Later on you can tell me how much I suck for being a slow updater as of late. But for now, just leave me tons of reviews so I can knock this next chapter out in no time flat! *fingers crossed* I hope this lives up to expectations.

Love Salem

"Acting in anger and hatred throughout my life, I frequently precipitated what I fear most, the loss of friendships and the need to rely upon the very people I'd abused."

-Luke Ford

She knew that she should be at the hospital with Morgan, with the rest of the team, but she couldn't be there right now. She couldn't just sit and wait for something to happen like they were. JJ could be dead by then. She knew they'd reached an impasse. They didn't have anything else on Matthew Petteway, despite all of their digging and all of Garcia's hard work. So Hotch, Rossi and Reid had accompanied Derek to the hospital in hopes of getting more information while also ensuring that the team's resident badass was going to be okay.

He's tough. He can take it. At least, that's what Emily kept telling herself as she put any thoughts of Derek in the back of her mind and instead continued to thumb through all the files, pictures and massive amounts of information. Her brain was on overdrive. Overloaded and crammed full of anything that had to do with this case, anything that could help them find JJ. She had to bring her girlfriend back. She had to because without Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss didn't exist anymore. It was selfish of her really; to be that dependent on a woman who, as of recently, had become so broken. But that broken beautiful blonde was Emily's life and soul. There was no longer such a thing as a life without JJ.

The brunette could feel her eyes beginning to droop as she ran her finger down the page, scanning every word in hopes that they'd missed something. They hadn't. Matthew Petteway, for all senses of the word, was a normal guy with a normal life. Which is why it didn't make sense. If it wasn't for his relationship with Ashley, he had no connection to the media liaison. He'd begun dating Ashley in order to get closer to JJ. But why? Emily wanted to yell that at the top of her lungs. She wanted to pull her hair out, to kick and scream, to throw a Henry-esque tantrum. She was supposed to be the strong one, the protector. She was supposed to keep JJ safe, but she'd failed. She'd broken her promise and blamed it on Morgan.

Emily fought against the sleep that was trying to battle its way forward as she stared brokenhearted at the pictures of all the dead women; the women that looked like her girlfriend and even had her name carved into their chests. "Fuck," she muttered as she ran a tired hand through her tangled hair. She leaned her head against the table, squinting her brown eyes shut in an effort to stop the tears that threatened to fall.

And just like that, she was back in JJ's house, staring into the sapphire eyes of the woman she loved.

*Flashback*

Jennifer Jareau sat at the dining room table, flipping through some files she'd brought home from the office as she took another bite of cheesecake. A moan escaped her when the dessert touched her lips, caressing her throat as she swallowed it down. God, she loved cheesecake.

She could hear Emily fumbling around in the kitchen, the refrigerator door slamming shut as the brunette uttered a few choice curse words.

"Babe?" the blonde said. "Everything okay?" She smiled as a disgruntled Emily Prentiss rounded the corner, furrowing her brow as she took in the sight of her blonde girlfriend chomping down on her last piece of cheesecake.

"Jen, you didn't!" Emily screeched.

"What?" JJ asked, slightly baffled, before taking another bite.

"That… that's mine!"

"It was in my house, in my fridge, being kept cool by the electricity bill that I pay. Therefore, I beg to differ."

"Give it to me," the profiler demanded.

"I can't. It means too much to me. I love it too much," the younger woman smiled as she picked up the plate and began to take cautious steps backwards into the living room.

"You love it more than me?"

JJ simply giggled in response as she drug the fork between her teeth, groaning once again at the taste.

Now Emily knew she was just being teased. The slightly taller woman lunged at her girlfriend, eliciting a shriek from JJ as the blonde ran for the stairs, plate still in hand. "Oh, no you don't!" the brunette yelled, only a few steps behind JJ. She grabbed at the younger woman's ankle causing them both to stumble and collapse on the stairs.

"You can't have it!" JJ laughed as she lay flattened on her stomach, hands outstretched, with Emily's body pressed into her back. "Never! Never! Never!" Letting the plate of dessert drop onto the nearest stair, the media liaison turned herself over so that she was staring into the chocolate eyes of the woman that had captured her heart.

"I don't want it anymore," Emily whispered as she leaned down, pressing her lips to JJ's and letting her tongue slide into the younger woman's mouth. "I just want you. Forever and for always."

"That's good," JJ responded, her fingers trailing a path down Emily's spine, "because you've got me, forever and for always."

