Variation on a Theme
A Criminal Minds/House, M.D. Crossover
A/N: Hello readers! First, I'd just like to thank ALL of you for the wonderful response I got for the last chapter, I was really, truly touched, and I'm so thrilled it was well-received. Thank you so much for continuing to support this story. Here's the next chapter, and I really hope you enjoy, as parts of this proved a bit tricky. Please let me know what you think!
Chapter 14: Variation 13
"I remember black skies, and lighting all around me/I remembered each flash, as time began to blur/Like a startling sign, that fate had finally found me/But your voice was all I heard, did I get what I deserve?" ~ New Divide (Linkin Park)
Emily thought that Hotch's voice sounded very far away when he finally spoke, almost as if he was standing at the other end of the hallway rather than directly next to her. He sounded almost robotic, and it was clear he was trying to keep the listless quality of his tone, determined to show Kelly that he was in charge.
"Dr. Reid is fine," Hotch replied, using his free hand to beckon them all into an empty room nearby so that he could put the phone on speaker. He closed the door after they filed in, Dr. Cameron and Dr. Foreman with them. "What have you done to Dr. Chase?"
"Come now Aaron, do you really expect me to answer honestly?" she said. "You aren't being honest about poor little Spencer, why would I be honest about what I've done to Dr. Chase?"
"Because you want to tell us what you've done," Hotch answered, slowly starting to sound like the Hotch Emily knew, but the trauma of what had just happened with Reid was still evident in his expression, as it was with all of them. "You relish in bragging about what you're doing while we search for you."
"On my terms only do I relish it," Kelly said, voice lowering a few octaves in anger. "You discovered my little secret about the pharmacy, I see. But you still don't know what I poisoned the medicine with, do you? The world-renowned Dr. House can't figure this one out, and I daresay the clock is ticking."
"What have you done with Samantha Rogers?" Hotch questioned, refusing to give in to her probing.
"If you must know, Dr. Chase is alive," Kelly replied, blatantly ignoring his question. Emily watched as JJ wrapped a snug arm around Cameron's shoulders, while Foreman moved instinctively closer to her, eyebrows furrowed. "Although," she chuckled, sounding unbearably smug. "He has lost quite a bit of blood. I do believe I might have… broken his spirit, as they say."
Emily saw Cameron's mouth open before she spoke, saw her slipping from JJ's grasp, saw the tears glistening in her green eyes.
"How dare you!" she exclaimed, looking very much as if she was going to smack the cell phone out of Hotch's hand. "What kind of monster are you? Give him back to me, please, I'll do anything!" She broke into sobs which sounded both furious and desolate, making the rest of her sentence incomprehensible.
Before Hotch could respond or control the sudden outburst that Emily was surprised hadn't happened before, Kelly spoke again, her voice icy with danger.
"You know what I want, Dr. Cameron," she said. "And the BAU refuses to do as I ask."
Cameron looked ready to respond, but at Hotch's glance, JJ gently took her elbow and escorted her from the room.
"So," Kelly continued, acting as if Cameron's outburst had never occurred. "What have you found out about me, Aaron?"
Emily watched as Hotch paused, thinking for a split second before responding. On one hand, probing her too much might put Chase in danger, but on the other, it would also help them find more clues that would lead to both his rescue and Reid's recovery.
"I know that your father was a brilliant man, and that he taught at Princeton," Hotch began, careful with his words and his tone. "And that he was gone more than he was at home, that you suffered through lots of family counseling. That must have been hard on you. If you let us, we could get you the help you need."
"Don't pretend to be sympathetic toward me," Kelly hissed. "I'm smarter than most of the idiots you usually deal with."
"That's why you latched onto Reid," Hotch continued, still calm as he altered his approach slightly. "He embodied all the good qualities of your father, he was an academic, he even looked like a younger version of him, but their rejections were hard on you. You killed your father in that car wreck by rigging the brakes, your mother was just collateral damage to you, and now you want to kill Reid or otherwise force him to succumb to your will to pay for his rejection. He's a surrogate for your father, just like those young men you killed were surrogates for Reid."
