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protege-not-protagonist · 1 year ago

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Criminal Minds: The Protégé Chapter 11

Ch 11: The Mountain King- Pt. 4

Blurb: While still anxious to call her friend and check in on him, Grace updates the team on the findings of the autopsy and helps provide more information to try find the identity of the victims. Grace is then tasked with conducting a laborious search of the archives. She is paired up to room with JJ for the first time since joining the BAU. During which, JJ observes some concerning behaviour from the youngest member of the team and can't help but reflect on her own experience joining the BAU at such a young age.

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Audience: 16+ mature audience for depictions of violence and sexual references

Author's Note: if you see a trigger warning that concerns you, you can scroll to end and I'll have a brief description what happens. And how to read around it. TW: violence, crime scene depiction, This case mentions sexual assault (as previous chapters), slight body horror, mentions sexual assault of a child (only mentions), also mention of drugs

Central Police Station, Harrisburg, PA, 7:20 PM

The team gathered round a monitor as JJ linked the conference with Garcia. Grace checked her watch. 7:20, enough time to eat and clean up at the hotel before 9:00pm. She’d been thinking about the phone call all day. The reminder had been sitting at the back of her mind and on the notifications tab of her phone since the morning; don’t forget to call 9:00pm. What was wrong? What had happened? She hoped he was okay. What was she going to say? She couldn’t prepare something if she didn’t know what it was.

A chime sounded as their current call connected, and Garcia smiled at them.

‘Hello, my fine furry friends, please tell me you’re closer to catching this guy?’ Her hot pink fluffy pen drew Grace’s attention like a laser point as she twirled it around her fingers.

‘Possibly,’ Rossi told her and folded his arms, ‘We have an area narrowed down, and maybe, if some history buffs have done the Lord’s work, there could be a map of a mine he could be using, but chances are slim. Can you see if you can find anything online about abandoned mines in the area, check spelunking forums and blogs. I doubt it will turn up anything, but we need to be prepared. This unsub knows the terrain. We don’t want to be caught off guard. Did the phrase I sent you turn up anything?’

Phrase? Grace frowned. Had she missed something? Her head swung between Rossi and the other team members present.

‘Bumpkis.’ Garcia said with frustration laced through her tone. ‘It doesn’t seem to reference anything directly, closest matches I can get are about hobbit hole themed Air B&Bs, wrong kind of trip with friends.’

It was then Grace remembered she had been late to the briefing.

‘What phrase?’ She whispered to Simmons next to her.

‘The unsub called from the woods to the first victim’s friend, used a strange phrase.’ Simmons turned to her and smiled warmly, but she didn’t feel any comfort from it, only guilt.

It was not Simmons’ fault at all. He had never shown her anything to suggest he held any grudge or ill feelings afterwards. She tried to tell herself Simmons had forgiven her, that it wasn’t her fault. But it didn’t change what she felt and what had happened. Things had been awkward between them ever since she had failed him so dismally. He had been the first person on the team to besides Rossi to trust her so implicitly, and she let him down. To label the feeling as awkward was an understatement.

Simmons continued in a whisper to her, ‘It was a very theatrical way of saying come find your friend. We thought it might be from a movie or play.’

Grace furrowed her brow. ‘What did he say-‘

‘Grace has some more identifying features for the victims.’ Rossi interrupted.

‘Oh, yes.’ Grace looked up and turned back to the screen, remembering the notebook she held in her hand. She thumbed through her notes.

Garcia’s hands hovered above her keyboard and she grinned at her. ‘Hit me, Gracie baby.’

She short circuited. Unsure if it was being called “Gracie” for the first time or “baby” for the first time. Probably the latter.

‘I uh, yeah… Um, have some notes from the bodies.’ She stuttered. ‘Can you add this to the victims’ descriptions, then cross reference and distribute this on NamUs? These are things only friends and family would know and look for. Also look at registered hikers for the trail. All victims, except Hope, had a fair bit of muscle on their legs and were in good health. Very healthy lungs too, used to elevation. I think they were experienced hikers. Women register their hikes more than men do and have regular checkpoints. It’s been a few days now. If Three and Four registered, they would have missed a check point by now, see if there’s anyone who’s missing.’

Dr Lewis moved to the whiteboard and posed ready to write the features under the victimology part of the board.

‘To add to our profiles, Three and Four were experienced hikers, active they both have watch tans. But the watches weren’t on the bodies when they were found. The tan lines indicate a thicker band, 20 mm band, 450 mm watch face. Most women’s dress watches have an 18 mm band and a 350 mm face. So most probably they had a digital sport watch or an active smart watch.’ A thought suddenly hit her. ‘Actually, Garcia, see if you can get in touch with Garmin.’

‘The GPS company?’ Rossi questioned.

