Author's Note: Anything you recognize or like belongs to someone else, I'm just playing in their sandbox.

R-C

Broken

She stood at the bathroom sink and fought the urge to cry. Where had it all gone wrong? This wasn't how things were supposed to be for her. Not too long ago she thought she had everything she could ever want, and now she had nothing. Even looking back with the gift of hindsight, she still couldn't pinpoint the moment where it all went wrong.

The reflection in the mirror taunted her but she pretended not to notice. Ignoring the way her previously bright blue eyes were now empty of all emotion. The dark, bruise-like bags were evidence she hadn't been sleeping and her soft porcelain skin looked chalky and uneven.

In the privacy of her own home she didn't bother to try and pretend. For the last week while she and the team had been hunting a serial killer in North Dakota she'd had to hide behind a façade. She added salient comments when they were building the profile. She smiled when Garcia joked, when Reid rambled and when Rossi made yet another comment about how different things were now compared to the 'good old days'. When Hotch and Alvez innocently asked about her family she lied easily, far too easily in her opinion, insisting all was well. She even went so far as to say Will had taken the boys to visit their relatives in New Orleans since the case had taken longer to close than they originally expected.

In truth, the only time she felt remotely helpful was when she was talking to the victim's families. Those people needed her and she now related to them in a way she hadn't been able to before. Now when she held the hand of a mother whose child had been murdered, or when she watched a father cry, because he only turned his back for a moment and in that time his son vanished. Her situation was different but the parallels were unavoidable and it drove her to do the best she could, regardless of her personal feelings. If she couldn't help her own family perhaps her pain could fuel her to help others in even worse situations.

Tears stung the back of her eyes and she immediately looked away from the mirror so she wouldn't have to see them fall. With a violent shake of her head that sent her tight ponytail swinging wildly she marched out of the bathroom and down the hall to change. Her eyes stayed locked straight ahead, avoiding the doors on the left and right. Eight months later and she still couldn't bear going into one of her children's bedrooms. Both doors were closed, a final barrier keeping the past inside, separate from the life she was now struggling to live. It was the only way she could manage to make it through the day.

To make matters worse, she had the unique distinction of spending her time with some of the most observant and intuitive people on the planet. At first she tried to hide it, even knowing how pointless it would be. That ended quickly though because after only a week, she was simply too drained to keep up the charade. Now she saw the concerned looks, heard the whispered conversations that stopped as soon as she got close and caught eyes watching her from across the room, as if she were a puzzle to solve. She didn't care anymore, didn't have the energy to care anymore, so she just went through the motions, one day at a time and hoped that no one would pressure her for answers she couldn't give.

Everyday someone would ask how she was, how Will was doing, how Henry liked the newest gift they'd sent him or how quickly Michael was growing and every day she would lie to them. She hated it, lying to the people who had become a second family to her, but she didn't see another way. Some things were just too private to share, too personal to dump on people who were already dealing with so much. She decided the first day that it would be selfish to spread her burdens onto the team and that was one of the few choices in her life she didn't regret.

Dozens of times she'd picked up the phone to confess everything, to Hotch, to Garcia, she even considered calling Emily an ocean away, but she always hung up before the call could connect.

While there were times where she craved someone, anyone to share her pain with, she just couldn't do that to the team. Not when their work already took so much of their time, not when they all had their own monsters haunting them. She just couldn't do it.

Whether it was a case or not, she knew that the moment Hotch found out, he'd insist he be allowed to help. Urgent cases would be placed on the backburner so the most talented team in the entire FBI could aide in her marital problems. She couldn't allow that to happen. The thought of involving the others turned her stomach, reminding her how petty and selfish it would be to drag them into her misery just so she wouldn't have to suffer alone.

Dressed in a pair of boy shorts and an oversized football jersey that reached her knees she hurried out of the bedroom, avoiding looking at the bed and practically sprinting to the kitchen.

Once there, it took only seconds for her to retrieve the chilled vodka from where she'd hidden it and she carried it into the living room, while humming a melody she couldn't name. Flopping onto the couch carelessly, she twisted the cap off harshly and dropped it, before she took her first sip, not bothering with a glass.

