Chapter 9: Death and Destruction
It is our choices...that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
J. K. Rowling
Song: Lift Me Up by Moby
Plain talking (plain talking)
Take us so far (take us so far)
Broken down cars (broken down cars)
Like strung-out old stars (like strung-out old stars)
Plain talking (plain talking)
Served us so well (served us so well)
Travelled through hell (travelled trough hell)
We know how it felt (we know how it felt)
I woke with the sun, like always, and it took me a few moments to realize I was in Spencer's bed. Slipping out from under the covers, I stretched and began my morning routine, trying not to think about the situation I was getting myself into with Spencer. First, I did yoga for half an hour and then ran through a Tai Kwon Do routine for another 30 minutes. I grabbed my towel from my room and showered away the sweat. Then I cleaned my face and dried my hair (an half an hour job, let me tell you). Getting dressed for the day, I pulled on skinny jeans and a dark purple Ed Hardy t-shirt that said "love kills slowly" wrapped around a skull. I wasn't sure how formal we had to dress when we were working a case and not in the office, so I just figured I would go with the flow. I braided my hair and decided just to put a bit of moisturizer on my face and go makeup-less. I put on my Docs, as I wore them here on the plane and the only other shoes I had bought were heels. I put on my gold watch, my earrings and my silver and gold necklace. Hanging on the necklace was a pendant of Caribbean crystal my best friend Steph had bought me when she was on holidays in 2009, a Saint Christopher medallion my grandmother had given me as a child and a cross my parents had given me at my baptism. It was a representation of the most important things in my world: my family, my friends and God. I picked up my belt and attached various pouches for my equipment. Pulling the belt through my waist, I tucked my phone into one, PDA into the other and I clipped on my hip holsters and guns, slipping my knives and one of my other guns into my boot. I walked back through the adjoining doors to Spencer's room. He just seemed to be waking up.
"Am I underdressed? What will everyone else be wearing? Will I be in trouble?"
"You look great" he sat up, his hair rumpled from sleep. "What time were you up?"
"5. What will everyone else wear?"
"Hotch is never out of a suit, Rossi and Morgan will wear dress shirts with suit pants, Emily and JJ will wear slacks or with a t-shirt and I'll be wearing similar to Morgan and Rossi"
"So jeans don't look unprofessional?"
"Morgan wears jeans a lot, its fine" his eyes watched her legs as she turned around, the denim tight around her slim thighs. She was so beautiful, so vibrant and wasn't scared to show her true self. He had to admit that he had fallen for her. The only other person he had ever truly loved was JJ and they never went anywhere beyond kissing. The only women he ever kissed were women he could really see a future with.
When we went down for breakfast, I got a few glances from the team, and Morgan commented on my shirt but it wasn't frowned upon. Breakfast was pretty plentiful and Spencer held my hand under the table. Morgan seemed to be the only one who noticed, but considering the table consisted of profilers I don't doubt they suspected. I still had no idea what to do with my feelings about Spencer, but his hand felt nice and soft and I couldn't resist lacing my fingers through his.
Emily raised her eyebrows at Spencer and Nikita's closeness to each other. Emily thought that they had done the deed, pleased at the success of the girls when they pulled together to make something (like adjoining hotel rooms for two new possible lovers) happen. Emily liked the way Nikita dressed; it would be a little unprofessional if they were in the office and not on a case, but she found it soothing that there was someone a bit different in this team, someone who (even though she looked young and inexperienced) would be able to hold her own against all odds.
"Hotch thinks were ready to give a profile" Morgan said after he swallowed his mouthful of eggs. "And for some reason I heard poptarts yelled through the hotel...now that wouldn't be you Nikita, would it? Wouldn't that mean, for example, that you would have happened to be in Reid's room at some point? Or maybe you were staying in there, for some reason or another?" I blushed furiously and quickly ordered fried eggs with a salad. Reid looked similarly embarrassed. Morgan started killing himself laughing. "I'll take that as a yes"
"Morgan, seriously, leave the poor kids alone" Rossi joked from his spot next to Emily.
"Nikita, I want you to take the lead in presentation" said Hotch from the other side of Emily, once they had all stopped chuckling. My cheeks began to cool and I felt like a little kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar. Grrr, trust Morgan to be the only one to bring it up. Emily and Hotch always just booked one hotel room for them now a days and I wonder if Spencer and I would be doing the same one day. That thought made me shiver in pleasure.
"Sure" that was going to be easy. In debating, I would have to make up seven to ten minute speeches on the spot, all rebutting the opposition. Why would presenting a profile to a room full of sceptical cops be any different when I was probably at least 5-10 years younger than the youngest of them? If I'd known I was going to be presenting the profile today, I would have worn something a little more professional than jeans and a t-shirt. Oh well, nothing to do about it now. I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be mocked for my age.
