TW: mention of murder, mention and feature of gangs, mention and reference to sexual assault and child grooming, mention of guns, sexual references, brief feature of misogynists, mild language, police presence.
profiler, profiled, part one of one.
" a man who can't trust himself can never really trust anyone else. " - jean françois paul de gondi
-
"Ok, turn back and observe," Spencer said, gesturing to the four women gathered around his desk. Spencer often engaged in something he liked to call 'physics magic' when they didn't have cases, just for something to do. And he had been showing his make-shift rocket to JJ, Garcia, and Genevieve when it had hit Emily (the new agent who had been brought in to replace Elle) in the face as she walked over to her desk. Everyone had gotten slightly scared when they saw it hit her, but the woman was amicable, awkward, and knew how to take a joke, so she wasn't upset, and insisted that he show her.
But of course, because it was magic, none of them could watch his rocket in the making and had to turn their backs while he prepared it.
They all stared in anticipation as it fizzled, and then popped. Everyone let out a shocked cry as it did so, and laughed until it landed at the feet of their unit chief, who was walking in for the day. Garcia, JJ, Genevieve and Emily all hastened to split up, effectively throwing Spencer under the bus as their boss picked up the rocket and walked over to his desk.
"Physics magic, Reid?" Hotch asked, arching his eyebrow.
"Yes, sir," Spencer said meekly, looking down at his hands. Keeping a stony expression on his face, the unit chief placed the rocket back down on his desk.
"Reid, we talked about this," He said sternly. He turned to walk away, and as he did so, he flashed the young genius a smile. "You're really starting to get some distance on those,"
+++
The team were a man down, as Derek had taken some personal time to go visit his family in Chicago for his mother's birthday, which, according to Spencer, was an annual occurrence. But it didn't really matter, as there weren't any cases for them to be worked on. So, Hotch had let them all go home early.
Genevieve was attempting to make dinner - peanut stir fry, and it wasn't going too well. You should just stick to the one thing you're good at - ordering take out. She thought to herself as she taste-tested her creation, grimacing as she did so. Her phone rang, and she turned around to get it, sucking on her thumb, which had been burned in the process of cooking.
"Taylor," She answered the phone.
"Agent Taylor, there has been an emergency recall on agents in the Behavioural Analysis Unit, authorised by Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. All personnel are expected in no less than half an hour," The robotic voice of the Quantico receptionist, Beth Sanders, said monotonously.
"Alright, I'll be there. Thanks, Beth," She said, mentally mapping out how long it would take her to grab a falafel wrap from the food cart a block away from work.
+++
The SUV drive to the Chicago police precinct was more quiet than usual. It's like everybody was too scared to bring up what had been said on the jet. Hotch had received a call from Chicago P.D, saying that Derek had been arrested and was currently being held in custody for homicide.
"Special Agent Hotchner, FBI. I'm looking for Detective Gordinski," Hotch said sharply to the first cop he saw as the team strode into the precinct.
"I got this, Chuck," A bald man in his late forties and a grey suit walked up to them. The cocky smirk on his face already make Genevieve take a strong disliking towards him. "How you guys doing? I'm Wally Dennison, CPD,"
"Where's agent Morgan?" The unit chief said, breezing past all the niceties.
"Detective Gordinski's in with the suspect right now,"
"I need to see him," Hotch said, as everybody tensed at the detective referring to Derek as a suspect.
"When my partner's finished talking to him," Dennison replied coolly. Emily's eyebrows arched, and Spencer looked down at his hands. Genevieve pursed her lips to hide her smile, knowing what was coming. No one talks to Hotch like that.
"I have your superintendent's personal cell number. And in the interest of not running roughshod over another police agency, I've resisted calling him. So far. I need to see Agent Morgan. Now,"
Dennison's expression changed from smug to affronted. He seemed to be thinking it through before he placed his hands on his hips.
"I'll get Gordinski. He's the primary,"
+++
It turns out that Gideon had actually consulted on the case, and had provided the profile that led to Detective Gordinski zeroing in on Derek as his primary suspect. It was a classic case of tunnel vision, and while the team was attempting to get him to see some sense, Genevieve had left to talk to Rodney Harris, a gangbanger that Derek suspected of the murders, according to Hotch.
