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The morning started like any other, with the BAU team gathered around the conference room table. The scent of stale coffee lingered in the air as the newest case was laid out. A spree bomber had struck twice already in a suburban neighborhood in Baltimore, and the unsub’s pattern suggested another attack was imminent. The bombings weren’t random, but the target wasn’t clear either; the connection between the victims seemed tenuous at best. The unsub was escalating, and lives were on the line.
Emily Prentiss had been deep into strategizing when she noticed JJ’s unusually distant demeanor. JJ had been quieter than usual for weeks now, but Emily hadn’t had the chance—or maybe hadn’t made the effort—to press her on it. In hindsight, maybe that was her mistake.
By mid-afternoon, the team had identified a likely location for the suspect’s hiding place: a remote compound surrounded by forest.
The mission had gone south faster than anyone could have anticipated. What started as a straightforward raid on a suspect's remote compound had devolved into chaos. The unsub—a brilliant but unhinged chemical engineer—had rigged the entire place with explosives, all tied to a single timer. Their job had been to extract the hostages and disarm the device, but things hadn’t gone as planned.
The team had made it inside, freeing the hostages with remarkable precision, but the unsub, Grant Wilson, had activated the timer with a smirk. “If I’m going down,” he’d sneered, “you’re all coming with me.”
Emily had immediately ordered the team to retreat. “We’ll get the bomb squad in. It’s not worth the risk!”
But JJ had hesitated. She’d seen the timer, seen the intricate wiring, and knew what Spencer was about to confirm: there wasn’t enough time to wait for the bomb squad. “How long?” she’d asked sharply, cutting off Reid mid-analysis.
“Four minutes and twenty-seven seconds,” he’d said grimly, his fingers twitching at his side. “Even if we called them now, they’d never make it in time.”
Emily had caught the determined gleam in JJ’s eyes and shook her head firmly. “No. Whatever you’re thinking, no. We’re leaving. That’s an order.”
JJ had opened her mouth to argue, but Emily’s tone had brooked no room for discussion. With a clenched jaw, JJ had nodded and helped usher the hostages out to safety. But the moment they were clear, she turned back toward the building.
“JJ!” Emily’s voice was sharp, filled with a warning, but JJ didn’t stop. She darted back into the chaos without looking back, her heart pounding in her chest.
The bomb wasn’t just dangerous—it was devastating. According to Spencer’s calculations, the explosive radius would level the entire compound and a good portion of the surrounding forest. There wasn’t time to second-guess or consult anyone. It had to be her. She wasn’t the best bomb technician—hell, she wasn’t even close—but she knew enough to give it a shot. If she failed… well, that didn’t matter much anymore.
When Emily realized what JJ had done, she didn’t have time to stop herself from screaming into her comms. “JJ, get back here! That’s an order!”
But JJ didn’t respond. She was already inside, her hands trembling slightly as she worked through the wires. She focused on what she’d learned during her brief explosive training years ago, the memory of Spencer’s voice coaching her through. Red wires typically handle detonation circuits; green or blue are likely triggers; yellow may be failsafes. But it’s never universal.
The bomb was far more sophisticated than anything she’d encountered. A dizzying array of wires fed into an intricate control panel, each connection more complex than the last. JJ could feel the seconds slipping away, every tick of the timer a dagger in her chest.
“JJ, answer me!” Emily’s voice was frantic now. “Don’t you dare do this!”
Still, she said nothing. She couldn’t afford the distraction. If this didn’t work, at least she’d have bought the team enough time to get clear.
For months after her kidnapping, she’d felt like she was drowning, the darkness inside her growing heavier with each passing day. This was her chance to do something meaningful—to make her pain worth something.
Outside, Emily paced furiously. “She’s not responding. Someone get eyes on her!” Her heart pounded in her chest as she gripped the radio. “Garcia, patch me into the surveillance feed now.”
“I’m trying, boss lady, but everything’s scrambled! I can barely—wait—there!” Garcia’s voice cracked as the feed came through. JJ’s figure was on the screen, crouched over the bomb, her hands steady as she worked. Garcia let out a shaky sob. “She—she’s actually doing it.”
“Dammit, JJ!” Emily barked. “Reid, what are her chances?”
Spencer’s voice was tight, filled with tension. “Given the complexity of the device and her level of expertise… I’d estimate a 37% chance of survival. Maybe less.”
Emily froze, a cold dread seeping into her bones. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing…”
Inside, JJ’s mind was clear, eerily calm despite the storm raging around her. She knew the risks. She knew her odds. But that was the thing—she didn’t care. She hadn’t cared for months. Every sleepless night, every moment spent staring at her reflection and wondering why she was still here—it all led to this. If she could go out doing something good, saving the people she loved, it was worth it.
The timer ticked down to two minutes.
