I HAD FORGOTTEN MY PHONE. That wouldn't normally be a big deal, but I have no way of checking in now. No way of counting the time I've spent here, and no way for anyone to get ahold of me. It also doesn't help that I still don't have my badge. Which proved to be a problem when I was trying to get into the building. I had no proof that I work here, and much-like the guards from yesterday, they refused to look me up in the system. Completely brushing me off as a stupid kid wasting their time trying to play a prank.

Which is how I found myself in my current situation- detained in one of the interrogation rooms at the FBI. What a great way to start out the day. Apparently the FBI docent take well to sarcasm, because talking back to them was what triggered the detainment. Well... I guess it didn't help that I was technically 'resisting arrest' struggling to get them away from me.

"I'm an agent- stop don't touch me! No! No! I'm an agent!"
"Sure you are kid, and I'm the President!"

President of your moms basement when I get you fired.

I may be able to talk them out of electing you the President of the bottom of the Potomac River. But I make zero promises.

The handcuffs dig into my skin painfully as I stare directly into the two way glass, fully aware of the eyes examining me on the other side. I raise my shackled wrist and wave at the glass, then I smile to myself. It's amusing to think of the people watching me worrying I can see them, even if it is only for a second.

I flinch as the door suddenly slams open, banging against the back wall roughly. A tall angry figure stalking into the room, his eyes immediately finding me.

"Sir-" One of the guards calls after Hotch, trying to force him out of the small interrogation room with a hand on his shoulder. A shaky breath of relief falls past my lips at his presence.

"Uncuff her." He orders the man. "That's an order from a supervisor, officer. Now uncuff her." His harsh stare and demanding tone makes the guard begrudgingly do so.

"Someone was trying to break into a government facility. We had reasons to believe that act was terroristic in nature." The guard try's to defend himself as he opened the cuffs with a click, relieving the harsh pain of the metal digging into my wrists.

"You had every chance to look her up." He stated, his voice strong and harsh. "Instead you arrest my agent under loose charges, and disrupt my team's entire morning. Time is of the essence in my line of work, how many lives do you think have been lost just so you can go off on a power trip?"

"We were quite literally only doing our job." The man who held me against the wall, ignoring my panicked hyperventilating and screaming.

"Your job? Your job?" I watch in genuine shock as Aaron corners the man, towering over him a full head in height. "Your job is not to use excessive force on a young woman half your size- especially when the situation would have been resolved with a two minute phone call. Instead you physically harm my agent, ignoring her anxiety attack as you drag her down here, you waste nearly an hour of her valuable time, and now mine." His words like shards of glass, making the guard flinch. "Your supervisor will be hearing from me. Come along Dr. Cypher."

The mans eyes fall to the ground, and his lips press together. It's obvious he has nothing to say to defend his actions. I follow after him our of the room, waving slightly at the guard who's still stood against the far wall.

"Thank you." I mutter to Aaron after we get into the elevator, pulling the sleeves of my jacket back down over my angry red wrists.

"We really need to get you a badge."

"Yeah." Strauss says since my placement here was so rushed, they haven't had the time to get one for me yet.

"...how many lives do you think have been lost just so you can go off on a power trip?"

"Did people really die?" I ask.

"Huh?"

"You asked him 'how many lives do you think have been lost'" I start, his hard expression softening slightly. "Did people really die?"

"We don't currently have a case." His lips turn up in a ghost of a smile. "But he doesn't need to know that."

And at that, I find myself breaking into a wide grin as I follow him off the elevator. The majority of the team is already in the bullpen, chatting and sipping coffee before the workday. Hotch holds the door open for me, and I thank him before we go our separate ways.

"Mornin' whats with the smile, sunshine?" Derek is the first person I see as we enter the office. He is leaning against my desk with a smirk his arms crossed over his chest. Not even knowing him for twenty four hours, I already like his funny and flirtatious in nature.

"Nothing." I wave him off, tugging my sleeves down over my hands. "Just had a bit of a crazy morning."

"Ooo yours too?" Penelope comes bouncing over, a sparkly pink cup in one hand and a muffin in the other. "My neighbors new cat got out, and found her way into my apartment through my window, I had to chase that kitten for an hour! I was almost late! What happened in your morning?"

I glance over at Aaron, who is on his way to his office. "I got detained."

"You what?" They both gasp, staring at me as if I had grown an extra head.

"I- uh- don't have my badge yet. I've asked Strauss about getting a temporary one, she assured me she would get it to me, but that has yet to happen. One of the guards felt threatened. He had something to prove to himself." I explain shortly, trying to stop my brows from creasing in pain at the memory of their rough hands gripping me. "I'm okay though. Hotch heard about it, and proved I wasn't trying to blow up the building."

