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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 4 months ago

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The Fox

Season One Masterlist

Machismo

Natural Born Killer

Summary: There is an unsub killing families of a mom, a dad, a son, and a daughter in Maryland and Virginia who were thought to be on vacation before being found dead in their homes.

Warning: References to the death of children; Talk of unchild-like behavior; Mention of Emily Prentiss; Reference to Season Twelve Arc, Zoe being kind of mean to Garcia

"You will catch the fox with cunning and the wolf with courage." — Albanian Proverb

Doctor Thomas Fuller wrote, "With foxes, we must play the fox."

Jack Hotchner (even though Hotch had stated he didn’t want his son to have the same name as a serial killer but chose the name of one of the most infamous) was born October nineteenth, 2005, exactly nineteen days ago, the first (known) child of the BAU since Zoe and his birth had been far less scary than her own, twenty years ago. He was finally meeting his BAU family. He seemed to be so sleepy as Hotch held him.

"He's so gorgeous." Zoe said, showing a whole new side to her.

“Thank you.” Haley said, beaming with pride.

“If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive.” Spencer said.

“Look at his little witty bitty nose.” Garcia cooed.

“He is so cute. Cuter than I ever was.” Zoe said.

“Zoe, you were a cute little baby.” Alexander scolded his youngest.

“No. Zarah was the cute baby. I was the baby that everyone was concerned about and the stillborn.” Zoe deadpanned.

“Briefly! They resusitated you! Before I had a heart attack at twenty-one. And I mean, yeah, you said your first word at six months old and by nine months, you could speak full sentences. And by three years old, I found out Rossi let you interview Ted Bundy.” Alexander had to agree that Zoe did cause quite a bit of worrying with her unchildish-like behavior and fascination with true crime and serial killers.

“Well, he was being executed in January.” Zoe deadpanned like she didn't see what was wrong with that.

Garcia changed the subject as Morgan approached and JJ looked at Zoe, incredulously, “Don’t you want one of these.”

“Mm. I’ll just stick to practicing.” Morgan snarked.

"Zoe?"

Zoe looked at Garcia with an initially incredulous look that slowly formed into a deadpan look which usually meant Garcia was being unintentionally insensitive. In this case, the man who killed her mother got off on killing both pregnant women and their unborn fetuses

Elle came over and said, "Congratulations.

"Thanks. She's amazing. I'm a little terrified." Hotch said.

"Rightly so." Zoe said, obliviously, adjusting the

"Zoe." Alexander scolded his youngest.

"What?" She asked, still oblivious. "Shush! He'll get cold! Speaking of cold, colds in newborns are not usually serious but it can develop into more dangerous conditions if left untreated. A fever of 100.4 or higher under three months is considered an emergency and should go to the hospital. And babies can suffocate in unsafe sleeping positions, the safest sleeping position until age one in on their backs, this can refuse the risk of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome by up to forty-five times and gravity makes it harder for spit up to enter their airways, which can prevent choking. And infants have a higher percentage of body water than adults and since they can't communicate their thirst, they're espeically suspceptible to dehydration.

Spencer nodded in approval, not realizing how horrified they were making everyone else. Haley looked espcially horrified.

"Are you trying to give us both heart attacks now?" Hotch deadpanned.

"Maybe." She said. "Ever heard of paternity leave?"

"Zoe."

"What? I was last BAU child, and I was a disaster." Zoe said.

"You'll be fine, Haley." Alexander reassured her. "I raised two girls who were too smart than any baby should be that their age."

"We should get going." Haley said, seeing Elle had cases in her hands.

"A pleasure seeing you, Mrs Hotchner." Spencer said, formally.

Haley put baby Jack back in the stroller and rolled him into into the elevator.

"Sudden Infant Death Syndrome?" Hotch asked Zoe.

"What?" She asked, incrediously.

Elle handed out the files with a heavy sigh.

"Bad?" Hotch asked.

"The worst." Elle said.

They arrived to the briefing room where Gideon had put up the photos of the crime scene and victims on the board. "Crawford family. Murdered three days ago."

"I saw it on the news." Morgan said, entering.

"They were found in the basement of their house." Gideon said.

"Bags packed for a vacation they never took." JJ added.

"Reporter said it was a murder-suicide? The father stabbed them all and then shot himself?"

"That's the conclusion Maryland State Police came to. The gun was found next to the father, he had gunpowder residue on his right hand."

"That's usual. Two different weapons in a murder-suicide." Zoe noted, frowning. She personally knew a person or two connected to a murder-suicide... or attempted one.

"And now you must have some compelling reason to think that Chris Crawford didn't off his family?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah. Another murdered family, the Millers, found a month ago." JJ said and put down a photo of a family. "The mother, Reese Miller, her two children and her new husband. Again, they were found in the basement, and like the Crawfords, their suitcases were packed for a vacation."

"Both cases, the bodies were discovered five days after their vacations were supposed to have started." Gideon said.

"Yet the coroner determined that they had been dead only twenty-four hours." JJ added.

"So, for four days both families remained in the house." Spencer noted.

"Location of the bodies in both cases, the basement. That indicates a level of organization." Gideon said.

"With a quick but disorganized application of overpowering force." Morgan added.

"If these aren't murder-suicides, someone's doing a damn good job of making them look like it." Spencer said.

"Possibly this man, Eric Miller." JJ said, holding up a mugshot photo of a man. "Biological father of the Miller children. Arlington PD issued a BOLO for Miller after the bodies were discovered."

"Ex-wife Reese Miller had a restraining order against him for domestic violence." Gideon said.

"When did she get remarried?" Morgan asked.

"The week before they were killed." JJ said.

Morgan sighed and said, "Violent husbands believe their wives and children are property. Reese Miller getting remarried possibly made him snap."

"I don't know." Zoe muttered, her instincts told her it was just too easy.

"Well, the Virginia cops finally located Eric Miller last night responding to a drunken disturbance at a motel, where Miller had been hiding out." JJ said. When they found him, they discovered blood on his black leather jacket. It belonged to his children."

"Was any of his DNA found at the Crawford house?" Morgan said.

"No." Gideon said.

"Did he know the Crawfords?" Morgan asked.

"If he does, he's not saying. In fact, he hasn't said a word since his arrest." JJ said. Spencer picked up the suspect's photo and raised his eyebrows in surprise at the look of the thuggish-looking man. "The Arlington PD have asked us to interview him."

"Oof, if anyone could apply overwhelming force, he's your man." Spencer commented.

"I want you and Zoe to find out. Talk to him." Gideon said,

"You-you want us to, uh, talk to him?" Spencer stuttered.

"Yeah, you've both done interviews before with other agents running point. You can do it together." Gideon said.

"Yeah, the last time, I was up close and personal with a criminal, he kicked my ribs in while saying some very inapporate words in Russian. This should be fun." Zoe deadpanned, causally.

"You interviewed multiple serial killers and cult leaders since you were three." Alexander deadpanned. "You spoke to Ed Kemper multiple times that you had such a rapor that he often complimented your intellect."

"And bombers and arsonists and kidnappers and terrorists. What's your point?" Zoe said with a defensive tone at the mention of the example.

"Did she just say terrorists?"

"Well, it wasn't so much an interview as them punching me and shouting at their professional torturers." Zoe said, again with that casualness.

—————————————————————————————

Spencer awkwardly fumbled with the door handle as Zoe watched before he finally opened it.

"You know, a door." She snarked.

He gave her a look before turning back to Eric Miller.

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid and this is Doctor Zoe Noble-Valdez. We're from the FBI." He said as he opened the door for Zoe and closed it behind her.

"We'd like to ask a few questions, if you don't mind." Zoe said with a polite smile.

"You two got something you wanna ask me?" Eric spoke in a gravelly voice, "you look me in the eye, and you ask."

Zoe sat down as Spencer took his bag off and followed suit, sitting next to Zoe.

Spencer cleared his throat and looked through the file, "Three days ago..."

"You're not looking at me." Eric said.

Spencer looked him in the eye, still anxious and spoke, "Three days ago, the Crawford family was murdered."

"Is that right?" Eric said, passively.

"Did you know them?"

"What are you getting at?" Eric asked in a soft voice that Zoe recognized not only from that of roughened criminals but of her own. The kind that foreshadowed a danger in them. The want to be intimidating to survive.

Spencer opened the file and took out a photo of one of the Crawford family's bloodied hand from the morgue, peeking under the sheet.

"They were killed in the exact same way that your family was killed."

"And?" Eric asked, "I've been slapped around all night by every cop in Virginia. What makes you think a damn photo is gonna scare me?"

Zoe noticed he was cynical that they would actually get anything done. And as she knew from his profile, he had a long history of violence that stemmed from his childhood of near constant abuse, added in that he was an African-American in Virginia where at best he was two times more likely to be pulled over just for driving and his ex-wife, her new husband, and his children were found dead and he had their blood on him. From the look at it, his injuries weren’t just from the brawl but agitated police too.

Spencer looked down thinking and Eric hit the table abruptly with his handcuffed hands, making Spencer flinch. Zoe, however, didn't react at all, she just looked at him with the same professional, near apathy, she almost always had. "Is that what this is about, hmm?" He was getting angry.

Zoe didn't see sociopathy in him though, she saw hurt only caused by the heartache of a parental figure. She remembered that look from her childhood when Alexander would talk about Zelena. She remembered that look during the amount of the investigation for her sister after she had come back in her dad's eyes. The look in her dad's eyes when they told him that the kidnapping of Zarah Noble-Valdez had been marked a cold case. And every day since. The grief of a father.

Zoe briefly glanced down at Eric's handcuffs hands. They were brusied from throwing punches and... he was still wearing his wedding ring.

"You think I'm crazy? You think I suddenly snapped and I slaughtered my own wife and kids?" His voice broke with rage and mourning and exasperation. "You think I did this? Huh?" He slammed his fists back onto the table, making Spencer flinch again, albeit less violently as Eric furiously stood up. "IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK!?"

The guards restrained him as he stood up, making Spencer stand up, more out of fear of being attacked as his professional facade cracked as Zoe remained as calm as ever, staring up at Eric with no fear, showing more how that prison had traumatized her than at first glance. She had learned not to flinch long since before that, now it wasn't even an instinct to flinch.

Then Hotch, Elle, and Alexander came in, "Mister Miller, sit down now."

"IS THIS YOUR DADDY!" Eric shouted.

"Actually, I'm her's." Alexander said, placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder. “Agent Alexander Noble. Don’t you dare yell at my daughter.”

"I'M DONE TALKING TO YOU PEOPLE!" He shouted.

Zoe finally spoke, speaking as calmly as she usually did, a stark contrast to Eric's emotional screams just a moment ago, "We don't think you're crazy. We work with the Behavior Analysis Unit, we're trained to study the neurological reasonings of criminals. We are psychological profilers." Zoe nodded at Spencer, "Doctor Reid, here, is extremely socially awkward... like there's socially awkward and then several levels up there's Doctor Spencer Reid."

"Zoe." Spencer hissed.

She looked at him and nodded at Eric like, do your thing, superbrain.

"You don't have to talk. Just listen.” Spencer said, “on the—on the occasions you assaulted your wife, you were intoxicated, once the effects of alcohol wore off, you were overcome by feelings of remorse.”

“Which indicates that it’s less of what you truly wanted and more of habitual tendencies you picked up as a child.” Zoe added.

“I’m gonna tell you this just one time, you two shut your mouths!” Eric shouted at them.

“Genetic factors contribute to alcohol stress interactions. Your-your mother was an alcoholic, and she was often too drunk to stop the beatings that your father gave you."

"I think we should stop this." Elle suggested.

"They're not finished." Hotch said.

"They know what they're doing." Alexander said.

"Age six, you were orphaned to a family where the abuse continued, only..." He faltered slightly before continuing, "this time it was sexual."

"None of this was your fault but they made you feel like it was and like you were crazy if you even considered otherwise." Zoe said.

"You both shut your mouths or I'm gonna rip your faces off!" He snapped.

Alexander tensed, giving him a glare at the threat against his "surviving" daughter.

"The abuse continued well into puberty..."

"You became an angry young man, history of violence, drugs, and drinking." Zoe added.

"But my..." He glanced at Zoe, "but our one concern is, Eric, did you or did you not continue the cycle with your own children?"

