𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞

"CAN YOU DESCRIBE YOUR DAY BEFORE YOU RECEIVED THAT PHONE CALL?"

A heavy sigh echoes over the faint beeping of heart monitors, and the woman lets it out shakily. "It was a normal day. Jack, he was in daycare before everything started, but they decided it was safer to keep him out for now. At least until,"

She stops, looking down at her nail beds she'd picked to pieces in her anxiety-ridden state.

"Take your time, Doctor."

"Right," Jane cleared her throat, giving a forced smile to the woman beside her hospital bed. "Like I said, it was a normal day. Haley and I were on our way to our supervised park visit with Jack when she got the phone call,"

When the phone rang, Jane instinctively tensed. For the past two months, every time the phone rang she expected news that either Foyet had been caught, or that they had to move locations again and stay away longer.

When Haley answered with a shaky echo of the U.S. Marshall's name, that fear only solidified, cementing in her chest.

Haley turned to look at Jane, worry shining in her eyes, and Jane instinctively bent down and picked up Jack, swinging him over her hip with what she hoped was a soothing smile for the boy as they abruptly stopped their walk.

"What?" Haley reaches for Jack, her pale hand trembling as he wraps his tiny hand around her fingers. "Yes," 

Jane's brows furrow deeper on her forehead and she steps closer to Haley, nudging them out of the middle of the sidewalk slightly. "Haley? What is it?"

She shakes her head, gesturing to the phone as the person on the other line speaks. Sudden horror flickers across her face and she visibly contains her reaction, making Jane's stomach flip with nausea.

"Oh, god," She breathes, eyes flickering to Jane's prodding gaze. "Aaron."

Jane's hands tightened around Jack's frame on her hip, and he grunted, pushing her off slightly. She forced herself to relax, muttering a quiet apology to him as she bit down on her tongue hard enough to taste copper in the back of her throat.

"Okay," Haley nodded, swallowing harshly around the lump in her throat. "Are you– are you sure Aaron is– are you sure?"

There was a moment's pause before Haley flipped the phone shut and let out a shaky breath, turning to chuck the cell into the trash can beside them. She turned and faced Jane, forcing a quivering smile for her curious son. "Something's happening. We need to go, now."

"We, um, we left after she ditched the cell phone," Jane fumbled with her IV, fidgeting nervously with anything she could get her hands on.

She swallowed roughly, squeezing her eyes shut as she willed her beeping pulse to calm. "We took a cab back to our house– the– the one we all lived in before the divorce. I was going to go back to the safe house I'd been put in, but Haley was rattled and she couldn't handle Jack alone thinking that– that Hotch was dead. She asked me to come with her, because she couldn't keep it together."

"And you could?"

"What?"

"You said that Haley was upset, and couldn't keep calm in front of Jack. Were you otherwise unresponsive to the news of Agent Hotchner's demise?"

Jane gave her a nasty look, ignoring the pulsing throbs of pain that ebbed through her body. "The thought of losing Aaron was devastating. He's my father. But I kept it together for Haley and Jack because they needed me too. Compartmentalizing is something they teach at the Academy– I'm sure you're familiar with it, Chief Strauss."

The older woman is silent for a moment, the recording tape continuing on between them. She nods, eventually, face still stone-cold. "Continue, please,"

Jane clenched her jaw and rolled her shoulders back against the propped up bed. "We went to the house immediately. When we got there, I– I took Jack into the living room while Haley called– called him back. I was trying to keep Jack entertained, so I started playing chess with him. I've– I've been teaching him since we were first put into protection, because I started learning when I was his age, and–"

She stops, voice beginning to shake again as she leaned back against the stiff pillow on her bed. "Um– I don't know how much time passed between Haley calling him, and his arrival. I just remember him knocking on the door, and I just– I could feel it in my gut. Something was just– wrong."

When the knock sounded, Jane thought for a moment that she would simply vomit, her stomach so wrought with nerves she could hardly force focus onto the chessboard before her. She sent Haley a small nod, and the woman briefly left the room to answer the door.

