AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey all - this is a follow-up to a piece written after Penelope aired called Cleared. You may want to do a quick refresh of that just so that you're up on the original character involved(FBI Psychologist Dr. Ben Macy). In short - I wrote this piece to address how JJ might be feeling after her return from maternity leave and who she might speak to in order to get some issues worked out. This is primarily a dialogue piece.

Thanks for the support as always. Feedback is always graciously accepted.

And J - you're it.

"So you're here because you're struggling," he said calmly. It was a statement not a question. He was leaning back in his chair, legs crossed, a yellow notepad on his lap.

"No," she shot back without hesitation. "I'm not struggling." She practically spat the last word out. Her hands came together for a brief second as she fidgeted. When she saw what she was doing, she pulled them apart.

"Okay." He nodded agreeably. He clicked his pen open and wrote something on his notepad. Then he looked up at her. "So then why did you make this appointment, Jennifer?"

For a moment, she seemed at a loss for words and in spite of himself, FBI psychologist Doctor Benjamin Macy found himself amused.

After all, bringing Jennifer Jareau to a place of speechlessness was no easy task.

He let a few seconds of silence pass before he gently prompted, "Jennifer, didn't we do this last time?"

"Last time?" Innocently oblivious. He wasn't buying the act.

"The part where you come in here and sit, not saying anything."

Abruptly, she stood up and grabbed for her purse. "You know, I think maybe I should…"

"Leave. Maybe coming here was a mistake?"

She stopped moving and stared back at him, annoyed.

"Got you there, didn't I?" he said with a smile.

Normally, he wouldn't play with his patients, but he'd figured out in their previous policy mandated meeting that Jennifer was far from normal.

She'd previously been required to see him after she had killed a suspect. It had been a clean shoot, but adding that onto a whole stack of other issues had given them abundant material to talk about.

But getting her to open up had been like trying to pull an elephant through the eye of a needle.

Impossible until the elephant pretty much said "fuck it" and chose to just break through on its own.

He rather guessed that she wouldn't much care to be called an elephant.

"So," he again prompted. "Why don't you sit back down and let's actually talk about what's bothering you, okay?"

With a small sigh, she dropped back down into chair. Her posture was tight but not very controlled. Her body language was loud and telling.

She was uncomfortable. She was upset. She was out of sorts.

She needed help.

"I just…how much do you know? I mean, how much have you heard about me?" she asked. "I mean about me lately."

"I heard that you recently had a child."

An involuntarily smile broke out on her face and she nodded. "I did. A boy. Henry." Her hand moved for a beat towards her purse and he wondered if she was about to pull out pictures of her infant son. She stopped herself, redirecting her hand into her recently cut hair.

"Mazel Tov."

"Thanks." Her demeanor turned somber again, thoughtful. He scribbled something down on his pad, noting mentally how she scowled when he did it.

"Is leaving Henry when you go to work what's bothering you? Because you know that's normal for new mothers, right?"

"Of course." He watched as she tangled her hand into her hair, swirling her blonde locks around nervously

This wasn't the same woman who had been in his office months earlier. Back then she'd been bothered by things as well, but she had still seemed pretty much in control. Now she looked exhausted and frayed.

"Jennifer, you are aware that despite the impossible expectations you have for yourself, you're not actually Wonder Woman, right?"

Her eyes locked on his and he saw a flash of irritation mixed with stubbornness. "There's nothing wrong with the expectations I put on myself. Nothing."

"Touched a nerve did I?"

"You're very impressed with yourself," she shot back.

"And you're combative today," he replied.

She groaned. "You know, you're supposed to be helping me, not harassing me." Hand back in the hair, turning it in her fingers.

"I'm trying to help you, Jennifer, but for me to do that, you have to drop your defenses for a few minutes. You have to allow yourself to be just a little bit vulnerable."

"No." Her voice left no room for compromise.

"Then we're going to go back and forth like this for awhile," Macy replied, his voice still calm and measured. He didn't seem at all annoyed.

Her jaw ticked just a bit and he could almost see the wheels in her head spinning around, trying to figure out an angle. How to deal with this. How to deal with him.

She knew she couldn't manipulate him. At least not like she did others.

And to be honest, she hadn't come here to manipulate him. She'd come because she needed someone to talk to.

Someone who wouldn't understand just because they were her friend.

She needed to be told what was wrong with her so that she could fix it. So that she didn't feel like she was two steps behind every moment of every day.

So she could find a way to keep her mind tracked while on the clock.

Finally, slowly, she unclenched and spoke. Very softly. "I feel like I'm failing."

"Failing what?"

"In my job. I feel like I'm not doing what I should be."

"Why not?

"Because I don't want to be here most of the time."

"You want to be at home." She greeted his question with silence so he pushed on. "Tell me, why do you think that's wrong?"

"They need me to be one hundred percent here with them when I'm here."

"And you don't think you are?"

"No."

"Okay," Macy nodded.