Lifting the bottle to her lips for a second time she laughed humorlessly at how this must look, a young woman sitting alone, in the dark, drinking straight from the bottle. She could only imagine what the profilers she worked with would see if they were watching her now. Another thought rattled in her head and she thought of her mother, her sweet, small-town mother. What would her darling mother say if she could see her innocent daughter now? With vivid clarity, she could hear her mother's voice through the haze of pain, grief and alcohol. "Jennifer," she'd say, "this is no way for a mother to be acting."

Her laugh turned bitter then as she spoke back to her mother as if the older woman was actually in the room with her. "Relax mom, I'm not a mother… not anymore."

Long after those words had disappeared in the air, they still bounced around in her head, over and over. The truth hurt and the truth was that Jennifer Jareau, tough, brave, strong, intelligent, FBI agent Jennifer Jareau had lost everything and she didn't know how to get it back.

Determined to stop the thoughts from plaguing her she took another, longer drink and then another. Swallowing hard she did her best to ignore the burn as the memories of Henry's boisterous laughter and Michael's sweet giggles taunted her.

R-C

Penelope Garcia was a lot of things, most of them good, in her somewhat biased opinion, but no one, at any time, had ever labelled her patient. She was at her desk long after the work day was done and everyone else was gone, even Hotch but Garcia was going to stay, all night if she had to. No matter what it took.

Holding the phone to her ear she listened to the ringing while her toes, trapped in outrageous heels, tapped away under her desk. With each ring that went unanswered her anxiety grew. Were these rings longer and more spread out than normal? It seemed like they were.

As the ringing continued doubt began to creep in and move through her. Was she doing the right thing? Would JJ be mad she was invading her privacy? Would her actions damage the friendship she valued so highly? She didn't know, to be honest, but she was certain she had to do something.

For months, she'd watched JJ flutter around the office, hiding behind a mask of happiness when it was obvious to everyone that something was very wrong. The team saw it, Garcia wasn't even a profiler and she noticed, hell even Anderson commented more than once with concern for JJ's welfare. Garcia tried to talk to her, dozens of times, but each time the former media liaison expertly avoided any serious questions and steered the conversation away from her personal life, assuring her friend she was fine.

Garcia knew as well as anyone that life had its share of ups and downs, even for someone as sweet and kind as JJ, but this was becoming ridiculous. At first she expected JJ to bounce back on her own, after a few days, or a few weeks. When it didn't happen, she chalked the change up to separation anxiety, leaving Michael to return to work. Next she suspected that Will and JJ were having a fight. She knew the detective was always pushing for JJ to leave the field and take a desk job so the family could return to his native New Orleans, but JJ had been adamant, right from the start that she was where she wanted to be and Will would have to accept that.

It had been months since they'd seen each other outside the office and even longer since she'd seen she'd seen her Godson or the other adorable little boy she loved. Something just didn't feel right, and after years of working with profilers, she had learned the value of trusting one's instincts. She was trusting hers now, as the phone continued to ring, all she needed was someone to answer.

When the call finally connected, Garcia released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It was strange to her how those five rings could feel like an eternity. Her toes increased the speed and veracity of their tapping as she listened to the noises on the other end.

While she waited, Garcia heard what she could only assume was someone reaching for their phone, and dropping it. Even with the phone separated from its owner Penelope was confident the word she heard was a curse of some kind although it was definitely not spoken in English. Not able to identify the language, her heart stilled in her chest and she wondered if she'd dialed the wrong number. Her fingers went to work on her keyboard searching out her address book to double check.

After another delay that stretched her patience even further Garcia heard the voice she'd been trying to reach. "Prentiss," she said groggily.

Guilt flooded through the blonde. She'd been so worried about JJ, so desperate to get her help, that she hadn't even considered the time difference when she decided to call Emily. "Emily, I'm so sorry," she said in a rush. "I forgot about the time-zones things, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Garcia?" Emily asked. "Is that you?" The questions were separated with a yawn that confirmed she had indeed woken the Interpol agent.

