Chapter Two      /      Twisted Chords of Blue and Red

Season One      /      Episode Three Pt 2

     JJ held the press conference the next day after the team arrived early from the hotel, all on high alert with a new sense of determination. Greenaway, or Elle as she told Monica to start calling her, seemingly as everyone else did, spent the night crashed out on Monica's sofa as they went over details of the case with room service for dinner. It was a nice offer the woman gave, to allow Monica to feel comfortable within the team. She explained it was because she was the new girl before she arrived, that feeling of being unwelcome came no matter what and she wanted to make her presence feel accepted. Monica had not smiled that wide in a long time. Elle sat with her in the room as they watched JJ's conference, flicking through even more files Barlowe had handed them upon arrival. However, her work was cut short about forty minutes after the press conference.

     A distressed young woman had called the police about her daughter, explaining how they had seen the conference and then later been delivered a package with blue letters. It was a simple fear, until she voiced that her daughter was holding onto the bomb. Morrison was quick to tell her to keep her daughter's hands in place, and that they had people arriving on the scene already. This little girl, if they did not arrive in time, would become the fourth victim, and more likely the third dead victim. Hotch had rushed to find her, a phone pressed to his ear as he gestured for her to follow him to assist the kid in case of any medical need. Elle patted her shoulder as she got up from her seat in record speed, grabbing the black sunglasses buried in the bag she bought to the station from the hotel.

     Morrison drove the black SUV they used to navigate the streets of Palm Beach County; the lights glued to the top of the windshield so cars would move from in front of them. Hotch was in the passenger seat, holding onto the handle to steady himself as the Sheriff sped around corners, his glasses hanging slightly down on his nose which made him look like he just stepped out of the Men in Black movies. His face was stern, clearly intent on saving the victims. Monica felt worse when she voiced her fears: "Do you think she will make it?"

     Hotch's jaw clenched, "She will."

     The words were blunt, but with a tone that Monica knew was not directed at her but rather the UnSub they were tracking. Monica did not judge his current emotion, especially as she adjusted her position in the back of the car, her FBI Medic jacket scrunching uncomfortably against her back. Perhaps she was just hyperaware of everything that felt wrong... It always felt wrong when a kid was the focus of something so damaging. It had always felt wrong when a kid came in for undiagnosed trauma to their body — everyone working knew what was going on. Luckily for her present, her adrenaline was high when she leapt out of the SUV first after sliding along the leather seats to the closest door on her right, tugging her jacket together so the tags gleamed in the light and alerted people of her status in yellow writing. Two AFT agents swarmed her, and without waiting for her boss to come out of the car himself to give instructions, Monica ordered them:

     "Our main concern is getting the mother out of the fire zone. Reduce the number of victims to get hit by the blasts, understood?" The agents chorused their agreement as they rushed towards the pair standing by their front door. The child was dressed in a pink dress with an orange layer at the bottom, matching her orange socks underneath the white shoes. Her hair was pulled into a low ponytail, allowing Monica to see the tears streaking down her face and her bottom lip trembling. The mother was on her knees to level with her daughter, hands held on top of the child's as she attempted to keep a brave face, though every few seconds it faltered. Monica's chest tightened; she would never get used to that feeling, not even as she glanced back to her boss to distract herself. Hotch and Morrison stood aside her, the phone call still happening while they watched the AFT agents work. They moved the platform upwards to the position where the little girl held the package, so as not to trigger the bombing system.

     Without thinking, Monica moved forward as soon as the package was placed upon the platform, crouching underneath the yellow police tape with ease as she made her way to the pair. An AFT agent stepped aside as she reached them, her face pulling a gentle smile onto her face to hopefully ease the trust. The girl had jumped into her mother's arms, wrapping her legs tightly around her waist as she sobbed into her shoulder, the mother weeping in relief, "Ma'am, I am going to have to ask you to follow me. Right this way please."

     The woman nodded her head as she adjusted her grip on the child and trailed after Monica towards the ambulance, Monica holding the police tape high to let them underneath. The paramedics opened the back of the ambulance for them, positioning the family aside from each other but the little girl buried herself in her mother's body and away from the view of the medical professionals. They turned to look at Monica, a frown on their faces and she gestured for them to give some distance. She lowered herself to the eye level of the crying little girl, who slowly met her gaze as Monica asked, "What's your name?"

