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𝑬 𝑽 𝑬 𝑹 𝑮 𝑹 𝑬 𝑬 𝑵
❝ 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍? 𝚐𝚞𝚢'𝚜 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 ❞

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ㅤ"𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐍, 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝟓𝟐," Hotch began, "his body was found in his cab in east Harlem. He was blindfolded and shot once in the chest. Death was caused by a knife stab through his ear. The unsub broke off the handle with the blade lodged in his brain."

While Hotch stood in the front, near the TV, JJ was sitting down to the side as she continued, "It's the same signature as two other murders. Rachel Holman, 24, found in her apartment three weeks ago on the lower east side. And Kaveh Surrani, 30. The police found him two weeks later inside his painting studio in Hell's Kitchen."

"Different locations, different victimology," Hotch said. "It's possible we're looking for someone who'll hunt indiscriminately."

May frowned from her seat beside Elle and asked, "NYPD have any leads?"

"Guy's a ghost," Hotch told her.

"He kills at night, there's no witnesses," JJ added.

"Is the NYPD feeling the strain?" Gideon wondered.

"Well, they've withheld details so the press hasn't sniffed out a link between the murders," JJ explained.

"With no discernible victim patterns, the killer's practically impossible to stop," Derek stated.

Spencer couldn't help but rattle some facts. "Did you know the original Zodiac Killer continually changed his victims? Young, old, men, women, white, black."

"Exactly, and he killed for thirty years without ever being caught." It was Gideon who said this as he picked at his teeth with a tooth pick. But his words made them all turn to him, all realizing the underlying message.

May and Elle shared a look as they got dismissed, heading towards the bathroom to relieve themselves before wheels up. The former finished first and stood across from the mirrors, eyes focusing on the bags under her eyes that even she couldn't cover with her concealer. She sighed, crossing her arms before turning away just as Elle stepped out of the stall.

"You okay?" The Latina asked, immediately profiling her friend as she walked towards the sinks to wash her hands.

"What do you think?" May chuckled sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I'm living with a roommate who doesn't like me. You know what, at least he cleans after himself, no questions asked."

"Spencer still not talking to you?"

"Mhmm," she hummed. "Only looks at me when he has to. At work." She uncrossed her arms and turned to face the mirror again, getting a reflection of her current outfit. She was wearing a dark gray shirt tucked into a plaid—also gray—pair of pants. On her feet were regular black trainers. "It's annoying."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Of course I have," she scoffed. "He's being unreasonable. I already told him it had nothing to do with him, none of his business, all that. But he thinks he's entitled to know everything about me somehow and I can't understand why."

Elle shrugged. "Maybe because he...tells you everything? Thinks it's only fair he gets the same treatment?"

"Hey, I did not tell him to tell me everything, he just did it on his own. That doesn't mean I have to do the same."

"Well, we can't really do anything about that. Everyone knows that Spencer's stubbornness knows no bounds."

May joined Spencer at the crime scene at the request of Gideon, who led the way. Upon seeing the yellow cab, May couldn't help but grimace as her heightened sense of smell quickly got waft of...everything.

As Gideon leaned against the driver's window, May joined him by leaning on the passenger's, peeking inside. All while Spencer stayed with the NYPD detective. Gloves fitted on her, poked her head carefully inside, taking note of the blood splatter.

"Blindfolding a victim suggests the unsub feels remorse," Gideon began, "doesn't want his victims to look at him as he kills them." He stood up at looked towards the nearby structures. "What's in that building?"

"Nothing," the officer with them explained. "It's been vacant for a couple of months."

May groaned as she removed herself from the window, standing up straight with a frown on her face as she felt her muscles stretch unexpectedly. She looked towards Spencer as he began to speak.

"This train goes express after midnight," he said, looking towards the train station. "It doesn't even stop here."

"Means he picked this spot beforehand," May spoke up.

As Spencer spoke to the detective, Gideon quickly opened the back door of the cab and motioned for May to follow him. She nodded and did as he asked, watching as he sat in the backseat.

"What do you see?" He motioned to the cab with his hand.

"Well," she sighed. "He's definitely organized. He planned this whole thing out. Knew about the train thing, the abandoned building, and the fact that no one else was gonna be here. He's smart."

