#does he think he cursed Reid by giving his name to his son who already carried the name of one dead man?

[cookieandbread]

just an angsty thought I hade while rewatching 300:

what happens if Reid dies?

who tells Morgan? is it Garcia or is she silenced by the ball of grief stuck in her throat, trying to swim up in the ocean of tears threatening to drown her? is it JJ or is she unable to let go of her son as she tries to explains why he's never seeing his godfather again?

who tells Hotch? is it Emily or is she trying so hard to keep the team together that she forgets to keep herself together and falls apart? is it Tara or is she helplessely watching the BAU sink into grief, trying and failing to save the people she calls her family?

who tells Alex? is it Rossi or is he drinking the guilt away until he doesn't remember what it's like to outlive everyone he loves? is it Hotch, after he's been told, or is he too busy clinging to his son to make up for the boy he'll never see again and didn't even say goodbye to?

[jetaime-jespere]

Inopportune

An early Sunday morning conversation with @sweetsecretskeptinside about what could have happened pre and post Milwaukee inspired this little thing. It was meant to be a lot shorter, but you all know brevity isn’t my strength. This is rated M for smut!

As they say, timing is everything.

When Aaron slams the front door shut, he knows his marriage is over. Maybe not officially, but it’s the beginning of the very end.

 He purposefully ignored Haley’s final ultimatum, once again choosing this job over his family. And it’s not even the hurt on her face that lingers in his mind as he throws his bag into the front seat, but the fact that he didn’t even hesitate to make the choice he did. The disintegration of their marriage has built over time, an almost natural erosion of the intimacy they’d shared in the early days. What used to be Haley’s proud acknowledgement of the challenges of his job has turned into shades of resentment. It’s a constant ebb and flow of disappointment and hurt, coupled with the challenge of being rendered a single parent not in name, but in practice. Not to mention, the cold slap in the face of her all but confirmed infidelity. That had been the final straw. The worst part is, it isn’t his marriage that he grieves anymore. Grief is reserved for his son, the one whose life will soon change drastically when the inevitable happens and the papers are signed.

Aaron can pinpoint exactly when things finally spiraled past his control, much to his chagrin. The arrival of a certain dark haired agent less than a year ago, with a box in her hands and a smile on her face. They’d met before, in another lifetime, when she was barely an adult, privileged and proud, while he struggled to be one at all, barely making ends meet but worlds happier than he is now. The turning of the tables nearly makes his head spin.

And even though Aaron knows better, he’s driving to Emily’s apartment with his foot on the gas just a little heavier than usual. It’s technically against protocol to get her address from her personnel file, but he doesn’t have to, because what he’d never tell anyone is that he’s taken her home once before. Once, early on, when she needed a ride thanks to a flat tire. Twice, if he counts the time he drove them all home from the bar after New Orleans a few months ago. He’d purposefully saved her for last, and she’d fallen asleep in the front seat after dropping a very tipsy Penelope off. Emily had blushed with embarrassment when he woke her up, her eyes glassy and ringed with exhaustion, insisting that no, she hadn’t fallen asleep, and of course not, when he suggested walking her up to her door. I can walk by myself, she’d said, stumbling on her own two feet towards her building.

There’s another secret he’d never tell a soul. He kissed her once. To be fair, she kissed him back. It had been a mistake, they’re both abundantly aware of that. But San Francisco had been hell, particularly for her  - arson is never easy - and he had a front row seat to her more human side that had stayed so carefully hidden since she’d joined the team.

Aaron offered her a drink in his office upon their return, against his better judgement,  when he found her in the doorway with her reports in her hands. He doesn’t tell her they’re a few days late. He’ll cut her some slack on this one.  She quickly refused the drink, a nervous shake of her head, muttering something about getting home as she passed over the paperwork. “Have a good night, Sir.” The discomfort in her voice is evident, still unsure of how to read him.

“You did well in San Francisco.” It might be one of the first times he’s complimented her work, at least privately. “This wasn’t an easy case, you know.” His voice echoes through his empty office, and he can’t help but wonder how many more of these lonely nights he’ll have, just himself and a wayward custodian for company.

“None of them are,” Emily says somewhat dismissively with a wave of her hand and a nervous laugh. “But thank you.” She looks tired and drained. “I … appreciate that.”

“I was wrong, you know.” It’s about time he told her the truth. She’s more than proved herself at this point. “You are an asset to this team, Emily. Please know that.”  

To his surprise, she doesn’t even crack a grin, just stares at him in surprise, waiting for him to say something else.

“And I’m sorry for not acknowledging that until now.”

She nods slowly, her eyes narrowing just enough to tell him she still doesn’t fully trust him. He can’t explain why it bothers him, or the fact he’ll think about it for hours afterward.

“I’ll walk you out.” He doesn’t have to walk her out at all, they both know this, but he does, just a few inches too close to her than he should. It’s the subtle attraction to her he feels that possesses him to do it, and before he can stop himself, right before she steps into the elevator, he wraps a hand around the back of her head and kisses her, quick and chaste, on the lips.

What he didn’t expect was for Emily to reciprocate, a hand slipping around the nape of his neck. Her lips collided against his, deepening the kiss for a moment that felt frozen in time, yet all too brief. And before he can think it through, she’s pulling away, her eyes on the ground as the elevator doors open, then close, with a metronomic chime.

He stares at the closed doors for a full five minutes after she’s gone.

...

They both knew it could never happen again, and it wasn’t spoken of after that. Sometimes, Aaron has to remind himself that it actually did happen, and the fact that he even thinks of it often is another issue entirely.

And all of that aside, Emily Prentiss had surprised him. He’d all but fought against her appointment to the BAU and reluctantly agreed to give her the chance she deserved, and certainly didn’t make it easy for her in the early days and weeks. It’s a twist of irony that Haley was the one who suggested he give her a chance, for the stress of being down an agent had already taken its toll on the team but mostly him. And now, he can’t imagine the BAU without her.

Aaron knew Strauss would have it in for their team after Atlanta, Manhattan, and most recently, Flagstaff. Mistakes had been made, that he wouldn’t deny. But what he didn’t see coming was that Strauss would have gone after Emily, too. Foreign Service Exam my ass, he’d thought when she came to him with the news. He swallows angrily, yet feels an undeniable surge of pride, for she’d beat Erin at her own game by resigning. Another surprise, Aaron thinks as he makes the final turn onto her street. What he’s about to do is a gamble at best and downright stupid at worst, but it doesn’t stop him from taking the five hundred steps through her building, up the stairs, until he’s standing outside her door, his knuckles tapping against the smooth metal.

Emily clearly wasn’t expecting to see him standing there. The shock on her face is evident when she opens the door, her displeasure of him being there, in her home, even more so.

“Can I come in?”

Emily says nothing but lets him through, eyeing him warily as she closes the door behind him. It’s the first time they’ve ever been alone together, besides the kiss he’s spent months trying to forget. He wonders if she remembers it too. The silence is deafening as he takes a quick look around her apartment. The view of the Capitol is impressive, he notes with interest, before turning back to face her.

“The team needs us. They’re working a case in Milwaukee.” Best to keep it simple, he thinks. The fewer questions she asks, the better. “Gideon hasn’t shown up, and don’t tell me you quit or I put in for a transfer.”

“You put in for a transfer?” She asks with disbelief, still tense.

“They’re both still hung up in the system, so technically we’re both in dereliction of duty by not being there.” He keeps his tone even, reminds himself to keep his eyes on hers instead of letting them trail over her body.

“I’m sorry,” she says pointedly. “I can’t go.”

As he expected. “Right. Sorry I barged in.”

“Wait.” Her voice pierces the air, questioning his ulterior motives. “Can I ask - why are you really here?”

There’s the long answer and the short; he knows she’ll soon figure out both, and for a moment, grapples with his words. “I think Strauss came to you and asked for dirt on me.”

Emily stiffens, her teeth biting into her lip as her foot taps against the floor nervously at the accuracy of his statement. There it is, he thinks. He guessed correctly.

“Why would she do that?”

Aaron patiently explains his theory - the culmination of the drama with Gideon and Reid, Strauss’s desire for top leadership at the bureau, and her face twists into a frown when he reaches the final blow. “I think she put you on our team, and expected something in return.

Her reticence tells him everything he needs to know. “And to your credit, you quit. Rather than whisper in her ear.”

“I told you, I hate politics,” she shoots back, her tone full of contempt.

Aaron remembers that conversation well. It was months ago, back when he was all but annoyed by her presence, unable to admit her talent at profiling and maybe that she did belong on their team, as she insisted from day one. He’d been more than dismissive of her, and yet she’d proved herself time and time again. He’d messed up, and now it’s come to a head.

“Come to Milwaukee,” he presses her, his eyes never leaving hers. The way she bites her lip tells him she’s at least considering his request. Her head tips to the side, revealing her neck, and he swallows because his throat suddenly goes dry. “I’ll make you a deal. If your bag isn’t here, packed, I won’t bug you anymore. If it is, I want you on that plane with me. One more case.”

“I already turned in my badge and gun.” She tries to push him off but he sees right through her, unwilling to leave without her.

“That’s just hardware.”

Emily eyes him suspiciously, knowing he’s won, and she silently curses him in her mind because her bag is indeed packed, on the floor in her bedroom just a few feet away. But then something else catches her eye - something she can’t miss.

“Where’s your wedding ring, Aaron?” She asks coolly, taking full notice of his bare left hand.

The use of his first name could be considered insubordination. But, technically, she doesn’t work for him anymore, having given her resignation to Strauss, and the first thing that comes to mind is how much he likes the sound of his name rolling off her lips.

Not the time, he tells himself.

“Is that why you’re taking on this case?” Emily isn’t stupid - she’s seen the signs that things at home weren’t exactly great for him. His distraction around the team, the indifference when a well-intended question about Haley or Jack was all but brushed over. It’s been like that for weeks, and she’s too astute to not have noticed.

“My marriage is over,” he confirms, the confession ringing in the air.

Emily’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open ever so slightly, at a loss for words. She says nothing, just stares at him for a few long moments, blinking in disbelief.

“It’s been over for a long time,” he adds. “But today … I left. There’s a lot to figure out but it’s done. It’s been done.”

“And you came here?” The expression on her face is one he can’t identify but isn’t sure he wants to. There’s anger and confusion, but also intrigue, as if she learned a secret she shouldn’t ever know in the first place. “Why?”

“You belong in Milwaukee. We both do.” Maybe so, but that’s not the only reason he came here today, despite what he tells himself. He knows it, and so does she.

Emily looks indignant. “But that isn't the only reason.” She’s challenging him, calling him out on what he’s denied since that night in her office, maybe even before that. “Don’t lie to me.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron swallows nervously, doing his damn best to hide the fact that all he wants to do is exactly what he shouldn’t.

She steps towards him defiantly, deliberately invading his personal space. “I think you know.” There are a million reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s inevitable.

He takes a step closer, the distance between them all but closed, drawing a ragged breath that matches hers. When their lips meet for the second time he knows there’s no chance of him being able to stop things, and what comes next happens before either of them have a chance to think better of it. Aaron’s hands slide into her hair as he kisses her, pulling gently to expose her neck, and he gives her a moment to breathe as he sucks a bruise right beneath her jaw. Emily’s hands push at his shoulders, an attempt to rid him of his suit jacket, and it falls to the ground in a heap at their feet. But the sudden absence of the confines of the material gives him the leverage he needs to wrap her in his arms, and he does, anchoring her against his chest as he takes her mouth again with his own. It’s dizzying, the scent of her intoxicating as he kisses her, his tongue pushing past her lips, delving into her mouth.

Except Emily isn’t passive in her response to him, her teeth clashing against his as he explores her mouth with his own. She digs her fingers into his arms, bites at his bottom lip, sweeps her tongue across his teeth, then shifts to press her mouth to his neck as his hands drift down to the hem of her blouse. Aaron pulls away, running his thumb over her lips, cupping her chin in one hand as he looks her over.

He wants to tell her she’s beautiful but he can’t form the right words, just holds her chin in one hand, pushing her hair from her face as he slips a knee between her legs, applying pressure that causes her eyes to roll back just enough that he keeps it there. The moan that escapes and the buckle of her knees are the impetus he needs to lift her up onto the counter, a pile of mail and loose papers falling to the floor along the way.

Aaron gets his hands to the openings of her blouse, pulling too hard as the fabric tears open, falling around her shoulders. It reveals a practical beige lace bra, something he’s almost surprised to see - he had her pegged as someone who only wore red. But he deftly unhooks the back clasp, letting it fall from her shoulders, and her skin flushes scarlet as she’s bared to him. As he already anticipated, she’s as beautiful, if not more so, than he imagined. He’s done that  a few times over the last few months. He palms her ribs with gentle hands, much more gentle than his mouth had been just moments before, fingers dipping between the delicate bones and over soft skin. Emily mewls in his ear, her head tipped to the side as he explores her. His fingers smooth over her breasts, paying equal attention to each as he starts to kiss her again, then bends to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. Her hands grip the sides of his head, holding him in place as his teeth scrape and his tongue soothes, a rhythmic pattern of pressure that starts to blur her vision. Aaron’s hands span across the width of her back, his fingers stroking the delicate curve of her spine as Emily arches into his mouth, pressing herself against him.

“Aaron,” she moans, her heart fluttering against his chin, and it sounds like she’s forgotten to breathe this whole time. And when he fully stands, taking her face in his hands again, his eyes darken with lust as he kisses her, lush and full, one more time.

“Back,” he says, pushing her flat until she’s laying on the counter, hair spilling over the edge, her legs hooked over his arms. She perches on her elbows, watching him intensely with hooded eyes as he unbuttons her jeans with a deliberate slowness. His hands are steady as he drags them down over her hips and past her knees. The muscles in her stomach flutter as Aaron repositions her legs on his shoulders, carefully spreading her open to him. Emily’s back arches up even though he hasn’t even touched her as he presses kisses to the insides of her knees.

“Aaron,” she pleads again, needier this time, her eyes dark and her legs trembling on his shoulders, and when he finally touches his tongue to her clit, she doesn’t even try to muffle the sound that comes from the very back of her throat. He does it again and her hips fly up, her fingers sliding through his dark hair, then gripping his head in place. “Fuck,” Emily chokes when his tongue pushes inside of her this time, her hand dragging down her face as he continues to stroke her with his tongue languidly until her moans become constant, a beg for more. Not that she had any doubt, but he’s somehow better at this than she ever imagined.

“You should see yourself like this,” Aaron says darkly, his lips on her knee as he gives her a moment to breathe, still spread out on her counter. “You are beautiful,” he tells her and he means it, pushing her leg higher as his head ducks back between her legs, this time he sucks her clit between his lips and pushes two fingers inside of her, curling up to press against the spot his tongue had found just moments before. Emily comes almost instantly and loudly, nearly sliding right off the counter as she writhes beneath him. Aaron pulls her up to his chest, wrapping an arm around her back as she shudders against him, her skin glazed over with sweat. Emily kisses him, her hands scraping down his back as she tastes herself on his tongue, smiling into his mouth as he groans. Her arms wind around his neck, his fingers dip in the curve of her spine, a soothing comedown coupled with his voice in her ear.

Aaron is still almost fully dressed, and Emily wastes no time with the buttons of his dress shirt, almost forceful in her attempts to divest him of his clothes. “Careful,” he breathes, his hands closing around her wrists. “I only have one shirt.” He helps her get it off the rest of the way, followed by his pants and belt, and he hisses when her hand wraps around the length of him. Her own eyes widen ever so slightly, and the kiss that he presses to her forehead is reassuring as he surveys her kitchen and living room. He doesn’t want to fuck her on a counter, at least not now. “Not here,” he decides, and with more finesse than he anticipated, carefully gets her legs around his waist and lifts her up. “Bedroom?”

A jerk of her head in the general direction guides him to her room, and with her body wrapped around his, he carries her there, carefully depositing her onto her bed before he settles over her.

