Bruised Knuckles and Empty Lies

Chapter 15

Morgan's POV

I shut the car door and handed Alex her bag as soon as she settled into the passenger's seat. Starting up the car, I heard the radio had flipped to some news station. Nothing interesting was being said, so I switched the station to listen to some music. I glanced over at Alex as I pulled the car into the street and began driving. She was quiet and looked like she hadn't gotten any sleep in a week. That worried me more than I can say. This little girl was hurting, hurting bad, and I couldn't do a thing about it. Or maybe I could. I just had to think of how.

My ringtone broke the silence between us.

"Morgan," I answered, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Morgan, I need you down here now," Hotch spoke on the other line.

"Another case?"

"Something like that. Where are you?"

I glanced over at Alex before answering. She was staring out the window, but her ears were perked up, so I knew she was listening.

"Driving Alex home."

"Good. Bring her in," Hotch simply said.

"What?" Alex must've recognized the concern in my voice because her head instantly turned, and she locked eyes with me. "Hotch, what's going on?"

"Get here ASAP." Hotch hung up, leaving a heavy silence in the car.

"Derek?" Alex said cautiously. I turned on my blinker before making a u-turn, going back in the direction of the BAU. "No, my house is-"

"We're not going home."

"But my foster parents-"

"I know, sweetheart, once we get whatever this is sorted out, I'll get you home. Promise." I kept my eyes focused on the road ahead of me.

"This better be quick," Alex mumbled, crossing her arms and sinking further into her seat. I caught my grip holding on a little too hard to the steering wheel. Why did he need Alex? And why is it so urgent? I tried to focus on my surroundings to keep out any thoughts that wandered in. Every worst-case scenario played through my head at once.

"You okay?" Alex's voice rang out.

"I'm fine, babygirl, don't worry about me."

"Great, so I should be worried." Although I couldn't see her, I knew she was rolling her eyes. I wrestled with myself for a few minutes, trying to figure out if I should tell her that Hotch wanted to talk to her, not me. It might just freak her out more, but she deserved to know. She had a right to know.

"Listen, Alex," I started off slowly. Alex's eyes grew slightly wider, and all of her attention was focused on me. I knew she knew something was up. "Hotch, my boss, wants to talk to you for a minute."

"Morgan, what the hell is going on?" Alex's voice began to rise, and she sat up straighter in her seat.

"I don't know." I shook my head, frustrated that neither of us knew what was going on. Unless...no, she couldn't have done anything. She's a good kid. "Sweetheart," I sighed, "I know... Is there anything you need to tell me?" Alex's eyebrows scrunched together for half a second before anger flooded her eyes.

"What the fuck? Do you seriously think I did something!?"

"Hey, watch your language," I said stricter than I intended. She scoffed.

"Yeah, thanks a lot for clearing that up. You know, I'm not some juvenile delinquent. I don't care what kind of savior complex you get from turning me into a 'functioning member of society' or whatever you're trying to do, but I'm over it!" Alex crossed her arms and pulled one leg up onto the seat, trying to look tough. "Why the fuck do you even care anyways? You don't know shit about me," Alex mumbled, letting her head rest on against the seat.

"Do you seriously think I know that little about you? Huh? Do I have to profile your ass to prove that your tough-guy front isn't fooling me?" Alex met my eyes, staring me down. I pulled over, putting the car in park before returning the stare. "You've probably been in and out of foster care until it finally stuck. I'm getting one or both of your parents weren't around, probably drugs, leaving you with attachment issues, not to mention your issues with authority figures. You're using me as a stand-in for your biological father, craving your father's attention but never getting it. You've had one good foster family, two if you're lucky, but you never bonded with them, and you grew up so they passed you onto somebody else. You might've stopped cutting yourself, but you still self harm. Not eating, not fighting back when your foster father beats you, putting yourself in a position to be emotionally abused and manipulated, and I'm sure there's more. You pretend to be tough to avoid the reality of your situation, but really, you're just a scared, confused kid, hoping that things will magically get better for you." The truth hurt her. It hurt me, too. Damn. Part of me regretted blowing up on her like that, that is, until she fought back.

"You're not the only one with a party trick and a fucking death wish." Alex's voice dripped with anger, but also hurt. Her eyes, though, told a different story. I could tell that little head of hers was working hard. God, what have I gotten myself into? "You think I'm the only one here with attachment issues? You probably grew up in a single-parent house, probably with your mom and a sibling or two. Everything was on your shoulders, it was your responsibility to be the 'man of the house.' Something happened that made you want to grow up and put people away for good. Someone hurt you real bad. Probably when you were around my age, huh? I'm guessing I'm not the only kid you've tried to save. You have a deep, dark secret, and you think that by helping kids like me, you can get a little bit of yourself back, but that's the past. Whatever happened, you blame yourself for it, so you're desperately trying to make it up to yourself by parading me around, showing the success story that you helped build!"

The silence in the car was all that remained. That, and a few angry tears on Alex's cheeks. I didn't know what to say. She was right. Damn, she was so right. How could she read me like a book after only knowing me for this long? I guess it's a skill foster kids have to have.

Alex angrily wiped her cheeks, looking away from me with a clenched jaw.

"You know I care about you kid," I finally said. It was the truth.

"Yeah, I know." And she did.

I put the car back in drive and kept going toward the BAU.