The Dangers of Falling (A Criminal Minds Story)

IV

I woke up to loud knocking on my door way too early in the morning. I rolled over and checked the time, groggily getting accustomed to the day. It was only five in the morning - so who could possibly be knocking on my door that early?
    I walked to the door, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and looked through the peephole. Of course, it was exactly who I expected it to be - Reid. I swung the door open, fully ready to yell at him for waking me up way too early.
    "Reid-"
    "There was another fire." He said, brushing past me into my room.
    "What?"
    "Another fire an hour ago. Get dressed, we're leaving to go investigate."
    "Who is 'we?'" I watched Reid pace back and forth before he started to dig through my closet for clothes for me to wear. "Could you- Stop, I'll do it." I grabbed some clothing and headed towards the bathroom, slamming the door to get dressed in peace.
    " 'We', Andy, is you, me, Morgan, Emily and Hotch. Rossi and JJ are going to interview the witnesses." Reid told me, his voice awkwardly muffled through the door. I threw my hair up messily with a clip and dabbed on some lipstick before opening the door to see Reid standing directly behind it. He looked me up and down.
    "That's a pretty shirt." I rolled my eyes.
    "I thought we were leaving."
    "Yeah, well-" I started out the door before he had a chance to finish, completely crabby and not in the mood to talk. Reid caught up quickly; even though I was walking fast, he was faster. Morgan, Hotch and Emily sat in the car waiting for us.
    "Look who's up." Morgan said irritably as I slid in next to Prentiss who offered me a warm smile as a good morning.
    "Yeah, what is this about anyway?" I asked, my voice clearly displaying the mood I was in.
    "There was a fire reported two hours ago. A family was killed in a house fire." Hotch briefed as Morgan sped the car forward. I could hear the sirens from a distance.
"Fuck, not another one." I muttered.
"Yeah, another one." Emily sighed.
"This guy is getting much faster. He went from ten days to four days between kills. Who knows how long it will be until we kill again." Reid explained.
"Couldn't this just be a coincidence?" I asked.
"We won't know until we get there." Hotch sighed. It wasn't a long drive to the house - or what was left of it - and I could smell the smoke from three blocks away.
When we got out of the car, Morgan handed Reid and I gloves as we walked towards the ashes of the house. There was barely anything left, just a front door and some scaffolding. I could smell burning flesh and my nose crinkled, trying not to gag.
I watched as the EMTs dragged a body bag out from the rubble. I looked at Morgan, who gave me a quizzical and concerned look. I held up a hand before running to the curb to throw up. I stood hunched over, afraid to turn back around again.
"You sure you can do this?" Morgan asked, and I turned around, wiping my mouth.
"Yeah. Yup. I'm fine. I'm fine. I just need a second." He nodded, turning away. I felt dizzy, wondering if this was what Rose went through. I couldn't stop thinking about how that once was Rose's family and it made me ill.
I threw up again, wiped my mouth, and headed over to the crime scene, trying to ignore the smell which my nose had now grown accustomed to.
"This fire was no accident. It wasn't electrical. It was clearly gasoline. You can smell it." Morgan said, his sunglasses sitting on his nose.
"Yeah, I smell it alright." I said, looking around, suppressing the urge to puke again. "I'm gonna call Garcia. See what she can tell me about these people." I walked away, happy for an excuse to walk away from the scene.
"You've reached Hot People Hotline, this is Penelope Garcia speaking." Garcia's peppy voice came ringing through the phone.
"Hey, Garcia, it's Andy."
"Oh, I know who it is, Princess. What do you got for me?"
"Duncan Swift, Phoebe Swift, Damien Swift and July Swift were all killed in a house fire last night. Can you tell me if they would have any connections to the other victims? Schools, work, health insurance, I don't know, anything?" I heard loud and fast typing through the phone.
"Nope, nothing. Not a single connection." Garcia informed me. I sighed. Another seemingly dead end.
"Okay, thanks anyway."
"No problem, Princess. Let me know if you find anything."
"Sure." I walked back to Reid and Emily who were talking to Detective Copper. "Garcia said it was a dead end. I think she was right."
"Yeah, well our unsub just committed another fire. Two victims were burned alive at Texas Tech." Hotch said, slipping his phone into his pocket.
