i am awoken abruptly to the sound of my work phone receiving a call, most likely from hotch. i let out a groan as i roll over in bed to grab my phone, glancing at the time. it reads 3:02 am.

"hello?" i ask while rubbing my eyes.

"we have a case, get here as soon as you can."

before i can get any more words out, the line cuts. i, quite literally, roll out of bed and just about sleepwalk over to my closet, pulling out a pair of black dress pants and a grey button up sweater. i slip on a pair of nude flats, and just like that, i am grabbing my go bag, credentials, and gun, and walking to my car.

-

i open the big glass doors to enter the bullpen and am face to face with my very tired co-workers. i avoid spencer's eyes as i make my way to my desk, setting down my go bag. i open my drawer, and after checking to see if anyone is watching, i pop 2 pills in followed by a gulp of water. just as i put down my water, i catch spencer looking at me, almost out of disappointment.

i know that i'm not supposed to be taking two. i know that it can lead to complete dependence, and me taking 3 or 4 at a time. i just simply can't resist taking 2. i tried taking one, but it doesn't even help at all. two helps. two makes me feel perfect. besides, how would spencer even know what i'm going through? he wasn't locked up and beat in front of dozens of men. he wasn't raped. his entire family wasn't murdered. he wouldn't understand.

"hello? anybody in there?"

i am snapped out of my thoughts, quite literally, by derek, snapping his fingers. my eyes meet his quickly. "sorry, what do you need?"

"we are meeting in the conference room in 2 minutes."

"okay." i nod as he starts to walk off. i put my head in my hands, before moving my index fingers to my temples, rubbing them in circular motions, waiting for the relief from my pounding headache.

-

"Franklin Park, Des Plaines, yesterday afternoon." garcia begins as she hands us each a file. "3 victims shot at distance. It's the third such shooting in two weeks."

as i open my file, i am faced with crime scene photos. "a sniper?" i ask as a confused look crosses my face.

"we don't use that word." morgan says, looking up from his file.

i look at him, confused. "why not?"

"the public perception is that the FBI doesn't have an exemplary record with snipers." emily chimes from across the brown round table. "besides, a sniper is a professional marksman. these guys aren't snipers."

"what do we call them then?" i ask.

"L.D.S.K. Long Distance Serial Killers." spencer answers, not even looking up from his file.

"how many of these guys have we caught using a profile?" i ask yet again. i wonder if they ever get tired of my questions. i know i'm the newer member to the team, but right now i sound very uneducated.

"none." hotch murmurs. we all turn to him as worried looks cross our faces. this case isn't going to be an easy one. it will definitely be on the harder side.

"2 weeks, 3 shooting incidents, all shot in the abdomen." garcia continues. "first and only fatality, henry sachs. he was married, a father of 3. he was shot in a shopping center parking lot." i shudder at the thought of his loved ones receiving that news. he had kids. a wife. that must be eating them apart, because it surely ate me alive.

i glance back at the big LED screen as garcia continues, holding up the remote to let more pictures roll through. "9 days later, Doug Miller and Kevin Parks were playing basketball at a community center when shot, and then in Franklin Park, 4 days later, Jerry Middleton, Kate Murray, and Tim Reilly were shot. Local PD hasn't found any link between the victims."

"ballistics?" morgan asks, looking up at garcia.

"he's using frangible rounds which fragment on impact, which makes it impossible to make comparisons." hotch chimes from across the table.

"good news though, the park victims will make it." garcia adds. "bad news though, none of them saw anything. plus, there is a bullet lodged in the spine in one of the victims. the doctors are debating whether or not to take it out, not wanting to risk paralysis."

"so without a witness, or any forensic evidence, the profile is all that we have." i add on, looking up at everyone. the team sits in silence for a few minutes, worried looks plastered across everyone's faces. i glance at the victims on the screen. they were innocent, yet shot anyway. i've been doing this job for months now and it's still disgusting to me how someone can have this mindset.

hotch interrupts my thoughts. "well, we don't have time to waste. wheels up in 30."

