"All that we are is the result of what we have thought. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him."
Buddha
December.
Monday.
Four days later.
08.01
He was pacing. He paced a lot. Especially lately. But now, he was pacing even more. From left to right. Up and down. Left. Up. Down. Right. Up. Left. Down. Up. Right. Left. Right. Down. Left. Up. She wondered if he had set his carpet on fire yet. Morgan stood outside Hotch' office, talking to a red head from administration. His right arm was carefully tucked away in a blue sling, one that hugged his torso. Yet Abby made sure her eyes never wondered down the lines of his muscles. Down the line of his back, lingering around his perfectly formed ass. Down the lines of his face when he smiled at miss Administration. No. Her eyes followed the grim exterior of a man she respected, but now seemed occupied and wondering as he paced around in his room.
"Morning." Reid gently dropped his brown leather shoulder bag on his desk and greeted Prentiss and Abby.
"Morning Reid." Prentiss replied friendly, stationed behind her desk, going through a small amount of paperwork. "How was your weekend?"
The young doctor only shrugged. "It was okay." His eyes never left Abby's face and her sitting position behind her desk, her chair rotated towards the upper level.
"Oh, don't mind her. She's been like that for at least fifteen minutes. She's convinced something's going on." Prentiss commented when she noticed Reid's worried expression when looking at his colleague.
"He's pacing." Abby mumbled, her left index finger brushing past her lips.
Reid turned to watch Hotch' office as well and he frowned. "He is pacing."
"Not you too." Prentiss groaned.
"He was on the phone for a pretty long time too." Abby said absentminded.
Both observing agents noted that their supervisor had turned towards the door and opened it. As quickly as possible, they returned to their duties, keeping an eye on Hotch from the corner of their eyes. Because of that they could see that Morgan addressed Hotch, but he wasn't expecting it. They talked, shortly, and then Hotch' eyes went over the bullpen in the unit.
"Scott! My office." Before she could react, Hotch had pivoted on his feet and re-entered his castle. With narrowed brows, Abby looked at Reid before heading into the direction of the boss' office. She knocked on the door before entering – ignoring Morgan and his confused looks - and shuffled towards the chair. "It's way too early; I couldn't have done anything yet."
With one glare, Hotch shut her up. "Atlanta called."
A hand called 'fear' got a hold of her heart and squeezed tight. She sat down. "They did?" Pause. "Uhm.. About what?"
"They need our assistance. SCU is wrapped up in a case and they need us with a series of murders."
"Okay…"
"We'll be working with your old boss, David McCallister."
"Mac's a good guy."
"We'll be using their department, their offices."
"Okay."
"We're even bringing Garcia along." Hotch pushed.
"Okay."
"You sure you're okay with it?"
Abby frowned. "Ya, why wouldn't I be?"
"Last thing we need is you trying to even a score. Or to prove yourself." He replied. He kept looking at her, staring her down, his deep brown eyes trying to penetrate her thoughts.
"I could give you a tour through the neighbourhood." She joked.
"I'd rather have it that you sit this one out."
"Then keep me here." She retorted. He was playing a game and hoped she would bite, but she didn't and she was done playing games.
"Conference in five."
"Aye aye chief." Abby exited the room and jogged down the stairs. Reid's eager eyes locked on her somewhat pretty face and kept waiting till she would talk. Instead, Abby tried to ignore him for as long as she could and grabbed a notebook and pen.
"Well?! What was it all about?" The young genius finally asked.
"Embrace yourself Smartie, you're about to step into my world." She said, grinning widely and she was close to doing a happy-dance. Luckily, she was able to restrain herself.
Five minutes later, Morgan walked into the conference room. Prentiss, Reid and Abby had already taken a front row seat. Hotch was wrapping up his phone call and JJ walked up the stairs with a fresh cup of coffee. Morgan, holding his own cup of coffee in one hand, was only winching visibly to a keen set of eyes. He had trouble pressing his files between his elbow and side and they were slowly slipping from his clothed grasp. Just as Prentiss readied herself to stand up and give her colleague a hand, Rossi appeared behind him and snatched the files from his fading grip.
"Shouldn't you still be on bed rest?"
"This place will go to hell if I'm not around, Rossi." Morgan replied playfully, winking at the elder agent.
"What? Got tired of the pretty nurses taking care of you night and day?"
