𝑱𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝑱𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒖 - 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒎
Third-Person POV
Hospitals all smelled the same—too clean, too sterile, like they were trying to scrub out the pain along with the blood. JJ had been in plenty of them, but it never got easier.
She shifted in bed, biting back a grimace as pain flared through her shoulder. The bullet had gone straight through—clean exit, minimal damage. That’s what the doctors had said. Lucky, they called it.
She didn’t feel lucky.
The door clicked open. JJ looked up, expecting another nurse, but a woman in deep blue scrubs walked in, her hair pulled back in a way that looked intentional but just slightly undone at the edges, like she had fixed it in a hurry. Her eyes looked sharp, but it didn't quite match her exhausted look.
She glanced at the chart in her hands before looking at JJ. “Agent Jennifer Jareau?”
“JJ,” she corrected out of habit.
The doctor nodded. “Dr. Skylar Knight. Most people call me Dr. Skye.”
Skye. It suited her. Sharp, cool.
“I’ll be checking your wound.” Skye set the chart aside and pulled on a pair of gloves. Her voice was smooth, steady. A little detached, but not unkind.
JJ tried to sit up, but pain shot through her shoulder. She sucked in a sharp breath.
Dr. Knight—or Skye, as her ID badge read—stepped closer without hesitation, reaching for JJ’s arm. Her fingers were cool against JJ’s skin, steady despite how tired she looked.
JJ watched her, taking in the details. The faint shadows under her eyes, the way her brow furrowed slightly as she peeled back the bandage.
“You look tired,” JJ murmured.
Skye didn’t glance up, just kept working. “You got shot. I think you win the bad day contest.”
JJ huffed a small laugh. “Fair point.”
The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of Skye’s movements—gloves against gauze, the rustle of fabric, the snip of medical scissors.
JJ let her gaze linger. The sharp angle of Skye’s jaw, the way she chewed the inside of her cheek in thought, the loose strands of dark hair that had escaped her bun. She was pretty. No, beautiful. Dark lashes, sharp cheekbones, full lips that—
JJ stopped herself there.
She forced herself to focus on something else. “ER doctor?”
“Trauma surgeon,” Skye corrected.
“So you fix people up.”
“Something like that.”
JJ studied her again, but this time for no reason other than curiosity. JJ winced as Skye adjusted the dressing.
Skye finished wrapping the fresh bandage and finally met JJ’s gaze. “Everything looks fine,” Skye said. “No signs of infection. Try not to get shot again.”
JJ smirked. “I’ll do my best.”
Skye didn’t laugh, but there was something in her expression—something amused. Then she stripped off her gloves and stepped back.
JJ hesitated. The question left her lips before she thought it through. “Are you always this serious, or is it just the exhaustion?”
For a second, it seemed like she might actually think about the answer. But then she just shrugged. “Depends on the day.”
That was it. That was all she said before grabbing the chart and heading for the door.
JJ watched her go, a strange sort of pull settling in her chest.
She ignored it.
Skye's POV
The last hour had been a blur, and the moment I had scrubbed out, my brain had immediately reminded me that it was time for lunch. But the food didn’t interest me much. I only pushed the sandwich around on the plate, lost in thought.
“Hey, Skye, you coming?” Addison's voice broke through my thoughts. She was already standing by the door, an expectant smile on her face.
"Yeah, just a minute," I muttered, glancing up at the clock again.
I was looking forward to the break. Being surrounded by my colleagues—my friends—was often the best part of her day. Meredith, Arizona, Callie, Amelia, and Teddy often joined me in the break room.
I wasn’t entirely sure when they'd become my family, but they had, and that meant something to me. Today, though, I found myself distracted. My mind kept drifting back to the FBI agent I'd treated earlier that day.
Meredith grinned at me as I joined them. “Tough day?” she asked, her eyes scanning my appearance with a knowing look.
“Same as always,” I said with a shrug, leaning back in my chair. "Long shifts don’t change."
Arizona snorted. “Yeah, you’ve got that tired ‘I’m totally running on empty’ vibe going on.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t disagree. They were right, after all. I was running on fumes. The last case had taken everything out of me.
