This is just something I couldn't get out of my head. Enjoy!

Hotch POV. When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.

It was a normal morning. I was writing up reports as usual, and I turned a blind eye as the team played a prank on poor, young Reid. JJ was in her office, overworking herself as usual. Garcia was playing some computer game I will never understand, and Dave—well, who knows what Dave does in his spare time?

I thought it was a normal morning, and that is why I feel guilty over what happened. Because this was nothing even close to a normal morning.

"Is this our new case?" I asked JJ automatically as she dropped a paper on my desk, not looking up from the reports I was writing. Every week was the same routine: she walks in, shows me the file, and we present it to the team. But this routine only stuck because JJ always picked the right cases; because even though she wasn't an official profiler, she was the best of us.

So I was taken aback when instead of her usual, "Mm-hm," she gave me a shaky, "Uh, no." She stuttered slightly, which was my first hint that something was wrong. JJ was strong and confident: I had only ever seen her show weakness on a handful of occasions. As a matter of fact, these events ran through my mind: when she got attacked by man-eating dogs, when she was afraid for Henry's life during the anthrax exposure, when she told me about her sister...I stopped writing abruptly. Those were the only times I could think of.

I looked up at her, worried. She was fidgeting slightly, fiddling with her sister's necklace. I had only seen that necklace once, and it was during the case with the Choking Game contest. Ever since then, she either wore no necklace or one of her own.

That was my second hint that something was wrong.

The third was what startled me most.

Her left arm was sporting a thin, blue sling, which she tugged at slightly. I could tell she was uncomfortable in it, which didn't surprise me. JJ would not have wanted to be bound by an injury, and right now her arm's mobility was strictly limited. She was being controlled by a piece of fabric, something I never would have been able to picture.

"JJ, what happened?"

Instead of saying anything, she looked meaningfully at the paper I had forgotten about, which was lying carelessly on my desk. I picked it up carefully and skimmed it over before looking up at her warily. "Your letter of resignation?"

Instead of confirming or denying, she merely stated, "I talked it over with Strauss: you guys will have a new media liaison before the end of next week. You can do interviews with her, or she can do them herself."

"I don't want a new media liaison," I complained childishly.

She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Hotch, but it's time that I start doing something for myself."

"What do you mean?" I pushed.

"I mean...I just mean that after eight years of working for the FBI, I only recently took stock of my life. And I didn't like what I found."

I nodded slowly, taking all of this in. Something happened to JJ, something she didn't want me to know about. "What happened to your arm?" I asked.

She bit her lip and looked down at my desk, uncomfortable by the question. She closed her eyes as she sat down slowly in the chair across from me, wincing a little as she landed in the chair. She crossed her legs and wrapped her good arm around her body, a sure sign that she was closing herself off and didn't want to talk about what happened.

There was no way I was going to let that slide.

"JJ," I barked.

She looked up, fear glowing in her eyes for only a moment before an emotionless mask quickly clouded over her face.

A mask I recognized too well.

"Sorry," I nearly whispered. Then, "Was it Will?"

She looked up sharply. "What?"

"Somebody hurt you, badly. Was it Will?"

"Y-yes. Uh, no not really," she spluttered.

"What do you mean?"

"He left me last night." She rushed out.

I knew that feeling all too well, and I knew how much that could hurt. But I also knew that something like that wouldn't make strong, independent JJ quit on such short notice. "I'm sorry," I said sincerely, looking into her big, blue eyes. Eyes that I would miss so much.

She nodded. "He took Henry with him."

Again, I could relate. But she already knew this, so I said nothing, silently edging her on.

She took a deep breath, trying and succeeding to keep her voice from shaking. "I got home late last night, kind of like I have been for a while. Will...he couldn't get Henry to stop crying. Apparently he was asking for me." The rims of her eyes were red from tears she wouldn't let fall. It hurt me to see how much pain she was in, but I didn't let it show. "Will is always such a gentleman, he never hurt me on purpose."

"But?" I probed. Even though I feel extremely guilty about it now, I was curious as to where this story was going. Thankfully, she took my curiosity as me pushing for answers, so she continued without too much hesitation.

"But he told me he gave up. He said that it was too much for him, and this wasn't what he signed up for. He said that the only reason he had stayed with me for so long was because of Henry, and that he couldn't take it anymore. He said that I am too self-absorbed, I don't think enough about my family. He told me," she choked back a sob, "he told me that Henry needs a real mother. They left."