"Nah. They just weren't so pretty anymore." Ross and Prentiss chuckled at his joke, Reid didn't fully understand it and kept gazing up at Morgan and Abby was too anxious. They were going to her city. Her city. Her town, her place, her kingdom. There, she would be able to show them how good she was. What she was made off. And perhaps, even, unravel what the heck had gone wrong with her own team; why she got kicked out and what to do to get back on the SCU. Because now that it was clear that Wills had transferred her, she reckoned there must be something that she did wrong for them to dump her at the BAU. Or so she figured.
As Hotchner marched into the room and the last of the team took their seats, they grew silent and waited for JJ to begin.
"Atlanta, Georgia,-" A few eyes were flashed towards Abby. "- has been dealing with a series of murders. So far four victims have been found dead in a rather small area in midtown Atlanta. The victims were all different; different age, different gender, different race, different looks, everything. They all seem completely random. Two of the victims were killed by a sharp instrument, most likely a bottle. The second victim, Alexander Brooks, thirty-seven, was killed because of blunt force trauma to the back of his head; coroner suspects a big rock or stone. The third victim, Sally Burke, mother of four, was stabbed in the neck with a pipe. The fourth victim was discovered this morning - his name was Ike Charles-Washington."
"What makes Atlanta PD think this is one UnSub?" Morgan asked.
JJ shared a look with Hotch and her eyes briefly wandered in Abby's direction. "The call didn't come from Atlanta PD. The SCU in Atlanta called. Section Chief David McCallister to be exact."
"SCU couldn't handle it themselves?" Prentiss wondered out loud.
"The primary team was working the case, but they got a priority call. Pretty big by the way, their primary and secondary team were both pulled away from their cases."
"But why? Are they even sure this is connected?" The dark, wounded agent pressed.
"They found prints at the scenes. They all match, they just don't know to whom."
"And they need our help finding him." Rossi added almost solemnly, observing the crime scene pictures in his hand.
"And fast." JJ commented. She had full attention once again. "McCallister thinks they have a spree killer on their hands and it will only get worse. The first murder happened two weeks ago, the last was discovered this morning."
"He's escalating. Three kills in the last week. He's deteriorating." The elder agent said.
"So, who is this McCallister guy anyway?" Morgan asked, his face grimacing once he saw what was left of the first victims face, Jizabelle Montgomery.
"Perhaps you should ask Frankie." JJ said, almost awkwardly, and eyes and head turned to the young agent. "He's her old boss."
Abby waited with her reply. She had been busy studying the pictures and rapports they had so far and looked at the group from under her brows and a wide lock of hair. "Mac's a good guy." It remained quiet in the room. Abby looked up again. "He really is. I just don't like him."
"Scott's right. McCallister is a good guy. I worked with him for three months years ago. He's good."
"Is there anything else connecting the scenes?" The youngest woman in the room asked. "Was there anything stolen or taken or written or perhaps even something done to the victims?"
"Aside from the mutilation and the overkill with two of the victims and the fingerprints, no."
"So we're practically flying blind." Prentiss stated.
"We've dealt with less. Wheels up in thirty." And with that Hotch ended the briefing and left the room, followed slowly by the rest.
JJ headed in the direction of her office, presumably to grab her go-bag and all the paperwork she was responsible for, and Abby set foot towards the computer labs when she heard Morgan call out to her. Reid had been lured away by the coffee machine and would catch up with her later.
"Abs." He was a few feet away and the hallway was deserted, otherwise he wouldn't have called her 'Abs'.
Abs. Oh God. Personal.
She fought the urge to run away and curiosity stirred inside of her stomach. "Ya?" She pretended she didn't know who called her name. "Morgan." She tried to sound surprised, but she wasn't sure if he bought it.
"Are we, y'know, okay?"
Define 'we'. Define 'okay'.
"Uhm, yeah, sure."
"It's just – I haven't seen you much, so I wasn't sure if we were cool. After… Y'know."
He actually looked rather cute when he felt truly uneasy, Abby figured. "Oh! Ya, no, we're cool. How's the shoulder?"
"Better."
"Good. You'll be up and running in no time."
He only smiled at the floor for a second.
"Anything else?" She asked.
"No. Thanks."
"Welcome."
