A/N: New story! YAY! I am trying to get myself motivated to write again, I have been seriously depressed and me even want to write is a huge step for me! Please review! This story is dark, very, very dark, I will not hold back. Just know that! Also, this story will alternate POV's, between the "UNSUB" and "JJ." This chapter is from the POV of the "UNSUB"
You hum to yourself as you zip back and forth in your kitchen, preparing a delicious meal for your guest; tonight's affair will include hot lobster rolls with lemon-tarragon sauce, steamed broccoli and a glass of Chateau Latour, Bordeaux. It was an expensive bottle, one from 1922 and it had cost a nice drop in the bucket for your bank account, but your guest was well worth it.
She had been staying with you for a while now, four days to be exact. And everyday, you grew more and more confident that maybe she would be the one to stay with you. None of your previous guests had lasted past the three day mark; and once this one had made it, had passed that mark, you knew she was perfect.
You had known she was perfect from the moment you had first laid eyes on her, she was beautiful, educated, professional, everything you had always dreamt about. She was simply perfect and the two of you together made life even more perfect.
So you began seeing her, casually at first, a hello every now and then- normally when you jogged past her in the park. Then you began noticing her routine, paying more and more attention; you knew it was dangerous and creepy- that your psychologist would voice serious concerns if you told him; but you couldn't stop yourself.
You knew she went to the grocery store on Sunday afternoons, that she shopped at Target and that she spent the majority of her time in the produce section. So you began to plan your grocery shopping around hers, you began to notice and purchase the same foods she did- after all, if you got lucky enough, you wanted her to feel comfortable at your place.
You knew where her pharmacy was and made sure to stock up on all the over the counter prescriptions she would pick up- Tylenol, Zyrtec, hot pads, and various little things she would grab.
You knew her doctors office, her appointments, the car she drove, her friend's names, and what the inside of her house looked like. And it was all perfect until you invited yourself into her house to drop off flowers and you saw it.
Numerous photos lined the wall, of her and some man, some man holding her, kissing her, loving her. But you knew better, you knew that was not love- you were the only one to love her, capable of giving her everything she deserved. And you knew you had to do it.
So you ignored the photos of the man on the wall, of the small child, the toys scattered around the house and you allowed yourself to enter her room. You held out the bag you had packed and began carefully going through her drawers, collecting the items you knew she would need once she realized that she belonged with you.
It was a month later, a month after you allowed yourself into her house, that you made your move. And you have not stopped smiling since. She had put up a fight, and you had expected it, you knew she was trained, but so were you and you had the element of surprise.
Now, as you whistled and hummed, you couldn't help but be excited about seeing her again, talking to her, holding her. Right now, she was completely dependent on you- she needed your assistance with most of her daily tasks. Toileting, dressing, walking, eating- she required your help.
And you loved being able to help her- after all, you were there to serve her.
So with one last touch, you arranged your dinner and her's being extra careful to keep the meals separate from one another. Her's was special.
You carried it upstairs to your room before you grabbed the key around your neck and stuck it in the outlet behind your end table. With a click and a hum, the back wall swung open revealing a panic room and you swear your heart stopped with anticipation, knowing you were about to see the love of your life.
And as the wall reveals its secrets, you feel your heart racing at the mere sight of her.
"Baby doll," You call to her, and walk in, making sure the door shuts behind you. "I bought you dinner." You whisper and kneel in front of her; you bring your hand and brush it through her golden hair, calling to her softly as you see her eyes begin to flicker open.
Her gaze is foggy and she is unable to focus on you, so you bend down and help her to sit up. "Ready for dinner?" You cannot help but kiss her lips as you put some of the crab on a fork and gently place it on her lips. Instinct takes over and she slowly open her mouth. "There you go, honey." You coo and continue to feed her, loving that you are this important to her welfare and wellbeing.
You sit and talk to her for the next forty five minutes, making sure she eats the entire meal. She seems to enjoy it and the wine that you allow her to sip. When the plate and glass are clean, you know you have a few minutes to act before the next routine begins.
"C'mon, baby doll." You kiss her and lift her to stand, and you cannot help but smile when she nearly collapses against you. "It's okay, I've got you." You encourage her as you lead her to the toilet. You do not dare take her out of the room yet, not with the cops and FBI swarming the neighborhood, so instead, you had a toilet installed.
Showering isn't a problem, you just give her a sponge bath- afterall, she is no shape to fight you.
"Done?" You ask, and help her back off the toilet. "Okay, honey." You have her sit down on the chair as you reach into your pocket.
You know she knows what's coming because you see her flinch away. "Jennifer?" You wish it could be some other way- that you didn't have to do this, three times a day; but you also know you cannot risk her making any noise, any commotion.
"No more.." Her voice is shaky, weak and you briefly stop as she pulls her knees up and puts her hand in front to stop you.
"I'm sorry, honey. I have to." You lean over and kiss her on her forehead and stick the needle in neck, cringing as she jumps at the prick. You make sure the entire contents of the needle are pushed into her body before withdrawing the needle.
She goes limp moments later. You carry her over to her bed, and remove her clothes, after all, the room does get hot. And when your watch tells you it's time for you to head to bed, you strip off your own clothes and climb into bed next to her. You inhale as you bring her up against your naked body and smile knowing that just feet outside your home door- the FBI is losing their minds looking for Special Agent Jennifer Jareau.