‘They make smart watches now too,’ Simmons added, seeing where she was going with this.

‘Yeah, a few of their models are in the dimensions we’re looking for. They are quite popular with hikers because of the GPS SOS system. Also, they have challenges their users can undertake. One of them is the Appalachian trail. Users have profiles they can share with family friends or personal trainers to track their progress and send SOS alerts to with a geotag. See if you can get them to hand over user data of SOS signals in this area, and any users who haven’t been transmitting data for a few days in the area.’

‘I can do you a bit better than get in touch with them,’ Garcia Smirked. Grace grimaced. She was not going to tell Avery that Garcia could access his logged data from his Zumba classes. ‘I’m in. User data is encrypted, though. I miss the days where no one knew what they were doing on the Internet. I’ll try a few tricks, see if I can decrypt some of it and find our victims.’

‘Good work,’ Rossi nodded along. ‘What about victim Two? She is the one we have nothing on.’

Grace had been even more determined to find anything to help them identify Two. She had spent almost an hour hovering over the lifeless woman. Double checking the reports, rerunning the finger prints. Taking her time to examine each part of her. She could not leave until she had something to add to the profile. To Grace, there was no fate sadder than sitting in a labelled box with only a number for a name.

‘Victim Two was also athletic, like the others good lungs, healthy, muscled legs. But victim Two played a violin… or viola. Regularly,’ Grace pointed. ‘Their Infraspinatus on the left side is over developed and there’s superficial elevation of the clavicle. Only strings will do that. Tennis comes close, but the muscles on the ventral side will develop as well. Also, her fingertips on the left side are calloused, further confirming that she is a string player, and probably professional or regularly. They are also right-handed.’

‘You can tell handedness on a body?’ Simmons asked, staring at the photos in front of him.

‘They have more skin creases on their right wrist. A person’s dominate wrist will have an extra crease lower and fainter than the ones on the non-dominate wrist. This crease is from writing by hand. Annoyingly, the younger people’s creases are less prominent. But Victim Two definitely wrote a lot. She was a musician, wrote a lot by hand and was outdoorsy.’ She said and her face fell. ‘She must have been creative.’

Grace watched as every person in the room stared at their wrists, rotating them and flexing them experimentally, and continued. ‘The autopsy report noted a surgery scar across the abdomen. I can tell you they had an appendectomy, ye-olde-style, probably cause she didn’t have enough mass for keyhole surgery. That should help. Keyhole is way more popular these days. So having the old style full open surgery is rare,’ Grace watched as Garcia finished typing, then curiously flicked her gaze to the underside of her wrists.

‘Moving on to the unsub’s weapon of choice. Pretty standard woodcutter’s axe. 4 and half inch blade. Unsub is on the upper-side of average strength. Also right handed, taking an average of 4 hacks to decapitate the victims. Hope and Two were attacked from behind while they were sitting or kneeling. Didn’t see the attack coming. Three and Four were incapacitated or dead before dismemberment,’ Grace relayed and shut her notebook.

‘You done? I did not need to hear that.’ Garcia took her fingers out of her ears while Dr Lewis scribed it on the case board. Simmons was twisting and subtle swinging his arm while looking at the photographs, trying to understand how Grace had got all that from just looking at the body.

The truth was, she couldn’t really explain it. It was just what she was good at. It was how her brain had combined her ADHD given skill for pattern recognition, her hyper-focus on morbid topics and her childhood trauma to produce a defence mechanism. It had made her seem physic to some, given her a reliable gut instinct to keep her safe, and made her the best forensic analyst the FBI had. But it was also what kept her up at night. It was also what made socialising a struggle. What acted like a barrier between herself and normalcy. It was what made joining the FBI the only way she could be praised for her skill rather than further ostracised.

There was a rap on the door and Detective garner poked his head in. ‘Good evening, this a good time? I made the inquiries with the historical society.’

‘Come in,’ Rossi waved him through. ‘What did you find?’

‘Well, the historical society can confirm they have surveys and intelligence data archived. No one could recall tunnels being part of the collection, but then again, it is not the most researched area, but you’re in luck they said they have them digitalised.’ He reported.

Garcia beamed, ‘Excellent, just provide me access and I’ll get my program running through those records like a knife through butter.’

‘Unfortunately…’ the detective sighed. ‘Digital doesn't mean online.’

‘Oh no,’ Grace groaned, already familiar with the way archivist like to store things “digitally.”

‘It’s Microfiche, isn’t it?’

‘Afraid so.’ The detective sighed.

‘What’s micro fish?’ JJ asked, looking at Garcia. Their brightly dressed friend only shrugged.

‘It a type of film reel.’ Grace grimaced.

Everyone turned to Rossi.

