Author's Note: This story took me far too long to write, but I couldn't focus on anything else until I got it down. HUGE thanks to brynnifer and littlegreenbottle who beta'd it (and prety much told me when it was crap and how to fix it :D).

I promise, some day I won't write JJ whump.

But alas, today is not that day.

"The State calls Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia to the stand." The well-dressed attorney addressed the judge.

Garcia fingered the silver locket around her neck as she raised her right hand and swore under oath to tell the truth, with an affirmative "Abso-poso-lutely."

"A simple 'I do' is sufficient." The judge smiled kindly.

"I do." Penelope amended, cursing herself for messing up so early on her witness testimony.

Henry was counting on her.

JJ was counting on her.

And Penelope Garcia always delivered.

"Ms. Garcia, what is your relation to Jennifer and her family?" The attorney stood, pulling slightly at the cuff of his jacket. This was a high profile case that the young district attorney was not about to lose. Pulling out all the stops, he knew he had the case in the bag.

"I'm Henry's Godmother and I'm Ms. Jareau's—JJ—I mean Jennifer—wow, it's so weird to call her that—I'm Henry's Godmother and JJ was my best friend." Penelope rambled nervously.

"Ms. Garcia, how long have you known Jennifer Jareau?" The attorney asked.

"Almost eight years." Garcia smiled. "Her first day at the FBI, she invited me into her office for Red-Hots. She was humming David Bowie, and we've been friends ever since."

"Ms. Garcia, I'm going to need you to answer the question as clearly as you can." The judge instructed. "It is difficult for the court recorder there to type down all of your words if you keep correcting yourself."

"Right. I'm so sorry." Penelope apologized to the nice white haired lady who was typing away furiously.

"And what is the nature of your position at the FBI?"

"Well I used to be just a technical analyst for the Behavioral Analysis Unit—that's where JJ used to work. When JJ left the BAU for the Department of the Defense, my job just got more and more complicated. I guess that was okay because I knew JJ would be coming back—Hotch said he'd make sure that he got JJ back, and Hotch doesn't lie."

"By 'Hotch', you mean Agent Hotchner?" The district attorney clarified.

"Yeah—I mean yes." Penelope shook her head as she corrected herself, remembering the DA's careful instructions.

"What type of Agent was Jennifer Jareau?" The attorney asked.

"Objection." The female attorney for the scumbag stood immediately, "The victim's history is not on trial here."

"It goes to show the impact the defendant's conduct had on the victim." The DA countered.

"I'll allow it." The judge said, motioning for Penelope to answer.

"The best." Penelope smiled, though her eyes became misty, "JJ was the type of Agent who really cared about the victims. We saw awful, horrible things every day, but JJ was like the glue that held everything together." Fingering the silver heart around her neck, she smiled. "JJ was our humanity. She connected with people in a way none of the rest of us could. She was compassionate, kind, and wonderful." Penelope's voice hitched. "She was my very best friend."

"And now?" The attorney prodded.

Turning to the man seated next to his attorney, Penelope's eyes hardened. "Do you know what you took from her? From Henry? That little boy deserved—" Penelope choked, "You took everything!"

"Objection!" The woman stood. "Move to strike the witnesses testimony from the record."

"Sustained." The judge ordered, and Penelope continued unphased.

"I—I don't hate people easily—I love people. All people—big, small, fat, thin—I love them all." She scowled at the man who remained silent, "But you—I hate you. I wish you would die. You took everything that was right and good in the world and you—you—you're a monster."

"Ms. Garcia," The attorney stopped her, his voice soft and kind, "thank you for testimony. Nothing further."

"Major Cartwright, how long have you been with the Department of Defense?"

"For the last 5 years."

"What did you think about Agent Jareau when she first started with the Department of Defense?"

The Major chuckled involuntarily at his first meeting with JJ. "We didn't get along at first." He smiled. "She came in and plowed ahead full force. I tried to point out that there was a leadership structure she needed to acknowledge."

"Then what happened?" The DA asked.

"She pulled me aside, told me that she didn't want to be there anymore than I wanted her there but she told me in no uncertain terms that the 'leadership structure' I cherished had just been knocked on its ass." He smiled as a chuckle echoed throughout the courtroom. "From that moment, I knew she was not another doe-eyed rookie I could intimidate. We quickly became friends."

"So it was not unusual that you were partnered together like you were on January 24?" The lawyer clarified.

