An Emblematic Woman ● S. Reid | ✓

27- Live Wire

Russo

He grabbed me from behind just as I left the office. He knocked my head into the wall, disorienting me, and then dragged me into the woods. He sat on top of he ripped off my coat, then starting unbuttoning my jeans. I tried to fight back, but he was too strong. My only chance was to scream out for help, praying that anybody could hear me.

"Get off me!"

"HEY!"

We pulled up to the latest crime scene, this time she was thrown off the side of a highway. The coroner had covered her body with a plastic sheet, protecting her body from the hard rain.

"How bad is it?" Hotch asked the coroner.

"Bad," he replied. "I counted six stab wounds to her breasts, another eight to her vagina, one long slash to her throat," Reid lifted the sheet and looked at her body.

"He sliced the corners of her lips to, big slashes from ear-to-ear," he said. I did feel like looking at that.

"She wasn't naked, her position suggests she was thrown out of a vehicle. He's becoming sloppy," I noted, "Will you be able to determine any sexual assault?" I asked the coroner.

"I can't say for sure from this angle, but her clothes don't look to be taken off and put back on, the knife penetrated through the fabric. Should I be expecting more of these?" he asked.

"Yes, call us if you find anything deviating from the last three victims," Hotch said.

"Of course,"

We returned to the office after a few restless hours of sleep. I didn't understand why they sent us home to sleep; all I could picture was Tammy Whitlock's dead body on the street. Around one thirty in the morning, I finally let my head go back, and I fell asleep.

*POP* *POP* *POP*

I ran through the warehouse as fast as I could, trying to follow the sound of bullets as they echoed through the walls. I checked behind every door, every crack and crevice, but they weren't there. As I ascended up a flight of stairs, I entered a room, finding him with her, a gun pointed to her head.

"You willing to sacrifice yourself for her, Agent Russo?"

"Let her go, Sharrick," I told him. He crouched down next to Fiona, then repositioned the gun to his head.

"This is the last thing that you will ever remember," he pulled the trigger.

"Fiona!" I shot up from bed as another crash of thunder and lightening went off.

"Ken?" Reid sat up and looked at me, the time was five after two.

"Crud, I'm sorry. Go back to sleep," I whispered, laying back in bed and pulling the covers over me. Reid got out of bed and sat down on the edge of mine.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked.

"No," I replied.

"Was it Sharrick?"

"Yeah," I rolled onto my side and propped up my head with my hand, "Did you ever wish you could just select what you wanted to dream about, like a playlist or something?" I asked.

"Yeah, I've had my share of PTSD, believe me," he replied.

"Something keeps bothering me from that day, something that Daniel said," I said.

"What is it?"

"He said something about Maeve; if you don't mind me asking, how did she die?" I asked. Reid sighed and shrugged.