Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. Criminal Minds along with the main characters (Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Dr. Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Dr. Alex Blake) along with their families/friends/partners/co-workers and any other characters who do appear on the show but are not the main cast are owned by The Mark Gordon Company, Jeff Davis and CBS Television Studios
Some other characters are created by me. Like the main OC and her family/friends/co-workers. So I'm claiming ownership on them.
And the rest of the unimportant character like detectives, unsubs, victims, police officers appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1 (prologue)
When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us. ~Helen Keller
It was one of those nice Sunday afternoons. The Sun was up high in the sky hidden behind a pack of light clouds; sound from the usually busy street came now only as a dim hum; and the wind could hardly ever lift a single yellow leaf from the ground.
The perfect start of a November. Dry streets, colorful trees, children playing in the leaves on the ground.
Perfect relax time for many people. The perfect time for some book reading for the triple PhDs genius Dr. Spencer Reid. He welcomed the time off with open arms. The last few weeks were mind-blowing. A set of explosions all over Idaho and Montana mobilized the best minds of The States and even so it took way too much time and too many victims until the right Unsubs were caught. No matter how much the media and police declared it was all over. The streets would never be safe again, and the despair and sorrow would linger not only in the minds of families and friends of the hundreds of victims, but also in the minds of all people who worked on the case.
That was the reason why the young genius spent his weekend with nothing but books. He already finished John Fowles and Geoffrey Chaucer yesterday and David Hansberry this morning. Now it was time to brush up the pages of 'The Narrative of John Smith'. His long fingers stroked the pages as his eyes breathed in the words of art. Arthur Conan Doyle was one of his favorite writers and the book was a source of sweet, yet also bitter memories. Despite the cool touch of the simple cover against his hands, the warm feeling in his chest remained.
His mind was stuck in the old novel for a while when his enthrallment was cut short by violent banging on his door. He frowned at the interruption. No one ever visits him on weekends. He had rarely any visitors on weekdays; once or twice a colleague picking him up for work. Never a social call. Not that the genius in his early thirties was socially incompetent; but his home was his own oasis of peace and rest. Untouched by big parties or intimate dinners. And he liked it that way. The increased noise behind the door forced Reid to finally mark a page and put down his book.
"You little piece of shit! I know you're there! Open the fucking door!"
Reid nearly tripped over the coffee table at the screech. He heard something fell from it but it was not in his interest to give it a first priority.
"You can't hide from ME. I won't let you hide away from this! I swear to God I will castrate you. Open the fucking door!"
There was a well placed kick that left the door trembling much like the young genius. He shifted awkwardly on his spot and hesitantly approached the entry door until he could see through the peephole.
"You faggot, just who do you think you are? I'll tell you what. You are the lowest piece of shit in this universe. You're a retarded asshole. You're motherfucker. You…"
The door opened and the assaulter stuck a deep breath. "'ree… not the one I was expecting…"
"I hope so," replied Reid slowly and looked at the person standing in front of him.
It was a girl. A young woman maybe a head shorter than him. Some strands of her chestnut hair that didn't quite fit into the messy bun pranced around her startled face. Her wide confused eyes were of hazel color and she was dressed in simple pair of jeans and dark gray hoodie. He could tell, from how she rubbed her thumb against the index finger that was so accusingly pointed at him just a moment ago, that she had no idea how to react to this new situation.
"Uhm. Did you… perhaps… moved in? Recently?" she asked with a half whisper looking behind Reid's left shoulder.
Reid followed gaze to the short hallway and to the dimly lighted living room. He shook his head and bit into his lower lip. "I do live here for quite a while now," he replied.
The young woman in front of him pursed her lips and shifted on her spot. "Well,… this is really… embarrassing," she mumbled and brushed her hair away from her eyes. "Do you, by any chance, know someone… named Andrew?" she asked trying to avoid eye contact with the stranger in front of her.
She actually latched her eyes on the brown buttons of his knit sweater.
And Reid saw her actions. Even the little twitch of her lips and nose. "I think there lives some Andrew in the apartment above mine," he replied thoughtfully.
The girl looked at him quickly and snapped her fingers. "Dammit, wrong floor again!"
Reid raised his eyebrows in surprise. Was mixing floors a frequent occurrence for her? He hoped this was hers last visit here.
"Do you think he heard…? The… yell?" she asked again quietly but this time she was also looking at him.
"Any other person would probably say that the 'yell' couldn't be unheard in one mile radius, but actually this is very old building with thick walls and ceilings so there is a high probability that no one from the floor above or below this one heard it," Reid answered as best as he could. Although it might have been better if he simply said 'no' and thus omitting the puzzled expression on the girl's face and the itch in his thumb that seemed to appear only when he wanted to rewind back the time to say something different.
"Yeah, ok, great. Thank you. And, uhm… sorry. Look, I'm really, really sorry about that. I didn't wanted to cause any trouble and there are no words that could help me express my deep regret. So uh, I'm going to move awkwardly that way, and hope that one day you are going to remember this only as a funny story," she said and clumsily pointed to the stairs leading to the upper floor.
True to her words Reid saw her walk away like she was in a great pain and before she turned her back to him he could also spot a remarkable grimace on her face.
He waited a bit until she reached the stairway before calling out to her. "Do you want me to call an ambulance for the Andrew guy?"
She halted and placed an angry frown on her face "I don't think he will want to be seen by anybody when I'm done with him."
