#spencer reid foic

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Public Enemy: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Summary: Someone is terrorizing the public by taking their comfort away from them. You're trying to heal from being in prison, and Spencer helps as much as he can.

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.

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"Show me a hero, and I will write you a tragedy." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Tick, tick, tick goes the clock again. All you want to do is throw something at the damn thing.

"I tried. I tried so hard to think about the dream I rewrote. I tried to keep it in my head but it didn't work," you sigh sadly.

"Which dream did you rewrite?" Melissa asks and crosses her legs.

"My boyfriend was kidnapped a few years ago. I was with him and we went to talk to a witness who turned out to be the killer. We split up and he got kidnapped. He was tortured and got addicted to Dilaudid because of it. I rewrote it to make it so we never split up."

"Why did you choose that nightmare to rewrite?"

"It was the less traumatic of them all, I guess."

"Keep it up. I think you're doing a great job. It might not seem like it but you are."

"Thanks," you whisper.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" You open your mouth but nothing comes out. "It's okay, Y/N. This is a safe space. You can talk about anything you want."

"I just..." You look down and pick the lint off your clothes. "I fear I'll never be a good FBI agent again. I fear I'll never be as I was before." You lean forward and rest your elbows on your knees with your head in your hands. "God, I wish I could just go back to before I went to prison."

"What happened last time to make you realize you're much more than this gift of yours?"

You sit up and go back to picking at the lint on your clothes.

"I see death every single day. Yesterday, I went grocery shopping and I saw a dead woman in the cereal aisle. They never leave me alone," you whisper painfully. "One day, I saw a woman get mugged by a man a lot bigger than her. He knifed her, took her purse, and ran away, leaving her to bleed out. It had already happened so I couldn't do anything about it. I saw their energies to help paint a picture of the event. All I could do was stand there and watch it happen. I decided at that moment I wanted to stick up for people who couldn't do it for themselves. I needed to stop letting others' fear control me. I told myself enough is enough. I applied for the police academy that afternoon."

"What makes this different than that?" You look at Melissa with tears in your eyes. "Why do you think you can't tell yourself enough is enough?"

You take five minutes to think of an answer.

"Maybe I've been around death for too long. It knows what to expect from me," you sigh.

"If I had to guess, I think it's because you're afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Making mistakes. Of letting your friends and family down." You look away from her and let two tears fall down your cheeks. "Of you."

"Yeah, maybe," you shrug.

"Looks like we'll have to pick this up next time. Are you going to be okay?"

"I don't know. Thanks for listening to me."

"Thanks for letting me."

You leave therapy and stand outside the office building for a moment. You let the sun wash over your skin, warming it. Every time you leave therapy, you don't know if you're going to be better. It does help to talk to someone about this but you're not sure if you'll ever be the same as you once were. Your phone rings and you answer it when you see your boyfriend's name.

"Hey, Spence."

"Hey, are you done?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way."

"I love you."

It doesn't matter how much he says it to you, your heart will always flutter.

"I love you. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

You decide to walk to work since it's not far from your therapist's office. The local park isn't crowded with kids yet since it's still early so you enjoy the solitude for as long as you have it. You cut through the park instead of going around it, and you come across a thick blanket of trees in one section of the park. Two people are inside the cluster of trees, struggling. You walk closer and see a man robbing a younger and smaller woman. She has her mouth wide open and screams for help but no noise comes out of her mouth.

This isn't real. This isn't happening in real-time. The man yanks the purse from the woman and ends up stabbing her. She falls to the ground and he runs further into the treeline until he disappears.

Enough is... oh, forget it.

You turn and walk to the BAU with your head down the entire way. Everyone is in the briefing room and you quickly take your seat so JJ can begin.

"This is Captain Paul Collins." She puts his picture on the screen. "He's the third victim in two weeks in Providence, Rhode Island. He just returned home two weeks ago from his fourth tour in Iraq. He's a decorated war hero."

"Was he targeted because he's in the military?" Derek asks.

"No. Just like the first two victims, he was targeted because he was convenient. He was killed at a church during an early service. His neck was cut open and severed at the carotid artery. He bled out in a matter of moments. It happened right in front of his daughter and wife."

"Murder in a church is highly symbolic. Is there a religious agenda involved?" Emily asks.

"The detective on the case, Jake Moreland, ruled that out because of the first two victims. The first victim, Mike O'Donnell, was found under a sink in the men's room at a restaurant."