Jane stood from her seat, turning to look at the doorway, her dissipating nausea coming back in full force when Haley walked back in with an all too familiar figure following after her. She inhaled sharply, making Haley's gaze snap towards her, concern flashing in her eyes.

"Jane? What is it?"

Jane clasped her hand around the back of the chair, knuckles going white. "Haley,"

The man suddenly smiled, the grin spreading across his face like a rapid wildfire. "Little Jane," His voice was exactly the same as she remembered it– cold and detached.

"I remembered his voice. I remembered when– the first time, ten years ago, I was in the hospital at the same time as him. And they put me in a room with him for one day, but I– I had complications in the middle of the night, and there was internal bleeding around some of my wounds, and they had to take me back into surgery. I– he never spoke. If he'd talked, then, in the hospital, I would've known it was him. I never forgot the sound of his voice."

"Mommy?" Jack's tiny voice came and the trio of adults all looked at him, varying emotions displayed towards his presence. "Who is he?"

Foyet smiled that evil smile, and Jane shivered, turning to look at Jack with objective horror. "My name is George. I'm here to help you and your mom, and your friend Jane."

Foyet turned, looking at Haley as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Mrs. Hotchner, I want you to make a phone call. It's real important,"

He dialed a number, and handed the ringing device to Haley, who took it with shaky hands as he suddenly turned his attention onto Jane.

"Foyet."

Hotch's voice echoed through the speaker and Jane felt her body tremble at the relief that poured through her. "Aaron? You're okay?"

There's a pause before he answers and Jane looks away, her eyes drifting back to Jack as Foyet approached her. "I'm fine."

Jane stayed dutifully silent as he pushed her back down into the chair, pulling a bundle of rope out of his zipped up jacket.

"But, he said that," Haley trailed off, her eyes widening as she watched Jane allow herself to be tied to the chair. "Oh, Aaron,"

"He can hear us, right? Is Jane there?"

Jane bit the inside of her cheek as Foyet wrapped the rope around her chest, constricting her heaving breaths.

"Yes," Haley whispered. "Yes, she's here. He's– he's tying her to a chair. I am so sorry."

"Haley," He pauses. "Show him no weakness, no fear."

Haley nodded, though her ex-husband was unable to see her as she wiped tears from the corner of her eyes. "I know, I know,"

A whimper of a cry died in Jane's throat as Foyet delicately slid a knife into his hand, dragging the sharp blade down her arm through her shirt sleeve.

"He's hurting her— he's hurting Jane," Haley watched, standing tensely and utterly helpless as she was slowly tortured. Sam told me all about him. Is he, uh,"

"No, Sam is fine." Hotch's hurried voice comes, and Jane drops her head down, panting heavily as she felt the knife dig in deeper.

"Aaron, Aaron, Aaron," Foyet suddenly drawled, making Jane tense. "Is that why your marriage broke up, because you're a liar?"

"Don't listen to him, Haley,"

"I have Sam's service phone right here," Foyet shook the device tauntingly, fleetingly lifting the knife from Jane's arm to look her way. "They sent out a mass text about his death. You can take a look if you want,"

Haley flinched away from his stare, looking between Jane and Jack. "You don't have to hurt her. She hasn't done anything."

"Jane," Aaron suddenly addressed her, and she released her teeth from her tongue, jaw aching with how tight she'd been clenching it to keep her pained noises quiet. "Do you have your gun?"

"No," She whispered shakily, knowing he'd hear her through the speaker. "I left it in Jersey at the safe house. I'm sorry, Aaron. I'm sorry,"

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault. I should've kept you away from this." He pauses, breath hitching audibly. "Haley, he's trying to scare you."

Foyet smiled as he flipped the blade smoothly in his hand, angling it down to her leg, bound to the chair at her ankles. "Did you even tell your wife what this was about? About the deal?"

"He's just trying to make you angry."

"Well, she should be," Foyet frowned, lifting the knife from Jane's skin to wave it lazily at Haley. "Little Jane should be, too. She didn't learn from my lesson the first time around, and now they're both gonna..." He trails off, looking at Jack with a fake wince. "D-I-E, because of your inflated ego."

