#penelope x sarah

[ellalovesundertale]

Seesaw fails feat. Sarah and Penelope

Three ways of how (NOT)

to ride the seesaw LOL

1. *Penelope’s legs are too long for that tiny seesaw

2. *Sarah accidentally launches Penelope off the seesaw

3. *Penelope launches Sarah off the seesaw trying to wake her up

[ask-the-skele-lesbian-sisters]

oooh! What kind of things do you guys do together?

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

Based on this p!link

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Your girl teasing your red, swollen, sensitive clit with her nipple as you writhe underneath her, the pleasure sends shivers down your body as you let out loud pitiful whimpers. She praises you for how good you’re taking her torment, she loves seeing you struggle against the orgasm building in your body.

[braveclementine]

The Clones

Warnings: 18+readersonly, blood kink, period sex, pet names, Captain kink, slight little, fingering, smut, fluff

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

Every Avenger had been in the common room except for Elizabeth, Penny, Clint, Sam, Loki, Trang, Violetta, Ghaida, and Natasha. All of the rest of them were lounging on the couches and the armchairs, curled up together. 

Some of them were talking to each other, others were watching the Jack Hannah show on the television. The babies were all asleep in the nursery that Tony had built for them and completed about a month ago. The baby monitors were set up on the coffee table, all of them turned on just in case. The nursery was only a room over anyways and with some of them having super hearing, everything was in great hands. 

Katya had given birth two days ago and was relaxing in T'Challa's arms, half asleep. Her little boy, who she had named Lan Jr. after his father, was the cutest little thing. Elijah half felt like he was looking at his dead best friend when he stared at him. But Elijah couldn't love him any less than that. 

Since he was so new, he was in the room with them, tucked protectively in Katya's arms. T'Challa was very quiet, smiling at their new son. Elijah had always loved the Avengers like a family and he had loved all of the kids like his own. But sometimes, even he was still surprised that all of the Avengers had really accepted the kids as their own as well. 

For him, it was just that all of the women giving birth were his friends first. But he was glad for what this chapter of life was bringing. 

He was reading the message from Violetta when he felt the strange tingle in his body. His normal body heat seemed to suddenly reduce and he looked up, but then stopped as he suddenly couldn't move a muscle. Only his eyes now as Elizabeth stepped into the room. 

Everyone was looking up and at the same spot, whether by design or just chance, Elijah wasn't sure. 

He knew immediately that it wasn't Elizabeth, even though it looked like her. The eyes were different, almost black instead of brown. Elijah wanted to say something, but his mouth wouldn't move either. 

"Well then, let's get started." Elizabeth purred. 

🏊‍♀️🤠 𝓉нᶤгｄ ｐ𝐎ש- Ŝн𝐈𝒇𝓉𝓘𝕟ق Ⓜ️🪝

Elizabeth knocked all of the baby monitors off the table, some of them breaking, others just rolling to their unmoving feet. Tony and Bucky felt a mounting panic inside of them that they couldn't respond to since they couldn't move. Steve felt frustrated. Rhodey was confused. Stephen felt strange. 

Elizabeth placed some sort of hologram on the table and it light up. It came to show several cameras, maybe about fifty or so. Most of them were of all of their bedrooms- which were all pretty much empty except for three. 

Clint was in one, lounging on the bed. He looked to be asleep. 

Loki was in another, sitting up against the headboard of his bed, reading a book and using his magic while he read. 

Penny was in another one, leaning forwards. She had a newspaper on her bed and was painting her toenails either pink or red, Elijah couldn't see the colour from here. 

Trang was in another one, simply sitting at a desk, working on some sort of project. 

Suddenly, the door opened to one of the empty bedrooms and another Elizabeth walked in. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, so Elijah knew that it wasn't her. Ever since Bucky had put her over the kitchen table, she had only worn dresses from that point forwards. 

The Elizabeth turned as though she was going to leave, but then paused and turned to the other door in the room, which was one that led to the bathroom. 

Elijah tried to take note of whose bedroom it was so that he knew who was in there. It definitely wasn't Elizabeth's, hers was empty on the cameras. Nor was it Tony or Thors. 

The door opened and Sam came out, jumping a little when he saw her. Then he grinned, "Hey sug-" 

His words were cut off and Bucky let out a choked sound as the Elizabeth shoved a knife between his ribs, smiling all the while. Sam staggered, falling to his knees, his face open wide in shock. He pushed backwards on his hands, gritting his teeth as the Elizabeth just stood there. 

"Clone 1400 target down." The Elizabeth in the room said in an earpiece and then pressed a button on the tablet she was holding. The clone of Elizabeth in the room suddenly seemed to melt like wax and Sam hollered, pushing back more. 

Sam managed to get to his feet long enough to grab his phone and collapse on the bed. Steve's phone started ringing in his pocket and Steve had tears streaming down his face as he wasn't able to answer. Bucky's phone started ringing next and when he too didn't pick up, Sam cursed, blood pouring through his fingers. 

Tony's phone was next and then Stephen's. Bruce's, who was green around the eyes but didn't seem able to Hulk out. 

Sam collapsed on his side and was still. 

The door in Clint's room opened next and Katya whimpered as another Elizabeth clone came into the room. Clint didn't even open his eyes, until she was climbing on the bed. Clint grinned, "Hey little bird." 

Elijah waited, but the Elizabeth clone didn't do anything, just staring at the floor. 

"Little bird?" Clint asked, sitting up and reaching out for her hand. Tears rolled down her face and she turned to him. 

"I'm not her." She whispered. Clint frowned. "I'm a clone and-" 

"Clone 1465 is defective." The Elizabeth in the room said stoically and pressed the button. 

Clint flew backwards, cracking his head on the wall in his haste to get away as the clone melted in a puddle. Clint's entire body was still as a live wire and then he leapt off the bed, racing out the door. 

Loki was next, but he didn't greet the Elizabeth, looking at her with penetrating eyes. "What are you?" He finally asked, getting off the bed, skirting around her. 

"That hurt." Elizabeth snarked and then lunged at him with a sword. Loki dodged out of the way in time, before creating his own sword out of green mist. The two of them fought ferociously. Elijah noted several times that Loki could have killed her, but didn't. 

Finally, Loki knocked her off her feet and put the sword to her throat. "You're not her, are you?" 

The Elizabeth clone tried to get up, but Loki wouldn't let her, "Answer me!" 

Elijah was surprised at Loki's reaction. 

"You know, you stall to much." The Elizabeth snapped as a second one came into the room. Loki didn't have enough time to turn and protect himself, but it didn't matter. The clone never made it, as an arrow pierced its' neck. 

Loki took a step backwards as Clint slid into the room, throwing a knife into the second ones' neck. 

"What did you do?" Loki snapped. 

"They're clones." Clint said. "C'mon. Kat isn't answering her phone and I'm worried." 

They were occasionally seen, throwing open every door to make sure. Clint found Sam, who hadn't moved in a long time. 

"Sammy?" Clint asked, climbing on the bed, trying to find a pulse. "LOKI IN HERE!" 

Loki ran into the room as well, immediately starting to heal Sam. "Get him water, NOW!" 

Clint ran to the bathroom, filling a cup and came back, trickling it down Sam's throat. 

Elijahs' attention now moved to the lab where Trang got up from the chair, putting a hand against her stomach. She bumped into the computer at the side, which turned on and Trang turned to look at it. Whatever was on it, interested her enough to grab her phone. Tony's phone started to ring again. 

Then Stephen's phone. Elijah started to feel his phone start vibrating in his hand. But his thumb wouldn't move to swipe it. 

"COME ON!" Trang shouted, calling another person. And then, "Elizabeth, the spy. I need you to-Elizabeth? Elizabeth?!" 

Trang looked at her phone and then snapped out, "F.R.I.D.A.Y. where is Elizabeth?" 

She turned and then a gunshot rang out and Trang stumbled, falling to the ground. 

Tony's panic shot through the roof and Tony saw Loki put a hand against his tattoo. Clint looked at him. Sam was coming around slowly. 

"Loki?" 

"Tony. . ." Loki murmured. "Stay with him." Loki raced from the room. 

Tony waited to see some sort of clone walk over to Trang, but it wasn't a clone. It was Riri, holding a gun in her hand. 

"Riri. . ." Trang choked out, pushing herself up into a sitting position. The bullet wasn't in her stomach- which Tony wanted to thank the Lord for, but it was right by her heart. 

Riri looked at the computer and started to wipe it clean. "You're such a nuisance Tien. Taking Tony from me. You know, that's the only reason I really did this. I don't care about Elizabeth, but Sharon and I have suffered enough." 

Steve wanted to flinch as he worked out the connotation enough. Sharon must be the spy. Because of him. Because of Elizabeth and Penny. 

Riri advanced on Trang, kneeling before her. 

"Riri please." Trang begged. "You don't need to do this. You think Tony is going to love you if he finds out you killed his child?" 

Riri hesitated and it was enough hesitation before she was suddenly stabbed through the back and thrown to the side. Loki became visible again, kneeling in front of Trang. He scooped her up in his arms, setting her down on the table, starting to work over her. 

"Loki." Trang whimpered. 

"I've got you." Loki said firmly. "You're okay Trang. I've got you." 

"Targets 4 and 17 are in the Lab." Elizabeth said into the com. "Send asset 1765 and 1486 after the group." 

Tony felt relief seep through every fiber of his being and Loki reacted to it pleasantly. He looked up at the cameras. 

"They can see us." Loki told Trang. 

"What?" Trang mumbled as Loki dislodged the bullet and then started to heal her. 

"There's clones of Elizabeth and the others aren't answering their phones. They must be stuck, but they can see us in the cameras." Loki explained. 

"How do you know?" Trang mumbled. 

"Because I can feel Tony's emotions through the bonds." Loki said. "When you got shot, his fear skyrocketed. And now that you're okay, I can feel his relief." 

"Can all soulmates do that? I never felt anything from Jay." Trang said and Loki slowly helped her sit up. 

"Sometimes. It depends on the strength of the bond. It works particularly well with me because of my magic. Tony, Stephen, and Penny are the strongest of course, actually being my soulmates. But I can also feel Bucky, Fandral, Elizabeth, and Wanda too if the emotions they feel are strong enough. You and Rhodey are slowly getting there as well."

Trang smiled a little and then the two of them froze as ten Elizabeth clones entered the room. Loki immediately guarded Trang, a determined, resigned look on his face. 

"Oh." Trang whispered. "Clones." 

Loki closed his eyes, letting knives float in midair and then covered Trang's eyes as he simply killed all of them rather swiftly. 

Loki breathed in deeply, shakily. "C'mon, we need to-" 

"Loki!" 

A clone of Tony and Stephen ran into the room, frantically. Loki immediately relaxed and went to go to them, when he nearly doubled over in pain, grabbing Tony's tattoo again. 

"Loki-" 

"Don't." Loki said, holding his sword out now towards them. His hand was shaking just a little. 

"Bubs." Stephen said sternly and Loki flinched. 

"Prove it." Loki hissed. "Prove it's you." 

Stephen hesitated and Loki gripped his sword harder. Stephen shook his head, "The hard way then." 

Loki fought both of them, but Elijah knew his heart wasn't in it. And it probably wasn't helping that Tony and Stephen were both panicking internally and Loki was reacting to it. 

Loki finally pinned Tony and Stephen advanced towards Trang, who had watched the entire thing with wide eyes. Now Stephen pulled out a wicked looking knife, backing her into a corner. Trang pressed a button on her glasses, the nano-tech forming blasters. 

"Really a shame, you are quite pretty." Stephen smirked. Loki spun around, throwing the sword so that it went straight through the clones heart. Then Loki let out a yell as the Tony clone pinned him next, stabbing him through the shoulder with his knife. 

Trang raised her hands and blasted the Tony clone. It flew off, hitting the wall, and was still. 

"Loki?" Trang asked softly. Loki was just laying there, taking in huge breaths. Trang pulled out the weapon, trying to help Loki, who was reacting quite poorly. "Loki it's okay, they weren't real. Just clones." 

"I know." Loki said, pushing himself to his feet. He looked pale. "It's just. . . a lot." 

"We need to find the others." Trang said, taking him by the hand. Both of them raised their hands as Violetta ran into the room. 

"Okay what did I do?" Vi shouted, raising her hands defensively. "Do I look like Sharon?" 

"What?" Loki snapped while Trang raced forwards and hugged her tightly. 

"Oh thank god." Trang sighed. "Where are the others?" 

"I don't know." Vi shook her head. "Fury, Nat, and I just got back from SHIELD headquarters. Nat and Fury went up. Fury's off to find Elizabeth. Nat's going to find the others and let them know what's going on." 

"A bit late for that." Loki snarled with fury. 

The door to the roof suddenly opened and Elijah flicked his eyes up to see Elizabeth with Rue in her arms. Sharon was with her, her hand behind her back, holding a gun. 

Elizabeth spun, confusion on her face, "Where's Steve?" 

Sharon pulled the gun out and pointed it at her. "Sorry. I lied." 

Steve gritted his teeth while guilt and self-hatred fell on his shoulders. He should've done something about this. Something about Sharon. Should've noticed how desperate she was to get him back, but he hadn't thought she would do this. 

"Don't even try to use your powers." Sharon said, sounding almost bored. "I used a dampener on you. So, put Rue down and put your hands on your-" 

Elizabeth did put Rue down, but then lunged at Sharon, the two of them grappling for the gun. Sharon twisted, pinning Elizabeth at first, but Elizabeth knocked her elbow into her jaw and Sharon's head jolted backwards. Sharon was flipped onto her own back and Elizabeth punched her across the face. Sharon reached up with both hands, yanking Elizabeth's hair back so that she nearly did a backward roll in pain. 

Sharon punched her in the stomach and then kneed her in the face. Elizabeth couldn't roll away from the pain, thrashing in Sharon's hold. Sharon kicked her in the side and Elizabeth sprawled out on the roof. She tried pushing herself up but Sharon slammed her foot into her back. 

"God, I've wanted to do this for so long." Sharon snarled, keeping her foot pressed firmly on Elizabeth's back. "Every time Steve even looked at you I wanted to kill you. You had every male Avenger wrapped around your finger and you couldn't let one of them go, could you? Like half of them even care. Must be nice to just be an object to be used for their sexual gratification. But Steve? He was mine with actual love and you took him from me." 

Elizabeth coughed and muttered, "Can't have loved you that much." 

"You know." Sharon snarled. "If it wasn't for the fact that your mother is paying so much to get you back, even if it is to turn you into a Winter Soldier, I would just kill you right here. Picturing Steve's face the entire time I did it." 

"How romantic." Elizabeth retorted. 

Elijah snorted and was surprised the sound came out. 

The door to Penny's room opened and Elijah wanted to call out as Penny looked up and saw another Elizabeth there. Penny looked surprised and tilted her head as Elizabeth came nearer, getting up on the bed. Elijah was stunned when the Elizabeth clone suddenly started to kiss Penny. The nail polish spilled on the bed as Penny reacted enthusiastically. 

The clone in the community room sighed. "Another defective one." 

Elijah glared as the button was pressed and that Elizabeth melted as well. Penny shrieked, falling backwards off the bed. The melt of whatever the clones were made of covered her hands and the front of her body. 

Elijah's eyes flickered back up through the cameras. Sam and Clint were both fine, starting to leave the bedroom. Loki, Vi, and Trang were no where to be seen. Penny had rushed into her bathroom. Elizabeth was still on her stomach, Sharon bending down and keeping her held down. Rue was crying on the box that Elizabeth had originally set her down on. 

Sharon stood up, approaching the baby. Bucky's stomach turned, not wanting the evil woman anywhere near his daughter. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out and Sharon yelled, grabbing her side as Elizabeth rolled away. 

Nick Fury kept his gun trained on Sharon as she laid on the roof. She sneered as Elizabeth backed away, strapping Rue into the baby carrier safely. 

"You know, I think I'm actually a little hurt." Nick replied sardonically. "Really trusted you Agent Carter. I wonder how Aunt Peggy would feel." 

"She'd understand." Sharon spat. "She would've done it too." 

Steve's stomach churned at the thought. He couldn't imagine Peggy doing something like this. She had just been happy that he was alive and she wanted the best for him. She wasn't anything like Sharon. 

"Right." Fury snarked. There was a cold fury inside of him, in his eyes. 

"Step away from the controls." Another voice said, inside of the room. Elijah would've jumped if he could've. 

Natasha stepped out, her gun pointed at the clones head. 

"I don't really care if you kill me." the clone smirked. "I'm due for meltdown in twenty minutes anyways. But in the meantime, I might as well take down as many of your lovers as possible. Let's start with the other red head." 

Elizabeths' clone immediately had a gun to Wandas' forehead. Wanda couldn't do anything nor could Vision or Pietro, who were on either side of her. Everyone was just frozen like statues. 

"Or, put the gun down Natalia." Elizabeth said, "And go sit on Elijah's lap. You're all free in twenty minutes anyways." 

Nat put the gun down on the table and made her way over, gingerly sitting on his lap. He could feel her, but he also couldn't in a way. Nat squeezed his frozen hand. 

The clone let the cameras disappear so that it was just the one on the roof. A helicopter flew into frame and both Nick and Elizabeth had to dive as bullets started raining down on the roof. Sharon rolled out of the way, her back pressed up against the generator. One of them had to hit Nick through the box, because blood started pooling around the side of the crate. 

Lucinda jumped down from the helicopter and Elizabeth stood her ground in front of her. 

Elizabeth was confused, concerned, and hurt. She was terrified for Rue and Nick. Nick hadn't emerged from the box and there was blood on the concrete. Viden was telling her that the woman in front of her was her mother. But she didn't remember her and she wasn't scared of her. 

"Time to go Elizabeth. Let's end this now." Lucinda said softly. "If you'd like, we can even grab Barnes and bring him with us. A happy super soldier family of three. You, Bucky, and your daughter." 

"Sorry, but that leaves out like twenty other people that I love." Elizabeth snapped. "And you're evil." 

"That's harsh." Lucinda hummed. "I'm no different from Bucky or Loki or any of your other murderous lovers." 

"Shut up." Elizabeth snarled. 

"I'm your mother, show me some respect." Lucindas' eyes finally flared. Elizabeth stood her ground. She knew she needed to get to Nick so that she could save his life. But her water powers had been dampened, so she could only fight with her hands. 

Lucinda's eyes flickered to where Rue was crying in her baby carrier. Elizabeth's protective instincts immediately kicked in, lunging and blocking Lucinda from getting to the carrier first. 

"Not even going to let me hold my granddaughter?" Lucinda asked, seeming hurt. Elizabeth was still uncertain if this woman was serious or not. And for once, Viden was staying quiet on her thoughts. 

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you love her." Elizabeth hissed. "And then you'd turn her into a Winter soldier the first chance you got." 

"It's a longer time to live." Lucinda sighed. "Wouldn't you want your daughter to have immortality? So you don't have to outlive her and watch her die? So that her father doesn't have to watch her die? All your lovers? Immortality is a gift, E." 

"I'm not immortal either." Elizabeth snapped. 

"Sure you are." Lucinda said. "You're half Asgardian." 

Thor felt shock run through him. He wondered who her mother or father was. He wished he could move, wished he could call on his lightning, but he was a frozen as the others, unable to move an inch. 

"What?" Elizabeth asked, now surprised. Sharon was pushing herself back up to her feet behind Lucinda, looking staggered. "What do you mean?" 

"Your father had a second soulmate that he met before me." Lucinda said. "They had a daughter- you." 

"How old am I?" Elizabeth demanded. "Whose my mother?" 

"I can answer all of those questions, just come with me." Lucinda said, holding her hand out like a peace offering. "I can tell you your whole past. I can give you your memories back. Just come with me." 

Elizabeth looked at Lucinda's hand and was tempted. She wasn't sure why she felt so tempted. How could this woman even give her her memories back if Wanda couldn't? This woman couldn't be more powerful than Wanda was. But still. . . there was a strange urge to take her hand. To agree. 

