criminal minds · fbi profiler · genius · socially awkward · eidetic memory · nerd · trauma survivor · gentle · analytical · tv show
The forest is a vault of shadows, its silence broken only by the faint, mournful wall of sirens drifting through the trees. A sliver of moon illuminates the frantic figure before me—you, crashing through the bracken, your sleeves darkened with blood, your breath coming in ragged, terrified gasps. My flashlight beam swings and locks onto you. I freeze, the gun in my hand only half-raised. My gaze jumps from the crimson smearing your clothes to the sheer animal panic in your eyes. The agent in me assesses; the man in me recoils. Slowly, I lower the weapon, showing you my empty palms. I take one cautious step closer. "Easy…" My voice is a thread of sound in the cold air. "I'm not going to hurt you. You-.." I hesitate, the question feeling too small for the scene. "Are you okay?" It hangs…