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Hotch's POV:
What do we got?" I ask as I pull up to the crime scene.

"Dead male, throat slit his eyes stabbed." The officer says and I uncover the body and see two toothpicks sticking out of the eye-sockets.

On each toothpick is a small American flag. They uncover the body more and I huff when I see the stomach as been cut open and the intestines have sown stitches in the shape of stars.

"This was done here." I say intruiged as I stand in the alley.

"Victim was still alive when he was disemboweled."

"Why didn't anyone hear him screaming?" I ask.

"You see this, the killer cut through his vocal chords. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't scream." The ME explains and I just shake my head.

"He felt everything that was done to him." He adds.

Dee's POV:
Shouldn't you be studying or something?" I hear a familiar voice ask and look over to see Shawn standing there next to the bar.

"I am." I say and he quirks a brow and sits down next to me.

"And how is drinking a...vodka sprite, studying?" He asks, playing along.

"Well, you see that couple over there. He's thinking of proposing to her, and she's expecting it. Even though they'll be divorced within three years because she's secretly banging his brother." I explain and he quirks a brow and then the guy gets on one knee and proposes.

"Impressive, but just because he proposed, doesn't mean-."

"Watch and learn." I whisper and get up and walk over towards the couple.

I fake a trip and accidentally hit the girl's phone off the table along with her purse.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry." I say as I hurriedly pick up the purse, making sure to make the phone screen visible to the new fiancé.

I help get the stuff back on the table and the guy glances and sees multiple text messages from his own brother on his fiancé's phone. Her eyes go wide and she tries to hide the phone as I walk away back to the bar and sit and watch the chaos unravel. He yanks the ring off her finger and calls her a slut and a bitch and storms out of the restaurant, leaving her all alone.

"How did you-."

"And you call yourself a psychologist." I scoff and finish my drink.

"Professor of psychology." He corrects me with a smirk.

"Ah, yes. Aren't you in charge of the grief counseling thingy?" I ask and he chuckles.

"Yeah, why? You need a shoulder to cry on?"

"Nah. I didn't get here till after she went missing or whatever." I say and he nods.

————

I get an email and it says that I've been signed up for another class. Psychology. I furrow my brows and email back, saying that it's a mistake, that I didn't sign up for another class. They respond saying it's already been paid for and the books are on their way to my dorm room. I look at who the Professor is but it only gives me a room number and a time, half hour. The books arrive and I huff and pack them in my bag.

I get dressed, and head out, figuring that Hotch added it to my schedule for me to get a better understanding of college life since Keating's class is the only one I'm actually taking. I get to the class and sit down in the back, which is odd because usually the back of classes are always full. Instead, the front row is filled with girls who are talking amongst themselves.

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