"Awe my poor little cupcake!" Garcia frowned, actual concern sparking in her eyes.

I just give her a smile, trying to reassure her that I'm okay as I continue to rub my sore wrists. Even from under my long sleeves I can tell they are red and bruised after being in cuffs that have been clasped hand numbingly tight.

I shouldn't have fought back, maybe they wouldn't have been so rough.

"Good morning. Wait- What happened?" Spencer asks as he pauses on his way to his desk which just happens to be diagonally across from mine. His eyes narrow at my wrists, and his brows furrow upwards in worry. "Are... are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm okay. It's not a big deal." I breathe as he turns away and frantically begins going through his shoulder bag. If I had just grabbed my phone from the hotel like I was supposed too none of this would be happening, I wouldn't be under the microscope and today could continue on as normal.

"One of the bastards out front cuffed her this morning." Derek explains, a slight growl to his voice as he rolls his eyes.

"They wha-why? Why would.. why would they do that?" He asks, and I take a breath preparing to explain m myself for the third time this morning. But thankfully I don't get a chance too.

"Come on everyone!" Aaron projects as he comes out of his office, a stack of papers in his hand. "I found some paperwork that needs to be corrected, Jureu, Prentiss, and Morgan." They groan, but immediately make their way over and take the paperwork that was incorrectly done, no doubt due to the tiredness that came with the late hour.

"Here." Spencer appears next to me, quickly muttering an apology as I flinch in surprise.

"Whats this?" I ask as he sets a small jar on my desk.

"I have some ointment that will help your skin." He looks down. "I... I mean you don't have to take it. It was just in- I-I mean— I have a first aid kit in my bag. Just in case." He over explains in a hurried voice.

I smile as his cheeks tint in embarrassment. "Thank you, Spencer." Breath catching as I meet his dark eyes for a moment. Why does he have to be attractive and nice? Stop, stop, stop. We both quickly turn away, and I try to ignore the twisted feeling my stomach.

"Hey, sunshine!" Derek returns, tossing the folders on his desk. "Wanna help with some super important FBI business?"

"You want me to redo the paperwork for you?" I ask as I sit down in my chair, opening the small jar of ointment and rubbing it into the skin of my wrists.

"Whaaat?" He smirks "I would never."

"And that... Is where I do my best work."

"I thought paperwork was what you are best at." I tease as I try my best to hide a smile.

"Well if you're gonna be like that-"

"Okay, okay, I'm just joking. Hand them over." I laugh as I grab some pens. He obeys and leans against my desk. "Be thankful Rossi taught me how to correct this yesterday."

"I knew he would mess up." Rossi calls from across the bullpen, his voice small yet humorous. You could practically hear the smirk on his face.

There is a lot of errors. It's hard to believe the same man that explained to me how these things are done could have made so many mistakes. Thankfully they are small and easily rectified.

I glance up at the weight of eyes to see Spencer is staring intently our way, he must have been for a while. "You want in on this, pretty boy?" Morgan asks with a smirk before tossing some files on his direction. "There is more than enough to go around if you're jealous."

He haphazardly catches them, nearly knocking his mug of hot coffee off the table.

"You're ambidextrous?" He ignores Dereks remark.

"Oh," I glance at my hands, each holding a pen, each refilling out different documents. "Um... Yeah." I don't know what else to say. I still forget sometimes that it is considered weird amongst people. I clear my throat before shifting to put one of the pens back, sticking to one hand.

"No, no, no!" Spencer says hurriedly, his eyes wide. "That is really amazing! I'm.. I'm sorry... sorry." He turns away, beginning to work on some of the files.

I smile softly, as I pick up the pen and continue working with both hands. I'm glad he dosent think it is odd, although I feel bad now that he thinks he has to apologize.

Spencer and I finally manage to finish correcting the files when Penelope appears behind me. I yelp in surprise as she taps my shoulder. "Whoa, calm down sugar— I don't bite!" She throws her hands up. Giving me an award winning smile that makes me feel guilty about my reaction.

"Sorry." I breathe as I wrap my arms around myself, trying to calm my racing heart. "You scared me."

"I keep telling you we need to put a bell on her." Emily remarks in passing to Derek, who laughs and nods his head in agreement. Penelope rolled her eyes.

"I came to tell you all that Hotch needs us in the conference room. I think there is a new case."

"Thanks, babygirl." Derek exclaimed before telling me to follow him to the conference room so he can show me where it was. I didn't want to tell him, but it was pretty obvious where it is, the large room wasn't exactly hidden.

But I kept my mouth shut, and followed him regardless. Emily, JJ, Penelope and Spencer coming quickly behind us. When we enter, Rossi is already seated at a large round table. I wait by the wall as everyone takes a seat. I'm unsure if they have certain seats they always use so I let everyone sit first before taking the last empty seat by Emily and JJ.