"Okay everyone, I would like to introduce you to the rest of the team, this is SSA Morgan, SSA Prentiss, SSA Rossi, Dr. Reid and Dr. Kostaschuk. We have a profile of the unknown subject or unsub in this case." Hotch signalled for me to start
"The unknown subject, or unsub, is a white male, thirty to thirty five years old. He is what we call an organized sociopath. Its most likely that in his childhood he was abused by a female figure in his life, a mother or sister. This lead to his perception of all women being dirty. He fits into the upper class world, frequenting country clubs and upper class bars. In the course of the investigation he will inject himself into it. He won't be aggressive about it; he won't use his social status or wealth to inject himself, he will be a silent background volunteer. To others, he's your perfect neighbour, mows the lawn, volunteers in the community.
"For this unsub, it's all about charm and control. He meets these women in social settings; he dates them for a short period of time, then he asks them to come with him for a second, takes them into the alley and kills them. This is evident because the women he targets are too smart to follow a stranger into an alley. If the unsub and the victim were in a relationship, it would enable a certain level of trust. She would follow him into an alley at his request, whereas women of such a high social class would not just follow a random stranger. He's organized; he knows when he walks into that bar that the woman he picks up will be his next victims, and he specifically chooses the victims when he finds one that fits his type. He will be obsessed with the media coverage of the murders; this will be all he talks about.
"We know from the location of the crime scenes that the unsub lives in this area." I outlined the geographical profile blue tacked on the whiteboard "This is the unsub's comfort zone, the area where he works and lives. He will never commit a crime near his home, so the area where the murders are commited will outline an area where he lives. This gives us an area to search for the unsubs home. All the victims homes are around his safe zone too. This is where you will be canvassing, looking at bars, cafes and country clubs. These will be the social settings that the women met the unsub." I talked confidently and with disparaging glances at those cops who wouldn't stop talking. There were many glances of incredulity at me as I spoke and gazes began to move southward. I really wished I hadn't worn skinnies.
"Please, during your canvassing if you see or hear anything suspicious, contact any myself or anyone else on the team. Are there any questions?" Hotch asked politely.
"I got one" a police officer up the back drawled, "How old are you?" He pointed at me. I glanced at Hotch and he gave a slight nod.
"Twenty three years old. I hold two doctorates, can speak 5 languages and am extremely qualified in all areas of forensic psychology. Any further questions in relation to the profile?" I asked pointedly as the police officers looked at me in shock. "Thank you for your time" I walked over to Hotch after the cops began to move off.
"How did I do?" I asked Hotch warily.
"Good. You presented confidently and didn't flinch. That doesn't happen very often on a first presentation. I heard there was an incident at the body yesterday?" He didn't look mad, more proud but wary. I sighed.
"It was my first real crime scene, first murdered body. It's different than cutting open a cadaver, it's not clinical, its someone's life that's been taken from them because some wacko has a mental issue. It won't happen again"
"It's not a problem. Everyone has issues at their first body"
"Thank you for your belief in me sir" I said happily before walking up to the rest of the team. Today, now that Hotch was pleased with the work we had done on the geographic profile, we were interviewing families and friends. We were trying to find a common denominator when it came to relationships. We were splitting up into groups of two or three and going around to all our victims' homes: Spencer and I, Hotch and Emily, Morgan, Rossi and JJ.
Spencer and I were given three victims, same as Hotch and Em and Morgan, Rossi and JJ. We were visiting the homes of victims Amy Schiller, Janice Porter and Kirsten Daniels. Kirsten Daniels was the first known victim, and if she was the stressor then it may lead us straight to the killer. We were visiting Amy Schiller's family first. She had two sons and a husband when she was murdered and the fact that she was having an affair made this worse. The husband was struggling to maintain the family and couldn't give us much information about the affair. We moved on the friends of Janice Porter, who lived on her own without any children or partners. One friend admitted to knowing a new flame in her friends life but hadn't seen him. His name was apparently Patrick and she met him at the local country club. We rang Hotch and the families they interviewed mentioned a Patrick, and one of them gave a rough description of a tall, sandy blonde 30-35 year old male. We headed to the home of Kirsten Daniels and when we rang the doorbell a male answered the door.
"This is Nikita and Reid, FBI, may we come in?"
"Um okay" he replied. He was tall, taller than Reid, with sandy blonde hair and the most beautiful smile. Little did we know.
"So what was your relationship to Kirsten Daniels?" Generic questions always got some not-so-generic answers.
"We were newlyweds"
"Can you remember anything specific about the night Kirsten was murdered?" Reid asked politely as I slipped out my mobile and discretely texted Garcia to check Mr. Daniels alibi. He was the kind of guy I'd follow into an alley, sadly enough.
