I pulled the door up and pushed it back to where it rested open. The light streaming in through the window had lit up the first few stairs down, but after that it had been pitch dark with no sign of light. I pulled out my flashlight, clicking it on as I call out to Morgan and Printess, "I found something, may need back up!" I shined my light into the darkness only to see nothing. It went down further than I expected.
Morgan had approached me first, "What'd you find?" He asked as he stood next to me looking down into the hole.
"Some sort of basement I assume. Cover me?" I crossed my arms, my gun pointed down the stairs with my flashlight hand resting firmly behind my gun.
Morgan pulled out his gun and flashlight in a silent agreement and followed as we walked down the stairs. The air turned damp with every step we took and I couldn't shake the musty smell that came with it. I slowly let the light of my flash light line the wall and followed it around the room, when it hit a corner I realized it led down to a small hallway that was at least five by fifteen just from appearances, though I knew that it had to be bigger from looking at the wall to my right. It had two doors that were five feet apart from one another and there had been thick metal rings sticking out from the outside of the door frame. Through the rings, resting just above the doorknobs, iron rods jutted through, stopping anything or anyone on the inside of the rooms from getting out. I swallowed hard and looked over to Morgan; he stepped forward and walked to the door farthest from me taking hold of the door knob. He gave it a twist - it was unlocked. He looked to me and gave a short nod, not taking the risk of talking, I understood as I began to quietly maneuver the rod out from the rings. It only gave off a light metallic sound as I slid it out and rested it against the wall.
We looked to each other, each with a hand on the door knobs, and pulled our doors open. They swung open and we moved forward. I searched for a light switch along the wall with my free hand, keeping my gun pointed forward the best I could, I sighed of relief when I felt one beneath my hand. I flipped it up – and shuttered out a cloud of breath to what I saw.
A row of bodies lined the back of the room, hanging by meat hooks pierced through their throats. Their throats had been cut clean out, spines exposed with the hooks pushing through. This was a freezer; maybe his first, maybe his last, maybe these were special to him – ones he wanted to keep close. My eyes followed down their bodies to the floor, they had completely bled out; bloodstains pooled under their bodies and had emptied out through a drain pipe in the floor.
I lowered my gun and clicked off my flashlight; I knew enough from listening to Spencer to know that these people had been alive when he did this to them. Not being able to find my voice to call for Morgan or Printess I began to slowly back out of the freezer – not taking my eyes off of the bodies. I backed into the wall at the bottom of the stairs, swallowing hard as my back hit the wall. Still not being able to find my voice, I waited; for Morgan to come out or for Printess to come down, I waited.
"It looks like this is where he imprisoned people. There are a few cots, blankets – if he held them for long he brought what they needed down to them." Morgan described the room as he walked out. Printess could be heard above us walking around; we both looked up to the noise for a moment before his brow furrowed and asked, "Bre, what's wrong?"
My eyes shifted from the room, to Morgan, and back again as I swallowed hard and pointed to the room I had just backed out of before I headed back upstairs. I couldn't stand to be this close to the bodies anymore and I'm sure someone else could handle this better than I could.
I passed Printess at the top of the stairs, she looked like she was about to say something to me but barley stuttered out a words as I brushed past her walking back through the house and out the front door. I sat down on the stoop, resting my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. This had been the worst I had seen in person. Seeing the photos was different; I was learning facts about the case – about the unsub – and the pictures in the case file were nothing like this. There were no hanging bodies on hooks, no drain pipes, nothing I hadn't seen before, nothing I couldn't handle.
I heard a car pull up to the curb, I peeked through the cracks of my fingers to see Spencer getting out of an SUV and starting up the walkway of the house. I stood up and hurried over to him, maybe I could leave and go back to the station to help JJ or I could takes Spencer's spot with Rossi at the meat packing plant – all the bodies from there had already been moved to the morgue. Anything would be better than staying here and having to profile the mess in the basement.
