Title: Before the Worst

Author: LogicBomb.32

Ships: Emily/JJ friendship

Summary: You died holding my hand, looking into my eyes, I was the last person you saw.

WARNING FOR MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Authors Note: More at end.

The grass is cold and wet, dampness seeping through the thin layers I so carefully picked out. Although I don't know why, its not like you can see me, hear me or respond. And yet here I am, sitting in the rain, every inch of me quickly becoming drenched and trails of goose bumps already visible. But I can't leave, not after getting this far.

But honestly it's not much a milestone, making it to the cemetery, not when I can't even look at your headstone, or the patch of grass that covers your coffin. No, I may be here physically but emotionally I know that I'm still in Montana.

Polson, Lake County, Montana

Population: 5,321

The gun is pressing into your temple, hard enough to bruise but you don't let the pain show.

I can't help but flinch as our unsub, Charles Mason, pistol-whips you viciously, sending you stumbling backwards into the wall. He advances towards you and Morgan curses, ripping the headset out of his ear in frustration, he hate's being helpless, we all do. It is awful, beyond awful actually, being restrained to this stupid white tent while you're trying to talk down Mason, that and not get killed in the process.

We should never had let you go in there and its not because you're weak or that you're not technically a profiler, but because we all saw the signs, we all knew that Charles Mason wouldn't go down quietly. Rather he would go down as loudly as possible, taking as many innocent victims as he could with him. But Hotch had agreed to the plan, probably against his better judgment, but agreed he had done. To his credit he had sent Reid in there with you, but as far as we know Reid is unconscious, or worse, but we can't think about that, not that we really can.

Every one of my thoughts is punctuated by a muffled gasp of pain, a shout of anger or your voice. It's amazing, how calm your voice is, even in the face of this monster "Mr. Mason" you say "This isn't how you want this to end."

"How would you know?" he replies and it's a minor miracle that we can hear anything Mason says, there's the power of technology for you.

You take a breath, it's short, and we all know that you're in pain but you carry on "You worked to hard, put too much effort into your work to let it all" you hesitate and on the screen the grainy blur that is you pushes your self to your feet "fizzle out like this."

I hold my breath, but he doesn't hit you, only looks at you before he speaks, his voice dripping with sarcasm "You're a liar Agent Jareau, half the FBI is out there, guns all pointed at this building just waiting to come rescue you and the other bitch. This is exactly how I want things to go down, everyone is looking at me."

Exactly as we had predicted and my heart sinks "Hotch." I say and I really don't need to say more, he knows what I'm thinking.

"We can't." he grinds out, and I can tell that it pains him to do so.

"Why!" and this time it's not me who questions our team leader "Why not!" Morgan practically shouts.

Hotch doesn't speak for a long while, instead the silence is filled with you bargaining for the victims life, bargaining with your own "You have the spotlight, all the press is here because of you, but what is killing her going to do for you? She's just a person, a name on a list, don't kill her, think about, who is worth more to the media, to the world, whose death is going to spread your name? The death of a twenty something or the death of an FBI agent?"

We are completely silent as we listen, with bated breath, for Mason's response. But I can't take it anymore, and neither can Morgan "I'm not standing out here, listening to her deal her life away." He says, turning to walk out of the tent without a second glance back.

"Morgan!" Hotch shouts at the same time I do and he pauses, turning to look directly at me "She. Is. Going. To. Die." He says slowly "And we can't let that happen, I can't let that happen. Just standing here, listening to her convince the unsub to kill her."

"You don't have a choice." Hotch said

"I don't?" Morgan asked, surprised, and he takes a few steps closer to Hotch, his attention now focused on him "Why don't I have a choice Aaron?"

"Because that house is rigged to explode if anyone tries to get in." I say slowly, reminding everyone while we are still stranded out here in the first place "Derek I want to be in there as much as you do, maybe more, but we don't have a choice. Not if we want to save JJ's life."

"She's talking her life away." He repeated "We don't' have time to wait for the bomb squad, you know that Emily."

