Chapter Six: When the Saints Go Marching In

Each time, at the end of the day, we know it well: If we do not have love we would be nothing. – Kristian Goldmund Aumann

Once JJ had ensured Tate was settled at the safe house apartment, she headed back to the precinct to join the rest of the team. When she arrived, she found the bullpen in chaos, with officers running around, and her team gearing up. As Hotch finished buckling his vest, he spotted JJ.

"We got an address for Carlisle, we're headed there now," Hotch explained to her.

JJ wished them luck and watched as they headed out the front door, giving Will a quick kiss before he left with the team. She could only hope they'd catch Carlise on the first try. Theo deserved justice and Tate deserved to be safe. After all she'd been through in her short life, she deserved to be able to live without constantly looking over her shoulder.

Although she was relieved they had finally found Freddie and were going after him, JJ couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Hotch slammed his foot into the door, breaking it down. The team rushed into the room, followed by police officers.

"Mr. Carlisle, this is the FBI. Come out with your hands up!" Hotch yelled into the dark apartment.

When no response came, the team slowly crept further into the apartment, moving from room to room.

After a few minutes of searching, Hotch called the team back into the entryway. "We're clear".

"Where is the son of a bitch?" Will asked angrily.

They'd been so close and he'd slipped through their fingers. Will didn't know what he'd do if he had to go back to the precinct and tell Tate they didn't get him; that they didn't get the man who murdered her brother and wanted to do the same to her.

"Maybe he knew we were coming and ran while he could," Morgan offered.

Emily, who had strayed off from the group and headed towards the back of the apartment, silently pushed open the door to what appeared to be an office. She shone her flashlight through the room when suddenly something caught her eye-something that made her blood run cold.

"Hey, guys!" she called, "I think you oughta see this". Emily flicked on the light switch as the men rushed over.

When they got to the door, Emily pointed to what she had wanted to show them. Dozens if not hundreds of surveillance photos lined the walls of the small room. Pictures of Johnny at work, Theo and Tate playing soccer in their backyard, Tate waiting outside her school, Theo with friends at a local bar.

"This is…" Rossi trailed off.

"Obsessive," Hotch finished for him.

Reid pushed past the others and walked towards the desk in the back of the room, while everyone else inspected the variety of photos pinned to the walls. On the desk lay a small stack of photos, which, judging by the timestamps in the corner, were recently developed. As he looked at one photo in particular, near the bottom of the stack, he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Hotch," Reid called urgently, "look".

Hotch hurried over and grabbed the photo out of his hand, a picture of JJ and Tate just hours beforehand, outside of the safe house apartment.

"He knows where she is?" Will asked quietly.

Will felt his blood run cold and tried to shove the wave of panic coming over him aside. A bloodthirsty ruthless killer was after Tate and he needed to help. They didn't have time for him to panic, he had to focus.

Hotch bobbed his head, before speaking into his comms. "Fitzpatrick, we need all available units to the safehouse. Now. Carlisle's heading there, and based on what we found, he's not gonna stop until he gets Tate".

Even before Hotch had finished his instructions, the team was fleeing from the apartment and running down the stairs towards the SUV parked outside the small building.
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Morgan sped through the streets of Boston, with Rossi in the passenger seat giving directions. As they hurried to get to the safehouse, Will quickly dialed JJ's number at Hotch's request. He slipped the phone's speaker on so that the rest of the team could hear, and silently pleaded with Morgan to drive faster.

"Will, what's going on? A ton of cops just rushed out of here like the place was on fire," JJ asked him urgently. Will tried to answer her, but all of a sudden it was like he couldn't speak.

"Carlisle has the location of the safehouse, JJ. He's going after Tate," Hotch answered for Will.

Hotch quickly finished filling JJ in on the situation and seeing they only had a few more minutes until they arrived, Will switched the phone off speaker.

"Will, be careful, okay? This guy, he's…dangerous," JJ pleaded with him.

"I know, I will be. I'm just worried about what he's gonna do if he gets his hands on Tate. With the way he went after Theo and Johnny…" Will trailed off, but JJ knew what he left unsaid. If Freddie managed to find Tate, he'd slaughter her just like he did Theo and Johnny, with not a hint of guilt or remorse in his way to stop him.

"I gotta go, we're pulling up to the safe house soon. I love you," Will told her.

"I love you too,"

Will then hung up the phone and shoved it back into his jacket pocket. Morgan, who had been rushing down the street, slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a stop just in front of the apartment building that contained the safehouse.

The team lept out of the car and sprinted up the four flights of stairs to the floor of the apartment. Will, who had been the first one up the steps, rounded the landing of the stairs and immediately saw the police officer that had been stationed at the building to protect Tate. Officer Jackson, a 23-year-old rookie, fresh out of the academy, was laying in the hallway of the apartment, with a pool of blood surrounding him.

The group silently approached the body, and Hotch pressed a hand to Jackson's neck, before declaring him dead.

It was then, leaning over the dead body, that Hotch noticed the apartment door cracked open.
Hotch glanced back towards his team, stood up, and quietly counted to three. On three, he kicked the door open with his gun raised, ready to fire.

When the door flew open and Will could clearly see into the room, he felt like he couldn't breathe.

