No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.
-C. S. Lewis
"STEPHEN GIDEON!" Hotch led the charge into the warehouse, shining his flashlight around the interior. The beam bounced off the metal walls, empty buckets, sheets of lumber and wooden planks and other random materials were propped against the walls.
"He's not here," Dave appeared at Hotch's left flank, searching the building.
"Do you think Jason played us?" Hotch gripped his gun tighter, prepared to shoot first and ask questions later. They'd come too close to lose Stephen now.
"No," Dave bit out, angrily, "But the son of a bitch is in the wind."
"I knew my dad would choose you over me," Stephen goaded, stepping around the corner, with his arms crossed over his chest. The gun clenched in his hand, angled over his elbow. The waning sunlight cast eerie shadows across his face. "Have you figured me out yet?"
"Where's Erin?" Dave kept a firm grip on his gun. "I found her phone on the way up here. Where is she, Stephen?"
"This was never about her." Stephen hissed, "it's about you, David Rossi. You took my dad from me. You left him. You were supposed to be his partner and he went crazy because of what you and the BAU did to him and I had to sit and watch. I watched him work himself half to death and get nowhere. When all he wanted was to spend time with me. He lost his shit when that Strauss bitch finally fired him and wanted you to know what it feels like to watch someone you love suffer. I wanted you to feel helpless."
"I'm sorry," Erin winced as Alex took another swipe at her, without connecting. "Alex," tears for her colleague, filled her eyes, "Alex, I didn't know and I'm so sorry." Erin didn't remember being overly close with Alex, but they worked together and coworkers were interesting, strangely impersonal but intimate relationships.
"You didn't ask," Blake said, anger leaching into her tone. "The brass sent me away and you never even called me."
"I was a bad friend," Erin sputtered. "You were alone in a new place-"
"You couldn't even bother to call me!" Blake hissed, her teeth clenched in rage. Her face inches from Erin's; spit flying as she spoke. "You were supposed to be my friend."
"I understand…I know why you did this. I know I abandoned you and I'm sorry." She lied through her teeth. She'd say anything to buy herself some time, Richard still held the gun to her head. "You and Curtis wanted revenge, but how did Stephen get involved in this?"
"Curtis died," Alex said simply. Recovering quickly from her outburst. "It wasn't that hard to convince him that Rossi locked him in the house."
"You're disgusting!" Erin hissed as the blade pressed against her collarbone. "Hot blood trailed down her shirt. "You took advantage of his grief-"
"I'm not the only one who capitalized on someone's grief."
"You took my dad from me when I was a kid!" Stephen cried, aiming the gun level with Rossi's forehead, "then the BAU killed John. You didn't have to leave him in there!" He shook with rage and repressed grief. "He was my friend and you let him die!"
"I'm sorry," Dave kept his tone even. "I'm sorry he died, Stephen, but I wasn't there when the explosion happened."
"Liar!"
"Stephen…" Hotch cut in, as the gun trembled in Stephen's hand, his finger twitched dangerously close to the trigger. "Your dad is outside. He's here and he's waiting for you to come outside."
"That's not true, he's on his way to Canada-"
"He was only going to Canada to protect you-" Hotch said.
"That's not true either! He doesn't know what I did!"
"He's your dad, Stephen." Hotch kept his tone level and calm, "parents know things about their kids, and he knew you were in trouble. You didn't kill anyone; he knew you would be protected-"
"That's not true-" Erin argued.
"You knew Gideon was hanging on by a thread," Blake goaded, "you could have offered him retirement; God knows he deserved it. Instead, you let him keep going until he snapped, and you fired him. Of all the people you could have brought in-"
"Leave David out of this-" Erin snarled. "He has nothing to do with this-"
"She didn't even kiss him goodbye," Richard chimed in.
"Isn't that sad…" Alex mocked her, "poor Rossi. He's prepared to lose everything he spent his life building, for someone who wouldn't even kiss him goodbye. It's too bad that he's letting you take his lashings." Then she took the blade and slashed it across her baby-bump. "He's not coming to save you. Even if they do find you, it'll be too late."
Erin cried out in pain; tears stung her eyes as she took stock of her injuries. Shallow cuts on both legs, her belly stung, and blood soaked through her shirt.
"Hey now," Richard cut in, his deep baritone voice perfectly calm. "That's enough, Blake. I don't know shit about birthin' no babies."
"You stay out of this!" Blake demanded, brandishing the blade, angling it towards Richard's neck. Letting him know that she wouldn't hesitate to gut him, from throat to scrote.
"This bitch is mine," Richard declared, grabbing Erin by the hair. "If anyone's getting rid of her, it's me."
He dragged her across the room, then shoved the chair over, knocking Erin to the floor. She bit back a scream as her head collided with the wall. Her vision clouded with dust.
Blake was right, by the time anyone found her, it would be too late. She had to go somewhere else, or she wouldn't make it. Her mind flooded with thoughts of her children; she shoved those images to the back of her mind as quickly as they came. It was too hard. She couldn't face the idea of never seeing them again. Never meeting the boy who wiggled under her rib cage…. Instead, she thought of David.