Kelly was silent for a solid thirty seconds, and Emily noticed Hotch's frown deepen.
"You think you're so intelligent, don't you Aaron? You don't know the first thing about my oh so brilliant father!" she exclaimed, her voice burning with indignation. "You have no proof I killed my parents…you have no proof I killed those men. And you won't find it. I will win in the end."
Before Hotch could respond, however, House appeared on the other side of the glass, looking perplexed. He entered, opened his mouth to speak, then saw the phone in Hotch's hand and fell silent, looking very much as though doing so was physically painful.
"By the way, Agent Hotchner," Kelly said. She was no longer shouting, but the cold outrage in her voice was as clear as day. "Do you know how easy it is to hack into pharmaceutical records? I do believe Dr. Cuddy had to approve Dr. House's order for…what was it? Propofol? I do believe that's used to put people into medically induced comas."
Emily had only seen Hotch lost for words once, and that had only been for a few seconds when he realized Foyet had lured Haley and Jack into his trap.
This was the second.
"I'm hiding in plain sight," she said, and it was clear she was talking to the entire team now. "Garcia's computers won't find me, pretty little JJ's press conferences won't help, Rossi's and Gideon's years of experience won't be enough, even if Prentiss called in her Interpol connections for a favor, it wouldn't be useful." She paused, and when she spoke, it was almost as if she were physically in the room, turning to stare at Morgan. "And no matter how many walls you punch, Derek, it won't save Spencer from me." She paused a second time, speaking again to Hotch. "And you, Aaron, see saving Dr. Reid as a way to atone for not making it in time to save your ex-wife. It's a pity you'll have to deal with that failure again."
The phone went dead, and Rossi moved first, daring enough to take the phone from Hotch's frozen hand and close it before resting a hand on the unit chief's shoulder. Emily locked eyes with Gideon momentarily, watching as he wiped the dust off the profiling cogs in his brain, which he'd likely never been able to shut off completely. Morgan looked furious, but the pained expression in his eyes spoke to how raw they all felt. Dr. Foreman peered out of the glass as JJ returned with Cameron, having given her a bottle of water and several tissues. Prentiss felt a sudden wave of overpowering nausea at the thought that they really might lose Reid for good, but tried to suppress it, tried desperately to keep her head on straight and pull whatever clues she could from this latest phone call and put it together with what they already knew. But it was Garcia who spoke first.
"I'm getting access from Dr. Cuddy to the hospital's mainframe. I need to figure out how that demon woman got access to those records and prevent it from happening again. And I'm setting up in Reid's room," she said. "All I need is a table and juice for my laptop. Maybe his genius will rub off on me."
"Baby girl," Morgan said. "He isn't…"
"They say sometimes people in comas can still hear you," Garcia interrupted, and she was calmer than she'd been in hours, determined. She looked over at Foreman. "Isn't that true?"
"There's been some evidence that they can, yes," he replied, looking as though he couldn't quite believe all these happenings were real. "Whether it's a trauma induced coma or if it's medically induced.
"I don't want to leave him alone," Garcia continued. "If he can hear us, I don't want him to think we all left him. I couldn't stand it." She turned to Cameron and squeezed one of her hands lightly. "I promise I will do everything in my power to help find your husband. I just need to do it from in there. It won't affect my quality of work…in fact, it will probably make me more productive."
"I'll get you whatever you need," Cameron acquiesced, returning the squeeze. "And tell the nurses not to bother you about it. But the ones in the ICU are usually understanding."
"In any case," House said, eyes momentarily intent on Hotch, as if Kelly's comments about Haley had suddenly made something about the unit chief very clear to him. "The nurses know better than to argue with me about my patients."
"Prentiss," Hotch said, speaking up now. "Did Princeton say you could remove the records temporarily?"
"They did," she replied. "And even if they hadn't, I would have made them see reason. I'll go over there now and bring them back so we can go over them together."
"She's clearly sensitive about her father," Hotch said. "We need to look for places that connect her with him, possibly an old address that is missing from the databases Garcia has searched." He then bid Garcia to open the Northern Virginia murder files and ask Dr. Cuddy to print copies as quickly as possible.
