#criminal minds the silencer

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Criminal Minds Imagine: Being a Paramedic for ‚The Silencer‘

Based of S8 E1 with the Silencer aka John Myers. I always loved that episode, he‘s one of the few unsubs that I can feel for. Fun fact: The actor who plays him is actually deaf as well!

Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader, Canon events, Leg Injury, Short!Reader, Height difference

You were covering the night shift when you were called to come to the Prison and pick up an inmate. Since you were the Hospital closest to the facility you were responsible for the cases that exceeded the qualifications of their medical personnel, as well as anything that happened after their Nurses shift ended. Like now when it was nearing 2 AM in the middle of the night. The guards weren‘t trained to recognize what was wrong with the Inmate, the only thing they could say with certainty over the phone was that he was found collapsed on the floor of his cell, violently shaking as if he was being jolted with electricity.

You and your colleague shot each other a look, while he was driving you prepared the equipment in the back to have anything handy should he turn out to be epileptic or suffer a similarly urgent ailment. You watched the gates of the prison open from the windows in the back, looking on for a moment before you turned back to get a cushion to hold his head still once he was brought in. You opened the doors, the fluorescent lights of the ambulance spilling onto the concrete that the patient was being rolled over by three Guards. They fixated him on a Stretcher of their own, it almost looked too short for a man his size. He was still shaking, you jumped out of the vehicle to help them get him in. His eyelids fluttered when he was brought from the dark into the brightly lit inside of the ambulance, you checked his vitals quickly and prepared an injection.

The Guard that came along for Security reasons hopped in as well and closed the doors behind you, you called out to your colleague to drive without looking up from your patient. The man in front of you didn‘t seem to be aware of anything that was happening, just like you weren’t fully aware of the stuff that Guard was chatting on about while you were at work.

You frowned and looked up when you realized he was talking to you, „Sorry, what was that?“ He sat there so casually like this was a mild nuisance, not the urgent cause for worry over a human life.

„I said it’s a shame you had to come all the way here for that stuff.“ He repeated, and while you looked him in the eyes for a moment and contemplated answering, you didn’t and went back to check for any other injuries.

„So what‘s his problem? Can you tell?“ He pressed on and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his spread knees and looking you over.

„It‘s an allergy.“ You replied, and studied the mans face. Did he have a stroke before? One eyelid was slightly drooping, you flipped through his medical record. While there were many notions about fights he supposedly started and the injuries he took away from them there was nothing there explaining what you were seeing.

And.. „There’s no name? How is that possible?“ The guard shrugged, „Never talked, neither back then or now. Either way he’s silent or he’s violent. A complete waste of tax money if you ask me, but you should know. They call you up for Scum like that in the middle of the night.“

You found yourself getting annoyed with his presence in your work space, this reminded you why you didn’t like taking up these emergencies from the Prison in the first place. That job really seemed to attract a certain kind of man, usually the kind that looked for an excuse to put others down without much of a consequence.

„I don’t know what he did, but being so willing to talk foul of others doesn’t really support your supposed superiority over those you guard.“

You remarked, and there was a moment of silence before suddenly- tires screeched, you were violently thrown back into the wall and the guard flew forward as the ambulance crashed down a hill. Your hearing was muffled by the sound of your blood rushing through your ears like waves crashing down on you, a metallic taste spread in your mouth and made you spit out blood onto the cold floor before you fell unconscious.

It happened so quickly and yet it all took ages, when you regained consciousness you immediately spotted the guard collapsed against the broken doors. You blinked slowly, trying to make out your surroundings.

Hearing velcro snapping open and metal clinking you looked up to find the man getting off his handcuffs and slipping off the Stretcher. When he stood up to his full height his head gently bumped against the ceiling, he tilted his head and looked around-

you make eye contact, you hold onto your breath. He was a Criminal, and judging from the fights he picked in prison he wasn’t adversary to violence.

He said nothing, he only eyed you with suspicion and caution, almost like a wild animal. You didn’t recognize any aggression in his features despite looking worn and well capable of the brutality from his medical record.

He took a step toward you, almost towering over you with the little space he had approached- and held out his hand towards you. His eyes flickered from his hand to you, and your lips parted in surprise. He wasn‘t planning on killing you..

