And Carried Me Away
Chapter Four:
Rossi gazed out at the patio where his daughter and grandson were playing with Jemma, after Spencer had dropped her off on his way to pick up Alsie. His eyes grew misty. It was idyllic and surreal, and he thought how just a few years ago he'd believed such a moment was impossible. He'd been overwhelmed with finding out about Joy and her son, and was still getting used to being a father and grandfather to them.
Then that case in Western New York happened and he found out about James. About the lie he and Carolyn had been told thirty-six years ago, and then the conspiracy behind that lie. It had blindsided him more than Hayden hiding Joy's existence from him. That at least he understood, though he was still hurt by it and lamented not being there for his daughter growing up. But James' kidnapping was one he didn't understand.
He'd just started his work hunting down serial killers with Gideon and the other starting members of the Behavioral Science Unit back then. The BAU as it was now, was only a dream back then, and not many believed they'd accomplish much if anything. So why did Connell and Somerfield target his son? Why did Somerfield experiment on James, trying to psychologically condition his son to become a killer? How had he been a threat to either of them that they would take James as a precaution?
He'd never heard of either man until just a few months ago!
The sound of his cell-phone buzzing pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced at the number before answering.
"Yeah, Hotch? Is everything ok?" Rossi paused, his gaze watching as Jemma played with her cousin and aunt, her voice carrying inside from the patio. He smiled faintly as he saw the gestures the three year old made and understood what she was saying. It still amazed him how quickly Jemma had picked up sign language after they started teaching her. He was still having trouble with it, and mixed up a lot, but he understood what Jemma just signed. She'd been signing it for the past week.
-Momma's coming home soon. I'll get to see her.-
Rossi smiled at his granddaughter, missing what Hotch had just said over the phone. He didn't miss the tone though, and immediately turned his attention back to the other agent. "I'm sorry, I missed what you just said, what..."
-"Someone's copying James' crimes. Almost exactly. There's been only one recent victim discovered so far, a few weeks ago, but..." Hotch paused, his words horrifying and angering the older agent, who could barely respond from said emotions. "This unsub is killing his victims."-
Rossi, infuriated, barely noticed the ringing of his doorbell or his daughter going to answer it, his focus on Hotch. His tone was almost a snarl when he spoke, his anger directed at the thought of the unsub copying his son's crimes. As if it wasn't enough to have endured arresting and seeing his son sent to prison, to suddenly have it thrown back at him now and in this way. "Victims? Has there been more than one? Hotch?"
-"...Yes and no. This recent victim was the only one raped and enucleated by this unsub. But based on how the victim was killed, it's likely he killed at least three times before." Hotch replied, stating it matter-of-factly though Rossi sensed there was something more to it. He didn't have to wait long or even ask how the victim was killed before the younger agent elaborated. "The cause of death was three punctures to the spine, just like the three women who were James' victims thirteen years ago."-
"That's..." Rossi drew in a breath, Hotch's words a blow to him. He hadn't forgotten the three victims that were connected to James after the latter's arrest, but he had allowed himself to be content with not pursuing it since it'd been given to another team. One that had, he presumed, come to the same conclusion he and Hotch had: that the three women were assaulted by James, but murdered years later by another party. Rossi scowled, considering this information, before his anger was tempered with wonder. A thought had occurred to him as suddenly as his anger. "Hotch, if this unsub is responsible for killing those three women, then maybe..."
-"It's possible but unlikely." Hotch curtailed the senior agent's hypothesis, that the victims that were assaulted thirteen years ago and which they'd attributed to James, may not have been James' after all. "This unsub killed his victim before raping her. And the enucleation showed hesitance according to the coroner's initial report."-
Rossi exhaled, not surprised but dismayed by Hotch's refuting response. He was about to ask another question when Joy approached him, carrying an envelope. His eyes narrowed slightly, eyeing the package suspiciously. It was a plain, ochre-yellow business envelope, hand addressed to him. Seemly innocuous, yet it unnerved him. His gut roiled.
"Dad? This just came for you. I..." Joy spoke, holding the large envelope-shaped package out hesitantly. It was evident that she felt a bit suspicious about the package, but she still flinched when Rossi grabbed it from her hands. Her own concern heightened when her father suggested she play with her son and Jemma outside. "Dad...?"
"Go." Rossi replied, firm but softly, his gut clenching as a horrible feeling enveloped him. He didn't know what was in the package, but his gut was screaming at him that it wasn't good.
