I own nothing but the original characters I'll be introducing, including Christopher Drake. With that said, time to talk about a few key changes for this story. The first being Reid having some changes, like him not being at risk for schizophrenia.
Second is that Elle is still on the team thanks to John, Reid's sponsor from Elephant's Memory. This is done because I enjoyed her character and felt like they could've used her in certain situations.
Third is that there will be some changes, both major and minor, over the course of the story. Currently, I've got plans for all of season four and half of season five. Current plans for season six may be set up in the others, but no guarantees.
Christopher Drake stared out at the almost deserted street, watching as the streetlights illuminated a soft portion of the foot traffic. The soft green eyes staring at the darkened sections, as if they would attack the pedestrians. He knew it was a laughable thought, brought on from years of seeing how bad things could be.
'But,' he silently mused, 'the darkness is what the light penetrates. Liberating warmth and happiness from the tyranny of the dark.'
Yet it didn't always happen like that. He knew from personal experience. But he had a solemn promise to keep, one made from years of friendship and familial bonds forming. So once more unto the breach with him. Eighteen years of experience watching as drugs and rapes and murders plagued his childhood. Paired with the six years of serving in the military and four years of police work, all before joining the bureau. Knowing the anguish of reliving each and every detail of the night that had once broken him. But now, it fueled his desire.
Erin Strauss allowed a soft sigh to escape from her lips as she read the latest report. The Unit Supervisor, Assistant Director John Edmund, had been pushing her to add more members to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Much to her chagrin, he didn't seem to care about her reservations about it. Especially for Hotchner's team. They were the alpha team, yes, but they were also problematic. In the past year and a half almost, Derek Morgan was arrested for homicide, Elle Greenaway was shot in her own home, barely able to return, and almost left during a case. The only reason she didn't was because Edmund called her for a consult. Not to mention that Spencer Reid, the youngest of the team, was held captive by an unsub.
'At the same time,' she thought, 'it's easy to attribute it to me disliking or hating them.'
It was a bitter thought, but also easy to see how it could be viewed as such. The truth was that Boston took out six agents, and scarred so many people. Jason Gideon struggled to deal with his guilt, burying himself into birds and work. Hotchner took over as the Unit Chief and lost his marriage.
It also forced David Rossi out of retirement. At first he was just a consultant, but then Hankel happened. AD Edmund brought him in full time to fill the void left by Gideon's leaving. He heard about the positive drug test for Reid and went to bat for him. Even before she knew what was going to happen to the soul of the team.
Much to her surprise, Edmund spoke to Hotchner, leaving a card with him to be delivered to Reid under anonymity. She assumed it was for a rehab facility. Both men were vague in their answers and as to why Reid was missing. But she learned a long time ago that it's better to not know some things, as knowing them would destroy any future career opportunities.
"Ma'am" her secretary called, "there's a Christopher Drake here to meet you."
"Send him in." A moment later, he walked in, dressed up in a form fitting suit. His green eyes penetrating hers, while also conveying strength and guilt. He had a military style haircut, and allowed a little bit of stubble to cover his jaw and chin.
"Ma'am." He greeted her, letting a soft, distinct accent color his soft tone. She motioned for him to take a seat. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for this opportunity." He gave her a soft smile in an attempt to ease her worries.
"The pleasure is ours, Mister Drake. Now, tell me a little bit about yourself."
"Well, my parents are divorced, and I've got no clue as to where they are. On top of that, I had to leave Albuquerque due to personal reasons. As in, I was too close to the last case I worked. What better place to work than the BAU?"
Erin gave a sly grin at the answer. "Well, from what I can see, you were only close to the last victim. Not the entire case. Now, I don't need to be a Profiler to realize that something is off with that. Not to mention the fact that it's been a while since they closed the case. So I recommend telling me the truth about the case. Otherwise you'll be rejected from the BAU." Drake let out a soft sigh, before looking back at the Section Chief.
"Veronica was my girlfriend. She wasn't the last victim, but the first. Nobody realized it until after I left. More evidence supported the fact that it was a serial killer, but their leads dried up after he stopped. I'm the only one who still considered him a threat, but nobody wants to believe it. So either I stay there and have no chance to stay in law enforcement, or I leave. Surely someone of your skills can see the smarter decision."
"What I can see is someone trying to throw themselves into an unstable work schedule. All to escape the pain of losing the person who you loved. Am I wrong?" Chris just smiled, shaking his head.
