2 months. That's how long the BAU had been going without their best Agents and fellow family. After being suspended, Cassidy and Spencer waited patiently for their suspension to be lifted, even if it meant that one or both of them wouldn't be returning to the BAU.
As expected, even though Cassidy and Spencer weren't around, they had no choice but to continue on with cases. So, late at night, with the thunder rumbling outside, Hotch stood outside the interrogation room, a file in his hands as he and Rossi looked at the man who sat at the metal table, confused.
"Look, there's been some kind of misunderstanding, all right? I'm innocent! I didn't- I- I couldn't do this!" The man yelled as he slammed his fists against the table.
"Will someone please listen to me?!" He yelled out again, starting to cry.
"I'm Agent Hotchner, Mr. Merrin. Have you been advised of your rights?" Hotch introduced himself to Mr. Merrin, who exhaled.
"Yeah." He nodded.
"Do you know where you are?" Hotch asked, putting the file onto the table.
"Some FBI place, right?" He shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes.
"You're at the Behavioural Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. You know why you're here?" Hotch asked, watching Mr. Merrin's behaviour. He was worried. Confused. Nervous. He wasn't nervous about them thinking that he was guilty. He was nervous about them not believing that he wasn't guilty.
"Because you think I'm a killer." He croaked out, trying not to cry.
"Are you a killer?" Hotch tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowed.
"No. Why won't anybody believe me? I am not-" The man started freaking out, standing up from the chair he was sitting on.
"Stop." Hotch silenced the man, glaring at him.
"Sit down. Take a deep breath." He calmed his voice and looked at the terrified man, watching as he did as he was told. He sat back down, took a few deep breaths in and out, and cleared his throat. He rubbed his eyes and wiped his tears away.
"I want you to tell me exactly what happened two nights ago. Don't leave anything out. Can you do that?" Hotch sat down, watching as the man looked around, his hands starting to shake.
"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. So, uh, me and...me and my wife Tabitha, we were getting ready for bed and she says..." Mr. Merrin started, exhaling. He was clearly distressed. As asked, he told Hotch exactly what happened.
"So I did. I checked the front door and it was fine. Everything was fine. Until- Until I- I smelled like...sage." Mr. Merrin furrowed his eyebrows, confusing Hotch.
"Sage?" He questioned, unsure if he had heard Mr. Merrin right.
"Like the burning sage. 'Cause that's when I..." Mr. Merrin continued, now starting to cry more and more. The more he described about what happened next, the more Hotch began to worry about Mr. Merrin.
"A shadow monster? With talons for hands?" Hotch asked, Mr. Merrin nodding.
"Yeah. I know how it sounds. I- I knew I needed to get upstairs, because...because I- I- I could hear her screaming. I passed out, and when I woke up, the cops had arrested me. I didn't do it. I swear to God, it is exactly what happened." Mr. Merrin begged, not caring about wiping his tears away. All he wanted was for someone to believe him.
"No, it's not." Hotch shook his head, causing Mr. Merrin to scoff.
"Yes, it is." He insisted, glaring at Hotch, who exhaled.
"Mr. Merrin, what happened was you took a kitchen knife and you stabbed your wife to death." Hotch broke the news to Mr. Merrin, who's face dropped when he heard the words 'knife' and 'stabbed'.
"No, no." He shook his head, starting to cry again.
"Neighbours heard the screaming and they called 9-1-1, and when the police arrived, they found you still on the bed holding the knife." Hotch kept explaining what actually happened.
"I didn't do that." He begged.
"You've been scratching yourself, Mr. Merrin. Are you aware of that? Open your shirt and you will see why." Hotch gestured to Mr. Merrin's shirt, watching as he hurriedly ripped open his shirt, his hands grazing over his upper torso. There were large claw marks.
"That's- That's from the shadow monster." He gasped, glanced between his chest and Hotch.
Hotch opened the file, reading the M.E. report.
"No, that's from your wife. Forensics matched your skin under her fingernails as she fought to keep you from killing her. Think back to the words she was screaming." Hotch asked, watching as a single tear slipped from Mr. Merrin's eye. His mouth was wide open and he stared down at the metal table.
"Why would I do that?" He asked, his voice broken and shaky.
"Do you recognize either of these people?" Hotch asked, pulling two photos out from underneath other pieces of paper. The photos were of other people who claimed to be attacked by the shadow monster.
"No, I- No." He looked at the photos, shaking his head.
"This is Daniel Karras and this is Christine McNeil. Each of them claims to have been attacked in their homes by a shadowy figure. When in reality, Daniel stabbed his mother to death and Christine her boyfriend. And like you, they have no recollection of the murder." Hotch told Mr. Merrin who the two people were.
"What does it mean?" Mr. Merrin questioned.
"It means that someone found a way to induce a psychotic break in the 3 of you." Hotch explained.
"Why- Why us? Why me?" Mr. Merrin asked, confused.
"Well, that's why you're here instead of a holding cell in Topeka, so my team can answer that question." Hotch admitted.
"Agent Hotchner. I'm not a murderer." Mr. Merrin begged.
"Yes, you are. And I'm going to find out who turned you into one." Hotch nodded his head, determined.