What Happens Next

XXV. Protect Her

"Mrs. Jareau?" a man's voice called from behind the  anxious blonde, "you and your husband can follow me."

JJ turned to Will, who was seated beside her, her eyes met his briefly, flitting away as he forced a smile. She breathed a sound which she tried to pass as a laugh. He placed a warm hand on her knee, which caused her body to tense, despite her desperately desiring comfort in his touch. He rose from his seat moments later, offering a hand to pull her up. 

He released his grip on her hand as soon as she found her feet, stuffing his own into his pocket. She nodded at her former lover, thanking him for allowing her the space she needed. She wrapped the hand briefly caressed in his, in her own, clutching her fist to her chest. The two apprehensively approached the man beckoning for them to follow. His dark blue scrubs hung loosely over his body, reminding JJ of the way Spencer's clothes always seemed too big on him in his scrawny days as a young F.B.I. agent. The man smiled at her, revealing strikingly white teeth; part of her wished his mouth was still covered by the mask he had just pulled away from his ear.

The trio found their way to Sandy's room, where she laid, eyes closed, on her hospital bed. Her lips appeared almost gray, though one could argue there was still a hint of pink in the right light. Her skin had rendered itself translucent with a yellowish tint in place of the expected peach.

"Unfortunately, your mother's surgery did not go as smoothly as we had hoped. As you know, she was at risk for hemorrhaging, and although we tried our best to prevent that, she lost a lot of blood."

JJ's breath hitched, and she allowed Will to wrap his arm around her waist. His hand gripped her hip and he drew her close to him. She pushed her fist into her chest while she dug the nails of her other hand into the skin on the knuckles of the hand she held close to her.

"She needed multiple blood transfusions. Luckily we were able to stabilize her and stop the bleeding." 

Will's grip loosened, but his hand remained softly in place. 

"We were able to resect the smallest of the three metastases to her lung, but because of the bleeding, we were not able to continue with the surgery," the awkwardly skinny, surgeon finished his speech apologetically, awaiting questions from the family.

"So what does that mean?" Will's arm had returned to his own side, but he still chose to speak instead of JJ.

"We hope that the removal of the tumor will alleviate some of her discomfort, but she will continue to need supplemental oxygen. We may be able to attempt the surgery for the second time in a few weeks if her risk of bleeding can be controlled, but she will likely need to be intubated before then, which she-"

"She has expressly stated she doesn't want. I know," JJ spoke this time. Defeated. 

"I'm sorry, ma'am. You're welcome to sit with her until she wakes up, but we expect she will sleep for a few more hours," he flashed another smile, one feigning sincerity, detaining the uncomfortably bright teeth behind his thin lips. 

JJ nodded, giving the surgeon permission to turn on his heels and slip out of the room.

Again, she felt Will's hand. He pressed it softly into the small of her back. The warmth of his being caused her to pull away but she turned to him to smile with tear filled eyes, trying to appear grateful for the gesture. She wanted his support, but his touch only reminded her of the fact that her heart was already in somebody else's hands.

Will pressed his palm into his thigh, his stiff demeanor signaling to JJ that he would provide her the space she had been asking for, his eyes scanned her face eventually landing on the floor to ensure he kept his silent promise. 

She was biting the inside of her lip, her nose curled, and her eyes widened as she tried to fight the tears threatening to spill over. He wanted to reach out, to pull her tiny body into his arms and hold her tightly as she cried. Images of him standing with her face buried in his chest, hands clutching at his green flannel shirt as he rubbed circles in the red cotton clinging to her skin flashed through his head. She smelled the same. He wanted to lower his head to hers, to rest his lips against her blonde hair, to feel her body relax at his touch.

He caught her as she fell, cascading toward his body as a heap of conflicting emotions held together by a red sweater and a black scrunchie, rather than a person. She buried her face in his chest and her hands gathered his flannel shirt into tight fists in the spots in which they landed when she fell. She clamped her eyes shut when he pulled her closer to him to wrap her in a tight embrace, and when his hands rubbed comforting circles on her back, and his breath fell softly on the top of her head, she cried harder, wishing it wasn't him who was holding her so close. 

When Will's imagination became a reality he did not once think of his wife whom he had left at home in New Orleans. When he nestled his face into the hair of the woman he once lived beside he did not think of the night he walked out on her and vowed to never return. He did not consider the idea that JJ would be wishing for the same man she had loved when he decided to leave. The only thing running through his mind were the prophetic images he had conjured up in his head, and made true moments later.

All Will wanted to do was protect her.