CONSEQUENCES FALLING 10
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Chapter 16
BAU conference room BAU Conference room 2142hrs
"So why are you in Quantico anyway?" Prentiss finally asked the smirking Brit when Morgan had calmed the emotional Technical diva down.
Mick Rawson's keen gaze took in the stress and hidden sadness in the beautiful profiler. And he wished that he had been a little more compassionate when she had called earlier...but being lied to by those he cared about was a real hot button with him.
Probably, he mused, a psychological trigger from too many Black ops.
"I was in DC giving a deposition to the AUSA over at the Hoover building. Thought I'd have time for a sleep, maybe a beer n a burger before I had to fly. But this little detour squashed that idea. Any suggestions?" he asked staring intently into Prentiss' dark eyes.
"Oh for Gods sake! Is anyone in this section even remotely familiar with the fraternisation policy of the FBI?" Carentine stated gruffly, but his eyes shone with amusement.
"I DO," Rossi assured him getting to his feet. "I get them thrown at me on an almost daily basis. You know ~ Its all your fault Rossi~ etcetera"
He moved over to the coffee-maker and poured the last cup out of the carafe.
"Truthfully you cant blame them for that. You are a Dog Rossi. A very Rich arrogant Dog true. But still a flea ridden canine." Carentine laughed at the grumpy man. Truly Rossi had been an utter menace when he was a younger agent. It was a wonder some irate father,brother or boyfriend hadn't shot the profiler stone dead before now.
"Gee nice to know what your friends think of you" Rossi sarcastically bowed in Carentine direction. Which set off the room's gigglers.
"Well if there are no more bombs to be dropped tonight.?...good. Then this old Dog wants to be off to his De Luxe Kennel. "Rossi informed the room gruffly
"Good idea. 1100Am start people. Barring any call outs of course." Hotch informed the agents, while still running through the pieces of the nights show.
And profiling just what might be coming soon.
Obviously Spencer was up to something. And just as obviously Garcia knew what it was. But was being cagey with the information.
Why? What would an irate genius/profiler do?
and really what was going on with JJ?
The sarcastic comments and nippy attitude where so far from the woman he had worked with before.
So far only himself and Rossi had been spared being the focus of her negativity.
Him. He understood he was her boss. But then again Morgan, Prentiss and even Reid were her superiors in the BAU hierarchy and shed pissed them all off.
Rossi- he would shut her down so fast her hair would curl. And she wouldn't want his weight against her. Which was considerable.
"HOTCH!"
"Sorry Morgan. Going through paperwork and schedules in my head. I am fine. Get out of here" Hotch ordered firmly. They were all exhausted by the cases and all the extras.
"I can take some of the files..." JJ began with a warm smile. One that Hotch hadn't seen in months.
"That will not be necessary Agent Jareau. Go Home all of you. Paperwork can wait till tomorrow." Carentine ordered with the kind of finality that no one would dare question.
"In that case . Sir, Mon Amies. I bid you adieu." Garcia gushed pulling Morgan reluctantly out of the room.
"Sirs." Prentiss followed Garcia out the room with the tall Brit shadowing her.
"She does know that Rawson is nearly as big a dog as you Dave?" Carentine queried, enjoying the chance to annoy the hell out of Rossi.
"Maybe Prentiss has his leash," Rossi responded with a snap. "That said. Buona notte ,gents."
"Sir. Hotch"
JJ followed Rossi reluctantly along the catwalk. Glancing back up to the window when she sat in the bullpen. But with the blinds half shut they obscured the denizens from her gaze. So she packed her bag slowly and waited till the others had departed before walking to the elevator.
"An interesting mix of characters and traits your team has." Carentine mused as he watched Morgan, Garcia, Rawson and Prentiss depart.
"They are some of the finest people I have had the fortune to meet. And are all excellent at their jobs. Sir" Hotch rattled off the rote answer wondering where Carentine was leading.
"No sirs for now Aaron," the older man instructed the younger one.
"Its far too late for all that crap. John's a nice simple name."
Aaron Hotchner was a master at hiding his true emotions.
But it may have been exhaustion, stress, or even worry about Reid. It may have been percentages of all three.
But whatever it was...Hotch looked like the Easter bunny had just ran up to him and hit him square in the head with a 2x4 plank.
