Chapter Twelve
The second video went, according to Garcia, crazy viral. Some of the sites he uploaded it to got more than a million hits a day, according to their tech analyst. Emily had no idea what the average number of hits a day was, for the average video platform, but she deduced by Penelope's tone that it was a lot less than a million. When Penelope pulled up the video, the knowledge that so many people were watching it, enjoying it, turned Emily's stomach in a way that not many things could anymore; even she had to close her eyes as Mrs Douglas was torn apart by the dogs. The sight of it, she could turn away from, but the sound of ripping flesh, she knew would ring in her ears for days, weeks.
"Turn it off."
"Wait." The detective insisted, and Morgan rounded on him, his voice raised, angrily.
"You haven't seen enough, man?" He challenged. Emily was inclined to agree, and furrowed her brows, willing the sound to stop, until the detective spoke.
"Those dogs!" He was saying, "Those dogs attacked someone a couple months ago. I would've impounded them, but the victim knew the owner. Said he was his neighbour. He didn't wanna press any charges."
As he was speaking, he nodded to one of his officers, who disappeared, presumably to retrieve the case file.
"You're sure?" Aaron pushed. The detective was looking at the screen, as though he couldn't believe his eyes, blinking as though to make sure what he was seeing was right. Then he nodded, certain.
"God as my witness." Emily glanced at Hotch, who met her eyes, and she wondered if anybody else had caught the irony of his words. "Three mangy mixes," He was going on, "I knew those dogs looked sick; I called animal control, but I don't know if they ever even followed up."
The officer hurtled back into the room, handing a manila file to the detective. "Here it is."
"You have the owner's name?" Emily pressed, as he rifled through the file. He was nodding, his eyes scanning, searching for it.
"Hankel!" He announced, triumphant, as though all of their problems had been solved. And, perhaps, under different circumstances, on another day, they would have been. Perhaps, if Hotch had paired them up differently that morning, Hankel's name would have been the last piece of the puzzle, and that would have been then end of it. But Hotch's face darkened.
"Hankel?" Something in his voice made Emily turn to look at him, made them all turn to look at him, and it was only then, with the rest of them in her peripheral vision, that Emily noted JJ and Reid's absence. Hotch didn't meet anybody's eyes except the detective, who nodded.
"Tobias Hankel."
Hotch was already heading for the door, his steps heavy with intent. "We have to go, now." And, just by the tone of his voice, they all fell, unquestioningly, into step behind him. "Reid and JJ went to Hankel's. They thought he was a witnes; he was staking out the Kyle's house three months ago. He's been planning these murders."
His voice was tight, sharp. Sharper, even, than usual, and Emily could see the tension in his jaw, in his shoulders. Her own mind had gone blank, her heart racing in her chest, her palms immediately starting to sweat, but she couldn't focus on any of that right now; none of them could. They only made their ways quickly to the cars, and were blue lighting their way to Hankel's house, the police in tow, within seconds. Nobody spoke. Nobody needed to, and there was nothing to say. They all felt the panic, there was no reason to voice it.
Emily took the passenger seat beside Hotch, whose knuckles were white as bone as he gripped the steering wheel. Emily glanced at him, several times, his anxiety coming off of him like tendrils of smoke. She checked her clip. It slipped from her grip, into her lap, as she tried to reload the gun. Only then did Hotch glance at her, and only for a second, as she fumbled over reloading her weapon.
"Are you alright?" He asked, tightly.
"Fine." Was all she could say. Behind them, Gideon and Morgan sat in tense silence, like coiled springs.
They practically vaulted out of the car upon arrival; the wheels were still moving when Morgan opened his door and shot out into the night. They left the engine running. Morgan called Emily to his side, and she went, because it was what she was used to, because habit was comforting and familiar, because they made a good team, and they needed a good team right now. Really, she went without thinking. Ignoring the pounding of her own blood in her ears, she nodded to Morgan, letting him know she had his back, like she knew he had hers. They hurried towards the barn, an officer joining them, and she knew that, behind them, Hotch, Gideon, and the rest of the police were getting ready to storm the house and search the grounds. There were miles of woodland surrounding them; she knew if they didn't find JJ and Reid here, they'd be searching for hours. If Hankel had taken them in a car, it could easily be days. But she couldn't think that way, she pushed it away, shrugged it off. Right now, she had to think straight; not as a friend, not even like a teammate, but like an agent. Impartial. Emotions would only get in the way, here.
