Author's Note: Here we are, folks - the end. This last bit wraps up the tale and concludes the healing process for our lovely ladies. I've truly enjoyed this one. CM was one of the lucky ones to have two fantastic strong women - shame that CBS screwed it up.

One small character note - the brother mentioned for JJ here is the same one used in my other story IN TIMES LIKE THESE.

Thank you for reading this and for your wonderful comments. They have all been appreciated. Please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts now.

She wants to keep her word and go home after two weeks, but it takes her longer than that. It's harder to leave the safety of Pennsylvania.

Harder than she'd ever imagined it would be.

She's always wanted more than the life of a small town girl.

She's always had bigger dreams and greater ambitions.

And yet, from the moment she had stepped off the plane and slid into her brother's strong country boy muscular arms, tears already cascading down her cheeks, she had wondered if it would really be such a horrible life.

Get married, have a family, stay home and raise them.

Simple, uncomplicated.

Generally devoid of sociopaths.

What makes her finally go home after five weeks, what makes her get finally get back on the plane and return to Virginia, is the burning desire within her not to let Garrett Holloway win.

If she becomes someone other than who she is – if she stops being JJ, the girl who fought like hell to get out of a small town - then he has won.

And she simply will not allow that.

Maybe it's stubbornness.

Maybe it's pride.

Whatever it is, it commands her and she obeys.

She hugs her brother tight and he holds onto her, whispering in her ear that she doesn't need to prove anything to anyone. He tells her that he'd love to have her nearby and wouldn't be it great for their kids to grow up together.

"Yes, it would," she answers him and she kisses him on the cheek. And then she steps away from him, reaches out and takes Henry from Will and finishes with, "We'll see you at Christmas?"

"No," her brother tells her. "I'll be there for the trial."

Her response is immediate, urgent and emotional (so much so that Henry begins to cry when he senses how upset his mother suddenly is). "No," she insists. "No way. Bad enough that my team will be there. Bad enough that I can't convince him(she looks directly at Will when she says this) not to, but there's no way I want you there. No."

"Jen, I already saw the tape," he tells her, watching as Will takes Henry back and tries to calm him down by whispering over and over that everything is okay.

"How?" she asks.

"I'm a DA. I called in favors. I wanted to know how to help you."

"Fine. Help me by not being there. It's going to be horrible and I don't want anyone there. Anyone."

She knows that she's being unreasonable. All of then – her team, her brother, Will - they just want to offer support. Their intentions are noble and lovely and they make her heart swell wonderfully, but her fear pushes back harder.

They may know what happened in that room, but they don't understand it.

They don't understand the moments between fear and rage and hate and love and everything in between.

They couldn't possibly understand how much hurt there still is.

"Jen," he protests.

He looks to Will for help, but all the former Detective can offer is a shrug. It's quite apparent that he's been fighting this same battle with her for weeks.

"I don't like this," her brother tells her. "This isn't right."

"No," she agrees. "It's not. None of this is. But it is what it is. And what I need from you is to understand that there are things that I can't deal with you hearing." She steps towards him and puts a hand on either side of his face. "Please."

He dips his head and nods. "One of these days, I'm gonna say no to you."

"Good luck with that," Will smirks.

"Fine, I won't go and I'll let you go back to the hell-hole that is Quantico, but you have to call me every couple of days. None of this twice a month crap. I want to hear from you, Jen. I want to know you're okay. Those are the terms. I don't hear from you and my ass is on a plane to you so fast, you won't know where I came from."

"I love you, too," she says, grinning at him.

She likes to think that each day is just a little bit better.

Each morning brings with it an obstacle to overcome and a milestone to reach.

One day involves being in a room with a lot of people without feeling as though she's second away from a horrifying (and embarrassing) panic attack.

The day after that, she's down in the gym with Morgan and they're sparing and she's able to throw a punch without feeling like she's about to throw up.

And then there's the first time she's in a room with a babbling sociopath. Rossi is with her, mere inches away, his eyes more on her than the Unsub

When she doesn't rip his throat out, she considers that a success.

None of her teammates choose to call out how badly she's sweating.

Not one of them says a word about the nail marks she's pressed into her palm.

No one asks her what she did in the bathroom for almost ten minutes after she left the interrogation room.

And Hotch doesn't say "good job" because he knows that she would think he's was going soft on her.

The second time they catch a case after she returns to duty, it's in Memphis and she asks to interview the Unsub alone. When he finally decides to confess, he tells her much he enjoyed his kills, how much he got off on the pain.

It takes everything she has not to completely melt down right then and there.

But she doesn't.