Gideon had tried to go with her, but she told him that she would be fine. They both knew Rodney's type - a misogynistic womanizer with zero respect, but Gideon was the only one that Gordinski remotely respected, so he needed to stay behind and argue Derek's case. So, as a compromise, he sent Spencer with her.
"Rodney Harris?" She called out, as the pair walked down the alley in which Derek had said most of Rodney's crew hung out in. The alley was practically crawling with gang members, all sending the sibling pair furtive stares. "Rodney Harris?"
A tall, well-built man with dark skin and bright jewellery swaggered up to him, three other guys flanking him.
"Who's asking?" He asked, walking up to the pair of profilers, his arms crossed.
"Supervisory Special Agent Genevieve Taylor, and Doctor Spencer Reid. FBI," She said, holding her badge up, catching him giving her body a not-so-subtle once-over.
"Derek Morgan's girlfriend? And his pet pipe cleaner?" Rodney laughed, casting a disgusted look to Spencer, who smiled coldly.
"We work with Agent Morgan," She replied. "We're here consulting on the homicide investigation of Damien Walters. Know anything about it?"
"Damien Walters?" Rodney repeated, puzzled. He'd never heard the name before.
"He's one of the community centre kids," One of Rodney's backup thugs said.
"Oh nah, lady, we don't touch them. You think we wanna have the cops all over our ass?" He said quickly.
"You don't already?" Spencer asked, tilting his head.
"Well, we don't want them in our business more than they already are," Rodney corrected. Genevieve watched carefully. He wasn't exhibiting any tells that contradicted his story. He was genuinely surprised when he found out that Damien had been killed after he was told who the kid was.
Rodney Harris was innocent.
"Alright. Thanks for your time, gentlemen," She said, sighing. This had been a giant waste of time. They didn't obtain any useful information on Damien, nor did they find any concrete evidence to rule Derek out. He was still on the hook.
"You know, SSA Genevieve Taylor. You're not usually my type, but I think I'd be able to swing it if you're willing," Rodney said, chuckling as Genevieve and Spencer turned their backs on the quartet of men. She paused for a moment, debating between retorting and just ignoring him. Spencer looked at her expectantly. He wouldn't be surprised if she turned around and clocked the guy across the face. But she just pasted a faux smile on her face, and walked away.
+++
Not only had Genevieve and Spencer not gotten any good information, but things at the precinct had also gotten even worse. It turns out that Derek was suspected of three killings, not just one. And, to make matters even more complicated, Gordinski had revealed that Derek had a criminal record.
"Hotch, can I talk to him?" Genevieve asked as her boss walked out of the interrogation room. He hesitated for a moment but then nodded. He knew there was something special about their friendship - their camaraderie. And maybe, that special something would be exactly what they needed to get through to him.
She smiled in thank you, and opened the door, to see Derek sitting on the floor in the far corner of the room, his head in his hands.
"Hey," She said softly, gently clicking the door shut behind her. He looked up at the sound of her voice. He didn't return the hollow smile she sent his way.
"Hey," He responded. He made to stand up, but before he could, she took a place on the floor right next to him, her legs crossed.
"Do you need anything? Water? A burger?" She asked. "I can send one of the uniforms-"
"No, I don't need any of that," He cut her off, shaking his head "I just need you guys to get me the hell out of here,"
"We're trying. But it's easier said than done when you hide things from us," She studied his reaction carefully. His jaw tightened his teeth ground, and his carotid pulsed quickly under his skin.
"Listen, I got in some fights when I was a teenager. It was stupid. But I had the record expunged by a judge,"
"Why did you hide it from us? We wouldn't have judged you," She said exasperatedly.
"You hid the truth about Reid from us for months. And I've seen that drawer in your desk where you keep all those files. The ones that you unearth from who knows where and compile in a little locked safe. But I don't ask because I understand your right to keep a little something to yourself,"
"That's different," She said hastily, glaring back at him instead of recoiling. "My career- hell, the rest of my life doesn't depend on my secrets! I respect the hell out of you and your privacy Derek, and you know I do. But your habit of not trusting the people who are literally bending over backwards to try to get you out of this mess isn't going to get you anywhere. Derek, I know I've only been here a year, but I've seen enough grief, and I've experienced enough trauma in my life to know that something happened to you. Something bad. And if you don't let me help you, I don't know how I'm meant to get you out of this,"
"Let it go," He said his voice quiet but angry, getting up off the floor and standing up to stare down at her. She got up too and crossed her arms.
