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JJ loved Elle’s skin.
She had since the moment they had met. The list of accomplishments in Elle’s file had left her expecting someone stern, yet in walked a glowing brunette with sunkissed skin and soft lines where she smiled. And freckles - more than JJ could count that decorated her cheeks and slid down her neck, dripping onto her shoulders in star like clusters.
Now, as they laid in bed, JJ’s fingers ghosted across one of Elle’s shoulders, left bare beneath her touch. The gentle feeling of JJ’s hands across her back had a wonderful way of unwinding Elle after the stress she endured; yet tried so hard to ignore.
Of course, JJ couldn’t ignore it like Elle could. On the worst nights, she’d try to get Elle to talk about it, while on nights like this they’d lie in bed wrapped up in each other and a blissful silence.
JJ’s fingers traced their way down the slope of Elle’s spine, expectant as they rolled over the raised scar that slid across her back. It was diagonal, smooth around the edges, but JJ had a suspicion it hadn’t always been that way.
The scars on Elle’s skin were a map of their own; she had many, and JJ had memorized most of them. Still, she had no idea where they came from. It was something about the silence, the ease she had seen in Elle that night, that finally allowed her to ask.
“What’s this from?” She whispered into the dark. They didn’t need the lights on; Elle was a map well held, one her fingers could travel with ease.
“Hmmm,” Elle contemplated, her voice soft. “Promise not to laugh at me?”
“Why would I?”
“Because I got it jumping a fence at sixteen. My shirt got caught, ripped straight down the back.” Elle laughed softly. “Such a bummer, it was one of my favorites too.”
“Well, I guess I am a bit disappointed that every scar you have isn’t from a badass field injury,” JJ quipped. “But I won’t laugh, unless you were jumping that fence because you were on the run from an angry rabbit.”
“More like the police.”
“Elle!”
“Hey, just because I’m an agent now doesn’t mean I was immune from being a teenager. And, it’s not like they ever caught me.”
“Do I even want to know what you were doing?”
“The bridge was already covered in spray paint, so my addition wasn’t even that big of a deal.”
JJ let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m glad to know you’ve always been a handful.”
“It’s in my nature.” Elle mumbled, rolling to face JJ. She propped her head up against her hand, smiling. “But you love me anyway.”
JJ readjusted to wrap her arm back around Elle. Her fingers trailed back up Elle's back, stopping on the thin scar that wrapped around the side of Elle’s ribcage like a ribbon.
“And what were you running from when you got this old thing?”
“A bullet, back when I was in Seattle.” JJ cringed at the statement, the thought of a bullet piercing Elle’s skin, the blood that would have come rushing, was unwelcome to say the least.
Elle caught the pained expression that whittled it’s way onto JJ’s face, and couldn’t help but soften at her concern.
“It was only a graze.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.” JJ mumbled as she ran her fingers across the length of the scar.
“Tell me this one isn’t from a bullet,” JJ changed the subject as she rested her hand against Elle’s thigh, circling her finger across the scar there.
“That’s when I got stabbed.”
“Not funny, Elle.”
“I’m not joking.” Elle said. “It was in my first few years with the bureau. Our unsub was playing dead when we entered the room. I knelt down to check his pulse, next thing I knew there was a knife sticking out of my leg.”
JJ shook her head. “I was kidding when I said I was disappointed all your scars weren’t field injuries.”
“Are my stories not as exciting as you thought they’d be? I really don’t know how to be more exciting than being stabbed.” Elle mused, “Perhaps I’ll have to brainstorm next time I’m in the field.”
“Don’t you dare.” JJ waved a finger at Elle’s face, though she was smiling. “It just makes them worse, that’s all.”
“You’d rather I be running from the police?”
“I’d rather you got it doing something stupid yourself. But when you had no choice, when other people did it to you…” JJ trailed off, the thought of someone seeing Elle and wanting only to hurt her another she didn’t care to dwell on. Unfortunately, given Elle’s job, it was one she was adequately familiar with. “I guess I can hardly stand it.”
“Well,” Elle sidetracked, guiding JJ’s hand to the scar just above her knee. “This one is from me doing something stupid.”
Elle knew fully well how deeply JJ worried for her, as she spent most of her working days in the field. She wanted to try to keep JJ as far from that worry as she could outside of the bureau's walls.
An embarrassing story about her falling off her bike might just do it.
“How stupid?” JJ questioned with a laugh as her fingers roamed Elle’s skin. At least with this scar, JJ could not picture a knife piercing the delicate skin; the shape was all wrong.
