reideticmemory

[reideticmemory]

PSA:

DOCTOR SPENCER REID IS THE CUTEST AND BEST MEMBER OF THE CRIMINAL MINDS BAU TASKFORCE AND HE DESERVES ALL THE LOVE THE WORLD HAS TO OFFER AND MORE AND YOU CAN FIGHT ME IF YOU DISAGREE

[reideticmemory]

Our unsub [part 4]

A.n: OK so this was not supposed to be uploaded already but i accidentally pressed post? And now i struggle to find how to put it back as a concept. However, even though this isn't perfected yet, you can still enjoy lol.

"[Y/N]?" I heard my name being said. Slowly, I opened my eyes, coming to the realisation that I was still in a cell. I sat up to face the man who had called my name. It was the younger agent standing there, doctor Reid.

"[Y/N], I came here to ask you a few questions." He said. What he said upset me for some reason, I really did not want to be talking anymore. But I knew I had to. "I was sleeping," I growled, "But okay." I nod.

"Okay. [Y/N], I do need you to know that we are not here to get you locked away. We are here to catch the bad guys. We are not sure if you're the bad guy. Help us find out." He starts off. I simply nod.

"We need to know, what was the relationship between you and those five classmates we found? There had to be some sort of relation. Why those five?" He asked me, staring at me intensely. I knew I had to give him the truth. "Can you tell me the five names once more?" I ask.

"Let's take this one by one. Let's start with Simon Faye." He says. Simon Faye. Punched me in the face once causing my nose to bleed. Wrote nasty words on my locker all the time. Wasn't the worst one of out of all those who bullied me.

"Uh.. Simon was a.. He was in my class. We didn't really like, hang out or something. We weren't really friends.. At all. He didn't like me. At all." I stumbled over my words.

"How'd you know he didn't like you?" The agent asks me. "Er.. He did not keep that a secret. He just.. He was very obvious about it. " I said, hesitating about the words I should be using. For a moment, I saw a hint of sympathy in the eyes of the agent.

"Martha Spenders?" He recalls the next name. "Martha was uh.. Yeah well, she.. Did not like me very much either. That much was obvious." I spoke softly.

"Aiden Green?" Another name is thrown at me. This name has more meaning to it. This name threw me off for a good three seconds. I had to pull myself together for this one. Aiden was one of the worst. I could never forgive him for what he'd done together with his stupid friends.

"He.." I paused. I took a deep breath. I felt a tear roll down my cheek and looked down to hide my emotion from the agent. I could not go on.

"[Y/N], were you.. bullied by those people?" He asks, hesitation visible in his voice. I slowly nod my head. I take another deep breath and try to stop crying.

"I need you to know something, okay? We have found something. We found so much DNA on the bodies. We found DNA all over them, and we believe the person who matches the given DNA, is the murderer of those five people in your basement, and the murderer of-" Doctor Reid was interrupted by the sound of his phone.

He looked at me in awe, then reached to pick up his phone. He turned around. I could catch a few short phrases: "Are you serious?" "That.. That means.." "That means we've been so wrong.."

The doctor sounded astonished, to say the least. His expression of confusion was none of a surprise to me when he turned around.

"The DNA they found, we think it matches the unsub. The DNA found is from a male." He spoke as if a mic was about to drop.

[reideticmemory]

Someone: How are you?

Me: I'm fine :)

Inner Me: Okay I just wanna know how Garcia knows how to spell every name the team tells her to search ??! Like I can barley spell my own name some days ??! And she just knows how to spell any given name handed to her ?!!! Names have so many different spellings and she ??! always guesses the right spelling?!! I wi..sh.,.

[reideticmemory]

Our unsub [part 3]

author's note: okay so i'm not very quick updating but i am trying to focus on school and also!!!! i have a crush on someone irl which is crazy help me. another thing i wanted to say is that somethings in the story concerning being taken into custody by fbi etc may not be according to actual reality, i have no idea what it is like so please have mercy on me

"We need a medic in here!" I hear the old man yell. His voice sounds far away. Another voice starts talking, it's the younger agent. "Rossi, I don't think we need one. I think she is simply experiencing vasovagal syncope, it occurs when your body overreacts to certain triggers, with changes in vessel tone and blood pressure, as mediated by the brain. Vasovagal syncope is typically harmless and requires no treatment, so a glass of water once she's conscious again will do." He speaks.

