*ੈ✩‧₊˚

˚⋆ ┊    TWO GHOSTS    ┊ ⋆˚
☆⋅⋆ ─ act i. in the place of you and me

CHAPTER ONE — bulletproof

✎

❝ all we have to decide is what to do with the
time that is given to us.. ❞
↳ J.R.R TOLKIEN

⠀ ⠀ SPECIAL AGENT CHAVEZ DIDN'T BELIEVE IN LUCK. But if she did, she'd count herself as one of the overwhelmingly (almost supernaturally) unlucky. And if she'd known what was waiting for her in the office that day, she would have taken one of her much-needed days off.

The familiar, monotonous ring of a work phone had cheap black plastic gripped in Nancy's all too eager hand in an instant. It was like muscle memory. Even when she knew that whatever awaited her on the other side of the phone could be the best news or the worst.

"Chavez, can I speak to you in my office?"

Those words always made Nancy feel nervous. It wasn't as though she'd gotten into that much trouble at work. She was in no way a grade-A student. If anything, she was far more likely to be in trouble than being praised when called by her boss. The walk from her desk in the bullpen to the chief's secluded office was a short one. So short, in fact, that she'd begun to question what reason he would have for using the phone as a means of communication in the first place.

Slowly, Nancy pushed the door open, grip only tightening on the cold, steel handle at the sight she was so unpleasantly greeted by. Not on their part by any means. In fact, the sympathetic smiles on the faces of the men before her were somewhat reassuring. But not so much that the wall separating year-old memories from her mentally stable facade.

"Agent Chavez," Nancy's attempt to maintain her composure was likely futile. To an experienced profiler such as Aaron Hotchner, she was like glass; fragile and see-through. But at the very least, when comparing oneself to glass, she was bulletproof. To shatter and fracture yet not fall apart entirely had become a rather valuable skill.

"Sir,"

"You remember SSA Hotchner?"

How could she possibly forget? Her knight in shining kevlar. The very man that carried her from the infamous Miller Murder House to the ambulance she very nearly died in.

"Yeah..." Nancy hardly had time to prevent her breath from catching in her throat, voiceless words forced to become a whisper as she desperately cleared her throat.

"Hello, Nancy," his wise smile was ever the same. A reassuring yet rare sight that somehow made her feel like a helpless seventeen-year-old being rescued once again, the infamous incident eight years behind her or not.

"Agent Hotchner..." but professionalism came first. Hand extended toward her superior, Hotch was glad to accept, his grip brief yet somehow reassuring.

"It's been a long time..."

Not long enough...

"What... what are you doing here?" Nancy despised the way her nerves made her stutter.

"We need to talk..." he spoke with far more assertion than her quivered questions, turning to her Unit Chief with the decency to mask his demand as a question, "Can we have a moment alone?"

"Of course," his somewhat reluctant nod let Nancy know the men were in on something she'd yet to have the joy of being briefed on. Because if the BAU wanted dogs they would have asked. Not in person, might I add.

The way Hotch held himself. He had genuine sorrow in his eye. As though this was the very last place on earth he wanted to be, but the only place he could find what he was looking for.

"You could have called," Nancy hadn't meant for her words to come out in a snarky, teen-esque tone. But the second that door closed, and they were alone in the room, her mind was back to being interrogated by special agents and cops that should have known she was the victim, not the suspect.

"Would you have answered?" the nervous brunette froze ever so slightly. Because, truth be told, probably not. As much as she aspired to one day overcome her fears of working in the field without an emotional support German Shepard today was not that day. Had he simply called, she would have let it go to voicemail and let whatever other (most likely much more qualified) agent do the job.

Which begged the question, what on earth made her so much more of an asset that Hotch needed to speak with her in person?

"What's this about?"

"I'm sure you're aware,"

She was. Anybody with a working television or radio was. There had been four so far. Murders. Each of them a student at Westwood High. That is, Nancy's old high school. It was like the very worst kind of deja vu.

"Well, it was worth asking..." Nancy would stop herself from
making a joke of it, "Maybe you just happened to be in the area," This time, Hotch stayed silent. Somehow, he knew when something needed to be said, "Same MO right? Late teens. Kitchen knife. Name on the wall written in their own blood,"

"Yes, that's what we've told the press," Nancy quickly caught on to his carefully worded sentence

"What you've told them? What does that mean?" questioned the anxiety-fuelled agent. Hotch paused for a long moment, gently placing the manila folder once tightly gripped in his hand on the table before he slid it in Nancy's direction

"This unsub hasn't written their names on the wall," Nancy's stomach dropped before Agent Hotchner even had the chance to reveal what the newest masked killer had decided to paint on the walls. She'd realized it as soon as the words 'what we TOLD the press' were uttered to her face. Hotch wouldn't have come knocking on her door if there was some other way of getting answers. No, there was only one name that could possibly be dripping down in the homes of those poor teens.

"He's written yours,"

Briefly, Nancy's eyes fluttered shut. Silently wishing to be back in her home when they opened. That this was all some nightmare she'd soon wake up from, "Well," began the nervous brunette, wry, humourless smirk met with a sympathetic frown, "If I had a nickel for every time-"

"Chavez..." interrupted Hotch, his voice smooth and reassuring as he tapped the brown envelope with his index fingertip, "Take a look at the photos," Chavez pursed her lips, glassy eyes glued to the file on the table. She knew it was useless to hide her emotions from a profiler. Mind reading was off the table, sure, but his perfect analysis of her every move was a decent substitute.

"I can't," with Nancy's stifled whisper came an unpleasant realization of the weight she felt pressing against her chest, a tightness in her throat that stung her eyes and heated her ears. It only worsened the longer she stared at the unopened file. The pause between Hotch's next words felt like a lifetime.