"Texas Tech, that's about two hours away." Detective Copper said, looking at us. "That's out of my jurisdiction."
"Two hours away?" I whispered as Emily started towards the car.
"Miller, go with Prentiss. See what you two can find there and we'll finish up here. Let us know when you get there." I nodded quickly before turning around and running towards the car.
"Should I go with them?" I heard Reid say as I opened the door.
"You're not the only one with a PhD, lover boy. They got it." Morgan said, and I smiled, looking at Reid as Emily pulled the car into park.
    It was a long drive to the university, and Emily drove fast, speeding the entire time. "You okay?" I asked, and she looked at me quickly before returning her eyes to the road.
    "Yeah, it's just... six victims in one day? It's only six in the morning, Andy. What if this guy is going to kill more people?" She shook her head. "Makes me sick." We sat in silence for a while and I looked out the window, admiring the Texas landscape around us.
    "Have you ever been to Texas?"
    "Sorry?" Emily seemed surprised by my question.
    "Have you ever been to Texas?" I repeated. Even stupid questions such as these were helping to keep my mind off of what we were about to get into.
    "Yeah, loads of times. We come here a lot for cases."
    "Well, Texas does have a homicide rate of 5.4 per one hundred thousand," I said, still staring out the window.
    "You're turning into Reid." She said, and I laughed.
    "Please don't say that." I responded and she laughed, too.
    "So how are things going with that?" She asked, and I rolled my eyes.
    "Emily, please."
    "Oh, come on. Just... amuse me." She said, a wide smile on her face.
    "Fine. How are things going with Reid since you asked me last night? Okay, I guess. We have a lot in common. He did come to my apartment last week, so-"
    "Reid came to your apartment?" She asked, a bewildered tone in her voice. She seemed completely surprised. I nodded.
    "Yeah, last week when we got back. To check up on me." I said as we rolled along, even faster. Her phone rang, a little jangle in her pocket, and she pulled it out.
    "Okay, we are coming back to this subject, but here, pick up the phone." She tossed it to me and I caught it, picking it up.
    "Hey, it's Andy." I said, putting the phone on speaker mode so Emily could hear.
    "Hey, Princess. Look, I have some information on one of the victims." Garcia's voice, focused as ever rang loud and clear through the car. Computer noises buzzed in the background, constant clicking noises and little beeps.
    "Tell me what you got." I said, shifting in my seat.
    "Abigail Ivers, twenty two, was one of the victims at the university. Get this: she grew up in Andrews and went to school with one of the victims from the house fire, Duncan Swift." I looked at Emily, who shared an intrigued look back.
"Same grade?"
"Yup."
"Did they know each other? Any classes together?" Emily asked. More clacking on the other line.
"Yeah, a math class in fifth grade."
"Fifth grade," I muttered, coming to a sudden realization the same time Emily did, whose face mirrored mine.
"Middle school." We said together, and I turned my head back close to the phone.
"Garcia, tell me, when they were in middle school, who was the principal?" I asked, sitting up as Emily sped the car even further. We would be at the university in an hour and I know she wanted to cut that time in half.
"Malcolm Burke." Garcia said, and I felt Emily speed the car up once more.
"Garcia, can you check to see who was in that math class that year and cross reference with jobs with electrical backgrounds, cars even." Emily said. I heard furious typing.
    "Yeah, two matches." There's a moment of silence and more beeping noises. "Oh, wow."
    "What?" I ask, my voice much louder than it needed to be.
    "Paul Fontana, age twenty two. He's a burn victim, he's got scars all along his face and arms... bad fire back when he was eight." All I could think about was Rose and how this was potentially our unsub.
    "This is our guy. It has to be." Emily said, watching a car go past us. "If he's a burn victim, he was most likely bullied for the way that he looks. This guy killed all these people for revenge. It has to be."
    "I'll get Hotch on the phone. What's his address?"
"481 Lavender Street. He lives in Andrews."
"Thanks. Call you later, Garcia." I hung up and quickly dialled Hotch.
    "Hotchner."
    "We think we have our unsub. Paul Fontana. 481 Lavender Street. He's a burn victim who went to the same middle school as Abigail Ivers and Duncan Swift. It's also the middle school where Malcolm Burke was principal."
