They had chased their unsub Timmy Abbcot for three days, trying to track him down before he could add anymore victims to his list. He ended up torturing and murdering six young women all through Washington. They finally caught him stalking a teacher at the local high school and hunted him down. Another successful case. After making sure the paperwork was complete and the case was closed, the team loaded back up onto the plane for home. It had been almost two weeks since the break in at Carter's apartment. It took them about a week to finally piece her place back to normal again, the team taking a few nights out of the week to pitch in and help. She provided dinner and drinks, so they were happy to help. Reid provided the most help, spending every spare moment he had going through the wreckage in search of anything else that had gone missing. It also gave them the excuse to spend the night at each other's apartments a couple of days a week. They enjoyed the company, the safety, the warmth of each other's presence, more than they ever thought they would.
"Good-morning love birds," Morgan winked when Reid and Carter walked in the next morning.
"Good-morning Morgan," Carter said with a smile and a middle finger, knocking him with her hip as she passed.
Just as Carter set her things down and made to sit however, Hotch's door opened. "Carter? Can I speak to you for a minute?"
Carter nodded before making her way up the stairs and into his office, Hotch closing the door behind her. "Is everything ok boss?"
Hotch lifted an envelope from his desk before gingerly handing it to her. "The senders didn't have a current address for you, so they sent it here."
"What is it?" she asked, ripping it open.
When she slid the card out she was greeted by a smiling man with salt and pepper hair and matching beard, the name Tim Wahl scribbled beautifully beneath it. There was a brief summary of the man's life including an address and time in bold where his funeral would be. At the sight of the last line in the obituary however, she felt her stomach boil: He left behind his only child and love in life, a daughter, Clara-Grace Wahl. "I'm sorry for your loss Carter."
"Wow. The old man finally kicked the bucket, huh?"
"Carter, I know you two didn't have the best relationship, but-"
"Hotch, do you know how I was initiated into the CIA? Not that bullshit in my file, but the real reason."
"Yes, I do," he sighed.
"Then you know there's no way in hell I'm going to the bastard's funeral."
Hotch nodded. "I know I can't force you to attend, but I think it would be better for you if you did."
"Thanks Hotch," Carter said before leaving his office.
Instead of throwing the damn thing away like she desperately wanted, her fingers held a death grip around the announcement. She hadn't thought about her father in years but the last few seconds she saw him was still burned into her memory, even if it was eight years ago. She attempted to even her breathing and diffuse her temper as she returned to her desk, tossing the crumpled card onto her keyboard. "Everything ok?" Morgan asked.
She nodded. "Nothing important, don't worry about it."
Before anyone else could press her more Garcia came out, her iPad tucked into her chest. "I hope you guys didn't have any early Valentine's Day plans," she said.
"You know it's still almost five days away right?" Callahan reminded her.
"God I hope we don't get a case that long," Carter groaned.
"Either way, I got early reservations for my beauty and me at that new place up in town," Morgan beamed.
"Hey, I enjoyed our double date last year," Garcia pouted.
"Best surprise I've ever had on Valentine's Day!"
"Liar," Garcia slapped his arm. "Come on, we've got a case." They filed into the conference room where JJ, Rossi, and Hotch were already waiting. Garcia tapped her iPad a few times before grabbing the remote and pressing a button, a blonde woman smiling back at them. "This is Autumn Acosta, a massage therapist in Brevard, North Carolina. She left her shift at the salon but disappeared as soon as she left the parking lot. An hour later her husband gets a phone call from her but, on the other line, he hears his wife screaming for help before she is bludgeoned to death. Police traced her phone but by the time they reached the crime scene, the unsub was gone."
"That's awful," Callahan gasped.
"That was a week and a half ago. Three more victims have died, their phones all recording the last few minutes of their life for their families to hear."
"My God, Delphine Zeta's six year old son answered the call. He heard the whole thing," JJ winced as she shook her head.
"This reminds me of the case in Florida back in 2006 where Amber Carnardo and her husband took turns brutally abducting, raping, torturing, and inevitably killing young teenage girls, all the while videotaping them to be sent to their families," Reid said.
"Lovely," Carter groaned.
"Brevard as requested our help and I do not want to disappoint. Wheels up in fifteen," Hotch announced.
They settled on the plane, Hotch, Rossi, Callahan, and JJ sitting around the table, Reid and Carter on the bench as Morgan leaned against the wall. "How did he kidnap these women? It looks like they all left their last known whereabouts in their vehicles."