The door to the roof suddenly burst open and Loki tackled Sharon, who was about to pick up Rue. Sharon and him started to wrestle on the ground as she tried to get her gun in a place where she could shoot him. Nick still hadn't emerged. She needed to act now to save them. 

Penny came tearing into the common room, skidding to a stop at the sight in front of her. Clint felt a jolt of shock, seeing Elizabeth reach out and take her mothers hand. The clone Elizabeth in the room even seemed a little surprised. 

Penny watched as her father pushed himself up from behind the box, holding his stomach. At the same time, Elizabeth suddenly yanked her arms backwards and then pushed at her mother, sending her over the edge of the tower. 

And then, Elizabeth suddenly was stumbling backwards towards the edge. Loki turned, running for her at the same time she fell backwards into the air. Their fingers swiping each other as she fell into nothingness. Her mother had grabbed her hair and taken her with her. 

Buckys' entire soul felt like it had shattered into pieces. Loki was still laying where he was and Nick had knocked Sharon unconscious. He'd sank with his back to the boxes, his eyes rimmed red as he shed tears for Elizabeth. 

"And that's that." The Elizabeth clone said, turning off the computer. She walked over to the window. "Time for us all to die." 

She didn't make it far as suddenly, her body was encased in orange smoke. Her eyes started to turn whiter and whiter until they exploded like hot eggs. Smoke poured from her mouth until it formed a sphere in mid air. There were five different coloured sections of the orb and they shattered apart, the clone and everything turning into flakes and drifted to the floor. 

Ghaida was in the back of the room, floating in midair. Her eyes were a bright orange, but they turned back to the normal brown colour as she settled back on the ground. 

The. . . well whatever had been holding all of them down freed them. Thor was immediately on his feet, hugging Ghaida. The others moved at a much slower pace though, still completely shaken by what they had seen. 

And how they were going to deal with the loss. 

[beautifulbookishdisaster]

"You were to take her home." "The lady is rather... unbiddable." "Thank you. That might well be the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me."

Sarah McLean, A Rogue by Any Other Name

[ellalovesundertale]

Sorry if I haven’t reblogged here with these. So if I missed some, it’s because I don’t like to put in the effort of reblogging.

Anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!

@ellalovesundertale

We love lesbians in this household!

[lis-likes-fics]

Love Letters

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Word Count: 8.1k words Warnings: Murder, torture, depictions of mental illness, typical Criminal Minds content... A/N: Collabed with a couple friends about the serial killer. Guys, this was hard. Spent sooo much time building this character and then didn't even end up using all of the stuff we came up with. But it was fun and I enjoyed this and I hope you do too! Special thanks to the ones who helped me plan, @the-nerdy-goddess and @thecreature-bug and my beta reader @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen!

A knock on your classroom door has you turning your head, and you smile at the sight of the math teacher one door down.

You know why she's here, sneaking a “meeting” before all the kids get here for homeroom. You roll your eyes, scooting back in your rolling chair and crossing your arms.

“So how was the date Saturday?” Esther asks, raising a teasing brow as she walks further into the room, taking a seat right on the side of your desk. “You get lucky?”

You scoff. “I wish. The guy was boring. It was a total snooze fest.” You pick up a paper from your grading stack, marking another consecutive one hundred on little Amelia's test. “I told him I was a teacher and he told me how he had a crush on his teacher from the eighth grade.”

“Blergh,” she groans, making a face. “Was he a gentleman, at least?”

“I wish, part two. He didn't pull a chair, he didn't open a door.”

She shakes her head in disappointment and pats your back. “Your gentleman is coming to you soon. You deserve it.” She reaches over, picking up your necklace and running her thumb over the F before dropping it back down. “And I like that necklace.”

You laugh sarcastically at her, jutting your chin out toward the mirroring E around her own neck. All the fifth grade teachers wear one, a gift from Sarah’s—the science teacher’s—birthday party. “I like yours.”

She brushes the golden charm on her dark chest with a smile. She scoots off your desk. “Hey, if you're looking for another date, I might have a guy.” She winks at you, and you almost throw a pencil at her.

“Don't you have a class to teach?”

“Eventually,” she shrugs. “Small accident a few blocks away, traffic’s backed up. Buses are late–”

“–and most of your class rides the bus.” You nod, “Yeah.”

She walks to the door, patting the frame twice. “But I'll leave you be. I have copies to print.”

You shoo her away. “Goodbye.”

She winks at you again, clicking her tongue. “See you.”

~

The elevator doors close as David steps in next to Aaron. After a quick once-over, he smiles. “You look tired. Jack?”

Aaron shakes his head as he glances at his shoes, “No. Jack's fine.”

“Oh,” Dave raises his brows. “Did Aaron Hotchner have a date?”

He chuckles, amused by the assumption. “Me?”

He shrugs. “Good to have a little hope.”

Another rare chuckle passes his lips as he shakes his head again. His voice is low and soft with his amusement. “Yeah, I had a date. With a wrench and a kitchen sink.”

He hums, tilting his head from side to side as if weighing the options. “A date is a date. At least you can fix the sink.”

“Alright,” he mumbles lightheartedly.

Dave pushes the doors open as they enter the round table room, watching as the rest of the team slowly makes their way. When everyone is present and accounted for, he begins.

“What have we got, Garcia?”

Penelope sets her coffee cup down, making a face. “Oh, my little ducklings, nothing good.” The screen turns on and presents a round of crime scene photos, multiple women covered in uniform cuts all matching the other perfectly, besides the differences in the letters adorning their chests. It's graphic and strange.

Garcia avoids looking with everything she has. “Some hikers at the New River Gorge Bridge in West Virginia were going about their business when they found five perfectly marked graves lined up in a row.” The presses a button and said graves are shown before and after they were dug up. When Garcia says perfect, she means perfect. The graves are perfect rectangles, all the same size and depth and almost as though someone used a ruler to make sure the lines were straight.

“The bodies found were Madeline Johnsons, Beatrice Cabrera, Clara Warner, Dakota Platt,” one more press reveals a woman with dark skin now pale with death, “and our latest victim, Esther Cooke.”

The team flips through the files they were given, analyzing the information as it comes. “All were found covered in multiple incisions all over the body, and letters carved on their chests.” She makes a face. “I don't know how much you guys gate papercuts, but I know that if I got as many as our victims here, I'd be forever emotionally ruined.”

Reid's analytical eyes take in the sight of the bodies. “It's almost reminiscent of Lingchi, translated to ‘slow slicing’ or ‘death by a thousand cuts’. It was a form of torture and execution used in China around the 10th century until the early 20th century.” He talks a mile a minute, squinting his eyes at the photos as he does.

Prentiss shrugs, “Well, one papercut is bad enough, I could never do a thousand.”

JJ brings her drink to her lips. “I couldn't do ten.” They chuckle to each other.

Morgan juts his neck toward his files. “How did they die? The wounds are made for bloodletting.”

Garcia groans lightly. “So not glad you asked. Their throats were slashed, two incisions made at each side of the neck to cut the jugulars.” She adjusts her glasses, glancing at her tablet. “Autopsy reports say very slowly and with a very sharp knife. Like the unsub was trying very hard to keep steady. They also found traces of chemicals used in disinfectant in the wounds.”

Prentiss' brows knit together. “Why not just cut it clean across?”

“Well, look, there are 26 cuts in total on all the bodies, including the one at the neck,” Reid points out. “The incisions were very specific.”

“‘Course it was, look at that pattern,” Morgan says.

Each limb has a total of six equal cuts along the top of them, with the last two finishing off at the neck. It's too specific.

“All of the letters on their chests match the beginning of their names, except for Madeline. She has an A,” Garcia explains. “Madeline's family said she went by Addy.”

“Then the letters carved into them match the first letter of their names,” JJ says. “Maybe he's trying to go through the alphabet.”

“Matches the cuts,” Rossi shrugs. “There are 26 cuts, 26 letters of the alphabet.”

“Who died first and who was last?” Hotch asks, not looking up from his screen.

“They were killed and buried in alphabetical order, sir.”

A few members of the team nod, their theory supported. Reid clasps his hands. “Paired with the perfection of the graves, the specificity of the incisions, the disinfectant, we could be dealing with someone struggling with high level obsessive compulsive disorder.”

They agree.

“But how is he targeting his victims, other than by their names?” Prentiss wonders, “I mean, how does he figure out what their names are in the first place?”

Rossi sighs, “I guess that's what we have to find out.”

Hotch looks up at his team, his stern gaze glancing among them. “Based on the timeline of these kills, we hopefully have about a week before he strikes again. Let's not give him time. Wheels up in thirty.”

~

You look up at the gentle knock on your door interrupting your silent lunch break. You clear your throat, dropping your hand from your necklace as you lay eyes on Principal Luis.

“Hey,” she greets softly. “You doing okay?”

You nod, offering a half-hearted grin. You've had to smile at your kids all day today, despite the grief, and you were really depending on your break to wind down from it. “Considering.”

“You think you could talk? There are some FBI agents here with a few questions about Esther.”

You sniff, furrowing your brows. “FBI?” For you? You supposed that makes sense. You were close enough…

Two agents walk into the room, their professional blacks offset by the colorful parade that is your classroom. It looks strange, almost silly. You stand to greet them.

The woman offers a smile, a kind face to ease any worries you may have. The man is a little more stern, but there's a gentleness you admire hidden beneath.

“Hello, Ms. Hughes,” he greets. “I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner, this is Agent Jennifer Jareau. We're with the FBI.”

“You can call me JJ,” she says as she reaches a hand out toward you. You take it. “We're here with a few questions about Esther Cooke.”

You try not to look too miserable.

Agent Hotchner’s voice is soft as he speaks to you. “The principal said you and Ms. Cooke were close?”

You nod, crossing your arms. The classrooms are always cold. It's felt a little colder lately.

“She worked right next door,” you try not to stutter. “We were the closest in our department. I'm holding conferences tomorrow with parents about taking some of her kids into my homeroom until we find a…a replacement.”

Noticing your disquiet, JJ speaks up. “Was there anything going on in Ms. Cooke’s life? Anything out of the ordinary?”

Thinking, you shake your head. “Not really.” You shrug, “It was school, home, and not much else. The occasional night out with me, we are–” you clear your throat, “we were both single.”

Agent Hotchner adds in, “We're there any strange absences or even a trip she was going on?”

Again, you think. But nothing really comes up until– “She mentioned that she went on this tour thing with her parents last weekend, local. Some sort of…hiking thing? It's usually for tourists but they won free tickets.” Then you back track, “Is that the kind of thing you're looking for?”

JJ glances at Agent Hotchner. You're not sure what that means. “It could be.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” he asks.

You shrug. “Monday…before she went home. She didn't show up Tuesday or Wednesday, I figured she just got sick or something…forgot to tell me.” You rub your cheek with your sleeve. “I thought it was weird ‘cause she didn't call in or anything. I had to request a sub for her.”

Agent Hotchner nods. “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course. Anything.”

He dug in the inside pocket of his suit. “Call us if you have anything else. Here's my card.”

You reach out to take it, your fingers brushing. It was a comforting feeling. “Thank you.” The words are gentle as they leave you. You shake out of your slight daze, “Uh, here's mine if you have any other questions for me.”

You go behind your desk, grabbing a sticky note shaped like a koala and the first pen you see (which ends up being the brightest green marker you own)... The kids love the colors.

When Agent Hotchner takes it, he almost grins. You recognize the hidden amusement in some of the kids you teach. The ones that are harder to get to open up, even at this age. It's a little sad. Those kids happen to be some of the sweetest you know.

The sight of him in a sophisticated suit with all his professionalism, holding a cutesy koala sticky note is almost comical. He nods his thanks, and then turns to JJ.

They both begin to make their exit when you stop them. “Hey.” They turn. “Did anyone find her necklace?”

“Necklace?” JJ furrows her brow.

You nod. “All the fifth grade teachers have necklaces with our letters on them. Just like this.” You pick up the little charm around your neck for them to examine. “Except she had an E.” You let it drop, scratch the back of your neck as you hum. “Her parents said they never found it when they…”

The thought of saying “dug her up” out loud was haunting, and you already felt that shrinking feeling in your gut.

JJ redirects. “Would she normally take it off?”

You shake your head quickly. “Not Esther. She loves–” you sigh, annoyed now that you keep making the mistake of present tense. As an English teacher, it hurts more somehow. “She loved that necklace. We all do. We wear it nearly every day. Especially now.”

Agent Hotchner nods again, a really gentle movement that you honestly appreciate. “We'll keep an eye out,” he says. “Thank you for your time.”

You nod back at him, offering what smile you can. “Thanks.”

They leave and you check the time. You'd have to get your kids from lunch soon.

~

“Did she have anything?” Morgan wonders as Hotch and JJ return.

JJ’s teasing brows bounce. “Other than Hotch’s number? A bit.”

Rossi smirks, leaning across the table. “Did you find something special with our Ms. Hughes?” He puts emphasis on the title so Hotch is fully aware of her marital status.

“Let's focus, please.”

Hotch doesn't seem particularly annoyed, but there is a case at hand and he wants it solved as fast as possible.

Besides, it would be unprofessional to call her like this…asking her on a date after questioning her about her recently deceased.

The team giggles quietly amongst themselves. Children. But they do focus in as Morgan's phone rings as a signal to their resident oracle.

“Talk to me, babygirl.”

“I ran those credit card records like Hotch asked,” she starts. “All of which come up with very different results with no special link but one: three of the five all purchased hiking tickets for a guided trail a few days before they went missing. But they're very popular trails, tourists and families go all the time.”

“Hiking trail?”

“Is that significant?”

JJ looks around at the group. “Ms. Hughes said Esther Cooke’s parents won free tickets. They just went last weekend.”

“That would explain why it doesn't show up on the credit card records,” she says. The clack of her keyboard fills the space before she's speaking again. “Oh, yes, I see. The reservation is written in her mother's name.”

Reid looks up from the board where he worked on his geographical profile. “Clara loved out of state,” he says, “she was visiting. That could be how he found out about her.”

Rossi agrees. “So he's choosing most of his victims at the trail. Maybe he's a guide?”

JJ shrugs, “But how is he picking his victims?” She walks over to the pictures of all the victims hung up, their differences glaring as she shakes her head. “He's compulsive, he can't do it at random.”

“I don't think it is,” Hotch says. Eyes fall on him, urging clarification. “Ms. Hughes said something that stuck out to me. Esther Cooke always wore a necklace with the first letter of her name on it, but it was missing from the crime scene.”

The wheels turn in Reid’s head as he breaks away from his map. He picks up the crime scene photos, sorting through them to compare them to the headshots of the victims lining another board. “We might have something,” he mumbles. He picks up the first victim’s pictures. “Here, you can see Madeline wore a necklace with her nickname, Addy, on it. But at the burial site, it's missing.”

Prentiss catches on, picking another. A quick examination has her nodding along. “And look here. Clara had one, too. Hers is just a C.”

Rossi’s heavy brows furrow. “So you think he's targeting these women based on their necklaces?”

Reid words fly from his mouth as he speaks. “If he's killing them, burying them, and carving their letters all in alphabetical order, that could be his trigger—seeing the letters already in place and feeling the need to make it permanent, perfect.”

Morgan picks up Esther's picture, nodding. “We ready to give the profile?”

“I think so. Garcia,” her attention is lightning quick at the sound of her name, just like her wit, “get me a list of everyone who went on those trails and every guide who has led the ones our victims participated in.”

“That list is going to be longer than the Nile, but like Neith, I shall be victorious,” she declares.

Prentiss adds in. “Go ahead and narrow that down to white males who live in the area.”

“That helps.”

“Thank you, babygirl.”

“Happy to help, my salacious little snack.” She smacks the “ck”. He can hear the smirk in her voice. “I'll have that list in a jiffy.” Morgan chuckles as the call ends.

~

You plaster a grin on your face as you welcome in the next pair. It's been a long day already. The children have been a little fussy, others just sad, about the changes going on during class. The parents you've seen already have been awkward, annoyed, or (on the better occasion) nice, and you're ready to go home.

Just a few more meetings, then you can go home.

“Hello,” you greet. “Thank you for coming in.”

Ms. Tucker smiles gently, doing her best to be kind. She's one of the more patient parents. Her husband on the other hand… You've never been able to describe him as patient.

“Could we make this quick?” Mr. Tucker asks, checking his watch. He blinks harshly once, twice, three times, before looking back up at you. “I've got an appointment in an hour and…thirteen minutes.”

“Don't be rude, Larry,” his ex-wife insists, rolling her eyes as they take a seat in the chairs set in front of your desk. You sit as well, mentally bracing yourself for his meeting.

“Well, she's bringing us in here to tell us our kid isn't doing well in school. How do you want me to behave?” Another tight blink follows as he whispers under his breath, “Behave, behave.”

Ideally, these meetings should take no more than maybe five minutes. But parents make that difficult sometimes.

“Maybe if you spent more time with Peter, he wouldn't be having trouble,” she insists.

The animosity coming off the two of them is creating an environment that makes you want to kick them out of your room and do what you want. But you can't.

He scoffs. “Spend more ti–”

“Actually…”

They turn back to you then, remembering you're there as they close their mouths and listen. “We're not here to talk about his behavior. Peter has been wonderful in class.”

You grab Peter's file. It's just a stack of papers with Esther's old notes for him and his grades. You clear your throat quietly. “As you may know, the teacher next door to me just passed, and we are rearranging her classes until we can find a suitable replacement because we are short staffed.”

You hate saying “replacement”. These meetings have been hard enough simply because she's gone, but being the one of the people already working to replace her has been mentally taxing.

You pull your necklace from inside your shirt, sighing as you look up at them, toying with the charm.

You don't catch it. The movement is so slight and the whisper is so gentle that the moment goes completely over your head as Mr. Tucker's eyes lock on your charm. Under his breath falls a small, “F…F, F.”

“This conference was just to ask about whether or not it would be alright to transfer Peter into my class,” you continue, grasping the top pages out of the file. “Otherwise, his behavior has been fine. He's a smart boy with good grades. Ms. Cooke’s notes do say that he has a bit of trouble mixing with classes though, and he can be a little distracted. Another reason he would switch, he needs the extra social help.”

Ms. Tucker leans in slightly. “You said he has trouble mixing in?”

You nod, tilting your head as you remember Peter's behavior during your classes. “He's a little lonely.”

Mr. Tucker murmurs under his breath, holding onto the words. “Lonely.” His brows twitch. “Lonely…lonely.” You know they're tics, so you try not to make it obvious that you've caught it.

“He got along well with the teachers, but he's closed off to the other students. She saw that a couple of other kids picked on him, but they were little things that we were able to solve fairly quickly.” You sigh, thinking for a moment. You have to choose the right words, or this will end in an argument. “I would recommend trying to get him into things outside of school. A sport or a club, just something to get him to interact with more kids.”

Ms. Tucker is all ears as you speak, taking in what she can as she contemplates a solution. Her ex-husband seems a little out of focus, however. He watches you, his eyes taking you in, in a way that makes you uncomfortable.

“It also helps when the parents are on the same page,” you push through, ignoring the crawling in your skin and focusing on this child and his needs. “I realize you went through a divorce recently, which can be tough on your son. I know it's not my business to manage your relationship, but for the sake of your son, it's important not to be hostile in front of him. It could force him into thinking he has to choose a side, which can lead to negative effects on his mental health.”

She nods, soaking it in. “We can talk about it. You have our permission to take him in.”

“Yes.” Mr. Tucker nods. You watch his head dip three times. “Yes, yes.”

You sigh internally, glad the meeting is coming to a close. “Thank you,” you smile. “Did you have any questions for me?”

He replies, smiling as well. “No. Thank you.”

“Alright,” you close Peter's file, “then we should be good.”

“Thank you,” Ms. Tucker says. She reaches a hand out to shake your hand, and you take it. Her ex-husband does the same, though he lingers a little longer than you appreciate.

“Of course.”

