Follows along with episode 3x12 - 3rd Life
"Put your hands where I can see them, both of you!" Rossi demanded as the three of us drew our guns, training them on the struggling me in front of us. At the click of the safety's coming off they both froze and Mr. Vaughn's hands flew up. Mr. Mannan went to turn and Rossi snarled, "Do not move!"
"Stop! Okay, okay! Just calm down," Mr. Mannan barked, looking back at us as he finally put his hands up too. "Look, I'm gonna reach into my pocket, and I'm gonna take out a badge. Just calm down."
As Mr. Mannan slowly began to reach into his pocket, I tightened my grip on the gun, ready to react. As he did so, Spencer shifted just a couple inches to his left, putting himself directly up against me and keeping me partially shielded.
Swoon.
Finally, a badge was produced and Mr. Mannan held it up, letting the flap fall open. All of us leaned in to read as he explained, "see? United States Marshal. Jack and Lindsey are under my authority."
Rossi spared a glance back at Spencer and I, giving a small nod. At his cue we slowly lowered our guns as he turned back and asked the men, "which is what?"
"Witness protection," Spencer deduced as he holstered his pistol. Mr. Mannan shared a heavy look with Mr. Vaughn, confirming our genius doctor had gotten that right. Rossi made a noise of disbelief as he shoved his gun away, planting his hand on his hips as he took a sharp breath to steady his temper.
I didn't try to get a handle on my own.
"You didn't think that was something important to mention?" I snapped, stepping around Spencer and crossing my arms to glare up at the two of them. Mr. Vaughn at least had the decency to look mildly guilty; Mr. Mannan looked like he was fully fed up with me. Good.
"I don't appreciate that tone," he began. I shrugged and his eyes narrowed just a hint. "Vaughn's situation is on a strict need-to-know basis –"
"And what, when a fifteen-year-old girl under your protection went missing, that didn't constitute as 'need-to-know' for the FBI?"
Mr. Mannan scoffed and asked pointedly, "well, did you know about it?"
I went to snark back at him and now Rossi came up beside me, subtly nudging me back a few steps. Thankfully, though, he was just as angry as I was. "No, we didn't, and that's a problem, Pat. With Jack being in WITSEC, it completely changes the dynamics of this case. It changes our entire pool of suspects, the profile of our UnSubs, and without filling us in, it can lead to situations like this that put everyone at risk."
Mr. Vaughn fully ducked his head now, but Mr. Mannan was on a whole 'nother level today, apparently. He let out a bark of laughter and shook his head as he turned away from us, muttering, "this is unbelievable. Trying to tell me how to do my own job…"
Rossi turned to me, cutting off the next sharp retort I had ready to go. "Trust me, I'm right there with you, kid. You and Reid take them to the living room, and I'll get Hotch over here. Keep the feisty interrogation to a minimum for now, okay?"
Fine, fine. I wouldn't rip him apart… yet. He caught the look on my face and chuckled softly, nudging me off towards the living room as he slipped into the kitchen, already dialing Hotch's number. As I moved to follow Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Mannan into the living room, Spencer came up beside me and settled a hand on my arm to keep me back a moment.
When I looked up at him, his soft toffee eyes instantly flickered between my own, genuine concern taking over his face. For a moment I wondered if he could feel the adrenaline sparking through me, if he could her my heart still hammering in my chest. Sure, it'd just been a brief altercation, but it was enough to leave me frazzled.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly; how I wasn't just a puddle on the floor at this point, I didn't know. I took a deep breath to settle myself as I gave him a quick nod.
"I'm good," I promised him, and when he didn't look fully convinced – double swoon – I gave his hand on my arm a gentle pat. "Really. Thank you for stepping up for me."
Spencer quirked a small smile at me, cheeks tinting the most adorable shade of pink as he gave a quick nod, moving aside to let me pass. "Of course. You don't need to thank me for that."
"Too bad," I shrugged, looking back at him as I led us into the living room. "Thanks."
Mr. Vaughn had settled into an armchair, elbows on his knees and chin resting on clasped hands. He didn't look up as Spencer and I came to stand across from him, but Mr. Mannan didn't look away. He was right next to Mr. Vaughn, arms crossed, squinted glare passing between the two of us.
It was a tense twenty minutes, to say the least. Rossi had managed to rip out a few more details of the situation, but after a couple of questions both clammed up, and they hadn't spoken since. It felt like none of us moved – or even dared to breathe – until we heard a car pulling into the driveway. The room came back to life the second the front door swung open.
Hotch made a beeline for us, his dark eyes briefly sweeping over Spencer and Rossi before they landed on me. He paused in front of me, studying me for a moment; what had Rossi told him? Whatever it was, he looked pretty irritated. Well, more honestly, he looked downright pissed.
"What's going on?" he asked the three of us. Rossi nodded to the men behind him and said,
"Jack and Lindsey are in witness protection."
"And they have been for ten years," I told him. Mr. Mannan's cold glare landed on me again and I crossed my arms and lifted a brow at him as I added, "must be really important."
He looked ready to snap at me when Hotch turned on his heel to stare him down. The look on his face was enough to keep the grumpy US Marshal quiet.
"Why didn't you tell us immediately?" Hotch asked them both incredulously. Mr. Vaughn kept quiet, eyes fixated on his shoes, but Mr. Mannan wasn't happy with being called out on what he'd done wrong.
"Because, Agent, he's a state's witness, who's identity needs to be protected at all costs." And, like he wasn't in the crosshairs of the FBI, Mr. Mannan had the audacity to turn away from us and tell Mr. Vaughn, "y'know, Jack, we don't need to say a thing. This may not have anything to do with –"
"With what, his past? Which, clearly, was such a danger to him and his daughter that he had to be put into witness protection?" I quipped; I could've sworn I heard Rossi swallowing a snort. Mr. Mannan's jaw tensed and he actually took a step in our direction.
Just as Spencer had done earlier, Hotch shifted to put himself in front of me. I couldn't see his face, but whatever stare he had fixed on Mr. Mannan was cold enough to freeze him in his spot. He held the stare a moment longer before he turned his attention to the man hunched in the armchair.
