[CM] THE CASE

To subject conscience to creed, or idea, or tradition, or even inner impulse, is our corruption. — Lawrence

Everyone has demons.We eat with it and sleep with it.Between each breath, it is attached to our ears, tempting us to go to the abyss.

The day after returning from Reid's house, Griffith received a call from Hotch to reinstate him.He can only give up the book he just bought home and go to bed early to get ready for work.

On the first morning of his reinstatement, Reid rushed into the office in a hurry to bring them a case.

"You mean, there's a serial killer in Washington?"

"Yes, this is the portrait I drew." Reid tore a piece of paper from the notebook, Griffith glanced at it, secretly observed everyone's expressions, and silently returned to his seat.

What he didn't say is: that portrait looks like an alien.

Before Hotch came, Gideon made a decision, and a group of people rushed to the capital to catch the murderer who was let go by Reid. Gideon takes Griffith and Reid into the morgue.The forensic doctor was still cleaning up the bloody dissection table, and the Washington liaison stood next to the corpse with a look of resentment. Griffith put on rubber gloves, and when he heard that there was no autopsy, he began to examine himself.

Reid watched him skillfully open the eyelids of the corpse, and after a brief inspection, lifted the white cloth covering the corpse.

On the abdomen of the corpse, "HELP" engraved with a knife lay ferociously among the messy scars.

"This is the second body," said the contact. "That's why the patrolman didn't connect the two bodies. His full attention was on this."

Gideon reached out and pressed the wounds: "These wounds are very shallow, indicating that the prisoner was hesitant at the time."

"It makes you think the message he left is real," Reid continued. "He's asking the police to stop him."

Griffith snorted softly: "It fits the child's hide-and-seek mentality. These are all engraved by the dead."

Gideon suddenly asked, "How do you feel?"

Griffith paused and glanced at Gideon, who the old agent looked at encouragingly.He glanced at the contact person again, and Reid understood, dismissed the contact person with the excuse of negotiating something, and even closed the door intimately when he left.So in the cold morgue, only Gideon and Griffith were left alive.

Griffith found a stool and sat down.He began to take off the gloves, hoping to detach himself from the role of forensic doctor. Gideon took off the glove too, and pressed hard on Griffith's shoulder.

"Try it," he said. "I'm looking at you."

Griffith stared at the profile of the corpse.The terrified look of the woman before her death still remained on her bruised face, her eyes were staring at the ceiling, seemingly restless.

A vague sense of fear surfaced in his heart, this time, he no longer resisted.

"She...she was scared. This person didn't arouse her guard at first, until the first knife." Griffith said, "She was resisting, she just thought about how to escape. However, she didn't collapse, and the consciousness of survival was very strong. .”

What else?Despair, anger, resentment...

why me?Why am I the victim?why do you want to kill meWhy am I here?Why why why... I just want to live.

"Griffith." Gideon shook him slightly. "Enough."

Gideon clearly felt the youth's shoulders suddenly slump.He curled himself up tiredly, the glove dropped, and Griffith didn't notice.

"Enough," Gideon said, "You did it, good."

Griffith looked up with a faint smile, and said softly, "Not enough, too little information, not specific enough, I..."

"That's enough, no matter how specific you are, you won't be able to get out." Gideon patted him, "Go and wash your face, I'll wait for you at the door."

When Hotch returned to his office, a woman was sitting at his desk.She was dressed in decent business attire, obviously of extraordinary status, and was looking at Hotch's office.Seeing him come back, the woman immediately stood up and held out her hand: "Oh, Agent Hotchner, I'm Karen Steyer."

Hotch shook hands with her: "Member, what can I do for you?"

Congresswoman sits down: "I know there's a recent serial killer in DC who targets prostitutes."

"The news travels really fast."

Steyer smiled confidently: "I have a good team."

"It appears to be so," Hotch said politely.

Steyer continued: "I want you to guarantee that if you continue to investigate the case, it will not be publicized."

Hotch frowned: "I'm afraid I can't guarantee that."

"No offense, but I want you to notice that I said 'if'." The MP said in a threatening tone, "As you know, the BAU cannot intervene in local investigations without an application from the local department."

"Why exactly?"