She leaves the room and she walks past the rest of the team, head held up high, eyes focused ahead and on nothing at all.

They don't ask her if she's all right even though they all desperately want (and need) an answer to that question.

She tells herself that if she can survive this case, the next one will be better just as this one was slightly better than the last.

It's a bit of a lie, but it's one she's willing to buy into.

And she does – completely.

It helps, even if only a little.

The third case is easier.

This time, when they catch the bad guy, the flush of emotion that goes her feels a lot like it used to before Holloway. Rage mixed with disgust.

And then the conscious decision to not spend another moment thinking about this horrible son of a bitch.

It almost works, too.

Almost.

Until the plane ride home where she's stupid enough to allow herself to drift off.

And then the nightmares hit.

She wakes with a scream and everyone is watching her, unable to pretend that they're not.

Derek has a look like he wants to put his arms around her.

Hotch is almost twitching, caught between some logic that tells him that he needs to force her go back on leave and a more emotional primal feeling, this one insisting that he keep her close by.

Close enough for the team to protect her.

She apologizes beneath her breath and then disappears into the bathroom where she stays for the rest of the flight, unable to face their looks.

When they disembark, she says to Hotch, "I can do my job, please don't take it away from. Please."

"I won't," he assures her. "But I am worried."

"I know. I promise you, though, it is getting better (this word had become something of a frantic mantra to her – something she has to believe). I just…I should have known better. The dreams, they come every night, but I can deal with them. I can."

"And when you can't?"

"I'm seeing the department shrink."

"That's not what I asked."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to promise me that if there comes a time when you can't deal with the dreams, you'll come to me. We've…I've already lost two of our own – Elle and Jason - because they couldn't deal with their trauma and you…" he pauses and thinks about his words. "…I don't think I could bear to lose you, too."

She's touched beyond words and so all she does is nod, her eyes glistening.

He does the same and then together, they walk towards where the rest of the team are waiting for them next to their cars.

She allows herself a few days to herself before she heads back to the office.

She remembers promising Emily that she'd call the moment she got back into town, but she can't quite find a way to dial the number.

It doesn't seem right that they should continue their healing over the phone.

So instead, she spends her first three days back in Virginia doing the simple things. Stocking up the pantry, buying new soap and shampoo and taking Henry shoe-shopping (which is pretty much worthless considering how much he dislikes shoes).

"Okay," Will says, coming out of the bedroom. "That's it."

"What?" she asks, looking up from where she's bent in front of the linen closet, carefully refolding everything inside of it.

"Who are you and where's my JJ?"

"What?"

"Look, honey, I love you dearly and I fully support whatever you need to do to help yourself in getting better, but this is madness."

"Will?"

"You're a mess, JJ. I love that about you."

"Still lost, honey."

He sighs and steps towards her. "In all of our time together, you have folded maybe one towel. When you do laundry, you shrink things. When you cook, you burn water."

"I do not!"

"You do and it's one of the most adorable parts about you. You can answer seven phones at the same time and arrange the travel plans for ten people, but you can't cook a can of soup. That's where I come in. Except now, you're infringing on my part." He leans down and picks up a horribly folded sheet and shows it to her. "Badly."

She grimaces. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Go back to work."

"I thought you didn't want me to."

"I don't really. I'd love it if you'd take a nice safe job behind a desk somewhere, but that ain't you, JJ. And that's not going to help you heal. Only going back and facing them – and Emily – will."

"I'm not sure I can."

"You did before. I thought you and her…"

"We did. I mean, we did, but that was different…"

"Because of the upcoming trial?"

"Trial is still a few months away," she whispers and there's dread in her tone.

"JJ?"

"How are we going to work together? Are we still going to be able to trust each other? It's one thing to say we do…"

"You won't know until you try," he tells her. "And the rest of the team will be there. They won't let either of you get hurt."

"They couldn't stop it last time."

She immediately regrets the words.

Before he can respond, she's up and on her feet.

"I need to run," she says and then like a tornado, she's ripping through her purse, looking for her iPod.

He thinks about stopping her, telling her to slow down and take a breath, but he knows better by now.

This isn't a woman who often says things she doesn't intend to.

She's far too disciplined for that.

Which means her words have exposed a soft spot in her armor, a bitter fearful truth. She is a rational woman and so she most likely knows that blaming the team for what she and Emily went through isn't fair, but fear is neither logical nor rational and mistrust tends to breed from unspoken doubts.

She's out the door within minutes and it's another three hours before she returns, soaked in sweat, her blonde hair sticking out in twelve different directions.

"Better?" he asks, rocking Henry against his chest.

"Yeah," she replies, taking her son from his father and kissing his forehead. She looks up at Will and smiles, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For letting me deal with this my way."

