Supernatural: Fate or Luck Pt. 1
A/N: Hello, I'm back with another story, and this will be different since this is from Season 3 of Criminal Minds. This episode is actually called Lucky and the episode that comes after it, which is part 2, is called Penelope, and while I was watching both, I realized that this would making a perfect two-parter for my own work. Basically I high-jacked both episodes and I had some fun with them.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural or Criminal Minds; I just own the characters that I happen to create.
CHAPTER ONE: TEAM UP
"Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man."
Ecclesiastes 12:13
Florida State Hospital, 1988…
A storm was raging outside the walls of the institution while inside, it was fairly quiet save for the occasional mutterings from one of the patients, one of the male nurses patrolling the halls, and there was music coming from room 219.
It was the inhabitant of this room that was a current topic among several doctors gathered in a meeting. They were talking about the patient's impending release and one of them was objecting very strongly.
"We can't release him," a black man named Dr. Jim Lorenz objected, thumping the table with his fist, "he's a risk to everyone."
"He's responded to the medication," pointed out one of the other doctors, "and he's made progress."
Dr. Lorenz shook his head, disgusted. "Progress? In here he might've made progress, but out there…he'll play out these fantasies." And he held up a red book that he kept all of his thoughts and notes in.
"But he'll stay on the med-" another doctor began.
"He won't stay on the medication," Dr. Lorenz cut in. "He's gained 160 pounds since he went on those pills, and that'll change if he's released."
The head doctor, Dr. Nash, sighed, listening to the continued arguing, and then spoke up. "He's seventeen and state law requires that when he turns eighteen he must be released, and our hands are tied."
"It's not your hands I worry about," Dr. Lorenz said unhappily. 'God, protect us all from political fools, and protect the people out there, too.'
In room 219, the you man, who was very overweight, was organizing his books and was setting them in a neat row on a shelf above his desk when he heard a key turn in the lock.
A guard entered, checking that everything was in order. "Good news, kid," he informed him, "you'll be getting out soon, and just maybe you should change your name to Lucky." And the guard left.
The young man smiled to himself as quiet voices whispered in his mind and he looked at the ghoulish paintings on his walls. 'Perfect!'
Modern day
Quantico, VA…
Penelope Garcia entered her favorite coffee shop, where she was greet by the woman behind the counter, who immediately accepted her insulated cup and filled it with coffee. "Morning!"
Once she had her coffee and paid for it, Penelope turned to go when a great-looking guy began cursing at his laptop, which had the evil blue screen of death on it. "Trouble?"
The man sighed, frustrated. "My laptop just died on me, and three hours of work are gone."
"Let me guess," Penelope said. "You were so busy that you forgot to save regularly."
The man gave a sheepish smile. "Guilty as charged."
Penelope smiled. "I know a bit about computers, so if you want…"
"If you can fix it, I'll be impressed," said the man, stepping aside, so that she could have access.
Sitting down both her coffee and her purse, Penelope began typing. "Windows, typical that it would crash, and…viola!" after a few seconds, she'd fixed the laptop, and restored the documents, too. "There you go."
The man was impressed. "Wow, thanks." He smiled at her. "I'm James Colby Bolyer, friends call me Coby."
"Penelope Garcia," said Penelope, shaking his hand. "Friends call me Wonderful, or Garcia."
After exchanging phone numbers, Penelope arrived at the BAU in a happy daze and gave a vague "good morning" to Morgan, who was quick to pick up on the change.
"Pump your brakes," he ordered and she turned to face him. "What's with you, baby girl?"
Penelope flushed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Every morning I say "good morning, princess" and you respond with "oh, I'll show you a good morning, hot cheeks', but not today?"
"Oh, I hate it when you profile me," Penelope complained, fixing his collar, and then told him about the guy she'd met earlier. "So, what should I do?"
"You should trust your gut," Morgan advised, "and if you have to, blow him off."
Penelope didn't look sure about that advice, but JJ walked up to them. "Hey, JJ."
"Hey, Garcia," JJ responded, her arms full of folders. "Time for the briefing, and it's a bad one."
"How bad?" Morgan asked, dreading the answer.
"Florida."
"Bridgewater, Florida," JJ began once the team was gathered. "Abby Kelton, age 19, was found this morning in Alligator Alley by joggers just outside the town, and it's aptly named. Everything below the waist had been eaten." And on the screen were the remains of a red-haired young woman.
"Ah, the circle of life," David Rossi commented as JJ sat down.
Emily Prentiss grimaced. "Suddenly I don't feel so guilty about my alligator wallet."
"An alligator didn't cut off her fingers, cut her throat, or craved an inverted pentagram into her chest," Aaron Hotchner pointed out, passing around photos of the crime scene.
"The local authorities believe that these are signs that she was killed by a satanic cult," JJ informed them, reading from the report sent to her.
