"I think I've got something."
Reid comes pacing into the room.
"Ten years ago there was a murderer. Eighteen year old male, white. He attended Missouri Tech for two semesters. He was half way through his last semester when he got killed. "
"Missouri Tech?"
Reid nods.
"Does that mean something to you?" Hotch asks.
"I did a semester at Missouri Tech. It's when I just started out. They offered the courses I was trying to study for criminology. I transferred to DC right after but I..I think I remember that guy. Allen Cross."
Reid nods.
"You knew the victim."
"I met him a couple times. The guy was a grade a douchebag, but he didn't deserve to die. They never solved that case."
Now with the new information, Hotch could understand why you'd been getting all those gut feelings. It could have been a memory trying to come back.
"We need to compile a list of everyone who had any kind of interaction with Allen Cross." Reid starts stacking the papers, and Morgan has Garcia on speed dial, ready to give her all the information she needs so they can narrow down their search.
"Hotch I knew one of Allen's close friends. His name is Jason Morale. I'll give Garcia a call, maybe he's still in the area. We were in the same class. He could help us. He must have known someone who had it in for Allen. "
"Alright, I'm going with you."
You agree, and everyone is already getting back to work.
As you're driving through the streets, you can feel the memories filtering back. It's weird. You hadn't even spent very long in this town. It's why it has completely slipped your mind. But around that time you'd been dealing with so much. Your father, your powers. The weight of trying to be normal has taken up every part of your life.
"Are you sure you should be doing this?" Hotch doesn't ever question team members' actions unless he's worried.
"Someone has to. I may know who the unsub is. I should have put it together sooner."
"Dwelling on the past won't do any good." You know that, but you can't help.
"Thanks for always having my back."
As your boss, you know he'll be there to support the decisions you make, and help you through mistakes as well. But as your friend, there's a deeper dependence, and you're thankful for that. He places a hand on your knee with a smile.
It takes a few minutes to get to your destination. When you do, Hotch knocks on the door.
"Jason Morale, FBI."
There's brief shuffling, and then the door opens. Both you and Hotch are holding your badges. He looks up, and when his eyes land on you, they light up.
"(Y/N)?"
You're a bit taken. You didn't think he'd actually remember you.
"Yes, we'd like to ask you a few questions, may we come in?"
"Sure, sure."
He smiles widely, stepping aside. You enter, and then Hotch does, closing the door.
"This is crazy, I can't believe you're with the FBI. Then again you were always kind of like a protector. You should have seen her. You know she once drop kicked this guy who grabbed her friend's butt. Man he was a scumbag. He never even saw it coming."
"I didn't know she had such an interesting past." Hotch comments. You know for a fact he's gonna bring that up again. You clear your throat.
"I'm sorry to say we're not here on a friendly visit."
"I figured. I saw the news. You're here about that spree killer right?"
You nod. He moves to the kitchen, grabbing a glass.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" You shake your head, and Hotch declines as well. When he takes a seat, you both follow.
"So what do you wanna know?"
"I know it's been a long time, but do you remember anyone who had it in for Allen? A rival, or maybe just another disgruntled student."
"I'm sure I don't have to tell you how many people had it in for Allen." You were afraid of him saying that.
"You were close friends with him, his behavior never bothered you?"
Jason's jaw clenches for a brief second at Hotch's question, and you could be misreading, but you swore you caught a hint of contempt. He smiles.
"We were in college. Young and stupid. There were times where I thought he did go too far, but that was just how he acted. No harm no foul right."
"Except now people are dying." You fire back. Hotch sends you a side glance.
"Yeah, well can't say I'm shedding tears. You know what they were like (Y/N). They weren't exactly saints. I don't know who this guy is, but I'm not so sure he's doing such a bad thing." You study his face and posture, sending Hotch a look.
"Is it okay if I use your bathroom?"
"Yeah, it's just up the stairs to the left. " You nod, standing.
"I'll be right back." You make a venture up the stairs, and Hotch stands when his phone rings, pulling it out of his pocket.
"You can take it, I'm not going anywhere." Hotch nods, stepping into the other room to take the call.
~
Your excuse to use the bathroom worked like a charm. Stepping into his bedroom, you look for anything. Some lead that would confirm what you were starting to believe. You walk carefully into the room, the creak of the floorboard echoing. Turning your head, you begin sifting through his closet, cupboards and draws. The feeling you've been experiencing all day has returned. You massage your temples, pressing your hand to the wall. You can feel a migraine coming, and more than anything you'd like some break in this case. It's like you're so close to figuring this all out. But there's nothing relatively out of the ordinary. Your shoulders slump.
"Maybe I was wrong."
"I don't think so."
You aren't even given a chance to fully turn around, something hits you right behind the head and your body caves.
~
Hotch clicks the button to hang up the phone. That call had been from the morgue. Aside from the information they'd already gathered, there was nothing defining about the man's death. He'd been hoping for some kind of signature left that could link the two kills. The first was ten years ago, so it's obvious if the killer was the same, they'd grown. Learn from their prior mistakes.
He was ready for some kind of breakthrough. Truthfully Jason was starting to look like a good suspect. His phone rings again, and this time he recognizes the caller ID.
"Morgan, what's wrong, did you find something?"
"Hotch it's Jason, he's the unsub!!"
"Damn it!!"
He'd let his guard down, with a killer no less.
Spinning around he draws his gun. Rushing through the rooms, he makes it all the way inside only to hear the screeching of tires. He paces back to the front, but he's too late, the car is turning around the corner, out of sight.
