been able to let go like this with Street, that the young couple had been torn apart by the shared tragedy.

He held her close, though trying to be mindful of the injuries that were still healing, and he ran his hand up and down her back, all the while knowing it should be Street sitting here in his place.