A/N: This is an AU! I'm actually a total Will/J.J shipper, I freaking love those two! But ever since seeing 7x14 "Closing Time" I've had this story in the back of my mind and I knew I had to make it. It is a J.J/Morgan shipping story, warning you from now. But yeah, read/review and enjoy!
There's one thing Agent Jennifer Jareau hates more than anything. And that's feeling weak. Useless. Powerless.
Sure, she carries a handgun.
Sure, she works for the FBI.
Sure, she passed her gun training sessions top of the class.
But she still felt weak and powerless.
The first time it happened, she felt like the entire world was crashing around her.
She had that handgun in her hand, but those dogs were faster, stronger than her.
They mauled her arm before she managed to empty her clip on them.
She had sat in that barn, rocking back and forth, blood pooling on the floor from her arm.
When she heard the sounds of boots and shouts, the one thing that processed in her mind was gun.
She needed to get her gun.
Her fingers closed around the cool metal of the gun's grip and she shot up, not afraid to shoot anyone in her way.
Of course, it was her friends. Her allies.
Who had the worst news possible.
Reid had been kidnapped.
She felt worthless. How could she have allowed this to happen? If only she had been stronger, faster! She could've gotten rid of those dogs and caught up to Reid! She wouldn't have sat in that barn, cradling her arm and feeling dizzy from all the blood she was losing. Why was she so pathetic? So weak?
If Morgan had been in her situation, he would've shrugged his injury off, ran into that farmyard and searched every nook and cranny for Reid.
And at the end of the night, when Reid had hugged her tightly and told her it wasn't her fault, she ran from her team and sat against that tree, trying her hardest to even breathe.
Because seeing Reid like that, so weak and helpless and knowing that IT WAS her fault...
It destroyed her completely.
Of course, Will and Henry had come into her life like a ray of sunshine, obliterating the darkness and making her feel whole again.
She no longer had to worry about being weak.
In Will's eyes, she was beautiful.
And for six years, everything was fine.
At least, that's what she thought.
Until Will had shown up drunk one night three weeks ago, stumbling around the house and calling her a bunch of hurtful names that clutched at her heart and made that weak, worthless feeling slowly creep back into her.
And if things were bad then, they were even worse now.
It was the middle of July, and a heatwave was soaring through Quantico, Virigina.
Yet, J.J was forced to wear a turtleneck sweater with long sleeves to hide the many bruises covering her body.
It had gotten particularly worse last night.
He had come home at two in the morning, yelling his head off. She hissed at him to keep his voice down, that Henry was asleep.
Of course, she should've known the moment she said that, he was going to get angry.
Her first instinct was to reach for her handgun.
It was in her beside dresser. All she had to do was run.
She could definitely do that. She was a soccer player after all. Running was like breathing to her.
But she couldn't do it.
She loved him. And if she were to face him, with that handgun in her hand and her finger on the trigger, she knew she wouldn't be able to do it.
Because she is weak, and worthless, and pathetic.
She is every thing Will has called her for the past three weeks.
His hands close around her throat and she feels her life fading from her.
At this point, she doesn't care.
The only reason she is living right now is for that boy in the room next door, who is so fast asleep, he doesn't hear his mom groaning in pain, gasping for breath.
He doesn't hear anything.
And that's when she realised that if she were to die here today, Will's abuse would go from her, to that little boy she loved so dearly.
She reaches out and scratches him, and he glares at her, letting her go. His fist strikes her face and the whole room starts spinning. He starts slamming her into the walls and hitting her as if she is a punching bag. But he avoids her face. Because he knows, if the team were to see those bruises, they would kill him.
Especially Derek Morgan.
The next morning she wakes up and there IS a bruise forming on her jaw. She tries her best to cover it with concealer. Will glares at it and she says he has nothing to worry about. She won't say a thing. Because she can't.
She is weak and worthless.
She sits at her office, fanning herself with a folder when Emily Prentiss walks up to her, smiling.
"Jayje, come on, it's the middle of summer! Why are you always wearing clothes that look like you want nothing more than to tear them off?"
"I felt cold this morning. Big mistake." J.J said, chuckling with fake humour. Prentiss doesn't buy it, and her eyes narrow. She grabs a chair and sits down.
"J.J...if something is going on...you would tell me, right?" She whispered, pressing her hand against J.J's knee, where a particularly large bruise is beginning to take form. J.J tries her hardest not to wince, but she probably does, cause Emily watches her in concern and her eyes glance down at J.J's knee.
"I'm fine, Em. Promise." She gets up and starts to walk away, but Emily grabs her arm.
"J.J!" She says in concern. Tears spring in her eyes at the pain zapping through her arm.