"Not to escape the pain, but to help ease the pain of others. Something that Cooper did for me. Him and Rawson listened and allowed me to vent. The BAU will let me do that for others, while also giving me an opportunity to prevent another day like April Fourth."
"Why not try to join a red cell team?"
"Simple. I want to earn everyone's trust, and Agent Hotchner has a reputation for being a hard person to earn trust from." She nodded in understanding. Drake didn't want people to assume that he was given a position. He had a reputation of being a hard worker, but some were jealous. In the five, almost six years, of being in the bureau, he had been instrumental in the capture of a few notorious criminals.
His Section Chief from Albuquerque was very forthcoming with the praises. Speaking about the amount of times Drake slept in the offices while dealing with gun running cases to his attempts at trying to persuade the youths to avoid the wrong crowds. Something that she knew was personal for him. Drake was also used by the Hostage Rescue Team when necessary, knowing that his past was the biggest reason for it.
"Okay then. You'll have to meet with Hotchner, but they're currently in Miami. I'll call you in when they arrive." With that said, Drake stood up and offered his hand. She took it, dismissing him almost immediately afterwards.
As he walked out of the building, a soft sigh slowly eased from his lips. He was surprised at how many people actually cared about him. For all intents and purposes, the Albuquerque field office could've easily fired him after he opened a file on Veronica's death, but the chief didn't. She pushed it up to Cooper, allowing Chris the chance to work with him.
While processing the scene with the local police and CSI unit, Cooper arrived in town and aided the case. He tied it to a few out of state killings, but wasn't able to advance it any further. That pushed Drake into applying for the BAU, and Cooper had personally vouched for him.
But the biggest problem he had faced with the Bureau was, ironically, an old friend. He and Rawson met in Afghanistan, both working on a case. One of the local leaders had been reported to have given assistance to a Taliban leader, leading to the deaths of sixteen paratroopers. Drake and Rawson were given help from Rangers and SAS forces once the case grew to gun running.
It gave him the time to meet some great people, all of whom helped him out after he was discharged. His seven years of military service was split between the Military Police, Criminal Investigation Division, and special forces. He didn't really understand why it was split, but he truthfully wasn't concerned either.
He smiled as he started his 96 Ford Taurus. Backing out, he smiled as it was something that had served him well during dark times. It brought back happy memories of family and friends, all rallying around him to help soothe his broken heart. His closet friends, at the time at least, trying to help the woman who became his sister.
God he missed her. She was fiercely protective of the group, much to their amusement and anger. When she got in trouble, she avoided them. As if she had killed the group's puppy. Finally, it got to be too much. She ran away, and that caused cracks to slowly form in the armor of the group. It shattered when they heard she was killed.
Some turned to drugs and alcohol, while others drifted as far as they possibly could. All to numb the pain. Two remained friends, but were sent down two very different paths. Drake became obsessed with the law, aiming to someday know what happened. Samuel, however, turned to violence.
Pulling into the parking lot of Forest Hills Apartments, Drake allowed a brief smile to grace his face. If all went well, he'd have a job with the BAU soon. That meant that he'd be able to have plenty of help should the rat bastard return.
Drake internally shelved the thought, focusing on the other residents. His neighbors were the type to gossip, which meant that nothing was exactly off limits. It didn't matter if that caused fights between people who were in happy relationships. As a matter of fact, they viewed it as a bonus to the gossip.
Unlocking his front door and stepping inside, Chris allowed the carefully placed mask to fall. The rush of emotions and memories holding enough force to knock him off balance if he allowed them. His apartment was the one place that was both sacred and hated.
Sacred because it allowed him to be alone. Letting his thoughts drift to anything and everything that wasn't related to work. Hated for the same exact reasons. The perfect combination for him.
It was a one bedroom apartment, with the living room opened to the kitchen. Linoleum tiles ran through the entryway and kitchen, stopping at the small island that deigned the boundary of the understocked kitchen. The living room held a large birch entertainment center, which clashed with the dark hardwood floor. As he sat down on the black sectional couch, he kicked his feet up on the glass coffee table, barely glancing at the untouched shot glass.
The amber liquid resting inside the glass begged to be drank. A vice that had destroyed his parents marriage, and drove his brother and sister to cut ties with the entire family, had been Drake's way of coping. After the bloodshed from the war and cases, he figured that a drink could loosen his tongue.
After his time in Afghanistan, however, he found alcohol to be more useful in forgetting bad cases and missions. Before transferring to the CID, Drake was one of the few who could be used in a pinch by Special Forces. And they took full advantage of that fact.
