Author's note:

Hopefully, this functions as a nice bookend. As I've said before, under the circumstances, this one didn't really unfold as planned. Admittedly, much of the inspiration has gone. But there are things that I never quite understood about JJ's relationship, and if nothing else, I've had a chance to explore that here. In any case, I'm glad it's reached what I hope is a fitting end. These characters, this show, this fandom – it's been quite a ride. I hope some of you have enjoyed it as much as I have.

As always, I'd love to hear from you.

Stalker

Epilogue

It was incredible.

The things that other peoples' guilt could allow.

The thought ran through JJ's head as she sat down on her couch to wait.

Incredible, too, the things that her own need could force her to accept.

It had started in those first few moments, right after Clint McAllister had hit two birds with one stone.

…

"Emily?" JJ heard herself mutter.

None of it made sense.

The pain on Emily's face, the blood on her shirt.

The pain in her own stomach.

"Are you all right?" Emily asked her.

And JJ opened her mouth to answer and found that she didn't know.

She couldn't understand.

Hotch was there, across the room, cuffing Clint. Rossi and Reid were with him.

And Morgan, he was leaning over them on the floor.

And his words brought clarity:

"Goddammit, it went right through her! Penelope!" He said her name like he needed to get her attention. "Tell 911 they've both been shot. We need two ambulances."

JJ thought she heard Garcia's panicky voice somewhere behind them.

She knew she felt Morgan gently moving them.

"Reid, get over here," Morgan said next.

And suddenly the pain flared up, ten times worse, and JJ realized the two men were trying to keep pressure on both wounds.

"Hey," Morgan said quietly, and JJ looked over to realize he was talking to Emily. "Hey, you're too damn thin, huh? Isn't that a feather in your cap, or somethin'? You're also a hero and a half, Em. Hang in."

But Emily wasn't looking at Morgan.

She was staring at JJ.

Their eyes locked.

And it was insane, but Emily looked – concerned. Apologetic, even.

JJ tried to speak, tried to thank her.

But every part of her felt drowned in molasses.

She couldn't even move to offer comfort.

She should have.

Emily had just taken a bullet for her.

And yet here they were, and it was Emily's hand that was snaking towards hers, squeezing with gentle, barely-there pressure.

"Don't go anywhere," Emily murmured.

And though Morgan and Reid were speaking, too… and there were other, blurry images that passed by her eyes as she was moved into the ambulance… and somewhere along the line Will arrived and hovered over her…

It was that image that stayed with JJ all night.

Emily.

Asking, maybe begging.

"Don't go anywhere."

…

Their wounds had not been life-threatening.

But they had both been kept in the hospital longer than either of them had wanted.

Hotch had wrangled the nurses into moving them into the same room.

Neither of them had asked for it, but Hotch, in his wisdom, had made the choice for them.

The first night, they were both drugged to a point of rarely being conscious, and they never caught each other awake.

The second night, they'd blown past each others' varied thank-yous and apologies with words like "Don't be silly", and a few heart-felt tears.

It was too soon to really deal with it.

Neither had made sense of their realities yet.

But there were old issues. Old realities.

And because Will and Henry had just gone, and Emily was too damn good a friend, and JJ needed someone to talk to, and the painkillers had her guard down.

She opened up, rather than letting poor Emily rest.

Emily had just taken a bullet for her, but JJ found herself talking her ear off anyway:

…

"You know that feeling," JJ all but whispered into the dark, "When you close your eyes at night, and some moment, some image that was too much… a hole in some guy's head, some five-year-old decomposing… it keeps coming back, and you just… your stomach just rolls?"

"Yeah," Emily whispered. "I think we all do."

"I think I tell myself a lot of lies," JJ told her.

"We all do that, too," Emily assured her.

"I told myself I was happy."

JJ let that phrase be for a moment, before she followed up:

"But the thing is, way back, before any of you guys knew, that I was pregnant… when I knew, and I was trying to… get used to it… there was a time that that image that haunted me before bed…" She paused, hesitated, and admitted: "It was Will. Smiling. His smile haunted me. And I knew it was twisted. All the bodies and blood and tears that we saw every day, and it was my boyfriend's smiling face that made me feel sick at night?But I was so… afraid. To hurt him."

She thought it over, added:

"He believed that we were happy. And every day I kissed him back and dug myself a little deeper."

Emily pointed out:

"But you love Henry."

"More than anything in the world," JJ said quickly, easily. Without doubt. "But I think that's the thing. I mean, maybe that's what made it easy. I loved that family image for him. So I believed we were happy."

"You tried to do the right thing," Emily told her.

But it was an excuse:

"I short-changed us both because I was too afraid to hurt him."

"You were well-intentioned."

"I was a coward."

Silence reigned again for a moment.

Then:

"JJ," Emily said quietly, getting her attention: "None of this makes Clint McAllister right."

"No," JJ agreed. "No, but it does leave me not knowing where the hell we go from here."

…

Where the hell they went from there turned out to be easy, all because Will was drowning in guilt.

He'd done nothing, other than open up his life and his frustrations to an old friend.

But he blamed himself for not seeing it.

Clint McAllister had tried to be a stalker and gotten it all wrong.

