𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒, spencer reid

⠀ four. everybody's a suspect

Get cleaned up.

The nurses had done the best they could with their wipes and their towels but Nancy could still feel it.

Blood.

Not her own. Eddies. The cops this new unsub had slaughtered. Maybe even blood from the unsub himself. It stained her palms like a crimson tattoo that no soap, no water could rid her from. Fingertips scrubbed idly under steaming water as Nancy's eyes fluttered up to meet her own. She stared down her reflection as though face to face with an enemy, unsure if her mind was playing tricks or if blood splatters truly were painted across her cheeks as well.

She looked down once again to find nothing has changed. The water ran clear and yet still no blood had been washed from her hands. Panic began to set in.

Was she losing her damn mind?

Soap be damned she'd clean the marks from her hands. Thumb digging into her palm, Nancy's nail scraped between the creases in desperation. It hurt, but she didn't care. She'd stopped caring the second she set foot in that bathroom. She'd hardly been paying attention to how long she'd been in there, washing her blood-stained hands. It wasn't until a low, yet somewhat drained, voice tore her from her daydream she realized just how much damage she had done.

"Chavez!" Nancy flinched back into reality, hands still frozen under the water as her eyes darted up to meet Agent Hotchner's concerned gaze, "They're clean," confused, Nancy's eyes flickered back to her stinging palms. Steaming water had turned her palms pink but the blood that, moments ago, she feared would never be gone, had indeed washed away. The young agent's embarrassment was evident in the overly aggressive manner in which her palm slammed the faucet shut.

Loud noise waking her snoring friend, Lexi jolted upright, eyes squinting from the sunbeams blinding her, "I'm up!" Nancy couldn't help but let out a fond chuckle, watching as the embarrassed young lady brushed her hand through her tangled hair. But soon enough, the Chavez girl went back to business, an ice-like expression shot toward the sympathetic unit chief.

"I wanna see my brothers," demanded the wincing agent. Apparently, the little respect for authority she had was out the window the second whatever pain meds she'd been given had started to wear off.

"We need to talk first," Hotch insisted, eyes following Nancy from the bathroom as she began searching, with little caution for her stitches, for the clean clothes she'd been promised, "Alone," he suddenly, and rather suspiciously, added, eyes glancing from the agent to her friend still sitting innocently at the side of the bed.

Growing rather defensive at the underlying accusation, Nancy's eyes narrowed as she stood in place, "Anything you can say in front of me, you can say in front of her," Lexi's brows furrowed as she, although pleased to be defended by her friend, seemed to have an issue with her statement.

"I just wanna add that... I am aware that's not how the law works so..." Nancy whirled around to glare at her friend, silently pleading with her to stop talking, "If I've gotta leave cause, you know, FBI..." Lexi suddenly trailed off, realizing she didn't actually know the terminology, "Serial killer... mission confidentiality-"

"Whose side are you on?" Nancy interrupted with a rather confused frown.

"The... legal one?" questioned Lexi with a confused shrug. Nancy sighed, simply extending a hand toward her friend, unsure whether she would interpret it as shut up or don't move (although either would be correct). Focus back on Hotch, Nancy placed her hands on her waist, fearing that folding them would open a stitch.

"I told you everything that I can remember," continued the young agent.

"That's not what we need to talk about," the unit chief insisted, arms folded across his chest. This got Nancy's attention. She stood upright, eyes narrowed in adolescent-like disbelief, "You need to take it easy,"