The Waste Land, 43/44
Title: The Waste Land
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Team-centric - gen
Genre: Drama/Suspense
Summary: Part Three: George Foyet has returned. He isn’t going to let the BAU forget his legacy. Ever.
Warnings: Character Death
Author’s Notes: Just the epilogue remains!
The Waste Land
Part Three: The Reaper’s Gambit
And then-the watcher at his pulse took fright.
No one believed. They listened at his heart.
Little-less-nothing!-and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.
Robert Frost - Out, Out-
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
William Shakespeare
Chapter Seventeen - Wherever You Roam (Morgan)
The day before the funeral, Morgan gets a phone call.
They’ve got another two weeks before they’re due back at work, so it’s not a case, but apparently it’s not something he can get out of, either. So he tells Strauss’s assistant that he’ll be in at two, which gives him enough time to sort out the other errands he’d planned for the day.
Clooney is overjoyed at the prospect of a bath, but somehow, Morgan’s the one that ends up covered in soap and water. He spends another hour after that tearing around the backyard, making the bath pointless anyway. Morgan had had his own shower not long after waking up, but he’ll probably have another one before making the drive into Quantico, because while he doesn’t know the content of the meeting, he does know that it’s probably not a good idea to show up in mud-streaked jeans.
So he showers and dresses respectably enough for a meeting with the Section Chief - blue long-sleeved button up shirt, and dark slacks, but no tie, and no jacket. If he’s going to get chewed out for letting Foyet get the drop on them, then he’s at least going to be comfortable doing it.
Vaguely, he wonders if any other members of the team are being called in.
Aside from the requisite paperwork, Strauss had kept her distance since Hotch’s death. A calm before the storm.
The emotional fallout from the case had been one thing, but Morgan gets the idea that the occupational fallout might be just as bad. He already knows that JJ plans on tendering her resignation, and he wonders if anyone else might follow suit.
He gets there about half an hour early, which is enough time to pick up some paperwork from his desk that he can work on during their leave. After the funeral, who knows when he’ll be back in the office again.
The elevator ride up to Strauss’s office is as silent as the car ride over had been. Jessie - Strauss’s assistant - gives him a sympathetic smile as he enters. Another day, he might have given her a wink, and his trademark charming grin, but not today.
‘She’s ready for you now, Agent Morgan,’ Jessie informs him. Morgan nods, not quite sure why he feels queasy all of a sudden. Strauss has never intimidated him, but he sure as hell doesn’t want to deal with any of her shit today.
‘Come in,’ Strauss says, as he knocks on the open door. ‘Take a seat.’
He hesitates, but sits down. She doesn’t sound angry. If anything, she sounds upset. Morgan’s not sure if he’d describe the relationship between Strauss and Hotch as friendly, but that doesn’t mean she’s not allowed to grieve for the loss.
‘I’m sorry for calling you in like this, Agent Morgan, but my superiors are insistent on resolving this situation as quickly as possible.’ Her voice is the epitome of stoic professionalism, now. Morgan raises an eyebrow.
Situation?
‘What situation?’ he asks, still not entirely certain he’s not about to lose his job.
‘The unfortunate circumstances surrounding your previous case has left a void that needs filling,’ she says. ‘It is my belief - and the belief of those above me - that your experience in the BAU makes you the best candidate for the job.’ It takes Morgan a few seconds to process what Strauss is saying.
‘You want me to be the new Unit Chief?’ he asks, incredulous. This is absolutely not what he’d expected out of the meeting today. He’d known that the issue would have come up eventually, but he’d just assumed that Rossi would take over the role. ‘Why me? Why not Rossi, or Prentiss? They’re way more suited to the role than I am.’
He’s not the guy in charge.
He’s never been the guy in charge.
He’s the guy that does the heavy lifting, the guy that takes point in the field. He can’t imagine doing the things that Hotch does - that Hotch did. He can’t imagine dealing with Bureau politics, or going to budget meetings once a month.
It’s not him.
‘I’ve already discussed this with Agent Rossi, and he agrees with my assessment,’ Strauss tells him. ‘While you may lack political and administrative experience, your tenure in the BAU has done more than enough to prove that you’re capable of professional development.’
There’s a long silence.
‘How long do I have to decide?’ he asks, and Strauss gives him a look of surprise.
‘Would you really turn this offer down?’ she asks, and Morgan isn’t entirely sure how to answer. What Strauss is offering is a far preferable alternative to bringing someone new in. Even with the inevitable changes, the team dynamic is not something that can really be taught to a newcomer.
A newcomer would dismiss Garcia’s skills based on her appearance and personality. A newcomer would make light of Reid’s encyclopedic memory. A newcomer would….a newcomer would not be Hotch, and really, that’s the most important thing. Some days, Morgan thinks that Hotch is the glue that holds the team together.
Without him…
Well, time will tell.