Eric who had been on the verge of tears this entire time, seemed to be on the verge of breaking down now as he looked at Spencer as if the thought both horrified him but had been one he thought about much too often.

"I never laid a hand on my children. YOU HEAR ME!?"

Spencer nodded and said softly, "I hear you."

"You can't imagine what I saw." He still wasn't opening up. "You can read what I've been through but you can't understand the pain."

They were almost there, Zoe could see it. They just needed one more push. If there was one thing she understood more than criminals or mental health, it was pain caused by trauma and the darkness it inflicts upon someone.

Zoe took a deep breath and leaned forwards, placing her intertwined hands on the table. She spoke calmly but her words were filled with horror and trauma. "My twin sister was born in a hospital three days before me because a deranged madman, that my parents were chasing down, threatened to kill my newborn twin sister, forcing my dad to flee with her, and he kidnapped my mom while she was still in labor with me. He tortured her for days while she was still in labor and then he killed her, just because he could. Because he knew she would put her unborn child with no life above hers. He got off on that kind of thing. Killing pregnant women, letting their fetuses slowly die inside them. My dad found her barely alive with multiple axe wounds to the chest and I had to be delivered via emergency C-section before I died in her womb. Fifteen years later, my dad was a highly esteemed FBI agent and an UnSub who had become obsessed with me kidnapped both me and my sister and put us in different locations. So we would cooperate, becuase he knew we were smart enough to fight back but if the other was on the line, we wouldn't. We'd take whatever he did for the other. I certainly did. He killed people in front of me, he tried to brainwash me, he tried to break me. I managed escape after nearly a year but my sister hasn't been seen since. Every time I look in the mirror because I am nearly identical to her. I see my reflection and all I see is the fact that she's out there and all I have to keep me going is my twintuition that she's still alive which doesn’t exactly appeal to those who aren’t twins or the cold case intuitive or the police, still bound, still gagged, still tortured, waiting to be saved despite being marked a cold case two years ago, and I'm trying to get justice for other families before they end up like my sister, like your wife and kids, to appease my guilt of being the 'lucky' twin. I do know trauma, sir. I do know pain and darkness and heartache. I have been pushed to the brink by murderers and rapists and arsonists and professional torturers. I have been cut, stabbed, burned, starved, drugged, psychologically tortured, physically tortured, and beaten within an inch of my life. I have had every charge of assault committed onto me more times than you dare to believe because of nothing but sheer sadistic enjoyment, they weren't compelled to do it because of a mental illness, they were just sick in the head and misogynistic. I am trauma. I am pain. I am darkness. But most relevantly, I am not like most cops, I don't assume because you're a scary black man with a bad past of abuse and violence that you committed the crime, or that you're about to, while it's not great you were found with the blood on your jacket, you may still be innocent. I know people that are living proof of breaking the cycle of child abuse." Hotch and Alexander. "I just need to hear your side of the story. Your word may allow us to get justice for your children and while we cannot bring them back, we can stop any more children from dying.”

It was silent as everyone but Alexander looked at Zoe in horror and shock at her words as she stared down Eric with intense eye contact that said as much as her words did.

She had sympathy and remorse in her eyes but she kept her facial features calm and professional. Eric could see it. The darkness that infects someone's soul when someone is mercilessly cruel to them even though they had done nothing to deserve that. The darkness that corrupted an innocent life. The pain that remains. The scars that remain on someone's soul long after the physical wounds heal and the physical scars fade. Yet there was light. It was like light shining through cracked glass but it was there because she resolved to remain a good person who was pure at heart but remained a warrior on the outside to keep from getting hurt again.

"I found them like that." He confessed, he dropped his head down as he finally allowed his tears to fall, "Dead. Bloodied." He looked up as his voice broke, "My babies. My sweet, little babies." The guards let him sit back down, "I-I was crazy out of my mind. I didn't know what to do. And I knew the cops were gonna blame me, and they have."

Alexander was behind his daughter again, pulling her into his chest as a hug, holding on tightly to his last baby as if fearful someone would rip her out of his grip.

"So you ran?" Spencer asked.

“Of course he did, his wife had a new husband and the kids had a new father, he had a history of violence including assaulting his wife while intoxicated, they were divorced, he had their blood on his jacket, he has a history of violence before he even met her and he’s an African-American, he's three-point-five times more likely to experience police brutality than white people. Even if the evidence hadn't been stacked against him, he'd be the first one they'd suspect. It's his natural instinct to run from the police even if he didn't do anything wrong. That's why they never caught the Zodiac Killer. They drove past him, assuming that the Zodiac was a black man."

"So what have I got now?"

"You have your innocence. For the sake of your children. I believe that they, at the very least, deserve the truth." Spencer said and he closed the file.

"I can't get the image of my dead children out of my mind." Eric said as Alexander's grip tightened around the only daughter he had left, "Ty, my little boy, he was clutching a-a piece of paper. I think it was a drawing. May-maybe a painting. Please, I'd love to know what he painted, Doctor Reid, Agent Noble-Valdez."

Zoe nodded and followed Spencer out of the interrogation room, walking quickly past him, trying to swallow the emotion she had been holding back down until she nearly walked into a wall, catching sight of herself in the mirror. Of the image of her sister.

Spencer, Hotch, Alexander, and Elle caught up with her, her father pulling her along to walk with them.

"Interesting interrogation techniques." Elle told the young geniuses, "What did you two hope to accomplish?"

"Well, he was closed off, defensive, hostile." Spencer explained. "I needed a way in."

"And you?" Elle asked Zoe.

"He didn't believe we understood his pain, only that we knew of it. He's right, we can't understand his pain, we can only understand our own. He needed to hear my pain. My past. My trauma. He needed to see that I understood pain, that I sympathized with his pain by explaining my pain to him so he could sympathize with me. He needed another broken soul of abuse, trauma, and assault to empathize with him."

"He's suffered a breakdown, but I don't think he killed his family and I know he still loved his wife." Spencer continued as Zoe refused to look at them.

"Why do you say that?" Hotch asked.

"Even though, they were divorced, he still wore the wedding ring." Spencer said.

"And he never said 'ex-wife', he said 'wife'." Zoe added, "And the murders were meticulous and organized depsite the disorganized force. That is due to some aftermath to a delusional, possibly. That man has no delusions. He's been the jail, he's hurt, he's broken, he's a cynic. A realistic cynic. Like I said, police will naturally blame him, he's a black criminal with a history of violence. Any crime he's committed are disorganized and violent in the moment. But he's not broken enough to kill his kids."

—————————————————————————————

Spencer, Alexander, Elle, Morgan and Zoe sat back in the office, staring at the whiteboard with the crime scene photos on it as Gideon stood in front of it, staring at them.

"I believe the UnSub had control over this family. He may have separated each family member. He tells the mother, 'If you scream, I'll kill your children'. He tells the children, 'If you cry, I'll kill Mommy'. The suspect found a way of restraining them without leaving marks." Gideon said, turning back to the team.

"Based on lividity, the ME estimates that the father was the last to die."

"Which means he witnessed the whole event." Alexander said with a heavy sigh, he reached over and stroked his youngest daughter's hair. He wasn't sure he could take that.

"If he did spend time with both families, he must have known he had the time to spend with them." Morgan said.

"Because he knew they were going on vacation." Spencer added.

"Look at travel agents, relatives, work colleagues, contract workers, children's tutors." Gideon said.

The speaker phone beeped and Hotch's voice spoke through it, "Gideon, we've been looking into the Crawford financials."

"Allison Crawford spent way more money than Chris could afford." Garcia said, "They were in major debt."

"And Chris Crawford wrote a number of cheques for a series of visits to a therapist." Hotch added.

"She had two cell phone accounts. One of them billed to a separate address in Southeast Washington, D.C." Garcia said.

"Did you get that?" Hotch asked.

—————————————————————————————

They kicked open the door of the address, very loudly. Hotch and Elle shouted, "Federal Agent" and Morgan shouted "FBI".

The place was a mess but it was familiar. It was familiarly messy. Her mind immediately went to noting a note of neurodivergence. It was the kind of mess her father would create when he would slip from his medication or when the depression would be too much, if he hadn't had Rossi, or Gideon or their significant others, it would be a lot like this.

"It's the cleanest thing in here." Elle said, referring to a blue dog bowl.

Gideon went to a framed drawing on the wall and he took it down.

"What's that?" Elle asked.

"It's a child's painting. It's a colonial house. Mom, dad, two children out front holding hands." Gideon said.

"And a big dog." Zoe noted.

"I think this is the Crawford house, it's signed by Emily.

"Strange." Spencer mused.

"Yeah, Eric Miller said he found his son clutching a painting." Zoe said. "He wanted to know what was on it."

"What was on it?" Elle asked.

"His son's blood." Gideon said.

"Well, I can't tell him that." Zoe said, irritatedly.

There was a sound of nearby clattering and then the sound of presumably Morgan kicking down a door, followed by the barking of a large dog.

"Hey! Hey, don't shoot the dog!" Zoe shouted, running down the hall.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, easy..." A voice said and whistling, calling the dog over.

It was a big man, standing where the shadows covered him.

—————————————————————————————

Zoe say next to Gideon in the interrogation room across from the man they apperhended, Frank Fielding who Zoe deduced had Bipolar disorder.

"Why am I here?" Frank asked.

"I think you know why." Morgan said.

Frank pointed to the drawing, laying on the table, "That's mine.

"The colors indicate a self-confidence with an outgoing personality. It shows an above-average intelligence. The child that painted this was left-handed. Emily Crawford was left-handed." Gideon deduced.

Morgan tossed a paper wad to Frank and Frank instictively caught it with his right hand. "You're not."

"How'd you get the painting, Frank?" Zoe asked and Frank slowly put the paper wad on the table. "Did you forget to take your meds today, Frank? For a severe manic-depressive, that's not good. My dad has it too."

"They make me feel wrong!" Frank protested.

"Wrong enough to kill the Crawfords?" Morgan asked.

Frank looked up and then back down. He seemed... hurt.

"Frank?" Zoe asked.

I-I did a-a bad thing." Frank stuttered.

"What did you do?" Zoe asked.

"I shouldn't have gone to the house. Allison told me not to. I would never, never hurt Allie. She's the only family I've got." Frank said.

"Family?" Morgan asked.

"She's my sister." Frank said, his voice broke as he repeated, "She's dead. She's dead." He was clearly in mourning. "He killed them. Chris did. I know he did it.

"What bad thing did you do?" Zoe asked, gently.

"The rule was, I was never supposed to go to the house. That was the only rule. Allison said if Chris saw me he would never let me see her again. He was gonna lock me up in the loony bin." Frank said. "He never liked me.

"You went to the house."

"She said she couldn't visit me any more. I just wanted to see her. Seeing Allison made everything better. But they cut my phone off that day. The day I went to see them, they cut my phone off!" He started to get angry, "I never would've gone to the house if they hadn't cut off the phone!"

Behind the glass, Alexander said, "Sounds like Zelena's family." Some hadn't liked him very much due to his disorder.

"There's no way this guy could've gotten into the house without a key. Knowing how Chris Crawford felt about his brother-in-law, do you see him having one?" Elle asked.

"No." Hotch said.

"Frank, you went to the house. What did you do?" Gideon asked Frank.

"It was dark and cold. I went around to the side, to look through the window. My breath steamed up the glass and I wiped it clean. And I could see them sitting down for dinner. I saw Emily and Sam... and Sam was crying. I guess he was in trouble."

"Did you see Allison?" Gideon asked.

"Yes. She was saying grace over the table and then... she looked up and saw me and she mouthed something at me. I think it was, 'Get the hell out'. So I left."

"Did Chris see you?" Gideon asked.

"No, he wasn't there, but a friend was at the head of the table." Frank recalled.

"You said, a friend?" Morgan asked.

"I saw someone." Frank nodded.

"What did this person look like?" Morgan asked.

"I didn't see their face, but tiny, really tiny."

"White or black, Frank?" Morgan asked.

"I don't know, but..." Frank said.

"What?" Morgan said, urgently.

"The hair, it-it-it was red." Frank recalled.

It wasn't Chris at the table.

If Frank saw them that day, it wasn't Chris Crawford at the table. She wasn't saying, "Go away." She was saying, "Help me."

Frank seemed to realize this too, "It-it wasn't a friend."

"Frank." Zoe said, gently.

