𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘. ( 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 )

chapter thirteen

TW: mention of murder, mention and feature of gangs, mention and reference to sexual assault and child grooming, mention of guns, sexual references, brief feature of misogynists, mild language, police presence.

profiler, profiled, part one of one.

" a man who can't trust himself can never really trust anyone else. " - jean françois paul de gondi

-

"Ok, turn back and observe," Spencer said, gesturing to the four women gathered around his desk. Spencer often engaged in something he liked to call 'physics magic' when they didn't have cases, just for something to do. And he had been showing his make-shift rocket to JJ, Garcia, and Genevieve when it had hit Emily (the new agent who had been brought in to replace Elle) in the face as she walked over to her desk. Everyone had gotten slightly scared when they saw it hit her, but the woman was amicable, awkward, and knew how to take a joke, so she wasn't upset, and insisted that he show her.

But of course, because it was magic, none of them could watch his rocket in the making and had to turn their backs while he prepared it.

They all stared in anticipation as it fizzled, and then popped. Everyone let out a shocked cry as it did so, and laughed until it landed at the feet of their unit chief, who was walking in for the day. Garcia, JJ, Genevieve and Emily all hastened to split up, effectively throwing Spencer under the bus as their boss picked up the rocket and walked over to his desk.

"Physics magic, Reid?" Hotch asked, arching his eyebrow.

"Yes, sir," Spencer said meekly, looking down at his hands. Keeping a stony expression on his face, the unit chief placed the rocket back down on his desk.

"Reid, we talked about this," He said sternly. He turned to walk away, and as he did so, he flashed the young genius a smile. "You're really starting to get some distance on those,"

+++

The team were a man down, as Derek had taken some personal time to go visit his family in Chicago for his mother's birthday, which, according to Spencer, was an annual occurrence. But it didn't really matter, as there weren't any cases for them to be worked on. So, Hotch had let them all go home early.

Genevieve was attempting to make dinner - peanut stir fry, and it wasn't going too well. You should just stick to the one thing you're good at - ordering take out. She thought to herself as she taste-tested her creation, grimacing as she did so. Her phone rang, and she turned around to get it, sucking on her thumb, which had been burned in the process of cooking.

"Taylor," She answered the phone.

"Agent Taylor, there has been an emergency recall on agents in the Behavioural Analysis Unit, authorised by Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. All personnel are expected in no less than half an hour," The robotic voice of the Quantico receptionist, Beth Sanders, said monotonously.

"Alright, I'll be there. Thanks, Beth," She said, mentally mapping out how long it would take her to grab a falafel wrap from the food cart a block away from work.

+++

The SUV drive to the Chicago police precinct was more quiet than usual. It's like everybody was too scared to bring up what had been said on the jet. Hotch had received a call from Chicago P.D, saying that Derek had been arrested and was currently being held in custody for homicide.

"Special Agent Hotchner, FBI. I'm looking for Detective Gordinski," Hotch said sharply to the first cop he saw as the team strode into the precinct.