Don't own Criminal Minds and never will sadly.

Chapter 7: Whiskey Girl

Derek stepped off the jet with a weary sigh. While the case had been pretty cut and dry, he hadn't slept since before they had left Quantico. A middle-aged accountant had been killing women who reminded him of his mother. The Unsub's signature had been too unique to not be caught at it. They'd only been in Biloxi for two days before they arrested him.

However, two years previously he had watched as a young mother scooped up her trembling daughter and tried not to be hysterical when he informed her that Liam was dead. Derek and Ashley hadn't spoken on the first anniversary of his death; she hadn't picked up her phone. He couldn't let it go unacknowledged this year, especially since they were so close. So, even though he was dog-tired he navigated his SUV to Ashley's place. He steeled himself; this wasn't going to be easy. He had to see her though and share his sorrow; even if it would be tough to break down whatever barrier she put up.

The lights were out and the townhouse looked desolate. He rapped heavily on the door anyways. He waited, knocked again, waited, and then heard a slight shuffling. Ashley opened the door and looked at him intently. She was wearing black yoga pants and a Blackhawks t-shirt. Her hair was piled precariously on her head and her feet were bare. There was a blush that had ridden up her face from the deep scarlet across her chest. Her gorgeous eyes were bloodshot and Derek couldn't determine if her eyes were that way because of crying or alcohol.

"I would tell you to leave but you're not going to and I'd rather not fight. It's not going to make anything better." Ashley said and walked toward her kitchen.

He followed her into the kitchen and cringed at the sight of the partially finished bottle of Maker's Mark. She offered him a shot glass and he shook his head.

"You can't stay if you ain't gonna drink." He eyed the glass skeptically.

"A whiskey girl?"

"If you start singing that damn republican's song, I'll slap you." His eyebrows knitted together and took the shot from her hand. He threw it back and it left a trail of warmth to his stomach. The warmth of the liquor reminded him that he hadn't eaten since lunch, so he grabbed a bag of pretzels from the pantry.

"What are you trying to off yourself?"

"I'm sure as hell trying."

They took a few more shots before they moved to the couch. He'd grabbed a beer and remembered the old adage, "Beer then liquor, never been sicker. Liquor then beer have no fear." He knew he'd be fine as he munched on the pretzels, but Ashley's eyes were glassy and she looked as if she was treading somewhere miles away or years away. They just sat. Ashley's toes hung over the edge of the cushion and she wiggled them as she thought. Derek's eyes wandered over the pictures in the room as he chewed methodically on the pretzels and he noticed a distinct difference. She had removed the direct reminders of her son and Jerry.

"I used to call him my Morgan Freeman baby." She whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, he had this tonal quality with his voice that resembled Freeman's. Obviously, his was higher and childlike but it sometimes frightened me when he spoke. And he had those freckles. My freckles on his daddy's skin." She smiled and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I wish I could've met him," he responded wiping hastily at his cheeks.

"Me too," She said; a sad smile lingering on her lips.

They sat quietly for a few moments. Before she turned to him and whispered, "I'm glad you came, thank you."

"You're welcome, I…" and before he could finish his sentence she had swung herself into his lap and kissed him fiercely. She gripped his cotton shirt in both hands and demanded a response both with her lips and her grip.

BREAK

The team had immediately rushed out of the station to follow leads and speak with Jerry. They had left Agent Jareau. Ashley felt that Agent Jareau was only there to babysit her. The entire station kept looking at her like she was a ticking time bomb of doom. She walked purposefully over to Agent Jareau.

"I'm going to go see Jerry."

"The agents have got it under control, Miss Barton. You're best off here or going home and getting some rest."

A snort escaped Ashley and Ashley let out a laugh that was neither humorous nor hysterical, but more outraged. "I don't remember asking your permission, Agent, I was informing you of my location in case there was any news about my children. Now if you'll excuse me."

"The agents are at the hospital now; it wouldn't do to upset him."

Ashley livid laugh was loud this time, "I'll try not to upset his delicate sensibilities, but I'm going."

"Let me drive you."

"Agent, I brought my own car, I know where the hospital is, and I'll be fine."

"Please."

"Alright."

They drove in relative silence; the only sound was a local radio station playing quietly. JJ was exasperated, but understood that Ashley was trying to take care of her children. If something happened to Henry, she knew she'd want to do something not stand around a police station pacing and being handled like hazardous material. When they got to the hospital, they rushed inside. They walked to Jerry's room and the team was standing there. They looked frustrated. Ashley made a move to enter the room, but Hotch stopped her.

"We're still interviewing Mr. Smith," Hotch informed her.

"And I'm sure it's going swimmingly," she said crossing her arms across her chest and staring up at Hotch not blinking.

"Excuse me."

"Let me guess, you sent in him," she indicated pointing at Morgan and then she pointed at Rossi, "and him. And his reaction sucked. You thought he'd relate to the black agent, but let me tell you something he wanted to work in law enforcement and shoving a successful version of himself in his face is not gonna work. And this one over here, I'm sure he made some ridiculous mafia reference complete with an over exaggerated accent. That is what happened isn't it?"

They looked at her their shock unmitigated for a second before they returned their shields.

"You don't have to answer that, I know it's what happened. Plus, he has this inflated sense of self where he believes that he is Superman and can save everybody from the shit that happens in this world. Let me go in; I can get him to talk."

"Miss Barton, we are trained to do our job and do it well. And that's exactly what we're going to do." Hotch said with utter conviction.

"I'm sure at some point you'll get some kind of answer out of him, but I could do it much faster. I've known him for years, over a decade. You may be profilers and in any other situation I'm sure you could do it way better than me. But I know Jerry."

The team looked hesitant, except Rossi who was always willing to throw people into stressful situations. Rossi wanted answers and wanted them fast, but Hotch looked unconvinced.

"Plus, I'm his kryptonite."

"Excuse me," Hotch said.

"Remember how I said he thought he was Superman. Well tada, his kryptonite," she said spinning in a sardonic circle.

"Miss Barton," Hotch sighed.

"We don't have time for this; I'll go in with her," Rossi informed Hotch as he led her into the hospital room.

"Thank you," She whispered to Rossi.

"Ash," Jerry questioned.

"Hey, Jer. How are you feeling?" She walked over and caressed his cheek softly.

"Sore," he replied and he held her hand to his cheek.

"Jer, I'm so scared. Who could have taken our kids?"

"I don't know, I'm not sure. If they'd just let me out maybe I could figure it out."

"No Jer, I can't lose you too," she sobbed as tears started streak down her face. "Tell them who could've done this."

"Mac Benjamin." He replied softly to her pleading. She pulled away quickly from Jerry and exited the room. She rubbed angrily at the tears. The team looked at her confusedly.

"Mac Benjamin. I think he was Jerry's drug dealer or maybe he is," She started to sob cripplingly, "Fuck," she cussed as she wiped aggressively at her cheeks. "That's who you should start with."

The team dispersed quickly and Morgan flipped open his phone to start Garcia on his trail. Rossi laid a hand on Ashley's shoulder and gave a slight squeeze.

"You did good, kid." He said as went to join the team.

"You own yourself, so if you want to do something that destroys yourself, go ahead. Just don't harm others when you do." -Jim Goebel