Chapter Three: The Lies Will Catch Up to You

"There's a big, wonderful world out there for you. It belongs to you. It's exciting and stimulating and rewarding. Don't cheat yourselves out of this promise." –Nancy Reagan

"Alright, thanks, Reid. We're on it," Emily spoke into her phone before hanging up.

"What's going on?" Morgan asked from the driver's seat.

"Apparently, Theo goes camping every other weekend with an old friend of his, Jonathan Banks. It's a 4.5-hour drive each way, and they'd spend two days up there, so these guys are spending a pretty good amount of time together," Emily told him.

"And where'd the kid go every weekend when he was gone?"

"A friend's house, I guess that was where she was Friday night when he was killed".

Emily put the address Reid had given her into the GPS of the SUV, and soon the pair were pulling up to a brownstone apartment building in the North End of Boston.

After climbing three flights, Morgan knocked on the door of apartment 4B. "Mr. Banks? This is the FBI, we're here to speak to you about Theodore Jacobs" Morgan hollered through the door so that Johnny would be able to hear him.

Emily heard footsteps approaching, and soon a young man with flaming red hair and emerald green eyes stood before her.

"Oh boy, what'd Theo get himself into now?" the man asked jokingly, letting Emily and Morgan into the apartment.

"Mr. Banks, Theo Jacobs was found dead in his home yesterday morning. He was murdered sometime late Friday night. We were told you might have been the last person to see him alive," Morgan informed him, observing his reaction.

Johnny did seem shocked by the news, as well as upset, which made Morgan feel slightly better. He did not want to have to be the one to tell a 13-year-old kid that her brother's best friend killed him.

As Johnny sat down on the couch, looking close to passing out, Emily approached him. "Mr. Banks, we were told you were supposed to be going camping this weekend with Theo. So we just want to clear a few things up with you," Emily reassured him.

"Camping? I-I never go camping with Theo," Johnny replied, confused.

"Mr. Banks, Tate Jacobs told us that every other weekend for the better part of three years you've been going camping with Theo. So the question is; was Theo lying to his sister, or are you lying to us?" Morgan demanded.

Johnny scoffed, "I can't believe he's still doing that…" he murmured to himself.

"Doing what?" Emily questioned.

"Look, Theo was smart alright, and a really good guy. But he was convinced that his parent's "accident" wasn't really an accident. And he wouldn't let it go no matter how much I tried to convince him," Johnny sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"So every weekend he said he was going camping, he'd go catch a flight to New Orleans. He only told Tate he was going camping cause he didn't wanna worry her," Johnny finished.

Once they received an alibi from Johnny about his whereabouts on Friday night, they left the brownstone and headed towards the Boston Police Department.

"If he really was going to New Orleans twice a month for almost three years, he either found nothing, or he found something big," Derek commented.

"Or maybe he was just paranoid," Emily reasoned. "Or mentally ill. This is the age when schizophrenia starts to develop. Maybe he was just going crazy".

"Cmon Em, the kid had an IQ of 168, you really think he'd be chasing down some conspiracy theory if there wasn't some truth to it. Even LaMontagne said the circumstances of the accident were suspicious," Derek responded.

"He also said that despite investigating, nothing turned up. But I guess we have to consider the fact that if he was looking into the accident, maybe he asked the wrong people the wrong questions, and they decided they had to shut him up" Emily said.

The two continued the rest of the drive in silence, with Emily texting the rest of the team to keep them updated. Since the others had finished looking over the scene and interviewing Tate, they would be meeting her and Morgan at the station.

Will pulled onto the highway, happy to be putting Dover in his rearview mirror, at least for a little while. He'd always hated small towns, everything was too quiet, everyone was in everyone's business, and to top it all off, the cops were always a lovely mixture of cocky, arrogant, and useless.

He glanced over at JJ in the passenger seat, knowing she needed some time to think. The case had been hard on all of them for different reasons. It made JJ think of the sister she'd lost, and Will of his late father. Like any case with a kid, it was hard for Hotch, who constantly thought about Jack, and the intelligent nature of the siblings and the fact that they had been alone in the world had reminded Reid of himself as a kid.

Although the case was rough, Will was secretly a little glad that he and JJ finally had some time to see each other. Usually, they saw each other at least two weekends a month, but they hadn't been able to visit one another for almost six weeks at that point.

"Hey, Cher?" Will said, once again looking over at JJ, who hummed in response.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" he asked.

"This case, it's just…it's weird, you know? For a lot of reasons. And we have no motive, no suspects, and barely a profile. I just… I really wanna get answers for Tate".

"I know, me too," Will responded.

Will pulled into the parking lot of the Boston Police Department and stepped out of the car. He then walked around the front to open up JJ's door for her. When the two first started dating, JJ had found it slightly annoying how Will always insisted on getting the door for her. She was very capable of twisting a door handle, thank you very much. But now it was one of the things she loved about him, how polite he always was to everyone.

"Aw, such a gentleman," she teased him.

"Well I was raised in the South darlin'," he joked. "Seriously, though, we're gonna get whatever son of a bitch killed Theo, okay? No matter how long it takes. Tate deserves that".

JJ nodded, and the two walked up the steps of the building, with Will bounding forward to get the door.

Tate was led into the bustling group home by her new social worker, Ms. Higgins. The familiar sounds of running children and arguing teenagers washed over her, and she remembered the first foster home she and Theo had been placed in. It had been terrifying, being dropped off and left with complete strangers, but Theo had promised her they'd be alright. He had assured her that even though their parents were gone, they'd always have each other. Except now Tate was alone with no one by her side.

The woman in charge of the house, Mrs. O'Brian, led her to a small room upstairs. Two sets of bunk beds were crammed against one wall, and several dressers lined the other. Mrs. O'Brian directed her to an empty bunk, and then left her to "get settled". As if she could ever get settled in the chaos and uncertainty of a foster home.

As she sat down on her bed, Tate could hear another kid wailing down the hall, and it occurred to her that she hadn't cried once since Theo's death. She'd bawled her eyes out for days when her parents died, but when the police showed up to tell her Theo was dead, she'd just gone numb. The thought of crying was just too exhausting; it would take too much effort and if Tate had learned one thing, it was to never cry in a group home. Making a target out of yourself was never a good idea when you could instead just slip by unnoticed.

A few hours passed, and Mrs. O'Brian called for lights out. Tate curled up on the unfamiliar bed, knowing she wasn't going to be able to get much sleep that night. Usually her insomnia bothered her, but tonight it didn't. Anything to prevent tomorrow from coming sooner was wonderful in Tate's eyes, because tomorrow meant another day without Theo. Another day of wandering around aimlessly, pretending like she knew what was happening. But nothing made sense anymore; she was drowning, and there was no one to save her this time.

"They say the passage of time will heal all wounds, but the greater the loss, the deeper the cut and the more difficult the process to become whole again. The pain may fade, but scars serve as a reminder of our suffering and make the bearer all the more resolved never to be wounded again. So as time moves along we get lost in distractions, act out in frustration, react with aggression, give in to anger, and all the while we plot and plan as we wait to grow stronger, and before we know it, the time passes. We are healed. Ready to begin anew." –Klaus Mikaelson