(17) A Real Rain
Season 1 Episode 17
Hotch is going over the last victim, cabbie Walter Derbin. “He was blindfolded and shot once in the chest. Death was caused by a knife stabbed through his ear. The UnSub broke off the handle with the blade lodged in his brain.”
JJ says that he’s the third victim. “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. Police found him two weeks later inside his painting studio in Hell's Kitchen.”
Hell’s Kitchen? How the hell did Matt miss this?
The team continues discussing the case around him.
“Different locations, different victimology. It's possible we're looking for someone who will hunt indiscriminately.” Hotch hands Reid the picture. Spencer knows he should probably say something now but something is just not feeling right about this case.
“NYPD have any leads?” Well, Elle, if they did, why would they call us then?
“Guy's a ghost.” Everybody can be a ghost in New York City. Like it’s hard. Honestly, Hotch..
“He kills at night. There's no witnesses.”
“Is the NYPD feeling the strain?”
“Well, they've withheld details so the press hasn't sniffed out a link between the murders.”
“With no discernible victim patterns, a killer's practically impossible to stop.” Now that even Derek said something it’s going to be weird if I keep quiet. Damn it, I’ve got nothing. Say something, say something…
“Did you know the original Zodiac Killer actually continually changed his victims? Young, old, men, women, white, black.” How the hell is that helpful? What am I even talking about?
“Exactly. And he killed for 30 years without ever being caught.” Okay, nevermind. What a beautiful save, thank you Gideon. This did not help because now everybody’s looking at each other even more concerned than before. Shit.
Let’s hope that I’ll manage to disappear for a coffee break or something while we’re there. And that Fury won’t know. I just can’t deal with him right now.
“This is not how I planned to spend a few days home in New York,” she muttered.
JJ sighed wistfully. “I’d kill for an afternoon at Barneys and dinner at Il Cantinori.”
Reid, walking slightly behind them, glanced around. The towering skyline was nothing new to him, yet there was an odd sense of detachment as he took it in. “I’ve been to New York before,” he said absently, “but I’ve never really seen New York.”
Morgan turned to him with a skeptical look. “Wait—you’ve been here, but you’ve never done the tourist thing?”
Reid shook his head. “Not really. I usually just visit a friend or something and my schedule is full.”
Morgan let out a short laugh. “So, what—you just fly in and hole up somewhere?”
Reid gave a small shrug. “Pretty much.”
Morgan shot him a look like he couldn’t quite believe it, but before he could press further, Hotch spoke up. “I thought you were going to talk to Reid about taking some vacation time,” he said to Hotch.
Gideon, as expected, barely reacted. “What’s vacation time?” he said dryly.
Morgan huffed, shaking his head in amusement before refocusing on Reid. “You do realize it’s a one-hour flight, right?”
JJ, sensing an opportunity, nudged Reid’s arm. “Well, if we have some time, I’ll show you around properly.” Yeah, ‘cause that’s just what I need now.
Morgan wasn’t done with his interrogation. “It’s a three-hour train ride, man. You could’ve at least walked through Times Square once.”
Reid’s lips twitched, his voice dry. “I don’t think my friend would’ve appreciated me going off alone to explore tourist traps when I’m here visiting.”
Morgan narrowed his eyes playfully. “This mystery friend of yours keeps you so busy that you had no time to walk down the street sometimes?”
Reid smirked, a hint of mischief flickering across his face. “You’d be surprised.”
Morgan chuckled but let it go—for now.
At the front of the group, Hotch remained quiet, listening. He didn’t add anything, didn’t comment. He didn’t need to. Because unlike the others, he already knew exactly who Reid’s friend was.
Gideon is giving out the profile.
“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 crosscheck unsolved murders against suspects in assault cases and victims who work in the system. 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. His sense of theatrics is a way to enhance his own self-esteem.”
Well shit. I really should call Mat. Or Foggy, just to be safe that it’s not Matt that has snapped. And to check if this is Pool… Naah, it’s way too clean to be Pool. But I should check on Matt though.
The team sat crowded around a small table in a bustling New York restaurant, the comforting scent of soy sauce and spices filling the air. Various containers of takeout were scattered between them, their work never truly put aside, even over dinner.
Hotch leaned slightly forward, his expression as unreadable as ever. “So, you know there was a big hole in the profile you presented back there.”
Across from him, Gideon didn’t even blink. He reached for a container, opening it with practiced ease. “Can you pass the moo shu, please?”
JJ, perched next to Reid, frowned. “What’s the hole?”
Gideon finally met her gaze, his voice even. “I left out the possibility that our unsub might be a cop.”
Morgan let out a low hum. “Well, they do know the system. Overworked, underpaid… Makes sense.”
Hotch nodded. “They see so much injustice every day, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine one of them deciding to take matters into their own hands.”
Reid, who had been struggling valiantly with his chopsticks, finally spoke up, though his focus remained on the food that kept slipping from his grasp. “When someone like our victim is killed, police sometimes refer to it as a public service murder.”
