The Refining Process (Criminal Minds)
Title: The Refining Process
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/ referrals to dub-con, non-con, pedophilia
Wordcount: 608
Summary: Sometimes you can't touch without remembering cold water and unwelcome hands.
Notes: This is the product of watching Profiler, Profiled too many times in one week. It's less episode tag and more character study. (And on that note, writing Morgan was way easier than I might have expected.)
The Refining Process
The kicker about being in the business of getting into people's heads is that you can't help but analyse yourself when you've got the time to think about things. When you go out looking to blow off some steam, and you spend all night looking but not touching, you know it's because sometimes you can't touch without remembering cold water and unwelcome hands. You know why you spent your freshman year of college drowning in classwork and football and a job on the side instead of partying with the other undergrads, and it's only in part because you knew you had to do well. You own these things like you own your teenage years at the youth center, not because you like it but because the alternative is them owning you.
You're used to edging away and being the island; you're used to making friendships without benefits. You love Garcia because she always got that, and let you build something whole out of being the voice on the other end of the phone. She came back to Chicago with you when Thanksgiving was free, and took her place among your sisters, and then you learned to hug her in person. Neither or you blushed when Momma made noises about grandbabies, and by the way everyone at the table laughed, it was clear that Momma knew the truth of things. That you'll always be closer with words rather than touch, with actions rather than connections.
You know Garcia's getting good at profiling when she says the same thing you've realised time and time again: that you're never out looking for someone to bring home. That sometimes it happens, because it's been a long time since you were a kid and you've grown, you have. And you can even be touched without remembering, now, you can even look up to a man without wondering when he's gonna call in that favour. Some of that's because of Gideon. If you ever find him, after you punch him, you'll have to thank him.
But even if you've grown, the truth of the matter is that you'll always get along better with women, with kids. With Garcia, who knows you like one of her computers, or with Prentiss, who's made being professional a way of life; you got along with Elle before she ran, because she never made it about you, and it isn't possible to be uncomfortable with JJ because that's just who she is. You gel with Reid, who's not exactly a kid but still vulnerable, still not a threat, doesn't ask you for anything but to have his back. It took longer to find that kind of easiness with Gideon and Hotch, and it's still not exactly like your bond with the rest of the team, and you still don't have it with Rossi.
Sometimes you sit at bars and just watch people, think about who you'd take home if you were looking for that, wonder if you could deal with bringing him home instead of her. Those nights, you settle for neither, and don't really feel the loss. If you'd grown up different, maybe you'd go for it. If you'd grown up different, maybe you'd still be in Chicago. Maybe you'd be dead, dropped in an alley somewhere by the bigger guy with the gun. Thing is, you're a survivor, and you never needed anyone but yourself to get through the shit you've seen. And you've got a family who loves you, a team that's basically another family, and the best friend you ever could have found. Sleeping alone most nights isn't a tough price to pay for that.
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/ referrals to dub-con, non-con, pedophilia
Wordcount: 608
Summary: Sometimes you can't touch without remembering cold water and unwelcome hands.
Notes: This is the product of watching Profiler, Profiled too many times in one week. It's less episode tag and more character study. (And on that note, writing Morgan was way easier than I might have expected.)
The Refining Process
The kicker about being in the business of getting into people's heads is that you can't help but analyse yourself when you've got the time to think about things. When you go out looking to blow off some steam, and you spend all night looking but not touching, you know it's because sometimes you can't touch without remembering cold water and unwelcome hands. You know why you spent your freshman year of college drowning in classwork and football and a job on the side instead of partying with the other undergrads, and it's only in part because you knew you had to do well. You own these things like you own your teenage years at the youth center, not because you like it but because the alternative is them owning you.
You're used to edging away and being the island; you're used to making friendships without benefits. You love Garcia because she always got that, and let you build something whole out of being the voice on the other end of the phone. She came back to Chicago with you when Thanksgiving was free, and took her place among your sisters, and then you learned to hug her in person. Neither or you blushed when Momma made noises about grandbabies, and by the way everyone at the table laughed, it was clear that Momma knew the truth of things. That you'll always be closer with words rather than touch, with actions rather than connections.
You know Garcia's getting good at profiling when she says the same thing you've realised time and time again: that you're never out looking for someone to bring home. That sometimes it happens, because it's been a long time since you were a kid and you've grown, you have. And you can even be touched without remembering, now, you can even look up to a man without wondering when he's gonna call in that favour. Some of that's because of Gideon. If you ever find him, after you punch him, you'll have to thank him.
But even if you've grown, the truth of the matter is that you'll always get along better with women, with kids. With Garcia, who knows you like one of her computers, or with Prentiss, who's made being professional a way of life; you got along with Elle before she ran, because she never made it about you, and it isn't possible to be uncomfortable with JJ because that's just who she is. You gel with Reid, who's not exactly a kid but still vulnerable, still not a threat, doesn't ask you for anything but to have his back. It took longer to find that kind of easiness with Gideon and Hotch, and it's still not exactly like your bond with the rest of the team, and you still don't have it with Rossi.
Sometimes you sit at bars and just watch people, think about who you'd take home if you were looking for that, wonder if you could deal with bringing him home instead of her. Those nights, you settle for neither, and don't really feel the loss. If you'd grown up different, maybe you'd go for it. If you'd grown up different, maybe you'd still be in Chicago. Maybe you'd be dead, dropped in an alley somewhere by the bigger guy with the gun. Thing is, you're a survivor, and you never needed anyone but yourself to get through the shit you've seen. And you've got a family who loves you, a team that's basically another family, and the best friend you ever could have found. Sleeping alone most nights isn't a tough price to pay for that.