Forgot to put a disclaimer on the last chapter. I do not own CM :(
Or Twilight, which is mentioned briefly in this chapter.
Reid POV
When life gives you lemons, suck out the juice little by little and regret each sour drop you have to taste.
I totally just made up that saying, so let me explain. When something bad happens, feel sorry for yourself. Get absorbed in self-pity, hate life, wonder why everything is happening to you, etc.
Thank you SOSOSOSOSOSOOSO much to everybody who pushed me to continue! I didn't forget, I just had killer writer's block, and my other story had priority. I'm not promising fast updates—actually, expect slow updates. But I'll do my best to get them up!
Enjoy!
PS- JJ LEAVES TONIGHT. I think I'm gonna cry. No joke. She better leave with a bang.
Okay, I thought as Morgan babbled on about something I could care less about, He's making no sense, as usual. I looked back down at the book I was reading, Twilight by Stephanie Meyers. I had borrowed it from a friend after remembering that JJ had made fun of me for not having read the book. But this novel made no sense: there was absolutely no way vampires could exist, and it was impossible for somebody to sparkle in the sun. In fact, the sun rays would just-
"Reid? Reid!"
"Huh?" I asked, looking up from my book.
"What's going on up there, kid?"
"Up where?"
Morgan laughed before turning to Prentiss, "Do you hear this?"
I heard a loud, uneven click-clack-click as JJ walked ungracefully down the stairs. I stood up abruptly and awkwardly, prompting Morgan to whisper something to Prentiss, which she laughed loudly at. Shooting them a questioning look (which they laughed at again), I walked over towards JJ, pausing slightly when I saw her arm in a sling. Explains why she was ungraceful while walking down the stairs, I figured.
"Hey, what happened?"
She didn't answer.
"JJ? You okay?"
She looked up at me, a little flustered. "Hmm? Oh, hi, Spence," she muttered nearly inaudibly.
"What happened to your arm?" I repeated, but she only started walking faster.
And she kept up the same, quick pace until she had reached the door.
"That was...odd..." Prentiss commented.
"You're telling me," Morgan agreed. I jumped involuntary when Hotch slammed his door shut.
"Hey, Hotch, JJ just walked out the door," Morgan informed a little too casually.
"I know," Hotch muttered.
"Everything okay?" Prentiss asked.
I was still staring at the door. That was so out of character for JJ—usually, she would at least stop and talk, answer my questions. Normally, she would calm me down and explain to me what was happening. But not this time.
My thoughts were rudely interrupted when Hotch answered, "Not really."
That was a huge problem, because everything was always okay for JJ. She could handle any situation with the perfect grace and elegance, all the while getting everything done her way without angering anybody. Not to mention the fact that JJ would never admit to anything being wrong unless something was really off. She was always so put together and in control, having anything out of place would tip everything off balance.
I flinched slightly when I realized that I had been profiling my best friend, so I distracted myself and the others with an obvious question: "What's wrong?"
Hotch was silent for a moment, debating something, before responding, "Briefing room, now. Reid, go get Rossi."
I nodded and bolted toward Rossi's office, hopping up the stairs two at a time.
I knocked repeatedly on his door until I heard a faint, "What?"
I took that as a, come on in! and opened the door.
"Hotch wants us in the briefing room now."
"Is it a new case?" he asked, following me out the door and through the bullpen.
"I don't think so."
When I didn't elaborate, he asked, "So what is it?"
"Well, I'm not sure, but right before he asked us to come I saw JJ in a sling running out of the building-"
"Sling? Running?"
"Maybe not running, but definitely walking faster than the three miles an hour the average person walks..."
"Reid! I got it."
"Oh, sorry. Uh, so yeah. I kind of drew the conclusion that something was off from her faster-than-normal walking and sling-"
"Sling?"
I eyed him, a little confused. But my brain was in overdrive at the moment, so I responded quickly with, "Yes. A sling is a piece of fabric strapped to a person's arm when it is injured or-"
"I know what a sling is, Reid. Do you know why she had one?"
Oh. That made a lot more sense. "Nope, but she came out of Hotch's office, so I'm assuming that's what he wanted to tell us."
Rossi and I made our way into the briefing room in silence. Everybody was already there, trying to profile Hotch to find out any information they could before he told us what he knew.
Rossi and I took our seats, and he walked over to the table without saying a word.
"So, Hotch...what's going on?" Prentiss asked.
Hotch pursed his lips slightly before answering simply, "Strauss will help us find a new liaison."
I felt my eyes freeze on my unit chief. New liaison? Why on Earth would we need a new liaison? JJ was the best media liaison there was...that's why she was chosen for the job. Unless...
"Is she on medical leave?" I asked. Everybody turned to look at me—apparently, I took in the information faster than everyone else. And I had thought of a reason faster. "Her arm," I felt the need to explain. "Will we need a new liaison until she gets her arm out of the sling?"
