Memoir
Chapter 7: In the Public Eye
As a general rule, JJ wasn't really superstitious. It wasn't about having irrational fears; it was the whole 'step on a crack'-'black cat'-'walking under a ladder' thing that she didn't believe in. But she wasn't an idiot. So when she woke with a disgusting feeling of dread in her stomach, she was immediately on edge. These feelings didn't come often, but her history with the BAU told her it would be stupid to ignore them.
So, despite the fact that Emily would probably strangle her – sleep was a precious commodity on cases, especially for people like Emily, who couldn't shut her brain down at the best of times – JJ knew she needed to tell someone, talk to someone. She made quick work of getting ready for the day and headed for Emily's room.
JJ and Emily were much closer than JJ and Elle had ever been; too much time together had seen to that. But, more importantly, Emily didn't hesitate to care. JJ appreciated that and appreciated having someone to talk to who she knew wouldn't judge. Like moments like this. There was no reason for JJ to seriously believe her gut, but Emily would listen, would let JJ rant and regardless of whether Emily said anything to calm her down, JJ would feel better simply for having an ear to listen. It didn't make JJ any weaker than the profilers, but it was a slightly different dynamic.
But when JJ knocked on Emily's door, there was no answer. It was more confusing than concerning – after all, they'd already established that their UNSUB had a very specific target of people – and JJ tried Emily's phone next. When the dark-haired woman didn't answer, JJ went looking. What she found was something she had not anticipated.
When she first stepped into the hotel lobby, it was to ask the front desk if they'd seen Emily. Before she could, she caught sight of two very familiar bodies, dead asleep. JJ was surprised, to be honest, that the movements of the lobby hadn't woken either of them. Even more shocking, however, was the way they were intertwined on the small sofa. Emily's head rested on Hotch's shoulder, her hand balled in his very wrinkled dress shirt. Hotch, more surprisingly, had an arm wrapped around Emily's back, his hand splayed wide, almost possessively, on Emily's hip.
As she got closer, JJ shook her head affectionately at the files spread out in front of them. Quite obviously, they'd been working late, and JJ found herself wondering if all of the times she'd left Emily and Hotch in the office, it was less about work and more about… Well, there had to be an explanation for why they seemed so comfortable sleeping in such close quarters, right? Still, she knew they couldn't be caught like this, let alone the files spread everywhere so she didn't bother to be quiet as she shuffled pictures and notes into their respective files. She even, less than accidentally, kicked Emily in the process. The agent jerked awake, and JJ bit down, hard, on her lower lip to keep the laughter at bay. Especially since Emily's jolt had rammed her elbow into Hotch's kidney.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully, choosing to simply keep filing things away. They didn't need her watching, at least not at the moment.
Because JJ couldn't fault them for finding comfort in each other. They worked a stressful job, and as much of a cliché as that was, it was also the bare bones truth.
"Morning, Jayje," Emily greeted, watching the blond pack up files. Had they really fallen asleep together? In the lobby of the hotel they stayed in? In New York? Good gracious, they were losing it. And now JJ had caught them. Thank God it had been JJ and not someone like Morgan.
JJ couldn't help herself. "Sleep well?" She finally faced them and bit her cheek, hard, against the smile that wanted to bloom. She had no idea Hotch's cheeks could turn that colour.
Emily's eyes narrowed. "Yes, thanks."
JJ knew a rebuke from her friend when she heard it. Still, she was highly amused by the development. "Excellent." Then her stomach churned. She grimaced. Emily looked immediately worried.
Hotch, intuitive as he was in combination with too long on the job, seemed to take that as his cue. With a curt nod of acknowledgement he headed off. Both women waited until he was out of sight before speaking.
"What's wrong?"
"It's about time!"
Emily's eyes widened. "What?"
JJ latched on, both because she wasn't sure she wanted to talk about the dread in her stomach and because this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. "You're kidding, right? You want me to stand here and pretend that you falling asleep on Hotch's shoulder doesn't mean a damned thing?"
"Um… Yes? Because it doesn't?"
JJ just barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Usually, I would believe you." But she needed a break, something to deal with the dread and something to distract them both from the brutality they'd been facing. Well, that and it was too good of an opportunity for her to pass up. The team, Emily and Penelope specifically, had given her hell over hiding her relationship with Will, after all. This was just a sort of… payback.
"We're not…" Emily sighed, "We're friends. That's all."
Emily's tone made JJ reconsider her plan of attack. She softened immediately. "Is that all you want?"
The question was met with another sigh, this one much heavier. "I don't know," Emily admitted. "I don't want to push him, you know?" Both women were talking in low voices as they organized the files. "Between the divorce and Jack and Foyet…That's a lot to handle."
