Disclaimer: see chapter 1

A/N: This marks the end. I opted for one longer chapter rather than two shorter ones. I hope I didn't resolve things too quickly. Let me know what you think! Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed the ride. I know I have.

…

"Are we really doing the right thing?"

JJ paused on the path and stared at the front door of their parents' home.

Robbie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Baby J, we talked about this. Whatever happens, I'm right here. Besides, it's better to just rip the band-aid off, right? Get it over with?"

JJ leaned her head into his chest and muttered, "Why can't we have normal people lives?"

Robbie wrapped his arms around her. "It just wasn't in the cards for us."

…

The experience was better and worse than JJ imagined it would be. Her mother had dissolved into tears, and Robbie had had to restrain their father from angrily destroying the room. On the upside, the room was still intact, and none of the guilt or blame that the Jareau family was so prone to had surfaced. But she was pretty sure that was just because her parents were still in shock.

"Since we're sharing," Robbie said hesitantly. "There's something you all should know, something I've been waiting for 22 years to find the right moment to talk about." Robbie took a deep breath then plunged ahead. "Annie did write a suicide note."

"What?" their mother gasped.

"She mailed it to me at the academy. I got it about a week after the phone call."

"Why didn't you tell us?" their father demanded angrily.

On edge from the tense atmosphere, Robbie reacted in kind: angrily and defensively. "When was I supposed to do that? Huh? When you two" – he pointed at their mother and father – "were yelling at each other? When you were too busy ignoring each other? Neglecting Jenny?"

"Don't talk to your father like that," their mother scolded him.

"Oh right, that's reserved for you, isn't it?" Robbie shot back.

"Watch your tone, Robert," their father barked.

"No, no," their mother said. "He's right, Matt."

Matthew Jareau shook his head with frustration. "That's no excuse."

"We should have handled things differently," Kate said sadly, her sense of guilt clear in her voice and posture.

Matt rolled his eyes. "There you go again. Should've, could've, would've. Stop dwelling on the past. We can't change it."

"Hypocrite," Robbie muttered.

"Excuse me?" Matt's voice was low and dangerous.

Reminding himself that he was no longer a child, Robbie straightened and faced his father. "If it doesn't do any good to reconsider the past, what's the point in asking me why I didn't tell you back then? Why not just accept that I didn't and move forward?

"What about me?" JJ's quiet voice broke through the argument. "Why didn't you tell me?"

His baby sister's hurt expression and tone was almost too much for Robbie. "Reading it hurt too much. I was young. You were even younger. I couldn't do that to you," he said desperately, hoping she would understand. When she said nothing, eyes drifting down from his face to some obscure focus point on the floor, mouth slightly agape, he added, "Jen, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Before she could say anything, an argument erupted around her once again. They never even noticed JJ slip out the door.

…

How did this happen? The Annie angst was supposed to be over.

JJ fumed and booted a soccer ball towards the goal.

Then again, the family never did resolve anything. As the years passed by, the anger, the sorrow, the guilt, and the blame slowly dissolved away until they felt something like a normal family again. It had been like an unspoken agreement to bury everything under the rug. Damn the Jareau stubbornness.

Mom… sweet, idealistic Mom. Annie's death had nearly ended her. She'd been so wracked with guilt, confusion, and sorrow that she withdrew into herself. Withdrew so far into herself that it was like the rest of the world didn't exist anymore, not even her remaining family. The only times she ever seemed alive were in her blow-ups, during which everything she kept inside exploded out with a fury that no one could contain.

And that led JJ's thoughts to her father. He was an ex-military man, who considered traumatic events a one-and-done deal. There was no wallowing or dwelling. Life happened then it moved on, and people had to move on with it. Needless to say, the chasm between her parents' coping techniques made her father her mother's favorite target in her explosions.

