No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path. - The Buddha

It takes a lot for JJ to leave Emily, but she knows she has to. If they have any chance of being rescued, she has to. After sitting by the fire and having some breakfast and some tea, at Derek's insistence, JJ excuses herself.

"Where to?" Rossi asks, and JJ almost snaps at him, but holds her tongue. She holds up the small package of Kleenex that Garcia has set down off to the side to indicate that their facilities - just a specific tree far enough away from the campsite - are available.

"Well, we're working on building up the fire. Hurry back and you can help us with it."

JJ wants to tell Rossi to build up his own damn fire, but instead, manages a short nod, and starts off down the path. Once she reaches her destination, JJ keeps walking, marking her trail with whatever she can find, so she doesn't get lost. She hates the woods with a passion, but some things just took priority. At least it's daylight now. As far as JJ's concerned, it's way better than slipping away in the dead of night to try and figure out what the hell was hurting her.

All she had on her at the time was a tiny, weak flashlight and some antiseptic, gauze and medical tape from Garcia's supply. And a single feminine product which was obviously…not from Garcia's supply. What she found had been absolutely terrifying. A ragged-looking laceration down the left side of her torso. There was a bruise around it, and for the first time, JJ had realized just how bad this could be.

This time, she's come prepared. Glad that she's been nicknamed Dr. Jaraeu, Medicine Woman, and therefore inherited every medical supply, JJ has them all with her, smuggling Garcia's backpack with her into the woods.

Carefully, JJ strips off her vest and her black shirt beneath it. The injury is worse in the daytime. It throbs. It aches. She prays to God that it isn't infected. What she really needs is someone with some sewing skills to come and stitch her up, but she knows Garcia would probably pass out before she would volunteer to do wilderness surgery on her best friend.

Jesus, it looks nasty. JJ knows this because she's managed to peel back the pounds of gauze and tape she secured to herself last night. She makes herself look at it. Makes herself disinfect her hands and then put antiseptic on the whole damn thing. She hisses air through her teeth. She gasps. But she forces herself not to cry out. If she does, the whole team will be out here and they'll know. They'll know how the plane bit into her side as she forced herself out. And they'll know about the numerous smaller burns on her arms. JJ fixed those, too, the best she could, last night.

But today's a new day, and that means, a dressing change. And that means hell, but only for a few minutes. If she can just grit her teeth and do this, and be a woman, then it'll all be okay.

Tears and sweat pour down her face and JJ does her best not to breathe on her open wound before she swathes it in gauze and tape. It's still bleeding, but at least she doesn't see any obvious signs of infection. Yet. JJ's not going to bode well if they're stuck out here. She meant what she said to Emily last night.

But, JJ reminds herself, she is out here for another reason, too. So as soon as she is done fixing herself, she forces herself up. This is as good a place as any for her first marker. It's open, and the sun is streaming in.

She collects a few rocks and arranges them carefully in the dirt, making sure the letters stand out, and are large enough to be seen from a good distance: S.O.S.


Then, JJ walks for what feels like forever. But she has a goal in mind, and that makes her determined. When her side aches, she pushes forward. Thanks to Garcia's bag of tricks, she has a compass, so she will not get lost. This is her only chance. She smiles to herself, but it's more a grimace than anything else. As hard as their job is, it does teach them some useful stuff. Like, a few years ago, in Houston, they had worked a case where a war veteran was in a major PTSD flashback.

It hadn't ended well, but JJ always filed away useful pieces of information. From that case, she had taken away their war vet's distress signals. The S.O.S rocks, and the flags. True, JJ doesn't have three hazard orange flags to triangulate their location with, but Garcia, in her own way, has come to the rescue again. Folded neatly in the bottom of the bag are six bandanas. Orange, pink, purple, light blue, yellow and white with red polka dots.

JJ has already decided. She'll use the brightest colored ones. She will somehow find higher ground, tape the fabric to a stick and stake it in the dirt. She is exhausted, and she can hear Hotch calling her name.

"JJ!"

"Here! I'll be back in a second!" she calls back, so they won't come looking for her. There's blood drying on her hands, and the last thing she wants is them knowing that she's hurt.

She blinks and spots dance in front of her eyes. JJ stops and drags in a deep breath. If she passes out, it won't help anyone. But she apparently didn't do a very good job bandaging herself because blood is now soaking into the waist of her jeans. She forces herself to keep going. She pushes herself, and thinks of her hard-ass soccer coach who used to say, "If you can breathe, you can move! Now move your ass!"

This is her mantra. This is how she gets to her first location - for the yellow bandana, and lashes it to the biggest stick she can find, with tape. It's high enough ground. It will have to be. Because JJ cannot do this twice more if she kills herself on the first attempt.

She still has orange and light blue to do. But she pushes forward. And when she sticks each of the final flags somewhere she prays they will be seen, JJ feels victorious.


When the few short hours of daylight start to fade, JJ feels tears too close at hand.

She is exhausted. Emily is too quiet. Spencer is flashing some kind of Morse code madly with the mirror. He's been doing the same thing all day. And Garcia and the guys have been simultaneously trying to feed the fire and keep it controlled.

JJ's almost ready to confess her injury to someone, anyone, who might be able to make the pain go away, when she hears it:

The subtle, but familiar chopping sound of helicopter blades overhead.


Hours later, they are all recuperating somewhere. Despite everyone's best efforts, most are dehydrated. Most have suffered burns, not just Emily and JJ. Thankfully, Spencer's head wound is minor and Emily's burn is now being tended in a sterile environment, not the middle of nowhere.

For her part, JJ tries to stoically endure the countless stitches to her side without too much whining, but God, it hurts. She is kept overnight, and when Will shows up with Henry, and they climb carefully into bed beside her, JJ's throat closes with tears.

"Oh, thank God…" Will says, looking pale and exhausted. Still, he leans in and kiss her hard.

Henry shoves a hand between them, angry at being ignored.

Tears slip down her cheeks.

She is home.