"Could have cornered them at a pit stop, like the grocery store or gas station."
Hotch pressed a button on his laptop, Garcia's face appearing. "Hello my beautiful Brady Bunch!"
"Garcia, can you run a trace on all of our victims? See where they went after they were last seen by witnesses."
"Check surveillance, credit card history, anything you can find."
"Of course, I'll be back in a jiffy!"
"I still don't understand how the unsub didn't leave any form of trace behind. No fingerprints, no tire tracks, only a few boot prints. That's it," Rossi frowned.
"Gloves maybe?" JJ suggested.
"Whatever he does, this guy is skilled at covering his tracks. Not only does he perform the crime, call the families, take any evidence with him, but he's out before the police can even track the trace," Morgan said, flipping through his files.
"We'll need to do our own searching of the crime scenes and see if there are any of the phone calls on tape. JJ and Callahan why don't you interview the victims' families, Carter and Morgan check out the latest crime scene from yesterday, while Rossi, Reid, and I meet with Chief Harris at the station."
"Hey," Reid said once the team began to settle, "is everything ok? You seem a little tense."
Carter lifted her head, but every intention to lie her ass off went out the window. God, she'd lost her ability to duck and run with this kid….. She glanced around at the team to make sure they were preoccupied before she sighed and turned to face him. "My-uh-my dad died."
Reid immediately frowned. "Really? I'm-I'm sorry. When is his service? Do you need to take a day off to go?"
"I'm not going, Spencer."
"What? Why?"
Carter sharply shushed him, triple checking the team hadn't noticed before continuing. "My father and I fell out of touch when I joined the CIA. The last time I saw him I was sixteen years old."
"So it's been eight years since you last spoke?" Reid stared. "Why not still go though? Say your final good bye."
She couldn't help the laugh as she shook her head. "Because the last time I saw the man I was cursing his existence."
Reid went silent for a few moments. "I still think you should go Clara."
"Hotch said the same thing," she mumbled, sitting right against the bench. "I won't give that bastard the satisfaction of me showing up at his funeral like a lost puppy."
Before Reid could press her further however, Morgan approached them with another theory. One Reid immediately shut down with a five minute explanation as to why he was wrong. When they landed they split up and followed Hotch's directions. Morgan and Carter arrived where the latest victim, Lulu Greene, was found. It was a small field only a few miles from the gas station, but far enough nobody nearby could hear her screams. "Well, it definitely gave the unsub plenty of time to get away. It would have taken the police a while to find her with all of this brush in the way," Carter said.
"So we know he has a type: blonde and married with children. But why these specific women? How is he finding them?" Morgan questioned as he stood over where Lulu was found. "If he's been able to snatch them up from their places of work or their homes, he must be watching them, learning their schedules down to the last detail."
"Probably even going as far as watching her family too, that way he knows exactly when they'll all be home to receive the phone call," Carter added. "Do you think he picks these murder scenes or are they just chance spots?"
"Considering how precise he is with following his victims and learning their schedules, I highly doubt anything he does is by chance."
They were only able to stay on the site for another thirty minutes or so before the skies opened up and it started to rain. When they got back to the station, they had arrived just behind JJ and Callahan who were returning from their interviews with the families of the victims. "What did you learn?" Hotch asked.
"That all four of our victims were great mothers and wives," Callahan said. "All four women had hard-working jobs but they always found time to not only drop their kids off at school, but to pick them up and take them to their after-school activities."
"So grade-A mothers," Morgan clarified.
"We did however find one recording of the murder. Lulu Greene's husband had missed the killer's call while he was picking his son up from a late baseball game," JJ said. "He'll be in later today after he drops his son off at his grandmother's. They're both pretty shaken up."
Morgan's phone rang then. "Hey angel face, tell me you have something."
"I wish I could my handsome studmuffin but I'm afraid I've got nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"I have gone over security footage after security footage I have following all four victims from their last known whereabouts, but there's literally nothing. And I mean nothing," Garcia groaned. "All four make it to their neighborhoods before they disappear."
"How? Their cars were all found at different locations only a few miles from the crime scenes," Callahan said.
"Considering how the unsub knew their schedules, it wouldn't surprise me that the unsub knew where they lived too," Reid suggested.
"Have you found any kind of connections between these victims?" Rossi asked.
