Trigger warning for cannon level violence. Based on episode "Derailed"
"Everyone has a role, and if you act within the parameters of your role, the whole pack succeeds, and when that falls apart, so does the pack."
Excitement and nerves flow through Josie as she sits on the hard hot cushion of her train seat. The train holds little to dissipate the sweltering Texas heat inside the car.
Across from her sits Elle, nose in a file. Elle has been entrusted not only to conduct a custodial interview with child murderer William Devries for VICAP but to twist the experience into a learning moment for Josie. She's truly part of the team and they rely on her enough to have Josie shadow her.
She's glad to be here with just Elle. She's growing to care for everyone on the team but she's glad to be paired with just her. There's an understanding and respect between the pair that doesn't need acknowledging. Despite the lack of compromise that had led to them sweating in this train car.
Josie, extremely unfamiliar with the case, needed to review the files while Elle, trusted to not only lead the interview but guide Josie, required reviewing the files. Since driving to the prison wouldn't take terribly long from the airport, leading to neither being meaningfully prepped for the interview, a train ride was the decided compromise. That way neither had to drive and the ride would take an hour or so which hopefully provided ample time to familiarize themselves with the case.
Josie allows herself to cross her legs for comfort and to appear nonchalant. She resists bouncing her leg, wipes the horror at what William Devries did to those innocent children away, but doesn't notice when she runs her fingers through her hair.
Additionally, Elle seems uneasy but doesn't hide it nearly as well. There's no evidence on her face but her grip on her file is tight and her body rigid. The other train passengers miss this but it doesn't escape Josie's notice. Before she can think of a statement to calm any anxieties about the interview, Elle calls Gideon.
"It's me," she responds to his presumed greeting.
"We won't even be there for an hour," Elle explains to a question Josie can't hear, "We took a train from El Paso instead of renting a car. We both wanted to look over the files more."
Josie shoots her a teasing look and Elle, remembering the argument, returns a similar one before resuming her phone call. Josie pauses her reading, glad Elle finds comfort in calling Gideon. It males sense considering he fought for her to join the team.
Josie wonders, briefly, who she would call for reassurance. Prior to joining the team, her answer would've been Erica, her old SO. However, as time stretches on, it's more difficult to get her on the phone. It hurts but she tries to not let it bother her. After all, she has numerous duties to attend to while training new cadets in the academy. Her second guess is Hotch. He's her training officer and she has already began opening up to him, even if it's only crumbs. Gideon's kind and insightful but she always worries what he could profile from her. Derek and herself just repaired their working relationship but it isn't as strong as it could be, at least not yet. Her mind flits about between Elle, JJ, and Penelope but deep down, she knows who she would call.
She's already reached out to him in the middle of the night.
Elle replies quickly, as if cutting Gideon off, "If I know the crime better than he does. Yes, I remember, Dad."
Josie chooses not to withhold a laugh at the nickname. Afraid he might hear, Elle playfully whacks Josie's crossed leg but not hard enough to hurt. Josie only wishes she can see or hear his reply.
"Wait," Elle says, placing her free hand over her ear, then asks, "What?"
This catches Josie's attention wondering how far they have strayed from the nearest cell tower. She briefly wishes she asked Spencer about the subject before she left for the interview.
"Wait, I'm losing you," Elle says, a little more loudly this time.
"Yeah, okay. Tomorrow." The call suddenly drops leading Elle to repeat, "Hello? Hello?"
Josie shrugs after Elle puts her phone away.
"Don't be so worried. I know you'll make this VICAP questionnaire your bitch," she jokes.
"After reading this file, I want to make William Devries my bitch," Elle responds.
A smile grows on Josie's face as she returns her attention to the case file in front of her. She only manages to read two more sentences before she hears the brakes squeak causing the train to slow to a stop which is never good.
A man wearing earbuds, removes one and asks, "What the hell was that?"
Others on the train also glance around in search of the answer. Josie forces herself to be still as to think about the situation logically. With an unexpected stop can come frustration and fear so she projects a calm façade despite her own confusion at the situation. She looks at Elle but finds no answers with her since she's just as jarred as herself.
Answers, however, do end up arriving with a security guard.
"Everything's all right, folks. Everybody just relax. Everything's gonna be fine. Everything's fine." His voice is strong and conveys power and knowledge. He seems sure that the situation will be resolved with no further incident but both Josie and Elle know the repetition of everything being fine usually means the contrary.
When he's close enough to speak to without raising her voice, Elle asks, "What happened?"
"Nothing, ma'am," he says before noticing their case files. "You on the job?"
Elle replies first, "FBI."
He crouches down so he can whisper to them and informs them of what really happened, "Suicide. Somebody jumped in front of the train."
Elle's the first to offer help, "Is there anything we could do?"
"Unfortunately we have this procedure down fairly well." He turns his attention back to the other train passengers, "Everybody just relax. Everything's gonna be fine. We're gonna be back underway again shortly. Like I said, everything's gonna be okay. We got everything under control. Just stay in your seat."
It happens so fast no one can react in time to stop him. While the security guard speaks, a man abruptly stands and grabs the gun from the security guard's belt. Immediately following the theft, he shoots the guard in his abdomen but is moving again before the body hits the floor.
A smartly dressed woman exclaims at the chaos, "Oh my god!"
Knowing she has no gun but does have first aid training, Josie drops beside the man unceremoniously. Realistically, she wants to call 911 but there's no cell service. He's struggling to breathe so she tilts his head back slightly to open up his airway. Still he gasps meaning he might have a collapsed lung so she removes her blazer and uses it to staunch the bleeding from his lower torso. She's debating if she should risk putting him in a recovery position as the mayhem continues.
The man turns his attention to Elle and punches her in face with such fervor, he cuts open her face. While she's disorientated, he grabs her gun as well. He now holds a gun in each hand, swiveling in a circle to threaten each individual passenger.
"Nobody move!" he shouts.
"Okay, okay. You don't have to hurt anybody else," Elle says in calm voice hoping to placate him.
The same well dressed woman from before asks, "What are you doing?"
Instead of answering, he repeats, "Shut up! Shut up!"
Josie keeps pressure on the wound, exhibiting such force that his skin bows under her now blood stained hands.
His attention turns to her, the only one still moving.
He points Elle's gun at her, "Get up!"
While still maintaining compression, Josie says, "This man is hurt. He needs help, he needs an ambulance."
"I said get up!" He cocks the gun to show his seriousness.
She risks a peak at the man trying to figure out the best way out of the situation. She knows when trying to break someone out of a psychotic episode you want to validate their fears while insisting their delusions can't hurt them but she can't talk him down and Elle has already tried to calm him but that failed. She's secure in her self-defense skills but she isn't sure about an unstable individual wielding two guns. She could possibly stop him if he had only one and she was alone but there are too many variables with multiple guns and a train of hostages.
Despite her mind working overtime, she still notices the guards lips moving. It's subtle and she's sure the subject doesn't see it. He's begging her not to go, not to leave him alone to die on the dirty train floor. His lips still as he struggles to take his final breaths, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull.
"I'm sorry," she whispers as his eyes slide closed. She moves the blazer to respectfully cover his eyes before she stands, hands in surrender.
Spencer has hardly finished his first cup of sweetened coffee when JJ orders him to the conference room. She doesn't even stop when she tells him, she keeps walking. The absence of a greeting or any small talk tells him of the seriousness of whatever matter has been assigned to them. He quickly downs the last dregs as Derek comes up beside him.
Hotch's already inside the room with JJ as she queues up the security camera footage they have access to.
Again, she skips a formal greeting, getting right to the case, "Okay, this is from one of the security cameras inside the train. Six hostages in a car stopped on the tracks. We have one security guard dead from initial gunfire."
Spencer's attention is instantaneously grabbed by the man brandishing two guns in each hand, "Is this going on right now?"
"Yeah, in West Texas," JJ confirms.
Derek tears his eyes from the screen to ask, "Why are they asking for us?"
Hotch replies for JJ, "Because of a particular psychological aspect of the hostage taker, which we're especially equipped to handle,"
Spencer, whose eyes have not left the subject, asks, "Can you back that picture up a few frames?"
JJ complies, using the remote to back up the footage until she spots what she believes Spencer has seen.
He takes another glance at the subjects's face and his brain supplies the answer, "Tardive dyskinesia."
When no explanation comes forth, Derek asks, "Once more for those of us without an encyclopedic memory?"
"Severe facial tics—the kind that develop after years of taking anti-psychotic medication," he explains.
"So this guy's a psychotic?" Derek asks.
"A psychotic with hostages," Hotch says.
JJ continues, "And two guns."
Gideon arrives last but is familiar with the basics of the case.
He asks, "Hostage situation on a train?"
"Yeah, in Texas," JJ confirms.
"A train in Texas? My god," Gideon says, the words slipping out without him meaning to at the sight of them.
The subject is standing in full view of the camera, acting erratically while waving two loaded guns around haphazardly. They can see the six hostages huddled around one another but their faces are visible if only someone bothers to look. They sit across from one another, Elle with a nasty cut on her cheek and Josie with blood on her hands.
Derek is the first to question him, "What?"
He just speaks their names, "Elle. Josie."
His guilt starts to weigh him down as he suppresses thoughts of what could've happened if he wasn't so cavalier during his phone call with Elle earlier. Then there's Josie who hasn't even graduated the academy. She's young and inexperienced in what to do in this situation and it was his idea to send her along. He forces the feelings away, knowing that focusing on what he could've done differently is of no help.
"Elle? Josie," Derek repeats.
Spencer's heart somehow both drops and races at the sight of Elle's cut face and Josie's bloodied hands. Panic seizes his lungs making it hard to breathe. He searches Josie's face, all he can make out on the tape, but sees no wounds. She's sitting relatively up straight, not bent over in pain. That paired with Elle sitting up with defiance written across her face finally lets him breathe more evenly.
Still, he's the first person to leave the office for the airstrip.
Upon landing in Texas, the team are shuffled into a single black SUV. A feat that's not difficult due to Elle and Josie not being present. A thought Spencer wishes to will away.
Once everyone is inside the car and driving, JJ quickly gets the team further up to date, "Local authorities have the train surrounded. Bureau hostage rescue team snipers are in position, but they're hesitant to take action until negotiation is exhausted. The feed from the train's two video cameras are being routed to monitors on a mobile command center that the local bureau office brought in."
"We need to know who on that train is gonna be a help and who's going to be a problem," Hotch continues.
Derek, already pulling his phone out, says, "Let me get Garcia to work some magic on the video feeds."
"Como se dice hottie?" Penelope asks in lieu of a formal greeting as she does for most of the BAU team but especially Derek.
"Garcia," Derek answers. Knowing the bad news he's about to gift her, he plays along hoping to soften the blow.
Her smirk is heard in her response, "Precisely."
"Okay, listen to me. No playing," he says, his tone turning grave, "We're gonna be feeding you some security camera video from a hostage situation over a secure line. Can you work your face recognition software over it and tell me who's who?"
"If they have their picture on file anywhere, I will find them," she responds, a frisky tone still floating in her voice.
"Penelope," Derek says, using her first name to showcase how significant the case is, "Elle and Josie are on the train."
All playfulness drops from her as she says, "I'm into it."
Once she hangs up with Derek, she jumps into her work. The process is no different from any other case she's assisted on but feels entirely new to her. There's always a layer between her and the people affected by the case that's gone now. Now it's people she cares about. Elle and her may have gotten off to a rocky start but now they respect and understand one another.
Josie, however, is a different story. A perceived misunderstanding between the two when Josie first started blossomed into a funny story to tell at parties. They meet outside of work, share funny anecdotes, and most of all, she was the first one Josie referred to by first name without clarification.
Penelope jumped and hugged the pillow in her lap more securely. When Josie proposed an easy night in, just the two of them, she couldn't agree fast enough. Some movies and a pizza after such a long grueling week for the both of them was such a novel idea. Penelope even wanted to step out of her comfort zone of rom-coms, traditional comedies, and action movies where the male lead inexplicably lost his shirt. Josie floated the idea of watching a horror movie which Penelope agreed to. After everything they saw, she thought it would be an easy watch while pointing out any technology inaccuracies.
Instead, she was treated to the zombie apocalypse in London and the survivors heading to the Winchester.
"I'm so sorry," Josie said, forcing herself not to laugh. "I specifically chose a horror comedy to lessen the blow."
"I'm enjoying myself," Penelope said, still clutching the pillow in her lap like a life line.
Josie allowed herself to laugh. She had to, Shaun just passed another group of survivors that perfectly mirrored his.
"Yeah, you certainly look like it."
"I mean, I love Penelope Wilton and she's in this." Her knuckles were turning white.
Seeing how truly scared she was, Josie offered a joke to lighten the mood, "Because she has your name?"
"No, silly." Penelope's grip lightened, "She was in another show I like. You know the BBC only has like, five actors."
"Hey, at least I wasn't mean and thrown on Alien, my favorite horror movie," Josie said, a maniacal smirk on her face.
"That would be a cruel and unusual punishment. Why have I done to deserve such turmoil?" She turned her attention from the screen to her new friend.
She allowed herself to laugh again, "Okay, okay, next time you choose, Penelope."
Josie always tried to be as respectful and professional with the team. She always tried to use last names and proper titles. The only one she referred to by a nickname was JJ but she had specifically requested that she did. Yet, in the laughter and sound of "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen, the informal name just slipped out.
She focused her attention on the screen. Terror filled Josie's gut but it wasn't from the movie. She always calculated how to respond to any statement to avoid any misunderstanding, yes, but to also avoid people viewing her in a way she didn't approve. There wasn't even any alcohol to blame for the mistake. Instead, she was enjoying the moment with a friend and got swept away.
