A/N: First of all, I'm so, so, SO sorry that it took me this long to update! (winces) My head just… exploded, I guess. Now I'm back on track, and if you want to read more I've got a pretty solid picture of where this lil' thing is headed.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for those amazing reviews! This story would've never made it out of the dark without them. (HUGS) So THANK YOU!
Awkay… (takes a deep breath) I guess it's time to go. I REALLY hope you'll find this chapter worth the wait!
The Instincts
One of the few things Aaron was truly afraid of was receiving an announcement that one of his agents had been hurt in the line of duty. It didn't matter how seemingly insignificant the damage was – his heart always stopped for several seconds and he was sure each gloomy message took away five years of his life.
Derek Morgan had definitely shortened his lifespan more than anyone else. And that night he lost another five years as he marched up the stairs to Spencer's apartment, his stoic mask never once slipping.
He didn't allow himself a sigh of breather when he found Derek leaning against the wall outside the apartment, holding a ice pack to his head with a sulking expression. It was remarkable, really, how a well trained agent who'd seen it all could look like a hurt five-year-old.
"Are you alright?" he inquired, his voice carefully in check.
Derek glanced briefly towards him before nodding and looking away. Good. At least the agent knew he wouldn't get out of this one without a lecture. "Yeah, although they want to make sure I didn't get a concussion." The man gritted his teeth together, hard. "He… took my credentials, Hotch. I lost them to that son of a bitch."
Aaron took a deep breath, fighting with his all to keep himself from losing it completely. "We'll have to worry about that later. We also need to talk about how you disobeyed a direct order from me." Their eyes met and just one look revealed that they both knew how serious the situation was. He inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, waiting until a couple of chief Reid's officers passed by. "I won't be able to let that slide, I'm sure you understand that. But right now we have a lot more important issues to deal with."
Derek nodded stiffly, tensing up visibly. The man then glanced towards the apartment behind him with darkened eyes. "This means something. He got me – he could've killed me if he wanted to. There's a reason why I'm still here."
Aaron nodded slowly, sorting out his thoughts. "Do you have an idea what that reason could be?"
Derek frowned. "Would you think I'm crazy if I'd say that the bastard wanted me awake? That he wanted me to know I'm going to die?"
Even the thought made Aaron feel cold to the core of his being. Before he could react Emily appeared to the scene. The look on her face promised nothing good long before she spoke. "I just got a call from chief Reid. The officer who was supposed to keep an eye on Spencer and Foyet's hideout isn't answering any calls. They're going over there to investigate."
From the corner of his eye Aaron saw how Derek stiffened completely, even appeared close to throwing up. Upon noticing that he was being observed the younger man quickly worked his hardest to fix the signals his body transmitted. There was, however, nothing Derek could do about the haunted, horrified look in his eyes.
Aaron had been a profiler for a very long time. He wouldn't have needed even one tenth of that experience to come to a conclusion that things were even messier than he'd thought.
William Reid had been terrified several times in his life. But his heart had never pounded the way it did that night, as he approached Spencer and Foyet's hideout with two of his men. The frown that'd been sitting on his face all day deepened when he saw a entirely too familiar figure slumped to a bench across the house.
"Sanches?" he called out, crossing the street. "What are you doing out of your car?"
Wind played with the man's black hair but otherwise the young officer was completely still. And William knew, long before he took an actual look. Knowing didn't make actually facing the sight any easier, though.
There was blood all over Santano Sanches' chest and his dark eyes were glazed over. Despite the brutal circumstances it took a couple of moments before William's brain took in the situation.
His eyes widened and arctic coldness filled his entire body. "The Reaper's been here", he announced to the men behind him, ripping his gaze off of Sanches' body. There would be time for grieving, but later. Right now he had to make sure he hadn't lost his son as well.
Tossing all caution to the wind he ran as fast as his feet could carry him, praying that he wasn't too late.
The house was entirely too dark and quiet to his liking as he burst in and sped through the hallways, his gun drawn. "Spencer?" There was no reply. William's heart tightened and nearly stilled in his chest. "Spencer? Foyet? Can you hear me?"
