ABLOCATE ▇▇▇▇ VOLUME ONE
━━ ❛ 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒆 ❜

chapter no. 025!

❝ AN EASY WAY TO DIE. ❞
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     "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY WHEN ONE OF THEM ASKS? I GOT IN TROUBLE FOR SPILLING COFFEE ON THE PRINTER AND WAS OVERHEARD CUSSING IT OUT?" Cara retorted factitiously, yet her tone was bland; her phone pressed to her ear while she stood outside Penelope's office.

     Silence answered her for a split second. "Did you?" Hotch returned, and the sound of the rest of the team echoed in the background.

     Pressing her lips together, the blonde rocked on the back of her feet. "Possibly?" she replied, although the response sounded more like a question as it left her mouth. Her brows furrowed together slightly as she spoke.

     Hotch sighed inaudibly. "It was a comprehensive evaluation of your work done at the BAU so far," he spoke simply.

     "Again, I'd like to apologize in advance for saying this sir, but come on. Really?" Cara deadpanned. "I may not know much about real jobs considering this is the only one I've ever had, but I'm quite certain that job evaluations don't result in the employee storming out of the office with their two bosses following after them."

     It was silent for nine seconds. "All right. The team can know that you had a conversation with Sánchez. The details of that conversation cannot be divulged. Nothing. Not a word. Clear?" Hotch asked, his voice low, and the woman could detect reluctance in his words.

     "Crystal."

     The call ended and she looked at the screen, noticing that Spencer had texted her earlier that morning, wondering where she was. Her stomach twisted as she slid the device into her back pocket.

     The door to Penelope's office opened and the colorful blonde poked her head out. "The briefing is about to start," she murmured; her brows scrunched together in concern as she stared at her friend.

     Looking up, Cara nodded and the latter held the door open for her, welcoming her in. The team didn't have time for a briefing that morning. Instead, it was being held entirely on the jet. It was going to be odd, not being there with everyone else.

     Sitting down next to Penelope, Cara raised a brow at the bottle of water, a cup of hot coffee, and saltine crackers laid before her. "What's this?" she asked, shrugging off her leather jacket.

     "You were looking a little green earlier. I thought this might help," the woman responded, giving her a small smile. "Besides, you worry me, girl. You hardly ever eat."

     Cara raised a brow, reaching for the coffee. "Bubblegum, I eat half your fridge whenever I come over," she pointed out.

     "Yeah, and then for breakfast you drink three cups of coffee, sometimes eat something solid for lunch, and you only eat dinner whenever I come over for movie night. At least to my knowledge," she added quickly, getting her computer screens ready for the video call.

     "I just don't get hungry," she replied, opening the pack of saltines before pulling her hair up into a high ponytail. Strands of platinum blonde hair that she missed framed her face and she tucked them behind her ears.

     Penelope glanced over at her. "I'm not a doctor, but I think you should see one," she admitted gently, giving her a knowing look.

     "I do," Cara retorted, "every day. His name's Spencer Reid, perhaps you've heard of him?"

     A laugh escaped the analyst's mouth and she shook her head. "Oh, you smart-ass," she gasped, and a beep came from the computer.

     "Who's a smart-ass?" Morgan inquired, raising a brow. The entire teamed filled up the screen in front of the two.

     Penelope smirked. "Cara," she replied, jabbing her thumb at the blonde beside her. Cara picked up her mug and held it up in the air, mimicking the movement of toasting to a drink, winking.

     Morgan chuckled, shaking his head.

     "Let's get started," Hotch announced, looking at his file.

     "Right! Well, the details are sketchy, but one-hundred-and-thirty minutes ago, a man shot and killed two gang members at a park on the outskirts of the city. A third gang member fled the scene, the shooter hunted him down at a gas station over a mile away to finish the job." Penelope breathed, pulling up the case information on the screen that was to Cara's right so she could read over the details.

     "Not your typical M.O. for a gang shooting," the ex-convict mused, reaching for a cracker.

     Penelope sighed, glancing at the document on the screen to her left. "Oh, but there's more. After the third gang member was killed, a fourth person was shot and killed at a bus stop less than a half a mile away from the gas station."

     "Is it gang-related?" Morgan asked, looking to the camera.

     The analyst shrugged. "I don't know. Details are still coming in."

     "Four homicides, three locations, all within one-hundred-and-ten minutes," Blake repeated.

     "You know, the description of our UnSub is pretty vague," Spencer spoke up. "Forties, fifties, rumpled clothing like they could have been slept in."

     Cara furrowed her brow, chewing silently on a mouthful of crackers as she read over the reports.