"Meredith told me you treated an FBI agent today," Addison said as she sat down across from me, folding her arms. "What was she like?"
I took a deep breath, pushing the thought of JJ away. "She was fine. Just a bullet wound. Nothing too crazy."
"Bullet wound?" Teddy leaned over, her brows raised. "That sounds crazy. Was she cute?"
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my expression neutral. "You guys always go there."
"Oh, come on," Callie chimed in, leaning back in her chair. "FBI agent? Definitely hot, right?"
The others laughed, and I couldn’t help but feel the heat rise to her cheeks. "I don’t know what you're talking about," I said, trying to deflect. "She was just a patient."
Arizona raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh, sure."
Amelia leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "Come on, Skye. You've been acting a little off since you treated her. Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on the FBI agent?"
I nearly choked on my sip of water. "What? No. I’m a professional. There’s a line between doctor and patient."
The table erupted into laughter, and I even had to crack a small smile, though I quickly covered it up with a frown. I knew they weren’t going to let it go.
"You’re always so cold, Skye," Callie teased. "People probably think you’re unkind or something, but I know you’re just hiding that soft side."
I shot Callie a playful glare. "I’m not cold."
"Yeah, sure. Just like you're not interested in that FBI agent," Arizona added with a grin.
"I respect the boundaries," Skye insisted, though her voice lacked its usual certainty. "I don't mix work with personal stuff."
Meredith, who had been quiet until now, looked up from her phone and smirked. "You can respect boundaries and still have feelings, Skye."
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I’m not going to cross that line. I don’t mix work with anything personal.”
Teddy gave me a knowing smile. “Maybe you should call her. Just once. Have a drink. I mean, you never know.”
I shake my head firmly. "Nope. Not gonna happen." I grabbed my water bottle, unscrewing the lid and taking a long sip, feeling their teasing eyes on me.
Third-Person POV
JJ was discharged a day later.
She had been stitched up, briefed on her recovery, and handed a folder of instructions. All routine.
And yet, as she stood at the nurses’ station, signing the last bit of paperwork, she found herself looking around. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting.
Maybe Dr. Skye walking down the hall, maybe one last interaction, something that would give her an excuse to ask—
Ask what? For her number? It was just a crush. A fleeting thing. She didn’t even know Skye, not really. And besides, JJ was leaving. They had wrapped the case, and by tomorrow, she’d be back in D.C.
Whatever this was, whatever it could’ve been—it didn’t matter. So she pushed the thought aside, signed the last paper, and walked out of the hospital without looking back.
JJ returned to her hotel room and she folded her clothes mechanically, not really thinking about the task at hand. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the hospital, to Skye—Dr. Knight.
It was a stupid crush. She knew that.
JJ shook her head, pushing the thought away as she zipped up her bag. She was done.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She walked over, opening it to find the rest of the team, looking a little more frazzled than usual.
"Hey, sorry we're late," Morgan said, stepping inside first, his voice apologetic. "We were still wrapping up the paperwork after catching the UnSub."
"It’s a mess at the precinct," Hotch added, his usual stern expression softening slightly. "You okay?"
JJ smiled faintly, even though her shoulder twinged. "I’m fine. Discharged already. I'm good to go home."
"We should’ve been there to keep you company," Emily said, her voice full of concern. "We're so sorry."
JJ waved her hand dismissively, not wanting them to feel guilty. "It’s okay, really. I got through it. Plus, I’m not alone now." She gestured to the packed bag by the bed. "And I’m ready to head home and enjoy the jet’s beverage."
That earned a chuckle from the team.
"You’ve been counting down the hours for that, haven’t you?" Reid grinned.
JJ shrugged with a playful smile. "A little comfort after a case like this is worth it, right?"
"Absolutely," Rossi said, giving her a knowing nod. "Let’s get you out of here and back on the plane."
The team filed out of the room and she closed the door behind her, taking one last look at the room before she followed them to the car.
Her mind wandered again, just for a second, to Skye. She shook her head.
It didn’t matter.
This was just another case, another trip. And she would be back in D.C. soon enough.
But for some reason, the thought of leaving Seattle behind felt harder than it should have.
A Week Later - Washington D.C.