"What did William Reid say?" he asked, turning to JJ.
"He and Diana will be here in an hour," she said, wrenching her eyes from the direction of Reid's room back to Hotch, and Emily found herself reaching for her friend's hand. "He said Diana spoke about five words on the plane."
A pall of solemn silence wrapped itself around the room and all its occupants, thick and suffocating. Emily wished Reid were here to fill it, wished he were here to rattle off statistics, or let her win at cards, to talk about their common love of literature. She felt House's eyes on her as she glanced back in the direction of Reid's room, likely remembering her outburst as she'd stormed into his office and told him the story about the Tobias Hankel incident. Her protective instincts always flared whenever anyone threatened her team, and those instincts rose even higher where Reid was concerned; they'd almost lost him one too many times. Damn you Spencer Reid, she silently cursed. Do you know what this is doing to us? We're supposed to be objective, we're supposed to keep a clear head, and now all that's been thrown out the window. Do you even know what would happen if we lost you?
"I know that all of us are worried," Hotch said, breaking through the wall, his voice so unexpected that it nearly made Emily jump. "Because we are in danger of losing people we care about deeply. We're tired and we're frustrated, but in order to save Reid and Dr. Chase, we have to stay focused." His voice had its usual stern quality, but a genuine warmth cut through it, bringing everyone back into the present moment.
"I'll be in my office for a while longer," House said. "But sometimes I think better at home, so in that case, I'll have my cell phone, as Cameron and Foreman are well aware of." He turned to his team, and Emily could tell as he looked at Cameron that arguing with her to go home would be futile. "After I leave, I want updates on his vitals, the treatment, ideas, anything." He then turned to Hotch. "Cameron and Foreman will keep you apprised of the situation, and if something new happens, I'll let you know. If you…" he uncharacteristically stumbled over his words. "If you find any leads on Chase or that bitch, let me know."
Hotch nodded, and there was a moment of unspoken solidarity between the two men who were trying, in their own and very different ways, to save young men who were practically surrogate sons to them, and in turn hoped to keep their teams from crumbling.
Morgan walked quickly down the hallway toward Reid's room, coffee in hand. He knew he should be getting more sleep, but when he lay down he found that his mind wouldn't shut off. He wondered if that was how Reid felt all the time. The perpetual knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach the closer he got to his comatose friend's room, feeling as if he had very persistent heartburn. Dr. House, Dr. Cameron, and Dr. Foreman had gone back to their conference room to do a differential, and Morgan could only pray an answer would come, because he didn't know what he would do, didn't know what the team would do, if Reid died. The mere thought of it made him want to drop where he stood, and so he tried to push the idea from his mind. Morgan had felt an intense need to protect the kid ever since his first day at the BAU, and that feeling had never ceased, even if Reid had more than proved he could take care of himself. But the truth was, Reid had knack for attracting trouble. One thing was for certain; when he got his hands on this Kelly Sinclair, she would regret the day she first thought of her twisted, sadistic plan. He glanced at his coffee when he reached Reid's room, fervently wishing he could have brought a second cup along. The sliding glass door was cracked open, but Morgan pulled his hand back upon hearing a gentle voice singing on the other side.
A voice that sounded just like Jason Gideon.
The words sounded vaguely familiar to Morgan, and he was startled for a moment at how beautiful Gideon's voice was. He supposed it shouldn't have surprised him; Gideon had an intense love of art and music, often spending hours at the Smithsonian and listening to classical music or old Broadway songs on the ancient record player in his office. He remembered when the entire team had gathered to watch Charlie Chaplin on the film reel, how JJ had thrown popcorn at Reid's head, how everyone had laughed uproariously, how Gideon had looked upon them all with a proud, benign smile. He noticed that Gideon was grasping Reid's hand, and Morgan leaned in closer, careful to remain silent as Gideon's voice floated through the air, the notes of a desperate prayer on his lips.
