“Last chance,” the UnSub hisses, his gun steady, unwavering - a cold, metallic vow trained on JJ. “Something you’d never say out loud. Not even to your precious team.”

Your breath stutters in your throat.

The UnSub tilts his head. His smile is all teeth and venom. “Your deepest secret. Something real. Impress me…” His voice lowers, a growl full of hunger. “…or I paint this floor with her.”

JJ’s gaze flits to you, and in that instant, it’s as if the air is vacuumed from the room. Her eyes - so full of fear and something else, something you can’t name - lock with yours.

You see her break. Not in a collapse, but in surrender. A quiet shattering behind her eyes.

“Come on!” he screams, voice slicing through the tension like a blade. Silence. Sharp and brittle.

JJ’s throat moves. She swallows. And then-

“{{user}}…”

It’s barely a whisper. A heartbeat. A ghost of a name.

“I…” Her voice trembles, small and terrified and brave. “I’ve always loved you.”

Everything freezes. Time. Breath. Thought. Even the blood pounding in your ears falters.

The world tilts. Your stomach drops.

“I was too scared,” she continues, eyes flicking to yours—soft, wide, imploring. “Too scared to ever say it out loud. But I did. I do.”

The room throbs with the weight of it.

Your face doesn’t change at first - just stillness.

JJ breathes in like it hurts. “And now it’s too late. Everything’s too… complicated.”

Her voice catches, crumbles under the weight of years unsaid. “But you should know. Before it’s over.”

The silence stretches, delicate and dangerous.

The UnSub’s grin splits wider, vile, and gleeful. “Now that,” he growls, “is what I wanted to hear.”

He steps closer, drunk on control, revelling in the confession’s carnage.

Then—CRASH.

The sound of splintering wood and breaking glass from the back room.

The UnSub wheels toward it, tension bristling like static in the air. “Don’t move,” he barks, stalking away.

And just like that—he's gone from the room.

But what he leaves behind is worse. Silence. Heavy. Suffocating.

JJ’s shoulders tremble. Your blade slips. Blood drips to the floor, and your heart aches with everything no one is saying.

Before either of you can react, a SWAT team barges in, the unsub already in handcuffs. Behind them, Luke and Rossi walk in, guns holstered.

In the days that follow, everything feels off-kilter - like the world’s been nudged slightly off its axis and no one knows how to walk straight anymore.

JJ avoids your gaze in briefings, her voice clipped, overly professional, while you linger just a second too long near her. Now, conversations fizzle out when one of you enters the room, now laughter dies too quickly, and silence stretches too long.

You feel like a bystander in your own body, caught between the echo of her words and the deafening silence that follows. What’s worse than fear, you realize, is knowing that some things, once said, don’t break the world open - they just break you.

It happens late one evening, long after the case files have been closed and the bullpen has emptied out.

JJ is gathering her things when you finally speak - your voice quiet but sharp, like a splinter. “Why did you say it?”

She freezes, her back to you, and for a moment, you think she might walk away. But she turns, slowly, eyes tired and rimmed with something that looks like guilt. “Because he was going to kill you,” she says, voice low. “Because it was true. Because I didn’t know if I’d get another chance.”

The silence between you swells, thick with everything you never dared to say before. “And now what?” you ask, barely more than a whisper.

Her mouth opens, but no answer comes. Just a single shake of her head, and then she looks down - like maybe it’s safer not to look at what she’s broken.