Reid stepped forward. "Officer Warren, she didn't do anyth—"

"It's none of your business," the irate cop spat, turning on Reid. "You have no idea what people like her," he thumbed at Chloe, "or Worth, or Gilman have done to me, or done to my father."

"But killing them isn't the answer," Reid said hurriedly, stepping toward him. "I—if you go to jail for murder, nobody will ever hear about what horrible things they did to you."

"He's right," JJ said, shifting her weight toward the two men. "All anyone will see is that you murdered a 19-year-old girl."

Warren looked hard at the two of them, and back at Chloe, who had began a minuscule tremble.

"Nobody would miss her, you know," Warren said evenly. "If she had a family, she wouldn't be your roadie. If she had friends, she wouldn't spend her time drudging up crap about other people for entertainment."

"We would miss her," Reid said, "and once the world finds out about what you did—"

"Nobody would miss you much, either," Warren cut him off. "Either one of you," he glanced at JJ. "Blondie's nothing but the leak to the press, and I've seen the way the rest of those F.B.I. guys look at you." Reid swallowed hard. "You annoy them. You're weak." He stepped toward the thin agent. "They'd find another socially inept geek soon enough."

Reid shook his head weakly. "I—I don't—"

"You just don't realize how useless you are," Warren said, nudging Reid's chest with the cold barrel of the revolver. "Once you're gone, nobody will even notice that there's no human encyclopedia drabbling in the corner."

In the split second that it took Warren to consider what he was about to do, Chloe leapt off the chair, wrapping her thin arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Warren screamed, and in his moment of panic, Reid darted aside, pushing himself and JJ out of the path of the gun. Warren whipped it around as he struggled against the girl on his back, cursing and roaring as she tightened her elbow around his throat and closed her teeth around his left earlobe.

Warren gathered his bearings somewhat, and quickly slammed backward into the brick wall. Chloe let out a pained grunt, but didn't let go. Warren's left hand grabbed a fistful of Chloe's dark, shiny hair, and he yanked hard to distract her enough to let go. When it failed, he dropped the revolved in an attempt to free his throat from her bony elbow, and slammed her against the wall again—hard.

The force caused her head to fall back, and when the base of her skull made audible contact with the brick, her grip loosened. Warren spun around quickly, drawing Reid's gun out of his belt and turning on the semi-conscious girl.

"Don't do it, Warren," Reid said, standing painfully close to the officer as he had somehow gotten ahold of the discarded revolver amid the chaos. "Drop the gun, and put your hands on your head." JJ crawled over to Chloe behind Warren, and began checking for vital signs.

"Ain't nobody gonna care if she never gets up," he said, wiping spittle off his mouth with his free hand.

"If you take one step toward her," Reid said, moving closer to the girl, "I'll have to kill you, and nobody will be here to tell your side of the story."

Warren paused, considered this. "And if I go out quietly, I'll be able to tell everybody what really happened?"

"I swear to you," Reid said quietly, "if you put the gun down, your story will be told."

Warren looked away, squinted slightly, and made his decision. With a hollow thud, Reid's pistol landed on the floor a couple feet away.

"And JJ's gun," Reid reminded him. A second thud echoed in the tiny police department as Reid quickly moved over and handcuffed Warren, guiding him over to the chairs that he had begun to wrestle with Chloe near only moments earlier.

Chloe sat up, bringing her hands to her head. "Oh, my God."

JJ rubbed the girl's shoulder. "Chloe, why would you do something like that?"

"Yeah," Reid said admonishingly, squatting down beside the two of them. "You could've been killed—what's the matter with you?"

She gave a small smile. "Never let someone tell you you're useless."

Reid smiled back, reaching forward to squeeze her hand in gratitude. "Thanks a lot, but I'm going to go call 911 now." She nodded minutely, and he stood to brandish his cell.

"You know, I don't think prisoners can publish their own stories," JJ mused to Reid from the floor.

"Yeah, I think you're right," Reid looked over at the murderer. "Maybe you can hire a writer to come in and tell your story for you."