Stockholm's Warehouse by Lexical
Rating: M for graphic violence/scenes of torture and language.
Summary: The team are thrown into the nightmarish world of Jigsaw. When Reid and Hotch are abducted, how long will they last? Criminal Minds/ "Saw" Crossover. Takes place when "Jigsaw" is still ambulatory (think first movie).
Author's Note: This is my second fan fiction ever. Please be gentle. Concrit welcomed! This is chapter two- feedback and suggestions welcome. Have fun, guys.
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No one spoke on the plane, no one played cards. Reid was hunched over in his seat, reading even faster than usual, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Hotch was going over the files of the first 18 victims. JJ stared out the window, distraught. The speaker phone went off and Hotch got it.
"Yeah."
"It's Garcia, you're going to want to see this. I'm patching through a live feed now."
Hotch nodded and pulled open the laptop. Reid dropped his reading, followed Morgan and JJ over.
There was a little boy on the screen, holding a gun. A man, semi-conscious, could be seen in a reclining chair.
"Jesus," JJ breathed. "I didn't know he took kids."
"William Bartlay," A deep voice proclaimed, sounding both stern and somewhat amused at the same time.
"During the last 10 years, you have let yourself be tortured and mistreated daily. Instead of fighting back, you have declined into a state of acceptance and despair. You may only be a child, but you are old enough to still have some semblance of self preservation left. Your task today is a simple one. If you can overcome your conditioning and kill the man in front of you, you will be free to go. If you find yourself unable or unwilling to protect yourself even after your tormentor has been so thoroughly restrained, you will seal your fate as a victim. You have ten minutes."
Hotch grabbed the phone up, a direct line to Garcia, began barking orders. JJ and Morgan sat riveted to the screen. Reid ran a hand over his face and watched.
The boy was crying. He had been stripped to his underwear and his thin body was covered in bruises and welt marks that were plainly visible, even on the grainy feed. He held the gun loosely and walked around dazedly, eyes scanning the walls, the lights, anything.
"That's his real name?" Hotch snapped into the receiver, face grim. He disconnected and turned to face the other agents.
"Kid's name is legit. Never turned up for school today and was apparently sick yesterday. The man in the video is his father, Charles Bartlay. There have been 3 anonymous calls to social workers over the last year, but the father is a police officer and…"
"The kid denied it." Reid finished unnecessarily. Hotch nodded tightly, turned his attention towards the screen. The kid had snapped open the chamber of the gun, was apparently counting the bullets.
"I can't watch this." JJ said weakly, moving away from the monitor, one hand tugging on the material of her dress suit collar.
"He's going to do it." Reid breathed, watching as the boy snapped the chamber shut and walked towards his father. They all watched as the kid reached up, removed the gag from his father's mouth.
"He says I have to kill you." The boy said dazedly, free hand wiping at his eyes. The man in the chair looked at the gun, back at the boy, eyes wild with fear.
"Fucking untie me right now. You hear me?" His voice was hoarse, like he'd been screaming.
"I can't." The boy said, raising the gun.
"Listen to me, just untie me. Then we'll figure something out. It will be okay, if you just untie me. We'll figure something out."
"He's too strong." The boy said simply, eyes dull and lifeless.
The kid considered the gun, looked back at his father. Charles Bartlay leaned forward, hands taught against his ties.
"William, I am giving you an order. Put the gun down and fucking untie me…"
"He'll kill me if I don't do this." The kid said, face pinched and pale.
"Willy, listen to me, it'll be okay, but first you have to untie me…"
"I don't want to die, Daddy."
The sound of the gun blast made even Hotch wince. Reid looked away, blinked, looked back at the screen. The man in the chair, Charles Bartlay, looked confused for a second, before slumping over. The boy began to cry louder and Jigsaw cut back in.
"Very good, William. I know you have been wanting to do that for a long time."
The kid began to pace around like a trapped animal, a low, desperate keening noise rising in his throat. He went over to the slumped man, shook him, turned back towards the video feed, eyes huge and distant. Somewhere in the room the sound of an electric door lock buzzed and Jigsaw's voice said, quite simply: "You are free to go."