"It wasn't a friend at all. It was him. He's the one who killed them." Guilt overcame Frank at the realization he could've helped.

"Frank."

"I-I-I-I..."

"Frank..." Zoe said, getting up, sensing a meltdown.

"No! No! No!" Frank started to hit himself in the head.

"Frank, stop." Gideon said.

"Frank, Frank." Morgan said.

Quickly, they pushed Frank against the wall and Hotch came in to help.

"No, No! No!"

"Frank!" Zoe grabbed onto Frank's arms, shouting louder than the team had heard before. "FRANK! CALM DOWN! CHILL THE EFF OUT!" She pushed him against the wall, her being the youngest, still really a child, at barely twenty years old, calmed him down slightly, enough to look at her in shock as she spoke loudly on the verge of yelling, saying each word slowly but not in a patronizing way like most people did but so it could sink in and calm him down, "Calm. Down. You hitting yourself in the head is not going to do anything. There was nothing you could've done. You didn't know. We can still catch that bastard and give Allison, and Chris, and Emily and Sam the justice they deserve and keep this bastard from hurting anymore families. He will pay for what he did to your family."

He started to sob, brokenly.

—————————————————————————————

Frank was committed out of fear of further self-harm and possible suicide due to the realization and him not taking his medications.

"Both families had a dog and both houses had a dog door." Morgan said, pointing to the board."

"Fielding said that the person he saw was small.

"Yeah, well, in order to get through that door, you'd have to be five-four, tops and real thin." Zoe said, shrugging but didn't say anymore as that was classified.

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." Gideon quoted.

"Sherlock Holmes was a fictional character. Whoever did this isn't."

"Sherlock Holmes was based on a real person." Zoe said, "We can be pretty sure he's probably found himself another family by now."

When they left the room, Zoe was holding Emily's picture, looking at it.

"You okay?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah, just... I know an Emily." She said.

"Oh."

"Doctor Joseph Bell." Zoe said suddenly.

"What?"

"The person Sherlock Holmes was based on. Gideon read them to me when I was a kid. This guy's no Moriarty." Zoe said. "And isn't that quote just behavioral profiling in a nutshell.

—————————————————————————————

"He's been looking at those pictures all morning." Elle said, referring to Gideon. She looked at Zoe at her desk who was staring at pictures of Emily Crawford's drawings with headphones on, somehow simutaniously lost in thought and fully focused "And so has Zoe."

"Well, I sure hope they see a connection, because I've checked doctors, lawyers, travel agents, tutors, contract workers... I got nothing." Morgan said.

"Why target those families?" Elle asked.

"Well, to know that, we have to know how." Hotch said. "Reid, tell Zoe to pause her audiobook."

"Why do I have to do it?" Spencer frowned.

"Because last time Morgan did it, she nearly broke his wrist." Hotch deadpanned.

Spencer took a piece of Dove chocolate—Zoe had gotten him a giant bag for snacking since he often forgot to eat and threw it at her, it missed by a foot but her hand still shot out and she grabbed it. She looked up and he motioned for her to take her headphones off. She did so.

"All right, we know organised killers are often skilled workers with above-average intelligence." Morgan said, getting up from his chair as Zoe unwrapped the chocolate, "A high birth status, and in most cases, male. In the workplace, he's socially confident. And with women, sexually competent. Every offence is pre-planned. Targeting the victim is almost as pleasurable as the actual kill. These guys, they're meticulous. It's a compulsion. Everything has to have its proper place. They do exhaustive amounts of research on their victims. They watch their every move. Every last detail is observed. Everything has to be written ever so neatly in a book or possibly a journal. Like when the kids are coming home from school, when Daddy will be home. Playtime, suppertime, bath time, bedtime. Plan the work, work the plan. This is the way that he maintains control. It's also how he personalises his target. So, nothing's left to chance and absolutely nothing is left out of place. Ever. So, he plans the work. And when he's good and ready, he works that plan. He takes great pride in his job." He sat back down. "I think the workplace has to be the connection."

Gideon came up to them, holding two pictures of a house they had found one with no color in the Crawford's house and one with color they had found in Frank's possession.

"Both are by Emily. Painted months apart. This one... is full of color, life. The one I found at Emily's house has lines, dimensions. No color. I believe Emily was coerced to make this."

"It's a point of view." Zoe realized, kicking her wheelie chair over to him to take the colorless picture, too lazy to get up. "It's his point of view. It must be where the killer stood and just watched the family."

She gave the picture a rather disturbed look, like she was remembering something unpleasant. She was. So Alexander took it from her, she shook her head and rolled back to her previous spot.

Hotch spun a wedding ring on the table, "each of the dead husbands was missing his wedding ring. This is the UnSub's trophy."

"He targets a family because he lost his own." Alexander realized. "For a few days, he gets to play daddy."

"And he can do whatever he wants because no one's gonna come lookin' because they're supposed to be on vacation." Morgan added.

"Let's get forensics to check the inside of Chris Crawford's clothing. The suspect may have worn the father's clothes to..." Gideon scoffed at the word, "Complete the fantasy."

"But why kill them?" Elle asked.

"'Cause the fantasy can't last." Zoe said, darkly.

"What did you say about Miller having no delusions?" Hotch asked.

Before Zoe could reply, Spencer spoke in automatic monotone 'And the murders were meticulous and organized depsite the disorganized force. That is due to some aftermath to a delusional, possibly. That man has no delusions'."

"Zoe, you saw it."

"When the delusion breaks, it can anger them. Make them kill."

"Do we know anything that actually helps us identify this bastard?" Elle asked.

"Wait a minute," Morgan said and looked at a picture of the deceased Crawford family. "Chris Crawford worked for the I.R.S. and Reese Miller was a secretary at the GAO."

"That makes them both government employees."

—————————————————————————————

Zoe and Spencer went to Garcia's lab to assist her.

"We've got to stop meeting like this, Reid. People will talk." Garcia teased. "But then, talk is cheap."

"Yeah, I hear H.R.'s considering another sexual harrassment meeting based off your banter with Morgan alone." Zoe deadpanned.

She pulled up a chair with a big bag of chocolates in her lap.

"Talk's not cheap when you're talking to a therapist. The Crawfords made twelve weekly payments to the Applewood Family Center. What about the Millers?" Spencer asked and took a chocolate that Zoe was offering him.

Garcia brought up the Millers' bank records, "No, nothing here."

"How about pharmaceuticals? No one gets therapy these days without a healthy dose of medication." Spencer said.

"What're you implying, Reid?" Garcia asked.

"That everyone is medicated." Spencer said, blankly.

Garcia just looked over, "Did you just make a joke?"

"No." He said, blankly, "Statistics. They show that..."

"Reid, next time, just say 'yes', okay?" Garcia interrupted.

"Well, he's right before you so rudely interrupted him. After I was kidnapped, Dad tried to make me do children's therapy and but I instead defied everything the therapist said and Gideon's wife suggested PTSD medication."

"You were kidnapped when you were twelve?" Garcia asked, aghast.

"I don't remember any of it. And it's not the time for me to remember it." Zoe said, sharply as if trying to drill that into their brains and she didn't want to talk about it.

"Now, medication normally requires a reimbursement from the HMO and since she works for the government like we do, we share the same health care provider." Garcia said as Zoe took out her phone and started to hack Garcia's computer as ease.

"Are you hacking into the government's HMO database?" Spencer asked. "Is that legal?"

"Of course not. We'll both go to prison and you'll be someone's bitch." Garcia said. Oh, how she will regret that in twelve years. As a certain someone really rubs that in.

"Really?" Spencer asked, blankly.

"Mmm. If that ever happens, I think you'll feel like the bitch yourself. Having been to prison myself, I know you wouldn't last a week, Garcia. That's why you took this job. They don't allow unicorns." Zoe deadpanned and then she slapped Garcia's hands.

"Hey!"

"I'm a medical doctor, Garcia, unlike Mister three-PhDs here. I have access." Zoe said, typing on her phone and it brought up the HMO database on Garcia's computer.

"How'd you do that?"

"I hacked into your computer." Zoe said, blankly.

"When?" Garcia asked, seeming floored.

"Uh, like twenty seconds ago." Zoe said, "You are aware I'm the one who caught you and made the profile when you were a criminal and goth, right?

"No! How'd you do that so easily?"

"I'm a better hacker, I guess. And who do you think was the technical analysis before you? Only you get paid and as I was a child, I was not. I know these computers as well as a UnSub's mind. Look."

Zoe had been controlling the computer remotely and Garcia saw it and chose to let go for the time but to complain about it at length to Morgan later.

"Good call, Reid. Mrs. Reese Miller, Diazepam."

"Who prescribed the meds?" Spencer asked.

"Doctor R. Howard at the Applewood Family Center. Let's find out what he looks like. Here we go." A picture of a woman came up. "Doctor Howard isn't a 'he'."

"Thanks, Garcia." Zoe said, sarcastically.

"Well, how about I hack into your file!" Garcia said, pettily and then attempted to but like with most of the FBI files, they were wiped clean. "What!? How!?"

Zoe patted her on the head and walked out of the office. Spencer watched her walk out.

—————————————————————————————

Hotch, Morgan, Alexander, and Gideon went to Doctor Howard's place of work and learned the the UnSub's name was Karl Arnold.

"Of course." Zoe sighed.

"What?" Spencer asked.

"He was the child therapist I went to. He had me draw houses but there was something off about him. So naturally I sassed and defied him as much as I could. I kept drawing upside down houses or ones from books or H.H. Holmes' murder hotel. " Zoe said.

—————————————————————————————

Zoe met up with Gideon and Morgan at the next family's house, the Dunkins, on her motorcycle. The SWAT used a thermal camera to see into the house through the closed curtains. "We've got three adults and two children sitting at the dining room table. They moved in, stealthily and they kicked the door in.

"FBI! FBI!"

Jackie, the young daughter ran into the mother's arms and the mother cried, "He's got my baby!" The father was all bound and gagged.

"Ma'am, is he alone?" Morgan asked.

"Yes, he is!"

"Where's the basement?" Gideon asked.

"Under the stairs!"

Zoe took off running even when the lights went off, Karl's doing no doubt. She opened the door beneath the stairs and walked down without the flashlight. There was enough light coming through the window from her. Gideon and Morgan soon followed

"Karl? Karl, it's the FBI." Morgan called through the darkness.

He nearly jumped when he shined it on Zoe's face.

"What the... why didn't you have a flashlight?"

"Don't need it." She said, moving through the darkness of the basement.

Suddenly she clicked the flashlight on and spun around, shining the light on Karl Arnold who shushed them as he swaddled the baby, smirking.

"Karl, why don't you give me the baby?" Zoe said, calmly, approaching as she was the smallest, youngest, and less intimidating-looking, it had been years since she saw him. She saw him when she was twelve but he had creeped her out so she left to return to Harvard where her best school friend had helped more than any therapist had, and you couldn't really argue with her because she was held captive for eight months

"Karl? Please."

Karl glared at her as she approached slowly, side-stepping, he recognized her but she had to try.

That's odd, she noted, the baby wasn't crying. Her eyes darted down and she spotted him smothering the baby. He was suffocating him.

"Karl, get your hand off the baby's mouth." She said with more authority, a note of danger in her tone.

He slowly did so and the baby started to cry.

"Okay, good. Karl, look at me. I'm gonna put my gun away... and I want you to hand me that baby." She said gently as the baby screamed and cried.

Karl slowly stood back up as Zoe holstered her gun at the same speed and held out her arms, approaching slowly. "Give me the baby."

Then he got a deadly glint in his eyes and threw the baby at them.

"NO!" Zoe screamed and caught the baby as Karl went to fight. He brandished a knife at Morgan as Zoe handed the screaming baby to Gideon and she took out her gun.

BANG!

The bullet grazed Karl's neck.

"The next one stays in you." She threatened.

"You look familiar." He said with a somewhat mockingly curious lilt of his voice.

"Stay there."

"Have I treated you before?" He pretended to remember, "Xiomara or are you Zarah? Both left the house in February of 2001, didn't come back home to your FBI daddy."

"Shut up." She growled.

"You showed up eight months later, thinner and paler than you were before, cut and bloodied but your sister... never found. You never accepted that she was dead because of you."

Morgan slammed Karl against the wall by the throat, "You move or say one more word to her and I will break your neck."

