Reid was in shock. All he could do was sit in silence against the wall, staring at the spot where he last saw Carter before Turner took her away. The gash in his temple was long forgotten, the blood that had dripped down his jaw slowly drying up, his entire body numb. How long had Turner been waiting in the apartment? Not even Carter had known something was wrong until it was too late. Suddenly the door opened, Morgan and JJ stumbling into the room. "Spence!" JJ exclaimed as she quickly approached him.

"What the hell happened?" Morgan asked.

He had come in expecting a disaster, like he's often seen when Carter's gotten into a fight. But here, there was only a book out of place. "I didn't even hear him come up behind me," Reid said, his voice sounding like it was miles away. "Clara came in, but I never got the chance to warn her before Turner was on top of her."

"Morgan, he chloroformed her," JJ said, lifting the cloth Turner had used.

Morgan ran a hand over his head. "I knew we should have told the team."

"What do you mean?"

"Turner ambushed her back in Nevada. She got the upper hand and he took off, but she didn't want to tell anyone until the kids were found."

"Are you serious? She should have told us!"

"I don't think she thought Turner had the gall to attack twice in one day, let alone at Reid's," he explained. "She thought she had time."

"We need to call the rest of the team and get them here," JJ said, pulling her phone from her pocket.

Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, and Callahan were at Reid's within minutes, JJ already tending to the wound on Reid's head. There was no use calling in law enforcement; BAU knew more about the case than they did anyway. They gave them the information they had, including Turner's attack the day before. "Reid was the weakest link; if he ambushed Carter again, he knew Reid wouldn't be able to stop him."

"I'm sorry Hotch. I should have told you what had happened, even if she didn't want to."

"There's no guarantee that we'd have been able to help her anyway, Morgan. Turner knew he had no chance of getting to Carter with the team around her, and even if she'd told us what had happened in Nevada he was probably prepared for that too," Hotch shook his head. "The only thing we can hope for is that Turner still doesn't know we have any knowledge of who he is."

"Reid, I need you to tell me everything you remember alright?" Rossi coaxed.

Reid shook his head from where he was standing in the bedroom doorway, JJ and Callahan searching the room behind him. "I didn't even hear him come up behind me, everything just went dark. Then Clara was shaking me awake and before she could ask me what had happened he attacked her. I tried to move, I tried to save her, but I just-I couldn't stay awake. The last thing I remember was him carrying her out into the hallway."

"He must have had a car waiting out back, that way he could get her out of here unnoticed," Callahan suggested from over his shoulder.

"What I don't understand is why he didn't just kill her," Hotch questioned. "I mean, that's been his goal the entire time hasn't it? To complete his mission. So why not just finish her off here? Or even in Nevada? He had time to finish the job and leave before Morgan found her."

"He's right; her surviving his attack is what had fueled his rage up until this point. So what changed?"

"Garcia, I need you to get into any file you can on the Ghost Initiative."

"But sir, I thought there weren't any records saved on their missions?"

"Come on baby girl, we both know you'd be able to find anything they're keeping under wraps."

"I'll back you up if anything happens," Hotch pushed. "Also, find everything you can on Dean Turner. I know you've been working on it but I need this to be your main case right now. And I say that for all of us."

"A-alright," she agreed.

"Morgan, JJ, Reid, I need you to go to Carter's apartment. See if there's any clues there she may not have noticed, or is possibly hiding. The rest of you come back with me to the office. We only have a small window and we need to take advantage of it."

"Of course sir."

Hotch, Rossi, Callahan, and Garcia left, but as Morgan and JJ made to follow, Reid couldn't move. "Clara's never been kidnapped before," he whispered, eyes wide. "She's never lost a fight, nobody has ever gotten the upper hand on her, not once! I-I said I was going to help her and I couldn't even stay conscious enough to chase after him!"

"Reid!" Morgan exclaimed, grasping his shoulder tightly. "You have to keep that big brain of yours together alright? It wasn't your fault she was taken. Turner would have done whatever it took to get to her. But right now you are our biggest chance at finding her."

