7A/N: I have one more six week class to finish and I am done with grad school. So in celebration, you all get a one shot chapter about Boston. This is going to be a bridge between my last story and the next one when we finally get into the show's published story lines. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me for the last few months. Keep hanging around because I'm just getting started.
Charmony: Thanks for the edit. Love ya girl.
Don't own 'em. Just escaping reality for awhile.
"Hotch, what do we have on this unsub?"
"Two bombs so far with one victim apiece. These bombs are extremely unique in their construction as well."
"How so?"
Morgan spoke up before Hotch could answer. "They are reinforced with steel bars and they have a mercury switch. That means if you move them the wrong way, they'll go off."
"Victimology?"
"All over the map. There's no real connection yet for either of the victims." Spencer turned to the other three members of the team as if he were about to say more when a quick knock sounded from the doorway.
"Agent Morgan? There's a phone call for you from someone named Desiree? She says it's urgent." One of the newer secretaries stuck her head in the door. "She's on line two and she wouldn't let me have you call her back."
Morgan sighed. "I wondered when she called me three times in a row." He picked up the phone in the conference room. "Des what's going on?" He suddenly stiffened as he listened to his sister. "Oh my g**! Is she alright? Where is she now?" He fell silent as Desiree continued. "Mercy Hospital, room 3205. Okay, let me see what I can work out and I'll let you know. I'll call you soon." He quickly hung up and turned to the team. "My mom just had a heart attack. She's in the ICU in Chicago." He paused as he looked at his boss. "Gideon, I know we've got a case but…"
Gideon interrupted the younger agent before he could finish. "Go. Take care of your family. Hotch, Reid and I can handle this. Let us know how she's doing when you get there."
Morgan sighed softly in relief. "Thanks Gideon. I really appreciate it."
"Have a safe flight," Hotch called to Morgan's back as he left the room as quickly as he could without actually running. A quick wave of his hand was the only answer as the dark skinned agent headed toward the elevator.
The room was silent for a moment before Gideon sighed. "We'd better get back to the task at hand. Unfortunately bombers don't usually stop unless they're caught. Wheels up in thirty minutes."
Spencer hurried after his dad, mentally rehearsing everything he could remember about bombs and their makers. This case seemed eerily similar to that of Mark Hofmann, who had bombed two different targets in the mid-eighties. An uneasy feeling washed over him as he realized they were effectively facing a bomber without their main bomb expert, since Morgan was now headed to Chicago to be with his mother. However, he had faith in both his dad and Hotch to catch the unsub before anyone else got hurt.
Two hours later, they found themselves landing in Boston. Gideon hurried them into the waiting SUV's as the TV monitors dotted around the airport continued to discuss the two recent bombings. Panelists discussed possible motives as well as the lack of suspects. One man even suggested that bringing in the FBI was too little too late, and that they should have been called right after the first bombing instead of waiting for a second victim.
Three days later
Gideon's frustration was palpable as he surveyed the latest bomb site. "We have got to find the connection between our victims before another bomb goes off."
"We're trying Jason. There isn't much to go on right now."
"Then find something!"
Spencer bit his lip as he watched his dad storm under the crime scene tape. He wasn't entirely sure why Gideon was taking this case so personally but he worried about what would happen if there was another bomb.
"Reid? Let's see what we can find on this latest victim." Hotch touched the younger agent's shoulder. "Your dad will be fine. He's just upset with himself right now because we don't have very much information."
"I know. I also know that Dad can be short sighted sometimes and that makes me worry that he'll make a mistake."
"That's why you and I are going to make sure he doesn't."
"Our unsub's name is Adrian Bale. He has one hostage in the warehouse with him and he won't hesitate to blow us all up if he wants to. Is the bomb squad standing by?"
"Yes sir. There are two bomb experts from the field office standing by along with four SWAT trained agents." The agent in charge of the Boston field office handed Gideon a radio. "Are you sure you can talk this guy down?"
Gideon frowned. "No, I'm not, but I have to try."
Spencer crossed his arms as Gideon keyed the mike on the radio. The nagging sense of unease was back and stronger than before. He just couldn't figure out what was making him so nervous. He pushed off the side of the SUV as he began pacing along the perimeter.
"Reid? What's wrong?" Hotch came to his side as he turned to make another pass.
"I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right. It's too easy or something. I mean we've been chasing this guy for almost two weeks and he suddenly gets caught in a warehouse? It almost seems like a set up."
