Criminal Minds Justice and Hearts

(**Author's Note**: Times are not supposed to be continuous, i.e., a scene does not necessarily last two hours because the next takes place two hours later.)

**Reid's house, 5:30 AM, Wednesday.**

The late moon peered down into the autodidact's home and all was dark. The light made the living room barely visible through the enormous window: part of the counter, a couch, and a bookshelf. Books lay in stacks all over the room — a few on the edge of the counter, an open one on the couch, and probably twenty to fifty on the floor. They trailed from the bookshelves and their path was random. Some of the books looked as if they were crawling toward the back door.

If one followed them up the stairs, he would eventually find Dr. Reid in his room. The room was cramped; Reid towered over a tiny green desk on a chair that just barely fit the desk. Beads of sweat covered his face and random strands of hair clung to his forehead. He looked like a ghost in his white shirt. The sleeves were rolled up as Reid ripped the pen against the paper to make his point. Crumbled papers surrounded him with open scratch marks.

After some more scribbling, a tearing of paper could be heard, then a loud whack. Reid dived onto his bed and then clenched his legs against his chest. He was practically whimpering at this point. The open notebook taunted him from the floor.

"Shut up!" His ears rung and the room was a live mouth about to close. He wasn't even sure if it was his own voice that yelled. With his hands shaking, Reid reached out to spread the curtains of the window that overlooked his bed. Sun rise was imminent.

His eyes and cheeks shone as the light assaulted them. He buried his face into his hands, sobbing and shaking violently.

Gasping for some clarity, Reid wiped his face with his pillow and took deep breaths. He grabbed his phone from the tiny nightstand next to his bed.

"You've reached supervisory special agent Aaron Hotchner. Please leave a message."

Beep.

"H-hey... um, Hotch... it's uh, it's-well, it's Reid." The phone jittered in his hand and his breath wheezed as he spoke. "I can't... I don't... think I can make it to work. I can't work today. I don't think-I can't, but I don't think... uh, I'm, uh... I am so sorry." Click.

The phone slid across the nightstand and banged against the desk. It fell as the battery popped out, doing multiple somersaults through the air.

**BAU conference room, 8:00 AM.**

Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi walked through the doors first, sitting down at the round table. Both men gripped a steaming styrofoam cup in one hand. Silence was apparently seated in the chair between them.

"You know..." Rossi sipped his coffee and grinned. "We don't get time alone like this."

The corners of Hotch's mouth curled slightly, but after a split second, returned to a grimace. His eyes were as black as the coffee he was staring into.

"Reid gave me a call this morning around six. He's not coming to work today."

Rossi didn't budge. "Did you try—"

"I tried that. Goes straight to voice mail," He sighed. "I'm concerned about his health."

Rossi shrugged and took another sip of his coffee. The two men were almost copying each other: their arms were folded underneath them on the table and their eyes were melting from the steam of their drinks.

The door creaked and in walked Prentiss and Morgan. Hotch and Rossi continued to participate in staring contests with their beverages.

Neither of them even took a seat as the door silently shut behind them.

"What's going on here?" Morgan pulled a chair out for himself and kicked back, taking a gulp of his coffee.

Prentiss echoed him, "Yeah, you guys. Is everything alright?" Her eyes were wide as she tightly gripped the cup in her hand.

"Take a seat, Prentiss," Hotch said. Puzzled, she sat down and crossed her legs. The grimace on her face was so intractable it's as if she was mocking Hotch.

Her face reddened and her eyes began to glimmer. "Did somebody d—"

"No, everyone is _fine_," Hotch said as he bolted from his seat. Prentiss recoiled, followed by Hotch sighing and shaking his head. "Look, I promise that..." JJ and Garcia hustled into the door and quietly scurried to open seats. Truthfully, they were just trying to dodge the invisible lazers that Hotch's eyes shoot.

Hotch went to the front of the room, taking a deep breath before he spoke, and then said, "Reid left a message on my phone this morning that says he won't be coming into work today. I tried calling him back; it goes straight to voice mail. I know we are all concerned about him, especially given his recent headaches and demeanor. I am too."

Everyone's lips were fixed to speak, but Rossi was first. "Play the message." Hotch nodded.

The group was collectively shaken and horrified.

"You know, even for someone who can get as nervous as Reid," Morgan said, "I've never heard him stutter or stumble like _that_. Either he's drunk or—"

"He's having a panic attack," Prentiss said. "Listen, Reid has been incredibly stressed out lately. Says he doesn't know what he truly cares about anymore, he can't sleep, feels he's deteriorating... that sort of thing. Someone needs to go check on him."

Rossi began, "Reid's a smart kid. If he was putting himself in danger..."

"If Reid's a smart kid, then why would he put himself in danger?" Prentiss fired back.