Her comm crackled to life. It was Spencer this time. “JJ, listen to me. If you’re going to do this, you need to be extremely careful. The secondary failsafe is likely connected to the blue wire, but if you cut it without stabilizing the control panel, it’ll trigger immediately.”
“Noted,” she said quietly, her first words since she’d gone back inside.
“JJ!” Emily’s voice again, sharp and pleading. “You don’t have to do this. We can find another way!”
“There isn’t another way, it will take too long for tech bomb to come here,” JJ replied, her tone steady. “You know that.”
The team was silent, her words hanging heavy in the air. She could imagine their faces—Emily’s fury and despair, Spencer’s helplessness, Rossi’s quiet resignation. They’d all lost people before. But this time, JJ had chosen to be the one they’d lose.
One minute.
She took a deep breath, her fingers hovering over the final connection. If she was wrong, it would be over in an instant. She could hear Emily’s laugh in her mind, the way she’d call her “Jayje” with pure affection. Her chest ached, but she pushed the thought away. This wasn’t about her.
The final wire snapped free, and for a heartbeat, everything froze.
Then, silence.
The timer stopped at 00:02.
JJ exhaled shakily, her legs giving out as she slumped to the ground. She’d done it.
“JJ?” Emily’s voice was a whisper now, trembling with emotion.
“It’s done,” JJ said, her voice barely audible. “You’re clear.”
Outside, the team erupted into motion, rushing back toward the compound. Emily was the first through the door, her eyes wild as she spotted JJ sitting amidst the wreckage. She stormed over, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her to her feet.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” Emily screamed, her voice breaking. “Do you realize what could have happened?! That wasn’t just reckless; that was insane! Do you have some kind of death wish?!”
JJ looked at her, her face pale but calm. “Yes.”
Emily froze. “You could have—I’m sorry, what?”
“Yes,” JJ repeated, her voice devoid of emotion. “I do. I’ve been wanting to die, trying to, for months now. I’m surprised it took you so long to notice.”
The room fell silent, the weight of her confession crashing down on everyone like a tidal wave. Emily’s anger evaporated, replaced by a suffocating sadness. She grabbed JJ’s face, forcing her to meet her eyes. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do,” JJ whispered. “But not today. Not like this.”
“JJ…” Emily began, her tone softer now, but JJ held up a hand to stop her.
“Don’t,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m not looking for pity or a lecture. I made my choice, Emily. And if it means saving the rest of you, then it’s worth it.”
Emily shook her head, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the desk. “No. That’s not how this works. We don’t sacrifice ourselves for the job. We’re a team, JJ. We protect each other.”
“Exactly,” JJ said, her eyes glinting with an intensity that made Emily’s breath catch. “And that’s what I did. I protected the team.”
Emily exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding and started to pace the room, her mind racing as she tried to process JJ’s confession. “When did this start?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
JJ shrugged, her nonchalance a stark contrast to the weight of her words. “It doesn’t matter. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“But you don’t want to be,” Emily shot back, her frustration bubbling to the surface again. “That matters, JJ. It matters to me. To all of us.”
For the first time, JJ’s composure faltered. Her lip quivered, and she looked away, her hands gripping the arms of her chair tightly. “I didn’t want to be a burden,” she admitted quietly. “You all have enough to deal with without adding me to the list.”
“You’re not a burden,” Emily said firmly, kneeling beside JJ so their eyes were level. “You’re family. And family doesn’t give up on each other. Ever.”
Emily stayed kneeling in front of JJ, her eyes locked onto hers. The weight of JJ’s confession lingered heavily in the air, but Emily wasn’t ready to let this end here. She needed answers—needed to understand the depth of what JJ was going through.
“JJ,” Emily said softly, her voice steady but filled with urgency. “Have you... have you done anything to make that happen? What you said about wanting to die?”
JJ’s eyes flickered with something—fear, guilt, maybe both. But she shook her head quickly, the denial coming too fast, too rehearsed. “No,” she said, her voice tight. “I haven’t. I mean, I thought about it, but I didn’t—”
Emily narrowed her eyes, her profiler instincts kicking in. She knew JJ better than JJ realized, knew when she was lying—even if JJ had convinced herself otherwise. "Don’t lie to me," Emily said softly but firmly. "I know you, JJ. I know when you’re hiding something. Please, just tell me the truth."
JJ’s jaw tightened, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "I said no," she snapped, but there was a crack in her voice, a tremor that betrayed her. She turned her head away, avoiding Emily’s piercing gaze.
Emily reached out, her fingers gentle but insistent as they tilted JJ’s chin back toward her. "JJ, look at me," she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Tell me the truth."
JJ’s lips parted as though she wanted to argue, but the fight drained out of her. Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I’ve… I’ve been cutting," she admitted in a whisper, the words tumbling out like a confession. "For a while now."