‘Just…give me a couple of days,’ he says, and Strauss can’t exactly say no.
She nods, with a terse, ‘Of course.’ With those words is the unspoken approval for him to leave, which he does quickly, his mind racing.
Hotch’s job is not something that he wants.
What he wants is for George Foyet to have never escaped prison. What he wants is for Aaron Hotchner to still be alive, but neither of those things happened, so now he has to make the best of a shitty situation.
Right now, going home isn’t an option, so he drives.
There’s a list of pros and cons that could be made, but Derek Morgan has never been a pros and cons kind of guy. He thinks with his gut and with his heart, and right now, both of those are in turmoil.
He’s been driving for almost an hour - mostly in circles - when he realizes that he’s about ten minutes from Emily’s apartment. Maybe that was something that his brain had done subconsciously, because she’s the only person that he can really talk to about this, because she’s the one that had been with him at the end.
He makes a stop for lunch first, knowing that the conversation will be easier - less awkward - over food.
When she answers the door, it’s with a raised eyebrow. The smell of burgers had probably wafted through.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asks.
‘Double cheeseburger with jalapenos and onion rings, and a Chocolate Peanut Butter Pecan shake,’ he answers, handing her the paper bag and cup.
‘It’s three-thirty in the afternoon,’ Emily says pointedly, but takes the bag anyway. ‘Do you really pay that much attention to what kind of burgers I like?’ she asks, before shaking her head. ‘Right. Profiler. Forget I said anything.’
She leads him over to her kitchen table, which is currently home to her laptop and a mess of strewn paperwork. Apparently he’s not the only one who’s been working from home.
‘Every time I stop, and think about what happened, I break down,’ she tells him, evidently following his gaze. ‘It’s easier just to keep busy.’
‘I feel ya,’ he agrees, because after all, that’s the main reason why his kitchen and bathroom are completely spotless for the first time in six months.
A calm silence washes over them as they eat; Morgan doesn’t say anything when Emily steals a couple of his fries, but she tosses a handful of onion rings onto his plate anyway.
‘Screw dieting,’ she says with a laugh, but it’s a little empty.
He’s halfway through his burger before he tells her. ‘Strauss wants me to lead the team.’
‘Seriously?’ Emily asks, but she doesn’t look that surprised. ‘You gonna say yes?’
‘Was thinking about it,’ he says with a shrug. ‘I just…I don’t know if I can be a good leader the way he was.’
‘For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure the entire team would follow you to hell and back without hesitation,’ Emily tells him.
‘That’s kinda what I’m afraid of,’ he admits. ‘Four of us ended up in hospital, and Hotch didn’t even get that courtesy; Next time it happens, it’s on my watch. I don’t know if I can live with that burden.’
Emily’s distant for a few seconds, hands fidgeting with a stray onion ring. ‘I ever tell you what I did before joining the BAU?’
He frowns, because he does know, and it’s not exactly something that’s been kept secret.
‘St. Louis and Chicago Field Offices, right?’
Emily shakes her head, and her next words are most definitely not the ones he had been expecting.
‘I spent six years in the CIA doing undercover work to profile terrorists.’
‘No kidding,’ he says, stunned. He’s shocked by the revelation, not to mention a little bit hurt.
‘Well, it’s technically classified, so I’m not supposed to be telling you, but screw that.’ She takes the onion ring and examines it closely before eating it. ‘If there’s one thing I learnt from that, it’s that sometimes, you have to do things you really, really don’t want to do, because the alternative is just too hard to handle. Maybe being Unit Chief means that whatever happens is on your shoulders, but it also means that you have the freedom to make those impossible decisions in the first place. I don’t know,’ she shrugs. ‘Maybe I’m just full of shit.’
‘Out of all the things I could accuse you of, being full of shit is not one of them,’ Morgan tells her. ‘So what about you? Are you staying with the team?’
‘Well, somebody has to make sure your ego doesn’t get too big,’ she says matter-of-factly. ‘And to make sure you don’t end up strangling Strauss in righteous fury.’
Morgan gives a sad sort of grin. ‘You don’t think anyone else is up to the task?’
‘Maybe,’ she concedes. ‘But the difference is that I’ll never stop watching your back.’
‘Baby, if you want to check out my ass, you just have to ask.’ Emily rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, and for a moment it feels like they have the same kind of dynamic that had been there before Hotch’s death.
‘Thanks for the burger,’ she says quietly. ‘And thanks for the company.’
He gives her a hug as he leaves, and waits until he’s back in his car before he pulls out his phone.
‘Strauss?’ he says, when she answers. ‘I’ll do it.’
She sounds pleased, but not overly surprised, and they organize another meeting for next week. There, he’ll get an idea of exactly the kind of duties that will be expected of him and just how difficult Hotch’s job had been.