God on high/hear my prayer/In my need/You have always been there
He is young/He's afraid/Let him rest/Heaven Blessed/Bring him home/Bring him home/Bring him home
He's like the son I might have known/If God had granted me a son/The summers die one by one/How soon they fly/On and on/And I am old and will be gone
Bring him peace/Bring him joy/He is young/He is only a boy
You can take/You can give/Let him be/Let him live/If I die/Let me die/Let him live/Bring him home/Bring him home/Bring him home
Morgan felt his breath catch in his chest, watching as Gideon rested his head on the metal bar of Reid's bed, his soft, unearthly tenor shaking, dying, and turning to ash as he finished the song. He knew he was intruding on his ex-boss' privacy, but was unable to look away, unable to move. Gideon rarely showcased his vulnerability, even one on one, but Morgan had seen the traces of his gentle nature during cases, especially when they involved children, had seen how tender he'd been with Reid after the Tobias Hankel incident, soothing him when he'd woken up from nightmares during his stay in the hospital. He'd witnessed for himself how close Reid and Gideon had been, how they'd been almost like father and son, but this…this spoke volumes to how much Gideon still loved his mentee…still loved them all despite his estrangement. Morgan felt the rock-solid encasing he'd built around his heart that had anything to do with even the mention of Gideon, crack open. Gideon lifted his head up, and Morgan heard him sigh as he leaned back in his chair. Not entirely sure of what he was doing, and mildly afraid of Gideon's reaction, Morgan slid the door open and stepped inside.
"Les Miserables?" he questioned as Gideon turned around to face him, eyes widening slightly in surprise.
"Oh, I didn't know you were there," Gideon replied, recovering from his mild shock. "You know Broadway?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and looking a little astounded.
"Not really," Morgan said, closing the door firmly behind him. "But that's my Mom's favorite show. I took her and my sisters to see it for her birthday last year. I remembered the lyrics. I guess Reid's eidetic memory is rubbing off on me," he joked.
Gideon nodded, looking once again at Reid before looking back at Morgan, a marked silence falling between them for several moments.
"What did you do with Garcia?" he asked. "She was pretty intent on staying here."
"She had to go compile copies of the files from the Virginia murders," Gideon said, the smallest smile on his face as he spoke of the technical analyst. "She made me swear on my life to stay in this spot until she got back."
"I'm sorry for…breaking down on you earlier," Morgan said, leaning one shoulder against the wall, the memory fresh in his mind. Remembering how Gideon had instantly stepped up to embrace him and how he hadn't fought against it, no matter how many people were looking on, no matter how furious he was at Gideon. "And sorry for my… less than friendly greeting when you got here."
"You were angry," Gideon replied, and Morgan felt that once familiar feeling of the man's eyes penetrating through his very soul. "You had every right to be. I would be, if I were you."
Morgan was taken aback by this statement, but Gideon's tone was honest, devoid of any bitterness.
"It shook us all up, you leaving," Morgan heard himself admitting. "It shook me up. It shook Reid up. It even shook Hotch up."
"I know," Gideon said, his voice almost a whisper. Morgan could have sworn his eyes were glistening, but he let it pass, saddened by how frayed Gideon's voice sounded. "And I'm sorry."
"Are you…" Morgan hesitated slightly. "Are you happy?"
"I'm getting there," Gideon said, meeting his eyes, and Morgan saw a glint of the admiration he had always craved from Gideon resting within them.
Morgan's eyes turned back to Reid, watching his chest rise and fall, the noises of the various machines echoing off the walls. He looked even younger than he was, and Morgan wanted nothing more than for him to sit up and tell him every random fact about Star Trek, Dr. Who, or classic literature that had accumulated in his brain.
"Can you tell me about him?" Gideon asked, voice stronger now. "Tell me what he's like these days?"
"Gideon, he's still Reid," Morgan answered, confused. "He's…"
"It's been over two years," Gideon said. "I want to know what he's been up to. What you've been up to. I know he's still Reid, but there's a confidence in him now, the confidence that I tried to bring out of him all along."
