𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗦 | criminal minds
❝ we're not who we used to be ❞
in which K9 trainer nancy chavez moves from
brooklyn, new york to quantico, virginia.
haunted by her past, the young agent joins
the BAU to help solve an unsolvable case...
𝐬𝐞...
˚⋆ ┊ TWO GHOSTS ┊ ⋆˚ ☆⋅⋆ ─ act i. in the place of you and me
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CHAPTER TWO — welcome to the sequel
✎
❝ horror films don't create fear. they release it. ❞ ↳WES CRAVEN
⠀⠀ IT TRULY WAS A RARE OCCASION FOR NANCY TO LET HER NERVESget the better of her. Even when she knew she had the sympathy of anyone that had been told her story. Maybe especially then. There was something about strangers knowing her story that made her so uncomfortable. That people could read a couple of pages from a news article, or some bullshit unofficial biography, or even officers and agents curious enough to learn more about her infamous tale to go digging into the files too graphic or terrifying to release to the public. Because maybe, just maybe, Nancy wanted to keep something of the trauma she'd experienced to herself.
Tinted windows of the FBI's black SUV could only protect her for so long. The slew of reporters from all over Brooklyn may as well have set up tents the way they waited outside the precinct 24/7. It was so much worse than she remembered. But at least this time she wasn't the lone survivor being swarmed on her way out of the hospital. This time, she was Special Agent Chavez, consulting with the BAU. This time, the cameras weren't going to see her cry.
Although, this time, the murders weren't the sole reason for a gathering of reporters and journalists. A certain retired FBI agent had written a book about his experience on the country's most infamous cases. Disguised under an onlook into the psyche of teenage serial killers. An instant hit considering the pop culture themes of the nineties and early 2000s. The world was fascinated with the adolescent mind. And so was Hollywood. Next thing Nancy knew, some D-lister dressed in her clothes was plastered on every billboard, every bus top in town. And the boy that nearly killed her became a legend; just another boogeyman. Like Michael Myers or Freddy Krueger. Nobody stopped to think about the fact that the story was true.
She was haunted, even years after, by a bone-white mask with hollow black eyes and a gaping mouth. Now just a Halloween costume. A scary story to tell around the campfire.
The flashes and reporters yelling her name envied that of a movie premier as soon as the car door opened.
"Nancy, over here!"
"Nancy, is it true the Ghostface killer is back?"
"Was your brush with death the reason you joined the FBI?"
But Agent Hotchner was firm. Arm gripping her shoulder, he guided the junior agent through the crowd as uniformed officers parted the way for them. Her mind felt as though it was shattering to pieces. As though every click, every flash, had her jumping between being a seventeen-year-old high school student terrified for her life, and a twenty-five-year-old FBI agent putting on a fearless facade.
