Chapter Text
1.
Spencer Reid had been through a lot to get here. Gideon helped with a ton of it but not everything can be solved by a founding father of the BAU. Gideon couldn't help that Spencer had a family history of mental illness, or that he had not one athletic bone in his body. Suffice to say that Spencer was extremely excited when Hotch had told them about what would be his first traveling case. Among things Gideon couldn't help was that Spencer didn't know what was in store. Some things just had to be experienced in Jason's opinion, as unpleasant as it may be.
"Garcia, catch us up to speed." Hotch ordered.
"Sir yes sir! You, my lovely crime fighting friends, are headed to Oklahoma. Home of the… nothing. Home of the absolutely nothing."
"The point, miss Garcia?" Gideon drawled, checking the clock.
"Yes, right. We have three murders - hello federal jurisdiction - grabbed from their homes and dumped on the local park benches to look like sleeping homeless people."
"Pretty brazen." JJ commented. "Do we have COD on the victims?"
"So far they've all been given a cocktail of illegal substances, supposedly to induce overdose." Garcia reported.
Spencer decided it might be best to stay quiet for the back and forth. Being the new one to the team meant he didn't quite know where he fit yet. He listened intently enough to catch that he'd be going to the station with Gideon, but trying to stifle his movements meant that he was all wound up and ready to spin like a top the second he got some alone time.
The precinct wasn't much help with this. Too much energy going in and nowhere to get it out. As usual, this meant the extra energy came out of his mouth, partnered with a side of raptor arms that could usually be played off as a typical thinking pose.
"So you're saying this guy gets off on the fact that nobody knows the person laying on the bench is dead?" An officer asked, having overheard Spencer talking aloud when he came in to offer a fresh pot of coffee.
"Actually what we were theorizing is that he feels as if nobody notices his pain and thus the body on th-"
"Kid," The officer cuts him off. "If I wanted a rant from a child I'd go home and listen to my daughter talk about ponies. And a word of advice - know your place. You've been getting on everyone's nerves all day with the tapping and the humming and the encyclopedia shit ya' got goin' on. Tone it down, bet the FBI draws the line at children who can't hold their tongues and act like morons."
Spencer was speechless. With that, the officer turned on his heel and left.