Fate Of Mine

by LadyKimmey

When deciding to investigate a case Sam discovers that it wasn't by chance. They are being led by someone and threatened by others that will stop at nothing to prevent their interference. Is it coincidence when they stumble upon a thirty-year old case involving a crib fire? Does it have anything to do with Sam's past or everything to do with the FBI agent that is also searching?

2. Chapter 2

A/N: Next chapter, hope you enjoy.

.

.

.

Chapter Two

Today wasn't a good day, when it should be. Spencer tried to lighten his mood seeing the suit grace him with a brief glance of his lover, if only for three seconds it took for Hotch to walk across the room. His heart felt lighter recalling the promise of spending the weekend together. The last few nights had been spent in Aaron's bed, a step towards something more permanent. Jack had no idea that Spencer had left the couch to climb into his father's bed, but the boy hadn't been distraught that his father's friend had stayed the night.

The requested stack of paperwork remained untouched next to his elbow, JJ's unfinished work that he had promised to do so the mother could go home early to sick children. The worried expression had kept him from asking to be allowed to leave early as well. The tension between his temples was getting worse, feeling like explosions going off behind his eyes. The first pain had made an appearance just before dawn, making it impossible to fall back asleep. Six painkillers later and it was increasing. The hollow throbbing pulsed with each heartbeat.

"We can't be wrong, he is the one."

That wasn't a positive sign either. Fingers gently massaged both temples, trying to alleviate some of the tension that had him close to weeping. Spencer didn't want to alert anyone to his predicament, it would only cause unneeded worry. The headache was from stress and overworking himself for the last few weeks.

"He's beautiful, must we?"

The feminine voice carried a high-pitch, like an overzealous child. Spencer counted to ten to will the voices away. Without bringing attention to himself, he glanced around the office, looking for anyone close enough to overhear. No one, the area was empty for several cubicles. There wasn't a person close enough to hear as if they were speaking directly into his ear. Not caring that others might believe he had fallen asleep at the desk, he cupped his head and focused on the pain.

"Kill him while he is weak, or we may fail. He still sleeps."

"So beautiful, I want him."

"Reid," Aaron spoke loud enough for his voice to carry to the bowed head. The pale features turned at his voice, weariness etched on the lovely face. It was pitiful how seeing the exhaustion and the worry made him feel. With just a look and he longed to rush down the few steps and gather the slender male in his arms, consequences be damned. If only the genius was observant enough to truly see what was going on. It wasn't the right time to bring up his own insecurities, not when he couldn't commit fully. Just a bit longer and he would be able to give Spencer the relationship that he wanted, that the doctor deserved. The only approval he cared about was Jack's, and that went but so far. At first his son may not understand why he would prefer a male to a woman. That was the reason he was trying to bring Spencer around more, so his son could also come to love him as much as he did.

"Yeah, Hotch?" The name stumbled out, Spencer catching himself before he called the boss by his given name while in the office.

"Can you come to my office?" Aaron stepped away from the door knowing his request would be fulfilled. He reached over to slowly close the shades, to keep out prying eyes. Others would assume that he was in a meeting and didn't wish to be spied up. He was in the process of removing his coat when he was joined. "Close and lock the door."

It was done and Spencer sighed feeling the hands on his waist before he could take a step further into the office. The embrace was welcomed and temporarily distracted from the headache. "Did you need me for something?"

"Yes, but we'll have to wait until we get back to my place." To do so here would risk getting caught. Dave was still in his office next door and things could get loud. If Spencer began to get loud, he wouldn't have the desire to ask him to quiet down. The hot, little noises were a turn on and the sex wouldn't be the same without them. "How are you feeling? Do you still have the headache?"

"It's gotten worse," Spencer turned in the embrace to lean his head onto the broad shoulders. One thing he loved about the man, the strong shoulders. Having such a small frame himself, he liked the way it felt to be held by someone so much stronger than himself. They were close in height but Aaron was twice the man he was in every sense. "This helps, it's been a long day."

