"It looks great, Morgan."
"Yeah, well, I still have my doubts about the color."
Hotch smiled slightly at the now bright orange walls in his old office. "I didn't like it in theory, but looking at it now, it isn't bad." He nodded toward the ceiling. "You didn't go all the way up."
Morgan stepped off the ladder and put his paint roller in the tray. "There's gonna be a blue strip about four inches wide going around the top. Baseboard, too. You know, like bright, royal blue. Put a swoosh on the wall, and it'll pass for a pair of Nikes."
Hotch chuckled softly at that, walking closer to the windows. He pointed to the pencil marks on the wall and gave Morgan a curious look.
"Oh, that's for shelves." Morgan wiped his hands on a shop rag and tossed it over his shoulder, joining Hotch by the windows. "I had to make'em custom so they would fit right. Nothing too fancy, just three corner shelves. I figure we're gonna put, you know, a minifridge there, and then a microwave on top, and use the shelves for snacks or drinks. He's gonna have under-bed storage, and my middle man is working on finding me a standing closet, so it's not like he'll need the space for anything else."
Hotch looked at Morgan, unable to keep from grinning.
Morgan simply continued to nod and stare at the corner, hands on his hips, evaluating his pet project and sketching blueprints in his head.
Hotch raised a brow. "You think maybe you're having a little too much fun with this?"
"Hey." Morgan pointed a finger at him, then returned to his paint roller. "This is my day off. I can have as much fun as I want."
Hotch only laughed and started for the door. "If it were my day off, I would join you, but there's a huge stack of paperwork with my name on it."
Morgan winced sympathetically, already back on the ladder. "I don't envy you, man."
Hotch replied with a snort and walked out the door, making his way to the adjacent office.
Thankfully, his desk had always been back-to-back with Rossi's, so when Hotch moved, nothing got switched around. Still, it took some getting used to. He had already thrown his briefcase on the floor once, having expected a couch to be on his left as soon as he walked through the door. Fortunately, he had remembered every time since, and as he went to put his briefcase down, the only difficulty he had was not staring at the files ICAP had sent.
Because they had sent files. It had taken three days of nagging and demanding and, eventually, threatening, but they sent files.
Initially, Hotch had felt a sense of victory when JJ told him they received a massive fax from ICAP, but when he laid eyes on his printed prize, Hotch had only one thought.
This can't be everything I asked for.
Hotch shed his coat and picked a file off the top, curiosity taking precedent over paperwork. He opened it up and started leafing through the pages, coming to the immediate conclusion that large portions had been removed.
Everything subjective in nature was either missing or blacked out. Notes from doctors, psychiatrists, guards, and other personnel were nowhere to be seen. If Genius had said anything to the staff, it wasn't on the pages Hotch had, and given the nature of the document he was looking at, Genius had definitely said something. He wouldn't have been given a choice.
Basically, they took out everything helpful.
Still, Hotch sat down and started to read.
Paperwork? What paperwork?
Full Name: Spencer Lawrence Reid
Date of Admission: 04/25/95
Current Medications: /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Office Notes: Patient was found in room, convulsing and unresponsive. Sent /////////////////// for gastric suction ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// to combat overdose. Suicide watch initiated upon transition to ICAP psych ward. ////////////////// discontinued. Patient will be returned to room after forty-eight hours and remain on suicide watch until cleared by attending psychiatrist.
Doctor's Notes: //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////...
...and then there were no more pages, the next sheet in the folder being the release form, which had been similarly redacted.
It seemed the battle for information was not over.
Of course, Hotch fully intended to use what little they gave him, but it was disheartening nonetheless; especially if the rest of the documents had as much patchwork text as the one in his hands.
It doesn't make sense for the medications to be crossed out. He frowned and went back to the cover sheet. Unless the overdose wasn't an overdose. It could have been an error on the part of a psychiatrist or doctor. Medications with adverse reactions get prescribed at the same time, Genius nearly dies as a result, and they use an overdose story to hide their mistake.
It wasn't much, but it was a theory, and that gave him a starting point.
Hotch already knew Genius had attempted suicide three times, so if Hotch went through the available records and found more than three attempts, it would confirm the cover story idea. Once he had confirmation, he would have some idea of where to look next and what files to obtain.
Of course, that was only one theory.
Use of illegal drugs was on the list of possibilities, along with the existence of an inside drug ring. Genius might have obtained the medication he overdosed on not by collecting his daily doses until he had a lethal amount, but by purchasing them from a guard or psychiatrist. That brought up the problem of money, seeing as geniuses weren't allowed to have any, but it didn't eliminate the idea entirely. Genius might have done one of his 'special jobs' to get the drugs.
