(Melanie's apartment and bedroom. Enjoy chapter six!)
CRASH!
Melanie yelped as another crash of thunder shook her entire apartment floor. She always loved dark, overcast weather enabling her to wear her favorite oversized sweater and comfy leggings. When there was thunder and lightning, however, it also enabled her to push her panic button and crawl under a million blankets, trembling in fear. The damsel was always afraid of thunder and lightning, for when she was a tiny girl, her best friend Nadia was struck by lightning. Right in front of her. Little Melanie had watched as a giant flash of light came from the sky and her best friend with the Goldilocks curls fall to the ground, smoke emitting from her back.
A flash of light poured in through her floor to ceiling windows, lighting up the entire floor of her apartment. It reflected of the shiny glass coffee table and the marble counter tops and Melanie ran towards the safety of her room. Throwing open the door, she stumbled in, her slippers sliding all over the hardwood floors and making her trip into the small blue-cushioned bench at the end of her bed. She flopped down, the cold floor meeting her face.
"Floor! We meet again," she grumbled, sitting back up and adjusting her off-shoulder sweater. Touching the side of her head, she winced as she felt a swelling bump beginning to grow. That would hurt like a you know what.
How in the world could she go from serious, top-of-her-class FBI Academy Trainee to a goofy, clumsy thirty four year old, living alone in an apartment who watched Disney movies and danced to eighties music? She had no idea but one part of that seemed to be working for her. Melanie had never dated. EVER. In her entire life, not once had she been on a date or kissed someone. No one had ever asked her to. She couldn't really blame herself. In school, the 'super nerd' was her title and throughout high school she was just the same old kid that she never wanted to grow out of. A lot of adults grew out of their kid personality and never found it again, that's why they all were so serious all the time. Melanie never wanted to lose her inner kid and she couldn't no matter how hard she tried. It was always stuck with her.
Melanie was the kind of girl who didn't wear ten pounds of makeup and stuck to the bare concealer, to hide blemishes, simple eye shadow and some mascara. But there were always most days where she hardly wore anything at all. Just stuck her long, wavy brown hair up in a bun and throw herself on the couch with a cup of coffee. Melanie was glad that she had grown into the person where she didn't give a crap about what she looked like in front of other people. She thought that maybe that contributed to her poor dating life, but if people don't like what they see on you every day, than what's the point. Melanie would rather have a guy be surprised to see her wear makeup than take all of it off.
Rubbing her head, she climbed up on the bed, her initial target before she was introduced to the floor instead, and settled back into the white bedsheets and the many pillows behind her. Closing her eyes, she listened to the rain pattering against the window to the right of her and reached up to turn both lamps that sat on each side of her bed off, making the room dark.
Her small room consisted of a large king sized bed, decorated with pearl white bedsheets, a gray accent blanket and about seven or eight pillows (because who can get enough pillows, am I right? :p). It sat up against an accent wall decorated with rustic wood panels. Above her bed on either side were to gray lamps, which provided light for the entire room, and below them sat two rustic side tables her uncle had made for her before he died of cancer. Her bed sat on a blue and white splattered rug and at the foot of her bed was the blue-cushioned bench that she had tripped on earlier. Translucent white curtains framed the only window she had in her room, looking over the giant park that stood between her and the FBI ACADEMY.
The rain continued to pour down and occasional rumbles of thunder filled all of Quantico. The city was quiet, almost seemed like it was asleep. No honking horns or sirens. Just peace and quiet apart from the drip, drip, drip of steady raindrops against Melanie's window. And with that, her mind slowly slipped into a state if unconsciousness and she fell deep into sleep, curled up against the safety of her bed.
~~ TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY PRENTISS' BADA** ATTITUDE ~~
After going through the files over and over again, the team had no luck finding anything that would help them. Hotch had been gone for a while now, obviously seeking comfort in his office, and it was nearing seven o'clock in the morning. None of the team had slept at all and they were starting to feel the effects of it kicking in. It was a Saturday, and so the building was quieter than normal, only a few people returning to the building to finish whatever they needed to.
It was a dark day outside as Reid peered through the large conference room windows. Black clouds covered every inch of the sky as rain poured out in continuous sheets down to the pavement below. Reid thought the day definitely replicated the mood of the entire BAU office floor. He felt so bad that the team couldn't be of more use to his boss at the time when he needed them most. He had been going over the letter multiple times, trying to figure out what 'I am always on you, sometimes on you, but if I surround you, you die' meant. But with the lack of sleep he had gotten, his brain wasn't really functioning the proper way it should.
If you walked out of the conference room and just down the hall two doors, you could see Hotch in his office, slumped over in his chair with his head on the desk. He had finally gotten his coffee and returned to his office, sobbing. His mind took him back to Haley's death scene and replayed it for him over and over and over ... It was branded into his mind. Something he could never get rid of. Now he was faced with another possible scenario involving his son.
Hotch felt like this was all his fault. He let Haley's death get the best of him after all these years and decided it was a good idea to go out to a bar and get completely wasted and leave his son alone with someone else besides himself. He blamed himself for calling out the team to help him get Haley off his mind, and instead here they were ... miserable and tired over in the conference room. Hotch wanted to get up and announce to the team that they could go home and sleep and that he would figure all this out in the meantime ... but something in him made him sit firmly in his office chair and sulk.
Hotch was so tired, still fighting somewhat of a hangover that he deeply regretted having. All he wanted to do was go home, sleep and worry about whether his son was asleep or playing with his toys in the next room ... not whether he was alive or not. He shot up his head and opened his bloodshot eyes to a gentle knock on the door. "Come in," he announced tiredly.
A sympathetic Penelope shuffled in through the door, her attempted smile sad and her once happy, blushing cheeks now drained of color and replaced with glossy tear stains. Her smile wobbled as she stood in her boss's office and Hotch couldn't help but get up from his seat and give her a warm hug. She started to cry softly and Hotch did as well, letting his bottled up tears slide silently down his face. Penelope let go and smiled up into his face.
"Now you're not supposed to be crying," she sob-laughed as she reached up to wipe a stray tear from his face. "Your supposed to be Mr. Serious Show No Emotion!" She put her hands on her hips and wobbled side to side as she said that and Hotch put his head down to secretly smile. Garcia reached out and rubbed his arm.
"We'll find him. But we need everyone's help, including yours," she said softly but sternly. "You know your son the best and that's what we need right now."
Garcia led the man out of his office and down the hall to the conference room, where he opened the door and was greeted by Morgan. They both jumped back at the sudden face-to-face interaction they just had and Morgan let out a sigh of relief.
"Hotch, this case is killing all of us and I noticed something," he said quickly, pulling both Hotch and Garcia into the conference room.
"What?" Hotch asked.
"We all love Jack and know him so well that we are thinking of him instead of the Unsub."
"Well how could knowing my son be an issue in this case?" Hotch furrowed his eyebrows.
"What I'm saying is that we need someone who isn't associated with him that doesn't always think about Jack and is more focused on the Unsub."
"We need a new pair of eyes to help the team," Hotch said, realizing what Morgan was trying to explain to him.
"Yes. We need someone else to help us ... and I know just the person."
Morgan whipped out his phone and dialed a number, holding it up to his ears. After a couple of seconds, he grinned. "Hey are you ready to rumble? Good, cause right now we could really use your help, Melanie."
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Word Count: 1700