chapter one / season three episode one.

THE BLOOD WAS RELENTLESS; HE COULDN'T WIPE HIS HANDS CLEAN. It didn't matter how much scrubbing and rubbing Jason Gideon did, the profilier's hands could not wash clean the blood of his dear friend, Sarah.

He'd had countless showers, baths and washed his hands in any sink he came across, Jason would look up from his hands and look in the mirror, and when he realized he couldn't even recognize himself he'd look down at his hands and wash the soap off; the blood would still be there.

You couldn't save her, the blood would taunt him with such words, he even swore they laughed at him when he'd frequently shed tears over the passing of his friend. You couldn't save her.

Jason couldn't disagree. He couldn't save Sarah. He couldn't save Rebecca either. (Not again)

Who could he save?

Would anyone even want to be saved by his bloodied and battered hands?

He couldn't save Sarah, he couldn't save Rebecca and he probably had a long list of names he couldn't save, and Jason was sure he'd soon be adding his own name to that list.

It didn't matter how much personal time he took off, or how many calls he answered from members of the BAU claiming that "all was well" and he's right on track to getting back into his office and continuing on in life as if Sarah's life hadn't been lost because of him, Jason wasn't going to be able to save himself and continue saving others.

No matter how many times he repeated: "It's what Sarah would want." or, "She wouldn't want to see you like this." He never found himself with the courage to get out of bed and back at his desk.

And yet, every morning he found himself having to roll out of bed and answer the incessant knocking at his door and Jason knew better than anyone that she wouldn't go away.

The worst part of it all was that Amelia Levine, in Jason's mind, was not supposed to be stood on his doorstep of his house or his cabin with tubs filled with soup; Amelia was supposed to be at work. She wasn't supposed to look at him with that pity in her eyes that nearly made him cry on the spot, or let them sit in silence as she knew that was better for him than talking his ear off.

Amelia was supposed to be saving lives, lives worth saving; not his.

Gideon had tried to give her the silent treatment or the cold shoulder but he should've known better, Amelia Levine was nothing short of persistent. If she wanted in your house to make sure you were fed, bathed and your house was in keep she'd get into your house.

If Amelia wanted you to have a shoulder to cry on, she'd make sure hers was extra close so that you didn't feel alone.

It only took Jason's resolve to fall within three hours.

Amelia sat with her shoulder perched near, almost calling him to let his tears fall and wet the material of her shirt, her eyes held unshed tears as she just listened, not interrupting him once.

Amelia just let him talk. Talk till his throat felt raw and his eyes stung from the tears that kept falling.

And when he was done spilling his heart out Amelia didn't leave, she didn't move, she didn't mutter words with false meaning or that she knew how he felt, Amelia just promised to be here for him, with soup or blankets to keep him wrapped him and safe.

Jason's hands were still bloodied, they were still tainted and they were unsafe. But, the hours he spent during the day in Amelia's company made them feel a bit more steady, a bit less like a danger to society.

Granted, Jason was sure Amelia had that effect on everyone. He remembered the day he'd met the girl like it was yesterday. They'd both been in the bookstore, waiting for David Rossi to turn up, her hands had been shaking in trepidation and she'd turned not looking where she was going. Amelia had ended up spilling her coffee all over Jason's white shirt, the folder she had previously held fell to the floor.

Jason couldn't quite tell you how many times she'd muttered an apology, or how many paper towels she'd shoved in his hands.

The nerves weren't what piqued is interest, the folder that had fallen to the floor had. The decorated hardcover had somehow been opened and he furrowed his eyebrows seeing the words printed in bold; DAISY ADLER, PROFILE.

Suddenly, Gideon wasn't so interested in surprising his friend at a book signing (after all there was another one tomorrow). Instead, Jason took the girl to a café and for at least four hours he listened to every piece of information and theory that Amelia had on the kidnapping of Daisy Adler and even he could admit that the girl was right.

And Gideon cursed himself for not having seen signs when the case had officially opened to the FBI.

While Amelia still attended university in Virginia, her and Gideon met up every Saturday so that the profiler could teach and educate her further - essentially taking on the role of a mentor.

