Disclaimer: I only reference the title of a song, all rights belong to songwriter.
Emily, Tara, and Luke drove up to the old farmhouse in Chincoteague, Virginia where Sloane had been held captive for almost a year.
It was always disheartening to see what had once been a home be turned into a prison.
They walked up the porch steps of the house, wind chimes tinkled softly through the breeze, and were met by the head detective on the case, Diana Martin. Her graying hair was done in a pixie cut and, a baggy black suit hung loosely off of her body.
"Are you guys with the BAU?" She asked, extending a hand to Emily.
"Agents Prentiss, Alvez, and Dr. Lewis." Emily introduced, turning to Luke and Tara. The detective shook their hands with a curt nod.
"We really appreciate you guys coming in on this. The moment I first spoke to Sloane and then came and saw this place, I knew that this was right up your team's alley."
Emily let out a scoff.
"Glad we were thought of first." She scanned the front of the house with narrowed eyes. "Would you mind walking us through the house, letting us know what you have found so far?"
The detective waved her hand and invited them into the house. They walked through the entryway and took in the 80s country house decor with curiosity and skepticism, looking for anything that seemed out of place.
"Well the majority of the house hasn't revealed anything relevant or of note." Detective Martin said, placing her hands on her hips in thought. "It seems to be in the same condition that Betty Peterson left it in; hell, probably the condition it's been in since her husband died in '86. The real horror show is downstairs in the basement where Sloane was held."
"Did the Peterson's have any children?" Luke asked.
"Uh, no...no children." Detective answered. "No nieces or nephews either from what we knew about them. The Peterson's liked to keep to themselves. They didn't talk much about their lives before they moved to Chincoteague."
Emily pursed her lips.
"Luke, you stay up here and see if there is any sign of the unsub in the house that could give us any information on him," Emily said and Luke set off further into the room without a word. "Detective, let's have a look at this basement shall we?"
Detective Martin led Emily and Tara down steep basement steps, with each one creaking underneath their weight. They reached the bottom and felt soft pillowy carpet beneath their feet. Both agents were silent as they surveyed the room.
The walls were painted a bright purple and were covered with inspirational posters, children's art projects and classroom rules written on huge pieces of lined paper, all torn to shreds. Two massive bookshelves had been turned over onto the floor, books splayed onto the rainbow carpet. A white board had been set up next to a rocking chair matching the walls and fractions were drawn with careful precision on it, eraser marks obscuring bits of the numbers and shapes. Only two items were left without untouched by the chaos; a teacher and student desk.
Emily and Tara exchanged nervous glances.
"So this unsub, is clearly stuck in the second grade...something traumatic must have happened to him during that time and maybe he blames his teacher for not helping him and is trying to make it right with Sloane Bowman?" Tara speculated.
Emily walked over to the teacher's desk and examined the objects placed there. It was bare, besides a writing pad, an apple, and a pencil holder. She noticed the dust collecting around the objects, and a space clear of dust at the end of the desk.
"He took something off of this desk before he ran. Does there look to be anything missing from the student's desk Tara?"
Tara knelt down and looked at the desk, noting a spot between a bobble-head and an empty water bottle above the name tag. She traced Charlie's name written in cursive with the tip of her finger and nodded to Emily.
"He definitely had something sitting here."
Emily walked back over to the detective, determination evident on her face.
"We need to focus on how he left the room rather than imagining it for what it was." Emily observed."
"What do you mean?" Detective Martin asked.
"The unsub messed up everything in this room, most likely when he discovered that Sloane was missing, from rage and possibly rejection. But, he left both of these desks almost as they were...why would he do that?"
"To throw us off?" Detective Martin guessed.
"With an unsub like this, he wouldn't be capable of ruining his fantasy just to trick us. He feels the most sentimental about these two desks." Tara explained. "His motivations behind taking Sloane are probably locked away somewhere here, whether literally or symbolically.
"He took two mementos that are detrimental to his fantasy that cannot be replaced, otherwise he would've left them when he destroyed the could be from his childhood, maybe even gifts that he received from his teacher that meant a lot to him."
A CSI was touching the white board on the far wall and leaped out of the way when it suddenly came down and a small bed took its place. The detective, Emily, and Tara all stared at the bed for a moment, thinking again about the girl who was once held here.
