Emily comes back from London to save JJ from Askari, but the rest of the team are still rushing from DC. JJ is crashing, and Emily is struggling to undo the painfully tight bindings holding her up.
@juneofdoom for prompt :: @saradika-graphics for dividers
Emily Prentiss & Jennifer “JJ” Jareau (platonic. can be read as romantic but is not explicit)
Jennifer “JJ” Jareau / Tivon Askari (rape. not romantic, not glamorised/romanticised.)
Tivon Askari :: Emily Prentiss :: Micheal Hastings :: Jennifer “JJ” Jareau :: Aaron Hotchner :: Derek Morgan :: Alex Blake :: Mateo Cruz
Gags, Kidnapping, Restraints, Hitting/Battery, Chains, Torture, Drugging, Concussions, going unconscious, implied past s/a, past miscarriage mention
JJ’s eyes flicker open with a slap to her face, the dirty cloth in her mouth muffling her gasp of pain. She panics, her sight blurry for a few seconds in her confusion. Fear runs down her spine as she notices the man looming over her. The glaring face of Askari is only a foot away. An image she thought remained in only her nightmares. His rough, calloused hand cradles her cheek. She tries to pull it away but he grips it harshly, his dirty fingernails digging into her skin, keeping her head in place where she has no option but to meet his gaze. His eyes are burning, the sadistic joy making her chest feel like it’s being crushed by the pressure and overwhelming terror. ”Fuck. Not him.”; she can’t do this again. She can’t. She’s spiralling. She can’t tear her mind away from the thoughts of… of then. Years ago, but her mind manages to slip back into the memories, into the mindset as if it was merely days. Being blown up, the pain, the heat, the scorching feeling activating every nerve. The fear, the terror, the despair, the loss of her child. And how she rushed to help Emily, leaving her mission, ignoring everything that had happened, the moment she needed her. She tries to shake her head, to clear her mind. She recoils in disgust when its held in place with the… bloody hands of Tivon Askari. She swallows, her mouth dry and her tongue suddenly feeling too large for the space.
“The code, Jareau.”
Her blood runs cold. She tries to respond with a hard “No.” but it just comes out as a hmph behind the rag stifling her. She receives another hard slap against her face, causing her left eye to water when it’s caught too sharply at the wrong angle. Askari slowly lifts the cloth off her cracked lips. She doesn't hesitate before biting his finger, the appendage uncomfortably close to her face. She’s sure Spencer would come up with some fact about the human jaw strength, but he’s not here. Nobody is. So she just bites down as hard as she can with her aching jaw, aching jaw? She had’t even realised that she was injured there, feeling the joint pop and shift in her mouth. He yells out, pulling his hand away with a splatter of blood across the floor and JJ’s clothing. She gathers as much spit as she can before directing it as his face, only angering him more. His face is red as he wipes the spit off, blood smearing on his chin. In barely contained anger, he barks out an order to his anonymous hired muscle, his voice stiff. She knows Askari. And she knows he is saving his anger for a violent outburst. She can only pray the team will find her first
“Chains, now.”
Before she can process the words, heavy shackles are clasped around her wrists, neck and ankles. They’re made of thick iron, and despite her extensive training, in her weakened state she can’t lift her hands more than a few inches. It’s tight, heavier than the normal handcuffs they use. Heavier than the ones they use in jail. She shudders. They must be custom. And that scares her. The metal around her neck that is attached to the chair back certainly seems to be a collar, and she feels ill at the image. It weighs heavily on her shoulders, the cold metal making her shiver. The involuntary instinct makes it move against her collarbone and shoulder blades and she winces in the sharp temperature. Her ankles are restrained too, tied together with a metal clasp. Even if she escaped from the godforsaken restraints on the chair, she would be reduced to squirming on the floor, unable to stand. Her eyes scan the room, trying to find an exit. She struggles in panic as she sees Askari approach her with a needle and a small vial, suppressing a pained breath as she tries to wrench her body, her arm, away. But he’s stronger than she is, taller than she is, and doesn’t have a concussion like she undeniably does. He easily grabs her arm with his harsh hands and holds it firmly in place, slipping the needle into the crook of her arm where she knows Spencer has a constellation of marks and she slips into a fuzzy unconsciousness that isn't quite sleep. She can feel the looming presence above her. She’d rather see anyone but him. His thumb pulling at her lip, the dulling, foggy pain of it splitting open the last thing she feels before she’s stolen away into a unconscious, restless state.
AN: i am having so much fun with cm angst… but i have nobody to TALK TO ABOUT IT. I’ve been glaring at the Quan-Tea-Co discord server because i keep seeing it mentioned but alas. i am 17. and will not be 18 for almost a year. so if theres anywhere i can yap about *this* type of cm fic where im age eligible please hmu…. Or if you want to talk to me abt it my dms are open!! The next chapter should be out sometime next week :) find me on ao3 at may_be_angsty
