∗ ࣪ ˖༺ violent delights ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

is it all in my head?

i hardly slept last night. i'd stare at the ceiling, drift off for a second, then jolt awake, my mind running through every reason why today might not happen. but then i'd check the clock, realize i still had hours to kill, and lay there, feeling the ache of just wanting to be back. the suspension had been brutal. not in the way i'd thought—no lectures, no dragging files around an empty office—but the silence, the way time just crawled by. i'd forgotten what it felt like to have nothing to do but stare out the window or read the same page of a book three times before giving up. i was restless, empty, like i'd been hollowed out and left to wait.

but today? today i'd finally get to feel like myself again. i took my time getting ready, savouring every little step. i brushed my hair, slipped into my suit, and ensured everything was perfect. i wanted to look like i hadn't missed a beat, like i was just as sharp as ever. when i looked in the mirror, i felt like i recognized myself again—a little weary, maybe, but steady, prepared, and finally heading back where i belonged. i get to the bau early, nerves humming under my skin. it's quiet this time of day, the stillness oddly comforting as i make my way to the bullpen. jj spots me first, a bright smile lighting up her face. "hey, you're back! you always miss the exciting news!" she says, her voice barely containing her excitement. "i'm pregnant! henry's going to have a little sibling."

i grin, genuinely happy for her, wrapping her in a hug. "that's amazing, jj. congratulations! i'm so happy for you." i say hello to the others as they trickle in. rossi gives me an approving look, clapping me on the shoulder. "glad to see you up and about." he says warmly. morgan fills me in on the latest cases, his animated retelling bringing a spark of life to the early morning.

as i'm getting settled, spencer approaches, his usual shy smile on his face. "happy belated birthday." he says quietly, almost like it's a secret just between us. i raise my brows in surprise, a soft laugh escaping me. "thank you, spence, but i didn't tell anyone. how'd you find out?" he shrugs, the hint of a smile deepening. "i, uh, read it in your file a while back. i know the time and weekday for everyone on the team." we exchange a small smile, the warmth from the team already easing some of the tension from the week. it feels good to be back— i'm home.

hotch strides in, his usual briefcase in hand, and as he passes by my desk, he asks to speak with me in his office. i follow, my heart a mix of frustration and anticipation. once we're inside, he sets his things down, organizing his desk with that precise, methodical way of his, while i stand there waiting. "have a seat." he says finally, nodding toward the chair across from him.

i sit, feeling the weight of his gaze. he pulls out a stack of papers, his expression unreadable. "how are you?" he asks, tone carefully neutral. "fine." i reply, a flicker of annoyance escaping in my voice. "fine?" he repeats, brow slightly raised. "i'm just... glad to be back." i say, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

"you'll be starting on monitored field duty, everything goes through me," he explains, setting the papers in front of me. "when i think you're ready, i'll submit the clearance papers for full access field duty. i hope this has shown you where impulsive actions can lead." his tone is firm, his words laced with the reprimand that lingers from before. "can i ask you something?" i venture, glancing up. he looks at me, surprised. "go ahead."

"would you have done this to prentiss? to morgan?" i ask, keeping my tone as measured as i can. he clears his throat, shifting in his chair. "this isn't personal if that's what you're suggesting." i hold his gaze. "i'm just saying, morgan jumped onto an ambulance with an active bomb, and he was praised for it. i saved victims from a burning building and got suspended." he lets out a sigh, clearly uncomfortable. "that was different." "how? how was that any different?" i press, my frustration surfacing despite my best efforts.

he stiffens, his expression hardening. "i'm not discussing this any further, agent. jj has a case—go get briefed." he says, his tone brooking no argument. i scoff slightly, getting up and heading for the door, feeling the sting of dismissal.  i walk into the round table room, sitting down at the table and opening the file in front of me. 

the screen lights up with a grainy image of william hightower, his face blank, gaze distant. "his name's william hightower," jj begins as we gather around the round table. "he claims he's taken ten people off the streets of detroit over the past month, killed them, and dumped their bodies across the canadian border." "has he given up the dumpsite?" emily asks, leaning forward.

jj shakes her head. "he says he'll only talk to the fbi." "do we have confirmation these people are even missing?" morgan cuts in, always skeptical. "two were reported missing months ago by family, but most seem to be transients. it's been hard to gather any information on them." jj admits. "garcia." hotch turns his attention to her. "like a bloodhound, sir." she gets up and heads out of the room. i lean forward. "so what do we know about this guy?"

hotch pulls up more files. "up until two months ago, he was a sergeant in the u.s. army. did two tours in iraq. he lost his left leg in a roadside ambush, and he was discharged with a purple heart and a commendation for valor." "and the royal canadian mounted police are asking for our help?" i ask, eyeing the background information on the screen.

"they don't have much choice." hotch replies. jj adds, "our suspect was taken into custody at the border after crashing into a guard booth. why get away with ten murders, then crash like that?" "could be an attempted suicide." emily suggests. "or maybe he wanted to take as many people as he could with him." i add. "could be a case of ptsd, too." rossi considers aloud.

hotch stares at the screen thoughtfully. "i don't know... but it's too many bodies to take any chances." he finally says. we grab our bags and head straight to the jet. once we're in the air, jj fills us in on more details. "he documented each victim in detail," she says, flipping through files. "names, photos, dates, and where he abducted them." "military background—that explains the organization." morgan observes.

"he doesn't have a particular type," rossi notes. "the only common factor is where he abducted them." "the cass corridor," reid says, passing me a file. "it has one of the highest concentrations of drug trafficking, prostitution, and homelessness." "all high-risk activities," rossi nods. "maybe for him, it's less about victim type and more about opportunity." i suggest.

hotch nods, setting out instructions. "morgan, prentiss, when we land, head straight to detroit, see what you can find on the ground. the rest of us will meet the legal attaché and the rcmp." "actually, sir," jj cuts in, "the officer in charge mentioned his team went through the bau training fellowship." rossi smirks. "jeff bedwell. that was the first class we ever trained." "is he any good?" hotch asks. rossi grins. "he'd better be. i trained him."

we land, and as morgan and prentiss head to detroit, the rest of us meet with jeff. hotch has me stick close to him, and rossi introduces each of us in turn. "agents hotchner, reid, jareau, and mortier." he says as jeff nods in greeting. "thanks for being here," jeff says. "i've got victim boards and timelines set up. anything you need, just ask." "we appreciate it." hotch replies.

jeff's eyes darken. "don't thank me. thank the unsub—he's the one that put you in charge." rossi chuckles. "guess you were paying attention in class." "i need to call garcia, see if she's tracked down any family members." i tell hotch, stepping aside. "also check border crossing records," he adds, "see if there are any matches with the days our victims disappeared." i nod, dialing garcia and the chase begins.