CHAPTER 21: Identity (Season 3, episode 7)

Character(s): Rossi, Morgan

A/N: Slight spoilers for the case. Quoted lines from Townsend courtesy of the episode's writer, Oanh Ly. Brief nod to the episode "About Face", too.

Thanking all of you once again who've been favoriting/following/commenting on this series. Your support, as always, is greatly appreciated.

"The value of identity, of course, is that so often with it comes purpose." - Richard R. Grant

"So. How was it?"

Morgan glanced back towards the voice that had suddenly piped up. Rossi was standing there staring at him, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

oooo

"They sure as hell don't care about you now. There are five other members of your team. Look around you. Why the hell did they send you in here?"

Their eyes. He remembered their eyes most of all. Suspicious, wary…disgusted.

He'd seen those uncomfortable stares before. Part of it was due to the line of work he was in, of course. He'd noticed how the locals reacted to the mention or presence of the FBI throughout the day, and the people at Townsend's bar were no exception in that regard.

But he also knew the other reason they were uncomfortable with seeing him there.

oooo

Morgan shrugged. "It was about what you'd expect," he said nonchalantly. "They were hesitant, standoffish, but I managed to get them to talk about Goehring and his partner a little bit." He turned back around and began to carefully ease himself back down the cliffside. Rossi quietly followed.

Just as Morgan approached the SUV, Rossi spoke up again. "Sorry."

"For what?" Morgan shot Rossi a confused look.

"That you had to deal with that."

A dismissive wave of the hand from the younger man. "You wanted them to be thrown off a little. I get it." He then yanked the door open and climbed inside the backseat of the vehicle. Rossi simply sighed, heading towards the front.

Morgan was seething. But not at Rossi.

He really did understand Rossi's thinking. Their job involved messing with people's minds. Playing weird games. Shaking them up a little bit. For what it was worth, he definitely enjoyed letting Townsend know just how obnoxious he thought he was. He hated the discomfort in the bar, in part, because he was concerned for JJ's safety as well as his own (and speaking of JJ, he found it rather amusing that a guy so arrogant and pig-headed could also be so chivalrous when it came to women).

But at the same time, he had to admit, it was a bit fun making those folks encounter people they normally wouldn't interact with. He was forcing them to deal with any prejudices they had head on. They had to listen to and answer to him, whether they wanted to or not.

Of course, that's not to say they made it easy. The bar owner, Townsend, did all the talking, for one thing. For another, he did it in the most condescending way possible.

"How has the federal government ever helped your people?" Townsend had asked, his tone snide and dripping.

Your people. In any other instance, Morgan might've decked the guy for such a comment. As if this idiot had any idea, as if he truly cared, about what people who weren't like him had gone through.

The funny thing was, though, on some level, Morgan couldn't entirely disagree with Townsend's comments. The federal government was far from perfect. They were not always kind to groups of people who didn't fit their ideal belief system, or ethnicity, or skin color, or so forth. These were undeniable facts.

However, there were far better ways to discuss such topics, of course. The jingoistic, cocky tone Townsend took was definitely the wrong way. To say nothing of the fact that his comments had nothing whatsoever to do with the actual situation at hand, either. They were trying to find a missing woman, they didn't have time to sit around and listen to his inane ramblings.

But hell, Morgan could even manage to deal with all of that. Unfortunately, he'd come across far more offensive comments and behaviors in his job, and life in general. This guy was just one of those irritating, yet ultimately harmless, chest-puffing blowhard types.

No, what particularly bugged him about the whole exchange was the idea that this guy actually tried, in his own warped way, to sympathize with Morgan. He tried to put the two of them on the same level somehow. It would've been comical if it wasn't so bizarre.

"I hate the government. But you. You should despise them."

Townsend had obviously forgotten one other notable thing about the history of certain maligned groups in this country. Many people who were dismissed and treated as second-class citizens by their own government also fought hard for the government, as well as the country at large. They could disagree with the politics, the people, yes. But at the end of the day, helping other people was far more important than anything else.

Morgan had to be witness to and a participant in two very tragic, horrific events in his own life. He knew full well from an early age that he didn't want anyone else to suffer the same way he did, and when he realized others were struggling, or were in danger, it bothered him immensely.

That was what led him to a career as a cop in Chicago. To helping kids at a community center in that same city.

And ultimately, it was what led him to joining the FBI. He loved the fact that he worked alongside six other people who cared as much about justice and saving people's lives as he did. He lived for the happy endings to the cases he worked. And when a case didn't end like he wanted it to, that was only further motivation for him to not let that happen next time.

Sure, his job had its drawbacks, its idiocy, its outdated thinking.

But if he and his team could help improve and fix all of that, while helping a lot of good people along the way? It was all worth the struggle and frustration.

He just hoped that someday, the Townsends of the world would come to understand that fact.

In the front passenger seat, Rossi also found himself deep in thought.

He had to bring up Ruby Ridge. It's either that or Waco. Always these guys' trump card.