"Because you're my partner, Derek. You've been in this line of work long enough to know what the hell that means. It means that I've got your back, even if you don't want me to," Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Hotch.
Carl Buford. He's the one who got the record expunged. They haven't spoken in years. There's something we're missing. See if you can fill in any blanks.
"What? Have you got a new lead?" He asked, his angry demeanour softening as he noted her furrowed eyebrows.
"Sort of," She replied, putting her phone back into her pocket. "Carl Buford. What can you tell me about him?"
"Goddamn it, woman! I told you to stay the hell out of my business!" He glowered.
"He got your record expunged," She continued calmly, ignoring him. "Without that, you wouldn't have gotten into the Bureau. But apparently, you two haven't talked in years,"
"Damn you, Genevieve!" He yelled out suddenly, causing her to flinch. He noticed, and bit his lip, rubbing the lower half of his face. He felt bad, but didn't apologise. "It's nothing you need to worry about,"
"Actually, I think I do," She said, sending him a reproachful glance. "The only way to convince the hardheads out there that you're innocent is to catch the real Unsub. And we can only do that by looking at victimology-"
"I'm not a victim!" He said, raising his voice again. This time, she stood her ground, and stayed silent, sensing that he wasn't done talking. "I'm innocent, Genevieve. You need to back off me and focus on the actual killer,"
She sighed.
"The only way I can help you is by walking out that door and working this case. And the only way you can help yourself is by telling me whatever you're holding back, so I can do my job. Whenever you come to your senses and realise that you can trust me, you let me know," She turned her back on him and walking out before either of them could say something that they'd regret.
"Anything?" Hotch asked, looking up as she stormed into the bullpen. He stood in a small cluster with Gordinski and Gideon.
"He tensed the moment I mentioned Buford. He wouldn't say a word about the guy,"
"Buford should be that son of a bitches' hero," Gordinski said stubbornly.
"Watch your mouth, Detective. Your anger suggests that you've got it in for Morgan. I doubt your captain would be too pleased to know that you've developed tunnel vision because of a personal vendetta, so I suggest you stop giving me evidence to support my case. Because I'm one crude statement away from going over your head," Genevieve snapped at him, before turning to Hotch and Gideon, who looked mightily impressed by her. "Something happened. I don't know what we're missing, but I do know that it involves Buford,"
"Are we talking about Carl Buford?" Emily asked, walking up to the group.
"Yeah," Hotch nodded.
"We just left his office," She said, pointing behind her, although there was nothing there. She saw their puzzled looks and turned around, expecting to see Dennison, who had accompanied her to the community centre. The small mystery was solved when they heard him shout out.
"Hey! What, did we turn him loose?" The detective asked, running out from the interrogation room. Genevieve paled as she, Emily, Gideon, Hotch, and Gordinski rushed over to the room where they had been holding Derek, which was now empty. He'd escaped.
"Shit," She cursed softly under her breath, as everything suddenly made sense.
Derek would rather be a fugitive from the CPD than tell the team about his history with Carl Buford was. That desperation to suffer in silence was oddly familiar to her. Because, she used to see it every day. In the children that survived sexual assault.
+++
She'd filled Hotch in, and he agreed with her hunch, after telling her about suspicions of Buford being the killer and setting Derek up to take the fall. After talking for a few minutes, they realised that Derek would have come to the same conclusion that Hotch did, and would have gone to confront him, at the community centre.
They debriefed Gordinski because unfortunately, they didn't have a choice, who grudgingly agreed to their suggestion - to listen in enough to gather evidence of Derek's innocence and Buford's guilt before making any arrests.
They had split up, Genevieve and Hotch breaching from the back, while Gordinski and Dennison used the main entrance. After about a minute or so, they heard voices. So, the pair leaned against the door that separated the outside from the inside of the centre, and listened in.
"God, I was so afraid of you," Derek said coldly, his voice cracking. "I was afraid of the police. Afraid of losing everything I was gaining. But that's how you work, isn't it? You make sure there's a hell of a lot to lose, right?"
Genevieve closed her eyes sadly and felt Hotch stiffen beside her. Her hunch was right. His anger at the team viewing his as a victim, his need to keep his secret, it all made sense now. Because of the statute of limitations, there wasn't probable cause to arrest Buford yet. So, they had to just stand there, and wait in silence.
