Under Control

Isabeau slept restlessly. It wasn't like in the hospital where the morphine was abundant and put her to sleep like the comfort of falling asleep in a lover's arms. The pain killers helped with the pain but didn't silence or blind her mind enough to stop the nightmares. She wouldn't have felt so bad if she hadn't woken up screaming multiple times throughout the evening – also waking Spencer every time she did.

When she woke around four-thirty the following morning, he was already awake and sitting at the kitchen table. Isabeau had been able to pull herself from this nightmare before the screaming began; she called for Spencer from the bedroom.

"Are you all right? Another nightmare?"

Isabeau nodded. "Didn't get too far this time, though. I managed to wake myself up before screaming bloody murder this time. Sorry about all of that, by the way."

"It's all right," he assured her. "I never sleep much anyway."

She sat up, and he helped her into the wheelchair. She wheeled herself to the kitchen table while he prepared a cup of coffee for her. Files and papers were spread over the whole table; Isabeau swallowed hard.

"Are these the other girls?" she inquired.

Spencer turned from the cup of coffee. "Oh, yes, they are. You probably shouldn't look at those." He quickly gathered everything up and put the files in a stack across the table from her.

"Dr. Reid –"

"Spencer," he corrected.

"Spencer," Isabeau repeated. "There's no more damage those pictures can do than what I already lived. I was a step away from the fate those girls met. Besides, with my psychology background, maybe there's something I could do to help. It could be, you know, therapeutic for me."

"First of all, you were more than a step away from their fate. You don't need to see what you missed out on. As for the psychological viewpoint, I'd welcome it. You do have a firsthand experience with this UnSub."

"So what do you know so far?"

Spencer set the cup of coffee in front of her, then got to work on fixing himself a second cup. "He picked up all of the girls outside of that bar. Two of them were seen by friends getting into the cab, one was by herself completely."

"Two," Isabeau spoke up. "I was by myself. My friends wanted to stay later but I left early."

Perhaps it was something about her tone. "What made you decide to leave early?"

"How possible is it that my reason for leaving early is irrelevant?"

Spencer pursed his lips and sat down with his coffee, taking a small sip. He studied her face carefully, not missing any details. The pink of the blush that tinged her cheeks opened her up to a vulnerability that he found charming, in a subtle sort of way. The way her eyes refused to meet his made him curious in a way that exceeded any professional curiosity. And, perhaps his favorite detail of the moment, the way Isabeau nibbled at her bottom lip made him realize just how kissable those lips actually were. Normally under control of any emotions of this sort, Spencer had to wonder where these thoughts came from – well, half of him wondered. The other half was rejoicing for his photographic memory.

"Any detail, no matter how irrelevant it may seem, could be helpful," Spencer answered her. "You may not think it matters but it could be the one thing that triggers this guy to do the things he does."

Isabeau took a deep breath. "Look, don't judge me, all right? Ben and I broke up after I moved out here, but we knew we had just moved things too fast. We were both young … anyway, we stayed friends and we stayed close. Every now and then we see each other – privately."

She looked anywhere but at him. Isabeau didn't want to know what Spencer thought of her sleeping with a man with whom she didn't have anything more than a platonic relationship. Ben had always been her security – well, until she'd been kidnapped. Then that had changed to the man sitting with her at that table. Just another sign that what she felt was nothing more than a neural reaction to what she had experienced and who had been there when she escaped.

"He was safe," Spencer finally said after a short period of silence. "That's why you kept going back to him. You were young when you met him, and that initial strong feeling was probably more of a physical attraction than actual heartfelt emotion. Even though you broke up, your relationship stayed platonic and amicable, and that physical attraction was still there. You're out here where you don't have much family beyond your friends, so you still register Ben the same as when you first met him, even if it is at a less intense level."

Her mouth hung slightly agape. "You're really not judging me, are you?"

"There's nothing to judge, Isabeau," Spencer assured her with a slight smile. "And it does help. If these other girls were also connecting with old boyfriends or, honestly, just sleeping around, it could have been a trigger for the UnSub."

"He looked to be around our age, and in this area he may have a military background, even if he doesn't look like it anymore. Probably been unstable all his life, but either hid it well or just lived a life that was conducive to reining in any manic tendencies. Something happened that broke that barrier – and there must be a girl involved, somehow."

"That's not bad," Spencer nodded, making a few notes.

Isabeau shrugged. "It just makes sense, really. The beating and the raping – he's got an affinity for domination. I love the Marine Corps, don't get me wrong, but they do produce some very dominant males. Just goes right along with the military history detail."

"Very possible." Spencer took a deep breath. "I know it isn't going to be easy, Isabeau, but do you think you could go over some details of your attacks with me? If you're not comfortable, it's fine, but –"

"Any detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem, could be helpful," she finished, paraphrasing his words from earlier. "I'll try but I can't promise anything, Spencer. I've never gone through anything like this in my life."

"I know you haven't. I promise you, though, whenever you want to stop, no matter how short or long the conversation, it'll be done, until you're ready to talk about it again."

"Even if that's never?"

"Even if that's never," he promised. "Ready?"

Isabeau closed her eyes and took a deep breath. All it took was for her eyes to close long enough to blink to bring back the horrid images of that bastard on top of her or looking down at her beaten frame on the floor. She was never going to be able to do this from her own point of view.

"This is going to seem crazy, but if I tell this in first person, I'll never be able to do it. Recounting all of it happening to me is too much. If I tell you like it was happening to someone else –"

"You'll get through it easier," Spencer finished. "I understand. Whatever it takes."

