AN: Considerably updated in January 2019. Many thanks to Greeneyedconstellations for all her work beta'ing this piece.

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Chapter 1:
New Beginnings

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JJ had heard all the horror stories about college roommates and, as such, she fully expected hers to have one of the following character failings: a compulsive drug habit, aggressively repulsive hygiene, or very possibly membership in a Satanist cult with regular Saturday meetings in their dorm. Blood sacrifice optional. Or, perhaps even worse than spending the next three years scrubbing goat blood out of the carpets, there was every possibility her roomie could be a crazy health nut who'd glare every time she brought something guaranteed to shorten her life-span home to eat, and she really didn't need that kind of judgement in her life.

Somehow, as JJ stared around her new room and took in all the everything that was already in there, she realised that her actual roommate was going to exceed every one of her terrifying expectations of strangeness, and then some.

Computer gear littered one side of the narrow room, surrounded by piles of half unpacked bags filled with colourful clothes and novelty pens. A stuffed lion stared beadily at her from atop what looked like a stack of Harlequin romance novels, the pages worn thin from repeated readings. Most alarmingly, there was a truly astounding collection of what appeared to be bobble-headed animals of every possible variety lined up along one of the desks, right below a shelf of blankly smiling troll dolls of every colour ever. They stared right back at JJ as she took all this in and wondered how she'd fit in among it.

JJ pulled her bulging soccer bag close, glancing up at the gilded number on the door to make sure it was the correct room. It was, even though it looked like a ninety's dollar store had gotten romantic with an internet café and this was the unholy outcome. Better or worse than satanic rituals?

She had a feeling she was going to find out.

Muffled grunting echoed from the floor space across the room, the grunter hidden by the twin beds. With a thin hope that she wasn't about to interrupt her roommate having sex—with the door open? Really? —JJ stepped forward and planted her feet hard as she went. Just like how her dad had taught her to hike if she thought there were snakes around: stomping to startle them. After all, her parents would be right behind her, ready to see her settled in, and she really didn't want them to walk in on the miracle of college dorms.

The grunts stopped, and she cleared her throat before speaking. "Um, hello? I think this is my room?"

Two heads popped up and stared at her: one female and blonde with thick-framed, luminescent purple glasses and the other male with sweaty dark skin and an irritated expression. With a shout of delight at the sight of JJ, the blonde head bounced up to reveal what was attached to it: an array of colour that JJ had to blink to focus on, tallying at least five different sets of clattering beads before she was engulfed in an excited, vanilla scented hug.

"Oh my gosh, it's you!" was shrieked, the beads rattling enthusiastically along with her flailing arms. "I'm Penelope! We're roomies!"

JJ's new roommate didn't appear to need to breathe between shrieks, not until she released JJ and took a tiny step back with her chest heaving to catch on up oxygenating the rest of her. This close, JJ could count the specks of glitter in her vivid blue eyeshadow as her roommate flung an arm back to gesture towards the guy, who was now standing with a long plank of wood resting in his arms. "And this muscled hunk of love is Derek. I found myself being struck by an IKEA malfunction, and he volunteered to be my glorious knight in glistening armour."

JJ took a moment to breathe and take in the 'glistening knight' who was… something. Something definitely muscled and now smiling as he looked at her, earning a blush as she tried not to look like the dorkiest person alive while stammering: "I'm Jennifer, I mean just, uh, just JJ. You can call me just JJ."

Derek dropped the wood onto the bed where a thick covering of stuffed toys muffled the impact, sticking his arm out to shake her hand. When she accepted, his grip was just the right amount of firm.

Her hands were sweaty.

Fuck.

"Hi, just JJ. Nice bag, you play soccer?"

JJ leapt into a familiar topic, grateful for the chance to move away from how deep and dizzying his voice was. "Yeah, captain in senior year. You?"

"Football, but I've played a bit of soccer in my time. I'm bad at it, though. Real bad, like you wouldn't believe—you'd cream me."