"Nothing much, just that I had only just gotten back from tutoring my neighbour's kid when I realized she wasn't home yet."
"And what time was that?"
"Around 9 pm" My phone discreetly buzzed, and Mr. Daniels became suspect number one.
"Thanks for your time, Mr. Daniels. We'll be in touch" Reid and I left, got into our SUV and waited.
Eventually, he'd go to where-ever he took the women to entertain them, and when he did we'd arrest him. Half an hour later, he left the house and started down the street. Reid followed at a discrete distance, taking round about roots when possible. Eventually, he arrived at a country house and we drove to the next property down. The rest of the team was on their way as we approached the house, guns drawn. We cleared the bottom level and Reid made his way up the stairs. He opened the first door and I entered with my gun drawn. When Reid made his few steps into the room, I faced the wardrobe and suddenly the door flung open and Mr. Daniels launched himself at Reid with his knife ready to stab. I aimed in a millisecond and shot him, once, twice. I ran over to him and Reid kicked his knife away. Acting on auto, I checked his pulse. It was still beating softly and I quickly applied pressure to the wounds that were now pouring blood.
Song: Tell Me Why by Taylor Swift
I took a chance,
I took a shot,
And you might think I'm bulletproof but I'm not,
You took a swing,
I took it hard,
And right here from the ground I see who you are.
"Come on, come on, don't die" my heart was beating a million miles a minute as I thought through things that could have gone differently. Spencer was talking furiously to Hotch on his phone.
I didn't want to be a killer on my 3rd day on the job; I didn't want to have a death on my hands. Not yet, I wasn't ready. I cpouldn't have this. No. I tried so hard to save him, like I was saved. It didn't matter he was a killer. He was human, and I needed to feel human. To be human, I needed to save him.
The blood stopped running over my fingers and I knew he was gone. Damn it. I felt so exhausted, too tired to do anything but keep moving. My hands were red, so red it was all I could see. My vision blured hot with tears. Reid pulled me up as one tear softly made its way down my face. Wiping it away, I wiped a smear of blood onto my cheek. My heart throbbed painfully in my chest as I felt the warm life-blood on my cheek. he was on me, the man I had killed was on my hands and face. I felt so dirty, so vile. The team burst in, guns all drawn, and I cried a few more tears. Gosh I was useless! Ugh! Couldn't even to my freaking job without breaking freaking down. They must have felt so angry at me, for not being strong. I was furious at myself! Emily pulled me into a hug and that was almost as surprising as anything. I was in shock. I didn't know how I felt. It was confusing. I wasn't used to being weak.
We were back at the station and I sort of stumbled into a side room that Hotch had set his office up in. I just wanted privacy for a few minutes. I sat and prayed. I needed some sort of guidance; to reassure myself what I did was right, that there was no other way. Hotch walked in and my head snapped up, tear streaked from where I had hung it to pray. He looked startled, but then backed slowly out with a small smile on his face. I finished up and opened the door to leave his office when he intercepted me and lead me back.
"Nikita, what happened today was not your fault, it was in no way preventable and you saved Reid's life," he looked 100% dead serious.
"I just…don't know how to feel. I knew that taking a life would be an eventuality of this kind of career, and I thought I had prepared myself for the possibility. I guess, I just needed to straighten things out between me and God"
"Well, no matter what, I am proud of the way you have conducted yourself on this case. A job very well done and I'm proud to call you my agent"
"Thank you sir." I left his office only to be whisked away to my hotel room by JJ and Emily with very serious expressions on their faces. Apparently, they had something super-top-secret to tell me and it made me slightly worried.
When we were settled on the bed, looks passed between Emily, Garcia and JJ. "What?"
"Well…" Garcia tried to start but JJ held up a hand.
"Reid and I, well, we…" She trailed off, trying to find the right words. "We had a thing…not a sexual thing…but close. It ended only a few weeks before you came. Will and I had a rough patch and it sort of just happened and…"
The look on Nikita's face stopped the girls. She was furious, angry as hell. She got up suddenly, putting her glass on the bedside with alarming force and yanked open the door between her room and Reid's. This was not going to be pretty.
I walked in to see him on top of Sarah. My heart crumbled as the man I loved ripped the shirt off of one of my friends.
"You SOB!" I screamed at him, my palms getting sweaty. I should know better by now than to yell at him. I couldn't help it though. I put up with his shit all the time, and he treats me like this! Sarah grabbed her shirt and ran from the room speedily, a guilty look thrown back at me. My head spun as I saw the expression on his face.