There’s a long, hard road ahead, but Morgan knows that he will never be alone.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Team-centric - gen
Genre: Drama/Suspense
Summary: Part Three: George Foyet has returned. He isn’t going to let the BAU forget his legacy. Ever.
Warnings: Character Death
Author’s Notes: Just the epilogue remains!
The Waste Land
Part Three: The Reaper’s Gambit
And then-the watcher at his pulse took fright.
No one believed. They listened at his heart.
Little-less-nothing!-and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.
Robert Frost - Out, Out-
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
William Shakespeare
Chapter Seventeen - Wherever You Roam (Morgan)
The day before the funeral, Morgan gets a phone call.
They’ve got another two weeks before they’re due back at work, so it’s not a case, but apparently it’s not something he can get out of, either. So he tells Strauss’s assistant that he’ll be in at two, which gives him enough time to sort out the other errands he’d planned for the day.
Clooney is overjoyed at the prospect of a bath, but somehow, Morgan’s the one that ends up covered in soap and water. He spends another hour after that tearing around the backyard, making the bath pointless anyway. Morgan had had his own shower not long after waking up, but he’ll probably have another one before making the drive into Quantico, because while he doesn’t know the content of the meeting, he does know that it’s probably not a good idea to show up in mud-streaked jeans.
So he showers and dresses respectably enough for a meeting with the Section Chief - blue long-sleeved button up shirt, and dark slacks, but no tie, and no jacket. If he’s going to get chewed out for letting Foyet get the drop on them, then he’s at least going to be comfortable doing it.
Vaguely, he wonders if any other members of the team are being called in.
Aside from the requisite paperwork, Strauss had kept her distance since Hotch’s death. A calm before the storm.
The emotional fallout from the case had been one thing, but Morgan gets the idea that the occupational fallout might be just as bad. He already knows that JJ plans on tendering her resignation, and he wonders if anyone else might follow suit.
He gets there about half an hour early, which is enough time to pick up some paperwork from his desk that he can work on during their leave. After the funeral, who knows when he’ll be back in the office again.
The elevator ride up to Strauss’s office is as silent as the car ride over had been. Jessie - Strauss’s assistant - gives him a sympathetic smile as he enters. Another day, he might have given her a wink, and his trademark charming grin, but not today.
‘She’s ready for you now, Agent Morgan,’ Jessie informs him. Morgan nods, not quite sure why he feels queasy all of a sudden. Strauss has never intimidated him, but he sure as hell doesn’t want to deal with any of her shit today.
‘Come in,’ Strauss says, as he knocks on the open door. ‘Take a seat.’
He hesitates, but sits down. She doesn’t sound angry. If anything, she sounds upset. Morgan’s not sure if he’d describe the relationship between Strauss and Hotch as friendly, but that doesn’t mean she’s not allowed to grieve for the loss.
‘I’m sorry for calling you in like this, Agent Morgan, but my superiors are insistent on resolving this situation as quickly as possible.’ Her voice is the epitome of stoic professionalism, now. Morgan raises an eyebrow.
Situation?
‘What situation?’ he asks, still not entirely certain he’s not about to lose his job.
‘The unfortunate circumstances surrounding your previous case has left a void that needs filling,’ she says. ‘It is my belief - and the belief of those above me - that your experience in the BAU makes you the best candidate for the job.’ It takes Morgan a few seconds to process what Strauss is saying.
‘You want me to be the new Unit Chief?’ he asks, incredulous. This is absolutely not what he’d expected out of the meeting today. He’d known that the issue would have come up eventually, but he’d just assumed that Rossi would take over the role. ‘Why me? Why not Rossi, or Prentiss? They’re way more suited to the role than I am.’
He’s not the guy in charge.
He’s never been the guy in charge.
He’s the guy that does the heavy lifting, the guy that takes point in the field. He can’t imagine doing the things that Hotch does - that Hotch did. He can’t imagine dealing with Bureau politics, or going to budget meetings once a month.
It’s not him.
‘I’ve already discussed this with Agent Rossi, and he agrees with my assessment,’ Strauss tells him. ‘While you may lack political and administrative experience, your tenure in the BAU has done more than enough to prove that you’re capable of professional development.’
There’s a long silence.
‘How long do I have to decide?’ he asks, and Strauss gives him a look of surprise.
‘Would you really turn this offer down?’ she asks, and Morgan isn’t entirely sure how to answer. What Strauss is offering is a far preferable alternative to bringing someone new in. Even with the inevitable changes, the team dynamic is not something that can really be taught to a newcomer.
A newcomer would dismiss Garcia’s skills based on her appearance and personality. A newcomer would make light of Reid’s encyclopedic memory. A newcomer would….a newcomer would not be Hotch, and really, that’s the most important thing. Some days, Morgan thinks that Hotch is the glue that holds the team together.
Without him…
Well, time will tell.
