A/n: thank you for your continued love and support. Special shout out to Rossi's Lil Devil, my faithful reviewer: they'll get there, don't worry. Quite a bit to come before that happens, however. Trust me, it'll all be worth it ;-)


Risky Business (S5E13)

In my view, suicide is not really a wish for life to end. What is it then? It is the only way a powerless person can find to make everybody else look away from his shame. The wish is not to die, but to hide ― Orson Scott Card

Rossi cast a glance towards Pip's desk as he was herded in the direction of the jet. JJ had been particularly vocal about them taking a look at what was going on in Wyoming. Having received Hotch's approval for the team to open an equivocal death investigation into the multiple apparent suicides, she was relentless in her efforts to get them moving faster. Ideally, Rossi would have liked to talk to Pip before he left, just make sure she was ok. JJ wasn't the only one that had history with teen suicide of a close friend or family member and he strongly suspected there was going to be some things in the next few days that would exhume long-buried memories.

Pip merely flapped a file in his direction, already buried in paperwork. Griffin had been off sick for three days after bravely soldiering on for nearly a week, infecting everyone he came across. The case wasn't the only reason Rossi wanted to see how she was. Pip was starting to show not just the usual signs of stress and fatigue of covering for a colleague's sickness absence. She'd been off her food when they'd gone out the previous evening and if he was right, Pip was about to be the latest victim of the filthy cold Griffin had brought to the office to share. Half the agents in White Collar were already down with it, as well as dozens of others across different departments in the building, including most of Accounting.

They were just lucky that none of the profilers had caught it yet, but it was probably only a matter time. Starting, Rossi realised with a sinking feeling, with him. If Pip was going to pass on the bug to anyone, it would be him, if she hadn't done so already.

Rossi's first prediction quickly bore fruit: less than eight hours into their stay in Wyoming, Pip's latest email confirmed that she had become, in her own words, "a snot monster". Rossi had to chuckle, despite the odd looks he got from the others. What did concern him, however, was Pip's steadfast refusal of his suggestions to take it easy. All of them felt the pressure to stop whatever it was that was happening that caused these children to die, but it felt like Pip was taking it too personally. Rossi had been convinced at the time that there was more to the relatively bland story she'd told him of her friend's suicide at fourteen, and her prickliness over the case just confirmed it. She snapped and snarled at him when he tried to phone her, almost back to the pissed off pit bull-like temperament she'd treated him to in the first few months of their association.

He had every intention of taking her out to dinner and getting her to talk once he got back but offered to delay their evening out in light of the bug she'd picked up. Pip protested of course, told him she was fine, that the worst of the cold had already passed; but that didn't stop him worrying about her on the flight home three days later. Even Emily's little fairy tale that so utterly bemused Reid failed to divert his attention for more than a minute or two.

Kids killing themselves in a game of dare, of one-upmanship with neighbouring schools. It didn't get much more twisted, and normally, Rossi would be mentally perusing Mama Rosa's menu in anticipation of dinner with Pip and a chance for both of them to let out all the hurt. That evening, he was wondering if he could remember all the steps to his mother's cure-all chicken soup recipe. Phillips had added a note at the end of his last rambling missive to the tune of "the boss looks really sick but won't go home".

In other words, Pip was being unreasonably stubborn, practically a ground state of being for her. He knew the case had touched a nerve anyway, and now Phillips thought she was running a temperature and still trying to struggle on. Once they landed, Rossi was planning on getting Pip home, making sure she stayed there for a couple of days and medicating her with chicken soup until she sloshed whenever she moved.


Pip looked dreadful. That was the first thing that crossed Rossi's mind as the team trooped tiredly back into the bullpen. She was pale, but for two hectic spots of colour on her cheeks. Her eyes were glassy, and her skin was clammy, loose hair from her braid stuck to her face and neck with sweat.

