❝Suspicion haunts the guilty mind.❞
- William Shakespare

Dr. Spencer Reid looked down at the open file that lay before him, his mind racing with endless possibilities as to what this criminal might be attempting to achieve. He rubbed the back of his knuckles against his chin, a habit that had originated when he was a young boy, deep in thought. He almost didn't notice the engine of the black SUV he was riding in turn off after it had pulled over to the side of the road, the colleagues he'd been driving with spilling out of the car.

He sighed and picked up the file, shoving it into his shoulder bag, and followed the rest of his team into the local police department, lost in thought. Immediately, he made his way over to a conference table, ignoring introductions, once again pulling the case file out of his bag and spreading it's contents around the table in front of him.

Behind him, he could hear the other agents speaking with the local detective. He bit his lip, trying unsuccessfully to block out the introductions that he'd heard multiple times before.

"Detective Haywood? I'm Jennifer Jareau, we spoke on the phone."

'Insert handshake,' Spencer thought.

"These are Agents Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, Hotchner, and Dr Reid is over at the table starting to sort through the case files."

He could feel eyes on him so sent a wave over his shoulder as a greeting.

Haywood's reply was inaudible, but Spencer knew his reply would be something along the lines of: "Thanks for coming. This case has really started to stump us, so it's great to have fresh eyes to look over it. We've set up a work space in the corner with all the equipment you require, which your comrade seems to have already discovered. Please, feel free to give me a shout if you need anything else."

Spencer sighed, picking up the file and re-reading it slowly. Despite the fact that he had an eidetic memory and could read 20,000 words per minute, he wanted to make sure that he hadn't missed any important information that was hidden between the lines of the printed text. He payed close attention to the patent facts of the case.

Eight murders throughout the past two years, all killed in Quantico, Virginia at around ten pm. They were targeted on their way back to their cars; their throats had been slit from behind, followed by additional cuts to their wrists and three stabs to their heart post-mortem. It seemed almost Jack the Ripper style, excluding the fact that none of the victims were prostitutes and all had subsidiary lacerates. The victims didn't have much in common, which was troubling for serial killings of this scale. There didn't seem to be any clear motives either. So what was this unsub trying to prove?

Spencer was engrossed in his thoughts, unable to recognise that his colleagues had joined him and were staring intently at him, some wearing amused expressions as they watched the youngest member of their team work that enigmatic brain of his.

After a while, done with the silence, one of them spoke up. "Reid?" Rossi pushed. "Have you found anything?"

Spencer looked up, almost surprised by the fact that he now had an audience, and cleared his throat. "Uh," he started, rummaging clumsily through the file. "Well, this particular unsub only seems to target people within the Quantico area, suggesting that he could possibly be involved in military affairs since Quantico's the site of one of the largest military corps bases in the world, as well as the site of the DEA, NCIS, HMX-1—"

"Yeah, Reid," Morgan interjected, chuckling to himself. "We know. We live here, remember?"

Spencer nodded and bit his lip, mentally slapping himself for rambling on about the obvious. "Um, also," he continued, evidently less confident than before, "the unsub targets his victim's throats, yet continues to harm them by stabbing them after they're already dead".

"So, you're saying it's a personal killing." Prentiss confirmed.

Spencer nodded.

"There's something else," Rossi added. "All these victims were killed on their way back to their cars."

"Yeah, but how's that important?" Jennifer, "JJ", asked.

"Ah," Rossi said, holding a finger up. "You didn't let me finish. The cars aren't the important part; where the victims were coming from is. You see, every single one of the people murdered were heading to their cars from some sort of medical facility. For example, victim one had visited a psychiatrist, victim two a GP, victim three a hospital, et cetera."

"So our unsub has something against doctors" Morgan said bluntly.

"Not necessarily" Spencer spoke up. "The unsub's MO could be anything. Maybe he's a doctor who gets riled up when patients refuse his treatment, inevitably going to another business, and kills out of aggravation." He looked around at the concerned faces glaring down at him. "Which probably isn't the case… it was just a speculation."

"Anyway," Prentiss coughed, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen upon the team. "What about the victimology? Do the victims have anything in common besides exiting medical facilities prior to their deaths?"

"Nothing we can tell from the files" Hotch sighed, grabbing his phone out of his suit pocket. "I'll call Garcia, see if she can come up with anything."

The Agents nodded, returning their attention to the files.

"I'll, uh," Spencer started, managing to trip over a chair as he began to back away from the table, "go and make a geographical profile to see if there's any pattern in hospitals the unsub is targeting."

The others nodded, watching him leave the room, all sharing the same thought.

"Is it just me or is Reid particularly awkward today?" Prentiss whispered to Morgan.

"Yeah, if that's even possible."

The two watch as Reid abruptly stopped what he was doing and glared at them.

JJ laughed. "Yeah, he totally heard you."

Morgan rolled his eyes, returning his gaze to the documents before him, continuing to occasionally glance up at his younger friend. He had to admit it, Reid had been acting strange over the past couple of weeks. More distant, more quiet, more disturbed…

What the hell was troubling him?