002.
Jay stood outside the BAU headquarters, the towering building casting a shadow over him as he stared at the badge in his hand. The cold metal felt heavy, like a weight he hadn’t expected. FBI. It was official now. He was no longer just a detective in the Intelligence Unit of the Chicago Police Department. This was the next step in his career, but it also felt like a leap into the unknown.
He had seen the worst of the worst in Chicago—dealt with gang members, drug dealers, and murderers—but this, this was different. This was the Behavioral Analysis Unit, a place where minds twisted into knots and people who were already broken came to be dissected. It wasn’t the same as chasing down criminals on the streets. Here, the enemies were invisible, and the stakes were always higher.
Taking a deep breath, Jay walked up the steps to the entrance. He pushed open the heavy door, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he moved through the building. Agents were scattered around, working at their desks, some on the phone, others typing furiously. But his eyes were drawn to the small group gathered around a table in the middle of the room.
Alba Rodrigo stood at the head of the table, her posture straight, her expression unreadable. She was a woman who commanded attention without saying a word. Her reputation had reached him long before he’d ever set foot in this building. Cold, methodical, and unflinchingly tough, Alba was the kind of agent who didn’t tolerate mistakes—and certainly didn’t tolerate weakness. She was the type to leave a trail of bodies behind her in the pursuit of justice, and Jay wasn’t sure if that made her terrifying or admirable.
Even though Aaron Hotchner was the unit chief, it was clear from the moment Jay stepped into the room that Alba was the one in charge. Hotch might have the title, but it was Alba’s name that everyone respected—and feared. He’d heard the rumors about her—how she didn’t play by the rules, how she didn’t care about protocols if they got in the way of solving the case. He was about to see it for himself.
As Jay approached the table, he caught the eye of Spencer Reid, who was sitting off to the side, his face buried in a case file. Spencer’s eyes flicked up, studying him with that intense curiosity that Jay had already come to expect.
“You must be Jay,” Spencer said, his voice calm, almost detached, as if he were reciting a line from a book. “Alba’s told us a lot about you.”
Jay stopped for a moment, then extended his hand, but then quickly retracted it, remembering the odd thing he’d heard about Spencer’s aversion to physical contact.
“I’m Jay Halstead,” he said, trying to mask his awkwardness. “Nice to meet you.”
Spencer smiled politely, but didn’t move to shake his hand. “I don’t shake hands,” he explained. “Studies show that handshakes spread more germs than a kiss. I prefer to avoid unnecessary contact.”
Jay blinked, caught off guard by the strange statement. “Well, I’m all for avoiding germs,” he said, forcing a chuckle.
“Good,” Spencer replied, his smile widening. “You’ll fit in just fine here.”
Jay chuckled again, but his mind was already elsewhere. He turned his attention to the others in the room. Derek Morgan, the muscle of the team, was leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, giving Jay a respectful nod. JJ, the team’s communications liaison, gave him a warm smile, her eyes kind but assessing. But it was Hotch who caught his attention next. The unit chief was standing at the back of the room, arms folded, his sharp eyes trained on Jay, evaluating him like a predator sizing up its prey.
And then there was Alba. She stood by the window, her back to the room, her posture rigid. She hadn’t moved since Jay had walked in, as if she were lost in thought, but Jay could feel her presence. It was a weight, a force. He had a sense that if he made one wrong move, one misstep, she’d cut him down without a second thought. The others might be warm, but Alba was cold—like a glacier that didn’t care who it crushed in its path.
Finally, Alba turned, her eyes locking with his. Her gaze was sharp, like a blade. “You’re late,” she said, her voice low and icy.
Jay straightened, meeting her gaze without flinching. “I was getting the lay of the land,” he replied, trying to keep his tone steady. “But I’m here now.”
Alba’s lips curled into a slight, almost imperceptible smirk. “Good. We don’t have time for pleasantries. We’ve got a case to work on.”
She didn’t wait for a response, immediately turning to the table where the case files were spread out. The rest of the team followed her lead, gathering around the table. Jay joined them, taking a seat across from her. The tension in the room was palpable, like a storm ready to break. Jay couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking into a minefield, and Alba was the one holding the detonator.
The case they were discussing was a brutal one—murders that at first seemed unrelated, but as they dug deeper, it became clear that there was something darker tying them together. Jay listened carefully as the team threw out theories, each one more twisted than the last. But it was Alba who led the conversation, her voice cold and steady as she guided them through the evidence.
She didn’t ask for opinions. She didn’t make small talk. Every word she spoke was deliberate, calculated. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries or unnecessary details. She simply got to the point, and it was clear to everyone in the room that she was the one calling the shots.
Jay watched her closely, trying to get a sense of who she was beneath the cold exterior. She was a woman who didn’t just follow the rules—she bent them, broke them, and made her own.
