Strength and Healing

Chapter 10

AN: Here is chapter 10, something of a resolution to the Erin situation. I was extremely happy to see that you all seem to be supporting me with this plot choice. Here you will find out exactly what happened and how the whole team is dealing with it. The entire chapter is basically a flashback, and it ends where I left off in Chapter 8. Now that we've caught up, it's time to move forward in the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own CM characters. They belong to ABC, CBS, etc., but not me. If I did own them, neither actress playing these women would have been fired and Jemily would be an actual canon thing.

I also want to add that I fortunately do not suffer from PTSD. I don't know exactly how it works, but I want to do my best to treat JJ's situation with care. So, please correct any mistakes I make, particularly involving this subject. TRIGGER WARNING for conversations about rape and violence.

–Gabby

"Never be ashamed of a scar. It simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you."

-Unknown

That night, the members of the BAU slept peacefully for the first time in a while. Knowing Erin was locked up securely in Quantico was a relief that not one of them could begin to describe. Morgan and Hotch had agreed to come in earlier than usual-along with Penelope, who had stayed the night at Morgan's—in order to prepare Erin to be transferred to a nearby women's prison. Local news anchors had followed the three agents to the doors of the FBI building, only to have them slammed in their face. None of the agents were going to answer any questions about Erin's indictment until she was out of their hair.

The three of them walked through security and into the building, heading towards the holding cell area, adjacent to the interrogation rooms. They could hold five suspected perps at a time in those cells, but right now, Erin was the only resident.

It was strange for JJ's friends and colleagues to be so involved in this case, and for the first time in their careers, they were understanding why they had to be objective in their work. The anger and sadness that learning the details of what had happened to their confident and poised media liaison/profiler had also motivated them, however, and now that they were on the road home, the euphoria was palpable.

Morgan's thoughts over the past few days had covered many topics. To be truthful, it had occurred to him that maybe Erin was a reason why some people saw homosexuals as sexual deviants. It was a talking point on the news last night as the local stations covered the Erin Driver case. It was a notion he had quickly sent flying out of his mind. He wasn't even sure that Erin was gay; she was probably just abusing women because she was also female. And even if Erin was a homosexual female sadist, it was thoughts like this that caused the hate and the violence befallen on JJ at Jackson Shaffer's hands. People who believed that Erin Driver or Carl Buford made up the homosexual demographic were simply ignorant, and had never had the honor of knowing people like JJ and Emily; they didn't come better than those girls. It was all ignorance, and ignorance may as well be wickedness, for they similarly impact the world.

Hotch, for his part, had remained relatively stoic throughout the case, as usual. He had allowed himself to express his joy after receiving the call from Amanda, but afterwards, he resumed his quiet strength in order to remain a somewhat objective leader of his team. He couldn't help the satisfied smile that played on his lips this morning though. As he walked through the hallways of the BAU, followed by two of his extraordinarily talented agents, Aaron Hotchner was proud.

Garcia hadn't yet had a face-to-face interaction with Erin and she wasn't looking forward to it. Penelope wasn't exactly intimidating. In fact, she pictured herself making eye contact with the redhead and immediately turning around, making a beeline for her lair, a fearful scream escaping her throat. Sleeping with Morgan the previous night had provided her with confidence. The team was better when they were together. And as long as she had her hot chocolate by her side, they could accomplish anything.

Rossi was home with Strauss. And the abuser of one of the people who he loved most in the world was about to go to prison for what he hoped would be a long, long time. Not much else mattered to one of the BAU's founders.

Spencer, in fact, was the only BAU Agent who did not sleep that night. Despite his contributions and analyses, the young genius couldn't shake the feeling that something about this situation wasn't right: the profile was incorrect, JJ was in danger, Amanda's situation was more complicated than the profile would have them believe….The possible mistakes ran through his head, repeated, reverberated inside his brilliant mind like a drum. No. Like a clock. Tick…tick…tick…boom.

And at home, sleeping peacefully in their bed, were the BAU's female profilers. And like their friends, they were blissfully unaware of what was going on in that cell in Quantico.

As Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia approached the holding cell, there was an eerie quiet settling around them. The first thing they noticed was the empty bed. Garcia gasped, fearful that somehow, the manipulator had escaped. Hotch immediately noticed that not only was the bed empty of a person, it was empty of sheets as well.

Morgan saw Erin first. Less than a second after, Penelope and Hotch followed his line of sight, and the woman screeched, louder than anything either of the men had ever heard from her. Hearing the commotion and the blood-curdling scream, some of the B-Team agents, who were preparing to leave for a case across the country, staggered into the lobby area of the section of the building containing the holding cells. These were the toughest, most stoic people in the country, and they were all crying, or gasping, or vomiting. Except for Morgan and Hotch. The darker man turned to the five additional agents that had joined them, three men (Anderson, Peters, and White) and two women (Benson and Lang). Without emotion, he asked, "When was the last time someone checked on Erin Driver?"

Lang, B-Team's media liaison, spoke up. "An hour ago. She looked like she was sleeping."

"You checked on her, Lang?" Hotch questioned.

The young woman nodded, obviously blindsided by the latest developments. "There was nothing to suspect….If I had any reason to think-"

Morgan interrupted. "This is not your fault, Julia. There was nothing in the profile that would predict this."

Hotch began doing what he did best, divvying up tasks. "Anderson, will you call the local PD and tell them what's happened?" The man who one day wanted to be the Bureau's next Aaron Hotchner nodded to his superior and left to perform the task he was asked to do. Hotch turned to the remaining members of the B-Team who were in the building. "Agent Lang, will you gather your team in the round table room to discuss your case once Kelly and Porter arrive? And Winters, will you collect the log of check-ins for Erin Driver last night and put it in my office? The rest of you can go."

Once only the original three agents remained, Hotch asked Garcia to go into her lair and see if there was video of Erin's death. He told her they'd meet her in there in a few minutes. The tech analyst eagerly left the scene in order to do what she did best.

Hotch reached into his pocket a produced the key to cell number one. He opened the door and turned to Morgan, who had collected gloves from a box in the lobby. "That's a hell of a noose," the unit chief commented, walking into the cell with Morgan on his heels.

"It's made of her shoelaces and the bedsheets," Morgan observed, standing on the bed to get a good angle for pictures. Both men took pictures of Erin's lifeless body before Morgan untied the bedsheets which were attached to a nail on the ceiling where a fan once was. He gingerly lowered the body down onto the bed so they could confirm her cause of death.

Hotch released her from the homemade noose and checked for a pulse, not that he expected to find one. He felt for an obvious break before nodding to Morgan. "Her neck is broken."

"Suicide," Morgan said, as if testing the word on his lips, attempting to put a piece into the puzzle that it belonged to, but so obviously didn't fit. It was an extra piece. It didn't fit anywhere; the puzzle was finished and had already been put up for display. "JJ," the man whispered, "can't catch a break."

That's when he noticed the folded up piece of paper on the bed. "Jennifer" was written in elegant calligraphy. "Suicide note?" He went to open it to confirm his hypothesis, but Hotch stopped him.

"This is for JJ to read, not us, Morgan," Hotch chastised.

"But it's evidence," the profiler argued.

"JJ is a profiler, Derek. If she thinks it's something we need to see, she'll let us know." Hotch pocketed the note.

Just then, some men from the DC police department arrived, including Detective George Elliott, the man who the team hatefully referred to as Detective Asshole. He had been detective of the local PD for a long time. He had been there during JJ's abduction and during her first case back after her abduction, the case in which JJ and Emily almost took home six-year-old twins. Detective Asshole had possessed the nerve to ask JJ if she was going to run away and get herself abducted again. "Hello again, boys," the detective greeted. "We can take it from here."

Not allowing the man to take over the case just yet, Hotch summarized his and Morgan's findings, leaving out the note.

