[CM] THE CASE

Life cannot bloom brilliant flowers from lies. - Heine

He felt happy, very subtle happiness.It's like a child who looks up at the starry sky all day has a chance to get a "star fragment", even if his parents pick it up from the side of the road to coax people, they are happy.

Immediately afterwards, someone approached him from behind, threw him to the ground, and grabbed his neck.He fell on the soft but cold carpet, his limbs twitching in bewilderment, trying to push away those hands and hug himself.But no, he is too weak.

The pain blocked his senses, and he suddenly fell from the comfort of happiness into the abyss of pain. Fear blocked his ears, and he couldn't hear anything...

No, he can hear it.

"Gr...Griffith?"

Griffith's eyes snapped open, and Gideon, who was waiting beside him, let go of his hand and let out a slow breath.

Still just the two of them, Gideon asked him calmly, "What do you know?"

Griffith was in a trance, and it took him a long time to reply: "She...they feel happy, the kind of...happy they were looking forward to. I can't say, anyway, I trust the murderer, I guess..."

"He seems trustworthy and speaks well?"

"……almost."

Gideon patted him: "Okay, let's go, it's time for us to go to work."

Griffith nodded.He is becoming more and more used to this level of hallucinations. Before, he might need a glass of water as a buffer, but now he doesn't.

The progress has to be called remarkable.

When the news of Naomi Dade's disappearance reached the ears of the police and BAU, Reverend Williams, the aggrieved African-American social activist was holding a baseball bat in front of the camera to incite public anger.

JJ was exhausted and used all kinds of methods to appease this sensitive lunatic, and he didn't come to the bureau to check in with Hotch for work in the morning.

Gideon made a decisive decision: "We need to release the test and write as soon as possible."

African-American, 16 years old, loves to sing... Naomi Dade perfectly fits the description of the victim, and the current temporary "missing" is likely to rise to "killed".

Inspector Ware's heart twitched violently.

Hotch glanced at him and said with relief, "There is a gap of a few days between the disappearance and the murder of each victim. Naomi Dade disappeared last night, and we still have time."

JJ who was running outside was called back urgently. When Griffith met her, she seemed to be at ease.

"So you're done?"

"Almost." JJ took a sip of coffee, "I have a few acquaintances, and the number of TV broadcasts has been reduced as much as possible. I am communicating with him, trying to persuade him to make fewer speeches."

Griffith was speechless, feeling that every inch of the United States had their press officer acquaintances.

"It's time to prepare for the test, right? Every time we have to do this kind of work to turn the tide." Morgan clinked glasses with her, drank a strong coffee, "We should propose a salary increase."

"Think about your private plane and poor executive's wallet." JJ shrugged. "Think about Christmas break—get to work."

With the officers assembled in the office, Griffith found a delicate position as usual, and he seemed to have a knack for reducing presence.It's a pity that Reid took the lead this time and gave him an innocent look.

Although Griffith is no longer a rookie who is nervous on stage for the first time, the habits of many years cannot be changed.Facing Reid who was pretending to be deaf and dumb, he had no choice but to sit next to Reid.

The writing test has started.

"We believe the suspect is a black male, aged between 25 and [-]," Hotch began. "The black male's conclusion comes from his victims, and the murderer's targets in sexual murders are almost always his own race."

"The victims were good kids, top students, no conduct issues, what we call low-risk groups," Morgan said.

"And the lower the risk group, the higher the intelligence of the perpetrator," Emily added.

Griffith continued: "This guy is articulate, it makes people feel very relaxed, and it is easy to gain confidence from him. You will be surprised how well he can speak."

Reid said: "Jeffrey Dahmer was once stopped by the traffic police for driving across the center line. At that time, there were many garbage bags filled with the victim's remains in the back seat of his car, but he acted calmly and confidently, persuading the police not to check..." He There was an unnatural pause, the feeling of vomiting began to attack the city all the way from the stomach, the scene in front of his eyes was blurred - damn, why did it happen at this time?

He pressed his trembling body, and said methodically: "He escaped successfully, and then killed at least fifteen victims."

The police officers who had just smiled disapprovingly at Griffith's words shut up.