"Jack, every person in this room – with the exception of him – is here for your daughter," Hotch promised. Mr. Vaughn looked up for the first time since sitting down as he continued, "we want to help you, but we can only do that if you let us."
Mr. Mannan turned to say something to him, but Mr. Vaughn held up a hand, his eyes not leaving Hotch's. He took a breath, pressed his lips together briefly, and then admitted, "If… this does have anything to do with me, they'll be comin' outta Boston."
"Jack, you shouldn't say –" Mr. Mannan began, but Mr. Vaughn shook his head, eyes fixed on Hotch as he added,
"They'd be Irish-American, two men or more."
"Thank you," Hotch told him, giving a nod before turning to us again. "Let's get them back to the station and keep them there until this is over."
Rossi nodded and motioned for Spencer to follow him, and they skirted around us to come up to Mr. Vaughn, both guiding him ahead of them and out the door to the waiting SUV. I moved to follow, but only got a couple steps past Hotch when Mr. Mannan put himself between me and the door.
He put his hands in his pockets, staring down his nose at me, doing all he could to make me feel smaller than him. I drew myself up as much as I could and tipped my head, steeling my gaze and tightening my arms over my chest.
"Something I can help you with?" I asked coolly. His jaw tensed, and for a heartbeat I thought he would actually give me a piece of his mind. That was, until a hand settled on my shoulder.
Hotch came up just behind me, his grip tightening just a hint as Mr. Mannan's eyes flicked dismissively to him. Hotch was daring him to say something, and the man in front of us didn't have the guts.
Instead, he just shook his head and warned,
"You know… you guys have no idea who or what you're dealin' with here."
"Then either enlighten us, or stay our of our way," Hotch said quietly, the venom in his voice so potent it actually made my blood turn cold.
Hotch stepped up and put himself between me and Mr. Mannan as he gently urged me forward. His hand stayed firm on my shoulder as he followed me out, right behind me, daring Mr. Mannan to try his patience again.
At least he was smart enough not to cross Aaron Hotchner on a bad day.
We stepped outside and Mr. Mannan reluctantly followed, all but stomping to the SUV like a kid throwing a tantrum. I went to follow him down when Hotch asked quietly but firmly, "Aria, a word?"
Uh oh. What'd I do? Instantly my mind went to the snappy retorts I'd thrown out before he got there, and I swallowed nervously as I shuffled up to him. I'd been idly warned a couple times to keep my temper in check during cases. Snapping at Morgan in the bullpen was one thing, but being a smart ass with a US Marshal was probably something I needed to avoid.
"Sorry. I know what I said was a little out of line saying –"
"Did Mannan put his hands on you?"
We spoke at the same time and it took me a second to realize what he'd asked. After a couple moments of silence he prompted, "Aria?"
"I – well, kind of. Yeah," I started, and cut off at the look on his face. Just when I thought his scowl couldn't get any deeper, he went and proved me wrong. His entire face seemed to darken and his eyes snapped up, over my head to Mr. Mannan.
I was so stunned to see the expression on his face, all I could do was stare up at him. His gaze fell back to me and he asked, "are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just fine," I promised him quickly. He relaxed a bit, the fury on his face subsiding as he studied me to see if I'd been truthful. For a moment, I wondered what his reaction would've been if I'd told him I wasn't. Wanting to ease the situation, I tried to explain, "Penny asked me to get the IP address of Mr. Vaughn's computer. When they caught me, I gave a dodgy answer and tried to make a run for it, and Mr. Mannan stopped me –"
"Stopped you?" he repeated, face starting to shadow with his scowl again. Before he could get too upset, I clarified,
"He just grabbed my arm. It didn't hurt, and Spencer got him off pretty fast." Hotch's lips pressed together, like my explanation had only somehow made the situation worse in his mind. "Really, I'm okay. They were upset I was snooping, and –"
"I don't care what the reasoning is, it's unacceptable," Hotch cut in, his fury beginning to spark in his dark gaze once again. "It was one thing to block you from leaving just now, but to put his hands on you and physically prevent you from leaving is incredibly inappropriate."
For a couple moments, I really didn't know how to respond. Rossi must've seen the altercation earlier, and told Hotch on the call. I actually hadn't even planned on mentioning it and now I really didn't know what to say. Hotch's genuine anger at how I'd been treated wasn't something I'd been prepared for.
"I mean, I'm all in favor of you punching Mr. Mannan in the face. And if anyone came asking, I'd let them know I didn't see a thing," I told him. Though he didn't smile, his lips twitched just a hint. "And, if your fist ricocheted off and hit Mr. Vaughn too, well… I certainly wouldn't know anything about that, either."
Tension and anger settled for now, Hotch just nodded towards the SUV and shook his head. "I believe we've discussed that face-punching isn't an acceptable tactic used by the FBI."
"And, again, I say we petition to make an exception in extreme circumstances."
"I'll let you bring that up with Strauss," he deadpanned, getting a grimace out of me at the very thought. "I do have a question for you, though."
When I looked up at him and raised my eyebrows, inviting him to ask, he frowned again. "What were you out of line for saying?"
Shit. Of course he'd noticed I'd started to say that. In answer, I blinked up at him innocently and feigned,
"Hmm? What are you talking about?"
"Right." Hotch sighed, doing his best to give me a stern look. It would've been a little more intimidating if he wasn't trying to bite back a smile. "Just get in the car."
I smiled wide enough for the both of us.
Tires crunching down the road caught my attention, and I looked up from the ongoing struggle with my vest. Hotch, at my side, flagged down the others before turning to check the fit of my vest. He gave an experimental tug, frowned, and then undid one of the straps.
"No movement, remember?" he said as he velcro'd the vest back together. "If there's movement, it could shift in a pursuit or a struggle, and you could be left vulnerable."
I was ninety percent sure it was just as tight as it was before he fiddled with it, but I just gave him a nod. If it made him feel better, then we'd roll with it. "Got it. No movement, and only minimal room for my lungs to expand. Breath every other minute."
