This is part 4 to my series "The Lovers! You can read it on it's own if you'd like, but it will probably be more "enjoyable with a bit more context: check out my masterlist to see where to start!
Pairings: Hotch x f!oc
Synopsis: Valentina goes on her first field case with the team, trying to fill a void left by Agent Gideon (Season 3, Ep 3: Scared to death)
C/W: typical canon violence, mentions of torture, phobias, criminally sweet coffee
Word Count: 2k (This episode will have 2 parts because I was at 3k words and show no signs of stopping, the next case will be more condensed (unless we like the extra long case's, in which lmk!)
MasterList | Valentina
Intro | Next Part
"I am out with lanterns, looking for myself" -Emily Dickinson
Val could tell something was off in the bullpen today.
She might have still been new to the team, but after two weeks, she wasn’t blind. She could tell there was a void from Agent Gideon, and though she never worked with him, she could feel the love and respect the team felt for him, and the confusion of him leaving so abruptly.
“He left everything but the pictures!” Garcia called, holding a box of what was left of his office belongings, a tall plant pointing out quite a bit.
“He always said those were like family,” Reid said absently, looking at a letter Agent Gideon left him, tracing the folds in the paper as if it would make Gideon pop out of the letter, saying psych, it was all just a joke.
“What should we do with all this?” Garica started walking down the stairs, box in tow, “We can’t just get rid of all of it, we have to preserve it!”
“Babygirl, he’s not dead, he’s just,” Derek trailed off, not having a better answer.
“He’s probably just taking a step away,” Val said softly, not quite sure if she was allowed to even chime into the conversation.
She had met Agent Gideon once or twice, through David, but she didn’t know him on a super personal level like the rest of them, she never got to work with him or solve a case or get some of his wisdom imparted upon her.
“I know Rossi had to do that before he started writing,” She continued, “Maybe it’s something similar, he did this job forever, he probably got burnt-out.”
“You might have a point,” Emily said, peering into the box, pulling out a worn-stress ball giving it a good-hearted squeeze, watching the pattern distort with the stretch.
“You know, you never did tell us how you know Agent Rossi,” Derek stole the ball from Emily, softly chucking it at Val, “Spill it, Pretty Girl.”
Val tried to catch the ball, but it bounced off her hand and hit the floor, she laughed at her failure before stopping to answer.
Or at least, give a sort of, open-ended, kind of an answer.
“Dave is an old family friend, I’ve known him for what feels like forever.”
“I don’t think you’ve told us about your family, what’s the story?”
“Oh,” Val said quickly, starting to pop her fingers, “We aren’t really super close anymore, at least my dad and I-”
“Sorry to interrupt, guys, but we’ve got a case,” JJ breezed by, headed up to Hotch’s office. “Round table!” She called.
Saved by the case, Val internally celebrated, no tragic backstory reveal today!
The four took their seats around the round table, Hotch trailing in after them while JJ started to hand out the files.
“Ok, we’ve got four victims in Oregan. 2 male and 2 female-”
“I got this,” Hotch interrupted, looking at her with an apologetic glance as he moved to stand in front of the projector. “I know that we’ve all been wondering what this was all about. And uh-” he paused, pursuing his lips, “You know, I’ve known Jason for many years, and” Another pause, “I can tell you I have no idea.” He took a breath, glanced around the table and looked at the files surrounding it, “But it doesn’t even matter.” He shook his head lightly, “What matters is we’re here, and we’re gonna continue.”
He flicked the projector on, four bodies flickering on the screen, three of them nearly unrecognizable.
“Portland field office uncovered a mass grave with 3 bodies, killed 6 months ago. Nearby they found another body, causes of death range from burning alive to asphyxiation. No sexual assault.”
Derek glanced at the pictures in his file, grimacing slightly, “Well, the torture’s clearly sadistic.”
“The lack of sexual preferences could make it hard to tell if the unsub is male or female,” Reid pointed out, looking at his own case file, flipping through the pictures.
“Typically female serial killers stick to the same M.O. It looks like the guy’s all over the place,” Emily corrected.
