Related episode: 4.06 The Eyes Have It
Organ-a keyboard instrument with one or more divisions
"Chica, I need a favor."
Garcia's voice cut in at just the wrong moment, breaking my concentration so that Special Agent Adam Jones caught me in a chokehold. I missed the chance to block the hold, but I could still jab my elbow back at his solar plexus and kick back with my foot, not aiming for his foot, but the long muscle on the shin.
The grip loosened just enough that I could break free and run for the door. Breathing hard from exertion, I looked over at the brightly-clad technical assistant who waited for me patiently.
"What favor?" I panted, still catching my breath, but otherwise acting as if it were perfectly normal for her to catch me sweaty and lightly bruised in the company of one of the combat trainers for the FBI recruits.
"You're officially conscripted for heavy lifting too," Garcia looked over my shoulder to catch Adam's eyes.
Once Garcia explained that JJ had asked her to set up an office for Morgan to fit his new title of Acting Supervisory Special Agent in Charge, I lost my sense of exhaustion.
"What do you mean, Hotch has stepped down?" I demanded. "When did this happen?"
Garcia visibly blanched, slumping her shoulders in a way I definitely didn't like. "He didn't mention it to you?" she asked in a quiet, timid voice.
I sighed, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose. It wasn't Garcia's fault that Hotch's and my relationship had practically derailed. It didn't matter that I insisted on staying in contact with him, sending him somewhat regular updates via text or phone call about my classes and new friends and teachers. Hotch was determined to keep me away from him to keep me safe.
"Temporary, you said, right?" I asked, trying to focus on the fact that Garcia had said that Morgan's promotion was "Acting" Unit Chief.
"Yes, that's what he said," Garcia confirmed for me in relief. "He says that once we get Foyet, he steps down and Hotch is back in charge."
"Then let's help him out," I agreed with determination.
Adam, who had remained politely silent during our exchange, also didn't ask if "get Foyet" meant arrest him or kill him. I knew which one I preferred.
An hour later, we had finished with Morgan's new office. Adam and I left Garcia to put her own touch of style on the room and hit the showers. I had only just enough time to get dressed but had to leave my hair damp in order to make it back to campus in time for orchestra. By the end of practice, I was tired enough to contemplate heading straight home and seeing if Michael wanted to order a pizza.
Before I could make my escape, one of my fellow theory classmates and cellist, Calleigh, approached me. "Want to join us for dinner in the cafeteria? One of us can swipe you in."
I swiftly weighed my exhaustion against my disinclination to be a social hermit like I had basically ended up in high school. The group in music theory included Anne Marie, Simon, and Calleigh, occasionally Kira and some others that I didn't directly know. All of them consistently invited me to other get togethers on campus even though I was a commuter.
"Sure," I agreed. Every student in the dorms got a meal plan that inlcuded meals in the cafeteria. As a commuter, I had to pay extra for a meal plan and since I had my own kitchen and the café, I hadn't seen the point in signing up for one.
Calleigh and I met up with her twin brother, Emory, on the way to the cafeteria. Emory was darker skinned than his sister with short dreadlocks and a matching Southern accent.
"Mama likes two-for-one specials," Emory joked when I asked how he and Calleigh felt about going to the same college.
The cafeteria was absolutely packed given that most classes let out around five and most evening classes started at six.
"Looks like Simon and Ronnie got a table," Calleigh pointed out. "Hopefully the others got a head start and can take over saving the table so they can get in line themselves."
I recognized Simon as my flute neighbor from band, but I didn't know the petite brunette sitting next to him.
I hit the salad bar first, loading my plate with spinach, mushrooms, hard-boiled egg, red onion, and honey mustard dressing and salt and pepper. When I made it to the table, Simon was gone, but Anne Marie was sitting with a tray holding two plates of baked chicken, greens beans, and roasted potatoes. Apparently, one plate was for Ronnie.
"Rachel, I'm so glad that you came," Anne Marie said, jumping up and giving me a hug. Anne Maria was one of those genuinely nice people, much like Garcia and Natasha, though without the borderline smothering. "This is my roommate, Ronnie Brown, art major. Ronnie, this is Rachel Gideon, flute major. She lives off campus."
"Is that seriously all you're eating?" Calleigh asked me, taking the seat next to me, her own plate loaded with the baked ziti and smaller side salad.
"I'm vegetarian," I explained.
Once Simon and Emory joined us, conversation shifted to the upcoming family weekend and concert, given that most of us were musicians.
"Mom and Dad are driving up Friday night," Anne Marie shared. "Mom also wants to do the whole tourist thing in DC while they're here."
"My parents are saving their travel money for the Christmas concert," Simon said. "Colorado."
"What about you, Rachel?" Calleigh asked. "Do your parents live close?"
It was inevitable that the conversation would come up at some point. So even though I felt the same wrench in my heart, I had my answer ready.