"Don't look so shocked Aaron. You don't mind me using your first name?...Look Aaron I am here for Spencer, and because I am pissed off at certain `politically connected` people using my agents as they see fit. With no consequences or sanctions." John explained His voice was quiet but with a ferocious intensity behind each word. John Carentine was pissed off.
"I'm not sure..."
"Please don't act dumb. I am informed that you are normally rather intelligent and eloquent. So here is what I want...I want the Who's, what's and whys of this Ian Doyle farce." Carentine's order was delivered on a hiss.
"Sir. Everything was put in my report. And then of course it was rehashed by the Oversight Committee." Hotch growled at the thought of the political heads on that august group. Not one of them was worth the dust on his teams shoes in his opinion.
Carentine grinned, not a nice open one like he'd offered Garcia.
This was more like a Great White Sharks going in for the kill.
"Hmm Senator Cramer surely pissed off Reid at that session. It also strikes me as odd that his name is mentioned in the case Garcia spoke of.
But back to basics. My involvement was circumvented by other situations coming to crisis point ahead of schedule. Something I think was done deliberately. And yes, your reports do tell me the ABC's of the tale. But I need to know what cant be written down. What your instincts and training told you?
"Sir...John, this action tore my team apart. As I am sure you are aware. We are trying to heal slowly and honestly rehashing this is personally painful."
Hotch snapped. Talking with an outsider; no matter who was not something he had any wish to do.
"I am aware. But...look Aaron I have got to know our Genius pretty well over the years. And I have only ever met one person more bullheadedly stubborn than him. And I married her." Carentine smiting led happily. Yes his Eleanor was a stubborn cuss at times. But she was his friend, lover, anchor. His everything.
Hotch nodded in agreement about Spencer stubborn attitude. And smiled inwardly at the love shining in every word from this powerful man.
"Spencer could come back today. The work would get done, the bad guys would get locked up. But in the end your team would fall apart or implode.
Because there are too many unanswered questions and behind the scenes deals, and they are eating at not only Reid, but at you all."Carentine stated clearly laying out his thoughts. "I haven't spoken to Reid but I think its safe to say that he isn't going to let this be. He needs for this injury to his soul to make sense, for him to be sure that coming back here isn't going to be setting himself up for another betrayal."
"Sir I wasn't in a position to argue with the sanctions that where laid down. I had to get Emily out of danger. And in turn give us a breathing space from Doyle. I never wanted to lie to any of my team, but it was the price that was demanded by the Department of defence" Hotch reiterated yet again.
But now he wondered if the price had been worth it.
Of course he would never regret getting Emily away safely, and finishing their feud with Ian Doyle. But it seemed that the cost of that damn secret kept accumulating interest every bloody day. Not just for him but for them all.
"Did they tell you why they wanted the Team to be ignorant?"
Hotch tiredly shook his head.
"Once we got Emily to the hospital, everything seemed to move so quickly. JJ...Agent Jareau was still at the Pentagon and used her connections there to have her evacuated to Bethesda, and from there to Paris when Prentiss was able to travel." Hotch stared at the conference table, but in his mind he saw that damn waiting room in Boston The teams outpouring of grief, Reid's tears and the JJ telling him that it was done. That the secret had to be kept between them. JJ trying to comfort him, telling him that they would understand in the end. Even though he knew it was a lie.
"I was told that keeping the team out of it was for Prentiss' security and their safety. I argued that they would be an asset in apprehending Doyle but they wouldn't budge on it. JJ tried to talk to her boss too. Emphasising that the team is...was solid and could handle TSI/ and compartmentalise the situation. I was told there was no other way.." he whispered the final sentence.
"It should never have gone down like that Aaron. If I had been aware...but ifs and buts don't mean shit. For future reference however if you want someone safe talk to Reid.."
"They're that good?" Hotch asked, hoping the answer was yes.
"They are that good. And some people I feel are about to learn how well connected they are, and how damn sneaky..." Carentine couldn't hold back the smirk that settled on his worn face.
"Sneaky?"
Carentine stood up and stretched his arms up to click his vertebra.
"bloody torture devices these chairs," he groaned. " Look I am 200% sure that Rossi has a semi-decent malt kicking about in his office. What's say you and I relieve him of a glass or too while I tell you just how bloody devious Reid's friends can be. Off the record of course."