"We need Sloane to tell us what those items on the desk were. Detective, are the images from the crime scene already uploaded onto the online case file?" Emily asked, breaking the silence, and she brought her phone out in front of her.
"I believe they were put on there a few hours ago." Detective Martin answered, confused.
"The all powerful Garcia present, bow down before me," Garcia's rang out through the room through the phone.
"Garcia, can you access the crime scene photos from Betty Peterson's farmhouse?"
Garcia scoffed.
"Can I access the crime scene photos- do you know who you're talking to Emily Prentiss? Did I not just say I was 'all powerful'?" Garcia asked in mock disbelief. "Of course! I've been staring at them for the past hour and, let me tell you, this guy takes "homework" to a whole new level."
"Tell me about it." Emily replied. "Can you send the images from the two desks to Reid and JJ so that Sloane Bowman can take a look at them?"
"You got it! I also found some general information on Betty Peterson and Sloane and Scott Bowman...I'll send that to your tablets as well!"
"Thanks Garcia. Can you also double check if the Peterson's have any family or relatives that we don't know about."
"Also any services that Mrs. Peterson may have needed within the last five years; plumbers, electricians, anything like that." Tara said.
"I will get right on that and reply shortly! TTFN friends!" Garcia chirped before hanging up.
"What are you thinking?" Detective Martin questioned.
"I'm thinking that Mrs. Peterson most likely knew the unsub." Emily responded. "For him to feel comfortable enough to create his fantasy in this house, he had to have staked it out for months beforehand. He would've come into the house multiple times and pictured everything playing out perfectly here."
"So this house wasn't random?"
Tara shook her head.
"Nothing about this unsub is random."
All three women turned as they heard footsteps echoing down the stairwell. Luke appeared on the bottom step and met their expectant gazes.
"You guys need to come look at this."
Rossi and Simmons were in the tiny Chincoteague morgue with two decomposing bodies laid out on a table. An older Indian man, Dr. Dhaval Patel, the coroner, stood between them.
"There isn't much to tell with these two." Dr. Patel said, gesturing to both skulls. "COD were gunshot wounds to the back of the head but Betty Peterson here," the coroner tapped close to the woman's body, "showed no signs of restraint or injury...but Scott," his eyes moved over to the other body, "has fractured wrists and blunt force trauma to the head."
"That matches the story that Sloane shared with Spencer and JJ," Rossi observed. "Sloane had to put zip ties around Scott's wrists and he had been knocked in the head with the butt of the unsub's gun."
"Were injuries to Scott done post or peri-mortem?" Rossi asked, narrowing his eyes at Dr. Patel.
"Peri-mortem. Nothing out of the norm seems to be done to the body post-mortem." Dr. Patel answered matter of factly.
A nurse came in and handed Dr. Patel a folder and murmured something in his ear.
"There was a bus crash Route 13...7 bodies are about to roll through here." Dr. Patel informed them. "Please let me know if you need anything else."
He shook hands with both agents, and then followed the nurse out the double doors, leaving Rossi and Simmons alone.
"So what I would like to know, is why didn't he do anything to Betty Peterson?" Simmons asked. "What was the difference between her and Scott Bowman?"
"Maybe he didn't need to do that with Mrs. Peterson." Rossi speculated. "Both kills are of an unsub who doesn't enjoy the killing or the torture, otherwise there would have been more signs of assault. He killed both people with a specific goal in mind, like he felt forced to. Maybe with Betty he didn't have to subdue her because she trusted him enough to turn her back on him and he saw an opportunity and went for it."
Simmons crossed his arms across his chest in thought.
"So Betty Peterson was a means to an end to get access to the house. But Scott Peterson...he was in the unsub's way so that was why the kill was slightly more personal."
"Having him killed in front of Sloane was getting rid of the main distraction in her life, the only thing that could distract her from him; her husband." Rossi added.
"This seems to be very much centered on Sloane," Simmons concluded. "We need to figure out how the unsub first came into contact with Sloane and how she became his obsession."
Rossi nodded in agreement.
"There is one thing about this that I don't get though." Simmons admitted. "If this unsub is so obsessed with Sloane, to the point that he would hold her for a year, why would he then take another women to take her place? Wouldn't that ruin his fantasy?"
"He told Sloane that he would do that, most likely to keep her in line." Rossi responded. "But the unsub's potential anger at her now could stress him to actually act on it. He could think that the risk of another person may cause Sloane to come back to him."