"Not one shred. Autumn grew up in California and only moved to North Carolina a few years ago for her husband's work at a law firm. Delphine Zeta was a cashier at a fashion boutique while her husband worked at the hardware store up the road. Kay Jeffery and her hus-excuse me, her partner Casey Forra own an adorable pet store, and Lulu Greene is a veterinarian assistant whose husband is a construction worker," she explained.
"Keep digging Garcia," Hotch ordered before Morgan hung up. "Carter see if you can find any clues in the victims cars out in the impound, Rossi come with me so we can speak with the chief, while the rest of you help Garcia try and find out this unsub's pattern."
"Yes sir."
As Carter searched mini-van after mini-van, she could definitely tell that these women and their kids practically lived in their vehicles. Spilled cheerios, coffee stains, stale French fries littered the mats and floor, fruit loops wedged in the seats. Carter couldn't help but imagine what her childhood would have been like; her mom racing around to get her kids to soccer practice and ballet class. Her dad would come home from work around the same time as practice ended, they'd have dinner around the table together, then get tucked into bed. That however was the complete opposite of the childhood she had. God, her father's stupid funeral invite was messing with her head! As she made to slide out of the back seat however, she spotted a dark blue fabric wedged under the front seat. As she pulled it out she realized it was a child's blazer, a patch sewn to the chest. "Mountain Sun?"
She slid her phone out of her pocket before dialing Garcia. "Welcome to the information master, what can I do for you my karate queen?"
"You just keep coming up with better nicknames, don't you?" Carter chuckled.
"Only for my favorites. What can I help with?"
"I found a school blazer in the back of Autumn's van and I have a feeling it's for a private school," Carter said. "What can you tell me about Mountain Sun?"
"Let's see here," Garcia's fingers flew. "It looks like Mountain Sun is a non-profit, independent, private school that teaches pre-school through 8th grade."
"All within the same grades as the victim's children possibly?"
Garcia was silent for a few seconds before she groaned. "I would tell you if the files were online. Private schools tend to be very picky with who can get to their information and usually keep only hard copies. Sorry wonder woman."
"No that's alright Garcia. It gives us something to go on. Thank you my computer queen."
"Anytime!"
Carter made her way back into the station then, blazer in hand. "So Garcia and I think we might have found our connection."
"What is it?" Hotch asked.
"I found this in the backseat of Autumn Acosta's van," she said, handing it to Morgan as he held his hand out.
"Mountain Sun?"
"It's a private school here in Brevard."
"You think that all of our victim's children attended the same private school?" Callahan asked.
"That'd be an extremely rare occurrence considering how the enrollments in private schools have declined in the past decade. Rising tuition fees and a sputtering economy might be some main reasons. During the 1999-2000 school year, the average tuition for a private high school was $6,053. By 2007, it was $10,549, according to government figures. This 74 percent increase far outpaced the inflation rate of about 24 percent between 1999 and 2007. Between 2001 and 2007, the total number of private schools fell 37,000 to 33,700," Reid explained.
"Well, that rare occurrence could be the key piece of our investigation. What did Garcia find?" Rossi asked.
"Turns out Mountain Sun likes to keep hard copies of all its files. And I mean that's all they keep of their files; I guess they're afraid that someone might hack into their student's private lives," Carter explained.
"Your kind of school Reid!" Morgan slapped his shoulder, almost knocking Reid out of his chair.
"That means, if this school really is our connection, then we're looking for someone on the inside," JJ realized.
Suddenly one of the officers walked into the room. "Hotchner? A Mr. Greene is here to see you."
"Of course, thank you." A shaky Mr. Greene joined them in the conference room, dark circles under the poor man's eyes. "Thank you for meeting us here. I know this isn't an easy thing for you."
"Whatever will help you find Lulu's killer," he muttered before reaching into his pocket and holding out his phone. "Here. The voicemail is-is already up."
"Mr. Greene, why don't you come with me? I don't think you want to be in here when they play it again," JJ coaxed, gently leading Mr. Greene away.
As soon they were gone, Hotch set the phone onto the table before pressing play. Almost instantly they were greeted by screams for help. There was a struggle, the sound of grass rustling the microphone of the phone. After about thirty seconds however there was a loud cracking sound, then another, before the screams fell eerily quiet. Then there was a brief rustling in the grass again before the voicemail ended. "Wow," Carter winced, subconsciously reaching out and squeezing Reid's shoulder.
"He doesn't spend much time with his victims before killing them does he?" Rossi shook his head.