Hotch's lips twitched as he fought off a small smile, turning and motioning for me to follow as we went to meet the others. The detective was the first out, and he circled the SUV to meet us, giving Hotch and I a wary look.
"How on earth did you beat us here? We left at the same time," he said slowly. Emily and Rossi gave me bemused smirks as Spencer bit back a smile, shaking his head; I spun the keys before tucking them into my pocket.
"An FBI intern never reveals her secrets," I chided playfully, falling into step with the others as I let Hotch and Rossi take the lead with the detective. Emily reached up and, just like Hotch did, she tugged on my vest.
"Can you even breathe with it this tight?"
"Marginally," I told her, getting a stifled snort from her in reply as we made our way down the road.
Right after we'd gotten back to the station, an officer had called in to report something found in a neighborhood of abandoned houses. As Spencer and I had figured, they were sprinkled right along the edge of town, nice and isolated.
"This is where members of the Irish Mob came to murder a kid?" the detective asked doubtfully, looking around at the crumbling houses we passed. Hotch shook his head and voiced what he and I had been discussing on the ride over.
"At this point, it seems highly unlikely that the UnSub that killed Katie and took Lindsey is tied to Jack Vaughn's WITSEC situation. This is looking like someone local." When the detective made a noise of disagreement, Hotch glanced back to Spencer. "What is it to the dump site? Five miles?"
"Six point two miles south," he corrected. The detective gave him a bewildered look and Spencer ducked his head immediately. I gave him a supportive elbow-nudge, and he peeked down at me shyly. When I smiled up at him, he spared a smile back.
"If this is where Katie was murdered, why didn't they dump Katie's body on the other side of town to draw us further from here?" Emily continued, picking up on Hotch's point instantly; that's exactly why I loved her. The detective still looked lost, so Rossi tacked on,
"And, why'd they risk heading out on the open road while everyone was out looking for the girls? The whole department was on high alert, and these guys still risked exposing themselves."
"An experienced criminal wouldn't make a risky move like that," the detective realized, finally on the same page as us. "He got spooked and something forced him to move on instead of laying low."
The officer who'd stumbled upon the house flagged us down and we veered over onto the sidewalk that led up to a broken front door. The moment we stepped inside I almost actually recoiled from the smell. It was a putrid mixture of stale alcohol, cigarette smoke, and rotten food swirling together with the lingering tang of blood.
As we all tugged on our latex gloves, Hotch motioned to Rossi and Spencer, then nodded to the stairs behind us. Emily and I followed him further into the living room, spreading out wordlessly to start examining what had been left behind.
Emily peeled off to one corner of the room and I followed Hotch across to a busted window. He knelt to examine the glass and the cigarette butts beneath it as I turned my attention to the bloodstains that were both smeared on the walls and pooled on the dingy carpet.
"I've got Katie's cellphone," Emily called out from one corner of the living room as I knelt down to examine the ground around me.
"Two different sets of footprints," I reported, standing back up as Hotch came over to have a look too. As he got up too, he sighed and said,
"We have two UnSubs, at least."
"Jack said there'd be two of them," the detective pointed out, still clinging to this whole revenge of the mobsters theory he was so fond of. I was more than happy to burst that bubble, most because I knew how, and I liked being able to show off the little bit of profiling I could manage to do.
"There's cigarette butts, beer cans, and liquor bottles everywhere. Not to mention all the blood… literally and forensically, this is a real mess. A professional wouldn't have left a scene like this."
"You'd think they'd just want do the job and move on, but these UnSubs lingered. They weren't in a rush or on any kind of mission," Hotch agreed, walking with me over to the entryway. The detective, still not fully convinced, asked us both,
"What if this was a taunt, though? Left out purposely because they know we can't catch them?"
Footsteps on the stairs behind us caught our attention, and a moment later Spencer and Rossi had rejoined us. Rossi gave me a nod, saying he'd take over from here. I subtly inched away, turning back to study the rest of the room as he explained,
"Sure, it's a possibility. I just don't think it gets that complicated. Like Aria said, it's just too sloppy. There's a belt upstairs, probably the one used to strangle Katie. If this were an attack against Jack, if they were taunting us, why not go after his daughter? Why leave us essentially everything we'd need to track them down?"
"Statistically, it would make much more sense for this to be done by someone local and inexperienced, than by a professional going out of their way to goad us into hunting them down," Spencer finished plainly.
Hearing he and Rossi defend my profiling again sent warmth fluttering through me and got a small smile on my face. Knowing the team would back me just made me that much for confident with my skills.
Which were now picking up on something else. At first, it'd seemed the bloody prints had just been left on the carpet, but further into the kitchen I could see dark smears on the linoleum. AS the others continued their talk with the detective, I slipped past them and followed the footprints. The sliding glass door leading to the backyard was shattered, the shards lying in a sizeable pool of blood.
Uh oh. This wasn't good.
"Hey, guys?" I called, looking back warily to the others. Spencer, the closest to me, was at my side in the next moment, and I barely fought the instant blushing at his concern. Hotch was next, popping around the corner as Rossi, Em, and the detective followed right behind. "It looks like someone made a break for it."
Now that they were with me, I turned and led the way into the backyard, carefully stepping over the glass and blood. Hotch was right behind me, and as I expected, he pulled ahead to lead the way.
"Could it be one of the UnSubs?" I asked the others as we carefully climbed through a hole in the fence. Emily glanced back and offered,
"Maybe. It could also be Lindsey."
"They've lost a lot of blood," Spencer said slowly, hanging back as he knelt to study the dark smears in the dirt. I paused too, staying at his side. Not because I liked watching him work, or liked how his brows burrowed together as he bit his full lips… no, not that. I just wanted tomake sure he didn't get jumped by anyone, and that was all. "It's thinner the further we go. An arterial bleed. That doesn't bode well for whoever it is."