“Most recent victim is Jenny Wittman, asphyxiated. Discovered yesterday.”
“Were there any defensive wounds?” Val chimed in, “At least, that we can see through everything else.”
Hotch looked over at her, “None reported in the autopsy reports.” Val nodded.
“How long was she missing?”
“She was never reported missing,” This made Val furrow her eyebrows, a young woman not reported missing?
“What about the others?”
“Only one.”
Hotch explained the other victims had missing reports, but all got called off for emails being sent to the family, posing as the victims, ensuring their families all was well with them.
“3 Victims he buried in one grave-”
“But Jenny Wittman in her own,” Val finished Reid’s sentence, looking up at Hotch, “Do you think it’s the start of a pattern?”
“It’s hard to tell,” He answered, “If there is, it’s one down-”
“2 to go.”
“Wheels up in thirty.”
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Val sat against the window next to Reid, across from Hotch, nursing a coffee in the jet's orange mug. She had a mountain of half and half containers and two sugars, stirring vigorously. Hotch and Reid both looked down in her mug, almost looking like milk with the amount of cream in it.
“And you guys say my coffee is bad,” Reid scoffed, “That’s not even coffee anymore.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of a latte, Reid?” Val rebutted, picking up an empty creamer cup, gearing up to throw it at his forehead.
“Of course I have, lattes originate from Italy, the original entomology meaning milk coffee, traditionally espresso and steamed milk and served in-”
“Let’s go over what Portland found,” Hotch cut Reid off.
“One female and two male victims found buried together in the same grave, all 25 to 30.” JJ reviewed the victims and cause of deaths, the team speculating the M.O and the grave sights.
Hotch slid over his one creamer cup to Val, not looking away from JJ and his case file. Val smiled appreciatively at him, tearing it open and pouring it into her nearly overflowing mug, taking a drink and sighing in content, listening to the team, and Garcia calling to discuss the victims emails, or rather the fake emails.
“It seems like our unsub has a moderate amount of access to his victims' information,” Val thought aloud, “Do we think that he knew them before he killed them?”
“It’s a possibility," Emily looked over, “The guy’s definitely creative.”
“None of these M.O’s are very personal, either. They aren’t very hands on.”
“Let’s go over the details one more time.”
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
“Hi, Jennifer Jareau. This is SSA Aaron Hotchner, and agents Morgan, Prentiss, Cooper, and Dr. Reid,” JJ introduced the team to the deputy, and started setting up almost immediately.
“We’d like to take a look around Jenny Wittman’s apartment,” Hotch told the deputy, “I could use some extra hands,” he looked at the team.
“I’ll stay behind and work victimology,” Prentiss looked at him.
“Wittman’s place is on the fourth floor,” The deputy told him, “Feel free to set up around here, I’ve got to meet with a victims family,
“Cooper,” Hotch called, “You’ll be with me for this one.”
“Alrighty,” She smiled at him, “Consider me your shadow.”
Not that she was going to complain at all, especially not on her first field case, and especially not to follow around her handsome until chief. Even if she knew it was wrong to be harboring a slight crush, it didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the company… or the view.
At the apartment, Hotch and Val split off from Reid and Morgan, opting to take the stairs.
“So I gotta ask, Hotch, why are we taking the stairs when there is a perfectly good elevator in use? Not that I’m trying to complain or anything!”
“Stairs tend to be safer,” He started, “It also helps to scout out potential exit strategies an unsub could have used.”
“But this unsub didn’t take her from her apartment.”
“How do you know that for sure,” Hotch looked down at her from his two steps above, “We haven’t seen the apartment yet.”
“Well, no, I guess not…” Val trailed off, heat trailing up her neck.
“Cooper, I agree with you,” Hotch reassured, stepping back down to match her step, “I want to know what makes you say that.”