Rossi rolled his eyes. "Some things never change."
"Killer satanic cults don't exist," Emily pointed out. "They were debunked as a suburban myth." And she frowned when Rossi furrowed his eyebrows at her. "What?"
"Rossi's the one that debunked them," Reid announced and Rossi smiled.
Emily flushed. "Oh, right. Thanks."
"Or it could be something else altogether," Hotch said thoughtfully. "JJ?"
"I've already called the Winchesters and they'll meet us at the jet," JJ responded.
Rossi raised his eyebrows. "So, I'll finally meet the Winchesters?"
"Yes you will," JJ promised and then returned their attention to the case, realizing something. "So killer satanic cults don't exist, but satanic serial killers do?"
"Lasciate ogni speranza, ch'intrate," Rossi quoted as he gathered up his folder, stood, and left the room.
JJ stared after him, confused. "Well, thanks for clearing that up."
"It's from Dante's Inferno," Reid explained. "'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here'."
"Remind me again, why we're risking our necks by goin' to an airport near FBI headquarters?" Dean asked, uneasy since they didn't know the current location of Agent Henriksen and they had just been in New York, where they'd wiped out a vampire nest that was targeting truck drivers, and Dean had used the Colt on the leader, who'd tried to feed on Liz.
"We're goin' because JJ asked us to help with their new case," said Sam, flipping through the pictures that'd been emailed to them.
"Plus we'll get to meet David Rossi and see what he's really like," Liz added, leaning between her brothers. "And maybe get an idea of why he came out of retirement." When JJ called to have them help with the case, she'd told them that Gideon's position on the team had been given to David Rossi, who had been retired for the past ten years, and had also been one of the founding members of the first BAU team.
Dean sighed. "Yeah, yeah, but I wish we didn't have to fly though."
"Same here," Liz agreed as they drove up to the gate, flashed their badges to the guard, and then drove through.
After parking the Impala in the long-term space reserved for them, thanks to both Hotch and Penelope, and grabbing their bags, they headed for the jet.
"Sam, Dean, Liz!"
"Hey, guys."
After exchanging handshakes and a few hugs, Hotch introduced Rossi, who was watching them with mild interest. "Guys, this is David Rossi; Dave, these are the Winchesters, Dean, Liz, and Sam."
"Hey."
"Hi."
"Hi."
"It's an honor to finally meet you all," Rossi said, shaking their hands. "Hotch told me what you do for a living, and I look forward to see whether our unsub is human or not."
This surprised the Winchesters since they knew that the team hadn't been that open with Emily at first.
"You've been told everything?" Sam asked, surprised since Rossi's emotions were, surprisingly, calm and not negative in the slightest.
"I insisted," Rossi responded, noting that Hotch was flushing slightly, and was checking his watch. "But we can talk about it later."
Once the jet was in the air, Sam did his "Jedi trick" to calm his siblings down, and Reid had shown off a bit by easily quoting from one of Rossi's books, they worked on the profile.
"Witches do use the pentagram, but they typically don't do something like this," Liz remarked, tapping the picture. "Demons on the other hand…"
"Which means our unsub may be possessed," Morgan suggested, and "and has nothin' to do with religion at all."
Rossi raised his eyebrows at the silent jab, but didn't push the issue…for now. "Assumin' that the unsub is possess, then how do we prove it?"
"Well, there's several ways," Sam explained. "Sayin' Christo will get a negative reaction. Holy water on the skin and havin' them drink it, too. Have 'em touch salt, and/or poke them with a piece of iron. Of course, if I'm within five feet, I can sense the demon's presence."
"Fascinating," Rossi commented, impressed.
"Until we know for sure of whether this unsub is possess or not, let's focus on the rest of the profile," Hotch suggested. "What else does these pictures tell us about the unsub?"
"Well, it's safe to say that he's a local," said Reid studying a picture. "He slit his victim's throat and is religious to some degree."
"So, he probably went to the same church," Emily guessed, "and there doesn't seem to be any signs of sexual assault. 'Course, with the lack of a lower half…"
There was general agreement to that, and they continued working on the profile, the victimology, and the geographic profile.
A while later, the jet landed and they were greeted by the lead detective.
"I'm glad you could make it," said the detective around a cigar, shaking hands with JJ. "I'm Detective Jordan."
"Jennifer Jareau," said JJ, doing the introductions. "This is SSA Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Dr. Spencer Reid, and the Winchesters: Dean, Liz, and Sam."
"Welcome. So how do you want to process?" Detective Jordan asked.
"Morgan, Rossi, and Liz, go to the local church and talk with both the reverend and the parents," Hotch instructed, ignoring the way that Morgan's eyes widened in protest. "Reid, Sam, and JJ go to the station and start setting up. Dean, Prentiss, and I will go to the morgue to examine the body."
