0.3

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❝I swear to you that to think too much is a disease, a real, actual disease

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❝I swear to you that to think too much is a disease, a real, actual disease.

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY


0.3 : 3:45 am


FIN STARES UP AT THE CEILING OF HER BEDROOM, UNFAMILIAR, EVEN IN THE DARK, THINKING ABOUT DEATH.

The Las Cruces case didn't go well. Ashley snuck off unannounced to go and talk to Aubrey Jacobs' husband again, who turned out to be the unsub and pulled a knife on her. Hotch had to shoot him in front of her. It was a huge mistake, especially for someone as smart as she is.

Fin had to turn her music up on the jet to drown out Hotch and Rossi chewing Ashley out, and the sad part is, she understands Ashley's pain. Having a serial killer for a parent gives you a strange guilt to carry around with you, this need to apologize for everything they've done, every life they've ruined. It's not your fault, but at the same time, you didn't recognize the signs, didn't do anything about it.

Fin wonders every damn day why she didn't call the police the first time Esther cut her.

When they got back, Ashley hinted a bunch about how she wanted to continue her remedial training with the BAU, but Hotch made it extremely clear that that wasn't going to happen. Not after she put herself in danger like that.

Fin's not exactly sure why, but maybe it's because everyone else on the team is so damn reckless, Hotch doesn't have time for one more.

She props herself up on one elbow and flips her pillow over. Maybe the cooler side will help her fall asleep.

Probably not.

She doesn't sleep much anymore; her brain's far too awake in the middle of the night. Usually it's planning, plotting out every step to catch Esther in every scenario, but tonight she's thinking about Nick. The first guy she ever truly loved. The first real heartbreak of her life.

And Esther's thirteenth victim.

Nick, her ex-boyfriend. Nick, the abusive asshole. Nick, the alcoholic and drug addict.

Nick, the guy who saved her sister. Nick, the guy who protected her sister.

Fin's not sure if she mourned him enough.

She rolls over and looks at the clock. It's 3:45. That means it's almost ten a.m. in Germany. Lars is probably awake by now.

Fin grabs her phone from the bedside table and dials Lars' number. The phone only rings twice, and then Lars picks up. "Hi. What are you doing up so late? Isn't it like, three a.m.?"

𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 ; spencer reid ²Where stories live. Discover now