A/N: Hiya there, folks! (grins) Dang, it feels good to be back. Not that I would've been gone for long this time around. (smirks)

Buuut, before getting to the BIG business… Thank you so much for all the love and support you've given this story! (glomps) At the moment I'm on fire with this, and it's all thanks to you. You can't even imagine how grateful I am right now. (beams)

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) Let's rock, shall we? I truly hope you'll find this worthy of all your expectations.


The Longest Night


This time around it wasn't just a nightmare.

By the time Derek barged out of his car and dashed to the scene the forest opening was already full of light and noise. It seemed the city's entire police force was there, along with several FBI-agents. Red and blue flashed on grave faces.

Almost in the middle of it all stood Erin Strauss. She turned her head upon hearing his steps and the snarls he gave to those who dared to question his presence on the scene. It took less than two seconds before she looked away once more, her eyes full of unvoiced guilt. The red light flashing across her face and hands looked like blood.

It was too late.

Derek froze completely, it all striking him like a wall of bricks. His whole body shook while he fought not to throw up.

Finally everyone seemed to disregard him. Perhaps they looked at his face and realized that he was harmless and there was absolutely nothing they could do for him.

The only one brave enough to approach him was David Rossi. The man's eyes were even darker than usual while the older agent emitted a long, exhausted sigh.

All of Derek's willpower was what it took to push the single word through his lips. "Anything?"

David hesitated for a second before speaking in a quiet voice he'd never heard before. "It was all over in a flash. They were gone before Doneghy got the chance to dial 911." The man seemed to debate something. "Morgan… I'm sorry."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "Don't… fucking say that", he growled, feeling dangerous burning in his eyes. His voice shook pitiably. "He isn't dead, Rossi. We've still got time. So don't fucking say that."

David nodded. They didn't say anything anymore.

Erin gritted her teeth as she observed the two of them.

She knew it'd been the right thing to pull Aaron's team off of this particular case. There were too many personal connections, too much raw emotion. But as she watched the sight unfolding before her eyes she couldn't help wondering if she'd made a mistake, after all.

She finally managed to look away when Aaron stood beside her. It was hard to read what was sparkling deep in the stone faced man's eyes. "Doneghy's at the station under questioning", the unit chief informed her, his voice cooler than steel. "He's already lost his job. They're trying to determine whether he should be arrested as well."

Erin frowned, glancing towards Derek once more. The man looked lik a ticking time bomb. "Make sure he's far away from agent Morgan", she adviced, then turned on her heels and headed towards her car. "This is already going to be all over the news. We don't need a additional story of how a federal agent killed a U.S. Marshal." With that she left the scene, not looking over her shoulder towards the dead, cold lights.


To William Reid the world stopped turning the moment his cell phone rang, followed by Aaron's words.

/ "We failed." /

He'd never told Spencer that he visited Diana occasionally. Almost every single time she was so delusional that she didn't even notice he was there. One visit made an exception. That crispy day of January she looked at him, looked deep into his eyes and took both of his hands, squeezed so tightly it hurt. She was the woman he married. The mother of his son.

/ "Make sure he's safe. Now that I can't… Promise me that you'll protect him. Promise me." /

William swallowed thickly, wiping his tired eyes.

Aaron was wrong. They hadn't failed – it was never their job to keep his son safe.

He wasn't there when Spencer broke his leg while driving a bike. He wasn't there when school bullies tormented his son. He wasn't there when Spencer had to send his mom into a hospital. He wasn't there when…

What kind of a father did that make of him?

Forcing that thought away with such determination it hurt William looked around. Spencer's new apartment was smaller than he'd expected but that was where the surprises ended. Although his son hadn't lived there for long the entire apartment held Spencer's essence in every corner – Spencer's spirit was thick in the air. If he really focused William could practically see his son on the couch, with a book in his hands and that concentrated look on his face…

And that was when he noticed it, almost hidden into the bookshelf. William approached with a frown, finally taking the photograph into his hand and examining it.

Diana must've taken the picture. In it a five-year-old Spencer was sitting on his shoulders, cheeks red and excitement written all over his child's eyes. The child held on to him so tightly, with utter trust. They both had wide smiles on their faces.

/ "I love you, daddy." /

William hadn't cried when his son had to be hidden. He hadn't cried when Aaron called him and told of the current evening's events. But that memory cracked something inside him.

Like in slowed motion William sat down and buried his face into his hands.

No one heard the long overdue apology he sobbed out.


Liam Doneghy knew that he'd made a lot of mistakes in his life. But he'd never, ever felt the way he did that day, sitting in the interrogation room without knowing what was going to happen to him. Without knowing what'd happened to Spencer.

And then Aaron Hotchner entered the room. There was a stone hard look on the man's face as the unit chief slid to the opposite side of the table and sat down, dark eyes looking right into his. The silence that followed lasted a lifetime. "Your car was found abandoned right outside the city. There was a small amount of blood on the backseat. We're fairly sure it's Spencer's."

