Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Criminal Minds. If I did things would be different.

Rating: M for self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide, and sexual situations later on.

Summary: A serial killer in JJ's home town triggers an addiction that could easily kill her. What happens when Emily discovers the addiction? Will she be able to help? Will JJ and Emily admit their feelings for each other?

A/N: I am well aware JJ grew up in East Alleghany in Pennsylvania but I have never been there and I like to actually know the setting of the town I am writing my story in. So, this will take place somewhere I actually know. Also, no Henry or Will in this story.

A/N 2: Self harm and suicide are very serious matters, I myself am a recovering self-harmer. Some parts of this story may be triggering, you have been warned.

National Veterans Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

S.A.F.E. at 1-800-DONTCUT (366-8288)

A/N 3: This is just a quick short prologue of the story. The next chapter will be when they are getting the case. Reviews are love. :)

Prologue

It was never supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be better, you were supposed to have recovered. That's what you tell yourself as you lay on the hotel bed, curled up on your right side with your right arm hanging off the bed. Small drops of blood are falling from a wound you never bothered to cover. A wound you yourself created. Why? Why? You scream in your head, begging yourself to create a damn good answer. Why again? Why somewhere they could all see? Why so deep? A frown and you correct yourself harshly; this is no where near as deep as some. The one on your thigh where you tried to kill yourself all those years ago now that is deep. This is nothing, nothing you can't handle.

Get a hold of yourself! You've been screaming in your own head during this entire case. You have to get up, you have to clean the blood from the floor, you have to shower. Dead eyes catch the time on the clock as you lift yourself slowly from the bed. 0100. The team will need you by 0730. That's enough time to clean the blood from the hotel room floor and yourself of course. You could even run to the Wal-Mart just out of town and buy a long sleeve shirt and a bandage for the wound. Yes, Wal-Mart. It's the only store around open so late... Er... Early? You hate yourself right now for not bringing any long sleeve shirts with you, you hate this town for being so humid and horrible in the summer, and you hate the unsub for choosing this small town to murder in.

Why this town? Hamburg, New Jersey was your home town. Back before everything went down hill. This town couldn't handle a serial killer, the pain that came with it.. Or maybe they could. Maybe they would band together and help each other make it through. You remember at least fifteen people in poor Ms. Foley's house when you went to visit her. They were all mourning the death of Elizabeth her daughter, a girl you practically grew up with. Hotch had suggested you take this case off, but you just couldn't do that. These people would trust the team more with you there. Regardless of your emotional attachment, you had to be there. You can remember hanging out with Elizabeth, Lizzie as she preferred, Carlie, and your cousin Annalie when you were young. You remember your little cousin Sibyla, Sib as everyone refers to her, playing with Lizzie's younger sister Hayley and Kaitlyn's younger siblings Jeremy, Matthew, and Lilach. They were... are... triplets, just a year older than Sib. You remember barbeques and camp outs and catching firefly's in Old Mrs. Block's yard at night. You remember those people were your family. You miss those days, you can't believe Lizzie is gone.

You are more emotionally invested in this than you will admit. Lizzie was your first love. Tall, dark, and gorgeous. Black hair and stunning green eyes with the perfect soft skin. She was the first person to ever break your heart and put it back together again. You knew everything about her, she meant everything to you. She knew less about you though, by then things had already gotten bad for you. You can remember her begging you to stop, you can remember her by your bedside the night you put yourself in the hospital.

You remember too much.

A voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you jump, hiding your arm behind your back and scanning the floor. The blood is still there, you can still feel your wrist dripping blood, now absorbing into the back of your white tank top. Finally your eyes meet the person speaking and you cam feel the fear, the panic, shutting you down. When she asks what will you say? When she begs for an answer how will you tell her? When she tries to help will you pull away or will you let her help? You see her mouth moving, her face shows worry. But what is she saying? You don't know, you can't tell. Why didn't you learn to read lips better? Tune into her! You yell at yourself, you know she's growing more concerned with every question you don't answer.

Wait, how did she get in here? You can't remember opening the door for her, you don't remember calling her or making any sound that would make her think she needed to check on you. Why is she here? Did you scream, did you make too much noise? You could ask her, you just can't seem to get the words out. You still can't hear what she's saying, maybe she's already explained why she's here. What must it look like from her perspective? What does it look like for you to be standing here totally clueless of what she's talking about. God you must look so stupid. Stop staring at her damnit! Say something! Like what? She's going to think you're an idiot. You just know she will.

"Why?" Finally, you finally hear her say something.

But... Why? Why what? Why did you hurt yourself? Why didn't you stop the bleeding? Why? Be more specific! You want to scream at her, push her away and beg her for help all at the same time. You want to respond somehow. How? How? You can't think of a response. Maybe you did respond because you see her face twist in fear, pain. You yelled at her. Why would you yell at her? How could you yell at someone you love? Someone you are in love with? Suddenly you are in her arms and she's rubbing your back. Her hand clasps around your wrist and you hear yourself whimper. It hurts, you know that much. She has your wrist in her hand and she's trying to stop the bleeding. It hurts. You can tell she is relieved the bleeding isn't as bad as it could be. Its like when you leave the sink on just a bit and water drips slowly from the faucet. Yeah... Compare your wrist to a sink that's wonderful. If she could hear you comparing your wound to a faucet she'd smile, maybe just a little.

You love her smile, you especially love her smile on the rare occassions that it reaches her chocolatey brown eyes. Right now though, the only thing in her eyes is concern. Pity. You hate it. You don't want her to pity you, you've had enough of that over the years.

How will you explain this to her? She'll want an explanation. She'll be another Lizzie. She'll hate you. You have to find a way to explain. You have to find a way to make her understand. You just have to...

A/N: I should probably tell you not all the chapters will be written in the tense this one was written. I simply wrote the prologue in this tense because it's well... the prologue.