Simmons shook his head.
"So is deranged or methodical in all of this?"
Rossi gave out a morbid chuckle.
"Often times with these unsubs, it's both."
"So Garcia talked with the principal at the school where Sloane worked and he said that he had other parents complain about seeing a man on the other side of the fence at the playground fitting the description Sloane gave him." JJ said, walking over to Spencer as he looked through the window of Sloane's room. "But since they only got a few reports and he wasn't seen again, they didn't investigate further."
Spencer scoffed.
"Of course not...did they at least give the police the description when she disappeared?"
"They did," JJ responded, following Spencer's curious gaze on a sleeping Sloane. "But it led to a dead end, which now makes sense seeing as he took Sloane across the country."
Spencer nodded, the only acknowledgement he gave that he had heard her.
"You want to talk to her again." JJ stated with a knowing look.
"Did Garcia send you something?" Spencer asked instead of answering.
JJ sighed and pulled her phone out of her pocket to show him the pictures.
"Background information on all three victims. And Emily wants us to ask Sloane if she can tell us what was originally on these desks." She pointed to the two desks in the crime scene photos. "It looks like he only took two things when he left and they think it may be important to why he took Sloane in the first place. She should have sent them to you as well."
Spencer examined the image for a brief second and then turned back to Sloane.
"Would you mind if I talked to her alone?" Spencer asked quietly.
JJ pursed her lips.
"Yeah...I saw that coming." JJ squeezed Spencer's forearm. "I'll go talk to Mrs. Simon, get more a feel for Sloane's personality and why the unsub may have been drawn to her."
With that, she knocked softly on Sloane's door, spoke briefly to Mrs. Simon, before the two of them left together, Mrs. Simon hunched over as she moved down the hall.
Spencer waited until the two women had gone around the corner before he entered Sloane's room.
Sloane was curled on her side, her blanket pulled up to her chin and her hands tucked underneath her head. Spencer smiled to himself at the sight. He sat down in the chair that Mrs. Simon had vacated and pulled a book out of his bag, deciding he would read until she woke up.
"Are they gone?" Sloane suddenly asked causing Spencer to jump out of his seat, his book falling to the floor.
"Uh-uh yes, they're gone," Spencer stuttered, trying to regain his composure. His eyes narrowed. "Have you been awake this whole time?"
Sloane opened her eyes and sat up, pushing her blankets down to her feet.
"Well not the whole time. But for the last half an hour after Cammy left to take K-9 out and all my mom has done is stare at me like I'm going to disappear?...yes."
Spencer's lips turned up in a small smile as he reached down to retrieve his fallen book.
"I didn't mean to scare you." Sloane said. "But...I have to admit, it was a little funny."
Spencer laughed and moved his chair closer to the bed.
"Well, I'm happy that I can provide you with some much needed entertainment." Spencer replied.
The two sat there, casting admiring glances at one another, neither one of them speaking. Spencer was content in the silence while Sloane was growing more and more confused. Sloane fluffed her curls and bit her lip, unable to keep it so quiet.
"So...what can I do you for Dr. Reid?" Sloane finally asked.
Spencer cleared his throat.
"Some of the members of my team are at the house where he took you," Spencer began. "And there are a few missing items that we believe could be important to identifying the man who held you; Charlie."
Sloane winced at the name, her gaze grew defiant.
"He made me call him that...but really I only ever thought of him as the bastard who murdered Scott." Sloane gripped the bottom of her hospital gown. "And he took some things?"
Spencer nodded, and brought out his iPad from his bag.
"Do you think you would be okay looking at some pictures of the room to see what is missing? In particular, we noticed that there were things missing from the desks, both the teacher and the student desks, had been reorganized in a hurry."
Sloane said nothing but held Spencer's gaze. He took Sloane's silence as a yes and placed the iPad on her lap, pictures of the two desks filling up the screen. She sucked in a sudden breath at the sight and she clenched the sides of the iPad as she looked closer.
"Well from his desk...it looks like his yellow dog stuffed animal and gold pen is missing. It's the only pen that he will use. And from my desk, I mean the teacher's desk…" she trailed off and glanced at Spencer, looking to see if he had noticed, but his face showed no change. "I don't see anything missing. Like, things have been moved around but he didn't take anything from it."
