(Hey guys! Chapter 9! I'm feeling very inspired, so I banged out another chapter. This chapter features the POV of another BAU member, something we haven't had so far. Let me know what you think! Jordon)

"Heroes aren't born, they' re cornered. Oh, I was cornered. And I found out that I was no hero." James Belushi

A week passes, and then two more. The bruises on my face and stomach fade from angry purple and blue, to green and yellow, until they finally disappear. It's October and we are all gathered at Rossi's home for a Halloween party. Nothing huge, just the team gathered together to eat pasta and candy and watch old horror movies. This is how I find myself sandwiched between Emily and Hotch at the dining room table. Rossi slides a plate, heaped with noodles and creamy sauce in front of me. My breath catches in my throat.

I can't remember the last time I had pasta. I have been so strong for so long. But I know that if I take a bite of this meal I will consume it all, and ask for seconds, and then I'll be sinking my teeth into chocolate bars and twizzlers, letting the sugar saturate my bloodstream and the calories coagulate into fat under my skin. I can't do that. I can't.

This morning the scale read 105. That number should have brought me nothing but pleasure and pride, but I was terrified to find out that it was just another milestone. I have lost over twenty five pounds but when I look in the mirror all I can see is the pouch of fat on the front of my stomach. Even as my my hipbones become more angular, even as my ribs become more prominent, I still can't get rid of my stomach. My arms and legs have slimmed down, but my ass is still gigantic, covered in lard. I don't understand how I'm failing at this.

At 105 pounds, I should be beautiful. I haven't been this thin since I was in high school, maybe even junior high. But I'm not. I'm still fat. I'm still a failure. And now, my hair has started to fall out. I find strands in the shower drain, woven through my brush after I comb it. My nails constantly have a blue tint, so I've taken to wearing nail polish. I'm cold all of the time and it has nothing to do with the chilling fall weather. My skin, once tan from hours spent outside playing soccer and running for fun and spending time with those I love, is pale. I'm still not good enough.

"Jayje, how's your pasta?" Emily asks from my right.

"I uh… I need more water." I slowly stand and take a few steps to the kitchen and refill my glass. I shakily take a few sips, acutely aware of the pounding of my heart in my chest. My hands shake and I hold the glass with two hands, afraid that I will drop it. I have to figure out how to get through tonight. For breakfast I had eaten my two hard boiled eggs with black coffee and for lunch I had only had an apple. That put me at 224 calories. Somewhere in my mind, I knew that eating 224 calories was madness. If it were anyone else I could have easily pointed out that the body needed more than this just to perform basic functions like breathing and walking. But it wasn't someone else. This was me and I can't eat like everyone else. Oh my god I wish I could. I wish that I was like my teammates in the next room. They eat whatever they want without a second thought and still look great. I'm not like them. I had always known this but every day it was becoming more apparent. You will never be as good as them. I took another breath and walked back into the dining room where everyone was quietly talking and laughing. I stopped and leaned against the doorway, taking them in. Spencer look up and saw me standing there, his smile falling slightly.

"JJ? Are you okay?"

"Yeah! Sorry, it's just nice to see us all together." I walk back to my chair, still unsure of how to get around eating the plate of calorie heavy Italian food in front of me.

I slowly take a bite of the accompanying salad, taking care to pick from the lettuce that hadn't touched the sauce. I concentrated on eating the lettuce and spinach, cutting the leaves into pieces and taking large gulps of water between bites. Suddenly I realize that the table is silent. I look up from my plate to find everyone is looking at me.

"You still haven't tried your pasta, Jen." Rossi swirls his wine in his glass, looking at me with a blank face.

"I… uhm. I don't…" My mind has gone completely blank. Shit say something, anything, just make everyone stop looking at you like that. But I can't.

"Is everything okay?" Emily softly asks.

"Of course, I'm-"

"You're fine. Yeah, we know." Derek spits from across the table.

My mouth drops open in shock. "Excuse me?!"

"I'm sorry but I can't bite my tongue any longer. What, you thought we weren't going to notice? Or maybe just sit silently by?"

Panic buzzes through my head and a metallic taste fills my mouth. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"JJ something's wrong, we're worried about you." Pen responds.

"Nothing is wrong. I am fine!"

"Stop lying to us!" shouts Morgan, throwing down his napkin.

"Jayje, we're your team. You can tell us anything." Emily tries to put her hand on mine but I pull it away.

"I'm sorry, I guess I missed the memo that this was everyone gang up on JJ night. I think I'll go." Even as I hear myself I realize that I am spinning out of control. I finally understand how unsubs must feel when we corner them.

I push my chair out from the table roughly. The world spins around me and my heart pounds even harder but I ignore it. I storm into the living room, grabbing my coat from the couch.

"JJ wait!" I ignore Emily's voice and grab my purse from the entry table. A hand latches on to my elbow and I whip around to tell them to get the fuck off of me but I don't get the chance. The quick movement sends me entire world into a spin and I feel my body begin to slump downwards, plunging into darkness before I hit the ground.

Emily POV

When Morgan goes to grab JJ's arm, she whips around, her teeth bared. But the ferocious look is quickly replaced with terror before her eyes roll back. She slumps to the ground, Morgan just managing to grab her before her head hits the ground.

"Jayje. JJ!" his voice is panicked as he gently lays her down. Her face is pale as paper, and her cheekbones are more prominent then I've ever seen, looking as though they could puncture through her skin. I stand there in shock, looking down at my friend as Hotch joins Morgan beside her. He feels for a pulse and jerks his head up to Rossi, standing on the other side of the living room.

"Call 911, her pulse is faint and erratic. JJ can you hear me?" He gently pats his hand against her face. After a few moments her eyes flutter open, not focusing.

"Ho… Hotch?"

"JJ an ambulance is on the way."

"No!" Her eyes finally focus and she fights to sit upright, but Morgan and Hotch gently restrain her. "No I'm okay, I'm fine."

"Jayje you fainted in Rossi's living room. You need to get checked out." Morgan's voice is gentler now. I can hear Penelope softly crying behind me.

"I promise I'm fine, I just stood up too fast. Please." She looks imploringly from Morgan to Hotch, then to me. I've never heard this kind of hysteria in her voice.

"Jayje we won't call the EMTs but you have to talk to us. Honestly. And you have to eat something." She frantically nods her head and they help her stand up. Rossi hangs up the phone and fetches JJ's glass of water. Hotch guides her to the couch and Penelope sits next to her, wrapping her in a hug. The rest of us either take a seat or lean against the fireplace, sharing nervous looks.

We had all suspected something was wrong for some time. Of course we did. But we didn't want to believe it. Not JJ. She was so alive, full of confidence and love for everyone around her. She was our rock, the glue that held us together. When she began to lose weight, we looked the other way. We had physically strenuous jobs. It happens. When she became more reserved, skipping team dinners and declining offers to grab lunch, we reasoned that we spent too much time together. Everyone was entitled to some alone time. But after awhile we couldn't ignore it. She was dropping weight so fast, her beautiful body reduced to bones and angles. She constantly had bags under her eyes and there was no color in her cheeks. She covered it up with makeup, but we could still tell. But even when we noticed her having more and more dizzy spells, becoming irritable, and rarely eating in front of us (or as it would seem, anything) we were all reluctant to say anything. What if we were wrong? But more importantly, what if we were right?

(Next chapter is the big confrontation. Oh boy. Please review!)