“Jay,” she said suddenly, her voice cutting through the conversation like a knife. “You’ve worked in Intelligence. Tell us what you think.”
Jay was caught off guard. He had expected her to continue leading the discussion, not turn the spotlight on him. But he wasn’t about to back down. He leaned forward, his eyes scanning the case file in front of him. He had seen patterns like this before, patterns that didn’t make sense at first but became clear once you connected the dots.
“Whoever’s behind this is meticulous,” he said, his voice steady. “They’re not sloppy. They’re picking their victims carefully, and they’re leaving just enough evidence to make it look like a random killing spree. But there’s a pattern. I think they’re sending a message.”
Alba’s eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, Jay thought he had said something wrong. But then she nodded, her lips curling into a small smile. “Good. Keep that in mind as we move forward. We’ll need all of you to think outside the box.”
The rest of the team fell into a tense silence as they continued discussing the case, but Jay couldn’t shake the feeling that Alba was watching him, evaluating him with every word he spoke. She wasn’t just testing his knowledge; she was testing his resolve.
Jay couldn’t help but feel the difference. Back in Chicago, he’d worked with detectives who played by the book, but here, there was no book. Alba was the law, and the rest of them were just trying to keep up.
And Jay knew that if he wanted to survive here, if he wanted to prove himself, he would have to keep up with her every step of the way.
The next few days were a blur of files, phone calls, and late nights spent analyzing the evidence. Jay had settled into the rhythm of the BAU, though he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was constantly being tested by Alba. She had a way of pushing him to his limits without ever showing a hint of approval. It was clear that she wasn’t interested in making him feel comfortable. She wanted results.
The team was gathered around the table again, the case files spread out before them like a puzzle that had yet to be solved. Jay sat across from Alba, watching as she flipped through the pages with the same cold, calculated precision she always displayed. Her sharp eyes scanned each detail, her mind already working to connect the dots that everyone else was missing.
“Nothing’s adding up,” Hotch said, rubbing his temples as he looked over the case notes. “We’re missing something, but we don’t know what.”
Alba’s gaze flicked to him, her expression unreadable. “It’s not about what we’re missing,” she replied, her voice as cold as ever. “It’s about what we’re overlooking.”
Jay frowned, trying to make sense of her words. He had been in the field long enough to know that sometimes the answers were right in front of you, but you had to look at the bigger picture to see them. But Alba... she was different. She didn’t just look at the surface. She dug deeper, into the dark recesses of the case, the things most people were too afraid to confront.
“We need to think like the unsub,” she continued, her voice low but commanding. “Why are they choosing these victims? What’s the connection?”
Jay leaned forward, his eyes scanning the case notes again. The victims were all seemingly unrelated—different ages, different backgrounds, different locations. But there had to be something that tied them together.
“We’re missing the common denominator,” he said, his voice firm. “Maybe It’s not about the victims themselves. It’s about the locations. They’re all places where the victims felt safe—homes, schools, even hospitals."
Alba’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something—approval, maybe—passing through them. “Interesting,” she murmured, her gaze still fixed on him. “You’re on the right track. Keep going.”
Jay felt a surge of adrenaline. For the first time since joining the BAU, he felt like he was starting to get a glimpse of the mind behind the cases. Alba’s approval, though rare, was something he wanted more than anything. But he couldn’t let that distract him. He had a job to do.
“We need to dig deeper into the victims’ backgrounds,” he said, his mind racing. “There’s got to be something in their past that connects them. Maybe they’ve all been victims of something before. Maybe the unsub is targeting them for a reason they don’t even know.”
Alba nodded slowly, her expression still unreadable. “I’ll assign the team to dig into their pasts,” she said, her voice steady. “But we’re running out of time. We need to catch this unsub before they strike again.”
The room fell silent as everyone absorbed the gravity of her words. Jay could feel the weight of the case pressing down on him, but he wasn’t about to back down. He had worked too hard to get here, and he wasn’t going to let Alba or anyone else doubt him.
As the team split up to follow their leads, Jay found himself working closely with Spencer Reid. The younger agent had a mind like no other, his knowledge of psychology and behavior patterns far beyond anyone Jay had worked with before. But there was something about Spencer that made Jay uneasy—his quirks, his social awkwardness, his tendency to overthink everything. It wasn’t that Jay didn’t respect Spencer’s intelligence; it was just... different.
They were in the archives, going through old case files when Spencer suddenly stopped, his finger hovering over a particular file.
“Wait,” Spencer said, his voice sharp with realization. “This is it.”
Jay leaned over, glancing at the file Spencer had pulled. It was a case from years ago—another set of murders with eerily similar patterns. The victims were different, but the locations were the same. Homes, schools, hospitals.
“This is the link,” Spencer muttered, his eyes wide with excitement. “We’ve seen this before. The unsub is targeting places where people are supposed to feel safe, like you said.”