“Oh,” She laughed sheepishly, “Well, we could see the skin on Jenny from the pictures and the autopsy didn’t report any defensive wounds or any signs of a struggle, really. I don’t really think a twenty-seven year old woman living on her own isn't naive enough to let a stranger into her apartment willingly, and wouldn’t go forcibly without a fight, I know I wouldn’t. If he tried to take her from her apartment, and needed to have an ‘exit-strategy,’ shouldn’t there be signs of a struggle on her body? DNA under her nails, or something? Or it shows that he had to have known her well enough for her to open the door to him.”
“Exactly,” Hotch nodded, resuming the walk up the stairs, nearing the top.
“But if you knew that already, why take the stairs?”
Hotch turned around to look at her, hand on the push of the door.
“Truthfully, muscle memory, and the elevator looked too small.” Val stifled a giggle as they walked out, until they heard the elevator alarm, and sped up to the elevator, just in time to see the doors open and Derek mutter a small “Hallelujah”, walking suspiciously non-cholantly out of the elevator, and Spencer staggering out after him.
“Was that the alarm,” Hotch looked at Spencer, “You guys ok?”
Spencer hesitated before answering shakily, “I’ll get back to you on that.”
The giggles Val was stifling turned into full blown laughter now, unable to hold it in.
“Did you guys get stuck in the elevator,” She managed to wheeze through the laughs, “No way that happened to you guys!”
“We were perfectly calm, pretty girl, don’t you even worry,” Derek slung an arm around her shoulder.
“You were totally panicking,” She dissolved into another fit of giggles again, watching Derek scowl, giving away the real truth.
Hotch forced himself not to stare at her, bent over her knees from laughing so hard. Forced his face to stay neutral. Forced himself to straighten his spine.
“Agents” he called, forcing his voice to stay still, instead giving in and laughing with her.
She had the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard.
“Let’s try to stay professional at the crime scene,” He looked at Val, who immediately stopped laughing and straightened out. He tried to ignore the red flooding her cheeks, and the fact that he was the cause of it. Tried to ignore that he interrupted a moment of bliss when they were so rare in this field.
“Sorry, Sir.” She glanced down at her shoes, “I-It won’t happen again.”
He nodded, approaching the apartment, where the landlord met them.
“FBI was already here 2 days ago. Didn’t find anything.”
“We’re with the Behavior Analysis Unit” Hotch interrupted, flashing his badge and entering through the door, gesturing for the others to follow.
“The place has a lived-in feel to it,” Spencer muttered.
Which in Spencer Reid, meant the place was a mess. Plates and glasses and boxes everywhere. Shelves overflowing with books and trinkets, clothes scattered about.
“It looks like she spent most of her free time here,” Hotch responded, taking note of the clutter.
“Hey, guys!” Derek called from the bathroom, “Come take a look at this, the shower is full of boxes.”
“She must have used it as more storage,” Hotch said, “Did anything ever strike you as odd, about Jenny?” He asked the landlord.
“She wouldn't use the elevator,” He said, “Only used the stairs.”
“Claustrophobia,” Val said, “She must not’ve liked small spaces.”
“She was new to the city too,” Reid said, “Would’ve made her an easy target for our unsub, one email and no one would suspect a thing.”
“Good,” Hotch nodded, “Let’s head back to the station, see if Emily or JJ have made any progress on victimology.”
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Back at the precinct, the team gathered the deputies to discuss a working profile. JJ had set up a whiteboard of all the places someone new to the Portland area may go to become established.
“The only thing right now that links the victims is being new to the city, and the cause of death being some kind of torture,” Emily stated from her seat on the desk.
“But we do believe there’s another element to the victims to link them together, something they have in common with each other," Val looked over at Emily, who nodded in approval.
“We know he was forced to find a new grave sight, causing a new M.O” Derek started.
“Which won’t be easy for someone who thrives on control,” Hotch finished, “He’s been meticulous from start to finish of the crime, choosing victims, covering his tracks, cause of death, and burial."
“The victims lack signs of sexual assault,” Reid leaned against the wall, hand gripping his messenger bag, “This most likely means he’s not trying to show power, rather overcompensating for a lack of.”
“He most likely craves stability and control from a weakness or insecurity-”
“Meaning he’s likely married, with a stable career, and may even have children. He would probably be considered ‘successful,’ by societal norms” Val finished for Emily again, gaining a little confidence with each small reassuring smile Emily gives her.
