AN: Some quotes are directly from the relevant episode, others aren't at all. As always, I apologize for any errors!
It was already late when Boss came into the squad room. Scotty had been counting the number of pages of paperwork that stood between him and home. The cases combined with the stress and confusion just from being around Lilly had taken their toll. But Lilly saw the purpose in Boss's stride with relief and knew she'd have an out from going home tonight.
"West Virginia State Police just arrested a guy whose blood matches some evidence from a cold job. Kidnapping, suspected murder. We need to pick him up, bring him back here. Solve this case." The Boss's deep baritone was met with a brief silence as the detectives realized they weren't going home; worse, they might spend all night chauffeuring a killer.
"I'll do it, Boss." Lilly spoke up after a few seconds. She had tried to be blasé, but she was definitely too eager to go. A reason not to go home? And she'd get to break a killer?
Boss knew her well enough to let her have it, nodding in agreement and heading back to his office.
Lilly turned her attention to her partner, though she knew he was doing his best to avoid it. It wasn't just the all-night ride that he was resisting, though; he had been trying to put distance between them. It didn't seem like he was mad or anything, just a little less comfortable. She tried to think if she had done something to cause it. She had been a mess, for sure, maybe more than usual, but she didn't think that was it. At the very least, their cases had kept them so busy that they had been split up more often than not.
She…missed him. Of course it was silly. She saw him everyday, and it was just Scotty. The same Scotty who was trying to sneak out before she could hook him into another 14-hour shift.
She thought she'd try her luck anyway.
"Take a ride?"
Scotty had been dreading that question for more than one reason, but he thought he'd stick to the obvious.
"West Virgina is more than a ride. We're talking all night here."
Lilly smiled at his resistance. It wasn't a "no". Maybe there was a chance…just to have her partner there. It would probably be an interrogation after all.
"You got something else going on?" She teased.
Caught with no way out, he grinned. "Was planning on washing my hair actually."
Her soft laughter killed off any last resistance. How long had it been since he had heard that adorable sound? The reality hit him. This wasn't just eager ace detective Lilly Rush. She was still hurting.
"You're still having trouble sleeping, huh?"
Lilly felt like he had caught her at her most private moment. She didn't know why. Hell, it was a simple enough question, and really, she knew he knew, but she wasn't going to talk about it. And that was it.
She expertly diverted attention to his current problem of not getting off his ass to join her.
"Look, you coming or not?"
Okay, so she wasn't going to suddenly open up. At that point Scotty didn't care. He was going to spend a whole night with Lil. And a probable killer, but whatever. He'd take what he could get.
"Yeah, but I'm drivin'."
She laughed to herself. Of course he was driving.
She tossed him the keys. "Then let's go."
Scotty wondered how she was still having problems. Was it at least getting better? Hard to say, since she was willing to give up her night for a potential psycho. Honestly, part of his willingness to go was from getting to spend time with her, but the other part was that there was no way he was going to let her alone with this freak. And he was now seeing just how right he was.
"John Smith" was damn creepy. He was playing moves straight out of the serial killer's handbook—false name, anal retentive, secret fears of his own, but most worrisome to Scotty, his focus on the beautiful female detective charged with taking him in.
He had been trying his hardest to get to her, but Lilly was as solid as could be. Still unbreakable even with all the cracks she had suffered. They had already been on the road for an hour, at least, taking the long way back on an already long trip. The detectives had been pushing back, but John Smith was determined to let this night unravel on his own terms. Their interaction had been marked by periods of silence, one side not acknowledging the other. Scotty sensed this guy wanted to talk, just not about anything good.
"Your perfume, it's flowery. Not what I'd expect from someone in your position." Smith's voice was sickening, the cliché ploy having it's intended affect—but just on Scotty who was surprised to see Lilly cracking a smile out of the corner of his eye.
"Don't wear it." Oh, it was too good. Lilly putting him right in his creepy killer place.
"Cologne then?" Smith hadn't been fazed by the setback, merely intrigued.
Scotty wasn't having any of it. "It's aftershave. Nothing flowery about it."
Floral my ass. Suddenly he felt self-conscious. Did Lilly think he smelled flowery? Did she notice how he smelled at all? She may not wear perfume, but Lilly definitely had a signature scent. Subtle, it always caught him unawares. When he leant over her to look at a file, when he followed her into a room...
Focus, idiot! What the hell was he doing, one, letting a killer get into his head, and two, not concentrating solely on trying to get a confession? He was basically a detriment at this point.
His feelings, the lack of sleep, this sick son-of-a-bitch…Scotty felt himself crumbling under the weight. He was well aware of his bad temper to begin with, but this time, he felt the break coming, his stomach churning.
John Smith was giving them nothing. There was a woman out there who could still be alive.
He was tormenting Lilly.