Elle exhaled sharply, setting down her container. “You know how many rapists I saw walk during my Sex Crimes days? Either the victims didn’t want to press charges, or the jury decided she was asking for it.” Her fingers clenched slightly. “It was enough to make you explode.”
JJ pursed her lips. “It’s a long way from feeling like that and actually committing murder, though. Don’t you think?”
Hotch didn’t hesitate. “Oh, not really.”
Reid, still struggling, lifted a hand to wave down a passing waitress. “Excuse me, could I get a fork, perhaps?”
Morgan barked out a laugh. “Man, you don’t know how to use chopsticks, do you?”
Reid shot him a flat look. “Did you know that experts credit Confucius with the advent of chopsticks? He equated knives with acts of aggression.”
Morgan shook his head, grinning. “That doesn’t explain why you can’t use them.”
Reid huffed. “It’s like trying to forage for dinner with a pair of number two pencils.”
JJ, smirking, grabbed another pair of chopsticks and a rubber band. “Okay, here—let me help you.” She quickly assembled a makeshift training set, handing it to him.
Morgan grinned as he watched. “Oh, the rubber band trick.”
JJ nodded. “Yeah, the rubber band trick.”
As the team ate, Morgan leaned back in his chair. “New York City cops do have a lot of pressure on them. Every move they make gets scrutinized.”
Gideon nodded, picking up where Morgan left off. “One of the first cases of criminal profiling actually happened here, when a New York cop asked a criminal psychiatrist friend for help with the Mad Bomber case.”
Reid perked up slightly. “The Mad Bomber was a major inspiration for the Unabomber. He eluded the NYPD for sixteen years, starting in 1940. But he kept his promise—never set off a single bomb during the Second World War.”
Gideon continued, his voice smooth and matter-of-fact. “Psychiatrist James Brussels developed a profile so accurate that he predicted when they caught the Bomber, he’d be wearing a double-breasted suit—and that it would be buttoned.”
Reid exhaled, shaking his head. “We’re in New York, and even when we’re not talking about our case, we end up talking about another profiler.”
Hotch let out a rare, almost amused breath. “You’re right.”
The moment of levity was short-lived, though, because Elle—who had been watching Reid with a knowing look—suddenly smirked. “So, Spencer,” she said, far too casually. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Reid’s chopsticks nearly slipped from his hand as his head snapped up. His wide eyes darted between the faces around the table, all of whom were now watching him with varying degrees of amusement.
JJ smothered a laugh behind her hand. Morgan just grinned.
Reid, horrified, turned to Hotch, silently pleading for an out.
Hotch, to his credit, did take mercy on him. Though his voice remained calm, he smoothly steered the conversation back. “Gideon, why didn’t you tell the cops that it might be one of their own?”
Gideon, unfazed by the shift, took another bite of food before responding. “If we’re gonna catch this guy, we need all the help we can get. The last thing I want to do is accuse one of them of murder.”
Reid let out a breath, relieved, while Elle and JJ exchanged glances, their curiosity far from satisfied.
The conversation carried on, but Reid had a sinking feeling he hadn’t heard the last of that question.
Of course. Of. Fucking. Course. I had to bump into Clint on the way out of the restaurant. Thank god that I was the last of the team getting out so none of them saw me get pulled to the side alley by a weird blonde shorty wearing all black.
“What are you doing in New York? I thought you worked in Quantico.”
“We have a case here. The vigilante homicides.” Spencer looks around at the team standing nearby having a discussion. Thank god that I was already quiet this case so they hopefully won’t notice that I’m gone soon. Clint still has a hold of my forearm. “Clint I don’t have much time before my team sees that I’m not with them.”
“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. The tall, brody one is already looking at me like I’m about to kill you.” Clint is now eyeing the group that is formed by the team near the parking lot. Hotch is looking over their heads subtly at Spencer and an unknown man that has all but kidnapped one of his team members. As Hotch nodds at Clint still having a hold of Spencer’s hand, Spencer tries to nodd back that he is alright.
“That’s some mad nonverbal you two have going on.”
“Clint, what do you want? I don’t have time for your games right now.” I am becoming slightly pissed off and this idiot is not helping.
“Chill bro, sorry.” Clint lets go of Spencer’s arm. “Have you heard anything from Z?” What?
“No I haven’t. I hoped you heard something when you jumped me on the street. Please tell me that Fury doesn’t know that I’m in New York.” For fucks sake I’m almost whineing at him.
“I don’t think he knows. He’s been focusing on trying to find Z and the other guy from MI6. He is not telling me anything because I am ‘not family or emergency contact’ so when I saw you right now I hoped you might have heard something?” Clint sounds desperate and Spencer feels a bit guilty. He knows that Z was fairly close with him as he was Z’s first S.H.E.I.L.D. partner. And one of the only ones Z didn’t want to kill because of their ‘incompetence’ before the mission even started.
“Sorry man but I don’t know anything. Just that if Z and or her brother show up or give anyone any sign of life in the next month, they’ll both be pronounced KIA and that’ll be it.”
“Shit. Shit Z’s brother?! Shit.” Now I feel extra bad.