"Why me?"

"Carter trusted you the most," JJ added. "She told you all of her secrets and everything about her past. Maybe you can find some kind of connection through the things she's said to you."

Reid's eyes shifted from JJ back to Morgan before he managed a nod. "O-ok."

"Good, now come on. You know Carter's place better than us," Morgan said, motioning for him to follow them.

Carter felt like she'd been buried with bags upon bags of sand, her limbs heavy. Her head was cloudy, her throat dry, but slowly she began to wake up. She didn't know how long she'd been out but she did at least remember what had happened. It took a few minutes for her vision to clear and for the fog to lift. God it had been years since she was last chloroformed; her mouth tasted like she'd been chewing on a batch of old pennies. Her wrists had been strapped to two separate chains that were dangling her from the ceiling, her toes just barely able to touch the floor. After a few minutes she started to realize where she was; the old wood walls, rusted training equipment stacked in the corner. This was where they had been trained, a secret CIA house stashed deep in the Tongass National Forest in Alaska. The perfect place to train in stealth and to prepare for extreme weather conditions. In all honesty she was surprised the lights where still on in this place. Why had he taken her all the way out here though? Why not just finish her off in the alley behind the apartments? Public places seemed to be his thing when it came to her.

Suddenly she heard footsteps coming from above her, the door to the training room opening before Turner walked down the steps. "Good, you're awake."

"Why am I still alive Dean?" she asked, voice raspy.

Turner however diverted the questioned, motioning to the room. "Are you surprised? I didn't think this place would still be standing after the CIA abandoned it," he said, fingers running along the training equipment.

"I thought Mother Nature would have taken it back after five years."

"Almost six now," Turner corrected her.

Figuring he wasn't going to give her the answers she needed, she changed direction. "Why take me all the way back here? I thought you'd want to leave every trace of the CIA behind you."

Turner shrugged as he finally approached her. "I thought it was appropriate considering our predicament."

"Predicament?"

"I'm going to ask you something Clara-Grace, and I expect you to be honest alright? Right answers get rewards, while lies get punishment."

Carter's eyes narrowed as she watch his hand run over a worn leather handle that was resting inside a wooden box. As he slowly lifted it from its resting place the sound of rattling chains followed suit. Instantly Carter knew what it was, the Qilinbian being an infamous training tool while she had been here for two years. The end of that whip was stained with her blood, Lena's blood, Charlie's blood, and even Turner's blood, the evidence of its fury scarred along their backs. Even as he began to swing it low at his side Carter remained emotionless, her eyes never leaving Turner's. "What do you want to know?"

"Where had they been hiding you while you recovered?"

"A secret base up in the Alps. Nobody but a handful of people knew where I was."

"How long did it take you to recover?"

"A total of three months."

"Physical therapy?"

"None was required."

"Good, I'm glad you made a full recovery," he said, impressed. Carter fought back every urge to roll her eyes. "Were you happy when the director told you we were going to be disbanded?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Were you happy we had been disbanded?"

"No."

With one quick flick of his wrist Turner whipped the chain, the end sharply snapping against her hip. Carter bit into her cheek, biting back a yelp. "You never used to flinch at that," he said almost curiously.

"Well, it's been a few years since that thing and I met face to face," she grit out.

"I'll ask you again, were you happy our team was being ripped apart."

"No."

Once again Turner snapped the whip, the tail slashing against her side and tearing through her shirt. Carter winced, forcing herself to take deep breaths through the pain to keep herself from screaming. "Stop lying to me, Clara. Once more, and I want the truth!" he roared. "Were you happy-"

"Yes!" Carter cut him off. "I jumped for joy as soon as the director told me it was over."

"Why?"

"Because for the first time in my entire existence I was going to get the chance at a normal life."

"You didn't agree with what our team did?"

"I didn't agree with what we had become, Dean."

