AN: Thank you for the reviews! If anyone has a JJ centric story idea you would like me to try and write, please PM me.
JJ's POV:
Your head is hurting, your body is hurting, everything and everywhere is hurting. Unrelenting pain. And you know it isn't over. You are not sure how much longer you can hold on, or how long this has been going on. They have cuffed your arms together behind your back, your legs are bound together with rolls of duct tape.
What you do know is limited. You know there are two men, younger guys, but adults, nonetheless. They are strong and you know they are on something. It takes a lot of audacity to do what they are doing. It takes a lot of stupidity to abduct, torture, rape, and plan to kill an FBI agent. It is a rookie mistake to not hide their identities and simply asinine to not only record, but live stream what they are doing.
They are not experienced criminals by any means, but they aren't total newbs though. And then it clicks just as one of them walks over. A bottle of water in his hands.
"Here, take a drink," he holds the bottle to your lips, but you refuse. "I know you are thirsty; you are sweating." He reaches over and stops, clearly remembering what happened to his buddy the last time his hand got close to you. "I am not stupid little girl; you aren't going to bite me."
You roll your eyes, "you two are the epidemy of stupid." You internally shudder at the weakness in your own voice. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" You nod to the camera, "do you think you are going to get away with this somehow?"
"Why wouldn't we? We have thousands of followers who are paying a shit ton of money to do things to you, one of them will be a lawyer who will take our case so that we don't expose him."
You shake your head, "the FBI isn't that dumb. They will be able to trace every single person who is watching and paying. They are already doing it." And you see fear suddenly rush over his face. "You will be in cuffs very soon, and I cannot wait until you are sentenced to life." You glare at him, knowing you are walking a thin line.
Suddenly he reaches over and rips your shirt apart, exposing your bra. He pulls the entire cloth away, slowly. He stares at you the entire time. You refuse to break your stare. "What happened here, baby doll?" You feel his hand brush against your stomach right where that horrible burn mark is.
You refuse to answer.
You keep your eye contact with him, even as his partner walks over, a rope in his hands. "You know what a snuff film is, girl?" He glares at you.
You know. Of course you know. "That was our original plan, but our viewers here think you are pretty sweet and would love to see how you can play before they vote on how to… well, you know the point of a snuff film." He reaks of beer and pot and you force yourself not to show any fear.
"That's intelligent, live streaming the murder of an FBI agent,"
His smile fades briefly from his face, "there will be much more I am filmin' darlin'."
And you know that he means it.
The next hours are full of hell. You are burned, tortured, you are hit and know bones are broken. You are forced to do unspeakable acts, you are strangled and dragged, you are cut and tazed. You are dragged and dropped, at one point, you feel one of the men hold your hands down and drive a screw though them.
"See, now you won't move and we both can have fun with you so we don't need to hold you down." The pain is intense, sweat is rolling down your neck and back. You feel something rising in your throat and realize it is blood. They start laughing and refuse to let you turn your head, you have no choice to try and swallow it.
Your lungs are burning as you are pulled back to your feet. One of the is holding you still, your body shaking from the pain, the screws still embedded in your hand. You cannot hold yourself up any longer and your knees start to give out.
"Oh no, honey," one of the men forces you to keep standing. And then, from behind, you are hit with something hard. You scream in pain as you collapse to the ground, pain radiating from your legs. The other man comes around and takes a hammer before slamming it into each one of your knees.
You want to cry, you want your husband, you want your team. You want someone, anyone to come. You wince as your back is hit with a hammer and you are rolled back. You are loose, there is nothing holding you down anymore. And yet, you cannot stand up on your own.
You hear voices but cannot make out words. Suddenly, you feel your legs being forced apart. Again. And then a blinding and horrific pain. You know something has just been violently shoved in you and you instinctively reach to pull it out. Your hands are stopped and prevented from doing anything. You are on the verge of losing consciousness, but you know the moment you do, you will never wake up. And you continue to fight. You fight. You fight as something is placed over your eyes, preventing you from seeing, something is placed over your ears, you cannot hear. And then you feel someone lift you and you scream at the jarring. Something is being wrapped around you tightly, almost swaddling you. And then you are dropped to the ground. You cannot hear or see anything, your heart continues to race, waiting for the next touch, but it never comes.
You are exhausted, you want your team. But you want your Will. You close your eyes, remembering the best memories you have had together. You hope he will be okay, you hope he and Henry will be okay. You know your team will take care of them. But who will take care of your team? They will have to take care of each other. You know that the FBI has your will and in it it states what each member gets but also requests, rather demands, that they take care of each other.
And your mind racks over your will that you have left and a smile spreads over your face as the tears finally stop at the same time the pain dwindles away. You hear a soft voice that is asking you to come near
"Come on mommy," you hear the voice say gently, it's a little girl's voice and you know instantly it belongs to the child you lost years ago. The child that never got a chance. You open your eyes and see a little girl smiling and holding out her hand to you. "Mommy!" And you run to her, not realizing that you were still blindfolded and unable to hear anything. That the figure calling you was not your little girl, but someone else.
Someone you had not hoped to meet for many years to come. Yet, someone you knew was always there. And you relax as you are at peace and understand that this is not your little girl, but your death.