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Stacks upon stacks of folders sat on JJ's desk and sprawled all around every surface of her office— it was usually a mess, but it rarely ever became that bad. She tried what she could to organize them by making different piles for different cases. One was for cases to consult on, another to consider presenting to the team for solving on location, and a larger pile for cases she hadn't looked at yet. That one she'd struggled to make a dent in all day long.
Of course, the biggest pile was for rejections. The cases the BAU wouldn't even get to look at. JJ didn't like to think too much about those, but she couldn't help it. They were constantly on her mind. She wished they could take them all, but the unit was too small and too overloaded between bigger cases they all worked together and consulting. They couldn't take on more than they already did.
Luckily, none of the cases so far seemed super urgent. Often, local police departments didn't wait long enough to determine if they'd actually need the BAU involved before faxing their case files over to JJ. That meant everything she'd reviewed could be either consulted on from Quantico or didn't even need their involvement. That was honestly the best case scenario for her, because if something urgent came up, they could handle it right away and she wouldn't get caught debating which case they should go solve and which should be sidelined.
Three more case files to go until she reached the bottom of the pile for the day. She'd get through them, hopefully not have to present anything to the team, and then keep distributing consulting cases to them throughout their shift, and it would be so nice and easy. It was honestly the most relaxed she could be in her position despite the insane workload she often ended up with.
Still, she worked at the BAU, so any sort of relaxation couldn't last long. She picked up that third to last folder, opened it up, and her heart sank further and further with every bit of information she took in.
The case was unfolding in Adairsville, Georgia. A smaller suburb, an hour or so away from Atlanta in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. So far, there were five victims across two different attacks. The victims of the first attack were a mother and father. They'd lost a child around a year ago according to some of the information the Sheriff's office collected on them, and now their living child, a fourteen year old boy, was missing, presumed to have escaped the attack and hidden away. They were strangled with noticeable ligature marks and bruising around their necks as if they were hung.
The second attack was on a similar family. They'd also lost a child recently, but their living child didn't get the chance to escape. There wasn't an autopsy quite yet, but judging from the photos, they were stabbed— No, wait. JJ took a closer look at the photos and chill ran down her spine.
Cut. Not stabbed, cut. They bled to death from cuts on their wrists. They also had noticeable ligature marks. They were restrained. The unsub had them die slowly, bleeding to death.
JJ felt a pit forming in her stomach, with a wave of nausea rising up from deep inside it. These families were like hers. They were suffering a profound loss, only to end up losing everything for a reason they couldn't understand, and, at the moment, neither could JJ. The MO's were different. It didn't make sense, but she knew from that sickening feeling in her gut that these attacks had to be connected. The victimology seemed similar enough, she just couldn't quite place it. Maybe it would make sense to the profilers on the team?
She quickly took the folder and got up from her desk, pulling down the handle and opening the door, only to find Hotch already standing on the other side.
"Just who I was looking for," she said to him, opening up the file to start to explain, but he didn't even give her a chance to.
"I'm sorry, JJ, we don't have time," he attempted to hand her another file, "This case just came directly to me. I need your help presenting it to the team."
"What?" she asked, taking a small step back, pointing down at the file she was holding, "But this case—"
"JJ," said Hotch, his eyes locked intensely on hers as she glanced down at the file in his hands.
She conceded, reaching for Hotch's file and taking it from him, placing it above her file. "Give me a few minutes to read it over."
"Of course," he said, pausing to watch as JJ took a deep breath in, "Thank you."
JJ gave him a small nod with a smile that she hoped didn't look as insincere as it felt before he walked away.
She did what she was told, of course. Hotch was right, his case was insanely urgent. No wonder it came straight to him rather than through her. In fact, it was actually laughable how much more urgent this case was than the one that was making her sick to her stomach.
This case took place in a small town in central Florida. Where else would a terrible case take place? This unsub seemed to be making about three to five people disappear nightly. Sometimes these groups of people were families, other times, seemingly unrelated people. This had been going on almost a week at this point and their police department only just sought out the BAU's help. That was way too much of a body count. It was actually absurd. What were they thinking?
