Mission
TW: Self harm, cutting, mention of drugs, mention of rapist
Finn P.O.V
“Finn! It’s been forever and I have to shower, what are you even doing in there?” My dad knocks on the bathroom door. More specifically, he knocks on my bathroom door. There are two bathrooms in the apartment but one is currently … out of order due to a mishap combining sleepwalking, nightmares, and a gun.
That was fun to explain to the landlady, let me tell you. Luckily Mrs. Dale is dope so she let it slide with the deal that I’d help her son, Noah, with his math homework.
Dad continues to knock on the door and whine about me taking forever. I’m pretty sure this is how it feels to have a sister.
As it’s my bathroom, Dad let me decorate it however I want as long as I paid for it myself. Since I’m a child prodigy, and we live close to quite a few casinos that he’s been banned from, Dad doesn’t know that I made around $678,000 dollars at one of the establishments in a night. He was confused at first why he was receiving less bills than usual but I think he figured out I was intercepting them and trusted me enough not to question it.
My washroom is a lot homier than my room for whatever reason. I stuck fake plants all over the ceiling and vines down the beige walls. The bath tub with the showerhead attached to it is a bright white color but the curtain and mat under and around it match the walls. I have a muted pink mirror above a porcelain white sink. Finally, the floor is made of white tiles that are currently covered in blood.
I mutter curses as the banging continues, throwing my razorblade into the tiny compartment I built behind the toilet along with the roll of bandages I cut a strip off of. I shove my fist in my mouth as I pour hydrogen peroxide over the deep cuts in my arm and barely manage not to scream. The shower is still on from earlier and I use it to wash off the chemical before wrapping my arm tightly.
“Dad,” I call out, and wince at how pissed off I sound. “I’m a girl, and we get something called a perio-”
“Okay!” He stops banging and sounds apologetic. “Sorry. Just, hurry up?”
“I will, gimme a sec.”
“Okay.” Guilt trickles into his voice and guilt stabs through my stomach as I hurry to dry my hair and get dressed.
It’s been two days since … she’s returned, and to be honest Dad and I are a mess.
I never cut myself before this. Sure, there was the occasional cigarette burn, and I guess getting high counts as self harm, but never this serious. In the past two days I’ve spent about four hours in the bathroom making my arms look like barcodes. Part of me wants desperately to tell my dad and to stop myself, but he has his own stuff going on.
He won’t admit it, but I’ve seen his staring longer and longer at the secret wall drawer that has some dilaudid in it. Of course he knows I got rid of it long ago, but the thought is still there.
JJ, her, Hotch, Rossi, and Garcia have been trying and failing to make contact with us for the past forty eight hours. Rossi’s the only call I picked up, and we actually ended up hanging out for a bit. I made sure there was no dilaudid in the house and waited for Derek to come over before leaving with the older man. We ended up making a bunch of pasta but I stormed out of the house when he remarked on how immature Dad and I were since we weren’t contacting everyone.
His house is twenty miles away from mine but I walked the whole way back.
Derek really has been our saving grace since the big reveal. He’s been distracting my dad and me even though I can tell he’s messed up too. Part of me thinks this is his way of cheering himself up.
Issie has also been amazing. She’s been calling me every three hours to make sure I’m okay and to ask if I want to go somewhere. At first she was calling me every hour, but when I stopped picking up and came over and we took a nap together for about four hours then we watched Rick and Morty.
We know all the words to all the episodes and Derek and Dad were very concerned.
But the reason Dad and I are in a hurry today is because the team has been called in to Las Vegas, funnily enough the same area my mother lives in.
Dad is obviously dreading this mission, and I’m doing my best to match him because he can’t know my real plan. While hje and the team plan to find the serial killer going around my Dad’s hometown, I’m going to find my birth mother.
I’m going to find her and confront her about everything she’s done.
Which is why, as soon as I leave the bathroom and my dad enters, I pack a knife with my luggage.
***