“Yes?” Aaron rasps, his forehead pressed against hers as her chest rises and falls in a series of breathy pants, her fingers smoothing over his cheek. Emily nods, giving him the permission he asks for, her legs closing around his hips as hovers above, lining himself up against her. The initial press of him inside, coupled with how sensitive she already is, emits a slight whimper from Emily, her eyes fluttering as she adjusts to the stretch of her body around his. It’s a few moments of complete stillness, careful kisses and gentle touches, his body spread over hers. It takes most of his effort to remain still, giving her those few moments.

“God,” Emily breathes a few long seconds later, when he’s fully seated, her eyes locked on his. At her insistence he moves, a series of tentative thrusts that only leave her needing more, her legs tightening around his back to keep him as close as possible. He begins to thrust faster, every drive of his hips pushing her higher and him too.

“You feel amazing, Emily,” he encourages as her hips meet his thrusts, a rhythm that comes almost easily to them both. “So fucking good.” His movements become erratic as he nears the end, but he’s determined for her to go first. “Come for me,” he murmurs into her ear, lifting her legs over his shoulders in one smooth motion. The change of angle nearly sucks the air right out of her lungs. “Come on,” he coaxes one more time with a firm push of his hips. “One more time.”

Emily gasps then curses faintly when she finally clenches around him, Aaron sealing his mouth over hers to stifle the scream that would most definitely be heard by anyone in the apartment next to hers. The sensation of her fluttering around him, moaning his name, her nails scraping down his back are enough for him to follow suit, and he kisses her once more before tipping over the edge too, spilling into her with a groan.

Aaron buries his face in her chest, Emily’s hands hold his head in place, for another few peaceful moments, ones that will soon vanish.

…

When it’s over, Aaron can’t help but feel inordinately guilty. He isn’t exactly sure why, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him he fucked this up, royally. Not because of what might wait for him beyond the confines of her apartment, but because now she’s a part of the mess he’s in, whether she likes it or not. Just add it to the list.

This shouldn’t have happened, he thinks as they search through the pile of clothes on the floor - some his, some hers - and it’s an awkward, side-stepping dance around one another, the first of many.

“You ruined my shirt, you know.” Emily holds up the torn halves of her red blouse, covering herself with her other free hand. Her skin is still flushed, her hair askew, and he wants to tell her she has other things to worry about right now than a torn shirt. Like the rapidly forming bruise on her neck, thanks to his teeth, or the scrapes that undoubtedly mar the smooth skin of her back, because he’d gone a little too far. It’ll be hard to explain that bruise (and any others that might appear) once they get to Milwaukee.

“You mean to tell me you don’t have another one?” Aaron quips,  busying himself with fixing his suit jacket, fastening his belt, taking note of his own appearance in the mirror. There’s a small bite mark on his neck that’s easily hidden by his collar, and a few on his shoulders. She’d given as good as she got, clearly.

Yet no one will suspect a thing. As it should be.

Emily scoffs, rolling her eyes as she disappears into her room, grumbling about it being an expensive shirt, but he barely hears her. Instead, the events of the last half hour replay on loop in his mind, one he won’t forget for quite some time. The tension between them hangs in the air even after the bathroom door closes, the sound of the shower permeating his thoughts.

This all just got a hell of a lot more complicated, and it’s just the beginning.  

“Don’t we have a plane to catch?” Emily impatiently taps her foot against the floor a half an hour later, dressed in different clothes - a pink shirt and a different pair of jeans. The marks on her neck are covered, he notices. Somehow he still manages to stare at her, despite his best intentions not to. “Or are you just going to sit there thinking about how you just fucked me for the next thirty minutes?”

By the time Aaron has processed what she just said, she’s already halfway out the door of her apartment, and all he can do is follow her to the car.

…

As he expected, Milwaukee is a mess. Strauss’s presence doesn’t make anything easier, and he certainly wasn’t expecting Emily to take matters into her own hands and almost get herself killed at the hands of Joe Smith. But it’s what happens, and less than twenty-four hours after showing up in her apartment, he watches from a safe distance as a paramedic cleans and dresses the wound on her forehead.

“How’s your head?”

“I’ll live,” Emily says with a wince. It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s lying right through her teeth, because she’s clearly in pain, not that she’d ever admit it. “But is it weird I’m glad to be back?”

“I’ll make sure it stays official.” It’s all he can say with the rest of the team hovering close by. He makes a mental note to order her to get medical clearance before she returns to the field as he moves closer to Strauss. She’s clearly ready with a few choice words of her own, having watched them all like hawks as Joe Smith was led away in handcuffs, his son in the back of a police car. There isn’t much to convince themselves this was a win. It’s anything but that - women murdered, a child’s life forever changed. Not at all a win. In fact, it feels like a loss.

As if today couldn’t get any more complicated.

…

Aaron drives her back to her apartment, because once they get back to Quantico, Emily realizes she has no other way of getting home. She’s taking out her phone to call a cab when he’s at her side, a gentle hand pressed to the small of her back with an offer to drive.

It makes her flinch and yet she’s too tired to turn him down; the thought of riding in the backseat of a bumpy cab down 95 makes her stomach churn. So she agrees reluctantly, and sits as far away from him as she can in the passenger seat of his sedan. And history repeats itself once again when she firmly refuses his offer to help her get settled.

Not a chance, she thinks, her mind flashing back to the events of the day before. She’s smart enough to know it’s only a matter of time before it happens again.

...

Emily showers and changes into sweatpants, being careful to avoid irritating the wound on her forehead. It still hurts; she knows it will for a few days, and that doesn’t begin to cover the headache that throbs through her temples. Only when she’s taking another dose of Advil does she hear the knock at the door.

A glance through the peephole makes her blood pressure rise. “What are you doing here?” She sighs tiredly. “You came all the way back to check on me? I told you, I’m fine. I have a headache. I will live.”

“I never left.” Aaron says honestly and simply, shifting from foot to foot outside her door. He feels exposed, scrutinized under her gaze.

“You’ve seriously been waiting outside my door all this time? You don’t think that’s a little … invasive?” She sounds annoyed and rightfully so. He has no right to be there in the first place. Just because they fucked once and kissed twice doesn’t give him those privileges.

His jaw flexes, a hand runs through his hair. “I sat in the car for a little while.” Admitting it sounds a lot worse than he anticipated. In fact, she looks downright annoyed at his revelation. “Can I come in? Please?”

And for the second time she relents with a heavy sigh, letting him past. “Fine. What the hell is going on?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He stands a little closer than he did before, reaching out with an unsteady hand to touch the gauze pad on her forehead. “I was worried … I am worried.”

“I’ve had concussions before,” she tells him curtly. “This is no different.”

“Then you should know you shouldn’t be alone.”

Emily laughs bitterly, now fully aware of his intentions. “And you think you’re going to stay here? Keep me company?” She waits, her hands on her hips with a shake of her head. “Or are you here because you can’t go back home?”

Aaron opens his mouth to speak, attempting to smooth things over because clearly something has changed since Milwaukee, but she cuts him off again.

“No. I can’t do this. I’m not your rebound until you figure things out.” Her eyes flash with anger, maybe even a touch of regret, which only makes him feel worse about it all. Maybe it should never have happened in the first place.

“There’s nothing to figure out,” he attempts weakly. “That’s not what I -”

“You need to figure things out with your wife, Aaron. What happened between us was a mistake. One we’re equally responsible for. But it cannot happen again.” She folds her arms over her chest, already going for the door to throw him out.  

“Emily - “

“Go home, Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.” While she wears a brave face, there’s no hiding the disappointment in her eyes, the subtle hurt she undoubtedly feels at knowing all of this was never supposed to happen. Only then does it come to him that maybe, just maybe, she wanted it just as much as he did, and knows it can never be. “And don’t worry. The secret is safe with me.”

He’s about to object - to tell her what he should have already said -  when the door slams in his face.

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 1: A Sweet Rain

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female!reader

Prompt: Your best friend is getting married, but it seems that you’re the one  who got lucky. 

Warnings: mostly fluff, language, a little angst, it’s pretty chill

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: So this is going to be the first part of a multi-part series! Enjoy this fluff, because this'll probably be all you’re gonna get out of this series! Anyways, buckle up and I hope you all enjoy! As always, my tag lists and requests are open!

Songs mentioned: “First Day of my Life” by Bright Eyes, “Samson” by Regina Spektor

Tags: @sojournmichael​

“Hey Pen, what’s up?” you hummed into your phone, fishing for your keys in your purse.

“Okay, I have big news,” she squealed, and you nearly had to pull the phone from your ear due to the pitch. “Like, really big news. News so big you couldn’t even imagine-”

“Out with it, Penny!�� You chuckled before finally finding your keys, unlocking your car door.

“Okay, okay... JJ and Will are getting married!”

“Oh my god!” Your pitch now replicated hers, and your hands started to shake as you sat down in the driver’s seat of your car. “I have to call and congratulate them!”

“NO!”

You jumped at her sudden shout, furrowing your brow in confusion. “Why not?”

“So the thing is... We’re kinda throwing a surprise wedding for them at Rossi’s.”

“What?”

“Okay, so...”

She rattled off the details of exactly what was happening, about how Will was in a near-death situation and how he proposed to her in his hospital room, and how Rossi overheard their plans to just go to the courthouse and decided that he wanted them to have a proper ceremony.

“So, are you coming?” she basically begged after taking a deep breath, winded after her rushed summation of the events that had taken place.

“Of course I’m coming! I’ll help you guys get ready and everything! Just tell me when and where!”

“Okay, so it’s gonna be at Rossi’s mansion tomorrow-”

“Wait, tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she dragged out. “Sorry it’s short notice. It’s kinda short notice for everyone.”

You let out a silent sigh, licking your lips. “You’re all lucky that it’s my day off.”

***

You were clad in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt when you pulled up to the towering mansion that you were only slightly envious of. With your dress and makeup bag in the back of your car, you locked your doors before following the stone trail that led to the front door of Rossi’s house.

You barely knocked once when the door swung open, revealing an excited and frazzled Penelope. “Thank god, you’re here,” she sighed, grabbing your arm and yanking you into the door.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” you questioned, trying to keep up with her fast pace that was honestly alarming considering the 5-inch stilettos she was donning.

“Everything! The only other girl here is Emily and she does not have a clue on how to color coordinate! And the caterers said the food might not be ready in time and JJ’s mom might be late and-” 

“Penelope, take a deep breath! Everything’s gonna be just fine. Let’s see what you have so far.”

She nodded, taking a few deep breaths before guiding you over to the pair of French doors that led out to the backyard.

So far, all of the chairs had been set out for the ceremony and the wedding arch and already been placed, but sat bare. Table for the reception were out, but they were lacking decorations as well. The only thing that seemed fully completed was the dance floor, which had a mat of hardwood laid out on the grass with a sound system at the head of it.

“Okay, you’ve all got a good head start. It’s only noon, and they’re not supposed to be here until 6. We still have time,” you consoled, giving her a comforting smile. 

“Ah, is this the girl we’ve been waiting for?” a voice questioned behind you, and you and Penelope turned around to see three men walking in your direction. 

“It is!” Penelope replied, beaming and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Boys, this is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, the head psychologist at St. Elizabeth Hospital in DC.” Penelope then shifted over to the boys’ side, standing next to the man you knew as David Rossi. “You already know this guy.”

“Of course, how could I ever forget,” you hummed, reaching out to shake his hand.

She then stepped next to a taller man with dark skin and strong eyebrows. “This here is Derek Morgan.”

You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

She finally stood by the last, and the tallest, man in the group. “And this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

You smiled at him, and he did the same in return. “I remember her saying you don’t do handshakes. It’s nice to meet you.”

“So now we’ve got two doctors to deal with?” Rossi playfully sighed, patting your shoulder.

“Seems like it,” you hummed, grinning at Spencer before turning to Rossi. “Though I doubt I’m half as intelligent as Dr. Reid right here. I’ve heard rumors of an IQ of 187?”

Spencer shrugged, a blush flooding his face. “I-I uh, I mean... Yes.”

“And that IQ immediately decreases threefold whenever he sees a pretty girl,” a voice behind you teased, and you turned to see Emily walking over to the group, a bright smile on her face.

“Is that so.” You beamed back at her, slinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into a hug. 

“Alright chatter-bugs, we’ve got a wedding to set up!” Penelope announced. “Hotch is gonna be here late, so we’re down a person for a while.” She grabbed your arm and began tugging you off. “I need you to help with flower stuff.”

You rolled your eyes and waved goodbye to the group before letting her tug you inside. Once you two were in one of the many living rooms, she turned to you with a big grin on her face. “What?”

“So?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, shaking your head slightly. “So what?”

She huffed, rolling her eyes as if it was obvious. “So, what do you think of the doctor?!” 

“Oh my god,” you grumbled, running a hand through your hair. “Penelope, I am not gonna date your coworker, no matter how cute he is.”

“So you think he’s cute!”

“Penelope!” You let out a breath. “Pen, you know I’m not good with relationships, especially with my job, I barely have time to do anything.”

“Neither does he! It’ll be perfect!” She pushed out her lower lip, clasping her hands together in a praying gesture. “Please, at least think about it!”

Another sigh left your lips. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

She squealed. “Yay!”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m for sure gonna date him!”

She smiled knowingly, nodding once. “Whatever you say.”

***

You were lucky that the florist you contacted had the flowers you needed in supply, and even luckier that they were able to have them all ready within the hour.

You were busy attempting to arrange the flowers and fake vines on the arch when you felt a presence to your right, watching from your peripheral as they gathered a handful of baby’s breath and began sticking them in the spots you needed filled.

“Thanks,” you hummed. “I was about to grab a step ladder for that, but you seem to have that under control.”

“It’s a gift and a curse,” Spencer joked, giving you a shy smile before turning back to his task.

You chuckled before grabbing a roll of sheer ribbon and holding it out to him. “Mind using your gift to tie that ribbon at the top of the arch? I can’t reach.”

He nodded, gingerly taking the ribbon from your hands and extending a length out to tie it to the top of the arch. You then took the roll from his hands and created a draping effect before snipping the length off from the roll and tying it to the side of the arch. 

As you moved to the right side of the arch to mirror the draping that you had just done, Spencer’s eyes followed your movements, his breath caught in his lungs and his lower lip caught between his teeth. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” he voiced, snapping out of his trance.

You smirked, handing him the roll. He grinned shyly back at you before mirroring the work he did on the other side. “I asked you where you’re from,” you explained as you took the roll back from him.

“Oh, uh, I’m from Las Vegas,” he rushed out, already feeling a burning in his cheeks.

“Really? What a coincidence. I’m from Reno, but I worked in Vegas while I was getting my masters.”

“Where’d you work?”

“The mental hospital there.” You shook your head, letting out a sigh. “God I worked there for like a year but I can’t remember the name for the life of me. Harrington, something like that-”

“Bennington?”

“Yes, that’s the one!” You turned to give him a smile, only to see a haunted look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, pursing his lips and casting his gaze to the ground. “I-it’s nothing.”

“Spencer.” You took a step forward before tentatively reaching your arm out, weighing the possibilities for a moment before placing your hand on his shoulder. “I know I’m not a profiler, but I can still read people. And I also know that we aren’t close, but you should know that you can trust me.”

He nodded, puffing a breath out through his nose. “I... Someone close to me is... Is one of the residents there.”

Your mind pondered for a moment, dots connecting right in front of your eyes. “Diana Reid.”

He tensed at the name, unconsciously giving himself away.

“She was one of my favorites.” You watched as his eyes lifted from the ground and flickered over your face, trying to decide if you were being honest. “God, she was so intelligent and kind and hilarious as all hell.”

He let out a small chuckle, relaxing slightly. “Yeah?”

“Oh absolutely. She’d crack me up all the time, my sides would hurt from laughing by the time my shift ended. And when she wasn't making me laugh, she’d tell me about her favorite author, read me some of her favorite passages.” A smile imprinted on your face. “Or she would read me letters that she got. Everyday she had a new letter, and her face would light right up when I handed it to her.”