‘Just…give me a couple of days,’ he says, and Strauss can’t exactly say no.
She nods, with a terse, ‘Of course.’ With those words is the unspoken approval for him to leave, which he does quickly, his mind racing.
Hotch’s job is not something that he wants.
What he wants is for George Foyet to have never escaped prison. What he wants is for Aaron Hotchner to still be alive, but neither of those things happened, so now he has to make the best of a shitty situation.
Right now, going home isn’t an option, so he drives.
There’s a list of pros and cons that could be made, but Derek Morgan has never been a pros and cons kind of guy. He thinks with his gut and with his heart, and right now, both of those are in turmoil.
He’s been driving for almost an hour - mostly in circles - when he realizes that he’s about ten minutes from Emily’s apartment. Maybe that was something that his brain had done subconsciously, because she’s the only person that he can really talk to about this, because she’s the one that had been with him at the end.
He makes a stop for lunch first, knowing that the conversation will be easier - less awkward - over food.
When she answers the door, it’s with a raised eyebrow. The smell of burgers had probably wafted through.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asks.
‘Double cheeseburger with jalapenos and onion rings, and a Chocolate Peanut Butter Pecan shake,’ he answers, handing her the paper bag and cup.
‘It’s three-thirty in the afternoon,’ Emily says pointedly, but takes the bag anyway. ‘Do you really pay that much attention to what kind of burgers I like?’ she asks, before shaking her head. ‘Right. Profiler. Forget I said anything.’
She leads him over to her kitchen table, which is currently home to her laptop and a mess of strewn paperwork. Apparently he’s not the only one who’s been working from home.
‘Every time I stop, and think about what happened, I break down,’ she tells him, evidently following his gaze. ‘It’s easier just to keep busy.’
‘I feel ya,’ he agrees, because after all, that’s the main reason why his kitchen and bathroom are completely spotless for the first time in six months.
A calm silence washes over them as they eat; Morgan doesn’t say anything when Emily steals a couple of his fries, but she tosses a handful of onion rings onto his plate anyway.
‘Screw dieting,’ she says with a laugh, but it’s a little empty.
He’s halfway through his burger before he tells her. ‘Strauss wants me to lead the team.’
‘Seriously?’ Emily asks, but she doesn’t look that surprised. ‘You gonna say yes?’
‘Was thinking about it,’ he says with a shrug. ‘I just…I don’t know if I can be a good leader the way he was.’
‘For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure the entire team would follow you to hell and back without hesitation,’ Emily tells him.
‘That’s kinda what I’m afraid of,’ he admits. ‘Four of us ended up in hospital, and Hotch didn’t even get that courtesy; Next time it happens, it’s on my watch. I don’t know if I can live with that burden.’
Emily’s distant for a few seconds, hands fidgeting with a stray onion ring. ‘I ever tell you what I did before joining the BAU?’
He frowns, because he does know, and it’s not exactly something that’s been kept secret.
‘St. Louis and Chicago Field Offices, right?’
Emily shakes her head, and her next words are most definitely not the ones he had been expecting.
‘I spent six years in the CIA doing undercover work to profile terrorists.’
‘No kidding,’ he says, stunned. He’s shocked by the revelation, not to mention a little bit hurt.
‘Well, it’s technically classified, so I’m not supposed to be telling you, but screw that.’ She takes the onion ring and examines it closely before eating it. ‘If there’s one thing I learnt from that, it’s that sometimes, you have to do things you really, really don’t want to do, because the alternative is just too hard to handle. Maybe being Unit Chief means that whatever happens is on your shoulders, but it also means that you have the freedom to make those impossible decisions in the first place. I don’t know,’ she shrugs. ‘Maybe I’m just full of shit.’
‘Out of all the things I could accuse you of, being full of shit is not one of them,’ Morgan tells her. ‘So what about you? Are you staying with the team?’
‘Well, somebody has to make sure your ego doesn’t get too big,’ she says matter-of-factly. ‘And to make sure you don’t end up strangling Strauss in righteous fury.’
Morgan gives a sad sort of grin. ‘You don’t think anyone else is up to the task?’
‘Maybe,’ she concedes. ‘But the difference is that I’ll never stop watching your back.’
‘Baby, if you want to check out my ass, you just have to ask.’ Emily rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, and for a moment it feels like they have the same kind of dynamic that had been there before Hotch’s death.
‘Thanks for the burger,’ she says quietly. ‘And thanks for the company.’
He gives her a hug as he leaves, and waits until he’s back in his car before he pulls out his phone.
‘Strauss?’ he says, when she answers. ‘I’ll do it.’
She sounds pleased, but not overly surprised, and they organize another meeting for next week. There, he’ll get an idea of exactly the kind of duties that will be expected of him and just how difficult Hotch’s job had been.
There’s a long, hard road ahead, but Morgan knows that he will never be alone.