"It has, and it was sweet of you to insist on helping JJ when you obviously don't feel well." Aaron had come close to snapping at the mother of two when she had more or less played Spencer like a pro. The children weren't that ill, mild colds, but he had heard the two blondes discussing a double date during their lunch break. They were going out tonight so the children weren't going to be rushed to the emergency room any time soon. What kept his mouth shut was hoping that it would put them in this very predicament. The office was close to being cleared out and he would be able to have the genius to himself for a while.

"It's just a headache," and he was hearing things. At the moment, the voices had been drowned out to incoherent whispering. Horror filled his veins at the implication of hearing things could possibly mean for someone with his family history. Hearing people talking in his head wasn't a good sign and he prayed that it was a sign of being exhausted and not something else.

"You look peaked and you didn't sleep well last night," Aaron was growing concerned. They had come to an agreement of sorts and had spent the last three nights together. Spencer had readily accepted the invite to stay at his place. It had been nice to have his lover beside him at night.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you awake." From the increased heartrate, the sweat, and the throbbing erection, it hadn't been a nightmare. Spencer had almost panicked when the arm draped around his waist last night had ventured south after he had woken up with a start. How embarrassing and conflicting to tell one's lover that the person in his dream hadn't been them. He couldn't recall most of it but the other male in his dream had been younger than his boss.

"I don't mind, I am happy as long as you are there to wake me." Aaron summoned the strength to put space between them. "Do you feel up to coming home with me tonight?"

Tonight? Could he accept another night together? If not for the headache, Spencer would have jumped at the chance to spend time with him. If he spent another night, it would be some time before they could relax and go to bed. Aaron had a routine, one that was very strict. First, Jack would be picked up, they would have dinner, Aaron then helped his son with any homework, and then Jack would get ready for bed. It would be after nine before the boy was ready to settle down for the night. It would be close to ten or later before they could sneak into the room together. Sex was anywhere between fifteen minutes to half an hour, putting him to get his own rest after midnight. Five came early when one was exhausted. "I haven't been home in days. Do you mind if we plan for the weekend?"

"Of course not," Aaron placed a chaste kiss on the chalky forehead. He didn't like the idea of Spencer going home alone when he was ill. He had to trust that if it were serious, his lover would confide in him. "Jessica called earlier to confirm that she will be picking Jack up after school. They'll be gone until Sunday evening, so we'll have plenty of time together."

"Looking forward to it," Spencer was grateful for the time alone. It sucked having to sit away from his boyfriend because Jack might question things if they got caught holding hands. "Call me tonight?"

"As soon as he's asleep. Go immediately home and get some rest, I'll be calling to check on you later and if you don't feel better by the morning I want you to take the day off and see a doctor."

"I will," he feared he might not need to see a general physician. Diagnosing schizophrenia was difficult but it would be one of the things the doctors would suggest the moment he told them he was hearing things. Spencer accepted the light kiss being offered before moving away.

The office door was pulled open and the balled fist paused before coming down on his chest. Spencer blushed at the raised eyebrow of the Italian but said nothing to explain why he had been behind closed doors with their boss. If Rossi wanted to ask about their relationship, then it wouldn't be to him. The man stepped inside the door he had just fled through and it closed gently to shut him off from Aaron. With no reason to remain at the office any longer, his belongings were packed and tossed into his shoulder bag.

The elevator dinged as he approached and the doors opened, saving him the trouble of having to wait. He waited a second for the person inside to exit but the man remained. A hand shot out to prevent the doors from closing on him. "Are you going down?"

"Yes, I am." The man scooted over to allow him to pass.

"First floor, please." Spencer asked since the gentleman was closer to the panel and the one button wasn't lit. Odd, no other floors were lit up to indicate where the man was going. One had to push something to get the elevator to move and the floor button should remain lit until that specified floor was reached. So where had the man been going if not for the floor he had just stepped from? He stepped back to get a better look at the person in the slowly moving box with him. White, mid-fifties, brunette, and he smelt. It was becoming stronger as each second passed and the ventilation in the elevator wasn't good enough to keep it from becoming unbearable. Another odd thing because the man was dressed in an Armani suit and wearing a Rolex, the man could surely afford a shower. Was it a brand of cigarettes? He'd have to describe the aroma being that of burnt urine. Being unhygienic could explain away the long nails adorning the wrinkled hands. It just didn't add up, the man was filthy and wearing expensive clothes.

