#i love how all of Cleo's snakes look like their interested in the cards

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Loyalty || Drabble

Listen I’ve been trying to write this fucking thing for like a month I’m just done with it now on every conceivable level of the term. Shout out to this songtrack for finally helping me finish this thing Summary: Things get a little more feels-y when Reid and Cleo have to subdue an unsub on Cleo’s hometurf of Connecticut.

Warnings: Gun violence, bruising mention, discussions about the aftermath of losing a love one, death

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”

― Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

 “Are these movies ever going to explain why these people only seem interested in murder on the night of the purge?”

Rolling her eyes at another scene in the movie, Cleo popped some popcorn into her mouth and settled back into the couch. She turned to look at Reid, who seemed equally confused at the movie. Truth be told; she was happy that she convinced him to have a movie night with her, even if most of the night was spend critiquing the movies for their decisions.

“I find it hard to believe that having a Purge somehow ensures that people reign themselves in for the rest of the year. They don’t take spree killers or escalation into mind; that just doesn’t go away because these people get a wild card once a year.”

“I’d go for the “get out of jail free” card but I suppose you play poker more than you do monopoly.”

Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle at that, shaking his head as he turned back to the movie. It felt good to be out of his own home but not necessarily dragged away to some public location; he was grateful Cleo seemed to understand that better than anyone else. Probably because she was just as introverted as him.

“I mean really; no theft, no looting, no fraud… it’s like the entire white collar division of the FBI is obsolete in this world. Nor are these murderers as diverse as they are in our job so I guess in this world the BAU could do their job with like, two people at most?”

“Considering crime is at an all-time low throughout the rest of the year these people don’t even really have a need for a lot of first aid responders. Just a couple for accidental injuries and the like.”

They commented on a few other scenes, joking and laughing among themselves before the movie ended and Cleo went to pop in another movie in the dvd player. She sat back down on the couch as Reid was staring at a wall, thinking to himself.

How much time?

Recalling the conversations he had had with both Hotch and Rossi, Spencer let out a sigh. Neither of them had really given him a satisfying answer, and he turned to look at Cleo who was messing with some settings of both the dvd and the tv.

Was it weird that she was really the only one he had let in throughout the whole ordeal? Logically he would’ve turned to JJ or Morgan, but nothing about the situation was logical. It was all raw emotion; and he had never been good at dealing with that. Cleo on the other hand had had her fair share of it. Was that why she seemed to be the exception to the rule?

“Cleo? When did the death of your uncle stop hurting?”

Silence brewed between them as Cleo thought about how she could best explain the situation, moving back to the couch as she did. Death and grief would always be a difficult subject, and Cleo more often than not didn’t like to bring up her uncle’s death. But then again, Spencer was looking for her advice, wasn’t he?

“It didn’t. Memories like these don’t just stop hurting, Spencer. I wish I could give you some definitive timeline of when things faded and became more… tolerable, I guess, but it never really goes away. I don’t really know when it became more bearable to be without him; I still miss my uncle. His death definitely left its scars, but it’s the missing that hurts the most. It’s almost like a bad, permanent bruise. Something hurt you enough to leave a mark; it doesn’t hurt all of the time, but then you move wrong, press or brush against it and it hurts again.” “So losing Maeve is always going to hurt?”

“I’m afraid so. To some degree.”

They sat there silently, with Spencer looking back at the wall and Cleo studying her nails; the movie long forgotten and unimportant as it only functioned as background noise. Yet in this silence they almost seemed to agree on something, something unspoken but very real. Being in law enforcement, FBI no less… Both of them had seen enough to fill horror movies and educational books. Each and every one they considered colleagues could, too.

“I…. I don’t know about you, but it’s part of the reason I wanted to be in law enforcement. Not with the idea to take away pain, we… we generally arrive too late for that. The pain has already been inflicted when we get called in,” Cleo said softly, breaking the silence.

“But… I always wanted to have that pain not be worthless, or unsolved. Justice doesn’t bring people back, and I don’t know how much it truly helps those who have lost someone in such violence. To me, Justice is about having that pain acknowledged. It’s having other people look in and say; this shouldn’t have happened, but it did, so we’re punishing the one responsible.

It doesn’t.. fix anything. When a mirror breaks, you can put the pieces back together and forever be reminded of the cracks, or replace it. Things break, and they can be replaced. People can’t be replaced, so the only option is-“

“To be reminded of the cracks.”

Spencer turned to Cleo, giving her a careful and unconvincing smile as he did. She returned it, much in the same gesture, before they both turned to the tv screen.  

It was then that Cleo’s phone signaled that she had a text, not long after that Spencer’s phone announced the same. They both reached over the couch to grab it, quickly coming to the same conclusion.

“New case.” “Yup. Guess we have to catch people who would like the Purge to be an actual thing.”

Sometime later they arrived to the FBI building, calmly taking their place in the bulletin room where Garcia immediately explained what was going on.