     An incoming call rang on Morgan's phone and he stepped away from view.

     "And two witnesses in the park said he appeared to have been drinking. They could smell alcohol on him." Blake spoke up again.

     "The first three victims all had police records—car theft, aggravated assault, and drug dealing," Hotch reported.

     Swallowing, Cara cleared her throat. "If they're involved with drugs, the UnSub might be a disgruntled customer."

     "Sorry. Babysitting issues at home." JJ apologized, entering the camera frame and sitting down, tucking her phone into her back pocket.

     From her seat, Cara watched as Spencer stared at the blonde, a curious expression on his face. Moving her eyes to JJ, Cara noticed that she had tucked her hair behind her ears. A tell of her's that the woman had picked up on recently; she was lying.

     "Garcia, did we get confirmation that the fourth victim at the bus stop was not gang-affiliated?" Hotch asked.

     Penelope nodded. "That is correct, sir. Paul Haller, high school senior. Not an angel, though. Haller has a few minor robbery arrests from the past, and police found a wallet on his body, cash, and credit cards belonging to a Sita Patel."

     "Purse-snatching?" JJ inquired, scrunching her brows together.

     "Gang members, mugger. We might be looking at a vigilante." Spencer suggested, looking back to everyone else.

     "All right, I just got off the phone with Cleveland P.D. If we are dealing with a spree killer, at least he's on a slower boil now. No new incidents reported in the past hour." Morgan announced, walking back to the team.

     JJ furrowed her brows, adjusting her seating as she read over the document on her tablet. "The victim at the gas station wasn't just shot. The body showed signs of having been run over multiple times by a large vehicle."

     "That is one way to put the "over" in overkill." Blake mused, her eyes directed downward.

     "Morgan, you and JJ go to the park where the first shooting took place. Blake, go to the gas station crime scene, and as soon as we can find Sita Patel, Reid and I will talk to her, see if she interacted with the UnSub." Hotch assigned, and everyone nodded.

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     ONCE THE VIDEO CALL CAME TO A CLOSE, HOTCH CLEARED HIS THROAT. The team averted their attention to him. By the look on his face, they could tell that what he was about to say was serious and most likely had to do with the events of that morning. "Owen Sánchez was attacked last night in prison. He's in the ICU." Hotch announced; his expression neutral.

     Spencer and Blake's eyes widened while JJ and Morgan shared curious expressions. The name Owen Sánchez was one that hadn't been uttered in quite some time. Nobody had thought they'd be hearing from or about him for a while.

     "Is that why Valentine stormed out of your office?" Blake questioned, lowering her tablet.

     Hotch shook his head, folding his hands. "This morning, Sánchez requested to see Valentine."

     It was then that everyone properly paused in their movement. Spencer's jaw dropped and he straightened out his posture, tempted to pull out his phone and call the blonde. All thoughts about the case and JJ's recent behavior had left his mind and the desire to be there for Cara returned.

     Morgan was the first to bounce back from the news. "What'd Valentine say?" he asked, sitting down.

     "She agreed to only speak to him over the phone," Hotch replied, meeting the dark-skinned man's stare.

     "The two of them talked this morning. That's why she left your office and stayed behind for this case." JJ assumed, raising a brow.

     The Unit Chief let out an inaudible breath. "I ordered Valentine to stay behind. She's not in a position to be in the field right now. This information is not to be shared." Aside from Spencer, the other three agents nodded in understanding. Hotch moved his gaze to the brown-haired doctor. "Reid."

     Blinking, Spencer made eye contact with his superior. "Is she okay?" he asked, biting the inside of his cheek.

     "Right now, I need your focus on this case," Hotch responded.

     "You didn't answer the question," Spencer spoke stiffly.

     Morgan's eyes darted between the two, taking note of the genius's tensed posture and subtle tapping against his case file.

     "She'll be okay," the dark-haired man answered plainly. In truth, he wasn't sure how Cara Valentine was doing. She was unreadable. All he knew was that she was upset and angry; two emotions that often led to a person's downfall.

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     "GARCIA, YOU SAID TEDDY WALSH HAD GOTTEN INTO SOME TROUBLE AT SCHOOL, YES?" Hotch's voice sounded from the speaker. The lights were dimmed in the room and it faintly smelled of coffee.

     Twirling around in her chair, Penelope nodded before sliding closer to her desk. "Yeah. Nothing serious. He stole a video game from another kid's locker."

     "And that's why Walsh took his son on the Expanded Horizons hike?" Reid asked, his voice sounding slightly distant.

