Are You Profiling Me?

-27-

You finally all make it back to Quantico. Hotch had to drive back with Morgan, you were going to go with but you knew they needed to talk. Things were tense between them. A few weeks went by and you only had a few cases. Hotch took some time to be with Jack. He needed it especially with his ear injury. You came back to work pretty quickly. Derek had been staying with you for a while. You hadn't had nightmares in a while but the brush with death for the both of you made you want to be close. You knew the nightmares would come back and that Liam was still out there but you decided you needed to share it with the team.

"You okay in here?" he asked, his voice low but full of concern.

You forced a smile, though it didn't reach your eyes. "Yeah."

But the lie was thin, and Derek saw right through it. The tension in the room stretched, thick and palpable, as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He stood for a moment, watching you. Waiting.

He didn't have to say anything for you to know he was worried. Derek knew you better than anyone, and you knew him just as well. You didn't need words to understand that something was off. You'd been through enough together to recognize when silence wasn't just silence—it was a warning.

He sat across from you, his gaze steady, waiting for you to speak.

For a long time, you didn't. You stared at your laptop screen, at the blank page that mocked you, as if it was asking you what you were really afraid of. And you couldn't answer. Not yet.

Finally, the silence between you became too heavy to bear.

"I think I need to tell them," you said quietly, without looking up.

Derek's brow furrowed slightly, and the weight of your words hung in the air between you. He knew exactly what you meant, but he didn't rush to fill the space with questions. He knew better than to interrupt when you were still trying to find the right words.

"Tell them what?" he asked, his voice calm but his eyes sharp.

You hesitated, the words sitting on the tip of your tongue, heavy and uncertain. It felt like you were standing on the edge of something, about to let it all tumble out. The mission. The deaths. The danger. The fear that had been eating at you for weeks, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

Finally, you let out a breath, the weight in your chest making your voice sound strained.

"I think they need to know about Syria. About Liam Baker. About the mission I led there."

Derek leaned forward, his face tightening, his eyes narrowing. He was processing the gravity of your words, the unspoken truth that was too dangerous to ignore any longer.

You kept going, knowing there was no turning back now.

"Colonel Winters gave me approval to disclose the details of the mission as part of a formal investigation," you said, your voice low, almost tight with the weight of the truth. "There've been deaths, Derek. Members of my old regiment... they're being killed, one by one."

Derek's expression shifted instantly. His hands clenched, and for the briefest moment, you saw the flash of concern cross his face. The kind of concern that came from knowing how fragile things could be. He leaned back, his arms crossing over his chest as he processed what you'd said.

"How many?" he asked quietly, his voice tight with control.

You met his gaze, your throat tightening. "Five. Different locations. Different causes. But I know they're connected. I know it's not random. And I can't help but think..."

Derek went still. He didn't say anything, but the way his jaw clenched told you everything you needed to know. He was already running through the possibilities in his head, trying to piece together the details that you still couldn't fully explain.

"Danielle," he said after a beat, his voice low and serious. "You really think they're targeting you?"

You exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the admission. The truth that had been pressing on your chest, tightening your throat, was finally out in the open.

"I think they're coming for anyone who knows too much about what happened in Syria," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "I led that mission. I know the details no one else does. I know how deep this goes. And I can't let them—let us—be in the dark. It's not just about me anymore, Derek. It's about everyone on this team."

Derek stared at you for a long moment. You knew what he was thinking: that this was a lot to ask, that the team had no reason to be involved in something this dangerous. But you'd never been one to keep secrets, and the thought of leaving them in the dark, of not telling them what you knew, felt unbearable.

"I can't live with that," you added, your voice thick with emotion. "I know what it's like to be left in the dark. To not know. It's... it's painful."

Derek shifted in his chair, his expression softening. He didn't need to say the words to know you were right. He had been there, too. And he knew better than anyone the toll it took to keep secrets like this.

"You know they're going to have questions," he said finally. "They're going to want to know why you didn't tell them sooner."

You nodded. You had already prepared yourself for the fallout. You knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"I know," you said quietly. "I know how this is going to look. But I can't keep carrying this on my own, Derek. Not when it's bigger than just me. And not when they could be in danger, too."

Derek's gaze softened as he studied you, his eyes filled with the understanding you so desperately needed. He didn't say anything at first. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice steady but low.

"If you think it's the right thing to do," he said, "if you really believe they need to know... then you should tell them. But you've gotta be prepared. You can't just drop a bomb like this without a plan."

You nodded again, this time feeling the weight of his words. He was right. You'd need a plan. You'd need to prepare everyone for the fallout. But it would be worth it. They needed to know.

"I've already talked to Colonel Winters," you said. "He's given me the go-ahead to disclose the details. This is part of a formal investigation, Derek. And I just—" you paused, looking down at your hands, your voice breaking slightly. "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt because I didn't speak up."

Derek's face softened, and he leaned forward, reaching out for your hand. His grip was firm, grounding. "We'll figure it out together," he said quietly. "We always do."