Occasionally, JJ would be the unfortunate target of her mother's rages or caught in the middle of her parents' rampages. And in those moments, there was no escape. At 11, it hurt and scared her. At 12, the screaming had turned into unimportant, useless background noise (at least that's what she told herself). And by 13, she was barely in the house or around her parents long enough to be yelled at.

She spent a lot of her time alone. She had friends who tried but couldn't understand. (JJ didn't blame them for it. How could they understand when even she didn't? They were all just kids anyways.) Once in a while, she'd take Annie's necklace out of its box (it would be a long while before she accepted it as her own), but the sight of it was more of a reminder of her failure to save Annie than it was a reminder of her sister. She had felt so alone.

But there was still Robbie. She'd trusted him entirely. He had always been her port in the storm. Though he'd been far, he made a point of being accessible as much as possible. JJ would call him every Friday and Sunday night, and they were constantly writing letters back and forth. She never would have imagined that Robbie would keep such a huge secret from her… from everyone.

Suddenly Downes flashed through her mind. His interrupted grand finale. He must've brought up Robbie for a reason.

There was no way Robbie would've told Downes and not her. No way at all. Unless it did happen and Downes had known before her.

And the thought of that made her angrier.

A voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey."

JJ turned to see Daisy, her childhood best friend and one of her teammates in high school. "Robbie called you?" she asked as she kicked another ball towards the goal.

"He said you might need a friend."

JJ scoffed. "Why? Since that son of a bi–"

"Careful," Daisy warned. "You'll be insulting two people with that phrase."

"I couldn't care less," JJ said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"Jen." The tone of Daisy's voice was all too familiar. She herself had used it numerous times with victims and their family and friends, the tone that said "I know you're hurting, and I understand. Everything will be ok". And right now, it was the last thing she wanted to hear.

"Don't," JJ said darkly. "I don't want to talk."

"I know that," Daisy said patiently. "I know you. Or have you forgotten that I've been your friend before, as, and after the walls went up? You don't want to talk, but you need to. And when you do, you won't give everything to any one person. You're like a financial investor: diversify your portfolio, never put all your eggs in one basket. That way the hurt could never be so complete ever again."

JJ avoided Daisy's eyes. Being aware of the truth and hearing it spoken out loud sometimes felt like completely different entities.

"I'm not asking for everything, Jen. Just give me something. Let me lighten your load just a little bit."

JJ was the type of person to show complete loyalty and generosity to the people she cared about, and it tended to inspire a complete reciprocation in those who'd experienced it. Daisy was one of those people, and she was ready to do whatever it took to help JJ deal.

"All right, tell you what." Daisy eyed the soccer balls strewn across the field. "First to five goals wins. If I win, you spill. If you win, I stop trying to break into Fort Knox."

JJ mulled it over. On the one hand, she really wasn't feeling much for company. On the other hand, she could use the distraction and the physical exertion.

"Come on," Daisy said, knowing JJ would never turn down a challenge. "I coach soccer. And what exactly have you been doing? Getting lazy sitting in an office or a jet somewhere?"

JJ turned to face her.

"You're on."

…

"I can't believe you actually won."

Doubled over with her hands on her knees, Daisy looked up at JJ incredulously.

JJ grinned, juggling the ball with her knees and feet. "Too much coaching, not enough doing," she teased.

"Oh, shut up." Daisy glared at her. "And when have you had the time to play soccer?"

Still juggling to keep the ball off the ground, JJ said absentmindedly, "I occasionally have time to play with the kids."

"Kids? Plural?" Daisy asked, eyebrows rising. "Did I miss something?"

JJ stilled, suddenly realizing how weird her statement must have sounded, then explained, "Henry and Jack. Jack's the son of a friend."

"Uh-huh…"

As Daisy grinned slyly at her, JJ decided it really couldn't hurt to talk to her about stuff. Daisy was a good friend. She – JJ – didn't actually need to talk things out. That's what she told herself anyway. She was doing this for Daisy, to put her mind at ease, to reward her for coming here.

She really needed to stop lying to herself.

