Jason Gideon was far from a stupid man. In fact it'd been said more time than he cared to recall that he was a brilliant individual. He'd been told that he had a remarkable mind, one capable of swinging between the psyches of a normal man and a deranged one within moments. In his time, he'd always responded calmly to such praise. "Thank you, sir." And then a smile to top it off.
Because these people couldn't possibly understand. They couldn't possibly know that moving between minds wasn't about swinging, it wasn't about masterfully maneuvering or careful study.
It was all about surrendering yourself to the darkness and praying like hell that the harness you'd strapped on before you jumped over the cliff held up.
A time or two, his had not.
A time or two, he'd fallen way too fast and much too far.
More than a time or two, he'd wondered just what the hell he was doing in this line of work. Now, gazing down at the crimescene just down the street from his agent's house, he again wondered why he hadn't chosen retirement after the whole Bale fiasco. No one would have blamed him.
"Guy splattered on the inside of the car is Gibson Barrett. Man cut up on the outside is Jim Murdock. Barrett was shredded. Murdock just took a knife to the chest for his troubles," the detective in charge, Andrew Burke, informed he and Hotch.
He turned and watched as Hotch walked around the Porsche, his keen ex-prosecutors eye taking in every detail. Hotch was in many ways his partner. The whole team seemed to have one. Morgan and Prentiss, JJ and Reid. He and Hotch. Always paired up, usually able to understand each other with very few words.
With he and Hotch it was more. They were like parents to this group. Mom and dad, alternating depending on the day. And because of that, they had to be able to read their people like a mother and a father would read their kids.
But these weren't kids. They were adults whose demons were catching up.
"Any idea how Barrett got into the car?" Hotch finally asked.
"Yup, he broke his own window to get in. That's what triggered the alarm. Not sure where he thought he was going though; he didn't have keys on him, " Burke answered.
"Didn't matter," Gideon shrugged. "He was just trying to get away. One part of his mind said lock yourself inside, the other part didn't connect the dots that by breaking the window he'd be allowing his killer a way to follow him."
"Also," Hotch suggested, "He probably set off the alarm in hopes that he'd either scare away his killer or bring enough help to do so."
"Well he brought help," Burke said dryly, glancing over at the corpse of Jim Murdock.
"Hotch," Gideon said suddenly, turning just to the side. The sun was bright this morning and it fairly beamed off the hair of Jennifer Jareau as she approached with Morgan, Prentiss and Lance Crow right on her heels. She looked exhausted to him and perhaps even a bit pissed off.
Hotch breathed out a sigh of relief and then went to meet her. "Are you alright?"
"Fine. I overslept. I'm sorry," she replied, a tight unusual clip to her words. That was a tone she usually reserved for reporters. Gideon felt his eyebrow lift just a bit. She was off. Unlike the others on the team, all profilers who by their very nature knew how to disguise and hide their demons, JJ tended to be an open book when she so chose to be. Around her friends, around the safety that they offered, she tended to wear everything on the surface. Frustration, fear, joy, happiness. And in this case, irritation and embarrassment. But there was more, something deep behind those big blue eyes.
Something that was screaming out, "Help me, help me, I'm falling."
"Okay," Hotch finally nodded, but Gideon didn't miss his partner's eyes flicker over to Morgan, as if seeking confirmation. And he didn't miss the fact that Morgan's eyes were unable to provide that confirmation. Damn. Damn. Damn.
How could they be so stupid to let this get so out of hand?
"Murdock's over there. Gibson Barrett is in the car," Hotch told the others.
JJ titled her head just a bit, glanced inwards and then immediately look away, revulsion creasing her face. And she looked suddenly quite sick, Gideon thought. Like she was about to throw up.
But she wouldn't. He knew that. They all knew that. Because she was better controlled than that. You didn't do this job, you couldn't become good at this job, if you weren't a master of control.
Even if it was all an illusion.
"Is this our case?" Morgan asked quietly, leaning in.
"No, probably not," Hotch answered immediately. "But JJ, they will want to talk to you."
"Of course, " she nodded, still not looking near the car.
"If you like, I'll go with," Hotch offered.
Before she could respond, Gideon quickly put in, "No, I will." He turned towards JJ, saw her open her mouth to protest. The moment their eyes met, she stopped. She was a smart girl, a better read of people than anyone gave her credit for. She knew an order when she saw it. Even when the order wasn't spoken aloud.
"Okay," she said softly, her voice barely audible. And there it was, the embarrassment again.
Gideon nodded then, the matter settled.
Everything else was up in the air.
The room they were sitting in was comfortable. After all, this wasn't meant to be an interrogation. JJ wasn't a person of interest, she wasn't even really a witness. All she was, was someone who'd had a brief relationship with the dead.
Problem was, talking about that relationship meant that she had to unseal a part of her personal life. And worse, she had to do so in front of her supervisor. A man who was like a father figure to her.
"Okay," Andrew Burke started. "We want to make this real quick and easy for you, Agent Jareau. All we want to know is who Gibson Barrett was and why someone would want to kill him."