That same look of curiosity flashed across his face again, something that hadn't gone unnoticed by Carter. Why was he so interested in all of this? Turner was never one to really care about personal feelings. "Who was the one who backed out of the team?"

"I don't know." The sound of the chain making contact with her skin echoed through the room. "Fuck!"

"Answer me! I know you know who it was. Which one of them backed out? Was it Lena? Charlie? Both of them?"

"I don't know, Dean."

Another snap, and another. "Tell me who it was!" he roared.

After each whip Carter desperately attempted to keep herself together, even despite the blood she could feel dripping from the stinging of her skin. God, please let the team be close to finding her.

Carter had made Reid a spare key a few weeks after they got together. He slid it into the lock, his hand reaching out to catch the penny, before he lead JJ and Morgan inside. Everything was just how they had left it that morning, Carter's brush still sitting on the side table. "We need to spread out. Maybe she left us some kind of clue as to where she could be."

As JJ and Morgan separated, Reid hesitated. He'd been in this apartment a million times, even helped put it back together after Turner ransacked it, but he had no idea where to even start looking. Like Morgan said though he was their best chance; he knew Carter better than anyone else on the team. "Come on, think Spencer," he muttered to himself as he closed his eyes, letting his brain take off.

Carter was a very secretive person and would go to great lengths to hide something important just in case one of her enemies came looking. She wasn't a safe-keeping kind of girl no, she was a hiding in plain sight type just like in those cheesy spy movies she liked so much. Now where on earth would that spot be? Reid made his way into her room, walking straight passed JJ and into Carter's closet. He began to move her clothes away from the wall, moving boxes from the floor, until he spotted the vent tucked in the corner. He pulled at it, wiggling it a few times before it finally popped loose. "What is it Spence?" JJ asked curiously, Morgan peering over her shoulder.

Reid reached into the floor, moving his hand around until he felt his fingers brush something solid. Immediately he pulled the object from the vent, a leather notebook resting in his hands. "Is that a journal?"

"I think so," Reid said. As he stared down at the worn cover, leather ties wrapped around the outside to keep it closed, a pen tangled in the strings, he began to feel very uncomfortable. Yes, Carter was missing and this could hold the key to finding her, but it was personal to her. "JJ you read it."

Although a little confused, JJ didn't question it as she took the journal from his hands and loosened the ties enough to pull open the cover. "It dates back to December of 2014."

"That's when she first started working with the BAU," Morgan said.

JJ scanned through the entries; she'd written at least once every other week, the entries doubling around October, and tripling after Garcia's Christmas party. That's when her entries almost entirely consisted of Reid, his name scribbled down multiple times through the pages. "She wrote a lot about you Spence," JJ couldn't help her smile, Reid's heart skipping.

"Anything about Dean?"

"She wrote about him once the day after Valentine's Day, the day after she saw him in New York," she said, going through the entry. "She keeps calling him a ghost back from the dead and that he's going to ruin everything she has with the BAU."

"Looks like her last entry was yesterday," Morgan read over her shoulder. "All she wrote was that she knew he was closing in on her, she could feel it. Even Carter knew she was going to get caught; it was just a matter of time."

As JJ flipped through the blank pages something fell from the back cover, landing at her feet. "It has your name on it Spencer," JJ said, handing it to him.

Reid stared at the familiar hand writing, gingerly taking it between his fingers. Morgan immediately nudged JJ who closed the journal. "We'll give you a minute," he said, both of them leaving the room.

He made his way out into her room, easing himself onto the bed, all the while never taking his eyes off of the envelope. Finally, after what felt like a decade, he slowly ripped it open before pulling out the letter inside. It was a single page, written in her hand, and just by her handwriting he could tell she wrote this in sadness, doing her best to cover it up. This was intended to be her last good-bye.

Spencer,

If you're reading this then shit hit the fan. Whether that means I'm dead, or Dean is holding me somewhere, either way it's not good. So, in case things end up with me six feet under, I want to leave you with a good-bye just in case I'm unable to give you the one you deserve.