"Caliente Nevada. Six murders have occurred over the course of twenty days." Penelope announces after firing up the projector, as I fumble with the case file in front of me. "Each victim found in the middle of a main road. Each with the same signature."

I glance up at the screen just as photos of the six victims pop up. Under them are photos from their crime scene. Each of them have their eyes gouged out.

"Odd." Spencer mumbles, his eyes bouncing between the victims. "He is just going after anyone? No specific target type?"

"Amelia Unic." Aaron takes over as a pale skinned brunette with dark eyes appear on the screen. "Age seventeen, Caucasian female. Last seen walking to her job at a local diner, her body was found two days later." The screen changes to an aging man with white, receding hair. "Olson Whitman. Caucasian male. Age sixty-three. Son dropped him off dinner around six in the evening, and his body was found the next morning. Florent Harden, African American male, Age twenty-four. Tourist, was last seen leaving his hotel room one morning, his body was discovered that evening." The screen changes with each name Hotch lists off. "Isabel Noore, Asian American female, age nineteen. Last seen leaving her boyfriends house, her body was found not an hour later. Montgomery Birch. African American male, age forty-one. Kissed his wife goodbye on his way to work one evening. His body found the next morning." He takes a deep breath as he comes to the latest victim. "Violetta Salamanca. Hispanic female, age twelve. Mother reported her missing after letting go of her hand at a super market. Her body was found a three hours later."

She was twelve years old. The latest victim was twelve years old.

"Cause of death?" Prentiss asks.

"Noor and Whitman were stabbed to death. Birch and Unic were bludgeoned. Salamanca was drowned. Harden was shot."

"Different killing methods." JJ notes.

"Any sign of sexual assault?" Rossi asks.

"None."

"This unsub is obviously very unpredictable." Morgan states. "He's killing anyone, however he can. They all are so different. Some residents, some tourists, old and young, different races. Even different methods of murder... it seems too random."

"Yes but the M.O. speaks for itself. They are definitely connected."

"So what links them?"

"Nothing." Emily sighs as she looks through a case file that Penelope handed her. "No previous connections, they all knew of each other being such a small town. But they have absolutely nothing in common."

"Thats not true." I murmur, causing everyone's attention to snap to my side of the table. "I mean... It... it's their eyes." I glance at the table and I can feel my face heating up from embarrassment.

"Well yeah. That's what we mean by his M.O." JJ starts slowly, instructing me like you would a child. "Each one has their eyes gouged out. But that doesn't necessarily link them. That is just this killers signature."

"That's... that's not what I mean."

"If you have something to add, Cypher, by all means enlighten us." Aaron encourages.

"How are their eyes the common factor?" Rossi try's to get me to elaborate asks after a few moments. "Some have blue, others brown, and hazle. Their eye shapes are different as well."

My chest tightens as I feel the weight of their eyes on me. I glance around at everyone, seeing if anyone else has made the connection. "T-There is a Japanese term. Sanpaku Gan."

Only Spencer's eyes widen in realization. "Of course! How did I not notice that? They all have it— that's the connection. Thats the connection!"

"San— what now?"

"It means 'three whites'." I explain moving the large white board so the victims images are projected onto it before beginning to circling the eyes of some of the victims. "It refers to eyes that have exposed white space either above or below the iris. When the upper sclera is visible, it is said to be an indication of mental imbalance. They are supposedly meant to be prominent in psychotics, murderers, and anyone sadistic." I finish circling they eyes and I turn around. "When below, it is said to represent physical imbalance within the person, they are meant to be prone to alcoholism, drug addiction, and foul play. It is a mark of a tragic destiny. Either way, it is believed that these people attract accidents and violence, or go searching for it themselves."

"Well that explains why he would gouge their eyes out." Morgan breathes out after a few moments of stunned silence.

"So you think someone is targeting them based on a Japanese folklore?" Rossi asks.

"Or someone is trying to fulfill it?" I respond with a slight shrug.

"Interesting." Spencer leans forward, getting a closer look at the parts of the eyes I circled. "All of them are below the iris. If it's really connected, the unsub may think he is doing the world a favor, or that they deserve it in one way or another."
••••

It will take us just under four hours to get to Nevada. I have occupied my time by listening to different audio books through my headphones. I've finished two already, and I'm starting to realize just how long plane rides really are. The plane is a lot bigger than I thought it would be, there is even a mini refrigerator. I check my phone- which I was able to get from the hotel when I went to grab my travel bag, for the time or any scolding responses for checking in so late.

"You know, Niki." Penelope approaches me and sits opposite of the table I'm at. "We never did get lunch!"

"'Or something.'" The corners of my lips tip in a smile as she giggled at my remark.