     "Uh-huh, that's right," the analyst sang, reaching for her water bottle.

     It was silent momentarily. "And Expanded Horizons takes people out in groups, yes?" the Unit Chief then questioned.

     Penelope nodded, "Yes, sir."

     "Okay, can you find out the names of the other participants on that specific trek?"

     The sound of keyboard keys clicking filled the room. "Let me see..." she mumbled, narrowing her eyes. Two beeps came from the computer. "Oh. Lordy, lord. Howard Clark and father. Walsh and Clark were on that hike together."

     "I think we just found Clark's accomplice. Thanks, Garcia." Hotch called.

     "You're welcome. Go kick some criminal ass," she smiled, ready to hang up but Spencer Reid's voice caused her to pause.

     "Hey, Garcia. How's Cara?"

     Her finger hovered above the 'end call' button and her brows rose. "Uh fine. She went with Anderson to get dinner. Why?" she asked slowly.

     Reid cleared his throat. "I was uh, I was just curious. I haven't had the chance to call and talk to her yet."

     "Is that your way of saying you miss her?" Penelope asked, quickly 'awwing' after.

     "What? No!" He fired back instantly. "I just—with her talking to Sánchez today, I just wanted to make sure she was doing all right."

     At this news, the blonde furrowed her brows, confused. Cara had yet to inform her of that morning's event. As far as Penelope was concerned, the last time the woman talked to Owen was months ago in Vancouver. "Sánchez as in Owen-her-ex-boyfriend-Sánchez?" she clarified; her tone one of disbelief.

     "Yeah, that would be him."

     She gasped. "I can't believe she didn't tell me! Oh, we're going to have words when she gets back! I gotta go, lover boy. PG out!" Before the genius could protest, the call had ended.

     The door to the small office opened and Cara Valentine walked in, two bags of Chinese food in hand. "I got the goods," she announced, making her way further into the room. Once she placed the bags on the desk closest to the door, she glanced up. Penelope was glaring at her with narrowed eyes. "What?"

     Right as the woman opened her mouth to respond, the phone rang and she groaned. "Talk to me," she answered, spinning back around in her chair.

     "Are Howard Clark's parents still in the Cleveland area?" Hotch's voice echoed.

     Quickly typing, Penelope pulled up the records. "Uh, father died five years ago, heart attack. Mother—yep, Helen Clark. Sending her address now." The call ended and she turned to face the blonde. "I'm mad at you."

     At that bold and sudden statement, Cara raised a brow, waiting for her to continue.

     Penelope huffed, crossing her arms. "Why didn't you tell me you talked to Owen this morning?" she asked.

     Cara shrugged, pulling the food out of the bags. "It wasn't like I wasn't going to. I just hadn't gotten around to it yet," she replied plainly. "Plus, I don't want to talk about it."

     Frowning, the analyst pulled out her other office chair and snapped her fingers, pointing for the blonde to sit down. "You may not want to talk about it, but you're going to. I'm not allowing you to keep your mouth shut about this."

     Rolling her eyes, the younger of the two sat down, a box of chow mein in her hands. "You know talking isn't what I do," she sighed, using a pair of chopsticks to pick up her food.

     "Well, you're doing it tonight. Start talking, Regina." Penelope ordered, grabbing her food.

     "Owen got attacked in prison last night and was sent to the ICU. He requested to see me. I agreed to only talk to him over the phone. We talked. That's it." Cara responded, chewing.

     Penelope rolled her eyes. "People don't read 50 Shades of Grey for the plot, sweet Cara. They read for the itty-gritty, juicy details."

     At her words, the blonde groaned. "What details do you want? We talked. We argued. I got angry. He got angry. That's it. That's how every single one of our conversations goes."

     "You suck at lying."

     "Can I please just eat in silence?"

     "No. How'd the conversation make you feel?"

     It was then that Cara had nothing to say and she looked down at the box in her hands. Stabbing at her food, she inaudibly sighed. Not talking about her feelings was second nature. Not talking about anything was second nature. However, the more time she spent around Penelope, Spencer, and the others, the more she found herself leaning towards the side of truth—honesty.

     Parts of her wanted to be shared with others while the trained and instinctual voice inside her head kept screaming for her to shut up. The same voice she'd been listening to for years, but hadn't disobeyed until recent months.

     "I uh, I don't really know how the conversation made me feel." Cara finally answered, placing her food on the desk.

     "Did hearing his voice bring back any memories or feelings?" Penelope asked; all of her attention focused on her friend.

     She rocked her head side-to-side. "Memories? Yes. Feelings for him? No. Any romantic feelings I had for Owen died a very long time ago."

