Innocent Son

Chapter Six

The next day passed almost without a hitch. Almost. Hotch had basically forced me to stay working at the station, which was fine with me. It gave me the chance to really work out what I wanted to say to the team once this was over. I ended up writing it down on a scrap piece of paper and shoving it in my pocket. I knew I was going to have to tell them that I was trans. Better after a case where you're a potential target than during.

Still, I was nervous for Hotch and Reid's reactions. Sure, they were supportive of trans people but were they willing to date one? I didn't ponder it very long.

We ended up giving the profile in the early evening. We were able to, based on the latest victim, give a rough idea of who the unsub was. It gave me a little more confidence that we were going to be able to catch this guy.

"We're looking for a white male in his late twenties, early thirties." Hotch started. "Most likely has a day job and is likely antisocial, though he's escalating so he's missed work recently."

"He finds his victims through social media. Cis-passing trans people who post photos of themselves at pride parades or with trans pride colours." Morgan followed. He was leaned up against a table, the officers eyes trained on him.

"What does 'cis-passing' mean?" one of the officers asked. His hair was dark but beginning to grey. He was scribbling in a notebook everything we were saying.

"It means the person would look outwardly like someone who was cis, or not trans." I answered simply. Morgan looked at me after I answered. "The unsub or unknown subject is targeting these people because he believes they're lying to society about who they really are. His killing was likely triggered by him finding out someone he knew was trans. He feels emasculated by trans people." I felt bile make its way up my throat. I swallowed it down the best I could.

"He's a sexual sadist. He rapes and tortures his victims not only as a form of punishment but also as a way for him to get off." Prentiss continued with the profile. "The man we're looking for will feel like he has no power or control in his day to day life." I could see officers begin to whisper to each other. Making faces at us like we were crazy. What were they saying? I could feel my face contorting in fear. Reid stepped in, clearing his throat to get the attention of the officers back to our profile.

"He likely has been charged or arrested for other crimes. Petty theft, assault or rape. He's a mission-oriented serial killer and will stop at nothing to kill his victims." he explained carefully. "He holds a great deal of anger towards his victims, like he's been victimized by them personally."

"Are there any questions?" Hotch asks once Reid had finished. Reid half sat, half leaned against the desk behind him. Careful not to knock the things on the desk over. He fiddled with the button on his cardigan, tugging and twisting at it. The voice of an officer brought my attention back to profile.

"Why do we even bother catching this guy?" The comment made my heart pound in my chest. I could feel my breath hitch in my throat. I didn't realize people, nevertheless police, had the audacity to be this outwardly bigoted in this day and age. "Isn't he doing us a favour by getting rid of these trannies?" he chuckled and nudged the officer next to him. Ringing buried its way into my ears. I could feel and see Hotch speaking next to me, but what he said I had no idea. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Their touch sent fear surging through my body, red and hot.

I turned to face them. Prentiss' concerned face looked back at me. She said something, but I wasn't sure what she said, the ringing digging itself deeper into my skull. My body felt like it was on fire. Every nerve was lighting up and setting my skin ablaze. I was being pulled away from the group, and into our board room. It didn't feel like I was walking with my feet, instead like I was floating next to Prentiss. She closed the door behind me and shut the blinds that overlooked the bullpen of the station so no one could see in. I sat myself in a chair that was pushed up against the wall, just underneath the window. I didn't really know Prentiss that well. I could count the conversations we'd had on a single hand. Still, I felt safe with her, in a way I didn't feel with anyone else on the team at the moment.