Spencer cocked his head to the side, a few strands of hair fell across his forehead
"You're sure nothing was taken? Positive?"
Sloane's eyes widened at his doubt and she gave a nod.
"Yes...I sat at that desk everyday for almost a year; I think I would know what was or was not on it."
Spencer pursed his lips.
"Of course, I'm sorry, it's just...do you remember if Charlie- I mean the man who took you, held some kind of significance for those objects?"
Sloane thought for a moment, staring at the iPad, hesitancy evident in her expression.
"Sloane…," Spencer said, enjoying the way her name fell off his tongue. He thought about what that meant as he waited for Sloane to answer, wondering what anything meant when it came to her really.
"He only ever used the gold pen," Sloane finally responded a minute or so later. "And the old stuffed dog...he never really did anything with it. It just sat on his desk. He used to stroke it and talk to it sometimes but that was about it...I think I tried to talk to him about it once and it made him smile."
Spencer scooted his chair closer to the bed.
"Good, good-"
"Good?" Sloane cut him off. "How is that a good thing?"
"I'm sorry," Spencer said quickly. "I just meant that that information is good in that it is useful. So the stuffed dog was old?"
"Yeah...I mean, it was obvious that it had once belonged to a child..."
And they again fell into silence.
Meanwhile, JJ walked Mrs. Simon into the hospital cafeteria and sat her down at a corner table, looking at her cautiously.
"Can I get you anything Mrs. Simon? Coffee, tea?"
Mrs. Simon shook her head.
"Oh, no thank you...I don't drink either. It is against my family's religion."
"You're Mormon?" JJ guessed, sliding into the seat in front of her.
"Yes," Mrs. Simon answered. "I joined the Mormon church when I was an eighteen year old in Spain, that is how I met Sloane's father. He was serving a Mormon mission at the time and taught me about the church."
JJ nodded.
"So the church played a huge role in how you raised Sloane and Cameron?"
"Very much. It was the centerpoint of their lives growing up. But I'm afraid that my husband and I did not do our job in keeping it that way."
"Sloane and Cameron don't practice Mormonism?"
Mrs. Simon again shook her head.
"No. Cameron came out as a gay when he entered high school and began dating other men, something that our church frowns upon and he was immediately cast out of our ward. Sloane has always looked out for Cameron growing up and didn't like it, so she decided that if they were not going to accept her brother for who he is, she would leave too."
"Is Sloane like that with other people? Protective?"
Mrs. Simon let out a light laugh.
"Always. Sloane has always been putting the needs of others above her own. It is something that our church teaches a lot about: service and how important it is...I don't think that there is a selfish bone in her entire body."
JJ nodded.
"So this is something that other people would know about her? How selfless she is?"
Mrs. Simon leaned in, placing her elbows on the table.
"Agent, her kindness radiates from her inside and out. I sometimes wondered if it would cause others to take advantage of her...it brings me no joy to say that I was right."
JJ clasped her fingers together on the table as Mrs. Simon sat back in her chair.
"Mrs. Simon, we know that your husband died a year before Sloane and Scott were taken...do you think that there is any possibility that there could be a connection between your husband and the man who did this?"
"My husband was not perfect Agent Jareau but he did not have a habit of making enemies. He was honest and respectful to everyone that he met."
"Do you have any extended family?"
"Bill's family died in a car accident while he was on his mission and I was raised in a Spanish orphanage...the only family either one of us had was the one that we had made together." Mrs. Simon reached her hands across the table and grasped JJ's. "I am saddened by the loss of my son in law and I want nothing more than to catch whoever did this to him and my daughter. I have lost enough family and need to see some justice. Please...find him."
JJ squeezed Mrs. Simon's hands in response.
"I need to get out of this room!" Sloane suddenly exclaimed and turned in her bed, placing her feet into hospital slippers that sat on the floor.
Spencer stood up quickly, restraining himself from reaching towards her and forcing her back in bed.
"Are you sure that you should be doing that? Your chart says that you're being kept overnight just in case-"
"In case of what? There's nothing that was done to me that they haven't found yet. If it was up to me, I would be on my way home."
Sloane walked to the door and pulled on a robe that hung on a hook behind it.
"If you want to stay in here, that's up to you. But if you're wanting to ask me more questions, then you're going to have to come." Sloane looked at Spencer expectantly. "I've been in this room since they found me, barely leaving it to take a shower, and I just can't be confined to a room anymore."
