Author's Note: Sorry I've been MIA. I know that I have vowed to never leave stories incomplete, but after a really crazy summer my older stories are on indefinite hiatus. (If you're mad, thank the guy that stole my laptop). So here's this, it's complete so there won't be any more.
Forgiveness.
It is a funny word.
Something people talk about in the abstract, talking about how easy it should be.
How good it should feel.
But all Jennifer Jareau wants is revenge.
There is a blackness inside of her. A hate that she never knew was possible to exist. It is like a hole that is eating her up and fueling her all at the same time. It scares her and comforts her at the same time.
How could someone do this?
How could he have done this to them?
She has seen some cruel things in the world. Awful, horrible, atrocious things. Yet none of them compare to this.
None of them even come close.
Because this horror is personal.
This pain is hers.
It's deep and painful and raw and hurtful.
And no one could possibly understand just how much it hurts.
How much her heart shatters with each accidental glance, finding him missing when she looks around the room expecting him at her side.
After two weeks, she wonders how she can even do this anymore.
The emptiness inside her threatens to swallow her whole.
The loneliness and the pain are almost too much to bear.
But the anger? The anger is what keeps her going. The rage is what keeps her alive. The fury is what keeps her putting each foot in front of the other—somehow doing the impossible and moving forward after this tragedy.
And the thirst for revenge only gets stronger.
Each time a person comes up and says 'I'm sorry for your loss' it's as if her skin catches on fire all over again. The burning, horrible burning returning.
And all she wants is revenge.
She can't go back to work.
It's another thing he took from her.
She supposes if she started physical therapy and worked hard, she might get some cushy desk job.
But it doesn't matter.
Henry is gone.
Will is gone.
And in some ways, she is too.
She doesn't really have a back-up plan.
Because honestly, what does she need after revenge?
So she spends her days (and nights) planning. Perfecting. Meticulously planning out every detail. Blue-prints. Poisons. Drugs. Any method that inflicts the most pain possible. She's not stupid enough to write anything on a laptop (Garcia still somehow foolishly believes she can come back from this and is watching her like a hawk), so instead she writes every detail into her notebook.
It's an obsession, an obsession that seems to fill every aspect of her life.
She eats revenge.
Drinks vengeance.
Breathes retribution.
And every day gets one step closer to retaliation.
It's not enough to make him hurt. Nor is it enough to make him pay.
He has to hurt like she hurt. He has to feel like she felt.
And only then will she put his sorry excuse for a life out of his misery.
She had learned about stressors, triggers, that could send normal people into psychopathy.
She had always wondered what it would take for her to get to that point.
Now she knows.
Funny, how life works out like that.
Although she can't seem to bring herself to care.
Emily is driving her crazy.
(Well, crazier than she already is, and that's saying something).
Her friend all but abandoned her growing career, citing some stupid technicality that JJ knew was a lie. Emily thinks JJ needs someone to look out for her.
It makes it more difficult (but not impossible) for her to focus all her energies on her plan. Dodging Emily's concern quickly becomes second nature.
But Emily Prentiss is nothing but persistent.
So, JJ reluctantly gets in the car every Tuesday and Thursday and stays silent the whole ride there.
She puts on her best press face and offers polite (if disinterested) responses as a qualified therapist tries unsuccessfully to get her to "open up".
She's only doing this to get Emily to leave her alone.
Eventually, an hour passes and Emily forces her to eat some sort of lunch before taking her home.
Any other time, JJ might be grateful for the concern.
Now, she's just annoyed.
Three hours a day, twice a week is taken from her time that is normally dedicated to the plan.
But she makes up for it in the wee hours of the night, when the truly malicious, violent thoughts enter her mind.
She might as well; it is not as if she can sleep anymore.
Her mild annoyance with Emily grows into a full blown argument when the others seem to see Emily's "success".
Emily doesn't leave.
JJ's not sure if she wants her to.
The others on her team start following Emily's example. First, dropping by meals innocently and insisting they stay and eat with her.
Even in this revenge-filled world, JJ still has manners and always reluctantly complies.