Penelope didn't even flinch at the slip. She just raised an eyebrow and asked, "Promise, pussy cat?"
These thoughts fuel Penelope as her fingers run across her multiple keyboards faster than she has thought possible. She does manage to get a decent look at Josie and Elle from the security camera footage and is incredibly grateful that they seem physically unharmed.
"She'll get us the names," Derek reassures himself more than the team.
He would be lying if he denies he's worried about the pair of them in there. Elle's his partner and he's supposed to have her back. At the BAU, Derek had been one of the first she opened up to. It was off him she bounced her ideas regarding the Footpath Killer's stutter. She was one of the few not to immediately shoot down his candle prank for Spencer's birthday. He isn't sure how he will react if she gets hurt and he isn't there to help her.
Then, there's Josie who is young and inexperienced but she's surprisingly resourceful which he learned the hard way. Still in the academy, Derek knows cadets need to learn self defense. Wanting to atone for his inappropriate comments, he had volunteered to practice with her to which she readily agreed. He should've known better by her response but he was so grateful that she forgave him and wanted to actively repair their working relationship.
He had no idea she needs no help with self defense.
His back hit the mat again while Josie used this time to fix her hair in the mirror. He took a moment to compose himself but still groaned as he stood. He rubbed his shoulder which took the brunt of his fall.
Noticing his discomfort, Josie apologized, "I'm sorry but you did say not to hold back."
"Oh, trust me, I'm regretting that statement," he joked, "Who's your trainer at the FBI? If we had the funds I'd say he deserves a raise."
"I didn't learn that at the academy. I take an advanced self defense class at the Community Center," she replied.
"Well give him my card. Maybe we could work out some kind of a deal," he said, taking a much needed sip of water.
"I'll tell her you're interested," Josie joked as she gave her arms a stretch.
Hands in surrender, Derek said, "My bad."
"It's fine. Truly." She wiped the sweat from her brow.
"You know when people say they're fine—"
Josie silenced him with a look and he mimicked locking his lips.
Knowing he was only kidding, she continued, "She actually teaches both the beginner and advanced classes until recently. She's stepping down from the beginner classes now that her daughter gave birth so she could help and recommended me for the job."
"What?" Derek exclaimed, "That's great."
"Yeah, I was honored but I don't know if I can."
"Can or should? Because if you think you can't, I can replay the footage of you tossing me like it's nothing." Derek pointed at the cameras surrounding them.
She laughed as she contemplated telling him. He had been so kind lately, trying desperately to apologize for his comments when she first arrived. She didn't want to divulge too much, she was too tired. Instead, she let him sneak a peak with a joke.
"In this line of work? I'd miss more sessions than I would make," she said.
"This job we do is important, no one is denying that but a person needs more. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices when JJ calls us but that doesn't mean we don't get to have a life." He approached her and made purposeful eye contact, showcasing how serious he was. "So the question is, do you want this?"
"More than anything," she replied instantaneously, "I applied to the bureau to help make people feel safer leaving their homes. This is just another way of doing that."
"Then I think you have your answer."
"Okay, I'll tell them I accept."
Expertly, Josie hid exactly how exhilarated she felt. She allowed herself a huge pleasant smile while she tightened her ponytail. She didn't feel regret for opening up, even as little as she did, when it came to Derek. He was impulsive, charismatic, and quick to jest but he had a good heart despite the job constantly weighing it down. However, she didn't wish to go further and redirected both of them back to the matter at hand.
"Speaking of," she began, already coating her words with a teasing undertone, "can I practice a maneuver where you reach for me and I place you in a hold where it's possible to break a wrist?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I didn't agree to wrist breaking!"
"I promise I'll be careful!"
"Have we had any contact inside the train yet?" Gideon asks.
"No," JJ says, consulting her notes before continuing, "it took two hours just to convince him to allow a two-way phone but he won't speak to anyone except what he calls the higher authorities."
Hotch's the first to guess, "God?"
"No mention of religion thus far," JJ says.
Spencer would normally have guessed before Hotch could. His brain can normally, easily, fill in blanks when speculating about cases alongside his teammates but in that moment, all he can think of are Josie's bloodied hands and the security guard wearing her blazer like a death shroud. She tried to save him, he knows this because he knows her and what she values in life. He knew she had before he had even seen the footage of the initial incident. He only hopes she doesn't blame herself because if she had refused, she'd be dead right next to him.
And he can't bear the thought.
"Has crisis negotiation's lead claimed to be the higher authority?" Hotch asks.
"The unsub won't speak to him any longer. He gave a deadline of three hours to produce this authority," JJ says.
Spencer finally finds a question to ask, "When was that?"
JJ flips through her notes once more as she does the mental math, "Uh, two and half hours ago."
Despite this logically causing death, he feels his blood turn to ice. It's the only metaphor he can liken to this worry that is so strong he briefly thinks it will consume him.
"Well, he wants to speak to the higher authority," Hotch reiterates.
"Then we better give it to him," Gideon says, "Put the lights on, sirens, honk the horns, make people get out of our way. Get as close to the barricade as possible. When we stop, we sit. We wait thirty seconds. Then we step out."
This is going to be the longest thirty seconds of everyone's life.
Talking is highly discouraged. The subject is adamant about the fact, even threatening violence, but he sits ways away speaking to someone who isn't there. Due to his distance and endless muttering, whispering goes largely unnoticed. Names are exchanged and doubts are briefly soothed by Linda, Josie and Elle. The subject is too far away for Josie or Elle to hear exactly what is said, especially considering they are each handcuffed to an armrest. Elle's bound by her own pair while the dead security guard's pair are used on Josie. They still sit facing one another which allows for at least some nonverbal communication.
With a single look, each knows the other is privy to the basics of what is happening. His behavior clearly showcases a lack of mental stability. He is frightened but they don't know what they can do to alleviate his pain. They don't know the specifics of his delusions and if they try to speak about it to calm him, it may cause a disastrous outcome.
Sirens are heard, growing closer leading to a shared glance of relief. Their team is coming.
From behind the seats, the subject whispers, "Here they come." His eyes never move from a single SUV that has just arrived.
"Teddy, you have to listen to me," the smartly dressed woman, Linda, says.
"No!" he shouts. "You have to listen to me now." When Linda doesn't speak again, he turns his attention back toward the SUV.
One of the younger hostages, Josh, quips, "Ooh lady, your boyfriend is whacked out of his mind."
Linda is quick to answer, "He's not my boyfriend."
His words are beginning to slur and Josie spots the neck of his liquor bottle poking out from his jacket. The last thing they need is a drunk who can't fully control his inhibitions making himself and everyone else on the train a target.
The man sitting in the corner with his briefcase clasped firmly in his hands, Anderson, asks, "Then who is he?"
Elle speaks first, the pair having worked it out hours ago, "He's a psych patient, right?"
"Yes. It's going to be okay," Linda repeats.
Anderson shouts quietly, "And you know that how?" Everyone is tired of hearing that sentiment being constantly repeated.
Elle looks at Josie, rolling her eyes, before asking, "You're his doctor?"
"I was taking him to Dallas to speak at a conference as an example of the progress being made to relieve severe psychosis," Linda explains.
Still slurring his words, Josh sarcastically asks, "He's an example of progress?"
"What do we do to calm him?" Elle is finding it hard to remain calm herself. She wants to retort something to shut him up but given his alcohol intake, it will more likely cause him to become belligerent when they need to keep quiet as to keep the subject calm.
Linda continues, "He's never had this sort of break from reality, never been violent."
"What can we do?" Elle asks.
"Make him feel less threatened," Linda expounds.
"We're a threat to him? He's got two guns," Josh says before Josie shushes him. They need to speak quietly as they plan otherwise they can end up like that poor security guard.
Glancing his way, she confirms once more that he is truly dead. His blood stopped flowing from his wound and the gasping ceased hours ago. Still, with his blood now cold and congealed on her hands, she wishes to see him move or even shout in pain. A sign of life from him isn't coming and she tries not to blame herself.
But his blood is quite literally on her hands.
A redhead, Elaine, starts groaning, breaking Josie out of her reverie.
From across her, Linda asks, "Are you alright?"
"No, oh, I think I'm gonna be sick," she manages to say before vomiting right on the train floor.
Josh remarks, "Oh, great."
In lieu of further shushing him, Josie shoots him a warning look. She does sneak a peak at the subject, Teddy, but he either hadn't heard or doesn't care as he watches her teammates' SUV waiting to make their first move.
Elle addresses Elaine, "Are you alright?"
She confirms she is but still her groaning persists.
"I just haven't been feeling that well lately. My stomach—"
She doesn't continue but she doesn't need to. Elle, Linda, and herself all fill in the blanks themselves.
Still, Linda wants to be perfectly sure, "You're not pregnant?"
The pain on her face is palpable and substantiates their hypothesis. She must be only a few weeks along, possibly just found out herself not terribly long ago. This is no kind of environment for her, the heat compounding with a psychotic wielding two guns. Josie wishes she can go to console her but her hand is still firmly locked to the armrest. The blood on her hands doesn't supply enough lubricant for her to slip free.
"Teddy, please." Linda stands and waits patiently for him to face her before continuing. "This girl is sick."
"Shut up! Sit down!" Teddy orders back, believing this to be a ruse. Just as quickly as he faces them, does he turn back to stare at the SUV.
She complies while Anderson uses the moment to open his briefcase ever so slightly.
Josh is the first to question, "What are you doing?"
"Don't be stupid," Elle warns.
Instead of a weapon, he pulls out a bible. Josie's heart softens and while he is lucky Teddy didn't see, she can understand the need for comfort.
"Are you kidding me?" Josh exclaims.
Anderson shushes him, beating Josie to the punch.
"What are you gonna do? Throw it at him?"
"If it gives him a sense of comfort, I don't see the issue. It's not unlike your bottle that's on full display right now," Josie whispers, using her free hand to point at his jacket where the offending item is.
He doesn't deny it, only staying silent from his attempt to hide the evidence further in his jacket.
Teddy, still immobile on the chairs, shouts at the vehicles outside the train, "Why are they just sitting there? Come on!"
"Whacked out his mind," Josh quips once again.
"Not only are you being too loud, you're not helping," Josie says.
Her gaze finds the body again and her words turn sour in her mouth. She wasn't able to help him.
It's a necessary evil, having to wait the thirty seconds as instructed. Still, to everyone in the SUV, it feels too long now knowing how short of a time frame they have.
"Don't look at the train," Gideon orders as he exits himself, "Ignore it. The higher authority isn't concerned about losing a few civilians."
It's difficult for Spencer to suppress his instinct to look at the train car. Not only are there innocent civilians inside, Josie and Elle are at the mercy of a gun-toting psychotic alongside them. Everyone is counting on the team to diffuse the situation before someone else has to die. Apprehension attacks him at the thought of coming face to face with Josie or Elle's lifeless body and he deeply wishes he can control his micro expressions even a fraction of the way Josie can.
"I'll talk to the HRT commander," Hotch states.
Once everyone has disembarked from the car, one officer immediately approaches them.
"I'm Frank Moretti," he greets, "Dallas field office."
Gideon shakes his outstretched hand, "Hi."
"Near as we can tell, your agents are still all right," he says.
Gideon maintains eye contact with the agent even though he can feel the subjects eyes on him through the train window. "Has the subject asked for anything, made any demands?"
"Not beyond wanting to talk to a higher authority," Frank says.
Derek tempers his anger, turning it into a question that, hopefully, will further the investigation, "How do we negotiate with a psychotic who won't talk to us?"
"That depends on the level of his particular delusion," Gideon explains. He understands his frustration and hopes it will motivate him to solve the mystery of the subject's delusion.
With the train in his peripheral sight line, Spencer finds he can breathe easier. His chest isn't as constricted and his blood is no longer ice. It can finally travel easier around his body and supplies his brain with enough oxygen to begin working again.
"Some psychotics believe they're being sent messages by the government, god, even aliens," he says, so glad to be of help again. "John Nash, he believed he was being recruited by aliens to save the world."
When he searched his mind for an example to further expound his meaning, he isn't surprised the first one that arrived regarded that particular mathematician. He doesn't pretend to misunderstand why his brain supplied this answer. After all, he can recall every syllable Josie uttered when they conversed about his life story.
It was nearing the end of the day. People still lingered as they often did in the BAU. JJ, having not stopped by with a farewell, remained in her office as she sifted through files to find their next assignment. Elle was finishing up her latest case report, incredibly focused and silent as she continued. Gideon's office door was slightly ajar, the soft glow of his lamp emanating from his room. He spoke quietly, on the phone with an officer he was consulting with regarding a case. Penelope stopped by for coffee, indicating she wasn't going home soon, needing to update her system. Hotch and Derek had departed not long ago. Hotch to kiss his child goodnight and Derek to visit the hardware store before it closed.
Spencer had finished his reports several minutes ago. His eidetic memory was useful to create detailed records but his brain often worked faster than his hand could causing his writing to be chaotic and messy. With no prior plans, he painstaking copied his work until it was legible and to avoid another discussion with Hotch about the comprehensibility of his reports.
Carefully, to avoid smudging her mascara, Josie rubbed her eyes. She had been staring at files and her computer for so long, it felt like her vision crossed. Her endurance was fading until she had to abandon her unfinished report. Knowing Spencer had completed his first draft a while back and that Elle would be displeased, to put it lightly, if she interrupted her, she visited him at his desk.
Perching herself on the edge, she asked him, "So what's on the agenda tonight?"