Outside, the moon illuminated their footways. Inside of the barn, the darkness was absolute, their flashlights cutting through the blackness. Something metallic tinged the air, and Emily didn't need to be able to see well to know what that was. Nearby, something was dripping, a continual, monotonous sound, but other than that there was silence as she, Morgan and the officer crept through the barns open doors. Something beneath her foot...squelched. Emily paused, closed her eyes a moment, before she swallowed, and turned her flashlight to the floor. Her stomach turned at the red that pooled around her boot. There was no question, then; this was the barn where Helen Douglas had died.
"FBI!" JJ's voice cut through the silence like a shot; panicked, unhinged, her movements jarring, fitful as she aimed her gun at them. "Don't move!"
Emily took it all in at once; the blood beneath her boots, the blood on JJ's shirt. She was completely disheveled and from this distance, Emily couldn't tell whether or not the blood belonged to JJ. There was no recognition in her eyes as she looked at them, only wide-eyed panic and fear. Morgan was shouting, but Emily stayed quiet, as JJ aimed her gun from him, to Emily, and back again, in sheer, consuming panic.
"JJ! It is Morgan and Prentiss, don't shoot!" Something like recognition finally dawned over the blonde, and she lowered her gun. Emily let go of a breath she hadn't realised she was holding, lowering her own weapon as she approached JJ. She reached out a hand, as though to check her for injuries, and smoothed the back of JJ's disheveled hair as Morgan asked, "Are you hurt?"
"Tobias Hankel is the unsub." JJ replied, automatically, seemingly not even hearing Morgan's question.
"Yeah, we know," Morgan said, nodding. JJ wasn't listening to him, she wasn't even looking at him. Over her head, Morgan met Emily's eyes, and she saw that his, like her own, were full of concern.
"I'm calling an ambulance," The officer with them said, and he turned to leave, to go and find service.
"We thought he was just a witness," JJ was saying, staring into the corner of the barn. Her voice was soft, as though, in her mind, she was somewhere far away. Emily followed her gaze and found the bodies of the three dogs she'd seen rip Mrs Douglas apart. They were still, lifeless, bleeding. "I had to kill them."
"JJ," Emily said, gently, trying to pull her back into herself, "Where's Reid?"
The blonde couldn't hear her; her blue eyes were fixed on the dogs, moving from one, to the next, to the next, in a repeated motion. "They just completely tore her apart-" So JJ had seen Mrs Douglas' body. Emily closed her eyes, briefly, but put her hand on JJ's back, as the blonde was saying, "There's nothing even left-"
"JJ," She spoke louder, more urgently, "JJ, look at me."
Finally, dazed blue eyes found her own. Finally, JJ focused, her eyes shifting around Emily's face, recognition dawning, as though she were waking up. Emily watched as JJ came back into herself. Something in her eyes became more solid, more present.
"Where's Reid?"
JJ was out of her trance, but now confusion clouded her face. She blinked. "Oh. We-we split up," She said, looking around as though Reid would appear from behind one of the halfwalls. "He said he was gonna go around back."
Morgan was gone in an instant, racing out of the barn, to look for Reid. Emily stayed with JJ, her hand resting gently on the woman's back, anchoring her. "Come on," Emily said, gently, "Let's get you out of here." The metallic smell was overwhelming now; blood, from Mrs Douglas, the dogs, and JJ herself. JJ let herself be led outside by Emily, and when they were outside, she gulped down the cold night air like a person dying of thirst.
"God, my head," JJ said, and she closed her eyes, swaying a little. Emily put a hand on her shoulder.
"Here, sit down," JJ did as she was told, sitting on the hard ground, resting her elbows on her knees, holding her head in her hands. Emily stayed with her, while they waited for the ambulance, though Emily didn't sit. She stood nearby, one hand resting on her gun, her eyes aware in the dark, even though they were surrounded by police. Hotch and Gideon were still in the house; Morgan was still looking for Reid.
It didn't take long for the ambulance to arrive, and Emily was glad of JJ getting checked out. She was mostly fine, physically, at least. A few nasty scratches, a bite or two, but she was lucky; most of her wounds were superficial, though she needed a tetanus shot, which she couldn't watch as the medic injected it into her arm. She looked, instead, at Emily, who tried to reassure her with a sympathetic smile, rubbing her other arm gently.