"No. If we could find a way, JJ and I usually ended up paired up together. She had my back," The Major choked back a swell of emotion, "and I had hers."

"Could you explain what happened on January 24?"

The Major cringed as he thought back to that winter day.

"Nice job Jenny." The Major smiled as he held the sedan door open for the newest agent that joined the team.

"Call me Jenny one more time Scott—"JJ rolled her eyes with annoyance as she slipped into the car.

"And you'll what?" The Major chuckled, shutting the door and running around the car and jumping into the driver's seat. "Tell the press on me?" He added as he shut the door behind him.

"You'd be surprised at what I can accomplish." JJ snorted good-naturedly, glancing curiously behind her at the revving engine behind them. "I have contacts."

"Ha!" The Major snorted, "Finally, you admit it!"

JJ rolled her eyes and groaned, "For the last time, I did not grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth. I grew up in Pennsylvania—"

"Well your 'contacts' got you transferred to the DoD. I'd say that only comes from a girl who's connected." The Major teased.

"Shut up and Drive." JJ shook her head, vowing to come up with an excellent retort for the next time this came up. Truthfully, Major Scott Cartwright reminded her of her oldest brother Paul and the two had developed a great relationship after what was admittedly a rocky start.

"Colonel Davidson is back at the Pentagon." Major Cartwright added, sensing he was dancing on Jenny's last nerve, "He's hoping this press conference will give us a lead."

"One can only hope." JJ muttered, growing increasingly frustrated at the terrorist cell that continued to threaten the area with vague promises. JJ groaned as she accidentally dropped her phone onto the floor. Reaching down, she was stopped by the seatbelt that caught her—preventing her from grabbing the cellular device.

At the sound of the blonde unbuckling her seatbelt, the Major smirked, glancing in the rearview mirror to observe the large SUV that was following just a little too closely. "You know, seatbelts are supposed to save our lives."

"Then don't hit anything and I'll be just fine." JJ retorted, leaning forward to grab her phone.

The car in front of them slammed on their brakes and the Major reacted instantaneously. JJ winced as she lurched forward, bracing herself against the dashboard in an attempt to steady herself. As the car steadied to a stop, both JJ and Major Cartwright fell back in their seats, breathing heavily at their narrow escape from something far more serious.

"This is why people wear seat belts." The Major chuckled nervously.

"You don't have to remind me of that." JJ smiled, instantly buckling her seatbelt and thanking a God she had believed in since her childhood that she'd be able to go home to her son.

Neither saw the large truck barrel toward them from JJ's side.

"And what was the next thing you remember?" The attorney asked, breaking Major Cartwright from his memory.

"Pain." The Major choked. "I—the next thing I remember we were upside down. JJ—she wasn't—she couldn't—God, she was so—broken."

"Thank you Major Cartwright, nothing further."

"Please state and spell your name for the record." The attorney instructed the nervous looking 23 year-old who twitched uncomfortably in his seat.

"Mason Adams. M-A-S-O-N A-D-A-M-S." Mason sighed, trying to calm his nerves. This was the right thing to do.

"Mr. Adams, How do you know the defendant?"

"We were friends—best friends."

"And where were you the morning of January 24?"

"I was in the car with Dale. We were driving into town to get some supplies for an ice fishing trip we were going to take."

"What happened that morning?"

Mason grinned as he shut the back of the old pickup truck, excited for the trip he and Dale were about to take. "This trip is going to be awesome."

Dale grimaced, an unfamiliar coldness blanketing his eyes. "There's something I've got to do first."

"Okay, that's cool. What errand do you need to run?" Mason inquired as he hopped in the passenger's seat of Dale's large SUV.

Dale pulled out a thick stack of papers, rummaging through what appeared to be a collection of maps and schedules. "9:24. It should just be ending."

"What should just be ending?" Mason asked, perplexed. Dale wasn't normally like this—muttering to himself and caught up in some passion Mason knew nothing about—truth be told, he was a little frightened by his long-time friend.

"They deserve it." Dale's entire demeanor was cold and unfeeling. "They—they're ruining the country."

"Who are?" Mason asked, surprised as Dale began speeding down the road at a dangerous pace. "Dude, you've got to slow down."

"They deserve it."

"Who?" Mason asked, gripping the door handle furiously as the car approached a small sedan that was waiting at the red light.

Dale grinned maniacally. "They deserve it. And now, everything's perfect."