Hotch was rather puzzled by this man.
One minute he was scolding them all like toddlers, then he was sitting in on what was 'family' business, now he was inviting him to steal Rossi's malt.
Even for a profiler, an experienced one at that, Carentine was an Enigma.
"How am I doing?" Carentine suddenly asked with a full blown 100% f%$k you grin on his face.
"sir?"
"Spencer Reid is an excellent teacher. One that I have had the chance to avail myself of for at least 4 years. So how am I doing?" the director asked yet again.
"Very well sir," Hotch replied feeling a bit better that Carentine had been schooled by one of the most gifted profilers he had ever met, "I think Rossi keeps the whisky in the filing cabinet..."
"Middle drawer. Behind the files. God he is getting predictable in his dotage," Carentine laughed as he opened the door and walked on to the dimly lit walk way. He stopped and looked down into the bullpen. It felt strange to see it so empty so calm.
" I have enjoyed my time at the bureau, strange as that statement may sound. But my best times, the times when I felt whole and contributing something were in a bullpen much like this. Don't let them push you up before your ready to give this up Aaron. " he advised softly then moved purposefully for Rossi's office.
Hotch looked down into the quiet room. But he saw the team at their desks. Prentiss mediating between a teasing Morgan and an annoyed Reid. With their effervescent Garcia laughing in the background.
"I don't think I'll ever want to give this...them up" he whispered to the darkened room.
BAU ROSSI'S OFFICE 2330hrs
After more than three shots of Rossi's excellent, and probable extortionate Scottish 12 year old malt. Carentine and Hotch had left the subject of Reid and his guardians for the moment.
"Your agent Morgan is very protective of his team. He takes that stance from you," Carentine announced as he swirled the amber liquid around his glass. "he needs to become more adept at hiding his emotions though."
"Morgan is just naturally protective of those he cares for. That trait isn't down to me," Hotch explained firmly before swallowing the last of his glass. Any more and he was sleeping on the couch in his office.
"On that I think we will just have to disagree. But I will say that he made the right decision not to take the New York office...it would have been a mistake...I am not saying he isn't a good agent and can lead well...on a temporary basis. But he still needs a little more stability to lead on a permanent basis. Don't you think Aaron?"
Before Hotch could form his answer Carentine poured another drink into his glass. Couch, he mentally decided before he even picked it back up.
"In my opinion Derek Morgan is ready. I think he proved that during the Foyet case. That doesn't mean that I want to let him leave this team. But as things stand that may not be up to me." Hotch took a swallow of the alcohol and savoured the distinct taste as it went down.
"Of course you don't I'd consider you an imbecile if you did. And I am informed that you are not that. Your team has accomplished miracles..."
Hotch couldn't suppress the snort of disbelief that erupted.
Carentine laughed at the 'pleasantly toasted' man.
"Ahh I see that you are recollecting our previous ball breaking discussion. Put it down to my release from being silent when you want to scream 'it stinks!"
Hotch sat up a little straighter and carefully put his glass on the table. He was not drunk just a little bit past being sober.
"Is that what Spencer thinks~~That something smells?"
"Yes my dear Aaron I do believe that is one of the 'things' that your outrageous Ms Garcia was alluding to. Cheers"
"Oh crap! Cheers!" Hotch swallowed the rest of his drink down and wondered how much trouble one genius could get into.
CRAP!
{Back in time a for the next little bits}
UNDERGROUND PARKING AREA QUANTICO 2210HRS
The phone rang out and finally was answered.
"Its me...No I haven't found him. He's not being protected in house or by WitSec...no listen he is being hidden by personal friends at some private location...I don't know...he was in DC this afternoon...I didn't...no I was just informed at a meeting...the rest of the Team and Director Carentine...I don't know. But he knows something...What I cant...no listen Garcia through a fit at Rossi about tracing him...No she will have the whole computer system tapped in case someone tries...Why do we need him?...okay I will try some outside connections...fine."
FBI SUV..2215HRS
Derek Morgan drove the black standard issue FBI vehicle through the quiet dark roads of Virginia back into the nations capital.
