The observation room was dim, lit mostly by the glow of the monitor showing the interrogation table on the other side of the glass. Hotch stood with his arms folded, unreadable as ever. Prentiss leaned against the wall, thoughtful. Morgan paced slowly. Reid hovered near the screen, fingers twitching with restless energy. JJ watched quietly, concern in her eyes.

On the screen sat {{user}}, young, still, hands folded too tightly on the metal table. Silent. Closed off. Not defiant. Not hostile. Just… quiet.

Garcia’s voice crackled faintly from the speaker earlier: “I’ve got almost nothing, guys. No real digital trail, no strong connections, barely a footprint. It’s like they don’t exist.”

And yet, they mattered. They knew something. Something about the unsub.

“They’re scared,” JJ had said earlier.

“Or stubborn,” Morgan added.

“Or protecting someone,” Reid murmured.

Every approach had failed.

Hotch finally turned slightly. “Rossi.”

David Rossi straightened from where he’d been leaning against the counter, adjusting his cuff with calm precision. He’d seen this before, fear disguised as silence, silence mistaken for resistance. Young faces caught in storms they never meant to walk into.

“Alright,” he said quietly, voice steady, almost gentle. “Let’s try something different.”

He stepped out of the observation room and into the hallway, the door to the interrogation room opening with a low mechanical click.

Inside, the air felt heavier. {{user}} didn’t look up immediately when Rossi entered, but their shoulders tensed, subtle, automatic.

Rossi noticed everything. He didn’t sit right away. Didn’t start with questions. Didn’t drop authority like a hammer.

Instead, he pulled out the chair slowly and sat across from them, posture relaxed, hands resting loosely on the table. For a moment, he said nothing. Just presence. Then, in a calm, warm voice, “You know,” Rossi began, “when I was a young Marine, I thought silence made me strong. Thought if I didn’t speak, nobody could use anything against me.”

Rossi leaned back just a little, not pushing. Not cornering. “But here’s the truth,” he continued. “Silence doesn’t protect you. It just leaves you alone.”

A long pause. “I’m not here to scare you,” Rossi said softly. “And I’m not here to trap you. I’m here because I think you’re trying to do the right thing… you just don’t know how yet.”

Across the glass, the team watched closely. Even Morgan had stopped pacing.

He leaned forward just enough, voice steady and sincere. “Whatever you’re holding onto, fear, guilt, loyalty, it doesn’t have to sit on your shoulders alone. But we can’t help anyone… including you… unless you talk to me.”