Another deep breath, and she began. "Ben called her just after midnight. She didn't want her friends to know what was going on, so she made excuses about a headache and went outside to wait for a cab …"



The sun was up by the time she was finished. Between the details that poured out of her like lava from a volcano and the questions Reid had for her as she told the story, a couple of hours passed before they got to the end. Nearly four weeks left them with a lot of information to cover.

"I need to get all of this information to the BAU," Spencer told her, gathering his notes. "My laptop is in the other room. I'll email a report over to them and have them call me when they go over it."

Isabeau nodded and took a sip of cold coffee. Sighing, she rolled the chair into the small living room where Spencer now sat on the same couch he'd slept on, laptop perched on his knees and fingers frantically typing as he read through his notes.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Spencer didn't even look up from what he was doing. "Sure."

"Was there a missing person report for me?"

His typing slowed and then stopped. He had hoped that she wouldn't ask that but should have known she would eventually wonder. He didn't have to be on expert on the fairer sex to know that most women wanted mostly just to be cared for.

"It's just that," she continued, "I was gone for almost a month. I don't expect my parents to say anything. They live halfway across the country and it isn't entirely unusual for us to go a few weeks without talking. But my friends here, they should have known I was missing. I never showed up at Ben's – he should have known I was missing."

Spencer put the laptop on the coffee table and set aside his notes. "Besides your few speeding tickets over the years, no one in law enforcement had heard of you until you showed up at my door."

Her eyes closed slowly and her breathing was measured. All the years she had lived in the Quantico area … all the friends she thought she had kept over the years … even Ben was a fake. None of them cared about her. She suddenly felt like that girl who doesn't belong but can't catch a hint.

"Isabeau …"

"It's all right, Spencer. I should have known better than to ask something like that. And I probably should have seen through all those people a long time ago. Especially Ben. I mean, I can help profile a guy who kidnapped me who I barely know but people I've known for years – I completely missed what I really meant to them. I should have known better than to think they cared enough to report if I didn't show up for a few weeks."

She wheeled herself to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. It wasn't graceful, but she managed to get from the wheelchair back into the bed. She hugged the extra pillow on the bed and pulled the covers over her head.

"I care about what happens to you."

Wiping her tears – tears that thoroughly embarrassed her – she came out from under the blanket and rolled to her other side so she was facing the door – and the handsome genius standing just inside the room.

"I mean, I know I'm not family or friends. I know I've only known you for a few days, but I care about what happens to you. I want to make sure we catch this guy so that he can't do this to another girl, and you're my motivation for that. I didn't know you before any of this, but if you went missing for even a few hours, I'd report it and I'd come looking for you."

"You would?" Isabeau sniffled.

Spencer nodded. "Yeah, I would. I mean, right now this is about the case, but I don't see why couldn't continue a professional relationship in the future. We can always use an extra expert on cases – especially with your PTSD expertise."

Isabeau closed her eyes. She was disappointed that he had started off with such a wonderfully charming speech, but she had read far more into it than what was necessary. Of course he only meant it to comfort her; he wasn't a victim developing an irrational attachment to a rescuer.

"Thanks, Spencer. I'm just going to try and get some rest."

"Let me know if you need anything."

She gave him as much of a smile as she could manage and rolled to her other side. It was comforting to know he was there, even if their thoughts weren't exactly on the same wavelength.



Derek Morgan finished reading the email from Spencer; more than just a few things had jumped out at him. He picked up his desk phone and dialed Penelope Garcia.

"You've reached the desk of the omniscient goddess, Penelope Garcia. What does your heart desire?" she greeted in a sultry tone.

He smiled. "Only you, baby girl."

"Oh, if only," Garcia replied, her tone going from sultry to teasing. "I'm guessing you're calling about Reid's email."

"You guessed right," Derek confirmed. "See if you can get me a list of males recently discharged from military in the Quantico area. If you can mark the ones who are divorced or separated, I'd be eternally grateful."

"If I can? Honey, lose your doubts. It's just going to take a little bit, but I'll send the list over to you ASAP."

"Thanks, beautiful." Derek hung up the phone and rubbed his hands over his eyes.

"Doing all right?" Emily asked. "You look stressed."

"Just want to catch this guy before he gets someone else."

"It may be too late for that," Hotch announced, dropping a file on the desk. "Local police found the body of another girl around the same age in an alleyway. ME says she was beaten and sexually assaulted. Cause of death was strangulation. Last place she was seen was picking up a cab outside that same bar."

"So it's our guy," Emily sighed. "I'll let Garcia know; she can try and connect this girl to the others."

"Also, have her find out if the other girls were dating anyone or seeing them on the side. Reid thinks there may be a trigger in that," Hotch added.



Reid got off the phone and sighed. Another girl. This guy had gotten another girl before they found him. The only clues they had were still the DNA and the MO. Keeping Isabeau's disappearance and eventual escape from the media wasn't helping at all. Reid couldn't figure out why; it didn't seem fitting that a dominant, unstable male would let a victim go without a fight.

How was he going to tell Isabeau that another girl had been found? She was heartbroken when she found out that no one had reported her, and Spencer couldn't blame her. It wasn't fair at all. The way she talked about her parents – although she had excused them – and her friends and even Ben – they should have been calling the police department without stopping until she was found. He knew Isabeau would have done the same for any of them.

Maybe he had gone too far though, letting her know how worried he would be if she ever came up missing. It was the truth. More and more her well-being was growing important to him but he didn't want Isabeau to think he was being inappropriate or coming on to her. He had crossed a line with Lila Archer and he couldn't let that happen again.

He did find it ironic though that instead of the pretty actress in Los Angeles, it was a beautiful psychologist just a room away breaking down his resistance to emotion.