     "What kind of memories?" the latter questioned, intrigued. The amount of information she had and knew on Owen Sánchez was limited. Aside from what was in the Red Scorpion case files, all she knew was that he and Cara were together for five years.

     "Happy ones." A quick image of Owen picking her up and spinning her around in the rain came to Cara's mind. She frowned. "Memories of us being us and being together."

     Penelope paused in her movement, noticing the frown. "It's okay to miss him, you know?" she checked, reaching over and latching onto the blonde's hand.

     Cara nodded. "Yeah. It's not him that I miss, it's the closeness, I suppose. The intimacy of being with someone who knows every inch of you and doesn't judge when they see the ugly. I haven't had that in nearly seven years." She squeezed the analyst's hand before retracting.

     "That's a really long time," Penelope commented, a frown of her own appearing. She couldn't imagine going that long without dating anyone.

     "To some. I haven't minded it all that much. I prefer being alone, anyhow." Placing the now-empty box in the trash, Cara grabbed a fortune cookie.

     Penelope grabbed one too. "That's a lonely way to live, Rose."

     The blonde shrugged. "It's an easy way to die though." It was silent in the office after that statement, both women in deep thought. However, it was soon broken by both of their phones beeping. "Case closed. ETA three hours." Cara read from Morgan's text.

     "Well, damn. That was fast."

────

     A FAMILIAR WARMTH CURLED AROUND HER SHOULDER AND CARA TURNED HER HEAD, LOCKING EYES WITH SPENCER REID. A concerned expression was displayed across his face and he was tapping the recognizable one-two-one pattern against his outer right thigh. Before he spoke, his honey against copper and sage eyes darted in between hers. "How are you?" he questioned quietly.

     Once the question left his mouth, she forced a weak half-smile. All the energy she had drained long ago in the day, and she didn't have it in her to mumble a half-assed lie. "I don't know," she shrugged, placing her purse back down on her desk. Turning around, she fully faced him.

     "The last time I hugged you it was because you were hurt and I was worried. I didn't ask, but this time I am. Can I hug you?" he asked.

     A genuine smile tugged at her lips but she refused to let it break. "Spencer Reid doesn't do physical touch though," she mused, tempted to snicker at the pout that was beginning to show on his face.

     "That is not true. I have held and touched your hand on various occasions," he argued, eyes narrowing.

     Cara laughed softly, shaking her head. "I'm messing with you, Dr. Reid. Yes, you may hug me."

     From across the bullpen, Morgan and Rossi watched with small smiles as the two hugged. Reid's chin rested on the top of her head while the side of her face was pressed into his chest. It was almost ten at night and nearly everyone had gone home, aside from the team. Rossi had just flown back in from Los Angeles where he'd gone to locate his former Marine sergeant.

     "They've gotten closer recently," Morgan noted, nodding to them.

     Rossi raised a brow. "And you're just noticing this now?" he remarked.

     "No. I noticed a while ago, I'm just saying that they have. Valentine's gotten attached, to Reid at least." Morgan defended, his shoulders shrugging lightly.

     The Italian man hummed in agreement. "Good. She needs someone like Reid," he sighed, watching as the two pulled apart. The brown-haired doctor was speaking, most likely reciting a fact, and Cara simply smiled up at him. The corners of her eyes crinkled and for a split second, she looked as if she were in complete and utter bliss. However, that expression vanished as she turned and grabbed her purse, her face falling back to its standard stoic nature.

     Making their way to the glass doors, Cara and Spencer caught up with JJ, who was on her way out for the night. Her coat was bundled around her tightly and the dark circles under her eyes were clear as day. She looked stressed and exhausted, and the younger blonde took notice.

     "Do you have any plans tonight?" Spencer asked the women, opening the door for them.

     JJ blinked, quickly glancing over at him. "Uh, does sleep count as a plan?" she asked, a heavy breath leaving her mouth.

     Cara furrowed her brows slightly, concerned.

     "I'm going to a Korean film festival in Georgetown. Both of you can come with me if you want." JJ looked to Cara, the two sharing a look. "A lot of the entries probably aren't subtitled yet, but I can do a simultaneous whisper translation while we watch." Spencer smiled, pressing on the downward arrow for the elevator.

     JJ's brows flicked upward as she turned her head. "Sounds fun. I'm really tired."

     "Cara, what about you? You want to come?" Spencer asked hopefully, holding onto the strap of his satchel as he directed his attention to her.

     A small smile tugged at Cara's lips, and he noticed. "As long as you let me buy snacks," she replied.

     "Deal."