Alaska: Chapter 3
Title: Alaska
Author: ficdirectory
Characters: Hotch, Team
Word Count: 10K - Chapter 3/7
Warnings/Spoilers/Rating: Disaster/Episode 5x21, "Exit Wounds"/FRT.
Summary/Prompt: The floatplane crashes on the way back from Alaska.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the CBS-owned characters mentioned. Not written for profit.
Notes: Written for nannerz2cool for her donation to ontd_ai's Dollar Drive for Japan.
Death is natural and necessary, but not just. It is a random force of nature; survival is equally accidental. Each loss is an occasion to remember that survival is a gift.
- Harriet McBryde Johnson
When darkness falls, Hotch thinks of Jack. He wonders what his son has been told, and hopes it isn't much. Hopes no one has told him anything. It will be better that way. The longer Jack is kept in the dark, the better. He just lost his mother. He does not need to contemplate losing his father, too.
He glances down at himself and feels lucky, though a pencil protrudes from his thigh like a victory flag in a battle. It had taken hours before anyone noticed it, and that was just as well. Hotch doesn't need to be focused on. He doesn't need undue attention. The rest of them have real injuries. Emily, in particular, is burned, and it is impossible to know the severity while her clothes remain stuck to the wound. It makes the stabbing pain he experiences whenever he takes a step seem small.
He has been working with the walkie-talkie that Spencer found while searching for God-knows-what in the woods. So far, there's been no contact with the outside world, but Hotch keeps trying. They can't keep going like this. The odds are not in their favor.
Beside the fire, Hotch forces himself to stay awake. In the shelters all around him, he hopes his team is getting rest, but he isn't sure if that's the case. He knows Emily is awake, because he hears her alternately cursing her own pain, screaming or insisting that she is fine. Rossi has finally managed to take over where JJ left off. They all decided it would be best, as Dave has the most knowledge and skill as an outdoorsman, and knows a thing or two about how to manage injuries. Probably none this bad, and probably not in this circumstance, but Hotch forces himself not to think about it.
He gets up and walks around their little camp. He checks on everyone. Emily and Rossi. Penelope and Derek. JJ and Spencer. Everything is quiet, and the temperature is dropping. Hotch hopes that there isn't more rain. He limps slowly back to the fire, and builds up the circle of rocks around it.
He starts talking, almost without realizing it.
"Haley, what did I get into, here?" he asks the night sky. It's blacker than anything he has ever seen, not a single star above him. "I know if you were here, you'd have told me to stop taking so many chances. To relax. To stay home with Jack. But if I stayed with him, I wouldn't be here with my team now. And I know Jack needs me, but they need me, too..."
Hotch trails off, unsure why, when all else fails him, he does not pray, but instead, speaks into the darkness, hoping Haley can hear him. It has not been long since he lost her. Still, for Hotch, the only thing to do had been to return to work. It was that or drown in grief.
There is a rustling behind him, and Hotch turns.
"It's just me," JJ whispers, sitting down to join him.
"Can't sleep?" he asks.
"No," she says, and rubs her hands together. "It's too cold in there, and Spence keeps telling me horrible plane crash statistics and coming up with all the ways we could die out here... Not very comforting."
Hotch stays quiet, but puts an arm around her, as much for body heat as to offer support.
There is a long pause and Hotch almost takes his arm back when JJ leans into him and shudders. He thinks the reality of their predicament might be finally setting in but instead she pulls away abruptly and whispers heavily, a note of scolding, somehow, in her tone.
"Holy... Hotch... You've been walking around here with a pencil hanging out of your leg?! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You didn't pull it out. That's good," JJ grimaced. He knew she was observing just how deep the wood was buried in him.
"Common sense," Hotch dismissed.
"Well, that has to be immobilized so it doesn't move or break off or something..." JJ says decidedly and excuses herself to Emily's hut, where Rossi was keeping watch over her.
JJ returns moments later, with gauze, and insists on wrapping the thing so it cannot move. She is determined and will not take no for an answer.
When that's done, it seems, she has to choice but to relax. Or at least try. But still, she finds more to do. Noticing the abandoned walkie-talkie nearby, JJ picks it up and shakes it. Turns it over. Checks the batteries.
"It was full of water. It's not going to work," Hotch offers apologetically.
In a flash of temper, JJ hurls it away from them, and toward whatever remains of the burned plane.
"Hotch, what the hell are we gonna do if we can't get out of here? Emily is like..." JJ trails off, her voice intense and quiet. "I should have never said we'd take this case..."
There is silence. Hotch can tell JJ is near tears and even though that is an anomaly so rare he is compelled to say something to soothe her worry, he finds he can think of nothing to say. He is in the same state of mind. While logically, he knows that by now someone surely is aware of their disappearance, it doesn't make their reality any easier to swallow. They're here. He's here. And Jack is home.
"Hey."
Another voice, quiet and strong. This one, somehow warms the cold night air. It holds a note of reassurance that Hotch wishes he could summon himself.