They leave. You take a moment to breathe before you welcome in the next parents. And two meetings later, you've wrapped everything up. After clearing your desk, you snatch your things and head straight for the door.

You're happy to know it's not too late when you step out of the building. The sun is still up, but the moon is beginning to show with the coming evening. As you make your way to your car in the relatively lonely parking lot, it blinks when you unlock the doors.

You open the back door to throw your things inside, slamming it shut and opening the front in one movement.

You don't hear the footsteps behind you over the sound of your relief about the end of your day. So when something comes down hard at the back of your head, your pain and surprise is interrupted by the sudden darkness that overcomes you.

~

“You're on speaker.”

Garcia’s voice arises from Morgan's voice like the oracle she is. “Then I shall speak my prophecy for all to hear. I narrowed that list down significantly to the tour guides that lead the trails all of the victims went on—except the one who didn't. Speaking of, it turns out that our odd one out, Dakota Platt, put in an application to work as a guide but was denied. Anyway, I came up with three matches.”

Rossi hums. “Narrow the list to anyone recently going through a major change. A divorce, potential job loss, something like that.”

The sound of Garcia’s keyboard is heard over the phone, her voice coming a second later. “That takes one out. There's Perry Williams, he's just suffered a loss in the family—his mother died of lung cancer four months ago, around when the killings started. Then there's one other, Laurence Tucker, who just went through a divorce around a year ago. He's fighting a custody battle with his wife, started a couple weeks before the estimated time of the first murder.”

“Can you take a look at their medical histories?” Prentiss requests.

“Tucker has diagnosed OCD. He stopped taking his meds at the same time as the divorce.”

JJ is already on her feet as she slips her phone in her pocket. “That's our guy.” The rest of the team follow suit.

“I've just sent his home address to your phones.”

Hotch is packing his things as he speaks. “Garcia, go through his history. There may be something to suggest where he may be taking his victims to torture them. He can't be taking them home.”

Morgan raises the phone to his mouth. “Thanks, hot stuff.”

“Anything for you. Garcia out.”

~

“Clear.”

At the sound of the last check, Hotch lowers his gun as he sighs. “Hotch.” He looks over to see Reid peeking his head out of a room down the hall. He follows him, walking inside and following his gaze down to Reid’s hand, where he's holding a necklace he's pulled from a dark box on the dresser.

There are four necklaces neatly arranged within it, the fifth in Reid’s hand. An E for Esther.

His phone rings. “Yes, Garcia?”

She speaks quickly. “Our guy grew up in the area and attended a schoolhouse when he was little that was shut down years ago for unusual practices with the students. Reports found that the teachers there used to discipline ‘bad kids’—and by bad, I'm not talking just behavior, these are kids with diagnosed Autism, ADHD, OCD, the whole alphabet. Oh…maybe that wasn't the best word.”

“How were they disciplined?” Reid asks, pulling her back on track.

“Oh, right! The teachers used to slap hands with rulers and spank these children, sometimes with paddles. Sometimes kids would come home with big red letters drawn on their chests or clothes when they received failing grades as a way to shame them into passing.” She hums, “I'm guessing that's where the signature comes from.”

Reid sets the necklace down, “Is the building still up?”

“Like I said, it was shut down years ago. It was marked for demolition, but they never got around to it. The building still very much exists, and it's covered in wooden boards and caution tape.”

Hotch nods. “Send us the address. This could be where he's killing them.”

“Already done,” she says. “Also, fun fact. I learned that Tucker's son attends the school Esther Cooke taught at. Apparently, he was one of her students.”

A chill ran down Hotch’s spine as he thought about that. Scrambling in his jacket, he pulls out the koala sticky note in the inside pocket. “Garcia, I need you to give me another address.”

Reid’s brow furrows at his sudden haste. “What's wrong?”

“Ms. Hughes held conferences today for the parents of children Esther Cooke taught.”

Reid walks after him as Garcia retrieves the address. “So?”

“She wears an F.”

~

Your bleary eyes are so dazed and heavy. Mixed with the pain, it was hard to keep your head up and your eyes open. The letters lining the top of the walls, the alphabet which wraps around the room, fly around your head. It mixes with the chairs and desks, arranged so neatly around the room, lining the walls like the letters do. There's chalk and pencils and paper, all old and run down but set so neatly. The chaos and the tidiness is maddening.

It really hurts. Your arms and legs are covered in cuts, slow and methodical and painful. Your limbs shake with exhaustion, sweat sticks to your forehead and you feel heavy and sick. He'd removed your necklace. It's sitting on the desk where he keeps the rest of his supplies. You want it back.

His disorder is evident, and it bleeds over you with a glaring taunt. Every time he cuts you, he measures it with a ruler, and then you're thrown through the added torture of him disinfecting the wound each time. He counts it each time. He chants under his breath every time he cuts you, every time you talk, every time he blinks.

You just want to go home.

“Mr. Tucker, please,” you beg for the hundredth time, your plea falling on deaf ears.

He shakes his head, his ruler in the middle of your thigh. You want to move it. If he can't make a precise cut, he won't cut. But you don't have the strength. It's taking a lot to keep your head up.

“Hush,” he urges absentmindedly. “Hush, hush.” He adjusts the glasses on the bridge of his nose, careful not to use his hands.

“Why are you doing this?”

His attention is razor sharp as he measures. “I have to.”

It’s the most answer he's given you so far. Maybe if you just keep him talking, you'll be able to talk him out of it. You keep your voice gentle, trying not to sound as pained as you are. “Why?” you ask, though your voice wavers. “What did I do? What did Esther do?”

The name seems to spark something as he nods three times. “E, E, E.”

Your brow furrows. “Is this because of our necklaces?”

He shakes his head this time. Three times. “You won't understand.”

You sigh heavily. “Then help me understand.”

“You won't, you won't.” He picks up the knife, and you flinch away from him. “You won't.”

You keep trying. “You just have to talk to me,” you give him the best smile you can. “You can talk to me, Larry.” If you say his name, maybe you'll appeal to him. You can make it personal. You have to try something.

He mutters under his breath, as though he's thinking. “Talk, talk…talk.”

You nod, speaking slowly. “Yes. Just put the knife down, and we can talk.”

A scream tears through your throat as he drags the sharp blade across your thigh. It burns and it sears and tears stream down your cheeks at the feeling.

“19, 19, 19.”

You don't know what number he's going to, but you're scared for what he'll do when he finishes counting.

You struggle around the lump in your throat to speak, forcing out a breath to try and level yourself. “Is this about your OCD?” He glances up at you, but he doesn't give it too much thought. “I recognize it. Peter has early signs.”

“Peter,” he mumbles, finally taking pause to think. He hums and blinks.

“Yes, Peter,” you urge. “Your son. If you keep going, you could hurt him.” It's hard to see past your tears, but you keep going anyway. “When you get caught, and you will get caught, Peter will be taken away from you forever. He'd never forgive you.”

“Forgive me,” he huffs, shaking his head and rubbing his face. He grips his ruler in one hand. “Forgive me, forgive me.” He presses the ruler to the other leg, “Stop talking.”

You try to squirm, “Larry– Ah!” You purse your lips to stifle your shout, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your fists.

“20, 20, 20.”

A round of sobs rack through you. You can't hide the pain anymore. It's so evident, and it's so intense. You can't breathe. You hiss as the disinfectant stings.

“Please,” you cry. “Please, just tell me why.”

He shakes his head. He's upset now, you can see it in the crease of his brow, in the excessive head shakes, in the way he rubs his face so roughly. “They said I have to.”

“Who?”

“My teachers.” He looks around the room, and his eyes fall on the alphabet lining the walls.

You follow his gaze. The schoolhouse actually makes sense now. You thought he'd chosen it because it was abandoned…

“I can't do the alphabet. I have to do the alphabet, alphabet.” He says it like he's reciting something, like he's punishing himself.

Your breath is heavy, you blink rapidly, trying to see past your tear-filled eyes. “Your teachers made you do this?”

God, sometimes you hate teachers.

He rubs at his eyes, sighing heavily. “A, A, A,” he begins, speaking quickly and almost like he's struggling to speak. It reminds you of memorization methods. Sometimes you suggest it to students who have trouble remembering vocab—write it down over and over until you remember. Maybe that's why he's doing it? “B, B, B. C, C, C. D, D, D. E, E, E. F.”

He opens his eyes and points his knife at you. “F. F.”

The fear flares within you again. You try not to turn to a blubbering mess. You can't communicate with him if you can't speak properly. “Is that what you're doing?”

He moves to your arm. You try to pull at the duct tape he's got wrapped securely around your hands. You've been trapped here so long, your hands are numb, your wrists are bruising.

“Have to get to Z, Z, Z.”

You almost shout it when he presses the ruler to your arm. “Listen, listen, listen!” you say it in a rush, so, so scared. He actually stops. “Okay, they said to say it three times, right? You have to write it three times?”

The number triggers his tic. “Three, Three, three.” It's honestly becoming annoying. It's insistent and repetitive and it feels almost invasive. But you have to be patient or he'll just kill you faster.

“You don't have to do this.” Your face is itchy from the tears drying and re-wetting, but you can't scratch. “You're gonna be okay.”

He's not listening anymore. “Behave,” he warns, holding the knife to your face. “Behave.” He shakes his head. “Behave.”

He's stopped listening. Despite your screams, he measures and cuts and cleans and measures and cuts and cleans, repeating each number as he comes to it with calculated method.

You clench your fists as the knife digs into your thigh again. You're surprised you can get your broken cries out as you struggle to breathe.

He stands up, taking large steps back to look at his work. You suppose he's almost done, and that terrifies you.

You think about your students, the little kids in your classroom who have already lost one teacher and are now going to lose a second. All those good kids are going through so much already. They all loved Esther. You know they all loved you. You have a wall of art, holiday cards, and plenty of hugged legs to show for it.

You don't want to lose them. You don't want them to lose you.

In a last ditch effort to dissuade him from his pursuits, you shake your head and sigh heavily. “Please.”

He comes closer to you, squinting his eyes to try to ease you. “Shh, shh, shh,” he says. “Just close your eyes. It'll be over soon, soon, soon.”

He presses the ruler to your neck, and you don't have the strength to fight it. It inspires more tears as you shake your head weakly. “Please, please, please.” You chant it, closing your eyes shut. You brace for the end…

Both of you jump when the loudest crash resonates within the room. Wood splinters and heavy boots stomp against the floor. Startled, he staggers back. You open your eyes, lights flashing as the room crowds with armoured people.

“Laurence Tucker, drop the knife.”

You know that voice. You recognize it. It's hard to see past the lights and the tears in your eyes. You know him.

“Can't! Can't. Can't, I have to finish. I have to finish. I have to finish.”

He's panicking. Too many things happening at once, everything out of order, everything out of control. He grips the knife tighter, looking between you and the cops in the room.

Someone else, their voice louder and less patient, shouts. “Drop the knife now!”

“Behave, behave. Behave!”

Someone else's voice, softer and somehow understanding, speaks. Though the voices are beginning to blur. “We know what your teachers did to you,” he bids. “We know how they hurt you.”

They hurt him.

He shakes his alphabet, losing it over the chaos. His frustration is palpable. Every time they speak, he gets more and more angry. “Can't do the alphabet. I have to do the alphabet. I'm supposed to do the alphabet!”

“Larry,” you speak, your voice hoarse from overuse. You catch your breath, keeping your voice level. Like you're talking to one of your students. He's scared, he's angry. He needs patience. “Larry, look at me.”

You can practically feel the concern of the agents rolling off of them. They don't want you misspeaking and making him more upset than he already is.

But he looks at you, and he seems to respond to the softness because his furrowed brows shift very slightly, his anger turns to some semblance of fear.

Although it hurts, you try to smile. It's taking so much to lift your head, even more to get the words out without the heaviness of your rising fear and exhaustion.

“They were bad teachers.” He rubs his face, but you press on, speaking slowly. “They weren't supposed to hurt you. Teachers are supposed to help. They were wrong.”

He closes his eyes. “They were wrong,” he whispers, like he's trying to convince himself. “They were wrong, wrong.”

The desperation seeps in. “Let me help you,” you whisper. “Let them help you.”

“Help me,” he mutters, his voice as quiet as yours. “Help me, help me.”

The first voice, the one you know, he speaks again, patient but still an order. “Drop the knife, and we can help you.”

“Help me,” he whispers. Slowly, he moves as he contemplates the words. “Help me.” They raise their guns in alarm, but he keeps crouching until he's finally kneeling on the floor. He grips the knife. “Help me.”

“Just breathe, Larry,” you huff. The spark of adrenaline you'd gotten from your rescue is wearing off again. You feel like you might pass out. “It'll be okay,” you mutter. “It's going to be okay, it'll be okay.”

He stares at the floor, thinking. “Okay…okay,” he drops the knife, and it clatters to the floor. “Okay.”

They make quick work of cuffing him, forcing his hands behind his back as the metal clinks against itself.

An agent immediately rushes to you, and you immediately recognize him, just as you had his voice. Agent Hotchner kneels before you, carefully removing the duct tape around your wrists and ankles. “Are you alright?” His voice is so soft and gentle. You lean into it as your eyelids become heavier and heavier.

“I think I'm gonna pass out.”

Your voice is scratchy when you speak. He looks you over, and his hand comes to press against your cheek. It's oddly intimate, though you know it's for comfort. You lean into the warmth. It's helping.

“No, you won't,” he says as he removes the tape wrapped around your middle. “I've got you.” He glances behind him, throwing his demand over his shoulder. “Get me a medic.”

He turns back to you. “Can you stand?”

You want to say yes, but you genuinely don't think so. You shake your head, “I don't know.”

“Do you want me to help you stand?”

You nod, the movement choppy. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he says. He wraps his arm under yours, lifting you slowly, carefully, like you're fragile and precious. “Can you tell me your name?”

Your words are sticky and slow. You genuinely think you're going to pass out. “You know my name.”

“Yes, I do.” He nods, and when you glance up at him, he's giving you the gentlest smile, and you feel like everything is going to be okay. “Can you make sure I have it right?”

You hum. “Fawn Hughes.”

You're so discombobulated that you don't even give him your birth name, instead the one granted to you since you were little.

“Fawn,” he mutters. “Is that your nickname?”

You nod, slowly, and hum.

“It's nice.”

The both of you make your way as he helps you hobble out of the schoolhouse and into the evening air, past golden hour where pinks and purples coat the sky. It goes a little faster when the medic finally arrives. They help you onto a stretcher, and Agent Hotchner apologizes every time you whine at the pain.

When you're settled, he gives you a gentle nod. You grab his hand before he can turn to leave, hoping he doesn't notice the way you wince and knowing he does. “Thank you,” you mutter.

He sighs gently. “Don't thank me.”

“Thank you,” you say again, a little more insistent this time. You swallow thickly, the falling adrenaline increasing the solemnity as your exhaustion begins to crash down on you in waves. You're surprised when you feel a tear slip down the side of your face, disappearing into your hairline. You'd cried so much already, you weren't aware you still could. “He was going to kill me. If you hadn't come through, I'd be dead. So thank you.”

He looks down at you, nodding gently, the movement almost imperceptible. “You're welcome.” He glances at the medic, and then toward the ambulance waiting for you. “They'll take care of you.”

You didn't want to ask, but the need is too strong. You're so scared, and he's the only one here you truly trust. Besides the fact that he'd come to your rescue, you don't necessarily know why.

“Can you please stay?”

He thinks for a moment. Really, he should be here helping the rest of the team. But as he looks over, locking eyes with Rossi talking with Prentiss, he looks between the two of you and sends him a nod.

Agent Hotchner turns back to you and nods. “Yes.”

You want to thank him again, but you know he'll just tell you not to. As they load you into the ambulance, he holds your hand, and you lay back and answer the medics questions.

~

“Mom, I'm fine.”

You sigh, as your mother's worried voice rises from the other end of your phone. “You were kidnapped and tor—Shit!—tortured by a deranged serial killer. I have a right to be worried.”

“Well, you don't have to be. I'm okay. See?” You show her the bandages wrapped around your arms. “Patched up and healthy. Doctors say I should be out of here tomorrow morning.”

“We'll be there by then.”

“You don't have to come down.”

“Hush. We're coming down, and you can't stop us. I love you, and we'll see you in the morning.”

She hangs up before you can respond. You shake your head and sigh, setting your phone down. At least you know she was worried about you.

You glance up when you hear a knock at your door. “Come in.”

The door opens as Hotch steps inside. His face is gentle, though without a smile. You miss it in a way as you offer your own.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice just as soft.

You take in a breath. “Okay,” you say. “Considering.” You motion to your phone on the bedside table. “Got off the phone with my mom, she's…already on her way from out of state.”

He closes the door gently behind him, sitting on the chair beside your bed. “She's worried about you.”

You nod. “Yeah, I know.” You sigh, glancing over at him. His eyes are on you. Your lip twitches, fighting a bigger smile. You clear your throat. “Doctor said I'll scar, but…the knife was so sharp and steady enough that they should scar fine… They're discharging me in the morning.”

“That's good.”

“Yeah.”

Honestly, the quiet is nice. You look at him, at the features of his face, the softness mixed with his professionalism looks good on him.

“We retrieved this from the schoolhouse,” he says, reaching into the inside pocket of his suit. He hands you a necklace, your necklace. You smile gently, reaching out for it as he places it in your palm.

You're going to have trouble wearing it for a while, but it's nice to have it back. You look up at him thankfully.

“We also found this at Tucker's house.”

He hands you a second necklace. It's identical to your own, except this one has an E…for Esther.

You swallow the rising lump in your throat. Your smile aches as you breathe through the tears threatening to well in your eyes. You look up at him, your smile trembling as you hold back tears you've already shed. “Thank you.” He nods, smiling very briefly. “I'll, uh…I'll get it back to her family.”

“I'm glad I could help.”

Another comfortable silence falls over you. You tilt your head as you look up at him, wrapping the necklace around your fingers as you think. Something's on his mind.

“What is it?” you mutter.

He contemplates for a moment before he speaks. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“How did you manage to talk him down so well? You seemed so…calm.”

You look down at Esther's necklace, thinking for a moment as you shrug. You speak slowly, clearing your throat as you rub the thumb of your free hand along the white bandage on your forearm.

“He told me his teachers made him do it.” You close your eyes and take a steadying breath, the events of the night before too fresh to ignore. “That agent…said his teachers hurt him, so I treated it like an abusive parent situation. He just needed someone to be on his side.”

You hate that it had to be you, but at least you understand why he did what he did. You almost hate that you understand. “He was hurt as a kid. That kid needs to know he's not alone.”

Hotch thinks about that, nodding gently. “You're a wonderful teacher.”

His words are genuine. It warms you and puts you back at ease. “Thanks.” You smile at him, his little one reflecting back at you. “I guess I'll just have to figure out what to do with myself until they let me go back to my kids.”

A tiny chuckle escapes him. It's a good sound for him. “I think the children will be fine.” You chuckle as well, the sound of his laugh a contagious thing that you can't help.

He glances over his shoulder, out of the open blinds of your room to see Rossi standing in the hall. Hotch’s smile simmers down as they make eye contact. He nods, standing to his feet with a sigh.

“I have to go,” he says, almost regretfully. “Get well soon.”

You turn your palm up as it rests in your lap, wanting to reach for him but not wanting to seem desperate. “Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me, Ms. Hughes.”

After a moment, Hotch turns toward the door, placing his hand on the handle. “Agent Hotchner?” you call timidly, your heart thumping in your chest and your palms clammy. He pauses on his way to the door, turning back to you with a gentle look.

You clear your throat, dipping your head and trying not to seem as nervous as you feel. You almost died. If that didn't tell you how short life is, you don't know what will. Asking wouldn't hurt.

“I know you're probably busy and all, but…” you lick your bottom lip, summoning the courage to look him in the eyes as you smile nervously. “Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?” You think for a moment, “I'll stop thanking you so much if you do.”