Saturdays became Amelia's favorite day of the week. (Not only because Jason payed for her coffees but she'd walk out of the café every-time with a certain spring in her step as she couldn't wait to one day join Jason in the BAU, one day)

When Amelia later graduated the weekly meetings had to turn into phone calls when she found herself in Seattle and her mentor remaining in Virginia. She didn't mind, it just meant she had to pay for her own coffees while they spoke over a terrible connection and Gideon made her practice profiles over already solved cases.

Amelia graduated from the police academy in Seattle and soon found a lack of time to call Gideon. That did not stop her from making solo advances in trying to perfect her profiles, emailing them off to him to see if she'd gotten it right and even while being apart of the Seattle PD made her feel like shit, due to her coworkers, she still signed off every email with a smiley face.

Jason would've sent one back if he knew how.

It was a Wednesday when Amelia was called to a bank robbery, a normal robbery she'd supposed and that was the last time Amelia made an assumption because she had not been prepared on that Wednesday morning to come face to face with a bomber. A bomber who had no intention to rob this bank, but instead to kill himself and everyone around him.

Amelia had very minimal experience in talking down suicide bombers and her partner, at the time, had warned her against approaching the bomber.

Amelia hadn't listened. And had certainly ignored her much older, and much more experienced, partner's threats to write her up and have her never see the streets of Seattle from a patrol car again.

With every word that came from her mouth, the bomber's thumb inched further and further away the trigger.

With no loss of life, a hug from the bomber, and actual praise from her coworkers, Amelia found herself on a trial run in negotiations. Gideon had praised her on the phone and promised to take a few days off to fly over and visit, her parents had shook their heads and tutted, praise was no where to be found, concerns raised about the dangers of her job increased instead.

They were not flying over anytime soon.

Gideon stuck to his promise and so did her parents.

Amelia tried to ignore the ache in her heart at her parent's constant denial of her job and tried to ignore the lack of praise she received from them.

It took six months to feel respected enough in negotiations for Amelia to come out of her shell, that meant she laughed a little louder and more often, she poked fun at her colleagues and went to the bar with them every so often. It was the most comfortable Amelia had felt in a working environment since... forever.

She had a close friend. And then was recently reminded why she doesn't let herself get too close. A tragedy. A tragedy that spurred investigations into the unit, reshufflings and even the firing of the unit chief.

Amelia was the only one to remain. And again, she was disrespected, she did not join in on the laughter, the jokes or the nights out.

She planted herself at her desk until she was needed in the field (which was less than usual due to the new chief) and did not use her special pens to write notes anymore.

The office in Seattle felt like the walls were caving in on her and the glares that came from the surrounding employees did not help, stares that made her feel like a caged in animal at the zoo. Her leg could never stop its bouncing under the desk, and her toes always curled whenever she spoke.

Every morning felt as though it was a challenge to get out of bed. (That might've been to the fact her bed no longer felt like a safe haven from the field duties and had quickly been hit with nightmares and discomfort)

Seattle and negotiations was not the place she had come to love.

Gideon didn't know when she'd first arrived at his house that a resignation letter had been placed on her unit chief's desk and currently all essentials were stacked up in the trunk of her car. (Essentials included clothes, toothbrush, gel pens, all colors of her nail polish and the picture frames from her apartment)

Gideon had joked about her returning back home and getting back to her beloved job. He had not missed the way she'd frozen mid drying of one of the plates.

Amelia had been on the receiving end of a half hour lecture, followed by a further fifteen minute silence, twenty questions and an immediate call to Erin Strauss taken in the confinement of Gideon's locked bathroom as Amelia tried to protest.

It was her dream to work in the BAU, yes. But, not if she had not been wanted there in the first place.

Gideon walked out with a smile on his face and Amelia would've smacked it off it hadn't been the first one she'd seen in days.

Strauss seemed to be more than happy to get Amelia an interview for Monday morning.

Gideon had been too happy to detect the tone in her voice.

In the interview, Strauss wouldn't stop smiling. It scared Amelia. Strauss had complimented her so much the Levine worried if the world had ended, or that Jason had held a gun to her head in his efforts to get Amelia in the BAU.