Rossi dropped everything in his office and made his way back to Pip's desk. She was the only one left in the bullpen. Phillips had probably gone home as soon as they landed, Reid and Emily had packed up and gone almost immediately, along with Garcia. Morgan was making use of his new desk down the hall to ease some of the paperwork burden on Hotch, who was of course, still around somewhere.

Rossi perched himself on the back of Pip's desk and peered at her over one of her two computer screens. Pip's shirt was stuck to her too, enough that he could see the colour of her bra through it, and he wondered just how badly off she'd have to be before she gave in.

"You need to go home," he said. "You've sent Phillips home already; the team is back. Get some rest."

Pip shook her head wearily. "No, I've got to get this finished. I'm fine…"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" interrupted Rossi. "I've attended dead bodies that looked better."

Pip managed a rough laugh. "Thanks. That makes me feel so much better," she said sarcastically, mopping her brow carelessly with a sleeve.

"Anytime," he said with a smile. "But seriously. Go. Home." Rossi punctuated his words by reaching over and removing the file Pip had been holding in her hands. He placed it firmly back on her desk. "That can wait until tomorrow. I'm sure Hotch won't mind."

"He's right, you know," said Hotch from behind them. "On all counts."

Rossi managed to avoid jumping like a startled rabbit, but only just. Hotch could move like a ninja when he wanted to, and Rossi hadn't heard him approach at all. Rossi craned his neck and spotted him standing at the railing, coat over one arm and briefcase in hand. Hotch was just on his way out, but the slightly mischievous look told Rossi that Hotch knew he'd surprised him and had set out deliberately to do so. Rossi narrowed his eyes as Hotch threaded his way through the bullpen to Pip's desk. Hotch just smiled, unconcerned at the threat of payback.

"Harker, go home," he reiterated. "You don't look at all well." He gestured to the coat over his arm. "I assumed you'd left already."

Pip groaned. "And now I'm outnumbered." She waved an admonitory finger at them both as if they were recalcitrant schoolboys in detention. "You realise this is mob rule? Ganging up on me like this?"

Rossi folded his arms and said nothing, trying to appear stern. Hotch just stared at her, apparently content that "stern" was how he looked most of the time.

She sighed. "Fine, fine. You win. Don't blame me if things aren't the way you want in the morning." Pip stood and swayed on her feet for a moment. "Oh. Ah, Dave? D'you think…d'you think you could drive me home please? I feel…a bit weird." Pip's hand blindly groped for her chair, her desk, anything to steady her balance. She found nothing. "Oh sh…"

Hotch managed to catch her as she keeled over unconscious; stopping Pip from dashing her brains out on the corner of her desk.

"Dave, call a paramedic!"

Rossi didn't need to be told twice.


"When can I leave?"

Rossi sighed and closed the door to Pip's hospital room behind him. Typical. There was no "hello", not even an acknowledgment that she'd overworked herself while battling a fever, and subsequently collapsed. No, a strident demand to leave was the first thing Pip said to him, and it was going to start a fight. He was supposed to be under strict orders not to get her worked up.

Pip had regained consciousness before the paramedics arrived, and immediately took exception to them being called. Then she'd started talking about a fire and calling out names neither Rossi nor Hotch knew. They'd ignored all her protests after that. Pip was obviously delirious, and needed medical intervention, regardless of her objections.

She objected her entire way to the ER, in between rambling desperate pleas about someone called Cody; only to pass out again in mid-rant as they wheeled her through the door. She'd been immediately dosed with an antipyretic, hooked up to a drip and admitted for observation overnight.

Her temperature had come down a little, enough that she was awake and lucid again, and able to have a visitor, but Pip wasn't going anywhere. The ER doctor had taken one look at her notes and gladly handed the task of informing Pip she was staying overnight to Rossi. It was the same doctor who had confined her to hospital for nearly a week after she'd been shot, and she was in no mood to face the wrath of Pip for a second time.

