Chapter four: that which we call a rose
The moment they step into the interrogation room the woman's pacing halts, the blank, nearly stern expression growing deeper on her face as she slowly lowers her arms, brows furrowed in suspicion.
"Why so surprised?" Morgan immediately starts off with passive aggression, raising an eyebrow as the two of them step further into the room, the door gliding shut behind Prentiss. "You called, we answered. Now here we are."
The woman takes a large step back away from the table as Morgan noisily drags a chair back, Prentiss following suit in a much quieter way. Her eyes narrow suspiciously as Prentiss smiles reassuringly up at her, gesturing to the chair opposing the table.
"I take it you want to speak with us finally?" Prentiss places her palms on the tabletop. "Please, have a seat. We just want to ask you some questions."
"So ask." The woman says seriously, regarding them both with a level expression, unmoving. Morgan shrugs a limp shoulder with a slight sigh, tapping a finger onto the table top in apparent boredom. "Alright. Why don't we start off with what you were doing in the woods?"
The woman narrows her eyes defensively, obviously not going to make this conversation easy for them. "Why?"
"Sure, why were you in the woods?"
"Why does it matter?" She has yet to move from her spot, seemingly struggling not to glance towards the exit, posture tense and fists clenched.
"I just find it curious. I can tell you've been out there for a while. It's the twenty-first century, what's so appealing about the woods?" Morgan questions.
"What's your aim?" She asks instead of responding to the straightforward question, crossing her blood stained arms once more and mirroring his body language. "What do you want? We weren't hurting anyone."
"The man you threatened isn't so sure about that." Morgan fires back, gaze narrowed and accusatory. "And neither am I."
The woman raises a dark eyebrow slowly, as if unimpressed.
Prentiss butts in, deciding for a lighter approach as she slides her hands off the table and gestures. "How about we start off with something easy. What's your name?"
The woman debates, glancing between the both of them seriously, uncrossing her arms only as she seems to come to her decision. "...Michonne."
"Michonne…?" Prentiss purposefully goads, obviously intending for a last name.
'Michonne's' eyes narrow. "Just Michonne."
"Alright Just Michonne, what brings you to Senoia?" Morgan leans back in his seat uncaringly, crossing his arms.
Michonne somewhat shrugs a shoulder, glancing towards the one way mirror. "No reason specifically.."
Her tone is slow, purposeful. It's unclear to Morgan whether she is being untruthful or if this is just her untrustworthiness of law enforcement coming through.
"Oh c'mon, you can't expect me to believe that. What, you all just wander from place to place aimlessly, hoping for the best?" When she doesn't respond, other than to give them both a long, searching look, "How is it that nobody has seen you up until now?"
Michonne shrugs, as if to give off a disposition of flippancy, eyes flicking away for a moment. "Dumb luck."
Morgan looks at Prentiss, an eyebrow raised and his lip quirked. "Dumb luck she says."
"I heard," Prentiss shoots Morgan a pointed look, before guiding her attention back towards Michonne.
"Has the child advocate arrived?" Is the first thing J.J questions upon entering the observation room after having been signaled. Gideon nods, sending her a glance before refocusing on the kid, arms crossed.
"Reid is briefing her. I take it you don't want me in there so soon?"
J.J releases a large breath, sending Gideon a reluctant look before shaking her head. "Remind me to never play poker against you."
"Where's the fun in that?" He sends her a quick smile, not taking offense.
"I don't know why I feel so, I don't know. He's only said two words but it still feels like a betrayal of trust."
"Because it is." The two share a solemn look as the door to the room opens up.
"You must be the child advocate," J.J immediately shakes the stern looking woman's hand, who nods grimly in response after coming into the room behind Reid.
"That I am. Bennet Kyle." She shakes Gideon's hand as well and introductions go around. The woman turns to look at the window revealing the sad looking kid, pursing her lips.
"Give me a few moments with him first before you come in." She sends the group a harsh look before making her way out of the room.
"Anybody else talking?"
Reid nods to J.J's question, placing his hands in his pockets and staring at the kid with a frown. "Hotch said that Prentiss and Morgan are currently speaking to the woman with the sword."
Gideon looks over. "Where's he at?"
"He was off to talk to the witness when I passed him."
Bennet's overall demeanor completely shifts as she enters the interrogation room. "Hello there.. My name is Bennet Kyle, I am the child advocate that is going to be representing you from here on out. Do you mind if I sit down?"