Freddie Carlisle stood in the center of the room, facing the door to the apartment, holding Tate with one arm. His other hand held a gun pressed against Tate's skull, and a large laceration on his forehead was spilling blood all over his face. Tate also had a fair amount of blood on her face and neck, but as far as Will could tell, it was from the blood staining Carlisle's hands, which reassured him just the tiniest bit.

"Mr. Carlisle put the gun down," Hotch ordered the young man.

Letting out a small laugh, the man responded, "sorry sir, you see, I can't do that quite yet. Tate and I haven't finished our little chat". While he was speaking, he tightened his grip on Tate, and pressed the gun further into her hair, clicking the safety off. At his movement, Tate froze and looked at Will fearfully.

"You're gonna be fine kiddo, alright? Just don't move," Will told her.

Despite his reassurances, Tate could see the fear in his eyes, just like she could see the rage in Carlisle's. She knew this was going to end badly, especially for her. The cold metal of the gun was pressed tightly against her head, and all it took was one little move to kill her. One tiny little move that Carlisle would be perfectly happy to make. Maybe this was how it was supposed to be. It's not like there was anything left for her anyway. Her entire family was dead and she was all alone. Why would anyone care if she joined them?

"Now, now, Detective, what makes you think that, hm? I came here for a reason, and until I finish my mission, no one's going anyway," Carlisle drawled.

"You don't have to do this, Freddie. Just put the gun down, and everyone can leave here safe and sound," Reid tried to reason with the man.

"Yeah, but that's not what I want. I want justice for my little brother but no one will listen to me! No one made them pay for what they did to him!" Freddie screamed, face red with anger, and Tate flinched.

"Freddie, I know you're hurtin'. But what happened to your brother? It wasn't Theo's fault, it wasn't Johnny's, and it certainly wasn't Tate's. The only person you should be blamin' is the man that murdered him," Will spoke quietly, slowly holstering his gun to appear less threatening.

He'd been able to talk people down before. Being calm and rational had worked with the Jack the Ripper case in New Orleans, and he could only pray it worked now. It was their last shot. If it didn't work, Tate was dead.

"No. I'm gonna finish what I started, you hear me? They never found the killer, but I promised Archie I wouldn't stop until everyone responsible was dead, and guess what? Tate here is the only one left I need to get rid of until my job's done".

Hotch noticed Freddie getting more and more agitated, and knew they had to finish this before someone got hurt.

"Except they did find the killer, Freddie. He's in prison, and if you let Tate go and come with us willingly, I can bring you to him," Hotch lied.

"You're lying. I know you are". Freddie took a step away from the group, pulling Tate with him, and adjusted his grip on the gun. His eyes darted back and forth, like a caged animal looking for a way out.

If there was one thing Tate had learned in foster care, it was how to tell when someone was close to snapping. She knew Freddie was close to the edge, was close to breaking and killing her, and their only option was to wait it out.

"He's not lying, Freddie. We found him a few months ago and locked him up," Will tried to convince the man.

When Freddie didn't move to release Tate, Will continued. "Freddie, look at her. She's just a kid okay? She's got nothing to do with this. She wasn't any older than your brother, and she isn't responsible for what happened to him. If Archie didn't deserve to die, how can you think she does?".

"Please, Freddie," Tate whimpered.

At Tate's begging, Will could feel the panic inside of himself building. One wrong move and the young, sweet, and intelligent young girl that he'd grown attached to in such little time was dead. He willed himself to stay calm, and focus on trying to get Freddie to surrender.

Freddie seemed to consider what Will had said for a moment and looked down at Tate, before quickly looking back up and meeting Will's eyes for the first time since he'd entered the apartment.

"I'm sorry, Detective. I truly am. But I have to do this, for my brother, understand? This ends here, and it ends now," Freddie declared, making a move to pull the trigger.

Just as he was about to finish off his very last victim, Freddie realized his fatal mistake. Despite being observant and paranoid, he had failed to notice Morgan climbing the fire escape to the bedroom in the back of the apartment, nor had he noticed Morgan creeping up behind him. But, as he went to kill the very last member of the Jacobs family, he heard the floor creak behind him.

Freddie snapped his head around, and a deafening shot rang out through the quiet apartment. And just like that, Frederick Alexander Carlisle was dead.

Tate flinched as the man behind her dropped to the floor, blood spilling out from the small hole in his head. His eyes were lifeless, just like Theo's had probably been. Everyone around her kept dying. Her life kept getting destroyed. Carlisle's eyes were dull as he took his dying breath and the life seeped out of him. As Tate thought about how it was exactly what had happened to Theo, she realized how hard breathing normally had suddenly become. She was so focused on the corpse in front of her that she didn't notice Will slowly coming up to her and flinched when he touched her arm.

As she turned to look at him, Will could see the pain and fear in the girl's eyes, and he quickly wrapped his arms around Tate. One arm held her head protectively, cradling it as she began to sob into his chest.

"You're okay. I got you. It's over now, alright. It's all over," he whispered to her. As he looked over the top of her head, he could see Morgan leaning over Freddie's body on the floor.

Two men had died in the past hour alone, four in total, and Tate was sufficiently traumatized. Yet, for the first time since Will got the call about Theo's death, he felt like he could breathe again. Tate was safe in his arms, and he'd be damned if he let anyone else hurt the girl his father had sworn to protect so many years ago.

"To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting." – E. E. Cummings