"Maybe tomorrow morning." Rossi ducked reflexively as a paper cup came sailing his way. Her aim was a little off, unsurprisingly, and the cup bounced harmlessly off the wall. He held his hands up defensively as she threatened him with another. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger!"

"You're the only one I can reach," grumbled Pip as he sat down next to her bed. "I tried to stand up, but I got all woozy again."

"That's the idea, Pip, you're not supposed to get out of bed," he replied steadily. "You had a high fever and they shot you with a sedative. They just want to make sure you get some rest."

"And how am I supposed to do that here?" she asked irritably. "I'd get more rest sleeping under my desk. Can't they just give me some antibiotics or something and let me go home?" She was almost pleading now. "I hate hospitals."

"I know. Me too," he admitted. Rossi gently took her hand. "You had me worried there for a second." When she'd fallen, it felt like his heart had first stopped, then resumed, but at triple-time. "Scared me shitless, actually."

Pip tightened her hand around his fingers and smiled. "Sorry. I was fine until I stood up. But I'm tougher than old boots, Dave, I'm not going anywhere." The sedatives were starting to kick in, her eyelids getting heavier by the second.

"Good."

"You just want my help with the new report forms," she teased, her eyes closing. "You hate change."

Rossi chuckled and felt the tight band of fear around his chest ease. If she had the wherewithal to make jokes at his expense, she was going to be ok. "True."

"Knew it. You're jus' worried you'd haveta do 'em by y'self. No' 'bout me a' all."

"You're a trouble magnet, I worry about you all the time," he disagreed with a smile. "Go to sleep."

"Dave? Don' leave m' here on m' own," she whispered. Her grip on his hand loosened as Pip finally lost her battle with the sedative.

"I'll stay with you. I promise."


It was inevitable that he fell asleep in the chair beside Pip's bed. A young nurse had tried to kick him out when visiting hours ended, but Rossi flashed his badge and bullied them into letting him stay. He had promised Pip, and he wasn't about to break that. But it had been a long day and he was tired.

Still, when he half-awoke to a gentle hand carding through his hair, all Rossi could do was murmur his approval and try and nuzzle further into the soothing contact.

A soft laugh woke him up the rest of the way. Rossi raised his head, realising it was resting on Pip's mattress. She ran her had through his hair one last time before stopping.

"If I ever need bribery material, footage of you purring and snuggling like an overgrown house cat will do perfectly," she teased.

"You're awake," mumbled Rossi, rubbing his eyes to rid them of the grittiness that always followed his attempts to sleep in peculiar places. A list which now included a plastic chair with his best friend's hospital bed as a pillow.

Pip shivered and drew the thin hospital blanket up over her shoulders. "Not by choice," she muttered.

"Did I wake you? Sorry, I don't usually snore…"

Pip snorted with amusement. "Hate to break it to you, Dave, but you do. If I let you stay on your back, you sound like a waste disposal unit with a spoon stuck in it. Usually I kick your feet and you turn over and stop."

Rossi just gaped at her. "Really?"

"Yes, really," said Pip with a smile. "Do I look like I care?"

Rossi sat up, wincing at the crackle from his spine. "Oof. I didn't intend on sleeping bent double." He glanced at his watch. Half two in the morning. Pip had been out for five hours, he for about two. Her fever had spiked again around midnight, leaving her moaning and twitching in her sleep.

"Did I wake you?" he repeated, eyes narrowing as he realised she'd avoided giving him an answer.

Pip averted her face from him and shook her head. "No," she said quietly.

Rossi catalogued Pip's body language, what little he could see since she had hidden everything below the neck under the blanket. Clenched jaw with bottom lip being thoroughly gnawed on. She was pale still, with dark circles under her eyes; testament to the hours she'd put in while under the weather. But her eyes were also red-rimmed and wouldn't meet his.

"Stop it." Now they had, he could see the ire rising in them. "No profiling."

