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visionsofgarcia · 2 months ago

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angels and cowboys

part 1/?

word count- 3045 warnings- talks of a body/corpse summary- you find a body, you don't know what to do, the fbi is called, things just suck.

“I can normally tell how intelligent a man is by how stupid he thinks I am.” Cormac McCarthy

Three days ago, you found a body. Face down and nude, covered in mud and nearly hidden within the earth. It could’ve been missed. You stared at it for ten minutes unblinking, your mind unable to fully understand what it was that you were seeing. When the realization that what you were seeing was real finally sunk in, you found yourself unsure what to do. Leaving it seemed cruel, and touching it was out of the question.

In the end, you left it alone, went home and then smoked a cigarette. It didn’t calm you down. You stared at the wall in your bedroom before swallowing heavily and trying to sleep. You didn’t. You couldn’t. You still stayed in bed until the sun rose.

Eventually you forced yourself out of bed. You smoked a cigarette in your kitchen as you called the sheriff with shaking fingers and an overwhelming nausea.

It was still there- still laying face down- when they came to collect it. You’re not sure if that's good or not.

The next day you didn’t think about it. You walked your property and did your work. You did not think about it. You found a broken fence. You did not think about it.

You see it in your dreams and pretend it didn’t make you wake up to throw up.

Today, you’re standing on your porch, looking down your driveway with a cigarette between your lips waiting for the goddamn FBI. Your eye twitches. The sheriff- Owen Mackens- is a man who can’t keep his hands steady to pull his gun out of its holster and is as meekly spoken as you can get when it comes to telling people news that he knows they’ll hate. Which is probably why he told you that whatever agents got sent, would probably need to stay with you and then promptly hung up before you could say a word back.

The more you think about it, the more you realize you’re going to strangle him when you see him.

You take another drag of the cigarette- the goddamn smoke burns now- and you keep staring down the driveway until you see two vehicles- a black SUV and Mackens’ old dingy patrol car- begin to make their way up your long dirt roadway. You sigh before flicking the cigarette off to the side of the porch and cross your arms over your chest.

Mackens parks a good few yards from the house, pulling off the side and under a few of the trees that you just could never bring yourself to cut. The SUV however, pulls up all the way to the house and you have to suppress a smile. You watch as it comes to halt and the engine is cut and then the doors are swinging open.

As the doors open, four people step out, three men and one woman. The smile you’re fighting becomes even harder to keep off your lips when you see how one of the men is wearing converse and has stepped in a puddle that has no doubt soaked into his socks. You watch as his face twists into something that looks like distress and disgust and it makes you feel a little better about everything.

The others do notice the unfortunate choice of parking but are much better at hiding their reactions. One of the men even elbows the converse wearer and says something that gets a glare back. The woman and the other man are the first to approach you. You keep your arms crossed, taking them in and finding the fact that the man is wearing sunglasses in low sixty-degree weather is another thing to be annoyed about.

The woman at least has a kind look about her. She’s also the only one wearing shoes that are even slightly appropriate so you might have a bias already. The agents stop at your steps, seemingly waiting to see if you’ll move down to greet them. You don’t move from your spot on the porch.

You just raise an eyebrow as you ask, “You the FBI agents I’m supposed to be housing?”

The woman at least has the decency to look away, seemingly a little ashamed.

The man just keeps his mouth set in a firm line, “In a way. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, this is SSA Emily Prentiss,” He looks behind him at the other agents still by the car, before looking back at you, “And SSA Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Your eyes narrow as you look at the two agents he just introduced, “Neither of ‘em really scream ‘doctor’.” Your eyes fall on the man who had his shoes soaked, with limbs too long and awkward, like they grew too fast and he never got used to them. Your eyes narrow once again when you see the gun on his hip, clearly on display, “Can he even shoot that?”

Your voice must’ve been a little louder this time, because the two men turn towards you. One laughs, while the one resembling a snag looks away almost nervously.

“I promise all my agents can handle their weapons and Dr. Reid is no exception.” Hotchner says, voice cold and firm. It reminds you of a man you had once met in a bar. And then it reminds you of your father, “Would you mind if we come inside?”

There’s not much that you would mind more, but you glance down the driveway at Mackens and you can see that he looks scared. You just sigh, closing your eyes as you step to the side of the stairs. You look down at the agents and nod towards your house. “I’m assuming you can get the door on your own.”

Hotchner’s face does not change from that deep frown as he walks up to your front door. Prentiss follows behind, giving you a kind- but weak- smile. Morgan and Reid are quick to follow. Reid avoids your gaze by turning his head as he passes you. You watch as they all disappear into your house before turning to look at Mackens who is clutching his hat to his chest and a face that screams apologetic.

