The Tribe- 1:16
Harita's POV
"Sean! Hey!" I exclaimed as I skated through the glass doors. I stopped and picked up my skateboard to give him a hug. I saw Penelope and Elle looking at us from the corner of my eye.
"Harita!" Sean returned the hug back.
"Looking for Aaron?" I asked as he nodded. "Here, follow me. Let me just put my stuff down."
"Yeah, take your time." He responded. He followed me and I put my stuff at my desk.
"So, you're going to tell him?" I whispered to Sean as we made our way up the stairs to Hotch's office.
"Yeah."
"Well, good luck. If Aaron doesn't support you, I'll beat his ass up." I threatened
"Thanks." Sean chuckled. As he was about to knock on Hotch's door, I stopped him.
"Hey, no matter what, I want you to know that I support you."
"You always are my number one supporter." I patted Sean's back and made my way to the girls, where there was a crowd forming around Elle's desk. I have known Sean for a long time, he was like my older brother. We've talked on the phone occasionally, but last time we talked, he told me about this cooking job in New York he wanted to take instead of continuing Georgetown.
"You know, you're lucky that you know Sean. I wish I knew him personally." Penelope sighed, lovingly.
"I'm confused. May I ask why?"
"Don't you see it, the blonde hair, the smooth skin, the perfect height." I cringed.
"One, that's disgusting, and two, I'm practically gay."
"Here he comes." Garcia pointed at Hotch's door, Sean was coming out of it and Hotch was following him.
"That's Hotch's brother?" JJ asked. "I don't see it."
"Sean, listen to me. All I'm saying is that you're 25 years old-" Aaron tried to speak calmly, but he was cut off by Sean.
"You know what? Don't profile me Aaron!" Sean stormed away.
"Now I see it." JJ realized.
"I still don't."
"That's why your the gay one." JJ patted my shoulder as she left.
"It's bi!" I yelled after her. I looked at Hotch, and we connected eyes for a brief moment. He turned around and slammed his office door.
Damit.
...
"Terra Mesa, New Mexico. Five dead, all from Mesa university. No signs of sexual assault and no sign of theft." JJ announced as she handed us the case file. We were all gathered in the conference room, and I was munching on some pretzels.
"Five 19 year olds, minimal defensive wounds. One of them was impaled in a 6-foot wooden pole." Morgan read.
"Who wanna torture five college freshmen?" Elle questioned.
"Phycos. They weren't tied up and no one escaped?" I asked.
"No single unsub could have exerted as much control over so many people." Spencer recalled.
"So you think there were more than two?" Elle asked.
"I think we're looking at a pack." Gideon corrected.
"A pack?" JJ asked.
"Three or more that kill in unison, as in nature of the group dynamic dictates, the pack survival is depending on their ability to hunt successfully." Reid stated.
"And, as in nature a pack will keep on killing until it runs out of prey or is stopped." Hotch added.
"Stopped by what?" I asked.
"A stronger pack." Gideon answered.
…
*CUE INTRO*
(For one of the 'pictures' in the intro, imagine Harita fidgeting with a pen, looking at a map with her left eyebrow raised.)
…
"Sheriff I'm Special Agent Hotchner, these are Agents Reid, Harita, and Gideon." Hotch introduced us to the sheriff as got out of the SUV and headed towards the crime scene.
"I was hoping there were more of you!" The sheriff exclaimed.
"The other agents went straight to the station house to look at the victims' files." Hotch explained. "Has Forensics had any luck?"
"The county CSU went through for prints and trace evidence, They said with all the work, by tramping here looking at footprints would be a waste. Come on." The sheriff led us through the house.
"Bodies were almost completely skinned, yet there's so little blood." I observed, looking at the walls of the house.
"I think I know why. The unsub avoided areas of skin on the wrist and the throat, areas where the veins and arteries are closest to the surface." Spencer stated.
"Why would they do that?" The sheriff asked.
"They didn't want them to bleed out." Gideon answered.
"These kids were skinned alive." Spencer added as we headed into the next room.
"Two cases of beer, two sleeping bags." Gideon pointed.
"There's a third sleeping bag upstairs." The sheriff announced.
"Everything you need for a night of teenage romance." I added.
"It's unlikely that two couples brought a fifth wheel to take notes." Gideon observed.
"Sheriff it's possible there was a third girl here, a sixth victim." Hotch concluded.