You nervously looked up and yet you found yourself reaching out to him as well to take his offered hand. It engulfed yours easily, his skin radiated warmth against yours and it made you aware of the cold from outside flooding in from the broken doors.

A swift pull brought you up to your feet and a sharp pain made itself aware in your left leg- „Ah..!“ tears shot into your eyes and you instinctively grabbed a hold of his Prison Overall with your free hand to stabilize yourself. „F..Fuck.. I think..“ you breathed. His eyes widened at the sudden motion, instantly letting go of your hand to support your other side. He had seen this pained expression many times, usually it was followed by loud, pained noises that he found unbearable. And yet, even when you gasped in agony it was unexpectedly soft. The tears in your eyes gleamed in the flickering, dimmed lights of the ambulance- it reminded him of something he had read once in a book by Jerry Spinelli; ‚When a Stargirl cries, she sheds not tears but light‘

You looked up to meet his gaze, his ever quiet, intense expression. You weren‘t able to get help if you weren‘t able to walk, the phone dangled from the wall with parts of it scattered on the floor alongside a bunch of medical supplies. The Guard and your Colleague seemed to suffer more than mere unconsciousness, it was crucial that you found someone to help. You.. you should probably start off by taking care of your leg as best as the supply of this ambulance would allow it and give yourself a remedy for the pain. That is.. if he wasn‘t going to change his mind on sparing you. You essentially had no idea what his intentions were, only that he could have easily killed you already if he had wanted to. Would he take you hostage now? Use you for his escape and kill you off once you weren‘t of any use for him anymore? You grimaced, both out of pain and fear, but you didn‘t shout or beg. You simply asked, „Are you going to hurt me?“

He didn‘t immediately react, he couldn‘t guarantee that he wouldn‘t if you did something stupid. But he didn‘t intend to, for now. So he slowly shook his head. You exhaled and closed your eyes in relief, squinting again at the pain. „Are you going to take me hostage?“ You asked, again, he shook his head. You nodded, „Then.. I‘m going to be taking some time to get help. It should buy you enough time to disappear. I don‘t know where exactly we are but.. avoid Thompsville, I see a lot of Guards dropping by there to get lunch. They would recognize you.“ He had more reasons to kill you than to let you go, so the least you could do.. was that. That was when it dawned on you that you were practically clawing at his Overall and you quickly let go, taking a step away from him and hitting the stretcher with your back.

He saw the realization on your face when you became aware of your proximity, quickly you retreated from him despite your sprained leg. But unlike everyone else you didn‘t make a disgusted face when they realized he was there, it was.. embarrassment? He slightly tilted his head. John nodded at your words and took a step back as well towards the doors. He knew where he wanted to go now. Before he was arrested there was no calm, no quiet, no matter where he went in hopes of finally living without the agony of the noisy outside world. But due to an unexpected turn of events did he find a vision of such place in prison. The man in the cell next to him talked of a place so peaceful, it left him yearning to go there ever since. Now he actually had an opportunity to see it for himself.

He was about to turn away, to open the doors and go, when he picked up your movements from the corner of his eye. You heaved yourself up on the strainer and tried reaching the supplies from there, but failed to do so because they were up too high. Your hands were shaking. John paused, and why he did it he could not tell, but he went back to go to the cabinet for you. His hand hovered over it, waiting for you to tell him what you needed from it. „Ah.. um, the syringe, and, yes-„ He got out what you told him you needed.

You lifted your shaking leg so you could start cutting open your pant leg, he got impatient and took the scissors from you and kneeled down to do it instead. He carefully propped your foot on his chest, you looked at him in surprise but let him proceed. He carefully cut through your pants up to your knee to reveal the swelling that confirmed it to be sprained. He helped you put an ankle brace on, careful not to touch you. It might prevent further injury when you moved, and the pain medication you injected yourself would soon start to work as well. You sighed when everything was done that could be done for now- he watched you run your hand over your face. When he helped you you had winced here and there, sighed at the pain, but you didn‘t pull away. Your eyes locked with his, there was no need for you to speak, he nodded at you as if he instantly understood what you felt. You figured he saw it as a repayment for helping him out of the seizure he suffered.