Spencer feigned giving the matter thought though his evening was wide open given that he was still there. He didn't even know which book he would read next. Instead of divulging this, he merely answered, "I have no concrete plans."
"Yeah, I don't either," she replied.
"Hard to believe I know." With her sarcastic tone, Spencer knew she was jesting and laughed along with her. It was a phenomenal feeling.
"I mean," she continued, "I have laundry I've been neglecting and a new unopened bottle of wine but outside that, not much. Maybe I'll pair the wine with a movie. Any recommendations?"
"I don't know if we'll like the same movies," he responded. He didn't watch a lot of media aside from certain shows such as Star Trek and Doctor Who or movies such as Star Wars and Solaris. Even when consuming Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy he preferred either the book or the radio show.
"You don't know that, Reid. What about something like A Beautiful Mind or La Vita è Bella?"
He couldn't keep the touch of disgust from his voice, "Really?"
"What? When I went to the library I saw them on the cart to be put back on the shelf. The slots for them on the shelf was empty so I figured they were good and I want to expand my horizons. Is that so laughable?"
"No!" he quickly interjected, "Not at all. It's just A Beautiful Mind took massive creative liberties for the sake of drama and tension instead of simply depicting John Nash's already interesting and complex life. As for La Vita è Bella I've never seen but I believe I read the book it's based on."
"What book haven't you read?"
"Quite a bit actually," Spencer began. He wanted to stop there but his mind kept going. "UNESCO estimates that 2.2 million books are published every year. Unfortunately, it's nearly impossible to know the exact number. There are so many categories to remember when counting such as self-published works, orphan works, not to mention throughout the years, titles across the globe have been reproduced in different editions, translations, and reprints, all of which further complicate the counting process. Then we would have to be sure to include journals, individual essays, serials, and much more. The exact number is unquantifiable but it is safe to assume there are many I haven't read."
She watched him speak with such patience and a relaxed smile. She didn't interrupt, she didn't check the time, and she didn't roll her eyes. She allowed him to come to his natural stopping point as he deemed his story finished. There was a softness in her gaze he was unfamiliar with. She was kind to him and the other members of the team but this was different. It was peaceful and he was grateful if his presence had any help with that.
"Thanks," she said, not removing herself from the situation despite the fact that he had finished his spiel.
He looked at her with confusion, "For what?" He didn't want to misread her meaning since she didn't showcase any behaviors giving it away.
She shrugged, "For sharing that with me and the advice. I will definitely be returning A Beautiful Mind tomorrow. Maybe you could recommend a biography instead?"
"Yeah absolutely," he said quickly, "The book of the same name by Sylvia Nasar is widely considered to be the best biography of the mathematician. Makes you wonder why they changed so much."
"Great, when I return the movie I'll see if they have the book in stock." She finally slid from his desk and while normally Spencer would disinfect the spot, he found himself not wanting to.
He watched her pack her things away and sign out, ready to head home for the night.
Before she could depart, he called out to her, "And Donahue?"
She turned toward him with a small, "Yeah?"
"Anytime, handsome." She tousled his hair, running her manicured fingers through it before she walked toward the elevator.
Once more, this action should bother him but instead, he wished for her to do it again.
Frank, not wanting to be seen as a weak link, remarks, "I saw the movie."
"Actually, the movie is rather inaccurate in its portrayal of—" Spencer begins the same speech he had given Josie.
"Okay, doc, doc, doc," Derek interrupts, needing to repeat himself several times for Spencer to hear him, "A movie review is not gonna help us right now. Let's move."
Shame too powerful to name nearly overshadows him as he says, "You're right. Sorry."
Knowing he's hurting, Gideon wants to offer words of encouragement but he can't. There's too little time to profile the subject with enough accuracy to uncover his delusion and use it to get everyone off the train unharmed. Besides, Gideon knows the only thing that will truly give Spencer peace of mind is the sight of watching Josie and Elle exiting the train.
The mobile commander center is dead ahead but still Gideon allows the others in first, "After you."
Hotch approaches the HRT team quietly and hunches over to not draw attention to himself. He kneels in the bushes by the other members of HRT grateful he can at least gaze upon the train that hosts two of his agents and four innocent civilians.
Without moving from his position, the commander confirms, "We're in position from every angle."
"All right. We might be able to negotiate with this guy but if he requests a priest or if his behavior in any way reflects an endgame of killing himself and the hostages, then it's over and we need to take the shot and rush the train," Hotch explains. Despite two of his own in danger, he still wants to exhaust all options before engaging the HRT.
Besides, he knows Josie and Elle would prefer that over their safety any day.
"We'll be ready when you need us," the commander says.
Back at the mobile lab, the screens are lit with the two separate security cameras' footage of the inside of the train. Everyone can hear him mutter to himself while proclaiming something will end today.
Spencer's studying the screens but it's unlike he had back in the conference room. He can't pull any information for the profile, instead he focuses on Josie. He sees her try to subtly free herself of the cuffs but there isn't enough blood on her hands to slip them. They are so tight it won't do much good anyway. In fact, the subject didn't lock the cuffs so each time she moves, they grow tighter.
"His delusions are important because that's what we have to play to," Gideon says, beginning a dialogue.
Derek, constantly aware of time ticking by, starts, "So the question of the day—"
Gideon finishes his thought, "What does he believe is happening here?"
"Good luck," comments Frank, "I tried to convince him I was the highest authority but he wouldn't believe me."
"Well, he's paranoid. He believes in secrets. If I'm the higher authority, I don't go to him. He comes to me. We have to help him ask the first question," Gideon goes on to describe the first step of their negotiation.
Spencer, his eyes never roaming from the monitor, sees the subject grow more irritated and knows he will explode soon. He gathers his team's attention with a simple, "Hey, guys."
He can no longer take the silence. He has seen them arrive, he knows who they are. If they won't reach out and call, then he will because by the time the sun has set, he will be free of it forever.
The more he thinks, the more he grows agitated until, like a powder keg, he explodes.
Linda, familiar with his emotions and illogical thinking, sees what's about to happen and immediately she tries to soothe him, "Ted, you have to try and—"
It doesn't work, instead he approaches Elaine, the one person who knows to sit still and be quiet, "Get up!"
He doesn't listen, rather grabbing Elaine by her hair forcing her to get up. She's sobbing and crying out in obvious pain. He tries to swing her out of her seat but Elaine hadn't properly set her feet on the floor. Alternatively, she slips into Linda's lap where she holds her, hoping to comfort her.
Elle continues to beg, "Take me! No, take me."
He pauses, getting in Elle's face, "You think I'm gonna let you send them messages?"
"They're gonna want to talk to me," she continues, "I can get you whatever it is that you want. Take me!"
Josie remains silent, calculating on how best to save Elaine while getting Teddy to trust her. Her heart pounds and it aches with each sob Elaine cries.
Josh isn't immune to the screaming and crying and he, too, tries to diffuse the situation, "Hey, man—"
Josie doesn't even get the chance to warn him to remain still before Teddy pistol whipped him, causing his skin on his forehead to split open and bleed profusely. Soon his eyes are closed due to the blood dripping down his face. His blood alcohol may have saved him from feeling the pain but it will also interfere with the clotting process.
Or at least, Spencer told her once.
Teddy shouts, pointing his gun at Anderson, "You, too?"
His hands immediately goes up in surrender as he begs, "No, no. I didn't do anything!"
Linda once again begins to pacify, "Ted, you're not in any danger here. You have to believe me."
Her words do little to calm and seem to infuriate him more. He points one gun at her stomach which makes Elaine panic but Josie can hardly blame her.
Josie quickly shuffles through her internal Rolodex trying to find the perfect persona to distract this mentally unwell man from the completely innocent civilian. She knows the basics of his delusion from little snippets she heard as he muttered to himself. Classic paranoid, everyone is out to get him but she isn't sure why. As he thrusts the gun closer, she begins weeping louder leading Josie to act.
Using the adrenaline and stress of the situation, she's laughing and tugging on her handcuff, getting his attention off Elaine and on her.
She continues laughing, placing a smug smile on her face while she says, "You really think they'll listen to your demands? She's new, too new. They don't care about her."
She knows playing into someone's delusion is dangerous and usually counterproductive when trying to help them but this is an unusual circumstance.
"Stop laughing!" he orders.
In response, he grabs her handcuff key from his pocket. With one hand still clutching the gun, he aims it at her head while he unlocks the cuff attached to the armrest just long enough to twist her free arm behind her back and rebind her.
All the while, Elle rattles her own handcuff and tries to dissuade him from hurting her.
Once he lifts her to her feet, she shoots Elle a quick look to silence her. This is the plan, the only one they have. Elaine now sits next to Linda who comforts her as her sobs grow quiet.
Spencer watches the interaction through the train cameras. At the sight of her antagonizing him, he shoots forward to better view her actions.
"Why is she doing that? Why is she provoking him?"
Hotch interrupts, knowing Spencer can and will ask these questions until the sun burns out, "Because the gun is now directed at her, not the civilian."
They observe powerless at the sight of him painfully wrenching her arm behind her back and handcuffing her once again. He yanks her to her feet only to shove her to the ground beside the phone they will be using communicate.
Spencer tries to sneak a peak what Josie was hiding, anything that might be going on inside her head. He clenches his jaw and digs his fingernails into his palms when the subject lifts the gun and points it right at her neck.
"You give them a signal, you die. If you stray from my words in the slightest, you die." He presses the gun against her neck. "Got it?"
Trying to focus on anything other than the cold metal forced against her windpipe, she repeats, "Got it."
He dials the phone and places it to her ear.
Knowing Teddy is near enough to overhear the conversation, still not fully trusting Josie, Gideon simply dives into the conversation. The higher authority has little regard for human life and though he hates not checking in with her mentally, he needs to save her life and everyone else's on the train. He answers, "Yes?"
Normally, she would've pretended not to know who's on the other line to help create mystique around the higher authority. However, she posed as one of them to redirect his attention from Elaine to herself. She doesn't need to hide the relief she feels just hearing Gideon's voice.
Teddy whispers his answer to her and she replicates his words exactly, "He wants to know who you are and who just arrived."
"Tell him it's someone who can help resolve the situation," Gideon instructs.
She does exactly as ordered and repeats his response verbatim.
"What part of the government do they work for?" Teddy forces her to ask.
Once she parrots the words back, Gideon replies, "I never said I was with the government."
She says the words back to Teddy, even using the pronoun "I" to showcase she's only saying and repeating exactly what she hears. This does not mollify his fear and instead causes the sensation to grow. He smacks a seat with his gun in frustration before turning his attention back to Josie. He presses the gun so hard into her forehead, she won't be surprised if it leaves a bruise.
Elle can't keep still any longer. She pulls on her handcuff but it does little aside from injuring her, "Don't hurt her!"
Teddy still holds the gun against her head with one hand and the phone in the other, "Ask who they work for. No, ask if they're NSA. No, ask—" he pauses and grunts before asking, "They're FBI, aren't they?"
Josie forces herself to breathe though she doubts, in his erratic state, he will notice her veins and arteries working harder as her heart hammers. He can't know he's right, he has to believe they are the higher authority.
Gideon senses this as well, "He can ask me himself."
She manages to not flinch when Teddy slams his fist encircled around the gun against the seats once again. Aggravation comes off him in waves until he can no longer take the sensation and puts the phone to his ear this time.
He shouts into the microphone, "Tell me who you are, or this agent dies!"
Red angry crescent moons form on Spencer's palms as he continues to clench his fist. It's a little painful but it helps ground him to the situation and stops him from crying out at the sight of Josie with the barrel of a gun pressing harshly against her forehead.
JJ is not a profiler but Spencer's worry is difficult to miss. She doesn't want to say anything, especially with a negotiation phone call happening. In lieu of words, she places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. She doesn't dare do more in fear of pushing past a boundary of his. Surprisingly, he releases his fist and grabs some of JJ's hand that still rests on his shoulder. He couldn't care less about the germs hopping from her hand to his.
"You know who I am," replies Gideon, as calm as the situation demands.
"If you're the higher authority, then you can have it removed," Teddy says.
Gideon, despite not knowing what it is, retorts, "That'll take some time."
Teddy's unhappy with that response and it shows in his statement, "I want it removed now."
"You know, you know it can't be done that quickly." His finger hovers over the end call button. "Good bye."
"No! Wait!" Teddy cries, "Okay, all right. One hour. You have one hour to remove it or I swear to God, I'll kill every agent on this train."
Once he hangs up, he stands and walks away, taking the gun with him. Josie takes the opportunity to suck a lungful of breath in through her nose. Only Elle notices on train while the other agents still outside note it as well.
She has willingly put her life in danger.
"It?" Frank repeats, "He wants it removed? Do you know what it is?"
"No. We just bought an hour though, to figure it out," Gideon says.
Everyone starts deliberating about the subject's delusion but JJ stays back knowing she's unable to help. Besides, even if she could, she can't get her last interaction with Josie out of her mind.
JJ hated having lunch her desk.
Whenever time permitted she would either take her lunch alongside her coworkers at the break table, walk a lap around the parking lot, or trade jokes at the coffee pot. Sometimes, however, the files on her desk grew to the degree that, if she wished to eat, she would have to eat at her desk.
It felt like the possible case files filled every crevice of the room, haunting it with the deaths of the people enshrined in a police file. It was the reason she was hardly ever found inside her office.
JJ popped open the top of her Tupperware container which held the salad she had made the night before. It wouldn't be the most exciting meal but she probably couldn't handle anything richer before she dived into the terrible details of these murders.
Just as she flipped open her first one, a knock was heard at the door. It was a polite courtesy since it was already propped open. JJ saw Josie standing at the precipice of the office with her hands full of coffee, a mystery brown paper bag, and her lunch.