"I'll get my deputies to canvas the area, see if anybody saw a girl."
"You said there was another one outside?" I asked as the sheriff nodded. We followed him outside to see a stick impaled to the ground, marking how the person was killed.
"He was like the others. Coroner said from the amount of blood, he was alive when they impaled him."
"I know this is gonna sound strange, but the way the victims were flayed alive, mutilated and now the impalement display of this last victim. These were all war rituals of the Native American Plains Indians." Reid stated.
"That means something to you Sheriff?" Hotch asked.
"Say, it does! Everything you see around, this is Apache land! This whole basin is a sacred burial ground, and was the side of a number of massacres as I understand."
"So this development is on their land?"
"It was their land, but they didn't have the money or the inclination to build on it, so the town seized half of it."
"Last year the Supreme Court ruled that cities can use eminent domain authority to seize and repossess undeveloped private land for private development." Spencer stated.
"Pretty sad." I sympathized.
"And now the town is looking for investors to build on the other half. The Apache are fighting it of course in court."
"There've been any violence until now?" Gideon asked.
"Nothing like this." Sheriff responded.
"Do you know anybody on the reservation capable of this?"
"I don't know, reservation's federal jurisdiction."
"Sounds like we are going on a field trip. I got the snacks!" I ran off to the SUV.
...
"John Blackwolf, do you know him?" Hotch asked as we got buckled in. He just got off the phone from Garcia.
"Indian Activist." The sheriff answered. "He's been in a little trouble related to his activism but nothing violent, not around here."
"Should we call the reservation police and alert them?" Hotch asked.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Blackwolf is the reservation police."
...
There was a woman standing on the sidewalk as we got out of the car. The sheriff headed towards her and introduced us.
"Jane Bear, these are FBI agents. Gideon, Hotchner, Harita, and Reid." We all waved or nodded. "Miss Bear is the president of the tribal council and principal of the reservation school."
"President and a principal, must be a busy woman!" Gideon exclaimed.
"We're out here on our own Agent Gideon, we all do our part." Miss Bear replied.
"Is John inside?" The sheriff asked.
"Is this about the Terra Mesa killings?" Miss Bear questioned.
"They just wanna talk to him."
"John Blackwolf has done more to help his tribe than anyone. Jim, how many times have you called him to find lost hikers? How many drunken campers has he tracked down for the park service? John is a peaceful man."
"Who would not hesitate to defend this tribe with force, if attacked." The sheriff argued.
"What does this have to do with Terra Mesa?"
"Well, a lot, if John considers the building of the Terra Mesa development on Apache land to be an attack." Hotch answered.
"The developers have paid a lot of the families to leave the reservation. So many families have gone now that we can barely fill a single class." Miss Bear said as we walked inside the classroom, where there was a man, presumably John Blackwolf, teaching some students about, what I think is, Native American history.
"Forcing the dene, the Apache nation to abandon their homes and live in government controlled internment camps. Does anybody know the last tribe to surrender to the american government?" John asked.
"Chiricahuas." Reid whispered as I smacked his side.
"As much as I love the big brain of yours, now's not the time. Please don't embarrass us." I whispered back.
"It was the Chiricahuas Apache." A girl answered.
"And does anybody know the name of the last leader of the Apaches?" John asked.
"Geronimo." Reid whispered as I glared at him.
"Geronimo." Another student answered.
"That's right. He was caught by the US army five times! But the Ga'he had given him so much strength, he escaped. Each time. Samuel, tell the men from the FBI who the Ga'he are." John ordered.
"The Ga'he are mighty spirits who dwell in desert caves." Reid answered for him, and I hid my face behind my hand in embarrassment.
"Reid, is your name Samuel?" Hotch interrupted.
"Sorry." Reid apologized.
"This is what I mean." I whispered to him.
"Are the Ga'he good spirits or bad spirits?" Gideon asked.
"They're both, like men." John responded. I chuckled.
"I'm liking this guy a lot more." I whispered to Reid.
"I'll take over for you John." Miss Bear said. John nodded and took his coat, badge, and a knife with his sheath on, and followed us back outside.
"Blackwolf, I'm agent Gideon, these are agents Hotchner, Harita and Reid." Gideon introduced.
"You look like a college professor." John pointed to Gideon. "You look like his student." John pointed to Reid. "You look like an older teenager." John pointed to me. "You, you look like FBI." John pointed to Hotch.