"No, no, please," Jane shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks as he dug the knife into her leg again, drawing blood through her jeans. "Don't hurt her. You don't have to touch her. I'm the one you didn't kill back then. I'm the one who almost caught you again this time– you don't need to hurt Haley."

"Jane, don't," Hotch's stern voice came through the phone, cutting her off. "Ignore him, Haley."

"I'm  sure you don't want her to know this part, either," Foyet smiles tauntingly, tilting his head to look at Haley. "You know, all he had to do was stop looking for me and you wouldn't be in this mess."

"Don't react."

Haley bites back another wave of tears at her ex's orders, blinking rapidly to keep tears at bay. "What is he talking about?"

Hotch takes a moment, and the silence is filled with a shrill scream from Jane as Foyet lodges the knife into her stomach, letting it stay there as he straightens out to his full height.

"Tell Jack I need him working the case,"

Jane gasps quietly as she struggles for air as Hotch's voice echoes again at Haley's confusion.

"What?"

"Tell Jack I need him working the case,"

Haley clears her throat, forcing a small smile for her son who looks at Jane in childish confusion. "Jack, did you hear that?"

The little boy stands, taking the phone from his mother. "Hi, daddy,"

"Hi, buddy."

"Is George a bad guy? He's hurting Jane. She's bleeding a lot," 

"Yes, he is," Hotch's trembling voice answers. "Jack, I need you on this case with me. Do you understand? I need you to work the case with me."

Jack nods to himself. "Okay, daddy,"

"Jack, hug your mom for me."

The child does as told, opening his arms wide for a hug as Haley bends down and wraps her arms around him.

"Mommy hug me too tight," Jack whined, oblivious to the danger surrounding him.

Haley shook her head, kissing his temple as she let him go. "I'm sorry,"

Jack frowned at the sight of his mother's tears. "Why are you sad?"

Haley shook her head, straightening her son's shirt out. "Oh, I just love you so much."

She hugs him again, but he pulls away, passing the phone back to her. "Mommy, I gotta go, I'm working the case."

Jack runs off up the stairs and Jane throws her head back, shoulders shaking with sobs and breaths she tries to stifle as Foyet turns his attention to Haley. "He's so cute. He's like a little junior G-man. I'll be right up, Jackie-boy!"

"Is he gone?" Hotch's voice comes through the phone again and Jane rolls her head on her shoulder, looking at Haley through her spotting vision.

"Yes,"

Hotch sighs. "You're so strong, Haley. You're stronger than I ever was."

"You'll hurry, right?"

Foyet walks slowly towards Haley, pulling a gun from the back of his pants as he moves behind her. Jane watches, stiffened in her position as blood slowly trickles out of her around the knife still lodged in her stomach.

"Please, don't," Jane uselessly pleads, her words unmistakable despite her pained slur. "Please."

"I know you didn't sign on for this," Hotch mutters to his wife.

"Neither did you," Haley shakes her head, tears falling steadily. "You and Jane, you'll make sure he remembers me, right?"

Jane lets out a sound of grief as Foyet lays a hand on Haley's shoulder, clutching her tight. "No, please, please, please,"

"I'm sorry for everything,"

Haley swallows roughly before speaking again. "Promise me that you will tell him how we met, and how you used to make me laugh."

"Please don't do this, Foyet," Jane shakes her head where it's slumped against her shoulder, gasping painfully as she coughs around the blood pooling in her lungs. "Please, just kill me. Don't hurt her."

"He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron. I want him to believe in love, because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him. Promise me." 

There's only a moment's hesitation, brought on by the tears Hotch swallows around. "I promise,"

Jane's eyes widen in horror as Foyet presses the gun into her spine and pulls the trigger, her screams echoing in harmony with the trio of gunshots.

"And what happened after that?" 

Jane sniffled, wiping uselessly at her tear-stained cheeks. "I was unconscious when Aaron got to the house due to excessive blood loss and trauma from the injuries Foyet had inflicted on me."

"And Agent Hotchner left you there, injured and tied to a chair?"

"He called for a medic, and then proceeded to take care of the serial killer on his way to murder his son."