Well, we were right today, weren't we? Rossi couldn't hide the smug smile. Townsend had thankfully chosen to put aside his contemptuous views, and listened to and worked with the FBI. As a result, a young woman was rescued, her attacker was now in custody, and a small town was safe once again.

He understood, of course, why the Ruby Ridge and Waco incidents had rubbed so many people the wrong way. Mistakes had definitely been made, and innocent lives were tragically lost.

Somehow, though, Rossi suspected that for some of these anti-government types, those disasters were an excuse for deeper issues. What exactly those issues were was hard to pinpoint – if he dug deep enough he'd find they probably ran the gamut, anything from a simple, logical fear of losing their privacy to the paranoid idea that the government was doing secret experiments on the citizens.

But it all stemmed from a definite lack of trust, be it in something or someone. That much was for certain.

Still, though, when the government got it right, like they did today, one would think that'd count for something. Shouldn't it?

Course, then again, who was he to be lamenting about the issue of trust? He'd found a couple of his teammates poking around his office before the case began, trying to dig up any possible information about him. Profiling him. Like they did their unsubs. What did that say about their trust?

To be fair to them, though, he had gotten off on a bit of a wrong foot with the team upon joining them. He'd gone full steam ahead in Dallas recently with that "missing person" flyer case, brushing off everyone else along the way. He barely got involved in the team briefing, confronted the unsub head on without figuring out a group tactic, made his own little notes that he didn't share with the others. It took his longtime friend, Hotch, the lone person he truly trusted at the time, to knock some sense into him and make him start properly working with the others. He had to learn about them, so it was only fair, after all, that they'd want to do the same with him.

That young kid, Reid, was the only one to try and insist his friends stop their investigating. He'd seemed to accept Rossi right away, for some reason – and he didn't think it had that much to do with his fame as an author. Sure, Reid apparently could quote passages from one of Rossi's books verbatim, which was…a bit spooky and weird. Sure, he seemed very eager to discuss the things Rossi had written about.

But in his case, his interest seemed less like that of a fawning fan and more like that of an academically-focused student, which was a rather refreshing change of pace. He was an unusual young man, but Rossi had to admit, the kid was kinda growing on him. Anyone who could be referred to as "a pipe cleaner with eyes" and not even flinch at the comment, who walked right on up to a place knowing full well the owner hated trespassers, with his own gun in easy reach…well…Rossi had to admire their guts.

He did like the others on the team, too. There was another reason he wanted Morgan to go to the bar, aside from freaking out the townsfolk a little. Morgan was a tough, go-getter type of guy. He didn't have time for any nonsense, and he was more than ready to jump into the action when needed. He could barely contain himself at the hill when they had Henry Frost in their sights. In many ways, he reminded Rossi of himself at that age, and he liked people who loved their job and put in the hard work and energy required.

JJ held her own in that bar, too, from what Rossi had heard, and that didn't surprise him. She was a quiet young woman, gentle, sweet, and obviously cute. But she also had that sporty, athletic look to her. She seemed to be the kind of girl who would get up and run in the mornings, who could be aggressive and competitive on the field during a game. All good traits for this job.

He hadn't gotten a chance to interact much with Prentiss on this case, but from what he did see, she appeared to have an eerily perceptive ability. She was the one who'd figured out the deeply intimate connection Frost had with Goehring, after all. She also seemed to be amazingly patient. He didn't think he'd be able to stand more than five minutes of those tapes she had been watching, but she went through all of them as though it were a regular movie night. And if she was affected by the content, she hid it pretty well.

Not much up and close interaction with Garcia, either, as she was back home in Virginia. He still didn't quite know what to make of her, with her flamboyance and incredibly enthusiastic demeanor. But she did seem nice, and was also pretty impressive with her tech skills, so that was something.

These people were strong. Smart. Resilient. Dedicated. They felt comfortable around each other, would put their lives in each other's hands anytime. Rossi knew, despite the initial wariness and conflict, that they would be willing to protect him, too, if needed, and he would do the same for them, without question.

Unfortunately, that realization made him feel even guiltier about the fact that he was still so hesitant to bring up his real reason for returning to the BAU. "Unfinished business", he'd called it, and for a man who'd been praised as a great writer, that was a really dumb choice of phrase. Too mysterious, too much intrigue.

He knew why he didn't tell them what the reason was, of course. It was something personal for him. He knew the others would do a good job helping him, of that he had no doubt.

But he still felt this was a situation best handled alone. He was fine with the team horning in on present situations involving him. The idea of them getting involved in things related to his past, however…

Rossi turned to look at the backseat, where Morgan and Emily currently sat, heads resting against the windows as they slept soundly. Hotch stole a brief glance at him, eyebrow raised, before the two of them turned back, Hotch staring out the windshield, Rossi out his side window.

Clearly, there was still a little ways to go on that "teamwork" thing.

"The only way to make a man trustworthy is to trust him." - Henry L. Stimson

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