He'd terrorized JJ, confused the hell out of the team she considered family, then nearly killed two of them.

He'd tried to keep an eleven-year-old girl in his basement and vowed to raise her to 'know her place'.

It was sick, and Will felt he should have seen it.

He knew the history.

Clint had lost his 'perfect' wife.

Months later he'd lost his brother to suicide, an act the man's family had blamed on his cold-and-distant wife, who'd dared to love her career as a lawyer.

Then Will had complained to Clint about JJ.

JJ knew all of this, now, and she knew the part that really killed Will.

He'd been comforted by Clint's disgust, rather than concerned.

He'd missed it.

He'd even bought into Clint's excuses, the day Will had left a sleeping Henry in his house and come back to find them both gone.

Will blamed himself, hated himself.

And so he'd made it all easy.

He'd used his father's life insurance to rent an apartment just down the block from their family home.

He'd told JJ to take her time, keep her space, make her way through.

He'd let her know Henry was right down the street any time she wanted to see him, but that she didn't have to worry about him. Or Will, either.

It was more than she deserved, JJ knew.

It was more than anybody deserved.

But she was still drowning in nightmares and struggling to get through the days.

She still saw Will's face and felt angry hands trying to be his.

And so she allowed it.

She saw Henry every day, kept Will at arms' length.

Vowed not to let it go on forever.

Planned to pay next rent's month herself.

Have a real heart-to-heart with Will as soon as she could stand it.

Let him know that he had the freedom to see other people, and let herself off the hook.

None of it was guilt-free.

Nothing would be, for either of them.

But it was all she could do to make that much sense of it all.

And she found, day after day, that she was more concerned with getting back to work.

She didn't know if it was her focus because it was easier or because it mattered more.

She was pretty sure she didn't want to know.

Regardless, the team was the pressing issue in her mind.

She'd been packing to the leave the hospital when Emily finally brought it up:

…

"The job is a part of you," Emily said suddenly, and JJ looked up from where she was clearing out the small drawer by her bedside.

She thought for a moment, then told her:

"I know."

"It's a big part. Maybe more than you realize."

"Em, I realize. I know."

And JJ could see that Emily had to force herself to say the next part:

"You need to do what's right for you." Then she couldn't help saying: "But it might not be what you think."

JJ just looked at her, wondered if she'd ever come out and say what she was really saying.

Everyone knew she had a meeting with Strauss on the books.

"We need you," Emily finally said.

And it was close enough.

But it still wasn't easy.

…

It had taken weeks of therapy.

Weeks, in which she never set foot in her office at the BAU.

Her office, which Hotch refused to let anyone touch.

She'd gone to him, after those weeks, talked it out:

…

"If you think it's going to be a big impediment -"

"It won't be." Hotch sounded sure.

"I'm not saying I'll never be ready to -"

"JJ, I know."

"So… so then -"

"No Kevlar, no violent offender interviews. We can start there."

"And that won't be a problem?"

"JJ," he said quietly, waiting for her eyes. "You are inevitably one of my favorite solutions."

He blessed her with a rare smile.

And she left feeling good.

…

That had been this morning.

Now, she waited.

She still wasn't sure she had the words for the next conversation.

She wasn't sure they existed.

But something would have to do, because she heard the knock on her door, and went to let Emily in.

"Everything okay?" Emily asked, and JJ realized she probably seemed awfully serious.

They'd had a few dinners with Garcia in recent weeks, and they'd learned to be casual with each other again.

But today wasn't one of those days.

"I've been trying to figure out how to thank you," JJ told her.

"You've thanked me."

"Not enough."

"JJ -"

"I'm not just talking about the bullet. I don't even know where to begin to thank you for that. And I started thinking about, like, buying you something, but that seemed… completely inadequate."

"It's not necessary."

"I needed to do something. And I realized I can't repay the favor unless something bad happens to you, and I'm not going to sit around hoping for that, so… I figured the best thing I can do is be available, as your shoulder to cry on. If it's needed. Day to day." She left a beat, then added: "Case to case."

And Emily smiled a careful smile.

"Are you saying…?"

"I'm not saying you're the only reason. 'Cause you were right. The job is a part of me. Sometimes I think maybe too big a part." She sighed, smiled. "But yes. Yeah. I'm coming back."

Emily grinned fully now, moved to hug her.

But when she broke the embrace, she was the serious one.

"Look, if we're putting all this baggage to bed… If this is moving on? I think this is the time for me to say – and you're going to have to actually let me say it – I'm sorry."

JJ shook her head, rolled her eyes.

"Em -"

"No, I'm serious. I made a promise to you. And then I left you alone against my better judgment -"

"I told you -"

"I don't care what you told me. I made a bad choice and everything went to hell. And I'm sorry."

"Em, your promise was that you weren't going anywhere." She caught her eyes, continued: "That's what you gave me, when this all started. And you followed it through. And… I think… I think that's what I'm trying to say, right now."

Emily nodded, put it to words:

"You're not going anywhere."

"No."

They were both quiet for a moment.

And then Emily, smiling and being Emily, made everything okay:

"As closure goes, I'll take it."

…