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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
chapter 11 Dirt Under The Fingernails
The smooth feeling of the water touching his lips as the pills pushed down his throat. A slight groan left his lips as the cold water soothed the rough feeling of the pill. "Fucking medicine" Damon whispered, throwing the glass into the sink.
He heard the slightest crack of the glass, as he grabbed his leather jacket and slid it over his black long sleeve shirt. Damon closed the front door and locked it. Walking down the hallway and into the elevator, leaning against the railing, it was cold against his jeans.
Damon was early today, and for a good reason. The second the doors opened, he slipped out and walked to his mailbox, the slow creek of it, made Damon's ears hurt. He pulled out a package, it was yellow, something that you'd normally get smaller boxes in.
He walked to the back alley and ripped open the package, pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. Damon put the lighter into the cigarette box then but that into the inside pocket of his jacket. He threw the packaging into the alley trash bin, he wasn't a monster.
Walking to the front of the building, Damon sat on a bench and waited for Hotch to show up. His leg bounced up and down as he waited. That's when his phone rang. Damon's fingers slowly rapped around the cold device in his pocket, bring it to his ear. "Yes?" Damon asked into his phone.
"You should get a burner" A familiar voice grinned through the phone. "Thank you for the cigarettes" Damon sighed, as he looked around. "I have some more packages coming for you" The voice said calmly. "Keep them coming, and then maybe I'll let you into my apartment, instead of you breaking in, then we can talk business" Damon sighed as he watched Hotch's car, pull onto the street. "Have a good day Damon", "You too, Ryan". With that, Damon hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, watching Hotch's car pull up to the sidewalk.
Damon sighed as he walked over, pulling open the passenger seat door and getting in. "How was your weekend?" Hotch asked as he drove away from the apartment building. "Fine, I spent a night at JJ's then the rest of my weekend in my apartment" Damon sighed as he gently played with his fingers.
Once they got back to the FBI, it was definitely going to be a quiet day and Damon had nothing to do, since the only thing on his desk was a speck of dust. Anything that could be used as a weapon, was taken away from him since it would, number one, break his probation and two because people were terrified of him.
Damon got out of the car and followed Aaron into the FBI building. He sat down at his desk, and just kind of zoned for a couple minutes until he got up and walked outside. He walked to the alley next to the building and leaned against the brick wall. His fingers rapped around the pack of cigarettes in the inside of his jacket and opened it.
