As always, the disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.
A/N: A HUGE thank you to those of you who have taken the time to read and to those who have been so kind as to leave a review. I hopefully will have time, possibly during a writing draught, to do another edit and, and as always shall take comments into consideration at that time. I will definitely consider them in future endeavours. To all, I hope that you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it (Although I will admit that I never thought I'd get past the first page) and leave a little note in the review section with questions/comments/suggestions (Like so many other's I really appreciate feedback).
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Elle sits across from Brooks, who only seems content to stare down his long, thin nose at her. She sits confidently in her seat; not letting any of the lewd jesters he makes with his lips upset her in any way. Cannot show weakness, she thinks as she plays the waiting game for a few more moments. He continues to stare back, then rolls his eyes as Reid enters the small room, more files in hand, he sets them in front of her.
"I hear Virginia PD are through with your thugs. They rolled on you Brooks." She pauses reading his reaction. From the way he slightly shrinks back, she figures this tactic will be more successful than playing nice. "They ratted you out and as a direct result they got their deals. What do you have? Nothing. Seriously, at this point, you will be lucky if you ever take another breath of fresh air as a free man."
"What's your deal lady?" he spits back, banging his hands on the table in front of him. "I've already gone over all of this with those stupid officers earlier. Do you honestly think that threatening me, or making me think that they steam rolled me to save their own Asses is going to get me to tell you anything? I'm their BOSS! I provide them with the money they take home to their whorish unsuspecting wives! Without ME they are NOTHING!" he sighs loudly and waits for her next move.
"You thought I was going to make you a deal? You honestly think that I would cut you a deal? Once the prosecution assembles their case, you're done." She closes the file in front of her and makes a move to stand.
"Why would they send you in, if you don't have any authority? Sending a woman to do a mans job." He sneers, hitting a nerve.
"Who do you think you are?" she pauses, tilting her head in thought. "Let me see. You think you're the big, bad mob guy who plays with peoples lives and doesn't give a crap about anything. Not even himself." She bangs her hands on the tabletop, letting the sting work its way up her arms before leaning in towards him. "Gideon dies, and no one will care if you're body turns up next. Don't think that we don't have contacts on the inside." She turns to leave, her threat actually causes him to think— especially since he's ordered such 'things' to occur.
"Wait, I'll talk. Just don't call Hell's Cleanup Crew." He looks down for a moment, defeat in his expression when he finally returns his gaze. Reid, meanwhile, pens the address and dials Hotchner, who quickly assembles the rest of the team and heads to the location.
---
The door slowly creeks open, Gideon is surprised that he hadn't heard footsteps, or the key in the lock, he must have either really been in or out of it, or been day dreaming again— but then again, he's still unsure as to how long he's been here. The windows let in so little light, he can't really tell if its day or night. His back still pressed against the cool cement, he attempts to hold his head up, at the same time using the wall for leverage.
"Agent Gideon." The voice is gruff, unfeeling, and soulless. Gideon finds his equilibrium and nods. "You nearly had me. Probably should have." He states, putting the leather case on the cement floor with a deliberate thud. Gideon shudders internally at the thought of what he knows to be in that case—and whether or not he has enough time to avoid his slated fate. "But I was too smart for you and your team." He pauses, watching Gideon for a reaction.
"Or so you thought." Gideon stares him down, his gaze falling on the shimmer of the butt end of the gun tucked in the waistband of his black jeans.
"Right. My only problem is that I've been hiding out two months. Away from my home, away from my wife, and most importantly away from what I'm GOOD AT!" he punctuates his final point with clenched teeth and a snarl, Gideon sees that his fuse is short, which might work to his advantage should he have the skill to acquire the time.
Meanwhile, while Gideon abuses his stalling tactic, his teammates arrive and assemble themselves, ensuring a secure perimeter. There is no way in hell any of them will let their un-sub get away. Dressed in FBI bulletproof vests, with guns drawn— poised in the off chance that he has the building guarded.
"We don't want to cause too much noise." Hotchner's cool voice can be heard over their communication devices. Snipers are set up on the surrounding buildings and the team gather around a door.