Tears began to well in his eyes, and you moved your hand down to his bicep, locking gazes with him.

“She talked about you everyday. About her genius FBI agent of a son. She was so proud. And I could tell that you cared about her so much. Enough to get her the help she needed. Enough to risk your relationship with her to keep her safe.”

Spencer blinked back his tears and reached up to grab your hand, and for a moment you worried that you had crossed a line.

But that worry immediately faded away when he held your hand, squeezing it gently before giving you a kind smile. “Thank you,” he whispered.

You just nodded, letting the moment linger for as long as possible.

“Hey guys, how’s the arch coming alo-” Penelope began as she walked over to you two, her face buried in her tablet. She froze the moment she looked up, seeing the strange and vulnerable scene in front of her.

“Yeah, yeah, It’s good. I’m uh, I’m gonna go get some water,” Spencer rushed out, giving you both tight lipped smiled before hurrying off.

Penelope gave you a look as she stepped over to you. “What was that?”

“I know his mom,” you stated incredulously, the shock still lingering in your system. 

“Wait, what?”

“She, she was one of the residents at the mental hospital I used to work at.”

“So you guys are like on a third date basis with info about each other?”

“Penelope!” You sighed, rubbing your eyes. “I think that was the deepest conversation I’ve ever had with a stranger.”

“And I bet he can go a lot deeper-”

Your face grew a bright red and you smacked her shoulder. “Stop it!”

***

Your feet were aching by the time you had finished decorating the backyard, immediately falling into a chair with a heavy sigh the moment you placed the last centerpiece on the tables. 

“Y/N I think you may be an actual saint,” Penelope breathed out. “Thank you so much for helping. I don’t think I could’ve gotten this done by myself.”

“I’m always down to help,” you replied, giving her a tired smile. “I should probably start getting ready though. The party’s gonna start soon.”

“I’ll come with you. My stuff is all in my car. We can use one of Rossi’s many bathrooms.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

The two of you gathered your makeup and clothes for tonight before heading into the first bathroom to the right on the second floor of the mansion. That room immediately filled with giggles as you two got ready, helping each other with hair and makeup.

It was almost time for the party to start when you two were ready, zipping your dresses up and slipping on your heels when there was a knock at the door.

“Are you two gonna give us a reveal anytime soon or do we have to beg for it?” Derek’s voice sounded from the other side of the door, his grin evident in his words.

“We?” Penelope questioned, smirking herself.

“Well you know there’s gotta be an audience whenever there’s two beautiful women. Now are we gonna get a show?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a chuckle as Penelope stepped over to the door. “You ready?” she questioned.

You shrugged. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sighed in response before gesturing for her to open the door.

She pulled the door open a moment later, stepping out first and you stepping out behind her.

Emily let out a low whistle, motioning for you two to turn. You scoffed but obliged, waddling around in a circle before giving everyone a sheepish smile. Emily and Derek bombarded the two of you with compliments, boosting your confidence through the roof and making your cheeks burn bright.

Eventually, Emily and Derek and Penelope split off into their own group, chatting amongst themselves. That was when you noticed a timid body tucked away to the side, someone who had been there the whole time but had stayed silent.

“Hey,” you greeted, smiling up at him.

“Hi,” Spencer hummed in return, a shy smile on his own face.

From behind you, you could hear the group change their conversation from whatever mundane topic they were on previously to the topic of you and Spencer. The words seemed to blend together but you could pick up a few things. 

“What did I say, that IQ is gone,” Emily joked.

“Pretty boy’s got a pretty girl now,” Derek added, all of them giggling.

“You um... You look beautiful,” Spencer told you, blatantly ignoring the group’s playful comments.

“Thanks. You clean up well yourself,” you said, reaching up and straightening his bow tie for him. “I dig the bow tie.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. It’s very Eleven-esque.”

He smirked at that. “You watch Doctor Who?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, whenever I get the time. I’m not as big of a fanatic as Miss Penelope Garcia, but I certainly enjoy it.”

“Maybe we can watch the new season together sometime?”

You nodded, beaming. “It’s a date.”

You were so wrapped up in your conversation with Spencer that you failed to notice the peanut gallery wander off, evidently bored by the change of conversation. 

However, you didn’t fail to notice the blush deepening on Spencer’s cheeks from your words, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, a nervous habit that (you hated to admit) had an effect on you.

“We- uh, we should probably head outside. I bet the party is starting soon,” he stuttered out, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

You nodded with a frown, glancing over at the bathroom. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’m gonna clean up the bathroom and throw my stuff in my car, then I’ll meet you out there.”

A strange emotion, almost reminiscent of disappointment, crossed over his face for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. See you out there.” He gave you a small smile before stepping past you, leaving a lingering touch on your bare shoulder before retreating downstairs.

***

Luckily, the wedding ceremony had gone off without a hitch, every moment was perfect and extremely emotional.

Tears stains still lingered on your cheeks when dinner was over, and JJ handed you a tissue when she stepped over to you. “I’ve got a whole supply of them, my mom gave ‘em to me when I was breaking down up there,” she whispered to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thanks, JJ,” you breathed, hugging her back just as tight. “I’m so happy for you two.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty happy too.” The two of you giggled, and she pulled away from the hug to give you a smile before looking around. “And I’ve noticed that a special someone is pretty happy to see you, too.”

You followed her line of sight, playfully rolling your eyes when you saw Spencer playing with Henry. “God, who put you up to this?” 

She scoffed, turning back to you. “Hey, I may not be a profiler, but I know a connection when I see one.” She reached out, taking your hand in his. “You should really give him a chance. You two would be amazing together, and you both deserve some happiness in your lives.”

A sigh left your lips, but you nodded. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

JJ squeezed your hand before rising to her feet and looking around for Will. “Well, we should probably do the first dance before Penelope loses her mind.”

You grinned at her. “Have fun, girly. Love you.”

“Love you too. And thank you for all this. It means so much to me.”

“Of course. Anything for you. Now go dance!” You shooed her off with a laugh, watching as everyone turned their attention to the bride and groom making their way over to the dance floor.

The music started playing, and everything moved in slow motion as JJ and Will danced together, both of them beaming with pure love in their eyes. People eventually moved to join them, everyone swaying together on the dance floor.

You had sat at the table for a while, watching everyone make idle chat and have fun on the dance floor. This feeling of warmth and comfort was one that was foreign to you, and you wanted to bask in it for as long as possible. 

“All alone?”

You looked up to see Spencer standing in front of you, a shy smile on his lips. 

You nodded, returning his smile. “I guess so. Dancing really isn’t my thing.”

He pulled a chair up next to you, sitting down and watching the crowd with you. “Yeah, me either.”

“Really? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe I saw you dancing with Emily. And Penelope. And JJ. And JJ’s mom.” He scoffed, and you let out a laugh, playfully shoving his shoulder. “Maybe you’re just a ladies man.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“I mean that sounds like some player behavior if you ask me.”

You both shared a laugh, wide smiles stretching across both of your lips. That laughter soon faded into a comfortable silence, the two of you returning your gazes back to the dance floor.

“I mean, there’s one girl I haven’t danced with,” Spencer spoke up, bringing your attention back to him.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? And who would that be?”

Your eyes followed his form as he stood from his seat and walked around you, stopping when he stood right in front of you. “I believe that would be you.” He extended his hand out to you.

A small chuckle left your lips, gently placing your hand in his and pushing yourself to your feet. “You’re getting confident, doctor.”

At your words, his demeanor began to slip, a light blush blooming across his cheeks, glowing under the string lights. “Oh-I-”

“Spencer.” You squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough around me to be forward.”

He let out the breath he was holding, squeezing your hand in return before leading you over to the dance floor. You couldn’t help but notice the subtle glance Spencer shared with the DJ once you two stood on the hardwood mat.

The song changed, now playing a slow song you were all-too familiar with. “I didn’t peg you as a guy who listened to Bright Eyes.”

He shrugged. “I’m not. But I had Penelope look into your purchases to see what CDs you’ve bought.”

You feigned offense, gasping and shoving his shoulder. “You two were conspiring!”

He let out a laugh, beaming at you as he placed one hand on your waist. “Well we better get to dancing before this song is over. It’s only 3 minutes and 9 seconds long.”

You rolled your eyes but obliged, placing your free hand on his shoulder and stepped close to him, squeezing his hand once before you two began to sway, eyes locked in each other’s gaze.

“I’m, uh...” You sighed, pursing your lips. “I’m really sorry about bringing all that stuff up with your mom,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” he whispered in response.

You furrowed your brow in frustration. “But I made you upset, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. You didn’t upset me.” He let out a breath. “Honestly, it’s really nice being able to talk to someone who knew who she is. Who she really is. Not her illness, her.”

You nodded, searching his eyes. “I’m glad that you trust that I know who she really is.”

“I don’t need to trust you. You told me exactly who she is. She’s a kind, intelligent woman.”

A smile settled on your face. “With a kind and intelligent son.”

He returned your smile, his hand winding around your waist and pulling you against his chest as the song changed. 

You chuckled, searching his eyes. “God, did you guys just decide to play all the music I like.”

He paused to listen to the song. “No, I don’t recognize this song. Maybe Penelope chose it.”

“Of course she did.”

You listened to the lyrics, humming along to the melody as your eyes traced over his features.

Your hair was long when we first met. Of course.

Slowly, as the two of you swayed, you laid your head on his chest, letting your eyes flutter shut.

Peace.

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist 

Part 17  

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: Wounds, Blaming ones self, etc. 

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The car stopped a few moments later, not giving any sort of indication as to where they were. Derek cursed softly, unable to tell where they were only by sight. He only knew they were somewhere in rural West Virginia. He had seen a sign near a fork in the road that showed him a town name he knew to be in West Virginia. So at least he knew there was civilization. 

"Out, both of you. And don't even think 'bout running." Peter scolded you. You had been silent the entire car ride, knowing what Peter planned to do with you before he could announce it. 

You got out of the car slowly, unable to convince your body to move any faster. Unfortunately, this message wasn't broadcasted to your captor, who put a stop to your 'laziness' quickly.  

Peter’s hand collided with your back and a fist gripped your hair by the roots, pulling your head back harshly. You would've normally loved having your hair pulled by a partner. But not him. Never him. 

"Faster, dammit! I don't have all damn day!" Peter scolded. You felt exhausted just from the verbal abuse. He finally let go, shoving you forward. Your door had already been open, so when he pushed you you fell from the car and landed in the gravel. A few stones dug into your palms and a few others into your arms and shins. 

"Great, see this is why you're such a damn cunt. You're useless unless it involves putting out. Such a damn whore." Peter gritted his teeth. 

Derek felt nauseous and disgusted by Peter’s actions, hurrying as fast as his knee would let him to your side once he was out of the car. 

A hand shoved him away, causing him to stumble. "Stay the fuck away from her. You aren't to touch her. Ever. Understand?" Peter hissed. Morgan felt bile building in his stomach. He had always dealt with guys like this in cases, but he'd never been a victim. He could completely empathize with the fear that they felt now. 

"L-leave him alone, Peter." You cough, spitting out a pebble that had entered your mouth. Peter growled and gripped Morgan’s shoulder tightly.  

"Or what? You fight back, I'll dislocate his shoulder. You run away, I kill him. I thought we went over the rules, pet?"

Peter sauntered over to you, and kicked your stomach, causing you to cough violently. "You shouldn't have left, pet. Then just maybe your brother would still be alive. Maybe you wouldn't be in pain right now. You'd have little ones to keep you company. But you left." Peter sneered, delivering another harsh kick to your abdomen, stepping on your chest when you landed on your back. You had blood on your cheeks and in the corner of your mouth from the abuse, feeling weaker with each kick. 

"Come on, (Y/N)! Don't worry about me dammit! Fight back!" Morgan called, finally freeing his hands from the knot he had been working to get off of his wrists. 

"Why don't you tell him why you won't fight back, hm? Tell him why even after learning to defend yourself in many different ways, you won't fight me?" Peter gritted his teeth, smirking down at your helpless form. 

You already had tears in your eyes. You knew he had to be lying about your brother. But even then, he was still in danger. Everyone you knew was in danger if you fought back. You coughed and looked over at Morgan weakly. 

"Because, everyone would get hurt. N-not just you. E-everyone…" you sputter. Morgan straightened his lips into a strained line, watching you helplessly. If he pursued Peter, he'd get another injury. Then what help would he be to you? 

"That's right. Now, mr. Derek Morgan. Why aren't you playing hero and knocking me out? Isn't that what ladies love? The hero?" Peter asks evilly. 

"D‐don't… don't answer… D-derek please-" you beg. Peter growled and pressed harder with his foot on your chest. 

"You don't speak unless spoken to, bitch." 

Peter turned his head and looked towards Morgan. He smirked and tossed him a ring of keys. "Since you have open hands, unlock that door over there. The dark wooden one." He demanded. 

Derek gripped the metal ring in his hands, glaring at Peter. "And say I don't?" He asks. 

Peter rolled his eyes and pulled out a gun from his back. "She dies. And then you do." Peter threatens, putting the gun barrel against your temple. You swallow and stare at Morgan, shaking your head gently. 

Morgan sighed and gripped the keys in his hands. He then wandered over to the cellar-like door and unlocked it once he found the right key. 

"There." Morgan deadpans, tossing them back to Peter in an attempt to avoid yet another conflict. 

Peter catches them in his hand, a dirty smile on his face. "Finally learning your place. It's about time, D." 

Derek fought off a growl. He hated that nickname. Anything Garcia came up with was fine. Hell, he'd accept Der. But not that. Never that. 

Peter pulled you up by your hair and shoved you forward. "Get inside. Now." 

Your head was tender now with how harshly he was gripping your hair. It almost felt like he was pulling your hair out. You bit back a whimper and got to your feet, barely able to see in front of you from all the previous abuse you endured. 

You entered the small cellar cut out of the mountain, finding the smell to be revolting. Whatever had been in here before you had died. And knowing Peter? They probably did. 

You entered and stood still, waiting for your next instruction. Morgan watched you with pity in his eyes, trying to refrain from speaking. 

"Go put those chains on her. Then put the other set on yourself." Peter growled into Morgan’s ear. Morgan felt his anger boiling hotter in his veins, but after what he had caused before, he wasn't going to risk it. 

Morgan entered the cellar and gripped your wrists. You gave him a reassuring look, and laid yourself onto the ground. You propped up against the rock, holding out your wrists for him. Morgan gritted his teeth and clamped the first shackle around your left wrist, soon repeating it with your right. 

"Good, now you do it yourself. I can't have you open to touching her." Peter sneered, pushing Morgan towards the right wall of the cellar. He was to your right, and you were to his left. But just far enough away that you could only reach up to his knee. His restraints were much tighter than yours, making you feel terrible. He didn't deserve to be involved in this because of you. 

Peter twirled the keys with his finger a few times before he put them on a hook. "I'll be back. Can't have the mother of my children starving, now can I?" He asks, glaring at you expectantly. You felt the pit in your stomach grow, but you didn't say anything. 

Peter turned around and exited the cellar, slamming the cellar door behind him. You jumped slightly and squeezed your eyes shut. 

Both of you stayed quiet for a good few minutes. The silence was unbearable, knowing so much about yourself was just revealed. You pulled your knees close and took a heavy sigh, knowing Derek would be asking questions soon. 

"Go ahead… ask away." You murmured, feeling exhausted and tired of staying awake. 

He took a few moments, but eventually asked "Are you okay?" 

You chuckle weakly, leaning your aching head against the harsh stone wall of the cellar. "That wasn't what I meant." 

"Well too bad, kid. But really, are you okay? He didn't hurt you too bad, did he?" Derek asked. You shook your head, never looking down from the ceiling as you let out a sarcastic and tired laugh. 