JJ considered her next move carefully. "You know," she said, all feigned nonchalance. "Maybe he's handling it because of you."
"What?"
"Well, think about it," JJ said, straightening. "This is Hotch we're talking about. He's cranky. We also know his family means everything to him."
Emily waited.
"I just think that he could be a lot worse," JJ shrugged. "I've seen him be a lot worse. So why is he not reacting the same way?"
"You think it's because of me."
"I think it's not a far stretch to say that you've managed to find some way to balance him," the blond replied diplomatically. "Plus, remember New Years? Remind me again which one of us that convinced Hotch a party wasn't a bad thing?"
Emily blushed slightly. "That was different. He never takes a break."
"I won't argue the obvious," JJ said with a little laugh. "And I'm not saying you should… jump his bones. But… if something did happen in your off hours, it would be none of our business."
"Joyje, there are fraternization policies and-" Emily argued.
"And it would be none of our business." She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Em, you know this team. If you're both happy do you think we're going to say a word to anyone?" She pushed on when Emily went to protest. "And it's a bit hypocritical, don't you think? You've been subtly pushing Detective Beckett and her shadow, dropping hints at how good it is that they have each other, but you're not willing to take the risk yourself."
"There's extenuating circumstances," Emily argued. "Like his son. Like Foyet."
"Foyet's dead."
"But he's not gone."
JJ was surprised at both the naked honesty and undertone of vulnerability in Emily's voice but kept her mouth shut as the brunette ran a hand through her hair. "He's haunted by it, JJ. He… He won't let himself open up. He won't let himself get to a point where family can be taken away again, where things he loves…"
And yet, JJ could tell that it didn't stop Emily. The woman had a poker face that would make professionals flinch, but they were also close friends. Very close friends. Not only did JJ know that was as good of a confession as she was getting out of Emily for the time being, but it was enough.
"You're not Haley," JJ said quietly, strongly. "You can take care of yourself. He doesn't have to hide those fears from you." She shrugged, sliding the last page back into its file. "Maybe it's time you showed him that."
Rick woke to a tired ache that spread through his body and sunlight that streamed through the window. He couldn't help but admit to himself that during this case, it was easier to sleep when he knew she was sleeping too – and not on the precinct's couch, either. Still, the case was draining all of them. He didn't think any amount of sleep would help any of them until this guy was caught and locked away. Rick's eyes found the clock. It was only half past six. Alexis should only just be waking up.
The house was silent as he pulled on his clothes, scrubbing at his face until he looked presentable. Pausing at Alexis' door, he noticed that his daughter's bed was already made and her bag was gone from its place next to her desk.
He'd known the house was too silent.
Descending the stairs only brought more of the same. He'd almost become used to Kate's habit of cooking breakfast whenever she slept here. Disappointment rang sharp in his stomach as he realized he'd been expecting her to still be there. Rick tapped his fingers against the counter and leaned against it. If he'd woken up a bit earlier, he could have stopped her from rushing in. with the way she'd sounded last night, he was hoping she would stay for breakfast, that maybe he could hold the day at arm's length for twenty more minutes.
He swallowed, eyes falling to a note that looked like it was in her handwriting.
Got an early start. Didn't want to wake you.
Alexis was getting ready to go in early. I hope you don't mind, I took her into school instead of having her catch a ride. Was heading that way anyway.
I'll be at the precinct when you're ready to head in. Will call if anything changes.
Kate
Rick sighed, watching the note as if it would change something. If she'd brought in Alexis to school for early period, then she couldn't have left more than forty five minutes ago. He'd missed her by that much. Grinding his teeth, Rick looked through the fridge for a moment before finding he wasn't hungry. The bowls from the muffins he'd made with Alexis and the ice cream he'd shared with Kate last night were still in the sink.
He left them there.
After quickly checking his cell to make sure Kate hadn't called with a new body, Rick headed for the door with plans to grab her a coffee and a bear claw at a nearby bakery – plans that were changed as soon as he stepped outside.
It was like being blinded.
"Richard Castle, can you tell us about your budding romance with Nikki Heat inspiration Kate Beckett, detective on the string of seemingly related murders in our city?" One of the women holding a microphone at him buzzed, blue eyes wide with excitement.
"There's no romance between Detective Beckett and myself." He said, and thought he could see the spark of anger in the woman's blue eyes. He hadn't answered the question the way she'd wanted him to. "We're partners. We're friends. That's all."
There had only been one or two times a reporter had dared to harass him in front of his house. The last time it had happened, it was a slightly insane Derrick Storm fan who hadn't been a fan of his decisions to end the series.