Since meeting this man, the smile he gives you is the largest you've seen on him. It summons your own beaming grin as he looks at you with cheeks you swear are tinted pink. He chuckles gently, taking a couple slow steps to you as he nods. “I would love to.” All the weight of your worries lift from your shoulders with a sigh. “Please, call me Aaron.”

Your cheeks warm at his gentle affection. You have to clear your throat to speak. “Okay, Aaron,” you say. “But only if you call me Fawn.”

Another tiny chuckle comes out of him. “Where did Fawn come from?”

It’s a genuine question, an innocent curiosity you're happy to sate. “I used to be obsessed with deer as a kid. The nickname stuck,” you say with a shrug. “Some people think it's stupid, though. You can call me by my–”

His interruption isn't rude. In fact, you have to fight the urge to hide your face away as he says next, “I'm looking forward to that dinner, Fawn.”

You smile. “I'll hold you to that.”

Aaron gives you one last smile, saying a soft goodbye as he leaves the room to join Rossi, who gives him the biggest smirk he's ever witnessed.

As David opens his mouth to say something, Aaron stops him immediately with a raised hand and an annoyed grin on his face. “Don't.”

David raises his hands in defense, walking silently next to Aaron to join the team.

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300

[cowgurrrl]

i love oftm fam so much 🥹 i would love literally any updates on them :)

OFTM GANG RISE UP 🗣️🗣️🗣️

How Could I Not Love You?

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: this isn’t my favorite but I miss them desperately

Summary: “You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” [2.5k]

Warnings: newborn stuff, angst, the Garcia-Long family coming in clutch, god they are so in love it hurts, smutty dialogue toward the end but no smut because I chickened out

You don't know that you've ever been this tired. The girls have been in the world for a whopping two and a half months, and you feel like you've been awake for the entirety of those two months. None of the Miller kids are particularly good sleepers— even Sarah didn't sleep through the night until she was two and a half, which Joel conveniently forgot to tell you when you talked about having kids— but with the addition of the girls, it feels much harder. They wake up at different times throughout the night to feed, get changed, or be held, which complicates the rotation. Also, Sam's sleep schedule has regressed, and he's up at random times. Having three under five is not all it's cracked up to be.

You love Joel, and you love watching him be a dad, but your relationship has suffered through the just-barely-surviving stage of having newborns. You try to make time to watch a movie or just talk, but whenever you do, someone starts crying. Even if you're able to sit down for more than five minutes without a kid needing something, you're half-asleep and in no shape for a conversation. 

It didn't hit you how much of a toll it's taken on you until you were up for one of the late-night feeds with Violet, and he lay there, watching you through the darkness. You turned to look at him and reached out with your free hand to smooth down some stray hair. He smiled sleepily and turned to kiss your wrist before whispering, "I miss you." You wanted to say that he doesn't need to miss you, and you're right there, but you weren't. Not really.

"I miss you, too," you whispered back, feeling the sting of the truth on the back of your tongue. You wanted to say more—to remind him how much you love him and tell him how you couldn't do this without him—but Sophia's tinny cry closed the window of opportunity before it could fully open. 

You love your kids. You couldn't imagine anything better than watching them grow and interact with each other. They are so wanted and loved, but it still feels really fucking hard. You're sitting on the couch, feeding a baby while Joel bounces another and plays Army men with Sam, feeling like a horrible wife and mother, when the lock turns on your front door and your second family enters.

Carolina, Ryan, Elizabeth, Victoria, and Penelope descend upon your living room like well-meaning vultures, and you give them a confused look. Penelope immediately runs to Sam, and they embrace in their awkward toddler way before they scurry off to his room to play. Victoria, now nine and looking more like Carolina every day, gushes over Daisy. Elizabeth, in her teenage grace, plops down next to you on the couch and squeezes you, trying not to disturb Sophia too much.

"What are you doing here?" You ask Carolina, looking at her like she's a saint, and she smiles. 

"I heard you could use a break," she says. You're about to argue with her and insist that you've got everything under control, but she stops you. "We have two and a half adults, play buddies for Sam and Daisy, and nothing to do for the rest of the day. Plus, I've been itching to hold a baby." She explains. You turn to look back at Joel, who is now babyless and standing next to a baby-equipped Ryan, and give him a look.

"Did you do this?" You ask.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world if we went to dinner alone?" Just the idea of an actual dinner is enough to make you waver. You've both been living off of takeout and Sam's leftovers since the girls were born, and you're dying for a change of scenery. There's more than enough frozen breastmilk in the fridge for the girls, and they're at ease with their aunt and uncle. Sam is ecstatic to have someone to play with, and Daisy looks excited to get some attention. Surely, a few hours couldn't hurt. 

"Fine, but you can't make me wear pants." 

"Wouldn't dream of it," Joel says. Once Sophia is done feeding, you hand her off to Carolina and show Elizabeth where everything is. They don't need a rundown of everything a newborn needs, but it makes you feel better to ramble about their routine to make sure it all gets done. 

With all the kids placated, you and Joel sneak off to your room to change out of the clothes you've been wearing for God knows how long. You put on a maxi dress and spray dry shampoo in your hair while Joel buttons up a nice shirt. 

"Thank you," you say as you put on earrings, glancing at him in the mirror. “You didn't have to do this." He gives you a confused look but shakes it off with a quick kiss to your cheek.

"I wanted to. You deserve a break."

"We deserve a break," you correct, and he hums as he wraps an arm around your waist. Even though he hasn't been dealing with postpartum and breastfeeding problems, he's still been in the trenches with you. For a quiet minute, you stand together and take a breath for the first time in months. Yeah, you desperately needed this. 

You quickly finish getting ready before your plans can get thwarted and are shooed out of the house by Carolina and Ryan. They promise to text you updates and have everyone in bed on time, but don't pressure you to come home early. "We've got this," Carolina says with enough conviction that you can believe her. Still, your anxiety spikes once you're down the driveway, and you have to convince yourself that everything is okay. Joel grabbing your hand and asking you a question pleasantly distracts you. 

The autumn sun slowly sets over the California hills and casts a golden glow over Joel's face, catching the grays in his hair and beard beautifully. He's fifty now and older than he ever thought he'd be. He told you as much on the night of his birthday, along with his fears of being an older dad and husband. "I just don't wanna miss anythin'," he said. You reminded him that he was only fifty and he's in exceptional health for someone who spent most of his thirties and forties making music and bouncing around the world on tours. Plus, aging looks good on him. 

You talk about little things like how he's scribbled lyrics onto a notepad he keeps beside the bed or how Daisy has adjusted to having three little kids around instead of one. You're in the middle of saying something when he makes a familiar turn, and you can't stop the laugh from leaving you as the restaurant comes into view. 

"Are you serious?" You ask, looking at him with a big smile, and he shrugs.

"What?" He asks, as if he's not stopping in front of the restaurant where you had your first (contractually obligated) date. 

"Joel, we haven't been here in…" you trail off as you do the mental math before gasping. It's ten years to the day of your first date. Guilt immediately pools at the base of your spine, but Joel just sits there with a smirk on his face. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't even realize. I've been so caught up with Sammy and the girls and-" he leans over the center console and kisses you before you can continue rambling. 

Normally, you make it a point to remember days like this. Your first date, breaking up, getting back together, getting engaged, getting married, all of it. That's why it's so shocking that you forgot about it, and on a milestone year, no less. 

"I'm so sorry." You say, and he shakes his head. 

"I didn't say anything, so it could be a surprise," he says. "I called Caro and Ryan about a month ago to set this up, and I rented out the whole restaurant, so it's just us. We don't have to worry about cameras or fans or anythin'." 

Of fucking course, he would do something like this. You sigh and drop your head to his shoulder. 

"I didn't even get you anything." You mumble guiltily. He chuckles and kisses your temple.

"You just had two of my kids. I think that's more than enough." He says. You could spiral about feeling like a bad partner (how could you forget when your life together started?), but you have plenty of time for that. For dinner, however, you're on the clock. So, you push the thoughts away for now and stare at your husband fondly.

"I love you so much it's stupid," you say, and he smiles.

"Right back atcha, baby." He says. Much like he did on your first date, he gets out first and gives the car keys to the valet before opening your door for you. You take his arm and walk into the restaurant with him. There's no need for a hostess since there's only one table set up in the space, and it's impossible to miss it. Beautiful flowers surround the table, already set with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of red roses like the ones he turned up at your door with. He pulls your chair out for you and steals a kiss before moving to the other side of the table. Light, romantic music plays over the speakers, and the candle flickers in the middle of the table. It's perfect. 

The bottle of wine is from the year you were married, and it has a special label bearing both your names. You haven't had any wine for almost a year, and Joel, knowing this, evidently pulled out all the stops. He pours each of you a glass and raises it in a toast. "Thanks for going on a second date with me," he says, and you laugh. 

"Thanks for giving me a reason to." You say and clink your glass against his. The wine is amazing, and it's not just because you haven't had any in so long. You spend some time catching up with each other and talking about nothing important until a very nice waiter comes by to take your orders. Besides the waiter coming and going, you're left alone with Joel, with nobody crying or asking you for anything. It's nice, if not a little strange. 

You take your time eating and drinking and giving Joel your full attention. You laugh together and get butterflies when he kisses your hand or brushes his knee against yours. It's a little silly to get so worked up over such small gestures, but it's been a hot second since you've had adult time, so you figure it's fair. God forbid you still find your husband attractive. 

In the middle of dessert, a special request of Texas Trash Pie— which doesn't come close to his mother's but is still delicious— you look up from the dish and find whipped cream in his beard. You snort a laugh at the sight, and Joel furrows his brows.

"What?" He chuckles. You gather your napkin in your hands and reach out to wipe his face, not unlike you do with your son, and he blushes a little when he realizes what was making you laugh. "Can't believe you still like a mess like me." He says before taking another bite and somehow getting more on his face. Once you're full and pleasantly tipsy from the wine, you scoot your chair closer to Joel, and his hand finds a home on your thigh. 

You can't stop staring at him. You track the changes you've watched unfold over the past decade: a little more grey on his temples, the creases next to his eyes a little more prominent, and his hair a little longer. He still has that indescribable sparkle in his eye that you think can only be a product of his joy. Your heart squeezes when it only intensifies as he looks at you. 

"We've been together a long time," you say, and he hums. "Ten years, five kids, one dog, three finished albums, and one in the works."

"And four movies, an Academy Award, and how many others?" Joel chimes in, never the one to just accept praise, and you roll your eyes playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," you say, making him smile. You grab his left hand and trace his gold wedding band back and forth and back and forth a few times before you look at him again. "I mean, considering everything, we've done pretty well for ourselves. Can you handle ten more years with me?"

"I'd take a hundred more years with you." He says so quickly it takes your breath away. "I'd do it all over again if it meant this would be our life." 

"Even though we have to change shitty diapers and get no sleep?" You ask, the question betraying the sudden tears, and he laughs.

"There are worse things." Like thinking you'll never see each other again. Like running out of time. Like never seeing him in our children's faces. Yeah, there are much worse things. You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand. 

"I love you." You whisper like you told him you missed him not even a week ago. 

"I love you, too." He whispers back as he kisses you sweetly. The waiter lets you linger for another half an hour before dropping the check and very politely tells you they'll be closing soon. Joel leaves a big tip as an apology for staying so late and personally thanks all the staff who worked to make this possible. He's all Southern charm and manners, even as you leave the restaurant and wait for the car. 

"Thank you for tonight." You say, and Joel gives you a look. 

"Y'know, we don't have to go back just yet. The kids are all in bed. Carolina and Ryan said to enjoy each other." He says, and you squint at him, a smirk pulling on your lips.

"And what would we do with all that extra time?" 

"I might've reserved a room in a hotel nearby, just in case. We can order breakfast to the room early and be home before the kids wake up." 

"Do Caro and Ryan know about this?" You ask, but you already know the answer. You scoff a little and shake your head before stepping close to him. "You must've been really desperate to fuck your wife to plan all this, huh?" Your lips brush against the shell of his ear, and you swear, you feel him shudder. 

"Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna take such good care of you."  

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethksplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01 @acupofhollie

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Mosley Lane: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: This is the last piece of the puzzle. The piece before you can finally be set free from all this pain. You're going to do whatever it takes to help your friend and more importantly, yourself.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

The rest of the team comes back and you inform them of what you and Spencer talked about with Ashley. Not much is known about Roger other than he worked as an electrician for his entire adult life. He eventually married Anita Wled, the daughter of a family who owns a funeral home. Penelope works her magic on the couple and comes up with some very interesting information.

"Apparently, Anita can't have children. Repeated miscarriages. Eventually, Anita got too old to bear children," she says after pulling up her medical charts.

"The first abduction that closely resembles what's going on here was a decade ago in a different city. Children have gone missing every few years in different parts of the state. I guess they got too many and hired Ashley to help take care of their children. Look how well that ended for her," you sigh.

"We're running out of time. Twenty-four hours have almost passed."

"Look, we all think that Aimee could be alive. That's why there are hundreds of volunteers and officers combing every inch of the county."

"They're dragging the rivers and digging up the woods. That's not gonna help us if Aimee is still with the unsub, if she's still alive out there," Emily sighs.

"What about Charlie? Is he still alive?"

"Sarah believes it," JJ says.

"She's been saying that for eight years, JJ," Derek says. "Have you thought about why you suddenly believe her? Do you think it might be because you're a mother?"

"Excuse me?" you ask, suddenly upset at Derek's comment. "Did you really just ask her that? It doesn't matter if she's a mother or not. We all want to believe a mother when she says her missing son might be alive. The ruse used on Charlie is the same one that happened with Aimee."

"All I'm saying is, if we go from a single abduction to multiple abductions over ten years, that changes everything. We all have to be convinced that's what it is based on an unbiased profile."

"My evidence isn't enough to convince you? You've seen the sketches. You've seen what Roger and Anita look like. You know what Ashley went through. Is that not enough?"

"Okay," Emily says, trying to calm the fire between you and Derek. "What's the ruse? A distraction of a lost child and eight-year-old victims are taken from public places with little to no security. That's not just the same ruse. That's a signature, and I'm not a mother."

"Charlie would be sixteen now. We all know that preferential offenders typically dispose of their victims before they reach puberty."

"Unless his purpose is to help Roger snatch the kids," you say. "He's been with them since he was eight. He's completely submissive to them. He'll do anything they say, including helping them kidnap other kids. It would be why Charlie's body was never found. Penelope, we need more information on the kids that were taken. Ashley's lawyer is going need more evidence for her retrial."

Before Penelope can do anything, Hotch speaks to you.

"Are you doing this because you want your friend out of jail?"

"No," you sigh. "I'm doing this because there is an innocent woman doing the time for a crime she didn't commit. These kids are going missing because of this horrid couple, and it needs to stop."

"Fine. Coordinate with Reid and Garcia." He looks at Penelope. "Go back ten years nationwide. Start with abductions in target-rich environments. Rule out any with bodily recovery, dead or alive."

"I'm going to let Sarah know," JJ says and leaves the room.

"The rest of us need to check out Aimee's abduction site with new eyes."

There is a small possibility that Roger and Anita aren't the ones doing this, which is why Hotch is looking at this through an unbiased lens. You know they are the ones responsible, so you have to gather the evidence before you can do anything else. Ashley deserves someone to fight for her.

Since the year 2000, over two hundred children's bodies have not been found nationwide. In the state of Virginia, there are twelve. Charlie has been on the list for eight years, and Aimee just joined it. Aimee was taken from Ashburn and Charlie was taken from Leesburg, eight years apart. Both of them were taken a half mile from the highway. Karla Hartaway was abducted in 1999 when she was eight from Garrison. Stephen Shepherd was also eight when he was abducted in 2003 from Arlington. Danny Kenman was abducted at four in the afternoon from the mall. His parents are divorced, and he's still missing. Tracey Cain vanished from a park with both her parents present. Jake Wusman was abducted while he and his family were on a picnic.

You got in contact with the families you know are affected by Roger and Anita. Before their children were abducted, they confirmed that Roger would come into their houses to fix some electrical problems. Anita once supplied a family with a casket from her father's business. It's how they knew what children to target.

You're sitting inside the briefing room after just getting done talking to one of the victims' families. You're twirling a pen in your hand when Hotch walks into the room.

"Did you find anything?"

"Everyone I talked to had a run-in with Roger and Anita prior to their kid being taken. Roger did some electrical work in their houses, and Anita sold a family a casket for a loved one who passed. Days later or even weeks, their child went missing and Roger and Anita left town. That's not a coincidence."

"I agree."

JJ walks into the room with a woman who looks like she's seen better days.

"Hotch, this is Sarah Hillridge."

"Oh, we met when Charlie was taken. I mean, you know, you saw a lot of us. I'm sure we all look the same."

"Thank you for coming in. Have a seat."

"Sarah, may I ask you something?" She nods. "Do you know who Roger and Anita Roycewood are? Maybe they did some work for you? You know, electrically?"

"I think I might have known a Roger. I had some electrical work done before Charlie was taken. I remember because we had to stay with a family friend while the work was being done."

You look at Hotch and raise your eyebrows. Your suspects are looking more like the people who are doing this now. They might have taken Aimee, and they might have taken Charlie eight years ago.

"Alright, these represent kids taken from public places." JJ has a map pulled up with pins on it. "Locations are never hit more than once, but there are similarities in each--different malls, toy stores, carnivals, theme parks, and parades. They are places where families should feel safe, and where there isn't much security. That's twelve children over ten years old. We should interview all the families."

"I know a few of them. We had a support group. I mean, most of them have moved on," Sarah says.

"You're here, though."

"I saw Charlie three years ago."

"You didn't tell me that," JJ says quietly.

"My husband didn't believe me. Why would you?"

"Tell us what happened."

"At first, I saw him all the time. I thought I did and from what I understand, that's normal, but you can't survive that way. So Jake and I promised that we would move on. A few years later, I saw him. I mean, it was different. In my mind, he had never aged, but this was a teenage Charlie crossing the street. As quick as he was there he was gone again, but I know I saw him. Jake didn't believe me. That was the day he left me."

"What did you do when you saw Charlie?"

"I called for him."

"How did you know it was him?"

"I didn't, not for sure, so I called for him again. He looked back."

"Your husband didn't see him?"

"It was crowded. He disappeared. I lost him all over again," she sighs sadly.

"We'll be asking those parents to sign up for all that pain again. If they've moved on..."

"They'd take the chance if it meant their kids were alive," Sarah interrupts JJ.

JJ calls in the victims' families and has the entire team talking to them to relive their worst days to get a feel of what happened to them back then. You're in the briefing room on the phone with Abel in hopes you have enough for a retrial.

"I talked to the families of the kids who disappeared. Roger and Anita had contact with them days or weeks prior to their child being taken. We know Ashley babysat for them, and she described the kids who match the description of those who disappeared. Is this enough for a retrial? I'm working on getting more evidence but this is all I have right now."

"Send it over to me. It might be enough to convince a judge for a retrial. I'll be in touch."

"Thank you so much. I really appreciate this."

"No, thank you. I hated seeing Ashely go to jail. She's a good person."

"I know she is," you smile.

You hang up feeling really good about this. You believe wholeheartedly that she will get released this week if not next week. On your way to Penelope's desk, you see families talking with your team, most of them crying as they retell the stories of the worst day of their lives. You knock on Pen's door and walk inside.

"Hey, can you tell me where Roger and Anita live?"

"Unfortunately, that trial ended when your friend was arrested. They dropped their house and sold most of their things. If they are here, then they're using cash."

"Okay, if they have young children, they have to have a house, it has to be local, and it has to be big enough to look appealing. It also might have enough room inside or underneath it to keep the children in. So maybe a farm or something? Also, look for places that are secluded."

"I'll keep looking."

"Thank you."

Once everyone has left, you rejoin the team and Sarah in the briefing room.

"Eleven families have confirmed the same woman, forty to fifty years old, calling for children. In some cases, she even had a child with her," JJ says.

"Can I have a copy of those witness accounts?" you ask.