If it really was a suicide attempt, knowing why Genius attempted in the first place would be helpful. If it was a sudden, spur of the moment decision—maybe one triggered by severe side effects or an outside stimulant—then he wouldn't have had the chance to hoard what he needed.
Of course, every one of his theories could have been wrong. Every one of his theories could have been right. All three of them could have been right but still not the true root of the problem. Hotch really had no idea, and until he gained access to real information, he had to use speculation to fill some rather impressive gaps.
Hotch snapped the folder shut and shook his head. Paperwork. I have paperwork to finish, and then I can work on my pseudo-investigation.
He gathered the files from ICAP and put them on the nearby sofa, returning to his desk and starting his computer. He drummed his fingers as he waited for the machine to power up, a frown slowly contorting his features.
If the overdose was genuine, what does that say about Genius' mental state at the time? If he had hanged himself, he most likely would have succeeded. Overdosing isn't the most reliable way to commit suicide, and he would have known that, so... was he secretly hoping someone would stop him? Maybe it was more of a cry for help than a genuine desire to die.
It would make sense. Genius was so, so starved for affection, Hotch could easily see him attempting suicide just to know that someone, somewhere would bother to keep him alive.
Even if it was only because they were paid to.
He would have been... fourteen, according to the date of admission. ICAP might have censored the medications, but I can still tell the list was long. He was in the beginning of puberty, had been recently removed from his home and separated from his mother, and was potentially overmedicated. He probably didn't even know which thoughts and feelings were his anymore.
Hotch jumped when his computer finally loaded, the deafening and unmistakable Windows Chime™ telling him he had left the volume up.
I can't think about Genius right now. I have work to do.
"Hey, Hotch!"
Or not.
Morgan stepped into the doorway, wiping sweat from his brow with a shop rag. "You know where Pretty Boy got off to?"
Hotch arched a brow. "Pretty Boy?"
"What? I've used it before."
"Yes, once."
"Twice," Morgan corrected, holding up the appropriate number of digits.
Hotch grimaced. "Please don't tell me it's going to become a regular nickname."
Morgan shrugged. "I dunno, man. I get tired of calling him Genius all the time. Imagine if we all named each other after our occupations."
Hotch pursed his lips, mildly amused by the idea. "There would be a lot of confusion every time someone said, 'Agent.'"
Morgan chuckled at that. "Yeah, well, you get my point. Seriously, though, where is he?"
"JJ took him shopping, I think. They've been gone at least a half an hour now."
Morgan nodded a few times. "Got it. I'll catch him when they get back. I have some questions about his room."
"Mhm." Hotch started typing, silently reminding Morgan—and himself—that he had work to do.
Morgan got the message and left with a quiet chuckle.
Paperwork. Hotch sighed. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork.
He could do it. He could focus. He could get things done.
He could totally focus and get things done.
He could.
Totally.
***
Rossi couldn't help but grin to himself when he saw Hotch sitting on the floor in a sea of files, and he briefly wondered if coming to get his lucky pen had been a good idea.
"I see you broke out the DSM."
Hotch didn't even glance up from the book in his lap, circling a few things as he spoke. "I found something interesting. I found a lot of things, actually, but the latest development is unusual diagnoses."
Rossi looked at the mess for a moment and then sat on the couch, facing Hotch. "Well, tell me what you got." Definitely a bad idea to come for the lucky pen.
Hotch nodded a few times and tucked his pencil behind his ear. "I think Genius is too overmedicated for any diagnoses to be made or confirmed today, but I do believe he has multiple mental disorders. He was right in saying he doesn't have Tourette's, and I doubt he has Schizoaffective Disorder."
Rossi crinkled a brow and leaned back, propping his ankle on the opposite knee and considering the agent before him. "Explain."
"Well, does he seem delusional to you?"
Rossi pressed his lips together and inhaled slowly. "Aaron, I think you and I have the kind of relationship where I can be straight with you."
Hotch frowned slightly. "You do think he's delusional?"
"I didn't say that." Rossi chose his words carefully, able to tell through profiling and years of friendship that Hotch was passionately invested in their latest addition. "I think it's great that you want to go to bat for the kid, but you're starting to get tunnel vision."
Hotch paused, glancing down at his lap with a crinkled brow, and Rossi pressed on.
"Those 'special jobs' he told you about? Those could be delusions. You said he mentioned other geniuses; those could have been hallucinations, and when the one genius went away and never came back, that could have been the treatment plan working. His mother is schizophrenic, so he's got the genes for it." Rossi spread his hands slightly, as if physically presenting the idea. "If they had diagnosed him with full-on schizophrenia, I would find it harder to believe, but schizoaffective disorder isn't that far-fetched."