*End flashback*

"Emily? Emily…" a soft voice urged her awake, a hand lightly shaking her shoulder. The brunette grumbled before lifting her head and slowly opening her eyes. It took her a moment to adjust, realizing she must've fallen asleep, as she came face to face with David Rossi.

"Sorry, I…" she began.

"We're all heading back to the hotel to rest up for a few hours. Hotch wanted me to stop by and pick you up. You need sleep, real sleep, with something better than a pile of papers for a pillow," Rossi interrupted.

The brunette struggled to hold back the tears as she stared into the kind eyes of the man that had become like a second father to her. She could see the empathy there, the way his heart ached along with hers, the way he silently acknowledged her struggle. He knew that she didn't have it in her to be weak. And he knew that she didn't have the energy to break down, but the problem was she also didn't have the energy to hold herself together.

"I just don't know what to do," Emily admitted before allowing Dave to help her from the chair, draping an arm over her slender shoulders as he led her towards the door.

Ashley squinted her eyes shut as she turned her head to the side, hoping to block out what she had seen, of what was taking place in front of her. Her yelling pleas had been useless as Matt continued to kick and pummel her broken aunt. No matter how long she lived, the redhead knew that she would never forget this. No matter how many happy moments took place in her life, she would never be able to bottle up these horrible memories. The images. The smells. The sounds.

JJ's screams continued to pierce the air; the blonde had long ago stopped trying to hold them back. It took too much effort to swallow the pain so she instead gave in to her ailing body, accepting the agony with each crushing blow to her ribs, each kick to her abdomen, each slap to her face. She could taste the blood pooling in her mouth as Matt's fist came in contact with her jaw. The ringing in her head grew louder, her blue eyes hazing over as she fought to stay awake, as she struggled against the torture she'd endured. She tried to block out what was happening to her, choosing instead to picture Emily, Henry, the team, her family… anything to get the face of Matthew Petteway out of her mind.

"Why?" she rasped as Matthew finally ceased, his breath ragged from the effort he'd exerted while beating her.

He smiled sadistically before placing a hand under JJ's chin, forcing her to look into his crazed eyes. "Because I have to finish what he couldn't."

She stumbled into the hotel room in a drunken haze. Rossi had tried forcing her to go to bed when they'd arrived, but Emily opted for the bar, choosing to drink away the pain of not having JJ there. She knew that going upstairs, to the sixth floor, to her and JJ's shared room would only break her further. And she'd been right. Seeing the empty bed with her girlfriend's clothes strewn across it haphazardly was gut-wrenching. She felt sick. Legitimately sick.

One last glance at JJ's open suitcase had her barreling for the bathroom as the contents of her stomach were quickly emptied into the toilet. If she thought that the scotch had burned going down, having it come back up was twice as bad. Her eyes watered as she continued to dry heave. She hadn't eaten in what felt like days, but she knew it had only just been yesterday. There was nothing left inside of her to come up. And that was true in all senses of the word- empty. The profiler was completely bare, devoid of happiness and any emotion that wasn't wrapped in sadness or anger. Everything hurt; every thought, every memory, every breath, every tear.

"Please," she whimpered as she leaned against the cabinets, cradling her head in her hands. She wasn't sure who her pleas were meant for. God, maybe. Would he even listen to her? She didn't feel connected to her faith anymore, not since her abortion at 15. But who else could help her right now? Who else would listen to her cries and bring her salvation?

So Emily Prentiss did something she hadn't done in a long time. She prayed.

"Friendship needs no words- it is solitude delivered from the anguish of loneliness."

-Dag Hammarskjold

A soft knock on the door brought him out of his drug induced sleep. Derek turned his head just in time to see a worn out Agent Prentiss walk through the door of his hospital room. She looked as tired and broken as he'd ever seen her. Her normally perfectly coiffed hair hung in a tangled mess around her face. Her clothes appeared wrinkled and her eye makeup was smudged. This Emily lacked the grace and confidence that the team was used to seeing. There was an emptiness in her eyes and it broke his heart to have to look at her this way. It was evident that she was falling apart, that she was scared, that she was angry. It was unnerving seeing Emily wearing her emotions so openly; not having to dig past her walls in an attempt to figure out what she was keeping in those compartments. No, she wasn't able to compartmentalize this. She couldn't bottle up her feelings for JJ. They were too overpowering.

"Princess?" he whispered as she sat down in the chair next to his hospital bed, her face bathed in darkness now, the dim lighting no longer illuminating her features. She was silent as she stared down at her fidgeting hands. She was picking at her nails again, a nervous habit that she'd never been able to break. "Say something," Morgan urged.