"Sure."

"She actually used the kids for the abductions? Were they her own or the ones kidnapped?" Sarah asks.

"We don't believe she's a mother. Most predisposed female offenders are not, but they are the most violent."

"You said that she's working with someone?"

"Yes. Roger, her husband. She chooses the victim while they do the riskiest part. They grab the child and manage the getaway."

"We don't know for sure if it's Roger and Anita," Hotch says. "I know what you're saying, Y/N. I believe you one hundred percent, you know this. You also know that we need more proof before we can definitively put this on someone."

"I know," you nod. "I'll keep working on my angle."

"Good. Don't give up."

"This is what Charlie looks like as a teenager," JJ says, putting a computer-generated photo on the screen.

"Um, he's tall and thin. His hair is darker than it was, but that's him. That's Charlie. Why would they take the risk of letting him out in the world?"

"They've had him in their control for eight years. He's either got Stockholm or he's being threatened."

Sarah looks like she is going to break down crying so JJ immediately steps in.

"Why don't we take a break, okay? Come on."

"Okay. Thank you," she sighs and allows JJ to take her away.

"Listen, I had Penelope look into Roger and Anita's address just in case it is them. They sold their house and most of their things once Ashley got arrested. I told her to look at places that are big and spacious, maybe a farm. It might be isolated, especially if Anita is violent."

"I'll narrow down the places they might be on the map," Spencer says.

"I agree with Y/N in that it might be isolated. I mean, there's no way to explain a houseful of kids at the neighborhood block party."

"Managing this many children isn't easy, and there have to be incidents where things didn't go as planned. We should start with domestic calls and disturbances. Concentrate on families who were visited by social services."

"I'll get Garcia," Spencer says and leaves the room.

"It's likely these unsubs were questioned before. Once we narrow down Garcia's list, we should revisit them."

Penelope returns with one hundred and seven places where Roger and Anita could be.

"Okay, I have one hundred and seven families visited by social services in the last ten years."

"That's too many to go door to door. We're gonna have to narrow that down. We need to figure out why they're staying in Northern Virginia."

"Their work could be the key. They could have a child-care facility on the premises as a cover."

"You know, it's most likely a single-income family. Someone has to be home to stay with the kids," Spencer says.

"They've been questioned before, so we can expect a rehearsed response."

"Okay, all of this helps." Penelope narrows down the list. "I have twenty-three families now."

Derek looks uneasy and Rossi picks up on this.

"What is it?"

"We're gonna be knocking on the doors of twenty-three families, and all of them have done something bad to a child. We don't have a warrant. Just our profile. If we get it wrong and leave that house, they'll destroy any evidence they have, including the children."

"That's why you have me," you say. "I'll know immediately if there are children hiding. Even if it's not Roger and Anita, I'll know."

"Just for added precaution, JJ, get an article of Aimee's clothing."

"What for?" Penelope asks.

"It's for the dogs."

x

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[emberfrostlovesloki]

Ultracrepidarian [Spencer x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@virginmary2008) Center (@reidobsessed) Right (@quillnote)

Prompt: When the BAU-reader nearly faints while giving a lecture to the NAT trainees, Spencer finally can’t hold back how he really feels about her as he drives her home. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: hurt/angst/comfort

Word Count: 15K

Content Warnings: Light drinking, canon typical violence (unsub kills via acid [description of bodies after death] mention of bodies being cut into), the threat of violence [reader and Spencer]  and physical assault [reader and a random woman], drugging [reader], ERs, broken bones, language, and prolonged pain. If I missed any, please let me know. 

A/N: Good evening, loves! It’s the first fic of January and it’s with the cutest, Spencer! I’ve had this idea since I learned the word ultracrepidarian, and I could totally see him saying it to someone. This is a slow burn until the very end. I tried my best to build up the suspense and tension between the reader and Reid, and I hope you enjoy the payout at the end. As always, thank you to my lovely readers who interact with my work. I hope the new year is treating you well. If you do enjoy this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Have a great rest of your week! Love Levi - ❤️

List wil all stories 

_y/n_ = your name 

_c/t_ = coffee or tea 

_y/l/n_ = your last name 

_y/c/y_’s = your color eyes 

__y/f/f/f_ = your favorite fast food 

_y/f/f/g/m_ = your favorite feel good movie 

_y/l/p_ = your local pharmacy 

“Ultracrepidarian,” Spencer said aloud while looking over the draft of the lecture _y/n_ was due to give tomorrow to the fresh batch of N.A.T. trainees. Agent _y/l/n_ looked up and said, “My lecture is what now?” _y/n_ had never heard the word before in her life. She wasn’t sure she could even say it right if it was written on paper. Spencer looked up from his notes and repeated, “Ultracrepidarian. What I’m trying to say is that you’re trying to sound smart, but I don’t think it’s helping your point.” _y/n_ sighed and said, “I am trying to sound smart. That’s the point. Why would two hundred new agents just coming back from their holiday break want to listen to me talk about how to do their case exercises? Derek was supposed to be the one giving this lecture anyway. Why’d he ask me and not Hotch or you? I’m so new to this I feel like I was just in those trainings myself.” Hotch, who had overheard the conversation as he was passing up to his office offered, “Morgan asked you because he saw you as the best fit for the job. If he’d wanted me or Spencer, he would have asked, but he asked you for a reason, _y/n_. You’ll do a fine job.” Aaron’s words of affirmation sent a moment of comfort _y/n_’s way, but the copious annotations Reid was making on her draft had her stomach tighten again. Three days prior, during one of the long, boring paperwork-filled days in the office, Morgan had gotten a call at his desk. He’d looked at the phone with a serious expression before picking up and walking outside of the bullpen just as he left, _y/n_ had heard him say, “What is it, Sarah?” A half-hour later, he’d come back in the room looking even more serious than before. The strong agent moved to the stairs and took them three at a time before stopping at Hotch’s door. The man knocked once and then entered the glowing office. There had been another half-hour conversation before Morgan appeared again. This time he moved and found Spencer and Emily. They chatted in hushed whispers for a few seconds before getting the important stuff on his desk and then heading out the door and toward the elevator. _y/n_ watched all of this with veiled interest. She knew that there was an unstated rule about profiling each other, and she was so new to the team that she didn’t want to make assumptions about what was going on. 

_y/n_ didn’t have to wait long as she caught Emily speaking with Penelope in the breakroom as they were grabbing their lunches from the fridge. _y/n_ overheard a snippet of the conversation, “Yeah, it sounded serious this time. Especially if he has to fly up there. I hope it turns out okay.” _y/n_, who was preparing some _c/t_ was about to ask if she could join the conversation, but was cut off by JJ, who popped her head in the room, and said, “Hotch just called us to the conference room. New case.” Just after JJ finished speaking, the timer on the microwave dinged. Emily let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Why is there always a new case when my food is finished? Can’t these unsubs wait a half hour?” That had everyone in the room chuckle, and as Garcia and Prentiss moved their food back into the fridge, the trio of agents moved up the stairs, the liaison stated, “Given how gross this case is, Emily, I think you’ll thank Aaron for not giving you the time to eat before you see the photos.” That had everyone sober as they moved into the conference room. The team sat while Aaron and JJ set up. Hotch spoke first, and he addressed that someone important was missing. The leader of the BAU cleared his throat and said, “As most of you know, Derek won’t be joining us for this case. He had something personal come up in Chicago, and I’m not sure when he’ll be coming back. However, I have confidence that we can work as efficiently as we always do, even if a member isn’t here.” Everyone nodded. Each of them knew that things happened. They had with Gideon at the end of last year. That had been a difficult transition for all of them. But with Rossi returning to the BAU, things had settled. There was more of a reassurance with Morgan. He was coming back. With Gideon, it had been like waiting for the other show to drop. And when it had, it wasn’t pretty. Aaron began jumping into the specifics of the case, with JJ adding details about the four victims so far. The college-age men and women who had been killed were unrecognizable. The use of hydrochloric acid via syringe into the carotid artery was a terrible, terrible way to die. The tissue and skin had been eaten away by the acid, exposing gaping holes in the bodies of the deceased. There also seemed to be signs of assault on the bodies that proceeded the killings. Lastly, The slogan for Yale, which all of the victims attended, was carved into their backs and read “Lux et Veritas.” If one thing was for sure, this was a crime of passion, and whoever or whatever was getting in the way of the killer ended up looking less human and more like an over-the-top dummy from a James Wan horror film. Unsettled, JJ gave the rest of the brief and told them they could find more in their files. After a few minutes of silent reading, Hotch said, as he always did, “Wheels up in thirty. We don’t know what’s causing the unsub to strike, but they’re organized, so the quicker we get to Connecticut, the sooner we can ensure it doesn’t happen again. 

On the plane, Spencer drank his supersaturated sugar-filled coffee next to _y/n_. He kept bouncing his knee up and down in a way that _y/n_ understood to be excitement. Of course, no one on the team would voice that thought, but bizarre cases brought a set of challenges that others didn’t. They forced the team to think on their feet and move on instinct. _y/n_ looked over the Spence, realizing he was bottling up energy that he usually didn't at the start of cases. _y/n_ then understood that it was the absence of Derek that had caused the change. Normally Spence and his best friend would be bantering and tossing ideas between them. Morgan would tease Reid for the size and scope of this knowledge. _y/n_ missed the animated talking, so she initiated it herself, asking, “So, why hydrochloric acid? Is that stuff easy to get your hands on? And why all Yale students? There has got to be a connection between them, right?” This offering had Spencer off to the races, with his first comment being, “Buying that kind of acid isn’t as hard as you think. And, if you're a chemistry student or in the hard sciences, you might work with it weekly. As for the student connection, it’s possible, but there might be lots of other factors that we don’t know yet. Maybe they were in the same cohort during orientation, or maybe the unsub picked them at random. The threads tying this all together seem disparate. I hope once we’re on campus and I’ve seen a crime scene, I’ll have a better idea.” _y/n_ nodded along. Just hearing Spencer hypothesize felt special. Spencer was the closest to _y/n_ in age, and they’d bonded over that early on. _y/n_ respected everyone else on the team a great deal, but with Reid, she felt like she could relax. She wouldn’t be judged for being young or relatively naivete in this job. She always looked to him for advice. They’d slowly gotten to know each other because they spent the most time together on cases and in the bullpen. Derek had even started teasing Reid about when he was going to ask _y/n_ out. Overhearing that conversation had _y/n_ turn back the way she came in an instant. That didn’t stop Morgan from seeing how flustered _y/n_ was or how flushed Spencer's face had become. As _y/n_ reflected on that moment, she noticed with a small smile, that Reid’s leg had stopped moving. Now that he was in the thick of conversation, with his mouth struggling to keep up with his train of thought, he didn’t need to let out his anxious energy in such a physical way. _y/n_ smiled at the fact, and she leaned in a little closer to try and catch all that her teammate was saying. 

When the jet landed, Hotch made quick introductions to the campus police and then split the BAU into separate groups. Aaron wanted Reid with him as he was the most familiar with the Ivy League system, and he thought it might be helpful while speaking to the President of the university. Meanwhile, _y/n_ and Rossi would check out the first two dorms where the bodies of Charles Talbot and Shauna Mann had been found by roommates who were now in shock. JJ and Emily were going to speak with the UPD for a while longer to see if they could get some useful information out of them before JJ would work on a response for the students, faculty, and staff, and Prentiss went and surveyed the campus. It was near midterms, and although four students were dead and memorials were being held, most of the students didn’t seem to care. They were so absorbed in their studies and tests that the murders seemed to flow off their backs like water on a duck. 

That evening, after an unproductive day, in Spencer’s room, he and _y/n_ looked over the new evidence. _y/n asked him, “Hey, is it that cutthroat in a school like this that the students aren’t worried about what’s happened? Certainly, they must value their lives more than some test?” Reid looked up from his notepad and sighed. He didn’t want to sound annoying, but he knew that _y/n_ listened to him with an understanding that he didn’t get from everyone. His brain and inability to seem to form strong connections often had him feeling left out. Not on the team, or even in his daily life, but he remembered how it had felt to be so isolated and different. In his high school years, he’d cured his brain for its ability, but he also knew it was the only way out of his life. It was half-blessing, half-curse. _y/n_ tipped her head slightly. She could sense him thinking, and it was rare for Spencer to not voice his thoughts. It was so natural for him. However, there was a pause, before Reid said, “I couldn’t tell you _y/n_. College was so easy for me that it just felt like a breeze. But for normal people? I don’t. I don’t know.” _y/n_ felt a tug at this choice of words. “Normal people.” Not that it was condemning them. It was condemning himself as an unnatural person. Agent _y/l/n_ had heard Spencer do this a few times when he was stressed or out of his comfort zone. He’d ostracize himself. Sometimes it took the form of a joke, and other times, it was self-deprecating humor, like when he’d said, “Well, I can recite The Decameron in the original Latin, but I haven’t been on a date in a year, so I guess I’m the lucky one in this situation.” _y/n_ knew that Reid did it to himself as a self-comforting gesture, but some people, even in the office, had almost openly ridiculed his intelligence. It made _y/n_ so angry. Bullying was for high schoolers, not adults. And if the people who had made Reid feel othered only understood what a help he was on cases and to her as a friend, she knew they’d shut the fuck up real quick. _y/n_ looked down at the gory picture in her hand. Softly she said, “We’re all human, Spencer. Even this unsub is human. We just have different abilities, different things we’ve been through.” _y/n_ didn’t want to look up at him. She wasn’t sure it was what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t what Reid had expected, and without even thinking about it, he replied, “At least you’re a human with friends.” 

This had _y/n_ look up with surprise. She hadn’t expected what she thought to be words of comfort to end his him saying something like that. _y/n_ took in Spencer’s expression. Even he seemed shocked or ashamed at letting that inside thought out. Gently, _y/n_ placed a hand on his crossed knee and said, with as much sincerity as she could muster, “You have friends, Spencer. You have me, Derek, and Garcia. You have the whole team. And what about your chess club? You don’t have to be adrift out there if you don’t want to be.” It was the best she could think of on the spot. As she said it, Spencer seemed to relax. He knew he got in his head. That he kept things in that he shouldn’t, but hearing _y/n_ validate him had him give her a small smile. She was so reassuring to him. Often, he wasn’t sure why. People didn’t generally choose to be in his life, but _y/n_ had gone beyond being just a colleague, and now and then, he felt the tug of what was adjacent to affection and love when he was around her. Spencer hadn’t felt that in a long time, and he shied away from it whenever it bubbled uncomfortably close to the surface. Spencer felt it now in his chest and stomach. He kept it inside like so much else in his life. Instead of addressing his feelings, he said, “I appreciate you reminding me of that _y/n_. You’re a good friend to me.” _y/n_ beamed at him and said, “You got it, Spence. I’ll remind you anytime you need.” Seeing _y/n_’s smile had Reid flushed, and he pulled a victim’s picture in front of him to distract himself. He couldn’t let his feelings get the best of him. Especially not on a case. Thankfully, his strategy worked, and he regained his composure. _y/n_ and he spent most of the night trying and testing theories and possibilities on the other. Even though nothing massive had happened, there seemed to be a shift in the air, pulling them closer together, in unknowable ways. When _y/n_ got back to her motel room, she got a call from Derek. The one where he asked her to speak from him, and _y/n_ said yes because it was a privilege that she didn’t fully understand. Morgan encouraged her and said that she could call him if she needed help. With that, Morgan hung up the phone, leaving _y/n_ excited about the possibility yet nervous at the prospect of speaking to so many people. 

The next day, a new body was found in Harkness Hall. The building was cleared of students, and the team spent the morning looking over the place from top to bottom. None of the students seemed to see anything odd, which could mean that the unsub had to live in the building and come in so late that everyone was asleep on that floor. This time, however, the killer had made an error. They had left traces behind, like hair and some dark flecks of navy paint that looked pretty distinct. It became clear to the team that the unsub was losing control of their anger as this victim, Bobby Ashten, hadn’t been injected with the acid but doused in it instead. There were also traces of formaldehyde in the mix. Why the added substance, no one could say yet. The sight and smell were so bad that the coroner and the police had to step out a few times to stop themselves from vomiting and contaminating the crime scene. It took a long time for the evidence to be bagged and tagged. Halfway through the process, a member of the UPD informed Aaron that the victim’s girlfriend, who was in hysterics, was outside demanding to come in. Hotch sent _y/n_ and JJ to try and calm the girl down and get a statement if it felt appropriate. If not, then get her to a counselor and get her contact information for later. JJ and _y/n_ took a deep breath once they were outside. They stripped their faces of the N-95 masks and latex gloves. They both felt relief from being outside of that room and building. The sun swept over the two agents, as they walked toward the young woman who was still crying. Kitty looked up at the approaching agents. Kitty’s face was streaked with tears. JJ moved forward first and said, “Hey, Ms. Kincade. My name’s Jennifer Jareau. I’m with the FBI. Agent _y/n_ and I are here to see how you’re doing. I’m afraid we can’t let you in to see your boyfriend, but we want to let you know that we’re here for you and that we’re doing everything we can to catch the guy who did this to Bobby.” Kitty sniffled, and her sadness seemed to turn to rage as she said, “It’s not a guy. It’s that crazy ex-girlfriend of Bob’s - Jenni. I told him to stop hanging out with her. She was like five years older than him, and it was gross. I fucking told him, but did he listen to me? No. He never listens to me. I kept inviting her to hangouts and parties and everything, and then, Jen ingratiated herself into his life so much that I couldn’t get her out. I know I shouldn’t have slept with Bobby when he was still dating her, but he was miserable. I thought I was doing him a favor. Look what good it did me. He’s fucking dead now.” Kitty burst into tears again, and JJ moved forward to embrace her. 

As the media liaison hugged the grieving girl, JJ could feel _y/n_ thinking a  mile a minute behind her. J knew that _y/n_ was as quick-witted as Spencer, just not as talkative. After a moment, _y/n_ asked gently, “Did you talk to Bobby every day? Did Jenni talk or text to him?” Kincade nodded and said, “I was always texting him. He never left me unread. That’s why I knew something was wrong last night. He didn’t text back for two hours, and he knows I hated that.” _y/n_ nodded. As cruel as it sounded in a moment like this, Kitty came across as insecure. Her clothing, demeanor, and intonation told _y/n_ that Kitty needed Mr. Drew for support and validation. _y/n_ got it. She’d felt the same way before herself when she was younger. However, the teary-eyed student hadn’t answered her second question, and _y/n_ gently prodded, “And did Jenni talk to Bob a lot? Did you ever feel like she was trying to get back together with him?” The anger was back in _y/n_’s face as she straightened up and out of JJ’s embrace. Kitty clenched her jaw before saying, “Hell yes she did. She texted him almost as much as I did. She acted like she was still his fucking girlfriend and not me. And they saw each other consistently too. They’re both in the nursing program and it’s brutal work. He relied on her to study with. She’s a TA and all so she could help him out. I know I’m not one to judge, I’m just a journalism major, but Bob procrastinated everything and I think he thought he could go to her and get all the answers. I told him not to, but like I said, he never listened to me.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I’m sorry to hear that he put you through that, and I’m sorry for your loss.” Kitty nodded, seeming to have calmed down from her hyper-emotional state. _y/n_ just needed to ask two more questions before she could let JJ continue her comfort and tell Kitty everything she needed to know. _y/n_ cleared her throat and said, “Kitty, just a few more things and I’ll let you talk to Ms. Jareau., “First, what’s Jenni’s last name, and do you know where Bobby was before he stopped texting you?” The student seemed to swallow back bile as she said, “Jenni, Jenni Foster. And Bobby was with her. He was supposed to have a big anatomy test today and they both went to the cadaver lab together. I wasn’t cool with it, but Bob promised me he’d be back by midnight.” _y/n_ nodded empathetically and said, “I’m sure he wanted to get back to you, Kitty. I know he would have if he could.” _y/n_ looked over to JJ and the media liaison nodded, knowing that _y/n_ had a lot to relay to the team. With JJ’s gentle nod, _y/n_ walked out past Kitty’s eyesight. Once this was the case, she sprinted back into the building. _y/n_ beeped into the dorm with her temporary ID and rushed to the elevator. As the metal box opened with a ding, _y/n_ pressed for floor fifteen. _y/n_ couldn’t be sure that Jenni Foster was the unsub, but something inside _y/n_ shot a pang of dread through her At least this was another lead if nothing else. Just outside the elevator to the floor of the crime scene. _y/n_ slipped on some latex gloves and a new mask. 

