Title: Wait for the Wheel
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Different Destinations (Part 2)
Characters/Pairing: Reid-centric, team - gen
Genre: Suspense/Drama
Summary: Infamous serial killer Spencer Reid is back, and this time he won't be content with taking just one BAU member. This time, he has to have them all.
Author's Note: My deepest apologies. I did something unforgiveable. I ended a sentence with a preposition. The rest of the story is vaguely planned out, so the wait for the next chapters shouldn't be too long. After this, there are ~6 to go.
Warnings: Character Death
Wait for the Wheel
Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.
Soren Kierkegaard
...
X
At the police station, everyone was feeling the tension. It wasn't the first time that a case had become personal, but it was probably the worst. They all knew far too well what Spencer Reid was capable of. Whatever JJ and Rossi were going through, it probably wasn't tea and crumpets.
The briefing room felt uncomfortable empty; they were down to three profilers, all of whom had a heavy emotional investment in the situation. They weren't good odds on the best of days.
'We need to give the older boy a cognitive interview,' Hotch said, breaking the silence.
'You think they saw something that might help us?' Morgan asked, frowning.
Hotch's reply was filled with a desperation that Emily hadn't heard since Gideon's death. 'It's the best hope we've got.' He gave Emily a look. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.
'You want me to do it?' Emily's words came out a little more incredulous than she had intended, but the sentiment remained – she was barely able to deal with her own emotional function with regards to Spencer Reid, let alone someone else's.
'He'll respond better to you,' was the explanation given. It might have been true, but that didn't mean she had to feel any better about doing it.
'Do you want back-up?' Morgan asked, and Emily bit back the comment she'd been about to make. Over the past few months, Morgan had been a pillar of strength, but Emily didn't want to grow dependant on him.
'I've got it,' she assured him, even though she wasn't exactly sure how true that statement was. It was part of the grand BAU tradition – "say you're fine, even if you're not."
She found the two boys under the watchful care of a uniformed officer, whose nametag read "Ramirez." Someone had found some Tonka trucks for them – the younger one - Jake – seemed fairly into it, pushing the toys around the floor and making loud engine sounds, but the older one – Nick – seemed far more distracted.
Did he kill her? The boy's words echoed in her ear, and she was fairly sure she would never be able to forget them.
Nick looked upwards as she walked over, her eyes widening. 'Did you find him?'
Emily bit her lip and shook her head. She didn't know how to explain to this boy how complicated it was to catch a serial killer. It wasn't the kind of thing that he should know. At his age, he should be playing teeball, and running around with his friends, not sitting, orphaned, on the floor of a police station.
'I need to ask you some questions, would that be alright?'
Nick looked back towards his brother. 'Jake, too?'
Emily shook her head, but for some reason, Nick seemed relieved by her words. Maybe he was just being the protective sibling. After what had happened, she couldn't blame him.
…
Reid stared into the darkness.
He'd locked the door of the basement behind him; both of the FBI agents were smart enough to know that calling for help would only get them killed. He just had to wait – Hotchner would grow more and more desperate trying to find his agents, and that's when Reid would strike.
He had plenty of time.
The house he'd chosen was a decent enough, all things considered. Single occupant that likely wouldn't be missed for a while, which was lucky, because Spencer had slit his throat days ago. The neighborhood had a high turnover rate, even with the economic crisis. As far as anyone else knew, Reid was just the new tenant.
Still, his face was probably all over the local news by now, so he'd kept to himself, mostly. When the time was right, they would all know.
The row of clear vials lined the bathroom sink. They'd last for another few days at least, but then he'd have to go out for more. Whatever high the drug gave him, though, it would be nothing compared to the thrill he'd get from his next kill.
He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, tightening the belt around his upper arm. The crook of his elbow was already dotted with needle marks.
Is this in your profile?
He gave a long sigh, as the contents of the needle plunged into his vein. It was a feeling like no other, save one.
He gave himself a shaky grin.
It was time to have a little fun.