-"...Dave? Is something wrong? Did something happen?" Hotch asked, concerned by the tone to the older agent's voice even if he hadn't clearly heard the words. "Dave?"-
"A package just arrived for me." Rossi replied coolly, his eyes locked on the handwriting which seemed familiar but at the same moment felt wrong. He placed it on the table, deliberating what could be inside. His gut screamed at him.
-"What sort of package...?" Hotch asked, his eyes narrowing as he detected through the way Rossi spoke, what the other man thought. The package wasn't just a simple package, but one that had alarmed the senior agent's instincts. "Dave? Should I send the b..."-
Rossi, already opening the package, shook his head and muttered 'no' into his cell phone. His gut wasn't telling him the contents were dangerous, but that the handwriting was important. "No bomb squad, Aaron..." He paused, his expression turning rigid as he saw what was inside. He drew in a breath, mentally swearing. "But send forensics. And the team."
-"What? What's in the package? Dave?"-
Rossi didn't answer, but rather glowered down at the contents: a pair of human eyes haphazardly preserved in a Ziploc bag, and a VHS with 'to Rossi' written on the front.
0
Hospital:
"...I'll finish packing." Alsie mumbled, turning back to her things arrayed haphazardly on the bed. Her eyes alighted uneasily on the rubber-banded stack of photos and she immediately grabbed them. Her heart quickened, hoping that neither man behind her had noticed.
"Uh...I'll...I'll be on my way." William Reid spoke up next, not sure how to respond to his son's presence. Neither he nor Alsie had told Spencer he was still in D.C, let alone would be visiting Alsie today. Though, to be fair, neither had they told him that William Reid wasn't still in D.C. "...Bye."
Spencer watched quietly as his father bid goodbye to his sister, keeping his lips pressed shut until he heard the older man leave. It'd thrown him, seeing his father and Alsie talking, enough that he had stopped himself from opening the door. A total of eleven minutes and eighteen seconds had passed between him arriving and him entering the room.
A short time, yet it had felt like an eternity. Just standing outside, caught between wanting to barge in to demand his father leave and not wanting to deny his sister time with hi...their father. Spencer swallowed and cleared his throat, feeling both guilty and self-conscious. 'It's 'our'...'our'. Not 'my'...'
Alsie, having wordlessly packed away the photo stack unnoticed, glanced towards Spencer. Her eyes noticed his face, and the mix of fear and guilt in it. She noticed too, while she gazed on him silently, the moment his concern shifted to irritation. "Sp..."
"...it isn't mom's fault." Spencer blurted, his thought processes moving fast, dashing away from his concern for Alsie's relationship with their dad, and locking on the bits of conversation he'd overheard. The one most prominant had been when Alsie had complained about Diana - the tone she'd used still seemed to pierce him. "It's not her fault. Not back then and not now."
Alsie flinched, her eyes widening a millimeter. She stared up at her twin, allowing her hair to fall back behind her ears, as she gazed at him. Her eyes expectant. "...why?"
"Why?" Spencer drew in a breath, taking the one word question as a criticism directed at Diana. He nearly spat out an angry retort before Alsie continued, revealing how incorrect his assumption had been.
"What is it? What happened? Is she okay? Are you?" Alsie approached Spencer, her questions rapid-fire, and her eyes wide with concern. She immediately grabbed for her brother's hands. "Spencer?"
"..." Spencer glanced down at Alsie's hands holding his, the gesture the only way his sister could offer comfort. And just it alone was enough to make the last of his composure drop. The tears fell silent as he recounted his trip and what he'd discovered. That their mother had early-onset dementia, that she would slowly lose her memories. "...there's nothing I can do. Mom's...and I...I want to do something, to help her...not just for my or her sake. But...for you and Jemma too. I...I want Jemma and you to meet mom, but if her memory...it'd be difficult enough explaining to her the truth once. That you were taken. I'd prepared for that weeks ago. It would've been emotional, overwhelming, but doable since I was sure she'd be overjoyed discovering the truth. But..."
"...yeah." Alsie mumbled, getting Spencer's concern and understanding his turmoil. The prospect of having to possibly repeat the explanation over and over, would be exhausting emotionally. Yet she felt bitter. Before Spencer had gone to see Diana, he'd told Alsie such wonderful stories about the woman, that Alsie had looked forward to meeting her. To finally be able to see her real mom, and be able to have a mother worthy of the title.
Her bitterness faded however, as an idea popped into her thoughts. It was one she had buried, locking up in the dark coffers of her brain. One she knew no one would understand or condone, yet it still burned inside her. She squeezed Spencer's hands, gazing up at him timid yet hopeful.
