Battlecry | Criminal Minds (gxg)

Chapter 21

~Present Day, June, 2010~

Carli's POV

24 hours is not enough. Not enough time to express to her how much I love her. Even with her by my side for every moment of the day, even with our bodies intertwined for most of it, it's not enough.

But how can it ever be enough when you know the clock is counting down?

The next morning comes too fast. There's a weight to the air, like a warning. Soon, it whispers. Soon.

It's a quiet morning at our apartment, emotions exchanged by long glances and gentle touches. Just before we leave I find myself alone in our bedroom, grabbing something Elle forgot.

I take a long look around; the bed, stripped bare because the sheets desperately needed to be washed. Her nightstand on her side, mine on the other, the book I bought her last week on her pillow. A framed photo of the two of us on my table. It's recent, from the past year, but not recent enough to see the weariness in my expression.

"C, are you coming?"

I turn around to find Elle at the top of the stairs, bag hanging off one arm and a sad frown touching her lips. I force a smile to my own and come to her side, hand slipping into hers. I give her palm a squeeze, and she squeezes back.

"We don't know for sure," she tries to reason on the way out. "It could happen weeks from now."

I just give a short nod, letting her pretend. We both know the truth—something's coming. It feels like we're just waiting for the signal.

I've hardly said a word by the time we get to work. In the elevator, just before the doors open, I give her a slow kiss. When we separate, she smiles. "What was that for?"

I peck the corner of her mouth. "Just to... last the day," I say slowly.

As the doors slide open, she raises an eyebrow. "That better not be my only kiss today, D'angelo," she says as she turns away.

Smiling despite myself, I follow her.

---

It takes just under an hour before Hotch calls us into the round table for a case. I wait for Elle to join me before heading that way, my hand finding the small of her back.

When I'm near her, it feels necessary to touch her. Not just to feel her, but to be connected, in a way. Like I can't let go. So whether it's holding hands, or her holding onto the crook of my elbow, or my hand on her thigh, I just want to let her know how much it means to me to have her beside me.

JJ hands us the case files as we step inside the door. I drop into my chair with a light sigh. At least we'll have something new to worry about. I flip through the pictures in the folder as JJ explains the M.O.

"Stabbed multiple times through the abdomen, our victim is a woman in her early thirties, named Olivia Randall. She was reported missing two weeks ago and her body was found this morning." As she talks, JJ pulls up a photo of the victim. Brown hair, dark eyes, looks to be my age.

"Kinda looks like you," Morgan comments, tapping me on the leg.

Elle tilts her head to the side. "I don't see it."

"Died of exsanguination from the stab wounds," JJ goes on. "Lesions on her wrists from being held, and the signature is interesting with this one."

"What do you mean?" Spencer asks.

"Well, it's—"

The pen I'm holding falls to the table, where it clatters and drops to the floor. I hardly take notice. My eyes are glued to the image in front of me, the last photo of the case file.