There was a loud groan and Penelope covered her mouth with her hands in mock horror. "Sports! You guys are both sporty, I'm outnumbered! My entire college life is going to be spent listening to you both bond over sports!"

Derek laughed at the tragic expression on Penelope's face. "Baby Girl, if you promise to make more of those cupcakes you lured me in here with, I'll talk about whatever you want me to."

Penelope beamed. "Baby Girl, huh?"

A Tupperware container of baked-goods suddenly materialized under JJ's nose, their delicious buttery scent making her mouth water as it registered she hadn't eaten since East Allegheny. There was a rumble from her stomach as she sheepishly took one.

"It's a long drive from Pennsylvania," she explained, almost apologetic about the noise. Good work, JJ, she thought. Here five minutes and they're already feeding you sympathy cupcakes.

The thought of sympathy cupcakes vaporised her hunger and turned the rich taste of the cupcakes to dust in her mouth. She choked it down anyway, not wanting to be rude and hoping they hadn't noticed her sudden misery. Packing up her childhood room had left her whole family feeling raw.

Her parents arrived behind her, arguing with a kind of marital cheer about the drive home. The argument paused as they took in the exuberant appearance of their daughter's new roommate and the room itself, which was still liberally decorated with Penelope's half unpacked bags in an explosion of personality.

"You must be Mr and Mrs JJ," Penelope said. "I'm Penelope, and I'll be looking after your daughter for the duration of her college education, or this semester, at least. I begin with cupcakes!" She emphasized the last word by offering the container to JJ's dad, who immediately brightened and took one with a delighted glance at JJ that said 'I like this one'. JJ's mom shook her head in exasperation at her husband. JJ sighed. Her mom had always said that Dad was ruled by his stomach, and here was irrevocable proof.

But, if Penelope's intention with the cupcakes had been to win over her new roommate's family and smooth the transition, it worked. The following hour went without a hitch. Penelope pitched in to help JJ and her mom unpack, exclaiming over the more colourful fragments of JJ's wardrobe. Derek had used a charming grin to rope JJ's dad into helping with the cupboard, the two of them now arguing over the positioning of the pieces. JJ glanced at the instructions but decided that the boys appeared to be having fun as they were, without any input from either her or the forgotten manual. And only once did she catch her mom getting teary-eyed as she folded clothes into a drawer.

"Rosaline would have loved to see this," her mom whispered, her gaze skittering warily across to Penelope. Penelope looked up with her eyes wide behind her bright glasses, before excusing herself and stepping back to point out that one of the panels Derek was slotting into place was backwards. JJ hugged her mom tight, silently thanking her new roommate for letting them have this moment.

Maybe college wouldn't be so bad after all.

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Only a month into the semester and the work was already getting Aaron down, even as he watched his girlfriend study, tapping her pen against her lip as she went. He loved when she got frustrated while studying, the way she'd scrunch her face in annoyance and huff a little bit, like making those noises would help in some way. It sure helped him. He couldn't help but grin at her, hiding the smile so she didn't turn that frustration in his direction as she accused him of delighting in her pain again.

"Problem?" he finally asked, nudging her foot with his shoe.

Haley sighed and dropped the pen onto her book, looking around. The area around the lawn they were slumped on teemed with students laughing and chatting together, everyone around them relaxing and enjoying the last heat of the afternoon sun before fall really kicked in.

"Guess this wasn't the best place to try and study," she said. Giving up completely, she leaned back and tossed her hair with a flick of her head.

Aaron enjoyed the sight for a moment before reaching down and taking the book, paging through the first chapter and pulling a face. "Serves you right for studying history," he said. "I mean unless you plan on being unemployed for the rest of your life…" Only his catlike skills helped him avoid the pen she threw at him.

"Oh, because law is so interesting," she retorted. Catlike skills not quite enough this time, he didn't dodge her grabbing her book back and smacking him gently with the corner. "Besides, you'll be plenty successful for the both of us and I'll, I don't know, teach. Maybe."

Gesturing to the book, he shrugged. "We covered most of that in high school. It's not so hard."

