A/N: Spoilers for the episodes "North Mammon", "200", and "The Forever People". And like with the Nas chapter, the songs featured here have some strong language as well. Also, a warning that there will be some reference to the torture JJ had endured later on in this chapter as well. So heads up to readers/listeners once again, just in case.

One chapter to go after this one! Thank you once again to everybody who's reviewed, favorited, and followed this series. As always, I greatly appreciate your support.

Songs: "Killing In The Name";"Know Your Enemy"';"Fistful Of Steel"-Rage Against The Machine

JJ: *Looking through an unsub's CDs* "This guy doesn't even have any Rage Against The Machine."

*Everyone looks curiously at JJ*

JJ: "…what, I rock." - "Unknown Subject" (Season 7)

JJ would never admit it aloud, but Reid had been eerily spot on in his assessment of the kind of girl she was when she was younger. She shouldn't have been surprised – he was a profiler, after all, not to mention one of her best friends – but the accuracy of his description still threw her a little anyway.

The "small-town girl" part was no secret – he and the rest of the team had always known she'd come from rural Pennsylvania. Corn-fed? Obvious guess – rural area, farmlands galore, very much a "meat and potatoes" sort of people living there.

Size zero? Yeah, she'd always been thin. Not stick thin, but she'd definitely been blessed with some good genes.

The mean girl part wasn't true, though. Not intentionally so, at least, not the way Reid had implied it. She never bullied other kids, or got into physical fights. She stayed away from the snobby girls, in part because of their general attitude towards others, and also because she was a typical middle-class girl, not one of the rich kids, and she knew they always looked down their noses at people like her.

But when she was with her friends? She acted like a typical teenage girl. Gossiping about the other girls she didn't like, mocking some aspect of their looks or behavior, passing ridiculous drawings to friends of those people she didn't get on well with.

She could be pretty ruthless on the soccer field, too – a person could be her best friend off the field, but once they had to compete against her, friendship went out the window. And for a few years after her sister's death, whenever the anniversary rolled around, she often withdrew, and wasn't in the mood to make friends.

Heck, even her music choices weren't always sweet and innocent. JJ may have grown up in a rural town, but she wasn't as into country music as many of the other townspeople were. She liked some teenybopper pop at one point, but moved on from that fairly quickly. She much preferred to rock out. Her sister had been a fan of some big rock bands, and they seemed to be the main thing allowing her to cope with whatever demons she was struggling with.

JJ could certainly relate to that. Her sister's suicide had left her angry, confused, frustrated. She was so stressed out and wound up from throwing herself into her schoolwork, bending over backwards to find some way to get out of her small town and on to bigger, better things. She had to live in an area where people still held some very outdated views that didn't fit their "Leave it to Beaver" lifestyles, views that she just couldn't begin to understand. After she'd joined the BAU, she sometimes thought about those neighbors of hers on certain cases, and could only begin to imagine what they'd have to say about some of the people she encountered along the way. Then she'd immediately decide she was better off not knowing.

In those moments, rock music was a great way to de-stress. Whenever she felt a case hadn't gone well, this music was a way for her to vent. She could listen to it and think of her sister on the days she found herself especially missing her. If she or someone she loved had been in danger on a case, rock music was just the thing to blast as she kicked a soccer ball around or pounded away at a punching bag. And if her job involved some sort of government screwup, well, she was happy to listen to some band rant about how much the very people she worked for really could suck sometimes.

She'd taken quite a bit of glee in surprising Reid and Morgan when she tossed out a band name like Rage Against the Machine. Sure, she may be a small-town girl, corn-fed, and a size zero.

But she was no pushover. And she was always more than happy to defy expectations.

"Killing In The Name":

JJ couldn't take her eyes off the photo of the three smiling teenagers. It was from a decade or so ago, but it still felt like yesterday in so many ways.

What had become of those friends of hers from school, anyway? They'd promised to keep in touch after graduation, despite going to different colleges, but as often seemed to be the way, time and distance made all those promises slowly fade away. Wherever they were, she hoped they were doing well. She even briefly wondered if they ever saw her on the news. A small smile spread across her face as she imagined their reactions.

She turned her gaze back to the file for the recent case then, that smile quickly fading. This was one case she'd be more than happy to finish her report for as fast as possible. Those poor girls, being forced to make such a horrifying choice. And Brooke… JJ shuddered, the girl's haunted eyes appearing in her mind's eye. She hoped to God that Brooke would be able to get some good, proper therapy. Polly, too.

And they were ordered to kill a friend by some jackass who assumed everyone shared his worldview. What was it he'd said when caught? He simply "showed them who they really are"? Assuming everyone walked around day after day with the urge to kill somebody lurking within them, for whatever reason.