"Six months ago, I introduced a bill saying that crime in Washington DC was on the rise, that I wanted to increase funding to address a number of social decency issues, and four days later, I would be announcing in Congress that the crime rate had dropped. So , I don't want the media to know that there just happened to be a serial killer who just killed prostitutes."

"But without informing the media, we are making a joke of these women's lives."

"I'm not asking you to give up your principles." The congressman still said with a smile, "Investigate the case and arrest the murderer, but quietly."

Meanwhile, Griffith was slumped over his desk. BAU changed positions once, and behind him was Emily, looking at him worriedly: "Hey, are you okay?"

Griffith made a muffled "hmm".

Emily hesitated for a long time, then handed him a fruit candy: "Do you want it?"

Griffith sat up and smiled at her: "Thank you." Then he peeled off the package and threw it in his mouth. The sour taste of the lemon refreshed him a bit.

"Well, are you feeling unwell?"

Griffith shook his head and said inarticulately, "I'm fine."

It's just that I never let go of the hallucinations, and I'm a little uncomfortable, but...it feels pretty good.

Emily didn't know the cause and effect, and was simply worried about the colleague she met for the first time today. Neither Morgan nor Reid were there, she looked around and found that no one was paying attention, so she was lazy to chat with Griffith temporarily: "I just came here not long ago, is there anything worth noting?"

"Huh? Yes," Griffith counted with his fingers, "don't eat in Garcia's computer room, don't argue with Reid about anything, and ask JJ if you have any questions..."

Emily nodded as she listened, and felt that BAU's life was rich and interesting—all things she had never experienced before.

At this time, someone called her behind her: "Emily?"

Griffith looked over to see Steyer standing next to them with his bag on his shoulders.

"Steyer." Emily opened her arms in surprise, "Why are you here?"

Griffith didn't feel good watching the two women exchange warm greetings. Griffith received Steyer when he came. Emily had just come back from the tea room, and she seemed upset to see Steyer enter Hotch's office. Griffith thought there was something wrong with them.Now it seems... women are terrible.

Steyer didn't stay for long, and left after agreeing to have dinner together.The MP's life may be very busy, and Griffith heard her high heels "tap-tap-tap", like his homeroom teacher who came to check the evening self-study in high school. As soon as Steyer left, Emily's expression of enthusiasm and surprise just now disappeared immediately.She hesitated for a moment, then lowered her head and asked Griffith, "What do you think Steyer is here for?"

Griffith was going to study the case at hand, and said casually: "I don't know, I don't understand what the congressman is looking for."

He didn't see it, Emily looked solemnly at Hotch's office, as if worried about something.

"Impossible, there are no juvenile delinquents?"

Garcia turned the swivel chair back and forth boredly: "You should think like a middle school student."

Reid leaned on the table and said distressedly: "I was 12 years old when I was in middle school, and I hadn't passed puberty yet."

Garcia stared at him dumbfounded, feeling another blow to her body and mind. Reid looked back innocently, and finally Garcia surrendered: "I'm sorry, I was wrong. Again, I think with the mentality of a middle school student, and you think with the mentality of a profiler."

"He said he was a senior in high school, right? Rule number one for teenagers, when talking to authority figures, you should say you are older." Garcia found some comfort from Reid's blank expression, "He is probably a sophomore."

Reid nodded suspiciously: "Okay." Then, he remembered the short conversation in the morning: "His coat is wool, but it is not outdated, and it fits well. It may be custom-made, which means that his family is rich. In In Washington, money means private schools."

Garcia looked at him the same way she looked at Holmes: "Look, you are still great."

"Look up private schools in the Northwest Highlands of DC," Reid said.

"Okay." Garcia began typing on the keyboard, "...well, there are three schools."

"Are there any electives at Georgetown University?"

"Well, there's one, Morton High School."

Reid leaned over: "Only in the third year of high school."

Garcia didn't move. "Huh?"

"Uh, sophomore."

"If it's based on my experience..." Garcia called up the database of the second grade, before she finished speaking, Reid hurriedly interrupted: "Wait, this!"

Garcia clicked and glanced at Reid's portrait.

"The little handsome guy is painted like this..." Garcia thought heartbrokenly, "It's a crime."

The author has something to say: Thank you for the honey-stained cherry blossom poured milk cake and the wild dog for the landmine~~~~