Author's Note: Given that I've been playing with Mickey Mouse for the past two weeks, I'm not even sorry for my absence this time. :) Well, maybe a tiny bit. Which is why you get this now rather than in a few days when I have a day off from work and my jet-lag has subsided. Oh, and thank you for the reviews and alerts; keep up the good work. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. If I did, Strauss would die a horribly painful death. Hm, maybe I should kill her off in my next story. I'm sure I'd enjoy writing that, almost as much as I'm sure you guys would enjoy reading it. Am I wrong?

HELP

The journey to JJ's was nothing short of a blur. She ran pretty much every that red light she came across, broke almost every traffic law ever made, and experienced worse road rage than she ever had, but that was the least of her problems.

Pulling up outside JJ's, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, and wondered for a second if she had frantically raced here for no reason. She hoped that she had. Even if the frantic eyes that JJ would see as she burst through her door meant that the decision had been made for her - that she would have to tell the younger woman about the notes - then that was fine by her. In fact, she now longed for that option that she had disregarded before - if something had happened to JJ, it would be her fault, because she hadn't bothered to tell her in the first place.

As she approached JJ's front door, her gun drawn in that precise way that she was taught many years ago, pressing herself to the wall and peeking through a small window in the entrance way. Nothing. Freeing one of her hands and twisting the handle, her stomach churned as she realised that it was open; that wasn't a good sign. She checked each room, just as she had grown accustomed to but.. Nothing.

There was nothing.

Returning to the living room, she pressed her hand to her stomach. JJ was probably out running errands.. right? But she wasn't stupid, and when that notion was coupled with the fact that the blonde's door was left unlocked, it really didn't seem likely and did nothing to ease the twists and swoops in her gut.

She blinked her eyes a few times, but before the third blink was complete, a shot of JJ's work desk flashed into her mind. This wasn't right. JJ's home was never untidy, ever, but it was certainly never like this. She knew that the blonde liked her home to have, well, a homely feel to it, and everything was far too precise, far too neat, far too perfect. Something really wasn't right and as she lifted JJ sweater from the back of the sofa - the only thing in this whole damn room that looked out of place - her confirmation fell to the ground.

Call yourself a profiler? Took you long enough. I'll make this one simple. I have something of yours. You know where to find me. Oh and please, do take your time. I'd love nothing more than to get to know Jennifer properly.

Emily didn't just feel nauseous this time, she was fighting to hold back the drive heaves as everything that she had consumed that morning, which amounted to absolutely nothing, forced it's way to her throat. She didn't know where to find this person; how the hell could she? The last time that she had seen her was years before she had joined the BAU, in a completely different state. There was no location that she could link her to here, not even indirectly or with the help of her clearly not-so-helpful profiling skills.

She felt so damn useless. She should be long gone, already on her way to find JJ. But on her way where exactly? She'd hit a brick wall, and she needed help.

Reluctantly, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She hovered briefly over Morgan's name, feeling slightly guilty that she hadn't let her best friend in. She'd have to explain herself later on that one though, because there was only one person who could give her the information that she needed right now and though he was everything that she could ever ask for in a friend, it wasn't him.

Restlessly, she tapped her finger against the back of her phone; the call seemed to take forever to connect, and she almost jumped when Garcia finally answered.

"The epitome of all things wonderful, how may I save your beau-"

Emily cut her off. "Garcia, I need your help. And I need you to not ask too many questions."

Garcia's ears perked up, she could hear the desperation in Emily's voice. "Of course, lovely lady. What is it?"

With that question, the wall that she had hit crumpled down around Emily. She did not enjoy feeling helpless, especially when she was putting JJ's life in danger, and instead of protecting her, she was sat here, lost and useless. Tears burned their way to glaze over her eyes. "I'm at JJ's place." She paused for a second, coughing away the evidence of her inner turmoil from her voice. "She's gone, Garcia. Someone's taken her. I should have told you sooner but.." She trailed off before she grabbed her wandering emotions. "Look, I just need an address."

"Oh god! I should call Hotch and everyone. Em you-"

"Garcia, please." Emily bit sharply; she didn't have time for panic mode. "Sarah Elizabeth James, thirty years old, her last known address was 1724 Willis Drive, Chicago. I need her recent address or any place locally that she is linked to."

"Okay.." Emily heard the feverish clicking of Garcia's fingers hitting the keys in the background as the redhead spoke distractedly. "You'll have it as soon as I do."

"Thank you."

Emily was about to end the call when Garcia added. "Em.. you do know I have to tell them, don't you? I'm not sure why you're so set on keeping this a secret, but if JJ's in danger.. If you're in danger.."

Emily knew that Garcia was right. Why was she risking her girlfriend's life simply for the sake of keeping her private life private? But on the flip side, there was every chance that she could inadvertently make the situation worse by bringing in the whole team. She sighed. "If you don't hear from me in one hour, then do what you have to do." With that, she ended the call.

Glancing down to the sweater still clutched in her hands, she perched herself on the back of the sofa and brought the item to her face. She inhaled deeply, her eyes falling closed as JJ's scent flew through her nose and her entire body began to ache with regret.

It was a given that she would never want to lose JJ, but in that second she realised just how much that was true; just how empty her life would be without her in it. The mere thought of her not being around anymore caused every part of her to shut down and become hyper sensitized all at once. Her brain dizzied and emptied at the same time, the lump that rose from her heart to her throat almost suffocated her, her legs lost all strength, refusing to hold her anymore. Nothing worked.

She made no attempts to fight for strength and instead let herself slide down to the floor, still clutching JJ's sweater to her face; an act of defeat, yet her whole body was still at war. Her tears flowed freely into the material in her hands, and whilst they provided a welcome sense of release, that throbbing ache in her mind, in her whole damn body, would not ebb.

She cursed herself for wasting so much time, for pretending, for running away, and even more for the occasions when the determination to keep up a pretence that was a result of her own fears had hurt JJ. She had had so many reasons and justifications at the time, reasons that seemed entirely logical then; but now she saw that they had been excuses and nothing but. The thought of admitting to JJ everything that she felt had once terrified her. And now, the notion of never having that chance scared her far more than that ever had.

What if this was it? What if saying too little was actually far worse than saying too much? When did it suddenly become too late? She wasn't ready for her to be gone; there was still so much that she had left to tell her, to show her, to share with her. JJ was her strength, she'd changed her entire world, whether she'd fully realised it before or not; how was she supposed to just be okay without that now?

Before she could answer the continuous succession of questions piercing her busy mind, or even begin to face the horribly real possibilities that were currently torturing her, her phone buzzed in her pocket, snapping her from her trance as she swiped at the tears flooding her cheeks.

She opened the message and as she read the address sent by Garcia, the tension in her body lifting, even if only slightly. The information that she clutched in her hand gave her something that she had lost all sense of just seconds before; hope. Maybe there was still time; she'd let JJ down once, she wasn't about to do it again.

JJ's sweater never left her hand as she rose to her feet, or as she exited the house, or as she made her way to her car. And once inside the vehicle, and on her way to the address that she'd just received, it sat in her lap; she needed this part of JJ with her, close to her, especially if it was the last part of JJ that she would ever have close to her again.