"I was ENJOYING THAT!" he screamed at me and slammed me back into the wall. The bruises from a couple of days ago complained painfully at this abuse. "You WILL NOT QUESTION ME!" he slapped me across the face and I fell to the floor, tears in my eyes. He grabbed my hair and threw me into the other wall. "I will do what I want and you will do what I say, thats the deal." he whispered angrily in my ear as he kicked me in the stomach. He kicked and kicked and kicked. I could feel my ribs crack slowly at the aggrivated kicks. Damn girl, why the hell don't you just leave? Because I can't, argued my heart, I love him.
I walked in to see him packing his bag. He might as well have been ontop of JJ for all I cared. My hands twitching, I stood there untill he turned slowly around to face me. Coward. How DARE he! Its like everything he did was just to PROVE that all men were like Peter. I'm not going to stay quiet this time. No more will I be the victim of manipulative men. Reid was just another SOB who thought he could get into my pants. "YOU AND JJ!Is this what I'm all about for you, you SOB! I'm just some woman you barely know to fall back on when you break up with another girl? Do you even know what it cost me to open up to you? Did you even care?"
Morgan could hear the screams and insults from his room at the end of the hall and he made his way to the room where the sounds originated, Reid's room.
"Listen, its nothing like that…" Reid tried to defend himself meekly, hands raised as if in defence.
"NO! YOU LISTEN TO ME. I had no control over what I felt for you! It was instantaneous chemistry. After last night! Why is this the first time I'm hearing about all this? Don't I at least deserve to know? Do I mean so little to you?"
"NO!" he grabbed my forearms and shook me, "I feel a lot for you!"
"But you're still in love with her?" I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. I could see his eyes, boring into me. Suddenly a great saddness swept over them, like a veil. I know the answer before it was out of his mouth.
Spencer knew what this was going to do to her. Damn, every profiler in the room knew what this would do. For once, the sentiment of 'you can't handle the truth' was correct. Nikita, right now, couldn't handle the truth. But he had to say it. He couldn't lie to her, she would know. She always knew.
"Yes." It was barely a whisper, but it shattered my whole heart. I slapped him, then and there, straight across his cheek. The whole team was watching this spectacle and Morgan grabbed me roughly around the waist and pulled me out of Reid's room and into his own.
"I just…I WANT TO SCREAM! I WANT TO HURT HIM!"
"Hit me" he responded. I did. I punched him and yelled and kicked the walls. I nearly fell into a crying heap but he caught me and held me into his chest as I sobbed away my heart. It was not fair; I was not some naive idiot. It's what he made me feel like! He didn't have to right to make me feel like crap. Morgan shushed me softly until my tears ran dry and I sagged against him. He stretched across his bed and I laid my head on his hard chest.
"I'm sorry" I mumbled, tracing patterns on his shirt, ashamed I had hurt him in my rage.
"Its no problem, I'm here for you." The rest of the team walked in and congregated around the bed.
"Reid…he should have told you" Hotch crossed his arms and leaned against the back wall as he spoke. "I'm not going to report you"
"Thanks" I sniffed, "I told you Rossi, It's never worth it"
"What exactly did he say that upset you so much?" Rossi hadn't heard the whispered last word.
"I thought we were something…different…more…I don't know but I opened up and I trusted him. Last night I slept in his bed. I haven't done that since the good days with Peter and me. Then when Jaje told me…I asked him if he still loved her. He said yes. He was just jerking me around on a string the whole time. I was just some fill in when he couldn't have JJ. That's what made me hit him. I'm no body's warm body." I got up from the bed and ran my fingers through my hair. "I'm going to go pack". JJ gave my arm a squeeze I walked out of the room.
"Well, that was more dramatic than I thought it would be" Rossi said wearily. He had spent at least 10 minutes reassuring Reid that Niki just needed space. After that parting statement though, he wasn't sure how much it would take for Niki to open up to Reid again, if she even ever did. The plane ride home was awkward, Nikita purposefully sitting on the opposite side of the plane. JJ, Emily and Morgan sat with her. Reid was on the other end with Hotch and Rossi.
"What am I going to do?" Reid looked so hopeless.
"Tell her last night was the best night of your life" Rossi suggested cheekily, somehow managing to keep a straight face.
"What?" Reid was thoroughly confused.
"He's suggesting that you and Niki had sex" Hotch supplied for him.
"But we didn't…we might have if it wasn't that she was so religious…but we haven't"
"He knows" Hotch was well used to Reid's romantic ignorance.
"Oh, you were making a joke"
"Yes I was"
"But seriously, what am I supposed to do?"
"Flowers and after 3 wives, I should know"
"Flowers do work" Hotch affirmed.
"Black roses" Reid nodded to himself.
"Black?" Hotch glanced over at Nikita curiously.
"Black roses are her favourite."
The couple that fights the most is the one most in love... it shows they care enough to notice the other one screwed up and care enough to mention it to the person so they can fix it. When you stop fighting it means you stopped caring.
Shawna Waltemyer