Hotch regarded the young man for a few minutes before turning his own thoughtful gaze toward the warehouse. "You think he'll detonate the bomb no matter what Jason says?"
Spencer sighed, "I'm not sure. All I know is that something is seriously wrong here and I just can't put my finger on it." He glanced up at his superior. "Do you think I should tell Dad my suspicions?"
"Let's see how negotiations go for the next few minutes," Hotch advised. He squeezed Spencer's shoulder. "Your dad is one of the best profilers I've ever had the privilege of knowing."
Spencer sighed again as Hotch returned to Gideon's side. "Doesn't mean he's perfect though," he mumbled to himself.
The shrill ring of the phone intruded on the silence of the room. Rossi groaned as he forced his eyes open to stare at the clock on the table. He'd had a late night combined with several glasses of wine provided by his book publisher.
"Not even six am yet," he groused. He debated lifting the receiver and immediately dropping it but decided that if whoever was on the other end was calling this early, they would probably simply call back if he hung up on them. "Yes?"
"Uncle Dave? I need your help."
Rossi was instantly alert, not only from the sound of Spencer's voice but also the fact that the young man seemed to be choking back tears as he spoke. There was no way his nephew would be calling this early in the morning without a very good reason.
"Spencer? What's wrong bambino?"
"Did you see the news three days ago?"
"No, I've been promoting my new book with several signings, reading and then being wined and dined by my publishers." By now Rossi was sitting up, all of his attention focused on the phone. "What's happened?"
"There was a bombing Wednesday morning, in Boston. Six agents and one hostage were killed and several others injured." Spencer paused, dreading his next words. "Including Dad and Hotch."
Rossi swore softly in Italian. "How bad?"
"Hotch has some scratches from flying debris and Dad has a sprained wrist and a concussion but that's not the problem. Dad sent the agents in to get the hostage and didn't know that the guy had a remote detonator in his pocket. He thought he had him talked down and then he blew up the bomb anyway. Dad's blaming himself. He yelled at me and mom and he's shutting everyone out! He won't talk to Hotch or the shrink the field office sent over!"
Rossi swore again. Making a decision that cost lives, especially the lives of fellow agents, was every unit chief's nightmare. "Sounds like the beginnings of either depression or PTSD."
"I know. Mom said the same thing. She's really worried about him. He basically told her to stay home, and since Trish is in Florida right now, there's no one that she wants to leave Ezra and Thandie with for an extended length of time."
"He's still in Boston?"
"Yeah, we all are. There's an investigation going on and …" Spencer fell silent not wanting to finish his sentence.
"How badly are you hurt, Spencer?" Rossi asked gently, guessing at the reason for the abrupt silence.
"I was standing next to Dad when the bomb went off. I reinjured the ribs that I broke when I was in the Academy." Spencer's tone turned soft and hesitant. "They released me, but Dad's still in the hospital because the doctors claim they're worried about his head injury. I think it's because he won't talk to the psychologist.
Rossi frowned. "You may be right. Listen, I'm in Minneapolis right now, but I'm getting a flight to Boston as soon as I can."
"What about your book?"
"Eh, the book can sell itself. You guys need me more than it does."
"Thanks Uncle Dave," Spencer said gratefully.
"You bet bambino. I'll see you soon."
Rossi stretched as he waited for the plane to taxi to the gate. Although first class had its perks, he couldn't make time go any faster. He was impatient to get to Gideon and see just how badly his friend was affected. As he hurried through the terminal and picked up his rental car, his mind was racing on what he was going to find. The drive to the hospital seemed to take an eternity as he hit stoplight after stoplight, not to mention rush hour traffic. Finally he negotiated the entrance and found a parking space that wasn't too far from the hospital's front door. He caught the elevator to the sixth floor and headed down the hall.
"Uncle Dave!" Spencer appeared just as he passed the nurses' station. The young man grabbed him in a fierce hug that Rossi quickly returned. He held on until his nephew let go, wiping his eyes as he did.
"It's going to be alright bambino," he said holding the young doctor's shoulder.
"I'm really scared, Uncle Dave. I've never seen him like this. Not when Grandpa died, not when other agents have been killed in the line of duty, not ever."
Rossi grimaced slightly, "Let me talk to him and see if I can get him to open up."
Spencer nodded, still fighting back tears.
"Hey, it's going to be ok son. We'll get through this." Rossi pulled him into another hug. Spencer took a deep breath before leading his uncle down the hall to his father's room.
"Dad?" Spencer knocked and then poked his head around the door. "Dad, I brought someone to see you."