They ready themselves to enter and Morgan tries the door, happy that for once he doesn't have to kick it in, and nods for them to follow.
"I know exactly what you're capable of." Gideon strikes back; Anthony ignores his outburst and deliberately opens his case— popping the metal closures one at a time, their snaps echo in the space. Gideon can only hope that his team hasn't given up on him— that they will come to his aid. He catches the glimmer of a long blade, which is followed by a rope, cord, and duct tape. Turning his head away, knowing his fate, he closes his eyes for a moment against the pain he knows he will endure— knowing that it's the anticipation of the first cut that is usually the most difficult. Almost feeling how the skin will be parted in this case, slowly and deliberately, a method that's not very appealing to him, he cannot help but cringe.
"Don't you want to know? See how I do what I do? Experience, first hand, what I did to all those people?" Gideon manages to shake his head. "Want to know something? What I do is almost a lost art. Yet I know that you can appreciate that it's one of the best methods employed to get prisoners to talk. I don't want to learn your deepest, darkest secrets, or biggest fears. I could care less, hence the leather strap to keep your shouts of agony quiet." Anthony seems to enjoy explaining his method.
"Do you usually spend this much time with your victims?"
"They would never appreciate it as I know you do." He replies with another twisted smirk. "Just so you know, this is when I would normally place this leather strap between your teeth— I have found that it is the best method to keep pleas and screams of agony to a low decimal point. However, in this case, or at least at this point in time, I don't really see the need." He fingers the leather and closes the distance between them. Grabbing Gideon's chin, he lifts his head, forcing him to look at him; forcing him to remember his face. His face mere inches from Gideon's; his attention is drawn to the dried blood on the wall behind him. "What's this?" he demands, then forces Gideon's head down to inspect him. "They will learn that they ought to follow instructions." He says, returning to his case and pulling out a small box that from where Gideon is, looks very much like one that would hold a piece of jewellery. However, when the box is opened, Gideon can just see the fountain pen that's nested on the cushion. Almost holding his breath for if he thought for a moment that his team hasn't been able to locate him— its real now; and the probability that it will be his dead body that they will be recovering begins to truly sink in.
Trying to make some sort of move, Anthony notices and immediately grabs him by the shoulders, seemingly helping him to his feet, he slams him up against the wall, knocking the spot on the back of his head with a loud thud in his ears. Wincing in pain, Gideon takes deep breaths, attempting to gain his balance. At least I'm on my feet, he muses, opening his eyes, which once again fall on the butt end of the gun.
"I don't usually administer brute force; however, in your case, I'll make an exception." He hisses and Gideon doesn't have a chance to avoid the fist that makes contact with his jaw. He can taste the blood, a metallic flavour in his mouth, which he has to spit out to avoid choking. While he gathers himself, Anthony rushes to the table where he artfully set out his tools and grabs one of the knives and without much thought, he almost blindly runs it down Gideon's left arm, easily slicing through shirt sleeve— a deep cut that quickly bleeds, moistening the shirt.
While Gideon still fends for his life, the team enters the seemingly endless warehouse— with packed boxes resting upon skids waiting to be delivered; well-kept machinery sitting still, waiting to be turned on to resume the prescribed task, and the odd screech of rats— scurrying from one shadowed section to another. They carefully weave their way through the vast space, ensuring that there aren't any surprise guards concealed awaiting for their arrival. Once satisfied Morgan, Reid, and Elle follow Hotchner to the last door. They're eyes still haven't quite fully adjusted to their surroundings, grey shapes and dark corners.
"I must confess, I'm usually far more calculated in my method." Anthony begins his play-by-play. "Despite the fact that I am confidant that there isn't anyone within earshot, I have a feeling that I'll have to be a lot quicker. In which case, you're going to miss out on your experience. I really do work better with a more generous schedule." He works his way back towards Gideon and tilts his head in thought. "Hmm, I wonder if I really should prolong this any longer. It really isn't doing anything for me." Gideon doesn't answer. "Well then. Let the fun begin." He grins and turns around, picks up the other knife ready to truly begin. Gideon; however, has other ideas. Still oblivious to the fact that his team is on their way, he hasn't completely lost hope, just knows that if he doesn't try this— he probably won't make it through this day. In which case he won't see his team members, enjoy time away at his beloved cabin, or a quiet evening at home.