"We just had no idea it was him," She kept repeating, "He was supposed to be just a witness. We never would have come alone."
"I know," Emily told her, over and over. "It's okay. You're okay, now."
JJ was all bandaged up, shot administered, getting her reactions tested with a light in her eyes. Emily turned to one of the officers, concern etched on her face.
"Is there any sign of him yet?" She asked, but was met with a frown on the man's gruff face.
"We've got every one of our units on the road; he won't make it far."
JJ's eyes found her, and they were wide with understanding, with fear, searching Emily's for some kind of reassurance and comfort. "We can't find Reid?"
Swallowing, Emily shook her head, tried to speak through the lump caught in her throat. "Not yet. But we will." JJ didn't look convinced, didn't look...anything. She just stared with blank eyes, as though she couldn't comprehend the truth, as though the truth were too much, and then she hung her head. Emily didn't have anything more to reassure her with after the empty words; she could only hope she was right, that they would find him, and find him alive.
When Morgan came over and pulled Emily away, she was about to open her mouth, about to express her concern that perhaps JJ's physical injuries weren't the worst of her wounds, when Morgan spoke first, cutting off any chance. "I think Reid followed him into the cornfield." He lowered his voice, which was full of worry, "It looks like somebody got dragged."
There was something hard in Morgan's voice; Emily did not miss the fact that he did not so much as glance at JJ, who was still folded in on herself, clinging to stay whole, even as Emily could sense her need to fall apart.
Four months on the job, and Emily had never wanted to curse so much as she did in that moment. Her heart hadn't stopped hammering in her chest since the precinct, since that look had glazed over Hotch's eyes, since he had realised the danger he had sent JJ and Reid into. JJ, their media liaison, and Reid, the kid who, from what Garcia had told her, had barely passed his firearms test. Sending the two of them out together, even to a witness's house, had seemed absurd to Emily even before they knew of the danger, and, as Hotch emerged from the house and headed towards them, she found him with a hard, dark look in her eyes. It was the first time since she joined the team that she felt he'd made a bad call. A really, fucking bad call. And it was a decision that could possibly be getting Reid killed right at that moment.
But, as Hotch approached them, as he met her eyes, Emily's anger faded away, replaced with guilt, because she could see it in his face, in the helplessness she found there, in the silent plea for forgiveness. She didn't need to blame him. He was already blaming himself. Reid, the softest, most fragile one of them all, was in the hands of an unsub. And Hotch had sent him there. He didn't need her judgement; he was already judging himself. And Hotch had found himself guilty.
The Hankel house was cold. Not regular, February cold. Stepping into the house, it was as though a weight descended, like the air itself was heavy. It didn't appear overly dirty, but it smelled bad, as though it was only clean on a surface level; beneath that, there was grime. The cold, though, was something else entirely. Some sort of bad energy; Emily had never felt anything quite like it, before. She didn't think any of them had, from the way they all moved around the house, shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, hesitated over touching things.
They were all sitting around the dining table when Penelope arrived, and JJ voiced what they were all thinking.
"Welcome to our nightmare." And she was talking about more than just the house.
"He's been gone almost twelve hours." Morgan was saying, though it was completely unnecessary. If they hadn't each been keeping track on their own watches, which they all had, then the ticking clock in the dining room was an ever present, taunting reminder.
"What are the statistics on that?" Penelope asked, quietly. It was rare for Penelope to ask a question about stats; she liked to keep that part of their job as far away from herself as she could, Emily had learned. Penelope would do her job, and do it well, but she didn't need to know the worst of it, not like the rest of them did. It didn't benefit her in any way to know the likelihood of Reid being found alive. Emily looked at her, across the table, and could see the instant regret in her eyes at the question, so as Morgan opened his mouth to answer her, she cut quickly across him.
"There aren't any," She lied, and met Morgan's eyes with a hard stare. He held her gaze, but closed his mouth, looking from her, to Penelope, where Emily saw his gaze soften.
She glanced around the table, noting JJ's absence, and got to her feet, announcing that she was going to find her. Only Hotch looked up as she left the room.
Emily caught him looking at her, in the corner of her eye, but she didn't turn to meet his gaze. She was still feeling guilty about her judgement of him, mostly because she knew that judgement was exactly the sort of thing Strauss wanted from her.