     The daughter looked at her mother, who ran a hand over her hair and nodded her head with a gentle smile. She turned back to Monica, sniffling, "My name is Emily."

     "Emily? That's a very pretty name." Emily thanked her quietly, "My name is Monica. I work for the FBI; do you know what that is? You do? It's pretty cool, huh? You know what is even cooler, Emily? You. You were so brave today. You're a hero, did you know that?"

     Emily shook her head, hanging it low as she whispered, "I was scared, it was super heavy."

     "But you didn't stop holding it. You saved your mommy by holding on."

     "I did?" she asked, wiping her nose with the back of her palm. Her voice hiccupped from the tears. The mother aside her wrapped an arm around her shoulders, planting a firm kiss on the side of her head. Monica's smile only softened as she nodded her head to the child's question, "Thank you for saving me."

     "You did that yourself Emily." Monica hummed, and the little girl gave her a weak smile. It was silent for a moment, before Monica removed the jacket she wore and held it out to Emily who took it in her hands with a confused look, "I'm going to have to get it back later, but why don't you wear it while my friends look after you and your mother? Does that sound like a good idea? People can know you're a hero."

     Emily sniffed again before she slowly nodded her head, pulling the jacket over her dress and hugging it close to her. The mother grinned, looking towards Monica and mouthing a thank you.

     They left the crime scene an hour later, and the ride back to the station was silent aside from the phone call which Hotch had received from Gideon. Monica had moved herself to one of the window seats of the SUV, her hand pressed against her cheek and smooshing it to the point it hurt yet she did not mind. Her boss's voice was dull in her mind, the conversation about Adrien Bale enough to keep her zoning in and out of the conversation. By the time they had arrived at the station, however, she could barely remember a single detail of their talk. Instead, she made her way directly to the fresh pot of coffee waiting for the agents. Just before she finished pouring her second sachet of raw sugar into the black coffee resting in the mug, Greenaway called her and Hotch over.

     "I might have something," Elle began as she relaxed onto the desk behind her. She handed a file over to Hotch, who was careful to hold it in a position where both himself and Monica could read it, "Barbara Keller was having trouble insuring some coins she'd bought. The insurance company thought they might be fake."

     Hotch spared a look at Elle while Monica took a loud sip, drowning out Hotch's words, "So, the insurance company's blowing up annoying clients?"

    He received a glare from the agent, "What if someone sold her the fake coins? She's onto him. He shuts her up."

     "Well, the question is are the coins valuable enough to kill over?" Monica grumbled through another sip of coffee, flicking a paper over to read the next one of the files without asking Hotch. He did not complain however, which Monica was thankful for, "It must be something special for a bombing to happen."

     Greenaway gave a proud smile, one to say enough that her hunch might be correct, "she told the insurance company she thought they might be worth $12,000."

     "Shit." Monica drawled out, eyes widening.

     Hotch gave her a look, almost like it was a warning for her language, "Alright. Do you have any idea who sold her the coins?"

     "No." Greenaway said, but instantly straightened her posture under the gaze her boss sent, "But she had an appointment with a coin dealer scheduled, um, I'm guessing to challenge the insurance company's appraisal. A guy named David Walker."

     "So, maybe he can help us figure out who sold her the coins." Elle gave a small nod of her head, "Good job. You go talk to David Walker, keep Choung alert in case you need her assistance."

     Elle prepared herself for the solo mission she was taking, packing her purse in the bathroom while Monica rested against the wall next to the sinks and listened to her talk. The two also exchanged contact information on their phones, meaning that Elle was able to update her instead of their boss like he had asked of them. About ten minutes later, Elle took the black SUV to the Walker's residence, promising to call Monica as soon as she needed to. Another ten minutes later, and Reid called Hotch to explain an update they had gotten regarding Adrien Bale with the assistance of Penelope Garcia. Monica lent against the desk with her arms folded, watching Hotch grab a spare notepad and pen from the desk before scribbling down whatever it was Reid was telling him. Halfway through he paused, sparing a look at Monica who raised her eyebrows. He pulled the phone away from his ear, using a hand to cover the microphone, "Call Elle. She is in danger; Walker is our guy."