Before he even knew what he was doing, he had stopped the car and yanked Smith out of the back and onto the pavement. Scotty so thought it would help. But it never really did. Plus, Smith was laughing, taking great satisfaction in the fact that he had finally got one of the detectives to break. Scotty hated that he had given him that pleasure; he hated that he had let Smith get to him; he hated that Lilly thought he was unstable, that she was rightfully mad at him for trying to protect her from a threat that didn't exist. Once again, Scotty learned the hard way that his beautiful partner didn't need his superman act. Plus, he lost driving privileges. As if being in the West Virginia boonies at 3AM wasn't bad enough.
After a couple of hours, the team back in Philly confirmed this guy was a sick serial killer. Choosing different women in different cities from videos of their lives that he edited and taking away what they loved 'til they couldn't live anymore. Scotty and Lilly hadn't seen the basement dungeons in the grungy neighborhoods, but Scotty couldn't wrap his head around the horror. What kind of evil would even think to…?
Considering everything, Lilly was holding up incredibly well. She had even got Smith to show some of his cards. His last victim, the one whose crime scene evidence started this whole thing, she was still alive. Somewhere. That's why he had messed up. Why the state troopers had caught him. She defied his plan for her, his tried and true torture. But Lilly couldn't get him to say where. And they we're getting awfully close to home. There was any number of possible neighborhoods in Philly where Smith would go unnoticed, and his victim was running out of time.
Smith was saying that there was a place, in the woods right off of the road they were on that held the answers. Scotty was hesitant. It was a wild goose chase. She wouldn't be there; a serial killer wouldn't change his successful strategy. But when Smith correctly identified the marker in the road, both detectives knew they would have to follow him into the woods. And Scotty felt Lilly's restraint weaken.
Into the woods again. With yet another serial killer. Who targets women. Women that could be me. The irony of the situation was not lost on Lilly despite her overworked, overtired synapses. She just had to get him to break. She could save that trapped woman. She knew she could.
The clearing they came to was appropriately eerie in the moonlight. The silver light exposed the remnants of the well. Which lead to John Smith's story. And suddenly, Lilly's gun pointed at him.
Scotty felt the electricity shoot up his spine.
"Don't, Lil." His words were quiet but wrought. He couldn't let her do it. He wouldn't be able to save her, even if this guy had it coming more than he had ever known. But he had to stop her from killing the killer in the woods.
"Tell me where she is, Smith! Tell me!" She was shaking, from rage, from fear.
"If only you had videos of your own," he said, his cloying voice cutting through the night. "Of course, there'd be no one in them, no one to show them to."
"Shut up." Her voice was breaking. Her will was breaking.
"Go ahead! Shoot me!" Smith was nearly giddy.
She wanted to pull the trigger. She really did. But it wouldn't be enough. A woman would likely die. Smith had been working up to this moment the whole ride. He wanted to die. And he wanted to make Lilly his last victim.
She distantly heard Scotty trying to talk her down. He was voicing everything her rational mind was telling her. John Smith should be forced to have the same fate as the women he tortured. Jail would be worse than death.
But what about her? She had no videos of her love for a child, for a lover, for God, for anything. Was it worth it to live solely for the dead? Was it worth not dying in that observation room?
"Go on, detective, shoot me! You can't save her! How does it feel, to fail at the only thing left?"
Across the clearing, Smith's taunting was eating at Scotty even worse than its intended target. Scotty knew she was strong enough to beat it, to put the gun down. She had lots to live for, right? Sure, she was all about the job, but the good she did…would that have been enough to keep her alive? Why was he even thinking about it? Lilly would never be trapped away by this psycho or anyone else. And she would never lose her fight. She always fought. No matter how little she had to fight for.
Her mind winning out, Lilly turned the tension into something.
"If she's dead, Smith, then why haven't you told us her story? You didn't have any problem sharing the others! Go ahead, tell us! Tell me how you did it, how you broke her."
Smith had tried to convince himself that his victim's hope was gone, that she was dead by now. But Lilly had forced his hand again. If he didn't talk, they'd know for sure she was alive. Then he got sloppy. Letting slip the tally marks on the wall for each day past, the church bells…
"I know that song." She spoke so softly, reluctant to regain hope. But then it hit her.
That church.
She was in Lilly's childhood neighborhood. Lilly could find her.
"Scotty!" She called out. Her voice had changed. The anger had subsided, but the urgency had grown. "I know where she is."
Through a rush of emotions, Scotty managed to sputter out, "Go, Lil. Go! I got him."
As he watched her rush away into the trees, he thought about his position in the middle of a forest in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night with no cell reception and a now defeated serial killer.
He cracked a smile.
He would happily stay here as long as it took if it meant that they—she—could save the day.
AN: I know, it's not romantic or particularly original, but it's the catalyst! Don't worry, everybody! I'll get them together soon, I swear!