Chapter 1: The Case
Her hands shook ever so slightly. Her jaw clenched, and she forced a face of confidence. A face she had mastered at this point in her career. A face with a gaze low and hard. She needed to be strong and, more importantly, look strong. That would keep her safe for the next 30 days.
Her safety was important, she knew that, but the responsibility for the protection of the other inmates weighed heavily on her chest. The evidence they had found of such horrific corruption was despicable but circumstantial. Whatever she could find to strengthen this case would benefit the system in more ways than just bringing the guilty to justice. It would also help create a system that served its intended purpose.
Real justice.
Which seemed to be lacking so profoundly lately.
A broken system and she highly doubted her undercover mission would make even a dent in the changes necessary to fix the system. But she needed to focus on her part- one day, one week, one month. That's what she could do.
She heard her name called.
After so many hours of waiting and sitting next to the crackheads and druggies- it was time. No one here knew her true identity. They didn't know she was a federal agent. They didn't know she was innocent.
She learned very quickly the inhumane sort of treatment these people endured. These people that were supposed to be innocent until proven guilty. No, they were treated as less than human. Less than the dust of the earth. Maybe some of them deserved a part of it because they were there for one reason or another, but it certainly wasn't her place to judge nor the corrections officers holding no more than a sliver of power.
But this was only the beginning. In her mind, she knew things could and would get worse. She tried to prepare and hoped it would be enough. She had put away countless killers, rapists, and other appalling criminals, but to be confined in a room with all of them and no protection? That was a different beast to slay.
After walking to the desk by the lady who called her name, a sandy-brown-haired officer led her into a dim room. He desperately needed a haircut, and while his appearance made him look to be no less than 40 years old, his face appeared more like a hormonal teenager covered by thin and spotty facial hair.
She flinched as the door slammed shut behind them. She could still vaguely hear shouting echoing outside the room, but somehow it began to soften by the deafening humiliation and despair the grimy room secreted. Even so, the room was mostly empty. A small shower head barely covered by a pathetic curtain occupied the right corner. In the other corner sat a mediocre metal chair holding inmate clothing and a pair of soft, flimsy flip-flops. Inmate standard. The walls were old, and the smell- unfamiliar and unpleasant.
It was only her and this middle-aged man. A middle-aged man that managed to present his ego, sizing at roughly the dimensions of Texas, more and more the longer she had to be in his suffocating presence. A middle-aged man that wore a badge and pretended he was anything other than a snake abusing his power. A middle-aged man that likely deserved to see the system from the other side.
Instantly she knew she wasn't the first, and all in a split second, she regretted her decision while swiftly losing her faith in humanity. He tried to hide the foul smirk sneaking across his face, but he couldn't stop looking her up and down. She utterly despised the way his eyes traveled her body without consent, but he was already undressing her with just his eyes, and she couldn't imagine this next part getting any better for her.
She moved her arms across her chest, a small semblance of her disdain for the situation while something bitter and akin to bile rose in her throat.
His voice broke the barrier.
His ugly, cocky voice that made her feel as though she was nothing but a doll placed on a shelf for his own personal pleasure.
"Remove your clothes."
They didn't know how many it had been. All they knew was it had been too many. Too many female inmates terrified of being hurt or worse. The frustration in the room was tangible. Emily sighed as another inmate walked out with the officer back to her cell. She rubbed her hand over her tired eyes then found a familiar expression from Rossi sitting next to her.
"How are we supposed to help them if they won't tell us anything?" Emily said with an exasperated sigh.
"They are terrified and more tight-lipped than my first wife when I asked why she was leaving me," Rossi replied.
Emily's mouth fell agape before she let out a genuine and hearty chuckle, led primarily by pure exhaustion.
"Yeah, like that was some sort of mystery," Emily joked.
The door creaked open again as another inmate shuffled in. Emily straightened her posture and crossed her hands in front of her to rest on the cold table. Emily gave the young girl with raven hair that looked so similar to her own, a light smile. The girl appeared far too young to be in jail, but Emily had learned appearances could be deceiving.
