Disclaimer: Naturally I do not own Criminal Minds. I wish I did, then I could have JJ/Emily in more than just my imagination and other people's fanfics.
Author's Notes: Hi everyone, so after a long time I have decided to turn this into a story. It will follow JJ and Emily's relationship as it changes from colleagues and friends to, well, more. It will also follow their journey as they attempt to beat Emily's depression and self-injury.
Previously:
"Kiss me." At first I'm not sure if I said it aloud because she doesn't move. Then she slowly raises her eyes to meet mine and a hint of a smile touches her soft pink lips. She learns forward and catches my lips with her own. I shut my eyes and let my mouth move with hers, losing myself to the feeling. I don't know how much time has passed before we break apart. For the first time, ever, I feel hope.
"I believe you, JJ. We can do this."
JJ takes my hand in hers, ignoring the blood and tears that have mingled on my hands, and squeezes it gently. I wondered, briefly, if she thought this would be easy, if she was one of those people who thought recovering from self-injury was as simple as taking the blade from the cutter.
"Let me see what you've done this time, Em, so I can help you fix it." JJ requests, her eyes searching my arms and finding no fresh wounds, bar those from this morning. A nervous giggle bubbles up in my throat and escapes before I can smother it.
"No offense, JJ, but I don't think we're quite at the pants off stage yet." I say it in a teasing tone, trying to be humorous to hide my anxious fear. "Besides, I know how to clean up my own messes. You shouldn't see what you don't have to."
"Nice try, Em, but we both know I'm not stupid enough to leave you alone right now, and since you clearly need first aid, and I'm here, I'm going to help." I sigh and squirm uncomfortably on the counter top that I'm still perched on. JJ just looks at me, patient but determined. I know a losing battle when I see one, but it's just so awkward. I bite my lower lip anxiously, considering my options. I could do as she says, but the thought terrifies me, or I could be stubborn and refuse. My inner profiler tells me that would be a bad idea, not only would it even further limit JJ's trust in me, but it would make things harder than they needed to be. I gently eased my pj pants down so they rested mid-thigh and closed my eyes. I may have to let her see my scar ravaged body but I did not have to look at her, did not have to see the disgust in her eyes. A sharp intake of breath, quickly stifled, told me she'd seen the mess of blood and scar tissue. A stubborn tear leaked down my cheek, shame flooding my body and I yanked my pjs back up, opening my eyes but not looking at her.
"Forget it, I can do it myself." I jumped off the counter, wincing in pain but trying not to show it.
"Em-" JJ started, but I couldn't let her finish, couldn't handle hearing what I knew she was going to say.
"It's fine, I'm fine. Just go back to your room, JJ. I'll still be here in the morning." tears were flowing more freely now, but I kept my face turned away from her so she couldn't see.
"Em, that's not -" she tried again, but again I cut her off.
"Go, JJ, please. I can fix this myself."
"Emily, sit your ass down and let me help you!" JJ snapped. Startled, I turned around to see a pair of determined blue eyes that held a hint of anger but no disgust. Silently I slipped back onto the counter top and again pulled my pj pants to reveal the still bleeding wounds. With a calm efficiency JJ opened the first aid kit and set to work. She quickly had my first leg under control, cleaned and bandaged up nicely, but she looked uncertainly from the first aid kit to my second leg and then met my eyes.
"There's a second first aid kit in my go bag." I said quietly. "Just in case..." I trailed off, my own eyes taking in the depleted contents of the original kit. JJ nodded and quickly retrieved my bag, rummaging around for the second kit.
"It's right at the bottom. I can get it if you like." I offered, hoping she would say yes. I didn't want her finding my other kit, the self-injury kit, on her search for the first aid kit.
"It's fine, I found it." She smiled at me and waved the small red box at me. Relieved that my source of blades had not been discovered I returned her smile and lent my head back against the mirror. I don't know what I would have done if JJ had found the self-injury kit. Or rather, I do know. I would have panicked and needed it just to calm down, and then tomorrow I would have gone and purchased more...equipment.
"Done. You can pull your pants up now." JJ said, startling me back into reality. I glanced down at my legs, noting the neat bandages and the cool feel of disinfectant cream. I also noted that despite JJ's claim that I could pull my pants up, she was making no effort to remove her hand from my thigh.