“Look, I’m sorry-” “I don’t like this, any of this.” You interrupt and Mackens looks down at the ground, “So understand, I’m going to let them do their jobs, but I’m not going to pretend I like any of them being here.”

You watch as Mackens nods his head, gaze still on the ground, “Understood.”

You roll your eyes and begin to move towards the door, stopping when your hand wraps around the doorknob, “And if they’re stayin’, I’m expecting some fucking help.”

You don’t wait to hear if Mackens even bothers responding before pulling the door open and stepping inside your home. You can see the agents moving in the kitchen and you glance down at the shoe rack, taking note of the fact that none are present. Your eyes travel to the floor and you feel heat rise to your face when you see the mud that is now tracked through the house. You take a deep breath, leaving your own boots on as you walk to the kitchen.

The agents are all standing up around the table, talking quietly. They go silent when they see you in the doorway. You can feel that your face is still red. You look at each one of them, before your eyes land on Hotchner and bite the inside of your mouth as you try to keep yourself from yelling.

“Don’t wear your shoes in my house again. Take them off at the door.”

Hotchner meets your gaze- his glasses now placed in his coat pocket. You watch as his bottom eyelids raise slightly. He nods slowly, “Moving forward, we’ll all keep that in mind.”

The front door opens and you can hear Mackens beginning to walk, pausing and continuing, his steps now slightly unsure. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s also kept his shoes on. You also know that he saw the lack of ones by the door and is now thrown off. His face confirms it when he comes into view at the kitchen doorway, looking down at your boots with confusion. When you catch his eye, he’s quick to look away.

There’s an awkward silence- one of your own doing a small voice nags at you- but you can’t bring yourself to try and make it better. This is the most people in your house in years, and none were invited. You can hear your mother’s voice telling you to offer coffee, to make the guests feel at home. You can hear your father’s voice begin to yell at her.

Your eyes move from each of the agents, taking them in and trying to get a feel for them as quickly as possible. They all seem to be trying to busy themselves, looking around your kitchen. Part of you wonders if there’s a reason, or if they’re just acting out the human urge to try and avoid something. Hotchner is looking at you. Or rather staring. He doesn’t seem to blink.

You hold his gaze and blink to see if anything changes. It doesn’t.

“S- So, the agents here- are here, excuse me- because, well, uh,” Mackens stumbles over his words and you already know his ears are growing red, “They just-”

“We just want to ask you a few questions.” Hotchner interrupts- Mackens breathes out heavily in relief- and his eyes don’t move from you. It’s been over a minute and he still hasn’t blinked, “Just so we can have a better understanding of what we need to start looking for.”

Your eyes narrow before darting over to Reid standing near the window, moving his head as if trying to see as much of the land as possible. You keep watching him as you ask, “Kind of an overreaction, ain’t it? Bringing the FBI out here for one body.”

Your stomach lurches as you say that. It’s cruel and awful to refer to them as a body. Your mother’s voice is stern as she tells you ‘That was someone’s baby’.

But you push her aside and instead focus on the fact that suddenly, everyone is glancing at one another. Prentiss’ eyebrow is raised as she looks at Morgan and he gives her a shrug. Hotchner looks at Mackens with an even deeper frown before looking at you. He finally blinks.

Reid keeps looking out the window.

There’s a feeling that begins crawling over your skin, making the hairs raise. You suppress a shiver and replace it with a small quick inhale through your nose. The feeling is overwhelming, one that makes you almost ill whenever it plagues you.

They know something you don’t.

“Have you been aware of why we’re here?” Hotchner asks, and this time his voice is different. Still firm and cold, but there’s an almost gentle way he’s approaching things now, “Why some of us might need to stay with you?”

You consider returning the gentle tone, maybe try and show that you don’t actually want to be difficult. But instead, you just gross your arms over your chest and spit out, “No, can’t say I’ve been made aware of anything. I got the phone call about you coming this mornin’.”

Hotchner tilts his head, looking at Mackens and for a moment you see a familiar kind of anger and then he’s looking back at you, “You are aware of the body found two days ago, correct?”

“Yes.” I found it, “I’m aware of it.”

“And you were not told about the previous ones found beforehand?”

You should be surprised. You should be shocked. There should be terror griping you at the idea of this not being a one time thing. And maybe if you were younger, or if you weren’t where you were, you would act correctly. Instead, you just hum around your guilt and remind yourself that they were all someone’s baby.

“No, I was not told about any others found.” Your voice is flat and it just makes you annoyed, “So, what? Our station got overwhelmed by three bodies?”

