Apologies for the inconsistent posting schedule. Work has been crazy busy, so I haven't had a ton of time to write.
This one takes place in season 3's "Lo Fi" episode. It starts up right after Cooper is shot.
"Understanding does not cure evil, but it is a definite help, inasmuch as one can cope with a comprehensible darkness." – Carl Jung
"…it's almost like suicide by cop."
I'm struck by how rattled Emily looks. I've never seen her so visibly affected by a situation. She's able to explain what happened, answer questions, and make connections – all evidence of the strong Agent Prentiss we all know – but the sadness in her eyes is startling.
Her voice gives me reason to worry about her too. It's not the regular firm and assertive tone I'm used to hearing, and definitely not the snarky or sarcastic tone reserved for moments of levity. It's shaky and desperate as she talks through her own thoughts and realizes what this all could be.
Morgan's brow furrows slightly as her considers her theory. "Why? Why would he do that?"
She shakes her head as she realizes she can't answer that. "I don't know…maybe to make us think everything was finished."
It's rough, and it's not remotely certain, but it's making us reconsider what we thought we knew about these crimes. "We need to walk back through this profile," Morgan says, voicing what we're all thinking.
Emily nods, but turns her attention back to wiping the blood from her hands. Morgan turns away and looks down the alley toward Reid, Rossi, Agent Joyner, and Hotch, who are in a circle and talking with serious expressions on their faces.
I reach out a hand and touch her arm. "Hey, are you okay?" I ask, when I realize I hadn't given her a chance to answer earlier when Morgan had asked her the same thing.
She offers a sad, half smile and a shrug. I can understand that – she did just shoot a kid, and Cooper's condition isn't exactly reassuring either.
"You did what you had to do."
"I know," she says, nodding in understanding. "It's just- God, he's just a kid. Look at him, he can't be more than what – 19? 20?"
"Yeah," I agree ruefully. It' always tough to see people in these situations, and even harder when the unsub is young. "But that 19 or 20-year-old just killed someone and then shot a cop."
"I know," she agrees with a heavy sigh.
"C'mon, I'll give you a ride back," I suggest, figuring that she probably wants to get away from the scene.
"Yeah," she replies with a nod, her expression almost vacant. It's like she's operating on auto-pilot. I just can't figure out if it's because of the trauma, or because of the wheels turning in her head to try and piece these clues together.
I gesture to our right and let her walk slightly in front of me. I catch Reid's eye and hold up my keys to let him know we're heading off. My gaze swings back to Emily as I follow her toward the SUV that's parked just down the street. She's still wiping at her hands, and I can't say I blame her. Her hands had been covered in Cooper's blood when we first arrived on scene and she was talking to the medics and Detective Brustin. There's no evidence of the blood remaining on her hands, but she's still wiping her fingers absently.
"You want to swing by the hotel and grab a change of clothes?" I ask, knowing that it's more than just offering the opportunity to get some clean clothes. It's also a chance for her to collect her thoughts, to ground herself and compartmentalize like she usually does.
"No, I'm fine," she answers right away. "Let's head straight back."
"You got it," I reply with a nod, watching as her steps speed up. I can't say I'm surprised she wants to get right back to work. It's not like Emily Prentiss to rest for a moment – hell, it's not like any of us to take a breath while on a case, especially one like this where we're frustratingly not making much progress.
It's just moments later when we reach the SUV and head back towards the precinct. I chance an occasional glance over at her, to try and get a read on how she's doing, but her expression is pure focus. Her eyes are fixed on the dashboard in front of her, and she's still absently wiping at the invisible blood on her hands.
I stop at a red light and take the opportunity to scrutinize her a little more in depth. Before I can reach any conclusions, she stops the movement of her hands and looks up.
"Terrorism," she says quietly.
I frown. "What?"
"Terrorism," she repeats. My eyebrows rise in surprise, and she must take this as a sign of my skepticism, because she launches into an explanation. "Think about it. There's multiple unsubs, they're more than likely using counter-surveillance, they're calm and disciplined, they know where the FBI are investigating and stationed… It all points to terrorism."
It does make sense… In fact, it makes a lot more sense than a multiple unsub partnership theory.
"I've seen this kind of thing before – trust me, it fits."
I frown again. She's seen it before? Where? She came off a desk job… "You have?"
She blinks rapidly and licks her lips. "What?" she asks, confused by my question apparently.
"You said you've seen this kind of thing before. I was just wondering where."
"Oh, just in case files that came across my desk," she explains.