Derek sits down between them and puts an arm around each one. "This is nobody's fault. Okay, Superwoman?" Derek turns to JJ in the firelight and stares at her, taking in what Hotch cannot. He takes in her tears. Her distress. Her anger. Her fear. "You did the best that you could. They needed us in Hamilton, and we did what we came to do. No one could have predicted this..."
"Yeah, I understand that but--"
"'But' nothin'," Derek says firmly, a finger to her lips. "Look, I get it, okay? We're stuck and that's some scary-ass shit. But we have to stay positive..."
"Hey...my girl... What's wrong?" Garcia asks, making her way to the fire and sitting on JJ's other side.
"Nothing. I'm okay," JJ denies, drying her eyes.
But Garcia pulls her close, as if she has said just the opposite, and presses a kiss to the top of her head. She rests her chin there and addresses Derek, as matter-of-fact as ever.
"It's cold in there, you know. Without your body heat..."
Derek smirks. "Yeah, well... Now, we got a fire to keep us warm..."
"What's going on?"
Hotch sighs as Spencer joins the group of them. At this rate, they were going to fade even faster out here, due to sleep-deprivation. Still, Hotch knew it was pointless for them to all be alone and cold and awake when they might find comfort from simply being together.
"Is that a pencil?" Spencer asks, squinting. "We could use that..."
"How's your head?" Hotch questions, waving Spencer's curious hand away from his leg.
"It hurts a little."
"Liar. It hurts a lot," Derek accuses, concern showing in his eyes.
Spencer shrugs, as if it is all the same to him. Garcia rises to find the painkillers in her survival kit and JJ approaches him to check out his head wound.
"What the heck happened to you?" JJ asks, gently maneuvering the piece of Derek's tee shirt away from the injury.
"Something hit me, I guess..."
JJ rolls her eyes and then catches herself. "Did you lose consciousness?" she asks, concerned.
"I'm not sure. It's possible."
"God... Okay... We need to watch him," she says raising her voice just a little so Garcia, Morgan and Hotch can all be sure she is serious.
Hotch sits back and puts his head in his hands. This isn't getting better, only worse. He feels guilt pressing down on him and can't fight its weight.
"I'm sorry," he blurts, and everyone turns to look.
“What are you talkin’ about?” Derek demands.
“I’m the leader of this team. It’s my job to make sure all of you are safe and taken care of, and I haven’t been doing that.” Hotch lets out a breath, but does not feel any better.
“Nah, nah, nah,” Derek denies. “Don’t go there. We need you doin’ things with us, not for us. Our job,” he insists, his voice steady, “is to take care of each other, and we’re doing that. You need to quit blamin’ yourself, and you, too, Miss Thang,” he says looking to JJ. “This was nobody’s fault.”
Author: ficdirectory
Characters: Hotch, Team
Word Count: 10K - Chapter 3/7
Warnings/Spoilers/Rating: Disaster/Episode 5x21, "Exit Wounds"/FRT.
Summary/Prompt: The floatplane crashes on the way back from Alaska.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the CBS-owned characters mentioned. Not written for profit.
Notes: Written for nannerz2cool for her donation to ontd_ai's Dollar Drive for Japan.
Death is natural and necessary, but not just. It is a random force of nature; survival is equally accidental. Each loss is an occasion to remember that survival is a gift.
- Harriet McBryde Johnson
When darkness falls, Hotch thinks of Jack. He wonders what his son has been told, and hopes it isn't much. Hopes no one has told him anything. It will be better that way. The longer Jack is kept in the dark, the better. He just lost his mother. He does not need to contemplate losing his father, too.
He glances down at himself and feels lucky, though a pencil protrudes from his thigh like a victory flag in a battle. It had taken hours before anyone noticed it, and that was just as well. Hotch doesn't need to be focused on. He doesn't need undue attention. The rest of them have real injuries. Emily, in particular, is burned, and it is impossible to know the severity while her clothes remain stuck to the wound. It makes the stabbing pain he experiences whenever he takes a step seem small.
He has been working with the walkie-talkie that Spencer found while searching for God-knows-what in the woods. So far, there's been no contact with the outside world, but Hotch keeps trying. They can't keep going like this. The odds are not in their favor.
Beside the fire, Hotch forces himself to stay awake. In the shelters all around him, he hopes his team is getting rest, but he isn't sure if that's the case. He knows Emily is awake, because he hears her alternately cursing her own pain, screaming or insisting that she is fine. Rossi has finally managed to take over where JJ left off. They all decided it would be best, as Dave has the most knowledge and skill as an outdoorsman, and knows a thing or two about how to manage injuries. Probably none this bad, and probably not in this circumstance, but Hotch forces himself not to think about it.
He gets up and walks around their little camp. He checks on everyone. Emily and Rossi. Penelope and Derek. JJ and Spencer. Everything is quiet, and the temperature is dropping. Hotch hopes that there isn't more rain. He limps slowly back to the fire, and builds up the circle of rocks around it.
He starts talking, almost without realizing it.
"Haley, what did I get into, here?" he asks the night sky. It's blacker than anything he has ever seen, not a single star above him. "I know if you were here, you'd have told me to stop taking so many chances. To relax. To stay home with Jack. But if I stayed with him, I wouldn't be here with my team now. And I know Jack needs me, but they need me, too..."