Hotchner scowls at you and you can see the gentleness starting to leave, and then you’re even more annoyed, “We were asked to help prevent another murder from happening.”

You glare at Mackens who just looks at you with a pleading look in his eye, “We don’t have the experience or manpower to handle this properly-”

“So you decided to send them?” You snap and Mackens flinches, “This is not my problem, nor did I ask to get involved. Why the hell are they in my home when you got a perfectly fine station, Mackens?”

“We’ll need to compose a geo-profile of our unsub’s comfort area of where all the bodies were found,” Ried interjects, turning away from the window to look at you. His hands are out in front of his body, making small gestures that he doesn’t seem to be aware of, “If we can find out where he likes to operate, we’ll have a better chance of actually catching him.”

You don’t even fight the glare that you shoot at Reid and he looks down at the ground as his hands sneak into his pockets, “Again, I don’t see why that has to be done in my home and not at the station.”

“We understand that you didn’t ask to be involved,” Hotchner says slowly, coldly. You kinda miss the gentle tone, “However we are asking for you to have a certain understanding as well. As of now, we have three dead women and probably more to come. And one of those women was found on your property. So, to actually make sure we don’t lose anyone else, we are asking you to cooperate with us.”

It’s a fair statement. It’s even reasonable. But there’s something that just makes you want to scream like a child because it doesn’t feel fair. However, before you can say anything else, Prentiss is suddenly speaking and suddenly it feels like the wind gets knocked out of you because she just sounds patient.

“The sooner we can catch this man, the sooner we’ll be gone.” Prentiss offers you something that is close to a smile, just not quite, “And if it helps… Only one of us will be staying here. We just can’t keep driving out here where we’re actively looking into other things, too much of the day will be eaten up.”

You look at her, really look at her. She’s almost familiar, in the same way the stranger you keep seeing at the grocery store is. A deep ache fills your chest and all the frustration and anger that was beginning to build within you just dies. It’s a sense of defeat that you don’t often feel. You let out a small sigh, looking away from Prentiss to turn your gaze back at Hotchner.

“Fine.” Your voice is still clipped and short, but it has less of an edge, “What do you want me to do?”

You can hear Mackens make a noise that sounds like relief again and you suppress an eyeroll. Hotchner stays silent, but his eyes narrow at you and you wish he would just say that he’s bothered. Morgan is the one to actually speak up after clearing his throat and stepping forward.

“Would you mind showing us where the body was found? Just walk us through that day.”

You frown, not too thrilled about the idea, “All of you?”

Morgan shakes his head, his eyebrows slightly raised as if trying to give a more open kind of expression, “No, just Reid and I.” You glance at Reid who hasn’t looked up from the floor. His hands are still in his pockets.

“Why only you two?”

“Prentiss and I are going to stay near the house and main road, Mackens will be with us.” Hotchner says simply, no room for argument.

Your eye twitches and you push down the comment that they could’ve just sent Morgan and Reid to begin with. And then you have to bite your tongue from mentioning the fact that you shouldn’t have to be involved with the investigation. But you know you’ve already been difficult enough, and the idea of continuing a conversation with Hotchner makes you exhausted.

So, you just nod, the frown on your lips only deepening as you motion at Morgan and Reid, “Alright… You two can follow me.”

You don’t wait before turning around and making your way to your front door. Muscle memory has you stopping to grab your shoes and you let out a frustrated sigh when you have to remind yourself your boots are still on your feet. You push the door open and hope the cold air will help keep your growing agitation down.

You can hear footsteps behind you and you don’t need to turn around to know it’s Morgan and Reid. You hate how your mind already knows their footsteps. You shove your hands into your coat pockets and begin to walk down the driveway, bypassing the SUVs that the agents had arrived in.

“Hey, are we not-”

You don’t even have to let Morgan finish talking to know what he’s about to ask and you interrupt without thinking, “We’ll walk along the road for about ten minutes and then have to cut back onto my property.” You keep walking, avoiding the puddles you know are much deeper than they appear, “There isn’t a road you can drive on.”

“Is that why the sheriffs had such a hard time retrieving it?” Reid asks, his voice almost energetic, curious.

It’s also why you had to see it again.

You swallow thickly and just nod your head as you reach the end of your driveway, “Yeah, not an easy spot to get to if you don’t know where you’re going.”

You step onto the main road, glancing behind yourself to look at Reid and Morgan. Your eyes glance down to their shoes, already caked in mud and grime. You raise an eyebrow at them before beginning to walk again.

“I’d suggest investing in some better shoes.”

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