Okay, so almost nothing about Reid here. I'm very sorry =/=

This chapter is in response to last chapter, taking it back to why they started to talk to each other.

I Know, I Know,

I'm a horrible person...

DEAL WITH IT! Please ^/^

~I do not own criminal minds~

Point of View: User Name; Sweet Nightmare

"Dreams have only one owner at a time. That's why dreamers are lonely." - Erma Bombeck

*4 months back*

The moment I walked out of Ms. Roberson's class I was mentally and physically dead. The lone walk to Ignite, a small internet café, always seemed to calm my nerves after a long lesson in criminology, criminal justice, forensics and psychology. At my age, most young adults in Chicago go out drinking and partying. The Chicago School of Professional Psychology sadly never let allowed me to have such enjoyable times. With the constant amount of work I was doing, I was surprised I haven't lost ½ of my body fat due to me consuming a big container of coffee and a 50 cent muffin for breakfast and a cup of instant ramen noodles for dinner. It wasn't my fault; blame collage.

Plopping my messenger bag on the chair next to me never felt so… magnificent. I smiled at myself as I deliberately grabbed and plopped my bag over and over again on the chair till a bunch of high school kids giggled and pointed. I puffed up my cheeks and set my bag down and slumped in the chair. This is what I hated about Chicago and people in general. They were always quick to judge you and well, the purple streaks in my hair and dark eyeliner didn't exactly give off the 'normal adult' vibe most adults gave.

I sighed and pulled out the one thing always right in my world; my back laptop. I smiled to myself as photos of me and my best friend flooded on my desktop but as soon as it came, my smile was gone. Things like this always got to me. Photos of memories now gone and the idea's of dreams never accomplished seemed to always bring my day just a little lower then usual. Maybe it was my fault for being so warm hearted that those thing always got to me, but to me that never seemed like a bad thing to me.

I sighed to myself and logged into the school campus website. 'Underground Web' the people who designed the page called it. 'Very original' I said to myself as I log into my personal user profile. I rubbed my temples and again sighed as I took out my homework. My final paper for the class was to answer the question's 'What was Beccaria's general criticism of the justice system of his time' and 'According to Beccaria, what is the purpose of punishment?' in a 5 page essay format. I groaned and banged my head on the desk and cursed my laziness. Unknowingly during the time we had went over this in a lesson, I was in one of my 'screw-this-I-wont-need-to-know-this-for-my-final' moods. Clearly, I was very wrong.

I entered a chat room, hoping I would run into the total nerds who knew each lesson by heart. My heart sank down to the ground when I saw the ne thing that could possible ruin any chance starting the essay.

'One user online'.

I squinted my eyes shut in frustration, guessing that this person that called themselves "D.S.R" wasn't very bright, let alone creative. I took in a deep breath and began typing away, just simply asking if he knew anything about my homework. Little did I know he remembered each and every fact about the subject and was glad to help me.

*Present time*

"Never make a defense or apology before you be accused."

"You're going easy on me D.S.R, That's a quote from Charles I."

"It's irrelevant on who created the quote S.N; it is the fact how humiliatingly true that quote is."

"There are many quotes in this world that are humiliatingly true; it just depends on the situation."

"May you bless my day by telling me one that you fallow by?"

"That's easy; there are no mistakes in life… Only lessons"

I typed back with a smile, knowing this guy would come back with a witty comment in any time. The man that called himself 'D.S.R.' was a very interesting individual. His horrible yet hilarious jokes, his constant rants about his co-worker D.M. and even his funny way of trying to figure out a real stupid joke about twilight was interesting (and very amusing.)

I continued to talk to him after my written essay and even after I graduated from Chicago School of Professional Psychology. Somehow, we always kept in touch. He would tell me about his day, leaving out his job personally though that was most of his life from what I could tell. He constantly talks about his co-workers, how they were always making fun of him in cruel but reasonable ways. He always seemed to have fun at work, enough I still didn't know what he did for a living.

"If you conceder all mistakes are lessons, you are at the mercy of the educational system, don't you think?" popped out on to my desk top. I shook my head to myself and started to type my response. He was going to get a small kick out of this.

"If we go to school to learn, and knowledge is power and power is corrupt and corruption is crime and crime doesn't pay then why the hell do we go to school?" I wrote and smiled when he delayed his response. When I wrote something childishly witty, he normally took a minute or two to laugh and think of a response.

I yawned and stood up from where I was sitting and went to check the mail. I normally came back with bill and bill but this time, I was greeted with a big yellow envelope. The weight of the envelope was heavy and hard to hold. Finally coming to the conclusion that I was accepted to the intern job I applied over a month ago, I completely flipped. I jumped up and down, squalling my little heart out and ripped the top of the envelop to hold the top page of stack

'Dear Ms. Underwood.

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to be Aaron Hotchner's new intern…"

I re-read that line well over 20 times, glancing at the paper then at my computer screen. I needed to tell D.S.R. He was the sole reason I had the guts to summit my application. With his constant spamming of e-mails listed 'Summit you application' overwhelming my inbox, I sent it like he had instructed me to.

I smiled at the screen and began to type:

"Hey, D.S.R. You won't believe this… I was accepted at the firm I was aiming for… I'm moving to Washington DC next week to start my dream job :)"

*send*

Her last name is Underwood.. Any names come to mind for the first? Message me!

Love: Nessa