Battlecry | Criminal Minds (gxg)

Chapter 22

~May, 1998~

The thing they don't tell you about graduation is how boring it is. With a graduating class of a few hundred, the ceremony could easily last three hours. I'm near the front of the alphabet, and by the time they're done I've already gotten over the entire thing. We all stand from our seats and gather in the center of the football field to take pictures and throw our caps and the whole sha-bang. I take part with my friends, smiling and laughing. And I'm not even faking it.

Because despite the boredom, despite the heat, the crowd, and my own exhaustion, I made it. For too long I wondered whether or not I would live long enough to graduate. But I fucking made it. Take that, universe.

My dad and sister join me on the field, each of them throwing their arms around me. I didn't see them after what happened with Murphy. For starters, my dad was still recovering from pneumonia. And I didn't want them to see me, not until I was healed enough to hide the slight limp in my walk, the bruises around my neck, the cuts on my face. I gave them the summary of what happened—Murphy did some bad things, we tracked him down, and arrested him.

They don't need to know the details. As far as public citizens are concerned, no one can know the details. The case itself is confidential to everyone but the highest agents at the Bureau. The Director himself oversaw the removal of the files, making sure to tie up loose ends.

I know it seems like a lot of secrecy for someone who's going to prison. But it's the men backing Murphy, the organizations he dug his way into, that could cause problems in the future. And if something were ever to happen, and Murphy took power again—everyone involved would be targets. Which means, after tonight, I will be formally reassigned. All contact with Andrew and Janelle will be cut off. The only other person who knows the full truth will be Gideon, who's overseeing my training and assignments until I qualify for a job at the BAU. It'll all be reduced to ash and dust.

After pictures upon pictures with friends and family, my dad, sister and I make our way to the parking lot. I slow my walk, tapping my dad on the shoulder.

"There's someone I need to talk to. Be there in a sec," I tell him before heading across the lot. I walk around to the far side of the SUV, blocked from sight of the crowd. Gideon stands there, arms crossed, leaning against the door.

"Congratulations," he says with a slight smile. "Someone's here to see you."

The door slides open. The Director smiles at me from his seat. I climb in and Gideon closes the door again.

The Director is kind, but all angles. Sharp chin, sharp jaw, sharp eyes. His smile warms his expression enough to be considered friendly. He holds out his hand. "Congrats, D'angelo."

I shake it firmly. "Thank you sir."

"I didn't want to wait," he explains, hand reaching into his blazer. "You deserve this."

He hands the item to me. Thin, black, smooth. On one side, a shining gold badge. I can't help my smile. "Thank you. I won't let you down."

"I hope not," he says as the door opens again. "I have high hopes for you."

────

That night, lying in bed in my apartment, I hold the badge in my hands. The yellow light of the lamp reflects off the polished surface. I run a finger over the grooves, reading the words of the insignia.

Fidelity

Bravery

Integrity

Federal Bureau of Investigation

When I flip it open, my official badge is tucked into the laminated pocket. Twenty-one year old me, lips twisted in half a smile, eyes burning.

Special Agent Carli D'angelo

I whisper it out loud, the words making my skin tingle. Nothing has ever sounded more right.

I tuck the badge into my nightstand beside my government issued firearm and the knife Gideon gifted me. Rolling over, darkness settling across the room, I let out a long, slow breath.

Three years ago I didn't know what the future held any more than I knew how to solve a calculus problem. Three years ago I was lost and wandering and ready to give up. Things got better. They got worse again. I succeeded, and I failed, and I grew. I found love and heartbreak and they both fucking hurt. But I'm still here. And maybe, maybe one day, I won't be here alone.

Because I'm not giving up. I'm not done fighting.

I did it. I survived.

No. I didn't just survive.

I lived.