"I'm sorry Sweetie, I didn't mean to wake you. I'll just call you back in a few hours. Sweet dreams and…"

Her words were cut off sharply by Emily's voice, sounding far more awake and just as firm and commanding as Garcia remembered it. "Garcia." When there wasn't an immediate response she tried again, her tone softening. "Garcia, what's wrong?"

Penelope didn't know what to do, a rare occurrence for her. She'd called to help, but she hadn't intended to wake Emily up in the process. Now Emily was awake the damage was already done and so Garcia had a decision to make. Should she explain the reason for her call or should she apologize again and hang up before Prentiss could object?

While she was still trying to decide the best course of action she was interrupted by Emily's voice. "Garcia, I'm fine, and I'm awake now, so you can talk to me. What's wrong? Is the team okay?"

Even from England Garcia could sense the concern Emily still had for their makeshift family. The thought warmed her heart and reassured her that she'd made the right decision in calling her, even if her timing was slightly off.

Again, she stayed lost in her thoughts until Emily pulled her out. "Garcia!" she said with force. "I need you to tell me what's going on."

Although she'd often heard that tone when Emily questioned suspects, Garcia herself had never been on the receiving end. Hearing it now, she had a sudden wave of empathy for the monsters who heard it while handcuffed to the table, looking into those dark eyes with no escape. Swallowing past the lump in her throat she fought to get the words out. "Emily, it's about JJ."

The response came almost instantly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Tell me everything!"

R-C

Emily boarded a plane for Virginia less than twenty-six hours after receiving Garcia's call. In that time, she had all but demanded a leave of absence from her job at Interpol, threatening to quit if her request wasn't granted. In a meeting with her boss' boss an old bureaucrat named John Clarke she thought she'd have to resign and was fully prepared to do so until he asked one critical question. Why?

When asked to reveal the reason of her sudden and inopportune absence she truthfully told the balding old bastard that it was a family emergency. She saw his eyes widen in surprise and his brow furrow. In that instant, she knew she had him. Clarke was ambitious and very aware of her mother's title and influence. He often asked about her in passing, hoping to score political points. For once Emily didn't mind.

By the end of the meeting Clarke not only granted the request but also wished her safe travels, while adding on that she should wish her mother well on his behalf. It was a challenge not to roll her eyes.

Oh, how she despised politics.

Signing the necessary papers Emily thanked him politely and shook his hand, before rushing out the door. She didn't feel the least bit of guilt at Clarke's misunderstanding. If her mother's name could get her to JJ when she needed to be there, she wasn't about to complain. As for the unavoidable consequences when Clarke learned the truth, well, Emily would deal with those when she got back.

Since there wasn't a direct flight from London to Virginia until three days later, Emily called in a favor or two and hitched a ride on a cargo jet that would be stopping to refuel at an airstrip less than thirty miles from her former home.

As she crossed the water Emily felt a knot in her stomach that grew tighter with every mile she travelled. She had a book open on her lap but she wasn't even pretending to read. All around her boxes and crates held secrets she couldn't be bothered to uncover or even consider, her entire focus was on JJ and Garcia's words.

Snippets of the conversation played on a loop in her head. The words Garcia said cut her like a knife and while none of it sounded like the JJ she knew and loved, she had been gone a long time and people could change. She idlily wondered what changed JJ so dramatically and didn't like any of the conclusions she reached.

Closing her eyes, she laid her head back against the side of the plane, feeling the vibrations of the steel behind her.

Desperate for answers she replayed the conversation with Garcia in her mind, again. Focusing on Garcia's words, her tone, her inflections.

"What's wrong with JJ?" Emily asked a little harshly, too panicked to worry about manners. She was wide awake now and ready for answers.

"I'm not sure," Garcia confessed, sounding defeated. "But it's bad, we all see it, and she won't talk to us. She won't hang out with us and she avoids us as much as she can. Even me."