Unusually the inside of the vehicle was as quiet as the passing landscape. This caused the profiler to throw puzzled looks at his subdued passenger.
He was well aware that his Baby Girl was holding back in the conference room. Was withholding information from the others, but he knew she would talk to him when she was ready. Just like she had promised.
He had assumed that this would happen when they reached Garcia's apartment.
That assumption had lasted for the ten minutes of their journey.
"We need to talk," Garcia whispered.
"I know baby Girl. We will when we get home," Morgan promised not looking at her as he passed by the large articulated vehicle safely.
"No! NO! Now...I cant do this Derek," Penelope protested then burst into heartbreaking sobs.
Derek took in the state his precious girl had worked herself up into. It didn't take a profiler to see she wasn't just upset. She was scared and angry.
"Okay Mama. We will pull over the first chance we get. Okay?" he promised squeezing her soft hand with his strong one.
Garcia nodded. The tears still fell, but she felt better inside knowing that Derek would know everything in just a few minutes
That she wouldn't be alone worrying about Reid's plan.
Morgan increased his speed just a little to reach a lay-by he knew was coming up to just a little quicker.
He breathed a sigh of relief when it came into the beam of his headlights.
Carefully he pulled in and set his hazard lights on.
With a deep breathe he released his and Garcia's seatbelts and pulled the distressed woman into his embrace.
For a few moments nothing was said, they just held onto each other. Gaining strength for what was to come.
"Okay my beautiful Lady. I am here, I am listening. Just take it at your own pace..its okay. I love you." Morgan muttered into her blond hair, hoping that whatever was to come they would weather it and stay together.
"Its okay..."
THE MANSION OF DAVID ROSSI 2300
David Rossi sank back into the plump cushions of his Amethyst coloured couch enjoying the exquisite sound from his music system.
As he listened to Placido Domingo exalt the Naples classic 'O sole mio', he sipped on the mature malt in his crystal tumbler.
It had been a surprise Christmas gift from Reid.
It hadn't been a surprise that the good doctor had bought him a gift, but that he had been delighted with the bottle of malt.
It had certainly trumped the crazy socks, underwear and handkerchiefs the other 'kids' had got him.
As he relaxed he thought more about the young profiler and his probable next move.
He had tried to put himself in the young profilers place, and had come to some hard conclusions.
Garcia's little show tonight had only confirmed for him that the good doctor was obviously up to something. He had a fair idea what the something was. He just didn't have a clue how Reid would be able to do it.
Sure he could maybe pull it off.
But he was David Rossi.
He had been around the track a lot more times that Reid.
He had connections...but then again it seemed that their youngest had connections too. In very high flying places if John Carentine was to be believed.
Rossi lifted his glass just as the music ended.
"Salute. Good luck to you my boy." he told the listening shadows then swallowed what was left of his measure.
'RUTH'S PLACE' DINER 2300hrs
Mick Rawson watched his companion as they sat in the all-night diner they had found as they drove into DC.
Finally he had enough.
"Emily will you please relax. I am not going to interrogate you over your tea. You have my word." he promised while keeping his voice low.
Even at this late hour the diner was doing a steady trade. Their custom coming from truckers and cabbies grabbing a quick snack before moving, and students looking for sustenance to keep them awake to study even longer.
And of course the very occasional FBI agent.
Emily looked up. A light blush of embarrassment flushing her face as she hid her hands...with her badly bitten nails.
"I'm sorry Mick. I am still tense from that stupid case...and of course this situation with Reid. I ..."
"Emily stop! Look I can promise you whomever is behind your doctor getting hurt. Will rue that decision. I am sorry I cant tell you more ...but it is for his and your safety. ….and mine." he added on with a laugh.
Emily felt herself relax slightly. It was good to see him again. Even if things were still up the air...
"No Mick I am just glad he is safe...he's been through so much Mick...and then he ...well this crap with me and Doyle. It all happened so quick..."
Rawson reached across the small table and claimed one of her hands. She hadn't even noticed that she had begun to pick at her nails as she spoke.
"Yeah...these kinda things normally do love."
Emily's captured fingers curled round his, as her eyes filled with tears.
"But ...but the damage its caused Mick...I really wish...what's the point?" she sighed trying to free her hand from his hold.
But Rawson held on to it.