He held up his hands. ‘Hey, you know more than me, Gracie.’ She frowned at the second use of that nickname as Rossi continued on. ‘Back in the day, the admin staff would put Gideon and I’s case files on it, but I never actually used it or saw it. If we needed old files, we got the secretary or junior agents to prep them.’

‘I heard of my colleagues using it in college for old records of case studies, but I avoided it. I went for more modern cases.’ Lewis shrugged.

Alvez and Simmons shrugged.

‘How is it that I, Gen Z, am the only one who is familiar with Microfiche? You all should have encountered it at college, especially in the 90s!’

‘Never went to college,’ Simmons, Luke and Rossi said in unison.

Then how did they get into the FBI? Grace wondered. It was a requirement that you have at least a bachelor-or equivalent law enforcement or military experience. Military, that would be why. Lewis and JJ probably studied, but did not have to research like she did. Dr Reid probably had used Microfiche. Too bad he wasn’t here.

‘Well, it's film. Tiny film where documents are photographed, one page per frame on a continuous reel of film. If they say it’s available digitally, my guess is you don't have to use a view scope, and they have a film wizard.’

Her team still looked lost.

‘It reads the film and connects it to a computer, where you can extract the document though a screen capture and turn them in to PDFs. It’s used for newspapers usually. Like three years of a newspaper’s issues will be saved on one roll of a compact film. You have to go through it by hand. You can't control f.’

‘Well, guess Five-O’s volunteered to go fiche-ing.’ Alvez said. Rossi nodded, and the team’s heads turned to her.

‘Great,’ she groaned. ‘I didn’t need sleep, anyway.’

---------

Fairway Hotel, Harrisburg, PA, 8:12 PM

After getting the archive’s address from the detective, JJ had been paired up to share a car and room with Grace. They had gone back to the hotel to check in and have a quick meal before she drove Grace to the archives. Now she was unpacking a few of her things, plugging in her phone charger and sitting in silence, taking the time to rest. It was the first time she and Grace had been partnered up to share a room. It was insightful. It was the first time she had seen Grace perform her ‘ritual.’

Prentiss and Tara had mentioned it briefly, said that technically they all should do it, so there was no point in trying to convince her it wasn’t necessary. Apparently, she had always done it, even before the Robinson’s case, so they weren’t particularly concerned that it was an anxious compulsion. JJ had watched curiously as Grace swept the room with a RF-detector, checked every cupboard, mirror and painting meticulously, even shining her phone touch into every vent. JJ wondered why, after all the cases she had been on that she didn’t do those things. She also asked Grace why as she checked the locks, hinges and peep hole. Grace only shrugged and simply said it helped her sleep.

Now with Grace in the bathroom freshening up, JJ eyed the bright blue Squishmellow creature, silk eye mask, waffle cotton PJs out on Grace’s bed and noise cancelling ear buds, melatonin gummies and crossword puzzle book on the bed-side table. Firstly, she wondered how the Squishmellow had fit in her go bag. Secondly, she felt guilty. Guilty for not knowing her young colleague was suffering so much from insomnia and what seemed like anxiety. Guilty for not taking her seriously when she requested to have a couch seat on the plane. Guilty for not seeing her jokes about not needing sleep as simply that, jokes.

And JJ had tried to show she did care. Grace was young. And from her own experience, JJ knew Grace was probably too young to be in the BAU. JJ worried about her a lot, she worried about her in the way she wished someone had worried about her and Spencer. But every attempt JJ made to get closer to Grace had only resulted in establishing more distance between them.

JJ liked Grace. She was a brilliant agent, young and energetic. She had her quirks and was shy and reticent, but damn, could she read people. She may not have been the best at interacting with people, but she could observe a conversation and tell you exactly what each person had been thinking. Grace was one of the best natural born profilers this team had ever seen. They all knew it from her first trial case. JJ remembered sitting at the round table, preparing to be disappointed by the new probationary agent, raising an eyebrow at the preppy-looking forensic officer, who raised her hand and waited for permission to talk. She also remembered all skepticism of Rossi’s recommendation, leave her as this 23-year-old took one look at the crime scene photos and produced a profile that was so specific it shaved days off the investigation.

In many ways, Grace was like Spence. But also, in many ways, she was completely different. JJ missed her best friend, and she recognised that part of feeling distant from Grace was because she was looking for something to supplement the genius shaped hole Spencer’s resignation had brought into her life. It was good, in a way. Healthy. They had needed to distance themselves after the whole… situation. But the thing that JJ couldn’t understand was why she got the sense that Grace didn’t like her. Not that Grace was rude, unkind, or acted in any way that would imply that she disliked her. It was more the way Grace acted with other members of the team that gave her an inclination that Grace was uncomfortable around her specifically, well also Simmons, but after the Robinson’s case that was understandable.