Strauss had shook hands with Amelia with glee at the end of the interview and Amelia had to share the same glee with the woman. (Strauss was happy she'd be able to gather insider intel from the woman while Amelia was trying to understand the fact she'd just landed her dream job)

Amelia celebrated with Gideon with a night at his cabin and some amazingly made steaks (which were a delight after nights of soup), Amelia also indulged into glasses of wine. She couldn't remember exactly how many glasses she'd had before she'd starting screaming into pillows because of her excitement.

Jason had smiled at her.

Amelia had not yet called her parents to tell them the news. She didn't want them to ruin the excitement.

The excitement had soon transpired into nerves, especially when Amelia began apartment hunting. (She'd found the perfect one very easily and very quickly) Jason had helped her move in, they'd had a pizza night to celebrate the few items she had laying around.

Amelia's first day came around the day before it was supposed to and it was safe to say she was anxious. Gideon had played her favorite album in the car on the way to the airstrip in his efforts to calm her down, promised her that her nail polish color (pastel pink) was not inappropriate and would not have to be picked off and reassured her that everyone would love her.

It was impossible not to. Amelia was the walking embodiment of happiness and never failed to brighten up a room - even if it was a bad day for her, she didn't want to make it a bad day for others. Gideon could already envision the chaos that would spawn from Amelia and Penelope Garcia being in the same room.

Part of him couldn't wait.

Another part of him felt as though he shouldn't be there to witness such friendships form. He should be far away from the BAU, far away from letting other people lose their lives and their blood be added to the liquid that already stained his hands.

(He hadn't told Amelia that. And her nerves were taking over so she didn't realize he'd spent a good two minutes staring at his hands before they got out the car)

He knew Amelia well enough to know that the whole way leading up the jet she'd been replaying scenarios over and over again; specific ones like if she fell face first going up the steps or falling into someone.

Her fingertips tapped in a rhythmic pattern on the metal banister that connected to the steps up to the jet.

"Breathe," Gideon told her, stopping them right before the entrance to the jet, "They'll love you."

"I'm not even meant to be here today." Amelia whispered, ringing her hands together behind her back and them moving them to rest in-front of her, "I was supposed to meant SSA Hotchner tomorrow and then join the day after."

"Unsubs don't wait." He rested a hand on her shoulder, "Amelia, this is the one thing you've dreamed of since forever—"

"Fourteen."

Jason rolled his eyes, "Fourteen, whatever. You deserve to be here, Hotch will see that, this team will see that. You've got this."

Amelia didn't seem to believe him, but he pushed her onto the jet nonetheless. She looked at him with wide eyes and whispered, "If you weren't so old—"

A smile formed on his lips, "Everyone!" Their attention was quickly placed on the well-known man on their team who was coming back to his first case and his lady friend.

Amelia swore she saw someone's eyebrows raise and a low whistle followed.

"This is Amelia Levine, she was supposed to be joining the BAU in a couple of days but was put on todays case instead," Jason pushed her forward, again. Amelia glared at him, "Be nice. No flirting." he looked in the man who whistled's direction.

The man smirked, standing up from his seat and held his hand out for her to shake, "Derek Morgan, a pleasure to meet you."

Jason's smile fell.

Amelia smiled, "It's nice to meet you too." She felt like she hadn't said enough but then she had no clue what she was actually supposed to say. Did anyone really know what they were supposed to say when meeting their new co-workers who they weren't actually supposed to meet yet?

Amelia wanted to wonder if that was an unusual situation many had been in but she couldn't quite focus on that and instead realized her hand wouldn't stop shaking during the shake of Derek's hand.

Luckily, the person she came across next was Doctor Spencer Reid. He didn't like handshakes. She could hide it better with a fist bump. Spencer was the boy Gideon could never stop talking about and Amelia listened to every word the older man had to say.

Spencer Reid was a genius, who didn't like germs and had a eidetic memory and could read a single book faster than Amelia could imagine.

Amelia listened in shock and admiration when Gideon talked about Spencer.

Amelia was also knowledgeable in his lack of love for social of interaction, so she gave him a quick fist bump and soft smile to assure him that she was happy to meet him but they did not need to exchange words while everyone else was watching.

Spencer nodded in her direction, smiling as she turned away from him.

Amelia wasn't quite sure which woman took her hand first, JJ and Emily had nearly fought over it until they were reminded by Derek that the woman had two hands. Both of Amelia's hands had been shaken with excitement.

