Spencer's Point of View

Eventually, against my protests, Leah's case got put on the back burner. We'd wasted a ton of resources on it already, and we were no closer to finding her killer than we were a month ago. I felt awful. Honestly, I broke every time we got on that jet and went somewhere new to deal with a new killer. We always got him or her; always. So why hadn't we been able to catch this one?

It was looking more and more like a cold case. I couldn't stand it! Why didn't they understand that we had to find him? They didn't understand.

It had been thirty-seven days after I first found Leah when the sixth body was discovered. She'd been dead only a day or two, found on the same beach I had found Leah by an elderly couple going for a walk. She had the same dark hair, but brown eyes. Leah's were the only ones that were green. The other women all had hazel, or greenish-brown. Hers were the only green eyes. It made her different from the others. That was somehow comforting, even after Marie Craig had been discovered.

She had died from six stab wounds to the abdomen. She was found wearing black underwear, and nothing else. She was exactly like Leah, but nothing like her. She had been a dentist, married divorced twice by the time she turned twenty-five, not long before she was kidnapped. Her boss had reported her missing.

All the evidence had been washed away by the time CSU examined the body. I wanted to cry. We were still no closer to finding this guy, and he had killed another innocent. It wasn't fair.

I decided, on some half-assed thought, that Leah might want to hear the news from me. I didn't want her slipping on the television and seeing another victim like herself had been found. I thought I could break the news more gently to her. So I looked up her address and drove myself there as soon as I could.


Leah's Point of View

There was a knock at my door. I quickly wiped the sticky tears from my cheeks. Another woman had been found dead, killed the same way I almost had. I just heard it on the news. I couldn't believe it. I really thought that Dr. Reid would find the man who had broken me. And yet I hadn't heard a single thing from him, and it was tearing me apart.

I put on a brave face and opened the door. I wouldn't cry in front of anyone. There he was! He looked a little worse for wear, but all in one piece. His hair had lost its shine and he had dark circles under his eyes, but he was alive. So why hadn't he given me updates? Why hadn't he at least called to tell me how he was doing or how the investigation was going?

I let him in, anyway. I took a step back and he closed the door behind him. He looked sad. He knew nothing about what 'sad' really meant. He took a deep breath and looked down at his shoes. "Another body was found," he said quietly, and I rolled my eyes.

"I heard."

His head snapped up, and he looked me in the eyes. "I'm sorry." My bottom lip trembled. I promised myself that I would not cry, and yet here I was, on the verge of tears. What did he know about being sorry? He knew nothing! A tear ran down my cheek, burning like fire. I was so angry. I was angry that they hadn't found him yet. I was angry that he hadn't called. Angry that everyone just seemed to forget what happened to me happened at all. I was angry at everyone and everything. I was angry at him.

"I'm sorry, Leah," he repeated. "How are you... feeling?" He looked so put out to see me cry. He reached up a hand towards my cheek as if to wipe the tear away, but I would have none of it.

"Don't wipe my tears away like it will make everything okay!" I slapped his hand down and backed up several steps into my apartment. "I'll never be able to get that taste out of my mouth, or the feeling of his hands wrapped around my wrists away! You couldn't possibly understand what I've gone through every day since what happened. He took my dignity away from me. Will you ever experience the feeling of screaming your lungs out and not being heard? Begging, pleading, and crying for him to stop and not being acknowledged? I don't think so." He opened his mouth as if to say something, but what, I didn't care. I cut him off, continuing my rant. I guess I just needed to get it all out.

"I'm tired of people trying to offer me comfort on a situation they know nothing about. I can't and don't want to talk about how I feel, can't you respect that? No one knows the feelings I suppress every morning." My chest heaved with a dry sob that I couldn't suppress. "When I wake up and take a shower, try to scrub the memory away. I can't get clean. I have to live through each day with the feelings of being deprived, violated, unwanted and no good. I didn't ask for what happened to me, I don't deserve this misery. No one deserves this kind of pain. I have live forever with everything a cruel reminder of what's happened to me. I should have died on that beach!" I screamed the last sentence louder than I intended to. I was just so angry. Not at Dr. Reid, but at myself. And at the man who had done this to me. He took a step forward towards me, a sad look in his beautiful chocolate-coloured eyes.

"I don't want you to pity me, try to comfort me, or pretend that you get it, you don't! Don't pretend like everything's going to be okay. Are you oblivious to the fact that he is still walking the streets? He could just as easily have another girl on that boat right now, praying for mercy from heavens above. You can't comprehend what I live with from day to day. But everything happens for a reason right?" I let out a hollow sort of half-laugh. "What's the sense in my circumstance? What was my life supposed to teach me? All I've learned is that no one can be trusted! I mean, where was my angel while I cried? So don't think you know where I'm coming from, it's apparent to me that sometimes God just doesn't come through." I sobbed again, and he took another step closer, a look of understanding on his face. And for some reason, I felt like he did understand.

He took a step closer and hesitantly put his arms around me. And I cried. I cried for the women who had to go through what I did. I cried because I hadn't been set free along with them. I cried for a long time into his chest, making a large wet spot on his beige argyle sweater vest with my tear. He didn't seem to mind. He stood there, holding me gently, as huge sobs wracked my body.

What was I doing?! I barely knew this man. But he had kind eyes and a gently touch. Not once did he move his hands from the middle of my back, trying to cop a feel. Not once did he seem disgusted by my misery. I felt like he understood. He was warm, and comfortable. I liked that. Even as the tears slowly stopped, I didn't want to let go.

"Sorry," I mumbled, pulling away. His arms dropped to his sides.

"What for?" he asked, tilting his head to one side. I looked up at him, into his eyes, and it my train of thought went out the window.

"I don't remember." He chuckled. His laugh sounded natural, and happy. I didn't remember what it was like to be happy. Not since... it happened.

"Are you ever going to find him?" I whispered. He frowned slightly.

"I hope so." He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I really do."


Spencer's Point of View

When I was in my car driving back to work, it hit me: I had just let a woman hug and cry on me for nearly an hour. I was never comfortable with women. And yet, comforting her, holding her while she cried, listening to her spill all her thoughts and her fears to me as she ranted... it all felt so natural. That was kind of scary. But no, I wasn't falling in love with her.

I closed my eyes when I got to a red light. Her green eyes were hopeful but sad as stared back at me. My eyes snapped open. No. I was defidently not falling in love with her.