"It stops here," Hotch called from a little further up. Spencer stood, and when he noticed me at his side he paused in surprise, and a bashful smile crept over his face. We both ducked our heads as we scurried off to reach the rest of the team as Hotch ordered, "We need to spread out and search the grounds. Check every house."
The rest of the team split up and went off in different directions and, knowing what he was gonna say, I turned and stepped up to Hotch just as he'd opened his mouth. "I'm with you. Lead the way."
He gave a swift nod and the ghost of a smile before he turned, pulled his gun out, and took off towards a house on the far side of the street, just past the one Emily had gone into. As we approached the first door I tried the knob, but shook my head.
"Stand back," Hotch warned, and as soon as I was back behind him, he kicked the door nearly completely off its hinges. "Alright, remember to – what?"
He'd looked back to check on me and, admittedly, I was just gaping at him. When I didn't answer right away, he raised his brows and I managed a thrilled, "that was bad ass!"
Hotch actually snorted. "I'm glad you thought so. Stay with me, keep an eye behind us as we move, and keep quiet."
As soon as I nodded in understanding, he turned and led the way inside. We swept the first two homes in the building quickly, and came up with nothing but more beer cans and stale cigarette smoke.
On the third one though, the moment Hotch kicked the door in – still as awesome as the first time – we were hit with a stomach-churning smell. Unfortunately, I was way too familiar with the smell of death, and we shared a knowing look. This wouldn't be good.
Following the awful stench, Hotch led us up the stairs at a steady pace. He paused at the top, and when I joined him he nodded down the hall. There were more bloodstains on the carpet, and a smear on the door at the end of the hall.
We worked quickly, clearing the other rooms along the way, and when we reached the last door Hotch took the lead. He looked back at me and mouthed on three. When I nodded, he turned back and bobbed his head as he counted down.
At the silent three, he surged forward and threw the door open so hard it actually splintered when it hit the wall. I was in right behind him, and at the same time we lifted our guns to the figure lying on the floor.
"Guys, last house on the left, second floor. We've got something," Hotch called in as he slowly holstered his gun, nodding at me to do the same. Hotch walked up to the body and motioned for me to follow.
When I reached his side, he nodded down at the guy laying at our feet and asked, "what can you tell me?"
"Well," I started, sinking down onto my haunches, carefully avoiding the blood soaking the carpet around his body. I slipped my latex gloves back on as I leaned closer. Carefully moving his tattered shirt just a hint, I reported, "he was stabbed two… no, three times. He's got shallow scratch marks on his face and arms, and…"
Hotch knelt at my side and took the guy's arm with his own gloved hand, turning it over and confirming, "and a bite mark on his hand."
"These are all defensive wounds," I said slowly, furrowing my brow as I studied the body in front of us. "Could Katie or Lindsey have done this?"
Hotch shook his head, leaning a little closer. "Not all of these. Some are marks from him defending himself. To injure one person and hold two others would mean it's safe to say there are at least three UnSubs, including him. At some point, things got out of hand and he wanted out. The others he was with weren't about to let that happen."
"He made a run for it and got stabbed in the process. If it was dark out, they wouldn't have been able to track him down. They…" realization struck and I looked up at Hotch. "That's what forced them to move on. They would've thought he went to the police, and in a panic they ran and dumped Katie as quickly as they could."
"Good," Hotch praised quietly, pushing to his feet. As I did the same, he pressed, "now, why would they keep Lindsey?"
Okay, that part I didn't know. "That doesn't make sense to me. Wouldn't it be easier to have just killed her? I mean, so far it doesn't seem like any of this was planned. If killing Katie was enough to spook at least one of them, why not just finish with Lindsey and make a break without dragging someone else with them?"
Hotch nodded in agreement. "It would have. So, what would've made the UnSubs choose Lindsey over the easier option of murdering her?"
"If… well, strangling Katie shows control is important to one of them, at least. And then killing their own partner when he wanted to do something against their orders… Maybe keeping Lindsey is his way of trying to maintain some control in all of this."
For the first time in several days, Hotch actually smiled at me. I was so elated I instantly smiled back. "Excellent profiling. Let's go grab the others and bring them up to speed."
A shiver raced down my spine; eyes were fixated on me, and I knew exactly who it was.
Again, I looked back and caught Mr. Vaughn staring our direction, looking between Spencer and I in front of the map, and the rest of the team giving the profile in the other room. Rossi and Hotch had spoken with him about leaving the hunt for Lindsey's abductors up to us, but he clearly wasn't happy with that decision.
I couldn't focus on that now, though. If we wanted to find Lindsey alive, we had to identify this UnSub. I turned back to Spencer, about to call Penelope, when I saw he was looking over my head. A look over my shoulder confirmed Mr. Vaughn was still staring at us.
That didn't surprise me. What did catch me off-guard was the look Spencer was giving him right back. Spencer Reid didn't glare. As it seemed to end up a lot, though, it seemed that he made exceptions for me. Almost making excuses to rest a hand on my back or my arm even though he hated touch, standing up to Mr. Mannan to get his hands off me when he hated confrontation…
Now, we could add staring down ex-hitman to the list too.
"Scruffy?" at his nickname, he instantly looked down at me and cleared his throat, wiping away the remnants of his scowl. I quirked a brow at him. "You okay?"
He nodded quickly and offered me a nearly-shy smile as he rushed out, "fine. I'm sorry. Have – have you called Garcia yet?"
"Calling her now," I assured, unable to hide the smile that snuck out. I didn't need to be a genius profiler to know he was glaring at Mr. Vaughn for me, and really at this point I couldn't swoon anymore than I already was.
Penelope picked up on the second ring and chirped, "what can I do for you, my sweet summer flower?"
"Hey Penny. You've got me and Spencer," I prefaced. I heard her give an interested oh? and quickly went on, "did you get the photos Em sent to you?"
Chuckling to herself, knowing exactly what I was doing, she chuckled and said, "I sure did. I'm having trouble narrowing down the search, though. His face isn't pulling any matches in… in it's condition, so I'll need to do it manually."