Hotch considered the papers in his lap, silent for several moments, fingers drumming on the folder to his left. "I know he's not crazy, Dave."
"Good." Rossi nodded his head. "You're trusting your gut, and you should, but don't lose your ability to play the devil's advocate. Remember, in the end, it's not me you have to convince; it's the higherups, a judge, and a jury."
Hotch looked at the book for another moment and nodded his head. "You're right." He ran a hand through his hair. "I really don't have any evidence."
Rossi gave a sideways sort of nod. "Maybe. But that doesn't mean you're wrong, it just means you have to dig deeper. You said you requested files on Genius' blockmates, right?"
Hotch nodded.
"No one corrected you, so we know there were other geniuses there. We can get information on them and see if it matches what Genius told you about his friends. If it doesn't, they were hallucinations, if it does, that's one less piece of evidence against Genius."
Hotch grabbed a piece of paper and started scratching down notes. "I'll work on getting those." He paused, thoughtful. "There's also the layered nature of mental illness. There are dozens of symptoms that overlap, and a lot of times, you have to already have one mental disorder to even qualify for another."
Rossi reached out and wiggled his fingers, indicating he wanted the book. "I think schizoaffective is one of those." He went back a couple pages. "Uh... yeah, here. Genius would have to have the symptoms listed while suffering from a period of illness; in this case, psychotic illness." He tapped the page a few times. "Before we even think about schizoaffective disorder, we've got to go through all the psychotic disorders and figure out which one he has, if any. Now, I haven't looked at the kid's files, but I bet there are dozens of overlapping diagnoses like this."
Hotch nodded his head a few times, looking around the mess. "Um... yeah, yeah, here. He was diagnosed with a mood disorder, which we knew, but not a specific one. According to the DSM, it has to be difficult to choose between Bipolar Disorder, Unspecified and Depressive Disorder, Unspecified before you can diagnose someone with Mood Disorder, Unspecified." He looked up at Rossi and shook his head. "They diagnosed him with Major Depressive Disorder. By definition, he can't have Depressive Disorder, Unspecified. That leaves Bipolar Disorder, Unspecified, so there is no difficult decision."
Rossi actually felt a little excited when he heard that. "Good." He clapped his hands together and slid onto the floor, grabbing a few files of his own. "See, that's the kind of stuff we need. We start with the stuff we can definitely eliminate with proof, and then we start arguing with ICAP over the gray areas."
"Dave."
"Hmm?"
When there was no response, Rossi looked up, a smile tugging at his lips when he saw Hotch holding up one hand. Rossi quickly gave him the high-five and got back to the papers. "It sucks that we don't have any office notes. It would be nice to know why they diagnosed him with all these different disorders."
"Oh, you noticed the censorship?"
Rossi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well... we'll just have to keep poking the bear."
Hotch laughed but didn't say anything else.
Silence fell over the room, and while Rossi kept an eye on the clock, he was in no hurry to leave. He might not have been as skeptical of ICAP as Hotch was, but he definitely cared about Genius. He would do anything he could to help the kid stabilize in his new environment and adapt a healthy lifestyle. If starting from scratch with medical files was the way to do it, Rossi would pay for every psychiatric and medical appointment himself.
"Dave, what do you think about Bipolar I?"
***
"Thanks for taking me shopping, Agent Jereau."
JJ looked up from her ice cream cone and offered a quick smile. "It was my pleasure, Genius." She licked the dessert a few times. "Do you like everything you got?"
Genius nodded his head rapidly and took a bite of his own cone. "I can't wait to wear a new outfit tomorrow." He barely got the last word out before a frown tugged at his lips. "Do you think I'll be able to do that? It's... been a long time since I picked my own clothes."
JJ paused, thinking back to the hours they had spent combing through the racks at Salvation Army. Genius had collected quite the array of vibrantly-colored, obnoxiously-patterned shirts and ties, and during several of his trips to the fitting rooms, JJ had wondered if she could get away with sneaking some to the return rack. If not, she wondered whether she would be able to talk him into putting them back himself without making a scene. Ultimately, JJ had come to an extraordinarily simple conclusion.
"Genius, if you look in the mirror and what you see makes you happy, then you picked a good outfit." JJ kept her tongue on the ice cream and twisted the cone with her hand. "That's all there is to it."
And if anyone had a differing opinion they felt the need to voice, JJ would deal with them.
Personally.
"You really think so?" Genius bit his lip, scratched his arm a few times, and took another big bite. "You think it's okay that I like... really, really bright things?"
JJ smiled at him, the epitome of encouraging support. "If I spent the last twelve years of my life surrounded by gray, I would like bright things, too."
