"Do you feel sorry for him?"
Saboban, following the navigation, rushed towards the bar where Michael Janasco lived. After getting into the car, Hotch remained silent for a long time before suddenly asking this out of nowhere.
Jack didn't need to guess who he was referring to. After hesitating for a moment, unsure of how to respond, he finally spoke hesitantly.
"If Janasco hadn't harmed innocent people, maybe."
But what he didn't say was, why did Michael Janasco go insane? If it were them, could they have withstood so many consecutive blows?
"A man, working hard for nearly fifty years, finally about to pay off his mortgage, with a son growing up, only to have his wife suddenly file for divorce.
Maybe their love ran out, or maybe he had neglected his wife's feelings, and she found someone else. That's not unusual; things like this happen all the time in this country."
This was the first time Jack had heard Hotch ramble on like this.
"But what they did to him? He was an innocent man, betrayed by both his lover and best friend, losing his family, his home, and even custody of his child.
When he pitifully tried to comfort himself, thinking at least he could still see his child once a week, they told him that even the child he had raised for fourteen years wasn't his and took away his visitation rights."
Hotch's emotions began to unravel as he spoke, the veins in his neck bulging out.
"So, do you sympathize with him?" Jack cautiously asked after Hotch finished.
"For a moment, I couldn't stop myself from feeling that way."
Hotch sighed deeply, momentarily looking defeated.
"I've always advised Reid, and even discussed it with Emily, to detach themselves emotionally. We deal with too many psychopaths and mentally ill individuals. The longer you stare into the abyss, the easier it is to fall in.
Ironically, I found out that I'm the one who can't fully detach."
"Ah, this!" Jack deliberately put on a shocked expression. "Why didn't you ever talk to me about this? I need psychological support too."
Though he knew Jack was joking, trying to lighten the mood, Hotch still gave him an exasperated look.
"You realized this problem sooner than I did, didn't you? Otherwise, what do you think you're always busy with? You think I like sitting in my office all day watching you guys mess around?"
Well, you could join us! Always keeping up that distant attitude, who is that for?
Jack grumbled internally, though he would never say it out loud.
Reflecting on it, though, Hotch had attended all the events he organized since joining the BAU, and once even brought his wife and kids along. It seemed he had been aware of this for some time.
After all, this is the real world, and everyone here is a living person. Every day we deal with psychopaths, witness gruesome crime scenes, or talk to heartbroken victims' families.
Even though everyone tries to consciously divide the work, over time, inner demons inevitably emerge.
In professional terms, we all develop psychological issues to some extent, like Rossi's unresolved case from 20 years ago that kept him awake at night, despite him being such a seasoned psychologist.
"I think this is a normal reaction," Jack carefully chose his words.
"We're just human, not made of steel. No matter how strong someone is, there's always a soft spot deep inside.
Hotch, maybe you're too hard on yourself sometimes. This is just normal empathy. Honestly, seeing you like this makes you feel more real to me."
Hotch rubbed his face hard, then forced a smile that looked worse than crying. "Like this?"
Jack was startled, involuntarily shivering. "Who are you? Give me back the Hotch I know."
"Thank goodness Rossi found you, you lucky kid," Hotch ignored his antics and sighed.
"I've always felt lucky," Jack added in his mind, in both his past and current life.
Hotch returned to his usual expression, paused for a long time, and then murmured, "No, I mean, meeting you has been lucky for all of us."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Jack said, turning the steering wheel as Saboban skidded to a stop between another SUV and several police cars.
They had arrived at their destination: a two-story building standing alone near the beach, separated from nearby sportswear and convenience stores selling swimsuits and snacks.
The sign on the building read "Wood's Bar," and outside were several rows of outdoor tables and chairs, while seven or eight police cars surrounded the bar from front to back.
"Where are they?" Jack asked as he stepped out, pulling on a bulletproof vest with "FBI" printed on it. He grabbed a nervous, gun-wielding rookie officer on alert.
"They... they're inside. The suspect may have taken a child hostage, and they couldn't wait for SWAT, so they went in with Chief Parker," the rookie stammered, drenched in sweat. Clearly a newbie.
"Damn it." Jack cursed, pulling out his gun and rushing in. With their two main fighters absent, what was the point of them going inside? Especially the old and the young—they weren't even as tough as the two women.
"Hey, we're inside. What's the situation?" Jack yelled toward the stairs, not bothering to check his surroundings.
"Upstairs is clear," came the responses from Rossi, Emily, and Chief Parker.
"Jack!" came Reid's anxious shout from behind a wooden door leading to the bar's cellar, followed by a gunshot.
Jack vaulted over the bar with a quick push of his long legs, pulling open the partially closed wooden door.
Beyond the door was a set of stairs leading to a large semi-basement wine cellar, almost as big as the entire first floor.
Near the entrance were cluttered shelves and stacked barrels. Jack led the way, with Hotch close behind, quickly bypassing the obstacles. They soon spotted Reid, frozen in place, holding a gun.
Reid was facing three people: a middle-aged white man clutching his groin in pain, the suspect they'd been searching for—Michael Janasco.
Surprisingly, standing in front of the suspect was JJ, shielding a teenager, blocking his line of fire towards Janasco.
"Henry, give me the gun," JJ was still trying to calm the boy down.
Jack gauged the distance between them, gently pushing down Reid and Chief Parker's raised guns, signaling them to let him handle it.
Reid quickly holstered his gun, relieved to see Jack arrive. Among the BAU team, although everyone knew Jack's capabilities, Reid had personally experienced his terrifying skills.
"Anyone hurt?" Jack whispered.
"It was a misfire. JJ subdued Janasco, but the kid picked up the gun."
"He killed Doug! He tried to kill me!" The boy, who seemed to be named Henry, still pointed the gun at them.
"I know, but if you pull that trigger, it'll be you going to jail." JJ hadn't finished speaking when someone scoffed.
Jack holstered his gun, walked over to JJ, and gently checked her slightly bruised face, acting as if the gun aimed at them had no bullets.
Even JJ looked confused, and so did Henry.
"Hey, step aside. What are you doing?" Henry asked, puzzled.
"What am I doing? I want to know what you're doing," Jack countered aggressively. "You think you're the victim, so you point a gun at him? Everyone here can point a gun at him—everyone but you."
"What the hell are you talking about? Get out of my way! He said he killed Doug, and Doug was my father!" Henry still tried to explain.
Jack couldn't help but laugh. "He killed your father, and you're angry, right? You think this guy's crazy, don't you? He is crazy. He's killed six innocent people, just because he thought he was showing them 'mercy,' ending their pain—pain he could relate to.
But do you know why he went insane? He spent most of his life, only to find himself with nothing. He lost everything—his friends, his wife, and the house he worked half his life to buy. In the end, even the son he loved the most."
Seeing the tears welling up in Henry's eyes, Jack waited for the moment he blinked. In that instant, Jack moved.
A blink lasts 0.2 to 0.4 seconds, and even blinking twice or three times takes less than a second, but for Jack, that was all the time he needed.
Before anyone could react, Jack had firmly gripped the gun's slide, and with a quick pull and twist, dislocated Henry's wrist, disarmed him, and had him pinned to the ground.
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