JJ had to stop herself from passing judgment on how they handled that. Especially when she knew she probably only was because she would rather be handling the other case. She cast all of those feelings aside, presented the case with Hotch, and then had twenty minutes before they were leaving for Florida.
There was no time to waste before heading to the airport, so JJ quickly went to her office to grab her go bag, only to see the Georgia case sitting right where she left it on the center of her desk. She knew she had to leave it and focus on the new case— but she was overcome with the need to do something. Impulsively, she opened it up and dialed the number listed as the Sheriff's.
"Hello, is this Sheriff Brown?" she asked. As soon as she got confirmation on the other end, she continued, "This is SSA Jennifer Jareau from the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We have another case right now, but I reviewed your case and I'll hand it off to someone in the team as soon as I can. Keep me updated on it so I can present the information as accurately as possible to one of the profilers soon."
Really, that wasn't her job. She could just get the most updated file from Penelope when they got back; yet, when she hung the phone up, she shoved the case file into her go bag. Someone had to be on that case, and maybe that person had to be JJ even if she wasn't a profiler and couldn't work it.
Once they were in Florida, JJ sat at the table in the conference room with the rest of the team, trying what she could to focus on what the others were talking about, but she couldn't get the other case off her mind. She kept checking her phone, trying to see if there was any message or missed call from the sheriff at all. What could be going on over there? She could only hope there weren't many families left that fit the victimology, but surely there were. It was a suburb of Atlanta. There were enough people there and in surrounding towns for there to be.
"JJ," Hotch caught her attention, and she looked up from the table to see both Hotch and Emily looking at her. Emily looked confused, but Hotch knew she had something else on her mind. He seemed angry with her. At least she thought so. Just slightly. Clearly they'd been trying to say something to her.
"Sorry," said JJ, "Can you repeat that?"
Emily glanced at Hotch, eyes still wide with confusion when she looked back at JJ. "Uh, we're thinking we should get his description out to the media. Is there time for that?"
She looked at her phone, noting the time. 7:23 PM. "Yeah, I can get it on the 10 o'clock news."
"Good," said Hotch.
JJ looked at him, trying to convey with her eyes that she felt bad about being so out of it, but Hotch looked away before she could even try to read if he understood her. Emily lingered on her though.
That was concerning, because their hotel room situation wasn't ideal if Emily was going to be worried about her. When they checked in, there were too few rooms available, so they had to double up. JJ would much rather be alone so she could have space to get any updates about the case and feel what she had to feel without eyes on her. Though, she did have to take solace in the eyes on her being Emily's than anyone else's. She wouldn't judge her if she was distracted.
She'd rather her not notice anything, but that was too much to ask for. As she walked out of the bathroom after showering, Emily caught JJ closing the file and shoving it back in her bag beside her bed.
"Hey, what's going on with you?" asked Emily, sitting down on her own bed, facing JJ.
"Nothing," said JJ, checking her phone again before looking at her.
"Clearly not nothing," said Emily, "You didn't seem like yourself today."
"Nothing out of the ordinary," JJ added, smiling and hoping her answer would satisfy Emily, "There was another case that I had to sideline to come here, but that happens all the time. I can't get too wrapped up in that."
"So that file is…" Emily trailed off, gesturing at JJ's unzipped bag.
"Our current one," JJ lied through her teeth.
Emily raised an eyebrow at her, but seemed to back off from it. "Okay, well, you have to get some sleep. I know you've got a lot to worry about, but you need to. We'll catch this guy."
JJ nodded as Emily turned her light off. JJ turned hers off too and laid down, but she didn't even close her eyes. She set her cell phone to vibrate and hoped she'd get an update soon.
It took an hour of tossing and turning for her to get a text from the sheriff in Georgia. He said there was an update and she should call him as soon as possible, which probably implied that she should call in the morning, but she couldn't wait. She needed to call right that second.
