Interview Commenced: 6.57pm, 11/07/2009
Some UnSubs when faced with the unrelenting gaze of Derek Morgan crumbled. They were the type of UnSub that were generally created in a moment of anger. Whilst remorseful, they would hastily tamper with the scene and then run. Survival was most important to them. On being cornered they would see that they had failed. Then the begging would start.
Mission-Orientated killers were harder to crack. They were the ones that the neighbours couldn't believe committed these atrocities. This was because they was based in reality. Their self-righteousness made them unable to see their crimes. To them, they were not guilty, and this made the lying much easier. However, they normally went down in a hail of bullets, unable to see that their mission had failed.
On the other end of the scale were the control-orientated types. These were generally sexually orientated crimes, and the UnSub would gain great pleasure from going over and over the details, wanting to get a rise out of the Agent interrogating them. Morgan had interviewed many sexual sadists who boasted of their crimes, their laughter and enjoyment still burned in his mind. However, he felt that locking them in a cold, dark place for the rest of their life gave him the last laugh in the end.
The man sitting opposite him was none of these. His crimes were no accident, he never wanted to eradicate the world of a certain group of people, and above all he did not get gratification from the domination of his victims.
That wasn't what made this interview difficult, however. What made this situation so different was that this man was never meant to be sitting on the other side of this table. He was never meant to be in chains, the handcuffs glinting in the light from the solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling.
He was meant to be their friend.
That never meant he was going to go easy on him. The man stopped being their friend when he killed his first victim.
"Aaron Hotchner, you have no alibi for the nights of the 23rd and 29th of June, nor the 2nd, 5th and 7th of July."
Silence.
"DNA evidence has placed you at the scene of both the Wilcox and the Muir murders. Do you have anything to say?" Morgan tried not to sound as if he were pleading. He hadn't said a word since his arrest. It was Rossi who had brought him in. Anyone in the BAU could see that he never wanted to do it, but if it was anyone else it would have seemed wrong.
The silence dragged on, and Morgan found himself properly looking at the man he once called his boss more closely. His hair was messy, a far cry away from the usual styled to perfection look, and he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Morgan wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't. It wasn't this that chilled him most though.
It was his eyes.
Looking into them, you could believe in an instant that this man had butchered five families. The cold, repressed fury burning in them had taken everyone by surprise. Rossi used to say Hotch had his father's temper. Now finally the team saw why.
There was only one thing that related back to the man he once knew. The kills had been clean. There was no indication that he wanted the families to suffer, and yet Morgan wondered how Janine and Daniel Wilcox reacted knowing their five year old son Jeffrey was dead, moments before the bullets were fired into their brains. That was their last memory, and whilst it wasn't as bad as other deaths, it never meant it wasn't horrible.
It never took a profiler to see that Hotch suffered after The Reaper. They all did, but none of them thought that this would be the fallout. Five dead families, all of them eerily similar to what the Hotchner's had been like before the divorce and before George Foyet.
There really was no denying it was him, but his continued silence wasn't helping him at all, and he felt his anger bubble up dangerously, his professional persona rapidly growing weary of this.
"Jeffrey Wilcox was the same age as Jack. Do you really feel nothing at that?" It was a cheap shot, but at this point he would try anything just to get the man talking.
Silence.
Morgan sighed, sounding far older than his years.
"Hotch, give me something man!" he yelled, his frustration finally overriding proper interview procedure.
Hotch just stared at him blankly, and Morgan growled, his palms hitting the metal table that separated them.
The man opposite never even flinched.
He just wanted to know why, Godammit!
"Morgan, get out of there," came Rossi's order over his ear piece.
Standing up, he noticed Hotch's eyes never even followed him, and clenching his fists he tried not to grab him and beat the answers out of him. It was tempting, but he knew about his childhood, and doing that would have absolutely no affect on the former profiler.
Not looking back, Derek Morgan left the room.
Interview Concluded: 7.22pm, 11/07/2009
A/N: I've seen a lot of UnSub fics and I really wanted to try my hand at it. It was hard picturing Hotch as an UnSub, but I hope this wasn't completely awful! As always, I would appreciate it if you review. :)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds.