I wish I could be James Patterson or Tom Clancy and have a stable of writers that I could just feed detailed story outlines to, review the finished work, and been done with it. Just to catch up on the sheer volume of stories constantly bombarding my head and fighting for attention like it's a sport, and to put to rest the ones that even though already buried and forgotten, periodically rear up like zombies and gnaw teasingly on my brain. Of course, I'm far too much of a control freak to let anyone else write my stories for me. Meh.
Rant over. Little note, I've got midterms coming up next week, so the next chapter (and/or the one after) may be delayed, but as soon as midterms pass, I'm going to work on cranking out this story asap.
Thank you everyone for your reviews on this story, the recent Addy story, and Letting Go; they all made me really happy. :)
"Hey babygirl, you have anything new?" Morgan stretched as he wandered around the parking lot. He'd been the first finished with his interview and needed a minute to get a little fresh air and talk to Garcia.
It was already starting to get dark, and they weren't much closer to catching the unsub. This was going on his list of cases he hated, and wanted to bury in a deep, dark hole in his brain. Unfortunately, those tended to be the ones that really stuck with him.
"No, sorry handsome. I'm going as fast as my fingers will move." She sounded guilty, like she thought it was her fault that she couldn't find more information.
"That's alright, you've done plenty. We'll figure out the rest." He kicked a stone into the grass, and focused his eyes on the moon that was just barely becoming visible.
"Derek? You sound like you have something else on your mind." He was silent as he tried to think of a way to broach the subject, long enough that she repeated herself, voice cautious. "Derek?"
"I love her."
Now Garcia was silent for several beats. "Well, no one's ever going to accuse you of being subtle, honey."
He laughed through his nose. Garcia sighed on her end. "So, I assume 'her' refers to a certain attention-phobic, kick-ass, dark-haired beauty that's currently being put through a hell of an emotional wringer?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Yeah. You couldn't just say, Prentiss?"
"My way is more fun," she said. "And, when you say 'love' you mean the deep, makes your heart race, your knees weak, and your belly hurt kind?"
He sighed, and decided to just say exactly what was on his mind. "Reid said something yesterday, and then when I was holding her last night-"
"Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up there, holding her? Since when did you two start cuddling?"
"I figured JJ would have told you?" He owed the media liaison for keeping quiet, even from Garcia.
"No! How does JJ know?" Her voice was high and excited, so Morgan sighed and explained what happened last night.
"Yeah, I would have been panicking too. So, back to my other question, when did you two start snuggling up together?"
"The day after Bennett died. And, we don't always snuggle, she just likes the company."
"She feels safe with you."
"Yeah." He nodded to himself.
Garcia inhaled. "So, you were saying something about Reid saying something and you holding her last night...?"
"I don't do love, I don't do relationships, and I didn't mean to..." He sighed. "This is bad, babygirl."
"Why's it bad?"
"Aside from the fact that if he find outs, Hotch will have my balls? Prentiss isn't ready for this, she went through hell, and she's still trying to get through it, she doesn't need this right now."
"Alright, first, the Bossman has his own brass set, he doesn't need yours. And, second," she said cutting off his attempted protest. "This might be exactly what she needs, to know that she's still loveable, still attractive, that she's still very much her, even after all she went through."
He'd like to think that was true, but he wasn't so sure. He glanced up to see a black SUV coming down the street, flipping it's blinker on, and as it got closer he could make out a brunette and a blonde inside. "I've got to go, babygirl."
"Okay, don't stress to much about this, Derek. In my book, love is never a bad thing."
"Yeah, thanks," he said unconvincingly. He was still betting Hotch would kill him if he found out he had feelings for Prentiss. Or maybe just neuter him.
They'd barely stepped into the police station, when Hotch told her and Morgan to turn back around and go interview Jake Freeling again. His brother still couldn't be found by the locals, and was looking more and more like a viable suspect. Fortunately for her, Hotch hadn't commented on her red eyes and nose, and Reid and Rossi had been too occupied to notice. Morgan had remained mum as well, but with him, a look was enough to tell her that he was concerned. The level of compassion in his eyes was sometimes hard to take, and it this time was no exception, so she'd avoided eye contact.
They climbed into the car with few words, Morgan driving, and started toward the small house Jake inhabited. The locals had informed them that it was part of a government-built housing project, and far from its heyday. Five minutes down the street, Morgan reached past the shifter and slipped his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers. Emily reacted with surprise at first, but then gently squeezed his hand in a show of thanks. She was aware how close they were treading the line between friends and something more.
It scared the hell out of her.
"You know, if we catch this guy tonight, we can be out of here tomorrow," he said, attention not wavering from the road.
"That would be nice," she agreed.
"It may not be a bad idea for you to take a few days when we get back, shake this off."
She turned to look at him, expression just shy of a scowl, and she was about to speak when her cell rang. Sighing, Emily pulled it out, and answered it. "Prentiss."
"Emily?" It was a man's voice, and vaguely familiar, but other than that, she couldn't place it.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"It's me, George."
Her breath froze in her throat, and her heart rate jumped into a gallop. "How the hell did you get this number?"
"Well, I've got a friend in the system, he knows how much we mean to each other. I miss you, beautiful." He sounded so kind, so sweet, and just as delusional as Chris.
"You don't even know me. How did you get a phone, your privileges have been revoked?"
"They can smuggle anything into prisons now, even cell phones. I've got that hearing tomorrow, so I'll be out soon, alright sweetness? I'll see you then."