—————————————————————————————

Zoe arrived back at the BAU before them in time, to set up the board just as Gideon had asked and wait for them.

Morgan angrily clutched the chained Karl's arm as they directed him out of the elevator.

"How'd you get here so fast?" He asked.

"Motorcycle."

"You shouldn't ride a motorcycle. They're death machines." Karl said with mocking sincerity.

"Shut up!" Morgan hissed at him, yanking him past Zoe who followed.

He was friendly to everyone he saw as if he hadn't just tried to smother a baby but they all stared at him. When he got to the glaring JJ he asked, "How are you?"

"Keep it moving." Morgan said, pulling him past JJ and Zoe and Gideon stopped

"Did he say anything?" JJ asked.

"No." Gideon said.

"Nothing helpful." Zoe said.

"Can we tie him forensically to the other crimes?" Gideon asked.

Negative on foreign DNA. He must've washed Crawford's clothes." JJ sighed.

"Then we'll need a confession." Zoe said.

"Can you get one?" JJ asked.

"Did you do what I asked?" Gideon asked Zoe.

"Yeah. He won't be able to help himself." Zoe said and went to join Morgan.

—————————————————————————————

Zoe and Gideon sat across from Karl in the interrogation room while Morgan stood.

"Emily Crawford was a very talented and gifted girl. Her brother Sam, a bright, energetic child. You watched them from the yard for days, maybe even weeks. You learned everything about them. You studied their every move and then you wrote it all down." Gideon said but Karl seemed more interested in staring at the board Zoe had set up.

"May I have a glass of water?" Karl asked.

"Something wrong?" Zoe asked with no politeness in her voice.

"No, I'm just thirsty."

"Water, please." Gideon told Morgan.

Karl held up his shackled hands, "could you remove my shackles? I'm clearly no threat to you."

"Do you think we're stupid? They stay on. You just killed two families and were about to kill another and you threw a one-year-old baby at us." Zoe scoffed.

A uniformed officer handed Morgan a cup of water and he placed it in front of Karl.

"You chose families that reminded you of the one you lost." Gideon said as Karl drank his water.

"You stalked them. You bound them. You terrorized them. And once you knew if they weren't seen soon, people would get suspicious, so you killed them, one by one, making the dads watch so they would suffer, watching their families leave them like you did. " Zoe said, "We have your journals. Your serial killer memoirs. You aren't the only one who learned about me during our sessions, even at twelve I was a pretty damn good detective."

"It's my job..." Karl sighed, "to write everything down. To get to know them. I can't help them solve their problems without knowing background. And I make home visits... sometimes without their knowledge because people lie. You, of all people, should know that."

"Yeah, well, you're supposed to talk with them until they understand their emotions and open up to you, you don't stalk them. Sometimes people aren't aware of the psychological trauma and toxicity families can inflict on one another." Zoe said.

Gideon held up a picture of the Miller family and then of the Crawford family.

Karl nodded and looked pointedly at the first family he had killed, "Eric Miller was a terrible husband and father. Allison Crawford hemorrhaged money her husband didn't have. It can strain any marriage."

"That doesn't mean they had to die." Zoe said, darkly.

Gideon held up a picture of Karl with his wife and his kids, he got a somewhat annoyed look in his sociopathic eyes like, are we really bringing my family up? Isn't the psychology of what I did and its connection to my family close enough.

"On the surface, this looks like any family, USA. Two parent households, two kids, a boy and a girl. If you look a little closer, you'll see their body language tells a different story." Karl seemed to be increasingly annoyed at them pointing out the flaws of his failed marriage, "the woman and children are distant from the man. Their smiles are stiff. Their eyes are frightened. Every hair is in place, wearing their Sunday best, their own private hell being memorialized on film."

"Eric wasn't perfect at being a husband but he grew up with constant abuse from his biological and foster parents. That normalized violence in his subconscious mind and only came out when he was drunk. Sure, it's a shitty thing to do but that's what therapy is for. Not with therapists like you, good ones who didn't murder people because he judged them. He never hurt his kids. He loved his kids and because of you, not only did he grow up with constant abuse and feeling no love but he's forever traumatized with the images of finding his son and his daughter's bloodied bodies. You put him through what you went through but worse. Your children are still alive but you hurt them with your obsessiveness and need for control." Zoe monologued, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

"What about your mother? You never had a mother figure."

"I don't hold a family hostage to make up for the mother who died because of someone like you."

He looked at the photos and squirmed uncomfortably but not from what he had done but from what Zoe had done... with the pictures.

"You okay?" Gideon asked.

"It isn't right."

"What isn't?"

"YOU'VE GOT THE PICTURES MIXED UP!" He screamed. "The one in the middle. That is Sam Crawford's. It should be Ty Miller's! You need... to swap them. You need to make it right."

Zoe recalled Clara's OCD and how Karl's matched up with the symptoms just as she previously theorized.

Gideon stood up and pointed to the picture of Sam Crawford's corpse's child-like foot. "This one here?"

"What the hell have I been trying to tell you?" Karl scoffed as if they were the insane ones when he held families hostage, pretending to be their "daddy" to compensate for the marriage he screwed up.

"You're right. They're switched." Gideon admitted with more calmness than Karl. "This is Sam Crawford's foot with the Miller family. But how did you know that, Karl?"

He looked at Zoe who gave him an innocent look. She had switched them, knowing he would have the near uncontrollable urge to correct them. He had confessed to the crime because they had no concrete proof that he had killed the Crawfords and Millers as he was going to do to the Dunkens. So he explained as they recorded him.

"And I watched them for a number of days, always at night. Saw how they lived. How they loved. I would keep them apart... until the last night. Till the last supper. Then I would bring them one by one. Down to the basement." As he spoke J.J. switched the photos on their board, according to the serial killer's confession, "The youngest first." He looked at Zoe, who had been the youngest of her family before it got messed up. "The father last."

"Why, Karl?" Morgan asked.

"So he could see..." His voice broke but not out of remorse but out of hurt of the ending of his family, "What happens to families when the head of the household... isn't strong. Wives wither. Children perish." JJ and Gideon started to pack up the crime evidence. "But me? I'm an excellent father.

"One family member isn't the strongest. There is no Alpha. They're strongest together. Strong where they're weak, Karl. Omegas don't last long alone but as a pack, that's how they're at their strongest." Zoe said.

—————————————————————————————

Hotch had found tapes of more than the two families, not only were there the Miller family, the Crawford family, but also the Ness family and the Linford family, and the Kegan family.

In a rusted box were the trophies...

They all sat at a table that the box laid on and Gideon emptied the box onto the table, revealing eight wedding rings. Six families they weren't aware of. This comes out to thirty-two victims if he kept the same M.O., and half of them were children.

—————————————————————————————

*Sorry, this is super late to my like zero fans of this work but I like this story and Zoe will evolve as a character and so will her relationship with Spencer... very slowly. At first, I was nervous about this chapter, I guess because of the content, this was the first Criminal Minds episode that really affected me because I had watched crime shows before but like, Lucifer, the Flash, etc. When kids were in danger, they always survived in the end but I guess that's one of the things that makes Criminal Minds different. Then I had to email my college because I hadn't been accepted yet and by the time he had accepted me, it was too late to enroll so I took another class at community college and then that class started but then a few weeks in, I was dropped because the financial aid study thing I was taking, general had been recently dropped and I had like no warning about it. Then we decided I'd just do other things for class like online and then the Mothman Festival came up and I had tickets to go see Watcher Ghost Files Live and that was just a few days ago. I've continued writing, I'm almost done with Unfinished Business and then I just forgot I hadn't been posting them. *

#the eccedentiast #david tennant #selena gomez #criminal minds #spencer reid #2005 #valentía #zoe noble-valdez #aaron “hotch” hotchner #derek morgan #Karl Arnold #The Fox #Penelope Garcia #jason gideon #November 2005 #Xiomara Noble-Valdez

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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 6 months ago

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Valentía: Extreme Aggressor

Season One Masterlist

Previous: Prologue Part Two

Next: Compulsion

Summary: SSA Jason Gideon is called in from his six month medical leave to return to the BAU to go to Seattle to profile a rapist and killer and save his latest victim after she goes missing.

Warning: Typical Criminal Minds warnings; UnSub is a rapist-killer; References to rape; References to murder; Descriptions of PTSD; Mention of real-life serial killer, Countess Elizabeth Báthory; "Supernatural" References

“PTSD: It’s not the person refusing to let go of the past, but the past refusing to let go of the person.”

September 21, 2005

"Zoe Valdez", as she was known around the office, wrote in her crime book, writing her own profile on the killer of Countess Elizabeth Báthory when her phone rang.

"Hello..." She mumbled.

"We have a case and we need Gideon."

Zoe fell off the couch, "Gideon's coming back?" She grinned.

"Don't worry, he knows how you want to be known around the office."

——————————————————————————————————

BAU — Behavior Analysis Training

FBI, Quantico, Virginia

One of the founders of the BAU, Jason Gideon, six months after leaving the BAU on medical leave, was teaching a class of those who may be FBI agents one day.

He clicked through the faces of the victims of the recently caught Footpath Killer (as of six and a half months ago), the victims were always the least known part of serial killer stories

"Anyone recognize these faces?" Gideon asked.

"Victims of the Footpath Killer." A student answered.

"That's what Virginia newspapers are calling him. We refer to him as the Unknown Subject or Unsub. I told Virginia P.D. they're looking for a white male in his twenties, who owns an American made truck in disrepair. Works a menial job. I told 'em, when you find him, don't be surprised if he speaks with a severe stutter." He explained.

A girl raised her pencil-holding hand and voiced, "Not to sound skeptical, but come on... a stutter?"

"Where'd the murders occur?" Gideon asked and realization slowly occurred to the girl as he continued to explain what a young genius he had known since birth had suggested, "Hiking paths. Isolated. If I'm a killer who has to use an immediate application of overpowering force, even out in the middle of nowhere, I lack confidence. I can't charm them into my car like Ted Bundy did. I can't because I am ashamed of something."

Gideon's serial killer class was interrupted when a quite pretty twenty-three-year-old boy with gelled down brown hair and brown-hazel eyes, held up a case file and tapped it. Gideon's protege, Doctor Spencer Reid, the smartest guy Gideon had ever met.

"Excuse me." He told the class and walked out with Spencer, "They're calling him the 'Seattle Strangler'. Four victims in four months. He keeps 'em alive seven days. The handle serves as a crank." He and Gideon looked at a photo of a recent victim.

"Allowing him to control the rate of suffocation." Gideon deduced.

"To prolong it?" Spencer asked.

"To enjoy it." Gideon corrected, "Seattle's hit a wall?"

"Physical evidence is nonexistent. There are no tangible leads."

"And another girl is missing." Gideon said and he entered an office, looking over the case, "I looked the case file over. I'll get some thoughts to you ASAP."

Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner and Derek Morgan entered with the former saying, "you're gonna be with us in Seattle ASAP."

Gideon looked up at the man who now held his former job title of Unit Chief and he took off his glasses.

Morgan held out a picture of a young girl with red hair, "Twenty-two-year-old Heather Woodland."

"Before she left for lunch, she downloaded an email with a time-delayed virus attached. The killer's virus wiped her hard drive and left this on the screen." Hotch said and handed Gideon a printed screenshot with a familiar messy colored hand-writing at the bottom.

"For heaven's sake catch me before I kill more. I cannot control myself."

The hand written note scrawled out the words: William Heirens (Lipstick Killer) December 10, 1945, the second victim, Frances Brown's apartment.

"Uh, Valdez, the new girl that Hotch hired wrote that." Spencer said, gesturing.

Gideon looked at Hotch and knew that meant Zoe.

"He never keeps them for more than seven days which means we have fewer than thirty-six hours to find her." Hotch said.

"They want you back in the saddle. You ready?" Morgan asked.

"Looks like medical leave's over, boss." Spencer said.

"They sure, they want me? You guys have Alexander and… Valdez." He, like Hotch, knew Zoe’s real identity as Alexander’s daughter, having been the second person to hold her after the stressful event that was her birth.

They all looked at him, they all knew, Alexander... well, he was about as crazy as the UnSubs they caught.

"The order came from the director." Hotch nodded

Gideon turned, dramatically, "Then we'd better get started."

——————————————————————————————————

Gideon got out of the car with his go bag and walked towards the BAU jet as Alexander, a forty-year-old man with messy brown hair, stuck his head out, "Ah, Jason. Welcome back."