Haley rolled her eyes and her mouth turned upwards at the corner, a tantalizing prospect for him. It would be so easy to derail this entire conversation just by leaning over and settling his own mouth right there on his favourite spot—with a jolt, he realized that she was still talking and tried to look like he'd been paying attention. "You covered it, maybe. I had better things to do than spend my days reading about dead guys."

"Like theatre? Practising to be a pirate?" Aaron said, now thinking of her costume and how her tights had looked and, wow, he really needed to get laid soon because his brain was really on a one-way track right now. "Now that's a career prospect I can get behind. You be Captain, I'll be your coxswain, and together we'll be the terror of the ocean. I'll be the first pirate to pass the Bar, that'll be something to tell the kids."

Haley laughed, face flushed with what he suspected was more than just the heat. Maybe he wasn't the only one on that one-way track right back to whichever of their dorm rooms was emptiest. "You should be more grateful for theatre. I mean, it brought us together." Much to his delight, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. Even after two years together, his heart still skipped when she kissed him. "Unless you'd prefer I'd spent that time instead learning what thing the Kennedy Brothers were both the first to do…?"

Aaron declined to answer that, instead choosing to lean into her and deepen the kiss, wrapping his arm around her back and pulling her close.

They weren't so far from the dorms.

A shadow fell over their plans right before a bag thumped resolutely onto the ground near Haley's leg. Aaron jumped, his nose bumping Haley's cheek and eyes watering at the unexpected impact.

"Marilyn Monroe," the shadow said. It flopped onto the grass and revealed itself to be David Rossi, Aaron's long-time best friend and now roommate, and Haley's 'nemesis', as he liked to call himself. Aaron wished he wouldn't. Their bickering really wasn't as funny as Dave pretended it was, even as he beamed at them and helped himself to their leftover lunch.

"What?" Haley asked, now frowning. She was always polite to Dave, but there were clues to the animosity there. Subtle clues that only a sharp mind like Aaron's could pick up on. Like her flat out informing him over pastrami that, "I really hate David." Also, how she groaned every time he came up in conversation. Which was probably a lot, really, if Aaron was being completely honest. Dave was hard to ignore.

"The thing the Kennedy Brothers were both the first to do," Dave clarified. "Answer being: one salacious seduction of the gorgeous Miss Marilyn Monroe."

Aaron tried to choke back a laugh and ended up spluttering instead. Haley rolled her eyes before shoving him away and standing, snatching her book out of Dave's hand and earning a pout from the guy.

"I'll see you after class, Aaron," she said. They watched in silence as she stalked off and left Aaron with the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that he'd just hurt her feelings, somehow. Torn between running after her or staying and talking to his friend, Aaron bit at his lip and worried.

"You know, I get the feeling your girlfriend doesn't like me," Dave said. "I can't see why. I am the goddamn light of your life."

"Bane of my existence, maybe," Aaron corrected him. "She thinks my friends are immature, and she's probably right about you."

Dave snorted. "She just doesn't like that I leave my underwear out in the dorm." At the reminder, Aaron vividly recalled the last time Haley had gone to pick up her bag and found that it had been resting on a pair of his roommate's briefs. Probably worn.

Almost certainly worn.

That had not been a fun day for any of them.

"Well, you know, I'm not overjoyed about that either," he said. "It's only a matter of time before one of us gets them mixed up, and I'm not ready to commit to wearing another guy's underwear. No matter how improbably expensive the brand."

He realized he was talking to himself, Dave's gaze having shifted to a knot of people across the square from them. Aaron turned to squint in that direction, blinking against the glaring sunlight in his eyes. He could just see a couple of guys crowding around a much smaller figure as it backed up against a wall.

"Isn't that the kid from our dorm?" Dave asked. "The genius one that Morgan pays to edit his homework?"

It was too far away for them to see clearly, but Aaron had a feeling he was right since he doubted anyone else on campus was as small as the sixteen-year-old Dave was referring to. Someone near the kid put their arm out, possibly to help him, but probably not.