"No, no you won't. You come near me again, and I'll shoot you, and I won't aim for your damn leg this time. And, do not call me again!" She hit the end button, and had a messy fight with the phone until she was able to pull her battery out. It was then she noticed Morgan watching her, eyes a little wide, body tense, ready to pounce on whoever needed pouncing.
"Tell me that wasn't that little freak Liberman?"
"Yes. He got a smuggled cell phone, and somehow my number."
Morgan hit the steering wheel, face twisting with anger as he turned down the side road to Freeling's house. "We should call the prison and tell them."
She nodded, and reached into his pocket for his phone, calling first information, and then getting connected with the jail. She spoke with the head guard, who promised to deal with Liberman straight away. By the time Emily had thanked him and hung up, they were pulling up to the dilapidated housing project Jake Freeling called home.
She handed the phone back to Morgan, and they walked through the houses, looking for the corrected number. It wasn't the most glamorous settlement, but it would have a certain charm if anyone had bothered with upkeep. There were small houses, split to make half houses to fit more families. But each had a small porch, and an almost country look to it. Then there was the flaking paint, rusted screens, and cracked railings. Bikes were left in the small yards, a tire swing beside one, a big wheel beside another, and a few made attempts at garden. They may have looked nice in the spring or summer, it was hard to tell now.
And people were scattered about, socializing, children chasing each other, but most stopped to stare at the two well-dressed cops-no one here was about to mistake them for anything else-that suddenly entered their little piece of the world. Emily actually appreciated being stared at for something other than her new-found fame. Ignoring this kind of attention that wasn't all that unusual, Morgan knocked gently on the door to number 17.
The door opened to reveal a familiar petite young woman with short, rust-colored curls, a baby-face full of freckles, and a belly swollen to fifth or sixth month of pregnancy. Kirsten Hanes. Her surprise fell away to a smile. "Hi there, you're looking for Jake again?"
"We are, Ms. Hanes. Is he home?" Morgan didn't miss a beat, quickly covering up his surprise.
"He's in the nursery, crib just came in." Her smile fell then, and she didn't move. "He told me you guys were asking about those rapes...he didn't do any of that. Jake isn't capable of hurting anyone like that."
"We aren't looking at him as a suspect, we'd actually like to ask him about his brother," Emily explained.
She actually shifted back. "Matt? You think he did it?"
"We're looking at him as a suspect," Morgan said. "What can you tell us about him?"
"Well I...I wouldn't believe he could rape anyone. He's a sweet guy, a little weird, but far too gentle to do what that guy did to those animals, and that poor woman."
"What do you mean, weird?"
She opened her mouth, looked between them, and sighed. "Come on in." She showed them to a small living room that while furnished inexpensively, still held a very homey, welcoming feel. "Let me get Jake."
When he arrived the young man looked less than thrilled to see them. "Kirsten said you want to know about Matt?"
"What was his relationship like with your mother?" Morgan launched right in.
"He hated her, I think I mentioned that."
"You did, did he mention why?"
Jake sighed and finally sat down, arms across his chest. "I assumed it was because she hit him like she hit me. I hated her too."
Emily leaned forward. "Jake, did you mother ever touch you inappropriately?"
"What, you mean like molest me?" Emily nodded. He frowned, and unconsciously bit his lip. "Once, not long before Matt came for me. I told him about it after a few days, and he that's when he came for me...why?"
"How did he react when you told him that she'd touched you?"
"He was furious. He had to be cause he screamed at her when he came, I'd never heard him yell at anyone, let alone our mother. I always thought he was afraid of her." Kirsten returned then, sitting beside Jake, who was instantly focused on her, making sure she was comfortable, and slipping his hand into hers. "Jake isn't a bad guy, and he isn't violent."
"Does he date much?" Morgan asked. If the unsub had that many issues with his mother and himself, it's unlikely he'd do much dating.
"He's just really shy," Kirsten defended.
Jake nodded. "He's not very good with people, real introverted, you know? I think his last girlfriend was over a year ago, she didn't last long."
"We haven't been able to find Matt, do you have any idea where he could be?" Emily said.
"If he's not at his apartment, or working, then no, not really."
"He doesn't have a favorite bar? A hobby? Someplace he likes to go?" Morgan pressed.
"I told you, he doesn't socialize much, and I've never really known him to have a hobby. He was taking some classes at the community college, but I don't think he signed up for any this semester."
Morgan's phone rang then, and he got up to answer it, while Emily remained with the couple, asking a few more questions. After a minute, Kirsten turned to her. "I've seen you on TV. It was really brave what you did for those kids." Emily nodded with a soft thanks, and Kirsten cleared her throat. "Is it hard? I mean I know raising kids isn't easy, but we're both a little nervous about our baby...we already love him though."
"I don't actually know, I was only with those kids a week."
Kirsten frowned. "You don't have any of your own? I figured you had to be a mother, only a mother would sacrifice that much for babies, even if they weren't hers."
She shook her head. "No, I don't have children." Then she decided to add. "But, I'm sure you'll both do fine with your baby."
"We just want to do better than either of our parents did," Jake said, squeezing Kirsten's hand.
Morgan came back over then, looking at Emily. "That was JJ. One of her sources told her someone tipped the press, and they're on their way here."
She didn't need to ask why. "We're done here anyway." She stood up and faced the young couple. "Good luck with the baby, I'm sure you'll be wonderful parents."
Kirsten beamed, and Jake straightened himself out. The two FBI agents quickly made for the SUV, Emily desperately wanting to know when this hell would end.