JJ heard the tap run in the bathroom briefly and then suddenly there was a hacking cough and gaging sound from Grace. JJ turned her head. But the retching sound and heavy breaths did not stop. A groan of discomfort creaked out from the room. JJ stood up and knock on the door.

‘Matthews, you okay in there?’ she asked, pressing an ear to the door. She heard the quiet gasps and sniffles, like the sound her children made when they had thrown up.

‘Uh… Fine…’ Grace coughed hoarsely. JJ heard the shifting of Grace’s body slumping against a wall and onto the floor.

‘Grace let me in. Are you okay?’ JJ tried the handle, locked. ‘I’m fine, just swallowed some water the wrong way…’ she stuttered out and JJ could hear her laboured breathing through the thin wall. ‘Sorry, I panicked, just trying to calm down. I’m fine… just give me a minute.’

JJ was torn. She felt like kicking the door down, but at the same time she could hear Grace’s breathing slow down, like she was calming down. Like she really had just choked and panicked. The Mom in her needed to be in that room.

‘You need anything?’ she asked.

‘No.’ Grace coughed out.

‘What about for tonight, at the archive, food? Coffee?’ JJ asked ear to the door still.

‘Uh, a carton of diet coke, and enough Ritalin to kill a blue whale.’ Grace called back. There was a shuffling sound, and then the doorknob rattled.

JJ stepped back as the door swung open and examined Grace from head to toe. ‘What’s Ritalin?’

‘Oh… uh it’s um… Meth. A type of it. It was a joke, you know? Like to keep me awake to do the job.’ Grace explained. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her nose was red, face slightly patchy, like she had been crying.

‘Sure you’re good?’

‘Yeah. Nothing, just… what choking on your own spit and having a coughing fit does to you, you know?’

‘Okay, well let’s get some dinner into you on the way archives. You didn’t seem too taken with the room service options. Do you want McDonald’s or Dairy Queen?’

‘Neither of those are dinner foods.’ Grace said and grabbed her canvas messenger bag and checked her watch. ‘But the Dairy Queen is more convenient. It’s on the way.’

‘But you told Alvez the other day you favourite is the Fillet-o-fish.’ JJ pointed out.

Grace stopped in the doorway, giving her a surprised look and nodding. ‘It is. But McDonalds means we would need to detour, 6 extra turns.’ She looked back at her watch again.

‘You’re not in a rush to spend a night in front of a computer scrolling through miles of film, right?’ JJ smiled at her. ‘We’ll get you a fillet-o-fish.’ Grace’s mouth opened a little in shock and she nodded. ‘And a large Diet coke.’ JJ added, fishing the car keys from her pocket.

‘Thanks, JJ.’ Grace offered her a small smile, and they headed out to the car together.

---------

Civil War Memorial Museum Archives, Harrisburg, PA, 9:01 PM

She stared at the phone for a second longer as one minute ticked over, and she hit “call”. She placed the phone on speaker next to her and turned back to the computer screen and hit fast forward on the film reader. Black and white documents with overly exaggerated cursive scrolled across the screen as the dial tone rang.

After the fourth ring, the phone crackled.

‘Hey?’ she greeted.

‘Hey.’ Harrison answered. Immediately, she could detect the tiredness in his voice. It usually was so energetic.

‘Oh no, what happened?’ she asked. Glancing at the black phone screen and then back to the computer. Still not the documents she was looking for.

Harrison sighed heavily. ‘It was a rough day, you?’

‘It's a rough case.’ She said.

‘So you’re still working? Now?’ He asked.

‘Yeah, but I can talk.’ Grace assured him. ‘I'm trawling through Microfiche. Pun not intended.’

‘Watch out for mircosharks.’ He said with a slight lightness, chuckling to himself.

She snorted. ‘That was more terrible than usual. What happened?’

‘A lot.’ He sighed heavily again. ‘Emma was at my sister’s apartment this morning, figured out where I was staying now. She was crying and said she was sorry, that she regrets it.’

Grace’s face soured. Emma. Narscistsic-controlling-ex-girlfriend Emma. She tried to keep a neutral tone. ‘Oh? Are you-do you feel safe?’

‘Don't worry, I told her to shove it.’ Harrison said.

She laughed. ‘I would’ve paid good money to see that.’

‘I mean, I was more polite about it than that,’ he admitted.

‘Boo!’ she commentated, then hesitated, was that going too far? ‘I’m kidding.’ She clarified. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I don't know.’ There was a shakiness in his voice now. ‘I haven't had time to think about it, really… I just-It was…’ He trailed off and let out a quiet sob. ‘I've had an awful day at work, Grace… It was awful.’