I will always remember the very first time we met; it was December 15th. You were talking to Rossi and all I could do was watch you. Hotch was giving me a tour but I had already tuned him out. I wish that I knew, at that time, it wasn't fear I was feeling towards you, it was something much better. I'll always remember the very first time my lips touched yours, and every kiss after that, how warm they made me feel. I will always remember every movie we saw, every theater we attended, and every book you've ever read to me. My favorite memories however will be the way we fit so perfectly together; I guess opposites really do attract huh?

I promised this wouldn't ever happen to you again, losing someone you care about, and it kills me I couldn't keep that promise to you. Even if this is the end, and I never do get to you see again, I want you to know how much I love you. Because I do Spencer; I'm pretty sure I have loved you since the beginning. My biggest regret is never saying it out loud to you though. I just hope you were able to see it when we were together.

This isn't the end for you, Dr. Spencer Reid. Endings, no matter how terrible, always open doors for new beginnings. And you are full of great things that the world just hasn't seen yet.

Je t'aime mon génie. À la lune et retour.

Clara-Grace

Spencer didn't know he was crying until the drops fell onto the paper that was clenched in his shaking hands. Even Carter knew there was a chance they wouldn't get to her in time so she was sure to leave behind one final good-bye for him. He immediately folded the paper, taking extra care to slide it back into its envelope, before quickly drying his eyes. No, he wouldn't let this be the end. He cared about her too much for that, and he was going to be sure to tell her that in person. As he made to stand however he spotted something out of the corner of his eye sticking out from beneath the drawer of her nightstand. He quickly pulled it from its hiding place only to realize it was a picture, four people standing in a row. Immediately he recognized Carter standing side by side with Dean, both with hardened looks as they posed for the shot. Who he assumed was Charlie however had his arm around the other girl, Lena, both with huge smiles on their faces. "JJ? Morgan? I think I found something."

"What is it?" Morgan asked as Reid walked into the sitting room. "Is that Carter?"

"I think this was the first, and probably only shot of the Ghost Initiative," Reid explained.

"Judging by how young she looks I have to assume this was when they first started training. But I can't tell where they're at; a cabin maybe? They're completely surrounded by trees."

"Maybe Garcia can help us out; come on, let's meet back up with the rest of the team."

They returned to the BAU to find Rossi and Callahan rummaging through old CIA file boxes. "Any luck?" Rossi asked.

"We found a picture; we're hoping Garcia can tell us where it was taken," Morgan explained. "How about you guys?"

"We've gotten nothing. The CIA sent over some possible case files Carter might have worked on, but none of these sound like her. It's a dead end," Callahan sighed.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for an Aaron Hotchner," a voice called behind them.

An older gentlemen probably in his seventies approached them; he was wearing a button up shirt and khakis, his white hair balding. Before the team could question him Hotch appeared from his office. "Director, I'm glad you could make it."

"Call me Mark, Aaron. I retired from the CIA years ago," Mark said, shaking Hotch's hand.

"You were the director of the CIA when Carter joined," JJ's eyes narrowed.

"I'm assuming they know everything?"

"Carter disclosed to the entire team about the Ghost Initiative," Hotch explained.

"Of course," Mark nodded. "I would like you to know that I regret what I did to her, the things she was put through. As director I thought what I was doing was for the good of the country, but in reality it was torturous to a human being."

"Just help us find her," Morgan said shortly. "We want her back home."

"That's why I'm here; I want to help in any way possible."

"Here's a picture we found in her apartment. Do you know where it was taken at?" Reid asked, handing it to him.

Mark instantly nodded. "That's the training camp they were stationed at for two years before they were sent overseas."

"Where is it?"

"All the way up in Alaska. We built it in the middle of the Tongass National Forest; not only did they have the isolation, but it was an elemental challenge as well."

"Could you tell us where it is?"