Genius laughed nervously, uncertain words slipping between his lips. "Yeah, um... gray is really boring. Even black and white would be better. Black is black, and white is white, y'know? But gray is... well, what is it? Faded black? Dirty white?" He laughed again, even more nervous than before, and JJ immediately realized he was trying to make a joke.
So, she smiled and laughed along. Maybe it wasn't the funniest thing she ever heard, but delivery had a lot to do with humor, and if nobody encouraged Genius to be funny, he would never learn how to get the timing right.
"Agent Jereau, what's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"
JJ pursed her lips, considering the question before replying. "Back home, there was this ice cream place called 3B's. They sold teaberry ice cream, and it was the best teaberry ice cream in existence."
Genius tilted his head to the side, curious and perplexed. "What... is teaberry?"
"They're like... they taste a bit like Canadian mints, but they're tiny red balls. They're almost like sprinkles." She laughed a little as she came to a realization. "You could, conceivably, put teaberries on teaberry flavored ice cream."
Genius nodded slowly, a look of intense contemplation in his eyes. "Hmm." He snapped out of his trancelike staring contest with the picnic table, a wide smile parting his lips. "I would like to try that someday, Agent Jereau."
JJ licked what ice cream she still could before finally caving and biting into the cone. "Someday," she said, covering her mouth, "I'll take you to my hometown."
Genius' eyes lit up, mouth stopping halfway to his ice cream. "Really? I would—I would really like that, Agent Jereau!"
"You don't even know where I'm from." JJ laughed and took another bite.
Genius laughed too, more joyous than amused. "It doesn't matter. I would love to see more of the world." He paused to finish his cone, crumpling the wrapper in his hand. "Where are you from, Agent Jereau?"
"Pennsylvania." JJ was just a few bites behind him, the ice cream very nearly spilling over the edge as it melted. "Nowhere in the city, though. I was a small town girl."
"Livin' in a lonely world?" Genius asked, a brow raised slightly.
JJ laughed aloud. "Who says you're no good at socializing?"
Genius shrugged his shoulders and smiled sheepishly, cheeks flushing.
JJ finished her ice cream and hopped to her feet, dusting off her hands. "So, you asked me some questions. It's your turn to answer."
"Answer what?" Genius blinked a few times, completely lost.
"Favorite ice cream flavor and hometown." JJ held out her hand for his wrapper and took it, along with hers, to the nearby trash can. "Come on. It's only fair."
Genius seemed surprised for another moment or two, but then he brought out that toothy grin he seemed so fond of. "I'm from Las Vegas, and... my favorite ice cream flavor is silly."
JJ quirked a brow. "How can it be silly?"
Genius shrugged. "Everyone always laughs."
"That doesn't necessarily mean it's silly. It could be cool or interesting or enjoyable." JJ nudged him on the shoulder and smiled. "You can tell me, Spen—Genius. You can tell me anything."
Genius bit down on his lip, dropped his gaze to the dirt, and shrank in on himself. "Vanilla."
JJ didn't miss a beat. "With or without sprinkles?"
He seemed genuinely surprised when she didn't laugh, and it was with a hesitant smile that he answered, "With."
"Rainbow or chocolate?"
Genius made a face. "Ew. Rainbow, every time."
JJ did laugh at that, but her only comment was, "Classics never go out of style, Genius."
Genius smiled at that, clearly relieved by her lack of ridicule, and got to his feet. "So, back to Agent Rossi's house?"
JJ shook her head and started for the car. "No, I got a text from Morgan. He has some questions about your new room, so I'm taking you to Quantico, and then Morgan will take you back to Rossi's. Okay?"
Genius nodded his head rapidly, an excited giggle rising in his throat. "I can't believe I get my own room."
They both got into the car, and JJ put her keys in the ignition. "I just hope it doesn't take too long for us to get it ready for you."
Genius turned his head and looked at her, nothing but adoration in his eyes. "Agent Jereau, you could keep me in a kennel, and I would be happy."
JJ wet her lips, swallowing around the lump that formed in her throat. "We would never put you in a kennel, Genius."
Genius didn't lose his exuberant smile. "I didn't think so; you guys are too nice. But, you know..." He shrugged and looked out the window, tone still peppy. "Like, if you couldn't get the permanent residency approved or ran out of funding or if I was bad..." He shrugged again. "Well, I would still be happy. That's all I meant."
JJ's heart clenched, but she maintained her outward composure. She wanted Genius to have a very specific idea of who she was: calm, strong, compassionate, but above all, level-headed. She wanted Genius to know he could tell her anything, and she would never respond with shock or disgust or anger. She wanted to be a person Genius instinctively classified as safe.
