Thank-you for all the reviews, follows and favorites-I am honored you enjoy my story. I'm new at this, so any and all input is welcome. ENJOY!
Warnings for implied child abuse and one violent scene.
Chapter 2
Hotch knelt down by the child, encouraged by their growing rapport. "Nice to meet you Spencer" he said with a gentle smile. "How long have you been down here?" The boy shrugged his thin shoulders and shook his head. "Do you remember how old you were when you first came here?" Hotch questioned. This time Spencer wrinkled his brow for a moment, deep in thought, then responded "THE MAN took Spencer from Mommy at 3 years, 2 months and 11 days." Hiding his surprise at the detail of the answer, Hotch pushed a bit further, "And where did Mommy and Spencer live?" "Mommy and Daddy's house" was the reply. Sensing Hotch's disappointment with his answer, he volunteered "It took to count 2,523 to come to THE MAN's house." "How clever of you to count!" Hotch praised, not really believing it...after all, a 3 year old could hardly have been able to count to such a number. He helped the small, rail thin child put his arms in the sleeves of the FBI windbreaker, noting the network of scars and bruises marring the boy's ivory skin, and rolled them up until his hands peeked forth. "There, that's better," he smiled, "now rest here for a bit while I call a friend to help find your mommy, OK?" The boy gave a ghost of a smile back and nodded, cuddling into the jacket that hung nearly to his ankles and dropping his head, hiding his bruised face behind a curtain of light brown tangles.
Hotch pulled out his phone as he stood and stepped away, hitting speed dial. "Office of omniscience, how can I dazzle you?" came the perky voice of the BAU's technical analyst. "Garcia, we found Miranda Peterson, alive. The ambulance is on its way but we don't have the name of the Hospital yet. Please have JJ notify the family, but tell her I want this kept out of the press. Things have become…complicated. We found a young boy as well, he looks to be about 4 or 5 years old. The name is Spencer Reid and I'm assuming he's local. Check the Nevada missings back at least 2 years and get back to me as soon as possible" Hotch instructed. "Aye-Aye Mon Capitan" Garcia chirped as she clicked off, fingers already flying over keys.
He turned back towards the boy to find the piled blanket empty. A quick survey of the room showed Spencer in front of a pile of boxes further down the wall, struggling to remove a pull top from a small can. Striding over to investigate, Hotch soon realized it was a can of dog food. Not wanting to frighten the child he slowed his pace and quietly asked "Is this what the man gives you to eat?" Despite Hotch's caution, Spencer jumped and dropped the can with a fearful/guilty look on his face, scrambling back to his blanket nest and sitting with his legs to his chest and face hidden against his knees, shaking. "It's ok, you're not in trouble. Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you. I'm not mad." Hotch soothed as he slowly sat cross legged next to the frightened boy, reaching out to gently stroke the child's head. Spencer shied away at first, then found himself leaning in to the gentle touch, feeling much calmer. He raised his head to gaze shyly at the kind face of his rescuer, whispering "Hungry" before lowering it again.
Knowing he couldn't let the boy eat anything until after he was treated at the hospital, in case surgery was needed, Hotch gently explained that dog food wasn't for little boys, but after he saw a doctor to make him feel better he would be given real food at the hospital. Searching his memory to validate what he was hearing, the child remembered bright yellow/orange food that tasted good before the brown smelly stuff HE gave him. "Macncheez?" he asked hopefully? "Sure Buddy" Hotch smiled. "Ok" Spencer sighed, and leaned against the man next to him as fatigue overwhelmed him.
The door at the top of the stairs slammed open yet again, gathering everyone's attention in an instant. The boy jumped and clutched at Hotch, both hands entwining his arm. Stalking down the stairs was a tall, broad-shouldered, red haired main dressed in business attire…and pointing a large gun straight at Spencer. "Come here Boy!" he thundered, "Now!" A look of absolute terror on his face, the trembling child slowly began to rise from his blanket, tears tracking down his cheeks. "Almost" he thought, "Almost safe". "No!" cried Aaron, as he placed himself in front of the boy, aiming his own weapon square on the redhead's chest. "FBI! Scott McCormick, drop your weapon! You are under arrest for kidnapping, human trafficking, and the murder of Joan Bradford. Put your weapon on the floor and raise your hands above your head! NOW!" "FBI? You think that gives you the right to break into MY home and lay hands on MY property?!" McCormick ranted, a mad gleam in his blue eyes. "Hardly! You can have the bitch, I don't care, but you are not keeping my Boy from me. I paid good money for him and he is MINE! BOY! Come here now! Don't you dare disobey me!" Hotch held out his arm to keep the child behind him and countered "Drop your weapon now, or I WILL shoot! Spencer will be returned to his parents and you will be spending the rest of your life behind bars. Now, drop the weapon!" "Returned to his parents? Who do you think sold him to me?" McCormick snorted. "Lie! Him Lie!" spat Spencer, coming around Hotch, dripping with fury. McCormick took aim….and the room erupted in gunfire as Hotch shoved the boy behind him once again. The redhead came tumbling down the stairs, bleeding from at least 7 gunshot wounds, and lay still at the bottom, sightless blue eyes staring upward. Morgan stepped forward, took the man's wrist and confirmed "He's dead".
"Is everyone OK? Is anyone hurt?" called Hotch, surveying the assorted police, SWAT, and BAU members present. All verbalized a lack of injury and he turned his attention to the hysterically crying boy curled into the fetal position on the floor behind him. Dropping down to his knees, Hotch gathered him into his arms and chanted "It's ok, it's all over now. He's dead and he can't hurt you anymore," over and over as he gently rocked him. Sniffling and wiping at his eyes with both hands, the still shaking child asked "Dead forever?" At his rescuer's confirming nod he uncurled and struggled to his feet, then limped slowly toward the body sprawled at the foot of the stairs. Officer Grant moving to intercept, saying "No honey, you don't need to see this" was stopped by Morgan, who explained "Yes he does. He needs to know that this monster won't be coming back for him." Spencer stood gazing at the still body then cautiously leaned over and picked up an arm, letting it drop. He then moved to McCormick's face, his back to the others, and a familiar sound was heard as a small yellow puddle gathered beneath the dead man's head. With a look of satisfaction the boy returned to a stunned Hotch, sitting by his feet and leaning against his legs, eyes drooping.
"Did he just…."trailed off Hotch, fighting to control the smirk that wanted to grace his features. "Uh, yes" chuckled Morgan, turning to try and regain his composure. As the others present struggled to maintain professionalism, with varying degrees of success, the first set of paramedics arrived on the scene and were directed to the woman, who had once again lost consciousness. As they worked to stabilize her for transport, Hotch leaned down and picked up the tired child, who sighed and snuggled into his shoulder, feeling safe for the first time he could remember.