     Monica's heartbeat instantly increased at his words as she pulled her cellphone from her back pocket, dialing the number she only added to her contact list not even half an hour again just as Hotch hung up on his call to Reid. The phone rang once. Then again, and Monica could feel her leg bounce, so to distract her nerves, she stood up and began pacing back and forth. Her phone made a noise, and a disgruntled yeah came through from Elle. Monica felt relieved as she rushed out her words, "Elle, it's him. It's Walker, he is our Unsub."

     She heard a curse before Elle yelled at someone to move out of the way, the sound of a car revving its engine filling the air before nothing for a second. Then gun shots, assumedly fired by Elle. Monica was quick to hang up, snapping at the nearest officer to put out an alert to the address that Elle was located before ushering Hotch to a new SUV. He did not question her control, just followed her instructions while snatching the keys from Morrison, giving a brief explanation over his shoulder as the pair rushed out of the front doors of the police station.

     They arrived in time with the paramedics, who Hotch told Monica to talk to about the injuries sustained by Walker's wife. She assisted them in carrying the stretcher back to the ambulance, asking questions about if there was a time limit until she woke up. They did not know; it would depend on whether she has to undergo surgery. Monica studied the injuries on the woman that they had already minimalized further damage to by moving her, the neck brace to the bandages wrapped around her right wrist. Based off those injuries alone, Monica knew that would have a day before the wife would wake up and give a reliable interview.

     She made her way to the pair talking, pressing the bridge of her black sunglasses further up on her nose, "No point in waiting for the wife. She is going to have to deal with surgeries, and she should focus on the fact her husband is a psycho who ran her over with his car more than trying to find him." Monica looked at Elle, frowning slightly, "You should get checked out by the medics, they said you hadn't seen them yet."

     "I didn't get injured; I swear I'm fine." Elle responded matter-of-factly. Monica sighed, not bothering to argue with her and Elle gave a satisfied hum, "Mrs. Walker said her husband spent most of his time the garage."

     "Let's check it out," Hotch grumbled, already starting towards it. Monica spared a look at Elle, who refused to meet her eye as they trailed after their boss who had asked for assistance by a police officer who held a crowbar, as if waiting for them. They stood behind him as he jammed the door open, breaking the hinges and stepping into it while Monica rested her sunglasses on top of her head. The room was laid out in a specific order, the tools hanging on the wall, labels on containers with varied sizes of bolts and screws within, different work benches covered in a safety cloth to keep saw dust away from them. Hotch scoffed, "We got the organized part right."

     Elle was the first to spot the device on the workbench aside them, freshly used due to the dust-free area. What looked like a set of miniature jump starters connected to a small silver coin inside a glass rectangular container. The three bent down to gather a closer look at the coin, Hotch mumbling as he picked up the jump starter, "I've seen this before. It's for electroplating. Look at the date on the coin."

     Elle peered at the back of the coin as Hotch twisted it to reflect well in the lighting so it was readable, "It's half gone."

     "He was using this to build up the metal so he could change the dates on the coin."

     "And increase the value." Monica chimed in, "He must have done the same with Keller's coins."

     "Look over here," the officer demanded from the opposite side of the room, causing them all to straighten their posture and turn to face him as he pointed at a section of the pegboard, "Check this out."

     On the pegboard was a wide variety of newspaper article clippings, the overlying theme for each cutout being Adrien Bale and his infamous bombs. The first one to catch Monica's eyes was the front-page article from the Boston Sentinel, a photo of Agent Jason Gideon looking stressed under the headline, Shrapnel Blast Kills Six. Monica frowned, no wonder Gideon reacted negatively to the name of Bale, he would be carrying an immense amount of guilt with him. He lost six lives he was supposed to protect. The cutout aside Gideon's special appearance had Bale's face plastered on it like a mugshot, the title reading Bale Main Suspect in Bomb Making. It appeared that David Walker to a fancy to Bale, for he had circled his name in black ink and added underneath it in tiny writing, "The Best? It would explain his choice of following Bale's designs. He is Walker's hero."

     "He was working on something," Elle added to Monica's statement, removing the stained cloth from over another workbench. Laid out in distinct groups were all sorts of different items, and just by looking at it, the trio were able to tell it was to build a collection of bombs. Hotch sighed, folding his arms:

     "Make sure Morrison tells your officers that this guy is smart, dangerous and he has absolutely nothing to lose."

