Damon, when he was 11, watched something that changed his life forever. And after "being in" jail for years he gets offered a job at the BAU. But something was always off about Damon. No one knew what.
Maybe it was his hair
Or his clothes
Or the fa...
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chapter 1 Chance Blown
The next week, felt like hell. Damon couldn't get the thoughts and decisions out of his head. He felt like he was going crazy all over again. His mind kept going blank, then memories. All over again.
Then a sudden clash of a door and a knock on the bars knocked Damon out of his thoughts. Damon opened his eyes and propped himself up on his bed. Hotch stood at the bars of his Damon's cell.
"I need an answer Damon" Hotch said blankly. "I'll do it, just I have a condition" Damon said. "What do you want?" He seems more pissed off than last week. "I'll need my own house. No guards, no Agents, nothing" Damon said as he sat on the edge of his bed.
"I can't do that" Hotch said with a sigh. "Make it happen or I don't take to the job" Damon got up and walked to the bars. "I'll see what I can do" Hotch said before walking off.
Once the door closed Damon yelled. One of those frustrated yells. "Come on!" He yelled. Damon was done with the cell. He wanted to be out and he most likely just blew his chance of getting his freedom.
The next week
Damon sat in his cell. Eyes closed and mind racing. "I made your deal happen" A familiar voice said. "Thanks" Damon said not looking or opening his eyes to look at Hotch. "I'll see you in a couple days" Hotch said before walking off.
In that week, Damon was released from prison and given apartment without any security. Something he has been waiting for the past 5 years. But everything was happening so fast and a part of him wanted to be back in his prison cell.
Alone. Calm. Quiet.
But maybe being out was going to help his sanity. He always felt like he was going crazy in his cell. No one to talk to or yell at or something. He always wanted something. After awhile he got used to the silence that came with solitary confinement.
He didn't mind being quiet and alone after awhile. He made himself story's in his head that he told out loud and he would draw on the walls. He could punch the walls. He would cut himself with the pieces of wall, most of them dull.
Damon, slowly looked around the apartment. It was small. One bedroom, one bathroom. Kitchen, living room and that was it. But it would do. It was better than a 6 by 7 cell.
He walked into the kitchen, placing the apartment keys on the counter top and opening the drawer. There were, knife's in the drawer, shimmering off the sunlight from the window. He couldn't hurt anyone in the apartment since he was the only one, but he could hurt himself.
