Chapter One: Initials Please
"People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but it's the way you live your life that matters." -Cassandra Clare
The day started uncomplicated, just a day to finish up on paperwork as they waited for a case. Reid had overheard JJ talking about two murders in Quantico earlier, but they hadn't been brought up again so the young doctor had dismissed it.
Rubbing at his face, Reid tried to get rid of his migraine for what hundredth time that day. He was at work, and him having a headache was not something he wanted everyone to notice. So far only Emily and Morgan knew about the migraines, and they'd both sworn to secrecy. Well, Emily had, Reid just hoped Morgan had the decorum to keep quiet about the matter.
Squinting at the bright office lights, the young man massaged his head as he continued to try and read the papers for the last case. The pain didn't go away and he ended up having to close his eyes to shield his sensitive eyes from the lights.
It sort of helped, until somebody tapped on his shoulder. He flinched and whisked around to see who it was. He rubbed at his eye before his gaze narrowed at Morgan. "What?"
"Sleeping on the job?" Derek looked over Reid's shoulder at the papers and blew out a breath. "Well, I can't blame you."
"Let him work, Morgan," Spencer heard JJ comment. Reid nodded in agreement. Yeah, work. That's what he was doing. Or- trying to at least.
Morgan threw his hands up, eyes widening like that was the most bizarre thing he'd heard all day. "He wasn't even working!" he complained teasingly. Giving Reid's shoulder a nudge with his elbow and falling back into his own chair. "Seriously though, no cases yet? I haven't had a break like this in forever."
"You haven't had a break like this in three months and eight days, that's hardly forever." Reid retorted, closing his folder after giving up on working. He'd work when his migraine went away. He just hoped it was soon, the young man had already had it for… something along the lines of thirteen hours.
The older agent let out a huff, rolling his eyes and leaning back into his chair. "And how long did that break last?"
"Four hours and thirty-six minutes."
"Yeah, so I haven't had a good break in forever. Four hours is hardly enough time to do nothing."
Spencer flashed him a confused look, Morgan returned it with an amused grin. Realizing that the other agent was joking, Reid shook his head, smiling slightly. Before he could comment about how ridiculous Morgan was, Emily stepped into the room, her face paler than usual. Was that mean to think? "What's wrong?" Spencer asked, ignoring the twitching feeling of pain and focusing his attention on the woman.
"A body was just dumped on the ground, just outside of the building," Emily looked a touch dazed, and it was here that Reid noticed that her hands were crimson with blood. "She… she was alive. I tried-" As JJ and Reid rushed over, Prentiss seemed to notice the piece of paper in her hand. Her face twisted as she remembered something. "She was holding this."
JJ took it from Emily, giving it to Reid before leading the woman to the bathroom to wash her hands. Holding the bloody paper, Reid watched Emily leave with a concerned look before Morgan appeared beside him.
"What's on it?"
Unfolding the piece of paper, Reid squinted to read the words. "Names," he replied. "And places. We need to get this Hotch."
Not even an hour had passed before everyone was gathered in the conference room. Emily had calmed down, though she still looked disturbed. Apparently, the victim had only been a teenager. No wonder Emily had been so troubled.
While his migraine was subduing, it was being replaced with paranoia. Whoever had hurt that young woman, was threatening the BAU by leaving the body so close to the building. And yet not close enough because the cameras had caught nothing.
As Garcia rushed to the center of the room, she began clicking through pictures. "Okay, so I've searched up all the names on the list," she clicked on the remote a bit more, two new faces appeared on the screen. "Seven females, ages twenty to thirty-five have died in the past month."
"How did we not know about this?" Rossi asked, examining the victims' pictures. Reid couldn't find any major connecting things between them. The killer crossed racial lines, and there didn't seem to be a type, other than females.
"They all died in different states. Well- most of them-" Garcia turned to point at the two newer photos. "These two were both found here in Quantico. But here's where things get chilling." Penelope switched to a next slide, where the crime scene photos were shown. A cold shiver ran down Spencer's spine.
There were initials in each picture. Painted in blood, carved into a palm, written on a piece of paper, it was different for each crime scene.