Doneghy swallowed, twitching with discomfort. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't think there are any words that would make much difference." Aaron took a breath, then focused on the documents on the table. "Right now the only thing you can do is give a truthful, accurate report on the past day's events."

Outside the room, with only a window in between them, absolutely everything inside Derek was burning while he listened to Doneghy's story.

Foyet… That son of a bitch had found Doneghy's daughter.

Doneghy made his decision and sacrificed Spencer, tossing the genius into Foyet's hands.

Spencer was in Foyet's hands, just because Doneghy hadn't been cautious enough to have his child protected properly.

There was no justice left in the world.

Just then he heard steps and turned his head quickly. David stood beside him with a unreadable expression. "It's already ten p.m., Morgan."

Derek frowned, not liking the direction the conversation was headed. "So what? Everyone else is working."

David looked at him pointedly. "Not everyone has someone they care about in the hands of a serial killer."

Derek's eyes narrowed while the walls he'd built around himself long ago rose once more, creating a wall of bricks between them. "Do you seriously want to have this conversation now? Now, when we…" He balled his fists painfully tightly. "How I feel or don't feel is none of your business, Rossi."

David nodded, like a patient parent trying to handle a challenging teenager. "In most cases that might be true. But right now…" The older agent glanced towards the interrogation room. "Right now it's a matter of minutes before Doneghy will be led out of there." David looked at him directly to his eyes. "Do you honestly trust yourself to be here then?"

For the longest time Derek stared at the man incredulously, such fury he'd never felt before blowing inside. Then, choosing to leave before he'd say or do something he'd regret, he turned sharply and walked away with loud steps. He didn't look back even when he heard the interrogation room's door open although the temptation nearly killed him.

The air outside surprised Derek with its coldness. He shivered, only adrenaline and rage keeping him from wrapping his arms around himself.

So there was no waking up from this nightmare.

He made it to his car until he felt something that made chills travel up and down his spine. He looked around with a frown, spotting no one who should've made him suspicious. Then a thought flashed through him.

Every muscle in his body stiffened while he knelt down, peering up at the bottom of his car. Nothing suspicious there, either. The frown from before deepened while he straightened his body and looked around once more, his eyes nearly frantic.

What the hell was going on? Was he losing his mind completely?

He shivered, slipping to the driver's seat and starting the vehicle cautiously. He exhaled loudly when nothing happened. The storm of adrenaline and relief faded quickly while a flash of Spencer's face appeared to his line of vision.

He fastened his handsfree with a badly shaking hand, then dialed a number he hadn't used in ages. There was a response while he began to drive off. "Well hello, stranger."

"Hey." His voice was tight and loaded. He was dimly aware of how dangerously he was driving while not looking both ways before joining the main road's traffic. "Do you still remember that favor you owe me? I could use it now."

What Derek failed to notice, was that there was indeed someone observing him from the shadows.

Ellie Spicer gave a tiny, crooked grin while watching how Derek's car disappeared, her hand slipping slowly from the gun on her belt.

He was still alive because she'd chosen to grant him that much. For now that was enough.

She put on her motorcycle helmet and drove off, disappearing like a ghost although she'd just been right under the noses of those chasing her.


It'd been damn long day, Aaron concluded while tossing his cell phone to his desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a desperate attempt to control the swelling pain.

He'd tried to call William Reid ten times without a reply. There was no way he coul've taken that as a good sign even if he wasn't a profiler. He preferred not wondering where the man was at the moment. Just like he was quite happy without knowing just how much worse things could get before this nightmare would be over.

It was like a collection of domino pieces falling.

The knock on his office's door startled him. Aaron took a deep breath, almost like bracing himself, before calling out. "Come in." He immediately regretted the invitation upon seeing the person entering.

He didn't quite manage to convince himself that he only imagined the reek of alcohol that hung thickly on Erin Strauss while she slumped quite heavily to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. She appeared utterly exhausted.

"Are you alright?" he inquired although it wouldn't have been necessary to ask.

She gave him a look that said it all, then groaned, rubbing her face although it messed her makeup. "I hate reporters." It took a while before she managed to focus on him. Her eyes were bleary. "Please, tell me your team has something."

"With all due respect, this case was re-handed to my team only hours ago", he pointed out.

A tiny smirk appeared to her lips. "Like you wouldn't have been working on this unofficially for much longer." She then frowned. "How's agent Morgan?"

Aaron sighed. "He's… dealing." Seeing the look that flashed in her eyes he hurried to add. "He's been sent home. As much as I'd need him in this he's too unstable to be working right now. Dave and Prentiss just headed towards the apartment where Foyet had left a bomb for the SWAT-team, to see if there's anything useful."

Erin nodded slowly, appearing nauseated. Her jaw tightened. "The SWAT-team… I just got a call. The last of them died in the hospital half an hour ago."

Aaron shivered, feeling a wave of repulsion. How long was this madness going to continue? How the hell were they supposed to bring an end to it?

Just then the room's door was thrown open without a knock, alerting both of them. They didn't relax much even as they recognized the person entering as JJ. Aaron had never seen the kind of a look on the young blonde's face they held at the moment.