The longer he was contained in the elevator, the more uncomfortable he became. Something was wrong but he couldn't detain the man on a hunch. The elevator dinged to announce that they had arrived. Thankfully the stranger stepped out before him and kept walking. Perhaps the man was suffering from a type of mental disorder, not unlike himself. The whispering was growing louder as he watched the stranger leave the building without looking back. How did someone that suspicious make it past security?

.

.

.

.

.

Silence greeted Spencer, the emptiness making him regret not agreeing to spending another night. He longed to call and ask Aaron if the offer was still open, but made his feet cross the room. He wouldn't get much sleep if he didn't stay home and the headache was still going strong. Running off to get laid wasn't going to get rid of the pain, despite what others claimed. Rest would help ease the suffering and time alone would be best right now. Getting too attached before Aaron made a commitment would be foolish. Hell, he was already too damn involved with his boss and as things were, if it didn't work out, it would hurt. No matter how much time they spent together, their relationship was still at a standstill until his lover made that final decision. He tossed the shoulder bag onto the couch then headed to the bathroom. "I need a shower."

Half an hour later, he was under the hot spray. Washing was put on hold to grant time to enjoy the warmth running across his skin. It felt heavenly along his spine and across his bottom. Last night the sex had gotten rougher than normal and it was his fault. Spencer had begged for it, demanding as loud as he dared to be taken harder. He knew Aaron wasn't as young as he was but his lover was more than fit enough for it. When it was over, the panic had been sweet, but unwarranted. As brutal as the last few minutes had been, it hadn't come close to reaching his pain threshold.

While laying together, it made Spencer wonder just where the threshold would be. It hurt like hell when he got shot or punched, but his limits were different when it came to sexual activities. The force should have left him bruised and his opening torn, but he had barely gotten off from the treatment. The use of his hand had been needed to reach orgasm. His bottom should have been sore for several hours. Instead of his ass, his head had begun to throb after sex.

Sex between them was nice, Spencer could only compare it to one other. Aaron had surprised him by being a very attentive and passionate lover, something he wanted. The only thing that was really missing was, hell, he didn't know. It was more of a feeling than an actual complaint. Not once had things ended without both of them getting off, but something felt left unfulfilled, and he had no idea what to name it.

Which brought up the idea of what he had begun to believe he wanted. A time before he had been seduced by his boss. Ideas of finding the one and what HE would be like. Being bi-sexual made it hard to decide on what one wanted when it could be either sex. After careful experimenting with his own body, he had realized that he craved the same sex physically, more than the fairer one. Perhaps his image of what he would want was greatly influenced by his current lover. A manly man, definitely alpha material. This man would have to be just as tall if not more so than him. Thick in the shoulders, fit, and able to take care of most threats. Possibly one of the things he found missing in their sex life had to do with himself.

Reaching behind, a palm caressed the slight curve of his backside. Spencer loved to bottom, he didn't like the idea of being inside another man. His attraction was all for being the one taking. He had to be an oddity because his blood boiled when he ordered Aaron around in bed and it was done without hesitation. If he told the man to get in a position it was done without question. He led things in the bedroom and he craved that control. How often was the bottom the dominant personality when it came to sex? Sure, it was understandable when it was a man and a woman together, but two men? Aaron was in charge with everything else, except in the bedroom. It was what Spencer enjoyed, so why wasn't he completely satisfied with it?

The water was turning cold forcing him to turn off the spray and step out. Pajama pants were slipped on after drying off. Dinner would have to be called in because he hadn't bothered to go shopping since the last case. His stomach was rumbling loudly from lack of food. The cellphone was plucked from the mattress and he headed towards the kitchen with the intention of ordering something from the café down the street.