He'd battled reporters before. With the fame that his writing had brought him, and the added fame that had come with the Nikki Heat stories, he'd had to learn quickly to deal with unwanted (and sometimes wanted) attention.
And as much as he wanted to – as much as he wished he could say in every honest sense of the words that he and Detective Katherine Beckett were seeing each other – as much as he wanted it to be true, he couldn't say it even if it was.
"Is it true she's been staying here nightly?" A woman who pushed through the five or six reporters asked, holding out another microphone. "Can you verify that?"
Rick was tired. He wasn't in the mood for answering their questions even if he'd had something to say to them. He wanted to get to the precinct, not deal with reporters that weren't even asking questions that pertained to the case.
"I have no comment," He said, trying to make his way towards the car.
Another reporter, this one a man, hovered on Rick's other side. "Can we get a comment from the woman herself?"
And something inside him snapped. Something that had, perhaps, been holding on by a thread.
"Kate-" The name slipped from his mouth without his noticing, "-is the lead Detective on an ongoing case. Bothering her for something as trivial as this would be a foolish mistake." He swallowed after the words left his mouth, wishing he could take them back and think over his answer.
"You seem to be protective over her," The blue eyed woman asked again. Rick's eyes flew to her. "Are you sure you're not seeing each other?"
"If by seeing," He practically growled, "You mean working together to catch a killer? That is what we do."
"Come on, Mister Castle," another reporter cajoled. "You know exactly what we're asking."
Rick spun. "Look, harassing me is one thing. I asked for it. Leave her out of this unless it's related to the case or I swear to God, you'll never get another word from me. Ever."
He knew there was going to be damage control to be done for losing his temper, both with Kate and the FBI. He could feel it in his stomach as he shoved past them and made his way towards his car, ignoring the questions that they called after him.
The coffee and bear claw were long forgotten.
"We might have another lead."
Every head in the conference room shot up at Emily's carefully worded phrase. They'd been taking five freaking minutes to eat before Emily had spoken. Not that anyone blamed her. Any lead was, admittedly, a high point.
"Hotch and I were looking over the pictures last night," she went on, wiping her mouth with her nearby napkin. "And we think we may have a lead on his motive."
"Other than he's crazy?" Detective Esposito asked, light enough to get a couple of lip-twitches. The mood in the room was surprisingly dark, even for the subject matter. Castle wasn't cracking his usual one-liners that Emily had come to expect. Beckett, though slightly more refreshed, was picking at her bagel more than eating it and even Reid looked seconds from face-planting in his breakfast. God, they needed this case done weeks ago.
She darted a glance to Hotch who nodded once, quickly. She could take point. "We already know the pictures show a violence streak and a dangerous one. Initially we'd thought it was spilling their guts."
"Poetic," Castle spoke up. Beckett hit him for the interruption and Emily watched a corner of his mouth twitch up. Something was, apparently, at least close to normal with them. Could they be more obvious?
"But," Emily allowed, "we haven't been able to do much with that."
Beckett's eyes went wide. "He hates their guts."
Emily couldn't stop the grin. This was why she liked the detective so much. Half of the work was done before it even came out of the mouths of the FBI. Sometimes she wondered if they really needed the BAU to be here when they had whip-smart detectives. Of course, it was usually squashed when Emily considered the BAU's specialized training and the added resources of having them around.
"That's what we're thinking," Emily agreed with a nod.
JJ swallowed thickly. Her adrenaline was pumping, both because she knew she had a press conference in an hour – and she was crossing her fingers it was a smooth one – and because the thrill of a new lead was like icing on a cupcake. "Have you called Garcia?"
"By the time we put it together we figured it was too late." Because despite the fact that Garcia was an insomniac, Emily often held off from adding to the tech's ever-growing work when it was late. Now, however, there was no excuse.
"Good morning Superheroes!" Garcia's cheerful voice floated over the line. "Welcome to another edition of Cross-Reference Mania! Our first contestant-"
"Garcia," Morgan interrupted before she could really get going. "We may have something."
"Intrigue. I'm a fan. What's up?"
"Can you get us a list of people from that class? Phone numbers, addresses, everything?" Emily asked.
Garcia's whistle came loud over the line. "That's a lotta names."
"Yeah, well one of them had to know our UNSUB," Emily replied as Garcia's fingers clicked away. "Someone was his friend or at least knew who he was, and, more importantly, that he hated our victims."
"Mmm, backdoor entrance, sneaky," Garcia responded, with enough of a drawl to her tone that the room knew she was half listening, but mostly working.
"Send it to the NYPD addresses too, Garcia," Hotch said. "We'll divide and conquer."