"We can help with that," Spencer assured, turning to study the pictures we had spread out on the table. "He's between fifteen to eighteen, so start with every high school in the Chula Vista area."
"Okay…" she began, and a whirlwind of clicks came through the phone. She huffed and they abruptly stopped. "Uh, Chula Vista has seven public schools and three private schools. I need your beautiful brains to give me more than that."
I sat the phone on the table between us and leaned down to look at the photos now too. "Kay, let's see here… He's white, with brown hair and blue eyes, 5'9…"
"You just described the majority of the high schoolers on my screen," she pointed out. Damnit, she had a point. "I need more!"
Spencer nodded and grabbed my phone, turning back to the map board and leaning in a little closer. As he studies the city, I studied him. I'd been trying to lay off the creepy Spencer-watching I caught myself doing a lot, but I was only human, I just couldn't help it.
Morgan called Spencer pretty a lot, and at first I hadn't agreed. That hadn't seemed to fit him, because in my mind, pretty was Penelope's bright dresses and flawless curves. Pretty was JJ's soft, blonde hair and her long, slim legs. Pretty was the fire in Emily's eyes and the curl of her dangerous smirk.
Now, though, I saw pretty in Spencer, too. In the long, lean lines of his body, and the soft, chocolate curls tucked behind his ears. I saw pretty in the sweep of his slim fingers, the cut of his sharp jaw, the pink flush of his full lips…
Spencer Reid was pretty, and I was a total sucker for his aesthetic. Would he mind if I called him pretty? Maybe I'd try to, whenever we managed to go on our date…
"Most of the activity's in the southeastern district…" Spencer told Penelope, jolting me out of my thoughts so suddenly I actually almost gasped. Thankfully I kept myself quiet as he continued, "the socio-economic dynamic's predominantly working class. Try looking within a three mile radius of the Castle Park area."
As Penelope's keys went clacking again, Spencer turned and sat down the photo he'd been holding, catching my eye as he did so. Lord, there I went again, totally lost in Spencer's honey-hazel eyes. I had to stop, or I'd end up falling down that rabbit hole, and it was one I couldn't pull myself out of as easily.
Thankfully, Penelope spoke up to help break the spell, reporting, "down to two high schools. Now what?"
"Start with the largest," I suggested, getting an agreeing nod from Spencer at that. It took Penelope only a couple more moments of digging before she ah-ha'd.
"Okay, let's see what we got…" she began. "I'm down to just five faces… jinkies. I got 'im. I'm sending it your way, my brilliant little bees."
She ended the call, and not a minute later, the fax machine of the conference room started ringing. The moment the photo and paper came through, I snatched it, and the two of us rushed off to the others.
"… and the dominant male, in order to maintain control, attacked him –" Hotch paused the profile when he saw Spencer and I scampering across the station towards them. "Do you two have something?"
In answer, I held up the photo and skirted past, directly to the evidence board, to tack up the picture as Spencer announced, "Douglas Silverman. Eighteen years old."
"Alright," Hotch said instantly, rallying us all around him as he studied the board a moment, putting together a game plan. "We need to find out all we can about him. Talk to parents, teachers, any friends we can find… figuring out who Douglas is friends with will be the key to finding Lindsey."
"We can go check the school," Morgan offered instantly, glancing to Rossi. Hotch gave a nod, and the two of them took off, already calling Penelope for the information.
"JJ, talk to Jack and the Owen's. See if either of them know Douglas. Reid, work with Garcia to gather all possible suspects and work on mapping out Douglas Silverman's geographical profile. Aria, you can go with me –"
"Actually, Hotch?" Spencer cut in, glancing to me before looking back to our boss. "Can Aria stay here? It would be helpful to have her assist with gathering information from Garcia."
Normally, I knew he'd give the okay. He'd relaxed a lot more with allowing me to stick with people other than himself and staying at the station was practically the safest option, right behind keeping me at Quantico.
This time, he hesitated, and I didn't miss the flick of his eyes over to the office Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Mannan were in.
"I'll be okay here," I piped up, hoping to help the cause. When he still didn't relent completely, I jammed my thumb at Spencer and assured, "this one's got faster reflexes than Mobster Rossi. We'll be just fine here."
Hotch pressed his lips together, looking between the two of us. He still seemed uncertain, but we were on a time crunch. Finally, he gave a slow nod.
"Alright. Stay together and work on narrowing down what you can. Call me as soon as you find something. And, Aria," he added, pausing as he went to turn and leave. "I don't want you near Jack or Mannan. Understood?"
I quirked a smile. "Yes, sir. I'll stick to the board and leave the heavy lifting to Spencer."
He chuckled and, though he still looked like he didn't want to leave, he finally turned to follow Rossi and the others outside.
When JJ finally emerged from the conference room shaking her head, irritation spiked and I didn't even try to stifle my groan. I slumped lower on the desk I was sitting on; we'd reached another dead end. Spencer, in the chair beside me, looked up at the noise and offered me a sympathetic half-smile.
When JJ paused next to us she sighed, "Jack said he doesn't forget anyone, and he's never seen this one before. But," she added at the look on my face. "He said the girls spent a lot of time at a local coffee shop. I'll go run down there, see what I can get from the employees."
"Better than nothing," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. The sound of a door shutting caught my attention and I looked past her. Mr. Owen had gone into the office Jack was set up in. Frowning, I looked over at JJ and asked, "what's going on there?"
She looked to what I was nodding at, and then turned back with a sad smile on her face. "Mr. Owen said he wanted to talk with Jack. He's being strong for his wife, and I think he needs a friend to lean on. They should be alright, but if anything happens, make sure you don't –"
"I'll send Spencer in to deal with them," I confirmed, getting a bemused smile from the genius at my side. "Roger, dodger."
JJ gave me a thumbs up as she headed through the station, off to dig up what she could. Spencer was still scanning through the couple hundred pages that Penny had faxed us, pulling out all the Ryan's and Brian's he came across. That was all Hotch and Emily had managed to get from Douglas Silverman's father about who one of the possible other suspects could be.
