april 23

[youfeelluckypunk]

It's Sunday evening, just three day until the next full moon, and there's a familiar tension spreading through the precinct. The Full Moon Killer, as the papers have dubbed him, is due to strike again soon and the Darrow PD is starting to feel the pressure from the media and the public to catch the man. Reid can't say he blames anyone, he wants to put this unsub away as badly as anyone else in the station, but it's been months. The man is patient, he will wait an entire moon cycle to target another family, which gives him the advantage because it means he's patient and beyond that, it allows him to prepare. Reid has determined that the hits on families aren't random, they're carefully designed, crafted from the structure of the families to the layout of the homes he invades.

He's also come to the conclusion that their unsub is probably sociable, even friendly, maybe works in a customer service-type position that allows him to see families day to day, allowing him his pick of the crop. The unsub doesn't make mistakes, doesn't leave any DNA behind, and it's really a remarkable thing that none of the wives they've arrested for killing their husbands in front of their children seem to remember anything. For the most part, the only thing they seem to be able to manage to coherently agree on is that the unsub is a slim, white male, early to mid thirties with brown hair and a sinister smile. The kids, too, when interviewed, all mentioned the way the man had smiled once he'd had the families gathered in their living rooms. The women had all claimed that no, of course they didn't want to kill their husbands, nothing was premeditated, everything was fine at home, and they'd been compelled. The unsub hasn't yet pulled a trigger himself.

Reid isn't sure what to make of it all. It's his job to put the pieces together, of course, and he's done what he can with what limited information he has. There's a sense of hunger for power and control, he suspects the families are surrogates for experiences he'd had throughout his own childhood. The only problem is, records at the Darrow PD don't go past five years, and nobody seems to be willing to explain why.

It hits a little too close to home. His own family doesn't fit within the father-mother-son dynamic, Reid knows that, but it doesn't make this any less frightening or disturbing. He watches these kids, suddenly fatherless and facing orphanhood if their mothers are convicted, get carted away to the Home and logically, Reid knows they're safer that way; and yet, he thinks of how lonely Jack had been there, how glad he'd been to get out, and it both fuels his rage and breaks his heart to think of what this unsub is doing. His biggest hope right now is that the unsub will slip this time. This time, because it can't be next time, Reid can't let another family die because he hasn't been able to figure this out yet.

He stays later than usual this evening, already having texted Luke not to wait up, and stifles a yawn as he heads toward the break room to fix himself a cup of coffee.

Comments

[youfeelluckypunk]

It's true, someone does have to know him and frankly, Reid doesn't think he's acting alone. That's a personal theory, of course, nothing he can really substantiate with evidence quiet yet but it's a gut feeling. The unsub may be the only one at the actual crime scene but that doesn't mean he hasn't had help getting there.

"Nothing that really fits," Reid admits. "We're getting a lot of calls that are mostly made up of people pointing fingers. People are scared, whether they fit the unsub's M.O. or not, and I can't blame them. But there are certain parts of the unsub's profile we didn't release, and we haven't gotten a satisfactory hit yet."

Reid's gone through every single one. He'd found a little bit of hope in a couple before having to admit defeat and disregard all the ones that have come in so far. It's running him ragged, if he's honest, something he's sure Luke has noticed. He'd feel guiltier if there weren't three dead families and the threat of another looming. He takes another long sip of his coffee, welcoming the warmth it brings to his throat, then smiles faintly at the detective.

"So what about you?" he asks. "I know this has been the buzz of the department recently but if there's anything you need, please let me know. I'm always happy to help where I can." The corners of his lips quirk up a bit higher. "But you've got a pretty good record when it comes to your arrests so I guess you're doing well enough on your own."

[primary_asset]

John smiles faintly, acknowledging and accepting the compliment in his own quiet way. It's strange to be here sometimes, strange to think of himself as actually working this job in a way he'd never truly imagined he might. Not before Carter, not before New York. It's true the Machine is the one responsible for John Riley, it's true that's where the identity and the credentials came from, but without Carter's influence extending to him even past her death, he knows he wouldn't be even half as good at this job as he is.

And it helps that Finch is willing to do what he can to assist John when he needs it.

"I was happy to get Mr. Anson in off the street," he admits with a small nod. "Sooner or later he would have done something to his wife there was no taking back and I'm just relieved we were able to get him in before that happened." Because he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself for that. It was the right move, waiting and doing things legally, he knows that and Finch absolutely supports the decision, but there are still times when John wishes he could do things how they used to.

Then, of course, Casey Anson might not have ever been found again.

[youfeelluckypunk]

That's a sobering thought, and Reid nods his acknowledgment, letting a moment of silence fall between them while he sips at his coffee. The Lunar Killer, loathe as Reid is to actually call him that, is still out there, still hurting people and likely planning to do it again and again until he's finally stopped. It isn't an unfamiliar feeling, working on a case and watching more people get hurt before he can figure out who the unsub is, but that doesn't make it any less painful. That doesn't ease the guilt. He's yet to be able to stop these families from getting torn apart, traumatized beyond measure, and it's overwhelming sometimes. He supposes it would be for almost anyone.

"That's what makes the job rewarding," Reid finally says. His voice is a little hoarse when the words leave him, and he clears his throat, straightening in his chair. "You know, I've worked for the FBI since I was twenty-three, I've seen a lot." He's been through a lot. "I used to wonder when it would stop getting to me. My, um, my boss-- my friend. He said to me once, 'We don't always beat the monsters to the babies, but we do enough to make the job worth it, keep the nightmares bearable.'"