"Boss Man! Modern reference! I'm impressed." Before Hotch could even scowl, she was barreling on. "Phone numbers and addresses on their way now, as is the collection of information I could gather on our victims. Including a rather friendly yearbook photo of Miss Annie Bryers along with our now-deceased victims."
"Favourite teacher?" Morgan asked.
"Can't think of another reason you'd take a picture with a teacher," Garcia responded. "You know where I am if you need me!"
"Thanks, Garcia," Emily managed to get in before the click.
Hotch seamlessly took control. "JJ, Rossi and I will handle the press conference with you. The rest of you, divide those names."
There was a flurry of movement as every one packed up food and coffee before heading out of the room. But there was no excited chatter, barely even a smile, and a lot of heavy shoulders. Emily watched Castle gently grip Beckett's elbow as he all but escorted her out of the room a smile flitting over the corners of her mouth.
"What is it?"
She glanced at Hotch briefly. Personal discussions were still a massive grey area when they were on the job. It had been just under a year since Foyet had stolen Haley and in many ways, Hotch was still trying to battle it out alone. What Emily was thinking was definitely reflective of his own life.
"Prentiss?"
She wouldn't meet his eyes when she spoke, focusing instead on the files and papers in front of her. "I was just thinking about how lucky Detective Beckett is to have Castle around."
"Oh?"
"This is breaking Detective Beckett," Emily said quietly. "We have no leads with this new body, most of our own leads went out the window and we have families that need, want and deserve answers." She shrugged slightly. "He's been good for her." She continued to search through the files, unwilling to meet his eyes or to even glance at him.
He waited a few moments before saying, "She's not alone."
Emily nodded once, shortly. "Exactly."
There was another moment of silence. "He's in love with her."
"She's in love with him," Emily related with a snort of amusement. "Or at least very deep in like."
For the third time, they lapsed into silence. Again, he was the one to break it.
"I know I'm not alone," Hotch said quietly.
Emily's head shot up. "Hotch, I wasn't –"
He shook his head, stalling her. "It's okay."
"Look," she said, ignoring how easy he was about to let her off the hook. "We… We're used to seeing this stuff. But regular officers aren't. So, Detective Beckett, no matter how strong she is, is lucky to have Castle around." She shrugged. "That's all I wanted to say."
Hotch watched her leave, settle in beside Reid at the spare desk across from Beckett and felt something lift in his chest. She cared so much for everyone around her and to Hotch, subordinate or not, it was difficult not to feel a warmth in his chest. Hotch knew she took care of him, watched out for him, made sure he was eating, taking a break. And, more importantly, he knew that it was a heavy burden. He wasn't an easy man and yet, he couldn't shake Emily.
He wondered, just for a split second, if he even wanted to.
JJ was a pro at handling the press. So when she'd seen that morning's favourite soundbite – Castle snapping at the press and shifting the attention away from the case and towards the non-relationship – she'd known it was going to take some of her best skills. She was expecting it before she stepped behind the podium, eyes towards the camera, hair pulled back in a bun and crowd anxious before her. Nothing could have prepared her for just how bad it would get.
"Is the FBI certain there's a serial killer in New York City? Are there any leads?"
"We're working several leads," JJ said, fingers resting lightly on the podium, trying to appear relaxed and professional at the same time. Security was what she needed to bring to the city today. Security and answers she knew they didn't have yet. "At this point in the investigation, the FBI and NYPD are calling our Unknown Subject a serial killer due to the amount of victims and pattern."
There were days when she loved her job – she was a natural at it, the push and pull of controlling a crowd hungry for information. She wasn't a profiler. JJ couldn't tell what the twitch of an eye meant in an interrogation, but she knew people as well as her team did – in a different way.
And then there were days that she hated her job, days when she couldn't control the push and pull of a crowd and it became an entity unto itself. It was growing now, everyone with a hand up at once. Nobody showed remorse. It was all about the story, but with the viciousness of these killings, she'd held out hope that something would be different.
There was a familiar hand in the crowd, a face she knew from the last time they'd done a case in New York City. She nodded towards the reporter.
"How can the people of New York keep safe?"
"All the regular rules apply," She said, grateful for a question she'd actually prepared herself for despite the agitated state of the crowd. "Don't walk alone, walk with people you know. If you think you see something suspicious, there's a hotline you can call."
The next question she accepted came from a new reporter, whose voice was a bit too loud and eyes a bit too vibrant.
"Has the FBI come here to take the case from NYPD?"
Ah. That question was a familiar one. It wasn't a press conference without those familiar words. The reputation that the FBI had gave them problems wherever they went.
