d e r e k .
"Come with us." Gordinski says to Jules as he walks into the room.
Jules glances over to me, worry flashing across her face.
"It'll be okay." I whisper as she nods.
Gordinski, Haley, Hotch, and Jules all head out of the interrogation room, leaving the door slightly opened.
Now's my chance.
I stand up, slipping out of the interrogation room slowly, carefully, and quietly.
"I gotta get the hell out of here." I grumble, knowing exactly where I'm headed.
I don't have my car so I have to run. I slip through a couple of streets, going completely unnoticed.
I make it a block away from where I'm headed when I hear sirens headed down the street. I hide in a dark, hidden spot in the corner, holding my breath, trying to keep my entire body completely steady so I don't get found.
I hope Jules' is okay.
•••
j u l e s
"Mom I didn't do anything!" I exclaim as we walk into another interrogation room.
"We know honey, but we need your help." Hotch interjects, glancing over to Haley.
"Sure. I'll help with anything, as long as Derek and I can get the hell out of here." I say, shrugging my shoulders before leaning onto a chair.
"We need you to prove-" Hotch begins before getting interrupted by yelling in the hallway.
The three of walk out of the interrogation room, to find Gordinski yelling about an open door.
Gordinski glares at the team and then at me, "Which one of you let him go?" He asks, his tone stern and heavy.
I shrug my shoulders, glancing between the team as they all shake their heads, confused on how Derek got out of the station unnoticed.
At least he got out...but what the hell is he doing now and where the hell is he?
Hotch turns to me, "Annie, do you have any idea where he could be?"
I shrug my shoulders, "No. He could be anywhere! He could be at his moms' or the football field or..." I begin to ramble on before getting interrupted by JJ.
"Hold on. Football field?" JJ asks.
"Yeah, he used to be in this Little League for football when he was younger. Do you guys not know this?" I ask, confusion rising in my tone.
Emily chuckles, but tries to cover it by clearing her throat.
"Who runs the football league?" JJ asks as I shrug my shoulder.
"Carl Buford." Gordinski says quietly.
The team's facial expressions change immediately, "THE Carl Buford that was here earlier?" Emily asks as Gordinski nods in approval.
"We gotta go get Derek." I say, basically stumbling over myself as I immediately head out the door.
I hop in one of the Bureau SUVs on my own, driving off without the rest of the team.
I need to make sure Gordinski doesn't arrest Derek for something stupid again.
•••
d e r e k
I slip inside the old building - the building full of the locker rooms with harsh memories after football practice. Sometimes, I was scared to do bad at football practice, because of what Buford would do to me. They weren't even punishments, he called them more of "teaching moments". Those moments didn't teach me anything but pain and I wish I would have told someone. I wish I could have done something before it was too late for me to open up, since I'm a lot older now. To think, my mom and sisters think that Buford was a surrogate dad and the person who saved me from a low...if only they knew. To hell with Buford. He makes my blood boil when I see him.
I slip inside the locker room that attaches to Buford's office, this is the place I know he is, the place where we can talk, solving our differences once and for all.
Buford begins to walk out of his office and I have an immediate act of impulse.
"Carl..." I say, making sure I'm loud enough to startle him.
"You've been let go." Buford says, chuckling a bit.
"Looks that way." I say, my tone going deep and heavy, making sure I sound stern and sincere.
"I told 'em it was crazy, thinkin' you were involved in any killing." He says, shrugging his shoulders a bit.
"Really? Gordinski said you're the one who told 'em I drove Damien home." I say, making my sentence sound more like an interrogation.
"Was that supposed to be a secret?" He asks, shrugging his shoulders again, curiousness filling his tone.
"No. That wasn't I don't follow." He says, playing dumb.
"All these years, I kept my mouth shut I let you go on being a hero. Carl Buford, my mentor." I say, my nose flaring up from anger.
"What are you talkin' about?" He asks, playing dumb again.
"God, I was so afraid of you 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, don't you?" I state, tears welling up in my eyes.
"I don't know what you think you remember." Buford states, shooting me a threatening glare.
"No, no, no. See, it's not what I remember that's gonna hurt you, Carl. Our business is over way too long ago to matter. You're protected by a statute of limitations and that's my fault." I state.
"Then good night." He says in a stern, but quiet tone as he attempts to walk away.
"You set me up. You knew Damien Walters wanted James to call me about you. So you killed him. You killed him because you knew I'd come after you, didn't you?" I ask.
"Now you're just talking crazy." He states in complete and utter denial.
"God, I should have told somebody about you when I was a kid. When you were helping me." I pause, giving my shoulders a small shrug, "Well, you know what happens in cases like this. Once that dam breaks, the flood comes. One kid steps up, just one. And then another one, and another. Because they're not scared of you anymore. They know they're not alone. James Barfield is your dam." I say, my tone going stern as I attempt to hold back my tears.
"Whatever lies James told you..." Buford begins as I immediately interrupt him.
"They're not lies! You did the same thing to me!" I exclaim, choking a bit on tears.
"I did nothing to you, to James." Buford says, flailing his arms a bit in defense.
"One by one, they're gonna pile up until there's so many accusations. You can't say that they're all lies." I inform him, my tone stern and heavy.
"Do you have any idea how many kids I've helped get out of this neighborhood. Hm. How many lives I've provided. Look at you. You'd probably be dead by now." He yells, gesturing his arms towards me.
"Yeah, well, it wasn't for free, was it!?" I exclaim, my hands curling into fists.
"I pulled you out of the gutter." Buford scoffs.
I choke on my tears as I hear that sentence, rage and sadness building in my bones.
"I pulled myself out of the gutter, all the way to the FBI! I did that!" I yell, a few tears escaping from my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.
"You sayin' I had nothin' to do with making you who you are?" Carl says, his tone sincere.
"No, Carl. Actually I'm saying you have everything to do with making me who I am. Because of you I'm somebody who gets to spend the rest of this life making sure guys like you go down." I say, my tone sincere and heavy with rage.
Buford's facial expression goes stern, "Look, Derek..." He pauses, taking a few steps towards me.
I attempt to take a step back, tears rolling down my cheeks as I furiously wipe them away.
"I never did anything to you. You could have said no." He says, shrugging his shoulders.
My body freezes in immediate pain. You could have said no.
I glance up, startled by Gordinski's tone, "You're under arrest, Carl." He says sternly.
Fear flashes across Buford's face, "I've helped a lot of kids!" He exclaims in his own defense.
"Let's go." Gordinski says sternly, slapping the cuffs on Buford's wrists.
"The neighborhood won't be the same without me. It's gonna be worse without the center." Carl says sternly, trying to get under my skin but I ignore him.
"Somebody'll keep this center running. The neighborhood will. I will." I inform him, my tone going stern as he gets closer to me.
"Wait. Wait. Derek... isn't there something you can do for me." Carl asks, stopping in front of me.
"You go to hell." I say sternly, my body full of rage, anger, and sadness.
Gordinski pushes Buford in front of him, causing him to stumble a bit. Gordinski pauses in front of me. He opens his mouth to say something, but doesn't. Coward.
I glance up in the doorway, hearing a few soft sniffles.
Jules. Shit.