Grace stopped scrolling through the film and cradled the phone in her hand as if she could send her comforting touch through the phone. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’

‘I don't want to load you up with more than you need right now, if you’re having a rough case-‘

‘-Every case is rough. Did one of your patients die?’ She asked.

‘No. Today… we had to do a kit. Oh Grace, I… we shouldn’t have to do them on anybody, but in paeds… I never thought-‘ He sobbed.

A tear pricked her own eye as she heard him cry. That was an awful day. She didn’t know what to say. She swallowed.

‘Oh Harri I’m so sorry.’ She voiced, trying to send her urge to wrap her arms around him through the phone.

‘I don’t know if I can sleep tonight. The things that man did to her… She cried when I asked her what colour cast she wanted for her leg. She was terrified by my voice and I… cried. God, I’m crying right now. I’m so angry. And…I want to make it better, but there is nothing I can do. I can't even walk in the room without scaring her. They assigned me elsewhere in the ward since, but I just can't stop thinking about… Why? I… can't even… She was 8, Grace. How could someone do that to her? She’s 8 years old!’ His voice cracked.

Anger filled her too. Anger because it happened, anger because her friend was crying. Anger because it was so senseless. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she found words.

‘You will never understand, Harri, because people who do that are so far gone, even people like me who study those people struggle to understand. It's evil, and it is senseless. Do they at least know who did it?’ she tried to steer the conversation more positively.

‘Yeah, he’s in jail and I’m trying to focus on that, but I just can't get my mind off it, you know?’

‘I struggle with that too, keeping my mind off things.’ She told him. As soon as the admission left her mouth, Groton’s golf course flared in her mind. Images flooded her view and throbbed in her skull. She shut her eyes and shook them out. She couldn’t focus on that, not now. Not when she had taken her meds. She couldn’t get stuck on the wrong thing.

‘What do you do?’ Harrison’s voice called to her.

‘Pardon?’ she asked, even though she had heard him.

‘How do you keep your mind off it? How do you move on?’

She wet her lips and sighed. ‘I guess I do what I can. I do my job, do it well. Go to therapy, talk, do things that keep me busy and happy, create things, remind myself there's good people in the world.’ She imagined him sitting at his sister’s kitchen table, still in his colourful scrubs, probably the Ninja Turtles ones, nursing a coffee cup running his fingers through his ruddy brown hair. She pictured herself next to him, holding his hand. She smiled sadly. ‘Good people, ones who cry because they can’t care for her without scaring her, and are angry that such an awful thing would happen. Good People who care enough to ask a little girl what colour cast they’d prefer. People like you. It’s the small things Harri. Your small good each day, fights tooth and nail to chip away at a whole lot of bad. Your small good. Focus on that.’ She then thought of the way she spent most of her evenings at home. ‘Also children's television and movies. That’s my go to. Because good always prevails in those worlds, it might not be realistic, but it’s cathartic. Got a list I can recommend if you’d like?’

‘Actually, that's why I was hoping you weren't away tonight.’ He said, but there was something in his tone, a hesitancy. She sat waiting for him to continue. He took a few seconds. ‘I, uh, wanted to ask if you wanted to have a movie night at… my place, or yours.’ There was a beat of silence before he scrambled again with his words, ‘That's only if you’re comfortable. I didn't want to say at a theatre in case you weren't ready after the whole… Incident. But I get it if asking is crossing a line.’

Her mind raced. Thoughts crashed against her skull and her fears blared like claxons. Her mouth opened and, ‘I don't know,’ stumbled out.

‘What kind of I don't know?’ he pressed.

Please don’t make me explain, her mind begged. She put the phone done to distance herself from him. She stared at the caller ID and tensed her body in an effort to slow down her mind before her mouth betrayed her. Thank God she had managed to actually take her meds before this.

‘I want to, but I don't know if we should.’ She answered diplomatically. ‘Going to each other’s houses is a bit of a step… it's a bit intimate.’

‘I know the way we met was not an ideal situation but, come on, G, we call and text each other like every second day, we send pictures of weird things we see to each other with no context, we do the Wordle, we debrief with each other. I’m not kidding when I said I'd wait by the phone. Your calls make my day.’ He said what she already knew, but then he really hit the nail on the head with his next words. ‘I think if we are honest with ourselves, we are already past what is an FBI approved relationship.’

‘Appropriate relations with a victim.’ She corrected in panic. ‘Harrison, I feel it too, but what happened to us, specifically, what she did to us, was to make us artificially foster a sense of closeness. That bond, what we feel, it's not really… real. We don't really know each other as well as we feel we do. We need to distance ourselves from what we felt at the time so we can form an uninfluenced relationship.’

You hypocrite, her own mind sneered at her.

