Well, hello there! I am here bringing you a new story! This idea has been floating around in my head for quite some time now, and I've finally decided to put it on 'paper' ;)
Also, I am aware my story, Devil's Eye is still unfinished. I have lost all motivation to continue that story as of now, and will not be writing for it in the near future. I hope to continue it some day, as I hate leaving it unfinished, but it is just not going to happen right now. Writing it has become more of a chore than pleasure, and I've made the decision to put it on hold. Please, just bear with me.
Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this story, I'm very excited for it! I've got a lot planned!
WARNINGS: Dark themes, violence, mild language
- I will put an extra warning on chapters if I believe it's necessary
Disclaimer: Our wonderful crime fighters are not mine
Set in season late 5/early 6
Please leave reviews after reading…they really help motivate me to write! I feed off of them !
Chapter 1 : The Escape
…
The nausea was the first thing to register in his state of partial consciousness, along with the pounding of his head. It felt as if someone was banging a hammer on the inside of his skull. No, maybe more like a sledge hammer.
"Morgan." A voice hissed through the haze, bringing him to open his heavy eyelids. He squinted as he took in his surroundings. He noted the cement walls and concluded they were in a cellar or basement of some sort.
"Morgan! Look at me!" She hissed again.
Derek forced his eyes to look at the brunette sitting across from him, then noticing the second figure to her left. Without realizing he was cuffed, he attempted to stand up, but was forced to remain seated.
"What the hell?" He grumbled.
"You don't remember?" The slender man to her left asked.
Just before he answered that he had no clue, his brain retrieved the memory.
The three of them had been driving back to the Washington police station after interviewing a witness from their current case. Brunette women were being brutally killed after enduring twenty four hours of sadistic torture and abuse. They'd only been called in the day before, but a witness had come forward and informed them that she'd seen a suspicious man hanging out on her street, where the latest was abducted from. Hotch had sent Reid, Morgan and Prentiss to check it out while he and Dave worked victimology at the station. Towards the middle of the hour-long drive back, Derek recalled the headlights of a truck barreling towards them. Bits and pieces of crunching metal and screams broke through his memory, but then it went blank.
"Was it our unsub?" He asked, breathlessly. If it was their unsub, he feared that would mean Prentiss was in the most immediate danger. He hadn't said anything earlier, but now he wished he had. She met the killer's type down to the bone.
"I don't think so," She said, "our guy is organized, patient. He wouldn't risk abducting three FBI agents. It's too risky for him."
Reid nodded in agreement. He'd read through the victim's reports and the timeline of their unsub. He stalked his victims for days, learning everything he possibly could about their daily routines before he struck. He was sophisticated, patient. He wasn't responsible.
Derek blinked back the biting headache. "How long was I out for?"
"We're not sure." Emily responded, looking at Reid.
"I woke up first, then Prentiss. You woke up five and a half minutes after her."
Derek nodded, letting his head lean back against the wall. "Are you guys okay?"
"Nothing a nice, warm hot tub can't fix." Emily quipped as she winced when her sore muscles protested the movement.
Derek raised an eyebrow and held a smirk on his face. "You've got a second date?"
Prentiss chuckled. "You only wish you were invited."
Morgan shifted his weight onto his bottom, placing his feet out in front of him. "How about this," he cleared his throat, "if—"
"When." Reid said, a hint of determination in his voice.
Derek glanced over to the young man, nodding to acknowledge the uncertainty. The genius sat with his legs crossed, head hung fairly low and seemed to be in deep thought. "When we get out of here, I get to get a peak at this hot tub of yours."
Emily snickered again. "No way, José. That's for my eyes only."
Before Derek could respond, Reid spoke up, startling him. "Emily, do you have a bobby pin?"
She stared at him, confusion laced in her eyes, but she still dug into her pockets for the trusted pin that typically resided in her pant leg pocket. Retrieving it, she handed it to the young genius. "You think it can get us outta here?"
"I think I can pick the cuff lock with it."
Ten minutes later and after many grunts of frustration, Reid had himself freed. He stood up and quickly began working on Emily's restraints.
"Hey, kid, I don't mean to rush you, but hurry. We don't know when our guy will show up."
Reid shrugged off Morgan, focusing solely on the pin and small lock of Emily's cuffs. In only seven minutes, he concluded, Emily's hands were free of the grey metal. Reid hurried over to the last set of cuffs and got to work. He applauded himself when the cuffs fell limply away from Derek's hands after only five minutes.
"Practice makes perfect." He commented, earning a smile from Prentiss and a pat on his shoulder from Morgan.
"Good work, kid." He said, removing his hand from the younger man's shoulder, "Now we just need a way out."
Without warning, the door swung open. What was revealed, was the last thing any of them would've expected.
"Wh…How?" A young man, maybe twenty six, stuttered as he stood still in the doorway.
Reid held up the pin, a small smile of success grew on his face. An uncomfortable silence took over the room as the agents struggled to come up with a plan, as their 'captor' seemed to be harmless. That was until he pulled out a gun.
"Don't move."
Prentiss held up her hands, which the two men followed. "We don't want any trouble."
"Then…why are you out of your restraints?" He asked, the confidence building in his unsteady voice.
Prentiss shot a glance to Morgan, who nodded and she continued. "Okay, look?" She reached out her arms in front of her. "You can cuff us again. We didn't mean to upset you."
