∗ ࣪ ˖༺ violent delights ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

this is where i wanna be

i sit on the edge of my bed, flipping through the channels on the hotel tv. familiar faces from "blue bloods," the quick rhythm of "jeopardy," and endless reruns of "king of queens" flash by. the familiar streets of new york on screen bring a strange comfort in the quiet. i reach for my phone and dial hannah's number, hoping she's still awake. she picks up almost immediately.

"it is 1 a.m., you know that, right?" she says, her voice playful but slightly muffled, like she's out somewhere. "are you at a party?" i ask, laughing lightly. "couldn't pass up a halloween party, mads." she replies, her tone mischievous. "and let me guess, you're a sexy nurse?" i tease. "your profiling thing freaks me out," she laughs back, and i chuckle along with her. "did you need something, or did you call just to call?" she asks after a pause.

"just to call, but i can text you tomorrow. have fun, and be safe." i say. i'm glad to hear her voice. we say our goodbyes, and she hangs up. it hits me then—it's almost halloween. matt's favorite holiday. the memories flood in. he'd always beg to decorate the apartment, insisting we go all out. i'd cave every year, loving how excited he got. he'd dress up, ready to hand out candy to all the kids in our building. i smile at the thought of him, the warmth of those memories wrapping around me.

a knock at the door pulls me out of the past. i get up to answer it. hotch stands on the other side, his face tired but serious. "are we making this a tradition?" i joke, trying to ease the tension, but he sighs. "the rest of the team is back in quantico. they have a case ready for us tomorrow. will you be ready by 5?" he asks, his voice low and calm. "yeah, no problem. you could've just called me, no need to get up." i laugh softly, but he doesn't return the smile.

"i wanted to see you." his words hang in the air, hitting me unexpectedly. my chest tightens for a second. "oh." i manage, unsure what else to say. "thanks." i add, feeling flustered and completely off balance. "i'll meet you downstairs in the lobby at 5." he turns on his heel quickly, heading back to his room, leaving me standing at the door, trying to process.

"oh, thanks?" i mutter to myself as i close the door, sinking back onto the bed. who says "oh, thanks" to that? i sigh, curling back under the blankets, hoping for sleep but knowing my mind is too restless to let me rest. 

𓆩♡𓆪

"the cool thing about halloween is it's an american holiday. i mean, despite its obvious origins in the celtic festival of samhain and the christian's all saints day, it really is a melting pot of various immigrant religions and beliefs. it became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick-or-treating, and today it rivals only christmas in popularity." reid says, talking my ear off as we walk into the round table room. he's holding a scary mask in his hand, one of those cheap plastic ones with exaggerated features, the kind that looks like it came from a dollar store.

spencer loves halloween. i've heard that every year he dresses up and goes all out. it's endearing, in a way—this genius profiler getting so wrapped up in something as whimsical as a holiday. as we move toward the table, i glance at rossi, hoping for some help as reid continues his enthusiastic monologue. "all i asked was what he was doing this weekend." i mutter, dropping into my chair.

"you know, i'm toying with the notion of going to either the edgar allan poe shadow puppet show or the reenactment of the 19th-century phantasmagoria." he continues, practically bouncing with excitement. "i don't wanna know." rossi cuts in, raising a hand to stop him.

"oh, yeah, you do," reid insists, undeterred. "phantasmagorias are these amazing pre-cinema projected ghost shows invented in france, where the showman attempted to spook the audience using science magic." his voice is so animated, his eyes wide with that boyish excitement, that it's hard to be annoyed. penelope and morgan walk in just as reid finishes, settling into their seats. "it also just so happens that i have an extra ticket." reid adds, turning to me with a hopeful grin. "tempting." i say with a light pat on his arm, grabbing the file garcia tosses across the table.

"guys, i wouldn't have to worry about losing my feminine curves if you all paid more attention to the trees we're consuming around here." garcia grumbles, flopping a thick stack of papers in front of each of us. "when did you become an eco-freak?" morgan teases, throwing her a playful glance. "baby, i was born green." she quips, sitting beside him just as hotch and jj stride into the room with the weight of urgency hanging in the air.

"we're going to detroit." jj announces, flipping the tv on and displaying a map of the city. "aw, but it's halloween weekend." spencer groans, slumping a little in his chair. "arson investigators have noticed a three-year trend in the days leading up to halloween." hotch explains, his tone all business as he continues. "devil's night." i say quietly, the ominous history of detroit's violent pre-halloween nights flashing through my mind. "this unsub is killing only on these three days of the year." hotch says, eyes scanning the room, locking us in.

"how's he doing it?" rossi asks, leaning forward. "he's burning his victims alive." jj answers, pressing a button on the remote to bring up a set of crime scene photos. the images are gruesome, blackened remains of what used to be people left in abandoned lots. "he's abducting seemingly random people and dumping their bodies in deserted areas around the city. he struck again last night." hotch adds, the tension thickening.

"yeah, tony torrell, 40. he lived in the suburbs, but he was found 20 miles away in rivertown district." jj continues, flipping through more slides. "he's attacking the city at its most vulnerable time." rossi murmurs, more to himself than anyone else, as the grim reality sinks in.

"what does he do during the rest of the year?" spencer asks, brow furrowing in thought. "he's dormant?" i answer, flipping through the case file, already trying to piece together a profile. "arsonists are typically white males between the ages of 17 and 25 who can't stay away from fire." reid says, his mind already churning through the facts. "yeah, they're addicted to it, and there's no rehab." morgan adds, crossing his arms, his voice tinged with frustration.

"and they target dwellings, not people." reid continues, his train of thought uninterrupted. "so you're saying he's burning his victims alive, but he isn't an arsonist?" garcia asks, looking between us, her face twisted in confusion. the room goes quiet for a moment as we let the weight of the question settle in, the eerie reality of the case making the air feel colder.