    "And the waitress?"
    "No connection we could find."
    "Okay, thanks, Miller. We'll head over there."
    "He won't be home, though."
    "Why not?"
    "Well, if he's working alone, which we assume he is, he would be heading back now." I said, turning to Emily, who gave me a look of horror.
    "Maybe he's still on campus." She said, and my eyes widened.
    "Hotch, I have to go. Can you send Morgan, maybe Rossi, anyone to come in case he's still there?" I asked as Emily pulled off the highway.
    "Of course. Reid, Rossi and Morgan are on their way."
    "Thanks." He hung up and I watched as Emily pulled into a parking lot at the university. We got out quickly, running towards the front office where we were supposed to meet with the dean of the sschool. I pulled my hair back as we walked, throwing it up in a low ponytail.
    I grabbed my vest from Emily who held them tightly in her right hand and put it on quickly. The woman I assumed to be dean walked towards us fast, with determination.
    "You're the FBI agents, right?" She asked.
    "I'm SSA Prentiss, this is Dr. Miller." Emily spoke quickly.
    "I'm Elizabeth Rudley, the dean." She shook Emily's hand and then mine.
    "We have reason to believe the suspect is still here. We need to block of the exits, stop anyone from leaving. Can you do that?" I asked, and she nodded.
    "Where is the crime scene?" Emily asked. "There's a high possibility that the unsub will return to the crime scene."
    "This way." She said, leading us there. We walked quickly and with determination, almost a slow run. We entered a dorm building and bolted down the hallway. "The elevator is out of service, we'll have to take the stairs."
    "How many staircases are there on her floor?" I asked, trying not to show how winded I was from all this walking.
    "Two." I looked at Emily, who looked back at me.
    "Emily, I'll go to the other, you stay at this one. He'll come back. We need to be at the only available entrances so he can't get past us. We can't let him get away." She nodded quickly.
    "Be careful." I nodded, running towards the other side of the hallway. It was quiet, too quiet. My footsteps echoed in the hall and I slowed down, wishing I had picked better shoes when Reid had been rushing me through the door.
    I held my gun out in front of me, cautiously turning a corner. Another set of footsteps. I turned around, my heart beating faster than it ever had before. A man, a dark hood pulled over his head, stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
    "Paul Fontana. I'm Andy Miller, I'm with the FBI. Put your hands up." I tried to steady my voice, but the nerves were clearly showing. He didn't move. I gripped my gun. "Paul Fontana." I said louder, my voice much more confident. "Put your hands on your head or I shoot you right now."
    Then everything happened in slow motion. I watched him reach for something in his pocket, a small gun I didn't see he had. I heard the shot register and felt my hands pull the trigger, the loud bang rippling through the hallway like a tidal wave.
    I felt pain in my right side - a shot of pain, a flash of white - and watched as Fontana fell to the ground just as I did, but he didn't sit up. I looked down, eyeing a rip in my pants right above my knee.
    "Officer down, officer down!" Prentiss' voice went right through me and I watched as she ran toward me. She bent down, and looked at my leg, examining it. "Andy! Are you okay? Can you hear me?"
    "I'm fine, it's just a scratch." My voice was calm, even. "Is he..." I watched the campus security run to him, bend down, and feel the nonexistent pulse on the side of Fontana's neck.
    "He's gone." One of them shouted, and I sighed with relief. I could barely feel any pain anymore. I got up, walking towards him.
    "Andy-" Her voice was full of worry, but I ignored it, walking to see his face. I looked away quickly, knowing I would never get the image of his lifeless eyes surrounded by gruesome scars out of my head again.
    The events of the day swirled around in my head as the medics arrived, forced me onto a gurney and brought me to a nearby ambulance. I didn't care. I had killed somebody, even if he did deserve it.
    Like I had thought, it was just a scratch. The plane ride home was quiet. I fell asleep, and woke up for a few minutes, and I swore that Reid was sitting next to me, but when my eyes closed again and when I was finally awake, he was on the other side of the plane.
    I got into my building, walking quickly up the stairs, turning around more than once in the hopes that Reid would be following me to make sure I got home again. He wasn't, but I didn't let that bother me. I fell into bed, quickly falling asleep, letting the world fall around me.