𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

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Mara walked the crime scene with Reid and Prentiss, the other two agents watching the new girl make connections that was incredibly surprising for someone so fresh out of the academy

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Mara walked the crime scene with Reid and Prentiss, the other two agents watching the new girl make connections that was incredibly surprising for someone so fresh out of the academy. 

They followed the trail of blood up the street, looking for any signs that could help them figure out who this guy was. A million thoughts shot through Mara's head as she created a list of contributions to the profile.

"She lived a little outside of town, was on her way home from work when she broke down," Prentiss explained as they followed the blood. "Why not call for help instead of walking?"

"No service," Mara commented, gesturing to the skid marks. "He made a complete stop here, then hit the gas."

"It's an odd time to be out here at three in the afternoon." Prentiss said.

"Broker," Reid quickly said. "Specialized in foreign markets. Time differences made for some odd hours."

After returning to the station, everyone put their ideas together and created and delivered a profile. So far, Mara was doing well. Both Hotch and Reid stopped themselves from praising her until the end of the case.

They finally found a suspect after ten hours on the job: Ian Coakley. 

Morgan and Tate went to check out his house. The door was cracked open and they clicked on their flashlights, finger hovering over the triggers of their guns. The house was clear and once they reached the garage, they found multiple bloody bumpers.

They went back onto the street to set up a perimeter in the comfort zone. It wasn't until Morgan turned a curb and laid eyes on a black truck. 

"We got him," Tate spoke into the mic. "We're heading southbound on 20."

Their UnSub was attacking red cars that were like the one that killed his family years ago. Yes, a red car did kill his family and paralyzed him forever, but he was the one driving it.

Hotch and the detective finally caught up with the UnSub through a shortcut, following him until he caught up with his next victim. Hotch snatched the wheel and hit the truck, causing all the bikers, including his next victim, to stop.

Hotch was stuck in the truck but the detective got out and started to explain to Coakley that he's the one that killed his family, not another red car. He was antagonizing him. The truck managed to free itself from the wreckage and drive off, just as Morgan and Tate pulled up.

"Go, go!" Hotch waved to them, making them follow Coakley. He had blood running down his forehead but they didn't have time to stop.

"Where's he going?" Tate asked, glancing down at the map. "There's no outlet up here. He's hemmed in."

"No, don't do it, man." Morgan said as him and Tate watched the black truck break through the fence and off the side of the mountain, falling to his death.

Morgan slammed on the breaks to stop from following the truck, Tate grabbing onto the dash to stop from moving with the car.

They got out the car and removed their weapons, making sure that he hadn't somehow survived the crash. The truck burst into flames.

They both let out a deep sigh at the sight of another life lost but they caught him, just not in the way they had hoped.

Mara turned around to get back in the car but tripped on a rock, falling face first into the gravel, head hitting a rock. "Of course."

"Shit, Tate, you alright?" Morgan asked, helping the girl from the ground.

"This," she muttered, standing up and wiping blood from her forehead. "Is why you don't wear heels in the field."

Morgan let out a laugh and Tate playfully slapped his arm before getting back into the vehicle.

Morgan passed her a rag to press against her bleeding forehead. "You hit that thing hard, huh?"

"Shut up."

Once they arrived back at the station, two paramedics set their sights on Hotch and Tate, patching them up. Mara didn't need stitches but she did hit her head pretty hard.

Reid walked up to Mara, his eyebrows furrowing. "You were in the car with Hotch?"

Mara rolled her eyes, trying to convince the paramedic she was fine. "No."

Reid continued to examine the girl, confused on how she got an injury. "Then how-"

"I tripped," she grunted, chuckling. "Hit my head on a rock."

"Tripped?"

"Yes, I tripped," Mara rolled her eyes again, sending Reid a dirty look as he bit back a smile. "On a rock."

Morgan watched from across the room as Reid really struggled to keep his laugh in, his eyes on the new girl. "Whatever, laugh it up, Reid."

"I'm not laughing."

"I survived a serial killer, six armed suspects, but a rock takes me out."

Reid furrowed his eyebrows, stepping closer to her. "Serial killer?"

Reid watched as her entire body language changed, her eyes shifting from his to the paramedic in front of her. She hadn't meant to say it, much less expose a part of herself to her newly form acquaintance. 

Mara quickly recovered and let out a laugh, shrugging. "Joking."

Reid's eyes didn't leave the girl, curiosity started to get the best of him. Him and Mara packed up all their things and then headed to the jet.

Morgan suddenly set an hand on Mara's arm while going up the staircase to get onto the jet. She turned around and furrowed her eyebrows, meeting his eyes.

"Be careful, don't trip."

Mara let out a laugh and smacked his arm again before heading onto the jet, eager to just close her eyes and relax.








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