This is a companion piece to Battered, it's set between chapter 4 and 5, showing a little more of how JJ got the bad news and how she tells Bryan.

Summary: When something bad happens you can do one of three things. You can either let it define you, let it destroy you or you can let it strengthen you.

Bad news was something I was used to. Maybe it wasn't exactly how things were supposed to go but I'd been living in some kind of a hell for at least a year, if not longer. I still hadn't decided.

There wasn't anything that could prepare me for the worst news of all though. Sometimes I thought that the worst news would be hearing that my mother had passed away, but that fortunately hadn't happened yet and so at this moment, the bad news that I had been dreading was worse than I had expected.

I had been waiting for the call all day. I had given Lauren, my gynecologist, all of my phone numbers and had been staring at both my work phone and my mobile phone all day, just waiting.

Luckily I worked alone most of the time, especially after I had asked Hotch to stay home whenever they would have to travel more than an hour by car.

A week ago I had been afraid to hear good news. I wanted to have babies, but never had I wanted to have babies with Bryan. The fact that he had been content without kids had relaxed me enough to have been surprised to hear that he wanted them. And then he pushed.

My mind went back to that exam, when Lauren had told me that she wanted to do more tests to be sure, but she had stumbled onto a lot of scar tissue and she was almost certain that I wouldn't be able to carry a child to term.

It had hit me harder than anything Bryan could've done and it had surprised me. I hadn't thought of having kids of my own for a long time and I think that was because I couldn't imagine having to raise a baby with Bryan.

I bit my lip as I stared at my phones again, and actually jumped when my iPhone buzzed and lit up. It was the doctor's office, and I took a deep breath as I slid my finger over the screen.

"Jennifer Jareau."

"Jennifer, it's Lauren. Are you able to come in today?" She sounded professional and it didn't tell me anything. I wasn't a profiler like the team, and even though I needed some of those skills I didn't know how to use them on the phone.

"I don't think so. Would you be able to tell me over the phone?" I asked, my throat tight around the words. She was silent for a moment but then hummed.

"As long as you're okay with that I can make an exception today. Are you ready?" she asked and I hummed as I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. They were already burning, somehow my body knew it was going to be bad news. I felt shaky. "As I told you earlier in the week I found excessive scar tissue and the tests were just to confirm what I already suspected."

"Yes, what did the tests say, Lauren?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too snappy or even emotional. I had been having a hard time even keeping my emotions straight at work and I couldn't let her know that this was going to hurt me more than anything that had ever happened to me.

"We ran the tests a couple of times and I...I regret to inform you that without surgery, you won't be able to get pregnant without risking your life and that of the baby."

A tear slipped down my face but I wiped it away quickly. "So was this what you'd expected?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"For the most part, yes. The...I know at this moment this might not sound as good news but the surgery could give you a chance, and if you ever decide you want to have that surgery...you might be able to conceive and carry to term without trouble."

"What are the chances?"

"The chances are that you could carry a baby to term without dying, or you could not. The fact that this is a rather new procedure makes it hard to say what could happen though and all I can tell you is that it might give you a chance." She sounded sad, and I cleared my throat as more tears ran down my cheeks.

"Thank you doctor."

"I'm sorry Jennifer. I wish I had better news. Take care."

I put my phone down on my desk and leaned forward, putting my head on my arms. Tears flowed freely now and I bit my lip to stop from full out sobbing.

I didn't know how to stop myself from falling apart but I knew I would have to. I couldn't keep crying even though I just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry all day.

I forced the tears back. It wasn't that big of a deal, I told myself. But it didn't help—in fact, it only made it worse. I would never experience the joy of finding out I was pregnant, or feel my baby kick. I would never be able to say that the pain of labor would be gone the moment you held your baby in your arms for the first time.

If I hadn't been set on leaving Bryan before, I was now. He had caused this, he had made it so that I wouldn't be able to have a baby. And I hated him for it, even more than the week before when I hadn't even been sure what would change.

Everything had changed.

I made it home in one piece after having pushed aside my feelings once again to get through the rest of my day.

Bryan was home already, probably because I had told him that I would get some answers today and he was excited to start working on that baby he had in mind. I reveled in the fact that I would be able to tell him that I wouldn't be able to get pregnant, even though the fact alone brought tears to my eyes.

I knew it would affect me more than it would him, because he could find someone else, he could find another way and I would be childless my entire life.

He sat at the kitchen table, dinner was on the stove and once again I felt my eyes burn at the sight of him. It had happened more often lately, my head had been preparing for bad news and my heart had been distancing itself from it, but seeing him always made me angry and sad at the same time.

"How are you? Did you hear from your doctor?" he asked as I walked into the kitchen. I nodded my head and blinked back the tears but he saw. "Bad news?"

"Um...yea. She told me that I couldn't...I can't conceive," my voice was soft and scratchy and he frowned at me. "She said that I have too much scar tissue to carry a baby to term. If I do get pregnant it will kill me and the baby."

"So you can conceive? You just can't survive it?" He shook his head and I wiped at my eyes. "That's just great."

He was angry, and I glared at him. "Considering the fact that I just heard that I can't have kids, ever, and it's because of the beatings you gave me, yea. That's just fucking great."

I was angry. I was hurt and angry and I could feel the heat bubbling up. My anger might even be stronger than his, but my body wasn't.

He jumped up, his mouth set in a snarl and before I could step back, he had me in his grip. His hands were like vices around my arms and he glared down at me.

"Are you blaming me for your failure?" he growled and I realized it was too late to back track. He shook me when I didn't answer and I shook my head. "What!"

"No, I'm sorry I even suggested—I'm not blaming you," I stuttered out and he growled again before he pushed me against the wall. The air left my lungs and I gasped for it.

"Whatever you may think, it's not my fault that you're a failure and a freak of nature that can't fucking conceive. If you want to blame anyone, you blame yourself!"