Psychopathy

Chapter 72- Back To Work, Please?

Isabel stood at the door, watching the snow come down. During her time in hell, she'd only managed to make it snow one time. She'd almost forgotten what it looked like. What it felt like. What it smelled like. Her team had often teased her when she claimed to be able to smell snow, but she'd proved herself right every time. And now, she was ready to go outside. She was tired of blurry memories- she wanted to feel the snow herself.

She wrapped herself in a coat and opened the door, stepping onto the balcony. She closed the door behind her, wanting to keep most of the heat inside. She looked up at the dark sky, only seeing the snow when she looked into the light. She breathed out slowly, watching her breath fog and crystallize. She smiled softly, enjoying the first snowfall of the season. She was broken out of her thoughts by a soft gasp from the balcony next door.

"Wow! Look at this!" the little girl exclaimed, giggling excitedly. She stuck her tongue out, catching some of the flakes on it. She stuck her arms out and spun in a circle, causing Isabel to laugh. Oh, how heartwarming it was to see the excitement in a child's eyes. The little girl looked over and saw Isabel, waving excitedly. "Do you see the snow? Do you see it?"

"I see the snow. It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, and the girl nodded.

"Yeah! It is!" she responded, before pouting slightly. "I don't want to go to school tomorrow. I just want to stay home and play in the snow."

"Well, that does sound fun. But school is important, too. We all need our routines. And when you're done, you can come home and play in the snow. Kind of like a reward," Isabel said, and the little girl looked up and nodded. She looked up at the sky before her head whipped towards her door. From inside, Isabel could hear a voice calling to the child to supper. She tilted her head slightly. That voice sounded familiar.

But before she could place it, the child ran inside and Isabel was left thinking about what she had said. Routine was important. School for children, and work for most adults. Isabel needed her routine, and she had one that she hadn't yet gone back to. She wasn't sure if they would even let her go back, but she was going to try. It was time to return to as normal a life as she could. Starting tomorrow. For now, she was just going to enjoy the snow.

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Ciara stood on the landing, catching her breath. It had been a long trek up six flights of stairs, and by that point, she was regretting leaving that damn pimp cane at home. While she didn't find it terribly appropriate to walk into an FBI building with a pimp cane, she certainly needed it right now. Part of her wondered if it would have been easier to take the elevator, but she'd rather deal with the exhaustion of climbing six flights of stairs than the panic attack that would come from the elevators.

In Before, she hadn't considered herself claustrophobic. If anything, she considered herself enoclophobic- afraid of crowds. Crowded spaces didn't bother her so much, until that space was filled with people. But things were different in After. She was different. The last time she'd been on an elevator, she'd nearly panicked. Only Reid's presence and his constant reassurance that she was safe had prevented it.

But maybe she wasn't exactly claustrophobic. It wasn't cramped spaces that bothered her, per se. She could be in her small closet and be just fine. What bothered her was having no escape route. She could be in a spacious room, but if she didn't see a way to get out, she started to panic. When she couldn't find an exit, the walls seemed to close in around her. Sometimes it felt like she was back in the box under the floor of the van. And sometimes it felt like she was in the kennel.

So she bypassed the elevator and climbed six flights of stairs. And now she was on her floor, out of breath and covered in sweat. She should have taken her coat off, she knew that. But she'd had no place to put it, and she wasn't about to tie it around her waist and show off her strange proportions. It really seemed that all of the weight she was gaining was going straight to her stomach, even if she was still constantly constipated and throwing up anything that wasn't liquid.