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"Study the past if you would define the future." ~Confucius


Waiting around for the conclusion of interviews, I was trying to keep myself calm. Watching the reactions from Adam in the room was heartbreaking. How Spencer could empathize with these people, I haven't a clue. Hearing footsteps approach me, Hotch's face came into my peripheral vision. "Carter," he addressed, investigating through the glass.

"Yes sir?" I queried, not ceasing to study the interrogation. Adam was a poster child of impaired speech. He took too long to formulate responses.

Hotch gazed in the window along with me. Crossing his arms, from what I saw in the reflection, I wondered if he was dissatisfied with my performance. Morgan must've snitched on me. "Reid told me you were hesitant to interrogate Julie and Adam, why is that?" he questioned me. Making sure I didn't show any signs of anxiety in my features, I pondered on the question. Was there an excuse?

Due to Hotch's seniority and aura of dominance, I couldn't pull a fast one on him. There wasn't a possibility I could even joke my way out of this one like I did Morgan. "I know it's a weakness, regardless Agent Hotchner... But, I was testing Julie for the profile, a submissive female wouldn't have asked me about my presence," I explained my actions. Crossing my fingers, I trusted that it wouldn't be the end of my cross-examination.

"Clever, Carter," Hotch commented, nodding in approval. My heart leapt with joyous emotions that weren't recognizable. That was a heavy compliment coming from him, and I treasured it.

"Thank you Hotchner," I beamed. Spencer subconsciously gazed off to the side. Briefly we made eye contact, but he continued interrogating. Something told me that Hotch's lingering was a bad sign.

Clearing his throat, he rocked back and forth on his feet. "I want you to try to interrogate Adam with Reid, even if you just go in there to observe," Aaron suggested, or I hope it was a suggestion. The thought of being in there, a newbie practically, with Reid investigating some person I had no sympathy for… It was daunting. "That's an order," he expressed before pacing away. Biting my lip, Hotchner had thrown me to the hounds.

Walking around to the side, I carefully turned the knob on the door. As soon as I opened it, Adam's eyes flung to meet mine. Rage was evident in his watery pupils. "Why are you here?" Reid hushed rudely. I don't blame him; I don't want to be here either.

"Hotch's orders," I shrugged, sitting down on the couch. "Hello Adam, I'm Florence," I waved simply. He didn't care to respond from behind the grid. Reid rolled his eyes and continued with his interrogation.

"Did she buy the drugs?" Spencer asked quite callously. Way to piss a low self esteemed person off, I mocked within the confines of myself. Was he utterly oblivious to an addictive personality? Keeping my disbelief to a low simmer, I realized how effective his questions were.

"I have migraines," Adam confessed, pacing around in the small cell. Anxiety was a definite diagnosis, that small space seemed to bug him out.

Spencer made eye contact with him. Something important was about to be brought up. "So? Take a prescription," Reid communicated. Alright, that's it. Giving him a death glare, he dismissed my animosity.

"I thought you were different," Adam trembled.

Spencer resumed his condescending demeanor and moved forth with his questioning, "What does that mean?"

"Seems like you have this under control," I nervously hushed, scurrying back to the door. Reid nodded, patronizing me in senses. Escaping the room, I became embarrassed. Not only did Spencer throw me under the bus with Hotch, he made me trip, proving my weakness. That wasn't condonable.


"It's not that hard to trick a polygraph," I examined the results alongside Morgan and Reid. If Prentiss thought the tension was high last case, she should try to breathe over here. Asphyxiation was possible; the anxiety gripped all of our throats with vice grasp.

Derek stared at me and laughed. Was I really that unforgettable? "Well, you would certainly know," Morgan commented. Spencer kept replaying footage and possessed a face that made him look lost in thought.

"I can't believe I never saw it," Spencer muttered, flipping back the footage.

Morgan leaned in, putting the polygraph down. I kept lounging at my current state. "What if we're looking at one Unsub, but two personalities?" he advised, his eyes getting wide and beady.

Sighing, I put down my pen, and leaned in like Morgan was. As brilliant as Reid was, that wasn't logical. "Reid, you're adding seven variables to something that already makes sense," I folded my arms across my chest. Awaiting Morgan's rejection, I sipped on my water. Derek was really considering this, deep thought was evident in his features.

"Think outside the box Carter," Reid sneered. Really? You're seriously going to throw that at me? "Look the control on the polygraph he spiked on the slope intercept question," Spencer pointed to the screen, which was unnecessary because of the paper in front of me.

"So? Not everyone can stay awake during Algebra class," I commented, trying to get him to step down. This was absolutely preposterous; Adam was simply a damaged drug head who needed some help. What Adam wasn't, that's what we were looking for.

"No, you're not seeing this," he exclaimed agitatedly, severely frustrated at my opinions. "He's not supposed to know the answer, like you said, but if he was telling the truth… Wouldn't the polygraph remain the same?" Spencer's lip twitched up in victory. The position of 'sore loser' just opened up, and I wasn't about to stoop so low as to take it.

"I get that, but if you have multiple personalities, how could he control himself during interrogations?" I suggested, trying to prove my point that Spencer over thought this mess.

"It doesn't work like that, usually something triggers it," Morgan entered the conversation. Great, it was two against one, and I was screwed.