Jay nodded, his mind racing. “But why? What’s the connection?”
Before Spencer could answer, Alba appeared in the doorway, her presence as commanding as ever. She didn’t need to say anything—her sharp gaze was enough to make both of them stop talking.
“Did you find something?” she asked, her voice cold but tinged with a hint of urgency.
Spencer quickly explained the connection between the two sets of murders, his words tumbling out in a rush. Alba listened intently, her expression still unreadable. When he finished, she took a moment to absorb the information, her eyes flicking between Spencer and Jay.
“This could be the break we need,” she said finally, her voice low but firm. “But we need to move fast. The unsub is getting bolder. We can’t afford to make mistakes.”
Jay felt the weight of her words settle over him. This wasn’t just another case. This was something bigger, something darker. And Alba was right—there was no room for mistakes.
As the team gathered to plan their next move, Jay couldn’t help but feel a surge of determination. He wasn’t just here to follow orders. He was here to prove himself, to show that he could keep up with Alba’s ruthless, cold efficiency.
But more than that, he was here to catch the unsub. To stop the killing.
And he would do whatever it took to make that happen.
The team spent the next day poring over the case files. The tension in the air was palpable, and even Jay, who had seen his fair share of high-stakes investigations, couldn’t shake the sense of urgency hanging over them. There was something about this case—something that felt different. It wasn’t just about catching a killer; it was about understanding the twisted mind behind the murders.
“We’re missing something,” Jay said, leaning forward. “We know that the victims don’t seem to have any clear connection to each other, other than these locations. But what if that’s the point? What if the unsub is targeting spaces, not people?”
Alba, who had been silent up until now, shot him a quick glance. Her eyes were cold, calculating. She didn’t give praise easily, but Jay could see the flicker of approval in her gaze. “Go on,” she urged, her tone clipped.
“The unsub isn’t just targeting individuals,” Jay continued. “They’re targeting the concept of safety. Homes are supposed to be a sanctuary, schools a place of learning, hospitals a place of healing. The unsub is attacking the very idea of safety and security.”
Alba considered his words for a moment, her expression unreadable. “That’s an interesting angle,” she said, her voice as cold as ever. “But we still don’t know why. What’s the motivation?”
Spencer, who had been quietly analyzing the case files, suddenly spoke up. “What if the unsub is targeting people who have been forced to relive their trauma in the public eye?” he suggested, his voice full of quiet certainty. “Each of the victims was either a witness or a victim in a highly publicized case. Maybe the unsub is punishing them for the exposure.”
Jay’s heart skipped a beat as the pieces started to fall into place. The victims weren’t just random. They had been thrust into the spotlight, forced to face their darkest moments in front of the world. And now, the unsub was making them pay for it.
“That’s it,” Jay said, his voice low but firm. “The unsub is targeting people who have been exposed—people who had no choice but to relive their worst moments in front of the public. It’s a form of revenge.”
Alba nodded slowly, her gaze sharp. “This is personal,” she said, her voice colder than ever. “The unsub isn’t just killing for power. They’re sending a message. They want the world to feel what they’ve felt.”
Jay felt a chill run down his spine. The unsub wasn’t just a killer—they were a victim too. And that made them all the more dangerous.
Hotch stood up, his face grim. “We need to find the connection between the victims. We need to dig deeper into their pasts. There’s something we’re missing.”
As the team split up to follow their leads, Jay couldn’t shake the feeling that they were getting closer to something much darker than they had anticipated. The unsub wasn’t just a random murderer—they were someone who had been broken by the world and was now seeking revenge in the only way they knew how.
The hours that followed were a blur of phone calls, interviews, and endless hours of research. The team had dug deep into the victims’ backgrounds, uncovering painful truths about their pasts. Each one had been a victim of some form of trauma—abuse, neglect, violence. But it was the public nature of their suffering that seemed to tie them all together. They had been forced to share their pain with the world, and now the unsub was making them pay for it.
The team’s breakthrough came when they uncovered a series of old case files—murders with eerily similar patterns. The locations were the same: homes, schools, hospitals. But this time, the victims weren’t just random—they were all people who had been thrust into the spotlight at some point in their lives. Witnesses in high-profile cases, survivors of public tragedies, people who had been forced to relive their trauma for the world to see.
“This is it,” Spencer said, his voice filled with excitement. “The unsub is targeting people who’ve been publicly exposed. They’re punishing them for the world seeing their pain.”
Jay’s heart raced as the pieces clicked into place. The unsub wasn’t just killing for the sake of killing. They were targeting people who had been forced to live with the consequences of their trauma in the public eye. They were punishing them for the world’s voyeurism.
“We need to find them before they strike again,” Hotch said, his voice tight with urgency. “We don’t have much time.”