"Em! Come on, I said I'm fine-"
"No, what is that?"
Emily's hands reach for the bottom of J.J's shirt and she lifts it up, where bruises are crawling all over J.J's back.
"Emily..." J.J slaps her hand away and steps back. Emily's face is hard. Angry.
"How long?" She manages, her voice trembling.
"I don't know what you're talking about." J.J says stiffly. She goes to walk away, but Emily grabs her hand and leads her to the bathroom.
J.J tries to struggle, but doesn't see a point.
Emily is definitely stronger than her.
Emily is pacing in front of her, running her hands through her hair as J.J leans against the sink, looking at the floor blankly.
"When? How? Why?" Emily manages. Her hands are itching to reach for her gun, as if Will is in front of her and all she wants to do is shoot him.
"Not long. Three weeks." She says hollowly. Emily's eyes close and her jaw starts twitching.
"I'm going to kill him." She whispers through clenched teeth.
"Emily, that's enough."
"When you say that to him, does he stop!" She growls. Tears spring in J.J's eyes.
"He's the father of my child, Emily. I can't lose him."
"He is hurting you!" She half-shouts, and J.J is afraid someone might've heard her.
"No! You're not!"
And Emily begins crying. And because she begins crying, J.J starts crying. And suddenly, both girls are hugging each other, and J.J is collapsing to the floor in grief and Emily is the only thing holding her together.
"You have to fight him, J.J!" She whispers after awhile. She is cradling J.J with her arms tightly, as if letting her go means she will fall and be gone forever.
"I can't...everytime I-reach for my gun-I know it's p-p-pointless because I kn-know I can't sh-shoot him!"
"Use your fists!" Prentiss says. J.J shakes her head, taking deep breaths to calm herself.
"I don't know how-how to fight." She said, sighing. Prentiss looks at her in disbelief.
"You're an FBI agent and you don't know how to fight!" She exclaims. J.J shakes her head.
"Go to Morgan. He can teach you!" Emily says, smiling sadly. J.J looks at her.
Emily...her best friend.
"I'll talk to him...but Emily, please! Don't tell him about Will! Please! Don't tell anyone!"
"J.J, I won't! You know I won't! But I'm only gonna keep quiet if you do something about it!" She said.
And J.J nods.
Because she knows that's what Emily wants to hear.
Six weeks later, J.J calls in sick. She knows she can't work.
Her face is bloody and bruised and she can barely get out of bed.
She calls Will's sister to pick Henry up and take him. Take him as far away from it all as she can.
Will's sister watches her with sad eyes and says she will kill her brother if he puts another hand on her.
J.J knows it's an empty threat.
No one can stop Will.
No one but herself.
But she is weak, and worthless. She doesn't have the power to stop him.
Her whole body shakes as she attempts to sit up. She cries in pain as her back protests.
She hears a knock on the door downstairs and groans.
She wishes she had parked her car in the garage last night. Then the person at the front door would think no one is home.
But it isn't. It's sitting in the driveway in it's red glory, shining under the sun's light.
She know she can't go and answer it. Hopefully the person will just leave when no one answers.
And that's when she hears a bang.
She sits up, ignoring the pain.
It's Will. She know it is.
She runs into the bathroom and locks the door.
She begs him not to find her.
And her heart sags.
Because it's a woman's voice.
And it's Emily Prentiss's voice.
J.J sighs and goes to open the bathroom, then remembers what she looks like.
But she can hear Emily charging toward the bathroom and decides she doesn't want to pay to repair another door in her house.
She opens it and Emily's leg is the first thing to enter the room, followed by the rest of her body.
"Oh thank god, I thought you were de-"
She stops cold and goes pale when she sees J.J's face.
"It isn't as bad as it looks." J.J whispers.
Emily just looks at her in shock.
"Jayje..." She whispers.
"You need to talk to Morgan. Or I will." Emily says. J.J sighs.
But again, she is lying. But she doesn't tell Emily that. And when Emily hugs her tightly, J.J cries.
Because once again, she feels weak and worthless.
She sits at her desk. Her eyes are blank and she stares at nothing.
The entire team watches her, asks her questions and she answers them, but there's no emotion.
Everyone asks Emily, and she keeps her lips shut. Because she knows J.J will never forgive her if she tells.
And it's when she looks at the photo frame on her desk and gets up that the team knows something is wrong with her.
Because she has tears in her eyes and she practically runs to the bathroom.
Morgan gets up to go to her, and Emily touches his arm.
"She's having problems with Will. She's alright."
But Morgan can see the lie in her eyes and he gets furious.
Because all he wants to do is help.