"I lost both my parents when I was sixteen," I answered with forced calm. Before anyone could jump in and ask if it had been an accident, I added on, "Serial killer."
"Oh my God," Anne Marie gasped. Emory and Ronnie both cursed and the rest just looked stunned.
"I am so sorry!" Calleigh burst out. "Are you okay?"
I forced a smile. "It's not as bad as it used to be," I said honestly.
"What happened?" Emory demanded. "Did the cops get him? Did you have any other family?"
"The killer jumped in front of a train, killed himself," I explained shortly. "And I had family all over, but my dad's co-worker actually took me in and became my legal guardian. The rest of the work team kind of took over as my family."
"Well, that's good," Simon managed to get out through his disbelief.
"Actually, some of them should be here for the concert," I brought up in an effort to get the conversation off my tragic history. "And I'm sure we can come up with some secret spots for sight seeing for your parents, Anne Marie."
"Oh but they need to do the stupid tourist stuff first," Emory argued with me, going along with my tactic. "They've got four years of visiting to hit everything."
Luckily, the others started to jump in as everyone made their pitches for various sight seeing destinations.
I had known that this conversation wouldn't be easy, or pretty, which is why I had already decided what to say. It was all true, I convinced myself. Even though only my mother had actually died from Frank's attack, I considered Dad Frank's last victim for all that he walked away still alive. I just felt terrible that I had brought this darkness to people who had never known this type of tragedy before.
Serial killers just aren't real to most people. Or maybe, they're real, but in that way that everyone knows the exist, but never think about one actually impacting their personal lives directly. Serial killers happen somewhere else, they attack other people. They're mentioned in books or on the news. No one ever thinks that anything like that will ever actually happen to them.
And then there was me.
Anne Marie convinced me to get some soft-serve ice cream before I left. I bid good bye to the group cheerfully enough when we all went our separate ways, the others to their respective dorm rooms and I headed for the fine arts building and locked myself in a practice room.
Once I felt in a better frame of mind to drive, I started to make my way to my car, passing the campus chapel on the way. Surprisingly, half the lights were on and I could hear the organ pipes inside. I peeked inside through the glass doors and noticed a familiar form on the organ bench. I also noticed a familiar tune.
I snuck inside and took a seat on a bench off to the side of the organ console where I was partially hidden in the shadows. I closed my eyes and listened as Matthew played Holst's Jupiter, his fingers jumping between the three keyboards, pulling out different textures and sounds from the various organ stops.
It was simply beautiful. So beautiful that when Matthew held the final cadence, I savored how the reverberations echoed in the chapel and didn't speak until Matthew shifted on the bench to put his music away and noticed me.
"Sorry, I didn't realize you were waiting for me," Matthew apologized.
I stood up and came to stand beside the organ bench.
"I wasn't exactly," I explained. "I heard you playing and came in to listen. I needed that."
Matthew tilted his head to look at me closely. "Problems?"
"I had to discuss an uncomfortable subject tonight," I said.
He didn't ask, but he waited patiently if I wanted to go on. So I told Matthew the same half-lie that I had told the others.
His reaction wasn't what I expected. He didn't swear or ask for details. He didn't ask if I was okay. Instead, Matthew reached out and lay his hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly enough so that I could feel it.
"I'm sorry."
And that was all; it was stunningly sincere and all that needed to be said. I nodded my head in thanks, both for the sentiment and because Matthew wasn't having a huge reaction.
Before the silence got awkward, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I excused myself and dug it out to check my text messages; Matthew let go his grip on my shoulder.
Success! was from Garcia along with a picture of Morgan's finished office. I smiled.
"Good news?" Matthew asked me.
"A project I did today worked out," I shared. I decided to take advantage of the lighter note of the conversation. "I'll let you get back to practicing."
I started to turn away, but stopped when Matthew leaned over and grabbed my arm.
"If you need to talk, or just need some music to listen to, you know where to find me."
"I appreciate that," I told him sincerely. "I really do."
Matthew nodded and I started to walk away again. I made it down the aisle halfway before I thought of something else.
"Hey, Matthew?" I called out over my shoulder.
Matthew looked up from the new music he was pulling out. "Yeah?"
"You were right. It is much better on the organ."
Despite the reminder of my mother's death, I still went to sleep that night with a smile on my face.
Notes:
Short chapter this time since it's what I ended up with after writing the last unexpected chapter. Chapter title is not only courtesy of my new character Matthew Ellis (I have a fondness for organ music) but also since the related chapter from the series was so focused on eyes, which I think counts as an organ of the body. My attempt on a play on words.
I have gotten busier lately, so I am sorry to say that I have not yet finished the last chapter that I wanted to have done for the first set of postings. Never fear, I do have the next chapter completed (related episode "100") so that will most definitely be posted next week. I may or may not have the chapter after that (related episode "Slave of Duty") ready. Cross your fingers.
My eternal and continuing gratitude to you all who have inspired me to keep going.
Cantoris