"Alexander."

Gideon entered the jet to see what he should've expected, Zoe Noble-Valdez had notes all around her and stuck on the walls and there were several stuck in her hair that was streaked with light green and headphones over her ears.

"Of course." Gideon said as Zoe wrote rapidly, having always been an over-achiever due to her brilliant mind and constant need to be doing something especially in the past four years.

Spencer, Morgan, and Hotch got on the jet.

"Jason Gideon, meet our newest recruit, Doctor Zoe Valdez." It hurt the father, only referring to his daughter by his late girlfriend's name but this was what Zoe wanted.

"Zoe." Spencer said, passing her and pulling her headphones off, letting the distant sound of her audiobook be heard.

Zoe looked up, pausing the audiobook and smiled, widely.

"SSA Jason Gideon, nice to see you again." She said, acting as if he hadn't known her since before she was born, as if he hadn't mentored and worked with her mother.

"You know, Agent Valdez." He said, playing along and shaking her hand.

"You two have already met?" Morgan asked.

Zoe looked at him, keeping her cool and said, "Yes." She sat back down, "That is technically true."

Truth was Gideon was like a second father to her along with retired Agent David Rossi but Gideon had more of a healthy idea on what's appropriate to read to a three-year-old child before bed rather than a grisly unsolved crime case as Rossi had gotten bored of children books with no twists or plots and Zoe had annoyed Alexander into doing it.

"How did you get all this done? We were gone for half an hour." Morgan said.

"It's not my fault that you're ordinary and your thoughts go at a normal speed." She smiled.

"How's she doing so far?" Gideon asked Hotch and Alexander.

"Pretty good for a nineteen-year-old." Hotch admitted, "Other than her being, reckless, rebellious, a little violent, refuses to oblige the dress code. Pretty much everything I predicted.”

"Pretty good? My angel is the best agent since her mother." Alexander whispered, proudly as he watched Zoe and Spencer compare notes.

——————————————————————————————————

"His first victim was twenty-six-year-old Melissa Kirsh." Zoe said, "Stab wounds. Strangulation."

“Wait, wait. Back up. Back up.” Morgan interrupted the young medical doctor.

Holding his hands out in front of him, stopping her from continuing.

“He stabbed her, and then he strangled her to finish her off?”

“No.” Zoe deadpanned.

“Other way around.” Gideon corrected and he turned to his two proteges, "Why do you think he started using the belt with the second murder?"

“Strangulation with your bare hands is not as easy as one would believe.” Zoe said, "About four-point-four to eleven pounds of pressure."

"He tried, probably realized it took too long..." Spencer speculated.

"So he stabbed her instead." Morgan finished.

“And realized it would be hours cleaning up the blood.” Hotch said.

“Next time, our boy’s got a method—the belt.” Derek said.

“He’s learning, perfecting his scenario. He's learning from his mistakes like the Reaper," Hotch shifted and Alexander flinched, giving Zoe an unreadable glance, "did when his call to 911 actually led to his only surviving victim's survival.” Zoe said, “becoming a better killer.

——————————————————————————————————

They arrived at the FBI Northwest Field Office in Seattle, Washington. They were held back due to Zoe having more weapons than most would think possible on her person at the security check.

"What's wrong with you? Why do you have so many weapons?" Morgan asked as Zoe finally made it through and looked at him.

He never stands with his back to a window and was reholstering most of her weapons. She looked at Morgan with a guarded look in her eyes, "My dad was an overprotective and paranoid guy." She said, vaguely. She never said much about her parents but plenty about her terrifying family which seemed to mostly consist of badass women and valued a variety of Zoe's attributes and feminism.

Zoe walked with Morgan and Spencer when Morgan nudged the older genius, "He never stands with his back to the window. When I was between him and a doorway, he asked me to move."

"That's hyper vigilance. It's not uncommon in post traumatic stress disorder.

"Also paranoia; trust issues; vivid flashbacks; intrusive thoughts and/or images; nightmares; intense distress; physical sensations such as pain, sweating, nausea, or trembling. There's also categories of the different types of symptoms and the symptoms those symptoms have."

"I know what symptoms PTSD causes, Zoe!" Morgan snapped.

"I don't think you do. You most likely had been ignoring yours for years, more than a decade I bet." She said, blankly.

"Don't profile me." Morgan pointed a finger at Zoe who looked at him with a bored deadpan expression. "Just how much disorder are we talking about?"

"Morgan, it's been six months." Hotch said, "Everything's okay."

"Yeah, fuck off, Morgan." Zoe said.

"That's not what I said." Hotch said.

"Essentially it was." She said and Hotch just continued onwards with Spencer, being painfully awkward. “Just because you ignored the trauma your past caused you, doesn't mean Gideon will heal just as quickly." Zoe said.

Morgan was trained not to react when surprised but being off-guard, his eyes widened only briefly before his face went back to neutral but with panic, confusion, and mild curiosity in his eyes. "What trauma?" He asked, defensively which only further confirmed her profile she had unwilling been making over the past six months.

"You're guarded, unwilling to trust that people’ve got your back as well as you've got yours, and protective. You grew up with an absent father and given that he was a officer too, it's likely he was killed in the line of duty. Your compassion for the wounded tells me that maybe you witnessed it. And I'm sorry for that. You were then betrayed by a father issue not too long after." Zoe said and she noticed Morgan stiffen in fear and anger for said father figure and the idea of this nineteen-year-old that he wasn't sure if he fully trusted yet finding out, "I can't quite and am unwilling to deduce the specifics because that's personal and I am already overstepping, I'm aware of that. But you got out and you moved on to make sure that as few people as possible experience what you did." Zoe said with absolutely no effort whatsoever. "Not many people are that strong. They let it control their life. Not you though. Not only did you get out but you're making a difference."

She gave him a hesitant, small smile that only lasted about a second or two with a semi-warmth to it which was more than he had gotten from her in six months and then she walked after Hotch and Spencer.

Alexander walked past Morgan, pretending to have not heard anything with a small, proud smile on his face for his daughter's kindness, even if she tried to hide it.

Hotch introduced the team as they walked, "This is special agent Gideon, special agent Morgan, our expert on obsessional crimes, special agent Noble, special agent Reid..."

"Doctor Reid." Gideon and Alexander corrected.

Doctor Reid, our expert on well, everything, and special agent—Doctor Valdez, our expert on missing persons and medical knowledge and pretty much everything Reid may not know. And after two years busting my butt in this office, I hope you all remember me."

And people laughed. His systems must've malfunctioned.

They looked at the murder board and Gideon observed, "He's willing to travel with the body."

"Then he drives a vehicle capable of concealing one." Hotch added.

"One in seven-point-four drivers in Seattle own an SUV." Spencer reasoned.

"Explorer with tinted windows." Morgan suggested.

"Explorers rate higher with women."

But how do we know it's his car?" Morgan asked.

Ted Bundy drove a VW Bug."

"A what?" Zoe asked. She was more of a motorcycle girl than a car girl. She had a Marine Turbine Technology Y2K motorcycle that she had modified, it went above the average speed of one and was silent due to her modifications, she rode it when they were racing to an UnSub’s location and was usually able to stall or even take down the UnSub.

"Volswagen Beetle." Alexander clarified as Zoe, despite being such a tomboy she considered herself to count as a boy in the boy's club of the team (apart from J.J. and Penelope Garcia, the latter rarely ever traveling with them).

"What about a Jeep Cherokee?

"Jeeps are more masculine." Reid said.

"Yeah, doesn't mean he has one." Zoe said.

"We all know how an unsub feels about asserting his masculinity." Alexander said.

"That's a good point." Zoe muttered before turning to the closest detective, "Most male rapists are insecure about their masculinity and feel the need to assert their dominance as men over women—they also tend to have insulting and distorted views on women—or feel the need to be reassured in their masculinity by raping women, because men are the worst, meaning their insecurities are often present in their behavior."

Zoe raised her eyebrows as if asking anyone to question her but no one dared do so.

"When did the bureau become involved in the case?" Hotch said, ignoring her.

"After the fourth body." The ASAC (Assistant Special Agent in Charge) said.

"Sondra Watts, taken August sixth, killed and dumped August thirteenth." Zoe said, humanizing the deceased victim as she tended to do.

"He dumped that one out of state.”

"On purpose." Hotch added.

"If so, knowledge of law enforcement does suggest a criminal record.”

"Or that he watches television."

"Television usually is widely inaccurate and is based on assumptions and beliefs caused by television. He'd have slipped up by now. Maybe he's law enforcement..." Zoe mused.

"Are you accusing the local police?" Someone asked accusingly.

"There are other law enforcement jobs than police, you know." Alexander snapped, barely restraining himself. How dare someone speak to his little girl like that.

Zoe gave her father a side look and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, or maybe he's associated with law enforcement but not necessarily law enforcement." Zoe suggested.

"Like a prison guard or something." Alexander said with a bitter undertone.

"May I?" Morgan asked.

"So you wanna see our suspect list?" The ASAC asked.

"No, we won't look at a suspect list until after we come up with a profile. It keeps our perspective unbiased." Hotch explained.

"When do we sit down with your task force?" Gideon asked.

"Four o'clock." Another agent said.

“An accurate profile by four o'clock today?" Morgan asked.

"That's not a problem." Gideon said and walked to another board.

"Agent Gideon, where would you like to start?" Hotch asked, still used to taking orders from him.

Gideon pointed at a picture, "Let's start at the site of the last murder."

"Do we have a list of those Heather Woodland is related and close to?" Zoe asked.

"Yes," A detective said and produced a list.

Zoe looked over it, "David Woodland, who's that?"

"Her brother. He was the one to report her missing. He's at her house, watching her dog."

"Alright, I'm going to go interview the brother." Zoe declared.

"Uh, not alone you're not!" Alexander scolded, with more emotion than a supervisor would to a new agent. Zoe turned around and gave him a deadpan look that only someone who knew her longer than six months could detect the hint of a glare she was giving him like, don't fucking treat me like a child. I'm a big girl, Dad. “You’re around the same age as the victims.”

“I can take care of myself.” Zoe said, stubbornly.

"Reid and I'll go with her." Hotch said before Alexander did any more damage to Zoe's request that their relationship as father and daughter remain secret for now.

"As long as he doesn't drive." Zoe said, jabbing her thumb at Spencer.

"Deal." Hotch agreed in his usual deadpan, walking past her.

"What's wrong with the way I drive?" Spencer asked, genuinely.

Morgan made a sound between a scoff of disbelief and a snort of amusement.

"Because you drive like a grandma." Zoe quipped, "Come on, Boy Genius."

——————————————————————————————————

At the dumping site, Gideon walked off, observing the crime scene as an officer asked the group, consisting of other officers, Morgan, and Alexander, "so that's Gideon? The Gideon. The one who caught that guy, Adrian Baal, in Boston.

"Yep. That's him. But catching him cost us six agents." Morgan said.

"Gideon, he... he's always been haunted by those he can't save so that hit him pretty hard." Alexander said.

"You co-founded the BAU with him, right?"

"Yeah."

"You, him, and that famous writer, Rossi, and someone else. A woman."

"Zelena." Alexander said, "yeah."

"Didn't you marry her or something?"

"No. No. We never married. Never had the chance. I fell in love with her immediately... when she judo-flipped me. then straddled me, and pressed her forearm against my throat. She took a while, given my... my Bipolar and ADHD but she did and in January of 1985, we learned she was pregnant, then found out it was twins—both girls..."

For a lot of fathers, the day of their child's birth are the happiest days of their lives, even better than their wedding days. Alexander's father didn't see that for Alexander or his younger sister. Alexander's oldest twin daughter, Zarah had been born normally but then... the job really did wreak havoc on his life and Zoe had been born with a number of complications from the circumstances to her health.

"How are they?"

"Oh, they're-they're good.” Alexander mumbled, knowing only where one was as he walked out where Gideon was.

"Twenty-two-year-old Anne Cushing was found right here. Nails clipped just like the others." Alexander said and handed Gideon a picture, "He wants them to fight back."

"But not enough to hurt him. And he left the belt around her neck." Gideon stated as Morgan joined them, "He's probably in his early twenties."

"What's your reasoning?" Morgan asked.

"Youthful arrogance." Was all Gideon said as according to Zoe applied to Morgan.

