Redemption | Criminal Minds

Chapter 2

I THROW MY HEAD BACK and sigh, staring up at the numerous cracks on the ceiling.

The interrogation room is empty aside from me, so my sigh bounces off the walls and echos back to me.

The door flies open, revealing a tired looking Agent Rossi. It seems he's aged since we last crossed paths, but ten years will do that to you.

"It's been a while, hasn't it Redemption?" He chuckles, placing his mug of coffee and files onto the table before sitting down.

"You're still using that name?" I scoff, "I thought you told me you were going to figure out my name if it was the last thing you did ten years ago?"

"From what I can find, it seems you've been a ghost ever since you were born," He chuckles wryly.

"Come on Rossi, it isn't that hard; I've practically told you it a dozen times," I reply, leaning back in my seat.

Agent Rossi starts to cough rather loudly and I narrow my eyes at the odd show.

As if on cue, the man who pinned me down, Agent Morgan, strolls into the the room.

"Hey, Rossi; Hotch needs you to look over some of the files on the USB," Agent Morgan booms, his voice filling the small space.

Rossi rises from his seat and gives me a once over, most likely noticing how different I look.

What can I say? Red hair causes a huge difference in your appearance.

"See you later Rossi, hope you find what you're looking for!" I call after him as he leaves the room.

"Don't worry; I already have it," He grins, closing the door with a resounding thud.

My heart jumps a bit at his words, but I chalk his big talk up to an elaborate bluff and settle back down.

"So, Redemption; that's what you call yourself?" Agent Morgan questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't worry sweetcheeks; you can call me whatever you want," I wink, flashing him a grin.

"How about murderer; or better yet traitor?" He questions, his tone turning serious.

"What, me; a murderer?" I feign shock, my eyes widening in alarm.

"And don't forget traitor," He mutters under his breath.

From any other person, the insult itself wouldn't rile me up, but for some reason; I feel the need to defend my actions to a man I barely even know.

"I am no traitor Agent Morgan; go ahead and ask me how many global terroristic incidents I've halted in their tracks; go ahead, I'll wait," I hiss defensively.

Agent Morgan remains silent and I feel the need to say more, to explain my actions. For a moment, I almost feel human.

"No?" I grin, "I've stopped 15 in a time span of 6 months and you have the audacity to call ME a traitor?"

"Name one and I'll believe you," He scoffs, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

The man's built like a linebacker and at that thought, the bruises on my wrists seem a bit more painful.

"Washington, DC; a truck loaded with explosives was able to get past a security checkpoint at the Capitol; the rest I know is that somehow, the driver of that truck mysteriously disappeared," I reply, with air quotes on mysteriously.

"We would have been notified," Agent Morgan tries to argue.

"No, you really think the Pentagon would like to admit that they were complete airheads and let a few ton of explosives slip into the U.S Capitol parking lot?" I scoff.

"Ok, I'll give you that," He chuckles, pushing himself off the wall he's leaning against and plopping down in the seat across from me.

"Now we're getting somewhere; how about we get rid of these; they are awfully uncomfortable," I grin, holding up my wrists to show him the handcuffs digging into my wrists.

He leans across the table wordlessly, and yanks a key from his pocket.

He is close enough for me to feel his breath on my face and I inwardly weigh the odds of getting out of here if I take him hostage, but judging from the bruises I still have from earlier; I decide against that.

When the cuffs fall away from my wrists, I grab one of my wrists and rub the slight bruise starting to appear around my wrist.

"Thanks," I smile, settling back into my chair to wait for more, inevitable question.

I'm not stupid; I know that they are profiling me so I've decided to give them a show. For me, manipulation seems to be second nature.

Suddenly, the door is thrown open and a serious looking man enters the room, motioning with his head for Agent Morgan to leave.

"Hello, I'm SSA Hotchner," He greets without a hint of emotion in his voice.

"Well hello there SSA Hotchner," I grin, eyeing the man curiously.

"I just got off the phone with some friends down at the CIA and apparently, you've been causing them some trouble," He starts.

"The only trouble I've been causing them is that I just won't die and the dumbasses want to wipe every trace of me off their spotless records so the fact that they hired me can't be held against them," I grumble.

"That's what I thought; that's why I'm offering you a deal," He finishes.

"I don't take deals," I scoff haughtily.

"Twenty five years to life and if the CIA is that desperate to rid themselves of you, you may get a death sentence; or you can come work with us here at the BAU and avoid a sentence altogether," He offers.

"Well, looks like we're teammates then SSA Hotchner," I chuckle.

"Alright; you will start a training course today with the rest of the team, but since you need to earn our trust, you will be staying with one of the agents outside for your temporary residence," He explains.

"And who will I be staying with?" I question.

"Agent Derek Morgan; I've heard that you two have became well acquainted," He chuckles.

A/N:
I am currently writing this on the top of a mountain so this will be the last update I write on Wattpad until tomorrow or possibly tonight.
UPDATE: Apparently this didn't publish because cell service on top of a mountain sucks so I just posted this. 👌
-Sierra B.