Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds

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I've been in this plush hotel of a jail for a good 2 years and I've got to say my last helpless fulfilled the brief, she fought, tooth and nail she fought but I, being me, succeeded and got to be possessor of her soul, those two birds finally killed with one stone. I wonder how The Jock recovered, how he got on with life without her. How the elite squad survived such devastation. The devastation I saw on their faces was glorious victory... that I, Jonah Bentham, brought down the BAU's profilers, the best of the best, the ultimate fighting squad.

That last scream from The Jock still rings out in my head from time to time and I can't help but snigger, that in itself was success, to make a man like him bend and break, make him show at his weakest. I do think to myself how it all trolled out and, although, there were some tight moments in there it all worked out and she died in his arms. She died with him so close to her, with them all so close to her.

Obviously showing that they can't save everyone. I can't help but imagine her funeral, even in the short amount of time I'd known her, heck even come to love her in a way, she had touched many a hearts, stolen many a loves and yet asked for nothing in return. Now The Jock, he had to say a eulogy, most definitely about his irrevocable love for one woman. Maybe The Boss said a few words, about how one individual; one female had graced their lives personally and professionally.

There will have been tears, countless tears, and I wonder if the volume of tears in blood could have saved her, or if she had lost too much before they even got there. I do think that she had bled out way too much by the time they got to her and with my medical knowledge I know critical when I see it, and she was mostly the definition of critical.

The guards here dislike me, as do over half of the inmates, news travel fasts when you take on teams like I did. When you kill so many for no reason but everyone here is corrupt in all different ways. How am I worse than the druggies? Or the enraged father than abuse their children? I'd never hurt one of my own, they are not helpless, we share genes.

'Get up.' I'm told admittedly this guard startled me. 'Visitors.'

'For me?'

'No for the dip shit next door.' He retorts in his usual useless manner, a complete twat, not a suitable helpless in my eyes. He's too lifeless. 'Come on, they won't wait forever.' I get up and allow him to lead me to a room, I'm not all familiar with these rooms, haven't had many visitors stop by so I'm intrigued to see who this is. I sit and get handcuffed to the table, now I wait. Soon the door opens and I look shocked as I watch.

'Oh, now that's a face I haven't seen in a while.' I say with a smirk. 'You still look the same Jock.' I say as The Jock sits opposite me and slaps down a bag. 'For me?' I ask as he remains silent. 'I'd open it but you see I'm a little tired up as was The Tech that day.' I say really trying to get it where it hurts; I see the hurt twist in his eyes. 'Still cut up over it?' I ask and smirk as the pun was unintended.

'Seems jail hasn't changed you.' He tells me, a growl in his voice for sure. 'I'd like to show you some things.' He says to me and I see his left hand hook open a bag, he has a ring on his wedding finger. My eyes stayed glued to that band and he noticed. He pulled what looked like an FBI file out of his bag and I looked back to his face seeing a glint in his eye. And then he opened the file. I stared at what I was seeing. 'We thought you needed to see your destruction in full swing.' The Jock tells me and slides photo's across at me. I look at it and grab it, I look closely.

'She l-l-lived...' I mutter and look at him, I'm seeing red now. 'You saved her!' I look at the photograph again as my eyes clear; she's in the hospital in it, not breathing on her own. 'This isn't actual proof she lived.' I spit out at him.

'Oh but she is.' The Jock tells me with a smirk. 'The thing you didn't find out about The Tech was that she's a hardhead, she does things on her terms, no one else's.' He tells me applying thick emphasis on my nicknames for them all. 'Admittedly we almost lost her there a couple of times, for about 8 days or so she was in the coma you commented on, but she woke up and came back to us.'

'Not the same though.' I tell him knowing that something like that doesn't make the same person.

'No she didn't.' I snigger at him. 'She came back better and stronger and more driven.' I gawp now, that was not what I was after. 'She was still the same Penelope, she smiled for us, joked for us, worried about us even though she was stuck in hospital she worried about us, made sure we were okay.'

'How sweet of her.'

'Do you realise what you did to her meant she couldn't move out of that bed for nearly 4 weeks, she had to lay there and cope with the enormous discomfort, with the pain as the high doses of medication she was on began to wear off.'

'Have you forgotten I have medical training? With all those wounds on her she should've been dead! She died in that room!'

'Well she didn't!' The Jock said hitting the table that separated our persons from one another. 'You didn't win this one!'

'But she died in your arms!'

'They revived her, she didn't die at all.'

'I don't believe you!' I tell him because I didn't, all those wounds, all the juicy blood that had poured over her delicate skin, that pool of crimson that haloed her should've been her death. She wasn't suppose to breathe, when she died in his arms, that was supposed to be the last piece of straggled oxygen from her lungs. 'She's dead...' I tell him more for my own verification than his.

'But she isn't.' He tells with a smile, and then slides another photo over to me. 'That us on our wedding day, barely any scarring from you but she was well and truly alive in my arms that day, and still is nightly.'

'No!' I say and go to stand but handcuffed to a table only allows so much leniency. 'She should be dead! Her soul should be mine!' I tell him as I struggle. 'She's dead!' I yell at him, I don't like to be outdone. The jock stands. 'Where are you going? This isn't done!'

'I know it isn't...' He says as he opens the door and stands in the doorway. 'Come here baby girl.'

Baby girl. Baby girl. My mind wraps around that. 'No!' I say as she steps into view, she looks different but radiates the same energy. 'You should've died!' I spit at her, her in front of me is like venom, its destroying me, making the vessels of my body snap. She says nothing but looks at me, her eyes docile, her face almost a calm terrified expression. 'You died in that room... they were too late!'

'I never died.' She whispered. 'You did.' She tells me and leaves and I know at that moment she's right. I see the look from The Jock; it's the look that seconds her declaration. I sit stunned; this was never supposed to happen like this.

I've been defeated, but my reign of terror will never be over, I'll gamble forever more.

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The End!

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Author Notes: Thanks for reading, thanks very much for the reviews. This was a different type of story for us and we're glad it went down well!