Gideon hummed, smiling slightly. But he didn't say a word until he got out and turned to Spencer. "Heard what she said? Guy's organized."

Spencer frowned—almost pouted—knowing he was getting called out. Gideon, just like everyone else, would prefer it if the Wonder Twins worked properly again. So he's been pointedly passive aggressive with the two of them. Though right now, his victim was Spencer.

"Gid," May admonished. "Leave him be."

Eventually, they met up with the rest of the team and delivered their profile. The most solid thing they have is that these killing weren't random. Rather, they were planned, and that the victims were executed. They still didn't know why and how they were chosen, but soon enough, another victim came across their radar.

May made a face as she walked into the church they were called to. She's never been one for religions like these, always leaving a sour taste in her mouth. Rather, she preferred her own beliefs; her culture.

They were led inside by detective Bennett, who quickly said, "So this is where terror starts."

"How'd they find him?" Gideon asked her.

"The night janitor."

"He see anything?" Hotch followed up.

"No, but he remembered a parishioner who was here earlier."

"So we have a potential witness."

"Right there."

Gideon gestured towards the new face. "This lady?" He then made Elle and Derek talk to her, while everyone else followed him towards their victim. "First public killing. He's getting bolder, huh?"

"He didn't let his surroundings alter his method," Hotch noted. "He's meticulous. Presentation is important as the kill."

While everybody else walked back towards the witness, May stayed still as she looked down at the victim. Spencer was still beside her.

"There's something about this image that's so familiar," she said mostly to herself as she put her hands in her pocket. "Like I'd seen it before. Can't put my finger on it though. And damn, it smells like old people in here."

She made a face and went to walk back to the others, but Spencer's words stopped her in her tracks.

"How...how are you?" He stuttered.

Turning back to him, she gave him a rather perplexed look. "You talking to me?"

"Who else?"

"I don't know, God? We are in a church, Spencer," She sighed. "I'm doing okay, just can't seem to fall asleep like I normally do. I think I'm just worried for my brother, heard he's...sick. You?"

"I'm okay," he nodded timidly. "I...I-I miss you."

"I miss you too, Spencer."

As she was about to turn away again, he cleared his throat to capture her attention. "Can we...can you stay and help me...here?"

May couldn't help but smile, finally approaching him again. "What do you see?"

Spencer then leaned down, getting a bit too close to another uniformed officer, but he quickly—and politely apologized before sheepishly asking, "I'm sorry, would it be possible to maybe...slide that thing out of his ear?"

The gray-haired officer sighed at his request, but didn't say no. With his gloved hand, he pulled out whatever remained in the victim's ear, and showed it to Spencer.

"Well, that's not normal," May pointed out, crouching down beside her best friend. "Is that..."

"Flint," he answered for her.

"Huh...hey, you know what, now I know what's so familiar about the blindfold. Iustitia."

"And the flint knife's symbolic too. In Egyptian mythology, it was used as a symbol of protection and..."

"And?"

"And retribution."

"Oh."

The next day, they were back at the precinct. Though at the moment, the only ones present in the designated meeting room were Gideon and Spencer, while May was in the break room making coffee.

"We now believe these killings aren't random, we might be dealing with a vigilante," Gideon explained, standing in front of a room of police officers who were intently listening to him as he delivered the new profile. "The unsub first shoots his victims in order to subdue them. Flint knife then provides both an efficient kill and symbolic retribution. Finally, the victim is blindfolded, like the statue of Lady Justice.

"This particular unsub, he displays both a heightened-- it's actually almost a poetic sense of right and wrong."

"Serial vigilantes are extremely rare," Spencer added, taking a cup of coffee from May who'd just entered the room to give it to him. "The exaggerated drama of these killings suggest that they're somehow personal."

"He, or someone close to him, is likely the victim of a violent crime," May continued. "His first killing was possibly against his original attacker."

"And since then, he's developed an overblown sense of justice in order to justify that killing to himself."

Gideon once again took the reins. "Because he chooses the imagery of Lady Justice, it's possible we're dealing with someone who works in or around the criminal justice system. Lawyer, paralegal, bailiff, even a judge."

"We'll cross-check unsolved murders against suspects in assault cases and victims who work in the system," Detective Bennett told her officers.