"Hi, my name is Emily, and this is my partner Dave. Can you tell us your name?"
"Vivian."
"Vivian, it is very nice to meet you. Do you know why we are here today?"
Vivian shrugged her shoulders, but she had a slight crease in her eyebrows that made Emily believe otherwise.
Emily nodded her head. "Okay. Do you mind if I tell you why we're here and ask you a few questions?"
Rossi wanted to smile; he wanted to remind Emily of her excellence; he wanted to thank her for being in his life and teaching him even at his age. But he didn't; he kept quiet and leaned back in his seat, gathering as much information as he could from the young girl's meager body language.
"Sure," Vivian mumbled.
Emily smiled again, trying to make eye contact so maybe the girl would learn to trust her just enough to let Emily help. Emily had her own mother wound, after her childhood, it really was no surprise, but for some reason, the girl managed to strike a nerve right in the heart of that dull wound.
"We're here to see how operations in the jail are running. What can you tell us about your experience here?"
Vivian bit her lip, quite obviously, while the inner turmoil spread across her face.
"It's fine..?" Vivian answered, but the way it ended sounded a lot more like a question.
"You can be honest with me. I am just here to help." Emily said with an encouraging nod. Emily recognized part of herself in Vivian. Not long ago, Emily had been on the same path as her; lucky for Emily, she had friends that turned into family. Her new family had cared for her so deeply, and it ultimately changed Emily's life.
Vivian wrapped her arms around her petite frame and tucked her legs closer to her body. An apparent attempt to self-soothe.
"So let me ask again, is there anything happening that might be unsafe for you or other inmates?"
Emily knew that it was a leading question, but she hoped it would be enough to get Vivian talking.
Vivian nodded her head, so minuscule Emily hoped she hadn't imagined it.
"What's happening that makes you feel unsafe?"
Vivian shook her head back and forth and straightened in her seat. "No, no, no. I can't say anything. No-nothing is happening."
Emily sucked in deeply, "it sounds and looks like that might not be the truth… Vivian, tell me what's going on? I can help keep you safe. We both can." Emily said, gesturing to Rossi sitting next to her.
Rossi leaned forward. "She's right, Vivian. We're the good guys."
Again Vivian shook her head. "The people in there are supposed to be good guys too."
The pair of agents paused, but only for a moment.
"You mean the officers?" Rossi asked, but Vivian stayed silent and refused to answer any of their follow-up questions.
Finally, Emily tried again, "Vivian, why were you arrested?"
"Does it matter?" Vivian instantly replied with a bit of venom to her response.
Emily finally made eye contact as one single tear slipped down Vivian's pale cheek.
"It matters to me."
Silence. Again.
"What is it? Who is hurting you?"
Long seconds of silence began to pass, and Emily started to lose hope.
"The- the guys, the guards, they… it's not safe." The last part came out as a whisper, and Emily suddenly felt a strong urge to hug the girl, take her home, and make a difference that would change Vivian's life like her own had been.
"Vivian, listen to me closely. I am going to help you as much as I can. When you go back there, you tell everyone you didn't say anything to us, okay?"
Vivian nodded her head.
"You be strong, and I'll be back, okay?"
Vivian nodded again.
Rossi turned his head back and gave the guard standing just beyond the clear glass a signal. The man standing outside the interview room came and took Vivian with no words. The soundproof room would hopefully be enough to keep the girl safe for now. They needed her safe long enough for them to get the evidence necessary to make some arrests. She had already taken an enormous risk talking to them.
Emily gave Vivian another encouraging and robust smile as she walked out. As soon as they were gone, Rossi and Emily stood from the metal table.
"I think we have what we came for," Rossi said.
The flight back home felt far longer than the flight to Arizona. Maybe because Emily had taken a nap on the way there, but now her body quivered with anxiety; either way, she and Rossi finally walked up the ramp at the BAU to report on what they found to Hotch.
Hotch met them outside his office before they could even knock on his door.
