Title: Morgan le Fay
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds nor King Aurther and the Knights of the Round Table, just in case you were wondering.
Backstory for Morgan le Fay: The modern image of Morgan is often that of a villain: a seductive, megalomaniacal sorceress who wishes to overthrow Arthur...however, some adopted Morgan as a representation of female power.
Author's Note: I don't like JJ. She bother's me. However, I do enjoy writing her for some reason. This has spoiler's for s2. This is basically what I think what happens to JJ after those dogs attack her, and the term for it is cynophobia.

Jennifer never felt like one of the guys. She did what she was told, she went without question, and sometimes she got hurt and she didn't know what the hell to do. It wasn't always bad things however, sometimes she got to flirt, sometimes she got to do her job correctly. It wasn't always bad, except when she thought she was going insane.

Like when she heard dogs barking. It didn't use to bother her so much, except now whenever she heard them, she would freeze, black out, stop breathing- it didn't matter- she'd have a panic attack. And she would always have to go back to thinking of those dogs. The ones she had to kill.

Thinking about it now made Jennifer's throat close up. It was nauseating and a dizzying experience that she never thought she'd be able to go threw, but she did. It literally made her wake up at night screaming. Sometimes she'd have to take a break in the middle of a case and sit on the bathroom floor, drenched in sweat, trying to control her breathing, and trying to stop vomiting. The first time Emily walked in on her mid-panic attack, she just stopped and stared.

Jennifer didn't blame her. She didn't blame Penelope either. She blamed herself after she screamed at them over the phone after work, shouting things that didn't even make sense to her. After her outbursts (as she like to call them kindly) she would sit on her couch in a ball, and bite the skin on her thumb.

She would get cold and turn off the air and sweat and heat would fill her apartment. It would be a mixture of cold and sweat and Jennifer would strip off her clothes, her hands shaking as she ran her hands over the scars on her arms that she didn't let anyone see. The hair on her arms would raise and she'd feel some sort of prickling on her neck that would make her scream and press further into her couch.

And there was nothing she could do about the attacks. Because in her mind, they were real. They were real attacks; she could see the dogs and smell their saliva and feel their eyes burn into her stomach and her throat. It was those kinds of thought that kept her up at night staring at the floor, rocking back and forth, trying to pretend that it wasn't real.

And then the phone would ring and she would grab her gun off the coffee table that she didn't remember putting there. Jennifer would scream as the tears she hadn't shed yet came falling out of her eyes.

"JJ," she would say soft and hoarse into the receiver and it would always be Hotch on the other line, saying something emotionlessly and relative to work. "I'll be in as soon as I can," she would always reply back, slamming her phone shut and dropping her head in between her knees and shaking.

"How's she doing?" Gideon asked Hotch, sitting down next to the younger man who had been keeping tabs on JJ for the past few weeks.

"She isn't doing well, but she's covering up well enough."

"Handling better than Elle?"

"Elle killed a man, Gideon," said Hotch, looking back down at the table, rearranging files for their next briefing. Gideon didn't reply to that, just kept his eyes glued on Hotch with that...stare of his. Hotch gave into the stare and closed his eyes, willing Gideon to look away. "JJ isn't going to ask for help. She's going to work herself to death, sleep with her co-workers, drink herself into insomnia and manage to never seek help. She's not going to care soon Gideon."

"You're worried?"

"I'm not worried. I'm concerned."

"You know," began Gideon, finally blinking and looking away from Hotch's back. "They both lead to the same thing."

"What's that?" asked Hotch, turning his head to watch Gideon leave the room. He paused by the door and looked across the bull pin at JJ on the other side, pretending to laugh at something clever Morgan had said.

"Pitty."