"Genius," she said softly, putting a hand on his knee. "We will never put you in a kennel. If you do something wrong, you are still keeping your room. It will be yours, and no one will take it from you. If, for some reason, you couldn't go to your room, you would come home with someone on the team." She smiled slightly, meeting his eyes and praying he saw nothing but care and compassion. "Okay?"
Genius considered the words for a moment, and then he started to smile and nod. It was slight, just a faint jerk of the head and a twitch of the lips, but it was there.
"Thank you, Agent Jereau." His smile broadened a bit. "Thank you so much." He leaned toward her, reaching out an arm, but then came to an abrupt stop. "Um..."
JJ simply kept looking at him. "What is it?" she prodded gently.
"Well, it's just..." Genius dropped his arm and fidgeted in his seat. "I just... Agent Hotchner said that sometimes... sometimes friends hug each other. You just... you just made me really happy with what you said, and I was wondering... I was thinking maybe..." He looked down, as if ashamed. "Can I hug you, Agent Jereau?"
Genius was three for three in the heartbreak department.
"Of course you can, Genius. You can always, always hug me."
Genius let out a little noise of delight and threw his arms around her, squeezing tightly with another whispered, "Thank you, Agent Jereau."
"You are so very welcome, Genius."
It was a good thing he couldn't see her face. She didn't want him to feel responsible for her tears.
***
"Is that... is that a planner?"
Hotch glanced up from the book in front of him, startled.
JJ covered her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh. "What, are you a soccer mom now?"
Hotch maintained a scowl for no more than three seconds, and then he caved. "Soccer dad, thank you very much." He looked back down at the planner. "Jack actually has been talking about joining a soccer team."
JJ approached the desk and looked over his shoulder. "Seriously, why the planner? You usually keep everything on your phone." She squinted and leaned a little closer. "Are you color coordinating your ink?"
Hotch let out a sigh and looked up at her, irritation seeping from every pore. "Yes, JJ, I am color coordinating the ink on my soccer dad monthly planner." He once again failed to stay mad. "It's for Genius. Well, it's for me, but it's for me for him."
JJ gave him a questioning look, and with a twist of embarrassment in his gut, he started to explain.
"My schedule is in black ink, and anything scheduled for Genius is in blue. For example..." He pointed to July 27th. "He has an appointment with the new psychiatrist next week. I'm in a meeting that day, so..." He held up the red pen. "Rossi is going to stick around and keep an eye on things, which it says right there. If the date is circled in red, it means Genius can stay with Rossi that night."
"What color am I?"
Hotch looked up from his project, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "You?"
"Yes, me." JJ was dead serious, clearly intending to be involved. "I wouldn't mind letting him stay with me. I have the room, and I would love his company. Also, once his room is finished, he'll need someone to take him shopping again. Someone will have to get his groceries, too, or at least drive him to the store. Oh, and we need to schedule social appointments for him."
"Social appointments?" Hotch echoed, both amused and surprised by JJ's sudden and intense involvement in Genius' life.
"You know what the job is like, Hotch. If we don't schedule things like taking him for coffee or getting him a library card, it'll never happen. He's never going to learn to interact with people in a healthy way if he doesn't get out." JJ snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "We should get him a map. Morgan said it really freaked him out when he got lost, but with his eidetic memory, it would be easy for him to memorize the layout of everything in and around Quantico. It would be a great way for him to learn independence. You know, running for coffee by himself or just taking a walk around the property."
Hotch leaned back in his chair and watched her carefully, a faint smile touching his features. "You seem to have put a lot of thought into this." He paused. "Why the sudden interest?"
JJ frowned, a bit offended. "What do you mean?"
"Well, everyone on this team is invested in Genius, but he's been here for... eight days now, and all of a sudden, you're just..." Hotch rolled his hand, letting her brain fill in the blank for him. "Did something happen?"
JJ looked down at her hands, toying with the ring on her right index finger. "A lot of things happened."
But she didn't say anything further.
"Is there... something else you came in here for?" he ventured, watching her cautiously.
JJ inhaled to clear her sinuses, and when she looked back up at him, there was no moisture in her eyes. "Yes. Strauss called and said we have a case. She said it's sensitive, and she wants to discuss it with you, personally, in her office."
Hotch couldn't help the instinctual sensation of dread brought on by imminent interaction with the section chief, but he tried to maintain his professionalism. "I'll go there now. Gather everyone in the conference room?"
"Can do." JJ nodded and left to follow orders.
Hotch let out a sigh and got to his feet, deciding there was no point in putting off the inevitable. He grabbed his cell phone and headed for the door, stopping just long enough to glance at the stack of ICAP files he and Rossi had only gotten halfway through.
Easy, Hotchner. Rome wasn't built in a day.
Hotch shook his head. He had a job to do.
***
"I'm sorry you had to stay behind because of me."