"Prentiss, Dave- come in."
Emily and Rossi shared a concerned gaze before entering Hotch's office as he closed the door behind him.
"An inmate at MSCO jail was just found dead in her cell."
Emily fell to the couch as her hand immediately went to her forehead.
"Vivian Jackson, 19 years old, stabbed to death in a jail riot."
"Oh my g-" Emily started before stopping and shaking her head. "I told her I would keep her safe."
"This isn't your fault Emily." Rossi tried to comfort the brunette.
"How is it not?" Emily stood from the couch. "I made her talk and look where that got her?"
"You couldn't have known this would happen," Hotch added.
Emily shook her head and spun to face the back wall as her emotions started to get the best of her. It was probably irrational, and her own guilt talking, but somehow Hotch's voice seemed to be laced with disappointment in Emily. In a matter of seconds, she swung back to face the two men as she instantly compartmentalized her feelings. Her stare settled on a mug of stale coffee sitting on Hotch's desk.
"So we're taking the case then? When do we leave?"
"Garcia is arranging that now. Should be on the jet in one hour."
"Great," Emily replied shortly and walked out of his office.
Hotch watched Rossi examine Emily as she strode down the ramp.
"Will she be-" Hotch started to ask, but Rossi cut him off.
"Yeah, she'll be okay." Rossi glanced back towards Hotch as a sort of realization came over his face. "How are we going to catch these guys if the one person that talked to us was murdered in a matter of hours?"
"I think I have an idea."
JJ stepped into Hotch's office with Morgan shortly behind her. His office was lit only by a lamp in the corner, and for some reason, it always came across as more alluring after office hours.
"What's going on?" Morgan asked as the door closed behind them.
Hotch sat down at his desk while the pair followed along by sitting in the two chairs adjacent. He briefly updated them on the case and the recent developments that were escalating their need for action. JJ listened intensely, still contemplating why only she and Morgan were being debriefed.
"Hotch, what are you saying?" Morgan asked.
"In order to get the intel, we need to arrest the corrupt officers in MSCO jail, we need someone on the inside."
JJ sat back in her chair as the puzzle pieces started to fit together.
"You both can say no at any time. We can find another way-" Hotch started, but JJ cut him off this time.
"What exactly are you asking?"
"I have created an undercover operation where you are put in the pod as an inmate and Morgan as a corrections officer."
JJ swallowed hard, not from her nerves, but from the racing thoughts fighting for dominance as she took in the information. The rhythmic ticking of the clock became so much louder as the silence set in. She knew Hotch was giving her a moment to process the request, but she couldn't stop seeing the enamored look of concern across Morgan's face. It didn't make her feel cared for like one might expect; it lit a mini fire inside her, a will of determination and a deep need to prove her worth.
Hotch's gaze shifted between the two agents as he finally broke the silence. "You would both be put in for a maximum of 30 days. The only people that will know your true identities are the team and the jail chief. JJ, you would be arrested and processed like any other inmate. But you should know the risks first-"
"Wait." Morgan put his hand up. "You just told us about an inmate being stabbed to death, and you want to put JJ in there?" His voice seeped with worry that questioned the sanity of Hotch's request.
"Derek, let him finish."
"You would both have a panic signal if at which point we would pull you immediately. But JJ, you don't have to do this, you can say no."
Morgan interrupted before JJ could answer.
"I don't think it's a good idea, man."
JJ turned to Morgan as the small fire grew into an inferno. "Come on, if it was Rossi would you be saying this? Or Hotch? You wouldn't. I can do this, I'll be fine." JJ argued.
"So I'll take that as a yes?"
JJ nodded her head to Hotch's question. "Yeah, I'm in."
"Morgan?"
"If JJ's in, I'm in."
A/N: I am not an expert on jail functions by any means, so bear with me! Please review and let me know if there is any interest in me continuing. Also, I am looking for a beta reader if anyone is interested! My dear friend JJfanCM had to take a break due to personal reasons. 3