CHAPTER 25: Legacy (Season 2, episode 22)
Character(s): Hotch, Gideon (and JJ, briefly)
A/N: Slight references to the case, and quoted lines in the italicized flashback are courtesy of the episode's writer, Edward Allen Bernero.
"It seems to me that any full grown, mature adult would have a desire to be responsible, to help where he can in a world that needs so very much, that threatens us so very much." - Norman Lear
Tap, tap.
"Come in, JJ," Hotch murmured, not even looking up from his writing.
"You're good," JJ noted, smiling, as she came into the room. Hotch had become very well-versed in knowing who was on the other side of his office door based on their style of knocking.
"Well, I am a profiler," Hotch answered, looking up now, a cocky smirk on his face. That got a chuckle from JJ. "What do you need? Do we have another case?"
"No." JJ pulled a chair up in front of Hotch's desk, sitting down and facing him. "I just wanted to thank you for listening to me on this last case."
"You made a very persuasive argument. And those people clearly needed a lot of help."
"Well, McGee helped make that argument, really…" JJ began modestly. "I just figured he could use the support."
"You listened to him when the rest of us were skeptical. You deserve credit for trusting your gut."
JJ tried to hide the blush that crept up just then, the small pang of guilt that hit her in that very gut. It was true that her motivations for listening to McGee were partially rooted in helping to find these missing people. Sixty-three souls randomly disappearing was a chilling scenario to imagine, and the idea of ignoring that bizarre and tragic phenomenon seemed downright cold.
Key word being "partially", of course, as there was a much more personal motive behind her support of McGee. Thanks to spending so much time with Will, she also now had a much more intimate idea of what detectives dealt with day in and day out, in their towns as well as in their interaction with the FBI. She heard Will's voice in her head as McGee talked to her, presented his case. She could mentally hear his rants about how tough it is to get people to pay attention to what's going on in their town sometimes, the politics of the situations ("small government" meeting and clashing with "big government"). JJ couldn't help but take pity on McGee as a result, and yet the fact that she let personal bias seep into that decision still didn't quite sit right with her.
"JJ?"
JJ's head snapped up as she blinked. "Yes, Hotch?"
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." She tried to throw him a reassuring look, but his eyes, steady and focused as they were on her, told her he wasn't buying it.
She sighed. "Is it…a good thing to let your personal views affect how you view a case?"
"I think it's impossible to do this job and not let that happen at some point."
"But is it a good thing?" JJ stressed again.
Hotch paused thoughtfully. "Sometimes. I think, for instance, that it's good that my thoughts of Jack occupy me during cases where children are in danger. It helps with the motivation."
"But then you also see his face in all the bad things that happen on those cases," JJ pointed out.
"Yes. And that's a difficult thing to deal with. But it's also a reminder that this could happen to any of us, or to anyone we know and love, and while that is a scary thought, it also tells me that we should therefore treat and help others the way we'd like to be treated or helped."
"The Golden Rule," JJ murmured, nodding as a small smile began to creep up.
"Exactly." Hotch folded his hands atop his desk and looked meaningfully at JJ. "You'll never be able to remain completely impersonal during a case. Ultimately, your actions will tell me everything I need to know, and so long as you do your job well, that's the most important thing. If there are any other issues, we can deal with them later."
JJ nodded.
"You do good work, JJ. You always have. I meant what I said on the plane about respecting you."
Another blush, this time a bit rosier and brighter. "Thanks, Hotch," JJ said as she slowly stood from her chair. "I appreciate that."
"Anytime, JJ." He started to return to his work, only to glance up at her again. "Is there anything else you need?"
"No, I think that's it. Thanks again." With a final appreciative glance, JJ turned and left the office.
Hotch set aside his work and leaned back in his chair, reflecting on what he'd just talked about. He sensed JJ wasn't speaking in hypotheticals during their chat, and he had a pretty good suspicion as to why that was. He wondered if she could sense that he wasn't purely speaking in a "what if?" sense, either.
"Most of those people only cause trouble for each other."
Hotch found the familiar irritation he'd felt throughout the case flaring up again as Captain Wright's comments flooded his brain. It was bad enough that Wright was already in a pissy mood, after everything McGee had done to get the FBI down to Kansas City, and taking his frustration over that whole situation out on Hotch. But if that had been all that was bothering Wright, Hotch would have shrugged it off. He knew how local law enforcement worked, he'd dealt with the "How dare the FBI trample onto my crime scene!" temper tantrum more times than he'd cared to count. That whole scene was nothing more than a source of amusement to Hotch at this point.
No, what really rubbed Hotch the wrong way was Wright's seeming complete lack of concern, to put it politely, for the victims he was supposed to be helping save. He understood Wright was stretched thin. He understood that even if one tried to look out for everybody in their town, failures were unfortunately bound to happen.
But sixty-three people had vanished. Sixty-three homeless people. Yet Wright had shrugged it off as though this were a thing that happened every single day. It was part of the lifestyle of the homeless, to wander from place to place. Hotch would have been willing to concede that might be a fair point in and of itself…if perhaps it'd only been one homeless person who'd disappeared.
All of that was aggravating enough for Hotch to listen to. But then there was the insinuation that these people mostly brought their misfortune on themselves, that if they disappeared, it was their own fault, and why should anyone try to help them in that case?
That's when Hotch had finally snapped.
"What if they were cheerleaders?"
"Excuse me?" Wright demanded, turning to face Hotch.
"Or teachers? Or mothers?" Hotch tried to hide the smugness he felt upon seeing that he'd struck a nerve, upon watching Wright try to search for some way to "explain" his comments.