     When Monica awoke from a terrible night's sleep, she prayed that day four of the case would be the last. Elle had voiced the same thought the night beforehand. With the UnSub now identified, it would mean the search for him would hopefully be easier said than done. It is what JJ told her as the pair arrived early at the station to discuss the case with the other officers and ATF agents who stayed behind in case there were any more packages delivered, though it seemed unlikely now that they were onto him. JJ briefed them on the known characteristics of the profile that related to David Walker, answering their questions as best as she could for a Communications Liaison. After what seemed to be the tenth question, Barlowe weaved his way through the crowd of his colleagues to the two women, his black hair shagger than last time they saw him, "The rest of your team is here, they are asking for you Agent Choung.

     "Doctor." JJ informed, taking a sip of her coffee, and casting her eyes towards the carpeted floor. Monica gave her a look as Barlowe cursed in Spanish and apologized, readdressing her with the correct title, though she was too focused on catching the smile the blonde was trying to hide with her hot drink.

     "Come on Barlowe," Monica directed, gesturing for the man to follow her as she walked away from JJ. The younger woman looked up as she did so, meeting her eye and Monica stuck her tongue out at her before returning to the conversation with the officer, "So, how was your afternoon?"

     He shrugged his shoulders, giving a brief description of what he did when he went home, which was just cuddling with his dog (who was apparently the sweetest Rottweiler named Bonita) and watching TV. He did not question as she led him to the coffee machine, pouring him a cup and sliding across the bench towards him, as he explained how the TV was quite boring because most channels would show the case he was working on. It made Monica chuckle at the thought, she never realized how annoying it might have been. She poured herself the second cup of coffee for that day, snatching three packets of sugar to tip into it when Barlowe asked about her night. Monica paused for a moment – how could she tell him she was up until 1am discussing the case with Elle because it seemed that the profiler was not going to fall asleep anytime soon. Monica instead shrugged her shoulders as she tore open a sachet, "Alright."

     "You hear me? I said stop! Now!" A trembling voice called out from the main area of the station, alerting Barlowe and Monica. The officer's face had crinkled as they made their way into the desk area leaving behind their cups of coffee, noticing the new arrival dressed in a large dark blue windbreaker-like jacket, and something grey and bulky hanging around his neck. Barlowe tilted his head to the side as his posture relaxed, he knew the man.

     "Worthy? What's going on?"

     "Please. Help me." The man begged, opening his jacket. In unison the pair pulled out their guns from their holsters, training the weapons onto the man who just revealed the bomb strapped to his chest, Barlowe inching that much closer to the FBI agent as if ready to protect her. It was makeshift, pretty simple but strapped tightly to his chest with what appeared to be Duct Tape, twisted chords of blue and red wires surrounding the bomb. Monica could hear the breath hitch in Barlowe's throat to steady his aim, but it would be the hesitation that would kill him if it came down to it. Monica moved carefully with one step behind the other towards her team after giving the Mexican man a look, eyes focused on the bomber as Morrison barked orders to his team. Barlowe was the one to respond to them, as if removing himself from the situation would make it easier, it gave something to distract his mind. When she stopped aside Gideon, the older agent raised one hand towards her raised arms, slowly lowering her aimed gun downwards. She gave him a look, and while his face was expressionless it was focused entirely on the man in front of them. Her gaze shifted to her boss, who nodded his head and in response Monica put her gun back in its holster, rolling her shoulders back to loosen her posture.

     "Put your hands up, and walk slowly back out," Morrison snapped at the bomber, his entire team still aimed at him.

     The man raised his hands to either side of his head, though he made no effort to move outside. His voice trembled as he spoke, and Monica soon realized that this man had no intention of being a bomber. He was simply another victim to David Walker, "I can't. He'll kill me."

     "Who will?" Gideon questioned, his tone softer than Morrison's was and came off less authoritative.

     "I don't know," the hostage whined, eyes casting downwards for a moment of silence as he took a shaking breath inward. He looked up, meeting Gideon's eyes as his bottom lip trembled, "He held a gun to me, put this on me. He said you'll know who he is."

     Gideon took two steps forward, "Well, what does he want?"

     The man instantly listed off what the UnSub had asked for, as if knowing it had the potential to save his life, "A helicopter. A passport." He jerked his head in the direction of outside, "He's watching. Once he gets what he wants, he's got instructions to defuse the bomb."