Sloane didn't wait for Spencer's answer before she left but smiled when only a few moments later, she heard him hurry along behind her.
Sloane didn't have an exact place in mind of where she was headed; she really didn't care. All she knew was that she had to get back to who she was almost a year ago. The man wouldn't take that from her.
He already took Scott.
He wasn't going to take her too.
Spencer was silent as they walked, glancing her way every so often, but saying nothing. He couldn't help but admire the look of determination on her face and the way that she moved with so much confidence. It was when he was caught up in watching her that she suddenly came to a halt and it took a second until he finally saw what caught her attention.
A piano.
A mini grand piano sat in what appeared to be a lounge area of the hospital. Sloane took small steps towards it, like she was partly afraid, and then she was there, her knee bumping into the piano bench.
Sloane took a deep breath before she pulled out the bench, sat down, and scooted it closer to the piano. She stretched her hands to the keys and rested her fingertips on top of them lightly; the cool, smooth surface feeling like a memory from a dream long ago. Sloane softly played the scales, stretching out her fingers as she did so, and Spencer's pulse quickened in anticipation as a grin spread across her face.
And then she began to play.
Spencer recognized the song instantly as Lily Allen's rendition of Somewhere Only We Know, a sweet but almost melancholy tune. Sloane played the introduction with ease, her hands moving across the keys fluidly, and it wasn't long before her voice followed, low and sure. Spencer's focus was entirely on the song, both Sloane's playing and singing, that her eyes flicking onto his face every so often nearly knocked him off of his feet.
As Sloane played, Spencer thought on how she exuded a strength that he had never witnessed before in a victim. She was different, deciding to not reflect on her experiences but rather relay them to something constructive so easily, it was almost concerning. But the sorrow that Sloane showed for Scott was very real, the disgust and anger that she had for the man was very real, and the worry that she had for a woman who may or may not be in danger, there was no faking that.
Spencer was completely fascinated with Sloane.
Sloane, who he only met hours before yet felt like he had known her forever. Sloane, whose husband was killed right in front of her and who she grieved for as she went through hell. Sloane, who was held captive for almost a year and yet cares more about a potential victim than her own suffering. Sloane, whose favorite book was Sense and Sensibility and who loves others more than herself.
Spencer felt a pull to her that he knew he had to keep in check. She was a victim of a terrible crime who was deserving of the help only his team could lend. He swore to himself then and there that he had to redirect all of these misplaced feelings to the case.
He had to focus.
Spencer could tell that the song was coming to an end. Sloane's pace was slowing and her head was turned in his direction as she sang the song's last words.
"Somewhere only we know."
Sloane's fingers came off of the keys and fell into her lap, her eyes never leaving Spencer's, and her foot gently coming off of the petal. Sloane searched Spencer's gaze, wondering what he could possibly be thinking, as she pondered what was on her mind.
The man hadn't taken music away from her.
It still brought her joy that only it ever did.
Sloane was surprised she was able to get through the song without crying, without thinking too much of Scott, but she realized in that moment that she had mourned him long ago.
He was never coming back but she was here.
And she'd be damned if she would let what happened to her family happen to someone else's.
Unable to sit in silence anymore, Sloane broke the trance by clearing her throat, and turning away.
"Uh, my mom had both Cammy and I take piano lessons when we were kids...well it's really a Mormon thing, most Mormons take lessons. But anyways, I was always pretty good at it but, uh, I didn't feel that same passion for it that I got when I surfed or taught so I didn't go on to be professional like she wanted...same with singing. All Mormons sing but she also had me take voice lessons…" Sloane knew she was rambling but she thought it was better than not saying anything at all. "And music definitely makes me happy and it affects my mood a lot but I like to do it my way and not fit into some box-"
Spencer started backing from the room, his sneakers squeaking against the tile caused Sloane to look back into his direction.
"Did you sing this song in public before you were taken?"
Sloane nodded.
"Uh...yeah, actually, I sang this at our district staff's talent show about three months before...do you think he was there? Do you think that that's why he picked me?"
Spencer quickly walked from the room, looking to find JJ and tell her what he had just discovered, as Sloane followed.
"Dr. Reid? Dr. Reid!"
Spencer was too caught up in his revelation to hear her.
The unsub thought that Sloane asked him to take her.
To somewhere only they knew...