❝ But I'm only human
and I bleed when I fall down ❞
The Behavioral Analysis Unit team around Aaron Hotchner gets called in to assist on a serial killer case in New York where they meet the young and surprisingly talented Special Agent Skylar Brown...
Introducing: Robert Downey Jr. as Sergeant Michael Brown
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Elizabeth Anderson wore a clean outfit that would've suggested lawyer or professor, not Doctor. But looks can be deceiving. Spencer was a doctor, not a medical one but he was, and he didn't look like one either.
She held a tray of tiny cups in front of her. A clear liquid glistened inside of them. Half full yet the smell was already intoxicating. The team of profilers couldn't tell what was inside.
"I'm getting flashbacks," Derek said.
"Morgan—" Hotch didn't get to finish.
Derek protectively stepped forward, protective over his team and aware of a danger that was invisible to some at the moment, and yet pressingly present at the same time.
"Because I think I've seen this exact picture before," he said, "but as I remember it, I didn't like the outcome. None of us did."
Skylar gave him a questioning look. "Is there something I should know about?" She asked.
Silence. She tried to decipher what was inside their eyes, but they avoided her gaze at any cost. Hotch was the only one that looked at her, but his expression was stern as always. His thoughts were perfectly locked away, hidden behind his poker face, and his feelings seemingly didn't exist.
"What's going on?" Skylar asked again. Her features fell now, too. She could feel the tension in the room. It started to suffocate her, slowly but steadily. Not even Spencer would look at her.
Pale faces laced with worry and sudden realization met hers. Her smile faded at the sight and so she frowned even more.
"Seriously, what is it?" She asked. "Is no one gonna say anything?"
"I'm not sure that's going to help you much," Elizabeth said.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't know what's going on either, but I also don't care. We need to focus on the task at hand!"
The Doctor's long brown curls hung from her shoulders, brown eyes reminded one of a summer evening with the sundown shining through the clouds, and thick black lashes framed them. She appeared to be somewhere around forty, her wrinkles there but not too strong to have been the first thing on her face to notice, which was another indicator for her age. Not young, not old, she was middle-aged. And the mole above her lip moved every time she spoke.
Hotch touched the stack of files on the table; they were old-fashioned, wrapped in a paper folder. The same copies Skylar and Spencer used on every case but this time they were for everyone to use. Probably because orders came from Strauss or somewhere even higher up above. Sometimes digital files were too susceptible to hacking, especially in high profile cases.