JJ refused to believe that. She'd gotten angry with people in the past, sure – her blood still boiled at the memory of the nasty barbs the girls' parents had thrown at each other when they were all at the police station.

But she couldn't fathom the idea of ever killing somebody. She'd seen all the excuses unsubs had come up with in this line of work for why people had to die, and not one reason ever made any sense to her.

They're the bad guys, though. Their reasons aren't supposed to make sense.

Did that mean the good guys' reasons did make sense, though? JJ had to admit, it still threw her whenever she actually thought about or witnessed her teammates killing people. They may have had to do it sometimes as the result of their job, and their reasons were certainly more logical than that of the unsubs they chased. She understood that.

But there was still something incredibly jarring about seeing sweet, innocent Reid, or family man Hotch, or big brother Morgan, or close friend Elle, even holding guns, let alone actually shooting someone with them. And while they always did their best to remain as objective as possible, JJ knew full well there were days when their aggressive reactions to unsubs weren't strictly job-related. Almost as though they were the ones victimized by these criminals (and sometimes, they were).

Everyone has a breaking point, I guess. I wonder what mine is. Would she be willing to kill someone who attacked a friend? What if she ever had a child? Or a husband? Would she do any and everything possible to keep them safe?

Of course I would.

Would she have the nerve to do what Brooke Chambers did, though? Probably not. She'd sooner let a captor kill her before allowing them to hurt anyone else. She may have been a quiet, unassuming woman, but JJ had always been raised to think for herself, and not blindly follow authority. Even now, much as she respected Hotch and his leadership, she'd still question him if she was unsure about an order of his. And to his credit, he'd at the very least hear her out.

Brooke and Polly were clearly much more accommodating, though. They didn't hold out too long before they and Kelly actually started debating who among them would be the unlucky one to die. Made sense on the one hand…they wanted to survive. But they were also being asked to kill a friend. And they just talked themselves into doing that?

What if they'd kept saying no? What if they sat there and forced this unsub to make the decision? Would he have done it? Would he have finally let them go? Would they all be gone?

One girl never got to figure out any of those answers. And two more were now left to ask tthemselves those questions for the rest of their lives.

JJ rubbed her eyes, trying desperately to shake the increasingly dark thoughts away. This was why she was glad to be on the media side of things. Much as she respected and admired what her friends did, she didn't think she'd ever be able to stand having to think about things like this day in and day out, and see the sorts of terrible things they saw. She'd take annoying reporters over gruesome crime scenes any day.

JJ shut the file, shoving it aside for the time being, and slipped her school photo back into its special spot within a small planner in her purse. She'd heard about that new site, Facebook, that had started becoming more and more popular lately.

Maybe she could look up her high school friends on there once she got home.

"Know Your Enemy":

She could still see Nadia, sprawled out on her cot, unmoving.

Bam! That's for her.

Still pictured that lost doll, needing a child to love it.

Pow! Another strike on a little girl's behalf.

Still heard that desert explosion, so loud, so close to her ear…

She'd have another child now if it weren't for that damn bomb. JJ's fists flew fast and furious now.

She startled. Someone was growling. Low, menacing, full of fury. And there was screaming. Yelling.

"JJ…"

Everything blurred together. The noises, the movements, a dark shape suddenly appearing in her line of vision. She struck out yet again.

"JJ…"

She'd take him down. Whoever he was…

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA, hey, easy, JJ!"

The sound of Derek Morgan's commanding voice slowly drew JJ back. She blinked, trying to refocus.

…what…?

Her eyes began to slowly take in her surroundings. She was in the FBI training room. The punching bag next to her was slowing down its sway. Morgan stood before her, his mouth guard in one of his gloved hands, both of which were now held up in a protective stance. The rock music she'd picked to play earlier still blared from the nearby stereo.

Oh. Yeah. She pulled off her headgear and removed her own mouth guard, dropping both to the floor as she shook her head.

Morgan quickly went to turn down the volume on the stereo before cautiously stepping towards JJ, resting his hands on her upper arms. "Forget where you were there for a moment?" he asked, attempting to ease the sudden tension with one of his infamous cheeky smiles.

"Yeah. Yeah, that, that must be it," JJ replied, her voice trailing off as she backed away. "Sorry about that." She put one hand to her forehead as she turned and walked away. Morgan's smile faded, his face now scrunched in confusion.

"It's cool. I've been there, too. It's easy to get caught up in the excitement of these exercises sometimes."

Now her back was to him as she quickly pulled her gloves off. Something was definitely up. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, folding his arms.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Like you said, I just got a little too caught up there for a moment."