"No idea," Aaron said. The muscles of his jaw tightened in anger. It wasn't really any of their business, but the kid was sixteen at the most. Aaron wouldn't put money on was what happening over there being a friendly chat with an unaccompanied minor.

"Let's take a wander over there," Dave said. "You know, just to have a mosey about. Knock some heads together."

As they jogged towards the group, Aaron half-hoped that he wasn't about to end up in yet another fight. Haley had barely forgiven him for the last time. Although he was also half-hoping he was because the fuck kind of college-aged so-called adult intimidated a sixteen-year-old kid?

And he already knew that if there was one hair out of place on the kid, Haley was going to be really pissed off with him for what happened next.

Oh well.

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Emily Prentiss was not having a good day. She'd spilt coffee on her favourite shirt, been late to her pol-sci 101 lecture, not managed to forget her mom's birthday, and now some pain-in-the-ass kid was in her way.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't the best idea to try and score off the sleaziest guy on campus, but these were desperate times. She had been succeeding beautifully in her plan to convince her mother to stay the hell out of her life so far and this would have been the final nail in the maternal coffin. She'd be kicked out so fast, she doubted her ass would even touch the floor. Kicked out, cut off, no more diplomat's daughter and finally free to be whoever the hell she wanted to be. No more tedious Sunday dinners, no more stupid functions, no more acting the socialite to earn parental validation. It'd be like when Mom was away on business, but permanent. Didn't that sound blissful?

And all she needed were some drugs. Whatever the scare flavour of the month was.

Simple, right?

And she had no intention of using them, honestly. Spencer had no need to be getting so sore over the whole thing, appearing suddenly between her and Sommets and scaring the hell out of them both.

Then he'd gotten mouthy, and it had all just gone to shit.

Right now, the kid was glaring in an apparent attempt to intimidate Sommets by staring him down. Maybe it would have worked if he wasn't two feet shorter and dressed in an oversized sweater and corduroy trousers that were tattered around the ankles from being stepped on.

"Spencer, get out of here," she snapped. The little idiot was going to end up getting his ass kicked if he kept up smart-mouthing the older guys. They didn't give a shit that he was only sixteen and too stupid to realize how much trouble he was in, or how much she didn't deserve him sticking his neck out for her. Sommets's two buddies moved in closer, cutting off the view of the square behind them. Her heart thumped dully in her chest, vividly aware that this could end with both her and the mini genius getting their faces made intimate with the cobblestone under their feet.

"Opiate overdoses cause an estimated sixty-nine thousand deaths a year," Spencer rattled off, eyes terrified behind his coke-bottle thick glasses. When he was scared, he talked ridiculously fast and barely bothered stopping to breathe. A learned habit, which made her heart ache a bit to think about. Some stone-cold bitch she was, getting mopey over a tiny weirdo in an argyle sweater. "In high doses, it can cause respiratory depression and death, not to mention the numerous maladaptive side-effects caused by addiction."

Sommets stared at Spencer with his face twisted in confusion and hands bunched into fists. Emily could see the situation spiralling out of control in the way his knuckles were going white from tension. "Is this kid for real, Prentiss?"

Spencer took a step forward, straightening from where he'd been hunching in on himself. His eyes met hers as he flat out ignored the other people there and kept babbling: "Besides, the quality of product you'll get from this guy is obviously negligible. If it were any good, he'd use it himself instead of selling it. Not worth letting yourself get groped over."

Something in her gut twisted. He was here because he'd seen Sommets grab her ass, not because he was trying to stop her from buying a hit. It was the sweetest and most stupid thing anyone had ever done for her and she wanted to hug the little shit for it.

Sommets hissed with anger and swung his fist at the back of Spencer's head. Emily saw the movement and stepped in, letting his fist thump hard against her gut and knock the air out of her. Wheezing, she bent in two as Spencer stumbled back with shock.

Maybe he thought that no one would dare hit a kid and that's what had given him the balls to stand up for me, she thought dully as she struggled to catch her breath, unable to tell him to get the fuck out of there.