"You know, we could forget too, that we are..."
"What? No." Spencer flinched, understanding what Alsie meant before she even finished, and was left aghast. The petite woman hadn't mentioned or hinted towards it since the first time she suggested it, so he thought it was done with. Yet now...
"...I already explained that...there's no risk...I can't...carry to term again. So...all that'd be hindering us..."
"No. Alsie. Just no. That's not going to happen." Spencer groaned, feeling nauseous from the thought. It was bad enough that he and Alsie had kissed briefly, before finding out about being twins. But what Alsie suggested was much worse. At least the kiss had occurred before he knew Alsie was his twin and had been initiated by her alter Ana.
Alsie's hesitant hints at wanting to continue such a relationship with him despite knowing were disconcerting.
"...I'm sorry."
"I can't...I can't believe you would suggest something like that now. Just after I explained about mom. I can't..." Spencer shook his head, staring at Alsie like she was a bizarre alien. It seemed like the only explanation, though he knew it had more to do with how Alsie was raised and her trust issues than that. "...how...do you even actually care about mom? Or anything I said about her? I can't..." He pulled his hands from his sister's.
"...sorry." Alsie whispered, flinching at the sudden loss of Spencer's hands. It was such a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes to her. More than her brother's frustrated and angry words. Her eyes teared up, which she hid by shifting her head downward, allowing her hair to conceal her eyes from anyone over her height. Her bereft hands, she used to embrace herself, crossing her arms in a mixed gesture of self-comfort and defensiveness. "...you don't have to be here."
Spencer blinked, taken aback. Even more so when Alsie started trying to carry her bagged things herself, ignoring the fact that he was there. "Al...don't...don't do this. Don't shut me out just because...I won't..." He grabbed for the packed bag Alsie carried, determined to help. His eyes grew wide when she tensed and backed away - only a few inches, but it seemed like a chasm. "Alsie...please. Don't be...don't...be..."
Spencer bit his lip, about to say 'don't be stubborn' to Alsie, despite knowing that it wasn't spite that caused his sister to flinch.
"'Don't be what'? Unfair? Stubborn?" Alsie blurted, glaring at her brother. "What is 'fairness'? Really, tell me. Is it fair that you got to spend all those years with mom and dad, while I...I got..." She swallowed, thinking about the Crawfords and Linnet. About what she had to endure growing up, enough abuse to trigger D.I.D. "...And is it fair that dad practically leaves the room every time you arrive because he's too concerned about how you may take the time he's with me as favoritism? And you never tell him otherwise. I understand he left you and mom, but you still had ten years with him in your life! I had none! And you've had even more time with mom! The woman who forgot I existed since I was born! Yet whenever I make any sort of complaint or remark about her, you defend her." Alsie snarled, barely taking a breath as she continued her tirade. "I'm sorry I don't have the same view of her as you, since I never met her. And going on how you worded what you said earlier, it seems I never will since it'll be too...useless? Too irritating?"
"Tha...Alsie, no. That's not..."
"And to top it all off, you get angry at me for suggesting something that...yes, I know...I get it's impossible. Illegal, even. For you and I to..." She took in a steadying breath, her lips trembling. "And I'm sorry for suggesting it. I just...it's how I feel. How I felt since we were children, playing chess at that park. You..." She touched her scarred right temple, her hand quivering. "The thought - the hope - of meeting you again was what allowed me to endure all the...shit I went through. I can't just forget what I feel, despite knowing we're related. Despite knowing nothing will ever come of it. I just...I'm sorry? All right?"
Alsie dropped her bag, her strength fleeing her along with her anger. Swallowing back her tears, she attempted to rush past Spencer and out of the hospital room, only to be halted by him grabbing her arm.
The next moment he pulled her into a hug.
"...I'm sorry, too." Spencer whispered, wrapping his arms around Alsie and allowing her to cry against his chest.
A/N: What do you readers think so far? BTW, I can't really think of any hints towards the answers to the questions I posed last chapter (the identity of the person in the flashback/memory Alsie had, or the name written in the book James received), but I can say that neither answer is an OC.
I don't plan on having any Spencer/Alsie twincest in this fic (though I might write a Oneshot AU for tumblr just to satisfy my personal desires), but I do feel that having the two deal with the emotional complications arising from their dating briefly in My Life Had Stood would make for some good drama. (The last few paragraphs of this chapter explains the main reason why Alsie is still interested in pursuing Spencer despite being twins.)
