A/n hello all… Here's the next chapter. You've all been very kind, and extremely helpful in your comments and I thank you. There's one more chapter to go after this one.
Disclaimer: See the first chapter
Warning: See the first chapter
Aftermath
Hotch, Rossi, Morgan and JJ entered the coffee shop three hours after the interrogation. The room reminded Rossi of an old fashioned soda fountain in the drug store where he'd grown up. It had the same black and white alternating squares on the floor. The long metal counter top had small, individual juke boxes that were silver to match the counter. The bar stools had red tops and the booths that ran along both walls were red too.
It was late, about ten pm, but there was one familiar person at the booth closest to the door. She looked up and grinned at them over the impressive dish of ice cream in front of her.
"Hey y'all should'a told me you were comin' in here."
"Hi Detective," JJ said.
They joined her in the booth that was just large enough for all of them. "Hey Detective… That's some ice cream sundae you got there." Morgan said grinning at her.
"Bad habit… I wish this place wasn't so close to the precinct. This is my stress relief. I suppose one day it will catch up with me, but for now…"
"Looks great… I'm going to have one." Rossi said.
The others looked at each other and shrugged. "Beats getting smashed," JJ said. "No hangover in the morning."
"No… but there's always the possibility of an ice cream headache," Sorenson said.
They laughed again, and Hotch was reminded of Jack and the last time they gone out for ice cream. His son had loved the chocolate mint flavor Hotch had given him to try. Hotch smiled at the memory of the green ice cream all over his son's face.
A waitress came over to their table and they all ordered. "What the hell… My diet can wait till tomorrow." JJ said.
"That's the spirit." Sorenson said over a spoonful of chocolate ice cream.
Hotch ordered a dish of chocolate mint, and JJ had strawberry. Rossi got a banana split and Morgan ordered something called the High Roller's Supreme. It had just about every flavor imaginable.
"Ya hungry big guy…" Sorenson asked and the others laughed.
"Kicking ass always makes me hungry." He said. "Speaking of which, you guys should've seen the detective this afternoon. She kicked major ass with the precinct jackasses."
"Really…" JJ asked. "What happened?
Morgan told them about what the detective had done to Norton and Jimenez. He embroidered it a bit and made it much funnier than it had originally been at the time.
"I'd pay good money to see that." JJ said looking very impressed.
"It wasn't nothin' that they didn't deserve," Sorenson said as the waitress brought the orders to the table.
"Don't be so modest." Morgan told her over his first bite of the High Roller's Supreme. "You played them like a finely tuned fiddle. You should be a profiler."
"I'd love to… but getting' into the Bureau is tough these days. They prefer college educated and better accents."
"If you really want to get in, I could put in a good word for you." Hotch said.
"Nah… I ain't gonna trade on our relationship like that."
"I'm serious…" Hotch told her.
"I'll vouch for you." Morgan said. "The bureau is always looking for good talent. Now you wouldn't be able to jump right into profiling, but you could work up to it."
Sorenson shook her head, "Sounds cool boys, but I'm not goin' ta use what happened ta Slim as a way ta advance my career."
Rossi slammed his spoon down and vanilla ice cream splashed across the table. "I see how much you want this Detective. You're a good cop. All of us can see that you're not manipulating this situation. If Reid were here, he'd be saying the same thing."
The team nodded in unison. "Okay…" Sorenson said. "I'll apply… but if they decide to tell me no after they hear what y'all got to say, then y'all leave it be." She pointed at each of them in turn.
"Agreed…" Hotch said.
"How's Slim…" Sorenson asked.
"He'll be okay Emily's with him, and I've got something in mind to cheer him up." Hotch said.
"Oh… can I hear your plan."
"Sure… You see it's like this…"
--
Emily helped Reid sit down on the edge of his bed after returning to the hotel room. He was white faced and trembling. His breath wheezed in and out of his nose as though he run the last mile to the hotel.
"Here…" She reached into her purse and pulled out the prescription bottle they'd picked up at the pharmacy. "Sit tight… I'm going to get you a glass of water."
"Emily…"
"Spencer Reid… These are Tylenol. You don't have to worry!"
"I wasn't going to complain. Actually my leg really hurts!" He turned his large beautiful eyes on her.
There were dark circles of exhaustion under his eyes and his mouth was trembling. He'd fisted his hands so tightly, he was white knuckled.
"Lay down… I'll get some water for you."
"Okay…"
--
Detective Anna Sorenson stuck the key to her front door into the lock and turned it. The small click of the lock didn't reach her conscious mind and hearing. There was only one thing, or one person, that occupied her thoughts.
The condo's living room was pitch-black and she didn't turn on the light when she entered. The door slipped shut behind her and she turned the lock. The room was quiet and the darkness was soothing. She liked the dark. It had been her friend for a long time. Her mother used to say that there was nothing in the dark, that wasn't there in the daylight.
