CHERRY FLAVOURED || Re-Write

ONE

WARNING: mentions of decapitated bodies, usage of guns, abuse, and consumption of alcohol .

You thought joining the BAU would be all sunshine and rainbows—besides the part where you had to hunt down murderers and crazy people of all kinds. But when you got there, a friendship you were ready to begin was already thrown out of the window. What made it worse, was the fact that he was battling against you in a certain game.

You were somewhat of a genius. You graduated high school at 14 then attended Yale. You were now 29 with two bachelor's: one in sociology, and one in criminal justice. You also had a doctorate in psychology with an IQ of 180.

You were smart. But not as smart as Doctor Spencer Reid—and he wouldn't go a day without letting you know. He wouldn't brag around the office, it was only you. He would rub it in your face like it was a golden lottery ticket, making sure you knew he'd won.

It'd been tiring, of course, but you did nothing to stop him. All he would do if you asked him to stop would be increasing his havoc, finding more ways to insult you without blatantly saying anything. At least he had some form of respect.

You walked through the glass doors, whispering a thank you to Anderson as you guided your way to your desk. The building was silent except for the clattering of pens and papers, agents hard at work. You could spot your team feet away, but you couldn't catch onto the wisps of hair pertaining to a certain evil agent.

You placed your bag next to your feet and pulled out your chair, ready to take a seat. However, Prentiss cleared her throat, pausing your movement. You looked up at her, her black shiny hair glimmering under the light, her glasses sliding down the slope of her nose.

She waved the file in the air. "A case," she said, loud enough for the team to hear.

You pursed your lips, already tired of the work ahead. You loved your job, of course you did. You wouldn't be working at the BAU if you didn't at least bear working there. However, recently it'd made you tired. Excessively tired. You dreaded the thought so much that you brewed up ideas to get you out of work. Sometimes they were unhealthy, but it didn't matter. They were ideas.

As you rode up the stairs, looking at the girls you'd hung out with only a couple of days, you starting thinking. You always felt out of place. You weren't ever much of an outgoing person, but you kept up an appearance at every wine night. It wasn't good for you, noting alcohol mixed with your regular being never ended well. However, you drank quietly alongside them, conversing when you most needed to.

You shook away the questions banging on the walls of your brain and walked into the briefing room, finding a seat next to Tara. You sat down, grabbing the tablet in front of you and immediately opening it. The first picture that popped onto your screen was a decapitated head, eyes shut but still frightening. The sight caused you to jolt in your seat.

Tara noticed, chuckling quietly as she tapped through the pictures. "Still not used to it Y/L/N?"

"We haven't had many cases like these," you replied, scrunching your nose up as you slid through each picture.

You looked up to see the colorful Penelope Garcia with a clicker in her hand, a disturbed expression displayed on her face. "You guys are going to Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Casey Langton, Trinity Williams, and Paula Rodriguez have all been murdered... by decapitation."

"Baton Rouge is the central for many crimes to take place. On a scale of 1-100 of how safe the city is, Baton Rouge is ranked at 1. You have a 1 in 106 chance of becoming a victim of a crime," you spoke up, setting the tablet down. You felt eyes quickly glue to your face, your entire body heating at the feeling. You quickly crossed your arms over your chest as a form of protection and looked straightforward at the presentation.