It wasn't much, but it was more than the Owen's or Mr. Vaughn had given us. Did they really not know anything about Douglas? About who their daughters might've been spending time with? It just didn't sit right with me, but for now we'd dig with what we had.
Almost half an hour later, Spencer held up a sheet he'd scribbled on and I took it as I asked,
"Alright… Brian Rollins?" I offered Penelope, squinting to make out Spencer's chicken scratch. Honestly, chickens probably had better penmanship that him.
"Nope, zip and zilch with a side of nada," she sighed, and I slumped a little more on the desk. Yet another dead end. As I tossed the paper aside I asked Spencer,
"That was the last of the Brian's, wasn't it?"
He mhmm'd as he pushed one stack of papers aside, starting on another.
"Well, I got started on compiling the Ryan's. There's not as many, surprisingly," Penelope offered. "I've got three Ryan's that all went to Lindsey and Katie's school."
"Okay… the Ryan we're looking for would have most likely gotten expelled, or at least flunked out."
"I might have something," Penelope said, a hint of hope in her voice. Spencer and I both sat up eagerly as she said, "there's Ryan Phillips. He was expelled for smoking pot a few years ago –"
The door to the office opened unexpectedly and Spencer actually gave a start. Mostly, y'know, 'cause I'd jumped so hard I nearly fell off the desk. It'd been quiet around us for so long that I'd forgotten there were people in the office.
Well… there were people. Mr. Owen had been the only one to walk out just now, but the room was empty. Alarm rippled through me and I hopped off the desk, skirting around Spencer to lean inside.
The room was empty, and Mr. Vaughn's bottle of pills was sitting on the table.
Shit.
"Spencer!" I said quickly, spinning on my heel. At the tone of my voice his head snapped up and he turned to me. "I think we have a –"
"He's taken my car!" Mr. Mannan shouted as he stormed into the station, wiping at the blood pooling from his nose. "Bastard took my car!"
Spencer and I shared a horrified look.
"Pen, get Hotch on the line. We've got a major problem."
Things had gone from bad to terribly abysmal in record time. Mr. Vaughn was off hunting down our prime suspect, the rest of the team was scattered across town, and we still had no idea where Ryan and the other UnSub were keeping Lindsey.
I was busy reading off coordinates and Spencer, at the map, was scribbling as fast as those long fingers could go. Of course, hovering right over both of us, was a grumpy Mr. Mannan. He'd just come back from cleaning off his face, and he was just as useless as before.
"You've gotta find 'em, and fast," he barked out, practically crowding Spencer against the map, all but breathing down his neck. Not in the mood to deal with him anymore, I stood and went to stand at Spencer's shoulder, purposefully making Mr. Mannan back up.
As he opened his mouth to reprimend me I snapped, "calm down. What does it look like he's doing?"
"Coloring in a map," he began, and clearly he'd reached the end of Spencer's patience now too.
The irritated doctor spared a brief glance up at the man glaring down at the two of us, his coffee eyes darkened to a deep, burning sienna. He tapped the map with his marker and explained, "all the activity is focused in the southeastern district. The abduction site, the dump site, and now Ryan Phillips' house. If Aria and I can narrow down one central location, we'll find out where Ryan and Jack are right now."
Before he could argue – like he undoubtedly wanted to do – Mr. Mannan's phone started going off. Spencer and I shared an exasperated scowl, both turning our attention back to the map. As I read off the next location and he got to scribbling, Mr. Mannan called out to us,
"Gunshots comin' from Jackson street." Spencer tapped the map, showing me where it was at. Completely out of the comfort zone, and not even in the radius of what we were mapping out. Whatever the gunshots were, they didn't matter to us right now. When neither of us moved, Mr. Mannan barked, "hello? You two comin'?"
My patience with the man was long gone, and Hotch wasn't here to reign me in. Handing off the next marker to Spencer, I looked over my shoulder and dismissed, "Mr. Vaughn already took your car, so he won't be jumping you again. I'm sure you can handle this one on your own, Mr. U.S. Marshal."
Spencer didn't even try to hide his snort. Mr. Mannan sneered at the two of us before he turned on his heel and stormed out of the conference room. Finally. Only once I was sure he was out of earshot did I murmur to Spencer, "don't tell Hotch about that."
"About what?" he asked, giving me a teasing smile before he went back to his mapping. Unbothered now, I stood at his side and watched him work as I read off the last location Penelope had sent us.
When he drew the last circle, his hand froze and he actually gasped. "Aria, look at this!"
His pen tapped the map right in the center of where all the areas overlapped. I had my phone ringing between us in the next instant. As soon as it picked up, Hotch asked instantly,
"Aria, good news please."
"I think so, yeah. Spencer?" I said, holding the phone closer to him. He nervously ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face as he rattled off,
"After inputting all the sites, I've come up with a two-dimensional probability service overlay map that indicates the offender's operating area, and –"
"Reid, what –"
Short on time, I lifted the phone up and said quickly, "Hotch, I know it sounds crazy, but everything on Spencer's map points to Mayford High School. Where Katie, Lindsey, and Ryan went to school."
"How close is that?" he asked; I heard commotion in the background as he rallied the others.
"From you? Almost ten minutes," I reported, and practically heard him groan. I knew he wouldn't like it, but I offered up, "we're just two blocks away. I can get us there in a minute, two tops."
He hesitated, and I knew he hated the idea of sending Spencer and I into an unknown situation. Right now, we didn't have a choice, and he knew it. He let out a breath and finally relented, "alright. We'll meet you there."
Spencer grabbed our vests off the table as soon as we got the go-ahead. He wrestled his on, then held mine out to me as I said quickly, "kay, we'll see you soon."
I was just about to hang up when Hotch added, "Aria, Reid?" The two of us looked down to the phone. "Both of you be careful."
"We will be," I promised, sharing a brief smile with Spencer as he gave a confirming nod. "You too."