"Okay?" she asked. "That's your answer? Okay?"

He smiled slightly and then reached behind him. "Do you know what control questions are?"

"In what context?"

"Psychology."

"You're looking for a baseline."

"Right. I'm going to ask you a few questions. None of them are trick questions. Answer whatever the first thought that comes into your head."

"And this will tell you what?"

"It will help tell me where your head is."

She snorted, then waved her hand dismissively. "Okay."

"Good. First thought. No editing, understand?"

"Yeah."

"Red or white wine?"

Her eyebrow lifted. He answered it back with a pointed look. "Red."

"Redskins or Eagles?"

"Redskins."

"Jif or Skippy."

"Jif. Are you going anywhere with this?" she asked.

"Trust me, okay?"

"Do I have to answer that without thinking?" she cracked.

"Cute and no. Can we move along."

"Please."

"Beckham or Pele?"

She snorted. "Please. Pele."

He smiled, hesitated a beat and then went in for the kill. "Who are you?"

She blinked, a bit surprised. "Who am I…"

"First thoughts, Jennifer. Who are you?" Macy reminded her.

"I'm JJ," she answered finally.

"Who is JJ?"

"I don't know." Her eyes hit the ground. "I don't know anymore."

"Therein lay the problem," Macy said softly.

She nodded. "A year ago, I knew exactly who I was. I was JJ, the one who took care of the team…" she held up her hand to stop him from speaking. "Not the den mother."

He smirked. "I didn't say a word."

"You were thinking it."

He didn't deny it. "Go on."

"I was the one who made everything work. Always cool and put together. That was me. I was content with my life. I didn't mind staying until 3AM. And the pictures – even the ones of kids - they bothered me, but I could deal with them…"

"And now?"

"Now I check my watch every five minutes. My phone every three. I keep thinking the daycare is going to call and tell me something's gone wrong."

"Have they yet?"

"No."

"Has the fear gotten better."

"A little."

"That's progress. Baby steps if you'll pardon the pun."

She smiled thinly and continued. "It's not just Henry. Now I dread opening a file thinking I might see a child…I might see what some monster did to them and if I do, I might not be able to hold it together." She took a breath. "I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to let them down."

"Have you talked to Hotch about this?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because he'd understand."

"You know, Jennifer, I deal with a lot of interesting personalities in this job. I don't often deal with ones, however, who are so insistent on doing everything alone that they won't accept the support of their friends and colleagues."

"It's not that. I know they support me. But I need them to know they don't have to."

"They already know that."

"But I don't and that's what I need your help with. I need you to tell me how to be like I was."

"I can't."

"I need you to."

"Jennifer, I can't.

"Why not?" she asked, the pleading stark in her brilliant blue eyes. There were tears there, too. Slight and pooling, but there.

"Because there's nothing wrong with you." He reached behind him and picked up a folder. "Before you came in today, I looked through the files for the cases you've worked since you came back from maternity leave. I've read every write-up, every report and every description. There is nothing anywhere in the file that suggests that your actions are putting your teammates at risk."

"Maybe I should have stayed out longer?"

"Do you think that would have made it easier to come back?"

"No," she admitted.

"Then, Jennifer, what's really going on here?"

"It's me. Something has changed in me. I mean, I get it, I'm a mother now. But I don't want to be soft."

"What makes you think you are?"

"When we're working cases, I'm having a hard time separating. A child disappears and I think 'what if that was my son'. I can't seem to find my distance anymore. I need that back."

"Compassion is never a bad thing…"

"But…"

"Wait. I understand your concerns, but understand this; you are far from the first FBI agent who had a child and came back and wondered if something had gone wrong because they spent the day missing their child. Trust me, it will get easier. But you do have to realize and accept that you have changed as well. That doesn't mean you went soft, it just means you took on a new angle. In the meanwhile, do something to remind yourself of who you were before. Do something that JJ is good at."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Challenge one of your mates to a duel down at the firing range. Maybe Hotch."

"Are you nuts?" she asked. "You are aware he's a crack shot, right?"

"You're not bad yourself."

"I'm not him."

"No, but competition is good for you. Very good. You can't be soft if you're competing, right?"

She considered his statement for a moment and then accepted it..

"Good. This is the second time I'm saying this to you – you're okay. Trust me. You are fine."

Again she nodded.

"My door is always open to you, Jennifer."

She stood up.

"But next time, could we maybe skip the twenty minutes where I have to convince you to talk?"

"Probably not."

"That would be too easy," Macy agreed.

"Yeah," she said with a slight smile. "Thank you."

"Not a problem."

She picked up her purse and turned to leave.

"Jennifer?"

She turned back. "Kick his ass, will you?"

She laughed. "Sure."

He watched her go and then turned and ripped off a piece of paper from his notebook. On it were scribbled notes from the session. On the bottom in clear block letters were the words: AGENT IS FINE.

He slipped the paper into her file and leaned back into his chair, waiting for his next session.

-FIN