"I never implied he _was _in danger. I'm just saying he would know what to do _if _he was in danger."

"Reid's at a scary age," Morgan said. "His mom is schizophrenic and he's in his late twenties. If he's having an episode—"

"But he's likely not experiencing a psychotic break," Garcia said quickly. Everyone turned to look at her. "If he's experiencing anything related to schizophrenia, it's a panic attack as a result of the prodrome of the disease. One of the common pre-onset symptoms of schizophrenia is crippling anxiety."

"Shouldn't we be doing something right now?" Prentiss said, her face red and hot. "He could be hurt and we're all just sitting around speculating..."

"She's right," Garcia whispered.

"I can go check on the kid," Morgan said, shifting his eye contact to Hotch.

Hotch calculated for a moment, and then said, "That won't be necessary. Prentiss, I want you to visit Reid's home and see what's going on. The rest of you, I will need your help for today's case. JJ, if you don't mind, please begin briefing."

The room shuffled around in a sort of indecisive, pouting manner as JJ took the front of the room. Hotch returned to his chair and right before the door closed behind Prentiss, he said, "Keep us updated."

Prentiss turned to look at Hotch and nodded.

"Okay, so, we've got a string of recent murders all occurring in libraries within the state of Rhode Island. Three confirmed male victims, two female victims..."

**Prentiss, opening quote: **Author G.K. Chesterson wrote, "A madman is not someone who has lost his reason. A madman is someone who has lost everything but his reason."

**Prentiss pulls up to Reid's house, 9:15 AM.**

She stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Her feet pushed off of the ground and when she saw the books scattered about the living room, she drew her pistol. Reid's house was beautifully elegant and spacious; a mammoth window stretched across the front of the house and the roof looked more like the top of a castle. Expensive and Gothic style.

Prentiss fumbled with the lock-pick in her hands and frustrated, just jiggled it inside the doorknob. She bit her tongue, but finally, the door unlocked. She opened the door and slid in silently. Her gun was raised, but she lowered it after locking the door behind her. She looked like she was tiptoeing across a field with landmines as she made it to the stairs, carefully avoiding each book.

Coming to a hallway that went left and right, her eyes followed the book trail. She steadily walked into Reid's room, her gun still in her hand. On sight of Reid, who was curled up in a ball on his bed, Prentiss holstered her weapon and quickly approached him. He was breathing deeply and slowly, his eyes shut. Prentiss reached out slowly. Right before her hand cupped his cheek, she felt her cell vibrating.

"Agent Prentiss. What do you need, Hotch?" She was whispering, her back turned to Reid.

"What is Reid's status?"

"Um... well, he's certainly not lucid. He's asleep."

"Prentiss, we are about to board a plane headed to Rhode Island. It's for the case. The plane leaves in an hour and we're already behind schedule."

"Hotch, I..."

"There is no need to rush him here for the sake of this case. We will do without him for now. I want you to stay with him and make sure he's alright. Stay in contact."

"Gotcha."

The black-haired agent sat her phone down on the nightstand. She saw the scattered innards of Reid's phone all over the floor. She picked everything up and placed the battery back in, causing the screen to brightly flash and play a piercingly loud power-on tone. Prentiss froze as her eyes were glued to Reid. He stirred, but was still soundly asleep. _Thank God._

The agent looked around the room with a mental sigh. _This place is an absolute atrocity. Where do I start first? That open notebook is really beckoning for me, but there's all these nice paper balls also waiting to be unraveled._

She settled on the notebook as she sat back in the desk chair, putting one leg over the other. _First page is blank_. She turned the page. _Also blank... _Quickly flipping through the rest, she sighed and gently laid the notebook on the desk. As she was about to forage the floor for information, Prentiss noticed a piece of paper underneath the desk lamp. Writing in blue ink was visible through the folds. She grabbed it with two fingers, placing her hand over the base of the lamp, and pulled it out from underneath.

The letter was folded in three horizontally; she unfolded the top and it read, "To a woman whom I will never meet." Prentiss parted her lips as her heart started to rattle her chest.

**The Rhode Island Sheriff Station and Academy, 12:45 PM**

BAU sans Reid and Prentiss landed safely in Rhode Island. Hotch and JJ are led into an enormous police complex, The Rhode Island Sheriff Station and Academy, followed by Rossi and Morgan. The base coat of the complex is black, but there are yellow and gray stripes that wrap around the middle of it.

The interior is flamboyant; the wallpaper looks like varying colors of silk and the carpet tastefully matches whichever room one happens to be in. The walls along the hallways are lined with faux-candles that are merely bright bulbs encased in glass. Along the hallway walls are desks with ordinary office supplies such as notebooks, hole punches, printers, etc.