That was when he found the bedroom. If his heart hadn't stopped before it most definitely did at that moment. He couldn't even breathe.
Spencer lay on the bed with his eyes closed, covered waist down by a blanket. His son appeared chillingly pale, even for him, but the worst part was the blood.
The blood was everywhere – sprayed on Spencer's gray shirt, skin, bedsheets, the walls…
Once again remembering its duty William's heart began to race as he stared at the nightmarish sight before him. For a second, two, three, shock paralyzed him. But then his parental instincts kicked in with a breathtaking force.
There was a lot of commotion in the room but he was blind and deaf to it all as he dashed to his son, laying a trembling hand to the young man's shoulder. "Spencer." His voice was tight, desperate. It wasn't until then he realized just how close to tears he was. Spencer didn't react. His hold on the shoulder tightened and he shook first lightly, then frantically. "Spencer! Open your eyes!" Was his son even breathing? The skin under his fingertips was so cold…
Just then, a mere flash before he would've most likely lost his mind completely, Spencer unleashed a tiny, barely audible groan, wrinkling his nose. At first his son's eyes fluttered slightly, then opened halfway and finally flew wide upon seeing him. "Dad…?" Spencer's voice was raspy, sleepy and confused but William didn't give a damn. It was there. His son was still there.
William's mouth opened but in the end he couldn't produce a sound. Instead he pulled Spencer up with such speed that he probably made the younger man feel dizzy and crushed his son to his chest as tightly as he could. Spencer didn't respond to his hold but didn't push him away either. It was the best reaction William had the permission to ask for.
"Sir." It took a long moment before William registered the male voice behind him. Turning his head he found a latino paramedic of his age. There was a apologetic look on the man's face. "Sir, I'm sorry, but you'll have to move so we can take a look at your son."
William nodded slowly and moved away although it was the last thing he would've wanted to do. Observing the events that followed felt like he'd been watching a bizarre movie.
Spencer was examined and deemed alright apart from some small cuts and bruises. There were no larger wounds on his torso – the blood on him obviously came from someone else.
Those weren't entirely good news, clearly to Spencer either. The young genius seemed ready to throw up and appeared even paler than before as the information sunk in. "George…Where is he?" Spencer's eyes were frantic as they locked directly to William's. For the first time since his early childhood his son was asking him for help. "There was… Someone came in, and attacked me. Is George alright?"
At first William didn't have the slightest idea how to answer – he didn't know, and to be fully honest all he cared about at the moment was Spencer. But in the end he became a stone hard professional once more. "I don't know", he admitted, knowing his son wanted and needed honesty. He hoped his voice remained calm. "But don't worry, we'll find him. Everything's going to be alright."
Spencer's mouth opened but before the man managed to voice whatever had been on his mind the paramedics had taken him away. William felt incredibly cold and hollow as he stared at the space where his son had just been. His heart was still hammering furiously.
It'd been close. Too fucking close.
"Chief." Pleased to have something else to focus on he looked towards the female voice that'd spoken with a thick Russian accent. Officer Katarina Verkova had a nauseated look on her face and repulsion in her blue eyes as she stared at the sight unfolding. She ran a surprisingly steady hand through her long, blonde ponytail. "This blood… If Spencer wasn't harmed it's all Foyet's." She looked at him, then away again. "If it's all his… I doubt he's still alive."
William gritted his teeth, feeling a bit too much for comfort. Why did everything have to be so damn messy? "Call the BAU team", he ordered in the end. "I think they need to know about this as soon as possible."
To Derek hospitals weren't pleasant places. As he lay on one of the painfully uncomfortable beds of ward 27 he truly feared he'd go out of his mind if the stream of very unpleasant memories wouldn't end soon.
"There's no use in glaring a hole on the wall, you know?" Emily pointed out in a voice that sounded far too amused to his liking.
He shot a hard glare towards her, folding his arms. "We've got a serial killer on the loose and I'm expected to spend the night here? Spencer's hurt and Foyet is missing. We've gotta find the Reaper before he gets someone else!" he growled. "You know damn well I shouldn't be here, Prentiss – I'm fine!"