He chuckles. "Not like I have a choice, JJ. My way is far different from yours. I'd much prefer we screamed and cried it out."

She chuckles and he gives her a look that tells her that yes, he knows that he's pretty much the woman in the relationship and as long as he's allowed to have his poker and beer nights, he's just fine with that.

"But," he continues, "Your way is different. You're gonna throw yourself at this thing until it breaks…"

"It won't break me," she insists.

"I know it won't," he soothes. "Just make sure you don't lose yourself in the process. And make sure you don't lose sight of the fact that you have people – including me – who are here to help if you need it."

"I won't," she promises.

"And JJ, you know that they were turning over hell to find you, right? You know that they didn't just let you two be hurt."

Her face flushes and she nods. "I know. I do. There are moments, though, where I wonder why sometimes we're so good at saving other people…"

"How often do you get to those other people before they've been hurt?"

"Not often."

"Exactly. They got there as fast as they could. They saved your lives."

"I know."

"Good. Now I'm gonna go cook us some dinner. You pop open a bottle of wine – I think you can do that without creating too much of a mess, yeah?"

"Sure," she replies, punching him hard in the shoulder.

"Ow," he chuckles and then heads into the kitchen.

She watches after him, thinking about where this all started.

Thinking about how angry and frustrated with him she'd been on the day she and Emily had been kidnapped.

His passive, easy, effortless ways had annoyed the shit out of her and it had caused them to argue, which had pushed him into taking Henry back to see his relatives in New Orleans.

And now, that calm that he has about him, it's a lifeline.

She's still not ready to slip on a ring, but with each passing day, she realizes that maybe there are parts of the small town girl lifestyle that aren't so bad.

Like the having a family part.

For the briefest of moments, panic surges through her.

She wonders if it was stupid to leave her brother's house in Pennsylvania.

They could have stayed there and been happy and safe.

Back here in Virginia, she knows what will happen.

She will return the team and Will and Henry will spend every night wondering if she's coming home to them.

She thinks about the team and wonders if she could walk away like Gideon and Elle had.

She chuckles then. "You're no quitter, Jareau," she mutters.

And that's just the truth of it.

She didn't come this far to quit now.

She finds a bottle of red wine and pops it open. She pours two glasses, sips from one, refills it and then brings both of them into the kitchen.

The next morning comes too quickly for everyone, but come it does.

She leaves Will and Henry each with a kiss and then drives the short way to the office, finding her old blue language as she gets caught in a traffic jam.

The security guard calls out a familiar greeting when she enters, tells her it's good to see her again. She answers in kind and then gets into the elevator.

The ride up is short and quick and then she's striding towards the glass doors that will lead her into the bullpen of the BAU.

She's a mixture of relieved and disappointed when she enters to find it empty except for a few analysts that are milling about.

Almost reluctantly, she reaches out for the arm of Agent Anderson and asks, "Where are they?"

"Agent Jareau," he greets with a wide and slightly awkward smile. "They're uh…up in the Round Table room."

"Oh," she says simply. "Okay, thanks."

She stares up and notices that indeed, the blinds are down, signaling that they're in mid-meeting. She takes a breath and heads up the stairs.

She knocks on the door and then enters.

"Hi," she says, waving ever so slightly. It's a Reid kind of gesture, but it's all she knows to do with her now trembling hands.

"JJ," Garcia greets, standing up quickly. This time – unlike last time – there's no hesitation and suddenly she's wrapped in Penelope's bear like embrace. "We missed you," she tells JJ. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," JJ says and then separates herself. She turns to face the team. "If you don't mind an extra hand?"

"You're sure?" Hotch asks and there's a bit of wariness in his eyes, like maybe he's wondering if he can really handle having two broken agents on his team at the same time.

"I am," she tells him and she tries to convince him with her eyes that yes, she really is ready.

She's only moderately successful, but he accepts it just the same.

"Okay," he nods. "Sit."

She does.

He pushes a file across to her. "Three women in Colorado Springs."

She opens the file and it takes her a mighty effort not to drop it when she sees the horrible pictures inside.

She's seen pictures like these a hundred times, but these are her first reminders of the evil that men can do.

She wondered how she'd ever forgotten.

She realizes with a pang of bitterness that she never truly had.

If Hotch notices her reaction, he doesn't mention it. He pushes on with the details of the case, particulars that she's usually the one providing.

When she finally looks up from the file, she's relieved to see that no one is looking at her, measuring her, trying to decide if she's ready for this.

In fact, the only one looking at her is Emily.

She offers a small smile.

Emily answers it with one of her own.

It's not much.