The kid looks up through his stringy bangs, eye narrowed.
Bennet only hesitates for a moment at the silence before pulling out the opposite chair as quietly as possible, giving the kid an assumedly docile look. "Do you know what I mean by that? Child advocate?"
After a moment of deliberate silence and contemplation, the kid slowly, yet barley shakes his head, as if humoring the woman.
"Well, that means I am going to be appointed basically as a… sort of temporary guardian over you…" The kid seems to twitch a bit at that, much to the interest of those observing. "So, what that means is, I'm on your side. Your best interest is my only priority. Yours alone."
Through a narrowed eye, the kid purses his lips, glancing towards the one way mirror. Bennet attempts one more time before looking towards the one way mirror as a signal. "Do you have a name? Something that's better than just referring to you as 'kid' the rest of our time together?"
"Carl." The kid, Carl, snaps, if only to shut Bennet up apparently. That or he is just tired of being bombarded with the same question over and over again for the past seven hours. Either way, it's monumental progress.
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Gideon placates as he goes towards the exit, patting an almost pouting J.J on the shoulder. "Her voice is just a lot more grating than yours."
J.J sighs as the man exits, hitting Reid's arm lightly.
"What?" Reid defends. "I didn't say anything!"
"No, but you thought it." J.J insists with a sigh.
As the door swings open and Carl notes Gideon's appearance, the kid's demeanor shifts, straightening almost unconsciously in his seat, shifting his eye from one perceived threat to the other.
Gideon smiles briefly towards the child advocate who shifts her seat towards the edge of the table, not sitting directly beside the kid, but also not next to the detective. "Hello. Carl.. is it?"
'Carl' does not respond, merely narrowing his eye and leaning back in his seat, arms crossed.
Gideon sits, before scooting forward in his seat and dropping his clasped hands onto the table silently. Carl stares back unflinchingly, determined to not show… what? Fear? Loathing? It's difficult to tell. "You got a last name kid?"
"Why does that matter?" Good, good. They've finally got the kid talking, however grudgingly. Now getting a worthwhile response is just the problem..
Gideon raises an eyebrow while leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, mirroring the kid's body language. "What's in a name, huh? You take ninth grade English kid?"
Carl narrows his eye further, pursing his lips.
"No?" No response. "What, they didn't give you any homework to work on out in the woods?"
Bennet purses her lips slightly at his tone, looking displeased but knowing better than to interrupt, thankfully. Carl looks down at the table, lips white from pressure. For a second there however, he had looked almost vulnerable, disbelieving in a sense. Disbelieving what exactly? The fact that somebody actually cares?
"Look, I'm going to be honest with you Carl," Gideon leans forward, placing his hands on the tabletop once again. "I can tell you're an intelligent kid, so I'm not going to waste either of our time here. You understand you're not going anywhere any time soon, correct?"
Since the kid merely looks up, watching almost angrily, Gideon decides to amp up the pressure. "What happened to your eye kid? Why won't you let anybody look at it? Did one of those people do this to you?"
Carl's cheek twitches, as if unconsciously. His eyebrows furrow, he does not look happy. "No."
"No? No they didn't hurt you? Alright, so, what's the problem then? How come you don't want our help?"
"You mean the 'help' you're forcing onto me?" The kid looks huffy, as if he's being offered a charge rather than medical attention. "We didn't need any help, we were doing just fine on our own."
"Just fine huh? This is what 'just fine' looks like to you?" Gideon raises an eyebrow. "You do realize attempted robbery is a crime, yes?"
"Last I checked, kidnapping was too." The kid immediately refuted, clearly nearing his last straw of patience.
"You think we kidnapped you? Do you think that's what's happening right now?" Gideon sighs as the kid suddenly goes mute, shaking his head ever so slightly. "Believe it or not, we're the good guys here kid. We're just trying to help you, despite whatever Rick has told you."
"You want to help us?" The kid looks up, eye shadowed. This is good, far more progress than Gideon had been originally aiming for.
"Yeah, kid- Carl. I can assure you, that is all I want."
Carl looks to the table top, sniffing after a moment of hardened silence. "Yeah, well, you're about two years late."
A weight drops into Gideon's stomach, not that he could physically show the change and let the kid know how he's feeling. Ah, progress. How bittersweet you can be.