[CriminalMinds] I'm Afraid I Still Don't Know [Dr.SpencerReid]

Two.

Officer Brayden Willow’s Point of View

Chewing on my lower lip, I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans, cocking my head to the side, trying to understand what I simply don’t get. If this is all out of love, what is she saving these girls from? There’s no blood spatter. She’s a clean killer, definitely a neat freak. “I just don’t see the connection with the girls. They don’t know each other. They don’t look like each other. They're not of the same ethnicity or religion.” I don’t really know who I'm talking to, I know that there are a few people around me, looking at the board as well, but no one answers.

I don’t really expect them to, it was more of a rhetorical question at this point, none of us can answer the question. Not yet anyway, and that terrifies all of us, because there’s no way to determine the next victim. It’s been hell keeping this out of the hands of the press, and I don’t know how much longer we’re going to have until someone hears about the story and it leaks. But, it can’t, she’ll break and start killing out of hate instead of love, and if she’s capable of killing out of love, her kills done with hate will be much more gruesome and deadly.

“Brayden, they're parking outside.” I know exactly who Bailey is referring to, but I still don’t know why they're here, because I certainly didn’t ask them to come and my boss wouldn’t have the balls to do something like that without coming to me first. There’s something about them, about them coming in and thinking that they have the right to take over my case, take all the work my team has done and they say they're responsible for how hard we’ve worked, it pisses me off. And they're all so stubborn and stuck up that they would never listen to the theory that the unsub is a female.

Rolling my eyes, I loll my head backwards, wanting to freak out, but knowing that it’s not professional, although no one on this team would care, we’re all family. It’s awesome, knowing that this team is my family, because we all work together, for hours on end, and we’re always invited to family get-togethers. I chose everyone here, and I try really hard to not act as the superior, because without them nothing would get done, they're just as important as I am to this team. “Someone go and keep them occupied. This is getting ridiculous. Who asked them to help? I'm being completely serious. If you tell me now I won’t suspend you.”

It’s funny, because I would never suspend someone and they all know that, they’re all way too valuable, especially with a serial killer on the loose. “Listen, we’re getting nowhere with this case. We know that the unsub is a female who kills out of love and all the other characteristics you’ve come up with. There’s barely any evidence at the crime scenes besides the blunt objects used to knock the victims unconscious.” I want to punch Kevin in the face, I really do, but he has a family, he has kids and a wife, and I know that cases like this take away from his family time, because even when he’s home he’s thinking about what’s going on at work.

“This is our case.” I want to sound upset, angry, I really do, but I can’t, because this is too much, way too much for me. I can’t have people breathing down my neck and trying to tell me that I'm looking for the wrong unsub when I know, I know it’s a female, a male doesn’t have that much compassion when the victim is alive. “Just make sure that they know that and you know that, because we’ve done the work and we’re going to find her.” Without another word or glance at the faces surrounding me, I walk into my office, shutting the door, trying to not slam it shut, but wanting to so badly.

I've worked so hard to get here, to get to where I am, to be in charge, to have this team and all the leeway we have. From schools and internships and jobs, it’s been never-ending to get here and this is how everyone repays me. I'm sorry this isn't the shows on the television, but it takes a little more than a week to catch a goddamn serial killer. That doesn’t mean that we need the FBI to come and help us with this. I don’t need them and they don’t need to be here and they don’t need to be all up in my building.

Cracking my knuckles, I look up as the man from before knocks on the door, it’s a glass door, and I can’t pretend to be busy because he can see that I'm not doing anything other than sitting on my ass. “Yeah, come in.” Pushing myself back in the office chair, I lean forward, opening the small fridge under it, pulling out a water bottle. “How can I help you, Agent?”

Opening his mouth to say something, he closes it, his brown eyes looking across the room at all the pictures and degrees hanging up on the wall. It’s the handsome one from before. I don’t like him. Clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair, before whispering, “It’s Doctor, Doctor Spencer Reid.”