JJ hadn’t expected to see her again.
Seattle had been a fleeting moment, a crush that should’ve disappeared as soon as she boarded the plane back to D.C. And yet, here she was—standing in the middle of a packed convention hall, scanning the crowd for any sign of the UnSub, only to spot someone entirely unexpected.
Dr. Skye Knight.
She was up on stage, mid-speech, her voice calm and authoritative as she presented on emergency trauma response. She looked different outside of the hospital—polished, confident, wearing a fitted blue blazer over her white blouse. But JJ recognized her instantly. The sharp focus in her eyes, the cool demeanor.
JJ wasn’t the only one who noticed her, either.
Morgan nudged her shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that your doctor from Seattle?”
“Yeah. She must be one of the guest speakers.”
“Small world.” Morgan smirked. “You gonna say hi?”
JJ shot him a look. “We’re in the middle of a case, Morgan.”
Morgan held up his hands in surrender but didn’t hide his grin. JJ ignored him, shifting her focus back to the task at hand. The BAU was here because they had credible intel that the UnSub was planning to detonate a bomb at this convention, targeting prominent medical professionals. They didn’t have a face yet, just a profile and a growing sense of urgency.
And then, things escalated fast.
A commotion broke out near the entrance. Security radios crackled. People turned, confused, just as someone in the crowd pulled a weapon.
JJ reacted on instinct.
She ran toward the stage, pushing past startled attendees. The man was moving too quickly—too determined—headed straight for Skye.
Not on my watch.
JJ tackled the man just as he raised his gun. They hit the ground hard. A shot went off, shattering a nearby display. People screamed. Security swarmed in, subduing the suspect while JJ pressed a knee into his back, securing him until handcuffs clicked into place.
“JJ!” Emily’s voice cut through the chaos as she rushed over, gun still drawn. “You okay?”
JJ exhaled, rolling off the suspect. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Only then did she look up—and meet Skye’s eyes.
She was standing a few feet away, still on the stage, staring at JJ like she wasn’t sure if she was seeing things.
JJ pushed herself up, brushing dust off her jeans. She offered a small, lopsided smile. “Hey, Doc, nice to meet you again. You okay?”
Skye blinked, looking from JJ to the man on the ground, then back again. “I—yeah, I’m fine. Did you just—?”
“Save your life?” Morgan cut in with a grin, walking past them to help escort the suspect out. “Yeah, that’s kind of her thing.”
JJ rolled her eyes. “It’s my job .”
Skye was still looking at her, something unreadable in her expression. Then, finally, she huffed out a breath. “Guess I owe you one.”
JJ shrugged. “I’ll take a ‘thank you.’ ”
Skye hesitated for half a second before extending a hand. “Thanks, Agent Jareau.”
JJ shook it, feeling the warmth of Skye’s palm against hers. It was a brief touch, but it lingered longer than it should have.
Before Skye could pull away, JJ reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. “Here.”
Skye raised an eyebrow. “What?”
JJ smirked. “You said you owe me one. Give me your number. That way, if I ever need an emergency trauma consult, I know who to call.”
Skye let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. But she took the phone, typing in her number before handing it back. “It better be only for medical emergencies, Agent.”
JJ pocketed the phone, still smirking. “We’ll see."
What started as casual texts turned into something else entirely.
First, it was just the occasional message—Skye checking in about JJ’s shoulder, JJ teasing her about the chaos of medical conventions.
Then it was late-night calls, conversations that stretched for hours.
Then, it was realizing how much she looked forward to hearing from Skye.
JJ wasn’t sure when it shifted—when it became more than just talking. But one night, as she sat curled up on her couch, phone pressed to her ear, listening to Skye ramble about some ridiculous hospital drama—she realized it had already happened.
A Few Months Later
JJ had never been the type to rush into things.
She liked slow, steady, the kind of connection that built itself naturally over time. And with Skye, that’s exactly what had happened.
Even JJ wasn’t sure when it had become like this—comfortable, effortless.
What started as monthly visits had turned into something more fluid—weekends spent at each other’s places, stolen hours whenever their schedules aligned. It wasn’t always planned, but neither of them seemed to mind.
