"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞...𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐦𝐞."
-𝐀𝐲𝐧 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝
~ ~ ~
Dahlia has led a shitty life.
But one day, she's offered an opportunity to "be a part of somethin...
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~3~
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Dahlia's POV
My eyes fluttered open as I slowly regained feeling in my upper body. I felt remnants of my own drool on the side of my lips, meaning that I probably had a seizure.
Fantastic.
I tried to use my previously free hand to wipe it off, only to have my hand be dragged down by something rough and metal. I looked down with furrowed brows to see both of my hands handcuffed to a new table. This one was wooden.
"What the shit?" I slurred, twitching periodically from the tasers.
My attention was brought to the other side of the table when a cup of water was placed in my eye-line. I looked up to see Agent Morgan, Hotchner, and Reid all standing nearby.
I scoffed. "It's crazy, for the last 7 years, I've been doing your jobs for you, and this is how I'm repaid? Double handcuffs and half a cup of fucking water?" I joked.
The three injured and ego-bruised men looked at me with blank expressions.
"Logically speaking, it's kinda impossible for me to drink this with both my hands unavailable," I observed.
Derek shrugged. "You're so full of tricks, I think you'll figure something out."
I narrowed my eyes at the brown-skinned agent before leaning forward and using the side of my head to send the cup flying off the table. "Oops," I sang.
"How many are there?" Spencer vaguely questioned me.
"How many what?" I lied.
"How many victims that we don't know about, or bodies we haven't found?" the skinny doctor elaborated.
I laughed. Like a full-on set of cackles.
I honestly couldn't help it.
"Wait," my laughs slightly settled, "you people hit me with your car, then dig up my life and make me relive the worse time of my life, THEN the pigs tase me into unconsciousness...and now you're asking me to willingly give you information?" at the end of my statement I barked with laughter again. The BAU has officially lost their minds.
"Hey!" Derek shouted, bringing my laughter to a close, "if you cooperate with us, we might be able to get the death sentence off the table."
I raised a brow in question. "The death sentence isn't legal in DC," I explained.