"Well, regardless, we need her for interrogation. We have nothing on an unconscious unsub." The old man replies. "Can you get her pulse?" He asks. No answer.

I hear a chair being moved. I want to stand up, but I am unable to do so. I feel something warm in my neck. "She's got a pulse." The voice of the young agent sounds much closer than it did before. "Good. Can you get her to regain consciousness now?"

"[Y/N]? [Y/N], can you hear me?" I heard the young agent. I could not respond, even if I had wanted to.

"She'll probably regain consciousness in a minute. To get her to regain consciousness faster we need to accelerate blood flow to the brain, which we can do by holding her legs up. I think it's unneccesary though, she can do this on her own." The young one replies. I thought agent Rossi called him a doctor, doctor Spencer Reid. He sure talked like he was a doctor.

I opened my eyes and was blinded by the light of the grey interrogation room. "Look who's back." Agent Rossi says. "Great. I'll go get her a cup of water before she faints again." The doctor replies. He walks out of the room.

Using all of my strength, I slowly get myself back up on the chair. One of my hands was still cuffed to the table leg. Both my hands were sweaty and shaking. I looked up to see the old man. I looked straight into his eyes. "You really think I did this, don't you?" I asked him. He nods. There's tears welling up in my eyes.

The doctor opens the door and walks back in. "Here you go, have a cup of water. It'll do wonders."

"Thank you." I whisper back. I look down at my trembling hands yet again, not knowing what to say. An awkward silence befell the room. "[Y/N], we have enough evidence to keep you in custody for now. We would have really appreciated it had you cooperated, but you are clearly not willing to. If you do not want to talk, that is fine. But your silence won't help you in court." Agent Rossi said, staring at me in frustration.

"I'd like to cooperate. But the thing is, I did not have anything to do with this. I have no clue what happened to Matthew or the others. I have no answers to give you." I raise my voice, trying to make myself seem calm.

Rossi raises his brows. "Alright. We'll stop the interrogation for now. We'll resume whenever you feel you remember a little bit more about that night." Rossi again. I nod. There is nothing more to remember about that night. Except Matthew grabbing my throat and tossing me into the wall harshly. That's what I have to leave out.

I'm not completely sure why I can never tell anyone about the way Matthew abused me. Maybe I am ashamed. I do feel ashamed. But it is not the complete truth. I can not talk about what Matthew did, because after all, I still feel a strong need to protect him. After all, Matthew was not a bad person at all. He had simply been through a lot.

Additionally, I think it would have made me more of a suspect had I told them about his abusive tendency. I would have murdered out of rage or maybe even self-defense. But I did not murder anyone.

I was brought to a cell. Thankfully, it was not one of those shared cells. It did tell me though that this was not going to be my stay for long. I would probably be moved a lot, or so I had heard from other people who had been in jail.

It doesn't really matter anyways. I needed to get out of here, as soon as possible. It did mean I had to do something. I had to proof it wasn't me. And I had to do so by proving it was someone else.

I began to think deeply. Who could it possibly have been? Someone who wanted to frame me for five murders. Someone who wanted my boyfriend dead. Someone who wanted those who used to bully me so bad dead.

This person chose to murder these people for a specific reason. They murdered the people who bullied me. They had murdered my abusive boyfriend. They must have known a lot about me. Who could have possible known though? No one knew of the abuse.

I felt helpless. I could really not think of anyone who would murder those who had hurt me, then put the blame on me. It's ridiculous. But if I would not find someone, it'd mean for me to rot away in prison. I did not want that.

I felt a tear roll down, stuck hanging at my chin. I tried to calm myself down, counting to ten. I sat down on the hard bed. I tried to sleep, and my body simply couldn't refuse anymore at this point. My eyes closed and didn't open until I heard my name again.

To be continued..