I unintentionally profiled that her repeated use of the words "he said" and "he told me" meant that she didn't believe what he said.

"You know that's not true," I said angrily. How could somebody ever say something like that to her? JJ was sweet, kind, and an overall amazing person. I couldn't believe how much of an asshole Will had been!

"I know that," she shook her head, then looked up at me, her eyes wide and searching my face. She was unintentionally and unknowingly trying to profile my answer as she asked, "But how do you know? What if he's right, what if I wasn't ready to have a baby?"

"JJ, you are a wonderful mother. Do you remember Mrs. Collins from that case in Providence? Meg? Do you remember her asking how many you have, that you were too good not to be a mother?" She looked at me, shocked. "I read your report," I reminded her quietly. "JJ, the fact that you wrote about all that just proves my point. You were so focused on the family, making sure they came first, before the unsub. And that's why we need you here, JJ. You keep us together. You keep our heads on, when we might lose them to the unsub. You help keep us sane, and you remind us how to love life."

She shook her head. "You have Garcia for that."

I shook my head. "We have Garcia to remind us that not everything is evil. You taught us...I don't know, you taught us how to make lemonade out of the lemons that life throws at us," I said, upset that I went so low as to use such a cliché.

She smiled slightly.

"JJ," I said softly, "what happened to your arm?"

"After he...left," she began hesitantly, "I tried to follow him out. But I was so tired and out of it, I slipped on the ice. I guess I hit my head really hard or something, because the next thing I remember was being in the hospital with the doctors standing over me, saying that I had a broken arm and a concussion."

"I'm sorry," I said, but something was wrong with her story. "How did you get to the hospital?"

"I asked the doctors that. They said a nice man brought me in. A nice man with a little boy." She looked up at me, longing etched on every feature of her perfect face. "He thought enough to bring me to the hospital, but told them he didn't know me."

She sighed and looked back down. "I was in the hospital all night—I just got out a few hours ago. And while I was there, I wasn't allowed to sleep because of my concussion. So instead, I thought. I took stock of my life. And I realized that I don't like what I have." Again, I saw her bite back the tears that were threatening to fall down her cheeks. But she is too strong to let that happen, so instead she just refused to look me in the eyes. "Hotch, we run around arresting and killing murderers. We're no better than them, because what we do is think like them. That's our job. I can't live like that anymore; I can't live knowing that what I think is the same as what the killers think. And I can't live knowing that I put the disgusting, sick, twisted unsubs before my own family.

"I appreciate everything you did for me, Hotch. I really do. But I'm not as strong as everyone else." Lies, I couldn't help but think. JJ is the strongest of us all. The tear running down my face just supported my beliefs. I wiped it way before she could see how much this really affected me. "You made me who I am, and you made me a better person. Everyone here did. You all taught me so much about life, and that's just why I'm leaving. Thank you for everything, Hotch."

She looked up at me, the tears gone. And that's when I knew that I had to let her go. She wasn't crying because this was the right thing. She had all night to think about it, and now that she made up her mind, there was no changing it.

That was one of the many things that I loved about JJ.

She stood up and grabbed her bag with her good arm. She smiled at me sadly before walking slowly out my door.

I was frozen, I couldn't talk. My voice was lost in my throat, and my mind was everywhere all at once. I couldn't believe this was happening so fast. My breathing accelerated, something JJ would have noticed if she wasn't so concentrated on walking out the door before I started asking more questions.

She turned around abruptly, right in my doorway. Immediately I slowed my breathing to a normal pace.

"There's one thing I want you to know, Hotch. Life gave me tons of ridiculously sour lemons all through my life, and I've always been able to make some kick-ass lemonade." We both smiled slightly at the truth in this comment. "But this time, life gave me one too many lemons and not enough sugar, and my lemonade overflowed. You just happened to be under the pitcher, and I'm sorry for that. I really am."

She waited for a comment or some sort of reaction out of me, but I was still frozen to the spot. She seemed to understand this as she nodded slowly and turned on her heel.

"JJ," I called as soon as I found my voice, hoping she wasn't so far that she couldn't hear me anymore.

"Yeah?" she asked, poking her head around my door one last time.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

She nodded again. "Thank you."

And she walked out my door for the last time.

Hope you liked it! This story is not my priority but it WILL be updated, I promise! Please review :)