Apparently six people had been found dead in Middletown, Connecticut; half of them gunned down while the other half was beaten to death. The victims were found in couples together spread throughout the city, and Garcia definitely didn’t want to look at the pictures as she made eye contact with Cleo. “Say, aren’t you from there?” “No, I’m not. I’m from Meriden,” Cleo said casually, frowning at the casefile on her iPad as she did. Rossi saw a perfect opportunity in this and took it;

“Well then, let’s bring the Nutmegger back to her natural habitat.” “Don’t make me fight you with an I heart NY shirt, because I will.”

 Once again they were reminded that there was no such thing as an easy case. Instead, Reid and Dewitt found themselves in a Mexican standoff with the unsub later in the investigation. Both of them had their gun pointed to this man, both trying to figure out a way to defuse the situation they had on their hand as the unsub was making wild allegations at the both of them.

“And how dare you betray your state and run off to Virginia, huh, miss perfect?!” the unsub roared at Cleo, only having gotten more agitated when he found out she would be on the case as well. They knew each other, vaguely, after having been to the same school but in different grades.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t get the memo where I should have been at your feet for doing the bare minimum,” Cleo casually remarked, moving closer to somehow try and distract the unsub from Reid; which he seemed to notice.

“Why the Las Vegas boy? What does he have that I don’t, aside from a gambling addiction?! I’m sick of girls like you protecting guys like him-“ “And I’m sick of guys like you shooting girls like me in the chest because our taste dares to be different from “explosive alpha male on steroids”!” Cleo barked back, getting fed up with the situation.

“I don’t owe you my life, my career, and I’m not going to back away from someone you decided to google and make the most basic assumptions on just because you want me to pick a man from my home state; Oh but not just any man, you, right? My preferences be damned on that!”

“Listen, this has to end now,” Reid chimed in, knowing fully well that Cleo was getting irritated.

“We’ve got the building surrounded, there is no way you can go. If you come with us quietly, however, the world will know what a hero you are. How undefeated you are, isn’t that what you want?”

Tension hung in the air as the unsub looked from one FBI agent to the other, before finally settling on Reid.

“Not from the likes of you, desert snake.”

Two shots rang out through the sky, alerting the troops outside to come rushing the door with Morgan in the lead; especially after Reid called for medical back up. He found them both sitting on the floor, the dead body of the unsub some feet away from the both of them.

He could only conclude that Reid had shot the unsub after Cleo blocked the path between the two and took a hit from the unsub’s gun into the protective padding of the bullet proof vest.

 Cleo sighed softly, overlooking the familiar landscape of her home state as she quietly sipped her tea, wincing a little as the bruise she gained from the whole thing chafed. So much for “bullet proof” vests, it much more felt like she’d taken the hit of a baseball bat to her ribcage.

She could hear someone approach, the door to the police station shutting and footsteps coming closer.

“You know, aside from getting shot, I don’t really understand why you didn’t want to come back here.” Spencer’s voice was as soft and gentle as it usually was, while he took a place beside his friend as he drank some of his coffee.

“The people are nice, the view is amazing…”

“I know,” Cleo agreed softly, her gaze seemingly a million miles away over the plains of the city.

“But I had to go. I wanted to be an FBI agent, and my uncle moved mountains to make that happen. After losing him, I couldn’t find the comfort I once did in my home state.”

She took another sip of her tea before pushing her hair behind her ear, needing a moment to gather her thoughts.

“I found family within the BAU, Reid. Connecticut is beautiful in its own right, and I’ll never deny the roots of my life that lay here. But I lost my mother when I was very young, I’ve never known my father, and when my uncle died…. There’s nothing left for me here, family wise.”

Spencer just looked on as Cleo finished her drink, momentarily debating whether or not he should give her physical comfort, but he decided against it as she tossed the empty, plastic cup into a nearby trashcan.

“I’ve been told Connecticut is beautiful in fall.” “It is.” “Will you show it to me, someday? I’ll give you Vegas in spring in return.”

She looked at him, a smile on her lips as she nodded in quiet agreement. In a second it dawned upon her; this being the perfect time and moment. The perfect opportunity. “Spencer… I-“ she stopped herself as she saw JJ approaching, quickly turning her gaze away as she fiddled with her hair.

“Just wanted to let you two know that we’re leaving in thirty minutes,” JJ announced, seemingly unaware to anything she may have interrupted as she was honestly just send to remind everybody of the time they had left to pack everything up and go home. She left her coworkers when they both nodded in understanding, waiting for her to go back inside.

“What did you want to say before we were interrupted?” “…. I look forward to having you as a tour guide through Vegas,” Cleo decided, internally kicking herself for not fessing up right there and then.

“Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are our own fears.”

― Rudyard Kipling, The Collected Works

#drabble #adjustment required (Cleo Dewitt) #fandom: criminal minds