Hoping beyond reason that his strike won't be in vain, he awaits Anthony's return with the knife. Taking a cleansing breath and centring himself— Gideon waits for Anthony to ready himself for whatever he has planned and lunges forward at him; at the same time he manages to free gun from the waistband and miraculously catches his balance instead of crashing to the floor along with Anthony and the knife, which hits the cement floor with an ear piercing clatter. He even surprises himself that he is able to hold the gun between his bound hands and stands firm, pointing the gun directly in Anthony's face. Anthony remains on his back, hands poised, palms up, in defeat.
"GIVE ME A REASON!" Gideon shouts at the top of his lungs, as a moment of liberation rushes through his body, mixing with the adrenaline and excitement. Ready to pull the trigger— not thinking, nor really caring of the consequences of his actions as he finds himself rationalising his actions with however many days spent in this hell hole, sufficient justice. Still unaware of the fact that his teammates and ample backup has arrived, he's sure that the only way out of the situation is to shoot the un-sub, grab one of the knives to free himself of his bonds and find a phone to get backup and an ambulance.
The sounds of the door as its being violently ripped form its hinges, as Morgan kicks it in, Gideon's gaze falls on the open door as his team rushes in. Looking around they breathe a collective sigh of relief that Gideon is still alive. Hotchner and Morgan quickly gather Anthony, one on either side, violently yanking him to his feet, sure to get in an elbow. Reid frees Gideon of his bonds and hands him his pair of handcuffs.
"The honours?" he says quietly and they watch, as Gideon seems to think about it for a moment.
"With pleasure." He replies, accepting the offered handcuffs, and not so gently places them around Anthony's wrists. Hotchner pushes Anthony out the door to the nearest officer, who seems to catch him just in time and rejoins his team, who are all gathered around Gideon in a tight cluster.
"I'm fine." He says in a quiet voice, yet it's betrayed as his legs feel as though they're about to buckle, Morgan sets himself under his arm like a crutch as Reid quickly locates a chair and grabs it quickly for Gideon sit and collect himself.
"Here." Reid says, holding the chair for Morgan to help him sit.
"Where are the paramedics?" Hotchner demands.
"Entering the building now." The response comes through the communication device.
"Hotch, I'm fine." He tries to convince them that all is well.
"You probably have a concussion or something." Reid comments, checking out the injury at the back of his head. "A few stitches for your arm as well." He adds as Elle, who has placed herself beside him, continues to keep the pressure on the deep slash on his forearm. Gideon nods, and places a hand on top of hers in thanks. She looks up and smiles at him; he returns her smile with one of reassurance.
It isn't long before the small team of paramedics enter. Each quickly assessing Gideon's injuries, one using a small light to see how dilated and responsive his pupils are, while the second checks his vitals. Another paramedic has Elle remove the material she had been using to stop the bleeding and quickly places an absorbent bandage on his arm— securing it with yard gauze, then the first paramedic tends to his head wound, placing a large square sterile pad over the still seeping wound and wrapping the yard gauze around his head to secure the sterile pad. The other team members wait for a moment before the initial assessment is complete, and satisfied that he is stable, without a word, they assist the primary examiners in gathering Gideon and quickly place him on the stretcher, then whisk him to the awaiting ambulance. Hotchner had been quick to get the information regarding which hospital they were taking him to; and gathers his team to meet Gideon.
---
Reid paces once more from one end of the waiting room to the other while Morgan sits across from Elle and Hotchner. J.J. and Garcia just arrive, quickly spotting the team and bring them coffee.
"How did you know?" Elle says forcing a smile. "Nothing stronger though?" J.J. shakes her head and hands Hotchner the paper cup.
"Thanks." He smiles and pulls the tab up, letting the steam escape. Morgan nods and begins drinking his. J.J. sits herself beside Morgan and Garcia sits on his other side.
"So what's the situation?" J.J. inquires leaning in towards Hotchner and Elle. "No one has told you anything?"
"I don't think they can." Morgan replies. "All we can do is wait until a family member arrives."