The light came on to illuminate the area containing the kitchen. Two menus were attached to the fridge with magnets. Any others were neatly placed inside a nearby drawer for the off days when he felt like something different. Tonight something simple was in order, like soup and a salad. He began to dial the numbers and on the second ring something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Without answering the question of being helped, he hung up on the person. He blinked rapidly to clear whatever might be clouding his vision. The image remained no matter how many times he tried to get rid of the strange sight. All of his containers were in the same place he had left them but that was definitely out of place. Opening up a top cabinet, he located the sugar, exactly where he had left it. The crystals were scattered in an area roughly a foot in diameter, dirtying the counter.

One thing he was meticulous about, it was being clean. The counter had been wiped down the last time he had prepared coffee, the morning before they had left on the last case. Sometime between then and today, the sugar had been spilt on the surface. Not a big deal except no one should have been inside his home. No one should have been helping themselves to his supplies. Leaning closer, he spotted a distinct pattern in the mess. After spilling the condiment, the person had placed their hands near the edge to leave behind three fingerprints.

Spencer switched on the overhead light to get a better view of the evidence. He was positive that the other morning, he nor Aaron had come inside the kitchen. After morning sex, they had agreed to getting breakfast out before going into the office. The camera on his phone was used to take a quick snapshot of the prints and saved on his phone. He dialed the number of the only person he could trust to help without saying anything to Hotch. The male picked up on the fourth ring, "Kevin, it's Reid."

"Evening, what can I do for you?"

"Are you still at the office? I need a favor. Hold on a sec," Spencer sent the picture to the hacker's email when it was confirmed. "I just sent you a picture of someone's print. Could you check it out and see if you get a match?"

"Is this for a case and why are you asking me to do it?" Kevin would do it because he owed him a huge favor. "I'm sure you could go through the proper channels to get a name."

"It isn't a case and I don't want to wait for approval to have it ran. There is a chance you won't get a hit but humor me." Spencer was under the assumption that someone running or someone homeless had broken in to squat in his place for a few days while he'd been out of town. "Just get in and see what you can get for me."

"On it," Kevin paused for a moment, "So how is she doing?"

"Still pissed at you," Spencer replied while checking the few windows in the apartment. All were secured and none appeared to be broken. The door had been locked each time he had come home. Nothing else was out of place, wrong. His eyes went to the antique coffee table that was still at the wrong angle from the other night. It had been out of place the night Hotch had stopped by and stayed with him.

"I tried to call her and she told me to drink dog piss." Kevin sighed on the other end.

"You shouldn't cheat," he knew all about it and didn't want to take sides. "Don't say it isn't really cheating because she knew about her. You really should decide soon. No one likes to be left hanging while the person they love makes up their mind about what they want."

"Right, and I think we got a match. That was quick," Kevin hesitated a moment before getting back to him. "What is going on? Where did you get this print?"

"It doesn't matter, did you get a name?" The chain was secured once he knew he was alone.

"I got a hit but I doubt it'll do you much good. The owner of the print is a Mr. Everette Barnes. I got a hit pretty quick seeing as he is in the system after being arrested fifteen years ago on multiple counts of murder in New York."

"Is there an address on him?" He wanted to know if it was possible for the man to be living nearby. Why would a convicted felon be in his kitchen? The man had left his prints to be found and hadn't bothered to clean up after himself.

"Yeah, he currently lives in Willowpeak Cemetery in the frozen state of Ohio. The bugger died at fifty-two, stabbed to death during a prison riot. His remains were sent back home for his mother to bury. Before you ask, I just checked and she passed six months ago. Wanna tell me why you are interested in a dead inmate?"

That wasn't possible. Spencer felt cold seeing the evidence still on the countertop. Kevin wasn't the type to lie so why would a dead man's print end up in his kitchen? How did a corpse break into his home and help himself? "Can you check to make sure that it was definitely Everette Barnes that was killed in prison?"

"I'll send the files to your tablet for you to check out. From what I can see, there shouldn't be any reason to doubt. There were witnesses, several of them guards, and there are pictures. The autopsy also proved that it was the correct inmate. The man had a pacemaker implanted when he was thirty-seven, exactly two years before the first murder. Horrible age to start having heart problems, but the report states that during the stabbing the equipment was struck and then removed on the table."

