Morgan wasn't in the mood for conversation. Mabel however, was an incessant chatterbox. He tried losing himself in the noise but she wanted to engage him. Maybe the distraction would be good.
"Where are you from Agent Morgan?"
"Chicago."
"No kidding! So am I!"
"Really?" Surprised he quickly glanced at her.
"Got any family?"
"Yes. My mother and two sisters."
"Must be nice having family. Are you all close?"
"Very. How about you, any family?"
"No. I'm afraid I've out lived everyone in my family."
He noticed the sadness in her face. He couldn't imagine not having his mother and sisters to drive him crazy and to love him the same way.
"I'm sorry to hear that. What brought you to Virginia?"
"I had some family business to take care of. It was supposed to be a short stay but it took longer than expected so, I settled here."
"I guess it's as good as any where else."
"Perhaps. Its just hard being alone; no husband, no children…"
Morgan kept his eyes on the road not knowing what to say to comfort the virtual stranger that he'd only met less than 24 hours ago. Besides, his mind was still on the fact that he'd been suspended from his job for refusing a senseless request from Hotch. He'd never been placed in a situation like this before and he wasn't sure how it would all end. One thing for certain, he wasn't going to turn his back on Elle even if it meant losing his job.
BAU –
Rossi walked into Hotch's office carrying two glasses of scotch. It was one of those days and he'd seen Morgan come and go in a huff. He knew Hotch was insisting on something that Morgan couldn't deliver. The two men had had their conflicts in the past but they respected each other and trusted each other. There was more behind this than perhaps any of them realized or cared to admit.
"You're wrong." Rossi began handing the drink to Hotch.
Hotch took the drink and sipped the brown liquid letting it slowly burn its way down his throat.
"You're asking him to do something he can't do." He continued.
"Rossi…"
"No. Aaron, trust me, you don't want to do this."
"I can't let Elle get away with cold-blooded murder."
"Is it the fact that she may or may not have shot someone in cold-blood or is it the fact that she walked away from you and this team without talking to you first, apologizing and asking for your blessing?"
"Dave…"
"Or maybe she did something you thought about doing countless of times. We deal with unspeakable evil every day and we all have our breaking point. Elle snapped."
"Don't tell me you're justifying what she did."
"I'm not trying to justify anything. What I'm saying is, don't ruin a man's career, someone you love like a brother, because of some unresolved feelings that you have against Elle!"
Hotch set the glass on the desk and let his head fall against the back of his chair.
"If someone made the same request of you, what would you do?" Rossi added.
Hotch new Rossi was right. He'd let his anger against Elle cause him to strike out against Morgan.
"So it must be quite a burden being right all the time." Hotch joked.
"Right." Rossi chuckled.
Rossi lifted his drink tilting it toward his friend and finished it off. Hotch followed suit. Rossi poured them another and they sat in silence enjoying the expensive alcohol.
"So, what do I do about Morgan?"
"Make it right but it can wait until morning. You both need to cool off."
Hotch nodded and drained his glass.
Home of Mabel Henry –
Morgan pulled up in front of a small well-kept house. It was older and had a certain charm that seemed to fit Mabel. It had taken 45 minutes to drive there from FBI Headquarters but the time passed quickly. He actually enjoyed the conversation with the older woman who'd done her best to help him find his team. It was still odd that she had missed the obvious location but it was just further proof that there was only one Penelope Garcia; her skills were unmatched when it came to helping them hunt down the bad guys.
"Why don't you come in for a few minutes?"
"I better not. Maybe another time?"
"Silly me, of course you have better things to do than spend five or ten minutes with a boring old lady."
Yep, just like his grandmother. Able to press that guilt button at will. He saw something in Mabel's eyes he hadn't seen before; sadness, loneliness? He wasn't quite sure.
"Okay, just a few minutes then I really have to get back."
"Wonderful! I have my church group coming over anyway so I won't keep you long."
Morgan followed her up the walkway to the front door. He looked around at all of the beautiful flowers lining the porch in bright colored pots of varying sizes. He imagined her spending her Saturday mornings sitting in the wicker rocker drinking coffee and reading the paper.
Mabel unlocked the door and the fruity smell of potpourri hit him lightly in the face. She quickly disappeared into the kitchen and he slowly let his eyes roam around the room.
"Have a seat and make yourself at home." She called from the kitchen.
He continued to look around the room, lifting old black and white pictures of a man and woman he supposed were her parents. He also saw a picture that was a much younger version of Mabel and another woman that was a little older.
"That's me and my sister when we were younger."
Startled Morgan set the picture down and turned to face Mabel.
"Sorry, I was just curious."
"No worries. I have nothing to hide."
He picked up another picture of two little boys and began studying it.
"Those are my precious boys."
"Quite handsome little guys."
"I must confess that I wasn't a very good mother."
"I'm sure that's not true."
"Yes it is. I was 16 when they were born. My sister, Tammy and her husband took them in and raised them as theirs."
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"It's fine. It was a long time ago. I became their "Aunt" and I got to watch them grow up and be a part of their life."
"Where are they now?"
"They're dead."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Shot dead in the prime of their lives."
Morgan watched the life drain from her face as her admission was interrupted by the hissing sound of a teakettle.
"Excuse me for minute."
Mabel rushed away into the kitchen. Morgan continued to examine the old pictures. There was nothing beyond her childhood or beyond the boy's childhood. He could only imagine the tragedy that must have taken them away at a young age.
Mabel rejoined him in the front room carrying a large silver tray setting it down on the cocktail table in front of the couch.
"Join me for a nice hot cup of tea, Agent?"
"Uh…no I'm not a tea drinker."
"Oh come on. It's a special brew that I put together myself. Fancy myself a connoisseur of sorts."
"Thanks but I better get going."
"Okay but can you help me bring something up from the basement before you leave? I need a few extra chairs for my ladies meeting."
"Sure no problem."
Morgan checked his watch and followed her toward the basement. He wanted to make it quick so that he could get back to Garcia.
Mabel opened the door of the basement and stepped aside smiling as he passed her and stepped onto the stair landing. Things weren't going as she had originally planned. The tea would have made things so much easier for her but like always she had a back up plan.
As Morgan slowly descended the steps into the dark musty basement, Mabel grabbed the kettle that she had just used to boil the water for the tea. She held it tightly and thought of her nephews, her sons being shot dead; first Antoine then Andrew. She had been responsible for burying both of them her only real act as their mother. Revenge would be the gift to herself. Then with all of her strength she swung the kettle landing with a hard thud against the head of the unsuspecting man.
Morgan stunned by a sudden pain tumbled down the stairs landing hard on the cold cement floor of Mabel Henry's basement. He didn't see it coming, didn't realize that when he'd seen her fretting over her disabled car in the FBI garage that it was all a part of a diabolical plan to end his life. Pain overcame his senses as the darkness pulled him in and held him tight.
"You should have drunk the tea!"
Mabel smiled and closed the door locking it behind her.