Yeah, there's no way he's buying that one, Jayje.

And she was right. Morgan came to stand in front of her now, leaning in to catch her eye. "JJ, can you answer a question for me?" He waited until she returned his gaze. "Why'd you sign on for this? You never showed a desire to be a profiler before. You were a media liaison. You liked that job. Yet now that you're on the team again, you're not even jumping at the chance to get it back."

He placed his hands on his hips. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we'll have an extra member in the field again." The sudden wistfulness in his voice didn't escape JJ.

"Exactly. Emily's gone." JJ matched his soft tone, her voice full of sympathy. "Don't you want someone to help you guys out out there?"

"Of course we do." Extra manpower in case we ever find that sonofabitch who took her away.

"So why are you asking me if I want to do this?"

Morgan shrugged. "I'm just curious."

JJ sighed at that, heading over to a nearby bench to sit down. Morgan joined her, waiting patiently as he let her calm herself down and gather her thoughts.

"Look, JJ, if being a profiler's what you really want to do, I'll gladly help you get there." Morgan placed a hand on her back. "But this is a question I ask everyone I train. Most of the time it's because I need to know they're serious about this job, and aren't just looking to 'kick some ass'."

"Or kick down doors like some big action hero?" JJ joked, smirking and pointedly nudging Morgan's shoulder.

Morgan chuckled. "Okay, point taken. But seriously, I do want people to understand what they're getting into. And I know you do," he continued, holding a hand up to stop any potential protest. "I just wonder what's changed with you recently."

"Well, you mentioned one pretty big change earlier," JJ said.

"Emily?" Her nod confirmed his theory. He certainly understood that reason. The increase in training sessions with many potential recruits in the past few months hadn't exactly escaped his notice. Good practice for them, and a safe way for him to vent his rage at Ian Doyle, as well as his despair over the loss of his close friend. Now, with JJ, he was getting to exercise that frustration and pain with someone who would truly understand how he felt.

"Aside from that…" JJ's voice interrupted his train of thought. "I dunno. Just…getting suddenly pulled away from you guys as I did last year, not being able to fight Strauss on any of that, being in a job I didn't want and which I only grew to hate…" She shook her head, rubbing her hands on her thighs before resting them on her knees. "I guess I just got tired of not being able to have a say in anything that happened. I've always been there for the aftermath, to help pick up the pieces." Nadia. Her daughter. My baby…

"I feel like everything's spun wildly out of control lately." She bit her lip at that, trying to keep her voice steady. "I guess I figure if I'm right there in the action, maybe – maybe I can better understand these people we're up against, and be more active in trying to stop this stuff from happening somehow, or something."

"Doesn't always work that way," Morgan said wryly, giving her a sympathetic smile.

"Good way to vent over what they do, then?" JJ asked hopefully.

He considered that. "Can't argue with that one."

"And besides, with social media being what it is nowadays, do people even really need a traditional media liaison anymore?" JJ tried to make a joke out of it, but that part of it all had bothered her a little, too. She liked social media as much as the next person, but very much lamented the stress and confusion and spread of misinformation it brought to their job sometimes.

"Good point," Morgan said.

"I do miss my old job. And if you guys ever do need help with the media, you can always turn to me. But I just really feel like it's time for a change. I don't want to sit on the sidelines anymore."

Morgan studied JJ for a moment, hearing the deep honesty in her words, seeing the determination in her eyes. There was a detected anger lurking, too, though. He knew it. And he sensed it wasn't just tied to everything with Emily.

He knew all too well about the wish to keep one's own secrets, though. She'd talk if and when she was good and ready.

"All right. Then let's get back out there, Blondie." Another pat on the back and a wave of the hand.

JJ suited up again. Let's do this.

"Fistful Of Steel":

JJ shook. Violently.

It was cold. So, so very cold. The sweatiness from her chase atop the roof had since chilled, and every time JJ hugged her arms tighter against her waist, her damp clothes clung to her even more, adding to her intense shivering. She gladly welcomed any hugs her teammates gave her, for the comfort as well as the intense warmth of their bodies.

She didn't dare look directly in their eyes at first, though. Too scared of what she might've seen in there.

Would they be angry? She'd lied to them yet again, and kept one hell of a big secret about her State Department job in the process. One that had just put her life in serious danger yet again, and which had risked her teammates' jobs as well.

Would they be sad? She sure didn't want their pity. No way was JJ about to be seen a victim. She didn't want them walking on eggshells around her, whispering and constantly asking if she was okay and fussing over her. She was fine.

Well, okay, no, she wasn't. Not at this moment. But she would be, once she got checked out by the medical professionals and had her psych evaluation.