Next, each former teammate starts insisting they get her out of her house.
As if they think she can escape this for any length of time.
Fridays, Emily returns and insists on taking her to different art galleries. She's not sure why, she can tell Emily hates it. (She's never been one to appreciate art, as Emily constantly reminds her). But it's refreshing. For a moment, she can almost imagine a world beyond all of this. And then she goes home back to the emptiness and her plan.
Tuesdays, Garcia always has something different planned. Oddly, it usually involves destruction. Once, JJ helped her bash in the hard drives of old computers that the bureau didn't use anymore. Another time, they found themselves on the shooting range for hours. It feels good to destroy things, even better to have the familiar gun in her hand. Some of the things help her to prepare her plan, so she doesn't mind.
Hotch starts showing up at a ridiculous time every morning in his running gear. After coaxing her out of bed the first day, he buys her a bagel and coffee after their run. They talk about mundane things, avoiding anything that could even remotely be connected with work, family, friends, or a personal life. For some reason, she starts to find herself waiting for him, already wearing her running gear before he rings the doorbell.
Rossi brings her dinner on Sundays. At first, she was mildly annoyed by all the food, but then after the first or second bite remembered what a great cook he really is. Dave jokes around with her, teasing her as he prepares some complicated dish in her own kitchen. In the beginning, it's hard to smile. As time progresses, smiles come more easily. Sometimes laughter follows. Guilt is there, but memories are too. Dave seems to understand in a way she can't describe, and never pushes. She looks forward to Sundays.
Morgan treats her differently than the others. Everyone else has a set schedule, checking in on her constantly as if they are afraid that she could crumble at any moment (which may not be too far from the truth). Derek calls sporadically during the week, always with some activity or sporting event that only the two of them would ever care about. A Redskins game. A paintball tournament. All of it seems natural and organic and easy.
Emily, ever faithful continues to pick her up every Tuesday and Thursday. JJ still doesn't say a word and is relieved that Emily never pushes.
It's gradual, even weird, how this all starts to change. The constant need for revenge somehow dulls to a throbbing ache. The hole is still there, but…it's different somehow. The edges around it are more defined, the empty pit doesn't seem as empty. Sometimes, it still threatens to overtake her. It overwhelms her sometimes, how much she can actively despise another person. Other times, though, the emptiness doesn't seem so lonely and the bitterness doesn't seem as harsh while the betrayal doesn't feel as fresh.
She doesn't really know what to do with that.
One day, she realizes that she hasn't opened up her notebooks all day.
She feels bad, guilty even, and starts to review the plan from the beginning with fresh eyes.
She sees flaws in her original plan. Weaknesses she hadn't even thought of.
And Jennifer Jareau has never been anything less than perfect.
She pulls out a new notebook and starts again, this time vowing to be more careful.
But there is a tug on her conscience that wasn't there the first time.
She tries to push it away.
Forces herself to focus.
And she returns to the plan.
One day, she is out buying groceries when someone stops her.
Even a month ago, leaving the house to buy groceries was out of the question. Her story has been blasted through countless media outlets. She's a household name now.
Yet, she's still never felt so invisible.
'It's so good to see you can forgive and forget. You are an example to us all.' A man insists.
JJ runs home, her groceries abandoned.
Forgiveness? That's something she's not sure she will ever be capable of.
But forgetting?
What should she forget? Should she forget sitting around Saturday mornings watching cartoons? Should she forget that the best things about this miserable world were no longer a part of it? Forget that he…the betrayal?
No, there would be no forgetting.
Only revenge.
It's Henry's birthday.
Or at least it should have been.
All she feels is rage.
Her boy is gone.
Will is gone.
And it's all his fault.
The betrayal is fresh again. It's so real she can almost taste it.
And she refuses to allow herself to wonder if he feels guilty.
His feelings shouldn't matter.
(Although they do).
She's not sure what to do with that revelation. The thought she can't even admit to herself.
Is this day as hard for him?
She hopes so.
She hopes not.
She wishes she had the answers.