"Thanks, I'll take a look, and don't repeat any of this to anyone." Spencer wanted to see the report for himself. If the man had been confirmed dead, who had planted the false prints? Why try to make him believe that it was a dead man to break in? The more disturbing question was how close had he been to walking in on someone bold enough to hang out in his home?

.

.

.

.

.

"There isn't anything here!" Dean barely held the ire at bay, not wanting to take out his anger on his brother. It wasn't their fault that the lead hadn't panned out. Not even a lead, more of an anonymous tip. The building was deserted and they had wasted time getting here, "Those kids have another hour tops and we just had to listen to that asshat and come here. Why the hell didn't we go check out the school instead?"

"Because the school would have been a dead end as well and we both knew it. We've been there three times and there is nothing to indicate that whoever is doing this was ever there." All of the children had been attending the private school but there was no actual link to the school and whatever was making them ill. The count was up to nineteen and the first had passed away this morning. The first little boy to have fallen into a coma had died of unknown causes. The doctors had no idea what was causing them to become weak and their health slowly faded until the organs shut down. Something was draining the life from the children and they had no leads. None of the parents, teachers, neighbors, or janitors were suspects. It reeked of strong magic but there were only slight traces on the children. Each had been searched to find the cause, but each was clean. "The call said to come here."

"Maybe that is because the snitch is actually the culprit. Who else would call you and tell you where to find what you are looking for? How the hell does anyone in this town know who we are besides the doctors we are pretending to be? How the hell did some asshole get your number, Sammy?"

"I don't know, Dean. You tell me. We've been running around for five days without coming up with a single clue and I'm tired of watching those parents begging everyone in scrubs to do something to help their kid. We had to do something," Sam didn't care who the informant was, not if it saved the children. They could figure out who was behind the call later, after they stopped whatever was draining those innocent kids. The call had come in early this morning, the voice on the other end had addressed him specifically and said to hurry to stop it before the spell was complete. The building was an abandoned farm house on the edge of town.

"By the time we get back another will be dead. I say you call that bastard back and let me have a few words with him." Dean hated not knowing what was going on. They had no clue what they were supposed to find here or the reason the kids were being used. What the hell was going on in this place? On cue the vibration came from nearby, "Please tell me that is him."

"Unknown," Sam slid his thumb to answer the call. If it was the anonymous tipper, he would demand to know why they'd been given this address. Was Dean right? Had they been sent here to ensure they couldn't stop it in time? Why not just let them continue being clueless? "Yes?"

"You are very slow, aren't you?" The male voice was deep and gravely. "What are you waiting for?"

"Why don't you tell me? There is nothing here," Sam snapped feeling like they were being played with. He'd shoot the asshole in the face as soon as he found him. No one had lived at the farm in over twenty years. There was nothing in the shoddy home except rats and roaches. If they were lucky they could find a spider or two hiding in some of the holes. Sending them here was dangerous due to the state of the floor. "You sent us to an abandoned farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere."

"I can tell that you are allowing your brother to hinder your potential and that disappoints me. Can't you sense it? Can't you feel it?"

"What are you talking about?" He couldn't feel anything but the overwhelming emotion of rage at being fucked with. Sam dodged the hand trying to retrieve his phone. If Dean were allowed on the man might hang up, "why did you send us out here?"

"To stop them but you are too slow. You'll have to do better next time or you just might piss me off." The phone went dead and a scream caused it to fall to the floor. It bounced all around them, the horrified scream echoing through the walls.

"Where is it coming from?" Dean went into the next room, the kitchen which was completely empty. He could see Sam through an open doorway searching the living area. Nothing, but the screaming hadn't stopped. The rats were scattering, a lump was wiggling beneath the rug. "Sammy, in here."

"What do you have?" Sam moved aside seeing the edge of the carpet being pulled back. Two rats ran out to scurry into the next room, away from the pained noise. There was a trap door, but they had already searched the storm cellar and the basement. What else could be underneath the house? "Careful."

"Let's go," Dean took the lead, heading down the lit path. There were candles lined along the stairway to show the way. The pleas had turned into a gurgling sound with a bit of thrashing from nearby. At the bottom was a small room, heavily lit, and two people within. The pitiful moans were being emitted from the female lying on the floor. There was blood pooling from the open wound, something bulky and slick was dangling from the other's hand, ending in the girl's mid-section.