‘I know, I know, because of the transference, right? G, I get it. But 6 months of pretending like it didn’t happen, it’s killing me. Calls during lunch breaks from work, conversing only in Wordle scores, walking along the harbour front at night? Aren’t you tired of it? It feels like we’re cold war spies, and not in a good way.’

There was a lot to unpack in that, but her mind clung to one thing. ‘I-I thought you liked National Harbour?’

‘Oh no G, I do! I do. I love the harbour.’ He reassured her. ‘I just want a chance to talk like normal people, you know? Take you out to the movies, have dinner together, hang at each other’s houses. We’re not strangers, but when we meet up, it feels like we pretend we are. It’s like you don't want to be there, or like you feel you're not supposed to. But you were a victim too. You didn’t investigate that case, so I doubt there is a protocol for that. Look, all I’m saying is you said what we feel is not real, that it’s transference or whatever, but I feel it, so it’s real to me. Why can't we make it real, Grace?’

Oh no. This is it. This is where it fell apart, where it ended, where she would lose him. Friendship was good. She learned that friendship was safe. The next thing, though, she could never go there. That was when people would find out that she wasn’t worth it. That was when people wouldn’t want her anymore.

‘Harri,’ she took a breath and tried not to cry. ‘I really don't know. Don't take this the wrong way but I think you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state right now, that case at work today probably didn't do you good and probably brought up some thoughts about Cooper… and you have ended things with Emma, the girl you would previously go home to and… talk with, wind down with… and now you’re looking for that kind of connection, looking for a new… partner. And I'm sorry Harri, I think you're great but I'm not ready for that kind of relationship and I think if you're honest with yourself you aren't either and you could do far better than me-‘

‘-Woah, woah no!’ he stopped her.

‘No?’ she questioned.

‘Grace, I'm not looking for a rebound girl!’

‘A what?’ she frowned.

‘Nevermind. I meant all that platonically. You’re my friend right, even if it's kinda weird?’ he stammered.

‘Oh? Yes. I would consider us weird friends…’ she nodded along in confusion.

‘No wonder you were bringing out your professional tone.’ He laughed nervously. ‘I’m Sorry I wasn't clear, that did kinda sound a bit-‘

‘-No, sorry, I misread that. It’s hard over the phone. I don’t have your expressions to go off.’ She scrambled.

Harrison continued to ramble, ‘No, no, that’s my fault, I said stuff like it feel real to me… and stuff, I meant our friendship-I see how that sounded like I had caught feelings-‘

‘Oh no, it’s my mistake,’ she apologised. ‘I-I thought movies and dinner were like a thing couples do.’

‘Oh Grace, I'm a simple man. If I wanted to ask you on a date, I would. I wouldn't try to trick you into it.’ He chuckled. She breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I mean yeah, couples do that, but so do friends G.’ He paused. ‘Wait, have you never done those things with a friend before?’

‘Um… funny story about that.’ She admitted nervously and scrolled through the film again. Feeling safe to divert her attention from him again.

‘Oh Grace,’ he said with pity.

‘I’ve never really had many friends my age.’ She explained with a shrug. There were a few beats of silence again, but they were comfortable now.

‘So…’ he said, clearing the air. ‘Is that a yes to the movie? To just being “weird friends” hanging out.’

She thought for a moment. Six months? Was that enough time to have been in a friendship to invite someone to your house? Penelope had invited her to her apartment after about 4 months. Rossi let her come over for pasta night with the team after her first month. Simmons had trusted her enough to babysit after two… She supposed it was.

‘You know what, once we wrap up this case, sure. We can do it at your place, but I get to pick the movie,’ she agreed and found herself smiling. ‘This time.’

‘This time?’ he asked with a curious tone.

‘Well, I figure, since we are both going to have bad days, and you feel walks around National Harbour are impersonal, sounds like something we are going to do more than once,’ she explained, her eyes still flicking over the pages of documents scrolling across the screen.

He chuckled, ‘We are going to have to work out a roster.’

‘Harrison, you know I don’t stick to schedules very well.’

‘Says the girl with like 700 alarms on her phone.’ He laughed.

She giggled. ‘Actually, I’ve found that my phone won’t let me have more than fifty, soo… a lot less than 700.’

Documents scrolled past and her eyes skimmed over the dates and locations as the reel ran out. She sighed and flicked the rewind button. The machine whirled. She unboxed the next lot of film labelled, ‘Pt. G. T. Kayne - Diaries cira 1859-1861’

‘How are you? Sorry I didn’t ask about your day yet, did I?’

She perked up. ‘Oh, no. That’s fine. I’m okay, I’m actually in Harrisburg Pennsylvania, going through civil war archives now, in other circumstances I’d be enjoying myself but, not right now, I’m in for a long night.’

‘Is it a rough case?’ he probed

‘Kind of, we’ve got a lot of missing pieces right now, missing IDs. That’s what rough.’