"Look Em ….When you called before...I'm sorry I was so distant...well I was an ass actually...I was angry. I admit that. But you had to do whatever it took to survive. And God knows I understand that. I have said and done things to live...well I had no right to treat..."
Emily took a deep breathe and interrupted him.
"Before you tie yourself up in a pretzel soldier boy, I have a suggestion..or at least a question"
Mick fell silent and looked into her dark eyes. He was well aware that she wasn't as confident and calm as she sounded. After all he was a profiler too.
"Well?" he prodded after the silence had gone on too long.
"Can we start again?" Prentiss asked quickly and quietly.
"Sure...Hello my name is Michael James Rawson. And I think we should get to know each other...preferably not in a diner with who knows who listening in." Mick replied with a heart stopping smile on his face.
Emily couldn't stop the watery laugh that left her mouth.
"My name is Emily Elisabeth Prentiss. And I think you might be right...so pay the bill and we can be off" she teased getting to her feet.
It felt so good to just banter and flirt with Mick. Who knew if it would go anywhere. But for now she didn't really care.
She was alive...and she wanted to live.
JAREAU HOUSEHOLD 2300HRs
Jennifer Jareau loved her town house.
It was perfect.
Perfect for Henry and her and that was all that mattered.
No one at the BAU knew that Will, Henry's father had be totally stubbornly against her return to Quantico. Against her returning to the Team.
Which made no sense to her.
While she had been at the Pentagon, all they had done was fight. It seemed to her that they had said everything they wanted to say to each other and now they both just picked at the other.
The more she had thought about it. The more she realised they hadn't been together for long periods of time.
In the beginning they had snatched weekend whenever they could.
Then when Henry was first here, they had both been lost in the wonder of being parents to their golden boy.
Then she had returned to the team and things were strained. But they worked it out.
But the time she spent at the pentagon was the worst.
She was good at her job. She didn't know how not to be.
But she wasn't happy. She needed to be with her family..the team..him.
Which led to her being snappy at home, she would admit. But then so was Will.
But when she brought up the notion of returning to the team as a profiler, he blew.
He went on and on about how they wouldn't be a family; that henry wouldn't know her; that she had done her part; that they should marry.
She had thought long and hard about all Wills opinions but in the end she had no choice.
She had to go back...she needed to go back.
He needed her.
As she locked the car door, she glanced up to the upper windows.
No lights shone tonight to welcome her home.
Henry was staying over at her neighbour Helen's. Helen had been a godsend when she went back to the BAU. She was a qualified kindergarten teacher who had a little boy three months younger than henry.
While Will...well Will was in new Orleans. He had gone down to testify in an old case, but that had been a month ago. Some how she didn't think the case was keeping him down there.
He had phoned her four times in that month. Although she knew he phoned Henry daily.
Whatever she thought of Will he was a good daddy.
As she opened her front door all her instincts and training came to the fore, and had he reaching for her weapon.
Before she could do so, the light in her living room flashed on and a familiar voice begged. "Don't Shoot JJ"
Jjs hand fell away from her holster at the sound.
"God you scared me," she scolded her uninvited guest. "Coffee?"
HOTCHNER RESIDENCE 0014HRS THURSDAY
Aaron Hotchner was a little fuzzy about how that Machiavellian bastard, namely John Carentine had coearsed him into his chauffeured town car.
But he knew he had since he was sitting on his own living room couch, not attempting to squish his frame on the one in his office.
He was going to ignore the annoying buzz of his Blackberry, but duty was to ingrained for him to do so.
"Hotchner" he barked, even though it hurt his head.
"Oh boy! How toasted are you?" a wonderfully familiar voice asked.
"Are you okay? Why are you calling? Your FRIEND said you weren't allowed to call us," Hotch spewed out not stopping for thought until his breathe ran out.
"One-I am fine. Healing on schedule. Two- because...well because I know you'll understand. I never knew how annoying...no that's not the right word...I have been shot. That was bad enough...but this is different." Reid tried to explain, but he felt he had failed monumentally.
But Hotch's next words laid that thought down.
"It is different...and you will never find that allusive word you're searching for. But I hear your wounds are being taken care of ...that you're healing?"
"I'm being spoiled...and its lovely. But what has Carentine done to you and Garcia. She nearly bit my head off about him."Reid whined wondering what his friend had been up to.