Mark however shook his head. "It's been over eight years since I last saw that place; it's been shut down since their training ended. I barely remember what I had for breakfast yesterday so there's no way I'd be able to remember coordinates for that old place."

"It's alright. Our tech analyst might be able to help. Come on," Hotch said, taking the picture before making his way for Garcia's cave. He didn't bother knocking as he pushed his way inside, setting the picture onto the desk next to her. "I need you to find the coordinates of this cabin. It's an old CIA base and there's a chance this was recorded on file somewhere, despite not having been in use."

Garcia's fingers flew while Hotch was talking, multiple coordinates appearing on her screen. "I have a few training bases in Alaska, but none have been shut down."

"It wouldn't have been listed as a training facility. It was listed as a-dammit what was it? It was a-a temporary agent housing!"

Garcia's fingers flew again, only one coordinate popping up this time. "I've got it! A special agent housing was opened in 2007 but was shut down in 2010. I have sent the coordinate to your phones-now."

"Hotch, what if she isn't there? What is Dean has her here somewhere?" Callahan questioned.

"We'll need to split up then. Reid, Morgan, and JJ come with me. We'll need to alert officials closest to the forest to be ready for us and to have rescue on hand. We don't know what we'll find when we get there. Callahan, Mark, Rossi, and Garcia stay here. Follow any other leads you find, understand? Do not leave any stone unturned," Hotch ordered.

"Let us know what you find, please," Callahan said before half of the team bolted from the room.

Turner was gone. After realizing she wasn't going to give up the information he wanted, he stormed from the room. The house had gone silent after she heard the front door slam so she had assumed he left the house entirely, leaving her bloody stump hanging in the training room. Despite her best attempts at staying awake, the dull throb of pain through her body lulled her to sleep, her body hanging limp from the chains for who knows how long. She dreamt though, although the longer it went on it felt more like a memory. She was in Tokyo, civilians moving quickly around her as they bustled to their destinations. At first she thought she was alone but there, standing like idiots, were Lena and Charlie. Lena's long brown hair was wrapped up in a braided bun as she posed with Charlie in front of a giant Hello Kitty character, shouting for her to take the picture. That's how she always remembered those two; smiling, taking pictures to remember each day by. God, she missed them. More than anything she regretted not getting closer with them.

The sound of another slamming door jerked her awake however, Dean's heavy footsteps practically pounding inside her skull. God, she felt like she was having a bad hangover. The sun was coming up though, which meant it had been a few hours since the end of her whipping session. Dean seemed calm again as he took his earlier position in front of her, the whip once again clutched in his hand. "Clara, I don't like doing this. You know that," he said, his words gentle. "Please, I just want to know who it was that betrayed us. Who destroyed what we had."

Carter watched him grip the leather handle tighter in his fist. She wasn't sure if it was because she was exhausted from the pain, or if she was just tired of keeping it a secret, but she gave in. "It was me."

Disbelief washed over him, his eyes widening in shock. "W-what?"

"I went to the director and told him I wanted out," she breathed. "It was my fault the team was disbanded. It wasn't Lena, it wasn't Charlie, it was me, Dean."

He was silent for a long time before suddenly he raised the whip. Carter waited for the sharp pain again but instead of lashing her with it, Turner snapped the whip to the side of the room, breaking the latch that was holding her chains to the ceiling. Instantly her body crumpled, hitting the ground with a painful thump. She let out a yelp of agony as every cut and bruise screamed in pain at the violent contact, writhing into a ball as she begged for the ache to stop. "Why," Turner demanded as he slowly approached her, "tell me why."

Carter waited a few seconds, finally willing her body to sit up, her hands barely holding up the weight of her torso. "Do you remember the last case we worked together?"

Turner nodded. "The stock broker from Belgium. An extermination to be made to look like an accident."