A lump rose in Emily's throat as she racked her brain for any words that she could say that wouldn't cause her to burst into tears, any words that didn't make her think of JJ. The blonde was so eloquent when she spoke, something that Emily had always admired. As the media liaison for the BAU, everything she ever uttered was deliberate, put together and held meaning. Emily didn't have those traits. She had so much she needed to say, but without her well-scripted girlfriend by her side, it was as if she'd lost the ability to speak. "I can't," she mumbled, her voice breaking almost immediately.

Morgan simply nodded in understanding, remaining silent in hope that the brunette in front of him would be able to pull herself together. Or at least talk about what was going on in that beautiful head of hers.

It was a couple of agonizing minutes before Emily's voice finally pierced the silence. "I can't do anything without her," she admitted. "I feel like… like I don't exist without her. I don't have a purpose. Everything just seems meaningless and it's scary. Unexplainably terrifying."

"C'mere," he said as he carefully scooted over in the bed, patting the space beside him. Normally, he would've just let her sit there as she processed everything. Emily had never been much of a touchy person, but she needed this. She needed human contact and to his surprise, she obliged his request, tucking herself into his side as he rested his uninjured arm over her shoulder. He could feel her tears soaking through the ridiculous hospital gown he'd been forced into as she buried her face in his shoulder. This was the vulnerable side of Emily that no one ever saw; no one except JJ.

They all looked like hell the next day. No one could deny it. Rossi had circles under his eyes, indicating a lack of sleep. Reid had on two different colored sucks, proving just how out of it he'd been when getting dressed that morning. Hotch's stubble was evident on his chin, showing just how many days it had been since he'd picked up a razor. And Emily's eyes were glazed over and bloodshot, giving away the fact that she'd spent the night crying in Derek Morgan's arms. None of them felt like they were on their A-game. They continued to pore over evidence, the same evidence they'd been picking through since they'd arrived. It was excruciating. All they needed was one good break. One solid lead. One ounce of an idea as to where they could find Matthew Petteway. And when the phone rang, with Penelope Garcia's voice on the other side, it looked like they'd finally get it.

"I found something," Garcia stated matter-of-factly. She had a no-nonsense tone that they all recognized. She was just as worried as the rest of them, if not more. "I was up half the night digging through this creep's life and then I rushed in bright and early this morning. And just when I'd lost all hope, I came across something very important. Matthew Petteway was adopted. The records were closed, of course, and it took a few bargaining chips as well as numerous threats to finally get some information. But you won't believe what I found."

"Please, just get to the point, Garcia," Emily said impatiently.

The quirky analyst swallowed the sting she felt from Emily's words, knowing that her best friend's lover was just on edge, before she continued. "Matt had been in and out of different fosters homes for 3 years before being adopted by Josh and Anna Petteway when he was 6 years old."

"Why was he in foster care?" Reid questioned.

"He was being abused as a child. Daycare workers kept noticing bruises and scrapes, but his mother kept claiming that he was just an average kid, bumping into things, falling over, yada yada. His mother was addicted to some kind of pills so his teachers doubted that anything she said was legitimate, but they had no proof. Until one morning he came in complaining that his arm and head hurt. He was taken to the hospital where they did x-rays, the whole nine yards. The kid had a broken wrist and a concussion. Apparently, his father had been beating the daylights out of him and his mother so Child Protective Services swooped in and took him away."

"And…?" Emily's impatience was growing. She wanted Garcia to tell them something worthwhile. Something they could use.

"Patience is a virtue, my sweet. So anyway, I continued to do some digging and threatened a few more people's credit scores before I was able to find out who his birth parents were. His mother's name was Tara. She died of an overdose a few years after he was put into the system. And his father is Mitchell… Mitchell Hagin. After finding this out, I decided to go on a hunch and I discovered that Matthew popped in for a visit with his biological father in prison about a month ago, right after the guy was incarcerated. The last time he saw him was two days before the murders in Gainesville began."

"Oh my God," Emily mumbled. "He's Mitchell Hagin's son."

"I assess the power of will by how much resistance, pain, torture it endures and knows how to turn to its advantage."

-Friedrich Nietzsche

So this story is quickly coming to an end. Only a few more chapters to go. Say what? Anyways, there is a sequel planned... that is, if y'all are interested. I know the Jemily ship is quickly sinking after the Season 7 Finale (it got me right in the feels), but seriously, do ya want a sequel? XOXO