[reideticmemory]

[reideticmemory]

Our Unsub [part 2]

warnings: mentions of abuse, bit of a panic attack, murder

I was in a small room. I sat on a chair, a table in front of me. I nervously tapped the table leg. A man came in, followed by another one. The first man had grey hair, he looked old. He looked almost emotionless, his eyes cold and even slightly intimidating. He did not have a harsh face though, and I was sure this man would have been nicer to meet had I not been a murder case suspect. The other one was much younger, probably around my age, which also made him somewhat more approachable honestly. He looked a bit uncomfortable though, and I was unsure about why that was.

The both of them sat down opposing me. "My name's David Rossi, and this is doctor Spencer Reid. Miss [Y/L/N], could you explain to us why you are here?" The older man, agent David Rossi, spoke up. His question did not make any sense to me. I figured, that if these people were trained FBI agents, they'd probably be able to read the question marks on my face. Then, they'd have to realise that I really had nothing to do with the murder of Matthew.

"Of course you have the right to remain silent, however, that will not get you anywhere." The agent spoke again. I did not know what to say. I did not know how to respond at all. The doctor now opened his mouth to say something. "You see, we already have some pretty strong evidence that links you to those murders and-" My heart sank. I interrupted him:"Sorry, did you just say those murders? Murders? As in plural?" I spat out in disbelief. The doctor nodded slowly. "That is correct." He replied.

It's crazy that these people could even see me as a possible suspect. I'm small, fragile and weak. There was no way in hell I would have been able to murder Matthew. He would have murdered me. These people were talking nonsense. Were they insane? Or did they just need to blame someone? Who's the other dead person linked to me? I felt sick.

"It wasn't me." I said, looking sternly in front of me while tapping the leg of the table. "Evidence suggests otherwise." Agent Rossi said. "What evidence?" I asked. There could not be any evidence, because it was not me. "Strong evidence," Rossi said, dodging the question, "Tell us about that last day you saw your husband." He ordered

I sighed, but I had to talk. Maybe it would help me. "It wasn't that special. I got back from my job at 6 in the morning. Slept till 3 in the afternoon. When I woke up I saw Matthew shortly, then I got out of the house to get some fresh air and I headed back to my job afterwards. When I returned from my job the next morning I could not find him. I figured he slept at a friend's house. I called the friend around 9 in the morning. He did not know where Matthew was. So I panicked. I went to the police station and filed for a missing person's report."

"Where do you work? Do you only ever work at night?" Agent Rossi asked. I nodded. "I work at a bar. Pays enough to make ends meet." I replied. "Did he work?" The agent continued. I shook my head. "Was your relationship with him good? No issues between the two of you?" Rossi asked another question. "Our relationship was great." I lied. It was the one thing I was not going to tell them. Had I said we had been fighting, had I said he'd been abusive, it would make me even more of a suspect.

"[Y/L/N], what is your relationship with Denny Edwards?" Rossi asks. Shivers. My face went pale. Throughout highschool, Denny and five others were always after her. They'd bullied her so much, it really made her life a living hell. "Former classmate.. Why?" I asked. The two agents looked at each other for a moment.

"[Y/N], he has been found dead along with five others, also former classmates of yours. Found in your basement." The doctor said. He continued talking, but I did not hear any of that. It became a blur to me all of sudden. I could feel I had no control over my breath, no control over my body at all. The last thing I felt was my head hitting the cold floor of the interrogation room.

To be continued..

[reideticmemory]

Our unsub

Hi this is my very first fanfic to upload and i really hope it doesn't suck as much as i think it does. It'll be a [Y/N] kinda fic so it will all be from the POV of [Y/N]. Sorry if i disappoint.

Prompt: You work late nights in a bar to make ends meet for you and your boyfriend, who has some serious anger issues. When your boyfriend goes missing you're broken, even though you are kind of glad he is no longer able to hurt you. The FBI takes notice of this.. Did you murder your boyfriend or did someone else do it? What do Rossi and Dr Reid think of you? Are you.. the unsub they've been looking for?

Warning for part 1: Explicit mentions of physical/mental abuse, angst, murder

Have fun reading about tragedy!!!