She held up her contribution, "Special delivery."
JJ stood abruptly to help Josie handle the offerings. The pair managed to free up enough space on JJ's desk for the drinks and brown paper bag but Josie held onto her lunch; there wasn't enough room. Using her free hand, Josie picked up one of the coffees from the travel tray and handed it to JJ.
"Oh, wow. Thank you." She took the cup and took a tentative sip in case the temperature was too hot. Not only was it the perfect temperature but the flavor exploded onto her tongue. "That's my favorite, how did you know that?"
She shrugged with a playful smile, "A little blonde birdie told me. She also told me your favorite pastry." Josie wanted to push the bag closer to her but the files would not allow the movement so she just picked it up and put it down again.
JJ peaked inside and she found a giant blueberry muffin, "No way! Thank you so much. You didn't have to do this."
"I know but I haven't seen you all day." Her eyes roamed the room and saw how tightly packed it was. One wrong move and an avalanche would happen. "I wanted to be sure you weren't dead in a filing incident."
"Yeah, it's a little intense today. So thank you again for the treats, it's gonna make sorting these so much easier," JJ said, straightening the piles.
"An extra set of hands might help as well."
"Oh, I could never ask that of you."
"I know that's why I offered," she said, already sitting.
"You want to start on that pile—" she gestured to the one to Josie's right—"and I'll start on this one?"
"As long as you share that blueberry muffin," Josie joked grabbing the first file on the pile.
"Oh I could never finish that giant thing alone," JJ quipped back.
The weight of the files felt lighter and more manageable. It wasn't just having an extra hand but an extra heart to oversee the worst depravity humans had to offer.
And Josie's was larger than JJ had known.
After checking his watch, he says, "We have forty minutes left."
"Reid," Hotch says, getting his attention, "is there a delusion more common than others to a paranoid mind in a psychotic episode?" He knows that Spencer will know the answer and would have supplied said fact by now if it had been simply strangers on the train.
"Delusions are as varied as the people that have them," he explains, "They're colored by personal experience."
He hates how little help he is at the moment.
When Teddy begins muttering to himself and someone else not there once again, Linda uses the time to clean Josh's forehead wound. Josie manages to sneak a signal to Elle where a first aid kit resides before she passes the information along. He's still heavily under the influence and therefore not thinking about his actions before committing to them. He's infuriating in these times of crisis but he doesn't deserve to be hurt by Teddy, especially since it happened when he spoke up for Elaine when she was being targeted.
It's getting more and more difficult to think of Teddy as solely the subject of this hostage situation. What he did is wrong and he does have a debt to repay but that isn't enough for Josie. He's obviously ill and frightened.
Elle, however, focuses on the next step, "Any of you guys have a cell phone with service?"
"We're in the middle of nowhere. Welcome to Texas," Josh sarcastically says before exclaiming in pain.
"You're bleeding more than you should be from a cut this small," Linda says as she continues. She doesn't explicitly state the reason why but everyone knows. Even if Josie hadn't said anything, he isn't subtle.
Still, Josh lies, "Thin blood."
"The agents outside need to know what it is that he wants removed," Elle says, keeping her voice low.
Josie strains to hear from her position on the floor, kneeling beside the phone in case someone makes a call and Teddy needs a microphone. The textured floor of the train digs into her knees painfully but she remains still. He associates her with the higher authority and one wrong move can send him into a frenzy and she doesn't have to guess who he would target first.
She can barely understand Teddy as he continues to mutter. The most she can draw is that he seems to believe someone is with him. Someone he trusts and who fills his head with delusion. While she keeps him in her peripheral, she continues to listen to the others in case she hears a solution she can assist with.
"He thinks the government is watching him, monitoring him," Linda elucidates.
"They monitor all of us," Josh says, "They have ways of finding out everything you do."
Anderson, who remains immobile in his corner seat, says, "Don't be stupid."
"There's two FBI agents on board," Josh continues, "You think that's a coincidence?"
"I'm doing it!" Teddy shouts clearly enough for everyone to hear. Desperation and terror coats his voice and covers his face. It tugs at Josie's heartstrings.
Anderson's voice trembles as he asks, "He's going to kill us, isn't he?" He clutches his bible a little closer.
While Josie isn't a religious person by any means, she's glad he finds solace in the book. It keeps him still and it keeps him quiet enough.
"No," Linda answers with no hesitation.
Josh reminds, "He killed that security guard."
"The security guard had a gun," Linda explains, "He felt threatened by him."
Josie's attention snaps back to Teddy as he groans.
"Uh! It's so hot!" He goes further and removes his jacket.
Envy flashes through Josie for a millisecond. As she stays in her position, on her knees with her hands bound behind her back, it's laborious to remain still in that pose as to not vex Teddy. At least she can't see the security guard's blood coating her hands anymore.
Josh stands and starts to antagonize Teddy once again, "You took hostages in the middle of Texas. Of course it's hot."
Linda is quick to diffuse the tension. She stands and casually directs Josh to sit which he complies with.
"No! That's exactly what they want, Ted. They want to divert you from having it removed." Linda takes his heavily scarred arm. "You're close to having it removed."
Josie notices it as it's happening. She points the scars toward the security camera for the team to see.
The moment Gideon sees the haphazard scars, he knows.
Hotch flickers his gaze from Josie and Elle to the subject, "What?"
Gideon instructs, "Look at his arm."
The team all step closer to see what Gideon has found in the grainy low resolution footage.
"What is that?" Spencer asks no one in particular. He can see certain crisscrossing marks on the arm but can't pinpoint what they are exactly or what has caused it.
Derek squints as he scans what is clearly being shown for their sake, "They look like scars."
"The places he tried to dig it out with a razor or a pen," Gideon clarifies, pointing out the snaking pattern of the cuts.
"Dig what out?" Frank asks.
Giving it a quick thought, Hotch guesses the most logical solution, "Maybe a microchip?"
"Oh, man," remarks Spencer, distress rising to the surface, "It's almost as common a delusion as claiming to be the new messiah. Ralph Tortorici held an entire classroom hostage because he believed microchips had been implanted in his body." He silently berates himself, he should've known that.
"Wait a minute," Derek says, "This guy thinks he has some kind of device stuck in his arm?"
"Probably and if we don't take it out, he's going to kill somebody," Gideon lays everything they have out for all to see.
The moment Penelope has finished scouring every possible domain in search of everyone's identities, she calls Derek. She can't sit and wait for them to work their profiler magic, she needs to keep being productive in any way possible. Besides, with the uncertainty of the train hostages fates high in the air, she knows speaking with him will help calm her enough to keep her mind straight.
Upon seeing her name pop up on Caller ID, he answers, "Yeah. This is Morgan."
She doesn't greet him in any manner, flirty or not, instead bypassing right to the point, "I got your names."
"Okay, Garcia, talk to me," Derek says, grateful for any information that she's obtained.
Penelope quickly summarizes every passenger. Anderson, Josh, and Elaine get a dedicated sentence or two each. Just enough to help the team understand who they are and any obstacles they can create.
She does make sure to emphasize specific people who would be most cooperative in aiding them, "The lady in the nice suit is Linda Deaton, author and renowned psychiatrist."
"Penelope, you are truly amazing," Derek purposefully compliments her. He knows this situation is as difficult for her as it is for him.
"Yeah. Not so fast. I've got your bonus answer, too," Penelope continues, feeling undeserving of any praise until her friends are home safe. "Your hostage taker, he's famous, academically speaking. His name is Bryar. Dr. Theodore Bryar."
"Okay, you know what? Send it all to me right now. Keep digging. Penelope, nice work," Derek said hoping she recognizes how appreciative he always is of her.
Again, she feels that she doesn't deserve any accolades just yet, so she pleads, "Bring our girls home."
Derek promises, "I will."
She will forever be grateful for Derek Morgan.
From the moment Derek hangs up, Gideon's ready to move forward.
"Tell me about the hostages."
Derek dives into the electronic files Penelope has sent him. Usually, he would be more wary and respectful when sifting through someone's life but there isn't time. If they don't figure out more about what "it" is—
He doesn't want to think about that.
"That's it. That's all I got," Derek says once he finishes giving Gideon the basics, "Garcia's in the process of looking deeper but I don't really see how this lineup's gonna be much help to us, Gideon."
He sighs, looking at his agents on the train, "Well, let's just hope none of them makes the situation worse."
The sun had long since set, the overhead lights dimmed as it switched to energy conservation mode, and the whirl of a janitor waxing a floor could be heard.
Gideon, however, sat at his desk. Being in the BAU for as long as he had led to a highly irregular sleep schedule and in worst cases insomnia. His body was used to working a case for hours as they chased leads, tracked down killers, and saved victims with little to no break. While he may be stuck awake, he was glad that the other members of his team were able to go home and find rest.
At least that's what he believed until he heard some pages turning. Aside from the waxing machine, it was silent but there it was again. Gideon always had his door open during the day in case anyone needed to discuss a crucial matter with him. His door was closed as he believed to be one of the only team still there. Now, he heard creaking from a desk chair that desperately needed oiling. Pushing his door window blinds aside, he saw Josie sitting at her desk with her nose in a file.
He saw the signs that she was perturbed. She continually ran her fingers through hair and even tugged on the strands in some instances. Recognizing the case file, he knew the source of all the hair pulling to a degree. Something surrounding the case had to be bothering her. After the case was closed, she seemed to be managing herself well. She stayed late at first but recently she hadn't been last to leave.
He hadn't spoken with her alone since that first day. Mostly their interactions were limited to the cases they were working on. Hotch was entrusted to be her training agent and Gideon wanted to respect that. Still, the least he could offer was enough solace to get her home and resting.
He opened the door quietly, not wanting her to abandon whatever was so important to her in those files for fear of retribution. No agent, whether in the academy or not, ought to be afraid to talk about a case staying with them. He'd be lying if he said there weren't cases from years ago that still lingered in his mind. The trick was compartmentalization and letting yourself feel grief.
Not everyone had an eidetic memory. Some people had to sit and study for memorization, even when it was important. Spencer already remembered all the names of the women Franklin Graney raped and murdered. Josie had to work at it and each time she opened the files the scabbed over wound in her heart was ripped open once again. She always averted her eyes from the gruesome crime scene details instead reading about how they were mothers or enjoyed working out at home. Even then, it hurt to imagine the happy, full lives that were stolen from them. She was so engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't realize Gideon behind her until it was too late.
She hid any real emotion under a joke, "Is this where you ask me if I was working hard and I reply with hardly working?"
She expected a stern face followed by a friendly suggestion, which in reality was an order, to go home and rest.
He ignored her attempt at a redirection and pointed the conversation back on track. "Brenda Samms?"
She was caught. Josie's mind whirled as she thought of different excuses as to why she was here so late. She could slide a nonchalant facial expression on and lie but she didn't want to.
"She was found in her workout gear. She was actually using a videotape workout. I didn't know those did anything other than gather dust on a shelf." A sick sort of smile dusted Josie's face as she held the tears at bay.
She could still picture one akin to it at her apartment. She had taken time to clean it off and even exercise to it. It was brutal and Josie was in good shape, or at least she thought she was. Still, she completed the session, not for herself, but for Brenda who was attacked before she could even finish hers.
She kept it together so well when the team was around. Even when it was just Spencer on the phone and she bared her heart to him she at least had a semblance of control over her emotions. But with Gideon standing behind her in the dead of night, she started to fray at the seams.
"She had a husband, kids, and so much life left to live. All people are going to remember her for is being a victim. She doesn't deserve that," Josie continued.
She never truly minded silence. More often than not, she knew what was on people's minds anyway based on body language. Yet Gideon remained quiet, not offering her any wise words or even moving from his spot behind her. Perhaps that why he did it, it caused her to want to fill the hushed hallways.
Gideon still remained behind her but Josie could no longer take it. She spun fast in her chair with her next sentence already hanging from her painted lips.
"Why do people always insist on making victims of us?"
He didn't offer an explanation, wise words from experience, or reaffirm her belief in the profile. Rather, he gave her comfort by placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. No words would ever be enough so he opened a door, one of the only ones he usually kept closed, for her to ask for help. Her inability to do so was one of her bigger hurdles.
She didn't ask verbally but allowed herself one singular second for her mask to fall. Her eyes welled with tears and she sniffled before wiping away any evidence of her vulnerability.
"How do you always know what to say and what not to say?"
He shrugged and didn't reveal his secrets.
She laughed and took the lead. Standing, she gave him a huge embrace. It wasn't adrenaline charged or as intimate as when Spencer had held her. His hug reminded her of how her aunt would hold her and comfort her.
He didn't need to ask her what she meant and simply answered, "I know."
Sweat drips down Josie's back as she remains immobile on the floor. The temperature had been high before the subject, Teddy, took control of the train but now as the metal car sits still in the harsh Texas sun, it only grows warmer. The smell is horribly comparable to the intensity of the heat as Elaine's sick and the security guard's body fester. Elle and herself trust that the team now understands more of Teddy's delusion, especially with Linda's assist. But everyone else is still alarmed and prone to panic which the heat and stink are agitating.
Anderson's the first to break the silence, "Hey, why aren't they helping us?"
"We're gonna get through this just fine," Linda replies in lieu of Elle. One person can only assuage doubts so many times.
"We? He isn't pissed at us," Josh says, his words slurring heavier now that his bottle is lighter, "You're the government agent."
"He probably thinks we're all agents," Linda argues, "He believes almost everyone is."