Reid smiled smugly, "So it peaked because the other personality knew Adam wouldn't know the answer," he lectured. Frowning, I shrugged my shoulders. Even now that is was explained, I didn't believe them.

The holes in my neck were drilled by Reid's eyes. Standing my ground, I sighed, "I'm glad you have evidence, but I'm still not buying it." Morgan gazed at me with disbelief for a split second and then rolled his eyes. I wasn't being childish; I truly believed Reid was wrong.

"You don't have to buy anything," Morgan communicated, sensing the disappointment in his voice, I was taken off guard. Wasn't I supposed to stand up for what I believed in? These hypocrites! "Reid, it sounds right," Derek concluded, putting his beliefs all out on the table. With that, he pushed his chair in and walked away, presumably to get feedback. Spencer followed him.

Picking up my empty travel mug, I guess I had to trail behind them.


Staring off of the balcony of my room, I picked the petals off of the roses. One by one, the flimsy red ligaments flung off the balcony. "You're getting plant material in my coffee," a voice commented. Rolling my eyes, I continued to fling the present into the wind. Sniffing the sea breeze, what I wouldn't give to go play in the waves half heartedly. Instead though, I was stuck up here lovesick and facing reality. "Seriously," the familiar voice beckoned. Suddenly, I saw Spencer's figure leaning over the adjoining balcony to attempt to see me. "Throwing them away wouldn't have sufficed?" he questioned, adding a smirk.

"I needed to be dramatic," I sullenly admitted. Dissecting another flower, I ripped all of the petals off in one handful. Spencer still leaned over the balcony, if his mom were here; I bet she'd have a fit. I know my mother would. "I'll make it quick," I promised, dropping the stem from the tenth story.

"So Victor sent you flowers?" Spencer morphed into his condescending interrogation mode. In no way did I want to crack on him, but he wasn't necessarily making it easy. Ripping out another handful, I sprinkled them down into the garden.

Reaching back around to grab more, I nodded, "I guess you can say that." Stopping the decapitation, I resented the fact that Reid had to witness this. Surprisingly enough, he still wanted to talk to me. After all the efforts I undertook to try to prove him incorrect, it takes a good person to do that. In the end, good always wins. But just because I had lost, does that make me bad?

"An ordinary woman would be stoked to get flowers from her fiancé," Reid commented, denying eye contact as he stared into the ocean. Biting my lip, I continued the beheading of the red flowers.

Sighing, I watched a burst of wind carry the petals away. "An ordinary woman my age would be working some menial job, partying, studying for some pointless degree, and living in a dorm," I rebutted, trying to prove a point. Knowing Spencer; that would be interpreted literally.

"Do you want that?" Spencer questioned, swiveling his head to look at me. He was tired, bags rested below his eyes. I'm pretty sure I had those purple shadows slathered on my cheekbones as well.

Laughing softly, I looked down at the growing pile of petals in the grass. "Well, I've already experienced enough of that," I plucked the petals aimlessly. What was going through his head at the moment? Was he remembering me at one day before eighteen, when we first crossed paths? That was a rough time. During which I never thought I'd make it to twenty two. "I'm undecided," I expressed, trying to clear up misconception.

"About what?" Spencer inquired, digging through my life. I didn't mind it; I really had no one else. There was Victor, but he didn't seem to understand me. It was confusing, how he hated when I was away but liked the money I brought home. Actually, it wasn't confusing at all; I just wanted a reason to justify my thoughts.

"This job, this impending marriage, reality," I murmured, hoping my voice would get lost in the wind. It wasn't fair that Reid had to decipher my incoherent babble. This was a rough case for him, one could see it. The way he put his heart and soul on the line, the methods he used, everything showed his devotion and empathy for Adam.

Overall, it was admirable. "Well, you can't escape reality healthily," he mused, almost like going through a checklist. "There seems to be hopes for your impending marriage," Spencer pointed at the flowers. What a lie. "And for the job…" he stared to the crashing waves, "I promise you, it gets easier." He was lying; there wouldn't be a day I didn't relate to any of these people.

"Well, aren't you an optimist?" I joked, throwing the petals over the ledge. He saw how bad of a person I was. Spencer witnessed my low points; I'm not even referring to four years ago.

"Actually, the term is Agathism, but whatever you choose," Spencer shrugged, trying to lighten the mood with facts and figures. "Honestly, why are you destroying the flowers?" he questioned, catching a rose petal in midair.

Sighing, I didn't want him to know my secrets. He'd probably sell me out to Hotch again. Debating silently in my head, I opted to use, 'Agathism.' "Maybe because I don't like to be bought, these flowers were bought with the intention of an apology I'm not going to accept. I'm irate to the point of not functioning rationally anymore," I divulged, tearing two flowers apart at one time. Letting them go, I returned to the vase to gather the final two.

"The cancelation wasn't the only bump," Spencer realized. Like Julie, I became uncensored. All of my actions weren't sequestered. Maybe I was me again, but I shouldn't fear myself this much.

Shaking my head, I felt weird. Then it hit me, I had an epiphany, something I had waited six months for. "Not even that, I'm a tool, I'm being used Reid," and with that, Spencer was silent. Giving him a rose, and a feeble smile, he tore the head off and dusted the ground with the petals. He understood it.


Author's Second Note for the Hell of it: Reviews are greatly appreciated, thank you for reading and alerting!