Everyone nodded, split up into the respective SUVs, and headed out.
At the church, Liz was surprised when Morgan requested that Rossi should interview the reverend, and then fought back a laugh when she and Rossi left to talk with the parents, leaving him with the reverend. 'Oh, Morgan is so gonna get back at Rossi.'
Father Marks gave Morgan an inquiring look. "So, how long has it been, Agent Morgan?"
Morgan was startled. "Excuse me?"
"Since you've been in God's house," Father Marks explained. "Priests and dentists can spot an overdue customer a mile away, so how long has it been?"
Morgan frowned. "I didn't come here to talk about myself."
Father Marks nodded. "Occupational hazard. My apologies."
Morgan did his best not to tense up and asked his questions of whether Father Marks knew of anyone within his parish that would do something like this.
Father Marks shook his head. "No, I don't believe I know anyone who would kill in such a manner."
"Thank you for your time, sir." And Morgan left. 'I'm so gonna get back at Rossi for this.'
Meanwhile, Rossi and Liz were in the office with the parents, who were upset, and they were sorting through different pictures, and neither of them was too emotionally stabled.
"They won't let us have an open-casket," Mrs. Kelton explained to Liz, who was looking at the photos. "So, we were told to bring a picture for the funeral service, but I couldn't decide on just one, and I brought them all."
"She was very beautiful," Liz told her, putting the photo down and let Rossi take over the interview.
"Her first steps?" Rossi asked, picking up one of the photos while sitting on the edge of the desk.
"Yes, Bob took that picture so that I wouldn't miss it," Mrs. Kelton confirmed. "I was at a church retreat."
Rossi examined the photo before handing it over. "A bit young to be walking, don't you think?"
"Nine months," said Mrs. Kelton said proudly, "first in the neighborhood to swim, too."
While they talked, Liz glanced at Mr. Kelton and noted that he was tensing up in a way that she recognized to be pent up grief and anger. 'Oh boy, he looks ready to pop.'
And she was right. No sooner were the words "she's studying to be a nurse" out of Mrs. Kelton's mouth, did Mr. Kelton speak up.
"Was."
"What?" Mrs. Kelton asked, glancing at her husband. "What did you say?"
"She was studyin' to be a nurse," Mr. Kelton answered, not looking at his wife, and chewed on his thumbnail instead.
Mrs. Kelton stared at him for several seconds before standing up and left the room; Liz glanced at Rossi, who nodded, and she left the room, too, to look after the grieving woman.
Rossi moved from the desk to the couch, sitting next to the grieving man.
"I – I made the identification," Mr. Kelton explained thickly. "Doc, he lowered the sheet just enough so that I could see her face, but I – I could tell that somethin' was wrong from the way that the sheet was laying on her. Abby, my sweet Abby." He sniffed. "Doc, he…um…he told me that I didn't need to see, and – and Detective Jordan, he told me that I didn't need to know." He then fixed Rossi with a look. "Now, I trust Doc, and I trust Jordan, Agent Rossi. But if you tell me that same, I'll believe you."
Rossi looked at him with understanding. "Mr. Kelton," he said gently, touching the photos. "These are the memories you want to keep."
Mr. Kelton believed him and he broke down crying.
A while later, both Rossi and Liz left the church, where Father Marks was greeting a family bringing food for the Kelton's, and found a grumpy Morgan waiting for them at the SUV.
'Boy, if looks could kill,' Liz thought, noting the glare that Morgan was giving Rossi, who ignored it, and they all got into the SUV.
At the local morgue, Hotch, Emily, and Dean were talking with the head doctor about the victim.
"What do you believe to be the cause of death?" Hotch asked.
"I've determined it to having her throat cut," Dr. Fulton answered. "Plus her nose was broken 48 hours prior to her death."
"Blitz attack," Emily guessed, getting a confirming nod. "Must've done it to subdue her."
"And the pentagram?" Dean asked, noting the lack of sulfur, but he figured it might've been wiped off.
"Post mortem," Dr. Fulton responded.
"What about the fingers?" Emily asked.
Dr. Fulton sighed. "All ten were cut off at the first knuckle."
"How'd you know that?" Hotch asked.
"I was unsure about when at first," Dr. Fulton admitted, picking up a metal bowl. "But then I found these in her stomach. He cut her fingers off when she was still alive, and force fed them to her before her death."
Everyone grimaced at the sight of ten human fingers.
In a concrete room with walls covered with writing done in blood and several creepy-looking paintings, the man, now much thinner and older, was sitting at a table.
The books were probably organized, music was playing on a record player, and he was examining a baggie containing ten human fingers.
A/N: Yeah, I'm leaving this on a slightly creepy note, but that's how it goes sometimes. R&R everyone!