Josh, under the influence of alcohol takes it upon himself to try to talk his way home. Empathizing with a subject is usually a great tactic to have them open up and reveal more of themselves to that someone. But Teddy is mentally ill and frightened, on edge from speaking with what he believes are the higher authority. Without knowing the particulars of his delusion, trying to talk him down will be counterintuitive. Even his psychiatrist knows it will do more harm than good to constantly bombard him. Both Elle and Josie know how to pick their words carefully and when to give him space.
"I'm not with any government agent. I'm with you," he says as he stands, hands easily visible. "Big brother, right? New-think? New-speak? Hate is love. War is peace."
This does little to dismantle the highly volatile Teddy. He points his gun at Josh, shouting, "Stop it!"
Linda's on her feet quickly, placing herself between Josh and the gun. "No, Ted, it's okay. He doesn't mean anything."
Despite it not working moments before, Josh continues, "Yeah, chill. I support you. Screw the government."
With one last verbal warning, everyone sits and only then does Teddy cease pointing his gun at anyone.
Most people stuck on the train may be furious with Linda due to believing she is responsible for their circumstances. It had been her idea to take Teddy to a conference in Dallas that she thought he was ready for. Josie can't even force herself to believe that she's at fault at all. She glances Linda's way once she's safely sat. Using body language alone, Josie expresses her gratitude to Linda for always keeping her composure and all the help she offers.
The heat isn't making it easy.
Huddling in the mobile commander center, every member of the team is at full attention. They know the basis of the subject's delusion, an idea of what he wants removed, and less than an hour to think of a plan. The minutes tick by as everyone converses on how best to move forward with the least amount casualties.
Hotch puts the question forth in the simplest terms hoping revitalize their discussion, "All right, how do we remove a microchip that's not there?"
"His speech is lucid," Spencer answers first, "There's no sign of neologisms, word salad, or loosening of associations. As long as he can systemize, he'll be able to keep his thinking relatively organized."
Derek asks for clarification, "Organized enough to see through any game we try to throw at him?"
While what Derek says is true, Hotch doesn't have to like it, "And if he's convinced it's in his arm and not in a place like his lower back or his neck—"
"An incision means he's gonna be watching," Gideon finishes.
"Maybe we can just convince him that he's been looking in the wrong place," Derek suggests.
Spencer's mind seems to run endlessly. It helps him read at a fantastically fast pace and aids him in creating an accurate profile when working a case. It can also be detrimental with how it runs endless scenarios of how that day will end and who among the hostages will live. His brain can't stop picturing Josie's bloodied hands and Elle's lacerated cheek. He forces himself to take a deep breath before his anxiety is noticed by the others and he's forced to quit working on the case until he calms down. When he does, there's a phantom sensation on his shoulders as he recalls in perfect detail the way Josie ran her fingers along them until they dropped and his mind went quiet. As he does, he finally realizes something. In all his panic, he hasn't realized that he is the next step.
"Or we could fake it. Conceal a chip in the palm—" he mimics the motion as if he's making a coin disappear—"a little sleight of hand."
"Come on," Derek says, already skeptical, "what are you talking about? A magic trick?"
"Yeah, I'm talking about a magic trick," Spencer says. Every minute they spend arguing about what is logically their best chance is a minute wasted and they don't have many left.
Hotch is quick to officially shut it down, "No."
"I used to do it during college exams," Spencer continues as he tries to not seem desperate, "I can make appear, I can make it disappear."
"We can't risk giving him another agent as a hostage," Hotch explains.
"We have to do something," Spencer says, his desperation permeates through his crumbling walls.
Derek gives it an honest thought. He hates that the kid's right, like always. The odds will be better than if they try to convince him he has been searching in the wrong place. That can cause him to grow more angry, frustrated, and scared which in turn can provoke him into pulling the trigger. A little misdirection will be best and safest for everyone involved, but that doesn't mean Spencer has to be the one to do it.
"All right, Reid," he concedes, "Let's go. Teach it to me."
Confusion sprouts on Spencer's face, "What? No."
"Look, if you can do it, I can do it. Show it to me," Derek says, his exasperation thinly veiled.
"I've been practicing this my whole life," Spencer explains, "We have less than thirty minutes."
"Reid, I am not about to let you get on that train with an armed psychotic," Derek says as he manages to keep his tone calm.
Spencer can't control his, "We don't have any other choice, do we?"
"No," Gideon says, finishing the argument, "We don't have any other choice."
JJ, who has been pouring over the subject's numerous academic papers, trusts Spencer and supports Gideon believing this is best. The subject's too smart for them to convince him he's wrong and there is too little time to try.
"Dr. Bryar's definitely one of the top physicists in the world," JJ explains. "He's written hundreds of papers on m-theory. I don't understand any of it. He worked for the government for several years in the eighties."
"Probably the source of his delusions," Gideon says, grabbing the pertinent information from JJ's summary.
"He's been institutionalized for the past nine years," JJ resumes.
Gideon's glad another piece of the profile slides into place, especially with Spencer about to board the train, "Until Dr. Deaton took him on a field trip."
Besides Josie, Linda is the only one Elle believes can help get anything significant done. They need to keep everyone calm despite the heat and stench working against them. She trusts the team is working to help from the outside but that doesn't mean Elle can't try to help from inside.
With Josie across the train, Elle whispers to Linda, "What we need is a strategy."
"I'll try to talk to him," Linda says.
Elle asks, "You think that's wise?"
Linda doesn't answer, she doesn't have one but she can't sit here and let Teddy terrorize these people. Then there are the injured like Josh and Elle though it isn't life threatening at the moment. Josie is bound and painfully kneeling on the dirty train floor. And who can forget the security guard whose dead body lay forever still, nothing but a blazer to conserve some respect? She can't let anyone else die because of her decision to bring him.
"Ted? You feel a little bit better now? You're in no danger here. These people don't want to hurt you. The FBI agents just happened to be on the train today. They weren't following you, weren't watching you." Her voice is soft and she's sure to maintain a safe distance away to avoid him feeling cornered. "Let them go, Ted. I'll stay with you. You and I will do this together, only you need to let these people go. I will wait with you. No one wants to hurt you. We don't want to hurt you."
Her words have little effect on him, he points the gun at her and yells, "No!"
At the sight, Josie tries to stand but her legs are heavy as if filled with lead from her kneeling causing her to fall over to the floor.
Linda's composure falters under the gun's gaze, "No, it's okay, Ted!"
"Don't!" Elle exclaims, standing as much as she can while still tethered to the arm rest. "I'll make sure that they never take it out of you. If you hurt one more person on this train, I swear to God, I'll make them leave it in you, forever."
Her words work and Teddy has the decency to point the gun toward the ground though his finger doesn't leave the trigger. He's fraying at the seams so the team needs to put into place whatever plan they have concocted.
Due to all the commotion, the team calls the two way telephone to talk to Teddy. Josie's grateful when he picks it up himself instead of using her like a microphone again.
He answers and his despair can be heard in his voice, "What?"
While she's immensely glad at the lack of a gun pointing at her as she plays the world's most dangerous game of telephone, she wishes she can hear Gideon's voice.
"I want it out," Teddy responds plainly. He sounds so small, so tired, and like a young child who wishes only to go home after being lost.
Gideon's answer upsets Teddy, "No, one. One technician."
She can't quite hear Gideon's soft spoken reply but whatever it is, sets Teddy off like a firework in July.
"One technician! Or every agent on this train dies!"
She makes sure not to flinch at his proclamation, but Anderson clutches his bible harder, Elaine stifles her cries, and Josh reaches for his bottle that has long gone empty.
"Not anymore," Teddy replies to Gideon's response, "I want it out now. Right now! Now!"
He begins crying tears of his own as he hangs up the phone. It's difficult to ignore the pang of pity in Josie's chest, even as she glances at the security guard's still body once more.
With no time to think of an alternate plan, Spencer acquires a bullet proof Kevlar vest. While he does tighten the straps over his torso, Derek is sure to double check his binds. Hotch makes quick work dismantling a walkie talkie to reveal the interior and what can hopefully pass for a microchip.
Frank is pacing, "I don't know about this."
Hotch inspects the piece of machinery he has pulled from the walkie talkie and deems it sufficient enough for their task, "It'll look better when it's covered."
Frank pauses and asks, "With what?"
"Blood," Hotch replies simply.
"Reid, do not take this vest off," Derek orders as he inspects his fixing of the vest. "In hostage situations, SWAT sometimes won't even tell the negotiator when they're deciding to go in. Do you know why that is?"
"Because the slightest change in tone of voice or choice of words can give the whole thing away," Spencer answers.
"That's right. Don't make eye contact with Elle or Josie. You're a technician. You've never seen them before," Gideon explains as he, too, gives Spencer a once over.
Spencer confirms, "Got it."
"Now remember, play into the guy's fantasy. Believe it yourself," Derek says.
"Actually, did you know that dentists and surgeons have been recruited to secretly implant these during otherwise normal medical procedures? This has been happening on and off since the last 1930s," Spencer rambles leading to confused and concerned looks from Gideon and Derek. "You told me to believe."
Feeling a little lighter, Derek laughs, "Let's go."
"All right. One government issued microchip." Hotch hands the so-called microchip to Spencer.
Wanting to rehearse with the new object, Spencer begins fiddling with it to be well-prepped before he enters the train. Due to its very compact size, he keeps dropping it. He's glad for the gloves since they are powdered and allow for better grip, especially since his palms grow more sweaty each time he drops it.
"You gotta relax, man," Derek advises, noticing the way he hands shake as he practices.
Spencer tries to keep the frustration from his voice, "The chip's a lot smaller than I'm used to doing it with, all right?"
Gideon's own anxieties grow as Spencer drops it again, "I'm pulling the plug on this."
"No, no, hold on. One more," Spencer nearly begs.
He takes a deep breath and gives it one more go. He thinks of Josie and Elle trapped in there counting on them, counting on him. Josie once said she believes in him in a time when he hadn't and he can't let her down, not now. With that thought he manages to complete the trick.
Seeing his success, Gideon, with a stern tone, says, "Take his chip out then get off the train. You understand?"
Spencer nods as he hides the object in his palm.
"Tell him you need to get back to the higher authority," Gideon continues, "Say you have guidelines to follow, whatever. Do not stay in there with him. That's an order."
"Yes, sir," Spencer says, "Could you guys do me a favor?"
With sincerity, Derek responds, "Anything."
Looking at his teammates, he asks, "Could at least one of you look like you're gonna see me again?"
"See you when you get back," Hotch says, granting him his request.
Spencer lets out a laugh but can't tell if it's genuine or nerves. He takes another deep breath and with his supplies in hand and the "microchip" hidden in his palm, he walks to the train.
Hotch radioes HRT to update them, "Tell your men to get whatever target they can. If this starts to go bad, we're gonna go in."
The captain responds with a warning, "Probably not gonna have a great shot."
"Take the one they can get," Hotch commands.
Noticing the technician making his way toward the train, Teddy painfully and roughly grabs Josie's arm, lifting her to her feet. His grip is tight enough to damage her skin but she keeps quiet and allows him to hold her close as a human shield, the gun pointing at her head.
Once announced that someone, a technician, will be entering to remove it from Teddy's arm, her mind whirls with possibilities on who they will send. He has been conferring with Gideon so he's a strong possibility. Hotch proved himself successful in a similar situation at the hospital. Derek's incredibly charismatic which can be considered an asset in getting Teddy to trust him.
Instead, Spencer walks through the door.
It's a struggle to keep her breathing even. She played up that she is an agent for Teddy earlier so she hopes her panic has a cover. Still, she hates the sight of him with his hands up. When he was trapped in the ER, she thought nothing could be harder than the mere thought of him staring down the barrel of gun.
She is wrong, so very wrong.
"That's far enough," Teddy says, stopping his advance.
"Hello, everyone." His voice is soft so he clears his throat before continuing, "I'm here to remove a chip from Dr. Bryar."
"Take the vest off," he orders, "I want to see you."
"I don't have any weapons. The higher authority doesn't authorize it for technicians," Spencer says, thinking on his feet quickly. Is that why they sent him?
He isn't amused, shouting, "Take it off!"
Spencer goes about removing his vest and Josie withholds a groan. She has been worried, horrified, at him being in this train with Teddy but at least he has the Kevlar. Now he has no protection against Teddy, especially with Josie bound.
His gun shifts from Josie to Spencer and it is enough to make her almost flinch, "Come closer. I want to see both of your hands at all times." Teddy tosses Josie to the floor before he sits as well. "Sit across from me."
There isn't a sound from Spencer and she's incredibly grateful. The wound on Josh's forehead reminds her that speaking out of turn will make Teddy afraid and therefore dangerous.
Teddy holds out his arm for Spencer to take. He needs precision, as if he has done this exact procedure numerous times. Instead, his hand shakes a little bit but enough to be noticeable.
Teddy's voice is harsh as he asks, "Why are you so nervous?"
"I told you. I'm not used to being around guns," Spencer reiterates as he cleans the skin above the "chip". "This is going to probably sting a little bit."
To his credit, he doesn't look queasy as he slices Teddy's skin open. He has a ferocity in his gaze as if he has done this procedure multiple times. He peels back the skin ever so slightly as he pretends to fish for the chip in his arm. To his credit, Teddy doesn't complain even once.
She isn't sure what the end game here is. There's no chip in his arm, everyone on the team knows it. Perhaps this is a distraction while the others outside ready their guns and tear gas canisters before they rush the train.
Instead, Spencer pulls a tiny little microchip from Teddy's forearm that had obviously not been there before.
Josie hides her surprise from her face. A little sleight of hand, that's why it had to Spencer who came in. She didn't know he does magic.
However, this only reenforced Josh's drunken rambling, "Whoa! Did you see that?"