"My stalker just took you along with me when you have nothing to do with this. He just made you lock me up to try and get me to hate you, and he plans on trying to get me pregnant. Whether I want it or not. And knowing him he'll do it in front of you t-too." You whimper, your voice cracking as you squeeze your eyes shut and let yourself cry. 

"Kid… don't think like that. Without me you'd have to deal with this asshole all on your own. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let him hurt you like that. I don't care if both of my legs get shot up." Morgan huffs. 

You let a small smile come onto your face. He was such a good friend. For him to not regret walking you to your car. For him to not want to leave you here. 

"Speaking of which, I should probably get that bullet out." 

"What? (Y/N) you heard him, kid. If I touch you he-" Morgan began. 

"He said if you touch me. He never said if I touched you." You insist and allow yourself to pull him slightly closer so you could treat his wound. 

Morgan stayed silent as he watched you, bracing himself for the pain. You looked up at him pitifully before you dug into his leg gently and pulled out the bullet that had thankfully not gone in too far. 

You looked up again, seeing Morgan’s grimace as he held his head against the wall. "There, I'm sorry. It was gonna hurt no matter what." 

"Don't apologize, dammit. It's that son of a bitch's fault for shooting me in the first place." He groaned in slight relief of his wound being empty. 

You shrugged off your jacket, ripping the sleeves to get it completely off of you. Morgan raised an eyebrow at you, but soon figured out what you were doing once you tore a sleeve off and wrapped it around his knee. 

"There. Just don't move it a ton." You advise, sighing gently as you backed yourself against the wall again. 

"Kid… we're gonna get out of here. Hotch, Prentiss, Reid, they're gonna find us. You know that pretty boy won't let you stay missing." Morgan chuckles somewhat. You appreciated the attempt at cheering you up, but at that moment, all you wanted was to sleep. Pass time until the devil came back and made you eat something probably packed with nutrition for a pregnant woman. 

"Derek… even then. He's gonna try in a couple days. A week at most. And he's gonna figure out I got an implant. Any pregnancy won't be viable." You alert him. "And once he does, he'll dig it out of me. And try again." 

Morgan stared at you in disbelief, unable to believe you'd know all of this was going to happen. "Wha-how-?" He began to ask. 

"You forget that I was 'engaged' to him for a year. I know him because he made me stay by his side almost 24/7. So I know how he thinks. How he behaves. And that he rarely ever lies." 

You sighed and laid a hand on your stomach. "And if he ever does, we're screwed."

○●♡●○ 

A few days later, they thankfully were getting somewhere. 

 "Hotch, do you have that list of his properties? I wanna go over them and put them in the geographical profile." Spencer urged. 

Hotch raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name and nodded. "Sure, I'll have Garcia print them out for you. Anything else you need?" 

"No, I plan on analyzing the letter again, trying to see if I can gather something from the way he writes, his grammar, how hard he presses on the paper-" 

"Understood, Reid. Get to it as soon as you can. But please, don't overwork yourself. You've been here since 4 this morning." Hotch warned. 

"I'm fine Hotch. Just trying to find them." He quickly answers, walking away from him and quickly heading towards Garcia's cave. 

If he were to tell the truth, he hadn't truly let himself rest. He hadn't so that he wouldn't wallow in the guilt he felt for your kidnapping. No matter how much JJ, Prentiss, Garcia, or even Hotch tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that had he not left without you, you would still be here. 

Spencer knocked on Garcia's door, taking a deep breath as he braced himself to face a very upset Garcia. 

The door swung open almost as soon as his first knock completed. Garcia looked up at him with worried eyes, almost on the brink of tears. "Please tell me you guys have a lead, because I am losing hope here and when I lose hope I eat ice cream and I can't do that here." 

"We don't know yet. But I was asking if you could print me that list of properties. And any clients of his that tried to sue him." Spencer asked. 

"What would that be for? He took (Y/N)!" Garcia asks. 

"I want to get a better understanding of what he's like. How he'll react to us going after him. I can't risk him hurting her because we made it overt that we were pursuing him." 

Garcia sighed and nodded. "Okay… I can get that for you. Just watch the printer and you'll find it." 

Spencer nodded and began to leave, turning around once more for a moment. 

"Garcia," he started. 

"Yes, Genius?" She asks with an exhausted sigh. 

"Do you… do you think you could open up her file?" 

"What do you mean?" Garcia asks. 

"I-I mean, maybe there's something there she… she forgot to tell me. Maybe I can find something there that tells me something about him." Spencer expressed. Garcia smiled gently at him and nodded. 

"I'll just add that to the print list and I'll get it to you as soon as I can. Godspeed. Now out before I cry at how pitiful you look." She says with a sad tone to her voice. She gestures and almost pushes him out, making him chuckle gently. 

Spencer shook his head and headed towards the printer to wait for his papers. 

○●♡●○ 

Spencer connected the properties, finding no real apparent pattern. He had already scoured over the letter a few dozen times, but was still waiting on your file. He circled an area in the middle of the map where Peter's main property was. That was the only thing he could find. None of these properties contained any sort of cellar or basement. Which was weird, considering the amount of money spent making these homes. Not even his own property had one. So none of the properties were viable to search. And they were all in a separate city and state entirely. Spencer realized he should have had Garcia narrow it down to Virginia properties. Or at the very least the tri state area. It had been a few days, and they had only received a location from Morgan’s phone once, and it proved them to be somewhere in-between Virginia and West Virginia. 

Spencer turned around and walked back over to the letter and tried to look over it again. Most of the language was possessive. He used plenty of 'me, my, mine,' and plenty of future tense. And the graphite was pressed into the paper pretty hard. So he was angry when he wrote this. 

Then his phone rang. Spencer widened his eyes and immediately answered it, hoping it to be one of the clients he had called. 

"Spencer?" 

Spencer was suddenly taken aback and found his concentration fall apart. "Mom?" He asks. 

"Spencer, how are you? I didn't expect you to answer my call this late." Diana asked. 

Spencer rubbed his face and felt an ache in his chest add to the rest of the weight he was carrying. "I… I'm fine Mom. Just… we have a really stressful case and I'm stuck on finding an answer." Spencer explained in as simple terms as he could. He suddenly realized why his mother was calling, and felt immediately guilty. 

"I'm so sorry about the letters. I would have sent them had this case not gotten so… personal." Spencer rubbed his forehead, suddenly feeling the weight of the bags of his eyes. 

"I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you that she wouldn't want you blaming yourself." Diana replied. 

Spencer widened his eyes for a moment and blinked a few times. "H-how did-" 

"Crash, you've never acted like this before, unless it was about a girl you said you liked. Which was rare. But I still remember when you said you liked that…What exactly was her name?" Diana asked. 

"I don't want to remember, Mom. She…" Spencer sighed. "There's just a lot of things I have to figure out. They're all relying on me. She's relying on me to find her. I just…" 

"Don't want to let her down?" Diana finishes. 

Spencer sighs. "Yeah." 

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, failing at his attempt not to cry. He wiped his eyes and inhaled sharply as he looked up. 

"Mom, I love her." 

Garcia walked into the room soon after, a grim look on her face. Spencer narrowed his eyebrows and looked up at her, mouthing 'What is it?' 

Garcia gave him a warning, uneasy look. Spencer sighed. 

"I actually gotta go. I'll call you when I get home." Spencer promised, letting his mother say goodbye before he hung up.  

"Did you get her file?" He asks, standing up and facing her. Garcia nodded wordlessly. Spencer tilted his head and looked at Garcia unsure. 

"Is there something in it I didn't know about?" He asks, looking at the manila folder in her hands. He stared at it, wondering what could be inside it that would make Garcia act like this. What terrible thing in your history would be that bad? He already knew the bad and the ugly, right?

Garcia took a deep breath. "Let's just say there's a lot to unpack in here. Like, a truckload. And not one bit of it is good." 

[winterscaptain]

day off.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

request from anon: taking hotch and the kids to the beach! 🥺🥺 rating: gen no warnings apply, just teeth-rotting fluff, shirtless aaron, and hotchner babies

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Open!

i got excited, this got long. so it goes. thank you thank you thank you anon for this request!

+++

You stand at the bottom of the stairs, hands on your hips, squinting. Getting out the door on a school day was tough, but getting six Hotchners into a car bound for the beach was a fate worse than death.

“Jack, do you have the towels?” Aaron barrels out of the master bedroom with a tote bag full of snacks, sunscreen, and assorted beach toys. He’d already packed two just like it. 

“Yeah,” comes the reply from upstairs. “but Isaac can’t find his shoes.”

Just then, another wail. “Mom!” 

You sigh, looking at Aaron. 

“They called you, not me,” he says with an almost-smile and a shrug. 

You swat at him. “Prick.” 

His laughter is the underscore as you jog up the stairs, finding Isaac’s shoes right away and tossing them toward his bedroom door. Isolating the shout, you get to the girls’ room. Sophia is tangled in her bathing suit with Caroline fruitlessly tugging on straps here and there. 

“Caroline, can you go help your father pack the car? Do you have your shoes?” You snag a couple of necessary items off the floor – a pair of flip-flops and tiny pink sunglasses. 

Caroline snatches all the items out of your hands and runs down the stairs. 

“Okay baby girl.” You kneel next to Sophia and help her fix her suit. You smoosh a floppy hat and a kiss on her head and send her down the stairs. Two down, two to go. 

You walk back out into the wide hallway, finding your son struggling with his strappy sandals. 

“Do you want some help with those, bud?”

“I got him, mom.” Jack pops out of his room and kneels by his brother, correcting the mismatched straps. 

You lean over to kiss Jack on the head. “Can you make sure he gets to the car okay? I’m gonna check on your dad.” 

Jack huffs a laugh, and it sounds eerily like Aaron’s. “I got this one. Dad could probably use the help.” 

Jack is usually right, and this time is no exception. Aaron leans into the car, one knee on the backseat while he struggles to strap Sophia into her car seat. He’s got a backpack slung over one shoulder and a tote on the other. His sunglasses have long fallen off his head and onto the lawn, along with his flip flops abandoned on the driveway. 

Caroline has planted herself in the small colony of bags near the rear bumper, playing with her sandals.

You approach him, placing gentle hands on his waist. “I got this, love.”

He startles, smacking his head on the doorframe. He curses loudly, and you step back as he rises, a hand on his head. 

He turns to you with a defeated sigh and you hide a smile. “Why did we do this again?”

You smile, grabbing his face and bringing his head down to your level, kissing the sore spot. “It’s your weekend off. You’re supposed to have fun.”

He shakes you off and shoves the hair off his forehead with a dry, “Ah. Yes of course. My day off and my wife decides she wants to go to the beach with our four children.” He undercuts his snark with a kiss almost inappropriate for mixed company.

“Ew!” Sophia shouts from inside the car. 

He pulls away from you with a little smile and caresses your cheek, leaving you to the crucible of the car seat. 

You take his place leaning into the car, tucking Sophia’s arms into the straps. She’s looking at you with her father’s eyes. You take a moment to kiss her little hands and poke at her ribs until she’s laughing.

Another pair of little hands grab on to your bare thigh, and you reach blindly for Caroline. You haul her into your arms and plop her into her car seat. “Hey little bug.” 

She smiles at you. “Hi momma.” 

You drop your voice to a whisper. “How’s dad doing?”

Mulling over an answer, she answers just as quietly. “He’s sweaty and saying a lot of grown-up words.” 

Dropping a kiss to her forehead to hide your smile, you thank her for her intel and finish strapping her in.

+++

By the time you all make it to the water, everyone is a little sweaty and a little hungry. You tackle the tote bags,  and umbrella, while Aaron takes the twins in his arms. You never get tired of watching Aaron juggle the girls, one on each hip, as they got older and bigger. 

Jack runs ahead, straight into the water, and the girls follow once Aaron lets them go. Jack is chronically helpful, keeping an eye on both girls, but especially Sophia Haley “Flight Risk” Hotchner. 

Aaron learned early in your marriage that setting up your beach chair was the first priority upon arrival. As soon as it’s set, you drop yourself into it and grab your book. Isaac takes up residence on the towel at your feet with his coloring book as Aaron continues to adjust, flutter, and assemble to his heart’s content. 

You and your family are blissfully unaware that Derek is currently kicking ass on the beach volleyball court not 100 yards away. Leaning back into the sand nearby, Penelope watches the game while Spencer plays a game of chess on his portable magnetic board. He will beat Emily next time.  

“Spencer.” Penelope removes her sunglasses to get a better look at...is that? 

He doesn’t look up. 

“Spencer!” She smacks him with her glasses and he looks up with a start. 

Penelope gestures wordlessly to the new additions to the beach, and they both study the scene for a moment. 

“Is that?” Spencer asks. 

“I think so.” 

“Call Emily.” 

+++

You aren’t quite sure what makes you look up from your book. Isaac is still coloring at your feet, Aaron and the girls still down at the water, watching Jack shred on his new skimboard. You chuckle to yourself and shake your head. The man will not remove his white crew-neck unless pressed, even at the beach.

Nevertheless, you look around out of habit, pushing your sunglasses onto your head, and spot a cluster of familiar faces by the beach volleyball court. 

“Isaac Spencer Hotchner?” You ruffle your sons thick, dark hair to get his attention. 

He looks up at you with a set of familiar brown eyes. He’d been this focused since birth, coming into the world with an alert awareness. It only made sense to name him after Reid. “Yeah mom?” 

He crawls into your lap, smelling of sunscreen and boy. 

“Look over there for a minute. Does that look like your Uncle Spencer?” 

He follows your gaze and nods, beginning to wiggle in excitement. Spencer’s head snaps up as Isaac’s eyes find him, as if he knew his namesake was looking for him. 

“Don’t you think those people with him look like Auntie JJ, Aunt Penelope, and Aunt Emily? And is that Uncle David?” 

Isaac looks up at you for permission, still squirming, and you help him out of your lap. 

“Go get ‘em, baby. Tell them to stay put until Daddy notices.” He squints at you, confused. “It’ll be funny,” you assure him. 

You watch Isaac sprint as fast as his legs will carry him until he’s all the way into Spencer’s arms. Returning to your book, you settle in for the show. 

Aaron and the girls get tired after a little while and return to the little hideout. You look up, and Aaron leans down to give you a salty kiss.  

“Having fun?”

He cracks open a bottle of water. “Surprisingly, yes.” 

Your smugness must show on your face because Aaron rolls his eyes and shifts his attention to your unruly children. You watch him take count, looking back down to your book to hide your smile. 1, 2, 3....1....2...

“Where’s Isaac?”

“Oh he’s with Spencer,” you say, as if it’s obvious, pretending to read your book. 

Aaron squints exactly the same way Isaac did only minutes prior. “Reid?”

“Not just Spencer!” Emily says, running up and scooping Caroline into her arms. The little girl laughs and your heart swells. You couldn’t ask for a better family. 

Aaron looks straight up into the sky, completely and utterly defeated. You could swear you hear a “What did I do to deserve this,” followed by, “I get two days off. Two.”

“Your ankle strap is showing.” Derek, in mock panic, throws his button down over Aaron, who swats at it immediately with a curse. “There are women and children here, man.”

Finally free of the ridiculously-patterned button down, Aaron instinctively reaches for both his hip and his ankle before realizing he’s not armed. 

He looks at Derek with an exhausted sigh, while Derek’s grin nearly eats up his whole face. 

“Lookin’ good, Pops,” says Rossi, coming up behind Hotch and clapping him hard on the shoulder. 

“You’d think,” Hotch says, raising his hands in defeat as you look on with a smile, “that you’d all be sick and tired of me after a decade and a half.” 

Emily barks a laugh. “Not a chance, stud.” 

Aaron rolls his eyes.

JJ plants herself at your side, enjoying the spectacle as much, if not more, than you. Sophia crawls into her lap, and JJ plants kisses all over her face, covered in sand. 

Jack calls from the water. “Uncle Derek! Skimboard!”

“Oh man, it’s on!” Derek calls back, already running toward Jack, who’s holding the skimboard aloft. Derek turns back, bouncing on his toes. “You game, Hotchner, or are you too old?”