Emily rolled her eyes. "That's one reason why I'm also still stuck here. According to Hotch you're not thinking straigth and I agree. You've got a concussion, and judging by how you're squinting you've got a massive headache as well. We're not going to let you run around chasing psychopaths like this."
Derek snorted. "Hypocrite."
"Big baby", Emily countered.
Mostly thanks to the concussion it took a moment before Derek caught some of Emily's words. One of his eyebrows rose. "You said I'm one reason why you're here. What's the other?"
Before Emily could answer the room's door opened. A male nurse in his fifties with neatly shaved bald head and pale brown eyes gave him a apologetic look. "I'm sorry agent, I know we promised you'd have a single room but the hospital's packed. According to agent Prentiss you wouldn't mind this particular companion."
He frowned but before he got the chance to ask his gaze strayed towards the patient lay on the bed the nurse was wheeling in. His heart gained a foreign beat.
How the hell was it possible that Spencer Reid was in his room? And why did he feel so unsettled by seeing that the man's eyes were closed, by how pale the brunet was? His body didn't make any sense to him at all.
"I asked to get to meet him before I go, to see if I could already ask some questions", Emily explained, her tone oddly soft. He didn't like the meaningful look in her eyes. "And I had a feeling you'd benefit of each other's company."
Before Derek could argue the nurse joined in. "I'm sorry but Dr. Reid just fell asleep and he needs rest. The questions will have to wait until tomorrow."
Derek blinked with surprise. Dr.?
Emily gritted her teeth, then pushed herself up from the chair she'd taken over the second she entered the room. "Alright. I'll come back tomorrow morning. I have to go to the station to see if there's anything new." She gave him a sharp look. "You, behave. I'm going to ask the staff to make sure you stay here and in your bed. If you're up to it we'll give you a full briefing in the morning when you're discharged."
Accepting her terms far from happily Derek said his farewells, then watched how his friend left the room with the nurse.
As soon as the room emptied Derek allowed his eyes to wander towards Spencer. "I know you're awake, so you can drop the act."
Slowly yet surely Spencer's eyes opened halfway. Derek felt a unreasonable burst of pain in his chest when he saw how red they were. The genius had clearly been crying.
Derek cleared his throat, feeling extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Look… I heard about Foyet. I'm sorry."
Spencer shook his head, looking briefly towards him. "You don't have to do that, Morgan."
Derek fought the urge to flinch. Morgan? "I know. But…" He trailed off, feeling stupid all of a sudden. He coughed against something unnamed that formed a ball into his throat. "If you want to talk I'll listen. I know…" And once again the words faded away. He'd never felt as much like a idiot in his entire life. "I want to help you, I guess."
Spencer's eyes smouldered when the younger man looked at him. The violinist looked ready to cry and scream at the top of his lungs as the same time. "Don't, Morgan. Just don't. You don't have to." The man turned his head away sharply, folding his arms. "You don't have to comfort me out of pity just because we slept together once. You don't owe anything to me."
Derek stared for a moment, stunned by this new chilling air thrown at him. Then, very slowly, he nodded and leaned heavily against his bedsheets. His head was throbbing – he was not in the mood for this discussion right now. He tried, didn't he? "Fine."
"Good", was muttered back at him. Suddenly Derek felt ready to laugh and strangle his companion at the same time.
They were like two damn five-year-olds, no matter how bravely they'd crashed into something very adult a blink ago.
In his immature and unjustified anger Derek almost spat out that the sex wasn't so remarkable, anyway. That it didn't mean anything. That he was glad the case would be over soon and he'd be able to turn his back on it all, on Spencer. That soon he wouldn't even remember all this.
But Derek did nothing such. Instead he squeezed his lips tightly together and shifted his gaze to the room's ceiling. He stared until his eyes began to hurt and he had to close them.
And so they lay there, both feigning sleep. Nothing had ever felt so wrong and so damn right.
Aaron's head hurt.
One of his agents had ended up into a hospital. They'd almost lost a highly important witness. Another witness was missing, highly likely dead. A police officer had been killed. The UnSub was still on the loose. And all he had was a goddamn collection of photos of crime scenes and victims, with the knowledge that soon there'd be more.