Replacing the terror on Teddy's face is pure glee. He laughs giddily at the belief he's finally free.
"I knew it. I knew it," he mumbles to himself.
Spencer rises quickly, "I've got to go to the higher authority—"
Teddy stops him, "Not yet!"
"Okay." Spencer complies and sits back down.
"Turn it on." Teddy orders, pointing the gun at Spencer's abdomen. "Turn the chip on."
Spencer manages to keep cool, "Excuse me?"
He doesn't even bother to glance her way, keeping the gun trained on Spencer, "Turn it on or I pull the trigger."
The smallest gasp escapes Josie.
"I can't turn it on," Spencer says.
"Why not? Why not?" Teddy questions repeatedly.
Her head's racing with possibilities. She doesn't even ponder what excuse to give as to why he can't turn the useless piece of technology on. The concept doesn't even enter her brain. All she can think of is if she can shoot to her feet and step in front of Spencer before the gun goes off.
Elle, however, manages to interject an explanation, "Because it has to be implanted."
"She's right," Spencer continues, building off her response, "The chip derives its power from tiny electrical impulses fired between neurons. It has to be in your skin to work. I really got to go—"
Again Spencer tries to leave but once again, Teddy thrusts his gun closer to his torso.
"Sit down! You're not going anywhere," he says.
The phone rings. Josie knows it's a team member and she hopes Gideon or whoever is calling can convince Teddy to let Spencer leave. Her heart is hammering and sweat builds as she watches the gun pointed directly at him.
"It's probably the higher authority. I told you I have protocols to follow. I was supposed to go right back out there. I-I have rules. You want me to stay, I'm obviously going to stay but, I mean, you're going to be the one that has to explain it to the man," Spencer explains. His words are a little wobbly from nerves, understandably, but she hopes Teddy either blames it on the presence of a gun or won't care.
Teddy laments, "Why can't you all just leave me alone?"
Josh is up and out of his seat before he even speaks, anger evident in his voice, "Leave you alone?"
"Stay out of this," Spencer warns in a low voice.
"No. The government does watch us. You got microwaves and satellites. I'm with you, man," Josh continues as his words slurred.
Spencer urges louder this time, "Do not agitate him."
Josie remains silent from her position on the floor but tries to silently urge him to stop. She knows how this looks and doesn't blame him for being distraught at what he thinks he witnessed. Perhaps if he were sober, he might've kept his thoughts to himself. But he stands, belligerent and drunk, all his inhibitions gone. He probably doesn't even feel pain from his forehead wound which should remind him of what Teddy is capable of.
"Screw you," Josh says to both Spencer and Josie.
"Dr. Bryar, answer the phone," Spencer advises, hoping Gideon can diffuse the situation which is creeping to a boiling point.
"My old man used to have tracking devices in his cars. He said it was for theft but it's so he could find out where I'd go," Josh rants, "And what about personal recordings and televisions? You don't think someone's monitoring everything you watch? You know how many patents are issued for devices to monitor people? Look it up, man."
Elle, tired of his drunken rambling, speaks over him, "Answer the phone, Ted."
"Stop. This isn't going to help," Linda cautions as she notices the signs of Teddy becoming overstimulated.
Josh merely shouts back, "What the hell do you know?"
"Ted, he doesn't know what he's talking about. He's just a kid," Linda continues, standing with one placating hand out in front of her.
Josh shouts, "Who you calling a kid?"
Elle yells back, "Sit down!"
His attention turns to Elle, "Oh, now you're gonna tell me what to do? He'd only have one gun if you weren't here." It doesn't last as he speaks to Teddy again. "I'm with you, man."
Eventually, Josie can't take his bellows anymore, "Shut up! You are not helping the situation." She turns her attention back to Teddy and softens her tone, "Please answer the phone. They can help you."
Spencer manages to keep his voice calm, "Answer the phone, Dr. Bryar. It's the higher authority."
The boiling point is reached.
The train car is too loud, too chaotic, and it frightens him. There are too many voices, the deafening ringing of the phone, and it feels as though he is being pulled in every direction. The faces of everyone on the train blur together and he needs it to end. He acts irrationally and, since his finger never left the trigger, he pulls it.
Elle screams out, "No!" as he shoots but it's too late.
With no aim and no clear target in sight, the bullet lands in Linda, staining her beige sweater with red.
The phone ceases ringing and it is deathly quiet for one singular second as the moment hangs in the air.
With a small and meek voice, a confused Linda calls out, "Teddy?"
"Oh, damn. Damn! Oh!" Josh exclaims, at last feeling remorse.
Linda starts to slump but Josh and Elaine manage to catch her, helping her softly reach the floor. Her blood is already beginning to pool and stain her clothes by the time she reaches the filthy train floor. Her breathing is quickening but without an ambulance and her bound state Josie isn't sure if it's from pain or a collapsed lung. He did hit her in the side and low but bullets hardly stay where they land. It's entirely possible that it's still traveling, causing more damage until it's removed. Everyone crowds around her, even Spencer, but no one staunches the bleeding.
"You need to put pressure on her wound," Josie shouts from her kneeling position.
Teddy, so clearly distraught over the situation, mumbles, "Shut up."
Glancing at the back wall, she sees nothing disturbed. There are no cracked walls or broken glass and Josie never heard the bullet hitting the wall.
"There's no exit wound," she continues, ignoring Teddy's order, "Lay her on her back it'll help control the bleeding."
He covers his ears with his hands, one still wrapped around the gun as he repeats, "Shut up."
Knowing her life is on the line, Josie continues, "Keep her airway clear and don't crowd her."
"Wait!" Spencer shouts as he sees Teddy raise his arm.
The first thing she registers is her ears ringing. Blood trickles into her eyes blurring her vision. Finally the sharp pain begins in her temple. She's lying on the floor with no memory of her fall. She forces her eyes to focus on Linda and she seems more comfortable. Her breathing has steadied as Elaine applies pressure on the bleeding wound which makes Josie happy, all things considered. Realizing Teddy must have pistol whipped her, she allows herself a moment to compose herself and will the ringing away.
Elle freezes. She's been pulling against her handcuffs every chance she gets as if it will break the armrest and free her. But at the sight of Josie's bloody head, she freezes.
For once, it isn't Gideon who dials the phone; it's Hotch. Seeing his trainee with such a raw wound causes him to act. Despite how rashly he has reacted, he still knows it's the right thing to do. He needs to redirect the subject, Teddy, away from the hostages and hopefully the higher authority can talk him down before someone else gets hurt.
Elle's devastated but still, she says, "Ted, no one in this train is an agent but me. No one else. I'm the only one. You can let everybody else go."
"Dr. Bryar, we need to get this woman help," Spencer says from his position beside Linda. His gaze, however, doesn't leave Josie's injury.
Teddy, clearly crying, asks, "Who's going to help me?"
"The higher authorities can help you. They're not what you think," Spencer explains. "They're not the enemy. They can help you, Dr. Bryar."
Elaine and Josh are tending to Linda and Spencer needs to heed Josie's warning about too many people crowding. Besides, she requires professional help and the hospital. The only way to do that is to have Teddy release them.
"Not anymore. It's not gone," Teddy says, his voice weary and tired. When he speaks again, it isn't to Spencer, "Well, you just said when the chip came out, it would go away. I-I still hear it." He pauses, as if listening to a response. "But you said it was the only one, Leo. I can still feel the buzzing, the burning."
With everyone's attention either on Linda or Teddy, Anderson slowly opens his briefcase knowing what has to be done but unsure if he can complete it. One person is already dead today, another severely injured, and despite his intention when he boarded the train that morning, that is too many for him.
"Dr. Bryar," Spencer says, getting his attention once again.
It works, Teddy points the gun at him. The sight perks Josie up into a seated position as she tries to wipe the blood from her vision with her shoulder.
Elle cries out through clenched teeth, "Reid!"
He already shot someone he trusts and is important to him. He will not hesitate to pull the trigger against someone he truly believes works for the higher authority.
Spencer soothes her worries, "It's all right, Elle."
Teddy, in a small voice asks, "Is there another one?"
"You know there isn't. If there were, Leo would've told you," Spencer says.
"Make it stop!" Teddy pleads.
"I know what it's like," Spencer explains.
He repeats, "Make it stop!"
Josie's first instinct is to beg Spencer to stop talking. Beg him to stop gathering his attention while he still has one gun clasped in his hand with another that lies in wait in his waistband. Logically, she knows they need to convince Teddy to let them go, Linda's life depends on it, but that doesn't mean she wishes for Spencer to do so. If she had her way, she never would have allowed him to walk into the train. Even with all those thoughts swirling in her head, she trusts him. More so than just as a teammate, but as someone capable and smart enough to gain Teddy's confidence. She said she believes in him and it's time to put it to the most important test. So she follows her second instinct and remains quiet.
"I know what the voices are like," he continues, "The voices, they won't stop. They've been talking to you since you were a child."
"You're lying to me," Teddy says.
Then Spencer does something unexpected.
"That's Leo speaking. That's not even Dr. Bryar" he shifts his gaze to over Teddy's shoulder. "Why don't you let him think for himself, Leo?"
"You—do you see him?" With this subtle confirmation, Teddy finally points the gun from Spencer to the floor. Josie finds herself enjoying a lungful of air at the sight.
"Yeah, he's right there." He looks toward the approximation of where his delusion stands. "Why don't you let him make his own decisions?"
If Josie knows that confirming someone's delusion is usually counterproductive then Spencer definitely knows it. Still, she remains head fast in her trust of him knowing he's gearing up toward something that will help them. Especially since Linda grows paler with every second.
He continues, attention back on Teddy, "The voices, they helped you, right? That's where you get your ideas from. While the other kids were outside on the playground, you were inside reading, studying, learning." Feeling safe enough, Spencer stands. "The voices wouldn't stop. They helped you understand things that other people could never realize and then as you grew older, it became almost a responsibility, right? A responsibility to use that ability, to use your knowledge."
Josie always feels lucky to witness when Spencer's passionate brain takes hold of him. Usually transfixed by his intellectual chatter, Josie finds her heart beating anxiously faster this time. There's something different compared to other times he's shared information. There is something similar in his speech pattern to when he played at being a technician with the higher authority or when speaking with Leo. Teddy may not notice this detail but she does.
"Then m-theory encompassing all the strings unifying the theories. You know, it's funny. Most people say that m-theory can never be proved because the mathematical tools do not yet exist. But you see it, right? Am I right?" Remembering Derek's advice, Spencer leans into his mania, "You can see the different strings unifying the dimensions, the gravitational infinities canceling each other out. You see them, right, Dr. Bryar? You see them because you have the tools. Your mind is that tool."
Teddy is growing more and more frustrated, "Shut up!"
Even with limited knowledge of the subject, she knows several words he speaks are false. Spencer's incredibly knowledgeable about whatever he speaks of, even when the facts are untrue. It draws Teddy in, Spencer weaving just enough scientific fact with delusion to keep his attention. Hotch taught her empathy was a common tool used to have a subject trust them and Spencer's wielding that emotion expertly. Hope isn't a sensation she's familiar with but that doesn't stop it from blooming in her chest right next to her aching heart.
As Spencer continues his monologue, he notices Teddy inches closer to Spencer and thus, Elle, a fact she recognizes as well. "And I have to believe that if you put your mind to it, you'll realize that only you can make Leo stop. You can make him stop by understanding him, by understanding that he is liar, and he only wants bad things for you. I need you to believe that, Dr. Bryar."
Finally, he's close enough to her that Elle's able to grab the spare gun from Teddy's belt. Before he can fully process what just happened, Elle kicks him hard enough for him to lose his footing.
With Elle still locked to the armrest, Spencer quickly picks up where she leaves off. He grabs the single gun that remains but Teddy's loathe to let it go. They grapple, tug, and pull but neither want to let go.
Spencer isn't the strongest individual, Josie knows that, he probably isn't even the strongest on the train. Given the situation, she's sure his adrenaline is how he maintains his grip at all. Still, it might not be enough and Elle's unable to help due to still being tethered to the armrest. Josie tries to stand and help with a well timed kick. However, as she stands, her head grows dizzy to the point it takes her back to the floor.
A gun shot echoes off the metal walls.
Unaware of where the bullet originates or where it lands, Josie cries out in anguish, "Spencer!"
The moment where she's unsure who was hit is excruciating. Due to her attempt to help, her vision has grown blurry but is slowly focusing. Her face floods with emotion as she searches for a spot of red or listens for a groan, not caring if everyone can see each thought and feeling passing through her. Spencer may be panting but his white shirt remains stain free. Only when she sees that he's not injured, does she notice who actually fired the shot. Anderson's standing, gun still in hand, in obvious shock. His bullet has landed in Teddy, blood blooming from his wound. As his brain catches up with what happened to his body, he falls to the floor, hand over wound.
"I had to. He was going to kill us. I had to," Anderson says, clearly distraught, "God forgive me."
"We need an ambulance," Spencer says pushing the gun away from his hand.
Instead, Gideon, having entered from the back the moment the situation began to reach its climax, examines him. Despite everything Teddy has done, Gideon still tends to his wound.
Realizing Gideon's on the train, Josie forces herself back together until her face is devoid of the inner turmoil she just suffered.
The first people off the train are the civilian hostages who are not injured. Removing them gives the EMTs more room to work to save Linda and Teddy's lives. Two ambulances have arrived therefore each person is being worked on.
As she exits, Josie strains to see Linda one last time or to hear the EMTs regarding her prognosis. She's unable to discern anything concrete until she passes the security guard one final time. Her steps slow slightly as she mentally says goodbye.