As soon as _y/n_ entered the room Aaron’s eyes turned to her. Through his mask, Hotch asked, “Any leads?” Hotch sounded as desperate as she had felt for an excuse to get out of the newest crime scene. _y/n_ nodded, catching his drift. She replied, “I’ve got a possible unsub, Jenni Foster, and a possible location for the last death.” Hearing this, everyone seemed to relax. It meant a chance to get out of the dorm. Hotch thought for a second and said, “Alright, Emily and I will try and find Ms. Foster, _y/n_ and Spencer, go to the last known location of the victim.” Aaron turned to look at Rossi, trying to give him an option for escape. David had already thought of what he could do and replied, “I can go and inform the president and the chief of the UPD, and I’ll call Garcia to see what she can dig up on Foster.” Hotch nodded and said, “Alright. Hopefully, this will give us some much-needed answers.” The team rode the elevator down to the ground floor. Aaron and Em moved toward the parked SUV in one of the reserved faculty spots, and Spencer asked, “Fill me in on what Kitty said.” _y/n_ took his elbow, as Reid tried to move up campus and not toward the School of Medicine. Spencer followed her lead, realizing he had no idea where they were headed. As the duo descended the stairs, _y/n_ replied, “Kitty said that Bobby had an ex-girlfriend who might have taken things to a bit of an extreme. Apparently, they were both in the nursing program and Bobby relied a lot on her for help even after she’d broken up with him.” Hearing this, Spencer cringed. He might not be the best at reading emotions, but he knew that was a no-go. Reid looked over at _y/n_, as they moved toward the south side of campus. He asked, “Are we sure, Kitty’s not the person we’re looking for?” _y/n_ shook her head and said, “It’s always a possibility, but she seemed pretty dependent on Bobby. I don’t know why she’d want to kill him. He cheated on Jenni with her and then left Jenni for Kitty. That’s why I think it’s Ms. Foster. We were saying that this was a crime of passion. What’s more passionate than a cheating boyfriend? Plus, Jenni and Bobby were in the cadaver lab last night, allegedly studying for a test. It feels like a little too much of a coincidence for it to just be nothing.” Spence nodded in agreement. Now that he knew where they were headed, he said, “You know we’re all susceptible to crimes of passion. Fifteen percent more than other crimes. Factor in the young age of college students brains not being fully developed, I’m surprised that we don’t see more issues on college campuses.” _y/n_ stopped Reid as he reached for the door and said, “Should we get UPD to come with us? What if Jenni’s here and does something drastic?” Reid pondered the question and said, “I doubt she’d go back to the scene so soon. We don’t even know if this is the scene. It’s a big plot point in mystery novels that killers go back to the site because no one would expect that, but it rarely happens. Generally, criminals are too concerned that they’ll be found or act strangely and then be suspected. Let’s just be on the lookout.” _y/n_ nodded and they moved into the building that held the cadavers of the Yale School of Medicine. 

Inside the cool, sleek building, _y/n_ and Spencer went up to the department office and flashed their badges. The student worker grabbed the head of the department. After a minute of waiting in the office, a sharply dressed woman came out, shook both of their hands and said, “Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Peters, Dean of Yale Medical School.” The woman extended a hand to both agents and ushered them into her office. Nobody sat and there was an air of tension in the room. Spencer took the lead on the conversation as the agent with the most experience. Reid stated, “If we can, Agent _y//l/n_ and I would like to see the cadaver lab. We have reason to believe that it might have been the last known location of Bobby Ashten. We understand that he was a student of the program.” When the words registered, Dr. Peter’s face shifted from one of discomfort to anger. She stated, “Well I’m sure that’s not possible. All of our students are highly vetted before entry into the program.” Reid and _y/n_ noticed the shift in tone and Spencer said, “It’s possible that it’s not a student on the school that ended up attacking Mr. Ashten, we just got a tip that his last known location was the cadaver lab last night. Could you tell us who has access to that space?” Peters seemed to calm slightly as Spencer noted that the unsub might not be a part of the department. _y/n_ gave him a little nod at de-escalating the situation. After a brief silence, the dean replied, “Access to that lab is granted to instructors and TAs only. The bodies are taken out for class demonstrations. There’s a sign-in sheet at the door on the third floor. Those who deal with the bodies have special qualifications. If someone did allow a student in there it would be highly unethical.” Now _y/n_ jumped in and said, “Yes, it would be. Dr. Reid and I are just trying to be thorough and precise like the department has to be with its students and protocols. I know you’d rather have this looked at and cleared up now instead of waiting till later in the year.” Peters nodded with some hesitation and said, “Fine, take a look at the lab. I’ll send a TA down to let you in, just follow their instructions to a tee.” Both Spencer and _y/n_ nodded in agreement. Dr. Peters called for a TA to wait by the cadaver lab. After this, she ushered them back into the main office and told the student worker behind the desk, “Please escort our guests to Lab 308. Answer any questions they might have.” Just as the trio was about to leave, Peters said, “And Agents, if you should need any help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask me personally.” The Spencer and _y/n_  thanked her and shook her hand before being led out by the student worker. 

Neither agent spoke much as they made their way to the third-floor lab. The student worker seemed to be giving an informal tour like she had been told to show off the department and its most prestigious alumni and features. To not make it awkward for the woman, _y/n_ or Spencer would comment or ask a relevant question to fill in the silence. Finally, they made it to the third floor and lab 308. The student halted and said, “This is Barry Whitehouse, one of our second-year TAs. He’ll let you into the lab and tell you all of the protocols.” With that, the young woman walked with urgency away from the group. _y/n_ looked at Spencer for a second, and they had a silent conversation. They both knew they were being watched and monitored. _y/n_ took the lead on this conversation, as the TA was looking at her with an expression that said he liked what he saw. Even though it made her skin crawl, _y/n_ extended a hand, saying, “Agent _y/n_. It’s nice to meet you.” _y/n_ even went as far as moving her free hand to flip her jacket to the side so Barry could see her badge. The man’s eyes were wide with awe like he’d stumbled across the fountain of youth and not some newbie FBI agent. _y/n_ had to stop herself from laughing. She hid the sound as a cough and quickly pulled her hand back from Mr. Whitehouse’s. _y/n_ pointed to Spencer and said, “And this is my partner, Dr. Reid.” Spence raised a hand in a half gesture of welcome. Barry frowned back at him. Sensing the tension, _y/n_ diverted the attention back to herself. In a voice laced with faux honey, she said, “So, we kinda need to get in the lab. Can you tell us what we need to know before going in there?” Barry’s attention snapped back to her, and he said, “Oh, yeah,” like he’d forgotten why he’d been called down from his office in the first place. The man cleared his throat and said, “Well it’s pretty basic stuff, wear gloves at all times, keep your hair back. You can pull the bodies out unless there’s red tape on the handle of the gurney. Looking is fine, but in no way are you to touch the bodies. No photography of any kind unless you have a warrant and lastly, you both need to sign the log at the door.” _y/n_ sent him another fake smile and led Spencer to the door before Barry could say anything else. She tossed gloves at Spencer while she signed the logbook. _y/n_ pulled her gloves over her hands and stepped into the lab after Reid. Barry seemed too shocked to state that he should go in with them to make sure they followed the department's standard procedure. 

Inside the sterile lab where the dead mingled with the living, _y/n_ and Spencer both slumped back against the wall. It felt like hours since they had been alone to just talk and run ideas around like they normally did on a crime scene. They both took a moment to compose themselves while they looked around the space. _y/n_ looked at the dead bodies and said, “Dr. Peters was so passive-aggressive. Good job on talking her down. What was that with he offering to help us at the end?” Spencer who was looking in the cabinets and drawers said, “It's all about funding and reputation at these schools. She was probably offended at the insinuation that something like what happened to Bobby did in her department, but in the end, it would look even worse if she seemed to be interfering in the investigation. Thus the change in tone.” Spencer took a breath and said, “And good on you for distracting Mr. TA out there.” For some reason _y/n_ heard a hint of jealousy in Reid’s words, but she didn’t read into it. Instead, she just said, “That was light work. I have a way of getting people flustered no matter what I do. But I think we won’t be alone for long. Barry will probably be in here in a minute or two.” Spencer bit his lip, as he looked around for a second and stated, “I don’t think we’ll find anything here.” _y/n_ looked at him dumbfounded and asked, “Why? We’ve only been in here for a few minutes and Jenni’s name was on the log outside. She was the last person in here.” Spencer’s sharp eyes caught _y/n_’s and he said, “Well, they might have been in here, but not for long. For one there’s no blue paint on any of these walls, and we found that on the body. And secondly,” Spence paused as if for dramatic effect, “There’s no formaldehyde. There is hydrochloric acid in the cabinets, but why keep the two separate if they were found together on Bobby?” _y/n_ pondered the puzzle and said, “It doesn’t make any sense. Not with the paint and the chemicals. This building is brand spanking new. The student worker told us.” Spencer nodded and said, “Exactly, and a brand new building means an old abandoned one as well.” As _y/n_ looked at Reid, he had the excited look of having a new idea look on his face. When he held the door open for _y/n_, she didn’t question his logic. She didn’t have time to try and read him as he followed after her out the door. 

Barry looked startled at their sudden reappearance. Reid approached the man and said, “Do you have a key to the old medical building down the hill and across the street? The one that’s set to be demolished at the end of the term?” The TA mumbled, “Well yes, but no one goes in there but staff now. There’s still some stuff that needs to be transferred over to this building. That place is a dump, really. It should be torn down.” Spencer nodded along and said, “Can I borrow your key? Just for an hour, I swear it could be important to the investigation. Don’t you want to help stop what’s been happening on campus?” Mr. Whitehouse looked uncertain and then moved his half-scared eyes to _y/n_’s _y/c/y/_’s ones. _y/n_ gave him a reassuring smile and the man took off his lanyard from his neck. Barry unclipped an old-looking key from his carabiner and instead of handing it to Spencer, brushed past the genius and placed it in _y/n_’s outstretched palm instead. _y/n_ thanked him, and as she moved to leave the new shiny building, she said, “Thanks, Barry. Hey, say, where’s the cadaver lab in the old building?” The TA replied softly, “The basement I think, G02.” Before the man could get another word in edgewise, _y/n_ and Spencer were darting out of the building and down the hill toward the old side of campus. As they half-jogged toward the new space with anticipation, _y/n_ asked, “How did you know about the old building? It wasn’t on any maps of campus that I saw.” Spencer replied as they moved across a busy street, “I noticed it in the newsletter outside yesterday when I was looking around. Something about an old building on campus being demolished soon. So I asked Garcia about it and she sent me the information. As soon as I heard it was the old school of medicine it piqued my interest.” _y/n_ looked at him bewildered with how smart Dr. Reid was. However, she didn’t have time to comment on it as she reached the door of the dilapidated building that was soon to be torn down. The outside facade read: Yale School of Medicine” in fading letters. From the outside, it looked like there was no working electricity inside. The thought of going in there sent a cold chill up her spine. Spencer seemed ready to go, and _y/n_ handed him the key saying, “I’m just going to shoot The team a text letting him know where we are. I don’t trust that texts will get out once we’re in there.” Reid nodded and replied, “Good idea,” as he slipped the key into the lock. _y/n_ shot off the message as she followed Spence’s hurried steps inside. Once the door was closed behind them, _y/n_ felt like the world had closed off behind her. The air was stale and foul. Even just a few steps from the door the light seemed to fade dimmer and dimmer. Spencer stopped at a directory and emergency map of the building's layout. _y/n_ flashed her phone’s flashlight on the map and Spence traced the path to the old cadaver lab in the basement. 

The idea of going into the bowels of the building had _y/n_ on edge, but she wasn’t going to let Spencer go alone. Reid looked at her and swallowed. _y/n_ could see he was nervous too and said, “Keep on the lookout.” With that, as if to still his fear, Spencer moved to the end of the long hallway and down the stairs to the basement level of the building. They both had their phone flashlights out trying to light the gloomy space. The silence and darkness was oppressive. Neither _y/n_ nor Reid wanted to talk as they pierced the dark. Even small sounds of the air conditioning or mice in the air vents had both of the agents spooked. _y/n_ remembered how the pictures of the bodies reminded her of a horror movie, and this was no different. She didn’t want to think of dying in a place like this. It was too awful to imagine. Although the building wasn’t that old, the bottom floor seemed more disused and old than the first floor. It felt like something out of a bad dream. The floors were dusty and the paint was peeling from humidity that had probably sprouted mold. Slowly they made it to the old lab. The door opened with a terrible squeak, letting anyone in the basement know that they were there. Unfortunately for them, the person whom Spencer hadn’t expected to see was waiting for them on the other side of the door. Just as Reid stepped into the tomb-like room, he was hit on the head with a metal tray. The lean agent stumbled back into _y/n_ who dropped her phone. Right as Spence moaned in pain, a set of strong hands pushed _y/n_ back into the far wall. _y/n_ clawed at her assailant, but it did no good, she got the same metal tray to the head that had incapacitated Spencer. The feeling of a cold needle inserted into _y/n_’s arm stilled her movements entirely. 

_y/n_ woke up to her head spinning. There was a light bulb somewhere above her, but it seemed to be swimming in the air. Its apparent swinging motion made _y/n_ feel sick to her stomach. Everything seemed so bright and dark at the same time. _y/n_ bit back any painful sound or bile from rising in her mouth. After a few minutes, _y/n_ could see more clearly. _y/n_ assessed the situation and realized that she was strapped to a metal chair. Her arms and legs were strapped to her sides and legs to that of the chairs' metal legs. _y/n_ lolled her head to the side and noticed Spencer similarly strapped to a metal table. His arms and legs were held tight by restraints. His shirt had been removed and _y/n_ wanted to look away to respect his privacy. _y/n_ also wanted to ask if he was okay. If anything had happened to him yet. _y/n_’s desire was cut short as a young woman moved into the stark space. _y/n_ now noticed the chipping navy paint, and she realized that this must be where the murders had taken place. _y/n_ took a breath and the woman standing in front of them said, “You’re finally awake. Good. I took your badges and guns. You won’t need them now. When I’m finished with you both you won’t be recognizable anyway. Did you think you were going to catch me down here? On my turf?” Jenni sounded cocky like she had her system down to a T. Spencer took a labored breath and said, “What, what do you plan on doing with us?” There was just a hint of fear in his voice. _y/n_ understood it. He was the one strapped up and disrobed, not her. Jenni gave a cold laugh and said, “I’m gonna cut you up of course. Put the motto of this fucking school on your back and then show that bitch Kitty just how wrong she is by making you as fucking ugly as that bastard you left me for a good-for-nothing whore in sophomore year. I gave him everything. And how does he repay me? By cheating on a dumb blonde that can’t even pass a biology test.” The weight of Jenni’s delusion and obsessiveness sat with _y/n_ as she watched the woman pull a glinting scalpel from a rotten drawer in the room and approach Spencer. It seemed she transferred her anger at being cheated onto her victims. And they were her latest. For one moment _y/n_ wanted to thrash and scream and close her eyes to everything around her. This didn’t feel fair. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for when she joined the BAU. It felt like being pushed into the lockers in high school for something she hadn’t done. And then it clicked. All of this, was so, so very high school, and if she could lean into that, maybe, just maybe she could buy time. Without even thinking, _y/n_ said, “Are you really so insecure that you had to kill other people too? Why not just Bobby and Kitty? They were the ones that fucked you over, right?” _y/n_’s statement had Jenni turn on her heel. A rage filled her face, turning it red as she retorted, “Well that wouldn’t be any fun now, would it? I could just kill them, but watching them suffer was so much better. I got rid of Bobby’s friends first, and he came crawling to me for support, not his little bitch. He never knew until it was too late, bless him. Then seeing Kitty’s face this morning when she found out he was dead, I could have framed it and put it on my mantle. I might still actually.” There was s tense silence before Jenni said, “But you’re just trying to distract me. I’m going to do your friend's first agent _y/l/n_ and then I’m going to do you, and I’ll make you watch just so you know what’s going to happen to you in a few minutes.” _y/n_ struggled against the zip ties that were holding her down, as she attempted to think of anything to stop Jenni from carving into the skin of Spencer’s back. Jenni started saying, “Lux et Veritas” over and over again as if steeling herself for what she was about to do. “This is about spite and insecurity,” _y/n_’s brain whispered to her. And did _y/n_ know a thing or two about insecurity? 

The words came unbidden, and _y/n_ said, “You know for a killer you’re really stupid. Dr. Reid didn’t go to Yale, he went to Stanford. But I guess you didn’t do your research huh Like you didn’t notice those bottles of formaldehyde over on the counter over there. So unless you’re ready to cut Die Luft der Freiheit Weht into Dr. Reid here, I think you’re shit out of luck. Just like you were in getting Bobby back..” Those words had the effect _y/n_ wanted on Jenni, but the outpouring of anger streaming from the woman with the knife left _y/n_ speechless for a moment as Jenni turned to face her. The unsub said, “Look at you fucking smart ass. What if I fixed your face before I end your partner? I could cut out your tongue and you wouldn’t be able to make any more smart quips. I bet you were always the center of attention. Well, no one will look at or hear you when I’m done. Of course, I’m saying that hypothetically. You’ll both be dead when I’m finished with you.” Jenni swiped the knife right in front of _y/n_’s face and the agent felt the blade just gash her brow. The wound could have been much, much worse. And _y/n_ expected it to be as Jenni stepped closer and said, “Now hold still and it won’t be so bad for you. I promise. I’ve done this loads of times. Except those were dead people and you’re not. So just act dead for a few minutes.” _y/n_ flinched and closed her eyes. Trying to picture anything that might comfort her and not what was actually happening. Perhaps her plans of distracting Foster from hurting Spencer had worked too well. But as _y/n_ reflected in a split second, _y/n_ realized it would be all worth it if he didn’t get hurt. Dr. Reid had a similar line of thought and said, “You hate cheaters, right Jenni? You don’t care about some girl who makes you feel othered. Your real issue is with people who betray those they claim to love. Well if you’re looking for someone to punish it’s me. I’m that guy. I can’t keep a girlfriend even though I’ve had plenty. They just grow stale to me. I’m never happy. Don’t blame _y/n_ for that. She’s always stood by me as I threw her feelings in her face time and time again.” Reid’s comments threw Jenni for a loop and she kept rocking back and forth not knowing who to get first. Who had done the worst thing in her mind? Even though _y/n_ had gawked at Spence’s statement, she caught on quickly to his strategy. First, he’d never had a girlfriend that she knew about, and second, he’d never, ever told her that he was interested in her, even though she was interested in him. And that was the game. Lie to Jenni, and keep her off balance enough to not let her get to either of them. Thankfully neither of the agents had to come up with more lies as the door to the room burst open. It was Hotch, Rossi, and Emily, plus a few LEOs from the UPD. Jenni was too stunned to move as Dave rushed in and took her hands, pulling them behind her back. Meanwhile, Aaron moved to Spencer to free him of his binds while Emily helped _y/n_ out of her zip ties. _y/n_ felt overwhelmed but rushed to Spence once he was free. She didn’t want to require comfort from him, but she needed it. They had some close to a bad end, and she didn’t even notice that he still hadn’t put his shirt back on yet. She pressed her face to his warm chest which was bare and heaving with the ordeal he had also been through. 

