Caught in the Tangled Web
Darkness overtook them as the Gulfstream jet carried the BAU team back from another successful case. Reid was laid out on the sofa while Seaver curled up on one of the seats. Rossi wondered if she realized that she snored as he walked down the aisle and set two glasses, each containing two generous fingers of Scotch, on the table before taking the seat across from Morgan. The younger man's eyes were closed but Rossi knew he wasn't asleep. Nor was he listening to his Ipod, his usual means of relaxing, of coming down from the intensity and adrenaline rush of a case. Rossi slid one of the glasses across the table toward his friend, "Thought you could use one of these."
Morgan opened his eyes, looked at the drink and then raised his eyes to the older man. "Is that what you think I need Dave?"
"Not really," Rossi gave him a knowing grin. "I think you might need to talk."
"What's to talk about?"
Rossi took a sip of his Scotch. "Oh I don't know, perhaps what happened between you and your aunt."
Morgan didn't reply, but instead continued to stare at the brown liquid in the glass.
"You know William Hightower was right. Hope is paralyzing," Rossi said as he slowly turned his glass on the table. "Bad news does stop us for a time, but we deal with it and move on. Hope sometimes stops us from moving on. That's what had happened to your aunt."
"I know that Rossi," Morgan sighed.
"Then I think you need to give yourself a break."
Morgan raised his eyes again," What do you mean?"
"I can see what's going on in your mind." Ross sipped his Scotch again, "The guilt you feel."
"Well shouldn't I?" Morgan raised his voice momentarily.
"Look kid, you did what you did for your aunt. You did it for unselfish reasons, for love, so she could finally get some closure go on."
"Did I Rossi? The DNA didn't match. Blake didn't recognize Cindy's picture, yet I go out and tell my aunt that he identified it. Was it to help her, or was it so I'd quit getting those damned phone calls?
"Derek, you did it for her own good," Rossi said vehemently.
"I lied Rossi. I lied to someone I love. I let her think her daughter was dead. What kind of a person does that, lets someone they care about think that someone they love is dead when they know it might not be true? What kind of closure can she get from a lie? How do I ever face her again? How do I look at myself in the mirror after that?
Hotch put down the pen he'd been doing paperwork with and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He turned to look out the window, but in the darkness, saw only his own reflection. Morgan was right, he thought, before he reached over and pulled down the shade.