Another woman. Oh, the joy! Emily and JJ could've fallen to the floor. Soon there'd be enough women to take down the men, and Emily had been long waiting for that day.

JJ had an immediate maternal instinct built around her the second she told off the two boys for sniggering while Emily muttered a sarcastic comment into Amelia's ear and led her away from JJ giving the two boys a telling off.

Emily had led her directly to the Unit Chief who did not bear a welcoming smile, or the instinct nature to smother Amelia with information. He was serious, determined, and didn't look up at Amelia until she stood right before him.

Amelia's fists clenched, her eyes portraying her nerves.

This could be a problem. Amelia understood their line of work had never been pleasant but she had never been afraid to smile, she found that it usually boosted people's moods when they'd gotten woke up earlier than planned due to a case or were shook up after a negotiation. A smile made people talk to her, helped her be able to navigate their problems with the receiver.

A smile from Amelia Levine told: you you were okay. You'd get through this. You weren't alone.

It made you feel better, a weight lifted from your shoulders.

This man did not bare a smile, he looked as though happiness was not a word he was familiar with as of late, his eyes were tired and Amelia was probably the last person he wanted to speak to today.

The first thing she wanted to hurl at him was an apology, not a smile. Amelia wanted to apologize that Strauss had put her on this jet today and that she would not let him down, she'd be a shadow on the team if she had to be.

He looked up from his file and offered her his hand, "Welcome, Agent Levine."

Amelia wanted the ground to swallow her up when Emily and her unit chief watched her hand shake as she accepted the handshake. The intense eye contact he held over their shaking hands did not help the situation.

No more words were exchanged between them.

Emily led Amelia to an empty seat and then threw herself in the one right next to her, JJ sat opposite her and handing her the same file Hotchner had just been looking at (and was now intensely staring at again)

Amelia's toes curled inside her shoes the second she sat down. She was not wanted here.

She was out of place.

Emily heard a rhythmic tapping beside her, "Hey," she whispered and caught Amelia's attention, "He's like that with everyone, he just has to warm up to you," when Amelia didn't seem to believe her Emily continued, "I've been there, he's terrible with new people. Especially women."

"He'll be fine in no time." Emily reassured Amelia. "Just focus on the case, earn his trust and he'll be better than that."

Amelia smiled at Emily, even if neither of them believed it and put the conversation to bed.

"Shall we start the brief?" JJ asked, looking over all the members of the team who nodded. "We'll catch you and Gideon up."

Amelia nodded.

Arizona, here we come! (Even if her boss didn't want her there)

✺

A campus killer. Was the world not just against Jason Gideon? (Probably. And he probably deserved it)

Jason wasn't as concerned with his hands anymore, he'd forced himself not to be; he was in a room filled with profilers and a woman he'd known for the past six years who could study him like an open book. (Amelia was far too good at reading people, to the point it nearly scared Gideon)

The Flagstaff Arizona campus lacked a lot of things: joy, hope, new experiences and excitement. It was everything a campus shouldn't be. The only thing it seemed to have was a spree killer and bodies that just kept piling up.

Bodies that had their lives taken from them too soon.

Cameras started clicking the moment the team arrived at the scene.

Amelia shook her head as she went under the crime scene tape and began to analyze her surroundings.

It was well lit, near a shuttle station. The unsub was not afraid to be seen and he wasn't afraid to approach his victims.

Amelia looked over JJ's shoulder, noticing the victim's mace that had fallen to the floor and clearly hadn't been used.

The new agent looked up from the body and furrowed her eyebrows when it looked as though Gideon was on another planet, staring at the body that had her arms crossed against her chest.

A sign of remorse for the current victim, but Amelia could tell Gideon's head was elsewhere.

She knows. Someone taunted him causing him to shake whatever daze he was stood in and try his best to ignore the stare of Amelia, "How long will it take your men to clear the scene?" He asked the detective, Jim Griffith, at the scene.

"A few hours."

"We're lucky there's a curfew, otherwise, it'd be a mob scene." JJ told Gideon, who crouched beside the body.

"Have Hotch set up everything at the precinct. We'll run everything through him." JJ nodded at his order and stepped away from the scene.