"Do you know that violence is not the answer?" he advised her already feeling sorry for the guy that pissed her off.
The girl took three steps up and the frown melted into mischievous grin. "You know what they say. Violence is not the answer, it's a question. And the answer is 'Yes'." And with that her figure disappeared from Reid's sight.
For all the 20,000 words per minute he could read and his eidetic memory, the doctor did not come across that one. Nor did he come across any statistics that would support the saying. But none of that did stop him from crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. He felt kind of like an old lady who had days and nights nothing better to do then to monitor and stalk her neighbors. But Reid was not monitoring, he just wanted to make sure that no one will end up in a state that called for the medics. It was his responsibility to help the other people. Although, now that he was thinking about it, his responsibility was also preventing people getting into conflicts…
Well, too late.
He heard a faint knock on the door above his own apartment. He would have missed it had he not his ears wide opened. Silence fell upon the building for eleven seconds before Reid stopped breathing at the sound of keys unlocking the doors. There was no talk, no curses, no accusation. Just a sound of quick impact and one long inhuman piercing male scream. It resonated through the hall of the whole building. And Reid was sure that that yell couldn't be repressed by any thick wall and ceiling.
That yell made even him freeze on his spot. He heard the stairs creak under soft pressure but the young doctor could not move away no matter how much he forced his brain to command to his limbs to freaking move.
When the girl, few steps away from the ground, spotted the unwanted audience they both looked very much like deer caught in the headlights. It took a few seconds for them to move. First was the girl, for the whining of the man in the upper floor woke her up. She shifted her gaze on the floor and pursed her lips. With a few awkward steps she quickly passed by Reid without looking at him.
And the young genius was so flabbergasted that he watched her the whole time without blinking until she disappeared from his sight.
The next time Dr. Spencer Reid opened his door was in the early morning of the next day to check his mailbox. His eyes immediately caught a white package in front of his Chuck Taylor shoes. There were no signs or label. Just a clean box with and a small note tucked in the top right corner.
Reid carefully picked up the box and looked closer at the note. 'I'm sorry for the psychopathic assault on you yesterday.' he read the pretty cursive. He forgot all about the mail. He shut the door and put the box down on his coffee table. The boy was very careful to open it. His fingers twitched a bit when he played with the knot of the green twine, but when he finally managed to untie it and open the box his eyebrows shot up to the skies. There, in all its glory, was a cake with rich chocolate icing and smarties decoration.
SSA Derek Morgan immediately knew something was wrong.
It was Monday morning and the sky was clear from any clouds. Many agents around looked annoyed and not half so ready to start yet another week. And yet, the young agent next to him did not look all that bothered. First of all he was about five minutes late to the BAU, and had yet to mention the reason why. And then he disrupted all his morning customs.
Morgan watched him for years to pass hurriedly through the entry glass door to walk straightforward to his table and then make a beeline for the coffee counter.
And now…
Now his walk looked like cheerful stroll of woman in shopping centre. With his head held high he nodded in greeting at everyone that looked at him. He placed his bag carefully on his table and only after he unpacked all the necessary things he would need he turned around to head over to the coffee counter. And again with a stroll of a person with all the time in the world.
Had Morgan this attitude it would be because he got lucky in the night.
But it was only after the young doctor greeted him at the counter and put less sugar than coffee in the mug when the dark skinned agent realized how serious it was.
"So, what's up, kid?" he started lightly.
"Hm?" Reid quickly glanced at him to express his attention before he looked back at his mug to pour a hot water in it.
"Did you run out of sugar?"
"I do have sugar."
"Yeah. But it's less than your usual quarter of cup. Did you finally get scared of getting diabetes?"
The youngest member of the team didn't seem to catch the sarcasm of his muscular friend. "There are three main types of diabetes mellitus, although many people believe there are only two. The first one is characterized by loss of the insulin-producing beta cells of the islets of Langerhans in pancreas leading to insulin deficiency. There is no prevention against this type and majority of the cases developed in children. The second type has high blood glucose and relative insulin deficiency. Obesity, lack of physical activity and genetics are the primary causes for this type. It also occurs more in female population and older people. The third one, gestational diabetes mellitus, occurs only with pregnant women in 2% - 5% of all pregnancies. It is treatable but about 20% - 50% of all affected women will develop the second diabetes type sometime later in their lives. I'm pretty sure I do not fit into any of these criteria."*
Yeah. That was more like the Reid they all knew and hated.
"You are free to believe that. So as I said, what's up?"
Reid shrugged. "Nothing I would know of."
"And what's with that face?"
"What face?"
"The 'I'm having a good day'face" explained Morgan and tried to imitate Reid's face; although the expression looked more like something Garcia would look like when she talks dirty on the phone.
"Maybe I have a good day," replied Reid and took a sip of his coffee.
"You never have a good day on Monday morning. And you never have good day at any day before at least two cups of coffee that consist of 60% of sugar," insisted Morgan and speed of after Reid who left after he heard the first part of the sentence.
"Curiosity killed the cat, Morgan."
"Thank God the cat has nine lives."
"Well, actually…"
"Leave it for later, wonder boy. We got a case," cut him off Garcia and hurried to the conference room with a stack of papers under her right arm.
The rest of the team was quick to follow and after the mention of Cincinnati and five head-less bodies the fate of the cat was promptly forgotten.
*Wikipedia