You sat in a bar, in your hand, a glass of good old Whisky. You found yourself thinking of the last case, again. This one hit you hard. White man, on his 40s, going to church every Sunday, volounteering, helping the community and he was on the emergency line for the foster kids. That was how he choose his victims. He took children and verbally abused them, hiding behind a mask, a username, on the internet. He did that to the children that were assigned to him. When he started noticing a changing on their behaviour, he took them to this lake, where he was almost drowened by his own father, whom beated him repeatedly during both his childhood ans his teenange years. Then he killed them.
It was the case that got to you the most since you arrived at the BAU. It bought back memories you didn’t want to acknowledge, heck, sometimes you even clamed that you forgot how those years were. With your mom always high on who knows which drugs were this time and your father cheating on her right above our heads, in their wedding room. Nights passed doing homework instead of sleeping beacause during the day you had to look out after your little brother. Now, he was the only family that you had. He died after dad beated him to hard, honestly, you were not even surprised. You screamed out at him, that night. He kicked you out of the house saying that there waas no bother to come back. Let’s say that you didn’t. To be honest, from that period on it was the best period of your life. Yes, you worked your ass of with four different jobs to pay college, since they didn’t anymore. You almost couldn’t attend the lectures because you worked the morning too. But in the end you’ve made it and earned that title too. You were hired for a well paid job and married, he helped you pay your university loan and you couldn’t have been more gratefull than that but he never let you live that, years passed and you attended the FBI accademy, wanting to join the BAU.
It was Christmas break when you came home from it, wanting to spend some time with your husband, not caring that much on was it spent, you found out that he had similar ideas… just not involving you. He left with another woman. His keys of your appartment and a divorce papar to sign as a gift.
You drank from the glass, wanting to forget, like you always did. You knew running away from your problems wasn’t gonna help, but you did anyways, beacuse you knew that if you did otherwise, you would have boken down, and something you were’t going to give to the people who broke you, was the statisfaction of seeing you cry, seeing you care.
Someone tapped your shoulder and you jumped, startled. It was Reid, along with all the team. You remember them saying that they wanted to have a toast, to celebrate the so called ‘happy ending’ but you politely passed, all you wanted was some rest, but half-way to home you changed your mind, figuring you needed a drink, one of the strong ones, to knock you out.
“Hey” you smiled, just your luck. Of all the bars you could pick. You didn’t want them to see you as weak,, you didn’t want them to see you cry, to know what you went throught, to see those pity looks you were so used to. God, you wanted to be way more than a little child to pity. Yes, what happened to you was horroble and you didn’t deserve it, but not a thousand 'sorry’s can change the past, so why bother? You went to the accademy for that, to be someone peole looked at, but in a different way from the one you always saw when you looked in someone’s eyes.
But that wasn’t the looks you were getting, they were the opposite. They were sad, no, they were sorry.
“I thought you were going head back to your house,” he sat next to me “what changed your mind?"he looked at me expectantly, I struggled a bit before answering "I figured I needed a drink” you smiled again, maintaining your facade.
Reid looked at the table, thinking. In that moment, JJ spoke “(y/n)… we know what you went through and we don’t want you to feel that again alone. We’re here and we’re here to help, we’re-” her tone had sped up. You stood, almost knocking over the table “I don’t want your pity!” you shouted, everyone in the local had turned to look at you, silence falling on you like an heavy cloack “I don’t want anyone’s pity.” you left a twenty dollar bill on the table and headed out.
The next day you almost called in ill, yesterday night’s memories still burning fresh.
When you arrived, you decided to act like nothing happened, but soon enough you found yourself looking at the photos that decorated your desk. You were looking at one in particular, the photo group with you and your teammates.
You didn’t notice you started crying until a tear fell on the notebook you were writing on.
“(y/n)…” you looked up, it was JJ “I’m sorry” you apologized, she opened her arms and you gladly took in the hug. “I can understand if you hate me” you say, tears falling on her shirt. “What? No!” she turned to me, but I looked at the floor “Hey, look at me.” I did “I can understand that you want to be something more than that kid who went through so much, and that you want to move on, not wanting other people to see you as just that, but as someone to look up to instead. But if you ever go through that again, we’re here. We can help you, you can talk with us if you want. Ok? We’re here. We’re family.”.
At that point, it became a group up. You kept crying. You didn’t know if for happiness or what. What you knew, is that now you had something new, something you never had and someone, someone to count on… a shoulder to cry on. A family.
