2.5

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" Don't bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself. "

William Faulkner


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2.5 ; HEIRLOOM.


CAROLINE SLOWLY LOWERED HERSELF into the plush leather seat of the BAU's jet, tossing her bags carelessly in the chair beside her. She sighed tiredly, leaning back and closed her eyes, trying to get a moment's rest. Besides her and the captain of the jet, tucked away in the cockpit of the running plane, the jet was empty and completely silent. She had gotten here earlier than planned, but she needed a moment to clear her head.

After Clara was arrested, they placed her in a mental hospital while awaiting her trial. She didn't know what would happen to the girl, but whatever it was, she hoped it wasn't too cruel of a fate. Despite the fact that Clara Hayes killed two people, she just needed some help. And if she had received it, a feeling taunted Caroline that Clara could've been saved from whatever her life has become now.

And on top of that, it was still Caitlin's birthday—at least for a couple more hours. Unless Caroline could get to her aunt's house the moment she lands, there was no way she could make it. She was going to miss her sister's birthday. The very thought of it made her stomach churn.

The sound of someone walking up the steel steps, their shoes clicking the metal loudly as the person boarded the empty plane, caused her to finally stir. Caroline opened her eyes reluctantly, groaning as she turned around in her seat at the new arrival.

There goes peace and quiet, she thought to herself, shaking her head. Then again, with a team like hers, she didn't get much quiet.

Gideon appeared in the aisle of the jet, carrying his small go-bag strapped across his shoulders. He saw her turned in her seat, watching him, and he gave the younger girl and small smile as he sunk down in the seat across from her. He didn't say a word to her as he settled in.

Caroline bit her lip, watching for a split second more before breaking the silence.

"You know, I figured it out." She told him. "The stutter."

He raised his eyebrows up at her, curious. "You know why the Footpath Killer stuttered?"

"When we were talking earlier, that's when I got it. I told you and Hotch that I was just trying to stall Clara."

"Right."

"Well, that's it, isn't it? The Footpath Killer—you were just trying to stall him." She explained, giving him a smile. "You said, 'I know why you stutter' because you were buying time. You were stalling, but you don't really know why he stutters."

1 | 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄  ⭃  Spencer ReidWhere stories live. Discover now