"Dale! Stop!" Mason cried, suddenly knowing with a sickening reality of what was going to happen next.

Dale swerved, striking the tiny sedan and sending the car rolling. With perfect calmness, he threw his own car into reverse and began to drive away.

"Mr. Empke is suggesting that the crash involving SSA Jennifer Jareau and Major Scott Cartwright was simply an accident. Do you agree?"

Mason bit his lip thoughtfully, "I want to—Dale's a good guy. I've known him my whole life." He explained, "but no. This was no accident."

"But you allowed him drive off?" The attorney asked for clarification.

"Dale—he had this look in his eyes, I just knew that if I stopped him if I got out of the car, he'd kill me." Mason explained, looking at the gallery full of FBI Agents that seemed to be shooting daggers at him. "But as soon as we got up to the lake, I stepped away and called the police."

"Thank you Mr. Adams, nothing further."

"Officer Riley, can you tell the court about the accident that occurred on the 24th of January?"

The young officer nodded, "I responded to a hit-and-run that was called into 911 on 15th Avenue and Columbus Way."

"Would these pictures be an accurate depiction of the accident that you're referring to?" The attorney asked.

"Yes."

"State would like to admit Exhibits 1-17, marked for identification, into Evidence."

The judge nodded, admitting the evidence easily as the prosecutor pulled pictures from the grotesque wreck. "Can you explain the images for the jury?"

"The sedan was struck at a speed calculated between 55 and 60 miles per hour." The officer held up the first picture. "When I arrived on scene the other vehicle was not in sight."

Officer Riley grimaced as he jumped out of his car, momentarily disgusted at the thought that someone could cause an accident like this and just drive away. The entire passenger's side was completely crushed and the car appeared to have flipped several times. Certain that anyone sitting in the passenger's seat would have been crushed, he turned first to the driver of the car.

"Sir?" He called out, not needing to break the glass to gently put two fingers against the man's neck. Finding a slow, but steady pulse, he felt a surge of relief as the black man groaned. "Sir, Stay calm. We'll get you out of there."

"Jenny—" The man moaned.

Officer Riley glanced to the passenger's seat and felt his stomach churn at what appeared to be a woman, bloodied and injured badly in the next seat. "Jenny?" The officer called moving around quickly to the other side of the car.

He stepped around the jumbled mess that used to be a car and tried to reach the woman. "Jenny, can you hear me?"

The blonde barely stirred, but Officer Riley saw the woman's chest rise and fall slightly, an indication that she was at least holding onto the threads of life.

"I need an ambulance and FD 103," He radioed in, "it's bad."

"Jenny?" The driver called, panic filling his voice. "Jenny!"

"Jenny's going to be fine." Officer Riley placated, well aware of the seriousness of this accident and the possible injuries the occupants could suffer. "Jenny will be just fine."

"Not Jenny." The black man moaned, forcing words out of his mouth in an attempt to convey something he thought was important. "Agent—JJ"

"I need you to stay awake." Officer Riley commanded the driver who seemed to be drifting off into his subconscious. "Sir, stay with me."

"Agent Jareau was alive when she was pulled from the wreckage," Officer Riley said softly, "but it didn't look good."

"Doctor Moore, Jennifer Jareau was your patient and was admitted for injuries as a result of a car accident, correct?" The attorney asked kindly.

"That's correct." Doctor Moore, comfortable with testifying after having done it several times but she still fidgeted in her seat, "Agent Jareau was admitted in critical condition with multiple injuries to her right arm, leg, and back and a mild concussion. She was treated immediately with a steroid, methylprednisolone to be exact, to minimize the damage to the spinal chord.""

"Back injuries are quite serious, right?"

"Back injuries can be critical. Due to the force of impact, Agent Jareau had unstable fractures of both the C5 and C6 vertebrae. The additional forces from the car's multiple rotations were sufficient to cause flexion of the spinal cord, resulting nerve damage." The doctor explained, "A C5 lesion generally affects a persons ability to breathe and clear secretions from their lungs. With a C6 injury, with time Agent Jareau could have extension of her wrists and ability to move her arms, but paralysis was nearly certain."

Admitting a picture into evidence, the attorney shook his head grimly. "Do you recognize that photograph?"

Dr. Moore nodded, "It's a picture of Agent Jareau while she was in the Intensive Care Unit."

"Can you explain to the jury what the various tubes were for?" The attorney asked.