The team’s investigation led them to an abandoned house on the outskirts of town—a place that had been empty for years, but which now seemed to be the unsub’s hiding place. The walls were covered in newspaper clippings, photographs, and articles about the victims. It was clear that the unsub had been following their every move, obsessed with their suffering.
“This is it,” Jay said, his voice steady as he looked at the house. “We’ve found them.”
Alba’s voice came through his earpiece, her tone as cold as ever. “Stay sharp. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
Jay nodded, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon. He wasn’t about to let the unsub slip away—not this time.
The team moved through the house cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the empty rooms. The air was thick with tension, the silence broken only by the distant hum of traffic. As they reached the basement door, Jay’s pulse quickened. He could feel the presence of the unsub—like a shadow lurking just beyond the door.
With a nod from Alba, the team burst into the basement, weapons drawn. The unsub was waiting for them, standing in the center of the room, their face twisted in a mix of anger and satisfaction.
“You’ve found me,” the unsub said, their voice cold and hollow. “But it’s too late. You’ll never stop me.”
The team spread out, their weapons trained on the unsub. Jay’s heart was pounding in his chest as he moved closer, his eyes fixed on the figure in front of him. There was something unsettling about the unsub’s calm demeanor—like they had already won, even before the team had arrived.
“I’m not here to kill you,” the unsub continued, their voice growing colder. “I’m here to make you feel what I’ve felt. The world watches us, judges us, and then moves on. But I won’t let them forget.”
Jay’s grip tightened on his weapon, but he knew better than to act rashly. This was a dangerous game, and the unsub was clearly unstable.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jay said, his voice steady but firm. “We can help you.”
The unsub laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Help me? You think you can fix this? You think you can fix what’s been broken for so long?”
Before Jay could respond, the unsub lunged forward, knocking over a pile of boxes. The team sprang into action, but it was clear that the unsub was ready for a fight. In the chaos that followed, Jay’s mind raced. He had seen this kind of desperation before—people pushed to the edge, driven by pain and anger.
With one swift movement, Jay tackled the unsub to the ground, pinning them down. The team quickly moved in, restraining the unsub and placing them in handcuffs. The danger had passed, but the weight of the case still lingered in the air.
As they led the unsub out of the house, Jay felt a sense of grim satisfaction. The case was over. The unsub was in custody. But the victory felt hollow. This wasn’t just a killer—they were a victim, too, someone who had been broken by the world and had sought revenge in the only way they knew how.
Alba’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Good work, everyone,” she said, her tone still as cold as ever.
Jay nodded as he watched as the team worked seamlessly, wrapping up the scene, taking notes, and coordinating with local authorities. But there was a sense of relief in the air—this was over. The unsub was in custody, and the team had done their job.
As Jay stood off to the side, trying to collect his thoughts, he saw Hotch and Alba talking quietly, their voices low but intense. The tension between them was palpable. Hotch gave a curt nod, then walked off to join the rest of the team. Alba, as always, remained stoic, her eyes scanning the scene with a sharp, calculating gaze.
Jay knew she was hard to impress. He had seen it from the start. She wasn’t the type to offer praise freely. But as he stood there, watching the team wrap things up, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done enough to prove himself.
Just as he was about to turn and walk away, a voice broke through his thoughts.
“You did good,” Spencer Reid said, walking up to him with a small but genuine smile on his face.
Jay raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by the compliment. Spencer was known for his brilliance, but also for his tendency to be blunt. For him to offer this kind of feedback was a rare thing.
“I know Alba won’t say it,” Spencer continued, his voice soft but sincere. “But for your first case with the team, you handled yourself well. You kept your head in the game, and you didn’t let the pressure get to you.”
Jay nodded, feeling a small sense of pride. He had worked hard to get to this point, and while Alba might not have acknowledged it, hearing it from Spencer meant something.
“Thanks, Reid,” Jay said, his voice low but grateful. “I appreciate that.”
Spencer gave a small nod. “You’re welcome, Halstead. Don’t let her cold exterior fool you. She notices more than she lets on.”
Jay chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As Spencer walked away, Jay glanced over at Alba one more time. She was still standing with her arms crossed, her gaze intense as she surveyed the scene. He could tell she was deep in thought, analyzing every detail. But there was something about the way she carried herself—something that made Jay respect her, even if she didn’t offer him the praise he might have hoped for.
In the end, it didn’t matter. He knew he had done his job. And that was enough.
With a deep breath, Jay turned and walked back to the team, ready for whatever came next. The case might have been over, but his journey with this team was just beginning.
___________
Wtf. 4k words? Who possessed me lol? It's like 2am, I reread it only once. Don't judge, people. Alba’s...... Alba? You'll like her, I think? And sorry for making Hotch like that 😭
Also, new book cover? Do we like it?
xoxo,
Mar.