Like Real People Do

Chapter 2:About that night

"Hey dad, mom." You said, sitting down on the cool grass, you began to pick at the blades like you did as a child as you spoke. "I know I haven't visited in a while. In my defense, I was in school across the country, but it's not like I haven't been thinking of you guys." You leaned back the cool marble chilling your back as well. You could practically hear your mother's voice in your ear.

"Ladies don't slouch, Y/N" She'd always say, your dad would always come to your defense, "Sit however you want, Angel." He'd say. You smiled, sadly. You missed your parents in different ways but you still missed them regardless.

"Umm, so I suppose I should tell you guys what's new with me." You say. "I finished my masters, 2 actually and I uh... finished academy. I'm a profiler now at Quantico." you winced slightly, you knew your mom would hate it, she hated when your dad was one. You couldn't count the amount of times you hid in your room watching TV to drown out what they thought was hushed arguments. Your mom didn't like that he wasn't home a lot, sure but the main argument was always that she thought it was dangerous, and that he was recklessly putting their lives at risk.

If there's one thing your mother always was, it was right.

"I know you guys probably wouldn't have wanted this for me. I know mom wanted me to be a dancer despite my inability to dance." you laughed, looking back fondly at the times you would just, for lack of a better word, flail around your childhood dance classes. "And I know dad never wanted me to know about that side of his job. But I did, and now I'm doing it and I'm happy because it's the one place I finally feel like I fit." You sigh. "And I'm good at it. So I feel like you guys would be proud." You began to rattle off the details of your most recent case quietly to your dad. And how Spencer took a risk that had thankfully paid off but was terrifying in the meantime.

"Spencer is..." You paused, trying to think of the right words to describe Dr. Spencer Reid. "... A guy. Wait, not a guy, like that. He's a coworker, who's a guy." you say, fumbling and probably flushing if you could see your face. Why were you blushing? No one was here, no one alive at least. You'd known Spencer for a little over a month now and the more you spoke, the more your crush on him developed.  "He's incredibly smart, like genius-level smart, and he's nice. Dad, you would've liked him." you felt tears coming up, as they typically did this day of the year. You stood up, placing the flowers you had purchased the day before. "I actually managed to find some good blue hydrangeas this year for you, mom." You smiled, remembering the amount your mother would complain about how other people took care of their flowers in the neighborhood you grew up in specifically your neighbor's blue hydrangea bush. You often found her in a rage that they were 'practically butchering her favorite flower' You laid the flowers down regarding your parents grave one more time.

Alice and Noah Y/L/N
Beloved Parents and Agents.

You stopped for hot chocolate on your way home, it always cheered you up in these winter months. Not that anything could cheer you up today but it couldn't hurt. You made your way back to your apartment, picking up your textbook and making notes. When the words began to swim you laid down for a nap.

You hadn't had the dream for a while but it was never really gone. The putrid smell of the basement you were kept in, the drip of the leaky ceiling, the small sealed shut window that was your only indication that days have passed. His hands, filthy dirty hands. Always covered in soot, fingernails always dirty. He'd always come in at night, the light from the hallway being the only amount of light you'd get. Every night, he'd grab your face roughly, making you meet him in his dead eyes, and ask

"Are you going to be good for me tonight, Beloved."

You fought him the first couple of nights, but after a while you just let him take it. His hands always rough, pinning you, the knife pressing deep making shallow cuts in your side, the ringing of the phone