He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes, it's tight at the corners and it's sad because he thinks of Gideon and how much he misses him.

"It's strange, I got kind of complacent here. It's just not the same level of monstrosity that I would see working with the FBI, you know? But this case, this guy, it's starting to get under my skin." Reid realizes then that he's tapping at the side of his cup with his finger so he sets it down, puts his hand on his lap, then huffs out an embarrassed laugh. "I don't mean to unload on you."

[primary_asset]

John shakes his head again, having long since gotten used to eliciting that sort of response from people. He doesn't speak much, so people assume he's a good listener, and he knows with some people that assumption would be wrong, but not in this case. It's part of what makes him such a good interrogator, the ability to really sit and hear what people are saying, what they're trying to say even if those specific words don't come out. Reid is telling him about his job, about the ways in which it can be difficult and satisfying, but he's telling him, too, about the man who helped establish him as part of the FBI. The man who helped him discover a way to deal with the difficult parts without letting them get to be too much.

"I was military," he says, this part of the story easy enough to tell without revealing too much, especially in a place like Darrow. The Machine doesn't exist here. Samaritan isn't coming after them. There is no Control, no one coming for him, for Finch, and so John can talk about some things without having to lie. "For a long time, actually, and after the military, I was recruited by the CIA, but once I retired, I didn't know what to do with myself. You see so much and you do so much that trying to go back to a regular life seems impossible. I ended up living on the streets. Drinking too much. Then I met a man who became my best friend and he told me what I needed was purpose."

And it comes down to the same thing. Why they do this. Purpose. Keeping the monsters from as many people as they can. It all means the same.

"We have purpose here, Agent Reid," he says and offers another faint smile. "You're doing what's right. Sometimes it just takes a little time."

[youfeelluckypunk]

Reid, unlike most people, has never really had the luxury of drifting. For some people he knows, the question of finding a career as opposed to a job hadn't really become a serious one until later in life but for Reid, the offers had come early and often. Being a child genius doesn't go unnoticed, though for a time, Reid had been keen on the idea of taking on a position to do research for curing schizophrenia. He'd taught the occasional class at Caltech until he'd attended a seminar conducted by Jason Gideon. Not long after that, Reid had followed Gideon across the country to join the FBI.

It'd been more complicated than that, of course, there'd been a lot of hoops to jump through because of his age, not to mention his sheer inability to adequately pass the physical portions of testing that would qualify him; but Gideon had been a strong ally, possibly the best Reid has ever known, and he'd been well-respected enough by his peers that they'd been convinced to give Reid a shot. He'd like to think he hadn't disappointed any of them. Even with his mentor long gone, he's certain he hadn't disappointed Gideon in the same way it sounds like Riley hadn't disappointed his best friend.

Still, as much as he loves his career, there are just some days that make him remember just how difficult it can be.

"This has been my purpose for almost fifteen years," Reid says. "I've been doing this a long time, too, I know the drill. I know I can't save everyone but that doesn't make it any easier when we don't. There's another family out there that doesn't have time, Detective Riley. It's supposed to be my job to figure out how to stop this guy, and I'm failing. Eventually, the question isn't going to be 'who's the unsub,' it's going to be 'why don't you know who the unsub is?'"

As if on cue, there's a crash against the door from its other side, followed by an aggravated grunt before the door is flung open to reveal a harried looking officer. Reid frowns at the sight of him, tilting his head as he takes in the look on the officer's face.

"Rodriguez, what is it?"

"Doctor Reid, someone called! There was a call, I-- I mean, a call about him, the suspect! Er, the unsub, someone said they saw a guy matching his description across town!"

For the first time since the whole ordeal had started, Reid feels something that feels like hope flutter in his chest, and he scrapes his chair back as he leaps to his feet with wide eyes. It could be nothing, he reminds himself, it could be a prank or an excitable person with terrible observational skills, but it could also be something. "You're getting a squad car ready?" he asks.

Rodriguez nods, so hard Reid thinks he might give himself whiplash, and pulls his keys from his pockets. "Right now, Doc, I thought maybe you'd want to join me."

"Absolutely, I do," Reid tells him, and Rodriguez grins broadly before nodding and running off with the promise of meeting at the car. Reid bites down on the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to remain composed as he glances down at Riley, though he can't keep the spark of excitement out of his eyes. "Maybe you were right. Maybe we just needed to give it a little time."

[primary_asset]

John remains exactly where he is, displaying the appropriate amount of interest and excitement someone in his position should at news such as this, and he watches the exchange between the two men, already thinking about what he needs to do. Call Finch, of course, get him whatever information he can about the location of the report and find out if there's anything worth knowing. Maybe get in touch with Dutch as well, although he doubts there's time. Taking a squad car of his own would be a bad idea, but he's sure he can find a truck to hotwire within a few blocks of the precinct and Finch will be able to keep him in the loop regarding where Reid and Rodriguez end up heading.

It's not that he doesn't trust them to do their jobs. He'd meant exactly what he had just said to Reid, this is his purpose, his calling, and he's good at it. But John's purpose is taking over where the police can't quite go. It's taking things further than law enforcement is allowed, and if this tip is real, if this leads to something, he wants to be there, too. Just in case there's something Reid can't go that he can. Just in case there's a place where his hands are tied.

John's hands are never tied.

"Go," he says with a smile. He has to time this carefully so he's not seen by anyone. "Get your man. Make sure you remember everything so you can tell me the details once this is all over." It's light hearted cop banter, something John has found he actually enjoys, so it's genuine, too. This is Reid's collar, this is Reid's case, John just wants to lend a slightly illegal hand if he can. If it's necessary.