‘Oh.’ He said, comprehending exactly what that meant for her. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. You okay?’

‘Yeah, I was able to give some extra features to Penelope, so hopefully she can turn up some faces.’

‘Oh my God, they don’t have faces?’ He gasped.

‘No! I-They do just uh.’ She winced. Well, he wasn’t wrong. ‘They do… we just haven’t been able to-‘ She cut herself off before she said anything that would disturb him further, ‘I was saying it as an expression.’

‘Well, now you’re looking into it, I’m sure they won’t be faceless for long.’ Harrison reassured her.

She smiled at the compliment. ‘I hope so. But, yeah, there are a few odd things in this case we haven’t been able to get our heads around. We are focusing on what we know, but there have been some things that aren’t adding up, the profile isn’t coming together like it should,’ She loaded the next roll of film onto the reader and packaged the old one back up, sliding into a pile with other reels she had determined were administrative correspondence.

‘What kind of things?’ He asked, then added, ‘It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.’

‘I don’t actually know. That’s the thing. I’m looking at this abrasion and I can’t tell what the unsub was trying to achieve. He is evolving his M.O, but I don’t know why or really how. The guy is a proper A-grade weirdo, Harri.’

‘Wow, and that’s an FBI profiler’s official opinion?’

Grace looked at the piles she had made on the table of the different categories of documents she had come across, and a thought stuck her. There was correspondence, payrolls, orders, reports and surveys, all where different aspects of Military Intelligence. Her whole life, she worked to separate things from a whole. To her most thing where related eventually, that’s why she was constantly being reminded to keep things relevant on topic. But what if now the problem was that she had separated things to where she couldn’t see them as related? When she examined a body, it was dead; therefore, her deductions were based in a criminal and forensic context. But, Harrison saw similar horrors, occasionally, but while someone was alive, in a health and medicine context.

‘Harri, before you worked Paeds, you were ER, right?’ she tested the waters, hoping he would be comfortable enough to answer a difficult question.

‘Yeah, worst year of my life,’ he snorted. ‘Why?’

She cringed internally, preparing for him to hang up in disgust. ‘Did you get a lot of-how do I put this? Bedroom Accidents?’

‘Too Many. G, you wouldn't believe the things people do in the boudoir.’ He said enthusiastically. ‘Why do you ask- actually just remembered your working so the less I know the better.’

‘I won’t scar you with details, but you might be able to help me. We’ve encountered something none of us have seen before. It seems like it has a sexual element to it, but I don’t know. We’ve never seen a serial killer do it before, but maybe some people do it consensually as a kink, maybe? But it could easily go wrong, so it’s likely someone’s gone to hospital for it.’

‘Sure, I was only in ER for a year, I might not be that helpful, but if I’ve heard of it, I’ll tell you.’ He waited for her to gather her words patiently.

'Have you ever seen anything to do with a catheter or externally filling a bladder?’ She asked.

‘Eugh.’ He grimaced. ‘Me personally no, but someone told me about Human Carafes back in college, I’ve only heard of it in an unbelievable story a class mate tells, you know, like a “I heard that there’s a secret sociality of crazy rich doctors with a god complex and each year they host a dinner party and make everyone sign an NDA cause they all have an orgy and human carafes.” I don’t know how it would turn anyone on. It’s more pseudo sexual, like a power display thing… to my ears anyway, is that the kinda thing you’re looking at?’

God complex? Pseudo sexual power display? Sounded exactly like something that could feature in this unsub’s M.O.

‘Human Carafes is not something I’m familiar with and I don’t want to google that. Can you talk me through what that is?

‘Hang on, just let get behind some closed doors, cause Liza is frowning at me cause I said orgy.’ There was some shuffling and a muffled voice, but she couldn’t make anything out. Then Harrison replied, ‘Well, I don’t complain about having to listen to your filthy, Scottish Historical Drama while I eat… Yes it is Grace… NO!… okay fine I’ll tell her…’ Harrison bickered with his sister. ‘My sister says hi, by the way. I need to move out.’ He chuckled, and she heard him shut a door. ‘So I’m guessing the victims are having it done to them? Are they male?’

She raised an eyebrow, momentarily stopping her scrolling. ‘No, our victims’s are female.’

‘Huh, that is weird. Probably not the same kinda kink cause it’s usually a thing done to males cause of the… you know… the appendage.’ He trailed off.

‘Harri, sorry you’re going to have to be a bit more specific, or clinical. Believe it or not, I do know what a penis is.’ She chuckled. There was a moment of silence. Oh no, I’ve freaked him out. She panicked, ‘I mean, you don’t have to, if you’re not comfortab-‘

‘Do I want to distract myself from an awful day and evil people with stupid, disgusting medical anecdotes? Absolutely.’ He told her with a lighter tone in his voice. He then laughed a little, ‘Sorry I was just trying to get over the fact that you said penis so causally.’ he giggled.