"I don't know what you think you remember-" Buford denied, but he was cut off.
"No, no, it's not what I remember that's going to hurt you, Carl. Our business was way too long ago to matter. You're protected by a statue of limitations, and that's my fault," Derek said. They could hear him thump his fist on a table.
"Then goodnight,"
"You set me up," He continued. "You knew that Damien Walters wanted James to call me about you," Genevieve presumed he was talking about James Barfield, a teenager that Emily had met in her initial sweep of the community centre, and from context, Buford's newest groomee. "So you killed him?" He didn't wait for Buford's deflection and just kept on going. "You killed him because you knew I'd come after you, didn't you?"
"Now you're just talking crazy," The predator scoffed.
"God, I should have told somebody about you when I was a kid!" He said loudly, the pain in his voice palpable. "When you were 'helping' me! You know what happens in cases like this? Once that dam breaks, the flood comes... one kid steps up. Just one. And then another, and another, because they're not scared of you anymore. They know they're not alone. James Barfield is your dam,"
"Whatever lies James told you-"
"They're not lies!" Derek screamed. "You did the same thing to me!"
"I did nothing to you, to James-" Buford tried to argue, but he wasn't given the chance.
"One, by one, they're going to pile up, until there are so many accusations that you can't say they're all lying!" He said heatedly.
"Do you have any idea how many kids I've helped get out of this neighbourhood?" Buford snapped angrily. Genevieve tensed in anticipation. He was being backed into a corner, and he was mad about it. He was about to slip up. "How many lives I've provided? Look at you, hmm? You'd probably be dead by now,"
"Yeah, well it wasn't for free, was it?" From his voice, Genevieve could tell that he was crying now. She felt her heart shatter at the sound. As much as it pained her to listen in, they still hadn't gotten any solid evidence against Carl.
"I pulled you out of the gutter."
"I PULLED MYSELF OUT OF THE GUTTER! ALL THE WAY TO THE FBI! I DID THAT!" Derek shouted, feeling his whole body start to shake, as a result of the anxiety that was making his heart thump at a million miles a minute, and the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins.
"Are you saying I had nothing to do with making you who you are?" Buford asked, enraged.
"No, Carl," His voice was quiet now. The anger had drained from him, almost instantly, and all there was now, was a burning hatred for the man standing before him. "Actually, I'm saying you had everything to do with making me who I am. Because of you, I'm somebody who gets to spend the rest of his life making sure guys like you go down,"
"Look, Derek, I never hurt you," The older man said, sighing, before lowering his voice. "You could have said no,"
And there it was.
Gordinski and Dennison came out from the racks they had been hiding behind, and Genevieve shoved the door open, and jogged in, as the detectives cuffed the Unsub's hands behind his back.
She lingered a few feet behind Derek as Buford struggled.
"The neighbourhood won't be the same without me," He cried out, trying to pull away from the officers. "It's going to be worse without the centre,"
"Somebody will keep this centre running," Derek shook his head. "The neighbourhood will. I will,"
"Wait! Wait!" Buford said sharply, as they tried to haul him off. "Derek... isn't there something you can do for me?"
"You go to hell," He whispered.
Genevieve waited until they took him away before saying anything.
"Derek, I'm so sorry-" She started to say, walking up to him, but her apology was interrupted by him reaching out to her and pulling her tightly into his chest, a sob racking his body. She was surprised at first - she had expected him to be angry with her, for how she had acted in the interrogation, but only hesitated a moment before wrapping one of her arms around his mid-section and the other around his neck, guiding him to lean down and rest his face into her shoulder, and swaying their bodies gently from side to side, rocking him comfortingly as he cried into her shoulder. "I should have-"
"Don't," He begged, his voice muffled slightly by her jacket. "Please, just... let's stay like this for a little while,"
"Okay," She breathed out, leaning her head on top of his, and pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "I got you,"
AUTHOR'S NOTE
this episode breaks my heart so much, but was such a good one and so pivotal for derek's character, so i hope i did it justice! please comment your thoughts down below, i'd love to hear them. i know i didn't address emily's arrival that in depth, but i couldn't really find a way to fit it in right, so her dynamics with genevieve and the rest of the group will sort of develop over the next couple of chapters. thank you so much for 50 hearts, it really means so much to me. have a good day/night! love you guys <3