Aaron, with another long-suffering sigh and a kiss to the top of your head, whips his shirt off and sprints past Derek into the water. You take more than a minute to admire his retreating form. God bless America and God bless the FBI.

“Too old,” Rossi grumbles. “I’ll show them too old.” 

He rolls up his pant legs and sleeves and starts to walk leisurely down the beach. 

“What the hell are they doing?” Emily’s shadow interrupts your sunlight, and you push your sunglasses back to the top of your head. 

“Skimboarding, apparently,” JJ offers. Sophia giggles in her arms. 

You look over your shoulder to find Spencer and Isaac a way off, playing chess together. He’s taken care of. 

“Couldn’t they get...really hurt?” Penelope says, sitting in the sand beside JJ. 

“I guess,” you shrug. “It wouldn’t be our first visit to the emergency room.” 

Derek puts forth a good showing, going a fair few feet before landing straight on his ass. Aaron does poorly, as expected, but gets two good runs in before he hits the sand hard, his board shorts riding up as he slides across the sand. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen Jack laugh this hard. 

You shrink back as Aaron stands, revealing a wicked sand burn you can see from your chair. “Oof. That’ll bruise tomorrow.” 

Emily puts a hand on your shoulder as the boys attempt to discourage Rossi from engaging with the skimboard. “Oh my god.” 

You all watch, open-mouthed, as Rossi asserts command over the board, still wearing all of his rings, his pants, and his button-down. You’re not sure there’s a drop of water on him, when he finally kicks the board up, landing back on the sand with the board tucked neatly under his arm. 

Aaron’s hands are in his hair as he stands frozen in shock. Jack and Derek go absolutely feral, running up on Rossi and engaging in all manner of manly theatrics. 

Eventually, Aaron comes to his senses and jogs back to base, leaving Derek, Jack, and Dave to their now-heated skimboarding competition. 

“Feeling your age, Agent Hotchner?” Your good natured ribbing draws a laugh from all the girls (even the little ones). 

“You,” he says, falling onto the towel at your feet, “are lucky I love you because you are pushing it today.”

“I love you too.”

[pinballwitxh]

THE SHADOW - CHAPTER ONE

summary: christine reid can only pick out a few happy memories from her childhood. most are filled with the struggles of their single, schizophrenic mother and her older, socially awkward brother trying to raise her on his own.

warnings: just a lot of sad childhood memories tbh, cursing, depressing thoughts

a/n: i’ve always loved the thought of spencer as an older brother and i hope you all enjoy this as well! it’ll get more happier as time progresses i PROMISE.

1 - CHRISTINE

APRIL 10, 1985

The Reid family had just gained a new member and Spencer was very excited to be an older brother. Instead of saying ‘goodnight’ to his mother’s stomach every evening he would now be able to say it to her face.

William Reid took his eldest son’s hand and walked him to the delivery room. Diana grinned when they entered the room and adjusted her hold on the swaddled newborn, waving her son over to her side. Immediately he lunged onto the bed and clung to her neck in a hug.

“Be careful, Spencer,” William reprimanded.

Diana smiled, “Oh, he’s fine, Bill.”

“What did you name her?” The wide-eyed four year old asked.

She hugged her son close, “Christine,”

The little boy grinned wildly and peered over her shoulder at the babe. She slept soundly, eyes closed with soft, little snores. He wanted to wake her up so badly and see her eyes; tell her he loved her and that he was so excited to show her his collection of state quarters.

Diana turned to him, “You’re a big brother, Spence!”

He giggled, “Can I hold her?”

“Not until you’re seated,” William said, “You have to be careful with babies.”

Spencer nodded slowly, “Okay, I can do that, daddy.”

Quickly he hopped off the hospital bed and clambered onto the couch next to it. William took Christine from Diana’s arms, a warm smile crossing his features as he looked down at her.

Spencer was nearly jumping out of his seat in anticipation when William brought her over. He shot Spencer a glare and he stopped swinging his legs immediately. Carefully he laid the baby in Spencer’s small lap, making sure both of his arms were around her securely.

“Now, don’t touch her face or anything, okay? Babies can get germs that they can’t handle,” he said sternly.

Spencer sat in silence, eyes studying her face very carefully. A small gasp escaped him as she opened her eyes, staring back at him. She shared the same eye color as him and it delighted him to no end. His mouth hung open in awe of her and Diana couldn’t help but start to cry.

William stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand finding his wife’s and giving it a delicate squeeze.

“Christine. . .” Spencer whispered.

Her tiny hands latched around his own small finger, squeezing tightly. Spencer smiled down at her, nearly bursting with excitement at the gesture.

“She loves you a lot already, Spence!” Diana squealed.

“Can I teach her how to play solitaire when we get home?”

William chuckled, “She’s not quite ready for that type of game yet, son.”

Spencer frowned, “Well, it’s not that hard. . .”

Diana sighed, “My smart boy, someday you can.”

Christine yawned and blinked her hazel eyes sleepily, but her hold on Spencer’s finger did not move. He slowly slipped his hand over hers and held it tightly, “Christy has the same color eyes as me, mommy!”

William turned to smile at his wife and placed a loving kiss on her cheek, “I’m really proud of you, Di.”

She leaned forward and kissed him deeply, “This is perfection.”

- - -

As Christine grew it was clear to the family that she was not intellectually gifted like Spencer. As a young toddler she was happy and loved to be outdoors digging in the dirt and climbing trees while her brother stayed inside reading or conducting science experiments. While he tried desperately to get her to participate in the activities he liked, she just didn’t care that much.

Not even Diana could interest her in reading children’s books that often. William spent as much time as he could teaching her how to play sports and encouraging the physical energy that she had so much of. He even let her “manage” the youth baseball team he coached for.

Not long after she turned six was when the arguments started. She would stay up late at night, huddled by her bedroom door listening to whatever bits of the arguments she could hear. Most of it was adult talk that she didn’t understand.

“I think mom and dad hate each other,”

Spencer day across from her by the door, “They won’t divorce, they can’t.”

“What does d-di, di-“

“Divorce,”

“Yeah, that, what does that mean?”

Spencer looked to the floor and hugged his knees to his chest, “It’s a legal dissolution of marriage.”

“What?” She asked with furrowed brows.

“When moms and dads decide not to live together anymore.” He whispered.

Christine’s eyes widened with tears and her bottom lip began to quiver, “Mommy and daddy are devicing?”

Spencer sighed, “Divorcing, and I didn’t say they were, Christy.”

“Do you think they will? Because they yell at each other?” She asked as tears began to trail down her cheeks.

Spencer hated it when Christine cried because it made him cry, too.

He looked away from her, “I don’t know,”

She threw herself onto him and wrapped her arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder violently. He jumped at the contact and tried to wriggle out of her hold.

He hated hugs. He hated touch.

“D-Don’t do that, Christy,” he pulled her off and gripped her shoulders, “I don’t like hugs.”

- - -

She was seven years old when William left.

Diana couldn’t take good care of herself, leaving Christine and Spencer to become independent children of their own.

Every morning he packed her lunch, made her breakfast, and made sure she got on the bus safely. Then he would walk himself to the high school and escape his chaotic life at home.

She made the basketball and softball team at school his senior year of high school (at age twelve.). He would wait at the school library for her practices to end and walk home with her. Oftentimes he sent her upstairs so he could check on his mother, never knowing what state she would be in when they got home.

Christine did not connect with her mother as much as Spencer did and to be honest, she missed their father more than anything. As the years went by he never sent birthday cards, never called and never stopped in to say hello.

Spencer and Diana had a bond that Christine wished she had. It seemed to her that their mother favored her older brother’s company instead of hers. She hated reading the boring literature she used to teach, she didn’t understand it nor cared to listen to it.

She hated the attention her prodigy-brother received. It was always about him and his wonderful intelligence. He won awards for nearly everything academic-related whereas Christine was just. . .average.

Spencer left for Cal Tech when Christine was nine years old.

For months he prepared her for a life on her own. He had personally written a book on how to handle people with their mother’s condition, which she was well-aware of by the time he graduated high school.

For most of her life they had taken care of themselves, mostly, and their mother.

She sobbed as he got in the taxi and left for the airport, her mother holding her close in the doorway. She realized that maybe she needed Spencer, maybe she did enjoy time with him.

Maybe she would really miss him.

“He’ll come back, Christine, I promise.”

“He promised he would come to some of my basketball games,” she sniffles.

Diana smiled down at her, “And I’ll be at every single one of them.”

- - -

Thirteen-year old Christine had learned to live without her older brother hovering around her constantly. She took herself to her practices and games, rarely letting her mother attend them due to her embarrassment of her.

She was an independent girl that knew how to take care of herself.

The team’s final games were approaching and her mother insisted she had to be there, though.

The first three games proved to be okay and Christine didn’t so much mind the fact that her mother was practically the cheerleader from the stands. In fact, it made her feel a little pride.

It was the semi-finals and the crowd was bigger than ever before. Christine found her mother in the crowd and something was very wrong.

Her face was pale and her eyes darted in every direction. It seemed she was shaking, but before she could say anything to her coach the buzzer sounded, signaling the start of the second quarter.

Once the buzzer sounded off for halftime was when she heard the frantic screams.

Diana fought her way through the crowded stands and tripped, her body tumbling down the bleachers. Parents and students gasped, stepping away from the screaming woman.

Christine watched from the court as her mother stood from her fall, desperately crying out for help.

A faculty member stepped forward to help her but was met with a slap in the face. Diana screamed and demanded that he not touch her.

Christine was mortified as parents held her back and eventually got her to the ground. She ran to the group of parents and tried to push her way through.

“Where’s Spencer?” She screamed at them, “You can’t keep him from me!”

It was a frenzy as the referees interfered, attempting to calm her down and calling for someone to get the police or medics.

Christine finally pushed through the parents and sat down in front of Diana, “Mom, look at me!”

Diana’s eyes were wild and unrecognizable, “Where’s Spencer?”

“He’s studying at Cal Tech, he’ll be back for Christmas break in two days.” Christine said calmly.

“You’re lying, aren’t you?” Diana shook her head, “How could you lie to me, Christine?”

She lungned at her daughter and tackled her to the ground, pinning her hands to her side as she screamed at her. Phlegm flew from her lips as she manically demanded answers from her daughter, who just lay on the floor in a daze.

It took effort to pry Diana off of her but when she did, Christine didn’t move.

She hates me.

I hate her.

And I hate Spencer.

Someone lifted her off the cold floor of the court, “Why don’t you go home, Christine, you need to be with your mom and call someone to help you.”

Like a robot she nodded her head and kept her eyes down as she walked to the locker room. She ignored the questions of her friends and coach, she couldn’t hear them through her reeling thoughts anyways.

She called Spencer from the hospital.

“Hey, Christy, is your game over already?”

“Spencer, i-it’s mom-“

“What happened?”

“She’s crazy!” Christine screamed as she left for the waiting room, “God she’s so embarrassing,”

“She isn’t crazy, Christine, you know that.”

“She freaked out at the game,” she sighed, “She hit someone, and she couldn’t remember where you were!”

There was silence on Spencer’s end.

“She called me a liar, Spencer, didn’t believe me when I told her you’d be coming home soon.” She winced at the pain from her bruised wrists, her mother could be violently aggressive during her episodes.

“Did you try the tactics I gave-“

“I did it all, but it didn’t work!”

“I’m coming home tomorrow,”

Christine laughed cynically, “Oh she’ll be absolutely thrilled that you’re coming back, her favorite child coming to save the day.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“All she ever talks about is you, it was all she could seem to think about during her freak-out. Not that I’m surprised,”

“I’m not her favorite child, Christine.”

“Bullshit,” she snarled, “It’s like I’m not even here, as if she enjoys coming to my games. She doesn’t even understand sports or care to learn about it!”

“Maybe if you spent more time with her she would!”

“I can’t because all she ever does is read from those ancient books that I do. Not. Get.”

“Sounds like you don’t understand the literature or care to learn about it, Christine.”

“Fuck off, Spencer! You know I’m not like you or mom and honestly I don’t care or want to be,” she screamed into the phone, “Don’t lecture me, okay?”

“You don’t understand mom, you never have and you’ve never taken the time to get to know her.”

“And I like it that way, she doesn’t understand me either.”

Spencer growled frustratedly, “She’s our mother! She’s sick, Christine, she needs you to be there for her and it sounds like you’re not doing a good job of it.”

“Of course I’m not, cause perfect you is the only thing she wants and I’m not good enough! I’ve never been good enough-“

“Don’t say that, you know that’s not true and that’s not what I meant-“

“I’ll see you later, Spencer. Mom’ll be overjoyed to see you.”

CHAPTER 2

THE MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

[hearts-upon-our-sleeves]

Undercover Madness - Spencer Reid

Title: Undercover Madness

Summary: In which Hotch enlists you to go undercover into one of the biggest drug rings in the US, which meant you had to leave behind the team and a special genius.  

Warnings: Drugs, Fighting (lots), Curse words, sexual themes, gangs, drug rings.

Word Count: 4000+

Terms: Y/N = Your name, Y/L/N = your last name.

Masterlist

A/N: THIS IS 100% BASED OFF OF SEASON 1 FINALE OF BROOKLYN NINE NINE, I TRIED TO ADD NEW THINGS AND MAKE IT MY OWN BUT I GOT THE IDEA FROM THEM. pls dont sue x. Also the first part the cast is Hotch, JJ, Morgan, Reid, Rossi, & Garcia. Elle and Gideon are gone and Prentiss comes a bit after you go undercover kk, also I made a lot of the agents and directors up bc i don't pay enough attention to know everyone cast in the show.  ALSO I CAN 100% DO A BACKSTORY AS TO WHY YOU’RE CALLED THE CALVARY IF Y’ALL WANT JUST ASK I’VE GOT IDEAS MY DUDES. This isn’t proof read its late okay. 

It wasn’t everyday that Hotch called you into his office before flying off for a case, yet here you were sat in one of the leather lined seats bouncing your leg up and down. It was obvious that you were nervous, you grew that way more and more as Hotch briefed the team for the newest case. You had no clue why you weren’t in with the rest of the team, but you listened to Hotch and sat in his office waiting on him.

You didn’t have to wait that long for Hotch to walk in and sit at his desk. Hotch flipped through a few files not speaking a word until he found one, to which he threw in front of you. You grabbed the file and looked inside curiously.

“This is the the mayor’s file, the case I tried to make when I thought he was laundering money, Why did you give me this.” You looked up at Hotch in a state of wonder. Looking into this case got you suspended the last time you tried to follow it.

“What I’m about to tell you does not leave this room under any circumstance.” You looked around the room a small bit before nodding. “I need you to get fired, and I need you to use this to get fired.” He tapped the case file, as you looked at him  as if he was mental. You tried everything to read him but you couldn’t figure him out.

“Hotch this is insane, I like my job, I can’t just leave it.” You set the file back down and set your hands on your knees looking back up at Hotch.

“I know, I need to know if you trust me.” You let out a small laugh that made him raise a brow.

“Of course I trust you, but I don’t see why I need to get fired.”  You leaned back into the chair you were sat in and crossed your legs.

“For me to tell you why you need to be fired, you need to agree to it.” Hotch locked his fingers together and met your gaze, you had to take a minute to think about what endless possibilities Hotch could ask you to do, Reid could probably tell you the exact number. Reid. Oh crap what about that pretty boy genius, the genius that would walk you to work and make your coffee with too much sugar, but you never minded because he looked so happy doing it. You knew deep down Hotch came to you because you were the only person for the job. As much as saying yes would kill you, you knew that it needed to be done and if blindlessly following him would help in any way shape or form you’d do it.

“Okay, I’ll get fired, but I need you to do something okay?” He nodded looking to you for your favor. “Watch out for Reid would ya? He’s a sweet guy and I don’t know what I’d do if he got hurt.”

