Chapter 21

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a/n 

Heyyyyy I know I said updates would be more regular but writing angst takes a very specific mindset i fear. 

Anyway author updates for you! The Tortured Poets Department was released and It might be one of my fave taylor albums honestly. Who's afraid of little old me? is my song and honestly as a tortured poet myself i LOVE.

I've also realised my last relationship was my Matty Healy which is so fun to think about, love ya if ur reading this girl! (this is funny bc she used to read this fic guys) 

Anyway this is a very heavy chapter, cws include:

CW: suicide, toxic relationships, specifically abandonment, guns

 if you aren't comfortable with any of these please do whats safe for you, ily!

enjoy my loves!


Y/n pov

Emily had assigned me to going through evidence at the station with her, and I could feel her helicoptering. I sat idly at the same desk for hour once we'd landed, occasionally getting relayed new information as I went over the reports. By lunch I felt like I'd brushed off Emily's comments of 'are you okay?' 'do you need something to eat or drink?' and constant looks of concern and worry hundreds of times, but if I was being completely honest with myself even if I wanted everyone to get off my back, the fact she kept caring for me even when I was outwardly showing nothing for her made me all the more desperate to get out of the spiral to show her how much I appreciate and love her. I'M SORRY?? LOVE??? Not the time to get into that oh my god.

In the few hours we had been at the station, we had made some progress already. The unsub had been kidnapping and then killing queer women so far, 3 so far, and no precise time parameters; this unsub was so disorganised, and so uncertain in everything they did it almost made me nervous. Through interviews with friends and family the rest of the team had determined each victim had similar interests relating to interests and looks, and even social circles in some cases.

Emily and I were sat in the conference room at the precinct flitting through the information in silence as Pen rang for the millionth time today. 'Good afternoon my loves, I was digging into any social media background to see if I could find anyone in common when I stumbled on a small nugget of information, it could be coincidence but it might be something...' she trailed off.

'What is it Pen?' I feel like I'm being so short with everyone oh my god.

'Oh well...' she stumbled as I answered, not quite experiencing my coldness first hand so far today, 'I was digging and I found that all three victims had a vacay from social media- all media together if I'm being more exact. There isn't a DM in sight, not even an email...' she trailed off again as we heard a gasp over the line, 'and it seems each of our victims were in long term relationships that had become long distance, their poor partners weren't even told they were taking a hiatus.' Oh.

'I think we have our profile guys, uh Em could you call the rest of the team back to the station? I'm just gonna go to the bathroom quickly.' I said getting up, tears threatening to prick my eyes before i could hide myself.

I left, choosing the route which meant i had to go behind her, getting her eyes off me, squeezing her shoulder slightly as an act of reassurance, before escaping to solitude.

Tears fell the second I locked the door, my hands taking residence on the sides of the sink as I looked back at my reflection in the mirror. I watched as they ran effortlessly down my face, reaching my chin, and falling into the sink below. I watched myself for a few minutes, my racing heartbeat slowly calming as i felt the lump that'd built throughout the day slip away.

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 24 ⏰

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