She hadn't told Aaron about her little bargain with Strauss, how could she? Nor had she fed Strauss any information, mostly because Erin hadn't come to claim it, yet. Emily knew, though, that it was only a matter of time. Strauss was simply laying in wait, and when word of this got back to her, she would come straight to Emily for the raw, unedited, incriminating details. That Hotch had sent Reid and JJ into danger, unknowingly or not, would be like Christmas come early for her.
Emily was still thinking about it when she came upon JJ in the bathroom. She spoke her name, softly, to get the blonde's attention, and for the second time that day, found herself at the end of Glock 26.
"Hey, hey, hey," She lifted her hands, in a sign of surrender, "JJ, it's me!"
The gun was dropped almost as soon as JJ had lifted it, but Emily saw the residual panic in her wide, blue eyes, even as she tucked the gun into her belt. "Are you alright?"
"Uh, yeah," There was half a smile on JJ's face, as though to laugh it off, as the panic settled, swimming back into the depths of her eyes, replaced by some sort of forced calm, "I'm sorry, you scared me."
Emily watched her a moment, before shaking her head. "I'm sorry," She corrected, giving the blonde the once over, noting the bloodied blouse she was still wearing, the way her hair was still dishevelled. It was as though JJ couldn't step out of her own trauma until Reid was found, and Emily's heart ached softly as she recaptured JJ's eyes.
"Hey," She said, gently, "I'm talking tomorrow morning to some guy who knew Hankel from narcotics anonymous. Why don't you come with her?" She offered, as though it were a passing thought, and not a shrewd plot to get JJ into some different clothes and away from the terrible energy of the house itself, "Get out of the house."
"Yeah," JJ nodded, readily, and Emily gave her a soft smile, pleased.
"Okay. Great."
She turned to walk away, to leave JJ to whatever cleaning up she had been doing in Hankel's filthy bathroom, when the blonde called her back.
"Hey, Emily," She stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She was looking at Emily with a sort of...curiosity, as though she was searching for something. Shaking her blonde hair around her head, she asked, "How come none of this gets to you?"
And, although Emily knew exactly what JJ meant, she was forced, by her past, by her cover, by her signature on certain documents, to ask, "What do you mean?" Mostly, to buy herself time to come up with some kind of answer.
"You came off of a desk job," JJ said, and Emily had to drop her gaze, afraid that the blonde would see the truth in her eyes. She chewed her lip, anxiously. "Now, suddenly you're in the field, surrounded by mutilated bodies, and you don't even flinch."
It wasn't an accusation, but it was definitely a question, and before Emily had chance to find an answer, another voice joined the conversation from behind her. She hadn't even heard Hotch approach.
"She's right," Hotch said, softly, "You've never blinked."
She turned to him, her eyes wide, finding his. Their eyes, she had noticed, were almost the exact same shade of brown. Where hers were dark, though; bottomless, black pools, his had warmth, especially when the light hit them a certain way, like it was doing right now. He was looking at her like it was something he had never considered before, with intrigue and confusion.
She hoped he couldn't see through her, to all of the lies she had told him, and everybody else. For all of the nights they had spent together, all of the opportunities there had been to tell him the truth, Emily still didn't trust him with it, couldn't trust him with it. She would let him hold her, kiss her, make love to her, but she couldn't trust him with this. And, even if she wanted to, she couldn't put him in that kind of danger, or compromise either of her teams. He could never know about Lauren Reynolds. So, she would remain the girl who had just come, as JJ put it, from a desk job. And as easily as all the rest, yet another lie slipped readily from her tongue.
"I guess...maybe I compartmentalise better than most people." She shook her head, looking from Hotch, to JJ, and back again. Luckily, she was saved from further interrogation by a shout from outside.
Moments later, they found what Emily would blame the houses bad energy on; Tobias Hankel's father, dead, frozen and staring, in the cellar.
The next day felt like it was full of break throughs.
Emily and JJ ventured away from that awful house, and although JJ's face remained impassive and empty, Emily felt her shoulders relax as they drove away from the house, as though all of that bad energy had released it's hold on the blonde, at least temporarily. They spoke with Hankel's acquaintance, learned of his drug adduction.
"Dilaudid was his vice."
"Drugstore heroin," There was a lilt of surprise in Emily's voice, because, of everything she had expected, it hadn't been that. They hurried back to the house, ignoring the weight that fell over them as they stepped over the threshold, and delivered the information back to the team. As if in exchange, Morgan told them what Gideon had figured out. Hankel was living as three different people; himself, Raphael and his father.