She stepped forward with confidence, using what little light there was from the street to guide her past the couch and the coffee table. The plasma TV at the end of the room called to her, offering her temporary escape, but she ignored it.
To her left was the kitchen and to her right was her bathroom, she went right and finally turned on a light when she reached the little bathroom. Right in front of her was a shower and bathtub combo. She had hung a multi colored shower curtain, which had red, and green, and blue geometric shapes all over a white back ground.
The sink was to the left and the toilet to the right. She went to the sink and looked in the mirror over it. Her eyes looked too bright and she was still smiling too widely after her encounter with the team in the ice cream shop.
She shouldn't have let Agents' Hotchner and Rossi talk her into accepting their endorsement of her abilities. She didn't deserve it. Yes… she wanted to be part of the FBI and a profiler, but not this way. She touched her reflection and watched the brightness go out of her eyes. She was frowning now.
It wasn't right, she wasn't right. She was taking advantage of a case that she'd got because she'd been on call one particular night. It could have easily been one of her colleagues that got the call. She lowered her eyes to the sink and hid from her own eyes while washing her hands.
She should call Agent Hotchner and tell him not to endorse her to his superiors. It was the right thing to do.
--
Emily brought Reid a glass of water. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and trying to get his shoes off with out bending too much and putting pressure in his stitches. The problem was that lifting the leg would also put too much pressure on the leg. Sweat was dripping into his eyes and his face had gone the color of bad cottage cheese.
"Spencer… What are you trying to do to yourself?" She scolded him.
"I'm trying to take off my clothes. I want my pills and a soft pillow if you don't mind."
She bit back the sarcastic reply she wanted to make and handed him the glass of water and the pain medication. He swallowed it and put the glass back on the night table. He was attempting to take off his shoes again when Emily stopped him and knelt down to loosen the laces of his Converse shoes.
"You don't have to do that," He said.
"Yes I do," She pulled off the shoes and then the mismatched socks.
"I can do it from here." He said, struggling to his feet and standing with one foot barely touching the floor.
She sat on the edge of the bed and he looked pointedly at her. "I said I was okay."
"I'm not leaving."
"Emily…"
"No… I'm not coddling your over active sense of modesty. God… we've been sleeping together for a couple of months now. I've seen everything you've got." She said while turning down the covers on the bed.
Instead of turning red and stuttering, he simply undid his belt, unzipped his cords and let them fall to the floor. His tie, sweater vest and shirt followed by his boxers came next. He dropped down on the bed and looked totally forlorn with the large dressing on his right leg.
"Now will you let me help you?"
He didn't answer her except to let her lift his legs and help him swing around till he could slid down and cover up with the bed sheets.
"Thanks," He said.
--
Anna poured the last of her mint tea down the sink and stood looking out the window. The lights were off in the kitchen and the blinds were open. The light from the street obscured her view of the sky, but the view out to the desert was clear. The new development she lived in backed right up to the Nevada desert and she found looking at the sand soothing, usually. Now the migraine she'd been working up to was pounding in her brain like an ice pick on a rock.
She sighed and put down the cup. The pills in her medicine cabinet were calling to her again, and soon she wouldn't be able to resist. The pills always made her feel disconnected and groggy in the morning. She didn't want to take them. She didn't want to sleep.
The relief from pain she could get from her medication was calling to her and it was too hard to say no as much as she wanted to. She filled the cup with water and went to the bathroom. She would take the medication and sleep. Maybe tomorrow would look better! Maybe when she woke up her brain wouldn't be telling her to give up her chance with the FBI.
--
"You can go now Emily…" Reid said. He closed his eyes.
"No…"
"I don't want you here."
Well that hurt! She refused to rise to the bait though, and slipped off her shoes. He lay in the soft light of the bedside lamp without speaking till she'd climbed into the bed next to him.
"Emily… I want to be alone."
"I know," She shifted and lay almost diagonal on her side of the bed so she could put her head on his chest without putting weight on his leg.
"Please Emily…" His eyes were closed and he'd gone white in the face again. A solitary tear tracked slowly down his face. "Why won't you go away? I want to be alone." He repeated.
"Yes… I know you do, that's why I'm not leaving." She moved up and put her head next to his on the pillow.
"You don't always have to be strong." She whispered.
"Yes I do," He said.
"Why…"
"Because I -" He thought and realized that the reason he wanted her to go away no longer existed. He wasn't alone. He had friends and family and Emily.
"I'm sorry. I'm being stupid. I'm just so angry. I hate Martin Bradshaw, but I feel bad for him too. I hate what he did to people I thought I hated for most of my life. I don't hate people Emily or I thought I didn't, and now I realize that I have it in me and it scares me."
"Honey… You're not perfect. None of us are… The only thing we can do is try to live without deliberately hurting others."
She hugged him tight as he cried for all the things he missed, his mother, his father, a childhood that could never come back, and innocence lost in a small shack in rural Georgia.
"It's okay baby…" She whispered in his ear. "Go to sleep and tomorrow will be brighter. I promise!"