Only because he knew her so well by now did he see her lip quirk just a bit as the first answer that ripped her through her mind tried to get out through her lips. But again, she was far too controlled for that. And so instead, quite evenly, painfully devoid of any inflection that might betray her emotions, she said, "I only went out with him once. It wasn't a great date. Nothing really happened."
"If you don't mind me asking," Burke drawled. "Why didn't anything happen?"
And again, her lip quirked. Only this time more noticeably. Gideon watched as her shoulders tightened, and her back straightened. Like she was facing the press. Like she was going into battle.
Poor Burke, he mused. The poor kid stood no chance.
And yet, JJ was off. He could see that, too. The slight drowsiness behind her eyes. Her hands which couldn't quite stay still and the irritation which she couldn't completely erase from her face.
She was too damn good to be showing any of those things.
"I do mind," JJ replied. "But for the sake of the investigation, I'll answer the question. Gibson wasn't my type. We didn't have a great dinner and by the time we got back to my place, we decided…" she stopped briefly, parsing her words and then…"mutually that we should end the night."
Burke's look was dubious so like a fool, he pushed on. "He had your business card on refrigerator. Looks like it had your personal cell number on it."
And this time JJ actually flinched just a bit, her face contorting for maybe a second or so, before she schooled her features. It was a curious reaction, one that Gideon filed away for later. Because he was sure that it meant something. "I probably gave it to him when we first met. I'm not sure why he kept it."
"What about over dinner. Did he say anything to you that now when you think back on, you think might have gotten him into trouble."
Gideon saw the smile form on her lips. It looked for a second like it was going to explode across her face, into a full grin, but then it stopped and she simply said, "No. On a personal level I found him to be someone I didn't really care to spend time with. Beyond that, I don't know."
And somehow, Gideon knew she was lying. He just wasn't sure what about yet.
"Okay," Burke nodded. "I think we're done here. Thank you, Agent Jareau. If we have any more questions, we'll let you know."
Gideon watched for a look of relief to cross her face, half-expected it. But then, he realized, he was underestimating her. Even in her raw state, she was more controlled than that.
She was simply stronger than that.
He wondered if that was to her detriment.
They'd driven back to Quantico in silence. She'd been driving her big black SUV and for a few moments, he'd been watching her, waiting for her to speak.
All she'd managed was, "I hear the Skins might trade for a good pick this year."
And so he'd talked football with her. Because that was all the in she was willing to give. Her face, her twitching jaw, however, they both told him that her mind was a million miles away.
Probably focused on a man she clearly could barely stand.
Because he'd died near her. Because he'd been murdered while she'd been trying to escape her own nightmares. And she probably blamed herself.
Scratch that, he knew that she blamed herself.
Because he knew that he would have. Even if it didn't make a lick of sense.
"You feeling okay?" he finally asked, glancing towards her. He saw her fingers tighten on the wheel. It was the question she'd been hoping like hell he wouldn't ask.
"Fine," she said with a forced smile. "Could use some coffee," she tagged on.
"Okay," he replied, looking back out the window. He frowned a bit, annoyed that he wasn't quite sure how to speak to her.
But then, he reminded himself, he hadn't really been able to find a way to directly speak to Reid either. And he was a hell of a lot closer to Reid than he was to JJ.
Because she was good at what she did.
Only giving away as much as she wanted given away to who she wanted it given away to. Usually she reserved that for the enemy, for the evil.
But now those who were both family and friends were a danger to her, a threat to expose her demons.
And so they drove in silence.
"Jason," Hotch called out, as they entered the bullpen together at just after noon.
"It went fine," Gideon said quickly, getting a look of thanks from JJ, who surely didn't want to talk about it anymore.
"I know. Look, they've asked us to join the case."
"What?" JJ exclaimed, just a small hint of hysteria in her tone. Then she calmed herself. "Why? What does this have to do with us?"
"Barrett wasn't the first," Reid commented, coming towards them. Gideon watched a look pass between Reid and JJ. Watched both look away from each other. They tried to make it casual, but he saw the flash of emotion between them.
Friendship or whatever the hell they had between them gone awry,
Guilt. Anger. Blame. Shame.
Just plain pain.
She hid it better. He wasn't too bad.
"What do you mean?" she asked, looking more at Hotch than Reid. To their side, the rest of the team had joined the group. Morgan had positioned himself rather protectively, like a big brother, next to JJ. Gideon almost smiled when he saw Morgan do a quick once-over of JJ, just to make sure one more time that really was okay.
At least physically.
"Barrett was the third murder of this kind. We have a serial killer in our own backyard," Hotch told her. "All the files are on your desk. How quick do you think you can get a briefing together?"
"Give me an hour," she replied, eyes shining, fully awake now.
And Gideon thought to himself, well isn't that interesting, she looks thankful.
Thankful for the distraction.
Kind of like strapping on a harness and jumping into the darkness.
He just hoped she wouldn't fall too far, too fast.