Amelia frowned, standing beside Derek, "She knew him." She said, both men giving her looks that prompted her to explain further, "She pulls out a mace but doesn't use it? She clearly thought she was safe."

Gideon nodded, and murmured something to himself before looking in the distance with the same look in his eye that told Amelia he was not fully present at this crime scene.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows and exchanged a look with Amelia. "What do we do with him?"

"Tap him?" Amelia shrugged, not knowing what to do in this situation due to the fact she'd let Gideon sit in his own silence and think to himself. She didn't want to intrude in his grief, she just sat with him so he knew he wasn't alone. "Or, like just talk loudly so he hears us."

"He's staring off into the distance, not deaf."

Amelia rolled her eyes, "Yeah, and dissociating with his surroundings. He can't hear us."

She spoke louder towards the end of speaking to prove her point. Derek sighed when Gideon did not respond.

"Okay," Morgan exhaled, "Hey, Amelia, Gideon! I'm going back to the station, you two wanna join?"

Amelia winced, finding it unnecessary that Derek had essentially shouted down her ear.

Gideon snapped out of the trance he was in and turned around to the face the pair behind him, "Yeah, let's get going."

The older man stormed off in-front of them whilst Amelia cursed out Derek, "When I said talk loudly, I didn't mean shout and shatter an eardrum."

"I just wanted to make sure he heard me." Derek smiled teasingly, opening up the passenger door in the front for himself and the door to the back for Amelia.

Amelia came to the realization she'd have to play dibs when Derek was around.

✺

Brunette, an intentional pattern.

Well-lit area, mace unused, the unsub was apart of the campus and the school was being shut down; meaning they were on a time crunch, 2-3 days at best. And with the unsub being apart of the campus, the shut down could lead him to kill in a much smaller time frame.

While they were at the station Amelia tried her best to keep her focus on the folder placed in-front of her, to see if there was any small detail they might've missed but she found her attention being drawn back to the boss that ultimately despised her and her friend of many years, who had never seemed so disconnected from his job.

Amelia wanted to ask him if he was okay, if it was all too much all too soon but she knew he wouldn't appreciate it, not in-front of Agent Hotchner or his fellow co-workers.

She'd have to stick to watching him closely, even if she didn't want to.

"Alright, grab a seat. Let's go. Anywhere." Jim Griffith called alerting Amelia that they were beginning to deliver the profile, she stood from her seat and offered it to an officer with a smile and moved to stand beside a sitting Derek Morgan, who sipped from his coffee and then offered her a smile.

Amelia wasn't sure whether she was permitted to speak and it was obvious to Derek in her movements and the tapping on the desk behind them that she was nervous.

She was probably going to spend this whole case on edge, afraid to speak incase Agent Hotchner thought she was wrong or afraid to step out of line in a unit she did not belong in (yet).

"We know everyone's tired, working overtime," Gideon said as Derek sipped from his coffee, "I want to tell you how much we appreciate it."

"We'd like to give you a rough profile of the man we're looking for." Agent Hotchner stated, "This is someone with access. He's managed to move in a small community with a high police presence without raising suspicion."

Emily handed her fresh brew over to Amelia while speaking, "Which means there's a good chance that this is someone you've seen."

Amelia furrowed her eyebrows and passed it back to Emily. She could not just take the girl's fresh cup of coffee.

Emily rolled her eyes as Derek spoke, "This unsub has killed three women in four days," Prentiss insisted on Amelia taking it. "That's what we call a spree killing. Now, most likely, something has happened in the past few days to set him off."

Amelia decided to end this battle by putting the cup of coffee on the desk, where both of them could reach for it, whoever grabbed it first would just have to drink it.

Amelia took her chance to speak when Gideon took an exceedingly long pause, "He kills white, brunette women, his stressor probably has to be in junction with a woman in his life of the same description."

"Mother, girlfriend, wife, possibly child." Amelia paused, sensing a certain unit chief watching her very closely, "The women he kills are substitutes."

"What we need you to do," Emily slid the coffee back in Amelia's direction with a smile, "is look at people who are part of the campus fabric, see if anyone fits the bill. Students, professors, support staff."

The detective, Griffith, interrupted Emily, "I'm sorry, but how are my men supposed to know about somebody's home life?"

