Chapter ten
Holman Farm
725 N. Co. Road 1550
Basco, IL
T+ 27

Spencer

The problem, he thought as they drove through the utterly flat landscape, is that I'm not certain that I'm ready.

He still missed Maeve was the thing. He missed finding her letters at the end of a rough case; he missed hearing her voice on the other end of the phone. He missed having someone out there who utterly understood him, who got his jokes and who followed his rambles. He missed…he missed…

He missed his friend.

He had fallen in love with his friend is what he had done. And now he didn't know if he really wanted to jump headlong into love. He wasn't ready for love. He just wanted a very special sort of friend. But how do you know, he thought? How do you know when someone is that sort of special? How did you know with Maeve?

Because she wrote and called you Dr. Bell; she somehow knew you from the get-go.

As your friend she wouldn't want you alone and lonely forever. She'd want you to be happy. She would.

Wouldn't she?

Maeve, he thought, if you're really still out there listening somehow, give me a sign. Let me know that this will be that magic again. Let me know….let me know that you approve. Let me know that I can move on.

The Holman farm turned out to be in the middle of nowhere. It was a Queen Ann style pile, so popular in the Victorian era, backed up against one of the few features in the otherwise flat landscape, like a wrinkle on a bed sheet. As they pulled up he couldn't help but notice that it looked prosperous and clean. No toys in the yard, everything whitewashed, clean. He also noticed the solar panels on the roofs of the outbuildings, the multiple windmills. "That explains power." He said.

"This property is in the name of a Lukas Brown." Hotch said, reading his pad. "Lukas and his wife had a daughter named Anna, must be his in-laws."

"Good way to hide it." Rossi agreed.

The original plan had been to surround the house, go up to the door with the local sheriff and appeal to reason and the desire to keep the children safe. But as soon as they pulled up and got out the door opened and someone shouted and a familiar figure came flying out. "Mommy! Daddy!" Henry screamed as he threw himself into their arms.

Well. All right then.

He had been followed by an older man who looked like someone popped some lemon juice into his mouth, followed by two young men who scowled and looked like they wanted to perhaps start eating people. All three were openly armed. This provoked the expected response as JJ and Will pulled Henry out of the way. "Put your hands up." The Sheriff said. They asked him to take point, hoping that the Holmans would respect him enough to comply. "You know why we're here."

The three men looked at each other and then led by the eldest they complied.

Once they were secured the Sheriff, a social worker, Carol and Hotch went to the woman standing in the doorway holding a baby in her arms. "Ma'am, I'm afraid you're going to have to come with us. We have people here to look after the children." The Sheriff told her.

"I don't know what's going on." She insisted as the social worker took the baby and she was cuffed. "I swear I don't."

After that it was up to the locals, led by the CARD team. They were the experts. Until they were needed the BAU team gathered around Henry. He wasn't noticeably taller, was noticeably thinner but not dangerously so, and was missing a tooth that had been loose before. But the hardest part was his hair, it had been dyed brown and buzz cut. "Ohhh, I loved his curls." JJ sighed as she ran her hands over her son's head.

"It could be worse." Will pointed out.

"I know, but still."

"We'll get him a wig for Halloween. " Spencer said.

"Spencer!" Henry threw himself into his Godfather's arms, forcing all the air out of his lungs. "Spencer! I missed you! Did I do good?"

"Yeah, you did great! You're a pretty amazing little agent, and very brave too." Henry grinned and nodded and then took his godfather's hand and started tugging him toward the house. "Wait, where are we going?"

"We have to get Susanna, we can't leave her here. She's my friend. We have to take her back home with us and you have to marry her."

Spencer had to dig in his heels to keep from being tugged off his feet. "I do, huh." He asked as everyone chuckled.

"Yeah, you do. 'Cause you're my friend too. We have to go get her."

"How about if I go get her and you stay here with your Mom and Dad, okay? Where will I find her?"

"Okay. You have to go up the stairs and then all the way to the end and then up the stairs and that's her room right there." Henry pointed to a small attic window. "Just remember, you have to help her down the stairs, she can't see."

"I'll remember. You stay here, we'll be right back."

Inside the house was bustling with cops. The rooms were small and there were many of them, the result of centuries of remodeling and adding on. Even with that it all seemed almost painfully neat, as if no children ever lived there. What was even more unnerving was that none of the children were crying. They were all sitting at the table in the dining room, watching all the bustle with big eyes while a social worker tried to explain what was going on to two young women in those long, frilly dresses that mated well with the house

Spencer looked around until he found Hotch. "Has anyone cleared upstairs yet?" Spencer asked.

"I don't know. Going up?" Spencer nodded. "Morgan." He said, indicating that Spencer shouldn't go alone.

Upstairs was a rat's nest of halls and doors. They had to clear every room as they went, just to be on the safe side. The rooms meant for little ones, identified by the presents of bunk beds and cribs were painfully neat and oddly barren, no toys, no cute pictures, little of anything. "These parents are control freaks." Morgan pointed out.

"I wonder if it's this family or something the cult requires." Spencer replied.

As they got to the back of the house the number of children per room shrank, as did the number of beds. "I've been counting." Spencer said as they got to the last room. "I believe the last two rooms held the four oldest girls." They'd had more life in them, decorated a little in a frilly, Victorian country style.

"With one bed in each room?"

"It would prevent…exploration. As would only five minutes behind closed doors.

"A guy who's desperate can get to go that fast, especially at that age."

"Yeah, but can a girl? Remember, a major issue in this cult is controlling female sexuality."

"They why did they leave Susanna alone?"

That was a good question.