Each one of the agents are assigned someone in charge of their debriefings. Gideon speaks to Spencer alone, Derek approaches Elle, and Josie's unsurprised when Hotch pulls her aside. What does surprise her is before any questions are asked, Hotch grabs a water bottle and paper towels from the surveillance van. They are in Texas and Josie has been trapped in a hot metal car containing no air conditioner for multiple hours. It makes sense that he wants to cool her and stave off a heat stroke while both sets of EMTs are occupied. Instead, once the water is poured into the towel making it damp, he carefully takes one of her blood stained hands and begins cleaning them.
His hands are gentle, like a father cleaning his child's scraped knee after a particular hard tumble. It shocks her since the residue isn't from a wound she sustained. Still, he's a profiler and must have realized the effect it has on her. She kept glancing over to the security guard's motionless body and even sacrificed her blazer in a bizarre attempt for him to maintain some dignity in death. It's very clear from any angle of the security camera footage. She feels more relaxed since she's in the comparably cooler air and free from the scent of vomit and death.
But she doesn't feel truly better until her hands are blood free, even the cuticles.
The day prior, Josie sat in Hotch's office.
Her ankles were crossed and her hands were folded in her lap. This wasn't a personal visit but professional. She sat in one of the chairs while he sat at his desk instead of the couch and armchair. They would have meetings like this when time permitted where he would test her profiling knowledge as she gained more experience with each case they worked. He was stern and if Josie made a small mistake, he would pause and explain why she was wrong but he was never condescending.
That could be seen as micro-managing to many but given the circumstances, it was crucial. When dealing with any subject, it was imperative that nothing go awry as it could lead to catastrophic failure.
"I should empathize with any and all struggles he's experienced. I don't want to reject him because when he feels safe, he'll start talking," Josie said, answering one of Hotch's many questions.
"That is correct but be warned, he wants to see the fear and disgust in your eyes. He likes watching people squirm," he followed up.
"I'm aware, sir, but thank you for the reminder," she replied.
Closing the file, he asked, "Are you nervous?"
"No," she responded after giving the question a moment's thought, "because it is critical for VICAP to receive this interview as it can help us catch future killers."
Hotch capped his pen and put his notepad away signaling the end of their session. Josie waited for a verbal dismissal but Hotch was silent on the matter. Occasionally he would check in with her mentally to be sure she was carrying the heavy load the BAU put on each of its team members but this felt different.
"I've been communicating with the Unit Chief of our Sex Crimes Unit," he revealed.
The news perplexed Josie but she stowed that reaction away. It did not shock her that Hotch had been convening with the Unit Chief about her. She was a prospective agent in the bureau, it made sense the two would swap reports. There was not a member on this team that did not know of her ambitions. What shocked her was, for a fleeting moment, she forgot that she ever wanted to leave. She was enjoying being part of the team and especially the team members but it was more than that. She was truly enjoying the work she was doing.
Realizing she was quiet for quite some time, she said, "Oh, thank you. That's really kind of you."
"You don't seem too happy about that statement," he said, no insinuation hidden behind his words.
"I'm sorry if I seem ungrateful, that's not my intention," she explained, "I'm not sure everyone's training agent would go out of their way for someone like this."
"You show great promise. You've been a welcome and refreshing addition." No lies were spoken.
"Thank you but it's truly a testament of how great this team is."
"Enjoying the experience?"
"Yes but it's more than that." She let her mask fall, showing just how much she adored being there. "They're fantastic people and so are you."
"I hope you aren't buttering me up," Hotch joked, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.
Her own painted lips reciprocated the action, "Oh no, you'll know when I do. I guess I've just been happy here. I hope that's not concerning given all we see."
"There's nothing wrong with taking pride in your work," he said.
Josie continued, mentioning the unspoken part, "Just don't take it home with you."
"Guess there's nothing left to teach me."
With the blood gone, her hands feel like they belong to her again. She doubts she will ever truly forget the feeling of his blood flooding between her fingers but this is a start. Once finished, Hotch throws the paper towels in the trash inside the surveillance van.
Knowing he did that so she doesn't have to look at it any longer, she says , "Thank you."
He manages a smile and nods, "Let's get you to the hospital."
"No, I'm fine," she says, waving off his concern.
"You have a laceration on your forehead. You going to the hospital. I'll drive you."
The term feels strangely natural in her mouth. The comfort, the concern, and his teachings are all considered to be staples of fatherhood. At least, she supposes given her biological father is an extremely poor example of one.
The drive is silent and the tension of the day endures, thick in the air. Hotch drives while Josie's mind whirls in the passenger seat. She thinks of Teddy's tearful apology and Linda lying still as the EMTs work to save her life. Most of all, Josie thinks of the security guard she couldn't save. He remained there on the floor as she left, her blazer still covering his face in an effort to give him a scrap of dignity in his death. Does he have family? Friends?
"I didn't even get his name," Josie says, hoping Hotch will have an answer.
Hotch replies, "Don't do that."
But Josie can't help it, she continues, "He may not have said anything but I know he didn't want to die alone, afraid, on that dirty train floor. He practically begged me but I left him."
Her voice is cold, mechanical, because she worries if she lets her emotion show, she will break in a way she never has before.
"I saw the footage. You did the right thing, Josie," Hotch says, voice soft as he says her first name, "If you didn't comply you would be dead right beside him. The subject was capable of pulling that trigger and believed it just, that the world was rid of one more agent."
"His name is Teddy," she corrects, "He was a victim, too. A victim of his own mind."
Hotch allows for a moment of silence. When investigating with the local police, they urge avoiding using a sensationalized name when possible. Instead, they advise the media and police to use the term unknown subject, or unsub for short. It takes power from the name and offers less notoriety. Once a case is solved and moves to trials, they usually use their forename. He supposes this counts as well.
Given what Josie just endured, he knows she may need reassurance but not for herself.
"We're going to do everything we can for him," Hotch say.
She looks his way, "Really?"
"He's mentally ill," he continues. "A prison isn't going to give him the help he needs. He can't be around the general populous, he's still too much of a danger to himself and others. He still needs to be held accountable for all he did today but sending him to prison is counterproductive."
Finding no words, Josie simply nods. Nothing Hotch said was false and it doesn't stray too far from her own heart. While stuck on that train with him, she found it harder and harder to think of him like any other subject, known or unknown, that they have faced. Clara, the arsonist, flashes quickly in her mind. Despite everything she did and the people she hurt or intended to hurt, Josie feels sorrowful for her plight. So far, it has been difficult to condemn these people for their crimes when their own mind is working against them.
A quick peak to Josie's face reveals nothing of the turmoil in her head. Yet, her silence speaks volumes.
"I want you to know I'm proud of you for how you handled yourself," he says. He wants to be sure she knows how he feels about the situation now that it has concluded.
"If it were up to me, I would count what happened here as the last credits you require to graduate," he says.
Finally she smiles, "You're a giant softy, you know that?"
Upon arriving in the hospital, Hotch helps Josie check in and stays by her side while the nurses take her vitals and find her a room. Partly because of her head wound and elevated body temperature possibly limiting her cognitive abilities and partly because he doesn't trust her not to leave against medical advice. The wounds on her wrists from being bound are superficial and need only a light cleaning and some bandages. Luckily, her head requires no stitches and won't even scar. Once they receive the imaging results from the CT scans and MRI, it reveals a diagnosis of a mild concussion. She's prescribed rest and over the counter pain medicine.
While waiting to be discharged, Hotch receives a phone call from Hayley. He sent her a simple text message earlier informing her that he should be home soon. She must be calling back either for a specific time or just to hear his voice and know he's safe.
Josie hears the ring and notices the conflicted look on his face. Due to his furrowed brows and light eyes, she knows who's calling. If it's pertaining to the case, he would answer in front of her and if it's an acquaintance or friend, he would decline the call for the moment. The fact he wants to hit accept and a modicum of privacy, Josie knows Hayley's calling.
"Answer it," she say. "Teddy isn't going anywhere but surgery and I'm waiting for discharge paperwork which will take a while. Talk to her, you know you want to."
"If I hear you leave this room before being formally discharged," Hotch begins.
"You'll ground me, I get it. Go," she finishes.
A ghost of a smile flashes on his face before he answers with a small hello as he departs. It's a sweet, domestic peak into a side of Hotch he keeps hidden, for good reason.
Usually, she doesn't mind being alone. There's a sadistic comfort in it, one she's so accustomed to cocooning herself in. This time feels vastly different as her mind replays ways she could've prevented the security guard's death, Linda being hurt, or that horrible second when she thought Spencer had been shot. She hopes for a distraction, any kind to drag her away from these awful thoughts, such as her phone. She could at least call someone for some kind of update on Elle, Linda, or even Teddy with it. Josie wishes she can have her phone back but it's considered evidence for the time being. She can't fathom how many missed calls and unread texts Penelope has sent her now that the case is concluded.
Instead, her salvation begins with a knock.
Her head perks up, expecting to see Hotch after having hung up with Hayley. But in the doorway, stands Spencer, concern flooding his face.
She musters a smirk, "Now there's a doctor I trust to examine me."
His distress doesn't leave his face even as he enters the room. Had this been any other situation where she's smirking and being flirty, he would not be concerned. But they are in a hospital where Josie sits with her wounded forehead after being attacked by a frightened psychotic who had been holding a train of people hostage, including her, while wielding two guns.
Still, after witnessing her fall to the floor coated in her own blood, he yearns to see her genuinely smile.
So he quips back, "Like bureau insurance could cover me."
His heart stops hammering as hard when she grants him a moment of her melodious laughter. However, his eyes can't stray from the angry red mark barely hidden by adhesive sutures. It doesn't lessen the guilt he felt at the situation.
She notices his gaze and wants to put his worries at ease, "I'm fine."
He looks like he has leagues more to say, Spencer often does. While Josie finds it to be a blessing to witness when his brain seizes control of his mouth, that doesn't mean she wishes for him to worry over her. His brows are furrowed as his eyes scan the doctor's handiwork in applying her bandages. It's a sight she is loathe to see, both the apprehension on his face and being fused over.
He's close enough for her to reach out and smooth the distress from his face and she redirects the conversation, "Have you seen Elle? How is she?"
As her hand caresses his face, his mind briefly forgets the sight of her being struck down by Teddy. For a moment, he's so soothed by her. The comfort is sweet but feels wrong as she is the injured one in the hospital.
"Exactly as you'd expect," he replies, "Last I saw she was yelling at the doctors to hurry up so she could leave."
"Sounds like her," she jokes, her smile still gracing her face.
While he adores her smile, it stretches the skin around her suture and brings his attention back to it. "How's your head?"
She drops her hands into her lap, feeling like she has overstayed her welcome, "Fine. No stitches, no scar, just a mild concussion."
"They're sending me home. Same thing." She shrugs.
Why does she have so little care for herself?
"I wish you wouldn't be so cavalier about this," he says, "A concussion, even a mild one, is still a traumatic brain injury that can affect brain function. Effects can include headaches and trouble with concentration, memory, balance, mood, and sleep. Symptoms can last for days, weeks, or even longer. During a concussion, the brain slides back and forth against the inner walls of the skull. Sometimes a mild traumatic brain injury can lead to bleeding in or around the brain, causing prolonged drowsiness, confusion, and, sometimes, death."
"Why, Reid, you're so handsome when you're worried," she says, flirtatiously tousling his hair.
While he's sure she's merely being playful with her quip, he can't move past the use of his last name. Before that day, it wouldn't confuse him as she refers to nearly everyone by last name. The only outliers are Elle and JJ but JJ requested they use her nickname. While everyone calls Elle by her first name, causing Josie to follow suit. He has never specified a proclivity to his name, either first or last when being addressed. Except when it comes to introductions, then he's partial to doctor over agent. But in the chaos of those last minutes in the train, terror coating her voice when he reached for the gun, the way she cried out for him was different.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can," she says, "I mean, I'm pretty sure I owe you a life debt after today."
He places his hands in his pockets to avoid fidgeting, "Why'd you call me Spencer?"
She quirks an eyebrow, "That's your name isn't it? Though I can call you Heracles if you prefer."
His confusion deepens, "What?"
"Well," she begins, "some people might argue that Super Man is the better choice but your jawline looks like it was carved by Pygmalion, himself, and much more deserving of Greek Demi-God."
"But you never call me Spencer."
Terror attacks her but she makes sure no evidence of it's visible as she asks, "Is that an issue?"
"No, no," he quickly answers. In fact, when giving the matter a moment's thought, he finds he likes being referred to by his first name when it comes to her.
She doesn't hide her exasperation, asking, "Then what's the problem?"
Spencer's mind is a mess. He's never experienced anything like it before. Usually he can juggle multiple thoughts as easily as a circus clown. But when the thoughts consist of her being smacked in that train coupled with her indifference to the entire situation, and his lingering guilt at simply watching it happen has him feeling overwhelmed. He wants to push the feelings and thoughts down given the location and circumstance but they refuse to disappear.
He manages to temper most of them but one persists. His shame seems to manifest stronger the more he tries to ignore the feeling. He was sent in there to prevent further loss, and Josie's hurt. It's his fault she's here, the guilt festers under his skin, fusing to him and he isn't sure if it will ever release its iron grip on him.
"The problem is that you are incapable of giving me a straight answer. I truly don't understand how you can be so glib about this whole situation. I will never forget what happened today."
"Of course you can't forget," she retaliates, "You have an eidetic memory, Reid!"
Of course she's being defensive, she has just gone through a traumatic experience and received a concussion diagnosis, she may not be thinking rationally. He should relent, there's still time to beseech forgiveness but when she uses his last name again as an attempt to keep him at arms length, he can't stop the words from pouring out of his mouth.