He saw burning schools and hospitals filled with innocents and terrorists alike. If he was based in Europe, the host country was allowed to use him if necessary. It all grew to be a little bit too much.
But he would always be thankful for it, as it sharpened his skills.
Downing the remaining brandy, Drake laid down, turning on the television and allowing the droning program to lull him into an early slumber. A tactic that once drew his ire has become his salvation. Ironic.
The following morning, Drake awoke to his phone ringing, sending out the calming sounds of a generic ringtone. Ironic, since he would grow to hate the sound.
"Drake here." He answered, falling back upon ol' reliable.
"This is Section Chief Erin Strauss. SSA Aaron Hotchner has been alerted to you joining his team. He wants to meet with you at ten thirty, that way he can introduce you to the team. You'll have to stay behind for the first case or so, that way we can get everything finished." When she finished, Drake allowed a slow breath to escape through his nose.
"Understood ma'am. I'll the there by ten." Drake glanced at the clock, silently thanking any being that it was still two hours away. Hanging up the phone, Drake strolled into his room and grabbed a tan, short sleeve dress shirt, khaki slacks, and a black tie.
It was his go-to first meeting outfit. Highlights his athletic build of two hundred and seven pounds, while the black tie managed to bring out the light green of his eyes. Hopping in the shower, he allowed himself to relax a little. Today would be a good day. He'd go in and do what he needed to do. Impress his new superiors, figure out how to work with the team, and set up a day to do the sniper qualification.
Leaving the apartment, he couldn't help but grin. He was finally given a chance to do some good, instead of just fighting a losing battle. Nobody ever thinks about how hard it truly is to fight something that, at its core, is never predictable.
Arriving on the sixth floor, Drake walked through the glass doors, reading the room. A dark skinned agent raised an eyebrow, before grinning. It was clear that he viewed himself as the big brother of the group, consisting of a beautiful Latina who's brown hair and eyes were soft, yet capable of stealing every piece of information she'd need to hang the person. Next to her was a raven haired beauty who wore an amused smile that reached her dark brown eyes. Rounding out the group was a lanky man who's brown hair reminded Drake of a shampoo commercial actor's. Nice and trimmed to an exact measurement, yet still capable of highlighting his boyish innocence and charm.
"You new here?" The dark skinned agent asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd be considered a prototypical FBI agent, yet, in the bullpen, Drake realized that couldn't be further from the truth.
"So long as my meeting with Unit Chief Hotchner goes well. Christopher Drake, at your service." Drake extended his hand, noticing the amused grin on the Latina. She's probably already profiled me, and I'd be surprised if she missed anything.
"His office is just up the stairs, second door on the left." He took the offered hand and shook it, releasing it with a smile. Drake internally chuckled, realizing that it was a test.
"Thank you." With that, he walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. He waited a beat before entering, coming face to face with the one person who can easily send him away if he wants to. The office was pretty Spartan, with a few degrees detailing the neutral colored walls. The oak desk was neatly polished, doted with pictures of whom, Drake assumed, were his wife and son.
"Christopher Drake at your service sir." The older man just chuckled at the snappy salute. It was a reflex from his time in the military and from his days in ROTC.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, SSA Drake. Please, take a seat." Drake did so, letting his nervousness exit through a slow breath, gently reminding him that there was no reason to be on edge. It was just a meeting "Your file is quite interesting. Special Forces, CID, and then working with Violent Crimes, Hostage Rescue, and Counterterrorism. Says here you managed to make the rank of sergeant."
"Yes sir. I transferred to CID after a mission turned into a gun running case, which I'm sure you've heard of. I was, sadly, unable to stop it permanently."
"You paused it for a few months, and gave ATF and the DEA enough time to prepare for an influx. Nothing to be ashamed of." Drake wore a bitter grin.
"I'm sure you already know about why I've transferred here. So, I'm certain that you know that it doesn't exactly help me to know that fact."
"Actually, I don't. I'm interested in the full story, and why you want to be sniper qualified, but I'm a good listener. And for the record, just call me Hotch."
Drake nodded, letting himself acknowledge the fact that, as far as he could tell, he'd be capable of joining the team. "The reason I want to get my qualification for snipers is because I'm not exactly a person who likes being held back. I'm always aiming to be a good shot should the situation arise." A shudder ripped through Drake's chest, breaking up the calming breath into slow wheezes. "Last year, on March Seventh, the Albuquerque Field Office was alerted to a possible attack. We did our due diligence, and even had Hostage Rescue ready to kit up whenever it happened. Over the course of the investigation, we found out that there was also a serial killer loose."