Morgan paused before sitting down in the chair next to Gideon's. "We have about half an hour until William and Diana arrive, and before Prentiss gets back from the Princeton records office so we can start combining all the facts with the profile." He looked over at the comatose Reid, feeling a sharp pang in his chest. But as the memories swept through his mind, he found himself smiling through his sadness. Bittersweet emotions, he had discovered, could be the most potent of all. "What would you like to know?"
Garcia heard voices outside the glass, but she was so intent on her laptop and watching Reid out of the corner of her eye, that the voices sounded like static, or perhaps like the adults in a Charlie Brown cartoon. She perked up however, at the sound of a male voice saying, "Diana, wait…" and the sound of swift footsteps entering the room. Diana Reid entered, looking just as she had when Garcia had met her several years ago, during the Fisher King case. She watched as Diana walked to the side of Reid's bed, instantly taking his hand in hers. Garcia had expected the news to send her reeling, as Reid had worried it would, but she seemed oddly calm. She heard what she assumed was William's voice talking softly outside to Hotch, and rose to give Diana a moment alone with her son.
"You don't have to go, Penelope," Diana said, eyes still fixed on Reid. "All of you are his family as well."
Garcia sat back down, unsure of what to say. It didn't surprise her that Diana remembered her; although her memory was sometimes marred from her condition and the medication, her own IQ was supposedly nearly as high as Reid's, and aside from meeting during that case, Reid had told Garcia about his frequent mentions of them in his letters to his mother.
"We were all so glad you could make it," Garcia said, smiling up at Diana.
"I would have come earlier, had I known," Diana said, eyes still fixed on her son. "But Spencer was worried it would upset me, I'm sure." She sat down on the edge of the bed, and lifted Reid's head very gently into her lap without disturbing any of the many wires. She stroked his cheek with a shaking hand, the other brushing through his hair. "Spencer baby," she whispered. "You have to get better so that the doctors can let you wake up from this coma."
Garcia, who had been trying to keep her emotions in check as she assisted in the search for Kelly, felt tears prick her eyes at this testament of Diana's immense love for her son. She had always known the two had been incredibly close, but seeing it before her eyes, in a time where losing Reid was a very real possibility, truly struck home. Diana looked up at Garcia.
"He will be alright, you know," Diana said.
"How…how do you know?" Garcia asked, perplexed.
"A mother knows," Diana replied simply. "A mother always knows. Spencer hasn't finished his journey just yet…there's too much good left for him to do."
Garcia turned to see William Reid enter, followed by Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Gideon. Hotch and Rossi had just left to briefly convene with the Princeton P.D. in Cuddy's office, and then they would all meet in a few minutes to hopefully find the location where Kelly was holding Dr. Chase, hoping against hope that they would find him alive. They were so, so close, yet despair threatened them. It would also give Diana and William a bit of time alone with their son, even if he wasn't awake. Garcia wondered how awkward it was between them, but supposed things like that hardly mattered when your child might be dying.
If Garcia had expected Diana to be sobbing, she had also expected William Reid, although she'd never met him, to be the sort of person who kept his emotions under control in front of others. What was happening was the opposite. While Diana stayed with Reid's head in her lap, still stroking his cheek, the moment William walked in the room, there were tears streaming down his face. Garcia had initially been angry at him because he'd left her sweet Reid when he was just ten and hadn't kept in contact, but as she witnessed the broken father in front of her, she found that the anger ebbed. She remembered telling Reid that William had kept a literal archive about him on his home computer, and realized that the man seemed more complicated than she had initially perceived in her own head. His eyes were overridden with a mixture of guilt, confusion, and love as he approached his son's bed, laying a hand on the side of Reid's head.
"I didn't really have time to ask questions on the phone…" William stumbled over his words, then breathed in again, trying to calm himself. "Who is doing to this to Spencer? What's being done to stop them?"
Morgan stepped forward, and it was only appropriate; aside from Rossi, he was the only one who had actually met William, had been the only other witness to what had gone down in Vegas. Reid had vaguely mentioned it to the others, but hadn't gone into detail, which was unsurprising.