JJ got up out of bed, walked to the bathroom, and as quietly as possible shut the door behind her before calling the sheriff.
"Agent Jareau," he sounded surprised, "I didn't think you'd get back to me so soon. It's so late."
"I was available," she mostly lied. Sure, technically she was, but was having Emily asleep on the other side of this door something that would really make her available? "What updates do you have?"
"Unfortunately, another attack," he told her, "We weren't sure if it was one at first, but it seems like it is."
"You weren't sure?" she asked, "What made it hard to tell?"
"They were all just dead," he explained, "Parents and their kid. Nothing but marks on their wrists and ankles. We had to wait for a medical examiner to tell us what was going on." They waited to tell her? Why the hell would they do that? How many hours was this attack known of without her eyes on it? Ugh. It was too late to get caught up in any of that now.
"What was it?" she asked, trying her best not to sound exasperated.
"They OD'd," he said, and JJ's blood turned to ice.
That pit in her stomach was back, except at that point it was beginning to feel more like a black hole that would swallow her from the inside out. Hanging, cutting, overdosing— all of those were common ways people take their own lives. The MO's hadn't been different at all. The unsub had been sloppily staging suicides the entire time. But why?
"Have you got anything else?" JJ asked him.
"Not anything that would be important," the sheriff replied, "We still haven't found the first couple's son. We did learn that their eldest son that died a few years back seemed to have committed suicide."
The black hole entirely consumed JJ. Still, she had to push through. She took a very shaky and deep breath. She couldn't directly tell him what she thought, could she? That wasn't her job. But, God, she needed to.
"Can you find out if these victims also lost a child to suicide?" she asked, trying to sound as steady as possible.
"Do you think that could be why this is happening to them?" he asked.
She wanted to say yes more than anything, but she wasn't a profiler. She couldn't do that.
"I think it's a possibility," said JJ, "Do what you can to locate the missing son too. He's alive. We don't know if the unsub still sees him as a target."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, "We'll keep you posted."
"Thank you," said JJ, "And I promise I'll have a profiler on this as soon as I can."
"You know, I'm not too worried about that. You're doing a great job on your own," said the sheriff, "Have a good night, Agent Jareau."
"You too," she replied before he hung up. She probably should have thanked him.
JJ took a couple of steps back, leaning on the wall and letting herself slide down it onto the floor. She turned her head to her left, staring the empty bathtub.
No sinking feeling would ever come close to the one she felt that day. It didn't matter how awful things became. Nothing would ever be as terrible as finding her sister dead. The thought of these kids and their parents having to endure that only to have their lives taken from them? Not even having the chance to heal and move past it… There was nothing fair about it, no matter how much it felt sometimes when she was younger that maybe, just maybe, it would be better to not have to live and endure that pain—
Oh no.
The missing boy. It had to be him. He was an Angel of Death. He was, in his mind, putting those families out of their misery, including his own.
She picked her cell phone back up, trying to call the sheriff back to no avail. He must have gone home. That forced her to take a moment to think everything over. Was JJ even allowed to come to a conclusion like that and share it without going through a profiler? Did it matter if it was truly life or death? Would the consequences if she was wrong be as serious as the ones that would come if she was right and didn't say anything?
She quickly typed out a text before she could change her mind again.
Possibly the missing boy. Prioritize him.
After hitting send, JJ placed her phone on the floor and pulled her knees into her chest. She wanted more than anything to cry, but she couldn't. No tears would come, so she just sat like that for a few minutes, unmoving.
It wasn't until there was a knock on the bathroom door that she looked back up.
"JJ?" she heard Emily's voice on the other side, "Are you okay? You've been in there a while."
Of course Emily was awake. JJ knew from sharing rooms with her before that she was a light sleeper. Not that anyone in the BAU wouldn't be.
"I'm fine," JJ replied, "You can go back to sleep."
Emily took a beat before responding. "Okay." She sounded like she didn't believe JJ, but she seemed like she wasn't going to press her about it.