Part 1. INTRO: Finding out he's gone

I still felt the tight grip of his hand burning around my neck. He had been pushing me up against the wall. My thoughts had been racing; afraid I was going to be knocked unconscious, break my bones, or worse. I had been afraid of him like that before. He'd done it before. And he would be doing it again. I knew that, very well.

The cold fresh air helped for a moment to clear my mind. It helped me realise that I had to leave Matthew at some point. This was that point. But I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to do so even if I truly wanted it.

The old bar was always full of people around this time, trying to get into the bar was hard as I had to get past the rude, impassionate people that were waiting in queue. My work as a bartender required me to work with those kind of disrespectful people, and it was a pain, everyday.

I sat my time out and poured some drinks that night. I spoke to some folks sitting around, loyal customers and rude intruders. 'Hey [Y/N], remember me from high school?' I heard a voice call my name and turned towards a group of students around my age, each of them quite well dressed. I slowly shook my head, I didn't remember the kid. 'Bummer,' he says 'Loved hanging out with you. We would have gone to the Homecoming dance one time, but your mom would not let you go out with me. Remember?' He continued. A lightbulb went off above my head. I certainly remembered. I raised my eyebrows and stared at him in disbelief. 'William! Of course I remember, we used to be good friends. Hold up now,' I said as I looked at the people he was with 'You brought all people from high school here for a reunion of some sort? I thought you had moved states, Latisha!' I exclaimed, as a smile slowly formed on my face. 'I did, but I moved back because I-,' Latisha was interrupted by a guy I vaguely recognized. 'You look hot, by the way, [Y/N].' He said. I raised my eyebrows once more. 'You can't talk like that,' A girl from the group hissed at the boy. 'I'm your girlfriend.' The girl reminded the boy.

A man at least over the age of 50 came to sit by us and said: 'You can't talk like that when you have a girlfriend, young boy. I don't have a girlfriend though, so I'll tell you you're hot.' He said, looking at me. I felt uncomfortable and shivers came down my spine. I immediately tried to shake it off and tried to continue my work as a bartender. I was almost finished for the night.

When I got home I noticed that Matthew was not in bed, nor anywhere else in our house. But it was 4am and I was too tired. I fell asleep rightaway.

In the morning, I still had no clue where he was. I called him. Six times. Voicemail all six times. I called his friend, Alex. Alex did not know where Matthew was either.

I had to go to the police office to file a missing person's report. They had to find him. Things hadn't been cleared between the two of us. There were a lot of things we still needed to talk about. When he returned I wanted to get him treatment for his anger issues. Maybe if he ever fully got over these issues we'd try again.

But for now, I was almost happy about the fact that Matthew was gone. I loved this new sense of freedom, as if I had broken free from a cage that I had been locked inside for months.

When they found the body of Matthew, and the police came by to tell me, I was unsure about how I felt. I didn't wish death upon Matthew. I never had, even though Matthew, on the other hand, would have gladly killed me. I simply could not be sad about the murder of my boyfriend. It almost felt like a relief.

I was questioned shortly, but the police quickly let go of me. I was all on my own now, forced to move on without knowing what had happened to Matthew. Not knowing what had happened to Matthew was awful, it kept me awake whenever I was trying to sleep and it was eating me alive. The next few days went by with a lot of sadness and overthinking. I got called a few times, by some friends of Matthew's and by some anonymous loser trying to be funny by calling and telling me: "I'll protect you."

Four days later, there's some harsh knocking on the door. '[Y/N][Y/L/N], open the door! We're from the FBI!' Someone had yelled. They had not even given me time to open up the door. They kicked the door down and grabbed my wrists, cuffing them on my back. 'You're under arrest for murder. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be held against you.' Murder? Was this about Matthew? Do they really think I killed him? The man had showed me his credentials for a second and I tried to get his name. The only thing I was able to pick up was his name. Rosti. David Rosti.

To be continued..

[reideticmemory]

Hi i'm currently writing a fic series where the goal is for u to find out who is the correct unsub!! Hope u all enjoy i will probably upload the first part tomorrow :)

[reideticmemory]

hi it's 3am and i just decided i needed a tumblr for all my angsty fanfic ideas involving criminal minds.