"Did you guys try to contact us for help?" Hotch was concerned. If Drake said yes, then there was a very good chance he'd be upset that it wasn't taken. If not, he might blame himself for the deaths. It also meant that, at least in his mind, he couldn't afford to lack in qualifications, even if they're not necessary.
"I pushed for it, but the police and my superiors decided against it. And their decision caused the War Zone Sicario to go to ground. In his wake, another killer sprung up. One that killed my girlfriend due to her preventing her from shooting up a bank. All we ever found out was that she was dressed in white." Drake sighed, before asking for a cup of water.
Hotch nodded, giving him one. He watched Drake sip on the refreshing liquid, profiling him. His file said that he was someone who worked well alone, yet preferred a team. The type of person who values trust and respect, giving both and expecting the same courtesy in return. But he also wouldn't hold it against people if they didn't. If someone on the team was threatened, Drake would be the one person who would dive in head first into protecting them.
His body language supported that, but also spoke of how he was the type of person who wouldn't get angry or upset about something unless it threatened harm to the people around him. A need to protect others. Something that could potentially be done in the BAU. At the same time, Hotch noticed how Drake seemed to dance around a subject.
"Just one last question," Hotch paused, noticing how quickly Drake tensed. Clearly there was something he was attempting to hide, and he had a good guess as to what it was. "Why did you leave the military?"
Drake visibly relaxed before explaining. "My sister. She was being abused by my mom's piece of crap boyfriend, and it came close to being sexual abuse. The only reason it didn't was because she managed to get the police called. It bought her a day, and I was at the end of my enlistment contract. Remained with the CID, but as an investigator. That way I could take her in. She died three years ago in an accident."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thanks. Is that all sir?" Hotch nodded, offering his hand for Drake to shake as he stood up.
"It is. You've got your sniper qualification set for next week Monday, so we'll introduce you to the team today. Your first full day will be next Tuesday, and I trust you'll inform me if you have a personal connection to any case." Drake nodded, and followed the Unit Chief to the conference room. As the other members of the team entered, they were eager to find out if the rumor mill was right.
If they were finally given permission to get more agents in the Alpha team. The others were capable of fluctuating, but they were always allowed to pick and choose who joined their team. Strauss wouldn't let Hotch make that decision until Edmund became the Unit Supervisor. All because of the Tubbs case and Milwaukee mishaps from the Section Chief.
"This is SSA Christopher Drake. He'll be joining us fully next Tuesday barring us being called away on a case." The team just smiled, before introducing themselves.
"Nice to officially meet you. Derek Morgan," the dark skinned agent started, before stepping to the side. "Elle Greenaway," the Latina wore an amused grin, as if she had something to say, but decided against it. "Emily Prentiss" the raven haired beauty reminded Drake of a diplomat. "Doctor Spencer Reid" the man who defined innocence gave a soft wave in response to the extended hand.
"Please, call me Chris or Drake. It's a pleasure to meet you all."
"The rest of the team will be back in half an hour. They had to do something for Strauss, so feel free to stay and get to know the others."
Felt like this was a good place to stop. Going to be completely honest here, I've got an idea for how I'm going to get past episodes 18 and 19 of season 3. Which means I will have the first case for Drake be Lo-Fi and Mayhem. As for meeting Rossi, JJ, and Garcia, I excluded them this chapter because I was worried about making it go on longer than it needed. That said, there's quite a lot of fun stuff coming, as well as a flashback to the first CID case for Drake. It's not the best, but it's mainly used for setting up a future arc that will be properly set up down the road.
Now, I get to the fun part. To put everything simply; I'm having trouble deciding on whether or not to use Max or Lila for Reid's love interest. I know that some may want Maeve or Austin or JJ, but they're not an option for a few reasons. The biggest one being the fact that I've got plans for them all, both good and bad, so I don't want to change them. Again.
So feel free to mention which one is your favorite between Lila and Max. For those who want a same sex relationship, please see the word 'plans' in the last paragraph of this author's note.
Also, to kinda touch on the sister/friend situation; there's a plan in place for them. But right now, it's reserved for a sequel. Which doesn't mean that this is the only mention of it. It just means that I'm fairly certain on changing the events of one long arc. For the better, if I'm being honest.