     Gideon turned back to look at Morrison, the Sheriff slowly lowering his own gun as if now realizing this man was not intentionally putting them in harm's way, "Walker's close by." As Morrison left to instruct his team on what to do, Gideon began moving closer to the hostage, "Hey, we understand, and we're not going to leave you."

     "Please... Take it off."

     "Well, we need to figure out how the bomb's put together first." Gideon explained as the AFT agent, Tracy, moved past the team with a camera. He worked silently as he took different angles of the bomb, only visible now by the hands holding the jacket apart from the hostage himself, "This here is Doctor Choung, she works with me on my team. She's going to talk to you while the rest of the team discusses how to remove the bomb, okay?"

     Monica did not bother to question why Gideon chose her for this case, she assumed it was because of her history in a hospital. She moved forward to Worthy, ignoring the dreadful whimpers escaping from his mouth as Hotch and Elle passed her to head towards the separate room to review the camera photos taken by Tracy. Elle squeezed her forearm as she brushed against her, a gentle smile on her face while Hotch gave a nod of his head. He was trusting the newest member of his team, and Monica felt the weight deepen on her shoulders. However, a smile spread across her face, one that was sympathetic, "It's officer Worthy, right?" You handed me the doughnut yesterday while I was with Barlowe? Okay, good. Thank you for that. Know we are going to do everything we can to remove this bomb from you, understand? I'll be here every inch of the way."

     "You promise?"

     Monica felt her breath hitch, eyebrows knitting together just enough for Gideon to realize before she swallowed whatever nerves she felt, "I promise."

     Gideon twisted his head to his right side after what felt like minutes of conversations between Monica and Worthy, enough to understand basic details of his upbringing and of the demeanor of Walker. However, while she was talking to the hostage, she felt Gideon gently tap against her bicep as if wanting her to hush. She did not even have to twist to look at his face, to read whatever emotions he was trying to mask. Instead, she felt her own smile falter for a second as her heart dropped, adverting her gaze from Worthy for a second to long. He felt the shift as he panickily looked between the two agents, "What is it?!"

     "We need to go outside." Gideon responded slowly.

     Worthy's eyes widened as he shook his head in small movements, afraid to trigger a reaction from the bomb, snapping towards the older man, "No! He said he would kill me if I went back out. He made sure I told you that."

     "Worthy, we are going to have to isolate you instead." Monica voiced just above a whisper, and his eyes flickered to her gaze. Sweat had begun beading his face, especially his forehead, and when met with her gaze, Worthy's bottom lip trembled as tears welled in his eyes. She was quick to speak, her own guilt gripping her heart and tugging despite the warning glare Gideon gave her from the side at her words, "I made a promise to you, officer. I intend to keep it."

     "There's nothing you can do? Is there anything?!" He questioned, a final plea to the Reaper awaiting in the shadows for another soul to collect. His scythe gleaming blue and red against the reflection of the bomb wires. Monica frowned in the silence, and Worthy let out a sob which caused Gideon to leave and speak to Morrison. Worthy lowered his head, causing Monica to look back at him as the officer whispered in a dreadful tone, "I don't want to die."

     "We are not giving up yet, Worthy. Neither are you, understand?" Monica quizzed him, her hand gripping tightly onto his shoulder in the first form of physical contact he has received since walking into the station. Gideon spoke her name firmly from behind and she removed it at once, but the handprint of comfort remained against the cool breeze of the shadow of the Reaper. Worthy nodded his head as the rest of the team came out of their separate room, Elle giving her a thumbs up of safety. She turned back to the hostage, face smiling once again, "I'm going to remove your jacket, it won't trigger any mechanics, it is just going to let the AFT agents have a clearer look."

     Worthy removed his hands from where he held the jacket, holding them out more like a T than anything. Monica carefully removed it from the officer, one hand after the other before bidding a quick goodbye and heading towards Barlowe who stood and watched. He took the windbreaker from her, holding on it for a moment too long before he recognized his job and headed off though Monica stopped him before he could leave the room, "You okay Barlowe?"

     "Fine." Blunt. Deflecting because he was scared.