That realization hadn’t hit her until the stark red and blue lights were flashing from an ambulance in the bright light of day. While Hotch explained how he’d had a bad feeling about them going into the building alone. To _y/n_ it didn’t feel right to be outside in the daylight with JJ and Emily standing by her side as the paramedics looked over her and Reid. Nothing seemed to feel right after the cavernous dark that was the old med building. The fact that it was still daylight juxtaposed to the literal and metaphorical dark from before jarred _y/n_ in a way that she hadn’t expected. The medical professionals cleared both Spencer and _y/n_ after giving _y/n_ a bandaid for the cut on her face. 

The flight home felt strange as the team tried to decompress. _y/n_ felt a weight of inadequacy like she’d let things happen to her instead of initiating the action herself. And it had all happened so quickly with Jenni. _y/n_ sat with her thoughts at the back of the plane. Now and then she’d peek a glance at Spencer who was spread out across one of the couches sleeping. Sometimes _y/n_ thought that the jet was the only place she saw him sleep. Most of the time he was like a ball of nervous energy just waiting to be let out somehow. _y/n_ would walk with him on Sunday mornings, and he’d talk about how he’d stayed up all night reading a new ancient text online, or how he’d been the last person at the library just as they closed. And during the week if _y/n_ tossed and turned, she’d call Spence up and ask him what he was doing. Or she’d try and think about the most random question, like how many cows there were in Iowa, or what was the shortest river in Europe, and who decided what was a river and what was a stream. He always had an answer for her silly questions. He would talk long enough that she would fall back asleep with her face pressed into the covers and Reid still talking until he was sure she was asleep. Just once, _y/n_ had thought that Spencer had made up some fact or figure just to fill the quiet space in the night. So she could finally rest. She hadn’t asked him about it after. She knew she was just lucky to have him as a friend. Now as Spencer dreamt and she doubted, it felt weird. _y/n_’s train of thought was interrupted as Rossi sat across from her with a small groan. Dave looked at how tired _y/n_ appeared and said, “What’s eating you, kid?” Rossi’s affectionate nickname always brought a smile to _y/n_’s face and this was no exception, except it slipped quickly after. _y/n_ rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and said, “I don't know Rossi. I didn’t feel like a profiler back there. I felt like a kid. What’s the point of all the training and stuff if you feel too scared when you really should be doing your job?” Dave nodded in understanding and said, “_y/n_, we all freeze. All of us. Don’t think you’re some rare exception to that. But when it came to it, you did act. One doesn’t have to feel like a profiler to profile. Nobody was calling Howard Teten a profiler when he came up with the method we use, and yet he still did it. Profiling is less about fancy words and techniques and more about trusting your gut when things get hairy. And you did just that. You realized that provoking the unsub would distract her from Spencer. And I’m sure Dr. Reid would be happy to tell you that he’s relieved he didn’t leave that situation with a permanent mark of Yale or Stanford’s mottos carved into his back.” That had _y/n_ chuckle and Rossi was happy to see her lighten up a bit. The older man stood and just before he moved to take his seat across from Aaron again, he said, “Remember kid, in the end, we’re all just base instincts. Just things filled with wants and needs No one can fight them, not even Spencer Reid.” Rossi patted her shoulder and left her wide-eyed and speechless. Was Rossi, Rossi hitting on her on Spencer's behalf? _y/n_ had to move to the bathroom to not let anyone see how flustered she was at the soft comment. 

In the small space, _y/n_ splashed cold water on her face. She looked into the mirror at her appearance. She’d hoped that she couldn’t be read that easily. She’d hidden her feelings for Spencer from everyone, especially Reid. If he’d caught on, he hadn’t said anything about it. _y/n_ sent up a prayer that no one else had noticed apart from Rossi. She didn’t have the bandwidth to think about it right now and she couldn’t stay holed up in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. _y/n_ took a deep breath, straightened her _y/f/c_ shirt, and then moved back into the cabin of the plane. When she got back to her seat the wave of exhaustion she had been waiting to hit her for the last hour and a half finally did. As she let sleep take her, she wondered if it was possible that Spencer loved her back. She doubted it. When the jet landed back in Quantico, it was dark and sleeting outside. The winter weather just wasn’t ready to let go yet. It wouldn’t for at least another month. As everyone piled into the bullpen, shaking off the cold, Spencer approached _y/n_ and said, “I’ll drive you home if you're ready.” _y/n_ looked up from her go bag and said, “You don’t have to do that Spence. I can take the tube. My place is in the opposite direction from yours.” Reid rolled his eyes and said, “I know that, _y/n_.” It’s not like he hadn’t driven her home every chance he got without it being too obvious that he had a crush on her. They always had this dance of her saying no but then giving in when he’d just wait around her desk. It wasn’t any different this night. Reid didn’t like the idea of _y/n_ taking a bus, and then a long train ride to her home every night. It wasn’t just the high rate of accidents that happened on public transport and a crumbling infrastructure system, but the people she might see there. Reid wasn’t one for catastrophizing but he just didn’t want _y/n_out there where anything could happen to her. His mind flashed to the case and how Jenni had held the scalpel at _y.n_. ; promising to “fix her.” At that moment in the dark, the last thing he was thinking about was himself. The scene was eating at his insides like acid. It took _y/n_ tapping him on the shoulder and saying, “I’m ready now if the offer’s still valid.” Spencer nodded and they both walked out into the night. 

On the twenty-minute drive back to her place there was silence until Reid asked, “What are you doing once you get home?” _y/n_ looked at him with some surprise. He didn’t normally ask her about what she did outside of work. She assumed he just wasn’t interested, thus why she thought he didn’t have feelings for her. _y/n_ replied, “I don’t know. Probably have _y/f/f/f_ delivered and watch _y/f/f/g/m_. I need a good light-hearted distraction after that case.” She then turned the question on him and said, “How about you?” Spencer flipped on the turn signal and smoothly took his car on the wide turn that led to _y/n_’s street. He stole a glance at her and then back at the road before saying, “Probably do some reading. And I need to call my mom. I do it on the second of every month. I have to call her on even days of the month. She gets angry if I don’t.” Hearing the date had something snap in _y/n_. She muttered, “Oh God, it’s the second already?” Spencer looked at her concerned and said, “_y/n_, what’s the matter?” _y/n_ took her hands from her head and said, “I have that lecture to give in two days for Derek. I completely forgot about it with the case.” The lecture was sounding more and more like a pain, especially now that she would have to write it in just two days. Reid said, “I could stay and help you if you like?” _y/n_ nodded her head no and said, “Thanks Spence, but I’ll figure it out. I just gotta have a cup of c/t_ or an energy drink or something.” Even as the word left her, _y/n_’s heart ached. She wanted Reid’s help so much, needed it. But he looked so tired. More than usual. _y/n_ knew the incident in the lab had shaken him up like it had her, but he was just better at hiding it. Also, _y/n_ felt that if they were couped up in her tiny overpriced studio apartment together she’d do something she’d regret. Something that she wouldn’t ever be able to take back. Rossi’s comment on the plane wasn’t helping her think clearly, and she needed a clear head to write this stupid lecture. _y/n_ didn’t notice the little tug of concern on Spence’s lips as he pulled in front of her building. He just said, “Okay, _y/n_. Well, I’ll give you a ring after I call my mom and see how you’re doing. Okay?” _y/n_ nodded and took her bag from Reid’s hand. She very quickly said goodbye and thanked him, as she almost sprinted out of the car. She was beginning to feel a headache come on and if she stayed a moment longer she would invite him and I’d all be over. She couldn’t sacrifice the great friendship she had built with him for a fling that might not pan out. Holed up in her space, _y/n_ let whatever emotions she had flooded over her and she dropped her bag with a thud and crawled into bed for an hour. It was Spencer’s call that got her up and to work with what she assumed was going to be the worst N.A.T. lecturer of all time. 

_y/n_ had shown up at the office with a persistent headache and a half-shod draft of what she hoped she could shape into a lecture by the end of the day. Five hours after her arrival, Spencer was making comments that she didn’t understand and weren’t exactly encouraging sounding. _y/n_ stood and said, “Alright Spence. Let me see it, you’re not annotating Chaucer after all.” Reid looked up at her, pen still in hand. _y/n_ didn’t sound pleased and he wasn't sure why. He handed her lecture back to her and watched her face contort slightly at what he thought were very helpful notes. _y/n_ let out a breath and sat on the edge of Spence’s desk. His comments might be copious and slightly annoying, but he was still offering to help her which she was grateful for. She’d have to say she was sorry for being so snippy, but she didn’t feel a hundred percent and it was showing in her actions. However, the apology never had a chance to be voiced as Reid’s comments began to swim in front of _y/n_’s eyes, the bright and happy voices of Em, JJ, and Garcia cut through the haze. _y/n_ looked over at the group. Emily said, “We’re getting drinks at the bar down the street. Y’all should come with us. It’s past five and we deserve a drink after that case.” _y/n_ opened her mouth to say no, but Penelope cut her off saying, “All work and no play makes _y/n_ a dull girl. Now, do you want to be a dull girl in front of the NATs tomorrow?” _y/n_ shook her head and let out a laugh at Garcia’s logic. As cliche as it was, _y/n_ couldn’t argue with it. The _y/h/c_ed agent put her hands up in surrender and said, “Alright, alright. I’m coming.” That got a cheer from the group. _y/n_ looked over at Spencer and said, “You coming?” Reid wanted to say no, to just keep working for a while longer, but _y/n_’s strange behavior and the pleading look she was giving him had him cave and agree too. _y/n_ dropped her lecture notes on her desk as she grabbed her purse and left with the group. The five agents drove in Emily’s and JJ’s cars to the strip of bars near the Quantico Field office. As everyone clamored into a booth at the iconic South of DC Bar, Garcia said, “I can’t wait for the weather to get better and for it to be light out later. Winter gives me the ick big time.” Everyone laughed and agreed. A waiter came and got their first round of drinks. _y/n_ wasn’t planning on drinking a lot due to her engagement in the morning and Spencer only got water. He wanted to make sure there was at least one person sober to drive them back if need be. _y/n_ stuck to her plans and just had one other drink which was a shot, paid for by Penelope. Garcia, JJ, and Em had finally gotten _y/n_ and Spencer out together, but the plan to get the two, young, agents together wasn’t working as they hoped. The fact that _y/n_ wasn’t drunk enough to ask how her dating life was going to steer the conversion in that direction. Spencer also seemed to have something on his mind as he sipped his water and didn’t seem that invested in the conversation the group was having. Of course, Em, JJ, and Pen couldn’t know that he was replaying the scene from his car over and over again in his head. He wondered if he’d said something to piss _y/n_ off. She’d been acting differently since they’d arrived home. Reid knew he could be blunt, and come off as uncaring, but last night he’d tried at tenderness, and _y/n_’s response seemed to confirm that she wasn’t interested in him like that. Not like he wanted them to be. 

The evening seemed like a bust, as the group closed out and moved toward their cars. They had to park a few streets over as the bar crowd picked up right after work in the inner city. As the group moved toward their vehicles, the sound of five guys in an alley across the road caught the profilers’ attention. _y/n_ looked through the gloom and noticed the men huddled around a woman who seemed to be very drunk, or even drugged. The sight had a hard pit form in _y/n_’s stomach. Rossi had talked about instinct and desire, and _y/n_ knew the men surrounding the helpless women had a bad desire. Desire was one thing, but when it went bad, it went really bad as evidenced by Jenni. _y/n_ wouldn’t stand it. She wasn’t going to let this just happen to a stranger. Emily had seen the same thing and both agents quickly ran across the road avoiding a car. Prentiss shouted, “Hey. get your hands off her. Back off!” The group of men turned. One smiled with terrible teeth and said, “Look fellows, some girls want to join the fun.” _y/n_ could have spat with anger at being called a girl. She held back her fury and said, “You heard my friend, get the fuck off of her.” The apparent leader of the group said, “Well men. Looks like we have a fighter. Try and make me babe.” The tall man couldn’t have expected to be thrown against the wall and away from the woman he’d been harassing. The leader, snapped up in anger for being manhandled even though that was what he’d just been doing himself. The rage surged in him and he stepped forward. He was significantly taller than _y/n_ and it didn’t take much for him to slam _y/n_ into the wall she had pushed him into. As he gripped _y/n_’s _l/m/s_ hair at the base he growled, “You little whore. I’ll show you what happens when a cunt gets in my way.” The man pressed his body to her’s pinning her to the wall. He then grabbed her head and smashed it into the brick wall. If _y/n_ had thought her head hurt before in the office it didn’t even compare on a scale with what she was feeling now. Everything went black for a second and her body slumped against the wall. 

Spencer watched it all happen before he could do anything because the cars now wouldn’t stop coming. He cringed as _y/n_’s face got bashed into the wall. He watched as Emily moved in to help and pulled the guy away before being hit too. Finally, the cars stopped because of the red light up ahead, and Spencer shouted at JJ, “Call the cops,” as he sprinted across the road and past a stalled car. Reid booked it across the road. When he was a foot from the scene, he used the strongest voice he had to say “Federal Agent, break it up right now.” Spencer channeled Derek and Aaron as much as he could, as he pushed one of the men off Emily. The leader looked up and said, “Yeah, yeah beanpole. Show me a badge and I’ll believe you.” Reid let out a heavy breath, pulled out his badge, and flashed it around to the men who were now moving slowly back into the alley. The group noticed as JJ and Garcia ended up on their side of the street, flashing their badges. The last straw was when Emily got up and showed her badge too. The flashing of police lights had the group scatter like flies. JJ stepped forward and helped the woman who had been harassed up and toward the first police car that arrived while Spencer knelt next to _y/n_ and Emily. _y/n_was stirring back to wakefulness and the pain stunned her into groaning. _y/n_ kept her eyes closed as concerned voices floated above her. The sounds of sirens mostly filled her ears. _y/n_ moved a hand to touch her face which was throbbing with a consistent pain down her nose and cartilage beneath it.  _y/n_’s hand got stopped and that firm yet gentle grip finally had her open her eyes. Spencer was holding her hand and said in a worried voice, “Don’t touch your face, _y/n_. I think your nose is broken. Can you breathe through it at all?” _y/n_ took a tentative breath through it and replied, “I can. It hurts, but I can.” Her voice sounded weak and far away. As _y/n_ came more to her senses, her pain level heightened, and she noticed Emily beside her. Prentiss looked as bad as _y/n_ felt and _y/n_ said, “Em, how are you? You okay?” Prentiss shrugged and said, “I’ve felt better, but I’ll survive. Nothing gives me as much satisfaction as scaring some tough guys off. I just wished it ended without us looking like we fell down five flights of stairs.” Prentiss’s comment had _y/n_ chuckle which was a mistake as it hurt like hell the instant _y/n_  started laughing. _y/n_ looked up as JJ’s familiar shoes approached the group on the ground. JJ bent down next to Spencer and asked, “Should I call an ambulance?” Em cut in and said, “Not for me. I’m not going to spend hours in a hospital only to be given some Benadryl and an exorbitant co-pay. I’m not that bad. If it keeps hurting in the morning I’ll go the the ER.” JJ acknowledged Emily’s point and then looked over to _y/n_. _y/n_ was in pain, but the more she thought about it, the more she thought that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with her apart from her nose. _y/n_ looked from Spencer and then to JJ and said, “I think I’m fine. I can breathe and see straight. Just a bit sore.” Again JJ nodded and said, “Okay, well Hotch is on his way. Garcia called him before we crossed the street and some of the cops went to look for those guys while the others were taking care of the lady we found.” Hearing that Hotch was coming had _y/n_ groan and say, “Hotch is gonna be mad. I shouldn’t have jumped into a scene like that.” Emily chuckled and said, “Well it was pretty impressive, but let me handle him. We’ve all done something like this before. It’s just the first time for you. He’ll have some stern words for you in his office tomorrow, but he’ll understand.” _y/n_ gave a little nod and felt comforted by Emily’s reassurance. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as she imagined. 

Spencer helped her to her feet after another minute on the cold ground, _y/n_ grunted with the effort, but put on a brave face which was bleeding again. The wound from Jenni had reopened and was oozing blood, along with her nose and a split lip. _y/n_ could taste the iron of her blood as she wiped at her face with her sleeve. _y/n_ leaned heavily on Reid, as she gave a brief statement to the cops and a bit of a longer one to Aaron who had his arms crossed over his chest in a pseudo-disappointed but mainly concerned face. After a half hour, Spencer approached JJ and they had a quiet conversation between them. It ended with JJ handing over her car keys and giving him a pat on the shoulder. _y/n_ was leaning against one of the cop cars, and Spencer approached her with a soft concern. The genius said, “Alright, _y/n_ I’m taking you to the ER.” _y/n_ looked up at him and said, “Can’t you just take me home?” Spence nodded no and replied, “Nope. You don’t have to go to the hospital, but I am having you looked at. If nothing else I need to make sure your nose isn’t broken.” _y/n_ tried a last defense as she said, “But Emily…” Spencer cut her off and said, “Emily is Emily, and Hotch is taking her to the ER too, she just doesn’t know it yet. Now please stop arguing with me, _y/n_.” Whatever _y/n_ was going to say died in her mouth. Spencer’s tone left no room for negotiation. She’d never heard him be so demanding yet comforting at the same time. They walked silently to JJ’s car. Spencer opened the passenger side door for her, before getting in the driver's seat. He turned the key in the ignition and drove toward the nearest clinic. _y/n_ closed her eyes and tried not not sound like she was struggling to breathe or make pained sounds as they drove over speed bumps or potholes. _y/n_ didn’t know if or what to say. She was contemplating how many new things had happened to her this week. How she’d personally been threatened by an unsub, how she’d gotten into another hairy situation this evening. As _y/n_ reflected on the two incidents, she could at least say she had acted decisively on the second occasion. _y/n_ could feel Spencer thinking beside her and she had to ask, “Are you disappointed in me?” _y/n_ didn’t know why she asked, or if she wanted to know the answer, but Spence was her best friend and she didn’t think she could stand not knowing what he was thinking. The heavy silence had _y/n_ squirm in her seat. After another minute and a lot of rewording in Reid’s head, he replied, “I’m not disappointed in you, _y/n_. Just worried. First, there was the case in the lab, and now this. I wish you didn’t jump into things so strongly. But you did the right thing. The brave thing.” Again Spencer was giving her mixed signals. She didn’t know if he was mad at her or proud. Or maybe a mix of both. It was so hard to tell with him and her head was pounding again. Trying to understand what Reid’s core emotion was, she stated, “You would have jumped in too. Emily did.” Spencer sighed deeply and said, “I would have jumped in now. But probably not when was a first-year agent. I know now that I don’t have to physically jump into every situation, but that comes with time.” Reid’s statement only left _y/n_ more confused, so she shut her eyes and mouth and just tried to breathe normally. For a profiler, she didn’t feel that good at reading him right now. 

Spencer was doing his darndest to mask his real emotions, concern, and worry. He’d meant what he said to _y/n_, but he hadn’t meant it to come off as so passive-aggressive. So hot and cold. The issue was he was all hot and soft and wanted to pull _y/n_ into a hug and tell her that she had been so brave, if not cocky for taking on five men at once. It wasn’t the technique he would have used, but she’d moved on instinct, a pure instinct to protect and defend someone in need. He saw her do this over and over and over on the field. She did it with him and it made him love her even more. But _y/n_ was trying to act brave and fight back tears as they got closer to the ER, and he didn’t know how to tell her he cared about her more than anything without telling her he loved her. It wasn’t possible, so he let the silence sit again. Thankfully the small clinic that was nearest to them was only five minutes away, and he pushed the pedal down a bit farther to get _y/n_ the care she claimed she didn’t need. 