"I know." I repeat and before I speak, the unsubs voice crackles in our ears

"But you don't want to die." He says "You may be a big, bad FBI agent but behind that fucking badge, you're just a woman, like all the rest. You don't want to die, you may say that you want to sacrifice yourself but that's a lie."

He grabs you, pulling you away from the wall and towards the middle of the grimy basement room "I don't want to die." You confirm, giving a slight nod "But I took an oath to protect and that girl, Alicia Lewis, she doesn't deserve to die, she doesn't need to die. I will protect her." The unsub looks off screen, whether Alicia Lewis is conscious or not we don't can't tell, we simply hope for the best "But" you continue "I have a question for you."

A question?

We all look at the screen, wondering what you're getting at with that. God I hope you have a plan.

"I'm wondering that if you really wanted to immortalize yourself you would have recorded all of this, beyond the video camera, you would have worn a wire or tape recorder. But you're not wired."

It's a message.

Maybe.

Or you're trying to buy time for something.

Hotch doesn't care, he think's it's a message and let's be honest, why else would you talk about recording yourself like that? I'm bullshitting myself, hoping that now, as we, accompanied by S.W.A.T., make our way to the house, we're not about to get ourselves blown up.

Hotch is at the front, his hand resting on the door handle for just a brief moment before he pushes it open. Nothing happens.

I exhale, following S.W.A.T. as they clear the first floor of the house and Morgan and I make our way towards the basement stairs. It is only now, as we open the door, that we hear the unsub respond "You bitch!" he shouts and there's a scuffle, a crack and a groan.

Fuck.

Morgan's running down the stairs.

I'm right behind him as Charles Mason's screams of fury indicate that he is rapidly approaching that point of no return "You were sending a message to your little cop fuckers weren't you? I can hear them creeping around upstairs."

More violence.

Groans.

Grunts.

But no tears, no crying, no begging for him to stop.

We're at the bottom of the stairs and thankfully there's only one door to choose from, not that it would have been hard otherwise. A shot rings out.

We act on instinct, Morgan kicking the door open with such force that it splinters in half, he fires two shots into the unsub and I do the same. But I don't stand around to watch him fall, instead I'm yelling into my radio, attached to my shoulder "Get me a Medic down here now!" and then I turn to you.

"Emily." You say, your voice is weak, but you're fighting.

"Yeah Jay" I say, as I place my hands over the gunshot wound and put pressure, trying to stop the profuse bleeding "You're going to be okay."

"Stop lying." You say and you're strength is fading fast "Tell-tell Henry"

"No" I shake my head "Jennifer Jareau you're not going to die on me, not here, not now, you're going to tell Henry how much you love him in the hospital okay?"

"Tell Henry I love him." You finish, through gritted teeth "Make sure he knows that I will always love him." And you grab my hand, gripping it with what little strength you have left "Please."

I nod, looking around for a moment, Reid is one his feet, saying something to Alicia, I think Morgan is shouting for the medics, but I can't hear them. I only hear you, your labored breathing, your words, hissed out through gritted teeth "And the team" you continue, or you try, but your eyes close.

"No! JJ, stay with me please!" I screaming now, fighting tears that threaten to cloud my vision "Please." I repeat "Don't leave me, come on now."

But you're gone.

And the medics are too fucking late.

You died holding my hand.

I watched the life fade from your eyes.

I felt your hand go limp in my own.

Fuck.

The tears prick my eyes and I don't do anything to stop them. I have nothing to be strong for anymore, Henry will always know that his mommy loved him, your funeral and wake has been and passed, I don't know what I'm being strong for anymore. They slip and slide down my face, mixing with the rain that's already soaked me to the bone.

I look up and for the first time I look at your headstone

Jennifer Jareau

Beloved Mother, Daughter and Friend

July 22nd 1982-September 13th 2009

It doesn't do you justice.

But nothing that belongs on a headstone really would.

Hey, so I'm not quite sure where this came from or what I think of it. That's really all I have to say. Please, please, please let me know what you thought, because I don't have a clue.

Also the title of this one-shot comes from the song I was listening to while I was writing it.

LogicBomb.32

P.S. As well as working on Go All The Way I am looking for some one-shot prompts, just for fun. So if you have any requests, lemme know!