Afterwards, Detective Asshole sighed dramatically with a small smirk. "You know, this Agent JJ of yours seems to be more of a hindrance than a help to you all. She causes lots of drama; she's made a habit of crying rape. Like a woman can rape another woman. Please. It's not even sex."

There had been times in his life where Morgan had to resist hitting a person who made him angry, but he couldn't recall it ever being harder than it was at that moment. "You listen here, pinhead, we all know that we don't like each other. You don't like us because there are women on our team, because JJ and Emily are together, whatever, but what you really don't like is that Agent Jareau was a better agent the day after her abduction than you could ever be. I'm not even going to dignify your ridiculous claims with a response. Agent Hotchner and I are going to talk to our tech analyst. Show yourself out when you're done."

As Hotch followed Morgan out of the holding cell area, he made eye contact with Elliott. "Just shut up and do your job."

The men arrived in Garcia's lair just as she was standing up. "Oh! My furry friends. I was about to come tell you there is no video of Erin killing herself because she smashed the camera about twenty minutes after Agent Lang checked on her." Neither man responded. "We have to call JJ and Emily now, don't we?"

Morgan nodded. "I'll go call Emily's cell," he offered.

Hotch nodded. "I'll let Amanda and Brittany know that we won't be needing them for the trial."

"Oh! And Dr. Chung too, Hotch. And will you also call JJ's mom? She shouldn't hear this from the news," Garcia suggested.

"You're right, Garcia. Speaking of the news, do you think you can rally the press?"

"Should I tell them the truth?" she asked.

Hotch nodded. "Let me brief you on what's going on first and then I'll start making calls. You still okay to call Emily and JJ, Morgan?"

"Yeah, Hotch," he replied. He wanted to be the one to share the news. If Penelope did it, Emily wouldn't be able to tell what her friend was saying through her tears. And if Hotch did it, he would try to leave out all traces of emotion, which would in turn cause Emily to compartmentalize immediately. Morgan hoped that he would be the happy medium his best friends' deserved.

Once the other two left, he took a deep breath and called Emily's cell number. "This is Prentiss."

"Prentiss, it's Morgan. Look, man, I don't even know how to say this, but I'm just gonna. Erin's dead, Emily. She killed herself this morning."

"Wait. What? Please say that again."

The tone in his best friend's voice broke his heart. "Erin committed suicide. She used her shoelaces and bedsheets to make a noose. I'm so sorry, Emily. We were all banking on putting her away, and I can't even imagine how JJ will react. She wrote a suicide note. It's addressed to JJ. I have it if she wants to read it."

"Okay," Morgan heard Emily force out after a few moments of silence. "Let me talk to Jen about all this and we'll see if she even wants to see it."

"Alright, Emily. I'm so sorry about all this. This is not the call I was expecting to make this morning."

"Thank you for calling, Morgan. I'm glad I'm hearing this from you, not that there's a good person to hear this news from."

"We're all sending you guys our love. Let us know if you need anything."

"Yeah, we'll check in with you later, Derek. Bye."

The line went dead after a moment and Derek sighed. He had woken up this morning excited for what the day would bring. Now, he just wanted to cry. He shook his head. He needed to be strong for his girls. He decided to do something useful and call Reid and Rossi. They needed to know too. But he couldn't help feeling guilty that like with him, this news would ruin the cathartic relief that had been allowing them to rest for the first time in days. Both men took the news remarkably well. Spencer made Derek promise to call him in a few hours and Rossi said he was on his way to Quantico.

Morgan couldn't tell if he was happy. It was good to know that Erin would never hurt anyone ever again, but the justice seemed to be too swift, too merciful. Just like Carl Buford, JJ's molester would be prematurely sent to hell. Not that he believed in hell. But just for a moment, he allowed himself to wish. To hope that there was more punishment for the kinds of people who would get sexual gratification from causing an unbelievable amount of pain to a teenager who simply wanted to be loved.

AN: Okay, we will start moving forward in the next chapter. It should be up by the weekend. Please drop me a review and let me know what you think and what you want to happen. Thanks guys!

-Gabby