Chapter One: April 14, 2008
"Hey James, doing anything tonight?" Morgan asked as soon as I opened the door to the bullpen.
"Not you, Morgan." I retorted playfully.
He chuckled. "You keep saying that, but one day…"
"Not as long as I'm around, Chocolate Thunder." Garcia smacked him lightly as she came over to us for the usual good morning gossip session.
"Don't you two have work to do?" I reminded them.
Morgan flicked his pen at me as we both sat down to work on our reports on the last case. About an hour after we settled in our daily routine, FBI Special Agent Victor Henriksen stalked in, heading straight to Hotch's office. Morgan, Prentiss, and I all looked at each other, exchanging startled looks. "Isn't he on the brothers' case?" Emily Prentiss asked curiously.
Spencer Reid, our resident genius, nodded, looking up from his report. "He hasn't been able to keep them in custody, though, or find enough evidence for a jury to convict them."
"So why is he here?" Morgan sighed, leaning back.
"Looks like we're about to find out." I said, standing to my feet as Hotch motioned us to the conference room.
Henriksen tossed each of us two thick files and cleared his throat. "This is the team I hear so many good things about?" He sneered, looking directly at Spencer and Garcia.
Hotch stared at the other agent, his face blank. "The case, Henriksen?"
"The Winchesters. A modern day Bonnie and Clyde, complete with the irrational dependency on each other." Henriksen leaned forward. "My agents arrested them at a crime scene and they're in the first two interrogation rooms."
"What do you need us for then?" Morgan asked slightly rudely.
"Crack them." He opened the top file. "This is Dean." My mouth dropped. The same brilliant, piercing green eyes I remembered from four years ago stared back at me. Hotch glanced at me, raising his eyebrows. I shook my head and turned my attention back to Henriksen. "-leader of the two. If we get Dean to talk, Sam will as well." He paused. "Hotchner, I need your best in there."
"Okay. Morgan, you're with-"
"Hotch, I need to talk to you." I interrupted, standing to my feet.
He led me outside the conference room. "What is it?"
"About four years ago, I had a one-night stand with Dean and we kept in touch until seven or eight months ago."
He sighed. "Do you want off this case?"
"You're the boss. It's your call."
He thought for a few minutes. "You and Spencer are interrogating Sam."
I grabbed Sam's file and Spencer, meeting Morgan at the elevator. "Good luck, James."
"Same to you and Prentiss."
We stepped off the elevator and I stopped outside Sam's room, studying him before we went in. Sam Winchester was handcuffed to the table, leaning back. His eyes were closed and his shaggy brown hair fell almost to his shoulders. "Is he asleep?" Spencer asked quietly.
I opened the door. "Morning, Sam."
He jerked awake as Spencer and I sat down across from him. "Are you my lawyers?" He asked, looking between us.
"I'm Supervisory Special Agent Stacey James and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We're with the FBI's BAU."
"The Behavioral Analysis Unit? Great." He scoffed.
I placed the file on the table, still closed. "Then we can skip the introductory speech and get started."
"Go ahead, Agent." He said sarcastically.
Apparently, Sam had a problem with authority. Not surprising. "Your academic record is very impressive, especially when you moved around so much as a child. Why was that?" Spencer asked.
"Why was what? My impressive grades or moving around?" Sam countered. "My life is sucky. That's why."
"Really? How's that?"
He pointed to the file. "You've read it. You tell me."
"Was your childhood sucky, too?" I said, finally opening his file. "Being the new kid multiple times must've been hard."
"Life's hard. You learn to deal with it."
"Well, you certainly learned to deal with it. Stanford on a full-ride scholarship? And then, you dropped out. Weeks from graduation and you skipped your interview with Stanford Law School. Why?" Spencer prodded, trying to get him to talk.
"Felt like a good idea at the time."
I held my hand out to Spencer under the table, holding up one finger. He nodded and exited the room, hopefully going to the window to watch and listen. I then leaned forward, making eye contact with Sam, glad his eyes weren't green. "Sam, I'm not trying to convict you. I just want the truth. Drop the attitude and help me help you."
He blinked, his mouth going slack for a second. "Fine." He said after a few minutes. "What do you want to know?"
"Why'd you drop out? You had law school on a silver platter."
He shrugged, picking at a scratch on the table. "I needed a break."
"Understandable. It must've been hard with your girlfriend dying the same way as your mom." I moved a picture of the beautiful blonde, Jessica Moore, over. "She was beautiful. How long were you two together?"
"Almost three years."
"Wow. That's pretty serious." Sam just looked at me. "Sorry. Insensitive. What'd you do after you dropped out?"
"Road trip with my older brother."
"Dean, right?" He nodded. "How's your relationship with him?"
"We're brothers. He annoys the hell out of me, but we're close."
"You'd do anything for him, then?"
"Yeah." Sam's stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting our conversation. "Sorry."
"How long you been in here?" I asked, changing the subject.
"I don't know. Fifteen hours or so."
"Tell you what. I'll go grab you something to eat and you tell me about this road trip and those deaths in your wake across the country."
I walked out into the hall, taking Spencer with me to get something for him to eat. As we passed the interrogation room with Morgan inside, I peeked through the window. Morgan faced away from the window, leaning across the table. Dean, however, was smirking and leaning back as far as possible. "He's pissing Morgan off." Prentiss said, her arms crossed as she watched.
"Yeah, no kidding."
"You two get anywhere?"
Spencer nodded. "Stacey did. She's getting him some food and then, he might tell us what we need to know."
I left Spencer there with Emily, running to the vending machine. When I came back to the interrogation room with a sandwich and a cup of coffee, Sam wolfed it down. "Thanks."
"No problem. Don't want a lawsuit if you pass out in here." I joked. "So, how exactly do you and Dean make money? Neither one of you has a job."
"We work odd jobs."
"What about your down time?"
Sam's eyes flickered down to his lap. "We help people."
"By killing them?"
"We don't kill people!"
"What do you do then?" I responded. "According to the evidence, you and your brother are on a killing spree."
"Well, we're not." He said defiantly. "If I told you the truth, you'd have me committed to the nearest mental institution."
"I've heard everything in the book. Try me."
"You haven't heard this. Trust me." He countered.
I sighed. "I get it. Really, I do. You're scared of what Dean will do if you talk, but Sam, he doesn't have to know."
"If I tell you, will you leave me alone for a while?"
"Yes."
The hard look in his eyes made him look years older than his twenty-six years. "Dean and I hunt…monsters." My mouth dropped. "Things from your worst nightmares like demons, werewolves, witches, and more. We find suspicious deaths all around the country and figure out what's behind it."
I closed my mouth. For him to actually believe what he was saying…but he didn't think it was lie. In fact, he relaxed as he was speaking. I quickly got to my feet and left. Spencer was staring at Sam through the window. "Is he serious?"
"We gotta tell Hotch about this." I said, pulling him down the hall behind me.
