Glorified G // Eddie Vedder

Chapter 1

Author's note- I am super excited to write this fic, I'm planning to combine two of my favourite things; grunge and criminal psychology. Now the protagonist Joanne is working as a criminal psychologist / profiler with interpol, and I wanted to write using real crimes and cases, however finding cases within the specific parameters I set for the fic was incredibly difficult, so my plan is to create cases based loosely off real ones so dates and details may be changed slightly- and a quick heads up is that there will be mentions of murder, sexual assault and violence throughout this fic. So the crimes aren't real, but they are based kinda on real ones if that makes sense. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it :)

August 26th 1991

Joanne let out an exasperated sigh as she gathered her hair in a ponytail, she had been working on one of the most disturbing cases of her career at interpol yet. Beverly Allitt, a twenty three year old state enrolled nurse in the children's ward at Grantham and Kesteven Hospital, had just been arrested putting an end to her violent killing spree once and for all. The murders during her time as a nurse had flown under the radar until in April agent Joanne Taylor noticed gaps within the nursing logs, although she had only worked with interpol for little over a year she had quickly learnt that her gut instinct was one of the few constants within the job. Joanne had spent weeks gathering evidence and scouring nursing logs to find the common factor, Beverly Allitt. Once Joanne and her fellow agents had enough evidence to charge the angel of death, armed police and agents were sent to her place of residence and the hospital where she worked.

Once the paperwork was finished and the adrenaline of the arrest had worn off Joanne was left with her thoughts, and after a case like this they were never optimistic. She handed in the paperwork and clocked out for the day making a beeline for her battered silver ford fiesta, not wanting to be near the office for a second more. She was quick to make a stop of for a bottle of wine, she knew alcohol wasn't a great coping mechanism but she just needed something to take the edge away for tonight. Once she arrived home she was greeted by the familiar cold atmosphere her ex-fiance had left in the apartment they shared.

"Jo. This job- it's ruining you. You can't keep choosing the job, it will never pick you back, and when all is done you'll be left alone and you will regret not choosing me." His harsh words seemed to echo around the rooms, she knew he had been right and that if she had just stayed objective to her job she would probably be married by now. But it's impossible to work in a job that is so emotionally and physically draining without allowing yourself to be immersed into it. The bottle of wine didn't last her very long and she soon wished she had splurged on something stronger, maybe vodka would've done the trick, she found herself drifting out of consciousness as effects of the alcohol kicked in.

In front of her she saw the crime scene photos. The victims, children, too young to have lived, they had whole lifetimes in front of them but they were ripped from this cruel world much too soon. She saw herself standing around a conference table with her co-workers, explaining that they were dealing with an 'Angel of Death' and that she would most likely believe that she is doing the 'right thing' when she kills, as she in her mind thinks that she is helping. Or alternatively she could commit suicide at any sign of police officials, she fit the profile that had been created by the agents and she was seen on cctv around the victim's times of death. The image of Allitt's face as she was apprehended flashed before her eyes followed yet again by the faces of the victims she couldn't save.

Joanne sat upright on her bed, beads of sweat forming along her forehead and her heart pounding, she hauled herself out of bed and washed her face before drinking a glass of water. The nights after closing or reviewing a case were always the hardest for her, most likely due to all of the information being dragged to the front of her mind. She groaned as she got back into bed, hoping for a few hours of sleep.