"We're not considered family?" Reid inquires from his place.
"Not officially." Hotchner replies, sitting back in the plastic moulded seat. "However, one of us will have to probably take him home." He adds, as though looking for a volunteer. "If he has any signs of a concussion, they will no doubt keep him for observation for twenty-four hours." He adds sitting back in his seat.
"I'll take him home." Reid says quietly. "While he rests, I can fix his office for him." He adds with a shy smile. Hotchner nods and tosses the keys towards him.
"Good. I'll be right back. I'm just going to give Haley a call, let her know that everything is okay. She's been worried." He stands and heads towards the sliding doors. Reid sits beside Elle and in a gesture of reassurance; he takes hold of her arm and gives it a quick gentle squeeze.
"Gideon is going to be fine. It's merely a matter of a few stitches, some pain medication and someone to watch over him for twenty-four hours." He whispers and Morgan smiles at the thought of the poor lad who had volunteered.
"Reid my man, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into." He says as Hotchner returns and sits beside Elle once more. Their exchange is interrupted by the arrival of a doctor.
"Agent Hotchner?" he says looking up from the clipboard he holds.
"Yes." Hotchner replies.
"May I have a word with you?"
"Of course." He stands and follows the doctor, who the team assumes has been given permission to speak to him with regards to Gideon's condition. After he speaks with the doctor, he heads down the hall to the room. The rest of the team follow and hover at the door. A collective sigh of relief escape their lips as Hotchner joins them, not surprised in the least that they have gathered in wait. "He'll live." Hotchner smiles warmly. "One at a time okay." He adds and Reid enters the room.
"So what's his condition?" Elle inquires pulling Hotchner away from the group.
"The doctor wants to keep him for observation. He's surprised that the head injury wasn't worse than it is. It's fairly mild, considering he sustained blunt force trauma, which probably occurred on Sunday evening. Then it looks as though he had been tossed up against the wall-- I'm sure wouldn't help the matter. The cut to his forearm will heal in time. However, Gideon isn't really himself right now." He looks down for a moment.
"I can imagine." She sighs quietly and glances at the door watching as Reid exists and Morgan enters.
"He asked for you." Hotchner adds, raising his eyes to meet hers. She reaches out and runs her hand down his arm, he sense the fear in her touch.
"Once everyone else has had a chance to see him, I'll slip in. I seriously don't see Reid managing Gideon on his own." She smirks, her glance falling on the door and Garcia exiting. "He's probably tired and needs some rest." She adds. Hotchner puts an arm around her shoulders and steers her past the team and gently pushes her over threshold.
Entering the room, Elle's breath is caught in her throat. Its one thing to see an agent injured in the field, but another to visit after the fact. She stands at Gideon's side and silently takes in the sight before her. His head is still wrapped, as is his arm. He looks up at her for a long moment, a glimmer in his eyes.
"I'm fine." He smiles and she nods before taking his hand in hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I hear Reid has volunteered to take me home?" he seems a bit worried.
"Yes, the doctor won't release you unless someone can be with you." She pauses and gives him the most serious look she has ever given him. "Gideon, do you have the slightest idea of the trauma your body has sustained? Blunt force trauma is serious business. Add to that the possibility of dehydration and blood loss, then a second blow to the back of your head—that alone equates at the very least a mild concussion. Do you honestly think that they would release you without having someone there to assist you?" she puts a hand on her slender hip. "What if you get dizzy and pass out or something?" her tone one of frustration as he seems to refuse the severity of his condition.
"Gideon, it's that or you stay put." Hotchner says budding in. Holding up a hand, Gideon nods his understanding.
"Anything to get out of here and face that bastard." He exclaims. Elle gives Hotchner quite the look before turning back to Gideon and smiling.
"You won't be able to return to work." Hotchner says folding his arms in front of him. "Not right now anyways." He adds with a stern look, his dark eyebrows weaving together.
"Aaron, I'm fine. I just need something to eat that will tie me over and a good nights rest." Gideon replies moving to get up, so he can get dressed. Elle shakes her head. "What?" he looks up at her with an expression she has seen before. He's trying to get a read on her and it always makes her feel exposed.