As soon as I hung up, Spencer handed off my vest and then turned to grab the keys. I'd just fastened mine – making sure it was snug – when he reappeared looking frustrated. "All the SUV's are gone –"
"Keys! I need keys," I shouted, startling Spencer a couple of the officers nearby as I led us through the station. When none of them moved to offer them up I snapped, "A kid's life depends on this! Keys, now!"
A couple pairs got tossed our way. I snagged the first one I could and we took off for the parking lot, hitting the unlock until we found the right car. The moment we shut the doors I threw us into reverse, then peeled out of the parking lot.
Traffic laws didn't matter right now. I was pushing nearly sixty when I swung us into the school's lot. As we rounded a corner, I caught sight of a car parked a ways down. And there, just running for the back door, was Jack Vaughn. He had a shotgun.
I slammed us to a stop and we were out of the car in the next heartbeat, sprinting down the sidewalk as we drew our guns. We came to the side of one building and he paused, putting an arm out to stop me as well. As he leaned around to check if we were clear he ordered,
"Jack Vaughn is an UnSub, just like Ryan Phillips. Stay alert, stay with me, and stay back."
"Got it," I promised him, and we took off once again. As we rounded the corner and reached the front of the building, we heard a door shutting just ahead. My heart was in my throat, adrenaline at full blast; we were right behind him, and no Hotch in sight.
At the door, I scurried ahead and glanced back. Spencer lifted his gun, ready as I grabbed the handle and then pulled it open. He swept the hall in a second and then led the way inside, with me right behind him. The door shut behind us with an echoing click, and it settled on me that we were alone in this.
We were going to reach Mr. Vaughn and Ryan before the rest of team got to us. Our only hope would be to talk them down, or at the very least buy enough time for them to catch up. With how charged it all was, with an ex-hitman's daughter at risk and her abductor unstable and erratic, I had a feeling this wasn't gonna end well for us.
Please hurry Hotch.
Halfway down the hall, we heard a girl shouting, "Kill him! Kill him, daddy!"
We skid to a stop at the door, shared one last look, and then I pulled this one open too. Spencer rushed inside and I followed right behind. We came around the corner of the stalls and I took in the scene in front of us in a heartbeat.
A young man – presumably Ryan – on the ground crowded back against a stall door. Mr. Vaughn standing above him, shotgun trained on him, with Lindsey just behind him. Spencer and I, alone, with backup still minutes away.
Really not gonna end well.
"Put the gun down!" Spencer ordered, and instantly Ryan turned to us, sobbing,
"Help me, please! Please help me!"
Mr. Vaughn didn't move. I tightened my grip on my pistol, prayed my voice would stay steady, and repeated, "Jack, put the gun down!"
"She begged him to stop and he laughed at her!" Lindsey cried, looking up at her dad before down at the man who'd kidnapped her. He laughed at her!"
She had to watch her best friend be strangled right beside her, and the man who'd done it was at the mercy of her shotgun-wielding dad. I understood how tempting the revenge for Katie was, but hearing a kid egging on a murder?
"I didn't laugh at her! Honestly, I would change this if I could, but I can't!" Ryan pleaded. I took a breath, and when Mr. Vaughn still didn't move, I tried,
"Jack, you swore to your wife you'd protect Lindsey. Is this the way?" Mr. Vaughn didn't turn, but his eyes flicked to us briefly. Spencer, taking my lead, added on,
"Listen to her, Jack. She – she's begging you to kill somebody right in front of her. What do you think your wife wanted you to protect her from?"
"Jack… your life has been about violence, and if… if you do this, Lindsey's will be too," I pressed. In the distance, there were sirens. I felt my knees going weak in relief; Hotch and the team were almost here. Just a little longer. We just needed another minute. "Is that really what you want for your daughter?"
Mr. Vaughn had relaxed his hold on the gun just a hint. Just a little bit, showing that he was at least listening. Just thirty more seconds, I thought as the sirens drew closer and closer. Spencer took a breath, and asked him softly,
"When does it end, Jack?" Mr. Vaughn's head turned just a bit to finally look at the two of us. At his side, Lindsey begged, kill him, and Spencer pressed, "when does it stop?"
There was a heartbeat of calm. Mr. Vaughn dropped his eyes to look at Lindsey, and he let out a shaking breath. Without warning, his head snapped forward and he lifted the shotgun.
"Tomorrow."
"No –" I gasped, just as Mr. Vaughn pulled the trigger.
Spencer recoiled and I flinched forward into his back as the shot echoed around us. A shaking breath left me; Spencer slowly lowered his gun. One of my arms fell limp at my side, heavy with the weight of my own, and my other reached out to take hold of Spencer's sleeve.
We were both frozen, staring in horror at the body lying in front of us. It was one thing to see the victims already-dead, long gone, not having just begged me for help. Ryan had been alive just a second ago, looking at us in desperation. Though he'd killed Katie and kidnapped Lindsey, this isn't how it should've ended.
Mr. Vaughn wrapped his arm around Lindsey and turned, coming towards us. The first movement from us came when Spencer reached back with the arm I was holding onto, sweeping me aside and closer to him to let them pass. Neither of us said a word, and neither of us tried to stop them as they left the bathroom.
Tears had started to fall, burning hot against my cheeks. It was the only thing I could feel right now; the rest of me was numb. I couldn't look anymore, but I couldn't move. My eyes screwed shut and I let out a shaky breath. My legs felt weak, run-through with adrenaline, and I stepped closer to Spencer.
He didn't push me off as I pressed my face into the back of his arm. He let me hide like the child I felt I was in that moment, scared and sick and heartbroken all at once. Spencer, I realized, must've felt the same way. His left hand reached back and tangled into my skirt, holding tight, grounding himself just as I was trying to do.
There were voices just outside, but they sounded far away. Miles and miles from the horrible place we were stuck in. A door opened behind us, and there were footsteps. Moments later, a new hand rested on my back.