     "Of course, you are scared. He is someone you know; it will always be scary." She informed him, and Barlowe looked at her as if she just threatened to kill him. His eyes looked sunken, as if all the sadness just dropped into his eyes like a bucket though none threatened to spill in the form of tears. He just looked exhausted, "Find someone to talk to. If that person is me, before I return to Quantico, then it's all right. But you need to talk."

     "Thanks, Doctor." Barlowe gave her a half smile, but it was better than nothing as he left the room.

     By the time she had returned to where she had just been standing with the hostage, they relocated him. Hotch remained and waited for her, asking why she took so long, and Monica replied with "caring for the victim's friends." Hotch did not press further; it was not his place to discuss it and the woman was thankful. The separate room had desks shoved to the side, bomb squad finishing setting up a wired box taped with hazard tape for Worthy. Monica left Hotch as he returned to their team while she bought a chair in for Worthy, finding herself a comfortable spot on the floor against a corner section. A member of the bomb squad forced himself into the small box too, a device in his hand used to scan the bomb's interior. When he had entered, Worthy's body went into shock, and once again going against the scrutiny of Gideon, Monica grabbed hold of his hands and had him repeat breathing exercises with her. In – one, two, three, four, five. Out – one, two, three, four, five. When he was in control of his thoughts, she had him saying the words that came to his mind at the moment despite how insane they might have sounded.

     Ten minutes later she watched her boss and Elle leave the room to come face to face with a SWAT team, discussing a brief plan before Gideon replaced the bomb squad member and sat down across from Monica. She looked at the older man, frowning before she turned to face Worthy, "I'm just going to step out for a moment to talk to my boss. Do you want a glass of water? Gideon?"

     Both men chimed a thank you. She gave a quiet ok as she dragged herself to her feet, rushing out of the room to meet Elle and Hotch before they left. It was almost as if the man could sense her as she turned around the door to find Hotch waiting, a look upon his face of determination. Monica gave them a forced smile, "You need me?"

     "Not as much as our hostage" Elle joked lightly within the scoff, crossing her arms.

     Hotch nodded his head in agreeance, "You two have a connection that is keeping him from doing anything that may tamper with the investigation. You will need to stay here and keep him that way. Gideon has a radio connected to our station; we will communicate our situation as often as possible."

     "Okay, I'll tell you if bomb squad comes up with anything new while you're gone." Monica offered, though it felt more like a question than a plan. Hotch walked away, not acknowledging what the woman just said while Elle gave her a grim smile. It was one to confirm it. Satisfied, Monica returned to hand Worthy his glass of water a few minutes later – a straw used to prevent any drastic movement from him in fear of upsetting the device – before holding a conversation with him. His emotions were getting more intense the lower the timer was getting. Breathing exercises were not helping this time, and instead Monica had to focus on embracing the emotions rather than pushing them away. It was a conversation that lasted ten minutes.

     It was not long before she found Gideon, who stood alongside Morrison a further enough distance away, the hostage could not hear them. She had no prior history of the conversation but arrived in time for Gideon to snatch the radio out of the Sheriff's hands and bellowing: "Get out of there now! Now!"

    Monica tightened the grip on the plastic single-use cup of water so as not to drop it, though it spilled over the edges and onto her hand. She looked at the older man, eyes wide in fear as he stared at the radio in his hands. Everyone was silent, not a single loud noise being heard as they waited. Waited for anything. Gideon began to lower the radio when it made a noise, Hotch's static voice speaking, "We're fine. Everybody made it out... Everybody but Walker. Is the hostage, okay?"

     Gideon clicked the button, holding the radio over towards Monica for her to answer, "He's fine, Walker's death didn't trigger any new settings on the bomb. He should be okay for now. As much as you can be in his situation."

     Their connection, as Hotch had referred to it as, meant that Monica remained with the hostage while Gideon and Hotch went to talk to Adrien Bale in prison – the only chance the FBI had to save this man that remained. Monica, for a change, was quiet the entire time as she sat against the floor in the corner of the makeshift box with her arms hanging over her knees so she could pick at the nails she had painted perfectly only a couple of days ago for her first day in the BAU. Now only three nails remain. Worthy watched her do so, a consistent distraction from the death dooms clock counting down to his death. However, her team did not arrive with the prisoner until a minute remained and by then, Worthy's stress levels had picked up once again. Monica stood outside the box, looking in onto Tracy, working carefully to clear the way so he could cut the correct wires.