"Whatever the unsub's job, he's someone who's a cog in the machine. He's overworked, undervalued. He's used to not being noticed."

May took a sip of her own coffee before saying, "His sense of theatrics is a way to enhance his own self-esteem, convince himself he has a higher purpose. And he also knows that people look right through him."

Gideon nodded at her words. "Being faceless is his best defense against detection. He's everyone." He finished his speech dramatically, before snapping back into normalcy with a quick: "One last thing. We need you to close ranks. The more details slip out, the more he'll feed off it. We don't want him believing he captured the public's fear or imagination."

"Too late," JJ spoke up, having entered the room while Gideon was deep into his profile, the rest of the team with her. "The afternoon edition's leading with the vigilante story."

Detective Bennett frowned. "How did they get it?"

"I don't know."

Gideon read over the newspaper JJ handed him. "We were worried about this guy becoming another Son of Sam. Now we might be dealing with a vigilante folk hero like Bernhard Goetz."

After another busy day of trying to figure out who the unsub is with the help of Penelope, the team decided to eat at a Chinese restaurant for dinner. It was a restaurant recommended by Elle, who'd been there several times and embellished the place's cuisine.

They were all ironically sitting around a round table, passing food to one another once it was all served. As they prepared to eat, Hotch couldn't help himself from speaking up.

"So you know there was a big hole in the profile you presented back there," he said, looking towards Gideon. He and the rest of the team arrived there with JJ, and heard majority of what the three had said.

Gideon ignored him, instead pointing at Derek. "Can you pass the moo shu, please?"

"Uh, what-- what's the hole?" JJ stuttered slightly, frowning a bit at Gideon while passing him the food May had passed on to her. It was because May was set next to Derek, who passed the food on to her first.

"I left out the possibility our unsub might be a cop," Gideon answered.

"Well, they do know the system," Derek noted. "They're definitely overworked and underpaid."

"They see so much injustice every day, they can easily take matters into their own hands," Hotch added.

While fumbling his chopsticks, Spencer spoke up, "When someone like our victim is killed, police refer to the murder as a, uh, public-service murder."

"You know how many rapists I saw walk during my sex-crime days?" Elle asked rhetorically as she sat on Derek's other side. "None of the victims, they didn't want to press charges, or the juries, they said that she was asking for it. It was enough to make you explode."

"Well, it's a long way from feeling like that and actually committing murder, don't you think?" JJ asked her.

"Actually, not really," May told her, finally speaking up for the first time as she'd been stuffing her face since the food arrived, unabashedly giving Derek deadpan looks every time he'd pretend to give her his food because she looked like she hadn't eaten in days.

A waiter walked by their table, and Spencer had to ask for a fork. This made Derek chuckle—almost giggle—earning him a slap on the thigh from May.

"Shush," she said.

But Spencer was unfazed. "Did you know that experts credit Confucius with the advent of the chopstick? He equated knives with acts of aggression."

Derek, despite the rather painful assault from May, still couldn't help but quip: "You don't know how to use them, do you?"

"It's like trying to forage for dinner with a pair of number 2 pencils," Spencer complained, lightening up the mood. And as the team continued to talk about the case, May continued to eat as much as she possibly could, keeping one ear open to listen to their thoughts and ideas.

But all of a sudden, she started feeling lightheaded. Not enough to feel concerned about her physical health, but rather her...spiritual one. Swallowing her chopstick-full of chow mein, she quickly excused herself to go to bathroom, only to watch the world slow down right before her eyes before she could even stand.

Oh shit, she thought to herself, and clenched her jaw as the world then turned gray. She sighed, meeting the eyes of a giant wolf who stood right outside the restaurant.

"What do you want, Taha Aki?"

author's note: huh, wonder why spencer's being so nice all of a sudden?

idk idk ;]

hope y'all liked this update my loves! it's been saurrrr long ik but i've been insanely busy, please understand that. also! i'm experiencing some issues rn regarding plagiarism (check out my profile for info), so it's actually a bit stressful and sad. it's also annoying, because i wrote POV with all my heart and soul yknow?? and the fact that ppl just be copying it >:(

like srsly changing info but using full conversations, scenarios, is still copying okay?? my god.