"It was a girl he knew at Cal-Tech," Morgan said. "She's got severe borderline personality disorder, and she was romantically interested in Reid when they were at school. She was also apparently very jealous of his accomplishments…" he trailed off, obviously realizing that a profiler's description wasn't what William or Diana was looking for.
"We're close to catching her," Morgan said. "She's taken a doctor here hostage, but the moment we find a location we'll be on the way. Doctor House and his team are working to figure out what she's poisoned Spencer with. They're the best in the country."
"Why would someone do this to him?" William persisted, losing his composure again. "I don't understand."
"Trust me sir," Prentiss spoke up. "The only rhyme or reason to this is in her head. Looking for a logical reason won't help. We've gotten inside her head, and we will catch her."
"What are his chances?"
"William," Diana cut in.
"I need to know," he said, eyes roving between Reid and the other BAU agents.
At this, JJ stepped forward.
"It isn't a lost cause yet," she said, keeping her own voice steady even though Garcia knew it was difficult for her right now. JJ had nerves of steel, stood strong and held the team together with her special brand of glue, but Garcia had heard her around the corner, crying quietly into her phone while talking to Will. "Dr. House and his team are working around the clock. But the reality is, if a cause isn't found soon…he may not wake up. But we aren't giving up yet. On the contrary."
"But there is the possibility that he…that he won't make it?" William asked, wiping at his eyes furiously.
"Yes," JJ said, voice barely audible as she met his eyes. "But…"
"He'll make it," Diana said, looking up at her ex-husband, her voice not unkind.
"You don't know that," William said, a sharp grief enveloping his words.
"A mother knows," Diana said again.
William fell silent, pulling up a chair and grasping his son's wrist, tracing light circles on his skin. Diana looked up at the present team members, the hint of a smile on her face.
"I'm very thankful Spencer has all of you," she said. "He mentions all of you in his letters. And even though I know he keeps things from me so I don't worry, I trust all of you to be there for him."
"We do our best Ma'am," Morgan said. "He's like family to us. I wish…"
"This isn't your fault, Agent Morgan," Diana said firmly. "This is the work of a disturbed young woman." Her eyes landed on Gideon, who was watching the exchange silently.
"You believe he'll be alright too, don't you Gideon?" she asked, peering at him unflinchingly.
Gideon looked up, surprised, but responded.
"I'm not a man to give up hope until it's over, Ms. Reid," he said, eyes moving from her face to Spencer's. "And I have faith in the work of this team and of Dr. House's."
Morgan's cell phone rang, signaling that Hotch and Rossi were ready to meet them in the Diagnostics conference room.
"Gideon, can you stay here while we go meet with Hotch and Rossi?" Morgan asked. "Hotch wants an armed person in this room at all times, and all the Princeton P.D. are busy."
"Sure," Gideon said, looking over to William and Diana. "Unless you'd like me to stand outside?"
Diana didn't respond, lost in her son's face again, the first evidence of tears in her eyes, but William looked up, seemingly having calmed down.
"We'd like you to stay," he said, wrenching his eyes from Reid's face. "Please, don't stand on ceremony with us."
With that, Garcia begrudgingly left her post and scooped up her laptop, silently promising Reid that she would return as soon as possible.
Rossi watched as his five team members searched furiously through various files; Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch searched through the pile of files the Princeton records office had given them, while JJ, Garcia, and himself made sense of the records from the Virginia murders, which had taken place in Arlington, Alexandria, MacLean, Falls Church, and Leesburg. She'd been smart, Rossi had to admit, for committing the murders in separate but close-proximities: each had their own police department or division, so it wasn't a surprise no one had made the connection.
"All beaten, all sporting multiple cuts from a knife, all killed by a stab to the heart," Rossi said. "I'm going to venture a guess and say that the stab to the heart isn't irrelevant. Is there any way to doubt it's her? Especially when all of these guys have similar physical features to Reid?"
"It's probably her," Hotch said, looking up momentarily from the file. "The locals have turned the case over to us, but we'll have to work on finding evidence for those after we find her. She all but admitted it during her last phone call. She's been planning this for months, probably even for years, and now she has the courage to go after Reid."