He was coming for her; he would look out for her children and keep her memory alive. Even if she died on that dirt floor. She sank into the floor, letting it cradle her. On instinct, she curled forward, protectively around her belly and the gun on her ankle shone like a beacon.
"He never chose me!" Stephen's strangled tone echoed through the metal building. "He never has, and he never will." The gun lowered and Stephen took off, sprinting around the corner and into the dark.
"Stephen!" Hotch took off, following him through the building with Rossi at his flank. Their thundering footsteps resounded off the wall they ran. Chasing Stephen through the dark building, around the corner. They came to the hallway, "Stephen Gideon!" Dave called, aiming his weapon at his shoulder blades.
Stephen didn't even blink as he squatted forward, pulled the rope, lifting a piece of wood and jumped through the trap door.
"Sonofabitch," Dave bit out, shoving his weapon in the holster he grabbed the door with one hand and angled his flashlight with the other. "He's underground," Dave called out, angling the flashlight around the cavernous space. The beam bounced off the dirt, a seemingly endless hole that led nowhere. Aside from the rope ladder that dangled off the side of the door. He moved the flashlight, to inspect the ladder. The rope was frayed, where Stephen had tried to cut it on his way down.
"Stay up here and call for backup." Then he gingerly stuck one foot on the ladder and followed Stephen.
"Get up," Alex hissed, dragging the chair back into an upright position.
"It's about time you picked me up. I was getting dizzy-" Erin deadpanned, without missing a beat. If she could keep Blake's mind busy, she would be more likely to put down the knife. A battle of wills and a healthy dose of snide sarcasm would hopefully extend her life.
"I'm not surprised," Blake's voice took on that too casual tone again. "You've always been loose in the head."
"I'm struggling to keep up. You and Curtis decided to come after me and Stephen picked up where Curtis left off, once he died?" Erin asked, her voice soft and monotone. Sweat rolled down her face, mingling with the blood on her neck. "Is that how it happened? What about you?" She shifted, trying to get some feeling in her legs. If she could get to the holster on her ankle, she could take control of the situation. She raised her head, pressing the barrel of the gun harder against her hair. "Richard, how did you get involved in all this?"
"Money talks, Ma'am." He pulled the gun away and shoved it in his holster. "But this whole thing is stupid. All this work over a decade's old grudge… Blake if you were this pissed off, you should have acted sooner."
"She couldn't-" Erin cleared her throat and spat on the dirt floor. "She needed John to get it started. Then she recruited Stephen because she thought he would take the fall."
"Typical," Richard sneered, shaking his head. "The attractive woman thinks she can get off if there's a dude involved."
"Nobody asked you," Alex bit out, raising her gaze to Richard's. "I don't pay you to talk-"
"She does." Richard countered, inclining his head towards Erin. "I'm still on Rossi's payroll-"
"That'll be a real problem for you," Blake sneered. "I'll be out of here before they catch up and all anyone's going to find is you, a gun and a pregnant woman who's tied up and beat to hell."
"Then I'd start running," Richard said, suppressing a grin. He thought about Erin's phone that he'd tossed onto the trail on the way to the warehouse. No doubt Rossi was going to be looking for her and it wouldn't take longer than a commercial break for the full force of the FBI to track that phone.
"You should be proud of yourself," Erin forced her head up, locking eyes with Blake. "You blackmailed Craig Edwards into spreading your MDMA concoction, manipulated Stephen Gideon and paid off my bodyguard." For all Blake was worth, she'd accomplished a lot in the last few weeks. "That takes guts, Alex. Guts and ambition."
"Edwards was a red herring," her tone was still absurdly casual. "He went right so you would go left." Blake turned away and pulled a bottle of whiskey from the bag hanging in the corner. "Speaking of which."
"Well done," Erin nodded. "Now all you have to do is kill me, but if I were you, I wouldn't expect to walk out of here alive."
"I'm not going to kill you," Blake reached into her pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag. "I'm going to make you beg for death." She tipped the bottle to her lips then added the contents to the bottle. "Go on." She forced the bottle into Erin's palm. "Make this easy."
"No." Erin dropped the bottle to the floor, letting the liquor puddle onto the dirt floor. She would fight until the bitter end, even if she died in the process. She would go down swinging. "You're not doing this to me again!"
"Wanna bet?" Alex challenged, she bent down and grabbed the bottle, an excited glare in her eyes. Before straddling Erin's legs and forcing her mouth open with one hand. The other tipped the bottle back, passed gnashing teeth and an errant tongue.
Erin tried to scream but the sudden burning in her throat cut her off. "You always were a cheap and simple bitch!" Erin sputtered; whiskey dripped down her face. Her throat burned, from the alcohol, laced with poison, it was becoming a familiar feeling. On instinct, her hands stretched out in front of her; the chains from the handcuffs shoved against Alex's throat. "Knock this shit off." Erin hissed; Alex's eyes went wide in panic. The sudden lack of oxygen made her forget that she still had the upper hand. The knife dropped with a dull thud onto the floor.