"Don't you dare profile me." She snaps looking away. "Do you not realise how close to losing you we were? Anthony could have knocked you right out and you wouldn't have had a fighting chance." He can see the fire in her eyes. "It could have been your dead body we found." She adds and sighs loudly. He reaches out and grabs onto her arm.
"Elle, calm down. Everything turned out the way it was supposed to." He says in his soothing tone, and she sits beside him.
"That really isn't the point now is it?" she turns her head to face him and he drapes his arm around her.
"I thought about that. Actually, I had the chance to think about a lot of things." He smiles once more and Elle stands, rejoining Hotchner.
"I'll have the nurse prepare the papers and we'll get you out of here." Hotchner says taking Elle with him. Left in their wake, Gideon merely shakes his head and stands up to grab his clothes from the nearby chair. Emerging from the room, he expects to find Reid at the very least waiting for him, but he's surprised that they all remained. J.J. looks up from the magazine she had been reading.
"I'll drop you and Reid off and then head back to Quantico." Hotchner states as they make their way towards the parking lot. "Am I taking you to Reid's apartment or your place?" he asks releasing the locks and the team opens doors and climb in.
"I'd rather go home." Gideon says weakly. Hotchner nods and gets in the driver's seat.
"You're still not yourself." Reid comments, helping him into the SUV.
"Just don't tell Elle that okay?" he whispers. Reid nods and pulls the door closed.
---
With the return of Monday morning, her customary cup of coffee cup in one hand and her jacket flung over her arm, Elle steps off the elevator and takes her usual route to the bullpen. Rounding the corner, the light pouring from Gideon's wide open door, catches her eye. Odd, she muses, knowing that he wasn't supposed to be returning to work. Walking towards his office, she pops her head around the door.
"Welcome back." She says with a bright smile, carefully masking her disapproval.
"Good morning." He replies, beckoning her into his office. She sits in one of the seats across from him.
"You're back early. I thought you would have a couple of days off to recover." She takes a sip of coffee. "Had I known you would be back, I would have brought you a coffee." He chuckles. "Am I missing something?" she inquires lightly.
"Elle, I know you." He pauses with a grin. "I know that you are furious with me." She nods, and tilts her head keeping her happy grin.
"I'm just glad that you're okay. That you did what you had to do."
"So if I were to tell you that I wouldn't have thought twice about shooting him."
"I'd think nothing of it. Survival of the fittest." She replies, taking another sip of her coffee. "Gideon," she stops herself. "Jason, you forget that I too know you. I know that chewing your ear off, or nagging you isn't going to do any good. So, in this case I'm going to take a different tactic." He raises an eyebrow in response.
"Really?" her smile widens and she nods innocently.
"Gideon?" Hotchner says entering the office. Gideon looks up at him.
"Yes?"
"I just got off the phone with Detective Newell and they need your statement. I have a feeling that the DA would prefer to use your kidnapping over the arson/murder charges." Hotchner directs a smile at Elle, who returns it with a wink. Gideon isn't quite sure what to make of their exchange.
"Well then I suppose I ought to head to the station then?" he makes a move to stand and sits back down for a moment.
"Are you all right?" Elle inquires, placing the paper cup on his desk as she springs to her feet and rushes to his side. He rests his forehead in his hand.
"I'm fine, just got up too quickly is all." He replies slowly rising to his feet.
"I'll take you to the station." She adds, forgetting about her coffee. Hotchner moves aside to let them pass.
"J.J. has a new case, I'll get the details and bring you two up to speed when you return."
"Thanks." Elle says as she and Gideon head towards the elevators. Reid and Morgan lift their heads, watching as the doors close behind them.
"Hotch!" Morgan calls and Hotchner makes his way down the few steps that separate the bullpen from the conference rooms and offices.
"I think I may have given Gideon his chance to face his true kidnapper." Hotchner says in a monotone, both Reid and Morgan eye him.
"You do realise that if given the chance he'll kill him right?" Morgan says under his breath.
"Only if allowed in the same room alone." Reid snickers.
"Before I forget, conference room in about half an hour. If they aren't back, I'll brief them when they return." Hotchner adds.