John turned around to open the doors, looking left and right before jumping out of the car. The ambulance had landed in the forest next to the highway, it was dark and steep. You limped towards the doors, and lowered yourself to sit on the floor so didn‘t need to jump when you slid out and came in contact with the forest floor. He was looking around, working on putting together a flashlight he had found in the car. Where were you..? You have rarely been the driver during Calls like these so you couldn‘t really tell where the highway was going either. Shit.. you didn‘t want to hitchhike, how high was the possibility of being spared by a Criminal twice? You‘d rather not wander the street in the middle of the night to be picked up by god knows who. No, best case scenario was you found a shop with cameras, the manager could call an ambulance and send them to your stranded car to help the other two.

The man managed to turn on the flashlight and looked back at you, gesturing you to come along. He would get you close enough to civilization until you could safely walk the rest on your own, maybe you recognized your surroundings at any point and could pinpoint him into a secluded direction.

You followed suit as best as you could, thankfully he illuminated the path in front of you both so you wouldn‘t trip and hurt yourself even more. The forest air was cold but fresh, you heard birds calling out in the distance and the rustling of leaves as the wind bend the trees in what was going to be a storm in foreseeable time.

„I like Night time walks..“ you started talking, just because the whole Situation was freaking you out and you still had lots of Adrenaline pumping through you, „It‘s usually too bright and noisy when you walk in the Daytime. But it��s really pretty when you look into the Orange lights of someones windows against the blue night. And when the birds act up around the time it gets dark and they fly around in swarms.“ John shot you a glance, lingering for a moment before looking ahead again. When was the last time he was out at night? He tried remembering the last time he had seen what you described to him. Maybe it was in Spring, the night had been warmer than the ones before.

You found a walking path soon, a good sign that you were somewhat close to civilization, at least you could follow that path now instead of hoping that you were somewhat steady in the direction you‘ve been taking. The pain medication was working by now, but it didn‘t make walking any less difficult for you. The man was walking slower so you could keep up, you were thankful of that but at what rate would you actually get somewhere with the way you were limping? The longer you two were gone the closer he was to have the Police called on him. You hoped that he wouldn‘t abandon you in the forest because of this. Time was running and it would rain soon.

It’s been a while, you couldn’t tell if it was thirty minutes or two hours when you came across a gigantic tree on your path, it was so dark you couldn‘t even see the trunk. The man approached it and looked around as well, climbing it with ease and huffing when he jumped off to the other side. You slowed down in your steps, eyeing this massive obstacle in your path warily- he pointed the light back at you so you could see and it wasn‘t looking good. Should you try to get on your stomach and then just.. just move over like a seal? The man seemed to recognize the problem as well, because he got on top of the tree as well. He crouched down to one knee and held his arm out to you.

You limped closer and carefully put one hand on his shoulder, imagining he‘d support your balance– you let out a surprised sound when his hand came around your waist instead and he heaved you up into his arms instead with one arm, lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing. You instantly went to put your arms around him to hold on, clawing at his collar. You felt heat rushing into your face when you felt his fingers gently dig into your thighs. He rose up to his full height again, adjusting you in his arms by heaving you up a little more. He got off the tree, careful not to shake you too much. For a second he caught a whiff of your perfume. It was sweet, like a vision of the place the man in prison had told him about. The paradise he was chasing, with lush fields and honeybees.

When his feet touched ground again, John pointed the light towards you again to check if you were alright. His eyes widened just a little when he saw that a dark shade of red had flooded your cheeks, and your eyes caught his with a glassy look of embarrassment. He mustered you for signs of discomfort, yet the only thing he could discern was that you seemed to be.. flustered. Hm.

People usually didn’t react to him that way. Many of them crossed the street or put distance between themselves and him even if he was just minding his own business.

His imposing height paired with this impairment he had with noises, his defiance to speak after growing up deaf, it made him unapproachable and suspicious to most people. He understood why, and over time the noise sensitivity and isolation had turned him into a recluse. But..

he couldn’t deny that this felt nice, comforting in a way. He didn’t remember the last time he wanted to be careful with someone else in the way he was with you right now.