Inside the small office, Spencer grabbed an intake packet while _y/n_ handed over her insurance card. The receptionist said, “It should be about thirty minutes. The nurse will call you back when they’re ready for you.” Reid nodded and led _y/n_ to a chair. She had her eyes closed and her head in her hands. The pain was slowly ebbing back into her body as her energy dipped again. Spencer realized that the lights were bothering her, and he set the forms down on the adjacent chair. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over _y/n_’s hunched head and shoulders. _y/n_ felt an instant reprieve as the lights that she was trying to keep out of her view disappeared under a blanket of black. She let out a sigh of relief. Swallowing down her emotions, _y/n_ peaked out from under the coat. Spencer was filling out the tedious form for her and she whispered, “Thanks, Spence.” Spencer looked over to her and said, “Of course, _y/n_.” He patted his shoulder as if saying, “You can rest your head here.” _y/n_ had never heard him use such kindness with her before. He looked out for her, but not like this. She didn’t have the energy to read into anything anymore. She just accepted what was being offered and dropped the jacket over her face again, not caring if she looked silly. _y/n_ also dipped her head onto his warm shoulder, letting the scratching of the pen and the dimmed sound of the TV fill her ears. A half-hour later, _y/n_ got seen by a doctor who informed her that her nose had a minor fracture. The doctor did put two stitches in on her forehead to close up the scar that was much deeper than _y/n_ had expected. _y/n_ tried to pay attention as the medical man gave her care instructions and prescription for a stronger pain relief. He also gave her a large dose of Advil for her to be able to rest that night. Reid checked her out and got her prescription from the nurse at the exit. The tired woman tried to flirt with him, but he didn’t respond. He just wanted to get _y/n_ home safely. 

The ride back was soft as the pain medication started making _y/n_ drowsy. Spencer got her up to her apartment and room. Just as Spencer thought _y/n_ was asleep, _y/n_ said, “Call me tomorrow at eleven so I can get up in time to make that lecture.” Reid wanted to tell her to take a break. He’d give the lecture, but by that time she was already asleep. Reid let out a soft breath. He pulled the covers over _y/n_’s form and turned off the light in her room. Spencer softly slipped out of her room and locked the electronic lock behind him. As he drove JJ’s car back to the liaison’s apartment, he considered his feelings. How he’d watched _y/n_ grow as an agent so far with the BAU. They had just kind of clicked in a way that he hadn’t expected. It had started as early as her first case as she noticed something in his geographic profile that he had missed. As it turned out sometimes Spencer’s attention to tiny details and his expansive knowledge left holes in the bigger picture. Holes that _y/n_ could see and point out. She’d come to him personally to point it out. She didn’t make a big deal of catching something that the infamous Dr. Reid had missed. She didn’t try and show off, she just pointed it out like he was a normal person, like everyone else who made human errors. Since then they had just stuck. They balanced the other out. Spencer sighed as he thought about her battered face, her desire to prove herself again and again like she wasn’t good enough already. That was the problem with liking someone in the department, who had to watch them throw themselves in danger over and over and it killed Reid. That was another reason he had kept his feelings at bay. But tonight something had shifted, and he didn’t know if he could pretend anymore. He’d sleep on it and re-evaluate in the morning. He found this policy worked for almost everything in his life, and he hoped to any God that it would bring clarity the following day. 

As it turned out, _y/n_ didn’t need to have Spencer call her in the morning, as she woke up sore and in pain at 7:00 a.m. She got up and drank a glass of water with her pain meds. She reminded herself that she needed to pick up her prescription as she started making some _c/t_. _y/n_ then moved to the mirror and cringed at the sight of her face. _y/n_ did her best to fight the puffiness with makeup, but even as hard as she tried, no makeup was going to cover everything. The stitches for one couldn’t be touched for a few days, so they stood out like a sore thumb. _y/n_ called Emily and asked if she was coming in that morning. Prentiss replied, “Yup. Hotch wants to talk to us. I forgot to tell you last night. I kind of passed out once I got home.” _y/n_ nodded, accepting the inevitable, and said, “Okay. What time did he say?” Pernitss replied, “Noon. He promised to make it quick.” _y/n_ bit the inside of her mouth, but she’d rather get this unpleasant lecture over with before giving her lecture later in the day. _y/n_ asked, “Can you come pick me up? I want your reassurance before seeing Hotch.” Emily lightly laughed on the other end of the line and said, “You got it. _y/n_. Be there in thirty-ish minutes.” _y/n_ got changed and picked up her work bag. She remembered Spencer and shot him a text as Emily arrived saying that she was up and headed to the office. She also said, “Thanks for your help last night. See you in a few.” _y/n_ still wasn’t sure what last night was between them, a fight? A confession? She couldn’t say, but she was too stressed about the meeting with Hotch to think about it now. 

Hotch’s lecture about jumping into situations without thinking first was stern enough to remind them to not do that again but hinted at a kind of pride that he only showed for his team and no one else. Two hours after that talk _y/n_ was standing in front of the lectern with a sea of NATs sitting in front of her. There were at least two hundred in this class, and somehow giving this lecture now felt more daunting than anything else that had happened that week. Maybe because it was the last big thing she needed to do before the weekend, or that she was a bit overdressed for the occasion, or that the lights were hurting her eyes. The front of the stage was uncomfortably hot with all the lights pointed at her. _y/n_ took one last breath before looking at her useless notes, which she hadn’t looked at since yesterday afternoon. The man that had introduced her had just said that Derek Morgan couldn’t make it today and then said her name and that was it. _y/n_ felt like they deserved a better explanation than that. So she started by saying, “Well, as you all know, Derek Morgan was supposed to be talking to you today. As you can see, I’m not him.” That got a chuckle from a good part of the audience. _y/n_ placed her hand on either side of the lectern and said, “If it’s not clear by Morgan’s absence, and well, my face, a lot of unexpected things can happen in the FBI. And that’s really what your case studies are about. To learn to adapt and observe. You’ve got a month left at the academy and that month is going to go fast, so allow me to tell you what to expect.” _y/n_ looked out at the young and eager faces in front of her. She looked to the back and noticed Spencer standing there. She’d hardly had time to see him today, and it gave her a profound amount of comfort to have him here. _y/n_ relaxed and jumped into her thoughts and experiences with her case studies. She hardly went off her notes and just went on instinct. She didn’t sound rehearsed or like she was trying to be smart. She was just being herself. The person Spencer admired more than anyone at the moment. _y/n_ managed to make it through most of her remarks and felt grateful that the agents in training were paying attention to her while taking notes or nodding along. She detailed how now was the time to make mistakes. How it was better to ask all your questions, even stupid ones, during these exercises and not when you were out on the field. How to tag evidence, and how to look for small and big details in the fake cases they would be given. Just as _y/n_ was about to make her final point and wrap up, a wave of dizziness hit her out of nowhere. _y/n_ stumbled a bit, and suddenly, the lights were so bright, and her jacket felt like it was suffocating her. Not sure what was happening, _y/n_ closed her eyes tight and gripped the lectern tightly. There was a murmur from the NATs. This wasn’t how she wanted her lecture to end, but not thinking of any other choice but ducking behind the stage to get a seat, she said, “Sorry. I’m not feeling so well. My friend and colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid will close out the lecture. Thank you all for your time, and good luck with the last month. I believe all of you have what it takes to be great agents.” There were a few hesitant claps of applause as _y/n_ moved off stage on shaky feet. She was met by the man who had introduced her, and led her to a chair on the side of the stage. He asked if she wanted to go, but she protested and just sat in the dark trying to regain her composure. 

Spencer had watched as _y/n_ swayed unsteadily at the front of the room. His heart leaped in his chest, seeing _y/n_ like this. He hadn’t expected to be called to speak. But _y/n_ had asked, and he moved onto the stage. He quickly introduced himself even though everyone in the audience already knew who he was. Reid looked down at the last page of _y/n_’s notes, which she had sort of been following, and realized most of the page were just his corrections, and suddenly, he understood why she had been so annoyed yesterday morning. His annotations were too much to be helpful. Spence sighed, looked at the students, and then into the wings where _y/n_ was sitting on a chair. Reid started talking, but it wasn’t for the students, at least not wholly. He said, “Being in the FBI isn’t an easy job. I think you all know that now, and if you don’t, well I guess it’t not too late to quit, but what will all have that work been for then? As you head into your case studies, I have one last thing to tell you, and that’s that you need friends now and when you’re on the field. I say this because there’s always something you’ll miss, and if you make friends, they can tell you that and fill in the gaps. You need someone you can call night or day because things will get hard, and you’ll be lost or scared or think you’re not doing enough. You’ll need someone to remind you that you're just as human as everyone else. So as you get sorted into your teams and assigned your cases, get to know your team members. Trust them. I think that’s the best advice I can offer you. Thank you.” With that, Spence exited stage left and replaced the introducer who moved back into the bright light of the stage to dismiss the NATs. Spencer checked in with _y/n_, who said, “Thanks Spence. Sorry to put you on the spot like that.” Reid shook his head and said, “It was nothing. How do you feel, what happened?” _y/n_ swallowed and said, “I don’t know, I just got faint. It’s passed now, I think.” Spencer couldn’t hide his genuine concern for her as he said, “_y/n_, please let me take you to the hospital or something. You shouldn’t be nearly fainting.” _y/n_ looked at him and didn’t think she could bear another two hours in a waiting room. She said, “Spencer, please. If you’ve ever cared about me, can you just take me to _y/l/p_ and then drive me home?” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Reid stilled at her words and said, “Okay, _y/n_. Whatever you want.” The pair quickly made it to Spencer's car in the lot just outside the NAT training building. 

Once they were inside his car, _y/n_ said, “Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say it like that. I didn’t mean to assume or throw your concern back in your face. You’ve always been so nice to me, and I guess I just saw what I wanted to.” Reid looked at _y/n_ and said, “I love you, _y/n_.” The words astounded _y/n_, and she didn’t know what to say apart from, “What?” Spencer looked at her with the eyes he had last night on the drive back to her apartment and said, “I’ve loved you for a long time, and I didn’t know what to say. I meant everything up there on that stage. You’re my best friend, and you remind me that I’m human, and why I’m doing what I am. I just didn’t say the part about how I’ve been bottling up my feelings for months now. Because I’m a coward when it comes to my feelings. _y/n_ was almost in tears now, and she said, “You’re not a coward Spencer, and if you are, then I am too because I love you too, and I never said anything either.” Spence couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned across the console to embrace _y/n_. He was mindful of her face, and as _y/n_ pressed into him, he relaxed. Feelings were hard. He still didn’t fully understand them, but with _y/n_, he was just human enough to want to embrace them.

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[stxr-slut]

So uhm.. I disappeared. Sorry to the small amount of people who follow me. Idk if any of yall give a shit but I'm back, I think.

Idk how much motivation I'm gonna have, but if you have any requests for the characters I write for, send em in!

An updated list of who I write for :

Obx

Jj Maybank John B Pope Hayward

Kiara Carrera Sarah Cameron Cleo Anderson

Harry Potter

George Weasley Fred Weasley Sirius Black

Regulus Black

The Hunger Games (+ TBOSAS)

Finnick Odair Heymitch Abernathy Sejanus Plinth

Pjo

Luke Castellan. Percy Jackson

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid. Aaron Hotchner Derek Morgan

Emily Prentiss. Jennifer Jareu. Penelope Garcia

Twilight

Jacob Black Edward Cullen Bella Swan

Charlie Swan

X-men:

Wolverine/Logan

Probably missed some people and left out some characters that I'm willing to write for but I'm not sure if ik the character well enough to write them accurately, so if you want to request a specific character you can just be mindful of my boundaries and be respectful if I decline the request.

[ask-the-skele-lesbian-sisters]

Welcome to the Fontcest Skele-sisters blog! Ask Sarah and Penelope anything.

Please read the rules

In case you guys ask, you can only ask Sarah and Penelope right now. Sorry if there aren’t anyone else to ask.

[natti-ice]

Guyssss I need y’all to come be gay with me☹️ I wanna talk about women!!

[braveclementine]

The Death of Sharon Carter

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

Sam, Clint, Vi, and Trang came into the room at that moment. Tony staggered to his feet, which nearly gave out, but he managed to get to Trang, hugging her fiercely while she clung to him. "Are you okay? The baby?" Tony managed to choke out, head spinning. 

"Well, I'm okay. But I'm going to have to check in with a doctor or something on little bean." Trang murmured, looking shaken. "Tony. . . Loki isn't doing to good. Having to fight those clones of you was a lot for him." 

"I know. I saw." Tony mumbled. "There was a clone up here that had us paralyzed with some sort of device. It had put cameras up and we saw. . . fuck Trang I thought I'd lost you. I could strangle Riri." 

"Ghaida." Elijah murmured, voice hoarse, coming over to her. He felt numb still. His fire wasn't producing and he couldn't feel anything, emotionally or physically. "Ghaida." 

"Elijah." Ghaida whispered, a hand sliding up to cup his face. "It's okay. She's okay. She's alive." 

Elijahs' knees almost gave out at the news. "Oh thank God." 

"Almost literally." Ghaida smiled a little. "Heimdall caught her in the bifrost. She was pulled skyward. Loki is bringing her, Rue, and Nick down right now." 

At that, the door opened to the common room. Elizabeth looked beat up, Fury was covered in blood, Heimdall looked composed, and Loki looked exhausted. Rue was in Loki's arms, but Loki immediately passed her to Bucky and then collapsed into Tony and Stephens' arms. He broke right then and there, sobbing into them and the three of them held each other tightly. 

Heimdall had Sharon in his arms and he now placed her in the middle of the room. She was still unconscious, a large knot on the side of her head where she had been hit with the gun. 

"Why is she still alive?" Katya snarled suddenly. 

"Because it is not our decision to kill her." Heimdall said solemnly. Elijah noticed that the all seeing God was looking at the floor instead of them. "It is only Rogers place to choose her fate." 

Steve looked hesitant and uncertain, staring down at the blond in the room. Then he looked at Fury. Fury was looking at Elizabeth with a tender expression on his face, but when he saw Steve was looking at him, he just shrugged. 

His gunshot wound had been healed by Loki, and Penny came over and hugged him. Fury hugged his daughter back tightly. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah. Nothing happened to me." Penny whispered. "The clone that was sent after me just melted. It burned a little, but nothing drastic." 

"Steve, I'm more than willing to take care of this if you're not up to it." Sam said, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"I'll help." Tony, Thor, and Natasha all snarled together. Bucky looked on the verge of shooting her right then and there. Maybe he would. 

"No." Steve said, finally moving forwards, picking the traitor up in his arms. "Heimdall is right. This is my responsibility. You can all stay here, there's no need to follow me." 

Penny hesitated, wanting to stay by her fathers' side, while also wanting to go to Steve. But perhaps this was something that was better done by himself. 

Only ten seconds after Steve had gone, Bucky, Sam, and Elizabeth ran out of the room after him. 

Because they were with him till the end of the line. 

🔑☄️ ᑭØש 𝐂𝓱𝒶ᑎ𝕘Ẹ 🌀😈

Steve put Sharon up against the wall in the simulation room, turning the screens on. The simulation turned to one of a mountain scenery in the summer. Still white capped mountains of snow, but also fields of small purple flowers. 

Steve had never particularly liked the scene before. It always reminded him of the mountains when he lost Bucky. Even after he got Bucky back, he still had never liked the scene. 

But Sharon had loved it and he had loved Sharon. So he had gone with the mountains whenever she wanted them. 

Now, he was wondering why he had done anything at all. His love for her had faded all in six seconds when he realized that she'd had an abortion of his child. And he felt more annoyed with her presence as the months had gone on than anything else. 

He realized now that Bucky was right. He had never really loved Sharon. Not really. It was leftover excess from Peggy. And even Peggy, he was realizing, he hadn't loved, not really. Not the way that he loved Bucky or Sam or Thor or Tony or Elizabeth or Penny or Natasha. 

Sharon started to stir then and he prepared for this conversation. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do. Killing her wasn't really his style. Killing period wasn't his style unless he was out in the field. He'd send her to the raft. Give her a life sentence, no plea deal. But right now, he just wanted answers. 

"Steve?" Sharon whispered, eyes fluttering open. She winced as the pain in her head hit her and she raised a hand to it, touching the bump gingerly. She looked around slowly, taking in the mountain scenery and she smiled a little. "Hey Steve." 

Steve didn't answer. He waited until she was completely awake and she asked, "What are we doing in here?" 

"Why?" Steve asked. "Why Sharon?" 

"Why what?" Sharon asked, frowning. She was so good at this, lying. Pretending. Steve wondered just how long she had been doing it. 

"You've been the spy all along. Don't tell me it was all because of me Sharon. Don't tell me that you were going to give two innocent girls to Lucinda because you wanted me." 

"Innocent." Sharon snorted. 

"Rue at the very least." Steve snapped. "Rue is my daughter too, Sharon!" 

"Steve, you have no idea how much I love you." Sharon whispered, shaking her head like this was all silly. "Or the things I'd do for you." She raised a hand to touch his face and he grabbed it, holding it in a tight grip. 

"Last chance Sharon. Why did you do it?" 

Sharon huffed. "Because getting Elizabeth and Penny out of the way meant that I had a clear shot with you." 

"No, it didn't. I just would've gone and gotten them back." 

"Not if they didn't remember you or if they were dead." Sharon shrugged. "Lucinda might've needed Elizabeth but Penny was just a spare." 

Steve wanted to strangle her all of a sudden. 

"I don't even get it." Sharon sighed. "Elizabeth's not even that great. She just whores it around with all of you guys, but I have character at least. Steve, please, we can be happy again." 

"I am happy." Steve growled. "You're facing the rest of your life in the raft, Sharon. I'm really worth that to you?" 

"Steve," Sharon smiled. "I will do anything for you. I have done everything for you." 

"This isn't love, Sharon." Steve murmured, "This is obsession and it's become unhealthy. . . clearly it's been unhealthy for a long time." 

"Let's leave together." Sharon murmured, "No one has to know. Please Steve, come with me. Peggy would've-" 

"Don't use her." Steve snapped. "She wouldn't have wanted this. Not for you and definitely not for me. You've disgraced her, Sharon." 

"You know, something Stevie?" Sharon said, trying to touch him. He tightened his grip on her wrist. "We could leave. Together. You and me. Be a family. Have kids. You won't have to worry about Sam or Penny cause they'll be dead. You won't have to worry about Bucky because he'll be a Winter-" 

"Stop." Steve sighed, suddenly weary. "Just stop. Nothing you say changes anything I feel. I just want to know. . . do you regret it, Sharon? Now that you know you never got what you wanted, do you regret it? Regret being the spy? Regret hurting my girl? Cause Elizabeth is my girl, and you hurt her." 

"Oh Stevie." Sharon sighed, looking at him with a maniac look in her eyes. "I never wanted to hurt Elizabeth." Steve was only just starting to feel a little better when Sharon leaned forwards and hissed, "I wanted to kill her." 

Steve heard a sharp whistling noise fly through the air. He had sensed Bucky, Sam, and Elizabeth in the back of the room, up on the catwalk. It sounded like Bucky had thrown Steve's shield, which would kill Sharon. 

Sharons' eyes widened a little, but she switched them to stare in Steve's blue ones. Steve knew he had to make a choice. He could let the shield continue and say he wasn't fast enough to stop it. He knew he wouldn't be questioned, even if everyone knew he could've. Or, he could stop this. He could catch the shield and put her behind bars. 

Elizabeth's gorgeous face popped into his mind and his hand shot out, catching the shield before it hit Sharon. Rue's face came into his mind next. Then Buckys' and Sams' and Pennys'. All of these people that he loved and that Sharon hurt. 

Lan. Mai. Josh. Ahni. They were dead because of Sharon. 

Riri. A once innocent girl who had fallen into Sharons' trap and was now facing life in prison because Sharon had turned her too. 

Sharons' face became relieved as she saw the shield in Steves' hand. "I knew you still loved me." 

"No." Steve said, raising the shield and placing the edge of it against her neck. He looked at her. He saw nothing. "I just wanted to do it myself." 

And he shoved the shield forwards. 

[beautifulbookishdisaster]

The trouble with lies was that they were too easy to believe. Even if you were the one telling them. Perhaps especially if you were the one telling them.

Sarah McLean, A Rogue by Any Other Name