"Sure, no problem." Morgan says as Hotchner heads back to his office and the pile paperwork that had been neglected over the past week. Morgan sighs when he thinks of how long it will take him to catch up; and cannot help but wish he had Reid's ability to recall facts and figures at will as it would make this tedious task of paperwork a breeze.
---
Entering the police station, Gideon and Elle head straight to the front desk. The officer lifts his head and puts the file he had been working on aside.
"May I help you?" he inquires.
"I'm Special Agent Jason Gideon. I'm here to make my statement." He says calmly.
"Statement?" he doesn't hide his puzzled expression. "I'm sorry sir, but it says here that you're to question the suspect. Apparently your expertise is necessary." He hands the file to Gideon, who in turn accepts them and nods. Elle knows exactly what's happened.
"You wanted to really face him. I suppose this is your chance. Are you sure you want to do this? I can complete the questioning and give the paperwork to the detective for the DA if you like." She follows him as he heads towards the interrogation room. He slips out of his jacket and draping it over a chair, he motions for Elle to follow.
"Anthony Rogers?" he says calmly. Anthony looks up at him.
"Look who's back for more." He hisses, probably in an attempt to intimidate him; however, Gideon stares him down, ice in his gaze as he sits in the seat across from him ready for whatever came his way. Gideon quickly skims the contents of the file in front of him.
"So my understanding is that Oliver Hanson hired you to wipe out his competition?" Gideon ignores the looks Rogers shoots him.
"Yeah, that's right." He replies. "I just thought that it would better serve me to completely rid myself of him and any implication. It's bad for business." He adds, sitting back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him; knowing that the officers don't like aggressive body language.
"I see. So the men you murdered what?"
"It's never personal. What I do is just a job that allows me to utilise the skills I possess." He snorts. "Having you kidnapped was just the beginning of my re-emergence. Ridding myself of you would have solved everything." He adds, then turns his attention towards Elle. She merely rolls her eyes and remains in her place at Gideon's side. Folding his hands on the table in between them, his shirtsleeve creeps up slightly, revealing the white gaze still covering the wound.
"What you fail to understand are the charges the DA will no doubt have assembled against you. Forget the fact that you kidnapped and attempted to murder a Federal agent, you've tortured and murdered at least half a dozen people, set numerous blazes. I'd say you're lucky if you ever see the outside again. You will get the max on all charges, I guarantee you that." Gideon gestures for him to lean in. "Also keep in mind while you're in there that I can make your life hell." He whispers just low enough for Elle to hear. She smirks and folds her arms tightly across her chest.
"How long have you waited to be sitting here with me?"
"Long enough." Gideon replies standing. "And once again. I'm the one walking out of here." He says, leaving Anthony in his wake.
---
Surrounding him are the serene sights and sounds of dusk, caressing his sense like music. He sits himself on the dock, removing his shoes and socks, then dips his feet into the cool water. He enjoys the pleasant memories of times past creeping into his mind and smiles, contenting himself with the simplicity of watching the sun as she begins to set— sinking ever so gracefully behind the trees. He hears the familiar hoot of the great horned owls off in the distance, having been roused by the cues following the dimming of the day. Picking up his drink, he finishes the contents before standing. Scooping up his socks and shoes and taking a cleansing deep breath; he enjoys the feeling of the dock underfoot, then the cool softness of the grass between his toes as he heads back to his cabin— the one place where he can feel 'safe and secure', his 'secret' hideaway that continues to provide him with joy, comfort, and peace of mind.
Closing the door behind and placing his shoes on a mat set beside it, Gideon walks through the open concept kitchen into the living room and gathers kindling for the woodstove from the cupboard. Arranging the wood, he finds the matches and lights the kindling, then partially closes the door. Standing in front of the shelf of CDs, he quickly finds one to his liking and places it in the CD player. Turning it up with a bright smile, he returns to the kitchen to prepare a light late dinner. He had left Quantico a bit later than anticipated; however, didn't want to miss out on the beauty of the sunset, an evening ritual he has enjoyed ever since he can remember— one of the best ways to let the stress of the day, this week in particular, just melt away.
The End