     Bale slinked in after Gideon, dressed in a faded orange jumpsuit and his hands chained together as he stopped behind the profiler, a smug expression on his more than neutral face. His eyes scanned the room of where the hostage remained, landing on the woman with the FBI Medic jacket on and arms folded across her chest. Monica met his eyes for a moment, a general frown of disgust on her face but it only made Bale sigh and roll his back, a faint smirk on his face, "Remove the medic. Just the two in the box stay."

     Gideon looked at Hotch for confirmation before calling her in through the radio attached to Tracy's shoulder pad armor. Monica sent a deadly glare to Bale before turning away just as quickly to address Worthy. The hostage's eyes flicked up to meet hers, and she gave the most comforting smile for a man who had 46 seconds to live as she could before she left to join the team in the other room – the two-way mirror their view into the scene.

     "Okay," Tracy began through the speaker, his hands not moving to press any button however as the timer flicked over to flashing red of 41 seconds, "I've isolated the wires connected to the actual device. We've got one shot at this. It's either the blue or the red wire."

     Gideon turned to look at Bale, a distinct lack of emotions in his eyes as he asked, "Which do we cut, Bale? Red or blue?"

     The prisoner spared a look once again at the FBI Medic, though she could see his stare out the corner of her eyes did not shift them from Worthy until he looked at the hostage as well as he sighed, "Red." It was then Monica turned to look at the prisoner, in sync with Hotch who met her gaze. The pair said nothing, though the subtle fear in the crinkle of their eyebrows was enough of a conversation.

     "You know if you're lying and this thing goes boom, you get nothing, right?" Gideon interrogated Bale, casting him a look. Bale rolled his eyes, giving a soft yes that sounded halfhearted, "If we cut the red, it is over? You get to spend your time in a cushy asylum, bushes, trees, visits, nurses, and we get this man out of here alive."

     "I don't see how I could be any clearer." Bale grumbled; a look of annoyance painted on his face.

     "Gideon, we have seventeen seconds," Monica warned, rolling her shoulders back to look up at the agent. Gideon's stare did not move from Bale.

     "Red wire, right?"

     "Yes." Bale snapped, looking at Worthy with such boredom that Monica shifted her gaze back towards the hostage. Everyone was quiet, Monica imputing that there were ten seconds left. There was a second of silence, before Gideon raised the radio to his mouth and said:

     "Cut the blue."

     Monica's mouth dropped alongside her heart, the blood rushing to her feet as everyone's head snapped in the direction of Gideon. What the actual fuck?! Whatever stress that Monica was feeling beforehand doubled now as she turned to look at Worthy, though it took every effort to do so. Tracy moved the pair of scissors he held in his hands to the blue wire, his gloved hands trembling as he did so. The timer turned 03, he snipped the wire. Monica held her breath, a hand raised to cover her mouth as she nibbled on the skin around her thumb, a sick feeling rising in the back of her throat. She braced herself, yet the timer did not change numbers even after 5 seconds had passed. She exhaled deeply, slouching over as she dropped one hand to her knee and the other to feel her heart racing against her chest.

     Hotch did not hesitate to grab Bale, dragging him out of the room with such force that Monica assumed his grip would leave bruises. Monica took a second before following him into the room where Worthy rested, the bomb being removed off his body. He looked up to Monica, his voice trembling, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

     "I told you we didn't give up."

Kai's Note !

I. another big update for this book, the chapter sitting at 6.3k (ignore the errors throughout it ill fix them later) but its the final part of this episode aka moni's first mission! it was a lot harder to write, especially the ending since i wanted to show an idea at what her role as the EMT of the team would include as well as what she would be like on field. she is very much a negotiator (i swear she is a variant of obi-wan kenobi the more i think of it), and this was only a hint of her connection with the victims.

II. also... felix barlowe was not supposed to be this in the episode bc he was just someone i created for the moment between JJ n moni in chapter one but i got emotionally attached and now he is staying :/

III. AND YES ITS A CRIME MORGAN N GARCIA WERE NOT IN THESE TWO CHAPTERS BUT I SWEAR THEY ARE IMPORTANT. like morgan n moni are such a brotp, and them plus elle form one of my favourite trios

IV. hope you enjoyed the chapter <33