He frowned, already preparing himself for the worst. A sick feeling rose and formed a ball into his stomach. "What's wrong?"

JJ gulped, her eyes appearing suspiciously moist. "A… A package arrived a while ago. A woman matching Ellie's description left it for this little boy to be delivered."

It was around then Aaron noticed the tiny package in her trembling hands. 'To William Reid' said the sticker on it. His blood ran cold as he noticed the dark, already dried red staining cardboard. "Is that…?"

JJ nodded slowly, not managing to say a word, then handed the package to him slowly. Aaron wanted to throw up when he saw the contents. Some moisture appeared into his eyes and he tried to tell himself it was from fatigue. Erin swore loudly before leaving the room.

In the package was a cut off finger of Spencer's.

'Don't worry, William', said the bloodied note that lay beside the finger. 'I'll give him back to you, piece by piece.'


Derek understood, on some level, why he was sent home. With how off balance he was he might've ended up hurting someone. Understanding that didn't mean he would've liked it.

Two hours after slamming the door and scaring Clooney Derek was sitting on a couch in total darkness, his face buried into his hands while his mind spun a million miles per hour. All that fit into his head was Spencer.

In the end he did the only thing he could to salvage the little there was left of his sanity. He took his cell phone and dialed Spencer's number. Of course it was against all reason to expect a reply. Nonetheless receiving none sent a dagger through his heart.

Derek swallowed thickly, then half-whispered in a voice he couldn't recognize. "Spencer, I… I know you can't hear this right now, but… I want you to remember that I haven't given up. I'll never give up. So hang on, okay? Hang in there. Because… Because whatever it takes I'm going to bring you back home. I'm not letting you go."

Only silence and Clooney's soft, almost sympathetic whimpering answered him. He'd just spilled out his heart and soul, and that was all he got in response. Maybe that bitter thought was what finally pushed him over the edge.

As Derek buried his face into both hands and felt something inside him crack before it fell to pieces he didn't know what the hell was going on, what he was about to do and how this was all going to end. There was only one thing he knew with such clearness that it scared him out of his mind.

It was one hell of a moment to realize that you were slowly yet surely falling for someone.

Almost mercifully the doorbell cut those thoughts before they managed to take over him completely. While he wiped his eyes swiftly Clooney growled. He glanced towards the canine. "Take it easy, boy. Everything's okay", he commanded in a voice that didn't sound quite convincing.

This was the right thing to do. So why didn't he feel that way?

Derek made his way to the apartment's door although his feet didn't feel quite stable and peered carefully through the door eye before daring to open.

Behind his door stood Elle Greenaway.


The pain was everywhere.

Spencer opened his eyes. It happened so easily that it almost scared him. He opened his eyes, and saw George Foyet. There was a unreadable expression on the serial killer's face. Spencer's eyes widened while his heart began to race.

It was incredible how he'd never seen the things in Foyet's eyes he did now.

They simply stared at each other for the longest time before Foyet finally spoke, standing so close that he couldn't see his surroundings. "I didn't want to bring you into this, Spencer. I hope you understand that. If it was up to me… I'd keep you close, and never let you go." The man ran a hand through Spencer's hair, which was something the genius used to like. "But some things are simply out of our control."

Spencer swallowed, twisting his wrists. He didn't know what they were tied with but it hurt. He was almost sure that there was blood on his fingers. "Why…" He licked his lips before trying again. "Why am I here?"

Foyet smiled. "Don't play dumb with me, Spencer. It doesn't suit you." The man tapped his forehead gently with two fingers. "Think, Spencer. The answer is right there."

And it was. Flashes of the crime scene photos, of the victims' faces, of all those cruelties, flashed through his mind. He knew. "You're going to kill me."

Foyet nodded, appearing so calm that it chilled him. "That's right." The man's hand caressed his cheek. "But not yet. Not before every player is in their correct position."

Spencer's chest grew unbearably cold. Pieces began to click in his throbbing head. The pain in his hand was escalating steadily.

"There's one thing about chess I really don't like", Foyet said. It was terrifying, really, that this man looking at him was quite clearly the one he'd shared his bed with. He knew those eyes. "It's that sometimes to win… you have to sacrifice something valuable."


TBC, right?


Ya thought that was bad? Oh boy, it's only just getting started. (winces) We'll see just how deep into the dark this all leads…

The next two chapters are ALMOST done, so we may see it all soon.

PLEASE, please do leave a note! By now ya'va gotta know how much it'd mean to me. (gives huge puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: A surprise finally leads the team to Foyet's location, but is it too late? Meanwhile a long awaited meeting takes place. As it all comes down with the force of a thunder it becomes clear that things will never be the same again. Next up, 'Our Darkest Hour'.

Until next time, everyone! I really hope I'll see ya then.

Peace out!


Nicolethecrazyone: Goodness me, hopefully not literally! I'd hate to get sued…

Jk. (grins) I'm absolutely thrilled to hear you enjoyed it so! We'll see how you feel of what's to come…

Massive thank yous for the review!