He held out the flashlight to you and you took it from him with a questioning look. Once his other hand was free he put his other arm around your legs, shifting you so you laid in his arms like a bride instead. You swallowed thickly, unable to break eye contact with him for yet another moment before you pointed the light ahead of you so he could see. His hands were warm through the fabric of your clothes.

„So you don‘t talk at all..?“ You started after a while, looking up into his face. It seemed like he was going to show no reaction, but then he nodded slowly while still looking ahead. „I assume no one in Prison is using sign language with you.“ You were quiet for a while, rocking in his arms with every step. You heard the gravel under his shoes. The wind picked up, you slightly cowered more into his chest. „If you had written letters to someone they would have known your name by now. So.. so do you communicate with anyone at all?“ You looked up to him, he frowned and his eyelids fluttered for a moment. How did you know? Why did you ask? He did not dare meet your gaze.

First raindrops were starting to come down, a contrasting cold against your warm cheeks. You shivered. „That must be hard.“ You breathed, gaze letting go of him to trail down to your legs. The swelling of your leg still alarmingly prominent. When the rain picked up you blinked fast and instinctively hid your face in his Overall. His eyes quickly darted down to you when you did that, John slightly pressed his lips together and slowly looked up again. Your nose nuzzled against him, it felt like he held a fawn in his arms.

It seemed as if the forest was slowly clearing up, the path was getting wider. You must be close now-

A light cut through the dark, one that was not your own. He spotted a house, no, more than that. A village.

The luminescent lights of a nearby gas station reached you, a car was just driving away from there.

Relief coursed through you, you turned off the flashlight and ran a hand through your hair. God.. you actually managed to get there before the night was over! Maybe your colleagues had a chance, maybe someone had called already to find your ambulance. You needed to tell them where you were.

He halted and bend over, carefully helping you back onto your feet. His eyes flickered over you when he stabilized you and took back the flashlight. You realized he wouldn’t want to get any closer, once you made your call this place would be swarmed by Police.

So.. this was it?

You breathed out and looked at him, you didn’t quite know what to say. Your form stood against the orange light from behind you, contrasting the blue from the night. A scene molded out of your words. Maybe you could make all these impressions come true with your words.

„I.. um,“ you brushed a wet strand of hair out of your face, it was pouring now. „Thank you for taking me here. I don’t know what you did that got you into prison, but I know what you did for me so.. please stay safe.“

You smiled and, maybe it was the adrenaline but, you leaped forward and hugged him. Johns arms instinctively jumped upwards in surprise, he felt his heart race against the spot where your head laid.

He was.. fully immobile for a moment, when he managed to regain his senses John put his arms around your smaller frame in return. He engulfed you easily, the rain seemed to stop when he lowered his head to rest on top of yours for a moment. Even now he seemed to be very careful with his touch.

He felt weirdly grateful for this, for the way you allowed him some kindness despite his unknown past, despite his Silence. You squeezed him and let go, he inhaled deeply and nodded at you before taking a few steps back.

You smiled lightly and turned around to go to the Gas station. When you turned around one more time he was gone, but you saw the faint light of the flashlight dancing through the trees. Birds called out from the forest and took off into the sky.

It‘s been a while since I‘ve written or posted anything. I hope you liked this nonetheless and if you did it would motivate me if you left a comment or an ask!!

[mccdreamys-writes]

alex blake in 8x01

- alex blake gifs | criminal minds 8x01 - the silencer

[rhae-ali]

[wistfulwatcher]

[rt3nenbaum]

“i don't know what to say after australia they might disqualify me for the rest of the championship” – fernando after they asked him if he was giving oscar drs on purpose at the end of the race

[snarkylinda]

This is the funniest sad thing I had ever seen.

[dumbassdumas]

Vaguely autistic detectives, my beloved

[lex-nulla]

guys who did i forget

[swftlore]

just watched criminal minds season three episode five 'seven seconds' for the first time my life has genuinely been changed i have never consumed such a good piece of media like jesus christ wow

[jigsawscarred]

Indie, selective, & private (mutuals only) blog for Billy Russo. Main verses are Hannibal, The Boys, crime & armed forces. Canon divergent & mixed media. Multiverse & Multiship. Please read rules beforehand. Written by Vespertine. Mun & Muse 21+. Activity Low-Medium.