Charles request for Tobias to kill him, to end his suffering, after all of his years of strict religious teachings, had cracked the boys mind right down the middle. Gideon felt he understood now.
"And, yet, we're still no closer to getting Reid back." JJ muttered under her breath, turning away from the table around which they all sat. She raked her hands through her hair, and Emily saw the way they shook.
"Guys," Morgan's voice came from the other room, then again, more panicked, "Guys, get in here!"
Every screen that met them as they walked into Tobias' tech den was lit up with the same imagine. Reid, bound and bleeding. Emily gasped at the sight of him, Gideon's eyes were panicked where he stood beside her. JJ's hand went immediately to her chest, over her pounding heart.
"He's been beaten," Emily said, more to herself than anyone else, her voice thick with emotion. Reid was wearing the same clothes he had been the last time she saw him, almost two days ago. They were dirty, disheveled. His hair was mussed, as though Hankel had yanked him by it at some point. There was a trickle of dried blood on his face running from his temple. From the shadows beneath his eyes, they could see he hadn't slept. Emily wondered if he had even been given any water, from the way his lips were cracked. If not, they were working against more than just Hankel, they were working against time, too. Dehydration might take Reid faster than their unsub would.
"Can't you track him?" JJ demanded, her own tone near on hysterical.
Penelope, however, was eerily calm, as though if she showed any emotion, she would burst. "Hankel's only streaming this to his home computer."
"This is for us," Gideon said, grimly. "He knows we're here."
Emily had to look away from the screen, away from the helpless little boy she saw before her, one who desperately needed and was relying on their help. Knowing there was nothing they could do, not knowing what they were about to see, something finally got to her, and she had to look away, and found Hotch's eyes on her, full of every emotion she, too, was feeling. She shook her head, a tiny movement, eyes pleading, as though there were anything he could do. His own dark eyes closed, as if in defeat. Nobody else noticed their silent exchange.
"I want this guys head on a stick." Morgan said, darkly, from behind her.
"Why can't you locate him?" Hotch's question was directed at Penelope, his voice steady even though Emily had seen the turmoil in his yes.
"He's rerouting to a different IP address every thirty seconds," Penelope explained, still in that same level tone; Emily had no idea how she was remaining so calm. "I can't track him."
The voice that they heard next was not Tobias, but Charles. "Choose one to die. I'll let you choose one to live."
They all knew what Reid said next; that Hankel was a killer having a psychotic break, that his word couldn't be trusted. Even if Reid chose somebody to live, somebody to die, Hankel's compulsions would turn his hand to killing them anyway. He was impelled to do so, but still the knowing in Reid's voice, the helplessness, it was heartbreaking.
"Choose who dies, and I'll say the name and address of a person who gets saved." Beside her, JJ expelled a gasp of air, closing her eye.
"I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave thier remains behind like a poacher."
They unanimously flinched as Hankel stalked towards Reid, dragging him to his feet. Emily could see the weakness in him, as Reid struggled for his footing. "You really see into my mind, boy? Can you see that I'm not a liar?" The anger in his voice, the way Hankel's voice was not his own, but his fathers, chilled Emily. "Choose one to die, save a life. Otherwise, they're all dead."
They all watched, barely breathing, as Reid was forced into the choice. He had to answer Hankel, they all knew it. Emily imagined sitting there, in the cold, on that chair, being forced to make that same choice. His voice shook, as he spoke. "All right, I'll choose who lives."
"All the same," Hankel said, dismissively.
"Far...far right screen."
"Marilyn David. 4913 Walnut Creek Road." Penelope's hands were already shooting back and forth across her keyboard, keying in words Emily couldn't even read as fast as she was typing them. Gideon keyed the number into his phone, and Emily watched as realisation dawned over the woman, and she quickly covered her camera. Then, the screens all blinked off, and Reid was gone.
Emily flinched as Morgan's fist connected with the wall, as he stormed, angrily from the room.
"So, now what?" The detective, who didn't know Reid, who didn't feel their turmoil, asked. "Wait for a 911 call, and hope we get there in time?"
Emily knew Hotch was thinking the same thing she was, when he once again met her eyes. For Reid, there would be no 911 call, not even the chance of getting there in time, if Hankel decided to kill him.