Morgan sighed, "He clothed the body before dumping it."

"That's a sign of remorse." Gideon said.

"It's not consistent. Look where we are. His opinion of women is pretty clear, don't you think?" Morgan opinionized.

"They're disposable." Alexander scowled, every time the killer's M.O. was even vaguely associated with his girls—he couldn't help but fear and imagine that they were the next victim. Zoe was technically half-Caucasian-Scottish but also half Hispanic but that didn't matter to a single parent of two girls both with childhoods filled with trauma and danger.

"Why show remorse by taking the time to dress her but then dump her here?" Morgan asked.

——————————————————————————————————

Hotch, Spencer, and Zoe were in Heather Woodland's house, let in by her brother, David.

Heather's labrador barked up at Spencer who flinched back.

"Sandy, no, no, no." David scolded the dog and apologized to the agents, "I'm so sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's what we call the Reid effect. Happens with children, too." Zoe snarked, Spencer gave her an unamused look.

"I'm Agent Hotchner. This is special agent Doctor Reid and this is special agent Valdez."

"You both look too young to have gone to medical school." David noted.

"They're PhD's. Three of them." Spencer replied.

"Are you a genius or something?" David asked.

"I-I-I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified—but I do have an I.Q. of one-eighty-seven and an eidetic memory and can read twenty thousand words per minute." Spencer said and David stared at him, “Yes, I'm a genius.”

"Actually, I'm the medical doctor." Zoe said as she wandered around the room.

"Are you a genius too?" David asked and triggered Zoe to go on an absent-minded unintentional brag.

"Well, I never took an official IQ test because I believe tests are bias towards only two kinds of intelligences but it's been estimated to be quite high as I have an auditory memory, I finished high school when I was sixteen, could've done so when I was nine or ten but... circumstances. I was seventeen when I finished medical school." Zoe babbled.

"Seventeen?"

"Yeah, I started getting college degrees when I was six, technically graduated from Princeton, Yale, CalTech, MIT, etc. before age twelve."

"How many degrees do you have?"

"Twenty-four."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen. I turn twenty next month.”

“But—how-how…”

“I was fully able to comprehend basic language and things like death before six months old, I was fluent in Spanish and English by twelve months. I started taking college classes along with normal kindergarten classes at age five..."

"Zoe, you're doing it again." Hotch interrupted.

"Oh." Zoe blushed, "I'm sorry. I'm ADHD and Cyclothymic, mildly Bipolar, I tend to get distracted and it's a bit difficult to filter my constant thoughts. Uh, May I?" Zoe asked, referring to Sandy.

"Oh, yeah." David nodded.

Zoe crouched down and petted the dog, "You know my family back in Mexico breed Xoloitzcuintle dogs.”

“Is that a breed?”

“Yeah, they’re the national dog of Mexico.”

“I thought that was chihuahuas.”

Zoe ignored this comment. “Xoloitzcuintle are rare nowadays and Mexicans believe they have spiritual abilities.” She went back to petting Sandy, “Sandy, you get a lot of attention, don't you?"

"Yeah, Heather loves this dog. I feed her when Heather's away. Usually, she's fine, but lately, she won't eat. It's almost like she can sense something's wrong." David worried.

"Not sense. Smell. Our apocrine sweat gland releases secretions in response to emotional stress." Spencer explained.

"Uh, translation: Sandy's worried because she knows you are." Zoe said, standing up.

"David, does your sister drive a Datsun Z?" Spencer asked.

"No, but she's in the market for one. How'd you know?" David asked and Spencer showed him a magazine displaying that car, then Sandy barked, "Come on, Sandy." He took Sandy out.

Hotch and Zoe joined Spencer, "There's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller, a level of trust. If I want to coax a young woman into my car..." Spencer theorized.

"Offer her a test drive." Zoe finished, "That's really smart, Spence."

——————————————————————————————————

Back at the field office, Morgan was pacing, Spencer and Zoe were spinning in their swivel chairs as Zoe sucked on an apple-flavored dum-dum.

"Okay, then how about the fact that on one hand, we have paranoid psychosis... but the autopsy protocol says what?" Morgan asked.

"Adhesive residue shows he put layer after layer of duct tape over his victims' eyes." Zoe recited after pulling the dum-dum out of her mouth with a pop!

"He knows he wants to kill them, but he still covers their eyes. He doesn't want 'em looking at him, apparently. Okay, but then he takes the body and dumps it right out in the open, murder weapon nearby."

Zoe turned to Gideon, noting his tense posture and being ADHD, she had hypersensitivity, also known as being a "highly sensitive person" (HSP), which meant she was more empathetic than the average neurotypical person and being raised around profilers plus her own studying and intuition meant she could pick up on what others didn’t and completely missed what everyone else did.

"Not the M.O. of a paranoid convinced he's being watched or surveilled." Spencer said. Twelve minutes in and we're already foreshadowing.

"Paranoid psychosis, but behavior that's not paranoid." Morgan argued.

"Maybe he's schizophrenic." Hotch asked.

"Gideon?" Zoe asked but got no response, "Gideon?"

"Maybe we just don't have enough for a complete profile." Morgan said, pessimistically, as always.

"We have enough to narrow our list of suspects." Hotch said. "You know, we're looking at less than twelve hours to find this woman. We don't know exactly what..."

"Hotch, we don't know anything!" Morgan shouted.

"Gideon!?" Zoe said, loudly.

"All right, enough." Gideon said, quieting the room and Zoe put the dum-dum back into her mouth and started to half spin her chair before using her feet to make her go the other way, never fully spinning around. "Let's tell them we're ready." Then he walked off as Alexander entered with the coffee (and in Zoe's case highly caffeinated Mexican hot chocolate) orders.

"We're ready?" Morgan asked in disbelief as Alexander placed the cup holder tray on the table—Zoe and Spencer taking their respective cups at once—and Alexander followed Hotch after Gideon.

Zoe took a big sip of her hot chocolate and then leaned onto the table to write down a copy of the profile they never really discussed.

"Reid. Zoe. You're good with this? We've got a woman who's only got a few hours left to live, an incomplete profile, and a unit chief on the verge of a nervous breakdown." Morgan complained.

Gideon came in and picked up something as he said the same thing as Zoe, "They don't call them nervous breakdowns anymore."

"Grandma Morgan." Zoe had added, snarkily as Gideon left.

"It's called a major depressive episode." Spencer said, getting back to writing.

"I know, Reid." Morgan snapped.

"Are you sure? Do you know what year it is, gramps?"

"Okay." Morgan said and walked out.

Zoe’s phone rang and she saw her caller ID, reading, MD.

She brought the phone up to her ear as she spoke to her friend, “Hey. MD, seriously, I’m fine. We’re just about to deliver the profile. Well, you’re not a profiler. I know. I know, you are. Alright, I’ll call you back later.”

——————————————————————————————————

Gideon stood in the middle of the room before getting to the profile.

"The unidentified subject is white and in his late twenties. He's someone you wouldn't notice at first. He's someone who'd blend into any crowd. The violent nature of the crime suggests a previous criminal record—petty crimes. Maybe auto theft. We've classified him as an organized killer—careful. Psychopathic as opposed to psychotic. He follows the news, has good hygiene. He's smart. 'Cause he's smart, the only physical evidence you'll find is what he wants you to find. He's mobile, car in good condition. Our guess—Jeep Cherokee, tinted windows. The murders have all involved rapes. But rape without penetration is a form of piquerism, and that tells us he's sexually inadequate. Psychiatric evaluations will show a history of paranoia stemming from a childhood trauma—death of a parent or family member. And now he feels persecuted and watched. Murder gives him a sense of power. Organized killers have a fascination with law enforcement. They will inject themselves into the investigation. They will even come forward as witnesses to see just how much the police really know. That makes them feel powerful, in control. Which is why I also think—in fact, I know—you have already interviewed him."

——————————————————————————————————

They had an officer with the Seattle FBI agent lure a suspect named Richard Slessman into a nearby house where they tackled him to the ground.

Slessman looked like a near-incompetent monster hunter with a lame catchphrase that was just their first name as a verb that would get bitten by a werewolf with dead eyes. As in Slessman had dead eyes, not the werewolf.

They searched Slessman's house as others spoke to the woman who had opened the door for the previously mentioned agent.

"There's no sign of Heather here." Zoe said after jumping over the banister to make room for the agents

"We can arrest him with probable cause, but we won't be able to hold him. Slessman's been at the top of the suspect list." Spencer added.

“Is that the mother?" Gideon asked.

The agent came up to them, "Grandmother. The mother died in a fire when he was thirteen."

“Probably not the only fire in his childhood.” Zoe said.

She looked to Spencer and Zoe, "Hi, Agent Elle Greenaway."

"Special Agent Doctor Zoe Valdez. I prefer Zoe." Zoe shook her hand while Spencer awkwardly and clumsily shifted past them, trying to not make any physical contact with them. "That's Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid. He doesn't understand social interactions while I understand them a little better but despise them."

Elle chuckled and they walked with Gideon and Spencer as

“Before his Son of Sam murders, David Berkowitz set a multitude of fires.” Spencer said.

"Exactly how much is a multitude?" Morgan asked.

"A multitude." Zoe sassed. Morgan wasn't amused. "A multitude is a multitude many. More than one."

"Zoe's the second snarker on the team. The first is Alexander Noble." Gideon told Elle.

"According to his diary, one thousand-four hundred and..." He trailed off, trying to search through his memories.

"Eighty-eight." Elle and Zoe said.

"Luring him out was your idea, right? Greenway? " Gideon asked.

"Elle. I don't send a SWAT team into a house with children." Elle stated.

"Hotch says your background is in sex offender cases. What can you tell us?" Gideon asked.

"The last four murders show he's an anger-excitation rapist. He'll keep a victim for a couple of days. He probably records or videotapes them so that he can keep reliving the fantasy."

Zoe balled her fists, her fingernails digging in her palms.

"You ok with Hotch being in on the interview?" Gideon continued.

"I'd like him to lead, actually." Elle said.

"Fine. But hold off. Slessman's done time, and he knows the process. And all you will get now is a demand for a lawyer." Gideon said. "Hotch, let's check the garage, then show me what you got.

"Next time, show a little leg." Morgan flirted.

"Spence, you wanna go check out... not here." Zoe said, deadpan.

"Yeah, that-that sounds like a good idea." Spencer said and they went up the stairs at a quicker pace than Morgan and Elle and went to a room at the end of the hall.

"Morgan, the only time you're gonna see a little leg from me is when I'm about to kick your ass." Elle said.

"I still teach hand-to-hand over at Quantico if you need a little brush-up training."

"Yeah, because I passed up so I can humiliate him when Hotch asks me to join. He loses every time." Zoe called to them, much to Morgan's chagrin. "It infuriates him to be beaten by someone who's only been in the FBI less than two years and has only been at the BAU six months and is thirteen years his junior."

"Don't you have a room to search, Doogie Howser?" Morgan asked, irritably.

"Okay, first off, I'm a woman. You'll need to find a girl name, Chicago. Second of all, Doogie Howser is improbable, the youngest people to graduate from medical school were the same age. Balamurali Ambati and me. They'd never have a ten-year-old start medical school, even if he was the legen-dary Neil Patrick Harris."

Spencer appeared next to Zoe to add his criticism to the legendary Neil Patrick Harris' breakout role. "Even if he knew all the information since his emotional development would be taken into account."

"You two ruin everything." Morgan said.

"Elle, you think you're ready for it?" Zoe asked, "the job. You'd have to deal with all of us all day. And we got Garcia who flirts with Morgan even less shame than him."

Zoe moved back into the room with Spencer before Elle strode over, "Zoe, wait. You're the newest member, also somehow only nineteen. The cut off is twenty-three."

"Well, for geniuses, we were given exceptions. I joined the BAU when I was twenty-two." Spencer said.

"I trained with Maze Valdez, no relation,” Absolutely relation, “for a year and a half before..." Her mouth was about to form one word but then she changed, "The BAU requested my transfer. But I'm fully qualified." Like most people Elle assumed Zoe had said that due to her age and not her blood relation to two of the founding members of the BAU.

"Zoe, seriously I want that opening at BAU. You got any advice?" Elle asked.