"I'm telling ya," Richard drolled from across the room, he watched in slight amusement. He barely held back his smirk. "You throw her into labor and you're cleaning up the mess."
"You're not a killer," Blake gasped as her lips turned blue and her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. "Keep going and you'll kill me."
"That wouldn't be a bad turn of events," Erin said, angling her face to Blake's as best she could. "Let me go."
"You'll die here," Blake hissed, clawing against the chain. Only then did Erin pull back, letting Alex drop to her knees. She wasn't a murderer; Alex was right about that.
Alex stumbled to her feet; fresh rage shone in her eyes. "I don't think you realize who's in charge here," her jaw clenched as she swung the knife, swiping dangerously close to Erin's face.
"Richard!" Stephen huffed, slamming the door behind him, his face bright red with exertion. He froze, eyes widened in horror. This was most definitely not what he expected to see. "What the fuck is going on here?" Stephen's gaze fell on Erin. "You weren't supposed to fucking kill her!"
"She's not dead," Alex deadpanned.
"What the fuck happened?" Stephen's mind raced, this wasn't supposed to go down this way. He wanted to scare Strauss, fuck her up with the MDMA, make her paranoid. Killing her wasn't part of the plan.
"Alex!" Stephen's voice filled the room, and suddenly Alex was pinned against the wall under his hand. "We're done with this," he demanded. For the first time, Erin recognized real fear in Alex's expression as he shoved his gun against Blake's temple. "Let her go-" If she didn't, the bullet in the chamber had her name on it.
"F-fine." Alex nodded, gasping for breath. "Untie her."
Alex crumpled to the floor in a heap and Stephen holstered his gun. Taking the knife from Alex, he stooped down in front of Erin; without looking at her. "You're fine." He muttered, more to himself than her. "You're fine…you're going to leave…" he cut through the tape on one side, freeing her leg. "You're okay. You're getting out of here."
Richard laughed, a hard and brittle laugh at Stephen. "Dude. Do you really think you run this show?" Stephen's hands froze as Richard pressed a gun to the back of his head.
"Richard, leave him alone!" Erin snarled, "remember, you're still on David's payroll and I know he's paying you better than Alex ever could."
"F-fine." Alex nodded, gasping for breath. "Untie her."
Alex crumpled to the floor in a heap and Stephen holstered his gun. Taking the knife from Alex, he stooped down in front of Erin; without looking at her. "You're fine." He muttered, more to himself than her. "You're fine…you're going to leave…" he cut through the tape on one side, freeing her leg. "You're okay. You're getting out of here."
"The sonofabitch is playing both sides," Blake growled, her eyes flashed in anger. "Stephen, you need to get rid of him-"
"No, Stephen." Erin countered, "Alex dragged you into this. She brought you in so you could take the fall for her-"
Stephen pivoted, now aiming the gun at Blake. His eyes widened in confusion. "Is that true?"
"Of course not," Blake chuckled, her voice weak and awkward. "Why would I do that Stephen?"
"That's what she wants you to think, Dude."
"You shut up!" Stephen screamed, aiming the gun at Richard. "Nobody asked you!"
"He's right," Erin chimed in. "You couldn't have accomplished all this by yourself-"
"No one asked you, either!" Stephen screamed, his face shone bright red, and his eyes were wide, like an unbroken horse.
"She's lying-" Blake snapped, "Stephen, you and I are a team. We've always been on the same side. Remember? All the time we spent together, with John?" Her tone turned wistful, "Stephen, he loved you-"
"He was a psychopath!" Erin argued, throwing her head back, "he murdered people, Stephen. I'm sure he didn't tell you that part."
"You don't know anything about him!" Stephen hissed; angry tears rolled down his dirty face. "Don't talk about him like that."
"I know he looked out for you when your parents divorced… he spent time with you… it's okay to miss that part of him-"
"I told you to shut up!" The gun trembled in his hand as he spoke, angling the muzzle at her.
"Uh huh," Erin hunched forward, against the sudden pain shooting through her abdomen. She forced her eyes to stay open, if she closed them now; they might not open again. Her mind flashed to David, no real thoughts, just his face. He would find her, eventually. Forcing herself not to scream out, she bent forward, the gun on her ankle wouldn't guarantee her survival, but it would even the playing field.
Blake's and Stephen's voices mingled across the room; they were too busy arguing to pay attention to her. Stephen's back was to her, his gun was trained on Richard now. Erin reached forward, the metal cuffs biting into her wrists; seized the gun with both hands and fired. Before it all went dark.
Shots rang out, echoing through the woods. Jason knew. Call it parental instinct or the second nature that came with the lifelong career in law enforcement. His gut clenched while his hands shook against the steering wheel. He stepped out of the car, letting his knees buckle. Jason couldn't stop the scream that tore from his throat. "Stephen!"
Dun. Dun. Dun. If you're hangin' on for the ride, let me know.