“Stupid enough to ride down a hill after I had just learned how to ride a bike.” Elle nearly shuddered at the memories that came attached to the wheels of a bike, but JJ’s touch kept her grounded.
Elle was used to being good at things. So, when she couldn’t ride her bike within the first few tries, she got angry, kicking at the sparkling blue wheels and telling her father she hated him because he couldn’t stay to teach her.
Then, he died, and Elle never wanted to ride her bike again.
But she did, which is exactly how she made it all the way down the hill before she fell from the bike, rolling across a patch of gravel and crying with bleeding knees and a mother who refused to help clean them.
Broken skin healed wondrously messy when all you did was sit and look at it.
“Roadburn,” JJ mused, unaware of the dark track Elle’s thoughts had taken. She, after all, couldn’t know what Elle had never told her. “It’s fitting for you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Of course it is,” JJ placed a kiss against Elle’s jaw as she said it. “I don't know many women who could effortlessly pull off bleeding knees.”
Elle laughed a little, nuzzling her cheek against JJ’s mouth. “I guess you’re right.”
JJ brought her fingers to Elle’s arm next, seeking the scar on her inner elbow; a similar texture to the one on her knee. “Is this from your bike too?”
“No, It’s from standing too close to my mom as she pulled a hot pan out of the oven.”
JJ winced, nodding as she brushed her fingers across it. It was a relief to Elle when JJ’s fingers drifted downwards rather than upwards; she’d thought enough about her mother for the night.
“And this one?” A thin scar across Elle’s palm, one that had healed surprisingly well. It was hardly noticeable unless you were holding her hand. Which, in all fairness, JJ did a lot.
“Would you believe me if I told you I used to be quite clumsy?”
“I’d believe it now when you’re drunk.” JJ’s tone was laced with amusement.
“I guess you have a point.” Elle grinned, “I was drunk when I got this one.”
JJ sighed drastically, bringing Elle’s hand closer to her face. “And just what were you trying to do? You can’t be so risky, your hands are too nice to be ruined.”
“I dropped a glass.”
JJ had began to weave and unweave their fingers together, the action like a game. “That’s it?”
“And then I picked up the pieces. I grabbed one the wrong way.” Elle had hardly even noticed at the time, too busy feeling warm and weightless to notice the blood that was dripping onto her friend's floor.
“Hm,” JJ speculated, running her hand over Elle's palm again. “I guess it’s a good thing you have better supervision now.”
“Ah, you’d never let me get so drunk that I’d drop a glass.”
“It’s a wonder I let you get drunk at all.”
JJ grinned as her fingers danced back up Elle’s arm, following the veins visible through her forearm, stopping to spin along every freckle she could squint out in the dark. They came to a stop at the top of Elle’s shoulder.
She didn’t miss the way Elle tensed beneath her touch. Clearly, not every scar was a story Elle was at ease with.
“You don’t have to tell me about it.” JJ said, pulling her fingers away from the scar, curving them around Elle’s shoulder instead. They trailed their way down to where Elle’s shoulder blade jutted out.
Sometimes it was like her bones were bursting, eager to break away from her skin. The sharp edge of her shoulder blade, fine points of her collar bone, notches along her spine, even the rounded edges of her wrists.
Bursting from or for what exactly, JJ hadn’t yet decided.
“No,” Elle mumbled. “I will. I’ve just never told anyone about it before.”
“You have scars from bullets and knives, darling. If this is something worse than that, I think I’ll have to make sure you never leave this room again.”
“Well, that would be lovely.” Elle paused, contemplating. “My dad always said I got my anger from my mom.”
Elle’s anger was quick, a spark that was lit and burned bright enough to blind everyone around her, then diminished and left her tired.
Her mothers anger did not have the miracle of being quick. But it burned just as bright, and often left Elle burned.
“She threw a plate at me.”
“I’m sorry?” JJ wanted to believe she hadn’t heard her quite right.
“I could never meet her expectations after my dad died.”
“So she threw things at you?”
“Well, she was aiming for the wall behind me. But it shattered and one of the pieces caught me on my arm.” Elle shrugged, thinking back to her mothers blank stare as blood ran freely down her arm, dripping onto the shattered porcelain around her feet.
‘Go clean yourself up’ she hissed, and Elle had.
“I’m so…Gosh Elle, why didn’t you tell me?”
JJ had known Elle’s relationship with her mother was unfavorable. She always picked up on the way Elle talked more about the memories than the woman herself. Her mother was much a ghost, lingering in the background of discussions about making Cuban food, learning traditional dances.