"Um, thanks." I coughed awkwardly, and shifted my weight just enough to get her to move her hand. Not that I didn't want it there, it just wasn't good timing. I didn't want her thinking I was only using her for comfort while I was upset. I didn't want her thinking I was easy, either. But I also didn't want to push her away, so as soon as I'd pulled my pants up I caught her hand in mine, pretending to need help to slither down from the counter, and conveniently failing to let go of her hand once I was back on the ground. Not that she complained.
"You know I'm going to have to talk to Hotch tomorrow. Maybe the day after at the latest." Okay, so not what I wanted to hear! I gulped back my fear and forced my eyes to meet hers.
"No. Not if it's about this." I gestured to myself with my free hand.
"Em, I don't have a choice. He knows something's up. Heck, we all have, for ages, we just haven't been able to get you to trust us enough to let us help you!"
"Because it's my problem, not theirs! It doesn't impact work, my job performance hasn't slipped, so they don't need to know!" God damnit I was crying again. Oh well, better crying than cutting. Although...no, I couldn't let my mind go there. It would only prove her point.
"Look, Em, you can come with me to talk to him if you like. Or I can go alone. Either way, it has to happen. He needs to know. I doubt anything major will happen, he looks after us too well for that. Look at Reid, he had a substance abuse problem and Hotch didn't take him off the team! He just needs to know so he can help you." JJ took my free hand in hers, clasping both my hands in her own.
"But, JJ..." I trailed off. There was nothing I could say. She was right, even if I didn't want Hotch to know, JJ had to tell him. If something happened and I died, JJ needed to have told someone, otherwise she could get reprimanded for not having passed on vital information.
"Fine. Whatever. But I don't want to be there." I knew I could not handle seeing his expression on finding out that tough, independent Emily cried like a baby and cut herself. I could imagine it well enough.
"Okay, I'll talk to him when we're back at the office. You can stay with Garcia while I talk to him, hopefully I can get us both a few days off to start your recovery." That sounded good, well, most of it did.
"Or I could drive myself home, you could talk to him, and then I'll see you at Girl's Night with Garcia on Saturday..." I weedled, hoping she'd agree. No luck.
"Or you could stay with Garcia while I talk with Hotch and then I could take you back to my place where you will stay. We have things to work out, Miss Emily, and not just your unfortunate habit."
I glanced at her in confusion and my stomach came alive with butterflies at the meaningful look she gave me. Oh my god did she really want to have that talk already?!"
Erm, yes, I, uh, I suppose we do." I agreed awkwardly.
"Indeed. But for now let's just try to get some sleep." JJ suggested. The thought of sleep was incredibly welcomed after the emotionally draining day we'd both faced but I wasn't so sure I'd be able to sleep with how jittery and nervous I was. Regardless, I followed JJ over to the bed before stopping and gazing at her questioningly.
"Uh, JJ...maybe I should take the couch, if you're insisting on staying in here with me." I suggested, not at all sure I wanted to but feeling I should at least offer.
"Don't be stupid, Em. We've slept in the same bed before. Besides, it's your hotel room so I should be the one on the couch."
"No! I would never make you sleep on the couch!" I exclaimed before catching sight of the smirk on her face.
"I know, Em. Don't stress. Just get in bed, you goose." She teased as she slipped into the bed. I rolled my eyes and shuffled into the bed awkwardly, trying not to reopen any wounds. Despite my fears I found that sleep was hovering not so far away and I quickly succumbed to its call.
Author's Notes Again: A reviewer mentioned that self-injury and suicide are not always related, and had concerns about Emily's eligibility to work for the FBI given her self-injury. I just thought I would clarify. Yes, I know that self-injury and suicide are not always related, but no JJ is not merely freaking out. Emily is suicidal. Self-injury and suicide may not always go together but they can, and in this case do. I tried to get that across with some of the things Emily said in my former one-shot. As for her eligibility to work for the FBI...she passed the psych eval, she's trained in studying human behaviour, it's not hard for her to fake a psych eval. The physical though, with her scars, I honestly hadn't considered it, but looking at a police recruitment website (closest thing I could find) I found that yes they do ask about self-injury and so I doubt she would have gotten passed the physical. So, Emily only started cutting after joining the FBI. Before that she had alternative coping strategies but they stopped working so now she cuts.