…

As JJ entered his home office, Robbie looked at her with apprehension, unsure as to where they stood.

"I come in peace," JJ said, putting her hands up.

They faced each other in awkward silence.

JJ cleared her throat nervously. "Daisy helped me sort some things out."

"I'm glad."

JJ hoped he would say more, but he didn't.

"Thanks for calling her."

Robbie shrugged slightly. "It's what big brothers are for."

Silence reigned again.

"I'm not mad at you," JJ said. "At least, I'm trying not to be."

Robbie's body seemed to slump as he let the apprehension go. "I really am sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Can I read it?" JJ asked tentatively.

Robbie hesitated but realized that it was time. "Of course."

As he handed it to her, JJ's eyes immediately latched on to the familiar handwriting. Tears began to well up in her eyes.

Robbie,

You've probably heard by now, and I'm sorry you weren't here for me to say good-bye.

I'm drowning here. Suffocating.

You're so far away, and there are some things for which a letter or telephone call wouldn't do.

Mom and Dad are, well, they're Mom and Dad. Mom would never want to hear such things, and Dad would just see me as weak.

As for Jenny, she's too young. I don't have the heart to burden her with problems she shouldn't even know exist.

Everyone else seems so content, so unaware. My friends, my teachers, my coach…They wouldn't understand.

I'm not blaming anyone.

I just hope you can forgive me.

I hope you all can forgive me.

I love you.

JJ tried to keep the tears from falling.

"Do you know what she's talking about? The things? The problems?"

"No, and I don't think we'll ever know," Robbie said gently.

"She could have talked to me." Tears began to run down JJ's cheeks. "I would have tried…"

"No," Robbie said firmly. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you about the note. You blamed yourself enough as it was. Don't go down that rabbit hole."

"I coul –" JJ tried again, but Robbie quickly smothered her in a hug.

"Stop." Robbie's voice returned to its previous gentleness. "Whatever you're thinking now, I thought when I first read the letter all those years ago. It won't do you any good, just like it didn't do me any good."

He felt JJ begin to shake in his arms, her slight body wracked with sobs.

He held her until her body stilled a while later.

"You ok?"

"Yeah," JJ sniffled. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Liar," Robbie said affectionately.

"Fine," JJ said with a hint of petulance. "I will be good."

"Yeah, you will be." Resting his head on hers, Robbie said, "Hotch called by the way."

"You two on a nickname basis now?"

"I like him. He looks after you."

JJ sighed and deliberately switched tracks. "So what did he call about?"

"Apparently Downes told him about the suicide note." Robbie had told Downes about the note completely unintentionally. The case on which the two had been working together happened to coincide with the 20-year anniversary of Annie's death. When Downes asked Robbie about his family, Robbie – whose mind had been dominated by conflicting thoughts on whether or not it was time to tell his family about the suicide note – had spilled everything to someone he barely knew better than a stranger. "Hotch gave me a piece of his mind, tried to make sure that I'd tell you."

"I'll be sure to thank him."

Silence settled between them again, this one comfortable.

"I'm glad you heard about it from me and not Downes."

"I'm not." Surprised, Robbie quickly raised his head to look her in the face. She smiled at his shock and joked, "If he'd told me, I probably would have pulverized his balls with my stilettos. I think I would've enjoyed that."

Robbie laughed and re-rested his head on hers, holding her tight.

They stayed like that for a while.

Pulling away slightly, JJ said, "I guess we should go make peace with Mom and Dad."

Robbie, who had always been far more argumentative with their parents, was more reluctant. "Do we have to do it now?" he whined.

JJ nudged him playfully and said, "It's better to just rip the band-aid off, right? Isn't that what you told me?"

She promptly stood and headed for the door, Robbie trudging behind.

"I hate it when you use my own words against me."

…

"All right, this is how it's going to go," JJ said forcefully as she looked at her parents. "Robbie and I have worked things out with each other. We'd like to do the same with you, but you have to reconcile with each other first.