"You know that's not what I mean. Don't be stupid."
Once the words leaves him, he feels immense regret. He expects anger, shouting, and hostility. Instead, he catches a flicker of betrayal before she locks it away.
"No," he immediately begins retracting his statement, "I didn't mean—"
"But—" he needs to apologize. He can't let it end there.
"Stop it! That's enough." She stands from her place in the bed, walking to the other edge of the room.
"Wait, you should sit down and rest," Spencer says, following her.
"Enough!" She raises her voice, anything to stop him from getting closer. "Why're you even bothering telling me this? I'm too stupid to understand, right? Just go."
Spencer stops his approach but is unable to move toward the door.
"Go!" She repeats, still heated before the fight leaves her voice and she pleads, "Please."
People call that word a magical one. When someone says it, people usually feel compelled to help. When Josie utters that single syllable word, it's no different and he has to obey her wishes. So, with an apology still hanging from his lips, he leaves.
Josie's head finds her hands with despair. It's one thing to open up in the dead of the night when she can pretend it didn't happen by sunrise. But there in the hospital where the Texas sun still shone brightly is too much. There's no shroud of darkness for her to hide in. He's insistent in wanting to know her and it frightens her. So she does what she has always done and pushes him away. This time, however, is different.
This time she regrets it.
She doesn't just push him away, she shoved him back. Even with all he said, the sorrow burrows itself into her chest.
She lets herself get lost in the mirth of seeing Elle standing untethered with a smirk poised on her lips. She's a little worse for wear but her laceration lacks any sutures and her wrist that had been cuffed is padded with a thick bandage. Still, she stands straight and tall even as Josie embraces her. The affection causes her shoulders to slump and ceases Spencer's words echoing in her head.
Josie pulls away first, "Wait, how did you get discharged before me?
"Threaten enough admin and they'll expedite your paperwork," Elle shrugs.
She walks back to the hospital cot to sit and pats the spot next to her as she asks, "How're you feeling?"
"Better than you, I'm assuming." Elle rests beside her.
She plays dumb, "Yeah, they didn't even suture your wound in the slightest."
"Sure, I got lucky but that's not what I mean," Elle says.
The only thing Josie wishes to do is to go home and rest. Her head no longer throbs and her wrists no longer ache due to the pain medicines from the hospital kicking in. The treatment, however, does nothing to lessen the grief she feels inside. The security guard, Linda, and even Teddy flash through her mind.
Ignoring her previous statement, Josie asks, "Any word on Linda and Teddy?"
Elle forces back a retort regarding her use of the subjects given name. Josie has been through enough that day. The train she was riding was taken hostage, she put herself in harm's way to protect Elaine, and worst of all, ended up in the hospital due to injuries she sustained trying to save Linda's life. She doesn't need a lecture, she needs help to put her mind at ease.
"They're both going to live," Elle says, knowing what she needs to hear first. "Linda's surgery went well, she's alive and lucid. Teddy has been arrested and will be transported to a mental hospital pending the doctors clearing him."
Josie takes the information in, nodding her head at the news. She should be happy, she does feel happy. Still, despite what Hotch said, she thinks the security guard dying before there was a chance of getting him help is her fault. Maybe Spencer's right, maybe she is stupid.
"You don't have to say anything, Elle," she interrupts, "Don't take this the wrong way but I'd rather not hear how it wasn't my fault and I did everything I could. Those words are empty."
"I thought Gideon was supposed to be the brooding one."
The comment shocks a laugh out of Josie. She purposefully presses Elle's buttons despite the disastrous results she received when she did the same to Spencer. The guilt still hangs heavy in her stomach. Maybe she really did do everything she could to save his life, but she didn't do everything she could for him. She left him alone to die on the dirty train floor despite his eyes pleading that she stay with him until his final moments concluded. She was told if she didn't comply, she would be dead alongside him. The last look he gave her as he struggled for breath is a sight that will haunt her. With the feelings refusing to dissipate, she searches for something familiar and comforting. Loneliness is as familiar to her as air is to her lungs but it isn't comforting, Elle turning her self-loathing into a moment of laughter, however, is.
So, she decides to double down, "Yeah, he's your dad, why aren't you taking after him?"
Recalling their last interaction, Elle replies, "Because I have the feeling if I call him dad again he'll suspend me."
"All I hear is a vacation."
"You're a good kid, you know." Elle slings an arm over Josie's shoulders.
She laughs but once again feels the desire to push Elle away but she forces that feeling away and instead says, "You're a good person, too."
"Apparently you're also a bad judge of character," she jokes.
"I mean it." Josie allows Elle to glimpse behind the curtain she shrouds her feelings in. She lets her see the sincerity in her words.
Elle fails to suppress a smile, "How would you feel about me harassing the hospital staff until they finally give you your discharge paperwork?"
"Usually I'm against being rude to people just trying to do their job but I just want to go home," Josie replies.
Spencer isn't one to gaze upon his phone for hours on end. The only reason he even has one is so that he can be easily reached regarding cases. Lately, it has grown in importance, especially after his last phone call with Josie proceeding his qualification exam. Now it feels like the most important object he owns. While sleep eluding him is nothing new, the cause is. Occasionally the fear of nightmares or his mind endlessly working keeps him awake but now it's the sensation of guilt. He feels so plagued by it as he repetitiously replays the conversation between himself and Josie in the hospital. He was extremely in the wrong during the argument. He knows how to interact with victims, after all he has read numerous books on the subject. That alongside watching JJ's bedside talk coupled with his own experiences, he knows what should be said. It shouldn't have been any different but it was.
Even if he didn't possesses an eidetic memory, he will never forget the haunting feeling he had watching Teddy strike her. The sound, the blood, the way her eyes were unfocused once she opened them again will stay with him forever. He should have mentioned this to Gideon during the debrief. Maybe if he had, he might've handled himself better in the hospital when confronted by Josie. Her reaction was valid and expected after witnessing and experiencing a traumatic event and a head injury. Even trained FBI agents aren't always immune to the brain's reaction to danger.
Now that hours have passed and his adrenaline has fully exited his body, all he can think about is how to apologize. He knows not to do it at work as to not put her in an awkward position and given their strained relationship, they won't be meeting outside of Quantico anytime soon. Technically, he can send a letter but the postal service is a slow and arduous process. He isn't sure if he'd survive the wait.
So he sits, phone in his hand as he tries to gather his courage to call her. Everytime he's about to flip the phone open, he recalls how betrayed she looked for that brief moment before hiding it away as if he is an intruder on her personal feelings and he'd lose his nerve. Trapped in this endless cycle, he thinks he will be tormented forever.
He answers it on the first ring, "Hello?"
He neglects a formal greeting. Josie remembers joking with him about it last time despite the dread that had lived in her stomach. It's impossible to completely predict how a conversation will go but she had been anticipating his recitation of his name and an offer of help. He always answers the phone like that, even when a member of the team calls. It stuns her for a moment but she quickly gathers herself.
"Does the lack of a polite greeting mean you're still mad at me?"
She means it a silly flirtatious remark to break the ice but instead her voice catches at the very end, betraying how hurt she still feels. She has never had a problem hiding her feelings around others but either can't or won't when addressing Spencer.
"No, I'm not angry with you," he replies instantaneously. In his mind, there's no hesitation or doubt but his tone reveals how frustrated he still is.
She scoffs in disbelief, "Come on, do you know who you're talking to? I know you have Caller ID."
"Alright I'm angry but not with you, with myself." He takes a steeling breath. Suddenly, he wishes he had crafted some semblance of an outline for this apology. "I went in that train to help defuse the situation and instead you got hurt. Watching him strike you like that when I had to pretend not to know you, pretend not to care—makes me wish I didn't have an eidetic memory."
There's another pause, but Josie knows he still has more to say. She exhibits patience as he gathers and works through his thoughts. By his cadence, she knows this is just as hard for him to speak about as it is for her.
"At the hospital," he continues, "you should've been furious at me instead of flirting and bantering. So, I provoked you in an unhealthy attempt to assuage any misgivings I had for myself. I'm so sorry."
Before she dialed his number, she prepared herself for how she presumed he would react. She had been ready for his anger, any scolding, and rejection. She never imagined he would apologize first and unprompted. The sincerity coating his voice pushes up against the dam inside her chest, holding back her swirling thoughts and feelings regarding everything that happened on the train. Her hand shakes as she recalls how warm the security guard's blood was before it cooled and became so sticky she thought it would be forever fused with her skin becoming one with her.
"Thank you for saying that but I'm not blameless in this. I latched onto all those negative emotions because-" she swallows back her tears— "I still feel so guilty. Being told it wasn't your fault does little to get rid of this sinking feeling."
The security guard. Based on every case Josie has worked alongside the team, it's evident how much she cares about the victims. He can still easily recall every syllable from their last late night phone call. He read Hotch's detailed report regarding the arsonist which spoke of how she aided in keeping the gasoline coated students in the elevator calm. Every action she portrays services the victims when possible. Of course she will feel responsible for not saving the security guard. Being told something isn't your fault or that they did everything they can is not always helpful in making guilt go away.
"I know, I know," she continues, "There was no way to contact an ambulance due to no cell service. I know even with the first aid kit I couldn't fix the damage. I know had I not obeyed Teddy's order I would've died right beside him. I know all that but the look in his eyes as he practically silently begged me not to leave him, to take his last breath alone is something I can never forget."
She laughs because if she doesn't, she will cry. "Maybe you were right, I am stupid."
"No!" Spencer interjects, "No, I was wrong. Please, don't ever think that about yourself again. You did so well during this case. You deescalated the situation when you could and saved that woman Elaine from the trauma of being Dr. Bryant's pawn."
A crack appears on the dam within Josie's heart so sharp and powerful she feels physical pain. Water begins to pour from the fissure resulting in tears welling in her eyes. She lets them fall hoping it will lessen the phantom ache in her chest. Normally she would be petrified showing so much of herself. But Spencer's words, spoken so softly and so genuinely, enveloping around her makes her feel so warm and so safe unlike the shield of loneliness.
She sniffles, "I always use your last name and doctor title because both agents and police officers look at you like they look at me. They see how young you are and withhold respect. You don't deserve that so I'm always careful when addressing or introducing you but in that moment on the train, I wasn't thinking about what's the most respectable way to address you. I just thought my friend had been hurt."
His heart feels as though it's been torn open by the admission, "Trust me, I understand the feeling. It was terrifying for me knowing you were trapped in there. Even when I was inside, the feeling didn't lessen and in fact only increased tenfold the moment he lifted his arm to strike you."
"I'm sorry for calling so late. I'm sorry I couldn't have this conversation in the light of day but I was scared when you started to fret over me. I don't want to be a burden to anyone."
"But you aren't a burden," he states, "By definition, it is something you carry or withstand with much difficulty and that's not what you are to me."
There's that feeling again. She feels like a rollercoaster car poised at the top of a long and steep drop, pausing long enough to cause vertigo and anxiety. For most of her life, her relationships have clear and set definitions. She is a daughter to her parents, a niece to her aunt, and an academy trainee to Erica. She knows what to expect the moment she steps into those roles. Now, she's in unprecedented territory not knowing where she stands with most of the team. Hotch is her training agent and she thought she knew what to expect from that relationship but he was so tender when cleaning her bloodied hands after the train. She expected to be at odds with Penelope after their initial meeting but she confidently stood up to her dearest friend for her. Based on his original comments, she expected to have a strictly professional relationship with Derek until he apologized and extended a helping hand. She expected Elle and her to clash based on all her past experiences with female co-workers when in reality she is nothing but supportive. She didn't even expect to get close to JJ at all given how she's consistently occupied but never too busy to check in with her. Gideon is able to read subtle clues even Josie isn't aware she is giving away. While she expected to hate it and by extension him, she found she can't and instead finds him comforting. When it comes to Spencer, however, every time she forms an expectation, he will subvert it. Even now she's surprised he cares for her so much and despite her efforts to the contrary, she finds she cares for him as well.
She needs to know where she stands with him, "What am I to you?"
"A colleague." He pauses knowing, while true, it doesn't explain the depth of his feelings. "A friend."
Most people might be offended that he starts with colleague but it has the opposite effect on Josie. All her life, she had to fight for her voice to be heard, to be taken seriously. All she ever wanted is to be equal to her fellow coworkers, to have their eyes meet hers and really see her.
She recalls how Spencer has never let his gaze stray upon their meeting. "I want to be your friend."
"Then let me help you," Spencer says, "You don't need to be the strong one all the time. Besides even if you're not strong at the moment, it doesn't mean you're weak."
Josie can feel the tears leaving her eyes but manages to keep from sobbing as she says, "It's hard to change. I've surrounded myself in loneliness because it was easier, safer. No one could hurt you. Even now it's easier to open up like this, cocooned in darkness when I can pretend it didn't happen when the sun rises but I don't want that anymore."
"Then let's meet in the daylight," he says.
"Penelope and I are grabbing coffee and pastries in the morning," she explains, "Join us?"
Knowing this is an olive branch, he doesn't want to turn it down. He wants to mend, strengthen, and grow their friendship but he will loathe going somewhere he isn't wanted.
"I don't want to intrude."
"She always says the more the merrier. Please?"
There it is again, that sweet please melting him, "Okay, Donahue."
With one final farewell, he hangs up the phone. He severely dislikes technology but in that moment, he finds he doesn't mind it.
"I really believe you are the company you keep and you have to surround yourself with people who lift you up because the world knocks you down,"
https://isbndb.com/blog/how-many-books-are-in-the-world/
https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/concussion/symptoms-causes/syc-20355594