"I don't need to be a profiler to know you had bad dreams," said Rossi gently, trying to head off the temper tantrum. "I could see that much before I dozed off myself." Pip just huffed. "You were talking about someone. Before, I mean. When you were hallucinating," he added. "Cody."

Pip shivered again, but Rossi didn't think it had anything to do with her temperature.

"Were the dreams something to do with him?"

Pip nodded and chomped down on her bottom lip, hard enough that Rossi leant over and tapped her on the chin in reprimand. Any harder and she would have drawn blood.

"You want me to guide you through it?" It was something they'd discussed many months ago while talking about Ian. Not a cognitive interview exactly, but something along the same lines. She'd refused then, but this time might be different. To Rossi's surprise, Pip nodded. "Ok. Close your eyes. Relax. I'm here, and we can stop whenever you want. Let me know when you're ready."

Rossi waited until Pip nodded again. "How old are you in the dream?" he asked, an easy place to start, because he thought he already knew.

"Fourteen," she whispered. "Cody was a little older, but not by much. We'd been fostered together before, you see, so they knew we wouldn't mind cramped quarters because we got on so well. He'd already been with the Cavanaughs for eight months when my smart mouth got me kicked out of my latest placement and Child Services had nowhere else to put me. I got his bedroom and he slept on a camp bed in the living room."

"What was it like seeing him again?"

Pip smiled absently. Her eyes were open now but she wasn't seeing the hospital room, or him. They were clouded with memory, seeing her friend again. "The first few days were brilliant. We'd not seen each other in years, and friends are hard to come by when you move around a lot. We had a lot to catch up on." The smile diminished as she continued. "But there was something wrong with him. I couldn't work out what it was, and it drove me mad. I tried everything. Threats, bribery, you name it, I got nowhere."

The smile had completely disappeared by now, replaced with a look of such heartache Rossi just wanted to pick her up and put her in his pocket to keep her safe from the world.

"And then late one night I found out what was wrong." Pip's voice broke and wavered. "I wish I hadn't! It was an accident! I didn't mean to! And I just…I ran, but I knew he'd seen me." Tears started to roll down Pip's cheeks and she brushed them away furiously. "And when I got up the next day, he was dead, and it was my fault."

Rossi captured the hand that had edged out from under the blanket and stroked soothing circles across the back of it with his thumb.

"Unless you killed him personally, I doubt you caused his death at the ripe age of fourteen." He clenched his hand around hers. "You're not a cold-blooded killer, Pip."

Months later, he would wish he'd paid more attention to the bitter, disbelieving snort of dark amusement, and the murmur that went with it, too low to be consciously heard at the time. It sounded like "if only you knew" - but of course that was impossible.

"You want to keep going?" he asked. Pip scrubbed her face dry with her free hand and sniffed most unattractively, before nodding and closing her eyes again. It wasn't to help her recall, she just didn't want to see his face as she told him. He knew her plenty well enough to know that without asking. "Ok. Back to that night. Why were you awake?"

"It was hot. Really hot, and I had trouble sleeping. The Cavanaughs didn't have aircon."

"Were the windows open?"

Pip nodded, then grimaced. "The whole place reeked of burgers. Mrs Cavanaugh always kept the windows closed because the extract fan from the takeaway place down the street blew straight at the living room, but she was away for the weekend."

"What did you do?"

"I got up for a glass of water."

"Why?"

"I thought it would cool me down a bit, so I could sleep." Pip continued without any more prodding and Rossi sat back to let her finish it in her own words. "I went into the kitchen and that's when I saw them. Mr Hollis had come over to watch the ball game with Mr Cavanaugh and stayed over on the couch. Said his wife didn't like the smell of booze on his breath. Cody…the two of them…they were…he was…"

He squeezed her hand. "Move past it, Pip. You don't need to see that again," suggested Rossi, heart breaking at the distress on her face.