Hotch frowned hard in thought, then his whisky flavoured mouth betrayed him. " He is a Machiavellian bastard...and you taught him."
Reid couldn't help but laugh at the totally aggrieved tone in his normally stoic boss. This little moment would be treasured forever in his cavernous memory.
"Not funny Spencer..thought I was loosing it." Hotch groaned as he lay down on the couch. Then had to sit back up, to remove one of Jacks action figures from his spine.
"Maybe not to you, boss man. But I find it highly amusing. And you do realise you just called me Spencer?"
"You want me to call you SSA Doctor Spencer Reid ?" Hotch huffed as he cuddled into the soft velvet like covering on the squishy cushions Jess had bought for the new suite.
"No Aaron Hotchner I would not." Reid sassed back.
"Why did you call?" Aaron asked again, fighting against the irresistible temptation of sleep. He wanted ..no needed an answer.
"I guess...well I guess I wanted to say sorry." Spencer replied sadly.
Before Aaron's muffled brain had conjured up any reply the line went dead in his ear.
"What have you to be sorry for Spencer?" he whispered to the empty room sleep now forgotten.
"Daddy?" a young sleepy voice called from behind him.
Hotch quickly placed the phone down as he turned himself round to see Jack standing on the lower stairs in his Superman Pjs.
For all he was exhausted and running on malt whisky the sight of jack made everything right.
Jack was his reason for all he attempted, all he achieved, all he was.
"Hey buddy. Your up late. You okay?" Aaron asked as he scooped his son into his strong arms. The last question wasn't a casual one. Jack had suffered from some nasty nightmares since the murder of his mother. And although they had be rarer as time went on. Hotch wanted his son to know he could always tell him about them.
"Thirsty" Jack explained as he cuddled into the safe haven that was his dad.
He really did love Aunt Jess, but his dad was just the best.
Hotch smiled at the half sleeping boy in his arms, and cuddled him close.
"Okay, but only a little one." Hotch answered as he took Jack into the bright kitchen.
Aaron sat Jack on the worktop beside the sink, but kept one hand on him in case he slipped. He poured a little water into one of the boys many cartoon cups.
"Dad?" Jack asked in-between small sips
"Yes Jack"
"Why so sad. Did someone get hurt?"
Hotch sighed. He wished his son had no idea of the monsters beyond these walls, but he did. And he wouldn't lie to him.
"They're getting better. I am just missing seeing them I guess." Aaron explained hoping it was enough for Jack.
"One of your TEAM?" Jack asked handing over his empty cup.
Hotch had to smile at that, as he wiped jacks face dry.
He supposed it was natural that he would pick up the term. But when he said it definable had capital letters. THE TEAM.
"Yes Dr Reid got hurt a while ago and is staying with some friends till he is better." Hotch explained as he carried his son out of the kitchen. Letting him switch of the light. Through the living room and up the stairs.
"He could come and stay here." Jack announced firmly when they were half way up the stairs.
"What? Why?" Hotch blustered, wondering just where Jack got this idea from.
"Well Reid s your friend. And if he was here Aunt Jess and you could make him well. And you wouldn't be sad. And he could tell me more miffs." Jack explained tiredly as sleep started to pull at him.
"Myths Jack" Hotch corrected with a grin as he placed the small boy back into his tumbled bed.
"Myths," Jack muttered as he was tucked back in.
"Night jack, I am going to lock up okay. You try to get back to sleep right?"
Aaron instructed as he bent over to place a soft kiss on the forehead of his only son.
"Luv'u'dad"
Hotch felt that warm peace flood through him at his sons muffled words.
"I love you too Jack. Goodnight."
"mph nite" came the reply as jack snuggled under his Marvel duvet.
Aaron slipped quietly out of the room and back down to the foyer.
He checked all the windows and doors on the ground floor. Then locked and bolted the main door before setting the alarm.
As he re climbed the stairs he wondered again why Spencer had really called.
"Christ Spencer I'm the one who is sorry," he muttered reaching his bedroom door.
He quickly disposed of his clothes and brushed his teeth.
As he got comfortable in his bed he muttered one little thought.
"Stay safe and don't get reckless"
pity the genius so far away didn't hear him.