the violet effect // spencer reid

8 • unanswered questions

• chapter warnings: spoilers for s2e11, mention of murder, prostitution, dead bodies, mention of Jack the Ripper, mental illnesses •

previously:

Spencer froze for a moment, then quickly walked out of the office, his mind suddenly distracted by Penelope’s comment.

•••

Spencer, Violet, and Derek arrived at Nathan Harris's home to speak with him and his mother. As they approached the front door, it swung open, revealing a blonde woman with a questioning look.

"Yes?" she asked, eyeing them cautiously.

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid with the FBI, and these are Agents Hankel and Morgan," Spencer introduced them, his voice calm and professional. "We're here to speak with your son, Nathan."

"Why?" The woman’s expression shifted from confusion to concern.

Violet stepped forward, offering a reassuring smile. "We just need to ask him a few questions. It's important."

The woman hesitated, clearly unsure. "I need you to explain what's going on before I let you talk to him."

Spencer's gaze remained steady. "Your son came to speak with me this morning about a murder case."

The woman’s eyes widened. "Why would Nathan know anything about a murder?"

At that moment, Nathan, who had obviously heard the conversation, appeared at the top of the stairs. Slowly, he descended, his face showing a mix of reluctance and resignation. "Mom, it’s true. I did talk to him." The faint sound of blasting music came from his room. "Do you mind if I speak with them alone?"

The woman gave a tight nod. "Okay, but we’ll stay out here."

With that, Nathan led Violet and Spencer into his room, the door creaking slightly as it shut behind them. Spencer immediately surveyed the room, taking in the clutter and the oppressive bass of the music. He crossed the room and turned down the stereo, trying to cut through the tension.

Nathan spoke, his voice oddly calm. "I knew if you were really good, you'd find me."

Spencer glanced at him, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Is that why you were waiting for me? You wanted to get caught?"

Violet started examining the room, her eyes scanning the contents for anything that might give them a clue. As Spencer continued speaking to Nathan, his focus shifted.

"What do you mean, 'get caught'?"

Spencer’s eyes fell on Nathan’s laptop, which was half-open on a desk nearby. He moved toward it and, without hesitation, opened it further. The boy visibly tensed.

"Hey," Violet said sharply, stepping forward. "Stay right there. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Spencer, disturbed by what he saw on the screen, glanced up at Nathan. "It’s just the text for a graphic novel," he muttered under his breath.

Nathan’s response was unnervingly calm. "Yeah, it’s about Jack the Ripper. It’s a famous case."

Spencer's face tightened. "About killing prostitutes?"

Nathan didn’t flinch. "Yeah. It’s just a story."

"This isn’t a game, kid," Spencer said, his voice taking on a harder edge.

"I know," Nathan replied, sounding oddly resigned.

Spencer sighed, his frustration growing. "You knew specific details about a murder that haven’t been made public."

Nathan’s expression darkened slightly, but he quickly tried to defend himself. "But I didn’t kill her. I just... I really wanted to."

•••

Later, Nathan was brought in for questioning. Spencer and Derek decided it would be best if they handled the interrogation themselves.

The two agents sat across from Nathan, the room thick with silence. Derek paced back and forth, while Spencer sat still, lost in thought. Finally, Derek spoke, his voice steady but firm.

"Nathan, if you didn’t do it, how’d you know details of the murder?"

The boy’s eyes darted nervously. "I saw the body. It was early, before school. She was dressed in red, had been stabbed a lot, and her hair was chopped off."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "Where was this?"

"In an alley off of K Street," Nathan answered, his voice low. "They take men down there for sex. I see them do it all the time."

Spencer leaned forward, his expression hardening. "What were you doing down there?"

Nathan shrugged, his face blank. "I don’t know. I just... end up there sometimes. I stay out all night and come back in the morning. If my mom’s at work, I don’t even bother going home."

There was a palpable sadness in the boy’s voice, a kind of helplessness that made the agents uneasy.

"Why didn’t you call the police?" Derek asked, leaning in closer.

Nathan’s shoulders slumped. "I don’t know."

Spencer, watching the boy carefully, added, "The prostitutes we talked to say you’ve been watching them."

"I never touched them," Nathan insisted, his voice shaky.

Derek shot a look at Spencer, who was deep in thought.

"Do you fantasize about having sex with them?" Derek asked bluntly.

"No," Nathan answered quickly. "I told you. I think about killing them."

The agents exchanged glances, both unsure how to move forward. Spencer spoke again, his voice softer now.

"Is it possible that you actually killed those prostitutes, but you just don’t want to admit it to yourself?"

Nathan’s answer was immediate and resolute. "No."

Spencer’s gaze remained fixed on him. "Then why’d you run away from me earlier?" His voice was full of confusion.

Nathan’s eyes flickered with a brief flash of fear before he spoke. "Because... I don’t know. I thought you’d say I was crazy and that there’s no way to stop it."

The words hung in the air, heavy with truth. Spencer sat back in his chair, suddenly realizing the weight of Nathan’s isolation.

In a way, Nathan wasn’t so different from Spencer himself. Feeling out of place. Not quite fitting in. He understood that struggle all too well.