❝ But I'm only human
and I bleed when I fall down ❞
The Behavioral Analysis Unit gets called in to assist on a serial killer case in New York. That's where they meet Special Agent Skylar Brown, a former military recruit with a past guarded better th...
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The jet was incredible, to say the least. Skylar's fear-based expectations crashed the minute she stepped foot into it. Pun intended.
Her stomach and heartbeat took extra laps as the engines roared loudly and the jet made its way over the landing field.
Derek offered her the window seat next to him, but — the scared little girl she was — she awkwardly declined. Skylar wanted to sit in close proximity to the bathroom or else she would've died right then and there.
"What, you're not a big fan of window seats?" Morgan asked her jokingly.
"Nope," she popped the 'p'. Her calm expression fooled him, much to her delight. On the inside though, she was panicking like crazy.
Emily sat down next to Spencer across from Derek, holding a cheery conversation during takeoff. The other three Agents took the remaining seats, but only until they got the clearance to stand.
It was an agonizingly long 15 minutes until the plane finally reached cruising altitude. Skylar could feel her heart slip into her pants, her lungs burned and they struggled for breath; she found herself yet again introduced to the reason why she hated flying in the first place. Now the jet flew at a steady pace without tilting too much of an upwards angle and the girl exhaled the breath she had been holding.
JJ stood behind Derek's seat, Hotch and Rossi took place on the comfortable sofa. Except for the ringing in Skylar's ear and sudden nausea she experienced, she felt quite alright at the moment.
"Okay," Prentiss said, "Let's break it down. What do we know so far?"
"There was no sign of forced entry at the crime scene," said Derek. "Unsub one tied up the parents, unsub two made sure the children wouldn't put up a fight," he said. "They staged the scene to make it look like a simple home invasion, but instead of murdering everyone and stealing valuables, they took the seven-year-old son, Tucker Bailey."
"Who was probably the primary target," Skylar added.
"It's a possibility, yes," Hotch answered. "Garcia?"
"Present, sir!" The face of the cheery technical analyst appeared on the screen embedded in the jet's walls. Skylar still wasn't able to wrap her head around her previous reaction.
"You got something for us, babygirl?" Derek asked.
Babygirl? He seemed to have a knack for nicknames; he probably had one for everyone. It was his way of expressing affection, Skylar figured. As confused as she had been before about his rather flirtatious manner, she now knew that this was all part of Derek's Morgan way to show how much he cared. Also, choosing creative nicknames for everyone was a big effort, he at least deserved a few extra points for that.
Garcia giggled. "Oh, You know I've always got something for you, Drop-Dead Handsome," she said. "ButI'm kinda shocked you even had to ask." Penelope smiled cheekily as she typed away on her computer. Skylar bit back a smile.
