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Spencer refused to go home, scouring over hundreds of cases and writing every clue he could find on the whiteboard. He was consumed with anxiety, so much so that he didn't realise the time until a familiar hand gentle rubbed his back – handing him a long black.
"Harper?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing here?"
She smiles gently, pulling a chair from another cubicle over. "You didn't respond to any of my messages, and I was too scared to sleep. I thought you might be here."
He frowned as she said she couldn't sleep, feeling guilty that he hadn't responded to her messages. He had been so preoccupied with protecting her that he'd almost forgotten she was really out there, scared and alone. "What time is it?"
"5 am," she replied. "I brought the coffee from home." Remembering his drink, he finally smiled softly, holding it close. "Thanks."
Harper settled in beside him, sifting through the notes he'd scrawled across the pages. "What are you thinking?" she asked softly.
Spencer pointed to a string of notes on the Replicator's known movements, his fingers dancing across the page. "There's a pattern here, but it's subtle - too subtle. Almost like he's hiding something in plain sight. I think he's timing his messages and actions to moments that coincide with my... our personal lives."
Harper's brows knitted together as she followed his thought process. "So he's tailoring his taunts to make it feel even more personal?"
Spencer nodded. "Exactly. I initially thought it was just aimed at the BAU, but look." He slid a timeline over, showing incidents and taunts that lined up with times they'd been alone, or messages that carried specific wording they'd used in private conversations.