Holy fuck, he's actually insane, she decided moments later as a flailing windmill of arms and legs slammed into Sommets. What the kid lacked in style or skill, he sure as hell made up for in heart. He seemed to have no plan beyond smacking at as many parts of Sommets as he could reach as fast as he could reach them. To his credit, it appeared to be working.

Of course, she also wasn't overly surprised when Sommets recovered from his surprise and promptly laid him out with one punch.

Oh god, I hope that was his glasses, she thought, closing her eyes. There had been a visceral crunch as face had met ground, and she wasn't quite sure that she'd be able to live with the guilt if it had been his face.

After all, glasses could be replaced. Faces? Not so much.

It was about then that she realised it was time to end this. She couldn't fight off three pissed off guys, but she did have one weapon. Breathless still but hoping her voice sounded titillating and not winded, she stepped forward and laid a hand on Sommets arm.

"Come on, baby," she murmured, feeling ill. It was bizarrely mortifying that Spencer was watching this. She'd slept with Sommets before, but she'd been drunk and stupid and it hadn't been an experience she'd ever planned on repeating. He was all tongue and questionable hygiene. "You don't need to worry about some asshole kid, we can do business somewhere else. Somewhere private."

Hey, she could at least rationalise this away. There were all the guys she'd brought home to piss off her mother after all; that was probably a worse reason for sex than saving a teenager from a non-consensual facial reconstruction.

Sommets turned to her, sneering despite his gaze dropping to her chest. "Gotta teach the brat—"

She never did find out what he planned to 'teach the brat' because, right at that moment, there was a rush of air past her ear and a fist slammed into Sommets's face, shortly followed by the rest of the person attached to that fist. And she'd never been quite so glad to see someone get punched. Emily stumbled back as the two guys hit the ground in a flurry of fists. One of Sommets's goons stepped forward to try and pull the newcomer off but a second guy, this one dark-haired and broad with a grim expression, stepped between them.

"You might want to fuck off," he warned them, "because my girlfriend has gone for security, and you really don't want them to find what we all know you're carrying."

There was a wet sounding cough and Spencer sat up, one hand holding his shattered frames and the other pressed against his face. Her heart gave a funny sort of skip when she realized that there was blood oozing out from around his fingers, one eye swelling.

"Oh man, Spencer," she groaned, kneeling next to him. "I told you to leave."

He shook his head, wiping the back of his hand under his nose and smearing blood grotesquely across his face. Reaching into her pockets for a cloth to try and wipe it off, she found nothing but her purse and keys. Beside them, Cranky was watching silently as his companion pinned Sommets to the ground and spat abuse at him in mixed Italian and French that Emily understood but Sommets almost certainly didn't.

Cranky glanced at her, then past her at the kid dripping blood down his sweater, before looking at Emily. "I wasn't kidding about security, by the way. They'll be here soon if you'd prefer not to be."

Anger bubbled up in Emily at his words. This asshole probably assumed she was one of Sommets' junkie friends, judging her because of her clothes and makeup.

He must have noticed her furious expression. "I wasn't implying anything," he stated mildly. She hated him at that moment. Urgh. Dick.

"Like hell you weren't," she snapped back. "That jerk punched me in the gut, why wouldn't I want to report that? And look what he did to Spencer's face!"

He shrugged, raising a single eyebrow in a wry expression. She wanted to slap it off his kind of cute face. Almost cute. Shut up, Emily, she thought wildly. The fuck he is. "I don't know your reasoning. Maybe for the same reason that the kid just took off."

Emily whipped around, finding the area behind her empty except for a few pieces of glass glinting on the asphalt among a light smattering of blood. "Ah hell," she said, thinking of the time she'd woken Spencer up to help her with a quiz and how useless and blind he'd been before he'd managed to find his glasses. Without even a cursory glance towards the Cranky or his friend perched atop Sommets and loudly questioning the dealer's parentage, she jogged off in the direction she assumed Spencer had gone. After all, the kid had taken a punch to the face for her honour. The least she could do would be to get him back to the dorm and clean him up. It wasn't like she was looking out for him or anything.

Emily Prentiss didn't look out for anyone.