After that, JJ took another five minutes before she decided to go back to bed. She obviously needed to be well rested if she was going to work two cases after all. Maybe she should have told Emily to help her, but it was probably for the best not to split her attention too.
To her dismay, it took them another two days to catch their unsub in Florida. Those two days also came and went with no updates from the sheriff in Georgia. They were flying back in the afternoon with the sun barely starting to set, so maybe there was still hope for any sort of update?
"Hey," JJ heard Emily's voice beside her and she turned her head from the window to see Emily standing in the aisle, "You sure everything's okay?"
JJ nodded and smiled at her. "I am."
Emily gave her a soft smile back before sitting down across from her. JJ shifted in her seat and looked down at the table, and Emily clearly didn't miss what that meant.
"Look, I know you probably wanted to be left alone, but I just wanted to tell you one thing," she said, "Can I?"
"Yes," said JJ, still avoiding her gaze. She could picture exactly how Emily was looking at her— like she knew something was wrong with her. Like she pitied her. It was how everyone kept looking at her over the last couple of days. She even preferred Hotch's disapproving glares over everyone one else's sad eyes at her.
"Your job is so hard and I don't even know how you do it," Emily began, "Still, you do your job, and you do it well with this unwavering strength."
JJ actually looked up at her, letting her eyes meet Emily's. She didn't get pity from her gaze. It was purely a look of admiration.
"I know if I had to cast aside a case to work on a different one, I'd be so torn up about it," Emily continued, "I wouldn't be able to push it from my mind— or even work the actual case we were working on. But you did."
"I feel like I didn't," said JJ with a dry chuckle. In fact, she knew that she didn't. She'd never been so out of it with a case her entire time with the BAU.
"You did your job," said Emily, "You controlled the media exactly how we needed and you know how important that is. We wouldn't have caught the guy without you. Don't beat yourself up because you were a little distracted during discussions."
"A little?" JJ scoffed, still making an attempt to play the entire situation off with laughter. It was coming out a lot dryer than she intended, though.
"Just a little," Emily replied with a nod, "And that's okay. You helped a lot. Some discussions don't even pertain to your part of the job, and you're still there, contributing everything you can. So you do see what I mean about you, right? That you're amazing at this? All of it?"
A genuine smile finally appeared on JJ's face as she nodded. "Thanks, Emily."
Emily smiled back at her, pleased to have noticeably gotten the compliment through to her. She got up from the seat across from her and stood beside where she was sitting before walking down the aisle.
"You know, If that case is still there, maybe you can update the file as soon as you can and hand it to me tomorrow to consult on?" said Emily.
"That would be great," JJ replied.
Emily placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze before walking away from her. JJ smiled to herself. For the first time in three days, it felt like this all might turn out okay. Well, as okay as a case like this possibly could.
Once they got back, everyone went home within an hour. JJ and Hotch, as usual, were the last ones left. JJ was holed up in her office, updating the case file for Emily tomorrow, and waiting for the sheriff's updates. As she slid the last freshly printed piece of paper in the file, she realized that meant she very well could leave. All she had to do was take it to Emily's desk.
JJ was becoming more and more nervous on her walk down to her desk. When she got there, it was like the file was glued to her hand. No, she couldn't let it go. She couldn't wait until tomorrow. Not when something could be done right away.
Without thinking through her next move, she kept the file and marched up the stairs to Hotch's office, opening the door and walking to his desk before dropping the file down on it.
Hotch looked at the file that was now half blocking the report he was writing, then up at JJ.
"I have to finish this," said Hotch, "Can this wait?"
"It's already waited three days," JJ replied, realizing she was speaking to her boss a bit too sternly but, honestly, not really caring.
Hotch locked eyes with her, and strangely, he seemed like he understood where she was coming from. It didn't completely elude JJ why he would. A team takes on the qualities of it's leader. What JJ was doing was no foreign concept to Hotch.
"JJ, I really have to finish this," he told her, still trying not to waver.
"Please, Hotch," she pleaded. She could see it in his eyes. He was softening a bit. "Please."