"If she's capable of hacking into hospital records," Prentiss said. "She's capable of erasing other records. That's probably why we can't find out what happened to her after she dropped out of Cal-Tech. Something kept her from going after Reid over the past years…we need to find out what is."
"God, can Princeton not keep better records than this?" JJ questioned, frustrated. "These aren't in any kind of order or anything…"
"Keep looking," Hotch instructed. "At the core, this is about her relationship with her father, so she would pick a location that had something to do with him. I'm confident it's in these files…she said herself she was hiding in plain sight. Her even saying that means she's spiraling."
The rustling of paper pierced the room for the next few minutes, the tension so thick it was palpable. As they searched, Rossi felt the first real pang of uncertainty. He trusted the capabilities of this team absolutely, but even as they took once step forward it seemed like they took one step back. This was too close to home, and Rossi pondered if they should have brought another team in to assist. Strauss had suggested it of course, but none of them had wanted it, none of them had trusted anyone else to solve this particular case.
Then Morgan, who had been silent since they entered, spoke up.
"I found something," he said. "It's an old address. They moved around a lot, apparently, but this was the last known address. Garcia…"
"Already on it," she said, fingers pounding away on the keys. "Give it to me."
"115 Washington Court Road," Morgan said. "Trenton, New Jersey, 08610."
Rossi felt the mood of the room spurt upward as Garcia typed away, the laptop making various pinging sounds as she went. They were all frozen in place, JJ still grasping the edge of her file as she stared at Garcia.
"Does anyone live there?" Morgan pressed.
"No!" Garcia exclaimed! "It was foreclosed on a year ago and no one has moved in since."
"That has to be it," Prentiss said, already getting up from her chair, a gleam of exhilaration in her dark eyes. "That's got to be where she's taken Dr. Chase."
Hotch opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the glass door swinging open, revealing Chief Arnold.
"A woman called in to the tip line Agent Jareau set up," he said without ceremony. "She said she's seen a woman fitting two of Kelly's descriptions coming in and out of an unoccupied house at the end of the street."
"Where?" Hotch asked, standing as his hands grasped the edge of the glass table.
Rossi could practically hear everyone's blood pounding.
"It's on Washington Court Road in Trenton. About half an hour from here."
Rossi had never seen Hotch move so fast.
"We need to get a SWAT team immediately, just in case," Hotch said. "But we need to do a soft entry so that she doesn't kill Dr. Chase before we can get to him." He looked up at his team. "We all know how this woman profiles, and I don't think I need to emphasize just how volatile she is. We cannot underestimate her. JJ, please let Dr. Cameron and Dr. Foreman know. Dave, please make sure Gideon is informed and that he stays with Reid. Chief Arnold, I was hoping you could leave one of your men outside Reid's door. Gideon is armed, but he's not officially an agent any longer, and extra manpower would make me feel more secure."
"Absolutely," Chief Arnold replied. "No question."
Hotch picked up his phone to call House.
House glared at the unopened file of Dr. Reid's test results as his fingers danced across the piano keys, the notes calming his agitated brain. He was pissed that the diagnosis was evading him, especially when it seemed they'd been so close. He was perhaps even angrier that this witch of a woman was managing to outsmart him. House was far from sentimental; indeed, some might label as a misanthrope, but in his own unique way, he cared about the few people he'd allowed into his vicinity, even if he didn't often let them witness said affection. It was easier, really, to largely isolate himself, but there was no denying the sick feeling in his stomach when he thought of what that Kelly bitch was putting Chase through. He'd teased, mocked, and fought with Chase many times over the years, had called him an idiot too many times to count, but though he wasn't willing to admit it to anyone, not even to Wilson, Chase something like a protégée. He had a natural talent for diagnostics, an intuition that House rarely witnessed. That's why he'd always been harder on Chase. He pushed all of his fellows, and they were all good doctors, but he'd always pushed Chase further and longer.