"Fuck," that was intestines. Sam swallowed the bile in his throat seeing the hand tug slightly to garner another howl of pain from the victim. The clawed hands had ripped right through the abdomen, "Don't move."

"Or you'll shoot me? You should thank me, you were too slow. Another minute and she would have finished it. I could have prevented her from ever leaving here alive and using the information she was seeking but then you would have had to live with allowing all those sweet children to die."

Dean pointed the shotgun at the man's back. Was it a man? The claws didn't belong to a human and most would be squeamish about playing with someone's innards. "Alright buddy, you wanna tell us who the hell you are and what is going on here? Are you the one that called us?"

"No, I didn't call you, I called little Sammy." Another hard yank completely removed the length and it was allowed to drop onto the dying human. "Don't you dare try to avenge this one, she had it coming. Even if she were brilliant enough to find a way around the wards, she wasn't smart enough to realize that doing so would lead to her death."

"Who are you and what do you know? What was she doing?" Sam silently prayed that the girl would pass soon. There was no way to prevent her from dying now and he wasn't sure if he would if he could. If she was the one responsible for what was happening to those kids, she didn't deserve to live.

"You need not know who I am, not yet." The man turned to face them, showing his face. A middle-aged man wearing a suit beneath the heavy trench coat. Brunette hair was flecked with chunks of meat and blood. "Just know that the children should recover now and she nor those she is allied with, shall ever find the one they seek. It is in your best interest to ensure it remains that way."

"Wait, you bastard," Dean shouted at the dust speeding past them in a rush. Just like that, that thing was leaving them with nothing but a mess to clean up. What the hell had that meant? Why did he get the feeling the thing hadn't been talking to him? "Be careful, Sammy."

"She can't move," Sam wasn't a doctor but he was positive that piece of bone was part of the spine. The girl was paralyzed from the waist down and had a few minutes at most. Stepping closer he looked at the circle created by the picture of innocent children. The diagram was unknown to him but seeing the pictures proved that whatever spell she had been casting had been the one affecting those in a coma. They would know for sure when they got back to the hospital. In the center was another picture, a baby picture. It was old and taken with a polaroid.

"What did you find?" Dean couldn't bring himself to pity the witch as she took her last breath. There went any chance of them finding out what she had been doing. What kind of spell required the use of so many children? What had they been sent to interrupt? "What is it?"

"A polaroid of a baby, I'd say over twenty years old." Sam pocketed the picture before bending over to take a look at the many others scattered about, no longer in the required circular pattern. "There is too much blood to get a good look at the diagram. This section here is visible, but I've never seen it before."

"Get a good look and we'll figure it out later. The guy said something about some kind of ward, and them seeking someone, we can start there. I doubt she was working alone, but if we wanna trust that thing, whatever spell she was casting was interrupted. I doubt they'll try here again."

"And if this picture was the focus point, we now have it." It was better to use something of a personal nature, a belonging unless they were searching for someone. From their knowledge for one to use a picture it was to cast a spell directly on that person, but why use a picture that was old? "I don't get it, Dean. Why use a picture that is clearly decades old? The baby in the picture has to be over twenty by now so why use an outdated photo? How can they be sure they are targeting the right person? There isn't any type of personal belonging as a focus, so what kind of spell was she casting?"

"What did he mean by 'a way around the wards'?" Dean could only think of one reason for the baby picture and the mention of wards. "Just a guess but she was drawing the energy from the other children in order to find one. Might be some kind of scrying spell, he did say he wouldn't allow her to leave with the information."

"Okay, so she was most likely trying to locate the baby in the picture." Sam placed a hand over his pocket where it was secure. The man had said she wouldn't leave with the info, what information could there be to find from a twenty-year old picture? That also left what kind of wards was she trying to get pass. They had done what they had come for, the ritual had been stopped and hopefully the kids were still alive. "Let's go check on the children and then we'll figure the rest out."

.

.

.

Please leave reviews for me, thanx!