Agent Hotchner took over from Emily, "Well, the people around him have seen him devolving. If you suspect someone on campus, talk to anyone who knows him. Find out if he's recently found religion, been drinking, even if he's been harming himself."

"He may feel emasculated." Derek added to the profile, "Considering the stressor and the victimology, there's a good chance that rejection is a recurring theme in his life."

"The unsub is angry," Amelia said, deciding this was her last time speaking as to not step on any toes (or anger Agent Hotchner), "His victims are stabbed repeatedly, even post-mortem. And then he's guilty. He knew the victims due to his position on campus, he feels he's abused that trust."

"He's also able to kill these woman without them fighting back. Not one of them has defensive wounds on their hands." Emily said,

"Like if they'd been tasered first." Griffith suggested.

Emily nodded, slowly, "That's possible. Why?"

"Security guards on campus aren't allowed guns. They carry tasers." Jim informed them as a vital part of their profile just opened up to them.

Emily made her way out of the room, no doubt going to call Garcia. (Who Amelia had yet to meet but had heard a lot about from Derek. And if the Levine allowed herself to, her and Penelope would get on like a house on fire)

"Can you get me an employment list for campus security?" Gideon asked before following after Emily.

Security guard. It made perfect sense without even knowing the stressor that led him to kill three girls in four days.

Within half an hour, Amelia found herself stood a fair distance behind Derek Morgan who had just kicked the door down to a possible's apartment; Nathan Tubbs.

And it was safe to say the possible fit the profile to a 'T'. There was porn on his dresser, a half empty bottle of bourbon, a majorly messy floor (that Amelia would've been happy to clean if it had not been he was a possible) and the cutouts of each newspaper after a kill.

"Bathroom's clear!" Emily shouted after having nearly kicked the door off its hinges.

Amelia's eyebrows furrowed and inspected each cutout while Derek looked through Tubbs' bin. The cutouts were stuck to the wall as if they were something to be proud of, if Amelia hadn't been seen worse it no doubt would've made her turn green.

"Gideon, Levine," Derek called them over to the bin and showed them the pictures that had all been cut so that Tubb's ex-wife was cut out of the existing picture.

"Found his stressor alright." Amelia murmured as she looked through the pictures with Derek.

Emily looked over his schedule, "I've got his work schedule here, he's not on duty."

Gideon cracked open a chest, that once opened revealed a chest of a mix of knives, "Where is he?"

"Patrolling." Amelia whispered, Gideon snapped his head in her direction, "Think about it. If he's not here, he's not on duty and he knows the campus is closing and he needs to kill, he'll use a patrol car and his job to his advantage."

"His victim won't know any difference."

"So," Gideon exhaled, "Where on campus is he?"

✺

If I were a spree killer, killing brunettes where would I be? Amelia's answer would not be anywhere near a car park, that's too obvious and would lead you to getting caught.

Their unsub's answer, however, was exactly near a car park - as Amelia had predicted due to the fact their unsub is acting on rage, not intelligence. Tubbs wasn't thinking about getting caught, he was too caught up in the kill of the moment.

The sirens of their SUVs and the patrol cars all mixed together as they worked to block him in, Tubbs looked taken by surprise when a multitude of FBI agents stood by his window with their guns pointed at him.

"Nathan Tubbs, hands were I can see them!" Derek kept repeating the order while Amelia made her way towards the passenger door and opened it for whoever Tubbs had tried to get that night.

The door opened before Amelia could do such.

A timid figure with raised hands stepped out of the car, Amelia lowered her gun, "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"No..." the frightened brunette whispered.

"We aren't going to hurt you and he's not going to either." Amelia promised and took a tentative step forward, "It's okay."

The girl looked behind her as she heard the shouts of Tubbs, Amelia wrapped her arm around her shoulders, "You're okay. He can't hurt you."

Amelia was glad that this girl couldn't be added to Nathan Tubbs' list of victims, and she was also glad that her first case with the BAU had been a success.

A success. Was there any greater feeling?

It would've been a greater feeling if everyone else shared the feeling of success with Amelia and Gideon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
i've literally rewrote this chapter so many times and i hate it every time it'll get better i swear

gonna post and run away again