A/N my bad for the delay, what can I say, I'm still trying to organise my summer and it's getting into exam season so there will be longer between updates I'm afraid. Stick with me though :) thanks to all the reviewers of the last chapter (Guest, snuggleUP, , Leslet, Cupcake, Casie01, Jareau37 and TeaOfTheMonth) even if you are the reason I fall asleep during lessons because you keep me up writing all night...

A couple of quick notes; bold italics picks up about 24 hours after the last chapter left off (i.e its still part of the flashback). Also, shavka is Russian for mutt whilst soykais Russian for jay- that will make more sense later.

Enjoy

Crow looked down at the woman sleeping on the ground next to him. Her lips were slightly blue but her pulse was strong. She'd been terrified to let her exhaustion overwhelm her, terrified that he would also give in, or give up, and she would suffocate. But he'd whispered to her quietly that he wasn't going anywhere, that he'd stayed this long, he wasn't going to give up on her now.

Tears had escaped her eyes after that, leaving salty tracks down her cheeks. She, like him, hated having to rely on anyone else. Depending on other people leaves you open to betrayal.

Eventually she had been too tired to keep her eyes open, and he had to rely on her heart rate to tell him when to squeeze more air into her lungs. He'd thought about just stopping and letting her die in her sleep. It was a good way to go, as death went. Better than bleeding out in front of a jeering crowd as your killer just backs away, horrified by what they've done. Better than being beaten to death just because a Watcher gets bored or wants to make an example out of you.

But something kept him frozen in place, keeping the woman he barely knew alive, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. He didn't know how long they'd been there, just that all he had to fight his own exhaustion was sheer force of will.

He distracted himself by examining the scars and marks on her skin. The most obvious one was the one that curled around her eye and across her cheek. It was at least a year old, by his reckoning, but wasn't the result of Ghost fight. Jabs or slashes to the face were largely frowned upon, considered by most to be cheap shots. Because the Ghost Traders were such an honourable bunch of gentlemen. The scar on her face had been made deliberately and meticulously. In all probability it was a protection order from her previous Lieutenant.

His eyes skimmed over the dog bite marks that twisted the exposed flesh on her torso; it wasn't hard to work out why everyone called her Mutt. He did however pause when he saw a different mark just creeping over the crook of her neck. The teeth that had made that were undoubtedly human. It chilled him to think of the sort of situation you had to be in for someone to sink their teeth into you like that.

He counted the scars on her forearm. 18. A fairly high body count, and those were just official kills. His attention was caught by the tattoos on her right forearm. A trio of blue jays, taking off into flight. He smiled. They reminded him of freedom. Then he chastised himself for allowing himself to think about it. Those were the kinds of thoughts that were better off locked in the depths of his mind where they could be forgotten.

He liked the jays though, they were beautiful and vibrant, qualities he hadn't seen in anything in a very long time.

He diverted his attention back to Mutt as she began to stir; her eyes flickered beneath her eyelids before opening abruptly. Almost immediately she panicked. The coniine must have been wearing off because she opened her mouth, trying to draw air into her lungs. He squeezed on the bag and she relaxed again ever so slightly but her heart was racing and she turned her head to stare at him in terror. There was also the slightest hint of surprise in her eyes; surprise that he had bothered to keep her alive.

"Told you I wasn't going anywhere." He murmured and squeezed the bag again. Her lips curved upwards by the tiniest amount and her eyes creased a little as she tried to smile.

After what he judged to be another hour or so, he saw the mask compress against her face a little. He quickly gave her another breath of air but she shook her head just slightly. Her chest fell and then the mask compressed again. He slid the mask away, and as he did so, saw her chest rise by a few millimetres. Then it fell, then rose again. As her second breath left her lungs her eyes widened and he moved the mask back into place and gave her a full breath of air from the bag. Her face relaxed in relief.

Crow beamed down at her. "Just hang on a little longer, it can't be long now." But his smile faded a little as he realised what that meant. Socrates had said he would be back to administer the second shot; soon it would be his turn.

He jumped as he felt a pressure on his hand and looked down. His hand had been resting almost within hers, with two fingers extended against her wrist to check her pulse. She had squeezed his hand weakly, trying to reassure him.

He looked back up at her eyes; they were trying to tell him the same thing he had told her. She wouldn't give up on him.

After about another hour she could breathe well enough that she only needed his help every 7 to 8 breaths- just to give her blood a quick oxygen top up. Her lips had lost their blue tinge and the colour began to return to her face.

"Why the jays?" He asked her suddenly, brushing a finger against the skin over her forearm. She hadn't had them when the Lieutenant had first brought her to Boston, they must have been a gift from him. When he asked however, he saw an overwhelming tide of grief and guilt appear in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I shouldn't have asked." He muttered quickly, but she shook her head slightly and tried to speak.

"I wanted… to… remember someone… the way they… were… before…" Her voice was weak and raspy. He replaced the mask and gave her some air. She smiled. "I wanted… to remember… kindness."

"Memories are all we have, Jay" He murmured in reply.

She looked up at him in surprise, assuming she had misheard him, but he shook his head. "It's only a few letters different, but 'Jay' suits you better."

Morgan groaned in frustration. He'd been lying in this damn bed for what felt like days- although in truth it had only been 3 or 4 hours- with nothing to do but think about JJ. And it was killing him. He knew what Morris had said to Hotch, but there was no way he was going to rescue her just to watch her go to prison.