He wasn't done, either. "How did you put it, 'Can bums even be missing?'. Well, yes, they can. They can be hurt, they can be scared, and they can be killed."
God, that had felt good. It may not have been his most professional moment, but compared to Wright refusing to work a case because of the types of people involved, he was employee of the month. Hotch shuddered to think of how Wright would've reacted on some of the other cases he'd worked, let alone how he would've responded to what "lowly" situations the team had found themselves in.
Reid had been a drug addict, after all. Gideon had suffered a nervous breakdown. Elle had dealt with PTSD. Morgan had been abused. Reid, Morgan, and Elle had all come from homes that eventually turned into single parent situations, homes where everyone had to work extra hard to keep a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs. And in Reid's case, he had to see to it his own mother, who suffered from mental illness, got the help she needed.
One wouldn't know any of that just by looking at those four people, of course, because they were…not rich, really, but they certainly were able to afford the creature comforts and necessities of home and life in general. But they did fall into many of the same traps and problems all these currently missing people had fallen into and were dealing with.
Suppose it had been one of them running around homeless? Getting caught up with other druggies? Suppose they had let any abuse or mental problems they dealt with, or people they knew dealt with, mess them up even more?
Suppose they had found themselves doing things they never imagined they would do just to get some money for food, or to find a warm place to sleep at night? Hotch had seen how some of the prostitutes he and Reid had interviewed responded, heard some of the stories they shared about their own activities, the kinds of people they interacted with. He saw how polite and gentlemanly Reid was to the women, and found himself wondering how many "not-so-polite or gentlemanly" men these women had to encounter on a daily basis.
What would Wright have to say to all of that?
"You think they've all got houses and jobs," Hotch had snidely remarked at one point to Wright. He thought it was so easy for these missing people to turn their lives around? It could be done, sure, but it took a lot of work, and sometimes, it also took a lot of help.
Hotch had been to upscale neighborhoods. He'd been to rundown blocks. He'd talked with people who barely spoke any English, old people, gay people, rape victims, suburban families, and seemingly every other group of people imaginable.
His job was to try and understand people, to figure out why they did the things they did. Every encounter was different, of course – there were some actions he didn't think he'd ever understand no matter how long he lived. There were some people who were annoying. Some people who were wonderful. Some people who were bizarre.
But one common theme ran through every single interaction Hotch had over the years. Every single person wanted to be heard. To feel like they weren't so alone. They wanted someone to care about them, or at least understand them. Even the criminals Hotch interviewed had those same wishes. While he obviously didn't support what they did, and while he found it very hard to even consider trying to understand some of the more violent criminals…he also knew that it had to be done, for everyone's benefit.
The earlier mention of Jack had thoughts of the small child now running through Hotch's head. If he treated people so horribly, if he refused to help those who needed it, he knew he would feel incredibly guilty every time he looked at his son. Jack was such an innocent young toddler now, so full of happiness. The idea of him growing up and developing a dismissive attitude towards people horrified Hotch, and he knew Haley wouldn't support it, either. They'd vowed to make sure they instilled the values of compassion, acceptance, and love in their child.
Hotch felt that vow growing stronger with each passing day. For Jack, and for himself.
Gideon glanced around the room at his team, amused at their reactions to the Chaplin film.
Reid was thoroughly engrossed in the movie, no doubt bringing whatever knowledge he might've had about the history of film, silent film, Chaplin (pop culture may have been a bit of a blind spot with Reid, but somehow, Gideon had a feeling he knew a bit about olden day movie actors), projectors and how they worked, etc. to his viewing experience.
JJ and Prentiss were laughing, but not so much at the movie. They seemed to find pelting Reid with kernels of popcorn, and watching his reaction, much more entertaining.
Garcia was sat near Morgan, and the two of them were sharing food and being their usual flirty, silly selves.
And Hotch, Gideon's longtime friend and first protégé, was sat next to him, the two of them cracking up, their laughter blending together in a pleasant sound.
They'd all immediately jumped at the chance for a film session, cheering at the thought of breaking away from their desks and the endless paperwork for a few hours. But as Gideon observed the others at points throughout the film, he saw other positive effects of this idea.
Reid was finally able to focus on something pleasant for a change. Something that would provide him with happier memories to look back on, that he could have fun analyzing and studying for once, if he didn't want to simply let his brain take a break.
Prentiss was incredibly relaxed and at ease. She was chatting with JJ and teasing Reid as though she'd been doing both things for a couple years, instead of for only a few months.
JJ was positively giddy and playful, with an apparently permanent grin on her face. All obviously thanks to very special developments in her personal life of late (if she honestly thought the team didn't know about her and Will, that was almost as funny to Gideon as Charlie's antics on the screen), and Gideon smiled upon seeing her happiness becoming particularly infectious today.
Garcia and Morgan could both shove aside their "professional" mode for a few hours. They could kick back and just relax, and ramble or banter suggestively all they wanted.
And Hotch. He was able to turn off the work part of his brain and actually smile. He was able to look at everyone as friends, instead of a team he had to lead. And he could shut out that guilty conscience that had haunted him many times in recent months.
So much dramatic change and turmoil within the past year. Many times, Gideon wondered if he and his team had been cursed. Looking around at the six other people gathered in this room, though, these resilient, strong, healthy, caring people, Gideon realized that actually, it seemed he and his team were a very lucky bunch indeed.
He sent up a silent prayer that from here on out, that luck would stick.
"Man is the only animal that laughs and weeps; for he is the only animal that is struck with the difference between what things are and what they ought to be." - William Hazlitt, The English Comic Writers, 1819
As usual, I welcome reviews/critiques/etc.!