The staff chief approached Hotch and JJ. He's short, around 5'7'. His forearms are like tree trunks and his black coat looks like it can hardly contain them. His shape is round, but he is seemingly fit. His light beard is grayed; had that not been the case, he would look very young. He has a buzz cut, but his hairline looks healthy and defined.

"Hello Agent Hotchner, I'm staff chief Jonathan Schmidt, pleasure to meet you," he said with a firm handshake, firm smile, and rigid posture. His voice is ground up gravel with extra grit.

"Chief Schmidt, excellent to meet you," Hotch replied as he gestured to his right, "I apologize for being late. This is Jennifer Jareau, JJ, our liaison with the media and police agencies."

JJ and Schmidt shook hands with banal greetings and robotic smiles. Hotch introduced Morgan and Rossi — same thing minus the smile.

As Schmidt led them through the middle of the conference room, he began to ramble: "This case is real crazy. We've never seen anything like it. Ever face a killer that's so smart it makes you wonder if he's truly human? This is one of those guys, definitely."

The group was eventually stopped in front of a board with pictures of bodies and papers with random letters and numbers written. The fuzz of chattering cops surrounded the BAU in a sort of bubble, but they paid it no mind. The bodies all died in mundane poses. Schmidt had said during briefing with JJ that no one even knew they were dead until they tried to get them to move. Their mouths were closed, their eyes open yet focused, and no defensive marks or anything — it was assumed they all died during reading.

"Man, this is creepy," Morgan muttered. "These are the sort of mysteries you hear about that frequently go unsolved."

He looked over at Rossi who seemed absorbed into the papers with code written on them.

"We're not going to be able to crack those without Reid I bet," Morgan said.

"Hmm... maybe not every single line of code, but I think I've figured out the very first message at the top." Morgan's ears stood up as his eyes darted to Rossi.

"The very first message says 'afterlife' in Persian... You hit the nail on the head when you mentioned crimes like these going unsolved. This isn't the first time police have seen something like this, although it would be the second."

"Schmidt, are the doctors that performed the autopsies available for questions?" Hotch asked. JJ and him had left Morgan and Rossi to analyze the evidence on the board.

**Autopsy room, 2:00 PM**

"There is absolutely nothing about these corpses that suggest homicide," the pathologist said.

"Absolutely nothing, or just nothing salient?" Hotch asked.

"Well, the latter if we're going to be optimistic about it... you know, the only thing these victims medically share in common is a minute puncture wound underneath the ear. Perhaps that is of interest to you?" He slowly lifted up a girl's ear which revealed a tiny, precise hole. He used his finger to circle the area of interest to Hotch and JJ.

"There's the M.O.," Hotch said. "What would you say is cause of death?"

"That's the most baffling part," he said as he tossed his gloves into a steel trash bin. "I honestly have no final diagnosis. You would think poisoning is consistent with the puncture wound, but it's not. The wound is clean and the autopsy only revealed slightly abnormal innards."

"Abnormal?" JJ raised her eyebrows.

"Don't get your hopes up; by 'abnormal,' I mean these characteristics are usually healthily permissible," he frowned. "However, these organ abnormalities appear in every victim. As I have them laid out," he began pointing, "number one had an enlarged heart. It was roughly five percent bigger than the normal size of a human heart. This could be problematic, but her prior medical records lacked any cardiac difficulties."

"Number two had an enormous liver; I'd say it was about forty percent bigger. This is astounding, almost to the point of anomaly. Number three's veins were constricted very tightly and she probably passed out instantly, dying shortly thereafter. If you guys are considering poison as the murder weapon, good luck finding whatever this bastard is using. All of these deaths appear natural on the surface."

Hotch stood as still as a tree with his eyes magnetically attached to the bodies. "Thank you for your time, doctor."

The pathologist smiled and shook Hotch's hand, "Glad I could help you, even if it wasn't much. Best of luck to you both. I really hope you can catch this guy; he's tricky."

Hotch's arm was stiff during the handshake and he left with closed lips.

"JJ," Hotch said as he buckled his seat belt and started the black SUV, "Call Schmidt and tell him to send a team to investigate the autopsy room. Something was suspicious about the pathologist."

**Reid's house, 3:00 PM**

Emily yawned, performing a vicious stretch in the process. Her body ached and her muscles jittered as she retracted herself back into a half moon — only this time Reid made it a full moon. His eyes barely opened as he looked down at Emily's inky black, smooth hair. He ran a shaky hand through it, closing his eyes again and taking in her scent.

"I just never knew you felt like this," her words washed across Reid's neck like warm ocean tides.

(**Closing A/N**: Here's how the chapters will work... episodes will span across one, two, or maybe even three chapters. You will know an episode has ended by a closing quote. That means this one isn't quite over yet! In the meantime, tell me what you think.)


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Criminal Minds, Drama, Romance