JJ looked up from the case file in her hands and found herself mesmerized by Genius' outfit for the third time that day.
Black cargo pants, a white t-shirt with black words, and a white button-down with paint splatters of various colors, which he let hang open. He wore his tie—a brightly colored collage of tropical flowers on a blue background—loose enough that the knot hung at his sternum. He had walked into the office that morning with a black fedora on his head, plain converse on his feet, and a giddy smile on his face.
But it looked right on him. JJ couldn't explain it—maybe it was the way he wore it, or maybe it was the obvious happiness it gave him—but for whatever reason, it looked right.
"Uh..." JJ blinked and shook her head. "Sorry, what?"
"I apologized for keeping you here." Genius shifted in his seat and scratched his arm a few times. "I know the only reason you stayed behind is because someone has to watch me."
JJ set the file aside and shook her head. "Don't apologize. If I wanted to go along that badly, I would have asked Hotch to keep someone else here." She smiled. "If you ask me, I got lucky. I have the whole conference room to myself, my favorite coffee shop is two blocks away, and I get to sleep in my own bed tonight."
Genius relaxed a little, looking down at his lap with a tiny smile. "You're too nice."
"No such thing." JJ started spreading photos and papers out on the conference table. "Besides, I didn't say anything that wasn't true."
Genius picked at his fingers and hands for a few seconds, and then he began scratching his arm. "Can I..." He trailed off and didn't attempt to finish his question.
"Can you...?" JJ pressed.
Genius looked up for a moment and then looked back down. "Um, never mind." He scratched his arm a few times, shifting from foot to foot. "Wanna work on the case?"
JJ was curious, but Genius had already shared quite a bit with her the day before. She didn't want to make him feel like he had to tell her everything, so she let it drop with a smile.
"Well, if we don't want to get in trouble with Hotch, I think we definitely have to work on the case."
Genius cracked a fleeting smile, looking over the information they had before tossing out a comment. "I don't like this case."
JJ frowned slightly and looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"They told us the personnel at Summerville Military Academy cut the boys down because they thought they might still be alive. Just looking at the pictures the medical examiner sent over, I can't see how that's possible. They have extensive bruising around the neck and eyes, and if the time of death that came with the files is accurate, rigor mortis would have definitely set in by the time they were found. I can understand a random passerby thinking there was something they could do, but military personnel would have at least some level of medical training."
JJ nodded her head slowly, considering his argument. "So, we could be walking into a deliberately contaminated crime scene." She paused, following his train of thought to the next conclusion. "Which would mean we can't trust the testimony of the people in charge."
"Which means all the evidence is corrupted to some extent."
JJ blew her bangs out of her eyes and pulled her phone from her belt. "I'll message Hotch and see what he wants us to do."
Genius picked up one of the school transcripts. "You should also tell them not to assume these are suicides." He read the whole sheet in thirty-seven seconds. "Josh Redding didn't back out of a suicide pact."
"What do you mean?"
"If he backed out or wasn't part of a pact in the first place, he would have tried to save the other students. They would have already been cut down when the lieutenant arrived, but they weren't. If Josh hadn't been able to save them, he would have attempted to get help—something like smoke signals, given the training the students receive—and if that hadn't worked, he would have stayed at the campsite to explain the situation as soon as someone arrived to pick them up. Instead, he vanished, and there are really only two reasons people avoid help."
JJ folded her arms over her chest and nodded slowly. "Either they're hiding something..."
"Or the help can't be trusted." Genius turned the photo in his hands toward JJ. "Josh Redding either killed those boys, or he knows who did and knows going back to the academy isn't safe."
JJ looked over the files on the table a few more times. "We should still look into the first boy's suicide. If that was murder, it's cause for a coverup. If it wasn't, it could be what motivated our killer."
Genius nodded in agreement. "Revenge and self-preservation are powerful motivators."
JJ opened her phone and pulled up a blank message, typing a few words before she stopped. "Let's wait until we get the medical examiner's report."
Genius quirked a brow, confused. "Why?"
"Until we get that, this is just a hunch. If we wait until we have the report, the team should already be on the ground, profiling the staff and students. Not only will we have evidence to back our idea, but we'll know we didn't influence their first impressions."
Genius nodded and smiled, immediately understanding. "That makes sense. You're really smart, Agent Jereau."
JJ was surprised by the compliment, but it made her smile nonetheless. "Thank you."
Genius smiled, looked at the case files, and then looked back up, concern and fear suddenly dominating his features. "Was it you or someone you know?"
JJ blinked a few times, lost. "Um, sorry, what?"
Genius glanced at the files again. "Suicide. I noticed the way your body language changed as soon as Hotch said the victims hanged themselves, and you've been fingering your necklace on and off all day. You're doing it now, actually."