Pip hesitated, and Rossi squeezed her hand again. "Cody looked terrified," she whispered, "but it obviously wasn't the first time. I-I just ran. Mr Cavanaugh came into my room in the morning to say Cody had gone and left a mess behind, and that I was to stay in my room until they'd tidied up." Pip took a shuddering breath. "I saw them wheel him out. He'd hung himself."

"None of that is your fault, Pip."

Pip opened her eyes and nodded sadly. "Yes. It is. He shoved a note under my door at some point before he...before he…" Pip cleared her throat. "He talked about being strong and how he'd managed alone…and that he couldn't live with the shame now that someone else knew what was happening. They asked me, after, if I'd known if he was depressed or anything. They asked again when I got my placement at the group home I stayed in until I aged out. I never told anyone, because he was ashamed and didn't want anyone to know. Who knows how many more boys that monster touched because I didn't?"

"Nothing you did or didn't do changed the outcome," disputed Rossi. "If Cody was that distressed that the thought of someone knowing was enough to push him into doing it, it was only a matter a time. You see that, don't you?"

Pip shrugged one shoulder but seemed to remain unconvinced. "In my dreams he accuses me of ruining things or causing hurt to countless others with my silence. Both are true."

Rossi reached over and pulled her towards him, wrapping his strong arms around her still-shivering form. Offering her comfort the only way he knew how. He could see how she'd arrived at her conclusion. As far as Pip was concerned, the logic, if guilt and fear and horror could be said to have logic; was irrefutable. Even though she'd only been a child at the time. He cursed himself for not checking in with her before they'd left for Wyoming, he'd known the case would remind of things best left undisturbed.

They stayed like that for a long time, Rossi repeating the words "it's not your fault" over and over again softly in her ear. Eventually he had to move, his back complaining at the odd position. He withdrew and straightened up to rub his protesting muscles.

Pip shuffled sideways and flipped the edge of the blanket back in a clear invitation. Rossi stared at her in disbelief.

"You've got to be kidding. There's not room enough for two!"

"Why do you think I woke you up? You want to spend the rest of the night sleeping in that chair?" she countered.

He didn't. He really didn't. Rossi toed off his shoes and climbed in beside her with a long-suffering sigh. A sigh that turned into a deep, grateful groan of relief as he was finally able to stretch out.

"Told you so," murmured Pip smugly. She turned on her side give him more room as they settled down, Rossi in his customary pose as the big spoon.

Pip was hot against him, hot and clammy. The bed was hateful compared to his own, and too small for the pair of them to really lay comfortably. Noise from outside still filtered in, and the ever-present hospital smell permeated everything. It was the most uncomfortable situation Rossi could ever recall trying to relax in.

He was asleep in seconds.


The smell of coffee drifted past his nose. Rossi drew in a deep breath. It was a good blend, not the hospital crap. Rich and dark, hot and strong, and it smelled wonderful.

He carefully opened one eye a fraction to see if he could maybe see where the coffee was, and whether it's owner would notice if he stole a mouthful. Maybe two. There was nothing to indicate caffeine in the immediate vicinity other than the smell, so he let his eye drop closed again, taking another lungful of the scent.

Damn, that stuff smelled good. A smell almost rich enough to chew.

"Comfortable, Dave?"

Rossi shot bolt upright, deaf to Pip's spluttered protests as her pillow sat up and took the blanket with him. He stared in horror at Hotch, who was sat by the side of the bed with sardonic eyebrow fully engaged and two cups of coffee in his hands.

Oh God. He was fifty-fucking-three and yet Rossi could already feel the blush starting round about his neckline and spreading rapidly upwards. As innocent as it had been, his boss had caught him in bed with a colleague. The hospital bed of a sick colleague, no less. Hotch was going to murder him. Slowly and painfully; then he'd decorate the office wall with his hide as a warning to others.

"I was expecting you to still be here," said Hotch disapprovingly. "I wasn't expecting to find you entwined together like a pair of nesting kittens."