"What kind of restaurant?"

"It's a local place with white tablecloths and jug wine. The second victim, Karen Lagrassa, was killed at the laundromat. All three had their throats slashed."

"Aside from the MO, the victimology's all over the place. It's like this guy doesn't care who he's kidding, just how. He's doing it in public without compunction for who sees him."

"Do we have a sketch?" Hotch asks.

"All anyone can agree on is that it's a white male between twenty-five and forty."

"Well, that narrows it down to all of Providence," Emily scoffs.

"It's hard to fault the witnesses given how bloody these murders were."

"What bothers me is the cooling off period is getting shorter and shorter, but there are no attempts to hide who he is or what he's doing. I mean, an unsub this bold could be suffering from a major psychotic break."

"I already asked Detective Moreland to pull recent releases on prisons and mental hospitals," JJ says.

"We need to get to Providence ASAP. Whether he's suffering a psychotic break or not, this could be the start of a spree, and anyone is a potential target."

After thirty minutes of gathering what you need, you meet the team at the jet. As soon as the last person is on, the jet takes off toward Rhode Island. You're seated next to Spencer at the table, and he has his left hand resting on your thigh. It doesn't matter how he touches you, his touch makes you feel safe and grounded. It's the only thing keeping you from melting in a puddle of your own tears.

"Why is he using a knife? A gun assures the highest number of fatalities. If all he's interested in is quantity, he could be doing this more efficiently," Emily says.

"He could be training. Spree killers often do dry runs before they start their rampage."

"Most spree killers have lost control by the time they begin. They're always male. If they don't fall into the school shooter category, they're older like forties and fifties, and socially isolated. The stressor is usually the dissolution of their last social outlet."

"George Hennard was inspired by James Huberty. Between the two of them, they shot forty-three people at fast food restaurants," Spencer explains.

"Well, if he's practicing for his mass murder, he's definitely getting bolder and bloodier about it. Right now, the shock and awe of the bloodletting seems to be what he's going for. Soon, that won't be enough."

"Without a specific target victim, we need to concentrate on the crime scenes and see what they tell us. Prentiss, you take the laundromat. I'll have Detective Moreland meet you there."

"I'd like to take a look at the church If you don't mind," Rossi says. "I'd like to take Y/N with me."

"Good. JJ, you and Morgan interview Captain Collins' wife. She got the best look at the unsub. See what she remembers. Reid and I will run point from the police station."

When the plane lands, you and Rossi head to the church where the unsub striked for the third time. Father Kendellen is waiting for you two on the steps outside the church.

"Agent Rossi? Agent Y/N?"

"Yes. You must be Father Kendellen."

"Thank you for coming so quickly."

"It's the least we can do, Father."

"To be honest, I've been struggling to understand all this. It's been trying," Father Kendellen sighs.

"I don't like to see crime tape In front of church doors. I can't imagine how you feel."

"Ash Wednesday is next week. These doors should never be closed to the community."

You look around the area and think where the unsub might strike next. He's already hit a restaurant bathroom, a laundromat, and a church. He's chosen his victims not out of preference but out of favorable circumstances. With each kill, he's growing bolder. He doesn't care who sees him. Next time he strikes, it'll be more public than a church. Hotch no doubt has Penelope working on finding public places that might be his next target.

You and Rossi follow Father Kendellen inside the church and your eyes immediately go to the pew that the unsub killed the military captain in. The wave of energy washes over you, bringing you back to last night. The entire church is filled with people attending the service. Paul and his family are sitting in the way back from having been late to the service. The double doors open behind them and the unsub walks in. He gets a few stares from curious onlookers but they turn back around and continue with the service. The unsub sits down behind Paul and his family, and you pause the scene to approach the unsub.

He's just a black shadow that you hope will show distinctive features you can use to catch him. However, even when you're sitting next to him, he continues to be a black shape. You focus as hard as you can to see something more but you lose confidence in yourself easily. You rest your elbows on your knees and put your head in both hands. This is too difficult. I can't do it. Someone puts a hand on your shoulder and you snap your head up to see you're back in the present with Rossi sitting next to you.

"Don't stress yourself too much."

"Rossi, this used to come so naturally to me. It was easy before. Now it's..."

"When something traumatic happens to someone, the mind is the last thing to heal. Your physical wounds are gone but you need to give your mind some time to heal the emotional ones. You're a good FBI agent even without your abilities. Don't let it get you down. Be patient."

"You're right," you sigh.

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