Morgan smiled at her again before turning on his feet and going back into the BAU, passing by Reid on the way. Abby's favourite genius brought the cup to his lips as he halted and looked at Morgan's back.
"Haa-awkward." Abby said to him in an almost sing-song tone of voice.
"What?"
"Nothing gets past you, eh?" She joked and Reid grinned at her.
"Sorry."
They both headed down the corridor.
"So, does this mean.."
"Ya."
"Okay.."
"Ya."
"That's.."
"Ya."
Reid sent her another one of his famous smiles before their ways parted.
December.
Monday.
Same day.
08.59
One point nine-four-four seconds away. Two feet. One point six-three-eight seconds. Two feet. One point one-seven-seven seconds. One feet. Zero point eight-two-five seconds. One feet. Zero point two-five-six seconds. Almost there.
"Scott!"
She had been two tenth of a second away from a plane that would take her back to her hometown. Her home land, her city, her home, her everything. Whilst she had been anxious to return, she also felt nervous. It would be different. Last time she visited Atlanta for a case was to assist on the Whitewater Creek killer case - but that was nearly a month ago. And besides, she had assisted her old team on the case. Now, she would take on one of SCU's cases with her new team. That was like comparing birds to fish, stone with air, feet with lungs and black with the sun. Unfortunately for Abby, she could not shoot the man that called out to her. Because he had been entitled the name 'supervisor' and it disabled her from killing him secretly.
Abby turned and waited for the exhausted man that approached her. Reid halted in the entrance of the plane but she told him to go ahead. She reckoned whatever Hotchner had to say, was something private. The rest of the team was already on board.
"That thing with you and McCallister. That wasn't about Newman, was it?"
She looked at him. The wind was strong and small locks of hair flew that managed to set themselves free from the grip of the elastic hair band, danced around and tickled the skin on her face. "No. And with all due respect sir, it's none of your business. I don't like him. He doesn't like me. Don't know why, never tried to figure it out. End of story." She left Hotch on the stairs and entered the plane, feeling more than white-hot furious. He was sticking his nose more and more into her business and she didn't like it. She felt questioned and doubted. Worst was, she couldn't figure out why she felt that way. They were pressing her in a corner and she keep seeing options and escape-possibilities disappear in thin air. How did they manage to get her in a corner in the first place? Or rather: why did she have the feeling she was being cornered?
She thought last case's 'panic attack' could have something to do with it, but the doctors cleared her and she was cleared for duty. She even visited a shrink to convince Hotch, and Strauss for that matter, that she was alright indeed. Other than getting the shrink's number, she wasn't sure if she had gained anything by it. Then again, psychologists of all degrees brought up her tendency to lie. And she liked lying like that. She liked to fool people that studied their whole lives to pry into other's life, judging them whilst pretending to help them, and classifying them into little groups – each with their own label, symptoms and 'how to treat' guide. Still, she did get two days off and happily spend her time with Bird the German shepherd in Washington D.C., where she visited an old friend, lie detection expert Cal Lightman, and his daughter.
In Washington, the change of season was clearly visible. Abby grew up in Georgia and was a real 'Georgia-woman'. She hated snow. She disliked the change of season that was too different and she liked all sorts of different food. She was, however, a Republican. From the 60 different languages spoken in Atlanta, she understood and managed to hold a short conversation in 6 languages and fluently spoke 4. She was a fan of the Atlanta Trashers but preferred football; the Atlanta Falcons. Football with her friends was one of the few things she would push work aside for. She took the hike along the Appalachian Trail when she turned 18. She practiced a lot of rock climbing, especially in her earlier years and loved whitewater paddling. Yet, despite all this. with her English mother and the years she studied in England, she held on to her English accent. A neighbour once joked that she looked Georgian, she walked and acted like one, but once she opened her mouth she suddenly was an English brat that stayed when the English came and chased the Indians away.
It was a cloudy day and Abby couldn't see any land through the plane's window. She glanced at her watch and estimated they should be flying over West Virginia by now. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Rossi looking at her, as he sat in the booth across from her. She wondered when someone would speak up. She didn't have to wonder for too long; young doctor Reid returned to his seat with a hot cup of coffee and sat down on the other side of the table. He smiled gently at her.
"Nervous?" He asked.
Abby sent him her mischievous smile and shook her head.
