All My Heart

Officers rush to the unsub who now lies on the floor in a quickly growing pool of blood. I still stand there with my gun in my hand that hangs at my side, staring at the unsub. Lifeless, dead unsub. “Morgan!” I hear Alex gasp. I hear someone drop to the floor behind me.
“I’m fine. It hit my vest,” he grunts painfully.
Reid steps in front of me. “Juliet?” I pull my stare from the unsub and look at Reid. He frowns and reaches forward, gently pulling my gun from my hand. “Are you alright?”
“I…Yeah, I’m fine.” I take my gun from him and holster it. I turn away from him and towards Morgan as Alex helps him up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, are you really?” he presses.
“I’m fine.”
The plane ride is pretty quiet. I take to curling up in the corner of the couch and reading a book. Only, I can’t focus it for more than thirty seconds. I’m haunted by the image of my bullet piercing the unsub’s chest, his lifeless form lying on the floor.
Reid takes a seat next to me. “You’ve been on the same page for the past thirty-two minutes,” he states quietly.
“It’s really fine print,” I answer. He peeks over the cover of the book and then raises his eyebrows in disbelief.
“It’s going to stick with you for a while,” he tells me, “it did for all of us. Just…don’t hesitate to use your resources. It helps with the healing process.”
At that, he gets up and returns to his seat next to the sleeping JJ.

“How are you?” Reid wonders over dinner. I shrug. “Juliet, we’re not at work anymore. I guarantee you you’re no place that I haven’t been.”
“It’s just the nightmares,” I begin.
“They’re a plague,” he agrees. “I had them for months after the first time I shot someone.”
I nod slowly. “I mean, other than that, I’m fine. I’ve been losing so much sleep because of them.”
“Just promise me you’ll handle it better than I did.”
I nod again, knowing about his addiction on account of Tobias Henkel. “Did everyone know?”
“Gideon did, and Hotch had an idea. The rest of them didn’t know until much later.” He takes a sip of his water. “I take that back. Emily knew.”
“Emily?”
“Prentiss. She was here before Blake. She left after Ian Doyle—“
“I learned about him in the Academy. The arms dealer, right?” Reid nods. “Wait, this was the team that shut him down? They weren’t allowed to disclose the team because their methodology was far from textbook.”
“It was a little unorthodox,” he admits, slight laughter in his voice. “But we got the results we had hoped for nonetheless.”
“You guys have really been a great team throughout the past decade.” Reid nods in agreement.
“We still are. Ten cases in the last thirteen weeks. Five since you’ve been here.” I nod, thinking back to the last two months. “How are you liking it?”
“I love the BAU. I’m applying to stay here already if Hotch will let me.” Reid’s lips pull into a smile.
The rest of dinner is over small conversation, and Reid volunteers to pick up the tab. We head our separate ways back to our apartments. Since shooting down the unsub, I keep the TV on at all times. It might have sent my electricity bills through the roof, but it keeps me distracted. I’ve always been able to compartmentalize well, but this is a whole new level. It’s hard to justify taking a human life, especially when you spend your whole life learning that it’s so wrong.
I spent months preparing myself for this, training for it, but they don’t teach you how to handle it. They told us that everyone handles it different. It’s a bridge we’d have to cross when we got to it.

They said regardless of how we reacted the first time, we’d make the decision again in a heartbeat. And all of that information is racing through my head as my gun is pointed towards this case’s unsub—a fifty-year-old man, ex-marine, who has brutally murdered and raped four college students from around the area. Here he has the fifth tied up in his basement, and I’m holding him at gunpoint. Alone.
“Put the weapon down,” I repeat. He stands there, knife at the ready and pointed towards me. “Drop the weapon. Do it now.”
Sets of footsteps begin to creak up the stairs. “Juliet?”
“Here!” I call back, keeping my gun trained on the unsub, but looking away for a split second. Rookie mistake.
By the time I’m turned back around, I catch a gleam of silver before throwing my left arm up in defense. I feel the blade pierce my skin. My finger slips on the trigger of my gun, and it fires wildly. The unsub lets out a sharp gasp, and the knife clatters to the floor.
“Juliet!” An arm wraps around me and leads me out of the room as I holster my gun, and the unsub is assessed. “She’s bleeding. Get her a medic.”
I’m passed back into the arms of JJ. “Are you alright?” she inquires.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll just need a few stitches,” I reply. I shake my head and sigh. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“Did what?” She stops and looks at me.
“I took my attention away from him. Just for a split second.” I shake my head again as JJ sits me down on the bumper of the ambulance. Medics tend to my arm immediately. “They always told us never, ever take your eyes off the unsub. Especially when you’re alone with them—“
“Juliet, you made a mistake. So what? Everyone does, and you’re okay. We got the unsub. We saved a life today. That’s what matters in the long run.”
I look up at her. “Thank you, JJ.” She smiles and heads over to where Hotch and Morgan are talking.
“He got you pretty good,” Alex states, inspecting the wound currently getting stitched up.
“Yeah, he did.” I wince a little. Reid approaches, and Alex smiles at him before heading over towards the rest of the team.
“Are you alright?” he questions. I nod and take my arm back after they wrap it. “That’s not what I’m asking.”
“I hesitated, Spencer. I made a stupid mistake. I let it get into my head.” He waits for me to continue. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”
Reid frowns. “It’s a tough job, but if you couldn’t handle it, you’d have been gone two months ago.”
“I’ve only been here for two months.”
“Exactly.” He nods towards the team, and I follow him over. Hotch looks at me in such a way that I know he’s examining me. I glance at him quickly before following Alex into an SUV.

I slam the door to my apartment shut and lean against it. This job doesn’t get any easier, and I know that. I know what I signed up for. And I don’t know how common it is to take the job home like this, but it gets worse every day.
I take my holster off and let it fall onto the floor. I rub my face then run my hands through my hair. My chest gets tight as I let my mind flash through the past few cases, the two men I shot and killed, and their lifeless, bloody bodies on the ground.
I can’t do this. Not on my own.