“You know I will, but Y/N, the mission I’m sending you on requires you to infiltrate one of the biggest drug rings in America.” There was no way he’s gonna say that you, a FBI agent is gonna get into a family of incredibly dangerous gangsters. That shit just ain’t gonna happen. “I need you to infiltrate the Romanov family, get to know them, learn their ways and most importantly we have found a bar frequented by one of their sons, he is around your age and I need you to get close to him, have them accept you as one of their own. This is incredibly dangerous and I’m hiding this mission away from everyone. Garcia is going to work with you on creating a means to communicate with us under the radar. I’m going to be honest, there’s a high chance that you will die, but if you can get in it’ll be monumentary. I need you, I need the Cavalry.” As much as you took in you couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname he used, you hadn’t heard it in a long time but then again it was why people had been scared of you.

“What’s the story again? People keep adding onto it.” He smiled a bit showing the smallest ounce of compassion on a gloomy afternoon. You shook your head letting a breath escape you. “So are you in on everything or not?”

“I’m in.”

-

Saying goodbye as the team left to go to their case was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but you did it and over that week they were gone, you investigated the case harder than ever before and pissed off the director of the BAU. Which lead to a two-day suspension, and at your hearing you raised so much hell you were fired on the spot. You left with a hug from Garcia and a vague memory of your team- no your family.

That’s how it started, you got fired and never looked back as you drove along the highway singing Billy Joel with a suitcase in the back. It was getting late and you could use a drink and a nice motel, so you stopped at a bar. As you sat down you already felt eyes burning into your chest but you couldn’t care, you ordered and scrolled through your phone looking and feeling bored.

“What’s a pretty face like yours doing looking so sad? I’m Mickey Romanov nice to meet ya.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and I just got fired from the FBI.”

-

The past few months were crazy you had successfully gotten into the family, you had no clue but they all loved you. You thought it was because you beat out Nona in a shots contest, apparently no one could do that. You had incredible information and could easily arrest them all but you knew they’d all run and rebuild their empire, you needed an event where they would all be at and couldn’t leave. You needed a marriage, you’d dated Mickey for a while and were extremely happy when he believed that you wanted to wait till marriage for sex. But all round Mickey was sweet to you but cruel to the outside world and you knew that it was for the pure fact of you could kill him without even trying if he treated you wrong.  

You and Garcia spoke once a week through the mail, she figured out a way to send you new recipes that were actually messages, Mickey thought you were getting weekly new recipes but you were really just relaying back and forth with Garcia. You and Mickey lived together and as he would believe happily, yet still inside were raging feelings for Boy Wonder and Garcia knew it which is why she always included a recipe about Reid and the things he did that week. You wrote her back a recipe telling her all of the intel you got this week including your plan to get the family together by a marriage.

-

“Garcia, how’s she doing?” Hotch walked into Garcia’s lair after being informed of a new letter.

“She’s holding up feeling a bit homesick but I would too after eight months of faking who you are.” Garcia typed away on her computers pulling up the recipe. “They smuggled in more of the bad stuff through the ports, there's a lack of security in one spot and so the claimed it as their own. Do we do something about it?”

“No we handle it all after we catch them all, we fix it they will think someone’s giving out their information and I can’t risk Y/N to close off one port.” Hotch thanked Garcia and continued to his office.

-

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” You could have rolled your eyes there but you faked tears and happiness, yet a small hint of relief for it would be over soon.

“Yes, yes I will, I can’t wait to be Mrs.Y/N Romanov!” You squealed trying to feel a single ounce of happiness yet nothing.

-

“Hotch!” Garcia called running into his office in a hurry, she slammed the door finally catching his attention. “Y/N is gonna get married! Hotch this is her plan during the vows when everyone is there and all attention is on the bride and groom is when we hit. She’s gonna get to come home, after a year and a half we can have our girl back!” Garcia practically threw the wedding invite at Hotch.

“We’ve got three weeks, I’ll fill in the director.” Hotch read over the copy of the invite, thinking about the plan.

“But the director of the BAU will never let us go in he hates Y/N!” Garcia exclaimed confused and looking for an answer.

“That's why I’m going to the Director of the FBi. Also Garcia, Y/N has kept up this act for a year, that does a lot to someone.” Hotch sighed and looked down at the photo of Y/N and her fake fiance.

“What are you saying sir?” Garcia looked up with beady eyes.

“Let’s just hope Y/N can come out of this as herself again. I’ll inform the team soon, please keep this quiet.” Garcia shook her head and left Hotch to himself, trying to think positively that Y/N would come back herself.

-

“Team, meet me in the conference room in 5.” Hotch shouted over the team as they wondered why JJ cancelled the new case, in all honestly JJ didn’t know either.

“Anyone know why Hotch called us in here?” Morgan asked around the room of confused agents. Prentiss shrugged as JJ shook her head. Reid mumbled a ‘no clue’ as Garcia bounced into the room. “Hey Baby girl what’s got you so happy today?”

“It’s a secret but you’ll all see soon!” Garcia took her sat and positive energy illuminated the room as everyone looked confused. They were all trying to profile the situation, but were interrupted when Hotch came into the room, Rossi trailing behind him with a smirk on his face.  Morgan furrowed his brows trying to figure out what was happening. But it wouldn’t take him long since Hotch wrote on the board a name most of them were all too familiar with. Y/N Y/L/N. Reading your name again made Spencers heart stop dead in its tracks, he’d spent so long trying to forget that you left without a single goodbye to any of them. Reid was angry, he wanted to be angry at you but he was angry at himself for falling for someone who would leave without a single word. He wanted so badly to understand everything but the puzzle was missing a piece until Hotch finally turned to them and pointed at the board.

“I’ve got some explaining to do about a past agent, a past friend. Many of you may be angry that she left and none of you have known why, and it was my fault. I made Y/N get fired, then go into the Romanov family.” At that moment Morgan realized Spencer’s jaw had clenched and his fist tightened around the uncomfortable desk chair he was sat in. “Over the past year and a half she has infiltrated them, gained their trust, and even succeeded in joining the family, or should I say she will be joining the family. In three weeks she will be getting married to one of the sons, we have three weeks until the wedding to put together a plan of invasion. There has been talk of them storing all of the product at one massive facility the day of the wedding, but we won't know until we speak to Y/N again, she’s been sending Garcia messages in the form of recipes, she’s gone under the radar and it is the perfect way to speak to her. I want you all to find everywhere they are importing the drugs and keep tabs, we are going to bring teams in on the day of the wedding we attack. All of the files are being brought to you, you’re all dismissed.” With that Hotch took his leave and Spence did everything he could to not storm after him and curse his name. He loved you more than anything in the world, where you disappeared it took a toll on him that no one could fix, hell even to this day you were there burning in the back of his mind.

“Garcia, you knew about this?” Spencer was past being angry but now he just felt betrayed by one of his friends. Spence stormed out of the room, he couldn’t handle everything that was just laid on him.

“Spencer.” Garcia called after the boy wonder, turning to Morgan silently asking him to talk to the damaged boy.

-

“Wow.” You choked looking at yourself in the mirror, today was the day you tried your gown on and you looked absolutely stunning. Of course it was a fake wedding but you could at least imagine if it was real, with a different groom of course, maybe one that was smart and sweet and cute and now you were droning on and on, about the love of your life, Spencer Reid.

-

“Hey, hey, hey, the hell’s wrong with you?” Morgan chased after Spencer, stopping him in the hallway. Morgan placed his hands on his on Spencers shoulders, looking him in his already red eyes. Spencer push Morgan off and tried to continue until Morgan grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. “I get it you love her and you’re incredibly angry but don’t it out on other people because you feel like you let her leave, you know in that smart head of yours you couldn’t stop her from doing anything.”

-

“So who exactly was Y/N Y/L/N?” Prentiss asked looking through the boxes of intel. JJ laughed a bit making Prentiss raise a brow in question.

“Ever heard of the calvary?” Garcia piped up her fingers clicking away on her laptop, looking up for a second to see Prentiss putting it together.

“You mean Hotch was able to get the cavalry on his team? Dang I’ve heard all of the stories, she’s just plain terrifying but she looks so nice.” Prentiss looked at an old picture of you and Reid in stupid party hats and a feather boa draped around your neck that clung to Spencer’s shoulder. Smiles illuminated both of your drunken faces and you could sense the love the two of you had for each other in the picture. JJ looked at the picture and smiled too she knew how much you two cared for each other and she was rooting for you two to get together.

“She’s the nicest person I know, don’t believe the stupid stories people make up, yeah she can kick serious butt but it’s only to protect people. We’re lucky to have her, and besides as much as Spence looks angry and hurt, he’s excited to get his girl back.”

“His girl huh?” Prentiss smirked a bit, never knowing Spence could have actual human emotions.

“Totally! They are in love with each other!” Garcia piped up ready to talk about the letters about Reid, that she’d promise she wouldn’t say anything about, so Garcia didn’t say any more but tease them a bit.

-

Today was the day. Today you were going to get married or you could finally be free from this crazy family and kick some bad guy ass, you hoped it was the ladder.  You slipped the bottom part of your dress on over some black leather leggings, thankfully your corset was the top part but it was breathable so you could just take the skirt off to fight. On top of the leggings you had two gun holsters just incase things got bad, you prefered fighting over shooting but this would be one weird and angry day.

Mickey’s father escorted you down the aisle. You knew that Hotch was watching, you could see the small camera set in the bouquet, it was hard to see to the normal eye but you could catch it. Every step you took you felt enlightened for it would be over so soon but you knew there had to be a war before there was silence. You met Mickey’s love sick gaze and gave him the same look, it sickened you but you swallowed it down and took the last step as his father gave you away.

-

You looked absolutely beautiful and it made Spencer sick, he hadn’t looked at a picture of you in so long, so seeing you at your wedding destroyed him, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact it was fake. But he was there with every single member of every security team, they all split up around the building you were getting married, and Spence was gonna be there when they release the gas that knocks everyone out, he was gonna be there to make sure you were okay. Hotch told him you could hold your breath but Spence prepared for the worse, he didn’t know why he acted this way but his mind just couldn’t focus around you, he loved you.

-

“I  have never loved anyone the way I love you, Mickey.” You lied your ass off. “Standing here with you by my side makes me realise I missed so much the first part of my life, and I’m ready to start it off right with you.” You looked into his eyes with stars in yours. “It’ so hard to describe how much I love you, it’s like trying Baba’s meatballs for the first time over and over again.” Heartfelt laughter erupted as you gazed into each other. You smiled, for the fact part one was over.

-

“That’s the word, release the gas.” Hotch ordered, it was rare for him to be incharge on so many different units and ranks, but this was his case, the director of the FBI made that clear.

-

It took 15 seconds for people the people in the back to pass out cold, and another 5 for everyone else. You held your breath and closed your air ways off. There was a gas mask stashed under the food cart which you grabbed and threw it on fast, finally breathing in and actually feeling how light headed you were. You took a few moments to compose yourself, there were guards you had to take out on the roof, before teams swarmed this place like a beehive. As you walked down the corridor to the roof staircase you slipped your skirt off leaving your pants, as it was easier to fight in pants than a 15 pound skirt.

As you reached the opening you could hear the guards, Hotch told you that he placed an earpiece under on of the shelfs in the room. It didn’t take too long for you to find it, turn it on and place it in your ear. “5 guards on the roof, taken them out then we go in, you still got it?” Hotch’s voice boomed through the ear piece.

“Fuck yeah I do.” You smirked, you were back in business, you were you again. You threw the door open, greeted with 5 very big men. One charged out at you and you jumped over him grabbing his head with your feel and kicking him onto his back. Two snuck behind up so you elbowed both of them in the head using an ‘x’ motion. Another charged in front of you so you did a front aerial with a spin and used him as a landing target. Those four had been knocked out but you still had one more and he charged at you throwing punches, you did the only logical thing you could think of at that time and threw him off of the building, which startled a lot of agents when they saw a girl throw a huge man off a building, eh you shrugged you’d deal with it later. You walked back to the door and used one of the guys as a stepping stone. When you climbed down the ladder you were met with a face you’d dreamt to see for the past year and a half. Spencer. You two looked at each other not knowing what to do only just staring and smiling until you just ran into his arm and hugged him, stuffing your face in his neck.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He said into your hair, you could’ve cried right then and there but you just smiled to yourself and felt at home in his arms. But all good things must come to an end, you two still had a case and Spence knew that so he pulled away first, he never liked touching people or having them touch him but damn were you his only exception. Spencer escorted you out to Hotch and you gave him all of the information he needed to send teams out.

It was over, the year long mission you had, everything came to an end today, and go damn were you happy to see everyone.

-

By the time everyone was in custody and all of the drugs and other illegal things were found it was almost midnight and that was when they let you go home as long as you came back in the morning to give your statements and everything.  Spencer walked you home and you let him stay over, since it was so late and you honestly didn’t wanna watch him go. So that’s how you found yourself on your couch cuddled with Spencer as content as possible.

“Did you ever think about us while you were away?” Spencer broke the silence, looking down at you cuddled into him, you sat up and looked in the eye.

“Of course I did Spence, every single minute of every single day, I missed you so much and I honestly had to fake every single emotion I had because I was so empty without you, I didn’t want to leave you I really didn’t but I had to. Honestly all I wanted to do was say goodbye, but you were on a case and it was such short notice and all I wanted to do was just,” You paused. “I just wanted to kiss you and listen I just god every single time I think about yo-” Spencer cut you off he couldn’t listen after the first statement. He slammed his lips into yours and you kissed him back as if the world was ending, you two fit together like the world’s most perfect puzzle and every single second of that kiss was explosive.

“I’m so sorry I’ve just wanted to do that for so long.” Spencer looked into your eyes as you both broke apart. You just smiled and let out a small breathy laugh.

“I think I liked the kiss hello, better than the kiss goodbye.”

[mbmrocks]

Ready Or Not Chapter 1 - Deja Vu

Prologue 

                    ~~~~11 years later~~~~

Light streamed curtains signalling the morning as Spencer lay watching his wife of nearly ten years sleeping peacefully. Every morning he found himself doing this before he left for work. The sight over her snuggled against him, made him feel at peace.

Sometimes he wondered how the team of profilers he worked with hadn't figured it out. Well, apart from Hotch but he had been his boss. It had been something both he and Darcy had talked about a great deal once they got married. Darcy had not understood both Hotch's reasoning that would be safer in theory and Spencer not wanting to lose her or their kids when they had come along. She was and still is incredibly anxious about meeting the people who her husband had thought of as family. That had changed however once Emily had taken over as unit chief. The couple had decided that there was no need to hide anymore. Sure, it would be a bit of a shock for the team at the BAU but after years of becoming comfortable with the situation they had both agreed they were tired of the secrets.

All going to plan at the next dinner held at Rossi's, which happened to be this weekend they would reveal everything.

"Daddy guess what "

The sound of a loud squeal catches Spencer's attention, just as his four-year-old daughter Mia rushes into the room. A gapped tooth grin on her face she jumps onto the bed where her parents were now sleeping.

"What is it my little bunny," he chuckles at the bundle of excited energy in front of him. It was that energy that earned her the nickname. Right from when she was born, she was always moving around like she was hopping everywhere because she moved from place to place so quickly

"The tooth fairy came," she grins a dollar bill rolled up in the palm of her hands. Her first tooth fairy visits and she was so excited.

"That's awesome sweetie," Darcy smiles sleepily having just been woken up. Spencer hadn't really been too keen on lying to his children about the tooth fairy and Santa etc. By the time Ava had been born, she had managed to convince him it wasn't lying. It was more preserving their child like innocence really. How could he say no to logic like that? Actually, it could have been her puppy dog eyes; potato, potato.

"Hey how about you go show your brothers," Spencer suggests knowing Darcy would need a little bit of time to wake it. Not that she wasn't a morning person, it just took her awhile to wake up fully.

Nodding eagerly, she jumps off the bed before racing out of the room.