"He's a liar, maybe not very educated, but he knows how to deal with sensitive teenage girls," Gideon said. "Victor Paleologus used to pretend to be a filmmaker and hunt targets in shopping malls."

Reid calmly withdrew his hand that was shaking like Parkinson's, and quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

However, he was only half relieved, the hand that was not in the pocket was cut off by the road, and the remaining half of his breath was raised urgently, which almost didn't suffocate him to death.

Griffith felt his tangled pulse and cold sweat on his hands, and the instinct of a doctor quickly piled up Reid's recent abnormalities before his eyes: moodiness, insomnia...it was a withdrawal reaction.

The words "morphinone" and "ecstasy" in the closing report made Griffith's heart shudder—is that so?

It turned out that besides the shock, besides the beating, had he also endured this kind of treatment?

How could he... how dare he keep silent?

In the next test, Griffith didn't hear a single punctuation mark, and his whole body followed Reid's every move up and down, as if he was the one who was forced to take drugs.

One of Reid's hands was gripped tightly by Griffith, and he couldn't free himself, so he had to endure the nausea and dizziness awkwardly.By the time this was over, Hotch had disbanded Publishing and was busy arguing with the mayor.

While no one noticed the two of them, Griffith dragged Reid, who was still wet from sweat, into the toilet, and unlocked it.

Gideon's seemingly unintentional eyes rested on the door panel, but quickly looked back.

Griffith checked to make sure that no one was hiding in the toilet in such a tense situation, and then hesitated to his colleagues who hadn't calmed down: "I...uh, that, that..."

Reid's eyes flicked over indifferently, and Griffith decisively forgot the words - although he didn't have any words in the first place.It suddenly occurred to him that Americans value privacy very much. Maybe Reid classified this matter as "privacy" and was very unwilling to be exposed.

Otherwise, whether it's Hotch or Gideon, how could those individual spirits not find out?Are they all blind?

But things had come to this, and Griffith pretended he didn't know anything, it would be too self-deprecating.Among other things, how should he explain the matter of him locking the toilet door?

All these entanglements are written on his face, and Reid can see his hesitating concern at a glance, the magnificence in his heart is divided into two, very rich - on the one hand, he is looking forward to Griffith's concern, on the other hand Annoyed at his cautiousness, a kind of displeasure at being underestimated.

He thought about it for a while, and felt that the two emotions were not good to put on his face, so he chose to keep his face expressionless, looking a little indifferent.

Under the indifference, Griffith bit the bullet and said: "I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault," Reid cut him off. "If that's what you're trying to say, then…"

"It's my fault I didn't find out sooner... I should have known, I'm a doctor," Griffith said softly, "If not, Reid, you need an apology."

Reid's jaw clenched - he really thought so.

When he was in a daze and didn't know whether his decision was correct, he couldn't help thinking, why didn't they come to save me?

His colleagues and friends must be working hard, but why are they so slow?

What if he couldn't afford to wait?

"What's more... Besides, I'm your friend. If you need it, I should help you. There is an old saying in China, it's called 'two ribs and one knife'. I'm still not used to keeping a distance," Griffith said as if giving up. Shrugging, raised his head and smiled brightly, "So please be tolerant."

Reid felt his heartbeat surge again.

In Maslow's "Hierarchy of Needs Theory", social needs are at the third level, including love, friendship, and a sense of belonging.And Reid, unfortunately, was probably the only subject he failed.

He's used to building walls around him, and Griffith was the first person to try to get through it, the one Reid had hoped for for so long.

Why are you here so late?

Griffith said awkwardly, "If you hate it, you can tell me specifically, I don't want to offend you. I…"

"You didn't offend me, on the contrary, I appreciate it." Reid laughed. "I need your help, Foster, very much."

There was joy in Griffith's eyes.

"I'm sometimes irrational, so you have to take care of me." Reid said, "Please take care of me."

He was facing the scourge.The empathy of the victim tortures him all the time, and the withdrawal reaction consumes his energy. He worries that if this continues, what awaits him is destruction.

"I will," Griffith said. "Just trust me."

Reid gave him a deep look.

"I believe."

The author has something to say: Regarding the withdrawal reaction, different drugs have different withdrawal reactions.I probably picked the common symptoms, I don’t guarantee the correctness, just read it ^_^