Fine Line [ spencer reid x reader ] ✔️

THREE

warnings: mentions of suicide, slight descriptions of drug scars
also no one come for Y/n...zon't zo it.

"This guy stood up and told a story about his brother," Rossi says. "His family was so poor; they shared the same room until they were fifteen."

"We heard the same story," Hotch replies, nodding at Rossi. "His name is Peter; the brother's name is James. James committed suicide."

Hotch had shown up earlier in the day. Spencer wonders what it is he was doing beforehand, but he doesn't have time to dwell on that thought right now. All that matters is catching the unsub, who the team has finally pinned down. He leans against one of the desks, eyes glancing around at the group. Y/n stands a few feet away, her right hand curled into a fist, nails scratching at the palm of her hand.

Spencer knits his brows, eyes flicking up to her face. Her eyes are fixed on the team, the plaid long-sleeve button up tucked into some slacks. Her hair is pushed back into a ponytail, and she taps her heel on the ground lightly.

"So we have three names." Spencer tunes back into the conversation, turning his head to Hotch. "Peter and James, and the University of Brassard."

"That'll make it easier for you, Garcia," JJ says.

"Uh..." Spencer starts, rubbing at the back of his ear.

"Reid?" Hotch questions.

"Angels of mercy, they repeat the same event over and over again. If the story he tells is true, then he's leaving one key piece of information out." Spencer looks around at the team. "The even that started it all."

"His brother didn't kill himself," Y/n states, tilting her head. "Our unsub killed him."

"The fire caused such grief and suffering that it became the trigger," Spencer explains.

"And unable to stop himself, he targets someone he believes needs his help." Morgan sighs.

"At first he keeps to some kind of timeline," Y/n says, taking a step forward toward the group. "A few weeks. But the last two kills were within days."

"He's devolving," Prentiss says.

"I got it," Garcia says. "It's from nineteen-eighty-four. It's the Brassard College University Newspaper. It says here James Redding was the youngest suicide in Pennsylvanian history. And his father, Charles Redding, was a professor. Creep. And yes, before you ask, I've tracked down his current address."

"I love you, Penelope Garcia." Prentiss grins.

"Get in line," Garcia replies, a smile in her voice as she hangs up.

"Let's get to the SUV. Rossi, Prentiss, you're with me. Everyone else stay here."

Spencer nods, sighing as he leans back against the desk. He glances at Y/n, who's situated herself at a table, sitting. She's glancing over files, her brows creased together. He hears footsteps and pulls his gaze away from her, watching Derek walk over to him.