She could hear the pain in Penelope's voice and that took Emily's own concerns to a whole new level. Secretly she'd always envied the closeness of JJ and Garcia's relationship. If Garcia was worried, Emily was too, because no one knew JJ better than Garcia, not even Will.

Emily's mind went to the most logical place, the job. Hunting human monsters is hard, and each one leaves its mark. She knew as surely as anyone the scars their job could leave, both visible and secret, and she shivered at the thought of JJ suffering through those alone. "Is it work? Have you guys had some rough cases?" She took a moment to pour herself a coffee and sat at the small circular table. "Cases with children were always rough on her but now that she's got Henry and Michael, I think they are even harder."

Garcia was quick to answer, as if she expected that question. "I don't think that's it. I mean all our cases are horrible, you know, but there hasn't been anything really, really bad lately." As she finished her thought she quickly added another, "Besides it's been months Emily, what could possible have her this scared for so long."

In her mind Emily went to one of the last times she'd seen JJ in person, hanging off the side of a roof, after being tortured and nearly killed. "Is it Askari?" she asked in a quiet voice, hating even speaking his name. "Have you talked to Cruz, is it about Hastings and what happened overseas?"

"That's what I thought!" Penelope shouted far too loud for the early hour. "Hotch even called Cruz to check, but he says there is nothing new, no threats, no chatter, no nothing."

Emily's mind raced. If it wasn't the cases, and it wasn't the past, that only left one option. "How are things with the family? Have you seen Will and the kids lately?"

"No," Garcia admitted sadly. "I haven't seen any of them in a long time, like months long. I keep offering to babysit so JJ and Will can have a date night, but she always says she has plans. When I stop by to visit unexpectedly, no one answers the door, even when her car is home, and when we go out as a team, she usually says no, or skips out after fifteen minutes. Last time she left before Rossi did."

Even as the fear gathered in her gut the comment from Garcia still made her smile. Rossi was a brilliant profiler, a great co-worker and an amazing friend, but he had little time for hanging out in dive bars, with dancing, darts and cheap beer. He preferred team get-togethers that included catered dinners, fine wines and cigars. When he did join the team out on the town it was common practice for Prentiss, Morgan, JJ, Garcia and Reid all take bets on how quickly he would make his escape. If JJ was leaving before Rossi she must have a hell of a reason for it.

"I don't know what to do," Garcia pleaded. "I've tried everything."

For a moment Emily turned her focus away from JJ and onto Garcia instead. She could hear the pain in her voice. "I know Garcia and it's going to be okay, I promise. I'll be there as soon as I can. Stay close to her, keep an eye on her, and I'll give you a call after I land."

Garcia seemed stunned, as if she didn't expect this outcome. "Y… you're coming here?"

"Of course, if you and JJ need me, I'll be on the next thing smoking, just hang tight and…"

"Emily Prentiss that is remarkably sweet," Garcia said as she interrupted her friend. "But what about work, your life in London?"

"You guys are more important," she answered confidently. "I'll talk to you soon Pen."

"What about Mark?" she asked, referring to Emily's former boyfriend.

She shrugged forgetting that Garcia couldn't see her. Her coffee had gone cold before she bothered to taste it. "We broke up a while back."

"Oh I'm sorry Cupcake, I didn't know…"

"Its fine Garcia,"

Sounding more like her cheerful self, Garcia asked, "So is there someone new?"

Emily's eyes snapped toward the bedroom where she could hear movement beyond the door. "We can talk about it when I see you," she said quickly, hoping to appease the gossip queen.

"So there is someone!" she screeched happily.

Emily held the phone away from her head for a moment, then when it was safe, set it back against her ear. "I'll call you when I land, give the team my love and keep an eye on JJ, I'll be there soon."

She hung up with her friend just as the bedroom door opened and her guest stepped out.

R-C

As Emily finished replaying the call for the umpteenth time she heard the crackled voice of the pilot saying they were preparing to land.

R-C

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. I'm not sure if this will interest other people, but it was stuck in my head. Let me know if you think I should continue, or give me suggestions for something else you'd like.

Russell Craig.