Gideon looked up from the folded paper he had been staring at. He sighed as his gaze fell on his son. "Spencer, I don't need to see anyone. I'm fine, and I would appreciate it if you would stop trying to fix me."
"Dad, I'm not trying to fix you. I'm trying to get you to admit that you need help. Seven people were killed and you are blaming yourself. That's normal. But if you don't deal with it, you'll end up having a breakdown or worse."
"Spencer, I told you. I'm fine!"
"But Dad, you're not fine. You're shutting out me and Hotch and you'll barely talk to Mom. You're not eating and hardly sleeping. You can't keep this up and you know it."
"Spencer's right Jason." Rossi stepped into the room behind the young doctor. "I can tell by looking at you that you're having trouble dealing with this. You haven't shaved, and your clothes look like you've been sleeping in them."
"You called him? After I specifically told you not to?" Gideon rounded on his son.
"I did what I thought was best. You need help Dad." Spencer unflinchingly held his ground.
"I don't need help! How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine!" Gideon lifted his hand in a threat to strike his son. Rossi moved faster than Spencer had ever seen him, grasping his friend's wrist and forcing his arm to drop.
"And the very fact that you are attempting to strike your son is proof that you're not fine. You have never struck Spencer in anger and if you were in control, you wouldn't be treating him like this now for trying to help you." Rossi's voice was lower and more dangerous than Spencer had ever heard it. The young man stood frozen as his father and uncle stared at each other in a fierce battle of wills. Finally Gideon's eyes closed and his entire body wilted as tears began to course down his face. Rossi turned his head enough to catch Spencer's eye before nodding toward the door. The youngest agent followed the unspoken request and slipped out of the room, leaving the two men alone.
"Talk to me Jason. What's going through your head?" Rossi asked gently as the tide of emotion stemmed.
"You're a profiler. Can't you tell?" Gideon muttered back, although without malice.
"Didn't we make a rule that we wouldn't profile each other?"
Gideon rolled his eyes at the man now sitting next to him. "You've never let that stop you before," he said before he sighed softly. "I screwed up. Big time. And I got six good agents killed, not to mention the hostage. If Spencer and Hotch had been any closer, they could have been killed as well. David, I put my son in danger!" His voice had risen to a fever pitch by the end of his rant. "I killed seven people!"
"No. Adrian Bale killed seven people. You were just there when it happened."
"But I made an error in judgment and I got them killed! If I hadn't been in such a hurry to get him in the car, I would have patted him down better and he wouldn't have been able to push that button."
"Could've, should've, would've. Jason, you know as well as I do that asking yourself 'what if' will kill you."
"I'd deserve it. I ****ed up!"
"What about your family? Spencer, Sarah, Ezra and Thandie? What would they do without you?"
"The same thing that five wives, nine kids, and who knows how many other family members are going to have to do without their husbands!"
"Jason, you made a mistake. Everyone who's ever been in leadership has made mistakes that get people hurt or killed. Yes you take it personally, but you have to figure out how to deal with it. You can't just shut everyone out and bury the pain. You did the same thing when you lost Adrianne and Stephen and we almost lost you until Spencer came into your life. You were close to a mental and physical breakdown and if you aren't careful, then you're going to end up in the same position. You need to talk this out with a professional)."
"No! I'm not go to see some shrink. All he's going to do is tell me how badly I screwed up and then he'll try to tell me how to get my head on straight. I'm not weak and I'm not out of control."
"Jason, you are out of control. You almost punched Spencer! I've seen you angry with him, but I've never seen you raise your hand to him like that." Rossi spoke softly yet firmly. "This isn't like you at all."
Gideon stared at him for a moment before his head dropped into his hands. "I know," he whispered softly. "I just don't know what to do about it."
"Yes you do. Talk to the shrink, then go home and let your family help you heal."
"And take a break from the field," Gideon added.
"I didn't say that."
A faint smile broke across his friend's face. "No, I did. I need a change of scenery." Abruptly he stood and walked to the window, staring out over the city. "Do you think the director would let me teach for a while?"
Rossi joined his friend. "I should think he'd let you do whatever you wanted. You're too valuable an agent to lose, especially like this."
"Thanks Dave," Gideon gave him a grateful smile. "Do you think Spencer will forgive me?"
"You're his dad. Of course he will." Rossi clapped him on the shoulder. "You want me to go get him?"
"Yeah, I do." Gideon watched as his friend left in search of his son and realized that maybe he could get through the dark days ahead after all.