Author's Note: For at least the last three or four seasons I haven't been able to keep up with the show the way I would like to, and that may be a factor in the difficulty I am having in getting my stories updated. I recently found the file I had stored the notes to my stories in. I have notes in there from all the stories I am currently working on. While looking through them trying to inspire myself for my next update, I discovered two complete one shot stories I had forgotten about, as well as notes for a few more stories and one shots I had planned to write in the future.

These stories are written in longhand on notebook paper, like most of my stories start out, and were originally written at least three or four years ago. I have decided to post them the way they were originally written, despite the changes on 'Criminal Minds' since they were created. Keep in mind what has happened on the show the last few seasons is not reflected in these stories.

Disclaimer: See my profile.

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'Questions'

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One more case was one too many...

What happens when you get burned out? What happens when you have had enough? I knew this job would be difficult; after all, how could it not be difficult? I am a profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and I am tired.

It is not a physical tiredness as much as it is a mental and emotional one that carries over into the physical. Most people do not realize how draining this type of work is mentally. Most agents and police officers seem to handle the stress well, at least outwardly; some even appear to be unaffected by the brutality that often surrounds them. However, the outward calmness is a facade; a mechanism for dealing with the terrible things we see on an almost daily basis. We know we have to care or we become jaded; however, at the same time we need to appear calm and unaffected. Even the fact we appear unaffected can work against us because it often causes people to assume we simply do not care. Trust me when I say this...we care! Sometimes we care too much, sometimes looking at the victims and seeing the pain their family and friends are going through is just too much.

I always hoped I would realize when I had arrived at the point of burnout; that I would know when I had had enough. I told myself a long time ago when I arrived at that point it would be time to quit. Would I realize it? Would I know what to do? Would I pull a Gideon and disappear without a word, leaving only a letter behind by way of explanation? Would I even be able to explain myself? Most importantly, to me at least, would anyone else understand?

As I think about it, I realize that yes, they would understand. My fellow team members have been there also; therefore, of course they would understand. However, maybe they would expect more in the way of explanation from me.

Why am I even thinking about this? Was this latest case any more difficult or heartbreaking than any other case? Truthfully, no, it was not. In fact, it was probably less so than many of the cases we have been called in on recently. So why am I so bothered by it? It is not simply this one case, it is because it is one too many cases. I have finally had enough, and I no longer believe I can handle this job.

So, what do I do? What do I say? How do I deal with this? The F.B.I. has resources available to assist those who are having difficulty dealing with the job; however, I have been reluctant to utilize those resources. I believe I see it as a sign of weakness, asking for help. I do not want my fellow team members to ever see me as weak. I am not weak! I have been afraid in my life, even terrified, and I may have had moments of weakness, but I would not like for others to perceive me as being weak.

I can feel the eyes of one of my team members on me now. I look up at him, and then quickly look down again. Can he see how tired I am? He is probably just as tired as I feel; however, he does not show it as readily as I do at this point in time.

I am going to lean my head back, close my eyes, and attempt to sleep. If I can rest perhaps my outlook will have improved when I wake up. But if it has not? What do I do then? I will just have to cross that bridge when I come to it, I tell myself. I can hear the voices of some of my team members around me quietly talking so as to not disturb the rest of us who are trying to sleep. Within a few minutes I can feel myself drifting off to sleep.

XX

"Why?" Garcia asked, tears welling in her big eyes. "He didn't even say goodbye."

"He will someday," Rossi told her.

"I don't understand," Prentiss said. "He never gave us any indication things were bothering him that much."

"He works with profilers and none of us could tell he was on the verge of quitting?" JJ asked.

"All I can tell you is what his letter of resignation said," Hotch told the group.

"Yes, the letter of resignation he put on your desk so no one would know about it until the next day," Morgan grumbled.

"He didn't want any of us to try and talk him out of it," Hotch said.

"Give him time Morgan," Rossi said.

"Give him time? Why didn't he come and talk to me if he was having problems?"

Hotch sighed. "Morgan, he wasn't ready to talk about it, even to his best friend."

Garcia stood up. "Well, I am going over to his apartment as soon as I get off work today."

"I'll go with you," JJ said.

"Me too," Prentiss added.

"Count me in," Morgan told them.

It was Rossi's turn to sigh. "Guys, he won't be there."

"What do you mean?" Garcia asked.

Rossi looked at Hotch. "He's gone looking for Gideon. He said he needed to talk to him."

"Gideon?" Morgan demanded. "Why? What for?"

"Just because Morgan," Hotch said. "Now, I know we're all upset, but we have work to do, so everyone just get on with it." He watched as the other members of his team reluctantly left the conference room and went back to their desks. Rossi shrugged and headed for his own office as Hotch sat down in his chair and picked up Reid's letter to read it for at least the tenth time.

XX

I feel free now. I am sorry I left my team so abruptly, but I think I had to do what I did when I did. I am headed on a cross country trip to Colorado. I am driving in the hope time spent on the road will help to clear my head and give me some perspective. I know I cannot just show up on Gideon's doorstep, so I call him; not sure how he will react. He is not surprised to hear from me, and tells me to come. He gives me the impression he is surprised it took me so long to contact him. Maybe spending time with Gideon will help; however, if it does not help, I will just have to find something else to do with the rest of my life. At the very least the two of us can clear the air between us.

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