- Character Bashing
- Discussion - Murder
- Crime Drama
Stiles got a kick out of Miss Penelope’s Magical Province every time he stepped into it. She had graciously accepted the role of a mentor when Supervisory Special Agent in Charge Aaron Hotchner had introduced them and informed her of his personal projects. And since she was very much a supporter of putting away the bad guys — especially the ones who tried to cheat the system — she was more than happy to help him shore up his skills, while also expanding the search parameters for their own files.
Stiles was in his element. Miss Penelope knew exactly what he meant when he babbled at her, she didn’t care about his flailing or his jumps from topic to topic. She dealt with death every day and kept plenty of sunshine around her to keep her spirits up, so Stiles doesn’t feel bad about giving her the parameters he used to track hunters on his own.
“All right Sweetie, while there’s hunting down the bad guys that way, you’re going to spill on everything you haven’t told me so far.” She said it so matter-of-factly that Stiles had to give himself a moment to catch up.
“Oh, yes. You really are. And not just to me, because really Stiles? You can’t think that in a room full of profilers you’re actually hiding your need to spill your guts. Or do you? Oh, you do! That’s so precious.” Garcia patted him on the head and then prodded him to proceed her into the bullpen where the rest of her cohorts were due to be. “Come along Minion, for you are mine to do with as I please.”
So Stiles went because Aaron did give him away to her to do with as she pleased.
Once Garcia had gathered (read: cajoled, batted her eyes at, manipulated) the rest of the Premier BAU team into the conference room and waited for them to be seated, she turned to her newly minted Minion and gave him the floor. Or threw him under the bus. It depended on your point of view.
“It’s all yours, cutie.”
“Why thank you, Miss Penelope, you’re too kind,” deadpanned Stiles with a little bow, eyeing the rest of the room’s confusion.
Hotch smirked in amusement, already aware of what his technical analyst was doing. Since the rest of the of them were going to be brought in on this eventually, he didn’t mind in the least. “Team, this is Stiles Stilinski –”
“It’s a nickname! Unpronounceable Polish first name,” Stiles interjected.
“– and he is here to assist us in what will be a fairly large case that at least spans the country, and certain areas abroad. For now, we will focus on any cases within the United States borders. International implications will be dealt with accordingly at a later date. Stiles has already started this on his own, but it was his searches that caught our attention. Some of us in the upper echelons are already aware of what he’s about to convey to us, so please don’t think of this as a practical joke.” The entire team was now focused on their leader. “We are being deadly serious. I can, in fact, prove everything to you. Mr. Stilinski here, can attest to some events that he has been witness to, and unfortunately, even a part of.
“He has been through too many horrific events in a very short span of time and this will be difficult enough for him to speak of. Please don’t make it harder by expressing any cynical or negative accusations. I promise you, again, this is not a joke.”
Once he was sure the message had sunk in with his subordinates, Hotch turned back to Stiles. “Stiles, this is my team: David Rossi, Kate Callahan, Dr. Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, and Derek Morgan.”
At Hotch’s nod, Stiles began his tale of werewolves, hunters, betrayal, and death. He could see Morgan and Callahan trying to hold back their protests, but as Stiles trudged on, they settled down. Maybe they could tell he wasn’t lying? Because he wasn’t leaving anything out. Not any detail. He spilled it all, every bit of Scott’s betrayals, his own fuck ups, the Argent fiascos and even the problems with his father. Reid looked very focused whilst he was taking notes, while Rossi seemed sad and resigned.
When Stiles reached the part about The Deadpool, everyone sort of woke up and leaned forward. Here was an outright hit list, and a list of hitmen to go with it. The outrage plain as day on their faces, that so many innocents were targeted, was a balm to Stiles’ soul.
“I had picked up my research again, looking for any deaths that may be related and then covered up by the Argent family once the whole Dead Pool thing was over with. And that’s when Agent Hotchner, you know, wandered into my home.”
“Wandered in, Aaron? Really?” Rossi asked, teasingly at his colleague while Stiles drank some water.
Penelope cooed over her little duckling, as he really did seem wrung out. All of the profilers could tell that the events were taking a deep emotional toll on him and that not one ounce of it was a falsehood, as much as they wanted it to be.
