A/N: I don't owe any of the Criminal Minds characters or Foster the people's song "Pumped up kicks". I am not making any money from writing this.

Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.

This is Criminal Minds song-fic based on Foster the people's song "Pumped up kicks". It occurs during season five episode eight "Outfoxed". You need to listen the song and watch the episode in order to understand this fic.

Character in my story was in that episode. This isn't fanfiction against the rules, it is not original fiction. Just to clear this up.

I hope you will enjoy reading this story. Love from Mislav :)

Robert's got a quick hand

He'll look around the room he won't tell you his plan

Night was warm but cold shivers were running through Miranda's body, followed by cold sweat rolling down her skin. Her hands were shaking, her throat was dry, her heart was beating faster than ever. She looked around, trying to be as silent as possible, once again making sure that nobody is around, stepping into yard of family house, walking toward back doors. She pressed her hand against cold metal of a door knob, took a deep breath and pressed it. Unlocked. Perfect. She sighed in relief, silently opened the door and walked in the Downey's family house, silently closing the doors behind.

Yeah! He found a six shooter gun

In hus dad's closet hidden with the box of fun things

She pulled the gun out of right pocket of her pants and looked at it. She had that gun for eight years now, since she found it in box belonging to her foster father when she was going through his things with her foster mother, shortly after he passed away. Her mother went to use a bathroom and she accidently found it, on the bottom of that old yellow wooden box. She shivered when she saw it, when she touched it. She didn't know why, but she hid it in drawer in her room before her mother returned. She shivers even today, when she remembers how many lives she ruined using that gun, how horrible but also unspeakably easy and releving it was.

And that night wasn't an exception.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run better run outrun my gun

She let a boy ago. She didn't know why. Maybe she wanted his mother to think she will spare him (just as she asked her to) before she kills her? But she couldn't think about that. All that horrifying images kept poping up in her mind-no matter what it took.

She shoot the mother. Her hands were surprisingly calm at that moment. She smelled the gunpowder, feeling shivers going down her throat, and felt explosion of gunpowder warming her right fist. Blood splattered her clothes, and she cluld feel it's warmth spreading through fabric, pressing against her pale, shivering skin. Sight of blood and flesh supressed those images a little, but it still wasn't enough.

She went looking for the boy.

Maybe she even hoped he managed to escape, but she knew that wasn't a case.

She was moving around the room slowly, carefully, like real, experienced predator, listening to every sound, no matter how silent. She heard breathing inside the closet in living room. Heavy breathing, breathing of child-a boy-who is scared, no, terrified. She could feel warmth of his breath, smell of his sweat, she could almost smell his fear. That smell, that feeling sent shivers down her spine and she grabbed her gun faster, feeling cold metal against her skin and smell of gunpowder.

She walked toward the closet, slowly, silently, then opened closet doors and found him there, sitting on the floor. He gasped anwidenesd his eyes when he realized that she found him.

She stood there motionlessly for few seconds, breathing heavily, looking at him. He looked at her and she could swear she could see a sparkle of hope in his eyes.

But it faded away when she raised her gun, pointing it at his head.

And she pulled the trigger.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run better run faster than my bullet!