"My advice? Just trust your instincts. Be intuitive. Be empathetic. Restrain your impulses. At all times, try to understand the Unsub's point of view, including their backstory, their mentality, their family, everything. Put yourself in their shoes as horrible as it is. Be perceptive. Be observant. But most of all, trust your instincts. They're telling you something for a reason."

——————————————————————————————————

Elle found Spencer, Gideon, Zoe, and Alexander upstairs; Alexander seemed to be fussing at Zoe about something in a manner that Elle hadn't experienced in twenty years; Spencer in thirteen.

Zoe irritably snatched a bottle of water and reached into her side satchel that carried her ADHD fidget toys and her antidepressant, ADHD, PTSD, and Cyclothymia (a combination of a variety of pills) pill bottles and she took out only a few of the bottles to take and washed them down with the water.

Elle didn't comment on this as she had figured Zoe had some kind of mental illness due to her constant fidgeting, oral fixation, distractibility, hyperactivity, forgetfulness, and her bag of fidget toys.

Then she spotted a game on a wooden platform with white and black markers.

"What kind of game is it?" Elle asked.

"In China, it's called wei-chi. Here we call it 'Go'." Spencer said.

"It's considered to be the most difficult board game ever conceived." Zoe said, having mastered the game by two and a half.

"Chairman Mao required his generals to learn it." Gideon said.

"It also looks like he's playing himself." Zoe observed, kneeling down beside the game board, nearly knocking it over with her knees, making Spencer's hand fly near it before pulling them back. "Sorry."

"How can you tell?" Elle asked.

Zoe gently pushed the board into a spin, revealing that it was on some kind of rotator wheel.

"My uncle taught me how to build these, I've got a few at home." Zoe said.

"I will come back to that later." Spencer promised her, "This might provide an advantage, actually."

"Yeah, Go is considered to be a particularly psychologically revealing game. There are profiles for every player—the conservative point counter, the aggressor, the finesser. And with what little psychological research that has been done of 'Go' against other games. In Go the large search tree, knowledge, and pattern recognition is more important than in other strategy games, it's theorized playing this reduces the risk of Alzheimer's and dementia and I can already tell I'm doing the off-topic thing again..." Zoe said and saw Elle looking at her, wondering how she knew so much about the psychology of a game Elle didn't know existed five minutes ago, "My, uh, one of my cousins introduced me to it when I was a year and a half." She pursed her lips together, recalling a brief memory where her thirteen-year-old cousin had been pinned to the floor by mental institution security officers and forced into a straightjacket in Las Vegas when she was about three years old.

"A year and a half?" Elle asked, certain she must've heard that wrong.

"What kind of player is Slessman?" Hotch asked, noting Zoe's discomfort which told him it was either one of her criminal relatives or mentally ill relatives.

Zoe stood back up once again, carelessly, bumping against the board game, making the markers jump but no real damage done. "Sorry. Sorry. Need a few angles." Zoe tilted her head as visualizations only she could see formed rather cinematically, putting mental notes on the different players. Her eyes darted up to meet Alexander's first, before darting to the next person's eyes and so on, "Extreme aggressor."

——————————————————————————————————

Elle, Gideon, and Zoe walked into the boy room where Morgan was with the laptop.

"Oh, fake password?" Zoe asked.

"How'd you guess?" Morgan asked.

"Garcia's not the only hacker, I just prefer the field." Zoe shrugged.

"Well, ladies first." Morgan said, pulling the chair out.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" She sassed. Spencer snorted in amusement behind them as Zoe sat down, flipping her streaked dark brown hair.

"Well, then what's the number six at the bottom of the screen?" Elle asked.

"Number of password attempts before the program wipes the hard drive." Morgan said.

"There could be an email, or a journal in the computer, something that tells us where Heather is." Elle said and looked at Zoe, "Do you think you can break in?"

"In six tries?" Morgan asked, skeptically.

Zoe tilted her head back and looked at Elle and the others upside down, Zoe asked, "I don't know if there's any other viruses on the laptop if I try to hack into it which would wipe the hard drive.”

"Try again. Fail again. Fail better." Gideon quoted and Elle, Zoe, and Morgan just stared at him.

"Samuel Beckett." Spencer recalled.

"Try not. Do or do not." Morgan said.

Gideon looked at him confused before Spencer turned to him, "Yoda."

Zoe was hesitant; while she may be reckless when it came to her own safety; she was so filled with self-loathing and utter conviction that people wouldn't care all that much if she died; but they only had six tries.

"I'm all for taking risks but not when it holds the life of another person. Zoe Valdez." Zoe sassed. "The password likely means something to him. Our best chance is to either get it out of him or to profile him.”

Gideon turned around and spotted a familiar book spine on the shelf that was written in 1984, he pulled it out and Spencer read the title aloud, "Journal of Applied Criminal Psychology..." Zoe cut herself off from her conversation with Morgan when she heard Spencer say the title and turned to look at them, "Co-written by David Rossi, Jason Gideon, Zelena Valdez, and Alexander Noble."

Her eyes landed on the book and Zoe stood up from the chair and made her way over, Gideon glanced at her as he started to flip through the book before it landed on a newspaper article about the incident from six months ago.

Shrapnel Blast Kills Six

"I wanna talk to him." Gideon said and walked off.

Zoe took the book and a slip of paper fell out, landing on the floor Zoe picked it up and read it. Her eyes grew dark and she stormed out of the room, slamming it into Alexander's chest. He looked at it and his eyes also grew dark.

Zelena V.

Alexander N.

Zarah N. V.

Xiomara N. V.

Zelena and Zarah were crossed out.

——————————————————————————————————

Gideon approached Slessman and placed the book down on the makeshift interrogation table which was really the cheap dinner table.

"You read my paper. Learn anything?" Zoe and Alexander ran down the stairs, Gideon turned and held out a hand out, making Zoe stop and turned back to Slessman, "go on."

"Heirens said a man living inside of his head was the one who committed the murders. You said he was lying, that there'd never been an actual case of multiple personalities." Gideon gestured for Alexander and Zoe to come in and Slessman's eyebrow raised when he saw them, his eye glued to Zoe.

"I assume you know who these two are?"

"Alexander Noble, co-founder of the BAU in 1983, you were nineteen. Same age as your daughter here, Xiomara Noble-Valdez."

"No one calls me Xiomara and don't call me Noble-Valdez either."

"What? You rather go by the surname of the mother you killed?"

"What did my mother say on Heirenz?" Zoe asked.

"She disagreed. Saying that it was more than likely many serial killers had multiple personality disorder. What do you think, Xiomara?"

"About what?"

"Heirens' diagnosis."

Zoe sat back in her seat, sensing the test and she looked down as she shifted through her thoughts

"Nothing was ever confirmed but it's been theorized that he could've had some sort of personality and/or schizophrenic disorder. Hysterical Personality Disorder. Dissociative Personality disorder. Dissociative Schizophrenic. His mother however, had hysterical paralysis and conversion disorder, formerly known as hysteria, is genetic so most likely HPD but still possible he had DID." Zoe shrugged.

"You have an academic interest in dissociative identity disorder, or you just planning your defense?" Gideon asked and Slessman just chuckled/scoffed. Gideon pulled out the article he found in the book and placed it in front of him. "You a fan of Adrian Baal's work?"

"No. I'm a fan of yours." Slessman said. "You know they never give you the real facts about CPR that outside of a hospital, it's only effective seven percent of the time." Slessman mocked but Zoe had already found that he was arrogant in his intelligence but he wasn't as smart as he thought he was. "Your friend had a ninety-three certainty of dying, but you kept trying even after you'd broken his ribs, even after his blood was all over your hands.

"How are you still alive? Are you learning medical knowledge off of a sitcom or the back of a cereal box? That was deeply inaccurate." Zoe deadpanned. "So you can't figure out how to get into the laptop to Google it either?"

A flash of irritation flickered upon Slessman's face and leaned forwards on the table, "I've heard about you. The daughter of the Scottish FBI agent, never afraid, always mocking others. I bet you're afraid deep down."

Zoe leaned on the table too until her nose was only an inch from Slessman's nose and she spoke in a soft but rather tauntingly intimidating tone but also so a certain nearby agent wouldn't hear, "I once looked a well-known serial killer who derived sexual pleasure off of the fear he inflicted up all twenty victims before brutally killing them, likely he couldn't perform otherwise. I stared him right in the eyes and I knew I was the only one to ever show him no fear and I was twelve years old. I am nineteen years old now and you look like a dentist turned supernatural monster hunter who was so incompetent at his job that he turned into a not-at-all-scary werewolf. I made my first kill when I was thirteen and he was a family member and I never regretted it because he hunted me like an animal for nearly two weeks. So, you don't scare me, so why don't you tell us where Heather Woodland is?"

He tried to cover up the fact he was unnerved and shaken now and he sat back in his chair.

"Woodland?" He feigned vague recognition at the name, "isn't she the girl that went missing a couple days ago?"

Zoe smirked, confusing Slessman and she got up, spinning on her heel dramatically out of her chair and strode out.

Gideon's eyes darted around the kitchen, noting a recurring theme in the kitchen. Good boys. Growing up in an environment like that wasn't exactly likely to mold a dominant criminal; but the kind to mold... a submissive.

"Get him out of here." Gideon said and he left.

——————————————————————————————————

Hotch found Gideon, Alexander, and Zoe, Gideon wasn't speaking while Alexander once again was fussing over Zoe to put on her sunglasses.

"I'm not putting my sunglasses on. It's fucking dark out here. You know who wears sunglasses at night? Blind people and no-talent douchebags!" She hissed at him

"Hey." Hotch said.

Gideon turned to him, "He said 'isn't she the girl’. If he'd already killed her, he would have said—"

"'Wasn't she the girl'."

"She's alive. We don't know for how long." Gideon said.

"Is it true what he said about CPR? I mean, I didn't know." Hotch said, gently.

"You want statistics on CPR, ask Reid or Zoe. She's the medical doctor. Zoe, what's the real statistics on CPR?"

"Forty-three percent survive." Zoe said, "Fifty-seven don't."

"I wanna know if you're okay." Hotch told Gideon.

"I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Think I can't do the job?" Gideon asked.

"I think you can't be two different people at once." Hotch said and Zoe flinched.

"Conflicts in the profile." Zoe said.

"What?"

"Slessman's behavior fits a submissive of a duo. Part of the profile but another part conflicts it.

"Two different behaviors." Hotch said.

"Two different people." Zoe added.

"There's a second killer."

——————————————————————————————————

Apparently, the only friend Slessman had was his ex-cell mate, Charlie Linder. Alexander had refused to let Zoe go to the prison and for once she didn't fight him too hard on it. He told Hotch to make sure she didn't sneak off. Zoe was messing with a cube puzzle, sitting in a chair next to Spencer who was on his phone when Hotch approached.

"We get an address on Linder?"

"It's coming right now." Spencer said and turned to Hotch when he went past him, "Does senior management want a field assessment on Gideon? "

Hotch stepped towards the boy genius, "Don't worry about it."

"It's Morgan who's been worrying." Zoe muttered, still doing the cube.

"Are they nervous about him being in charge? Aren't you two on your way back to Slessman's house to help Morgan?" Hotch said and Zoe left to get the keys since Spencer drove so slowly.

"Do you know why he always introduces me as Doctor Reid?" Spencer asked.

"Because he knows that people see you as a kid, and he wants to make sure that they respect you." Hotch told him.

"But he never corrects people for Zoe and she's four years younger than me." Spencer said.

"You're about to be in a car alone with her for ten minutes. Ask her then." Hotch said as Zoe came back.

"It's here." She said.

"What's the address?" Hotch said as Zoe held the paper so they all could read it.

"Don't think it matters anymore." Spencer said.

——————————————————————————————————

Winston Churchill said, "the farther backward you can look, the farther forward you will see.

"I heard you ask Hotch why I never insist on being called Doctor and Gideon or Alexander never correct people when they call me 'Agent'." Zoe said and Spencer looked at her as he clutched his seat, tightly with her reckless driving, "It's because I know they see me as a kid and I want them to. I have always had the element of surprise. I have twenty-four degrees. I finished a four-year medical school in two years. I finished the FBI training in six weeks. I'm a five foot two, nineteen-year-old girl with dyed hair and I refuse to dress as professionally as everyone else. I want them to underestimate me. I prefer to show them up, you don't because you're better. You're... honestly, you're one-of-a-kind, Doctor Reid, I've never met anyone like you. And you should be respected for that." Spencer smiled, warmly at her. She glanced at him, "What?"