"Oh right!" Derek agrees before he gets up from his reclined position and comes over to us. "I think you owe us some quality 'get to know you' time."

"Better make it quick." Rossi chimes in. "We should be landing soon."

"Okay." I click my phone off and tuck it away in my pocket.

"Alright first question-" JJ starts as she moves to a seat closer to us. "What is your favorite color?" That is always the first question.

"Viridian."

"Vir- what?"

"Viridian. Green-blue pigment. It is composed more of green than blue." Spencer mumbled, his voice quiet and muffled by his hand which he used to prop up his head. "Specifically, it is a dark shade of spring green, so it is the color between green and teal. It is a hydrated chromium oxide, with dark in value. The color takes its name from the Latin viridis, meaning 'green'. The first recorded use of viridian as a color name in English was in the eighteen-sixties." He spills out this information without even a glance up from book that he has been intently reading up until now.

His voice was so low that I had to strain myself to hear it. And it seems I am the only one that made the effort to hear him.

"Green." I explain softly. I better not geek out, if they hadn't bothered to listen to Spencers explanation they sure as hell won't want to hear mine. "Its green."

"Favorite movie?" Derek asks.

"Oh. Too much noise gives me migraines. I don't really watch tv." This is met with shocked faces and disapproving comments.

"Favorite book?" I barley hear Spencer's question.

"'The Count of Monte Cristo' by Alexandre Dumas." I smile, causing him to look away quickly.

"If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?"

"Oo that's a hard one." I think for a moment. "Maybe Greece. Or Rome." Spencer has set down his book, and began quietly observing from his seat.

"Dogs or cats?" Trick question.

"Both." I smile, knowing either answer would start a war.

"Oooo I got one!" Garcia claps her hands together. "Worst first date." I can feel myself blushing as Derek laughs hysterically.

"Classic baby girl, classic."

"What? How are we supposed to get to know her quickly without asking the hard-hitting stuff?" She reply's coyly she waits for my response.

I haven't been on many dates. Sure I've thought people were attractive, but I've never had the time to pursue anything. The only time I thought I was in love, tuned out horribly. He never cared, that's how I learned about the manipulation tactic called 'love bombing'. That is the only serious relationship I've ever had. We never had 'dates' per se, and most interactions ended in angry words and teary eyes if I dare refuse to let them do the simplest thing like holding my hand. I would try so hard to appease him, make him treat me like he had when I first knew him.

Soon the lengths I had to go grew farther, and the reward I would get dwindled to nothing. He'd even become violent in the past few years.

"No, no you silly lil' thing I'm not being cruel, I'm just teaching you how the real world works."

My arms wrap around myself as my fingers fiddle with my phone.

I don't think the question is meant to really mean 'the worst'. They are expecting a cute, funny, maybe slightly irritating story. Not a trauma dump.

"One time, I was at a carnival. I only went because my roommate didn't want to go alone, and she promised she would bring someone for the friend of the guy she was seeing. I wasn't excited for it. But she dragged me out anyways. Long story short, I went home alone- covered in my blind dates vomit." I keep my eyes locked with Penelope's as I tell the lie.

Everyone gasps, and laughter quickly fills the cabin.

"What the hell did you do to him, kid?" Rossi asks with a chuckle.

"Let's give you something to be sorry about, babe."

"I- I don't know." I cringe, not at the faux story but in remembering something far darker.

"Was he at least cute?" JJ giggles as I shake my head. At one point I thought he was.

"Hotch introduced you as Doctor." Emily finally speaks up and I turn to her welcoming the topic change. "But you can't even get into bars. What could you possibly have majored in?" I don't think she meant it to sound as hostile as it came across.

I hate talking about my degrees, people either think I don't deserve them, or they never look at me the same way. Cue the questions wondering if I cheated, or slept my way to graduation.

"Linguistics, physiology, criminal psychology, neuroscience, osteology, literature, chemistry. And, Uh... Medical sciences." I lower my gaze to the table as I mutter off the list.

"Did you know," Spencer clears his throat and sits on the edge of his seat, his voice filling the silence before anyone else can. "Caliente Nevada was renamed in nineteen-O'one. It was named that because of the nearby hot springs. The population is just under nine hundred, but tourism generates hundreds more each year. Attractions include the Union Pacific Train and historic railroad cottages. Its actually-"

"No one cares!" Derek groans as he rubs his temples. "God, how on earth did you find out so much about the town we are going to? Did you look it up before or after we were given the case?"

I meet Spencer's eyes, and sign the words --thank you-- which in return he gives me a sad smile.

He could tell I was uncomfortable, so now he is being teased to take the attention off of me.

"We are about to land, everyone. The road looks rough." Aaron warns as he comes out of the cockpit where he was speaking to the Pilot.

We all nod, and begin to prepare ourselves for a bumpy landing.