Hotch appeared to sigh to himself, reaching for the case file and opening it up. JJ finally sat down across from him, relieved to have gotten him to look at it. She waited anxiously for him to say anything as he flipped through the photos and all of the information collected so far.
"The victimology is the same," he said, "All had dead children."
"All were teenagers that committed suicide," JJ told him, and Hotch looked up from the file, furrowing his brow at her, "Well, I'm assuming for the last family anyway. It was true for the others, though. I'm willing to be it's true for them too."
Hotch simply looked back down at the file. "How did you connect the MO's? They seem very different aside from all the victims being restrained."
JJ paused. He was talking to her like he'd talk to another profiler consulting on a case. "How did I connect them?"
"I know you were working this case, JJ," Hotch told her, "You don't normally get that distracted."
JJ looked away, ashamed that she'd been caught. Obviously, he knew she was distracted, but she didn't think he knew it was so bad to the point that she was fully working it behind everyone's backs. "I'm sorry."
"It's not the first time any of us have had something else on our mind," he replied, "We just can't let it affect our focus on the case we need to work as a team to solve."
"I won't let myself get distracted again," she replied.
"You will," he said, still looking through the file, "We all will. Plenty more times. But you have to ask for help when it does."
JJ was relieved. She felt so lucky that he wasn't angry.
"Still, I want to know how you connected the MO's," Hotch repeated.
"They're all common methods used to take your own life," said JJ.
Hotch nodded. "That's what I'm thinking too." He flipped to another page. "What's going on with this missing boy? Are there any leads as to where he went?"
"I think he's the unsub, Hotch," said JJ.
"Why?" he asked her. JJ suddenly felt self-conscious, as if it were a crazy leap to make, but she knew her thought process was sound. She had to stay confident.
"I think he's an Angel of Death," she told him, "I think he's putting them out of their misery by having them die by suicide like their kids and siblings." JJ took a deep breath before continuing. "Suicide is generally seen as something that provides a sense of relief… like being freed from suffering. I think that's why he's staging these mercy kills as suicide. Maybe it takes the guilt off of him? Like he views his brother's suicide as a relief for him. Something that spared his brother from suffering— but, for himself and his family, it created suffering. So, naturally, he knows the out from suffering is suicide. So that's what he did to all those people burdened by their losses: freed them."
Hotch looked back up from the file and at her. JJ struggled to read the look he was giving her once again.
"You seem to already have this figured out," he said to her. He almost sounded confused.
"I couldn't just leave it," JJ replied, her voice a lot quieter and gentler. She didn't have to tell him why.
Hotch took a breath in to tell her something, but her cell phone rang before he could. She answered it without any hesitation or regard for Hotch at all.
"Agent Jareau?" asked the sheriff on the other end.
JJ didn't even bother with a greeting. "I'm assuming there's an update?"
"Yeah, actually, a great one," he told her.
JJ couldn't keep the smile off her face. She looked over at Hotch, her eyes full of hope. Hotch gave her a small smile when their eyes met, pleased that she seemed to be getting good news.
"What is it?" asked JJ.
"We found the kid," he told her, "It was him."
Oh my God. She was right. More importantly, there was potential to save him. To help him get off this path and live some form of a life, even if it had to be from some kind of mental health facility.
"We found him dead at his grandparents' house." The smile was instantly wiped from JJ's face. "Seems like he did the job for us. He left a note confessing too. I'll fax it to you. Thanks for your help, Agent."
"Yeah," JJ faked clearing her throat, trying to suppress the knot she suddenly felt there, "It's what we're here for. Have a good night."
She didn't really wait for the sheriff to reply before she hung up. JJ shut her eyes briefly, trying to swallow down the tightness she felt.
"What happened?" asked Hotch.
JJ couldn't even look at him. She felt her vision blurring. She knew she had to get out of Hotch's office. JJ reached for the folder, taking it from his hands.
"They found the kid," she told Hotch, trying her best and failing to keep a smile on her face, "He was the unsub. He killed himself, so it's over." She cleared her throat again, as if that would cover for her voice shaking. JJ got up from the chair, turning around to walk back to her office.
