A/N Hi everyone. This is my first Criminal Minds story. I have been a huge fan of the show for years, but inspiration had just never struck. When I watched Safe Haven; S06EP5, this idea just kind of came to me. I seriously think that was my favorite episode of Criminal Minds ever – I really liked Jeremy. So, I really wanted to write a fic about him.
SPOILERS BELOW:
This takes place after Jeremy is arrested and sent to Juvenile Hall. So sad :(
I hope you enjoy this one-shot, and please remember to review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.
Wearing a bright orange jumpsuit that strongly clashed with his bright blue eyes, Jeremy leaned against the steel bars, grinning. He chuckled, amused at how the entire situation had played out. Thirteen years old and already in jail. Well, Juvenile Hall, but that was close enough.
Jeremy would be in there for five years. Only five. He could pass the time easily. Then, he would be released on some flimsy parole he would easily break. After spending five years under intense supervision, once he was free, he was completely free, regardless of what the authorities said. No parole officer could stop him from being free. If they tried, they'd be marking their own grave.
The truth was, Jeremy didn't care very much if he was caught or not. As long as he got his kill, as long as he sadistically brutalized his victim, he was accomplished. He had fulfilled his own needs. He had won the game.
He played games and killed for the fun of it. He did it for the adrenaline that coursed through his veins every time his victim moaned in pain. He did it for the sight of human flesh falling off the bone it was so strongly attached to; falling as if it was a piece of lint quickly picked off a sweater. He did it for the blood and the hypnotic way it would just flood past the already-bruised surface of the victim's skin. He did it got the thrill of knowing he was doing something wrong and could be caught at any moment. But, he knew if he was careful enough, he'd never get caught.
He only got caught because of that one prying mother. The stupid bitch who insisted on calling his 'mother'. Not his real mother, who never actually cared about him, but she wanted to talk to the mother he had made up. The one who was concerned for his wellbeing and safety. It was the mother he had built up, the mother he had, deep down, always wished he really had.
He wasn't exactly sure how the FBI had found him, but he assumed it had something to do with that phone call to his 'mommy'. He grinned wryly, realizing that he was actually being noticed by the FBI. The fact that he had gone so far as to bring the fucking Federal Bureau of Investigations into his life made his lips spread wider and expose his teeth. The smile was anything but sincere, though. It was a menacing, snarling, evil smile that would scare off even the bravest of men. If he ever came into contact with that one FBI agent who threatened to shoot him again, Jeremy would be ready. Next time, he swore to himself, he wouldn't give up so easily.
He knew he would get the chance to show his strength even stronger than he had before. Especially to the FBI. He would confuse them so thoroughly once again, killing all sorts of different age groups, religions, backgrounds, genders that the FBI would think it was a non-united gang committing all these crimes. But, the entire time, it would just be Jeremy, tricking the whole world into believing his lies and covers. Each and every one of his victims would believe that he was only some poor innocent boy who couldn't find his mommy just like before. And once he had laid the trap, and his victim had fallen in love with him and started to care about him, he would snap their neck. Of course, in a slower, more painful way.
Jeremy could wait out the five years, but every moment until his time was up, he'd be itching to get back to the outside world.
As Jeremy walked towards the stiff, dirty bed, he tried to figure out what about killing he liked the most. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine past events that could've landed him where he was today.
And then it clicked. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He had been asking his victims to say it all along, so why hadn't he realized that it was those words that made killing such a large draw to him? Jeremy loved having people hate him. He always told the victims to tell him how much they didn't like him, even more extreme than dislike, even more intense than hate. And none of them had had the balls to say it. They all tried to play it nice, like he was a good boy underneath all the hate and he just needed some work. It was when they wouldn't admit the truth he killed them. In all honesty, he probably would've let them go if they could've said it. But they didn't, and now they were dead. Clearly, Jeremy was not at fault here. They were the ones that lied to protect themselves and their families. They were the ones at fault for their own deaths. Parents always told their kids to tell the truth, and when they couldn't even abide their own laws, well, that was the time for them to go.
"Confess and be forgiven."
The only one who had the guts to say they hated him was his god damn mother. That's who he wanted to hear the sweet words coming from the most. The story about his devoured twin, the neighbor's dog he had experimented on, his sister's broken arm and everything in between. There was so much hate piled up, it all came out at once. Just how Jeremy had planned.
Lying on the dirty old bed, Jeremy grinned, intertwining his hands and placing them behind his head. He closed his eyes and remembered all the good times he had had with all of those families. He had graphic enough memories to last him the whole five years, so why be in any hurry to get to the outside? At least now he had something to look forward to.
And when the day came where he would be placed on parole, he would be ready. He would be ready to deceive any judge, police officer, FBI agent, or even any stranger. He had five years to create facades and lies. They would be so damn convincing that even he would fall for his made-up little world. Soon enough, he'd be back in his prime, living his life the way he knew he was supposed to, because if he was wrong, why did killing always feel so right?
Yes, Jeremy was a thirteen year old experienced well beyond his years. He had a plan, and this time, he knew that nobody could stop him.