It didn't seem right really, that Chase's life should be in danger rather than his own. Chase was young, had a growing career, hell, he'd just gotten married. Himself on the other hand…he was getting older, he was a newly reformed Vicodin addict, and the only person he had waiting for him at home was his best friend, who was watching out for him in case he went crazy and started seeing things again. But the world didn't always make sense, much as people claimed it should. Life could be harsh and unyielding, and there wasn't always a reason. House was ejected from his musings by the sound of Wilson's key scraping in the lock.
"Hey," Wilson said, closing the door behind him. He raised one eyebrow. "What are you playing? Is that…is that Sweeney Todd?"
"What's it to you?" House countered. "And why do you even know that?"
"It was a favorite of Bonnie's…she used to listen to it all the time," Wilson answered, putting his keys down on the counter and shrugging out of his coat. "That sounds like 'Not While I'm Around.' That's a sappy song. And you HATE Broadway. And sap."
"That's because the plotlines are stupid and most of them are so campy it makes me want to vomit," House said, continuing to play, an image of a bloodied Chase burned in his brain even still. "But some of the piano adaptations of Sondheim's scores are challenging. And I like challenging, in case you haven't noticed."
"You would like Sweeney Todd," Wilson said, although there was less mocking in his tone now as he realized what House was thinking of, realized the significance of the song. "It's morbid enough for you."
"You're an oncologist," House said, the final strains of the tune echoing through the room. "Half your patients die, and you picked that specialty all of your own accord. That's a little morbid."
It was quiet between them for a moment, and House flipped open the manila folder and spread the various test results in front of him, squinting.
"I know you're worried about Chase," Wilson said, voice soft now. "And Cameron as well. I am too. We all are."
"Boy genius is going downhill," House evaded, signaling to Wilson just how upset he was. "And his test results have been all over the map. It doesn't make any damn sense. No psycho murderer is going to get the better of me."
"What have you got him on now?" Wilson asked, taking a seat in the chair near the piano bench.
"Sodium Bicarbonate for anti-depressant poisoning," House answered, not looking up. "But he's not doing any better. Cameron and Foreman just called. I thought for sure Chase and I were right about the atropine poisoning…" he trailed off, eyes widening as they fixed on his signature at the bottom of the test results which had incorrectly pointed toward mandrake poisoning. He hadn't looked closely at them before…
"Toxins can be hard to pinpoint," Wilson said. "And the results can often be false/positives, especially with Tropine Alkaloids." He looked at House. "Those test results aren't going to start talking, you know…"
"My signature," House said, cutting Wilson off. "I hadn't really looked at these results closely, but that's not my signature." He shoved the paper in Wilson's face.
"It looks like your signature to me, it's hardly legible," Wilson said, pulling his face away. "What's your point, what does this have to do…"
"I don't loop my G like that," House said. "That woman replaced the test results to lead us down a wild goose chase. She even picked something with almost the exact same symptoms, but with a different treatment, which I hate to admit is actually kind of brilliant. Chase's and my diagnosis was right. It is atropine poisoning."
Wilson didn't even have time to respond as House reached for his phone and headed for the door, simply grabbing his keys from the counter once more so he could drive them back to the hospital. But as House made to punch his speed dial, his phone rang instead.
"House," he responded.
"Dr. House, it's Agent Hotchner," the unit chief said. "We've got a location."
"And I've got a diagnosis. Tell Dr. Cameron to start an IV of Physostigmine," House responded. "I'll be there in five minutes."
A/N: I'm betting some of you know the lyrics to the song that House is playing on the piano, but I'll put them here for anyone who doesn't. I actually got the idea for the songs in this chapter from listening to Mandy Patinkin's (Gideon) versions. If you haven't heard him sing, you should give it a listen, his voice is lovely. I hope everyone likes the way I instituted the songs into the chapter, and that they didn't seem out of place.
Lyrics: Nothing's gonna harm you/Not While I'm around/Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir/Not while I'm around/Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays/I'll send them howling, I don't care/I've got ways/No one's gonna hurt you/No one's gonna dare/Others can desert you/Not to worry, whistle I'll be there/Demon's will charm you with a smile/For a while/But in time/Nothing can harm you, not while I'm around.