"Agent Jareau was unconscious for nearly four days. This picture appears to have been taken after the third day. At that point, her lung function had improved dramatically. Since it appeared she was on the verge of waking up, we performed a tracheostomy which would allow her to speak once she woke up but also have the assistance of machines to help her breathe. This allowed us to decrease the levels of sedation since it takes quite a bit more sedation to keep a patient intubated."

"And you didn't want to keep her sedated and intubated?"

Dr. Moore sighed, "Since she was showing signs of being more awake, but not able to tolerate breathing on her own at the time, the tracheostomy gave her a better chance of making a better recovery by allowing her more freedom of movement."

"And the other tubes?"

"Most of them are monitoring things such as her oxygen levels, her heart function." The doctor explained. "She had to receive nutrition intravenously."

"All of this because of a car crash?" The attorney mused.

"Car accidents account for nearly 44% of spinal chord injuries." Dr. Moore nodded sadly, "Agent Jareau was lucky."

"Lucky?" The district attorney asked in disbelief.

Dr. Moore cringed. Rather than addressing his question directly, she pressed forward, not willing to admit that if it had been her, she would have wished she had died. "All of these medical issues were caused directly from the injuries sustained in the car accident."

"And what are the long-term ramifications an injury such as this?"

"Patients with similar injuries require life-long medical attention. She would need assistance with basic activities in daily living." She shook her head softly, "Jennifer Jareau's life would change more than any of us could ever fathom."

"Detective La Montagne, how did you know Agent Jennifer Jareau and Major Scott Cartwright?"

Will sat forward, trying to force away his nervousness as he leaned forward into the microphone. "JJ is—was—is my fiancé. The mother of our son." He hesitated, unsure of how to adequately explain his relationship with the woman he loved, "She worked with the Major."

"You were notified that she was in an accident?"

Will nodded, glancing over to the gallery of people that included both JJ's former team with the BAU and all of her colleagues at the Department of Defense. "I got the phone call—" He winced at the memory, "I always thought that if she could just start working somewhere safer, some desk job, some safe place that I wouldn't have to worry about that phone call."

"And that phone call told you she had been injured?"

Will bit his lip thoughtfully, not surprised at the emotions that rose within him at replaying the scene again in his mind. "They couldn't tell me anything over the phone." He choked as he remembered the way his heart sunk with a feeling of foreboding. "I just—I was on autopilot and I found myself at the hospital." Will grimaced, "we used to fight about how she'd have to travel. When she was at the FBI, it was like every moment we were on pins and needles waiting for work to call her away." Will looked toward the jury, pleading with them to understand the devastating effects this monster had imposed on his family, "I'd give anything to get that back."

"Had she been injured?" The attorney asked.

Will nodded, his voice breaking as he could only muster a weak, "yeah."

The attorney gestured for him to continue. Sighing, Will pulled the words he had rehearsed so many times before this moment from a reserve deep within himself, "When I saw her, the doctors let me see her, there were so many tubes." Will choked back the thought of JJ lying there so helpless. "We had to wait until she woke up to know for sure what that meant, but the doctors told me that she was most likely paralyzed." He shook his head. "I brought Henry in to see her, but…" He bit his lip as he fought to maintain his composure, "I had to prepare for the worst."

"Your son Henry, how old is he?"

"He's four now." Will smiled at the bright spot in his life. "Four years old."

"How has this accident impacted you?"

Will closed his eyes, feeling the rage at the man in front of him bubble to the surface. "I met JJ, and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was calm, cool, capable…everything that I had always dreamed of." He felt water pool behind his eyelids, "I never knew how she could have fallen for a simple guy like me from the bayou."

"And now?"

Will turned toward the defendant, addressing him for the first time. "You deserve to die. You bastard."

"Objection." The defendant's attorney stood quickly. Truthfully, they didn't have much of a case, but she had to step in before this went too faar.

"Withdrawn." The district attorney held up his hands, smiling with triumph. "Nothing further."

"The State calls Jennifer Jareau to the stand."

The back doors to the court room opened and a gasp was heard as JJ wheeled into the room with her motorized wheelchair.

Penelope smiled sadly as JJ passed her, reminded of how starkly different JJ now was from the woman she used to be. The first day Penelope met Jennifer Jareau, JJ was vibrant. She glowed.

Now…

She still glowed. There was something innate—an inexplicable quality that exceeded a mortal's ability to describe—something about Jennifer Jareau lit up a room every time she entered. Where a crippling injury should have made her jaded and dark, hating the world that was so cruel—JJ had accepted her newfound limitations in stride. But where perfectly formed muscles had been, now her bones struck out sharply.