So she returns to the plan with a weird taste in her mouth.
Finally, at around nine o'clock she sighs and takes a couple of sleeping pills and goes to bed for the first time in a while.
Their anniversary comes, and she isn't sure how to feel.
Because the plan is done.
The plan is perfect.
No one will ever know if she doesn't want them to. Or she can allow herself to be caught. She's planned multiple contingencies: death by police, innocent victim, and unrepentant avenger.
The problem is, she isn't sure what she wants anymore.
She can't explain this feeling inside her.
Because the hole, the pit in her heart, it's still there and just as raw as the day it happened.
But…the idea of carrying out the plan…it doesn't provide the solace it used to.
Instead, it makes her feel empty in a different way.
Can she taint Henry and Will's memory like this?
How can she not exact revenge?
She's torn. She literally feels as though she is torn in half.
Normally, she might confide in one of her friends, but she knows that if they knew she had even thought about this in detail they would try and stop her.
And that's a whole different issue entirely.
Does she want them to stop her?
She's not sure.
She closes the notebook and grabs her keys before heading out of the house to dinner.
And she hopes that the answers will come in time.
The answers never come.
Today is the anniversary of their…of his…of it.
And she thinks she knows what she wants to do.
But sitting here on the cold chair in an interrogation room at the federal prison, she can't help but question herself.
He walks in and his hands are cuffed in front of him. She smirks and wants to vomit at the same time.
How can she be so conflicted?
How can she hate him so much and feel sorry for him at the same time?
"JJ." He breaths, slinking onto the chair across from her. "I—" He sputters uncharacteristically for words. "I didn't think it was likely that you would ever come."
Her stomach recoils at the use of her nickname. Only her friends call her that. Not him. Not anymore.
"I…" She takes a deep breath and tries to sort out her jumbling thoughts. "I didn't think I would either."
They fall into an uncomfortable silence, neither knowing what to say.
She's not sure what she wants from him.
"I thought about how to kill you." She admits finally.
If he is surprised, his face doesn't show it, and she continues.
"I had it planned. How to make you hurt."
He gulps. "I am guessing that you decided against it." His eyes can't meet hers and she swears she hears a tilt of disappointment in his voice.
"Yeah." She breaths out. "They wouldn't want me to do it."
"No. They wouldn't." He agrees.
"You don't get to decide what they'd want." She spits out at him. It doesn't really make sense. He's agreeing with her. But she can't stand to ever think he knew them.
He wisely falls silent. After a moment, eventually he speaks up. "So why are you here?" His voice is small, afraid.
She frowns, because she's not sure. "I just want to know why."
The question that's haunted her for the last year. The question she doesn't know the answer to.
Little does she know, it's the one question he can't answer.
"I don't know." He replies.
"You don't know?" She spits incredulously. "You don't know why you kidnapped my son? Why you held him for ransom? Why you held my hand while your goons called and demanded I drain my life savings?"
"JJ, I—"
"No! You don't get to call me that. We are not friends Spencer Reid." She spits, the full venom spewing out of her. "My husband died trying to exchange money for my son who died anyway."
"I never meant for it to get that far. I—"
"You disgust me." JJ shoots to her feet, unable to breathe the same air as him any longer. "But I am done thinking about you. I am done wasting any part of my life even thinking of your name. I can't—I don't even care what happens to you."
"JJ, you have to forgive me." He pleads. "You can't blame me any more than I blame myself."
She laughs, and its as if the clouds around her are finally lifting. Like finally she can see this all for what it is.
Utter betrayal. A tragedy that is completely his fault.
"I can blame you, and I do." She moves around the table and stalks toward the door without a backward glance. "But you won't hear from me again. Because I'm done."
"JJ—"
"Goodbye."
It takes a lot longer to get to a place where she can even think about her time in the FBI without wanting to punch someone.
But she gets there.
And, eventually she can separate Spence from Spencer Reid, inmate 26541.
But she in no way forgets.
And maybe, maybe that's what forgiveness really is.
At least she hopes so.
Because that's all she can do.
THE END