"You finished your FBI training in six weeks? That's a twenty-week program." Spencer asked in amused bewilderment.

——————————————————————————————————

Spencer sat on Slessman's bed, spinning a CD while Zoe tried listening to the music with his CD player to get into his headspace. She pulled off the headphones.

"Ugh, this is much too loud."

"I'd think rock was your style." Spencer said, in an attempt of conversation. Something he was terrible at. But Zoe had always been easy to talk to while simultaneously terrifying. She never judged him for being awkward or different. She never interrupted him when he went off on one of his rants like literally everyone else but his mother had but Zoe often had her own inputs of her own knowledge.

"Alternative rock is. Very rarely in the metal section. The only Black Sabbath song I ever heard is Iron Man. What music do you like? School House Rock?" Zoe asked as she took the CD out of the CD player.

"I like Beethoven."

"Ugh. I'll never understand how people can stand classical music." Zoe rolled her eyes as she picked up the nearest CD case. "It's boring and old and there's no story..."

"You gave me the CD case." Spencer reminded her,

Zoe looked at the case she was trying to put the CD in, "Oh, yeah, this isn't the right case..." An idea came to her. "He already had a case empty."

"Like he was using it. Nothing was in the CD player..." Spencer came to the same conclusion.

——————————————————————————————————

Morgan was pacing in the attic, "Oh, come on! I need a password. I need a password. What am I looking for? What could I possibly be looking for?"

"Zoe and I've been thinking about the CD's." Spencer said as he and Zoe entered as he turned a stretched-out paperclip in his hands.

"Oh, guys, come on. We tried the CD's. We searched, sifted, and sorted through every one of this guy's head-banging heavy metal collection. We gotta find something, or this girl is dead."

"Think we may have missed the obvious." Spencer said, using a paperclip to eject the CD holder.

"What are you doing?" Morgan asked and the ejector popped out, revealing a Metallica CD. Morgan picked it up, "Reid, Zoe, what made you think of this?"

"If you're putting this kind of protection on your computer, then you probably use it a lot, it's easier to use the laptop and listen to music on it at the same time." Zoe said.

"And it was the only empty case." Spencer added, handing Morgan the case.

"All right. I'm an insomniac who listens to Metallica to go to sleep at night. What song could possibly speak to me?

"Enter Sandman." Zoe said so at once. "Trust me, I come from a family of sociopathic and violent insomniacs." Morgan put the password in as she added, "Or as we call ourselves 'independent women'." The home screen popped up, "Morgan, let me. I can find anything relating to Heather fastest."

Zoe pushed Morgan out of his chair and started to type at lightning speed, sticking a bit of her tongue out. Until a box popped up saying: "Are you sure you want to connect to T. Vogel's live camera?"

Yes.

Their eyes widened at what they saw. "Morgan, get the cops. The cops! Get the cops!" Morgan ran out, shouting for them. "Phone, where's my phone!"

She pulled it out of her pocket but dropped it. Spencer grabbed it, fumbling and handed it to her and she called Gideon, "Gideon, Heather's alive."

"How do you know?

"'Cause we're watching her right now."

——————————————————————————————————

They still didn't know where Heather was.

"Zoe, did you see that?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah."

"What?" Morgan asked.

"Zoe, can you show me the last twelve images lined up next to each other?"

"Yep." She said, popping the 'p', typing a few keys and bringing up the twelve.

"What?"

Zoe spoke just a fraction of a second before Spencer, "Right there."

"Right there." Spencer said, "You see that? The light bulb hanging from the wire? Yeah, what about it? It's shifting positions like it's swaying like the Earth is tilting."

"Not the Earth, doc." Zoe said, "The ocean."

"I'll call, Hotch." Morgan said.

——————————————————————————————————

"According to Zoe, he wouldn't be able to transmit the webcam image from the middle of the ocean. It's the best we got, Hotch. Even if we're right, getting the exact location's on you, my friend. To work me a little magic."

——————————————————————————————————

Zoe sat in front of laptop and she messed with a glow in the dark spinning pen while Spencer absentmindedly messed with a puzzle box of hers.

"Zoe, would you knock that off, I feel like I'm going to have an epileptic seizure." Morgan complained.

"Technically, an epileptic seizure is caused by flashing lights." Spencer corrected.

Morgan snatched the pen from Zoe and she pulled out a shape-shifting fidget cube.

"Guys, look." She said, "he's inside." They saw Vogel unlocking the cage, "get Elle on the phone, Morgan!" She snatched her spinning pen back as he walked off to make the phone call. On the screen, Vogel started to pull Heather out of the cage when she kicked him in the face.

"Ooh." Spencer and Zoe said as they were getting their things together to leave.

"Good instincts, girl. But she won't get far, he's been starving her and raping her with various objects on a boat." Zoe said, "Let's just hope Gideon and Elle get to her in time. I'd better drive."

——————————————————————————————————

Gideon had angered Vogel until he threw Heather aside to shoot him, allowing Elle to get a shot in, killing Vogel. Zoe had rushed over to check on Heather's condition at once, comforting her with Elle in hushed whispers, doing what she could with her portable mini-medical kit until the ambulance arrived.

Morgan sat with Hotch when the impulsive former cop asked, "So what kind of report do they want on him?"

"I suppose whether he's fit to be a field agent." Hotch said.

"Same one they wanted on Zoe?" Morgan asked.

"Same one they want monthly on Zoe." Hotch corrected.

"Think he'll pass?" Morgan asked after a chuckle at the jab towards the department's wild card.

"You know, Haley and I were looking at a baby names book. Guess what Gideon means in Hebrew." Hotch said as Spencer and Zoe walked up behind them.

"Mighty warrior." Spencer said and walked off before turning back to them, "Appropriate."

"Also, 'great destroyer'; 'great warrior', 'woodsman', 'one who cuts down'." Zoe said, "But apparently in the bible, Gideon was the name of a judge in the Bible and the angels called him a 'mighty warrior' or as Spencer explained to me for five full minutes, so indeed spot on."

Morgan rolled his eyes at the two geniuses.

"So what are you gonna tell them?"

"About Gideon's report?" Zoe questioned.

"What would you say?" Hotch asked Morgan.

"Gideon saved her life. That's good enough for me." Morgan said and walked off.

"Seemed not to be good enough for him when we got here." Zoe murmured with a hint of teasing sarcasm in her tone.

"What do you think?" Hotch asked.

"I think... there may be setbacks due to the whole Adrian Bale situation, we may have a bomber eventually and he'll have to deal with that. But... he's the best and unless Rossi comes out of retirement or as I call it 'hiding from his dozen ex-wives', we could use a founder of the team who is not constantly worried about his daughter's safety and keeping the fact that the newest member of the team is his daughter a secret and the stress that his other daughter has been missing for four years now." Zoe sighed, "It's been four years since I escaped and I still have nightmares of the stuff I allowed myself to remember but eventually, I'm going to have nightmares of the stuff we see again, cases that don't end as well. He can't wait until the guilt stops because then he'll be waiting forever. The only way to stop feeling so guilty is by helping others, he can't do that on medical leave."

"You know you're too wise for nineteen."

"Yeah, the graduations from Yale, Harvard, MiT, and CalTech before I even graduated high school kind of tipped me off to that." She sassed, playfully, though she had an embarrassed blush on her cheeks.

——————————————————————————————————

On the plane back, Morgan was asleep in a chair, still clutching the file. Spencer was asleep on a couch, rather adorably which Zoe definitely did not think or care about and if she were awake she would not think his turning in his sleep was adorable either, nor would she care.

Only Alexander, Gideon, and Hotch were awake, Gideon sat in a seat on a laptop while Alexander sat on a couch diagonal to the older founder with Zoe asleep on the other side of the couch with her head laying on her balled up leather jacket in his lap, making the occasional noise in her sleep, usually it was incoherent mumbles or soft groans or moans but every once in a while, she muttered something.

"Mary... Mary Bell, ten years old... Scotswood... Newcastle... Tyne... nineteen-sixty-eight..." She muttered, apparently dreaming about one of the youngest female serial killers.

Alexander couldn't help but chuckle, having long since lost his concern of her growing up to be what he hunted.

"She still sleeps like she did as a toddler." Gideon remarked as Hotch sat in the seat across the aisle from Gideon.

"Hey."

Zoe suddenly stirred, her groans rising before she rolled over and hit the floor. She woke up, smacking her lips as she saw the three men looking down at her, all rather amused at how she could be both the definition of innocent and the antonym.

"Hey, guys. Uh... you and Haley pick the baby's name yet?" She ignored what happened as she lifted herself back onto the couch. Alexander wrapped his daughter into a fatherly one-armed hug, pulling her against him, kissing the top of her head.

Hotch smiled briefly before saying, "It's funny Haley liked the name Charles—but, you know all I could think of..."

"Manson." Gideon chuckled.

"Then there was Henry." Hotch said.

"Lee Lucas." Alexander supplied.

"Uh... Jeffrey."

"Dahmer." Zoe filled in the blank, sleepily.

"There's just too many of them."

"That was the problem when Zelena and I were coming up with names for this one and..." His eldest daughter's name died on his lips, "you know, luckily they both turned out to be girls and there's not as many girl serial killers."

"You wanna bet?" Zoe tilted her head up, giving him a challenging look. “Plus, you and mom picked the most bizarre names ever. Zarah and Xiomara.”

"Kind of hard to feel good about catching one when you know there are fifty more still out there." Gideon said.

Hotch looked away for a moment and the father and daughter exchanged looks, having a feeling he was thinking about that one serial killer who got away seven years prior.

"How's your report going?" Gideon said, having not been on the case due to his son Stephen having his appendix removed but knowing it weighed heavily on Hotch's shoulders. Hotch chuckled at Gideon, knowing this, "Didn't think you could hide that from an old profiler, now, did ya?"

"Oh, Gideon, you're not old. Not compared to Rossi, he's always been a cranky sixty-year-old man at heart." Zoe teased.

"You know, you saved that girl today. You can feel good about that." Hotch told Gideon.

"It is good. It's a good thing." Gideon said.

"Zoe, you need to go get some sleep. Go." Alexander said and pushed his daughter off the couch and towards the side of the plane where Spencer and Morgan were.

"Or else what? I'll turn into an UnSub?" She muttered, sarcastically before toppling herself in a couch beside Spencer's.

"She's good." Gideon said,

——————————————————————————————————

Late February to Early March, 2005

Dumfries, Virginia

Nietzsche once said, "when you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you."

Soon before the Boston bombing case, Gideon was driving back to Quantico, talking to Zoe Noble-Valdez on the phone as a test run to see if she could get an interview was to create a profile for the Footpath Killer, theorizing a white man in his twenties, most likely an American van, a menial job that was most likely isolated containing few visitors and little to no possibility for witnesses, and a possible stutter.

He had already made the profile but she was doing it on her own which turned out to be a bit more detailed than his.

Zoe had been through a recent traumatic event just a few weeks before but Zoe had always been better at compartmentalizing and dealing with trauma better than others.

He hung up on the young girl he had helped his co-founder raise when he stopped at a gas station in the middle of nowhere to get gas. He filled up his car tank and went inside the gas station for some unnecessities.

He took a single candy bar and placed it at the counter, "I'll take this."

As the gas station clerk rang up the purchase, Gideon's eyes wandered behind him to the wall of photos, noticing several but not all were of the Footpath Killer's known victims, they were up-close and personal.

Gideon turned to see the cashier's truck, it was an old, dingy American truck, maybe a Chevy, looking like it could use some repairs.

The cashier's gas station was in the middle of nowhere, isolated enough for the occasional customer with little to no risk of a witness.

He turned back to the cashier, a white man who seemed to be in his mid-twenties. Only one characteristic remained.

"Have a n-n—a n-n-n-nice day." He stuttered. He had a stutter. He fit the profile to a "T"

Gideon looked at the clerk for a long time and then the clerk glanced down to see Gideon's holster. He was law enforcement but he didn't react with Gideon watching him.

Gideon took the money and left the store as the clerk moved quickly inside the shop and reappeared behind him with a shotgun. Gideon spotted him in the reflection of a sign, pointing the gun at him, ready to fire.

*Spencer Reid Gif Source: @borahaes*

*Edited November 8, 2024*

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