No Way Out Part II: The Evilution of Frank – A One-shot

Disclaimer – I own nothing but the ideas

So another episode and another one-shot! I will introduce this by saying I have never written anything with Gideon in. He scares me, not just as a writer but also his character – I really could picture him on the other side of the fence. So instead of a complete Gideon one-shot I have gone for a team one, with him included.

. . .

Prompt

Hotch: My team let me tell you about my team.

. . .

Derek walked through the door and dumped his things down, not needing to call Clooney as he was hit by the long haired Alsatian running at him full pelt.

"Down Boy," he grumbled as the large dog's paws landed on his broad chest.

Stalking through the house he went through the side door to his garage and collected the necessary tools and equipment.

"Come on," he called to the dog, which had followed him out.

Shooting straight back out the front door and loading everything into his SUV, Derek paused while Clooney bounding in alongside the stuff he had placed in the back. There was no time like the present he thought as he left to start on his latest project.

Bricks and mortar were solid – the one thing he could trust when he felt like this.

. . .

Spencer sat down at his desk opening the journal he had been instructed to keep. It was to help him deal with each day as it came, he wasn't long into recovery but it had started to feel good. Good to be free.

Glancing through the pages that he had scribbled along every step of the journey, it had been hard. It continued to be hard. Dilaudid could make all this disappear, make the demons go away. It was that easy. Though Spencer knew he could not take the easy route any longer – to do so would finish him.

Picking up his pen, Spencer began to write, letting his mind flow freely onto the page. With each word that tumbled into the book he felt his inner strength returning. His foundations more secure.

Spencer knew he was down, it wasn't the first time he had picked himself up off the floor. It wasn't the first time in his life he had been vulnerable to attack, the difference was this time he had support to build himself back up. There were others who cared, others who wanted him to do well.

Closing the book he knew he was repairing the damage one day at a time.

. . .

Emily sat at her desk, the only light coming from her desk lamp as the rest of the room was in darkness. Head down she worked, long into the night. Somehow it was easier.

As tiredness washed over her she stood to get herself another drink. She had to keep going, it was the only way. She couldn't go home, not until she was ready to drop. Anything else and she would be free to think and right now she didn't want to do that.

She didn't want to consider what she had been told. She had fought hard to make it to the BAU; she desperately wanted to be part of the team and would do anything to prove that.

But this . . . what she had been 'offered'. That would shatter everything she had established, just as she was starting to feel she was making headway. If anyone else knew about her little chat with Strauss then they would hate her – no matter how hard she worked.

. . .

JJ climbed into bed; no matter how weary she was she knew it would hours before she finally found peace. Between fighting the images of the day and trying to ignore her imagination's interpretation of the file she had presented to Hotch before leaving JJ knew rest was a precious commodity in her life now.

Pulling the soft blanket up to her chin she stared at the blank ceiling as she considered the file she had selected to pass on, and more importantly those that still resided on her desk, waiting to see if they made it through to the next stage or got divided up between the team for feedback to the force they came from.

Listening to the banging music coming from the apartment above, JJ closed her eyes as she tried to drift off. She could go up and complain, but she knew silence was worse. Silence and darkness bread fear, and wasn't an additional element she needed right now. Guilt alone was enough.

Feeling the tiredness wash over her, JJ did little to fight it. She needed this as much as the other members of her team, yet somehow she knew each was struggling as much as she was tonight.

. . .

Penelope gathered her things as the screens around her flickered as they went through the process of shutting down. Standing, putting random things in her purse, disposing of some candy wrappers and gathering up an empty mug or two she knocked one of her precious troll dolls over. Picking it up and fluffing its lime green hair she placed back where it belonged. As each screen became blank, one after another, Penelope smiled. She smiled not because she was happy, but because she had to.

If she lost the ability to smile, then she lost herself, her essence. Penelope was a happy person by nature. That didn't mean she was some idealistic individual who ignored the reality of life. No she saw a reality that most people were lucky enough to be able to ignore. She saw the worse that humankind was capable of, she trawled through the depths of people's lives, she found secrets, unearthed the truth and all within the confines of these four walls.

Yet when it was finished, when evil was stopped and her heroes had saved the day. She smiled.

. . .

Closing the book he rested back in his leather office chair. Pinching his nose to ward of the headache that had already settled in for the night, Jason Gideon closed his eyes.

Resting his elbows on the arms of his chair, his fingers laced together as he remained silent in the solitude of his dull cluttered office. An office that closely resembled the frantic inner workings of his mind – one that housed a multitude of memories, good and bad. A mind so full of chaos that when clarity hit it was profound and consuming. Nothing could distract, once a footpath out of the wilderness could be seen.

But right now there was no path, no guiding light to help him through the fog. The pain, combined with the guilt and grief overwhelmed all that could possibly save him this time. With each fail he slipped further into the abyss, and this time had left him dangling on the brink of the final drop.

This wasn't a career, or just a job. He lived a breathed the BAU. It was his life and it was days like today that he had no doubt it would be his death too – unless he found a way out.

. . .

Aaron was a good profiler, hell he was more than a good profiler, he was excellent and he knew it. Not in a big headed arrogant sort of way but in the same way he had approached everything he had ever done in his life. Aaron put 110% into everything he did. He was determined he'd succeed at everything he did, from childhood onwards.

He didn't accept failure; he didn't act without considering the actions first. His life and everything in it was controlled and precise. Chaos led to mistakes. And mistakes led to failure.

Taking a sip of the burning amber liquid, he let it bring life back to his stoic form. It was easy for him to profile those around him. However turning that same insight onto himself – that was something he tried to avoid.

Yet on a day like today that luxury was not available. He had to know he was right and he had to be ready to defend his actions and those of his team. The gauntlet had been thrown down and he wasn't about to walk away from the challenge.

Especially when he knew he was right.

. . .

Erin returned to the seat behind her large desk. She placed the refreshed crystal tumbler down on her blotter and twisted it slowing as she contemplated the day. Again the anger built in her as she considered the words that Aaron had spouted. How dare he profile her!

And how dare he be right!

She reached for the photo of her son, it had been taken several years ago and she really should update it, she should update them all as the girls' photos were even older. She traced a finger down younger David's picture; he definitely was her pride and joy. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with the girls; they were both strong and independent – just as she wished them to be.

But Davy, he would become something; she would make sure of that.

Placing the photo back with the others, she turned and swiped the tumbler up from the desk top downing the contents in one.

With fresh determination she closed the personnel file of Aaron Hotchner, and swore to herself that she would finish him. With Prentiss' help or on her own he would be leaving the BAU – of that she was now certain.

. . .

Know your enemy and know yourself and you can fight a hundred battles without disaster.
Sun Tzu, ancient Chinese military general