"Here's how I see it. Dad, when something bad happens, you move past it quickly so you don't have to think about it. At least that's what happens externally. Internally, everything hurts like hell, and you're just trying to get away from it. But since you don't show it, that makes you an easy target to be accused as an unfeeling monster. And because that couldn't be farther from the truth, accusations like that hurt so much more. But once again, you don't show it, starting the cycle once again."

Robbie stepped in to speak next. "Mom, you wear your heart on your sleeve, but you also internalize everything. You rewind everything that's happened, trying to see what you could've don't differently even if you know that's a road to nowhere. You turn into yourself until you can't hold it all in anymore, making you a ticking time bomb. And quite frankly, it can make you a little terrifying to be around."

Matt and Kate Jareau stared up at their remaining children. Whatever they had expected, it certainly wasn't this. They were still angry at each other, at Robbie, at Jenny, and themselves. If anything, they had been individually preparing themselves for another shouting contest.

Feeling like he was being rebuked by his own children was unsettling. Matt opened his mouth to say something but never got the chance.

"Hear me out before either of you say anything," JJ said. "I know this isn't out typical affair, but let's be honest with ourselves. That's never worked for us. We're going to try this my way. It won't be perfect, but with any luck, it'll at least be better."

It was an unusual experience for all of them. JJ's family wasn't used to the baby taking charge, and though she had gotten used to leading briefings and such, JJ felt weird to be taking the lead within her own family.

They talked for hours, slowly chipping away at the walls each of them had constructed over the past 22 years.

"There's one last thing. It could wait, but I'd rather we get it over with." JJ explained Hotch's request – the decision he wanted them to make. "So what do we think?"

"There's no point," Robbie said. "There's nothing that can be done for the families if Downes didn't kill their girls."

"But maybe they deserve to know the truth?" Kate asked. "Can you give them a choice? Ask them if they want to know?"

"But like Robbie said, there's no point even if they say yes," Matt said. "Knowing the truth doesn't always have its merits."

Kate turned to her youngest. "Jenny, what do you think?"

JJ thought for a moment and then chose her words carefully. "I told Robbie before that I would rather not know. That's still true. However, I can't deny that learning about Downes has done us some good. If this case had never come up, we'd be stuck in the same rut we were in before."

"We were doing ok," Kate said.

"But we were going to last that way only so long as the next big disaster didn't come up. And it did. To be honest, I was getting tired of always feeling on tenterhooks around the family as if one false step would destroy everything we'd regained."

"So you think the families should be told then?" Matt asked.

JJ shook her head. "I said it's still true that I'd rather not know. I'm sure that Robbie would've told us about Annie's note eventually, and we would've gone through identical steps of what just happened. I'm just saying that we shouldn't disregard the other option entirely."

"Mom?" Robbie looked towards Kate. "The rest of seem to have come to a decision. What about you?"

Like her daughter, Kate took a moment to think before speaking. "I agree. Knowing what happened does nothing but hurt. If families haven't moved on yet, there'll be another way."

"All right, it's decided then," JJ said. "I'll let Hotch know."

…

JJ had called Hotch to tell him that he could take the team back to DC when they were done, that she had called Will, who had agreed to bring Henry up to spend time with her family, and that she was truly taking a vacation for the first time since she went on maternity leave. ("As if that counted as a vacation," Hotch had replied jokingly.)

Her family hadn't fully healed yet – it was too soon for that, but at least they were on the road to recovery truly for the first time.

The discomfort, the yelling and screaming, the lies… She couldn't blame her family for any of it. They were perfectly human, and therefore entirely flawed. Just like she was. Just like everyone was.

She stared off into the woods. They didn't seem so bad anymore.

…

One Year Later

"JJ, can I see you in my office?" Hotch called from the balcony.

JJ, who had been teasing Morgan with Prentiss and Garcia, excused herself and made her way up to Hotch's office.

"Close the door," Hotch said as she entered.

