/Stroke of Midnight
“What do we know so far?” Morgan asked upon entering the emergency room ten minutes later. There was snow on the collar of his dark jacket. He’d barely been close to the area where Hotch and JJ sat before asking his question.
Hotch shook his head. “Not much. There’s no news on Reid, but they thought Prentiss had a punctured lung.” Again he tried to detach himself from his words but found it nearly impossible. He knew he was being a hypocrite, after what he’d just told JJ, but he couldn’t help it. Years of being strong, stoic, made him feel the need to profess that. He had to be able to handle it, had to prove that after Haley’s death, even if it was only for his own head. “They’re being helped right now. Rossi as well.”
Morgan leaned against the wall, his arms crossed lightly in front of his chest. A sigh whistled between his clenched teeth. “We’re staying the night.” It wasn’t a question. They weren’t leaving three members of their team here alone - because they were a team, they weren’t about to leave them behind.
Hotch nodded once, feeling the same. “I need to call Jessica and let her know - I’ll need to talk to Jack later, but he doesn’t expect me home until morning.” He muttered, but his face was stoic and he showed no signs of his disappointment. “I suggest you call your families as well - I don’t know when we’ll be out of here.” The problem was that he’d need to be out of here by later today - it was Christmas Eve, and he had to spend it with Jack. He couldn’t leave Jack alone on his first Christmas Eve without his mother.
J.J.’s legs were tucked up next to her chest, her chin resting on one knee, her eyes staring far off into space. “I’ll call Will in the morning.” She said, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her eyes drifted shut and she sighed deeply.
Morgan ran a hand over his head, opening his mouth to say something. Before he got the chance, however, his phone buzzed. The profiler reached for it, aware of JJ and Hotch staring at him as he answered. “Yeah, Garcia.” Again his voice held none of the cheer that it normally did when talking to her. He checked the time on his watch - 12:30.
“I’m about a half hour out, Morgan.” She began. “Don’t worry, I’m being careful.” She moved from one sentence to the other with barely a breath. “Do we have any news on them? Her voice was breathless, and he wondered if she’d forgotten to breath.
“Not yet, Pen.” He answered, sighing. “I’ll let you know as soon as we do.”
“Okay. Alright.” He heard her say, and heard a car honking in the background. He cringed. “What can I get for you guys, then?” She asked, and he recognized it immediately - she felt she could do nothing, so she was going to try to do everything, the mother duck taking care of her ducklings.
He looked at them - J.J.’s eyes near closing and Hotch putting on an act. “Coffee would do us all some good, Garcia.” He admitted.
“Coffee. Coffee, good, I can do coffee.”
“Alright, baby girl, drive carefully.” He told her, before hanging up the phone and turning back to the team.
“How is she?” Hotch asked, and Morgan knew exactly what he meant.
“She’s panicking.” He admitted. Hotch nodded.
Several more moments passed in silence. JJ fell asleep with her chin against her knee, and Morgan put his jacket around her shoulders when he saw her shivering. Neither had the heart to wake her, even though she’d be upset she’d fallen asleep. Morgan passed the time leaning against the wall - too anxious to resume the pacing he normally kept up in situations like this. In the silence, Hotch was reliving the moments of the ambulance, hoping that what the EMT had guessed wasn’t true. It wouldn’t be an easy trip for Prentiss if she did have a punctured lung.
When the clock turned to 12:54, a doctor with graying hair approached the three members of the team. The man was carrying a clipboard in his left hand, and a stethoscope hung around his neck.
“David Rossi?” He called out. JJ woke as if it had been her name that had been called. Hotch stood, alerting the doctor to their presence. “Hello.” He said. “I’m Dr. Jackman.”
“SSA Hotchner, SSA Morgan, and SA Jareau.” Hotch said. Morgan didn’t contend with the older man taking the leadership. “How is he?”
Dr. Jackman smiled kindly. “Lucky.” Was his first answer. “Mild concussion, dislocated shoulder, and a broken wrist. He’s awake right now and his vitals are stable.”
Each of them breathed a sigh of relief, but it was momentary - they still had Reid and Prentiss to worry over.
JJ looked at Hotch, then back at Dr. Jackman. “Can he have visitors?”
“I would advise it.” Dr. Jackman said, caught between a laugh and a sigh. “I’ve already had one nurse walk out on me.”
Brows furrowed in confusion.
“He’s insistent upon finding out the condition of the other two passengers. I’m not their doctor, we don’t know - but that’s not stopping him from asking. I assume one of you knows at least something about them - something more than we do.”
Hotch nodded. “I’ll go.” He stood, looking back towards the team. They looked so tired, worn out, and he knew that he had to look even worse. “If there’s news…”
“We’ll let you know.”