“Look Clint, I have to go now, this has taken way too long and Hotch won’t be able to stall for me much longer. I’ll try to see if Fury has something and we’ll talk then. Find me when we close this case, I’ll stay in New York for a few days longer anyways.” Clint just nodds and leaves and Spencer goes and quietly joins the rest of the team that was just finishing the fierce discussion about a name of some dish they just tried. Hotch gave Spencer a look that he knew meant that they will be talking about Spencer being jumped by a weird blonde guy in front of their restaurant.
I need to call Fury.
Called Matt. Didn’t pick up. Called Foggy. Foggy told me that Matt has been bed-ridden since last week after a bad night. So it’s not Matt. Good. Asked if he or Matt heard from Pool. Foggy got confused but thank God for Matt’s hearing since he shouted that Peter said that he and Wade were hanging out when the last murder happened, so while that’s good, I am greatly concerned for Peter. Foggy got me to promise that I’ll visit as soon as I can and then we ended the call. Of course, because of course, not before Matt managed to ask about Z. I hung up before he could ask again.
I still need to call Fury.
The case if done. The Unsub was shot. The last victim will be okay. The team is moving around in front of the building where everything went off. Hotch is standing alone by one of the police cars.
Reid was pacing, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake off the tension that had been building all day. He pulled out his phone as soon as it began to ring and the unlisted number told him everything about the caller.
When the line picked up, his grip on the phone tightened, emotion clear in his voice. “Tell me something good.”
The voice on the other end, Fury, but the two of them didn’t know that, must have given him bad news, because Reid’s jaw clenched. “What? That’s it? That’s not good enough.”
At that moment, JJ and Elle stepped outside, laughing about something, but the moment they heard Reid, they slowed to a stop.
“I don’t care about your excuses,” Reid snapped, running a hand through his hair. “You said you’d call me, then you went silent for 2 weeks, and now you’re just telling me to wait ? I think I waited enough.”
JJ’s eyes widened. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
Elle frowned, concerned. “Didn’t take him for the dramatic argument type.”
Reid pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing harshly. “No, I don’t need to talk to someone, I need you to actually do what you promised instead of just—ugh.”
JJ mouthed backup? to Elle, who barely stifled a laugh.
“No, I don’t want to do this right now,” Reid continued, his voice lower but still sharp. “You always do this. You disappear, you don’t tell me anything, and then you tell me to what? Just sit and act like I’m fine with it?”
JJ covered her mouth, eyes practically sparkling with scandal, clearly enjoying this.
Elle, concerned for her friend, leaned closer. “Oh, he’s mad mad.”
Reid exhaled through his nose, turning slightly away. “I don’t care if it’s hard or complicated. I just need to know if you’re actually going to fix this, or if I’m wasting my time—” He cut himself off, gritting his teeth as he listened to the response. Then, finally, he muttered, “Fine. Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And hung up.
A beat of silence.
JJ and Elle exchanged a look.
“Oh my God,” JJ whispered again.
Reid turned around and headed towards where Hotch was standing. His brows furrowed. “What?”
JJ fought a smirk. “Rough night?”
Reid blinked. “Excuse me?”
JJ gestured vaguely at his phone. “I mean, we get it. Relationships can be complicated. Although they don’t have to be if it’s the right person.” Seriously, what…? Even if I was dating someone, which she obviously thinks, it’s so disgusting to still flirt and try to get in my pants while thinking so. Eugh…
Reid opened his mouth, then closed it, utterly lost. “I—what—?”
Elle patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Reid. Just ignore it.”
Spencer approaches Hotch, finally. They stand in silence for a while. Then Spencer breaks the silence. “Would it be okay if I stayed behind in New York for a few days?”
Hotch finally looks at him. “Of course. Finally taking some of the off days you meticulously keep collecting?” They both huff a laugh, “Who was that guy that grabbed you in front of the restaurant last night?”
“One of Z’s acquaintances. Friends? Colleagues? He wanted to see if I knew anything because he can’t get anything out of their boss since he’s not Z’s family or ECs.”
Hotch nodds and doesn’t say anything to that. If Reid wanted to talk about it he would. “We’ll talk when you get back?”
Reid just nodded as the rest of the team came to join them. Morgan is first to speak up, “What’s going on?”
Hotch looks at Reid and then turns to the team, “Reid is not flying back with us. He’s finally going to use some of his vacation days.”
Gideon smiles and nods before getting into the car. Morgan pats my back and smiles at me before joining Gideon in the car. Elle tells him to call if he gets lost which makes everyone laugh and then Hotch sees her give a look to JJ. JJ who looks positively gleeful. Like a kid on a Christmas morning. “I have a few vacation days too, Hotch. I can stay and show you around Spence, what do you say? Just you and me and New York.” Her intentions clear and out there. Hotch turns from her to me and raises his eyebrows at me.
“Uh, sorry JJ but I was invited by a few friends here to stay with them and hang out. So maybe next time?” Spencer answers sounding only half sorry. Thankfully, Elle sees my uncomfortable expression and saves me by leading JJ in the car and distracting her with some crazy story. Hotch and Spencer say goodbye and Spencer leaves in the direction of the closest tube station.