Although he'd never admit it out loud there were days when he hated his job.
Thankfully his cell phone interrupted those bitter thoughts. He picked up upon noticing it was Penelope.
"How's Derek?" she inquired before he got the chance to say a word.
Under different circumstances Aaron might've fought a smile. "He'll be fine. All he got is a headache. Prentiss just came back from the hospital." He took a breath. "Do you have anything new?"
"Actually, I do. Remember how you told me to run a background check of George Foyet? I just found something interesting." She held a small pause but didn't succeed in calming herself. "That girl he was on a date with when they were attacked, Stephanie… In all official documents Foyet says that he was ready to propose that night but he only met her two weeks earlier. That was their first date."
Aaron felt very cold all of a sudden. Being right wasn't always pleasant. "Thank you, Garcia", he muttered before hanging up. There was a deep frown on his face as he slipped the cell phone back into his pocket, his eyes still on the photos.
Something wasn't right with this picture.
Slowly yet surely his brain began to form the connections. The pieces of the puzzle were finally sliding in together.
Derek must've fallen asleep although he couldn't remember having any dreams because he woke up to strange sounds he couldn't identify at first. When he did he found a frown making its way to his face.
Was someone… whimpering?
Opening his eyes he found something that made him blink a couple of times. Spencer, still fast asleep, was tossing and turning in his bed, obviously having a nasty nightmare. Cold sweat glimmered on the younger man's forehead while he muttered incomprehensible words. The sight and sounds broke Derek's heart.
Sure, things were tense and awkward between them. But there was no way he could let Spencer suffer like this.
Derek took a deep breath, then pushed himself out of the bed and made his way to Spencer. His hand was a lot gentler than usual as he lay it on the brunet's shoulder. "Reid, wake up." The other man shifted under his hold, like his hand had burned. "Spencer, you're having a nightmare. Open your eyes."
Spencer did open his eyes, so abruptly that it scared him – but apparently the dream wasn't completely over yet. Much faster than Derek had the chance to avoid it a fist flew his way, slamming to his left cheek.
"Fuck!" he snarled far more loudly than he'd intended.
That snapped Spencer out of his stupor. The man's eyes widened dramatically as he realized what he'd just done. "I… Morgan, I'm so sorry!"
Derek simply shook his head, unsure if he wanted to laugh or curse. "You've got one hell of a right hook."
Spencer shrugged. "You can't play a violin for seven hours every day if your arms and hands are weak." The man then frowned, brushing his cheek with his fingertips. Worry and guilt flashed in those brown eyes. "You're going to get a bruise."
Derek shrugged immediately, despite the fact that his skin was still on flames. Prentiss and Rossi are never going to let me live this down…, he mused sullenly. "I've had worse." He wanted to tell Spencer to back off, or to at least pull his damn hand off his face, but in the end he simply licked his lips and shivered. His cheek was throbbing – the rest of his body was… doing something else entirely.
He did not like this, at all. This was disturbing and humiliating.
Derek cleared his throat, finally managing to take a step further. "I… My team is going to come and see you, tomorrow. We need to ask you some questions."
Spencer nodded. Derek could actually see how the younger man withdrew into his shell and a wave of guilt crashed right through him. The young genius folded his arms and looked away. "About the attack?"
Derek nodded until he realized that the other wasn't even looking. His mouth opened for several times before he spoke. "Yeah. We know you have a eidetic memory. You may have spotted something valuable."
Spencer shuddered, appearing ready to vomit. He was quite clearly not ready to face these memories and Derek felt like a bastard for pushing him. "George could be gone. I…" The voice was small, almost frail, until it faded away completely. "Morgan, I was drugged. My head wasn't exactly straigth, still isn't. All I remember is bits and pieces."
Derek shrugged, feeling a barely controllable need to grab the other man's hand for support. "It's okay." He sincerily hoped that didn't sound as lame as it tasted. "Just… close your eyes, and let your head lead you."