JJ looked down and saw he was right. She hadn't even realized her hand had moved.
"It was, uh..." She shook her head, still reeling from the sudden change in topic. "It was my older sister. Rosalyn."
Genius scratched his arm and then pulled out a chair, sitting down and putting his feet up on the seat with him. "Um... do you... I mean, because your sister... um... why did she... um, I mean..." He trailed off, biting down on his lip. "What do you think about... about people who hurt or kill themselves... for attention?"
JJ furrowed her brow, once again confused by the jump, even if it wasn't as drastic.
"Well, I..." JJ leaned back against the table and crossed her arms, considering her answer carefully. "I don't think they understand what someone who genuinely wants to die is going through, but I don't think they should be ignored or ridiculed, either. I think you would have to be... incredibly lonely and unwanted to believe people will only care about you if you hurt or kill yourself. It might not be the same kind of pain, but it's still pain. It's just different." She turned to look at him. "Does that make sense?"
Genius nodded and curled up a little tighter, tracing idle patterns the side of his leg. "So... you wouldn't be mad at someone who... I mean, if someone told you..."
JJ pushed off the table and grabbed a chair of her own. She sat directly across from Genius and leaned forward, trying to find his eyes. "Genius, have you been thinking about suicide?" she asked softly.
Genius shook his head right away, but he didn't look at her. "No, not anymore. I... I did, though, a long time ago." He started scratching his leg, and his voice was thick when he continued. "When I... when I was talking to Owen, I wanted him... to know I understood him, so I... I told him about... about how I tried, and..." He broke off into a sob but quickly reeled himself back in. "I guess I kinda... I hoped... I thought maybe..."
"Hey." JJ grabbed his chair and pulled him as close as she could. "It's okay. You can tell me."
Genius didn't say anything right away, one hand coming up to cover his mouth while the other clawed at his leg faster with every second. "I thought maybe Agent Hotchner or Agent Morgan would—would ask me about it." He dropped his hand a little. "Or—or talk to me, maybe. I thought... I thought maybe Agent Hotchner wouldn't be so angry at me if he knew..."
Genius shook his head, another quiet sob escaping him. "I know it's not an excuse, and—and it wasn't—that wasn't why I did it, but I just—I just—" He took a shuddering breath and looked up, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Am I a bad person, Agent Jereau?"
JJ felt a stabbing pain in her chest, and she immediately grabbed Genius' ankles, pulling them until he put his feet back on the floor. She reached out and cupped his face in her hands, causing his gaze to flicker away.
"Genius, look at me."
He swallowed hard and did as he was told, shaking slightly.
JJ shook her head slowly, never taking her eyes off his, not even blinking. "You are not a bad person, Genius." She gently thumbed his cheek, shaking her head again. "It isn't wrong to want to know that somebody cares."
Genius let out a sob, his entire body sagging with relief. He took several deep, shuddering breaths. "That isn't why I did it. I promise."
"Hey, listen." JJ only shook her head again. "I don't care. I don't care why you did it. It doesn't matter. All that matters, all I care about, is the fact that you, at some point in your life, thought that trying to kill yourself was a good thing."
Genius sniffed, tears staining his cheeks.
"You promise me something, okay?"
Genius nodded, sniffing again.
"If you ever start to have those thoughts or feelings again, promise you'll come to me. No matter what kind of feelings they are. If you ever feel trapped or exhausted or replaceable—if you feel like no one cares and you need attention—come to me. We will figure something out."
Genius nodded a few times and wiped his cheeks. "I can do that."
JJ looked him dead in the eye. "Promise me."
Genius blinked away his tears. "I promise."
JJ slowly let go of his face, dropping her hands into her lap.
He went from fine to guilt-ridden breakdown. So, what's next?
"Hey." JJ nudged his knee. "Let's start working on motives. We were really on a roll there. Well, you were, but I helped."
Genius sniffed and smiled, blinking rapidly. "We were on a roll." He grinned a bit. "It's, uh, it's actually funny you should bring up motive, because I was just thinking about Baily's suicide again. According to his file, he was only thirteen, making him one of the youngest students at Summerville. That would also make him one of the smallest and most vulnerable. I think we should look into bullying as a possible cause for the suicide."
JJ blinked a few times. Apparently, going right back to normal is what's next.
"Does that sound bad coming from me? I mean, because of the Owen thing?"
JJ thought about it for a second and then shook her head. "No, Baily definitely would have been a prime target for bullying, and the five boys found in the words were all upperclassmen. They were bigger, stronger, older... and the school motto is, 'To Live is To Conquer,' so I doubt they teach classes on empathy and emotional support."
Genius nodded his head a few times. "We should start looking into Baily's family."