"Whatever his M.O. is, it's all about the anger towards these victims," Morgan said.
"Wait a minute go back. Did you hear that? Right before the first crack," Callahan pointed out. Hotch rewound the recording before pressing play again. There were more screams and then there, quiet in the background, was another voice. "Right there, it sounds like the unsub says something."
Hotch dialed Garcia's number before pressing speaker. "Garcia, I am going to send you a voicemail and I need you to enhance a section of the audio."
"As you command my almighty leader." Her fingers clicked for a few seconds, her mouse clicking, before she cleared her throat. "Alright, where am I enhancing?"
"Right before the first strike of the blunt object," Rossi answered.
Garcia went to work before playing what they requested. Sure enough, there was the voice. It was only a few words that hadn't been muffled by the screams, but that was their unsub alright. "Irresponsible blood sucking housewife," Carter recited.
"Wow, whoever this is must have a vendetta against mothers," Morgan suggested.
"Or his own," Reid suggested. "What if these women are surrogates for his own mother?"
"Could be. I mean, with that much anger, you'd have to be on a personal vendetta against mothers to go to these lengths."
"The sooner we find out the better. Rossi, Carter, JJ, and I will go to the school and question the staff," Hotch said. "I'll inform the chief of our find."
Just as Carter made to follow however, Morgan gently grabbed her arm. "Carter, can I talk to you for a second?"
"Sure, what's up?"
"Look, I heard about your dad's funeral and-"
"What? How-who told you about that?" Carter's nerves twitched.
"Reid told us you aren't going."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, us? You all know?" Carter stared as the rest of the team nodded. "Wow, thanks a lot Reid!"
"Come on, don't get mad at him," Rossi intervened. "We just think it'd be a mental release for you to say good-bye to him, that's all."
"I will never say anything else to that man, not one damn word, dead or not," she grit out.
"Why not? I mean, you haven't seen him since you both signed off for you to be initiated into the CIA," JJ pressed. "It's been eight years."
Carter clenched her hands so tight her knuckles were white, desperately trying to ground herself. "Please, leave it alone."
As she made to leave again, Morgan stopped her. "Why can't you just take one day to say good-bye to your dad?"
Unable to control herself anymore Carter sharply turned around, eyes wild. "Do you want to know why I refuse to go to that son of a bitch's funeral? Because no father would ever sign their daughter, their only child, over to the CIA just to save his own ass. That agreement crap in my file is bullshit; they dragged me away while my dad signed that parental release all on his own," she spat. "So forgive me for not wanting to even acknowledge he ever existed!"
With that she spun on her heel and disappeared outside to the SUV, leaving a stunned room behind.
Carter was silent during the ride over to the school, the tension only growing. There was a reason Carter never talked about her past. There was a reason she avoided personal questions whenever the team asked. Her life had been a rollercoaster that sped through nightmare after nightmare and when she joined the BAU, she wanted to completely forget she was ever on that ride. The longer she stewed on her anger however the quicker it began to dissipate. When was she going to realize that secrets did more damage than good in a world like this? She needed her team to trust her, she needed to open up to them, even if it was one secret at a time. All they wanted was the best for her and if that meant poking at the lion, they'd face the claws head on. She just hoped they'd be prepared to hear it all someday.
When they arrived at the school they were immediately asked to sign in at the doors even despite their badges. They were led to the main office where an older woman wearing large purple glasses smiled at them. "Hello, how can I help you four today?"
"My name is Aaron Hotcher and we're with the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit."
"You must be here about the murders," she shook her head. "We've offered all we can to help not only the children but their families as well, even though it's only little for what they've gone through."
"Did all of their children attend this school?"
"Not all of their children, but at least one child from each parent yes. I couldn't believe it myself when I heard about it on the news," she shook her head. "What do you need to know agents?"
"What files do you keep on the children and their families?"
"Everything and anything we need to make sure that our students are taken care of and protected," the secretary explained. "Emergency contacts, allergies, after-school hobbies, parent work schedules, required medications-"
"Did you say work schedules?"
"Yes, we require all of the parents to inform us of their work hours, that way we know what parent would be the best to contact in case of an emergency."
The team exchanged a look. "Who has access to these files?" Rossi asked.
"Not many people. The Principal, Vice Principal, and I are the only ones with a key to the records room."
"We'll need to speak to both of them, please."
"I'm afraid the Vice Principal isn't here at the moment, and the principal is in a meeting, but I'll let you know as soon as they're free."