-

"we don't have much of a profile on LDSKs. what we do know is that they're always male and most likely have some form of military or law enforcement experience. they also always contact the police or media." hotch begins, starting the brief on the jet. i sit in the back, listening from a distance.

"to take credit or relive the experience?" i hear emily ask. now this, i know the answer to.

"both." i say confidently, and everyone turns to me as i continue.

"all serial killers attempt to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. some use souvenirs taken from the victims, and others return to the dump site to, uh, interact with the body. both modes require contact with the victim. contact that LDSKs don't have." i trail off, noticing that i am rambling, before tearing my eyes away from the team, back to the file in front of me.

i tune out the briefing for awhile, trying to focus on what is in front of me. i want to understand this case. i sometimes feel like the one who always has to catch up, like i don't understand details or figure things out as quickly as the rest of the team does.

the sound of spencer's voice knocks me out of my thoughts. "he doesn't kill his victims. underkill is quite a unique signature. the question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally just to wound them, or is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target?"

-

soon, everyone finishes briefing the case and has moved on to sleeping, listening to music, or reading. my assignment is to go with hotch, derek, and spencer to check out the site of the shootings.

i hug my knees to my chest and circle my arms around my shins. i lean my head against the side of the plane, glancing out at the mixture of red, orange, and yellow in the sky as the sun rises, mixed in with a few clouds here and there. i've always been a fan of sunrises and sunsets.

after about 30 minutes, i feel the seat across from me shift, and my eyes glance up and are met with dereks. i just ignore him and glance out the window, but then i am startled by him reaching across and grabbing my hand.

"stella."

i snatch my hand away. "what, derek?" i say with an annoyed tone.

"damn chill, stella. i just wanted to see if you were okay. you've hardly talked since we got to work this morning." he holds his hands back in defense.

i bring my legs to the floor and lean back in my chair, letting out a sigh. "sorry, i've just not been feeling well lately."

"stella, is there something going on? maybe something mentally or with someone else?"

i blink really hard, almost as if i'm trying to physically get my thoughts straight. "it's nothing. i just get flashbacks sometimes to when i was kidnapped and when i was in the warehouse. they cause headaches, which i have right now. don't worry about it. i'm treating it."

he cocks an eyebrow. "what do you mean by 'treating it'?"

"my therapist prescribed me naproxen. she said it would help my headaches subside. i took some this morning before we got on the plane, it probably just hasn't kicked in yet." i say, while rubbing my temples.

"okay, well, if you ever need to talk things out, you know where to find me." he answers, grabbing my hand that was laying on the table and gives it a tight squeeze. i return that with a small smile as he gets up and heads toward the couch across from me. i glance back out the window at the beautiful sunset as we begin to descent.

-

"the cones mark the places where the victims were." the detective says, turning and pointing at cones spread across a large grassy area, surrounded by yellow tape.

"so we know he fired from somewhere in this area." hotch adds, his hands making a circular motion, referencing to the parking lot we stand on the overlooks the field of grass. "close enough to hit all three victims, but far enough away not to be seen."

"his wounding his victims intentionally would classify him as a sadistic killer." spencer chimes.

"that would help us?" the detective asks, looking up at spencer.

i turn to her to answer her question. "we know a lot about sadists. but most want to be close to their victims to watch them suffer."

"a powerful scope would allow him to observe it from a safe distance." spencer adds, still staring at the field.

"so how do we determine if he's a sadist?" detective calvin asks.

"we spend some time in his shoes, and we let him tell us." derek states while walking over to spencer, detective calvin and i. we all stare out at the field in comfortable silence, before hotch makes the superior decision to head back to the local PD.

we all pile into the black SUV, hotch at the wheel, spencer in the passenger, and derek and i in the backseat.

there isn't much talking during the car ride. just some small talk about the case, and about how we wish we could've gotten some more sleep. then, hotch makes an important point about the unsub.