"It's like she never stops," Darcy shakes her head, "and shouldn't you be at work already after all Dr Spencer Reid is never late."

Before he had the chance to reply, they sound of their oldest Charlie curse rings through the house. Well, technically he was Darcy's oldest and Spencer's stepson. Although Spencer had always treated him as his own son.

"I suppose I should deal with him, he didn't come home till after we all fell asleep, I caught him coming in his window when I got up for some water" Darcy sighs reaching to pull the blankets off her as Spencer does the same.

"Babe you need to get to work," she begins walking over to him before he could protest, "I've got Charlie."

"Alright, but you call me if you need anything," He tells her, feeling slightly bad she would have to deal with the unruly sixteen-year-old.

"I know," she smiles peaking his lips, a hand resting on his chest. "Now go get ready."

Kissing him once again she slips past exiting the room leaving him with a smile.

How did he get so lucky?

Twenty minutes later he arrives at the BAU a sad sigh escaping him. Mia and his other son ten-year-old Elijah hadn't been to impress about him not being there for breakfast, and he understood why. It hadn't been that long since he had been released from prison, which had been extremely hard for everyone. That also combined with the latest apprehension of Mr Scratch he hadn't been home much. Thankfully there hadn't been any cases as of late.

"Spence we're needed for a briefing," JJ waves him over once her inside.

And he thought today might be another day of simply just paperwork. Nope that not how things work at the BAU, monsters never sleep.

Once at the round table Spencer looks to the screen for the briefing to begin, Tara, Luke, Matt, Rossi and JJ following in suite as Emily stood opposite Garcia.

"We got a call from Bridgewater Florida PD. The body of Rebecca Strong was found last night in a rest stop women's room, with and without things," Garcia starts her voice tense and slightly frightened.

"Woah," Luke blinks as the images of Rebecca's body and the crime scene appear on the screen behind her. Rebecca lay dead in the stall; both her legs and all her fingers had been cut off, along with a pentagram carved into her chest.

"Yeah and then it gets worse," Garcia's mouth turns into a grimace, two pictures of her fingerless hands appearing with the click of her remote.

"All the tell-tale signs are here," JJ grimaces slightly as she opens her file, her eyes widening slightly.

"Pentagram, legs and fingers gone," Rossi continues

"There even one neat aspect, her earrings and jewellery were laid out equidistant on the floor," Emily concludes gesturing to one of the crime scene photos

"Certainly, looks like him," Rossi sighs

"Looks like who?" Matt asks confused.

"Floyd Feylinn Ferell," JJ answers leaning back in her seat as Ferrell's picture was now displayed on the screen

"A psychotic cannibal who had been killing under the radar for years," Spencer concludes

"He killed ten prostitutes, then moved up to low risk victims," Emily informed Tara, Luke and Matt the three newest members of the team.

"He kept slipping through the cracks and avoiding justice, so people referred to him as lucky.

"The worst of it was he owned a barbeque joint, and he fed one of his victims to the search party," Rossi shakes his head slightly in disgust.

"That is a very," Tara is cut off by Garcia putting her remote down suddenly and quite loudly. Everyone turns to Garcia who stood the seemingly frozen and very out of character.

"I uh I have a computer," she stumbles of her words not even finishing her sentence as she exits the conference room. Everyone looks at each other, wondering what was going on

"Was it something I said?" concern filled Tara's her eyes licking around the table then to Emily.

"No, that's not you," Emily assures her. "Um, we were working Ferrell's case when she was shot.

"Garcia was shot," Luke's widen in concern and surprise,

"Ten years ago," JJ informs them, "happened right in front of her apartment building."

"Just a random act of kindness?" Matt asks the three newest agents were taken aback, but the new.

"No, he lured her into dating him, before she ID him." she continues. "Turns out he was a dirty cop named Coby Baylor and she was getting close to exposing him."

"So, he shot her," Luke voices his thoughts, "where is he now."

"He's dead," JJ tells him, the matter of factly

"Good," Luke nods glad to hear that he wasn't around anymore.

"Let's just give her few minutes," Emily suggest, "Tara what were you saying

"Projected cannibalism. The act of inducing others to consume human flesh unknowingly, you do not see that very often."

"Projection seems to be a thing for Ferrell, he fed the fingers of he then previous victims to a later one," Emily frowns.

"His way of telling us he was ten victims deep before we even knew he existed," Rossi pipes in.

"You think he's back?" Luke asks looking at everyone.

"Not unless he really lives up to his nickname," Emily tells him. "He's been locked up in the Hazelwood psychiatric hospital for the last years.

"Well, then it's a copycat who wants to ride the wave of horror left in Ferrell's wake," Matt concludes that being the most obvious option.

"Statistically copycat killers tend to be vulnerable narcissist," Spencer begins he had been listening to everyone conversation, formulating his own theories, along with what he was going to tell his wife before he got on the plane. "Though overtly boastful the harbour deep seated feelings of inadequacy. Emulating notorious crimes makes them feel powerful.

"Ferrell was filed to be mentally incapable in assisting in his own defence," Rossi informs everyone, "so he escaped without trial."

"If unsub is anything like Ferrell, he's got a taste for it and copy cats typically don't stop after just one," Emily concluded the briefing. "Wheels up in twenty."

Now that they had all been briefed Spencer along with everyone else files out of the room, apart from JJ who Emily had asked to talk to.

Despite only just hearing about the case, Spencer could tell it was going to be a long one. Now to tell the family. They were not going to be happy. With a silent sigh, he pulls out his phone entering a now empty office.

"Where Spence," JJ asks as she enters the bullpen, Emily following behind.

"The kids in there," Rossi tells her gesturing towards the office Spencer was now in. Even at the age of 35, Spencer was still treated as the 'kid' of the team due to him still being the youngest member on the team.

"Probably talking to his Mum," JJ shrugs as she watches Spencer pace across the office floor through the glass windows. Unbeknown to them he was on the phone with his wife and kids who he adored. watching Spencer pace across the office, through its glass windows.

"Not sure actually," Rossi shrugs, "

Back in the office, Spencer waited patiently for Darcy to answer, praying he didn't miss her. Sure, enough she answers within seconds which causes him to smile.

"Hey, honey to what do I owe the pleasure?" Darcy asks from the driver seat of her car. Only just beginning school drop off.

"Bad news, we have got another case," Spencer sighs, "It looks like it will be a long one, I'm really sorry guys."

Hearing this the sound of protest from his two youngest rings in his ears. This was the part he hated about his jobs; not being there for his kids, his wife, his family. Seriously he was the luckiest man in the world, and he couldn't have asked for more.

When he got back things were going to change; all was going to be revealed

Although that was what he thought.

_____________________

Another chapter up and posted

Feel free to let me know what you think and what will happen 😉😉

Molly XX

[beautiful-bau-beau]

If You Love Someone

Tale as Old as Time Masterlist

-

“This is some storm.“ Maeve shuddered, pulling a covering tightly around her shoulders, holding an umbrella over Diane’s head. The aforementioned woman wore thick, warm furs to protect herself against the harsh wind and rain as they walked through the village, heading to the tavern.

"At least we’re not tied to a tree in the middle of nowhere… surrounded by bloodthirsty wolves.” She whispered. Maeve did not know whether she should laugh or cry as she thought of Diana all alone in the cold. “You know it’s not too late. We could always turn back…” Diane’s eyes narrowed and she turned to her companion.

“Why would you want to? The old spinster is getting what she deserves after treating me so harshly. Calling me ugly, denying me from my one true love. Impossible.” Diane snapped, “My god Maeve, why do you care about her well-being? You can not even hold an umbrella correctly!”

Maeve immediately lifted up the umbrella, flushing with shame. “It’s just… every time I close my eyes… I picture Diana stranded alone. And then when I open them… she’s… here!” The woman gasped, arm lowering.

“Do not be ridiculous Maeve, the idea of that is simply…inconceivable….Just as your ability to hold the umbrella!” She huffed, turning to see Maeve staring at something behind her.

The library was dark, but the rooms above it were dimly lit with candles. Diane could not believe her eyes when she saw Diana in the window, a woman beside her. “Who is she?” Her tone was similar to before Diana was tied up, making the hair on the back Maeve’s neck stand up.

“That is Emily Prentiss. She takes care of the books when the director of the library is away on business.” Diane simply said nothing, but sharply turned her heel, marching away.

“Miss?” Maeve called, running after her. “Where are we headed? What is going on?”

“Maeve, I have a plan. A plan to get everything I ever wanted, and no one can stop me.” - (Your POV)

“What are you doing y/n?” A voice inquired from behind your figure. You spun to find Alex Blake behind you. She had been the castle librarian, historian, and your old tutor, but she had been transformed into a bookend. You had not see her much since the curse was placed. “It looks as if you are polishing the mirror you were gifted.”

“‘Gifted’ does not seem like the correct word.” You mumbled, placing the object upon your table.

“Nevertheless dear, my question still remains. You seem to be anxious, why is that?”

“I was hoping to give this to Spencer. He seems lonely and I believe if he were to see his mother, he may feel more at ease here. I know I have already introduced him to the wonders of the library, but I do not think I have given him enough. He saved my life, and has somehow given new meaning to it.” Alex smiled softly at your sentiment.

“I realized I have now changed. I wake up every morning, excited and overjoyed that he is apart of my life now. The staff used to be so cold, but now I know and care for them. I am no longer the person I used to be….That is all thanks to him.”

“I believe that you are in love.” Alex chuckled. “That is wonderful! It is what every one has been waiting for!”

“Then you know I cannot allow him to remain here?” You sighed, turning away from her gaze. “I care for him too much to allow him to be separated form his mother, and forced to be with me.”

“Y/n… there is to be a ball for the two of you tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes. He has been helping restore the palace to its former glory, and I suggested making use of the ballroom. I hope to…” You broke off your sentence. “The mirror will be his to use however he wishes. A…parting gift. My goodbye.”

“I believe you are very wise Princess. I believe love is like a dove. You must give it room to venture, and be free. The tighter you try to hold onto it, the more it will try to get away.” You stayed quiet, looking out your window.

“You have taught me well. I will and have always treasured you, even if I have never said it.” You failed to notice between your conversation that she climbed up on your vanity, pressing her cold lips on your cheek.

“I have always known. I wish you luck, for parting is never easy, no matter how many times you have done it.” -

(Third Person POV)

“Mademoiselle Turner, a woman of high stature, such as yourself must know that I don’t usually leave the asylum in the middle of the night, but I believe you will make it worth my while.” Mousier George Foyet, head of the insane asylum, sat across from the two women in the parlor of Diane’s home.

“My good sir.” Diane faked a smile as she handed a few gold pieces to Maeve, who stood beside her. The servant passed the currency to the leering man who wasted o time to inspect its realness. “The situation resembles this. I’ve got my heart set on marrying Spencer Reid, but he needs a little… persuasion.”

“Mousier Reid is very concerned about the health of his mother. The worry is…overtaking his time.” Maeve carefully clarified.

“Everyone knows his mother is an absolute lunatic. She forced me to help her the other night. She was convinced that Spencer was taken by a terrible beast, and mentioned talking teacups, a castle in the middle of the forest, and that it was covered in snow. May I remind you that it is summer?”

“I believe the woman sounds harmless, even if her brain may be starting to go.” Foyet sighed, rubbing his nails on his shirt, eyeing the objects around him greedily.

“We may agree to disagree. My point, Mousier, is that Spencer would do anything for the safety of his mother.” Her eyes gave away the meaning of her seemingly ordinary phrase.

“So am I to understand that you wish for me to throw Diana in the asylum as bait to persuade the young man into marriage with you?” Diane nodded. “I do not believe I understand why you would chase after a man who clearly does not have any interest in you when there are so many others that do.”

“I am not paying for you to understand, you simpleton.” She barked, shoulders squaring up. “Do you agree to my terms?”

“You drive a hard bargain Diane.” Foyet snickered, standing and bowing deeply. “But how could I refuse?” -

Once Diana had been healthy enough to venture outside of the library, she insisted on Emily leading her over to the tavern, and exposing Diane for who she truly was. She was convinced that with Emily by her side, everyone would finally believe her. The large crowd the tavern inhibited quieted down immediately at the sight of the two educated women. The silence was broke down by a triumphant cry.

“Diana!” Diane cheered, running over to the older woman and wrapping her arms around her. “Maeve and I were so concerned! After you ran into the forest we tried looking for you but we feared the worst!”

“The lies that slip from your tongue are despicable. You tried to kill me and you left me to the wolves.” Diana pushed herself away, crossing her arms.

“Darling, It is s one thing to rave about your beasts and castles but it is another thing to accuse me of attempted murder.” The crowd mumbled incoherent ramblings.

“Diana… do you have any proof of what you’re saying?” A young barmaid, Elle Greenaway asked, a hand coming to rest upon Diana’s shoulder.

“Ask Emily, she rescued me from death.”

“Emily Prentiss! You would hang your accusations on the testimony… of an old spinster who wastes her time reading books when she is supposed to be watching over them?” Diane chuckled, a few chiming in with her. Emily kept her calm, observing the selfish airhead in front of her.

“I believe Diana mentioned that Mademoiselle Donovan was also present. She saw it all.” Emily uttered.

“Me?” Maeve squeaked, eyes wide. Diane never mentioned that she would also be involved in this plan.

Ah, right. Don’t take my word for it. Maeve… my dearest companion… did I… your oldest friend and most loyal compatriot… try to kill the mother of our dear friend Spencer?“ The way Diane smiled may have seemed innocent to others, but to Maeve it was almost as terrifying as knife to her throat. If she answered truthfully it was highly doubtful that anyone would believe her seeing as Diane’s parents helped found the town of Villanueve. If she lied, as Diane wished her to do, Maeve would live to see the next morning.

"No, she did not. Diane is the sweetest person I have ever known and is not capable of any malicious thought, let alone a murderous action.” Maeve swallowed thickly not being able to look anyone in the eye.

“Diana… I dealt with your delusions the other night but it pains me to say that I believe you have become a danger not only to yourself, but to others. No wonder Spencer ran away. He must have been so exhausted having to deal with your lunatic ramblings and accusations. You need help, sweetnesss. A place to heal your troubled mind. Everything’s going to be fine. Let me introduce you to my friend, Mousier Foyet.” At the mention of his name, the man seemed to appear out of thin air.

“No…no please you cannot do this to me! You cannot hide me away because I chose not to subject my son to your horrors.” Diana tried to step away from Foyet’s grasp, only to bump into associates of his. “Emily! Elle! Someone, please!” She turned, hoping to find a compassionate face only to realize that Emily was gone, and no one dared to speak up.

“Please!” Diana screamed as she was dragged into a cage within a carriage. Her begs and pleas fell on deaf ears, as did her sobs. “Spencer….someone….help me.”

- @phoenixwwitch @totallynotn3rdy95 @cool-bluemoon @amarislestrange @rogerthatsgt @marieannfandoms @bekaperk  @dontshootmespence @mariadrinaa @charcoalblack-ish @queenelsaschyler @captainreid @drunk-fairytale @thepartofmethatyouneverfind

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Rafael Barba (and Aaron Hotchner) | Snipped (Three) | Eluded

Part One | Part Two 

Imagine being part of the BAU and being sent to Manhattan to investigate a case. 

Recap: With no soulmate, you had spent most of your life without love. And now, you had fallen in love with your supervisor, Aaron Hotchner. The team had been called to Manhattan to investigate the case and you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something you’re missing. 

An odd feeling sat at the pit of Rafael Barba’s stomach.

It was not unlike the feeling he had on his first day as an attorney: a fluttery anxiousness mixed with unrelentless anticipation.The feeling had spread its way through his stomach up to his chest, where it had settled for the past half day.  But something else was added into this strange concoction of emotions, though he didn’t know quite how to word it.

Ironic. Since his entire life, words had been the only thing that didn’t elude him, while everything else seemed to. Rapists and murderers eluded him, slipping away at the hands of a fickle, nullified jury; unlike today, sometimes emotions eluded him, hidden behind the veneer of sarcasm and snark he had coated every sharp tongued word in; and love.