JJ watched everyone milling around, talking to the other law enforcement officials who'd come in. The flashing lights from the nearby ambulance illuminated her face as she walked towards it. Rossi passed her briefly, draping his coat around her shoulders, before Hotch called him away.

Just then, a flash of white caught her eye. She looked over, and saw a gurney carrying a man completely covered by a sheet.

Hastings.

JJ quickly scrambled into the ambulance then, allowing herself to be poked and prodded and examined. The shivering started up again, too, but this time, JJ knew it wasn't from the damp clothes or the aftershock from her adrenaline-fueled fight.

It was so ironic. From October of 2010 to May of 2011, all she could think about was wanting to come back to the BAU. She missed her friends terribly. She hated her then new job, and that hatred had only built the longer she worked there. She was tired of going overseas every month or two, and the things she saw and dealt with in other parts of the world, well... Chasing terrorists was a whole different ballgame from that of chasing serial killers. JJ wanted so badly to come back, to stick it to Strauss and show why she couldn't break up this team.

Now, though, at this moment, as JJ looked over at Emily, who was currently making her way into the ambulance, grabbing her hand and settling in beside her, she finally truly understood why her friend had ultimately left the BAU for good.

ooo

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The wall clock in her kitchen was the only sound JJ heard at that moment. She was currently curled up on her couch, the light on the stand next to it flipped on. No way was she planning on sitting in total darkness tonight.

Why did I read that file? Why? Why, why, why?

Damn you, Reid. Just because he was so adept at finding a way to sympathize with people like Hankel or Amanda or Nathan Harris, that didn't mean she needed to do the same! Yes, she knew getting into unsubs' heads was part of the deal of becoming a profiler.

But Morgan and Rossi didn't always show sympathy for the unsubs they dealt with on the job. How many times had she overheard Morgan bellowing at some suspect, or Rossi going into intimidation mode? She'd also seen many examples of Hotch losing it on cases when children were in danger – it was the big thing she always connected and empathized with him over. The man had beat Foyet to death with his bare hands.

So why should she try and feel any guilt over Askari's death? Or Hastings'? Why should she care about the circumstances that led them to turn into the evil creeps they were? They'd nearly left a sweet little boy motherless, a wonderful, loving man a widower. They'd nearly drowned her, they'd drugged her, they'd even almost…

JJ closed her eyes, folding her hands and touching them to her lips. Steady. Relax. Reid may have left you that file, but he didn't make you read it.

I had to, though.

Why?

Because…

JJ's eyes widened.

Because why?

She wanted to see what she'd been up against? No. She knew firsthand the kind of men she was dealing with when they held her captive. One didn't have to be a profiler to take a guess that Askari, and probably Hastings, were she to look at his file, too, had been violently mistreated when they were younger. People who are raised in well-adjusted homes generally do not go on to hold others captive.

Deep, morbid curiosity? Yeah, there was some of that, she'd admit it.

But she'd read it, and had his voice in her head the entire way home. Taunting her. Mocking her. Threatening her. How'd that old saying go? "Curiosity killed the cat." Well, it'd certainly terrified this one. She was right back in that small room, seeing Cruz next to her, so helpless. She could feel the rope burns on her wrists, the pain from being stretched out, the struggle to breathe as she coughed water out of her lungs and nose.

So why did he give her that file? Reid had to know full well her reading it would only bring those memories right back. He'd been there himself in the past, for God's sake!

But he didn't let those memories win. You don't think Hankel's voice taunts him at night? You don't think his ankle doesn't flare up and feel tender every now and again? You don't think Georgia was on his mind during his time in that polygamist compound?

And what about the others? JJ realized. Emily still had that "tattoo" from Doyle. Hotch wound up in the hospital again because of "complications" from Foyet's attack all those years ago. Morgan had to come face to face with Buford again as an adult. Twice.

Yet somehow, they'd all figured out a way to deal with those situations. Now it's my turn.

Askari wants to take my family away? Well, he'd have to ask Izzy how easy it was to do that.

He wants to make me feel like I can't do my job? Her teammates would be right there to silence that little voice.

He wants to leave me scared, and haunted, make my life disappear?

She'd never be able to completely forget what happened. JJ knew that for a fact.

But she'd reigned in her fear when she was held captive. She had her family, her friends to turn to on the days it became too much for her to bear. They've all been there, they all know what it's like, and those that don't, she knows they'll always support her. They'll know what to say and do. They love her. And she loves them.

And Askari didn't know about her sister. He didn't know that she'd long ago vowed to never travel down the same road Roz had gone, no matter what happened to her. He didn't win the night she was in his clutches.

She'll be damned if he's going to win now.

As always, reviews/critiques/etc. are welcome.