‘Oh, grow up,’ she snickered.

He took a long sigh before he began. ‘Okay, so let me preference this with two words. Gnarly UTI.’

‘That's technically four words, but my interest is peaked.’ She smiled and listen to him as she scrolled through another three reels of film.

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Fairway Hotel, Harrisburg, PA, 9:10 PM

JJ poured the mixture of the crushed up tablet and solution into the three test receptacles of the standard pill testing kit and averted her gaze, staring at the ceiling.

‘Please…’ she sighed. ‘Please don’t let any of them be positive.’

She peaked back down and her face fell. A bright pink indicator at stared back at her.

She tore her eyes away, afraid to look at the label that would identify the four white tablets that sat ominously on the bathroom counter. She wasn’t supposed to find them. It had been an accident. While plugging in her hairdryer, she had knocked Grace’s bath bag to the floor and a few things had fallen out. That was all. She hadn’t meant to snoop, but as she repacked the scattered items back into the bag, she had picked up a tin of lip gloss and it rattled.

Pills. JJ knew the sound instantly. Pills that were loose and concealed. If Grace hadn’t of been cagey about what had happened in the bathroom earlier that night, JJ wouldn‘t have thought twice, but it wasn’t just the ‘coughing fit’ that had her worried lately.

JJ glanced at the positive indicator and gasped.

Amphetamines.

JJ ran a hand through her hair in distress. It was Hankle all over again. And JJ could not believe she had let it happened, again. They should have known Grace passed the psych evaluations too easily afterwards. She should have suspected after the nightmare on the plane. They should have known; there were warning signs littered around everywhere. Grace’s quietness about the Robinson’s case, her insomnia, joking about taking drugs… Just like she joked about her sleep. Now it made sense why Grace wasn’t sleeping. She was avoiding the nightmares about Robinson’s case by taking amphetamines to stay awake.

JJ didn’t know what to do.

If she told Emily, that would put Emily in a compromising position and Grace could be fired and then who knows what would happen; she could spiral and get worse. But if she did nothing… well, she already had seen what pretending to be ignorant had done. It had worked out fine in the end, but she had many regrets, and she was sure Reid did too. JJ concluded she had to confront Grace. How she was going to do that she didn’t know. Maybe she could ask for Reid’s advice. But for now, while they were on a case, all she could do was keep a close eye on the youngest member of their team.

‘Why Grace?’ she asked herself. ‘Why are you doing this to yourself?’

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Just to be clear, Grace is NOT on drugs. See TW drugs.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @bridgeoverstrawberryfields @pleasantwitchgarden @cultish-corner

Sorry this took so long, again. What did you think of Harrison? I will explain the Robison's case, I swear. it is coming soon. There will be a flash back case. I will soon redesign the master list so it will be a bit less busy and organise the chapter's in to "Episodes" this will involve a title card for each chapter and the first and last title cards will have quotes to mirror the show's format. so you might want to check out the new title card when I update the fics over the next few days :)

If you love this story or even just like it, leave a comment, like, reblog, ask a question with Character Mail, will be posting some prompt for this soon so keep your eyes peeled. Any interaction is much appreciated and it really motivates me. Love you guys.

if you want to be added to taglist please comment on this post.

TWs:

Sexual assault, Necrophilia : I will try not to be graphic at all in this story, this chapter just has it mentioned as part of what the unsub does

Slight body horror : I will try not to be graphic here, but in autopsy it is found that unsub fills Bladders externally with a injection. then found that it injures the victim to a point where they bleed. Again not going to describe that more than I have too.

Drugs: If you’re not familiar with ADHD meds, you might not know, but they are in the amphetamine family, and in your run-of-the-mill drug test come up false positive. JJ doesn’t know about Grace’s diagnosis, and she is reacting from her experience with the Hankle and Reid’s addiction because of it. The reality is Grace has an interesting relationship with her medication, which will be explored later along with JJ and Grace’s dynamic. but just know JJ is wrong, and Grace is not taking her medication to stay awake, she simply took her medication here because she was worried about not being able to focus because files are boring.

mentions sexual assault of a child: Harrison, Grace's friend and love interest is a nurse in a children's ward is distraught talking about his day on the phone because he had to treat a young patient who was hospitalised from a sexual assault. He asks Grace for advice on how to deal with the knowledge of such awful things happening.

#spencer reid #BAU #criminal minds #oc #mentor spencer #spencer gets a happy ending #the protege #OC Grace Matthews #fanfic #my fic #criminal minds case #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #the protege chapter 11 #ch 11 #JJ #jennifer jareau

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