And with regards to Chief Morris, he was livid. Garcia had told him what he had done, putting JJ undercover and then leaving her to rot. He had seen his fury reflected in Garcia's eyes as well. He'd been ready to rip out his IV and garrotte the bastard with it for what he'd done. But Garcia had stopped him, and calmed him down enough that the damned machines surrounding him quit their ridiculous beeping.

He all but sighed in relief when he saw Garcia appear in the doorway. "Hey, Baby Girl, how've you been getting on?"

"I've been doing some digging on the deal that sleezebag, Oleg Svinsky, made with Santiago and Morris" Garcia replied, lowering her voice as if someone had bugged the room. They hadn't of course.

"Legal digging?" Morgan asked carefully. She gave him a look that clearly said not even close. "Go on" Morgan said.

"Okay so we know that Svinsky turned informant after being convicted of a double rape about a year ago. The deal was he'd serve no time and if his information lead to the dismantling of the Ghost Traders in Boston then he'd be a free man once he'd finished up with the FBI."

"They were going to free a convicted serial rapist?" Morgan said in disbelief. Garcia just nodded; she was sickened by the idea. Morgan continued. "Talk to me about Morris."

"He was lead agent on the case JJ was working before she went missing. It was the case that made his career, since then he's climbed his way up through the ranks to make it to Section Chief. However, JJ's undercover operation was poorly managed-"

"Well, yeah. He sent her in to spook a sociopath who was already gunning for her." Morgan interrupted quickly. Garcia shot him an irritated look. "Right. Sorry." He ducked his head apologetically.

"Yes the entire operation was dodgy from the start but I've looked a little deeper- she had insufficient back up, no surveillance monitoring the situation. She went in dark."

Morgan frowned. "That's not the sort of case that should make someone's career."

"Exactly." Garcia replied, somewhat excitedly, "That's good for JJ isn't it? Well, not good seeing where it got her but good for her now right? Good for her as in-"

Morgan cut her off. "Yes, Baby Girl, it's good. Morris won't try to kick up a fuss because he doesn't want people looking too closely at the circumstances surrounding her disappearance. Especially given that the official statement was an agent on vacation was taken from her hotel room by a gang with an axe to grind with law enforcement."

Garcia gave a small smile. They were going to help JJ, whatever it took.

They both looked up as they heard a knock on the door. It was Santiago. Garcia got up to leave, "I'll drop by when I've found more we can use." She said quietly.

Morgan chuckled. "I'm not going to be in here much longer Garcia; there's only so much bed rest and Jell-O a guy can take." He smiled as she left, then looked at Santiago.

"Agent Morgan, I just thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing." He said.

Morgan shrugged. "About as good as a man can be with more bruises and cuts than he can count. Not to mention almost being killed by one of my best friends."

Santiago nodded solemly. "People change" he murmured, "when they have nothing left to remind them of who they used to be. Leave them in for too long and they forget what's important." His gaze grew distant.

"She hasn't changed." Morgan muttered. "Not really, what I saw of her, she's still in there, that caring person I once knew. She's changed on the outside though." He laughed bitterly. "The JJ I knew would never have got a tattoo, now she's got one all down her forearm. I didn't even know she liked blue jays."

Santiago looked up sharply. "Blue jays?"

Morgan frowned, but nodded.

"What did they look like?" Santiago said, a hint of urgency tingeing his voice. It was not lost on Morgan.

"I think there were three of them, the one by her elbow was just spreading its wings, and the one at the base of her wrist was in flight. Above the first one, there was a number as well. It was burned into her skin." He replied, a little confused but wanting to know where this would take him.

"What was the number?" Santiago asked, again his tone was urgent, and a little desperate.

"Umm… 41…326 I think. Why?"

Santiago's eyes widened. He paused for a moment before answering. "That was Jason's badge number. He had the same blue jays tattooed down his forearm. Jason was the cop I told you about who worked undercover in Washington before the operation went south."

Morgan didn't know what to say to that. He had no idea why JJ was walking around with a dead cop's tattoo and his badge number burned into her arm.

A long silence stretched between them before Morgan spoke. "I need your help, Santiago." He paused before continuing. "The deal you made with Svinsky, I want that same deal for JJ and Crow. They tell you everything they know in return for immunity."

"I don't know, Agent Morgan. The things they've done…" Santiago replied, not convinced.

"Come on man. They were forced to. So what, you're prepared to do a deal with a serial rapist but not two kidnap victims? JJ has already helped us. It's thanks to her we know where and when that fight will take place. Both of them have lived in other Ghost cities besides Boston- JJ could give you information that could help bring down Washington."

"What makes you think either one of them will talk?"

"They're close. Offer them both immunity, but tell them that both have to take it, and provide all the information they've got or the deal's off. They'll do it to protect each other." Morgan replied with absolute certainty. He had watched the pair closely whilst undercover; if there was one thing he could count on, it was their protective instincts towards each other.

Santiago nodded. "I'll see what I can do." It was clear Jareau had been close in some way to Jason. If he could get her to talk then maybe he could find out what had happened to him and why, and give his family some closure.

Okay I'm taking suggestions on what you guys want next- I'm thinking move into the rescue but if you guys want something else then let me know? Meh, leave a review anyways :)