"I've heard a few stories about the SCU, but what is it, really?" Garcia asked. The blonde sat next to her personal superhero and was knitting, creating something that looked like a sock. Morgan and JJ lowered the files they were holding and also turned their focus on the young female agent.
"It's a special crimes unit."
"What sort of cases did you usually handle?" Rossi continued asking.
"All sorts. But mostly it were the more brutal crimes, the serial offenders, abductions, strange killings that the police didn't think they could handle. Sometimes we were asked to come, sometimes we invited ourselves."
"You worked together with the police, helped them out?"
"The SCU doesn't help anyone out. They take over." She replied.
"Sounds like something that could cause a lot of tension." Morgan commented.
Abby shrugged. "In the beginning, yeah, there have been difficulties. But at some point the SCU started building a reputation, a name. The only problems we had then were overachieving deputies and young cops in charge."
"So you're actually a bit like the Georgia Bureau of Investigation." Prentiss said.
"Not really. We mostly handled cases in and surrounding Atlanta. The GBI handles them throughout Georgia."
"So, what did you do?" Garcia asked with a smile on her face as she sat down with a cup of coffee next to Reid. She had put aside half the sock she was creating and wore an expression on her face of a child getting ready for a children's story.
"What did I do?" Abby replied as her eyebrows narrowed in confusion.
"Yeah, what did you do. I don't really see you as the computer nerd or something."
"We didn't really have a picking order like that. Miles is the computer nerd though. You'll love him."
"We'll see about that." She joked.
"I'm sure you all had your specialties." Rossi started and let his voice trail off, inviting Abby to answer.
"I was second negotiator and violent crimes expert. I was the trouble maker. I was the best shot. I was first lead in undercover operations. And I was the interrogation expert."
"Really?" JJ asked, almost in disbelieve.
"Ya. Why? Is that so hard to believe?" A small smile formed around Abby's lips, but her eyes were set keen on discovering emotions on JJ's face.
"No. I just-… I don't know, you don't seem like such a type."
"What, I look more like a follower to you?"
"No." JJ paused as she sought for words. "I just didn't know that you had such a rather impressive function within that team."
"Yeah…" Abby stared down at her empty cup for a second and then looked back up.
"What else can you tell us about the SCU?" Morgan spoke, his eyes penetrating her mind forcefully, looking for anything that could help him determine what he should expect and get a read on Abby's state of mind.
"Well, the SCU started back in 2000, founded by Angie Wills and Trevor Harrison. In 2002 the primary team was demoted to secondary as a completely new, selected and handpicked team became primary. That's when Cuba, Ricardo Pinõ was asked to join. Holly 'Lewy' Lewis joined the team shortly after Gina 'Angel' Angeholis and Ben 'Laker' Ooster. They received a lot of criticism for creating such a young and new team but in '03 the numbers were so convincing, they received an additional budget to expand. That expansion took form in a small computer SCU unit; that's when Miles joined the team in 2004. First as general computer technician, then as primary team analyst and in '08 he became a profiler. Later in '04 Will 'Big Guy' Trent resigned from the primary team. In 2005 the numbers were so impressive the SCU earned their own building unit and added a third team. I joined in '06. A year later three of our team members were killed, including the team leader, Harrison. Wills took over and a fourth team was set up for trainees and interns."
"Who joined the team after your team members were killed?" Rossi asked, seeming interested but Abby's gut told her there was an underlying meaning.
"No one was asked after they got killed. Applications for the primary team were closed."
"Your boss agreed with that?" Prentiss sounded surprised.
"He knows his teams. He knew we wouldn't accept anyone else. It worked, we worked."
"He? I thought Wills was a 'she'?" JJ replied.
"Angie Wills is team leader. But David McCallister is the unit chief. He runs the SCU department."
"I hope he's nicer than Strauss." Garcia joked.
Most of them snorted as Abby replied to her joke. "Mac and I have one thing in common."
"Which is?" Garcia continued.
"Our mutual grudge against each other." Abby smiled. "But he's a good guy."
As soon as they flew more South, Abby noticed the lack of snow and the clearer sky. Anxiety wrestled with her stomach and she felt it flip when she spotted the first trees of the Chattahoochee National Forest.
There you are, Home.
"It is necessary to help others, not only in our prayers, but in our daily lives. If we find we cannot help others, the least we can do is to desist from harming them."
Dalai Lama