That was the second time in…Rossi stole an incredulous glance at his watch. Second time in less than six hours that he'd been compared to a cat in some fashion. He held out his hand for the coffee, a faint pleading look on his now-flaming face. Hotch wouldn't be so cruel as to make him explain before he'd woken up the caffeine-addicted mass in his skull that masqueraded as a brain…would he?

Hotch clearly thought about it before he relented, eventually holding out one of the cups towards him. Rossi grabbed it in relief.

"Hey!" he exclaimed as Pip immediately divested him of his morning nectar and took a large mouthful of it herself.

Pip wrinkled her face in distaste as she swallowed. "Blech! No sugar."

The lack of sugar didn't stop her taking another long swallow of his coffee.

"Hey! Thief! That's mine!" Rossi cried, stealing the coffee back. "You're sick, you're not supposed to have any anyway." He curled his arm around the cup protectively.

"As charming as this exchange is, I'm still here and still waiting for an explanation."

Pip and Rossi both turned to look at Hotch.

"What?" asked Pip belligerently. "I couldn't stand him complaining about how uncomfortable that chair is, so I offered to share."

"That bed is hardly big enough for two, Harker," disputed Hotch.

He turned the full force of the eyebrow on her, and Rossi breathed out carefully, grateful it was no longer aimed at him. He would let Pip deal with Hotch, and hopefully the teenage blush would subside before he had to participate in the conversation again. Rossi buried his nose in the coffee, as if trying to hide.

"Neither's my sofa," shot Pip, "and we've fallen asleep together on that more than once."

Looking at Hotch's face, Rossi wasn't sure that was a good argument. Hotch's lips thinned and he let out a long breath through his nose. Both signs of frustration and annoyance.

"I had nightmares," whispered Pip in the silence that developed.

Compassion bloomed in Hotch's expression and finally he nodded, willing to dismiss the sight he'd walked in on as purely platonic. Rossi relaxed a little, sure he was safe from any immediate fallout.

"How do you feel this morning?" asked Hotch.

Pip barely let him finish before replying. "I'm fine."

Rossi snorted disbelievingly and elbowed her sharply in the ribs. Pip glared at him, but Rossi just shrugged. "The gorgon stare doesn't work on me," he said easily. "Hasn't for years. Try again."

"Urgh, you're such a…a mother hen!" complained Pip. "Stubborn, aggravating control freak…"

Rossi grinned. "Takes one to know one. Looked in a mirror lately?"

"No, I'm pretty sure I look ghastly." She narrowed her eyes at his coffee. "A real friend would share their coffee…" she added in a wheedling tone.

"You've already had some, it's my turn," disputed Rossi, taking another quick mouthful in case she swiped it again. "Besides, I think a real friend would rather point out that lying to the boss about how you are, especially after collapsing in the office in front of him, isn't a good idea," replied Rossi, nodding his head in Hotch's direction.

"Pest. You're infuriating, y'know that?" she muttered to Rossi before turning to Hotch. "I'm shattered. I'm cold and uncomfortable, and I'd kill for a decent coffee. But mostly, I'm just tired and I want to go home." Pip levelled a disgusted look at Rossi. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," he deadpanned. They glared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to break. Rossi caved first, a smile creeping across his face despite best efforts otherwise. Pip crowed triumphantly and they both started to shake with suppressed mirth.

Hotch looked between the two of them still sat together in Pip's bed, hints of amusement flickering around his face.

"I'm going to see if I can find a nurse to check you over, just to make sure you're really alright," he said, holding up a hand to stall Pip's objections. "If they say you can leave, I'll organise your discharge paperwork." Hotch stood to go and smiled faintly as Pip nodded eagerly. "See if you two can look a little less…inappropriate by the time I get back – perhaps more like federal employees than horny teenagers, hmm?"

The door barely closed behind him before they both burst into gales of laughter, clutching each other as the hysteria took the strength from their limbs.