Criminal Minds One-Shots

There is Light in the Darkness

The BAU team was in the middle of a particularly grueling case. A series of brutal killings in a small town had left the team feeling weighed down, their usual optimism worn thin by the graphic details. As usual, they were holed up in the bullpen, strategizing their next move.

Kelsey Monroe sat perched on her chair, a lighthearted smile dancing on her face. She hummed a tune under her breath, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air. Her bubbly personality and infectious laughter were a stark contrast to the grim mood of the others. Her carefree attitude often earned her the nickname "De-stresser" from the team—an ironic moniker that acknowledged her strange ability to maintain optimism, no matter the horrors they encountered.

"Monroe, can you stop humming?" Derek Morgan joked, his voice a little harsher than usual. "We're trying to concentrate here."

Kelsey flashed him her signature bright grin, unbothered by his slight irritation. "What? It's a happy tune. You should try it sometime."

Aaron Hotchner gave a subtle, knowing smile from his seat at the table. He'd been with Kelsey long enough to understand her quirks, even if he couldn’t fully grasp how she maintained such an upbeat demeanor in the face of the most depraved crimes. She was always so positive, always laughing, always with a smile, even when the world around them was falling apart.

But the others didn't know the truth—the part of Kelsey's life that she had buried so deep, only a few trusted individuals knew about it.

In the quiet of the BAU office, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau exchanged a glance with Emily Prentiss. The case was affecting them deeply, and they couldn’t help but wonder how Kelsey was handling it all. She never seemed phased by anything. But, as usual, she had a knack for making the rest of them laugh when things felt impossible.

"I can't imagine how she does it," JJ murmured, watching Kelsey absentmindedly doodle on a notepad, completely unaware of the tension in the room.

"Maybe she's just that strong," Emily replied softly.

What they didn’t know was that Kelsey wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared. Beneath her sunny exterior was a mind and heart battling with something much darker—something that had been there for as long as she could remember. Complex PTSD. The scars of her childhood trauma had left deep imprints on her psyche, creating a disassociation from the harsh realities she faced daily.

Kelsey had learned to cope with her pain by shutting off her ability to feel the appropriate emotions to the chaos around her. Her brain's way of protecting her from reliving the trauma was to offer her a form of denial—she simply couldn’t react negatively. Instead, she accepted everything, even the most terrible crimes, with a forced happiness that never quite reached her eyes. She wasn’t avoiding the pain. She simply couldn’t process it.

This strange coping mechanism had led her to appear almost "too happy" to the others, like she was always cheerful, always smiling, even when there was nothing to smile about.

What no one in the BAU knew was that Kelsey’s smile was often a mask—a shield. Her past had made her unable to face suffering head-on, so she had learned to accept it with a weird, almost surreal gratitude. Pain, betrayal, loss—she absorbed it all with an unnerving calm, as if she had no other choice but to smile through it.

Later, during a meeting with Section Chief Strauss…

Strauss sat behind her desk, her sharp eyes watching Kelsey carefully as she spoke with the team. She knew the truth, and she wasn’t sure whether she should feel concerned or relieved. Kelsey’s resilience was impressive, but it was also dangerously fragile.

Strauss had been briefed on Kelsey’s diagnosis, though the rest of the team had no idea. It had been her decision to keep Kelsey on the team, though part of her felt the weight of that responsibility. She had read the reports and observed Kelsey’s behavior long enough to know the reality of the situation—Kelsey’s bubbly attitude was a façade. But what worried Strauss more was what could happen if Kelsey ever hit a breaking point. Could someone so disconnected from negative emotions still function when pushed too far?

"She’s doing well," Strauss said to Hotchner, her tone measured. "But you need to keep an eye on her. Her coping mechanism is... unorthodox."

Hotchner nodded, his expression serious. He had always found something comforting in Kelsey’s smile, but now, knowing the truth, it made him uneasy.

"I understand," Hotchner said quietly. "She’s strong, but I worry about what happens when she’s not."

The case dragged on for days, the pressure mounting as the team found themselves deeper in the twisted mind of the killer. As the bodies piled up, Kelsey’s mood remained unchanged. She was the first to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, her laughter filling the room even when the case seemed at its bleakest.

"Why is it that serial killers always have the best hiding spots?" she asked, grinning as she scrolled through a new set of crime scene photos.

Morgan rolled his eyes. "You're sick, you know that?"

Kelsey giggled. "Nope! I’m just trying to keep things light. You guys are so intense, you need a little sunshine!"

But deep down, Kelsey was quietly struggling. At night, when she lay alone in her hotel room, the smile would fade. She would stare at the ceiling, feeling an emptiness she couldn’t explain. The horrors of the cases, the darkness of the world, seemed to weigh on her more than anyone knew. But instead of feeling the pain or sadness or even fear, she would only feel... nothing. No tears, no anger—just a strange numbness that left her smiling without knowing why.

A breakthrough in the case…

Finally, after a long, exhausting week, the team cracked the case. The killer was arrested, the bodies were recovered, and the town could finally breathe again.

The BAU team celebrated the closure, but Kelsey was quiet. She smiled, of course, but her eyes were distant, lost in thought. Hotchner, sensing something was off, approached her after the celebration ended.

"Kelsey," he said softly. "You alright?"

Kelsey turned to him, her smile more forced than usual. "Yeah, Hotch. I’m fine."

But her voice was hollow. He could tell something wasn’t right.

"You don’t have to be happy all the time," he said gently, searching her face for any hint of the truth.

Kelsey blinked, the wall between them briefly shattering. For a split second, she looked vulnerable—like a child lost in the world. But then the moment passed, and she was back to her usual self.

"I know, Hotch. But sometimes... it’s just easier to smile than to face it."

He didn’t press her further. Instead, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, Kelsey. We're here."

Kelsey smiled, genuinely this time, but it was a smile that carried the weight of years of hidden pain. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And for now, that was enough.

Epilogue:

The team continued to work with Kelsey, aware of her quirks but never fully understanding the depth of her struggle. They respected her dedication and her ability to keep going, no matter what. But sometimes, when the cases grew particularly dark, Hotch would catch Kelsey’s eyes lingering just a little longer on the photos of the victims, and he would wonder if she was smiling not because she had no pain, but because she had learned to live with it.

And, just maybe, that was the most heroic thing she could do.