There, but never in focus.
“I guess I didn’t want you to think badly of her.”
“She threw a plate at you.”
“Among other things.” Elle tilted her head to the side. “But, I did bring home a B on that test.”
JJ sighed, gathering Elle closer to her than she had been already and pressing a kiss to her nose. “You could have told me.”
“You just worry so much.” Elle mumbled against JJ’s cheek. “I didn’t want you worrying any more.”
“I’m your girlfriend, it's my job to worry.” JJ moved her fingers away from Elle’s skin, running them instead through Elle's hair. “Maybe I should be more prepared next time I ask you about your scars.”
“You did only ask about the left side.” Elle said, her lashes fluttering against JJ’s skin as she winked. She was lying on her right side.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” JJ pushed at Elle’s head gently, causing her to lift it. “I know it’s not easy for you to open up to people. But whatever happens between us, I promise I’ll never use anything you tell me against you.”
“I know.” Elle smiled, moving to kiss JJ gently, their eyes locking. “I really, really do.”
JJ took in her face, before tracing her thumb across the still healing wound on Elle's cheek. She had gotten it around a week ago, when she was held hostage on a train and JJ's stomach was in knots.
JJ wondered if it would become another scar, another story laced with hurt.
"I understand, you take your time opening up." JJ's thumb continued to trace along Elle's cheek, moving in a figure eight. "I only wish you could be so thoughtful about your decisions in the field.”
Elle grinned, her eyes dancing with annoyance and fondness in the dark. She thought for a moment. “I’m not the only one with scars, am I?”
“Mine are on a much lesser scale.”
Elle hummed in response, gently bringing her hand to the scar that ran up the right side of JJ’s forearm.
Elle was also not the only one who could be navigated in the dark.
Unlike JJ, Elle had not been surprised by the woman she met. She had expected a sparkling blue eyed blond with pencil skirts and arms full of files to be handed out. However, the lack of surprise didn’t lessen Elle’s admiration by any means; she always liked to know exactly what she was getting herself into.
Of course, if someone had told her that in just a few months she’d lie entangled with the very blonde she profiled, hands wandering across her to pinpoint every scar, she’d have scoffed.
“This seems pretty big for a lesser scale. Don’t tell me, it’s a lie you grew up on a farm! Really, your parents bred rare tigers in the backyard, and you got this the first time one of them acted up.”
JJ nearly laughed at Elle’s story. For someone so serious in the office, she could be maddeningly creative.
“You should know I’d have lions in my backyard over tigers any day.”
“Well, maybe if you had tigers they wouldn’t have acted up.”
“Don’t you think it would be deeper if I was really attacked by a wild cat?” Elle ran her fingers across JJ’s forearm at her question, shrugging.
“Maybe, but you’re full of surprises.”
“Unfortunately, a backyard full of tigers isn’t one of them.” JJ smiled despite herself. “I got it falling out of a tree.”
Elle let out an exaggerated gasp. “The Jennifer Jareau, doing something reckless?”
“To my credit, I haven’t climbed a tree since then.”
“That’s blasphemous,” Elle scolded. “But I guess we have time to fix that.”
“Don’t go getting any ideas; There’s no reason for me to be that high off the ground again.” Elle continued to rub her fingers across the tight skin on JJ’s forearm. “Besides, I’m lucky I got away with just this. The branch I sat on broke right under me.”
Elle winced in sympathy. “Well, next time you go climbing trees, I’ll be sure to test all the branches before you sit down.”
JJ pouted against the idea of there being a next time while Elle’s hands trailed along, coming to rest at the scar just above JJ’s hip. “And this?”
“Now you have to promise not to laugh at me.”
“It's that bad?"
“If you laugh, I’ll tell Hotch his new golden agent spent her teenage years running from the police.”
“And just how did you figure that out? By lying in bed with her, rubbing her back and asking for stories behind all her scars. I’m sure he’d definitely approve of that.”
JJ sighed. As hopelessly infatuated with each other as they were, it was something that had to stay their secret.
“Just promise me you won’t laugh.”
“I promise.”
“I was in the middle of getting ready for a dance in high school, and I was so excited I was practically skipping around my room. I was still in the process of getting dressed when I bumped into my desk.”
“Ouch.” Elle empathized.
“Even more of an ouch when I bumped my hip right into the curling iron that was heating up, after being smart enough to leave it propped up there.”
A hiss passed through Elle’s teeth, and she nodded sympathetically.
“I don’t know why you thought I’d laugh at that.”