Not directly affiliated with the Marvel RPC, but will selectively write with Marvel muses.

/ rules / about

/ promo template

[puddingueu]

I hate it here

[nimchimpskyphd]

Longlegs is like someone drunkenly described Silence of the Lambs to David Lynch.

If Nic Cage had given a subdued psychopath performance I think it could have elevated it massively. Unfortunately what we got was an indie film Joker with prosthetic makeup that made him look like the Temu version of David Berkowitz from Criminal Mimes.

[greasydumbfuck]

nobody understands frank like i do (i do not understand him either)

[chilapis]

if you’ve ever been mean to the sweet little girl that is paimon i will kill you. i pray for public interest that this is common knowledge.

[justyncase]

"hi my name is penelope and i do not like change" neurodivergent garcia for the win

[spritehouse]

The End is Near pt. 1

I’m Not Afraid to Disappear

read on ao3 | part 2 coming soon

Prompts: Pinned Down (no. 5) & Radio Silence (no. 7) | @whumptober-archive (both prompts are mostly implied)

⚠️Content Warnings: talk of suicide/suicidal idealization/not wanting to be alive, drugs/thoughts of drug use and cravings, unhealthy or disordered eating, implications of self-harm please read responsibly!

Pairing: Luke Alvez/Spencer Reid

Summary: The hunger helps with the cravings, keeping the itch, the burning buzz of need under his skin at bay, while a small glass vial of temptation sits closer than his next meal, waiting on his bedside table for the grieving genius to give in. He doesn’t want to be alive. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it, or maybe it is, considering the thoughts never stopped, suicidal idealization burning in the back of his mind since he could understand the desire to die, life fanning small sparks into roaring flames like bonfires, heat consuming every other ache in his body until only ashes remain. Spencer is tired. He doesn’t want to be alive.

- or, spencer is struggling after emily's death and his boyfriend, luke, comes to help

Notes: currently fucking around w putting my fics here. lmk what you think

His ceiling is white.

Or an off-white from time passing, wearing away color like life slowly weathering away rocks, mountains of genius eroded into piles of sand, the still color swimming, swirling in Spencer’s vision.

He’s tired but still so achingly awake, staring at one discolored spot on the ceiling, resonating with it; he doesn’t belong here either, sticking out like a sore thumb, too dull, too vibrant, too loud, too soft, too fucked up to save. He has never found where he fits, floating between nothingness and everything, all at once, distance silencing his suffering screams.

And he’s tired.

Exhaustion hangs off his limbs like chains, tethering his body to reality, pain pinning him down while his consciousness drifts, thoughts floating aimlessly through his empty apartment.

His stomach has since stopped aching over the blending days, giving up on reminding its host that, despite everything, he’s still human and requires food because it doesn’t matter if he’s alive anymore; he doesn’t want to be.

The hunger helps with the cravings, keeping the itch, the burning buzz of need under his skin at bay, while a small glass vial of temptation sits closer than his next meal, waiting on his bedside table for the grieving genius to give in.

He doesn’t want to be alive.

It’s not the first time he’s thought about it, or maybe it is, considering the thoughts never stopped, suicidal idealization burning in the back of his mind since he could understand the desire to die, life fanning small sparks into roaring flames like bonfires, flames consuming every other ache in his body until only ashes remain.

Spencer is tired. He doesn’t want to be alive.

“Spencer?”

He hardly hears his door open, staring at the ceiling as soft footsteps sound through the stillness, trudging through the thick layer of grief that has settled over Spencer’s apartment.

“Spence?”

Dim light streams through the open door, illuminating Spencer in a soft glow of grief as Luke studies the scene before him.

“Oh, cariño...”

His eyes leave the ceiling, lazily tracking Luke through his bedroom, watching his boyfriend stop at his bedside table, shanking hand hovering over the vial.

“Can I touch you, Spence?”

He doesn’t move, grief and now, shame sitting on his chest, pinning him in place, heart and eyes aching, burning, chest longing for his boyfriend’s touch.

“Okay, I’ve got you.”