And the last, was not for lack of trying.

How he had tried with Lauren in his youth, spending long nights gazing at the band around his finger to turn, for a rosy hue to blossom as their lips met, like a red dipped paint brush in a clear cup of water. How he prayed for it, his eyes fluttering open after they separated, both their gazes falling on their interlaced fingers. Rafael was blessed with sharp eyes, able to catch a flicker of emotion in another, just he did with juries now, but then, it caught the elusive glimmer of disappointment upon Lauren’s face: white bands with not a hint of color. And no surprise to him, it was only a week later they broke up.

He began to think then, perhaps the stories of soulmates didn’t apply to him, a curse passed on by his mother whose very own soulmate had turned on his true love and family. His mother was alone, and as was he. And though he was young, he couldn’t shake this ever permeating feeling of loneliness.  

However, it would only be a year later that he would look back and think it was for the best, as there was someone else, someone oh-so-better. Or so he thought.

Yelina.

The sound of her name still caught in his throat and sent an acute pang through his heart. Memories of the days they spent, lazy days filled with his hand running through her long black tresses and sweet kisses filled with sugar coated words and empty promises of love beyond that of soulmates and fairy tales of true love. And Rafael had bought this idea as if he was a desert wanderer and she was his ocean; his cure all for his loneliness; and his true love. But it only was too soon that the mirage ended. Ended with her wrapped in his sheets with his best friend, their bodies barely hidden under the thin sheets and the smell of their act sending a wave of nausea through his body.

Eluded.

It was then he made the decision to instead to stake his fate with something utterly more reliable: the law. He applied to Harvard and never looked back, but loneliness only followed, faithful as he foolishly was. He sat on the sidelines his entire life, watching the people around him got married, had children, and found their other half. There he was.

It had eluded him, yet again. 

However, crime didn’t elude Manhattan, and annoyance sure as hell didn’t elude him.

“They’re late,” Rafael grumbled, tapping his foot, as he stood in Olivia’s office, flipping through the files of the women for the millionth time, and yet, the pictures only seemed to become more gruesome. There were some cases that would stick with him throughout his career and seeing as he couldn’t shake the image of their blood from their necks and wrists from his mind, this was going to be one of them. “I thought they had their own jet,”

“They do,” Olivia looked at her phone, checking for updates, as one appeared to her apparent relief. He had been complaining more than a little today. “They’re stuck in traffic,” Rafael snorted, his anxiety not soothed by this news, only growing more agitated.

“Wonderful, a team of behavioral experts and geniuses can’t navigate Manhattan,” His remark was quite loud, catching the attention of several officers in the bullpen, including the attention of Rollins and Carisi, who shot them questioning looks. It was then, Olivia got to her feet, shutting the door with a sigh. Rafael looked up from his phone to see her with crossed arms and an expectant look plastered on her features. His brow furrowed. “What?”

“Why are you even more irritable than usual?” Rafael bristled at her question, choosing not to reply, instead handing her a newspaper, as he tried to ignore the fluttering in his chest that hadn’t stopped all day. Liv raised her eyebrows at the story: Alex had made the papers again, released from jail and now side by side with Yelina. Even in the black and white picture, he could spot the dark rings around their pinkies as they walked to their car. He wanted so badly for this day to end, but as his eyes flickered up at some commotion, it only seemed it was just beginning.

“It’s them,” Olivia threw open the door, striding out to meet them. Only three members had arrived. The first one he spotted was a lanky, skinny stick of a man, his collar askew, but his mind seemed elsewhere, or at least, his eyes were, as they scanned the room with haste and precision. A shorter, blonde woman followed behind him, her confidence and openness obvious as she shook Olivia’s hand and gestured to the other man beside her. This man seemed to be their leader, made obvious by the way Olivia regarded him. His stern expression was unwavering, eyes narrowed and head nodding at Olivia’s words, his gaze shifting to Rafael for a brief moment, before back to Olivia again.

Rafael then chose to walk out, hands in his pocket, just as Olivia asked: “And where’s the rest of your team?”

“Three of our members are at the most recent crime scene,” The fair haired woman spoke up, “SSA Rossi is on his way now, he was doing a lecture up in Maine, and he’s coming back down to join the team at the site,”

“Carisi, Rollins, go join their team members at the crime scene, see what you can learn,” Olivia ordered, as the two got to their feet, giving friendly smiles to the FBI agents, before hurrying from the precinct. “And this is Rafael Barba, Manhattan A.D.A.” Rafael shook hands with the FBI Agents, “This is Dr. Spencer Reid,” She referred to the gangly, young man, who refused his hand with a polite nod, “SSA Jareau,” The blonde woman who gave half a friendly smile, as she took his hand, “and SSA Hotchner, the unit chief of the BAU,” Rafael shook his hand as well, as his gaze was evaluative and formal, as was his handshake.

“A bit early to have a prosecutor already involved, isn’t it?” Dr. Reid spoke up, “I-I mean, usually they don’t get involved until after we arrest them,”

Rafael felt an inch of annoyance crawl up his skin. Great, another Carisi. “Yes, but in this case, it’s very different. The Manhattan D.A. and the governor wants me all over this.” The name drops seemed to catch their attention, or at leas their interest.  “The entire world has their eyes on Manhattan, and I can’t have evidence getting thrown out over jurisdictional issues,” Bringing the FBI in for this case was not Rafael’s ideal situation, but Olivia had no choice when the media and One PP got wind of the fact it might be a serial killer. And she did so without consulting him.

Their heads snapped up, as Dr. Reid opened his mouth yet again, but he was cut off. “Trust me, we don’t have any intentions of screwing this case up for you,” Agent Hotchner said, looking up from his file, before turning to Olivia.  “Do you have a place we can set up?” Olivia led them to a spare conference room, while Rafael stayed back, watching them as the fluttering only got worse, settling in his chest. He grabbed his coat with a sigh, as he headed from the precinct to 1 Hogan Place, and  he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had eluded him.

Or rather someone.

“You’re the David Rossi?” You turned at Sonny’s excited words, as he enthusiastically shook Rossi’s hand, who looked both flattered and bemused. “I’ve read every single one of your works,”

“Oh really, you have?” His partner caught your eye, giving a silent apology through her gaze, which you returned with a shake of your head. Rossi clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Son, why don’t we focus on the crime scene and then we can discuss autographs later?” Sonny’s face flushed, before he nodded, looking to the blood soaked bench that the victim was placed on. You knelt before it, as you examined the surrounding area. Several benches, such as this one, lined the sides of pathways that led up and down the park, and though scattered trees did grow around the park, not enough to block any view of this

“He certainly isn’t shy about sharing his work,” You sighed, getting to your feet, as you looked around, following Prentiss’s eyes.

Prentiss pointed to the parking lot, taking a few steps toward it.  “Full view from the parking lot, and around most of the perimeter,” She turned to Rollins and Carisi. “How’s the foot traffic here late at night?”

With a tilt of her head, Rollins replied: “Not many anymore, this park heavily patrolled by police officers since the first few murders,”

“Not to mention that the city has been put on high alert by both the police and the media,” Carisi added, as he gave a shrug, at a loss. “How did this bastard not get seen?”

“There’s only one way,” Morgan called from a few feet away, “Guys, I found something,” He emerged from the bushes, holding an official NYPD uniform. “He blended in,”

“Son of a-” Rollins muttered, pushing her hair back, as she wiped her mouth with her palm,“So what does this mean?”

“It means he’s one of us,” Carisi crossed his arms, fists clenched, every hint of his lightheartedness gone.

“Or someone who had access to a uniform,” Rossi added, rubbing his chin. “You can buy these, in police stores, or even on the internet. Over 200,000 were for sale only in the last year,” Everyone stopped to look at him, as he held up his hands. “Reid mentioned it to me once. Where the kid got the statistic, don’t ask me,”

“Well either way,” You took out your phone, choosing a familiar number, “we have our first lead. Hotch - we got something,”

Though the revelation of the uniform had allowed Lieutenant Benson to send out a warning to officers to check with others when seeing suspicious behavior, that served as little comfort for you. He had left that uniform there because he wanted the police to find it. Why else wouldn’t he burn it or throw it out elsewhere? It was a taunt. I’m everyone and no one. I could be the person standing right next to you.

“Y/N,” Your reverie was broken, as you turned to see Aaron standing behind you, his presence comforting, as you stood the closest to him that you did all day. The hour was late, but the rest of the team was still working out of the conference room, while most of the officers were catching some sleep in the bunks. His hand reached out and you leaned into his supposed touch, but only to find him reaching behind you. “You’re blocking the coffee,”

“Oh,” Your face flushed, as you stepped aside, and you realized you were still at work. And there was still a serial killer to catch.

“Have you made any headway for why he’s targeting these women?” He asked, pouring himself the cup of coffee he had disturbed your thoughts for.

“There isn’t a thing that connects them physically or personally,” You sighed, biting your lip at the thought. “None of them went to the same schools, worked near each other, or hell,  they didn’t even frequent the same coffee shops.” He quirked an eyebrow at your last remark, but his amusement faded when he noted your pursed lips and clenched fists.

“Come here for a second,” You followed him into a nearby room, shutting the door behind him. His arms went around your waist loosely, pulling you closer, as his gaze shifted around to make sure you were alone. “What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, gentle, something most didn’t see very much of, but you had learned to treasure each time he showed you.

“I just…” You shook your head, twisting your ring, as you struggled to find words to even explain this feeling you had. It was as if you had an almost complete puzzle sitting before you, but a piece had fallen out of the box. And no matter how hard you looked, it just...eluded you. “Something feels wrong, ever since we landed here. A feeling I’ve never gotten, even before we landed here. I don’t know if it’s the case, or something else-”

He pressed a light kiss to your forehead, sending warmth and shivers down your spine. “I think you need some rest,” He saw your mouth open in protest, “You’ve been up for 36 hours straight, you’re tired, you can’t think straight,”

“No, that’s just it, I am thinking straight, but I’m missing something, or someone,” His mouth was frowning, and in that moment you simply wanted to kiss it away. His arms tightened around your waist and he pulled you close to him, your head tucked in the nape of his neck. You shouldn’t be doing this right now, a nagging voice told you, as his lips pressed a kiss to the top of your head. This relationship had pulled you under, turning your entire world upside down, and now it seemed neither of you couldn’t find your way to sense. You pulled apart to see a small smile that graced his features, one that battered the voice in your head into submission. Your hand was warm against his cheek, as he placed his own over yours, turning his head to kiss it. He made you want to throw any ounce of logic out the window, he was worth risking anything for.

Even your job.

Even your life.

You met his gaze at that point, feeling his arms wrap tighter around your waist, as he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your lips just before-

RING, RING.

You both jumped apart, disentangling from each other, as your cheeks aflame and heart racing. Looking around, you made sure no one else seemed to see your rendezvous, and your relief faded to annoyance. However, annoyance faded to grimaces after reading the text Prentiss had sent. “Another body,” You frowned at the second part of the message, detailing the victim’s information. “Is this right?”

“Yes,” He pushed his hair back, his frown returning. “A male victim. He changed his victimology,” And now it was going to be even harder to catch him. “Go check out the crime scene,” He didn’t look up from his phone as he said this, his fingers working on texting Prentiss back. “Y/N?” You turned to see a stern expression, “And then go get some rest?”

“Yessir,” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, catching him by surprise, slipping out of the room and his frown replaced with a smile.

Murdering someone was not a particularly easy task to do, logistically or emotionally, and you couldn’t understand how this man was getting away with it in a crowded, public park. The body was still fresh, only dead less than eight hours, moved here postmortem. And despite the victim being a man, CSU confirmed there were signs of sexual abuse, murdered in the same way as the other women: throat and wrists slashed, left to bleed out. But this time the body was propped against a tree in Central Park, discovered by a police officer who happened to be patrolling nearby.  “Did you check and make sure this officer was legitimate?” You asked Fin, who was the first to arrive on scene, one of Lieutenant Benson’s detectives who had introduced himself when you, Reid, and Rossi had reached the scene.

“Yeah, his story checks out, so does his badge number and background check I had your friend run,” He replied, referring to Garcia. You felt a smile pull at your lips. You would have loved hear that conversation, but to your slight surprise, he said: “I wish we had one of her down here, would make our job a hell of a lot easier,”

“You have no idea how much we hear that,” Rossi replied, shaking his head.

Reid opened his mouth. “Actually-”

“Wait, his hand,” His fingers were pulled into a fist, but it didn’t seem natural. The pose was forced, artificial, as if something had forced his hand into that position. You looked to Fin, who nodded, allowing you to gingerly pull his fingers apart, and you found something sitting in the palm of his hand. Your blood ran cold, as you held the object between your fingers, your hands beginning to shake.

“Y/N?” Reid walked closer, concern evident in his voice, a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I know how he’s choosing his victims,” You said, your voice quiet, as you pointed to his finger, no line visible on his finger. “They were stringless.” You felt Reid’s hand tense on your shoulder, before you brushed it away, turning around to show them the ring you had found in his palm.

“But there is no line on their finger, everyone’s line disappears after they die, so how do you know?” Fin asked, crossing his arms, clearly skeptical.

“None of them had significant partners in the past, each of them never had any romantic partners presently, and this pinky ring is the perfect thing to hide the line around it,” You fingered the ring, feeling the smooth metal through your plastic gloves, the cold sending reverberating chills down your spine. “I’m guessing it was one of the female victims by its appearance, but we can check,” You handed the evidence off to crime scene who bagged it for forensics as you walked away from the crime scene.

“What’s with her?” You heard Fin ask Rossi, before he paused. “Is she-”

You didn’t hear Rossi or Reid reply, and that was answer enough.

“We have an update for you,” Rafael scrunched his nose at Liv’s words, his brow wrinkling in suspicion at her tone. Did she sound, concerned? He had just reached his apartment, armful of takeout, only to be greeted by a ringing in his pocket. He had cursed as he stumbled to the counter, placing the bags gingerly on the counter, before pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“What happened?”

“We found his next victim, victim number four, and this time is was a male,” Rafael frowned at the mention of a male victim, as he sat on his couch with a sigh, rubbing his eyes.

“Does this mean I have to tell the D.A. we’re back to square one?”

“No, one of the agents might have figured out his M.O.” He still wasn’t seeing the bad here, why was she being so vague?

“Then, what’s the problem?”

“Rafael,” The use of his first name caught his attention as he sat up from his position, his heart beginning to race. She sighed, as he heard her door shut, and the squeak of her couch as she presumably sat facing away from the curtains. “He’s targeting stringless,”

Rafael hadn’t meant for Liv to find out the way she did. During Alex’s trial after that October surprise had fallen into his lap. It was over drinks, and he wasn’t one to particular shy away from liquor, but that night he had allowed himself to have one drink too many. The confession had slipped from his lips before he knew what he was saying. It almost seemed as if he was watching himself tell her, a disembodied experience. He watched her eyes widen in response, shock coloring her features, before sadness and pity replaced them. Some small part of him had hoped Liv would understand, even partially, but of course, she had felt her soulmate before. But, she knew what it felt like; to feel anything, but emptiness.

She knew true love.

While it eluded him. Yet again.

He sat several moments in silence, before a question slipped from his lips.“Who was the agent that figured this out?”

���Agent Y/N L/N,” Liv answered, after consulting her list of names and pictures she had. Rafael’s heart did a somersault at the sound of her name. The sound of the name made him want to say it himself. Have it roll of his tongue, instead of her’s. But these thoughts occurred in the back of mind, nagging and petty thoughts that wouldn’t leave as the forefront concerned itself with the serial killer. “And she seems quite set on this theory,”

“I need to speak with her,” Rafael felt the blood roar in his ears, as he got to his feet, grabbing his only momentarily discarded coat. “now.”

And there was another thing, besides words, that never failed to elude Rafael Barba: bad luck.