A/N
Title: Divine Intervention
Author: Ihli
Rating/Warnings: M/MPreg
Pairing: No pairing for story, Hotch/Reid established.
Summary: Morgan is missing and the unsub has very special plans for him. (M-Preg/No pairing/Established Hotch/Reid)
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or any of the characters I just like to play with them sometimes. I promise to put them back where I found them.
A/n
Hello all,
This story is set in my Reality TV universe. Because of this Hotch/Reid is an established couple.
For the record, this story was about 90% complete before I saw the season 8 episode God Complex. I must have been tapped into the collective unconsciousness or something. Fortunately, I went in a different direction.
I posted a bit about writing this story over on my blog. .com. (Well, I'm gonna once I post this chapter so I can link to it.)
Please review.
-Ihli
Thanks to The Shameless BookWorm for the push to write this story and for Beta'ing it. All mistakes are mine.
Chapter 1
When Derek Morgan didn't show up for work on Monday morning, Spencer Reid was not particularly worried, but he was surprised. Morgan was a dedicated agent who took his job very seriously and would not just miss work.
The young agent stood and walked up the stairs to the office of his lover, and boss, Aaron Hotchner, and knocked on the open door so as not to startle the unit chief who was deep in concentration.
Hotch looked up and smiled. "How can I help you, Reid."
"Has Morgan called in? He hasn't arrived yet."
The corners of Hotch's lips fell, and his Death Glare snapped into place.
"No, he hasn't. I'll have Garcia locate him." Reid sighed in relief. The technical goddess would find her favorite flirting partner.
CMCMCMCMCM
But she didn't, or more correctly, she couldn't. He had vanished and soon the team was working the case. It didn't look good.
He wasn't in his apartment, and the front door was unlocked. Forensics went over the place with a fine tooth comb but could find no trace of finger prints. His cell phone, wallet, and keys were on the table beside the bed. His gun was still locked in its safe. It was hard to say if anything was missing, but a few shelves seemed unusually empty.
Reid spotted a drop of something on Morgan's bed sheet and had it tested. It was thiopenzine ― a powerful sleep agent and highly controlled substance. There was no reason for Morgan to have access to such a powerful drug. It was the type that would only be given under medical supervision, likely by an anesthetist.
Two hours later, the team gathered in the conference room. Garcia found the next clue. A supply of thiopenzine had been stolen from Holy Cross Hospital three months earlier.
Prentiss leaned into the table. "Why would the unsub steal the drug and then wait three months to use it?"
"Perhaps the theft was a crime of opportunity. He didn't have a plan," JJ speculated.
Reid hands waved in the air. "No, that drug is heavily regulated; stealing it took planning and effort."
Garcia's fingers danced over her keyboard. "I checked over the hospital recordings from that night. Whoever did this was able to take the drugs without leaving any evidence. I can't find any signs that the video was tampered with."
"Garcia, did anyone seem to take too long to get the medications they signed out?" Reid asked
"Actually, now that you mention it, this guy did." A few taps and a click, and the video started playing as a man entered the secured area. "Dr. Henderson, a visiting physician from Mass General. He's been in four times over a five hour period."
"Look at the way he's holding his body. He's shielding what he's doing from the camera." Reid added.
The keys clicked again as the technical goddess worked her special brand of computer magic. "Voila, this is Dr. Henderson's file."
A picture appeared on the screen of a balding man in his late fifties; what little was left of his hair was white; his face wrinkled. A pair of glasses was perched on his nose.
JJ shook her head. "That's not the same person. Yet, he used Henderson's key card access."
They looked again. The man in the video had dark brown hair and didn't wear glasses.
"Garcia, see if you can get an ID for this man," Hotch ordered.
"I'm running the recognition program now," she pressed enter with a flourish. "But we only got a part of his profile. This will take the computer some time."
"None of this explains why he waited three months," JJ added.
"Garcia, check to see if there have been other kidnappings in the area where thiopenzine was found at the scene. Include Maryland and the district," Rossi requested.
"You got it." The tap-tapping on the keys seemed faster than was possible. "Oh God…"
"What is it, Garcia?" Hotch asked.
"There have been four kidnappings in the last three months where traces of thiopenzine were found at the crime scene. Three of the victims turned up dead a week later. One is still status unknown and oh…" Garcia paused, her hand to her mouth. "The unsub mutilates them. Two were missing organs; one was missing limbs."
JJ's face tightened. "This case is in our back yard. Why wasn't it brought to our attention before this?"
"Oh…because no one has linked them together. The victimology is all over the map. Look."
Garcia started reading off the statistics; her eyes wide, and a tremor in her voice. "Victim number one, Ting Chun, age eighteen, four foot eleven. Black haired female from China, here in the US at George Washington University. She was returned without kidneys, heart, lungs, or eyes. The file says police are looking for black market organ sales but have no leads."
The team took a moment to study her photo before the next one was displayed.
Garcia read the next set of data. "Victim number two, Archibald Weston, age thirty-two, five foot ten, dark haired, Caucasian. Also missing kidneys and heart. Autopsy showed signs some kind of surgery before death. It looks like they were implanting something near his stomach but his body seems to have rejected it, that was listed as cause of death."
Reid skimmed the files in front of him, committing all of the details to memory.
Garcia continued the depressing litany. "Victim number three, Theresa Haggard, age twenty-two, five foot four, black haired, African-American. Still missing."
Prentiss's mouth turned down at the corners, as she skimmed the data.
Garcia changed the image again, speaking in a shaky voice. "Victim number four, Sanjai Patel, age thirty, five foot seven, black haired, from India. Found with hands and feet removed at the wrists and ankles. The wounds were surgical; he clearly survived and there were signs of healing. Oh…his body had three kidneys. One was clearly a transplant."
Reid shifted in his seat. "We need to have the ME see if the transplanted kidney belonged to any of the other victims."
"He was found without a heart or liver." Garcia grimaced.
Rossi looked at the file before him. "You're right; victimology is all over the map. We have to assume he took these people for a reason."
Hotch turned to his lover and subordinate. "Reid, start profiling the victims, see if there is something that links them, and include Morgan."
Reid nodded, determination painting his face.
Satisfied with his response, Hotch focused on Rossi and JJ. "Check out the dump sites for the three that have been returned." The two agents started packing up, preparing to leave.
Hotch started to gather his own file. "Prentiss, let's go meet with the family for the victim that is still missing."
"Ah, Hotch."
"Yes, Garcia?"
"A med student, Amy Sellars just checked in at Holy Cross. She says she was kidnapped and surgically altered. Her hand has been surgically removed and replaced with another hand." She also appears to have some kind of stomach wound.
"Rossi, with me, we're going to the hospital. Prentiss go with JJ to the dumpsites."