They all gave a nod before they exited out into the hallway, Hotch sharply removing his phone as soon as they were outside. "Garcia I need everything you can find on the Principal and Vice principal of Mountain Sun private school."
When he pressed speaker, Garcia let out a little hum. "Way ahead of you. It looks like Principal Stewart is spick and span and cleaner than a nun's spoon. And I don't mean that figuratively considering he went to a Catholic school through his entire life. The vice president Ronnie Greyson however has the spoon of a cannibal."
"How so?"
"It seems like he was tried for the murder of his mother, but because of the lack of evidence, the charges were dropped," she said. "Although-oh my-it looks like said mother was a very busy woman. Turns out she was very helpful to the other parents, the dads to be exact. And I don't mean PTA helpful."
"She had an affair," JJ said.
"Multiple affairs actually with multiple dad's at Ronnie's school. Her little secret came out when-dude, one of her special friend's called her husband and he heard the entirety of their nightly duties," Garcia shuddered. "Her husband wasn't the only one who was in the room however."
"Ronnie heard it all too," Rossi nodded. "That explains why he's targeting mothers at his school. They're surrogates for his own mother, and through killing them he's reliving the murder of his mother over and over again."
"Thanks Garcia," Hotch hung up. "Alright, we need to find the vice principal. JJ, Rossi-"as Hotch began to give directions however, Carter's ears twitched.
When she turned around she spotted a man in a dress shirt and tie walking across the parking lot, phone to his ear. As Carter listened to the brief conversation he was having, she realized where she recognized it from; it was the voice from the voicemail. Carter slapped Hotch's arm multiple times, increasing the intensity as VP got closer. Hotch finally caught on, but as soon as he turned around they had been spotted. The VP's phone immediately dropped from his hand and he was gone, Carter chasing after him. "FBI, freeze Mr. Greyson!" As she chased him around the school building, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ cut through it in hopes of cutting him off. They weaved their way through a group of students, almost toppling over multiple children, as he desperately made a dash for safety. Just as they reached the basketball courts JJ swung, clotheslining the man and sharply flooring him. "Nice one JJ!"
"Come on, I couldn't let you have all the fun," JJ grinned.
"Ronnie Greyson, you're under arrest for the murders of Autumn Acosta, Lulu Greene, Delphine Zeta, and Kay Jeffery," Rossi said as he slapped handcuffs onto the struggling man.
"I don't regret it you know," Ronnie laughed. "Those whores deserved what was coming to them. They can't get away with it anymore! I made sure of that!"
"None of the victims had had an affair right?" Carter asked as she watched Rossi and JJ drag him away.
"It's just part of his delusion," Hotch explained. "Come on."
After doing a check through of the records room, it turned out the files of the victims' children were missing. At least until they checked the vice principal's desk where they were found locked away in a bottom drawer. After informing the families and closing the case, they began to gather their things. "Clara?" Reid whispered.
"What?" Carter bit out as she slung her bag across her chest, not bothering to look up.
"I'm-I'm sorry for telling the team. I just-I didn't understand why you wouldn't go to his funeral, and I thought they could help convince you," he mumbled. "I'm sorry Clara. I really am."
"Yeah I know," Carter said as she ran her fingers through her hair with a frustrated sigh. "You were just trying to help. I just wished you would have kept it between you and me."
"I shouldn't have said anything." Reid was quiet for a few minutes, the guilt practically pouring off of him. "Are-are you ok?"
Carter nodded after a few seconds, finally turning to face him. "I'll get over it like usual. Come on, let's go."
The subject however, as much as she wanted it to die, didn't end there. Morgan and the rest of the team obviously wanted to know the whole story, all of them looking at each other in hopes one of them would have the guts to ask her again. Finally, after almost thirty minutes of being in the air and Hotch clearing his throat, Carter sighed before standing up. "I guess you guys deserve to know the truth after my blow up earlier."
"Please!" JJ groaned, Carter rolling her eyes.
She took a few seconds, chewing at her lip as she pulled at her hair. "When I was nine my mom died. She had gone to the grocery store after dropping me off at school when this kid came up demanding her car keys. My mom was barely able to get the keys from her purse when the kid shot her; cops think it was his first carjacking and nerves created a twitchy trigger finger. The guy was never caught though, and my dad kind of lost his mind after that. Kept telling everyone the world was going to end," she began.