"Forget what I said before." I whispered to Reid, talking about the insult he made.
"We're with the behavioral analysis unit." Hotch responded.
"A profiler should know better." Blackwolf sneered.
"How's that?" Hotch asked.
"We don't do massacres. You do."
"Me personally?"
"Your government."
"Mr. Blackwolf, we'd like you to take a look at these photos and help us figure out how these kids were killed." Reid handed a bunch of photos of the crime scene to John.
"You're not asking because I'm a cop?"
"No. We're asking because you're an expert on native american culture." Gideon answered.
"I don't base my opinion on pictures Mr. Hotchner. I have to walk the ground."
...
"We should start inside, Forensics says the outside has been contaminated from all the construction droppings." Hotch announced as we walked towards the house.
"Of all the native american tribes, the Apache were most renowned for their tracking ability. It was said that they could track a man or animal through any condition by simply noticing the slightest disturbance in the environment." Reid stated.
"He's profiling the dirt." Hotch corrected as we stopped walking.
"I notice you don't carry a gun." Reid observed Blackwolf.
"21 feet." Blackwolf responded.
"What?" Reid asked.
"Ask Agent Hotchner, he is the real gunhand."
"Why do you say that?" Hotch asked.
"You carry two guns."
"I'm pretty sure he's psychic." I responded as we kept on walking.
"The maximum distance an attacker with a knife can close, in the time it takes to react, draw your sidearm and fire is 21 feet." Hotch answered.
"Inside 21 feet, I win, outside 21 I have other options beside shooting a man." Blackwolf added.
"Like negotiating." Reid suggested.
"Like running." Blackwolf corrected.
"Why do you say I carry two guns?" Hotch asked.
"Your right instep print's heavier than your left. And since you don't appear to have a clubbed right foot-"
"You can't tell that from my foot prints, there's no perceptible difference between them." Hotch insisted.
"Your problem isn't with your prints, It's with your perception." Blackwolf answered.
"Jesus, this guy is acting like a bad bitch." I whispered to myself as we walked towards the back of the house. Blackwolf crouched down and took the picture of the blood stain. He compared it to the real blood stain.
"What do you see?" I asked.
"There's a saying : 'Once too much blood has been spilled on the same ground, ground develops a thirst for it'. This is all consistent with native american warfare rituals, but it's Apache." Blackwolf finalized. "Whoever did this carried out the most brutal practices of the Apache, Navajo, Comanche, Pueblo, and Sioux. No one tribe ever did them all, not like this. Real Indians would know that. This wasn't Indians. And if you want to figure out who did this, it might help to know there was a sixth person in the house."
"Why do you say that?" Hotch asked.
"Female, 90-95 pounds, size 6 shoe, fallen arches, she was walking alone when she was ambushed by two men."
"We also believe there were at least three suspects." I added.
"Three? Yeah. Two over here plus at least six over there! Because while these two carry this girl struggling to their vehicle to the east, at least six others ran single file to hide their numbers from the west."
"So you're saying that they were eight?" I asked.
"At least."
"And one hostage." Gideon added.
"Wow, this guy is good."
...
We headed back to the station to give the profile
"Each torture ritual had specific religious significance, but only to the tribe that practiced it. It's highly unlikely that anyone tribe will mix them all together like this. Meaning? Whoever did this obviously had knowledge of native american culture, but they had absolutely no practical understanding of it." Reid started off.
"What we do know is this pack shares a singular vision. Whether it is a religious faith, racist ideology, or political manifesto, each member of this unit has surrendered its individual identity to the group." I stated.
"It's the act of kidnapping that reveals the nature of this pack." Hotch specified.
"From the german red brigade, to Munich olympics, to Iraqi insurgents, the act of kidnapping is a characteristic of political terrorist groups." Elle added.
"We could be looking for a domestic terrorist organization, like the Symbionese Liberation Army that kidnapped Patty Hurst." Hotch suggested.
"But these are Indians, right?" An officer asked.
"I seriously doubt it, the torture and mutilation you see here are very confused imitations of warfare practiced by native american tribes." Blackwolf answered.
"Are you trying to tell us that Indians wouldn't be so brutal?"
"No, I'm saying that Indians wouldn't be so confused."
...
"Can we really be sure he's right?" The sheriff asked. We were in a room that the PD provided us, discussing some details, and I was eating some Almonds, throwing some to Elle.