Spencer didn't seem to hear, anyway. There was a distant, glazed over look in the younger man's eyes. "George… was already asleep. I tried not to wake him up but I'm pretty sure he moved when I left the room. And then I… think I was taking a shower. My thoughts were… twirling." Was that a blush he saw on the other's face? He'd never get to know because all of a sudden the expression changed entirely. Spencer's whole demeanor changed. "Someone entered the bathroom, before it became dark."
Derek frowned, seeing how Spencer's face grew paler and paler right before his eyes. "Reid?" There was no reaction whatsoever. His heart leapt painfully. "Spencer, are you okay? Should I go and get someone?" Because he sure as hell had no idea what to do and it freaked him out.
Spencer didn't hear. The man actually gagged dryly before barely audible words slipped through. "I smelled roses."
Derek's frown deepened while his worry for the younger man grew. "Roses?" What the hell was Spencer talking about?
It took ages but eventually Spencer looked at him. There was a tornado of emotions in the man's eyes, stripped bare and exposed. "You should… I think you should call your team." The genius swallowed convulsively. "George, he's… not a victim, Morgan. I'm pretty sure he's your UnSub."
On a far edge of the city a lone figure stood on the side of a lonely, quiet road, deep in thought.
For the very first time in his life George Foyet truly felt something. It was a pity, really, that for now he didn't have the chance to explore it any further. From the beginning he'd known that Spencer's intelligence was a risk factor but he'd jumped in anyway, like a moth drawn to a flame. Now he'd have to face the consequences.
Those thoughts floated away when he heard a approaching car. Turning his head he saw a very old blue Sedan that stopped almost directly before him. His senses became overloaded when the car's door was pushed open. The breathtaking smell of weed and deafeningly loud metal music swept his mind blank. And then his eyes strayed on the driver.
She was a very young woman, not even in her twenties. On her she had a extremely short red dress that barely hid her most private parts, along with dangerous looking black high heels. Her long, obviously dyed black hair was a mess and her blue eyes looked like she'd been crying. If she hadn't been wearing too much makeup she would've been beautiful. A one more sad creature from the streets of Vegas.
The girl smirked in what was most likely supposed to be seductive manner. "Hi, stranger. Do you need a ride?"
Slowly yet surely a tiny smile made its way to his face. He wasn't in the position where he could turn his back on help. "You know what… I think I do." He took a step closer. "Where are you headed?"
The girl shrugged, her eyes hardening slightly. He saw scars on her wrists when she moved a strand of hair behind her ear. "Far away from here."
He nodded, very pleased with that response, and slid to the passenger's seat of the vehicle. The heavy music wrapped around him, pounded in his ears. "Sounds good to me."
And so they sped away from Las Vegas, soon leaving behind Nevada, one of them missed by no one and the other searched by a full army of people.
TBC, right?
A/N: It looks like the truth is starting to become unraveled. Poor Reid – 'can't even imagine how I'd feel in his shoes. (shudders)
PLEASE, leave a review to let me know your thoughts and feelings! Was this chapter worth the wait, at all? Or should I bury this after all? I'd really, really love to hear what ya think. (glances hopefully)
IN THE NEXT ONE (if ya still feel up to it): As Foyet disappears it becomes clear that Reid isn't exactly safe. What happens when Reid and Morgan decide to set things straigth before it's too late? And what's Foyet's next move? A surprising decision is made and it's about to push three fates to entirely different tracks...
Until next time, whichever story that may be with! I really hope I'll be seeing ya around.
Take care!
Hatsuharu M: Yup, it sure looks that way. (grins) BUT, this isn't exactly good. We'll see just how much of a trouble those two end up facing… (shudders)
Let's hope Morgan gets the chance to make things right.
Huge thank yous for the review!
Katsakura: Gosh, I truly hope you're still looking forward to more!
We'll see what happens as the snowball keeps on rolling…
Monumental thank yous for the review!
Winter Cicada: They're nasty, aren't they? (groans) And I kept you waiting for so long, too!
I really, REALLY hope you'll enjoy the next bit!
Colossal thank yous for the review!
nicolethecrazyone: Seriously? (beams) You've got no idea how glad I am to hear that! I really hope the next bit will please you as much.
Massive thank yous for the review!