“The lack of defensive wounds means that likely victims willingly give up control, most likely an authority figure or someone trusted.”
“He’s calculating, and intelligent.” Hotch started, “Meaning we have to do something unexpected.”
“Like what?” The deputy asked, taking notes.
“Like warn any potential victims,” Val finished, glancing at Hotch before back to the sheriff, nodding in finality.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
“We just found Patrick Walter dead in the river,” Morgan’s voice came through static-y over the phone. JJ, Reid, and Hotch were gathered in the conference room of the precinct, going over files of previously, never-solved, deaths, and reviewing victimology once again.
“It was exactly as you predicted,” Prentiss came through, “He found a new place to dump the body.”
“We’ve got fire, hanging, asphyxiation, and now drowning.” Hotch stood up, looking at the board of victims.
“What if it’s fear?” Val asked tentatively, “We think Jenny Whitman was claustrophobic, right? So she died from asphyxiation, in some kind of small space, maybe?”
“And this is a fear of drowning…” Reid started, trailing off for a second, “All the causes of deaths are anxiety disorders, right out of the DSM, the five subtypes,” Reid pointed at Val, “Claustrophobia,” he counted on his fingers, “Aquaphobia, pyrophobia, the hanging could be acrophobia, or fear of heights."
“So it’s fear based,” Hotch looked closer at the board, “Or being killed by their fears.” He glanced over to Val, who was perched on the desk, feet dangling, “Nice catch, Cooper.”
She tried to ignore the heat climbing up her neck and ears and mumbled out a quick ‘thanks’ looking quickly to the floor.
“I want us to split up, visit places we know our victims frequented, see if we can find anything in common,” Hotch spoke into the phone, “Morgan and Prentiss, meet Reid at the laundromat near Patrick’s apartment and take a look around,” He turned to Val, “Cooper, you’re with me.”
Reid nodded and left the room, JJ following him, mentioning touching base with the Sheriff, leaving Hotch and Val.
“You said that you were around the same age as Jenny?” Hotch asked.
“Close, yeah. And I live on my own so I guess I can kinda relate to her, why?”
“You just move to a new city, no friends, no job yet, no school, what’s the first place you go to?”
Val thought for a moment before answering, “I’d find the coffee shop. Barista’s are always friendly and tend to know a lot of people. And I’d want coffee.”
Hotch looked at the map Reid had used to start a geographical profile, Val joining him, “It looks like Jenny’s apartment is a block away from three coffee shops, Starbucks included-”
“Not Starbucks,” Val interrupted, Hotch turning and raising a brow at her, “Sorry, it’s just, a new town and there’s local around, I’m picking local. It’ll have more personality so I can know the town better.” She pointed at another coffee shop, called ‘Our Spot,’ “That one. That’s the one I choose.”
Hotch nodded and grabbed his jacket, grabbing her pink cardigan to hand to her, “I’ll drive.”
A/N: I'm still trying to work out how exactly I want to write the cases, because obvi they need to be there but I don't know how much detail I want to include in them. But this case is split into two because I was only halfway through the episode at this point and at about 3k and thought it may be a little long, but if you guys would rather them be longer let me know!
Part 2 of this ep should be out in the next day or so though so slayyyy
Lastly, I have a taglist now! To be added either comment you'd like to be added or like my masterlist and I'll auto add you :)
Tag list: @emmaroseup @diana-pedroza18 @elsyageorgia
(I really hope I did that right, and if you've been added on accident lmk so I can fix it!)
I already did Spencer and I wanted to draw more of the squad in that style (I'll draw more of the other main characters soon,,,, Just did the usual 7 first. I'm just one person after all, huhu)
I'm planning to make these as stickers or even acrylic charms for myself :D
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
yippee! yay!! more momoaira but this time for pocky day!!!
tri's momoaira pocky day art activated my neurons lmao so you get 2k of uhh whatever this is. at the time of writing this it is three am and i really should go to sleep, however, i will not