"Do you think Agent Hotchner had the ability to determine your safety was guaranteed before he proceeded into the house?"

"I think Aaron knew that if I was conscious, I would've told him to go for Jack first anyways. If you're implying that my thoughts on Aaron's takedown should be impaired because he wasn't overly worried about my safety in favor of his son's, then I don't think we have much more to talk about, Chief Strauss. I will never blame Aaron for my condition, and I will never think that he should've focused on me more. If I had been prioritized, and something had happened to Jack, there would've been no point in me surviving in the first place. Nothing you say will ever change that fact, no matter how many misleading questions you ask me."

A pregnant pause follows Jane's declaration, and Jane stares the woman down unflinchingly, cheeks flushed from anger, though the rest of her remained pale amidst her recovery.

Sufficiently scolded, Strauss nods, silently urging her to finish her retelling.

Shifting on the uncomfortable bed, Jane looked down at her lap. "I don't know how long I was out, ten minutes at most. When I regained consciousness for a brief moment, all I saw was Hotch in the back of the ambulance with me. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in this room, thinking nothing but the fact that I wasn't supposed to be alive."

"Why do you say that?"

"George Foyet repeatedly injured himself in non-fatal locations to inflict pain upon himself to not only victimize himself, but to pose as a victim of the man that he actually was. In doing so, he did exactly what he said he was going to do– immortalize himself in history. He was a psychotic narcissist, and across the decade and a half that he spent killing people, he never once made a mistake in anything he did."

She brought a shaky hand up to tap at her chest through the thin hospital gown, lips turned down in a scowl. "I was a victim of the Reaper before we knew it was George Foyet. I was there, the first time, and I never forgot a single thing he did to me. I knew he kept me alive that time– I was the message. I was the reason that Tom Shaunessy took the deal that Foyet offered him– because no police force could survive an 18 year old girl getting stabbed 78 times and then say that they couldn't catch the guy who did it."

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks that she didn't bother wiping away.

"I was never going to survive a second time– he inflicted fatal wounds on me on purpose, because Jack was next. He wanted Hotch to be alone. That was always the goal, all because Hotch refused to take his deal. So when I say that I know Foyet wanted me to die due to the wounds he inflicted on me, it is of sound mind and body."

Strauss shifted, pulling her glasses off of her face as she rubbed tiredly at her eyes. "Do you believe that Agent Hotchner was in control of his actions that day in spite of everything that happened?"

"Yes."

The older woman heaves a heavy sigh and clicks the tape recorder off, standing from the uncomfortable chair. She peers down at the young doctor, a rare gleam of pity in her eyes. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Doctor. And if you need anything during this time, the Bureau will be happy to provide it. 

"Jane!"

Jane stiffened, snapping her gaze over to Jack as he ran into the room, Hotch following close behind him with an apologetic frown. The little boy skidded to a stop beside her bed before Hotch could scold him for jumping on her and she dropped her gaze to him, bloodshot eyes watching him like he might disappear.

"Hey, Jack," Jane smiled, pushing herself over on the bed and patting the free space made for the boy to climb up beside her.

"Jane," Hotch intoned scoldingly, his eyes briefly flickering to Strauss. "Chief Strauss. Be careful, Jack. She's hurt, remember?"

Jack nodded, laying against the bed beside Jane. His wide brown eyes went to Chief Strauss, who smiled painfully at the sight of the little boy, otherwise oblivious to the severity of the events that had transpired a few days ago.

"Are you gonna be hurt forever, Jane?"

Jane lifted her arm and let Jack lean into her side as Hotch pulled a chair up to the side of her bed, settling in for their visit. "I am going to be just fine, Jack. As soon as I'm out of here, we are going to the science center and eat ice cream for breakfast and dinner, no matter what Dad says."

His face lit up and he smiled, fumbling with the action figure he'd carried in with him. "And  can we go to the zoo?"

Jane's eyes flickered to Aaron's, and the man sighed before nodding, giving both of them an poorly feigned look of exasperation. "We can go to the zoo if you're good,"

Jane chuckled, jostling Jack with her arm and making the boy giggle. "Tell dad that we're always good, Jack," She looked at Hotch, mocking a stern look.