Hotch trails off, unsure why, when all else fails him, he does not pray, but instead, speaks into the darkness, hoping Haley can hear him. It has not been long since he lost her. Still, for Hotch, the only thing to do had been to return to work. It was that or drown in grief.
There is a rustling behind him, and Hotch turns.
"It's just me," JJ whispers, sitting down to join him.
"Can't sleep?" he asks.
"No," she says, and rubs her hands together. "It's too cold in there, and Spence keeps telling me horrible plane crash statistics and coming up with all the ways we could die out here... Not very comforting."
Hotch stays quiet, but puts an arm around her, as much for body heat as to offer support.
There is a long pause and Hotch almost takes his arm back when JJ leans into him and shudders. He thinks the reality of their predicament might be finally setting in but instead she pulls away abruptly and whispers heavily, a note of scolding, somehow, in her tone.
"Holy... Hotch... You've been walking around here with a pencil hanging out of your leg?! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You didn't pull it out. That's good," JJ grimaced. He knew she was observing just how deep the wood was buried in him.
"Common sense," Hotch dismissed.
"Well, that has to be immobilized so it doesn't move or break off or something..." JJ says decidedly and excuses herself to Emily's hut, where Rossi was keeping watch over her.
JJ returns moments later, with gauze, and insists on wrapping the thing so it cannot move. She is determined and will not take no for an answer.
When that's done, it seems, she has to choice but to relax. Or at least try. But still, she finds more to do. Noticing the abandoned walkie-talkie nearby, JJ picks it up and shakes it. Turns it over. Checks the batteries.
"It was full of water. It's not going to work," Hotch offers apologetically.
In a flash of temper, JJ hurls it away from them, and toward whatever remains of the burned plane.
"Hotch, what the hell are we gonna do if we can't get out of here? Emily is like..." JJ trails off, her voice intense and quiet. "I should have never said we'd take this case..."
There is silence. Hotch can tell JJ is near tears and even though that is an anomaly so rare he is compelled to say something to soothe her worry, he finds he can think of nothing to say. He is in the same state of mind. While logically, he knows that by now someone surely is aware of their disappearance, it doesn't make their reality any easier to swallow. They're here. He's here. And Jack is home.
"Hey."
Another voice, quiet and strong. This one, somehow warms the cold night air. It holds a note of reassurance that Hotch wishes he could summon himself.
Derek sits down between them and puts an arm around each one. "This is nobody's fault. Okay, Superwoman?" Derek turns to JJ in the firelight and stares at her, taking in what Hotch cannot. He takes in her tears. Her distress. Her anger. Her fear. "You did the best that you could. They needed us in Hamilton, and we did what we came to do. No one could have predicted this..."
"Yeah, I understand that but--"
"'But' nothin'," Derek says firmly, a finger to her lips. "Look, I get it, okay? We're stuck and that's some scary-ass shit. But we have to stay positive..."
"Hey...my girl... What's wrong?" Garcia asks, making her way to the fire and sitting on JJ's other side.
"Nothing. I'm okay," JJ denies, drying her eyes.
But Garcia pulls her close, as if she has said just the opposite, and presses a kiss to the top of her head. She rests her chin there and addresses Derek, as matter-of-fact as ever.
"It's cold in there, you know. Without your body heat..."
Derek smirks. "Yeah, well... Now, we got a fire to keep us warm..."
"What's going on?"
Hotch sighs as Spencer joins the group of them. At this rate, they were going to fade even faster out here, due to sleep-deprivation. Still, Hotch knew it was pointless for them to all be alone and cold and awake when they might find comfort from simply being together.
"Is that a pencil?" Spencer asks, squinting. "We could use that..."
"How's your head?" Hotch questions, waving Spencer's curious hand away from his leg.
"It hurts a little."
"Liar. It hurts a lot," Derek accuses, concern showing in his eyes.
Spencer shrugs, as if it is all the same to him. Garcia rises to find the painkillers in her survival kit and JJ approaches him to check out his head wound.
"What the heck happened to you?" JJ asks, gently maneuvering the piece of Derek's tee shirt away from the injury.
"Something hit me, I guess..."
JJ rolls her eyes and then catches herself. "Did you lose consciousness?" she asks, concerned.
"I'm not sure. It's possible."
"God... Okay... We need to watch him," she says raising her voice just a little so Garcia, Morgan and Hotch can all be sure she is serious.
Hotch sits back and puts his head in his hands. This isn't getting better, only worse. He feels guilt pressing down on him and can't fight its weight.
"I'm sorry," he blurts, and everyone turns to look.
“What are you talkin’ about?” Derek demands.
“I’m the leader of this team. It’s my job to make sure all of you are safe and taken care of, and I haven’t been doing that.” Hotch lets out a breath, but does not feel any better.
“Nah, nah, nah,” Derek denies. “Don’t go there. We need you doin’ things with us, not for us. Our job,” he insists, his voice steady, “is to take care of each other, and we’re doing that. You need to quit blamin’ yourself, and you, too, Miss Thang,” he says looking to JJ. “This was nobody’s fault.”