I stopped on a dime in front of him, he caught me by the waist and tried to keep us both balanced, "Morgan and Printess are inside. We called you for the hoard of books, but we found a basement and…I'm sorry you have to see it." I stopped talking and took a breath. His hands were still on my waist and mine settled on his upper arms, holding onto him tightly.
He looked at me eyes wide with surprise of how fast I had spoken; the rest of his face a blank expression. I could only imagine how I looked right now – an FBI agent not able to handle the sight of the victims, shaken by the smallest things like book titles. I remembered a conversation we had, how he had told me he was advised to use the nightmares to work harder through cases. I could only hope that would kick in for me in this case, until then I needed an out.
I slipped my hand into his jacket pocket and grabbed the keys to the car he had just arrived in; Morgan and driven us here and still had the keys and I wasn't about to go back into the house to get them, "The basement was hidden so be sure to check absolutely everything," I jingled the keys, "I'm going to take your place with Rossi." I wasn't letting myself think when I leaned forward on my tip toes, kissing him on the forehead, "I'll see you later." I managed to rattle out before moving around him and speed walking to the car.
That night when I finally decided that I wasn't going to be able to sleep I sent Spencer a text asking if he was awake. I already knew he was before he replied making my phone light up with confirmation. After reading it I hopped out of bed and put on my shoes. I grabbed my room key off of the dresser and shoved it in the pocket of my sweat pants with my phone before walking out of the room. My legs seemed to move without me having to think of where to go, every movement seemed natural.
When I found myself outside of his door I lightly knocked not wanting to wake any of the team on this floor. I heard shuffling behind the door, it opened a crack – the chain lock stopping it and Spencer peeked out from behind it. He smiled upon seeing me, closed the door and released it from the chain. The door opened and I quickly entered his room. I knew as I pulled him in for a hug that if any of the other's had seen me sneak into Spencer's room that they would suspect something that's not. It made a soft laugh escape my lips.
He held onto me tighter as he turned us around. His back now to the door he extended a leg behind himself and kicked it closed, "I'm so sorry about earlier." He still smelled of coffee from the day and maybe even from a few moments before I had sent him a text.
"Em, I'm not surprised. It'll probably be a while before you're able to stomach the sight. You don't have anything to be sorry for." He led me over to the bed; we climbed onto it – not getting under the covers or lying down but sitting cross legged in front of each other. We sat knees to knees as he leaned to turn on the light that sat on the nightstand next to his bed.
"Still, it isn't good that I'm the new girl in town and not having the ability to do my job to my fullest capacity." Our hands met in between us, bridging the gap, moving with each other. Maybe if I memorize his hands this way, every curve and every joint, it would be easier to figure out if he was palming something during his magic tricks.
"When you're able to do this job and not get a dry throat from the sight of the victims, I'll be worried." He caught my hands in our game of cat and mouse and I looked up, meeting his eyes.
I couldn't stop an eyebrow from jerking upwards, "And how about you?" I asked, "I haven't seen you swallow hard to them."
His lips pressed to a hard line before he spoke, "I handle it differently."
I smiled weakly; of course he does. He doesn't just have nightmares about nothing. I hummed as I leaned forward, my hands on his knees keeping me steady, I planted a kiss in his forehead and rested my forehead against his, my eyes closing to the warmth. He moved his hands to my neck and held me there as his lips pressed to mine. I melted into it, not wanting to move away. His breath on mine was something I was willing to get used to. We both pulled away, just enough to get a breath.
His eyes on mine, I motioned my head towards the pillows, "Let's at least try and get some sleep. This case is a big one."
He nodded in agreement before asking, "Mind if we sleep with the TV on? The dark and I aren't close friends."
"I don't mind at all." I replied as we moved to turn down the bed.
He reached for the remote and turned on the TV before turning off the light. When he settled into the bed, I scooted next to him, laying my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me and I sighed in content, "Good night, Spencer."
I could almost feel his smile as he replied, "Good night, Em." He rubbed my side lightly as I closed my eyes in an attempt for peace even if it was so I could only wake up to the chaos. Even if it was just for the night.