"That Jordan Todd was good," Morgan added. "I know she didn't really feel like she fit in, but just a few weeks would-"
"What happened to her arm?" Prentiss interrupted. Her eyes were wide, looking directly up at Hotch, a sure sign of concern.
"Uh, no, she is not on medical leave. So, Morgan, it will be more than just a few weeks," he said, dodging Prentiss's question.
"Her arm?" Prentiss repeated.
"Will left her. She fell and spent the night in the hospital with a broken arm and concussion. She decided to quit." He said it quickly, as though it were a poison he was trying to spit out before it consumed him.
"Quit?"
"Yes, Reid, she quit."
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"So, um, when are we getting the new liaison?" Rossi asked, breaking the awkward silence with an even more uncomfortable question.
Probably because he didn't work with JJ as long as the rest of us. He didn't know her like we did.
"Strauss said she will help me interview for a new one tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Prentiss gasped. "That's a little early, don't you think?"
Rossi shook his head. "You all are too young, you don't know what it was like before we had a media liaison."
"We solve approximately three times as many cases now than we did before the first BAU media liaison arrived, and even more than that since JJ took over."
"Not surprising," Emily muttered. "JJ is good at her job—never does anything halfway."
"Well, now she quit completely, too." Hotch said.
Harsh, cold.
"Go back to your work. I've talked Strauss into letting us just have a catch-up day today, so paperwork all day. Tomorrow or the next day, depending on when we get our new liaison, we will start cases again. I'm sorry, guys."
He got up and left.
I was sitting at my desk, staring down as all the words on the paper blurred together. I read and re-read the whole paper four times in almost fifteen seconds, but it still didn't make sense.
And that bothered me.
Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore and I pulled out my cell phone. I pressed speed-dial two and waited for an answer.
Ring, ring.
"Hey, kid, who are you calling?" Morgan asked me, but I just held up my forefinger in response.
Ring, ring.
"Everything okay?"
Ring, ring.
"Reid! Man, is everything alright?"
Hello, you have reached Supervisory Special Agent Jennifer Jareau. I am unable to get to the phone right now. Please leave a detailed message and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.
JJ would say thank you, I thought, when there was nothing to thank for. She was always so nice...
Beep.
"Reid!" Morgan grabbed my arm.
"Ow—what?" I exclaimed, hanging up the phone.
"Is everything okay up there?"
I now knew where "up there" was, but instead of answering truthfully, I lied. "Yeah, everything's fine."
"Who were you calling?"
"Uh, no-nobody."
"Uh-huh, sure," he said sarcastically as he stole my phone in one quick motion.
"What—hey! Morgan!"
"Nothing you can do, kid. Mommy's not here to-" he stopped short. Emily and I stared at him, hurt, and he stared back, uncomfortable.
We all knew who mommy was.
"You called JJ?" It was more of a statement than a question, but I answered anyway.
"Yeah."
He snapped my phone closed and tossed it onto my desk. It bounced a few times, and slid. My hand was too slow to catch it as it fell down towards the floor; the back and battery flew out. "Hey—Morgan!"
"Reid, nothing's gonna bring her back!"
"You think I don't know that, Morgan?" I exclaimed. Forcing myself to calm down, I took a deep breath and counted to five before reaching down to pick up my the scattered pieces of my phone.
Morgan obviously had decided that he needed to relax as well. "I know you and JJ had a...complicated relationship. But she left us, Kid-"
"I am not a kid." I didn't exactly yell, but my tone wasn't the nicest either. I said it through my teeth, my eyes wide and staring at him.
He backed off immediately, but my face was flushed and my eyes were wild—I was not quite done yet. "You think I haven't lost? You think I've never had to say goodbye? Morgan, my dad left me when I was four, and I put my mom into a hospital when I was eighteen. I know what it's like to be forced to say goodbye. Just because I'm young, doesn't mean I'm inexperienced."
Hotch chose that moment to show up. He looked back and forth between me and Morgan a few times like a confused puppy, but didn't ask. "I want you to go home," he said quietly. "I want all of you to go home so we can have a fresh start tomorrow."
Not surprisingly, we both agreed. I grabbed my bag and walked out the door, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone.
Garcia, though, caught up to me on the way out. "Hello handsome. How are you holding up?"
"How do you think?"
Garcia didn't respond immediately; she let me drown in my own self-pity, while she tried to be as happy and optimistic as possible.
I was jealous. Why couldn't I be like her? Why couldn't I see the bright side of everything? Recently, the glass has been half empty as opposed to half full.
"What, no statistics on workers or quit? Or their coworkers? Or-"
"Yeah, I've got one for you," I snapped, repeating something JJ had jokingly told me when we were at a bar last week and she wanted me to loosen up a bit: "Seventy-five percent of statistics are made up on the spot."
And with that, I walked away.
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