International Love

Unfazed

TW: Rape, abuse, childhood trauma, murder
(Let me know if I missed any)

Please take caution in reading this chapter. This chapter mentions a detailed scene that involves rape. I try my best to write it as feeling saving as possible, but rape is a deep and dark subject. If you are offended by this chapter, please let me know. I will be 100% willing to delete it. You don't have to explain yourself, just tell me to delete it and I will. Love you all<33.

Here we are again.  Chicago, Illinois. In the neighborhood I grew up in, and sitting in the police station. I was still filled with the feeling of emptiness.

I remember the last time I was in this station. 7 bronze. Matt was sent to sit by my side then, but I know that cannot be the case this time. I needed to work this case to prove something to myself. Or maybe to the team.

"Y/n, your dad is here." Elijah came over

"I don't want to talk to him." I said in a emotionless way

"What do you want me to tell him?"

"Tell him I have too much work to do, or something" I said as I flipped through files looking for more about the author, Lawrence Miller.

The team had been in the room, but in small groups spread around. Them now all looking at me again.

"Hmm?" I hummed in question

"Your not gonna go be with your dad, you can take a break." Hotch seemed concerned

"No, I don't want to talk to him. I need to focus on the case." The team all gave each other looks back and forth

"If you knew her dad like I know her dad, you wouldn't blame her." Elijah spoke breaking the silence

I continued to work on the files. Looking for any other offenses this bastard may have.

"We need at least two people to go take a look at the body." Erin threw into the air

"I want to go." I spoke sternly and confidently

"Rossi and me will go with her." Derek added

Without hesitation I sat in the drivers seat. I knew these streets well. My hands were beginning to sweat, leaving marks on the steering wheel.

What if seeing her body like this is too much to handle?

I pulled quickly into the parking lot. Parking the car and getting out, Rossi and Derek beside me, Rossi holding the door for me.

"We're with the BAU, here to look at the last victim" we all showed our credentials

"Right this way." The man lead us to the room and let us take a look first

My mother was lying under a blue sheet. She hates blue. I thought to myself. She did. She said it always looked tacky on her.

I pulled back the sheet gingerly. Letting it fold and rest right above her chest. Tears threatened my eyes and my coffee threatened to come back up.

Her hair was laid as nicely as possible. Surrounding her petite shoulders. Her makeup had been wiped away. Mom always wore foundation to cover her freckles and sun marks. She would outline her eye brows, and used expensive mascara, she often wore a red lipstick. One that matched the color of ripe cherries.

Her earrings and necklace were left on. I bought her that necklace. I bought it for her the first Christmas I was away at college and couldn't make it home.

People say that when you die you look peaceful, like your soul is no longer in pain. My mom didn't look like her soul was painless. She looked hurt. Not the physical pain, but the emotional pain that fills the mind.
I examined my moms face, terrified to look any further down, not wanting to see the injuries.