Fingers that used to subconsciously twirl a pen with grace as she ruffled through case files were tightly clenched, involuntarily fisted no matter how hard she tried.

Legs that used to run and sprint, having been carefully honed after years of soccer training were now lifeless.

This was all so surreal.

"Agent Jareau, can you state your name for the record."

"Jennifer Jareau." JJ smiled brightly, her voice muted and distorted from the permanent access to her throat, but somehow still maintaining a vibrancy that set all at ease. "J-E-N-N-I-F-E-R J-A-R-E-A-U."

"How has your life changed as a result of the accident?" The attorney asked. While it would be nice to have a victim that mulled over her injuries and pled for a swift and vicious sense of retribution, he knew that juries would want to punish a man for stealing so much from the woman that seemed to have had it all.

Regardless, it was more important to allow this woman to say whatever words she needed to say in order to face the man who caused her family so much pain than to manipulate a jury to obtain another win in the column.

"I remember when I woke up," JJ started, clearly enunciating every word, "I was terrified that I couldn't move." She smiled, "The doctors said I may need 'constant medical attention' for the rest of my life." Her grinned broadened, "I do need constant attention, but I have always been that way. Ask Will, he will tell you it has nothing to do with my paralysis." She joked. "I'm just needy." The courtroom paused for a moment, as if uncertain if the woman in the wheelchair was actually laughing about her own condition. After a moment, a few uncertain chuckles were heard, but the attorney pressed forward.

"But you're paralyzed?" The attorney clarified.

JJ nodded, slightly mollified at the censuring look Will sent her from his seat in the gallery. "I am paralyzed."

"How has that changed your life?" The attorney asked again.

JJ paused for a moment, "You know, I never really thought what it would be like to live with a disability." She mused, "I just never really thought about it."

"And now?"

"I still don't think about it." JJ chuckled. "Life has to be lived to the fullest. Just because I can't feel my legs doesn't mean my little boy will wait to ask if it is okay before climbing up on my lap for Mommy to read him a story."

She paused, smirking at the thought of how her little boy loved riding around with her in her chair. "My life isn't over because of what happened to me. It is different. If an elevator is broken down, I can't take the flight of stairs like I used to. I've had a hole in a sidewalk stop me for hours—because I can't just stand up and get out of this chair."

She looked sympathetically at the defendant who shifted uncomfortably from her gaze. "You may claim you were insane, and you and I both know that is not true. You planned this. You wanted to hurt me. But you didn't. Because I'm alive and I refuse to allow this to stop me from being the mother I could be. I refuse to allow this to stop me from catching monsters that haunt our society."

The attorney smiled proudly at the blonde in front of him, "You are still working in law enforcement?" He asked gently, already aware of the answer but wanting to allow the blonde to drive home the point.

Because while winning was important to the young DA, some things were more important.

But allowing a victim to get closure, and chalk up another win under his belt?

Sometimes you can have your cake and eat it too.

JJ smiled gratefully, "I am no longer field certified." She shook her head sadly, "But the government always needs people who can communicate with the press."

"What would you say to someone who asked you what it was like to live with a disability like your own?"

"I'd say I was the luckiest woman alive."

"How so?"

"I could have died. My little boy—he could have grown up without a mother. Every day I get to hold that wonderful little boy in my arms and cry as I tell him how much I love him. Every night I get to kiss my boyfriend goodnight and tell him I love him. Now, I don't let a day go by without telling the people important to me how much I care about them."

Looking around at the faces that were sitting there, silently supporting her through this trial, she grinned as her eyes landed on each face. Reid who constantly went with her to physical therapy appointments. Scott who apologized every time he saw her before teasing her and calling her Jenny. Penelope who had come over two hours before the trial today to help her do her hair just right. And Will. Will who painted her toenails once a week. Will who helped her do her makeup every day. Will who had managed to convince her that he would be there no matter how hard this got. Feeling an errant tear slip out of her eye at the complete wave of gratitude that washed over her, she brushed it away with the back of her balled fist.

"I am extremely lucky."

"Madam Foreperson, has the jury reached a verdict?" The judge asked.

"We have, your honor."

"How do you find?"

"In the matter of the State v. Dale Empke, we the jury, find the defendant," the woman looked at the defendant with contempt. "Guilty of all charges."