"Aria, Reid… you guys okay?" Morgan asked, his voice warm and soft against the chilling aftermath of what had just happened. I had no words – hell. I didn't have an answer. Physically? Yeah, I supposed so. Mentally…
"We – we tried… we tried, really," Spencer whispered; his hand tightened its hold on my skirt and I leaned just a hint closer. I sniffed, took a breath, and forced out,
"We just… we couldn't –" my words caught in my throat and I shook my head, keeping it pressed to Spencer's arm as I took a deep breath. Laundry, leather, coffee. The soft scents settled deep in my lungs, pushing away the tang of blood, fighting back the nausea that swept over me again.
An arm wrapped around my back, easing me away from Spencer, and for just a heartbeat I tried to pull away. I didn't want to leave the comfort he gave me. The person who was guiding me back tightened their hold and I finally let them guide me back as I opened my eyes. Hotch was looking down at me, his dark eyes softer than I'd ever seen them, nothing but fatherly warmth and concern in his gaze.
Wordlessly I turned and wrapped my arms tight around him. He hugged me tight as more tears fell. He kept me tucked to his side as he gently guided me back out of the bathroom. Morgan, an arm around Spencer, was right behind us.
As soon as we got outside, I paused and pulled out of Hotch's hold. He stopped instantly and looked down at me in concern as I turned around. Spencer met my eyes, understanding the silent question I asked, and he gave a barely noticeable nod.
I rushed up to him and pulled him into a hug. He folded himself down around me, pulling me tight to his chest, clinging to me like I clung to him. It was probably only a minute that we stayed like that, but it felt like so much longer. The last couple of minutes were on repeat in my mind, like a terrible movie that just wouldn't end.
But there, in Spencer's arms, breathing in the soft smell of dark roast and his oak-and-cinnamon-sweet cologne, it wasn't as overwhelming. I didn't feel lost in a sea of helpless or numb, sickening heartache. I wasn't drowning in guilt and second-guesses.
He kept me afloat, kept me from behind pulled under and lost to everything swirling around in my mind. He kept me from suffocating in the aftermath of what had just played out in front of us.
For just a minute, Spencer let me breathe.
Ever since Chula Vista, Spencer had been withdrawn.
I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him at the station – we'd spent almost an hour giving our statements to the detective and Hotch. As soon as we'd gotten on the plane, he'd retreated to the back and curled up by himself.
Before I could make my way to him, Hotch called me over to him instead. We settled on the couch as the rest of the team slipped off into their own little worlds. Morgan's headphones went on, Emily and JJ instantly dove into the sudoku puzzle they'd been working on since last week, and Rossi hid himself behind a book.
Undoubtedly, they were all listening, but I appreciated the feigned privacy.
"I know you said you were okay," Hotch began as I turned to face him. "But… I feel like that's not quite true."
For a couple moments, I thought about trying to insist I was. Honestly, I just didn't have it in me to try and lie to Hotch. So, instead, I shook my head and whispered, "not really, no. I'm just… overwhelmed. And sad. And really, really tired."
Hotch nodded and scooted closer to me, reaching out and resting a hand on my arm, giving a squeeze. "I appreciate you being sincere with me. I know what the two of you witnessed was disturbing and I wouldn't expect you to be okay. When we get back, I'm going to be setting up six weeks of mandatory trauma counseling, with meetings twice a week. I think that, given all that's happened recently, this is something that'll really benefit you."
Between Connor, my ever-growing phobia of chili, and now watching someone get killed right in front of me… yeah, therapy was long overdue.
"I think you're right. Thank you, Hotch. For… just, always being understanding. With everything I've thrown at you, you're always ready to help me out," I told him softly, bringing tears to my own eyes.
"I always will be," he promised, voice soft enough I doubted the other ears tuning into talk could hear. Well, Rossi and his mob-trained ears probably could. "If you ever feel overwhelmed, or weighed down, please know that you can always come to me. I don't want you feeling alone with all of this."
"Thank you, Hotch. Really," I said with a soft smile, shifting forward to pull him into a tight hug. He squeezed me back, rubbing my arms gently as we separated. "I promise you'll be the first person I bother if I need to."
Chuckling, he gave my arm a final squeeze as he stood up. "That's all I ask. Try and get some sleep."
He settled into the seat across from Rossi, already starting on paperwork by the time I passed by him. I went to the mini bar at the back of the jet and made two cups of herbal tea, took a steadying breath, and then turned to join Spencer.
When I sat the cup of tea in front of him, he looked up briefly and gave a smile so small it didn't even reach his eyes. My heart constricted, and I almost thought about sitting beside him and pulling him into a hug.
He'd snapped at JJ when she tried to have the same talk with him that Hotch just had with me. We all processed trauma differently, and I could see now that Spencer was a lot different with how he coped than I was. While I needed touch and kind words, he needed solitude and silence.
Pestering him wasn't something I wanted to do, but I wanted him to know he wasn't alone, just like Hotch had reassured me. Just like Spencer and I had reassured each other in the wake of what Mr. Vaughn had done.
So instead of sitting with him and possibly making him feel crowded, I took a step back. He looked up at me for another moment, nodded, and then turned to stare out the window at the California sun setting around us.
When we got back, maybe I'd try and tell him some facts he didn't know. There had to be some things he wasn't familiar with. And, maybe we could reschedule our date. Even if neither of us felt up for one, maybe we could still just sit together at the park by his apartment and he could teach me about all the trees we could spot.
Maybe I'd still try and call him pretty.
Maybe that would get his smile back.
Happy last Monday of 2020!
What a crazy twelve months it's been. This year has been hellacious for us, but one good thing that's come out of it has been posting this story, and getting to know all of you! Honestly I'm about as sentimental as Hotch on a good day, so I won't get all sappy, but I want to thank you guys SO much for all the love you've given the story since it started, and I hope you stick around to see how it plays out!
This was a hard chapter! The end of the episode always gets me, my heart breaks for Spencer! What did you think of Aria and Spencer with Jack and Lindsey? How do you think Aria handled the case? I can't wait to hear your thoughts!
Again, thank you all for reading, and for commenting! I love reading what you have to say and your support keeps me motivated! I hope you guys have a great week, and I'll see you next year!