Now, as she lay in bed at Skye’s house, propped up on her elbow, watching the steady rise and fall of Skye’s breathing, she wondered when exactly she had started feeling this much.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the dim light seeping in from the city outside. The sheets were tangled between them, the air warm from shared body heat. JJ hadn’t meant to stay the night, but neither of them had brought it up when she did.
Skye was asleep—JJ thought she was, at least. But then she shifted slightly, her arm slipping from beneath the blanket.
That’s when JJ saw it.
Faint lines. Some old, some new. Scars running along the inside of Skye’s wrist.
JJ’s stomach tightened.
For a long moment, she didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Skye shifted again, her face turning into the pillow, and JJ saw the way her fingers curled instinctively, like she was hiding them even in sleep.
JJ swallowed hard.
She didn’t want to wake her, didn’t want to make her feel exposed or vulnerable. So instead, she reached out—slow, careful—and let her fingers brush lightly over Skye’s knuckles.
Skye stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep.
JJ saw the exact moment she realized what JJ had seen.
Her whole body tensed. She didn’t pull away, not yet, but she didn’t meet JJ’s eyes either.
JJ spoke first. “Skye…” Her voice was quiet, careful. “How long?”
Skye hesitated, then shrugged. “Years.”
JJ let the silence stretch for a beat before asking, “Still?”
Skye hesitated, then nodded. Barely.
It wasn’t much of an answer, but it was honest.
JJ’s heart ached. Not out of pity—Skye would hate that—but because she understood . Because she knew what it was like to carry pain so deep it clawed at you from the inside.
She sat up slightly, shifting closer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Skye let out a soft, humorless laugh. “JJ. You’re an FBI agent. You profile people for a living. You already know the answer.”
JJ sighed. “Because you didn’t want me to look at you differently.”
Skye turned her head then, finally meeting her gaze. “Because I didn’t want you to pity me.”
JJ shook her head. “I don’t.”
Skye studied her, like she was waiting for JJ to flinch, to say something that would confirm all the worst thoughts she had about herself.
But JJ didn’t flinch.
Skye exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Let’s just—forget you saw anything.”
JJ swallowed. “I can’t.”
Silence.
Skye’s jaw tensed, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. “It’s not—” She stopped, exhaling harshly. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to me.”
Skye let out a humorless laugh, but there was no amusement in her eyes. “Why? Because I’m supposed to be the level-headed, composed trauma surgeon who has it all together?”
JJ shook her head. “Because I care about you.”
That seemed to land differently. Skye’s expression faltered, something breaking in her gaze.
JJ hesitated before reaching out, gently running her thumb over the faint ridges of old scars. She didn’t press, didn’t force. Just offered warmth. A touch that wasn’t clinical or judgmental—just there .
Skye looked down at their hands, her breath unsteady. “It’s not what you think.”
JJ’s voice was soft. “Then tell me what it is.”
“It helps. Sometimes. When it gets too loud.”
“Do you still…?” JJ hesitated, unsure how to ask.
Skye didn’t make her finish the question. “Not as much anymore. But sometimes.”
“Okay.” JJ nodded, her fingers tightening slightly over Skye’s. “Do you have someone to talk to? A therapist?”
Skye huffed. “You sound like Addison.”
“Well, she’s smart,” JJ said, attempting a small smile.
Skye didn’t smile back. “I’m a doctor. I know what I should be doing. But knowing and actually doing it are two different things.”
JJ nodded. She understood that more than she wanted to admit.
So instead, she reached out again, her fingers lacing with Skye’s.
“You don’t have to do it alone.”
Skye let out a soft, broken laugh. “I’m fine , JJ.”
JJ squeezed her hand. “I don’t believe you.”
Skye’s eyes flickered up to meet hers. For a second, she looked like she wanted to argue—but then something in her face shifted, and instead, she just exhaled, like she was too tired to fight it.
JJ moved closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Skye’s forehead. “I’m here, okay? You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. But you don’t have to hide from me.”
Skye closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. “…Okay.”
JJ wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. And this time, Skye let her.
It wasn’t a solution.
It wasn’t an instant fix.
But it was a start.