"JJ—" she heard Hotch's voice behind her, but she couldn't be there anymore.
She walked back to her office, walking in, plopping the case back down on the desk, and shutting the door. In complete silence, she stood there, holding herself, trying to take control over her shaky breathing— making sure that knot she felt in her throat didn't become anything else.
It would have worked had she not been interrupted by the fax machine printing. At least JJ told herself it would have worked.
A copy of a blood splattered piece of paper with a handwritten note came out of the machine. JJ had to internally count herself down to make herself even take a step toward it to the point where the page wasn't even warm anymore by the time she touched it.
Taking a deep breath, she read the note.
I didn't understand why he did it before. We all wanted to live, but when he died, we all died.
All of them did too, I know it. So what's the point? It's not a life. They were basically gone anyway, just holding onto some false hope that it could get better. If they weren't gone, they were in pain.
If this was how he felt, I get it. I would do it in a heartbeat. I know they all would have agreed. They just didn't want to admit it.
For a few seconds, everything was numb, but it wasn't long before she was past that and the knot in her throat unraveled into a mangled mess and she dropped to the floor, placing her head in her arms on her desk.
She let out such loud, heaving sobs. It was a kind of crying she hadn't done since she was a kid— actually, since she was eleven.
After a few minutes, she just stayed there, on her knees with her head down on the desk. She didn't even bother to look up when she heard the door open.
"JJ," she heard Hotch say, "Take a few days."
"What?" she asked, sniffling. How could she not have considered that he would have heard her?
"Please, take a break," he told her, "This is a lot to handle."
"He left a note," she said, needing to explain herself, disregarding what he was saying and looking in the direction of the paper as she pushed herself up and into her chair.
Hotch picked it up, taking a moment to read it. "JJ," he said, sitting down across from her, concern practically dripping from his voice. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"They had to focus on the other case," she replied. Hotch didn't argue that. She was right.
"This would be too much for anybody to take on," he told her, "Just take some time. Please."
"I know," she told him, "I know it's a lot, but I don't need a break. There needs to be someone on these cases. This can't happen again."
"You've given everyone plenty of cases to work on," he told her, "We'll be fine for a day or two."
"No, Hotch, I can't let—” she choked on a sob she didn't even realize was caught in her throat, making her pause to think through what she was saying, "Could we have saved him, Hotch? If we'd gone there?"
"Maybe," he told her, "But most likely not. He felt like his fate was sealed. He wanted to die. It likely would have been suicide by cop. You know that."
JJ wiped her tears away, placing her head in her hands, and taking a breath before finally looking at Hotch.
"I just— no, it's ridiculous."
"You can tell me," he said, looking at her so softly that it got a chuckle out of her. The thought of talking to Hotch like this was oddly surreal to the point where it was a little bit funny. She knew he had this in him, but JJ had never seen him look so visibly concerned for her.
"I'm wondering what the difference between me and him even was," said JJ, surprised she even felt secure enough to say anything like that, "What stopped me from doing what he did? Not even to his family, but to himself?"
"You don't give up," he told her. The answer was instant, like he didn't even have to push himself to come up with it. "Not on us, not on your family, and not on yourself."
At first, she hesitated. She didn't want anyone to think of what Roslyn did as giving up. JJ had to remind herself that Hotch would never mean that. She looked at him, appreciative of what he was telling her. "Thanks."
"Taking a day off isn't giving up," he told her, getting up from the chair to walk out, "I won't make you, but you should take it."
JJ shifted uncomfortably, thinking about it for a second. She did give them a lot of cases. He was right, nothing would fall apart without her for just one day. Cases like that one certainly weren't an every day occurrence either. Plus, if any case was urgent, it could go straight to Hotch just like the one they solved in Florida did.
"I won't come in tomorrow," she told him.
"Good," he said, opening the door to walk out. "And JJ?"
"Yeah, Hotch?"
"I think it's time to think about becoming a profiler."