Tears well like springs under his eyes when Luke understands—he always understands—what his partner needs, sometimes better than Spencer, without words, gentle hands holding him against his chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

Part of him wants to protest, reassure Luke that he shouldn’t have to spend every second wondering, waiting for his partner to fall apart the second something bad happens, and apologize. The other part wants to scream, not at Luke, never at Luke, but just scream, finally feeling every emotion, every ounce of anger, regret, sadness, everything he’s spent his life locking away.

“It’s okay, cariño. It’ll be okay.”

He can’t do either; he can’t even cry.

“Alright, Spence,” Luke sighs after a few minutes, pulling back and leaning his boyfriend against the headboard. “Here’s what we’re going to do–”

He almost starts sobbing right there, relief lightening the load weighing him down, so thankful Luke understands that sometimes he just needs someone to take charge and tell him what to do, laying everything out and giving him a chance to turn his brain off for a bit.

“–we’re gonna go to the bathroom and get rid of this–“ He picks up the vial, slipping it into his pocket. “–and anything else you might have, and then I’ll run you a bath. We’ll wash your hair—and anything else if it seems manageable—and then change into your softest pajamas. Sound good so far?”

Spencer nods slowly, hanging onto every word from Luke’s lips like a lifeline.

“Alright. After that, we’ll take a break, if you need it, then order some groceries and get something to eat, anything you want, and relax. Okay?”

He nods again, opening his hand for his boyfriend’s touch.

“Can you walk?” The question is genuine, not laced with judgment like Spencer has gotten so used to, Luke’s hand gently taking his.

The younger brunette leans forward, gauging his body’s reaction to the simple movement—his head spins, splashes of color swirling across his vision, heartbeat roaring in his ears–

“Can I carry you, cariño?” Luke, like always, can read his response, waiting for his partner to recover enough to nod before scooping him up and carrying him into the bathroom.

“Okay,” He sets Spencer on the toilet seat, crouching in front of him until they’re eye to eye. “I need you to be honest with me, Spencer. Is there anything else in the apartment?”

He nods, dropping his gaze, eyes burning with shame.

“Can you tell me where?”

Spencer nods to the cabinet under his skin, heart racing, half of him wanting to take it back, tell Luke he’s lying, that he’s okay, even though he knows his boyfriend won’t believe him because knowing relief, whether temporary or permanent, is so close has been the only thing keeping him going for so long–

“Thank you, cariño,” Luke says, finding the small case in his first aid kit and dropping it on the counter. “Can I take these too?” He holds up an unopened package of blades, making Spencer swallow desperately around the lump in his throat, choking on his humiliation before nodding.

“I love you, Spencer,” Luke kisses his forehead, cupping his partner’s face when he doesn’t pull away, gently wiping away silent tears. “I’m so proud of you. Do you hear me?”

He nods, leaning into Luke’s hand.

“Good, because it’s true. I’m proud of you.” Spencer hums, closing his eyes against Luke’s skin for a second. “Okay. You said we’re supposed to tape this closed, right?”

He nods again, picking up a roll of medical tape from the first aid kit before taking one of the vials in trembling hands, taping the top before dropping it into the sharps container sitting on the counter.

“Hot bath?” Luke confirms as he stands, despite knowing his partner only tolerates baths and showers when the water could almost burn his skin.

Spencer nods, chest swelling with pride as the older brunette steps out of the room, trusting him enough to leave him alone with his vices. 

“Okay, cariño, one burning-hot bath coming up.”

They sit in comfortable silence, Spencer taking off his clothes while Luke makes sure the water is the right temperature before adding his partner’s bath salts.

“All ready for you.”

The younger brunette sighs as he steps into the hot water, fingers intertwining with his boyfriend’s as Luke sits on the edge of the bathtub, tugging his hand gently.

“Spence, I don’t think we’ll both fit–”

He sighs, conceding almost immediately to his partner’s wide, pleading eyes, stripping off his clothes before settling behind his, gently working the knots out of Spencer’s shoulders as he melts into the older brunette’s chest, eyes fluttering closed with a content sigh.

“I love you, cariño,” Luke murmurs, massaging shampoo into his hair, partner practically purring under the touch. “I absolutely adore you.”