"No," She told him. "The Behavioral Analysis Unit is here to assist the NYPD, not take the credit from the brilliant detectives we are working with. Our job is to help them catch their Unknown Subject, or UNSUB, as quickly as possible."
She could see just how hard Detective Beckett was working to keep herself sane during this case. Most homicide detectives never saw a serial killer in their careers. Beckett was dealing with one of the most violent, vicious men JJ had ever seen. There was no need to be a profiler to see that their UNSUB was harboring a lot of anger – and that it was taking a toll on everyone involved.
JJ also didn't need to be a profiler to see how good Richard Castle was for the NYPD detective. When he was around, she smiled. During this case, that was a good thing – and practically all they could ask for. JJ had learned over the years that when somebody made you smile even though you were faced with something so vile most people would run away screaming, you held on to that. You didn't let it go for anything.
"Can you tell us about Detective Beckett, the lead detective on this case?"
She hated questions like this, even though she'd dealt with them before. It always felt wrong to talk about one of the detectives they were working with when they weren't there, but she knew there was no way to back out of a question without making it look as though something were wrong.
"She's an extremely competent detective," She began. "The work that she and the rest of the detectives at the 12th precinct have done has helped along this case immensely."
It was easy to respect Detective Beckett, whose tenacity allowed her to hold her own even though this was a situation most homicide detectives never encountered in their careers. Serial killers were one thing, but this UNSUB was unlike anything they'd seen before. For Detective Beckett to be holding strong … JJ knew it had to be thanks at least in part to Richard Castle. Whenever JJ had seen her laugh or smile, it had always been around him.
But unlike Emily, JJ saw something else. She saw that the same thing was happening for one of her best friends and Hotch. And, honestly? Even though they were the two singular most stubborn people JJ had met, she was still surprised that they had taken this long. Not that what she'd seen between them earlier that morning amounted to either of them admitting anything, but it was a start. Even though they had obstacles to overcome that were bigger than any she and Will had ever had to look at, JJ thought they were sweet. She could see it. And Jack seemed to like her, which JJ knew was important just from being a mother. It was always Emily that Jack ran to first when he came into the office.
Maybe, she thought, their team was going to be alright after all, despite the year they'd been through.
"What about her relationship with Richard Castle?"
And that was the question she'd been expecting, right from the beginning. She'd been warned, by both Castle and Beckett that there was likely to be questions. And, of course, she'd heard about Castle's outburst that morning. Hell, she'd watched it, just to make sure she knew what was coming.
"He continues to consult on the case, as I understand he has done for the last few years," JJ replied carefully.
"She was seen coming out of his building this morning, can you comment?"
JJ felt her temper rise. It was a side-effect of dealing with these types of people and the fact that even their leads seemed tied in knots. They were stressed, tired, the usual mantra and collection of issues that made tempers short. She allowed herself one squeeze of the podium. "I am not here to play gossip," she replied, face solemn, voice stern. "Anything that is happening between Detective Beckett and Richard Castle is none of my concern."
"Come on, Agent Jareau. It's the perfect spin on this story."
"A serial killer should be 'spin' enough," she snapped back. "There is someone out there killing people. That's where your focus should be, not on prying into the private lives of the people who have to face it."
She saw a twitch out of the corner of her eye and knew it was Hotch. She took a very long, slow breath. It would do them no good if she lost her temper too. "So, if there are any questions pertaining to the case I would be happy to answer them. The nature of the relationship between Detective Beckett and Mr. Castle is their business, not ours and as such as no baring on the work we're doing."
"He's a celebrity," a reporter called out. "The public wants to know."
Yeah, and I want to know if any of you have a brain cell that's worth this discussion, JJ thought to herself. "Then the public can ask his representatives for comment."
"But you're taking advantage of it," someone else called out. "Aren't you? The case is getting so much attention because Richard Castle and his muse are working it."
Oh. Oh, no. Seriously? JJ reached down and pinched her thigh. "Considering the violent nature of these crimes I find that extremely hard to believe. This case is getting attention because people are dying. Violently. Brutally. And with no respect to them as people. The increasing violence tells us that he's devolving." JJ sucked in a breath, because though she usually wasn't one for scare tactics and it was likely she was going to be in the hotseat for this, she needed the attention on the case. "Serial killers that devolve aren't as focused on their mission and their motive."
"You're saying he could go on a rampage."
"I'm saying that it is imperative that we find and arrest him before he kills again." But then Emily was stepping up behind her and JJ knew it was too late.
He'd killed again.
I don't think we have to explain how late this is to you? We, as always, love that you guys are being so patient with us while we work through this.
Thanks for reading!