“Well, it wasn’t my brightest moment.”
“True, but I don’t like thinking about you in pain.” Elle shrugged, and JJ softened at her words. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get sappy.”
JJ grinned. “After my whole rant about hating your scars from the field? I’d say that’s pretty tame.”
“Fair point.”
Elle’s hands gently reached for JJ’s, coming to rest on the scar that wrapped around her pinky finger. JJ drew a deep breath as Elle’s fingers found their target. It was hardly her favorite to talk about, but Elle’s earlier transparency had left her with some things to get off her chest.
Hearing the slight hitch in JJ’s breathing, Elle dropped her hands, as though she hadn’t been searching for it at all.
“It’s okay,” JJ began. “I want to talk about it.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive.” A beat of silence passed as she found the right words.
“Roslyn used to wear this ridiculously big ring. I’d make fun of her for it all the time. It was this giant pink heart surrounded by little spikes. I thought it was stupid, but she had seen it in magazines and was convinced it was the most fashionable item ever made.”
“It sounds very fashionable.” Elle moved to grab JJ’s hand again at the mention of Roslyn’s name. She gave a gentle squeeze.
“Fashionable or not, it hurt. I don’t even remember what we were arguing over, but I was trying to grab something from her hand. She turned her fingers just right, and next thing I knew my finger was bleeding. It looked a lot worse than it was. I bawled like a baby, of course, And she was so scared of how much trouble she was going to get in with our mom.”
“How bad was it?” While Elle doubted punishments from JJ’s mom would extend to plates being thrown, she knew the woman could be cruel, something that had only grown worse since Roslyn’s death.
“We never told her. Roslyn helped me clean it up, and I stayed silent in exchange for her to give me whatever we were fighting over. And, I told her she could never wear such a horrible ring again.”
“Sounds like a fair arrangement.”
“Yeah,” JJ smiled, eyes distant as she thought back to her sister. Really, the ring hadn’t been that ugly. JJ would give almost anything to have that ring now, another thing to remember Roslyn by.
She'd give even more than anything to have more time with her sister, a proper goodbye.
“I used to hate that I had a scar from it, I’d bring it up whenever we fought. But it’s grown on me, it’s just another piece of her I guess.”
“I think it can be beautiful to bare a scar from someone you love.” Elle stated, her eyes just visible under the curl of her lashes.
“Wow, you are feeling sappy tonight.”
“I don't have to be sappy to be sure she’s really proud of you. Wherever she is, she gets to brag about having the most kickass liaison as her sister."
“Yeah,” JJ agreed. “I think so too.”
“Hmmmm…” Elle’s fingers ran up the curve of JJ’s wrist, before pausing. “Maybe you were right about not having many scars. I can’t remember any others.”
“Did you really think I’d have as many?”
“As me? Of course not, you’re not nearly so damaged.” Elle’s tone carried a hint of amusement, but JJ shook her head.
“Hey now, none of that. I for one, happen to love every single one you’ve got. They’re your own storybook, little pages of who you are.”
“Now who's being sappy?”
“You know you love me for it.” JJ responded, placing a kiss along Elle’s forehead and wrapping an arm around her waist.
Elle reciprocated by placing her own kiss against JJ's forehead. She could feel sleep calling her name.
"You know, you forgot the scar on my ankle.”
“Must be my exhaustion.” Elle mumbled, the grin she was trying to force giving way to a yawn, proving her point. “What’s it from?”
“That’s a story for tomorrow. I think you’re ready for bed.”
Elle grumbled a complaint, all while burying her face in the crook of JJ’s neck. JJ pulled her closer, patting the top of her head. She wasn't much for complaining about Elle being clingy, especially after nearly losing her on the train.
It was an incident that certainly hadn’t helped Elle sleep with ease; but JJ made it easier. She made a lot of things easier.
“Goodnight, mariposa.” Elle whispered into JJ, wrapping her arms tightly around the other woman.
“Goodnight, my love.”
JJ relaxed deeper into the mattress. Only when she was sure Elle was asleep did she gently run her finger across the scar on Elle’s shoulder, placing a kiss into Elle's hairline as she did so.
Then, JJ ran a gentle finger down the slope of Elle’s nose, relaxing the tension that lingered on Elle's face. JJ rested her head on top of her girlfriends, breathing in lavender shampoo as she closed her eyes.
There wasn’t much either of them could do about the stories and scars that littered their skin. But, having someone to run fingers across them, drink them in with open ears and soft touches, was a fine start to the healing that lied beyond ones skin.