It's something.

They don't say much to each other during the case in Colorado Springs. Small pleasantries and quick welfare check-ins, but nothing deep or emotional.

When Emily suits up in Kevlar, JJ stays behind and though neither of them say it, they're both quite relieved.

They both have trust issues that they're not yet ready to deal with.

That much is clear to everyone, but for now, no one says a thing.

It's not until the fifth case she's back for when they're asked to room together.

It's strange and weird and it shouldn't be because they've done this dozens of times before.

They'd even had a bit of a rhythm before.

JJ gets the bed on the left side, Emily the one on the right.

Emily showers first and lets JJ get a few minutes extra sleep in the morning.

And they both know that if someone has something on their mind, the other one isn't likely to sleep until it's talked out and maybe, just maybe, by talking it out, they'll crack a case or two.

It's always been easy and comfortable before.

It's not now.

Neither says a word as they crawl into their beds.

Neither mentions the fact that both are woken up by the other one's nightmare at least twice during the night.

In the morning, however, Emily showers first and doesn't wake JJ until she absolutely has to.

Every case brings them closer to the date of the trial.

They both know that they're just weeks away from being forced to deal with it.

They both know that Hotch is watching them carefully, waiting for the moment when he has no choice but to get involved.

He can feel that his team isn't quite right.

He can tell that they're just playing their parts.

They play them well – these two women, even half-broken(and he thinks half because they are healing everything but the rift between them), they're better than just about anyone.

They're professional, efficient and effective.

They catch the bad guys with relative ease.

And then they go their separate ways, each of them suffering the distance.

Each of them needing forgiveness that neither knows how to give nor accept.

They've each been seeing the department shrink Doctor Macy and his reports have been generally positive, but even he has warned that the gulf between them continues to exist and will likely continue to do so with assistance from a trusted third party.

He considers having Garcia force an emotional intervention, but then rejects the idea, knowing that both of these women are stubborn enough to stonewall if they feel like they're being manipulated into dealing with their issues.

No, he's going to have to be more clever about it.

Much more subtle.

JJ is a master of a manipulation.

Emily is cynical and wary.

It creates quite the headache for him.

A week before the trial, he makes a decision that even he isn't quite sure about and yet he knows it's the only way that he's going to force these two women to deal with their trust issues.

When the teams straps on their Kevlar to go after two young men who have been raping and killing high school girls in a small Michigan suburb, he tells JJ to suit up as well and then once on site, he directs JJ and Emily around the back.

He ignores the worried looks he gets from Rossi and Morgan.

He rationalizes that this is the only way they will learn to trust each other again.

They have to believe that the other one will have their back.

They have to know that the other one won't let them be hurt.

He remembers after the raid is over the old proverb about the path to hell being paved with good intentions.

Maybe he's thinking about it when Emily is yelling at him, telling him that it all could have gone so badly and did he know that one of the little bastards had had a gun at JJ's back and what if she hadn't been fast enough.

What if she had frozen and what if she had allowed JJ to be shot?

What then?

He uncharacteristically lets her yell at him, knowing instinctively that she needs this emotional catharsis. Just before she's about to break down and start crying, he says softly, "Stop."

And she does, her body ramrod straight.

"JJ is alive because of you. And you're alive because of her."

His words are so simple and so to the point.

She turns and exits the room.

He's not sure what he'd expected, but he hopes that wasn't the sum of it. He hopes desperately that this was a turning point.

He looks over at the calendar.

The trial is a week away.

The trial starts on a Monday, but neither woman shows up for opening statements.

They both dread Wednesday.

On Tuesday, the jurors watch several videos. The last one they see is the edited down video of JJ and Emily.

The judge has to provide several breaks for the members of the jury who find themselves overwhelmed by what they are saying.

When a woman in her sixties finally breaks down sobbing, he calls it a day.

Holloway watches, a small smile playing across his lips.

He can't wait for Wednesday.

Wednesday comes too quickly for everyone (except Holloway).

Across town from each other, two women dress in silence.

One gently squeezes her necklace – a final gift from a beloved sister. She thinks of family and friends and love and how very much one can really lose.

The other thinks of a child she never had and wonders – not for the first time and certainly not for the last – what her life had been like if she'd had the child.

It's Will LaMontagne who asks JJ if she's ready to go.

It's Aaron Hotchner who comes to pick up Emily.

Both women turn and offer the same assured smile.

Both women would normally be quick to insist that they don't need the protection of a male escort.

Both stay quiet, thankful for the companionship.

Team in tow (and flanking them), they meet at the door of the courthouse and exchange a soft hello.

It's JJ who reaches out for Emily's hand and squeezes it.