"Everything was going according to plan. We broke the propane line before lining the house with fuses that would burn up in the blaze, being sure to set the detonator onto the front door. We waited until Charlie gave us the go ahead, and we turned the propane back on. Sure enough there was the target, right on schedule. While you went to get the car I watched him park, getting out to open the door for his wife. I expected them to head inside then, but that's not what happened," she said, wheezing against the burning in her lungs. "Instead, the wife goes to the back door of the car and out comes their six year old son."

"That's impossible; they never had a son. It wasn't recorded in their file."

"I know, trust me. I was in just as much disbelief as you are. The wife whispered something to the kid and his eyes-God, the kid's eyes lit up like the fourth of July and he took off for the front door. Before I knew what I was doing I was screaming at him but it was too late; as soon as he turned the handle they were all gone, engulfed by the explosion," she whispered. "His name was Tristan, but we had never seen his name in our mission folder or anywhere else. We don't kill or hurt children, it was something we told the CIA from the beginning and yet, there he was. How many more kids had we killed Dean? How many kids have we left orphaned because we didn't know they existed? The director lied to us, and I just-I couldn't be a part of it anymore."

Dean was speechless as he stared down at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to after the director gave the official disband on the initiative."

"You were the cause of all of this. You ruined everything!" With a hard kick to the stomach Carter rolled, the chains tangling around her before the straps ripped from her wrists. "I trusted you!"

"I know," she coughed harshly, arms shaking as she pushed herself up again.

"My entire life was destroyed because of what you did! You took everything I had ever known away from me! Everything!" Turner reached into his back pocket then, withdrawing a pistol before aiming it at her. "You know, I regretting having to kill you. Out of all three of you, you were the one I came to relate to the most. The one I trusted the most. Yet all along you had been the one who stabbed me in the back!"

Carter moved then, slamming all of her weight into his knees. He hit the floor with a painful thud, the gun sliding a few feet away. She made a desperate dive for it but he had a hold on her leg, sharply dragging her back. He got a good punch into her jaw but she retaliated with a kick to the face, making a desperate scramble for the gun. Just as she grabbed it however Turner was on top of her, gripping her wrists to keep her from aiming at him. They rolled across the floor, getting punches in here and there. Turner slammed her arms into the ground multiple times before finally flinging the gun from her grip. Carter finally shoved him off, both staring at each other before making a jump for the gun again. Turner however grabbed the barrel just as her fingers brushed the grip, immediately aiming it at her head. "Go ahead, Dean. Shoot me," she said, slowly rising to her feet again. "My team knows about the Ghost Initiative. They know about you, what you did to Lena and Charlie. Even if you don't kill me you can't hide anymore, my team will find you and trust me, they will rip you apart."

"You told them? You defiled the secrecy of our team and-"

"You killed our team, Dean!" she cut him off. "You brutally beat Lena, breaking every bone in her face and rupturing one of her eyes before you finally snapped her neck. Then you hung her off of the side of the CIA's head office, dangling her over the director's office window. Even worse you shoved a grenade into Charlie's mouth! Do you understand how hard it was being the only one who could identify him based on the pieces that were left? You brutally murdered two innocent people!"

Tears had welled in her eyes as she screamed at him, Turner's brows stitching together. "Why are you crying?"

"What?"

"When you helped pull Lena from the CIA office, you shed no tears. You had no expression at all when you identified her corpse. Same with Charlie; you didn't cry. You hardly spoke at all. Even as I was standing over you with a pistol to your head, you made no plea for mercy or begged me to stop. Yet here you are, crying over deaths that happened almost two years ago. Why?"

"You and I got along so well because we could relate to each other. From a young age we learned how to hunt, how to kill, how to survive on our own. There was no room for friends or even family for that matter; emotional ties to people got in the way of the mission. So, we hardened ourselves, learned how to bury emotions to finish the race. That's why we got along so well; the mission was the only important thing in our lives, and no one was going to stand in the way of that," she explained. "After I joined the BAU however, that thought process started to change. I learned about teamwork, working together to finish the mission instead of alone. They showed me friendship, sacrifice, love. Before I knew it I wasn't just trying to find the bad guy, I was making sure my team made it out alive. For once in my life I was thinking about others instead of just myself."