"Your dad wasn't the only survivalist, was he?" Reid questioned.
"When I was ten we moved into the survivalist camp I grew up in. We were home schooled by a few of the adults there, but our days were mostly dedicated to training: learning how to fight, how to hunt, how to create weapons, tracking, first aid, the usual things you should know when the world ends. Little did I know but our camp leaders didn't just believe that the apocalypse was coming, they believed the Government would be the cause of it, and my dad was the number one preacher."
"He blamed the cold case of your mother's death on the government," Rossi said, Carter nodding.
"When I was sixteen the CIA and FBI raided our camp. I didn't know what was happening so, natural, I went into defense mode. Me and other members took a few men down, but we were outnumbered. They lined us all up, hand cuffing my dad and the other leaders. I had assumed we were all going to be arrested, the children removed, and so on. Instead, the director of the CIA offered my dad a deal," she said, jaw clenching. "He could go to jail for twenty to life for conspiracy to commit terrorism, or he could make a bargain. My dad would be released, his camp kept on a watch list, but in exchange the director wanted three things: two members of the camp, and me. Since I was the only one who was sixteen, all my dad had to do was sign over his custody of me and he'd go free."
"What?" Callahan stared. "He-I mean, your dad didn't agree with it did he?"
Carter couldn't help her smile. "I'd like to think that he would have fought tooth and nail for his only daughter, or at least do something besides sit there. Instead, my lovely father didn't even bat an eye as he shook the director's hand. They took me away kicking and screaming after that."
"But your file-it says there was an agreed signing of your initiation," JJ reminded them.
"The file was forged, that way there wouldn't be any more discussion on the matter in case someone tried to question it in the future," Hotch cut in. "I didn't learn that until a few months after I received her full file and met with the director himself, who has since retired."
"So basically it was a cover up," Rossi realized. "Typical CIA."
"I never spoke to him again after that. I had every chance to after I'd been with the CIA for a few years, but I was so angry that I cut all ties with him," Carter whispered, probably more to herself. "I never got an explanation as to why he did what he did, but I think he was so paranoid that he would have done anything to keep the government at bay."
"I'm-I'm sorry Carter," Morgan whispered.
Carter shrugged. "I've been so angry about it that I haven't really thought of the positives. Sure, working for the CIA was-difficult, but I was able to travel the world. They shaped the skills I already had and made me deadlier, and without that I would have never been asked to join the BAU. And if I had never joined the BAU then I'd never have met any of you. Despite how cold and distant I was you guys still accepted me and treated me like family. A family I hadn't had in years, so I thank you. I am who I am now because you guys opened me up; made me laugh, made me smile, joined me into things I'd never experienced before," she said, giving a small smile. "So, as angry as I've been with my dad, in the end it all happened for a reason."
"We're glad you joined the team too, Carter," Rossi smiled. "Now, how about we break open that scotch I know Morgan has hidden on the plane somewhere and have a toast to family?"
Morgan sat in silence for a few seconds, but at the feeling of Rossi's death glare he finally got up. "Fine, fine!"
Carter finally sat back down next to Reid then with a long sigh, her head throbbing. As much of a relief as that was, it still sucked. "I'm sorry," Reid whispered. "I didn't-I didn't know it was that bad."
"Yeah but like I said. If he hadn't given me up to the CIA, I'd never have joined the BAU, and I'd never have met any of the team," she said. "I wouldn't have met you."
Reid's cheeks flushed as he gently took her hand between his. "I'm glad you joined the team too, Clara."
They sat there for a few minutes, watching as Morgan handed glasses out to everyone. "Spencer? Will-will you come with me to the funeral?"
"You're going to go?"
"Only if you come with me."
"Of course I will, whatever you need."
On the day of the funeral, Carter was surprised when the entire team showed up to join her. Tim Wahl was being put to rest in a graveyard not too far from the old survivalist camp, multiple members immediately recognizing her as she approached, none dare saying a word. Carter's hand was tight in Reid's as the team followed behind them, everyone slowly moving out of their way as they made their way up front. They stood around for the sermon and burial, Carter watching as they began to lower the casket down. She gently lifted the rose she had been clutching at her side, letting it spin between her fingers. "I know the last time we saw each other was shitty, but I want you to know that I never really hated you. I was angry and hurt, but you were my dad. In the end it's exactly what I needed," she said softly. "Good-bye, dad. Say hi to mom up there for me, ok?"
Then, she tossed the rose in after him.