Chapter Text
“Will, I don’t feel too good,” JJ gasped, clutching her stomach in pain.
Something was clearly wrong, although JJ would have liked to believe that it was as simple as a mild case of food poisoning from the sushi she’d had earlier.
Nevertheless, Will was concerned for his girlfriend.
“Chere, where does it hurt?” He asked, getting up from his spot on the couch and kneeling in front of her.
“I-I’m not sure - my stomach,” JJ moaned, curling herself up even tighter than before. Waves of pain were radiating from her pelvic area upwards, and she started to piece together what was happening.
As she shifted, Will caught a glimpse in between her legs, and noticed scarlet liquid seeping through her sweatpants.
His heart rate immediately picking up, he murmured, “Jen, you’re bleeding, a lot.”
“Wha-” JJ was cut off by another jolt of pain. She glanced down between her legs and saw something that no mother-to-be ever wanted to see.
“No, no Will I can’t, this can’t happen,” JJ whimpered, reaching out for his hands but never finding them.
“You need-” She said between shallow breaths,” You need to call 911. I think I’m having a miscarriage.”
She looked up and expected to see Will in front of her. Not him backing away from her.
JJ wasn’t sure what she saw in his gaze, as her usual sharp senses were dulled significantly by her current physical state, but if she had to describe it in one word, she would use betrayal.
Why he was feeling this way, JJ did not know. It scared her, because all she wanted in this moment - really all she needed - was the support of the father of her baby.
“Please, Will,” She whined, choking back sobs. There was far too much blood now, so much so that it had stained the couch. Will loved that couch.
Will was disgusted by what he was seeing. What had JJ done to cause this? Surely it had to have been self-inflicted, just like the skinny red lines that appeared on her arms every so often. She was the optimal age for pregnancy, and her physical state was nothing short of perfection. Sure, she could lose a few pounds, but Will wasn’t overly concerned about that, seeing as she was pregnant.
“What did you do? Did you hurt our baby?” Will shouted, demanding the blonde to provide an explanation as to what he was seeing.
“Wha-? Will, baby, I promise I didn’t do anything,” She sobbed, her hands clutching at her stomach and crotch, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “This just happens sometimes.”
“Bullshit it does! You’re pathetic, you know that? Leading me on for a year only to get yourself knocked up so you can trap me. I quit my job for you! For this! You told me we were going to have a family!”
Will paced around the apartment, grabbing his half-empty beer from the table and finishing it in a few gulps, but not before grabbing another from the mini fridge.
JJ continued to cry, pleading with Will to calm down, and that she hadn’t done anything wrong.
*Are you really so innocent, Jennifer? This isn’t the first time someone has died because of you.*
The voices in her head only made her sob louder, disrupting Will from his thoughts, which she quickly realized was a mistake.
“Shut up, bitch,” He practically screamed, throwing the empty bottle at her, hitting her square in the face.
“It is your fault, just like it was when your sister slit her wrists.” His Boston accent only accentuated the harshness of his words, as they broke JJ further.
He walked over to her, seemingly with concern, and caressed her face in his hands. For a moment, JJ thought that everything would be alright, and that their relationship could survive this.
That is, until Will punched her across the face. His eyes were filled with pure hatred, and it chilled JJ to her core.
“Why did I think that this would work? You’re too broken for this, for motherhood. You’re damaged goods is what you are, Chere.”
JJ cowered away from him, and in doing so, fell off the couch. “Please don’t touch me.”
Will decided that she wasn’t worth his time anymore, instead moving on to beating up the crib they had put together only hours before.
The longer Will raged, the more hazy reality became for JJ. She lapsed in and out of consciousness, each time seeing more blood collecting underneath her. She knew that if she was going to survive this, she had to call for help.
Will knew too, but he didn’t care. She was dead to him either way.
He trashed their apartment, taking special care to find her prized necklace and smashing it into as many pieces as he could manage. He threw all his belongings into a suitcase, not that he had many to begin with. Most of his stuff still sat in a storage locker in New Orleans, awaiting removal.
Glancing at the pathetic excuse of a woman he used to call his girlfriend, he picked up the first thing he could find and chucked it at her head, before leaving the apartment.
Between the object that had hit her head and the sound of the door slamming, JJ was effectively pulled back into consciousness, possibly for the last time.
It took her a few seconds, but she registered that the object laying beside her was the home phone. She knew that Will would not throw it intentionally, and was temporarily in awe of her luck. If you could call the situation she was currently in “lucky”.
She could feel herself losing her senses again, and sluggishly dialed 911 on the phone.
“911, what is your emergency?”
JJ tried to form words, she really did, but she had lost so much blood at that point.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” JJ could pick up concern in the woman’s tone, rightfully so.
She could barely breathe, and any energy she had went toward gasping out a small sob.
“Are you okay? I can hear you breathing, honey, can you tell me your name?”
Her vision became so foggy that having her eyes open would be no better than closing them altogether.
“J- My na- Jen-” She stuttered out, breathing heavily as she tried to recover her composure, if there was anything left of it.
Her face ached, and she assumed that she was bleeding from it due to the warmth pooling under her head. She was surrounded by broken glass; Will had thrown more than one empty bottle at her in his fit of rage.
The pain in her abdomen had gotten so terrible that it felt as though she was being stabbed repeatedly with a dull knife. With every ripple of pain, she could feel blood gushing out from under her.
*I’m gonna die like this, aren’t I?*
“Jen? Is that your name, sweetie?”
All the operator got as a response was labored breathing, coupled with a faint hysterical chuckle.
“Help is on the way, Jen. Can you tell me what hurts?”
Everything. That is what JJ wanted to say. She wanted to tell the operator that her name was JJ, not Jen, because the only person who she had ever let call her Jen was Ros.
If she wasn’t so out of it, she would berate herself for being so incompetent. Why couldn’t she just speak? It wasn’t that hard; she basically did it as a living.
Her mind filled with thoughts of how Spence would tell her all the things that could impair one's speech, and how ironically, he would go on about it for as long as he could, or before someone told him to put a sock in it.
“Honey, are you still there? Try to stay awake, okay, help is around the corner.”
JJ opened her mouth, but that simple act sucked all the strength she had remaining out, rendering her nearly unconscious.
She wondered how much blood someone could lose before they were declared legally deceased. Spence would have the answer.
She wished that she was surrounded by her family, and that she was laying peacefully in Emily’s arms.
Emily.
That was her last thought as she let the pain take over.