"at the range we were standing at, the unsub would've had to factor in wind direction and speed as he shot."

"okay, well, how does that help us?" morgan asks, craning his neck to look at hotch.

"to do what he did, he needed a spot with a wide field of fire where he could see the flag to judge how the wind would affect each shot."

"so what you're saying is, he came here before the shooting and decided that that was his spot, and ensured that it would be empty when he came back?" i ask, looking in the rear view mirror at hotch's eyes.

"exactly. my guess is that he's shooting from his car. so he would probably want to get away from here quickly. he didn't stick around to watch his victims suffer."

"so he's not a sadist." spencer mumbles, looking at hotch as he shakes his head.

"he's a very smart, very resourceful, very paranoid sociopath." hotch finishes, while pulling into a parking spot right in front of the doors to the police department.

-

i take the place of a cone in the middle of the crime scene. we are working through where exactly the unsub is shooting from and where the victims were facing. in my hand, i have a camera, which is recording basically my point of view as a victim.

we've been going at it for about three hours. spencer, derek, and i have been taking small steps around the field, mimicking the victims. derek is way on the other side of the grassy area, whereas spencer is about 10 feet away from me.

every once in awhile, i have to tell hotch if i can see the vehicle that we have set up, mimicking the unsub's car. in the trunk of the car, we have a police officer pretending to be the unsub with a sniper, looking to see if he could get a good shot on us.

in the distance, i see the rest of the team walk up to a reporter, and begin to talk to them. JJ doesn't seem very thrilled. something must've happened.

a few moments later, i hearths sound of grass crunching behind me. i turn around and see spencer, about a foot or two away from me.

i look at him quizzically. "what is it?"

"act normal. i just got a call from hotch, and they think that the unsub is Scott McCarty."

i furrow my eyebrows. "who's Scott McCarty?"

"the person playing the unsub in the trunk of the car."

my eyes widen, and i scratch the back of my neck. "you've got to be kidding me."

i turn around and slowly see SWAT coming around the car, trying to obtain the element of surprise. "hotch is sending a signal if we need to drop down." spencer days from behind me. i don't bother turning, knowing that it would be a suspicious move.

"alright. just let me know when to drop." i mumble, pulling my camera back to the appropriate level to make myself look as unsuspicious as possible.

i watch SWAT put smoke bombs around the car, and i turn to spencer, who shrugs his shoulders.

i watch mccarty drop the gun and get out of the trunk, and then SWAT officers immediately push him to the ground and handcuffs him. a wave of relief runs through my body, but is interrupted by the sound of a gunshot.

before my mind can process what happened, i am pushed to the ground by spencer. i feel his shaking hands on my back as we lay on the ground for a couple seconds, before i glance up and see mccarty, laying on the ground.

"spencer, are you okay? you're shaking." i whisper as i turn my head to the side, to see his body wrapped on top of mine.

"yeah. just didn't want either of us to get shot. it kind of caught me off guard. must be the adrenaline."

i feel his hot breath hit my neck and cheek, and i shudder, considering it is about 45 degrees outside. after a few minutes, hotch gives us the signal to get up.

at some point during those few minutes, my hand snakes into spencer's, gripping it tightly. when we both stand up, and realize our hands are holding one another, i let go, and his cheeks flush to a dark pink. i give a half smile before cautiously walking back up to the parking lot, not forgetting what he said to me earlier.

-

once we got back to the local PD, we were pretty much at square one.

"how did mccarty end up playing the unsub?" JJ asks as she takes a seat in the corner of the room. i take a seat next to her before looking up at detective calvin, who begins to answer JJ's question.

"weigart punished mccarty for mouthing off during the profile briefing by making him the unsub, and sticking him in the trunk of the car all afternoon."

"so he was probably angry. pissed off cops talk loud anywhere they can, so long as anyone is listening." i say, turning to the rest of the team.

he went from wounding civilians to executing a police officer.

he's escalating.

-

disclaimer: some of these quotes are from criminal minds. pls don't copyright me. here's ur credit.