“I assume that we will be picking up the investigation into these serial murders; of the hunters against the packs?” Reid questioned. “The Hale family massacre can’t be the first time Ms. Argent committed such a crime considering how well it was orchestrated. Also, are there other families like theirs that operate in the same fashion? Are these mass deaths ones that we’ve already attributed to known family annihilators?”
Turning to Penelope, Reid began a whole new set of questions. “What search parameters are you using at the moment?”
“Hold up, Reid,” Aaron spoke up before the interrogation could continue. “Why don’t you all take a look at these case files, go over them, make some notes. Garcia will forward her data over — and anything Stiles has given her — to you so that you can go over that as well. We’ll meet back here in four hours to compare notes. Okay?”
Everyone agreed, and so the group broke up.
“C’mon son, you and I are going to go enjoy the best burger you’ve ever let grace your lips.” Rossi threw his arm around Stiles’ shoulders and led him from the room.
“Is this the kind of place that has curly fries? Because that’s totally a thing.”
Morgan huffed again, slapping another file to the desk and Callahan just couldn’t take it anymore.
“What, Derek? What is your problem?” She asked quietly. Reid looked up in interest as well from his desk.
“It’s just — I mean — this is — how can Hotch stand there and just tell us all this is real and that we just need to accept it? How are we supposed to believe that there may even be people in our agency that are going around committing what are essentially hate crimes and we didn’t even know it?”
“Okay, first of all, calm the hell down before you cause a scene. You know this needs to be kept quiet right now,” Kate warned. The last thing they needed to do was tip anyone off by accident. “Second, Hotch would never fuck around with something this serious and you know it. I know you don’t want to believe something this bad about one of our own, but you also know that it happens, otherwise there wouldn’t be an Internal Affairs department in the first place, Derek.”
Derek huffed again and sat back resigned. “I know, I know. It’s just — this is all pretty sickening. Entire families have been wiped out here, from three to four generations deep.”
“I’m seeing a distinct pattern, as well, in the methods of attack depending on the unsubs. I think we can start building profiles of which Families have committed which crimes, which methods they prefer. From there we can extrapolate also a geographical profile of areas they like to hunt in. As gruesome and horrifying as all this information is — my god, the sheer amount of it — it’s also very telling when put together like this.”
“Well, let’s hope a lot of people will at least be getting some closure and these serial killers who think they are doing “the right thing” will be put away,” Aaron chimed in, unnoticed from above where he was leaning on the railing. “I know it’s all very hard to digest, especially when it’s thrown at you all at once — and yes we can discuss it more at length in a more private setting another time — but right now we just don’t have that luxury. Finish going through what you have here and grab some food. We still have an hour before meeting up in the conference room again.”
Rossi and Stiles met back with the team in the conference room bringing along with them a new member, an Agent Ian Edgerton. Rossi had left Stiles in the dark whilst having lunch, only introducing him as Ian, saying that ‘It wasn’t a topic to discuss in a diner’. Stiles was almost vibrating with curiosity.
“Stiles, this is Agent Ian Edgerton. He is an excellent tracker and also knows quite a bit about the supernatural world,” Hotch explains. “Ian will be helping to coordinate from the field to track down some of the Hunters we’ll be identifying from these profiles.”
“Also, you’ll probably be seeing more of Ian later on as he tends to hang out with the LA FBI field teams quite a bit when he’s out that way.”
“What’s that have to do with me?” Stiles asked in confusion.
“Well, the undergraduate program that you’re being enrolled in, the one that caters to people like you that need specialized schedules? That’s at CalSci.”
“No way! That’s awesome. They have fantastic programs there, I was reading about some of the computer labs and experiments they have and they even have a supercomputer right there on the campus! And –”
Rossi put up a hand to halt the flow of excited babble. If he didn’t stop the flow now, there would be no getting a word in edgewise. although everyone was smiling in amusement, happy to see him excited and happy after the morning’s depressing topics. “Yes, well Ian will be checking in with you while you are there and he’ll introduce you to the team out there as well so you have some backup in case something goes wrong.”
Immediately, Stiles felt a weight lift from him. Maybe he really didn’t have to do it on his own anymore.
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