"What's going on?" she asked as she walked to the front of his desk.

"Hayden Downes was killed in prison yesterday."

JJ's face remained impassive. She simply said, "Ok" and turned to leave.

"I've been asked to clear you," Hotch said before she could reach the door.

"Excuse me?" JJ turned back to look at him.

"You and your family have both the motive and the connections to make this happen."

"We didn't want him dead," JJ said, shaking her head.

Hotch's eyebrows lifted. "You've spoken about having him killed?"

"The death penalty, Hotch," JJ said exasperatedly. "Since Robbie's an ADA, we talked about whether or not the death penalty was a possible outcome for this case."

"Then why not go for it? I can't say he didn't deserve it."

"Maybe it's a little stupid. Maybe it's a little sentimental, but Annie's gone. And we didn't want Downes to be closer to her than we were, especially since he had a… thing for dead girls."

He scrutinized her demeanor and her posture. "All right, that's it then."

Not long after JJ left, Rossi entered Hotch's office.

"Everything ok?" Rossi asked upon seeing Hotch's pensive expression.

Hotch looked up at Rossi. "Downes was killed."

"Good for him," Rossi said flippantly.

"I was asked to clear JJ."

"And?" Rossi prompted.

"She said she wasn't involved."

"But?"

"I'd like to believe her, but past experiences…"

"She's not Greenaway." Hotch looked up in surprise. Rossi continued, "I don't know exactly what happened with her, but JJ is –"

"Actually," Hotch interrupted him. "I was thinking about me."

It was Rossi's turn to look surprised.

"In many ways, JJ and I are very much alike. (At this, Rossi tilted his head with a single raised eyebrow that clearly said, "Thank you, Captain Obvious!") If there's one thing that would drive us to murder, it's family. For me, it was Foyet. What if it was Downes for her?"

"Your situations are completely different. You killed Foyet because he was a threat."

"I'm not sure I would've spared him even if he wasn't a threat anymore," Hotch admitted. "Not after Haley…"

Not wanting to travel down that path, Rossi said, "Downes was never a threat to JJ or her family."

"I have little doubt that Downes was serious about wanting a go at JJ's niece," Hotch countered.

"Maybe," Rossi conceded. "But if anything, we know JJ. Similarities to you aside, Downes was in prison for life without chance of parole, and I genuinely believe that JJ was content with that. And I think, despite your doubts, you believe that too."

Hotch glanced out the window to see JJ ruffle Reid's hair.

"Yeah, I think I do."

…

JJ stared at her sister's grave.

"It's over, Annie. Downes is dead. He can't hurt anyone anymore. Truth be told, we kind of wanted him to suffer in prison, get his comeuppance. I guess someone else had other ideas."

JJ paused as the wind blew through her hair, some of it making its way towards her mouth. She tucked her hair behind her ears as the wind died back down.

"I doubt he'll have ended up in the same place as you, but if you ever run into him, I've found a nice, strong kick to the balls works wonders."

"Jen?"

She turned to see her family waiting for her. She smiled at the scene. Robbie was watching her. Henry was in her mother's arms. Will was talking with Robbie's daughter and wife. Her father was goofing off with Robbie's boys.

"Coming," JJ called back. She patted the tombstone affectionately. "I'll talk to you later, ok?"

As JJ rejoined her family, Robbie slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"You good?"

JJ smiled up at him. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

Her skeletons were finally put to rest.

…

A/N: Thanks to Angela, awsome1000, canny-bairn, crazyobsession101, Cribellate, dino-dog83, journey4eva, kdzl, Laurenhd08, llunaisol, Riley_Bernard, SkySydfan24, smg55, susannah2000, and sydcasy for reviewing at some point(s) along the way. (I hope I didn't forget anyone or spell anyone's pen name wrong, and if I did, I'm terribly sorry.)

[I feel obliged to mention… Like with JJ's sister's name, I pillaged the names of JJ's parents from another fanfic: gf7's "In Times Like These".]