Disclaimer: I have absolutely nothing to do with Criminal Minds and everything attached to it.
A/N: I had to write this for a school creative writing task, and moulded it to fit JJ and Prentiss.
Fighting the Voices
It has been said many times that one's eyes are the window to their soul. When she stares at her own in the mirror they just look dead, and she can't help but wonder what that says about her.
Deep, dark brown blue eyes are frozen open, boring into themselves as if trying to figure out exactly how they could look so cold, full of self-hatred and despair. The steel gaze sucks her in, allowing the revulsion to swell in her stomach and expand as it travels up to her chest, wrapping itself around her heart and squeezing.
She dry-reaches; it's an automatic response like her subconscious thinks that if she drains her already empty stomach, the bitterness will somehow disappear also. When she whispers to herself, it's the same words over and over again, 'It heals faster if you just leave it alone!', and it's her mother's voice she hears come out of her mouth.
So far, nothing has "healed", it's just gotten worse. Her mother is wrong! Leaving it well enough alone hasn't helped in the slightest. All the "healing" has done has allowed the voices that used to just sit in the back of her mind, keeping to themselves, come back with a vengeance.
It's your fault!
You did this!
Why would you do that to the little boy?!
Many nights she has lay in bed, screaming and howling at the Voices to leave her alone. They seem to know exactly when she's breaking apart again because that's when they return; when she's vulnerable.
You're an embarrassment; a freak!
You're a failure!
Do you seriously wonder why no one loves you?
You did this! You ruined your family! Your father left because he couldn't understand why you're like this!
She grips her waist a little tighter, her arms crossed against her stomach and her nails digging into the skin there.
'Shut up, please shut up,' she whimpers.
The Voices continue, only halting when she hears the shuffling of feet from behind her. Her eyes search out the mirror, but instead of finding her eyes, she sets her gaze to just over her shoulder.
The empty doorway now has a dark figure standing there. She sucks in a breath, holding it as her eyes travel from the bare feet with fluorescent blue toenails, up the two slightly-tanned legs to the younger woman's chest. Cradled there is a small green bundle, tiny wisps of blonde hair darting out the top, refusing to be held in the comfort of the blanket.
Her eyes continue up to the woman's face; her lips are set in a small frown even as her eyes dance brightly with love for the baby boy holding onto her index finger tightly. He coos softly, bringing her attention away from the young woman and back to the baby.
His legs are kicking, trying to break free of the restraining blanket, and his left hand brings itself out of the blanket, grasping at the air and signalling to her that she's wanted.
'Come here,' the words are murmured softly and she can read them on the woman's lips better than she can hear them.
It takes more gurgling from the bundle to get her feet moving. It takes three more steps backwards before she even thinks about turning around and watching the woman and child in person, not reflection. To her credit, the younger woman doesn't move except to place some loose light hair behind her ear. The woman knows not to approach her when she's like this, knowing to wait for her to take the first move. It's only two more steps and woman and child are caught up in her embrace.
It's like they're pieces of a puzzle, finally put back together perfectly. She loves how the woman's head tucks seamlessly into the space of her neck and how her arms wrap around the woman's waist, fitting gently. She can feel tiny feet kicking against her chest and while it should give the Voices ammo to hurt her, it actually causes the swelling of dread to leave her chest; the tiny hands fisting her shirt in tiny fingers pull her back down to earth and the muffled declaration of love against the base of her throat allows her to breathe freely again.
The Voices should be back because she's completely vulnerable with woman and child, but for once they're staying away. It's surprising and scary and she hates that she doesn't fully understand why!
The declaration of love is repeated again and again against her throat, and she knows it to be the truth and not just another lie like the ones her parents always told her. Maybe the voices are wrong, because how can two people as perfect as the woman and child also be abnormal? It can't be true; it can't be possible. Her mother and the Voices must be wrong!
As she buries her head in the younger woman's blonde hair, she also breathes in, and that's when she's positive: the Voices are wrong. The woman and child are right. And if her parents don't understand then that's their problem, because she feels loved.
A/N: Let me know what you think?