Emily’s breath caught in her throat, the confession hitting her like a punch to the gut. “How long?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
JJ bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes. “Since the kidnapping,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t mean for it to become… what it is. At first, it was just… a way to feel something other than—” She stopped, shaking her head as if she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.
Emily felt a lump rise in her throat, her own tears threatening to spill. She reached out, gently taking JJ’s hands in hers. Her fingers brushed over the edge of JJ’s sleeve, and she noticed how JJ flinched, instinctively pulling back.
“Let me see,” Emily said softly but firmly.
JJ froze, her eyes wide. “Emily—no, I—”
“JJ,” Emily interrupted again, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Please.”
JJ hesitated, then reluctantly rolled up her sleeve, revealing faint scars and fresh cuts along her forearm. Emily’s breath caught, her fingers hovering over the marks but not quite touching them. The sight made her chest tighten with a mix of sorrow and anger—not at JJ, but at herself for not noticing sooner.
“Oh, JJ…” Emily’s voice cracked, and she reached out, her fingers brushing over JJ’s arm gently. “Why didn’t you tell me? Tell anyone?”
JJ pulled her arm back, her posture defensive. “What was I supposed to say?” she asked, her voice trembling. “That I can’t stop thinking about how much easier it would be if I weren’t here? That I don’t know how to live with what happened to me? Everyone expects me to just… move on. But I can’t, Emily. I can’t.” JJ said, her voice breaking.
"I don’t want you to look at me like this. Like I’m weak or broken or… or pathetic. I thought I could handle it on my own. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t."
Emily reached out, her hand closing gently over JJ’s. "You’re not weak," she said fiercely. "And you’re not broken. You survived something unimaginable, JJ. And I’m so sorry you’ve been carrying this alone. But you don’t have to anymore. I’m here for you. Please, let me help you."
JJ shook her head, her tears falling freely now. “You don’t understand. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’ve been trying to protect everyone else for so long that I don’t know how to let anyone protect me.”
Emily moved closer, cupping JJ’s face in her hands. “Then let me show you how,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know you don’t see it right now, but you are so loved, JJ. By all of us. By me.” Her voice caught on the last words, but she pushed through. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to fall apart. Just let us catch you.”
JJ’s eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, she let herself lean into Emily’s touch, drawing strength from the connection. "Why do you care so much?" she whispered, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "Why are you always the one who notices when I’m falling apart?"
Emily hesitated, her mind racing. She wanted to say so much—that JJ mattered to her in ways she couldn’t put into words, that she cared about her more deeply than she should, that losing JJ would break her in a way she might never recover from. But she couldn’t find the words, not now. So instead, she settled for the truth she could manage.
"Because I see you," Emily said softly, her eyes locked with JJ’s. "Because you’re important to me, JJ. More than you know."
JJ’s breath hitched, and for a fleeting moment, something passed between them—an unspoken understanding, a connection that went beyond friendship but wasn’t ready to be named. JJ looked up, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. For the first time in months, she let herself be seen—truly seen.
“Emily…” JJ started, but the words caught in her throat. She wasn’t ready to say it. Not yet.
Emily’s gaze softened, and she nodded as if understanding the unspoken. “It’s okay,” she said gently.
"I don’t know how to stop," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t even know if I want to."
Emily didn’t hesitate. She reached up, gently cupping JJ’s face and wiping away the tear with her thumb. “You start by letting us in. By letting me in.” Her voice softened, filled with a depth of emotion she hadn’t allowed herself to express before. “You don’t have to do this alone, JJ. Not anymore.”
JJ swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. "Okay," she murmured after a long pause. "Okay."
Emily nodded, relief washing over her. She knew this was only the beginning, that there was a long, difficult road ahead. But for now, JJ had let her in, had let someone see her pain, and that was a start. “Good,” she said softly. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Jayje. Ever.”
JJ managed a small, shaky smile. “Thank you.”
The moment stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Emily wanted to say so much more—to tell JJ how much she meant to her, how the thought of losing her had nearly undone her. But the words caught in her throat, tangled with feelings she couldn’t quite name. Instead, she tightened her grip on JJ’s hand, letting her actions speak louder.
JJ noticed the subtle shift, the way Emily’s hand lingered, the intensity in her eyes. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt something… more between them. But now wasn’t the time to unpack it.
“Emily,” JJ said softly, her voice steady despite the chaos inside her. “I’ll try. I promise. But you have to promise me something too.”
“Anything,” Emily said without hesitation.
“Don’t treat me like I’m broken. I don’t need you to fix me. I just need you to be here.”
Emily nodded, her thumb brushing against the back of JJ’s hand. “I can do that. As long as you’re still here, I’ll always be here for you. Whatever happens.”
It wasn’t a declaration of love—at least not in words. But in the way Emily’s hands cradled JJ’s face, in the way her voice softened just for her, and in the way JJ leaned into her touch as though it were the only thing keeping her grounded, it was enough.
For now.