JJ looked up at him, shaking her head with awe. "You're good, Genius. I mean, you already know that, but you're really good. You're not even there, and you're profiling all these traits just from paper."
Genius gave her a sheepish smile. "Don't forget, Agent Jereau—I solved 1,022 cases from inside ICAP." He looked a little bitter for a moment, lips pouting slightly. "My file says I consulted, but I solved them. I figured it out, alone, with no one helping me."
"They shouldn't have done that, Genius." JJ tensed up slightly, not liking the sudden change in his countenance. "You deserve to be recognized for your hard work."
"I know I do." Genius started to scratch at his arm, growing angrier by the second, beginning to pace in the conference room. "It's just—it's just ridiculous! How can anybody be so, so, so stupid to actually believe someone with my level of intelligence only consulted on every single case they were handed? If a freeman did it, it would be totally different, but—" He pressed his palms to his eyes and uttered a frustrated shout. "It's just not—it's just not fair!"
JJ barely had time to react before Genius swiped the evidence off the table, sending the box, folders, and papers flying. Stay calm. She slowly approached and didn't let herself jump when Genius slammed his hands down on the tabletop. Don't scare him. She stopped about three feet away and spoke softly, trying to get his attention without aggravating him further.
"Genius... I want to help, but in order to do that, I need to know what is making you so angry."
Genius mumbled something to the table, fingers clawing at the wood.
"I can't hear y—"
"I said I don't know!" Genius slammed his hands on the table again, but he uttered a sound that was more upset than angry. "I don't know, Agent Jereau." He got louder, anger returning, and he began to pace again. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know! I don't know, and I hate it! This is—this is such a stupid thing to get so mad over, and normally—normally it doesn't even bother me, but sometimes, Agent Jereau—sometimes I just get so angry, and I don't know why, but I can't make it stop. I try to talk myself down, I try to take deep breaths, and it just makes everything worse! Sometimes I want to throw or break something, sometimes I want to cram as many profanities and slurs into one sentence as humanly possible, sometimes I start crying, sometimes it leads to a panic attack, and sometimes it just—sometimes it just goes away and leaves me feeling like an idiot for losing control over a, a, a lollipop. This happened over a lollipop, Agent Jereau, while I was still at ICAP, and I don't understand! I don't know why, why my brain is doing this to me."
Genius finally stopped pacing, throwing his back against the wall and dropping unceremoniously to the floor. He stared blankly ahead, the passion draining from his eyes. "And sometimes..." his voice cracked, "...sometimes when it goes away, I feel better, but most of the time... I just get so tired, Agent Jereau. I—do you have any idea how..." he panted, chest heaving "...how exhausting it is to be that angry?"
JJ slowly approached him, stepping over the scattered papers carefully. She joined Genius on the floor, leaning back against the wall with a sigh.
Genius shook his head, eyes glassy with tears he wouldn't—or perhaps couldn't—shed. "I just... I don't understand, Agent Jereau. Why is my brain this way? Why—why am I this way?"
JJ shook her head slowly and moved a little closer, cautiously putting an arm around him. "I don't know, Genius... I..." She shook her head again. "We're gonna figure this out. Hotch made an appointment with a psychiatrist for you, and it's coming up soon."
Genius physically recoiled at the information, a desperate whine rising in his throat as tearful eyes implored her. "No, please! Please don't put me on more medication. Please—"
"Shh, shh, shh." JJ shook her head immediately. "No, Genius, no. We want to do the opposite, okay? We want you to be evaluated so maybe we can take you off some of these meds you're on, change some things around, and just—we just want to find something that works for you."
Genius stared at her, fear still evident in his honey-brown eyes, but he didn't shy away from her any more. "R-really?" He sniffed and dragged his arm across his eyes. "You mean it?"
JJ nodded her head, smiling warmly. "Yes, I mean it. We're gonna get to the bottom of this, okay? Depression, anxiety, mood disorders, personality disorders... whatever it is, we're going to figure it out and find a way to treat it. We're gonna make it better."
Genius pulled his knees up to his chest and looked at her with so much hope in his eyes it physically hurt her to see it. "You mean... better better? I might not get so angry anymore? Things won't be so... out of control, and maybe my brain will just... just be quiet every now and then? We'll treat it all? Fatigue, headaches, chronic pain, insomnia, hypersomnia—everything?"
JJ felt her own eyes growing damp, but she smiled and nodded. "Everything. It might take a long time to work it all out, to get all the old drugs out of your system and... well, I don't know what all we'll have to do. But we'll keep trying and changing and learning... and we'll make it better better."
Genius swallowed hard and smiled widely. "Better better."
JJ nodded yet again and returned his smile. "Better better."