They walk in together.

It's hell.

For both of them.

Emily goes first and then JJ.

The DA leads them both through the events, stopping to dwell on the moments when Holloway gave them specific instructions.

He asks what they did, what it felt like and why they didn't stop.

He asks them about the aftermath.

His reasons are simple – he wants everyone in this room to know what a monster Holloway is. He wants the jury to understand just how much Holloway had destroyed these two women's lives.

He wants them to understand so that when he asks them to sentence Garrett Holloway to the death penalty, they will do it with a moment of guilt or sorrow.

And so he asks them about their nightmares and their inability to have truly pleasurable intimacy. He asks them about their friendship and they both reluctantly admit that they're not sure where it stands.

They're not sure if it can ever truly be repaired.

And just as everyone is beginning to feel quite certain that even though Holloway is certainly headed for a needle in the arm, he's won, Emily looks up at him and says quietly, "I'm not sure if anyone can ever come back from what we've been through, but I do know that as long we're alive, we still have a chance."

Her eyes lock with Holloway's and for a brief moment, she delights in the surprise in his eyes.

He could have pled out and probably gotten life in prison, but he had chosen to go to trial knowing that he'd most certainly get the death penalty all so that he could see the pain that he had caused his victims.

Well he had his moment and now it's over.

"And that alone makes playing his game – no matter how much extra pain and suffering it caused us - worthwhile," Emily finishes.

She meets JJ eyes, tries to make her point, prays to God that she's successful.

She remembers doing this several times during their captivity.

It had worked then. She hopes it's working now.

After a moment, JJ offers the slightest of smiles.

Emily exhales.

Things slowly get truly better after that.

At first, it's just a joking poker game on the plane, one where they're exchanging old taunts and accusing the other one of cheating. It's familiar and friendly and everyone watching (and trying not to show that they are) is reassured by it.

Then there's the night when after a case ends and they're still stuck in Texas because of an ice storm, they share a bottle of wine together. They talk about old childhood stories, share embarrassing moments (the kind you don't ever talk about unless you're pretty much plastered) and generally laugh together.

It occurs to Hotch that maybe these two don't need to talk it out, they just need to allow themselves to trust and move on.

And slowly, but surely, they do.

He stops worrying about them going out on raids together.

They stop wondering if they're going to let the other one down.

The nightmares take a long time to go away, but over the months, they go from an every night kind of even to a once a week midnight showing.

Old patterns re-emerge and on a rainy Spring morning, Emily enters the office with trays of coffee and hands one to JJ.

They both remember where this is all started, how a friendly and innocent journey to the local coffee shop has caused so much hurt and pain.

There's a moment when both of their hands are on the cup.

"Thanks," JJ says finally.

Emily smiles and nods, her lips curving upwards into a small smile.

And then she calls out to the guys, "Come and get it and Reid, you owe me for this – whatever this hell this is – the guy at the coffee shop looked at me like I was some kind of speed freak."

"You get his number?" Morgan asks, taking his cup and sipping from it.

She tosses him a look, he just winks.

"Got one for me?" Hotch asks, trying to pretend that he (like everyone else) hadn't been watching the moment between the two women.

"Of course," she replies, not even a little bit fooled. "Where's Rossi?"

"On his way in."

"He's got five minutes and then his cup is mine," Reid chirps.

"You don't need anymore caffeine," JJ laughs, swatting at him.

It's a nice moment, a good moment and though he has much work to do, Hotch stays a moment and watches it.

Six months after the trial, his team is running on all cylinders.

So much so that when he gets the call from the prison, he almost dreads relaying the information.

He calls them both into his office and asks them to sit.

"What is it?" Emily asks first.

"It's Holloway," he tells them. "He's dead."

"How?" JJ queries.

"He was beaten to death in the yard."

"Oh," she says simply. "How poetic."

"Are you two all right?"

"We're fine," Emily says. JJ nods her agreement.

Both make it clear that this is something that they don't want to talk about.

So he doesn't make them.

Neither can sleep that night, both unable to lie still in their beds.

It's Emily who finally pushes herself from her bed and wearing baggy clothes that would have made her mother have a heart attack, she makes her way to JJ's house.

She slams on the front door, knowing that she must look like a lunatic trying to break in.

When the lights go on, she has a moment of hoping that she's at the wrong house.

But she's not and it's JJ who opens the door.

"Em?"

She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can, JJ got her arms around her and they're both holding each other.

Holding on for dear life.

And maybe there are tears and half-gasped words, but if there are, neither of them knows it.

Holloway can never hurt anyone ever again.

It's over. The nightmare is finally over.

-FIN.