"What was the reason you became an FBI agent?" Crossing the room, Hotch situated himself at the same end of the table as the young agent, "You told me, remember?"

"I remember," nodded Nancy.

"So tell me again," silent deep breath she so desperately hoped went unnoticed, Nancy forced her eyes from their fixation to meet the concerned Unit Chief.

"To stop other girls from going through what I did,"

"You have the chance to do that," every word of what he said was true. He was right, and convincing, and damn good at his job. And if it were just some case, Nancy never would have batted an eye in lending a hand to the BAU. Hell, when her big brother's expertise was needed from the IRT he all but volunteered her to take his place. But she refused. And her spot was apparently filled by some other twenty-two-year-old genius.

But it, of course, wasn't just some case.

It was every bad memory Nancy had repressed for the better part of a decade being served back to her on a silver platter. As though the natural light would give her a sense of clarity, Nancy slowly stepped toward the window. They were so high above the rest of the population. Her eyes gazed over the bustling city. Where innocent bystanders with lives and goals and families crossed paths with killers without even realizing.

Nancy turned, only for a moment, to face the not-quite-poker-faced agent. Even if it had been years since they'd last spoken face-to-face, Nancy could read Hotch almost as well as he could read her. She could tell he didn't want to bring her in. That it pained him just as much to ask this of her as it did for her to make the decision so quickly in the first place.

Fingertips brushing thoughtfully across her once tightly pursed lips, Nancy's arms dropped to her sides, swatting her blazer out of the way to anxiously grip her hips, "It's been eight years, Hotch,"

"I know," nodded the SSA, beginning to approach the brunette with caution, "And I'm not going to force you to consult on this case. But in the interest of your safety, I've been advised to take you into protective custody,"

Nancy hadn't meant to laugh. There was, truthfully, nothing funny about anything she'd learned in the last ten minutes. She'd gone through every stage of grief in about as many minutes as it would take to listen to Stairway to Heaven one and a half times.

"What the hell does this guy want with me?"

"Nancy-"

"Tommy is dead." but in all her mixed emotions, laughter turned to anger once again. And Hotch was beside her at the window now. Able to see the amalgamated fear and fury, "I killed him. I put a bullet between his eyes and I killed him and now, what? It was all for nothing?"

But Hotch had to remain professional, if not for his own sake then for Nancy's "This is not the work of Thomas Milligan. We believe someone is recreating Milligan's murders,"

"Why?"

"My team is working on an answer to that," answered Hotch, "But it's only a matter of time before the unsub's fixation becomes a danger to you and those you care about,"

"I don't have anyone to care about,"

Hotchner paused disbelievingly, "Your brother works for the FDNY," Nancy's anger dropped in an instant. There were people in the world she cared about. A whopping total of four. Her brothers, "He's someone close to you and the neighborhood in which the last murder took place," Lexi, her best friend and roommate. And Nick, her definitely NOT a boyfriend, boyfriend. Stereotypical boy next door and all that. 

Nancy couldn't help but let out a wry chuckle, proximity beginning to annoy her enough for her to feel compelled to cross the room back to the file.

"You know, you're knockin' on the door of the wrong Agent Chavez," it was rare for Nancy to admit her brother was better than her at something. Even when she knew it was well and truly the case.

"SSA Mateo Chavez is already on his way," replied Hotch, Nancy beginning to recognize the tone of a man being careful with his words.

"What a way to get my foot in the door, huh? You know I've always wanted to work for the BAU," Nancy was grateful for the words Aaron Hotchner decided to hold back that day. Because wasn't as though she hadn't worked with the BAU before. Besides, she was only young. A recently qualified agent that had her whole life ahead of her (if she was lucky).

"I know,"

Nancy was quick to swipe away the tear that had slipped through the cracks of her tough facade, "Where's my little brother now?" of course, the best way to put all dear behind her would be to focus on the one true danger she did care about. Something terrible happening to Eddie because of a sadistic murderer's fixation on her.

"The police station,"

"And your team?"

"They're all here," Hotch frowned, stoic and thoughtful, "I wouldn't be here if I thought there was another way,"

"I know." Nancy took a breath, "I'll help you find him," gaze once fixed on the wall suddenly met the supervisory special agent's concerned glower, "But If I see him, I'm going to kill him."

hi!

firstly wanna say tysm for 30k !! LIKE BEFORE CHAPTER ONE IS EVEN OUT ?????? fully insane that we hit that milestone already without any chapters published thank u sm tiktok people that watched my season 13 spencey edit :,)

i'm so sorry it's taken so long 😅 i've been trying to plan what's going on w this book up to at least the end of season 2 before i even attempt to create a writing schedule lol ( also sorry for the lack of spencer in ch 1 of a spencer fic their meet cute is coming !! )

lmk if my writing is still good too! cause yk anxiety can be a little shit sometimes n i feel like it holds me back a little lol but i can't be a perfectionist forever so i hope this chapter was worth the wait! :)

im fr so excited to for this book, like the same as i was when i started adventures in babysitting i just have a good feeling ab what i have planned n hopefully will be able to get chapters out more regularly 😅

im thinking these first few chapters n like nancy's first case w the BAU are gonna be completely original from my brain kinda (ofc w inspo from criminal minds n other pieces of media) cause this first case is gonna be very personal to nancy & her backstory !! so hopefully its a compelling and not entirely cliche storyline lol

anyway i've already spoken too much for an authors note to cookies to anyone that actually read this nonsense

ty for reading and voting
and commenting it really does make my day!

<3