#maybe thats how ishtar “kidnapped” juno??? i dunno

[violenthunted]

𝟻𝟷. sender calls out to the receiver from a distance, their voice echoing in the mist.

he had told her not to go. he had told her not to go & she hadn't listened. he should have known. face, meet reflection. once juno had an idea, there was no point in trying to displace it from that thick head of hers. it didn't matter what derek had told her. that it was most likely a trap from their unsub. that what the unsub wanted was juno & nothing else. (reid seemed to think that her unique motive was utter discord. pandemonium built from the ground-up. in truth, derek didn't really perceive the difference between complete disarray & juno's torment.)

it still hurt his jaw like year-old dental cavities; how long it had taken them to figure out that it had been her from the very start. the dollface killer. dhufeainnewedd. how she had been within their files from day one. even this week had been a complete failure on their part: how many days had it taken them to realize that she had them chasing phantoms ; all looking for different parts of a same puzzle. how the fuck had she figured out how to make them play her game, he still had trouble understanding. juno, he knew. everyone did: dollface had her teeth in her. they all have that one file they take home, the one they look at & contemplate & wish they had dealt with in a different way. dollface was juno's. in more ways than he was comfortable admitting.

but the others? why had none of them shared the clues, the taunts, the drawings, they had found or received? how had she managed to achieve that kind of disorder without alarming any of them? he supposed that the girl knew the team better than they knew her. god, it made him feel sick. she was a nightmare dressed as an eccentric cowgirl, and it didn't matter that she had reid's brains or garcia's culture, there was nothing about her that morgan could stand. and whenever juno talked about her, the same feeling of unease rose in his chest, all the way up to his throat, stale disgust on the tongue.

when he had told suarez to stand down, he had meant it. he might not have the brains, but he was still aware of what was happening: they were in her territory & like predator meeting prey, she'd have them down before they'd even get a chance to see her. so they had to get out. that's why he had shouted. but he knew, he knew she wouldn't listen. he knew she'd shoulder on, trying to prove something. and he had let her go. he had let her go because he had been too slow, too unfocused, still completely unaware that this game was made of rules he would only understand too late.

"morgan!" his name echoes through the mist, from wall to wall, but he can barely see in front of him. teary eyes desperately try to catch juno's silhouette but it's all in vain : she's gone, gone, and he's coughing his lungs out. "suarez!" his own call sounds more like a plea than an order. his hands are extended in front of him ; his gun hasn't even been taken out because there's no point. he can't see, he can barely breathe, and all the sounds he can hear are coming from him. a hurried heart, a brutal cough. and his own broken voice, again, again, again, calling for her. hoping she'll come back to him instead of facing the abyss, even though… he knows. he knows where she'll decide to go. five years from now, he knows which steps he would have taken, where he would have gone.

fuck, youth really makes you stupid. "@suarcz, get back! now!"