"Well I'm fairly certain Blackwolf wasn't in on it, but you don't need to be Einstein to realize these people were Indians, or there are people that made it look like Indians." Gideon answered.
"Why would anyone want to frame these Indians?" Elle questioned.
"Possibly to turn public opinion against them, Sheriff you mentioned the Apache were fighting the land grab in court. Public opinion would be a significant factor." JJ responded.
"Is there anyone besides the developers, who might be vehemently opposed to the Indians getting their land back?" Hotch asked.
"The ADU." The sheriff responded.
"Who's that?" I asked.
"American Defense Union, founded by a local businessman named Roy Minton, They're like the minutemen who patrol the borders although these guys blame everything on the Indians."
"Who are the members?" Elle asked.
"Minton's people are mostly quiet, construction workers, building supply vendors, working class people that believe Indians are standing in the way of progress, and commerce."
"Whether they feel the Indians are standing in the way of progress, or profit, or they're just genuine racists, I think Minton and the ADU are strong suspects." JJ speculated.
"Let's bring Minton in." Hotch ordered.
...
Once Morgan and Hotch were finished interviewing Minton, they came outside, and boy were they pissed.
"If Minton is as fanatical as he pretends to be, he wouldn't file lawsuits." Morgan stated.
"Or organize labor unions." Elle explained.
"The Indians are keeping Minton and the members of the ADU from making a lot of money on the development and construction of the Apache land." Hotch explained.
"I agree. He's using racist ideology to cover simple greed. Sheriff, I'd like you to put Minton under surveillance." Gideon ordered.
"You think he's guilty?" The sheriff asked.
"Not likely, but we've just given Minton reason to believe that some faction of the ADU may have taken matters into their own hands, and Minton may lead us to them." Hotch answered as Morgan's phone rang. He walked away to talk to it, possibly Garicia. After a few minutes he came back.
"Think we might have found our sixth victim."
"Let's go and pay them a visit." Hotch said.
...
Morgan and I searched Ingrid's, the sixth victim's belongings to see if there was any connection, while Hotch, Elle, and JJ went to talk to the father. Elle and Hotch came back a few minutes later to talk.
"Fathers blame themselves when a child is kidnapped. As irrational as it is, it's typical. This guy didn't do that, why not?" Hotch asked.
"In these situations, innocent parents, they don't hide their feelings of guilt, while guilty parents do." Elle answered.
"So we're thinking this guy's guilty?" I asked.
"Of something."
...
It was late at night, well technically very early in the morning when Hotch got a call. It was from the kidnappers who kidnapped Ingrid. They said that her father paid them to kidnap her. So, we went to their location.
"Don't move!" Morgan yelled as we got out of the SUV, pointing our guns at them. It was two males, and they were on their knees, with their shirts off.
"Hey, don't shoot." They yelled.
"Where's the girl?" Hotch asked.
"She's in the van." Elle ran over to the van, unlocked the doors.
"Got her." Elle yelled.
…
We got the story. Basically, the two guys were hired by Mr. Griesen, Ingrid's dad, saying they should kidnap Ingrid and he would come by the next morning to collect her. They did as told, but he didn't show. So once they saw him on the news, they called us. Fortunately for them, they didn't kill the other victims. Hotch ordered Morgan, Spencer, and I to go and talk to Ingrid. Just as we were about to go into her hospital room, Morgan got a call from Garicia. We told him we could take it and he should answer the call.
"Hello Ingrid." I greeted. "I'm Dr. Harita, and this Dr. Spencer Reid. We're with the FBI, and I was wondering if you could-"
"Griesen Ingrid. 943239487." Ingrid said, monotone.
"Excuse me?" Spencer asked.
"Griesen Ingrid. 943239487." We left the room and went to find Morgan. We found him and told him what was going on. He told us that Ingrid hasn't been in school for over a year, but she had good grades. She just left. We also found out she has been in a cult. Morgan called Hotch to tell him about the situation.
…
It was the next day, and a family of 5 and an officer were murdered. Morgan and Hotch went to interview Mr. Griesen. What he told them was that after her mother died, Ingrid was acting weird first month into her first semester. She kept on saying weird phrases like 'You don't belong here.' or 'Grandfather thought the ways of Ga'he.