"We're always good, Dad," Jack echoes dutifully, smiling up at Jane.

Hotch shook his head, a fond look shining in his darkened gaze. His eyes flickered to the Chief who forced a smile at the remains of the Hotchner family and gathered her things.

She stopped in the doorway, looking over her shoulder at the two adults. "Get well soon, Doctor. If you need anything at all, just let us know." 

"Thank you, Chief Strauss." 

The woman departed, and slowly but surely, the tension leaked from the hospital room of the young doctor.

A few hours later, when a nurse stepped into Jane's room to check her vitals and give her another round of pain medicine, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of Agent Hotchner slumped over the side of Jane's bed, holding onto his son's hand, long after they'd all fallen asleep.

──────

It took a week for Jane to be able to stand completely upright again. It took another week for her to be able to go home.

She went back to her apartment, despite Hotch's disdain for the idea. He'd taken care of her the first time around, all those years ago, but she'd been stubborn and insisted that she had Calvin to watch over her while her stitches finished healing.

The day she finally went home, Calvin was at the door waiting while Hotch helped her up the stairs. He'd assuaged Hotch's nerves by confirming he had the whole house basically stocked like a hospital with first aid care, and he had all of Jane's favorite snacks, and plenty of things to make her favorite meals when she could finally stomach a whole plate of food again.

She was happy to be back in her apartment, and relieved at the sight of Calvin's familiar face. He hadn't been able to visit her much in the hospital because of work, but now, after the months she spent in witness protection and then her stint in the hospital, she was back under his keen eye every morning and night.

He'd helped her shower, careful to not scrub over her stomach too hard, and avoid the harsh lines on her thighs that had been reopened. The doctors had told her that in reopening some of her old wounds, Foyet had created a lot of scar tissue in her legs and around her muscles that she'd be stiff and have mobility issues on a bad day. Jane remembered the ache she'd felt in her body after the first attack, even as young as she was back then. It felt like she'd been steamrolled flat into the pavement for two weeks afterwards, and then it just felt like she'd been running a marathon 24/7 with how sore her muscles were.

Now, at nearly 30 years old, her body couldn't bounce back half as well as it did back then, and she didn't even have nearly as many wounds as she did the first time.

Despite her efforts to not think about it, all it did was remind her of the fact that she wasn't supposed to survive this time around. She'd always felt doomed, but the second that Foyet had walked in the door at their old house, she'd known he was going to kill her. She had foolishly hoped that he'd just kill her as a way to wrap up his original killings with a nice little bow, and the despair that floods her when she suddenly replays the entire day in her head and remembers that she lived is catastrophic. It's enough to make her feel like she's drowning.

She doesn't stay in the shower much longer after that initial sensation builds in her chest.

Calvin helps her out, hands her a towel and gives her a soft set of her pajamas that feel nice against her skin.

By the time Jane crawls into her own bed again for the first time in months, she's half-asleep by the time her head hits the pillow.

Calvin crawls in behind her, arm resting carefully around her chest as he clings to her beneath the covers.

He leans his head down and presses a kiss to her shoulder, thumb caressing the new scar on her stomach through the fabric of her shirt.

Jane's gaze stays locked on the wall she faces, suddenly not tired at all.

Calvin leans back to press another kiss to the back of her head, and she flinches when his position tugs at her hair slightly.

"I missed you, Jane," He says, voice full of something fond but satisfied.

Prompted, Jane responds. "I missed you, too."

The hand splayed across her stomach stops its gentle back and forth caress for a moment, and he lets out a sigh as he squeezes her frame against his chest.

A choked off groan gets pushed from her chest at the pain that throbs through her whole body, and she chokes around the air that gets lodged in her throat.

Calvin's voice echoes right next to her ear, sending a shiver down her spine in the darkness. "I'll never let you out of my sight again,"

Jane rests her hand atop his beneath the covers, fingers lacing with his as she stares blankly at the wall she can faintly see a shadow of a painting hanging on. "I know."

──────

author's note; if it's any consolation to y'all, joey is going to actually murder me irl for this one

edited and published; 8.20.23.

- liz