The man took a nervous look around the room at the two other men who were holding out their arms. "Okay…"
He began to walk towards Prentiss, and Derek sprung into action. He held the man in a head lock, effectively disarming him and Reid hurried to grab the gun. Only minutes later, the man went limp in Derek's arms and he set him on the floor, cuffing him to the set that previously held Reid.
"Let's go!" Derek called out as he began running up the stairs. The other two agents ran swiftly up the stairs behind him, stopping just as he did to grab their cell phones. They all cursed silently at the No Service message at the top corner of their screens. Derek looked around for a landline phone, coming up empty. The house was rather small, the kitchen and living room were practically combined and there was no upstairs.
"Maybe we can find his car keys?" Emily suggested.
Neither man could answer before rustling from the basement interrupted them.
"There's no time. If he has the hand cuff key, he'll be out in no time. We'll run until we get service." Morgan said, opening the back door to the dim lighting outside.
The three agents quickly made their way outside and began running through the dense trees. Thankfully, the sun was just beginning to rise, which gave them just enough light to see where they were going and to avoid tripping. Reid ran the calculations of how long they'd been in the basement through his head as he ran. They'd been on their way back around six thirty, then just before the truck crashed into them, it was six fifty-eight. It must be around four thirty in the morning since the sun is just above the ground.
Morgan, who'd been in the front, started slowing down and then came to a stop. Emily and Reid did the same, forming a small circle. Derek pulled out his phone and held it up towards the sky, as if that would make the reception magically appear.
"Anything?" Emily panted, unable to catch her breath. She slowly slid down the trunk of a tree to a seated position.
Morgan shook his head and closed the device forcefully. "Nothing."
"We should keep moving. He might know these woods better than we do." Reid said, antsy to get going again.
"Okay, then let's go." Derek said. "Taking a nap down there, princess?" He said with a smirk.
She glared up at him, her eyes shooting daggers into his. As she began to stand, it seemed as though the world was tipped sideways and her hand shot out to steady her. She grabbed onto the tree trunk, gripping it so hard her knuckles were white.
Derek was immediately at her side. "Hey, you okay?"
She blinked several times, trying to clear away the fogginess. "Yeah," she rubbed her eye, "yeah I'm fine. Just a little dizzy."
"Are you sure? You took most of the impact from the truck—"
"Reid. I'm fine. I haven't eaten much, my blood sugar is probably low." She straightened up, feeling the clarity return once again. "Can we continue before that freak catches up to us?"
Reid and Morgan exchanged anxious glances, unsure whether or not they should trust Prentiss' word that she was 'fine.' Reid knew she had been driving when the truck hit them, practically t-boning the car on her side. As they finally gave up and continued walking, the lists of possible injuries that would cause dizziness filtered through his mind.
Derek checked his cell phone for service every few minutes, groaning each time it came up empty. They'd slowed down their pace to a walk, as each of them had become exhausted. He kept his eyes on Prentiss, who had visibly slowed more than either of them. The two men had instinctively formed a barrier around their injured friend, even if she couldn't admit it yet. Periodically, he observed her squeeze her eyes shut and bring up her hand to her forehead, as if she was fighting off the headache. The headache in his own head had moved to the base of his neck, and had become much less severe. Frankly, he hadn't thought about his own headache since Emily's started. The pit in his stomach told him enough.
Abruptly, she stopped and the contents of her stomach were strewn across the forest ground.
"Emily!" Reid cried as he sprinted to her side, "tell me what's going on."
She shut her eyes again and brought her hand up to her mouth to wipe away the saliva. "I…my head is pounding."
"Why don't you sit down?" Reid suggested, taking her hand into his.
She shook her head, only to stop the action quickly as it caused the pounding of her head to increase. "No." She said, licking her lips. "No, we have to keep going."
"I'll wait here with you and Morgan can run ahead to get signal." Reid suggested, and Morgan nodded.
"We can't split up. We'll be like sitting ducks." She said. "I can go on."
When neither man said anything, she repeated it. Ultimately, none of them liked the idea of splitting up, and Derek decided to have Reid lead the way. The young genius was always good at the geographical aspect of their cases, and Derek wanted to be as far away from the woods as soon as possible.
Derek opted to walk next to Emily while Reid was several paces ahead of them, holding out his cell phone so that he'd know the exact second he got reception.
Emily's walk began to become staggered, like she struggled to walk in a straight line. It looked almost as if she'd had a few too many at dinner. "Emily?" He asked, "You okay?"
Instead of answering him, she briefly looked at him and gave him a loopy nod. His concern for her well-being was off the charts and he slowly decreased the distance between them until he was only centimeters apart from her.
"Anything Reid?"
Spencer checked the phone. "Nothing."
"The sun's coming up, they must be looking for us by now." Derek said, taking a look at the golden haze that was creating a beautiful blanket of sunlight over the trees.
"They don't know where we are…" Emily mumbled as she took an inept step over a small rock, stumbling forwards. Derek caught her quickly, just as Reid shot an extremely troubled look back at him and his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Derek waved at him, begging him to continue as he placed his arm around Emily's waist, acting as her stabilizer. She moved her now clouded eyes up towards him, giving him a silent thanks. He knew she was deteriorating if she wasn't complaining - never in his life had he thought he'd want to hear her complain or tease him so badly. Instead, she simply rested her heavy head on his shoulder and marched on.
How was it!? Should I continue? I am pretty dang invested in this story, so I hope you stick with me! Please leave reviews - you know writers feed off of them, right?