JJ

She was spinning. Or maybe the world behind her eyes was rotating around her, she couldn't be sure. Jennifer grasped her sister's hands as the spun around in an infinite circle on the grassy lawn of her front yard. It was summertime, but the air was free of humidity and smelled like flowers and freshly mown grass. It was a simple game, but they laughed and laughed on all the same. They kept going faster and faster until they would inevitably fall to the ground. Jennifer could make out her sister mouthing something. Then it transferred into words… Wake up Jenny.

J.J's eyes flashed open as she awoke from her dream. It all seemed so real to her that for a moment she forgot where she was. Then it flooded back: the case, the car, the house, the family, the pain. Her body reminded her as well with aching limbs and the new wounds streaking her back. Now she remembered why she was in this darkness. She tried to escape to no avail and then the whipping. By the smell of her surroundings she guessed she was underground, most likely in the basement… and alone.

The need to know if her friends were actually alive was ripping her apart inside. It was almost two days since she saw them and now she didn't know what to think. She never doubted their strength, but they were all outnumbered and weakened. And then there was the question if the rest of the team had any clue where they might be. They were completely off the map and it would be an impossible task, but if anyone could do it, it would be the rest of the BAU.

J.J was lying on her stomach on what felt like a cot of sorts. The room was dark, except for a beam of light that peaked in through a barred window on the door. She wanted to get up to evaluate her new surroundings, but every time she moved her wounds burned.

Faintly, she heard voices. They quietly echoed down into her cell. It was difficult to make out what they were saying exactly. But then she heard Emily. Her voice sounded fiercely strong. A part of her anxiety melted away; her friend was alive. She still had no clue what condition she might be in, but she was breathing and talking. The thought of Reid still weighed her down. Was Emily protecting him? Or was she mourning him in her own way?

Well look what we have her, a real life doctor!

It was a new voice, but it confirmed the fact that Reid was there. She didn't like the tone this man was using. The drawl of his voice was pepped up as if he was enjoying himself a little too much. With that thought, J.J had to assume he was some relation of Angie's.

A few minutes went by without the captors raising their voices loud enough for her to hear. Then she heard footsteps making their way down the corridor. She had no choice but to get up now. J.J needed to know what was going on out there.

Her wounds flared with pain as she lifted herself upright on the cot. Standing up wasn't much easier with her sore legs. She managed to maneuver herself against the wall for support as she stumbled to the door. It felt exactly like the numbness in a dream, where the need to get away is overpowered, making the legs buckle under. They must have drugged her again.

Through a haze, she peered out of the tiny barred window, trying to find some glimpse of her friend's condition. Her stomach dropped and she felt suddenly sober at the sight of her beaten friend. They were dragging him down the walkway, Reid looking as though he was a broken marionette. It pained J.J to see he wasn't even fighting. She wanted to call out to him, but knew calling attention to herself would make it less likely for her to do something to help.

She didn't hear anything but the dripping of a pipe and the grunt of Angie's father walking by. Then the screaming started. There was no doubting it came from Reid. J.J clenched her eyes shut as she slid down the wall into a sitting position. Her wounds sent small bursts of stinging pain, but nothing comparable to what she felt internally.

It went on for what seemed like an hour until all the noise seemed to stop. Just one more sound. She just needed one more sound to know he was alive. Those couldn't be the last sounds she heard from one of her dearest friends, the godfather to her child. She wouldn't accept it.

A set of footsteps pattered down the hall. She didn't care which one of them it was. Her indifference ceased at the sound of the turning lock.