"We're looking for the cult leader. Typically men between the age of 25 and 35 with a high level of intelligence. Sociopathic underachiever, with an extremely abusive childhood, and obviously someone with an interest in and affinity for apache culture and rituals." Reid said to the officers. We were telling them who to look for.
"Look for males with criminal records for lesser type crimes : drug possession, petty theft." I stated.
"What about school records? The victims from the first crime scene went to Terra Mesa university, maybe the leader was there, too." JJ suggested.
"Great. Look for students who studied native american cultures extensively." Elle added.
"We need to do it all. With this second strike, it could be a spree." Morgan warned.
...
Blackwolf and Hotch came back from the crime scene and started to tell us some things they learned from Ingrid.
"The deadlands are on the southern edge of the western tract. You said cults like this seek out remote places, yes?" Blackwolf asked.
"They like to isolate their followers and give them freedom to create their own societies." Hotch answered.
"I got it." Morgan announced.
"It doesn't get any more remote than the deadlands." Blackwolf stated.
"How big an area is this place?" I asked.
"About 100 square miles."
"We need to narrow it down." Gideon chuckled.
"We might just have our cult leader. It's a guy named Jackson Cally. He was expelled from TMU six months before the others." Morgan stated.
"What for?" Hotch asked.
"Drug possession, Peyote. Terra mesa, at the last in a string of colleges, he studied religion and native american culture in every school and he was in a seminar in native american culture with Ingrid Griesen." Morgan read
"That's how they know so much about me. I've been a guest lecturer in that seminar for the past 4 years." Blackwolf recalled.
"If Cally's our cult leader, we need more information on him. Have Garcia pull every shred of Cally's life out of the system." Hotch ordered.
"She's already pulling it."
"Do we know he's still in the area?"
"He was arrested for trespassing on a bunch of motel properties, breaking into unoccupied rooms, but his last known address turned up cold."
"Most cults don't have any legitimate means of paying rent. They tend to seek out abandoned, previously standing structures." Gideon reminded.
"Like Manson's Spahn ranch." I stated.
"There's an abandoned motel off route 29, right in the middle of the deadlands." Morgan said as we gathered our stuff.
"I'll stay with Reid, and we'll pull as much as we can on Cally." Gideon said.
…
We got Jackson Cally, but all he told us is that the others went hunting.
"Go ahead, Reid." Hotch put his phone on speaker.
"Simply another sad but unremarkable statistic. Aside from the fact that he had an IQ of 189."
"Any criminal record?" Hotch asked.
"At 18 he spent 22 months in prison for auto theft, I just spoke to the warden at the prison, said when he was there, he found religion and began preaching to his fellow inmates. And that he once convinced a mass murderer he was doing time with to beat to death an inmate that was threatening Cally."
"Ever since he was a child, this guy just survived on cunning, force of personality." Gideon added.
"He spent 22 months in the clink, was released and then bounced from university to university, studying, you guessed it, native american cultures."
"Okay, thanks." Hotch ended the call.
"What's his connection to the apache?" Elle asked.
"Aside from taking your class, nothing that they could find. With sociopaths like Cally, there is no connection. If it hadn't been apache, he would've found some other culture to attract and manipulate his followers." Hotch stated.
"Like Manson, Cally has been forced to become an expert profiler of sorts. He reads the people around him, he finds a way in, and then he brainwashes them to serve his needs." Morgan explained.
"And the only way to figure out his game is to play it, I'm gonna give him exactly what he wants." Hotch announced.
"What's that?" I asked.
"An audience." Hotch said as we headed inside.
"Mr. Cally, I'm special agent Aaron Hotchner with the FBI." Hotch introduced.
"You know, I spent my whole life talking to cops and doctors. Something different about you, you're not just a cop, are you?" Cally asked.
"You're very perceptive." Hotch responded.
"So, what are you?"
"I'm a profiler."
"So am I." Cally added. "Your colleagues respect you a great deal, looking to you to find all the answers. Leadership is a grave responsibility."
"Well they don't call me grandfather."
"Well, in my tribe, grandfather is simply another word for teacher."
"Did you teach your tribe to murder?" Hotch asked.
"No, I don't teach murder. I teach love. Love of land, love of ancestors, love of the tribe. These trespassers poison the land. The Apache will soon remember who they are and they will hunt these trespassers off their land, until no one but the Apache remain."