PG, SP, DM, JJ, AH, DR, EP.
Everyone soon noticed the same thing.
"They're our initials. The unsub is targeting us," Hotch murmured. Reid glanced over to see the unit chief's eyes narrow in cold, focused anger. He didn't have to say it, but everyone in the room knew what was going to happen. They were taking the case. If the unsub was targeting the BAU, none of them were safe.
Morgan made a quiet comment about how he knew a case would come up, but it was clear not even he found it funny.
"Where were the bodies found?" Emily asked, speaking for the first time since JJ had helped her clean up. "You said all over the US, but I'm pretty sure nothing this guy does is adventitious or insignificant."
Garcia gave a small nod. "Catherine Qualls was found in a San Francisco cemetery, Diana Smith outside a Las Vegas hospital, Mia Hart in a Chicago football field, Wilma Summers in an East Allegheny forest, Danielle Cairn by a law firm in Manassas," she took a deep breath. "Ellie Hanson and Rachel Guster were found here, in Quantico."
A silence hung in the room.
"I'm gonna skin this sonuvabitch," Morgan growled. Any trace of amusement had been replaced with a seriously pissed off look.
The cemetery was important to Garcia, the Vegas hospital was important to Reid, the football field to Morgan, the forest to JJ, and the law firm to Hotch. The unsub knew about them. Knew where they all lived and knew their weaknesses. Reid winced when he realized that the second victim, the one from Vegas, shared a first name with his mom. "He knows about my mom…" he whispered.
Emily glanced over at the young doctor and her face softened. "He knows about us all but I don't think… I don't think he'll go after our families."
"He won't if we catch him first," Hotch concluded, standing up. "We'll stay in Quantico, most of his kills have been here. His newest too. Let's get to work."
For two days, the team learned everything they could about who they thought the unsub had to be.
Their profile? A man, probably in his late thirties, early forties. Capable of holding a good job, but most likely not working due to his ability to be able to travel to all of the places he did. He has some money, either from savings or somebody is helping him, as he's able to travel across the United States. Most likely non-threatening and healthy. Very goal orientated. Diana Smith had been a very fit woman and boxed for a living. It would've been easier to go for anybody else, but he couldn't resist the urge to kill someone with a name that hit home for Reid. Which brought up the main thing; this man wanted to destroy the BAU.
Garcia had discovered that if he'd flown everywhere, he did it in a way that there were no records of it. So either he snuck onto an airplane or the more likely scenario- he drove. So he had a license, owned a car. There was also that less common idea that he was a trucker of some sort, but nothing Garcia had found recorded a trucker driving to those exact places.
Nobody had slept well. The unsub knew everything about them, so how could they? Most of them were running on the sheer need to catch the unsub or one to four hours of sleep.
Reid had found that it was easier to not fight the inability to sleep. He just stayed up as late as he could reading, his gun at his side until he eventually passed out. Sometimes it backfired though, because, at the moment, the young doctor hadn't slept in a day.
As Morgan and Reid headed out of the BAU headquarters, there was a gunshot. They weren't sure where it had come from, but then there was another. A woman screamed for help and Morgan darted toward it. Spencer held his gun tightly in his hands and raced after Derek.
Another gunshot.
This one hit Reid. His leg gave way beneath him, and he fell to the ground, face slamming against the hard parking lot ground. At the shot, Spencer's gun had been knocked out of his hands, and he desperately tried to limp over to it. "Morgan!" he shouted.
"Don't yell, agent. Save your voice," somebody sneered.
Reid whipped around to see who had spoken, but the barrel of a gun hit him across the head and he crumpled to the ground before he could gather anything important. He let out a pained groan as the unsub scooped him up and put him onto something cold and firm.
The last he remembered was feeling the rumble of a car engine before slipping out of consciousness.
"Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect." -Margaret Mitchell
A/N: New book! This will be a longer book, but I'm sure how chapters I'm guessing. There will be no main character death. This takes place around the middle/end of season seven. JJ never left, Emily never "died" and Maeve may or may not make an appearance.