I can't help but shake the feeling that her vague response is just a little too vague. Spencer came from an academic background via Gideon, Morgan worked his way up through Chicago PD and was recruited by the Bureau, Rossi is a founding member of the BAU, Garcia was caught in some hacking and offered a job, and Hotch was a prosecutor before he joined the Bureau and worked his way up the ranks. I have a basic knowledge of where everyone came from…but Prentiss' background is a bit of a mystery. I know she had been riding a desk in the Bureau for more than a few years before she somehow was assigned to the BAU under suspicious circumstances to say the least, but that's all we know. She'd never expanded on it. Not even during ladies' nights out. And Garcia hadn't found out anything – she would've told me right away if she had. Fitting, I suppose, that she's a bit of a mystery – she tends to give off a bit of a mysterious vibe/aura/presence. It's part of what draws the attention of many hopeful and curious strangers while we're out at bars enjoying our days off.
"Right," I say with a nod. I let it go, because there's no sense pushing her on it. She's not going to give me anything, and I'm not a skilled enough profiler to notice anything in her behaviour anyway. "So if's terrorists behind this, what's their target?" I pose, glancing over and meeting her gaze for a moment.
Her brow furrows in concentration. "I'm not sure. I'd have to look at Reid's geographic profile again and see if there's any similarity between the scenes."
"This is good though, right?" I ask, my focus swinging back to navigating New York City's traffic. "That we finally know what we're dealing with, I mean," I amend, when I realize that my words hadn't come out the way I'd intended.
She shrugs. "It helps. Hopefully we can narrow down what they're targeting and that will give us something to go on to catch them."
Her words linger in the air as we both consider the ramifications of our newfound potential theory. It means we're dealing with a lot more sophisticated unsubs than we thought, and that things are a lot more dangerous than we'd initially believed.
I glance over again and find her looking out the window, her leg bouncing lightly. I take a wild guess (that's maybe not so wild) that she's worried about Cooper. "He's in good hands, Em. New York's got some of the best doctors in the world."
"I know," she replies, her gaze never leaving the passing shop fronts.
"There's nothing else you could've done, Em," I say, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze.
"Yeah," she replies, and I get the feeling that she's not really listening to me.
"How far away are you guys?" she asks, talking into her phone that's pressed tightly to her ear. Her tone is even now, but there's still just something about her that's giving off an almost anxious vibe. It's like she can't handle the waiting. I'm used to Morgan not being able to sit still, but Emily is usually composed, even if she's dying to jump into action. It's part of what makes the two of them such a strong partnership – they balance each other out in that regard. But right now it's almost like she's got no filter, and it's all plain to see.
"Okay," she says with a nod, replying to whatever answer she got from Morgan – who she'd called a few minutes after we arrived. "Yeah, see ya."
She turns and I ask the silent question with a look.
"They'll be here in a minute – they're just parking. They came up with the same theory of terrorism," she explains.
"Well at least we're all on the same page. If more than one of you guys are coming up with that theory, it probably makes sense to really examine it, right?"
"Yeah," she replies distractedly.
Her attention had apparently been caught by a stain of blood on her shirt, which she is now carefully rubbing with her fingers as though it's the first time she's seen blood on fabric. It's like she's investigating it and carefully filing away all the features of it in her mind. A minute passes and her fingers begin to rub at the stain a little more intently, and her expression shifts to one of complete focus.
"Hey," I say softly, reaching over to still her fingers' movements and break her from whatever trance she's in, which no doubt is involving a whole lot of misattributed guilt.
She drops her hands immediately and meets my gaze with a hard expression. Message received – leave it alone. I retract my hand and offer an apologetic look. Looks like that filter is back up and she's compartmentalizing again.
"There's nothing more you-"
"I know," she snaps. "I'm fine. Just drop it." My eyebrows rise in shock at her biting tone, and she seems to realize the sharpness that had accompanied her words. "Sorry, I just- I just want to catch these sons of bitches, you know?"
I nod in understanding. It's a feeling we all know well.
Before I can reply, the rest of the team returns and immediately begins throwing out parts of the new theory being considered. Emily jumps in at the first opportunity, no doubt eager to get as far away as possible from the topic of her role in Cooper's shooting.
She'll be okay, that much I'm sure of. But today has reiterated that even though she may like to believe herself unflappable, even Emily Prentiss is vulnerable to moments of doubt and anxiety, just as we all are. I just hope after this case is done she processes all of this properly, and doesn't just pretend it didn't happen.
So...how do you think this fits in with the episode? Do JJ's observations track? Did Prentiss' reaction make sense? Let me know.