The feed died out and Hotch snapped the phone up, barking orders. Reid sat watching the snow, biting his lower lip, when the image of Jigsaw's face suddenly lit up the screen.
"Special Agent Aaron Hotchner and associates. I hope that got your attention." Hotch immidately moved back over to the monitor, one hand still cradling the phone. "Unfortunately, this young man's training is not yet over. The room he just walked into is airless and soundproof, a concrete coffin. You have two days to find him before his air supply runs out… of course, he has already been playing for a day without food or water, and the internal temperature of his tomb is below freezing."
The feed was back up. The kid was in another room, darkened, walking around in circles. After a moment he lifted his head towards the ceiling and called "Where do I go?" There was no response. He wrapped his arms around himself in a makeshift hug and continued to pace, hand reaching out to touch the wall. After a few minutes of pacing in near-blackness, with no further directions, he began to speak, low and raspy, voice clogged with tears.
"He's reciting the Pater Noster." Reid breathed, watching the feed, watching the kid's lips move. "More commonly known as the Lord's Prayer."
They all watched as the kid began to recite louder, pacing around in panicked, useless circles.
"And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those that trespass against us."
"He still has the gun." Reid said, gesturing to the screen. Hotch frowned, expression otherwise unreadable. The kid looked down at his hand, looked the piece over. Stopped and opened the barrel. Clicked it closed and continued to pray.
"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom."
The boy gazed towards the ceiling again, face wet with tears.
"He won't kill himself." Hotch said coldly, watching the scene.
The kid raised the gun. JJ came back over, looked at the feed. They were all looking at the feed now.
"You said I could go!" The boy shouted towards the camera, face crumpling. He began to cry again, harder, a desolate and despairing sound. After a moment he stopped and screamed. "I did what you said! I did what you said!" There was a distinct note of panic in his voice now.
"Why doesn't he let him go?" JJ barked out, turning away from the feed. "He did what Jigsaw wanted… he killed him."
"The boy isn't the focus. We are." Reid said, eyes never leaving the screen. "He's managed to abduct us without touching us."
Hotch nodded coldly. The phone rang and the senior agent snatched it up, turned away from the group. "Yeah, I want the school reports, the social worker reports. I want this kid's picture on the news… someone… yeah. Yeah, we have a recent photo. Yes. 20 minutes away. Okay."
Hotch hung up, came back over to the feed.
The kid was angling the gun at the ceiling, body trembling harshly in the gloom. He walked over to the feed, squinted his eyes, smiled grimly.
"He sees the camera." Reid breathed. The boy raised the gun, camera in his sight. He closed his eyes, concentrating.
"You let me go or I'll shoot out your eye!" He screamed hysterically, angling the gun with shaking hands. Reid sucked in his breath, watching. A full minute passed as the boy kept the camera in his sight, trying not to cry. Reid leaned forward, studying his face, fingers ghosting over the screen of the computer as the boy's eyes hardened. "If I'm going to die in here, you're not going to watch." The kid said blankly, wiping at his eyes. His chest was rising and falling fast, but he managed to keep his expression blank, keep himself from tearing up. There was another gunshot and the feed went black.
Reid leaned closer, tilted his head. They were still getting audio. The kid was crying hard now, full out sobs, and they didn't need the visuals to know he was terrified.
"That was smart." Reid said, turning to face Hotch. "You think he knew-".
"Wait." Morgan interrupted, staring at the grainy blackness. "You guys hear that?"
Reid cocked his head, frowned. Morgan held up his hand, motioning them to silence.
"And even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." The words were gasped out, interspersed with tiny, mewling noises.
"You prepare a table before me, in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup," Here the boy stopped, choking back a sob, "My cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me, all the days of my life… and I will dwell in the house of the lord, forever."
There was another gunshot blast. Hotch exhaled sharply, and even though there was no image on the screen, he turned away. Shut his eyes.
'We're going to get this son of a bitch." Morgan spat, eyes glittering.
Reid nodded, rubbed at his eyes. Hotch came back and disconnected the feed, expression blank.
"We land in five. Local PDs going to meet us."
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