"You've learned all of this just in the year and a half with them?" he asked, Carter nodding with a faint smile. "I didn't think-I didn't think it was possible to change who we were. We were soldiers, fighting for the cause. But the way you explain it, it makes me sound almost-almost-"

"Robotic."

"Machines," Turner whispered, the gun slowly lowering down to his side. "That's what the CIA created in us, isn't it?"

It was in that moment Carter realized why Turner didn't kill her back in Virginia and took her hostage. He saw how she acted around the team, how different it was compared to how it was when they worked for the CIA, and he needed to understand why. His emotions were finally beginning to free themselves and he couldn't handle it; that's probably why he snapped the day he killed Lena and Charlie. He was scared. Before Carter could question him anymore however, something slammed loudly from upstairs, multiple footsteps spreading through the house. Instantly Carter knew who it was, her heart racing. No, not now! It was too late though, that wild look immediately returning to Turner's eyes as he sharply raised the pistol again. He had at least fifteen rounds in that clip, plenty of ammo to level the team and herself. "Do it, Dean."

"Do what?"

"Shoot me. I mean, that's been the mission all along, right? Finishing what you started after you killed Lena and Charlie," she babbled, praying she'd keep his attention, and his aim, on her and only her.

The basement door kicked open then, everyone running down the stairs behind her. She couldn't see them, but she didn't have to look to know Reid was there. She could practically feel him standing there. "Dean Turner, put the gun down now!" Hotch ordered.

"They care about you," Turner whispered, eyes finally returning to Carter's.

"It's their downfall, their weakness, and it puts their lives in jeopardy every day, but-"Carter couldn't help the smile that broke out across her face, "-it's what makes them human."

"We're not, are we?"

"I'm warning you, put the gun down now!" Morgan repeated Hotch's order.

"No. We haven't been human for years. We're machines, trained to do one thing and one thing only."

"To kill."

"I'm afraid so. People like us need to be put down, Dean. We're too dangerous for this world."

"Last chance Turner!" Morgan called again. "Lower your weapon!"

"They're going to kill me."

"Yes, but it's ok. You have to complete the mission, remember?" she smiled. It wasn't his fault. None of this was. Their minds had been molded and shaped to be the perfect beings from a young age, tricked into believing there was only one goal in life; to obey, to perform, to kill, no matter what. Carter was glad she had been saved though, thanked her stars every day that she had been found by the BAU, or else maybe it would be her standing in Turner's shoes. "Your mind won't let you back down, it never has, and it's ok. I forgive you, for everything."

Turner nodded, falling quiet for a few seconds before his lips twitched into a smile she'd never seen before. "Good-bye, Clara-Grace."

"Good-bye."

Then, there were gunshots.

Carter felt two pierce her chest, six riddling Turner before they both crumpled to the floor. Immediately Carter saw the light die in his eyes as he fell mere inches from her; he was finally free. Reid was the first one to reach her, Hotch kicking the gun away before checking Turner for a pulse, Morgan's voice blaring over his com for the ambulance that was on stand-by. "Clara," Reid stared in horror down at the blood pooling on her shirt.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have-have told you. I'm so sorry."

"I have to apply pressure and try to stop the bleeding," he said, more to himself as he shed his jacket. He balled it up before pressing it down onto her chest, Carter letting out a sharp gasp of pain. "Stay with me, please."

Carter could feel the darkness closing in and suddenly it was like Déjà vu all over again. She was dying, once again because of Turner, but at least this time she wasn't alone. As her breath started to shorten, the pain slowly beginning to numb, she smiled at him and folded her hand over his. "I-I love you, Spencer-Spencer Reid."

"No, no come on, I need you to stay with me ok? I love you, do you understand that? You can't leave, not now. Clara? Clara! Morgan I'm losing her!"

Their voices began to fade out, sounding further and further away until everything went dark.