FRATERNIZATION | DEREK MORGAN (ON HOLD)

EIGHTEEN

Hotch had managed to stop Clara, thankfully no one else got hurt in the process, now the group were back on the plane heading home.

"You know, I figured it out." Elle spoke up as she carried her bags to her seat. "The stutter."

Theresa looked up at Elle curious as to what reasoning she had come up with. After all, there isn't any reason as to why someone stutters. There's no proof that anyone stutters for one certain thing.

"You know why the Footpath killer stuttered?" Gideon questioned, glancing towards Theresa, wondering what the girl thought.

"When you and Hotch were talking earlier, that's when I got it." Elle nodded proudly. "He said he was just trying to stall Clara. Well, that's it, isn't it? The Footpath killer, you were just trying to stall him."

The brunette glanced at Elle, she leant back in her chair and listened carefully. Her hands had began to fiddle with the ends of her sweater, watching as Gideon's brows knitted closer together.

"You said, 'I know why you stutter', because you were buying time. You were stalling. But you don't really know why he stuttered."

"I don't?" Gideon asked almost cockily, trying to fool Elle, but it didn't seem to be working.

"I looked it up. No one does." Elle smiled, showing off her dimples.

"Tessa." Gideon nodded towards the girl, wanting to hear her take on the situation.

Theresa leant forward slightly, so that the duo could hear her more clearly. She allowed a smile to form on her face as her eyes flickered between the both.

"There are some theories about a neurological basis, but at the end of the day, they're just theories. Sometimes stuttered caused by genetics, environmental, intellectual disabilities. But there's no set reason." Theresa concluded.

"What really happened in the connivence store?" Elle asked curiously, wondering how on earth Gideon managed to survive.

The girl noticed the way that Gideon's body language shifted. Theresa knew what it was like to go through something and not want to talk about it. So she didn't push him, unlike the others.

"I'll tell you what I do know about a stutter. I know how to provoke one." With that, Gideon sat down and pulled out a chest board to play a game with Reid, much like he usually did on the flights.

Derek sat down beside the pretty brunette, placing his hand awfully close to hers and closing his eyes. He was exhausted, after all he was running on a mere few hours sleep.

Theresa noticed the way that Derek fell asleep almost instantly, she wondered how he could do it. How he could sleep so peacefully and not be plagued by nightmares about everything they have seen.

Reid smiled at Theresa, making her walk up to him and watch as he played the game of chest with Gideon. She leant down and rested her arms on the back of his seat, leaning forward and placing a kiss on the top of his head.

She had missed him over the past few years, since she moved to Montanta. Now, she was more than thankful to be back in his life and he in hers. She wanted to rekindle their friendship and for things to go back the way that they were.

"You recon I can win this game, T?" Reid questioned, tilting his head back to look at the girl.

Theresa looked down at the chest board and back up to Gideon. He was probably the best chest player that she knew. She hadn't seen anyone beat him yet. Reluctantly, she sucked in a deep breath and said,

"If you keep going the way you're going, there's a chance one day." She flashed the boy a smile to hide the fact that what she said was basically a back handed compliment.

She jumped once she saw Derek shoot up from his seat, she furrowed her brows at the man's reaction. The only thing that appeared to sooth him was when he looked into her eyes.

Derek couldn't explain the feeling he got once he looked into Theresa's eyes. The nightmares that he had when he first started at the BAU were coming back. His first case in Montana, a 18 year old girl taken for 7 days. He didn't know if she was dead or alive. All he could remember was her eyes.

Although now, they seemed to be muddled up with Theresa's.

Faulkner once said, "Don't bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors, try to be better than yourself."