"You think you speak for the apache, but you're nothing but a coward. And a killer." Blackwolf corrected.
"I haven't killed anyone."
"Do you think that your little tribe is going to wage a war with all the white people in this state?" Hotch asked.
"Pretty soon, we won't have to."
"Why is that?"
"What's going to happen when the angry white men come to the doors of your children blaming you for the killing of their people? What are you going to do, call the cops? No. you're going to string them up. You're going to put their heads on poles and rape their women, just like the savage animal you really are. Like the save animal your father was before they shot him down." Blackwolf grabbed Cally by the throat and pushed him up against the wall. If it wasn't in this kind of situation, I would consider it kinky. But it was different. Instead, I ran and pushed Blackwolf off of him. Once everything got calm, we went outside, handing Cally into the custody of the officers.
"Let me in with him alone. I'll get him talking." Blackwolf reasoned.
"You've done more than we could've hoped for." Hotch argued. "You guys take Cally down to the sheriff's office." The three of us nodded.
"You tell that man he's welcome on my reservation anytime!" Blackwolf yelled.
...
"Blackwolf got Cally to reveal his true nature, he's a racist. None of this was for the sake of the apache." Morgan said. We were back at the station, and I was snacking on a Clif bar.
"Never was. It was always about Cally. It was about power and manipulation." Gideon added.
"Charles Manson claimed that he ordered his followers to kill whites in order to initiate a race war. Something he referred to as helter-skelter." Spencer stated.
"And he believed in the aftermath of helter-skelter, the blacks, who he deemed inferior, would need a white man to lead them." I recalled.
"There was a large cache of guns missing from Minton's house." Elle announced.
"Why? Why would cally suddenly need guns? His whole MO is to fight a war using the native american methods." Morgan asked.
"Maybe he isn't trying to fight a war, maybe he's trying to start one." Gideon suggested.
"The first attack was designed to look like Indians." Spencer recalled.
"In an attempt to manipulate the ADU to retaliate against the reservation. But they didn't." Morgan stated.
"Because we had them under surveillance." I pointed out.
"So Cally tried to provoke them further by killing the head of the ADU, Minton and his family." Elle reminded.
"Right, but that didn't work either so now he wants to attack the other side." Morgan added.
"He's trying to provoke the Indians by staging an ADU attack against them. Call Blackwolf. We need to get to the reservation." Gideon ordered.
…
Once we got to the school, we found Hotch and Blackwolf, sitting on the stairs. Next to them were 4 people tied up, possibly the unsubs.
"The children?" Gideon asked as we got out of the car.
"They're fine. We got them out before they got here. We took down these four." Hotch responded.
"Without firing a shot?" Spencer asked.
"Captain America here shot number 5." Blackwolf argued.
"You're welcome. Number 6 is cut up pretty bad, I don't think he's gonna make it."
"At least I didn't shoot him." Blackwolf murmured.
"I think I'd rather be shot." Morgan responded.
"I second that." I added.
"There's an old apache saying : 'You can take many paths to get to the same place.'" Hotch said.
...
We were on the plane back, and I sat next to Hotch.
"Hey, maybe you should go and visit Sean in NY. You know, not all of us want to be the same thing. I didn't want to be an FBI Agent at first. I wanted to be a mud maker." I lectured.
"A mud maker?" Hotch questioned.
"Yeah, a person who made mud. My mom told me that only on special days, mud would appear after rain, and those were the good days, so I wanted to be the person who made those good days."
"Yeah, you do, just not as a mud maker."
"Who says not?" I chuckled. "Oh, also I got a new song to show you." That caught everyone's attention. They all turned around and faced us. Here's the thing. I am the queen of pranks. Just watch. I played the song, and for the beginning, it was just the rhythm.
"This song is vivacious. I like the beat." Hotch complimented as I smirked.
"BOY, THIS PUSSY TALK EN-"
"WAIT!" Hotch yelled, interrupting my yelling/singing session to, you guessed it, 'Pussy Talk' by City Girls. Everyone laughed, besides Hotch. He paused the song and looked at me disappointed. Then he looked at the others. Then glared at Morgan and Elle
"Okay, which one of you showed her that song. You have until 3." Hotch threatened as I bursted out laughing.
This wasn't my favorite episode to 'write' but the ending was fun. Credits to blakelikesbagels on TikTok for the inspo at the end.
Toodles,
HernameisBurrito