Disclaimer: don't own
He was a psychiatrist; he knew about guilt and blame. He also knew about how easily those emotions could eat anyone alive. Yet, psychiatry was what had led him to those feelings of guilt.
George knew that he was one of the best profilers the FBI had. He didn't let it go to his head, but the fact was there. He had been chosen to set up VI-CAP in New York. He had accomplished the nearly impossible task of gaining the trust of the Special Victims Unit. He rarely missed a profile.
Perhaps the last two facts were what made it so hard to accept when he finally did fail. Sophie Gerard had been in a psychosis; he had recommended making the death of her child real for her by bringing her to the morgue.
And then she's snapped, taking several people hostage and shooting ME Warner. He had done what he'd thought was right; but it had gotten one of his closest friends shot. He couldn't help but feel like there was blood on his hands; he couldn't help but feel like he was responsible.
"Are you really going to forget all the good profiles you gave us because of this one incident?" Detective Olivia Benson asks as she walks into his office.
"It's not as simple as that. I know what my skills are, but it doesn't make failure any easier to accept." George counters.
"Well, I'm a cop and my job is to protect people. Does that mean it was my fault, because I was in the room and I didn't get the gun away from her in time?"
"No, Olivia."
"You missed ONE profile, George." Olivia says. George sighs.
"I know, and I hate that one of the first errors I've made in a long time resulted in someone almost getting killed."
"You should visit her." Olivia says softly.
"I will, I just..."
"I'll go with you." Olivia offers. George pauses.
"I'll just go. It's ok." He says.
"See you later." Olivia says with a smile. She walks away. George finishes his files and then drive to the hospital.
"Hi, Melinda." He says as he walks in the room.
"You do exist!" Melinda jokes. George smiles.
"Work piled up. Sorry." George says. Melinda shakes her head.
"I know you better than that. You're guilty."
"All right, I am."
"It really wasn't your fault, but I can see nothing will change your mind about that. So I'll just tell you that every other profiler in New York would have said the same thing." George nods.
"I suppose."
"Where's Liv?" Melinda asks, changing the subject.
"At the station."
"She'll be there a while, huh?"
"Yeah." George says as he gives her a knowing look. A nurse comes in and informs him that visiting hours are over. He sighs and stands up.
"See you, George." Melinda says. "And thanks."
"No problem. And thank you." He says, walking out the door.
Maybe he'll never get rid of the feeling of failure; maybe he'll never accept that he's only human. But he knows, at least, that the others don't blame him, and that's a start.
