Disclaimer: I don't own criminal minds or anything to do with it.
Thank you to ArwenLalaith for being my beta reader and fixing my grammar and spelling mistakes, and improving my story.
"The truth is rarely pure, and never simple. - Oscar Wilde
*****
"So, what is your favorite childhood memory?" asked Spencer one Olivia was finally back in her own home and she finally felt safe. They sat on the couch, talking about everything and anything; Quincy lay content at their feet, happy to be home.
"I told you about the week when I had the chicken pox," said Olivia, considering, "But when I was little, maybe four, my Grandfather gave me an old fashioned leather doctors bag. Inside the bag was a fake stethoscope, an blood pressure cuff, and a bunch of other items. So, for a week I walked around in my white bathrobe, pretending it was a doctor's coat, and treated everyone. I just remember 'treating' my parents and they would smile… they were really happy then," she said with a sigh. "After I started school and mom started me on that strict regimen, they started arguing even more. They waited until Emily was out of the house and when they only had me to worry about, they divorced," she said, her jaw clenching slightly.
"You know that your parents divorce wasn't your fault," said Spencer, sliding a little closer and laying a hand on her arm.
"I know it's -" she stopped suddenly when she saw the way he was looking at her. She felt her heart start to pound against her ribcage. Before she knew what was happening they were kissing, only breaking apart when the need for oxygen took precedence.
"Olivia -" he started, but was cut off by his phone ringing. Olivia let a frustrated groan. "Hotch," he said, a little annoyed, as he answered the phone. He listened for a moment, his face becoming serious. "I understand. I'll wait here for Officer Parker, then I will be in," he replied tersely before hanging up.
"What's going on?" asked Olivia, momentarily forgetting about the kiss.
"Davidson is not the unsub," said Spencer looking guilty.
"Are you sure?" she asked, her stomach clenching at the thought of this nightmare dragging on.
"Yes, I'm sorry…" he said, reaching out his hand to comfort her, but pulling it back, unsure what to do. They sat in uncomfortable silence until the officer arrived.
"I'll, uh, see you later?" asked Olivia, flustered.
"Yes, you will," said Spencer with a small smile as he left.
"I think I'm going to let the dog out and go to bed," said Olivia to the officer once Spencer had left. He simply nodded as Olivia let Quincy out the back door into her small fenced backyard. She went up to her room and sat on the corner of her bed with a sigh. Today had been a very long, happy, confusing day.
******
Once Spencer arrived at the BAU they sat around the table, trying to come up with an answer. "Sorry to interrupt," said Garcia, coming into the room, "But I have some news."
"Good, I hope," said Morgan, stretching, stiff from sitting so long.
"That's a matter of opinion… I checked on Dr. James' alibi for New York the day Jane Doe was killed. Nobody saw him after 8 AM, after breakfast he went to his room claiming he ate bad food. The next time he was seen was the next morning, our witness claims that he was exhausted as if he'd been up all night," answered Garcia smugly.
"So that means that James may very well be the unsub," said Rossi, glad to finally be making some headway.
"Now we just need to find him," said Hotch.
"Well, I called the hospital, he was still in his office as of five minutes ago," supplied Garcia.
"Reid, Morgan, JJ, head over to his office. The rest of us will go to his home in case he shows up there," ordered Hotch.
"Mama, you're the greatest," said Morgan, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before he left.
"Don't I know it," she replied with a smile.
******
Olivia who was sitting on her bed thinking over the day was snapped out of her trance when she heard barking. She looked out her window and saw Quincy clawing at the front door, snarling. She let out a groan, "Great, he got out of the yard," she said to herself. "Officer Parker," she called down the stairs, "Can you let Quincy in?" Her question was met with silence. "Officer Parker?" she called again, a little worried. Once again not receiving an answer,r she cautiously made her way down the stairs, not seeing the figure hiding in her kitchen. "Officer Parker?" she called. Walking to the doorway of the living room she let out a gasp.
She saw the police officer laying on the floor of her living room, blood dripping out of a gash on the side of his head. She was slightly placated by the continued rise and fall of his chest, but she knew she had to get out of there.
"Why?" asked a voice from behind her in the kitchen.
She gasped and turned to face the voice. "Nolan?" she breathed out, clutching her chest, "You… Why?" she asked, tears coming to her eyes.
"I love you, don't you get that?" he screamed, gesturing wildly. It was then that she saw the large knife in his hands. "I killed those people for you!" he cried, moving closer.
Olivia backed up until her back hit the kitchen counter. "Why?" she asked, feeling behind her on the counter to find something to protect herself.
"They were going to hurt you," he said, shaking, "The drug addict believed that someone as beautiful as you would do something as dirty as prescribe needles… She was an idiot. Then those fat pigs wouldn't listen to you and she developed diabetes and blamed you; smart, innocent you. Then that whore, there aren't any words to describe that whore," he spat, turning red.
Finally Olivia's hand came in contact with something, she realized it was a rolling pin, she quickly pulled it behind her. "Thank you," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks, "I'm sorry I didn't realize that you did those things for me, it was stupid of me."
"NO!" he screamed, pointing the knife at her, "DO NOT TALK LIKE THAT!" Before she could realize what was happening, he had slapped her across the cheek. Olivia saw stars and stumbled back, she was barely able to keep the rolling pin hidden.
"Okay," she said, her voice wavering, "I won't, I'm sorry. Why don't we go sit down on the couch and get to know each other better." She started towards the couch with her back turned away from him, the rolling pin hidden.
"It's too late!" he cried, blocking her path, "You should have realized it sooner! Now you have to be punished!" His voice was alarmingly calm as he raised the knife, lunging toward her.
Olivia took the rolling pin and swung with all her might toward his head. He saw her coming at the last second and managed to avoid the worst of the blow, but the shock of it made him drop the knife. Olivia turned and ran toward the door.
"Bitch!" he screamed, grabbing her arm and forcibly twisting her around. She heard a sickening crack and pain shot up her arm, she let out a cry of pain. He shoved her with all his might and the right side of her forehead hit the kitchen counter and split open. Blood ran down her head, the pain was blurring her vision. She wasn't going to give up though; she haphazardly started crawling towards the door, away from him.
"No!" he cried, grabbing her ankle and dragging her back toward the kitchen. She tried grabbing onto anything to give her enough leverage to pull herself out of his grasp. She spotted the discarded rolling pin on the floor and grabbed it with her good arm and swung it at him again. It sharply contacted his knee, he screamed out in pain and let go of her. She made a third attempt at escape, but was again halted by a sharp pain in her back causing her to collapse to the ground.
She managed to make out Nolan standing over her as he kicked her repeatedly. She curled into the fetal position, trying to protect herself. She felt her consciousness wavering and the only solid thought she could bring to the forefront was that this was the end. She saw him grab the knife off the floor and raise it.
Her hope was fading when a large crash sounded from the other side of the room. Nolan still held the knife over her; she heard voices yelling, but she couldn't make out the words, everything was a blur. The one thing she could make out solidly was the crazed look on Nolan's face as he made to lower the knife. Several sharp cracks sounded and he jerked back like he had been pushed. Then he got a sick smile on his face before collapsing nearly on top of her. She saw blood pulling out of his chest and his cold eyes stared at her, the realization slowly dawning on her addled brain that he was dead.
The next several minutes passed in a jumble of disjointed events. She heard screaming and it took her a second to realize it was her own uncontrollable screams. Someone carefully helped her up. "NO!" she screamed, trying to get away, not knowing who it was.
"Olivia it's alright, it's me, it's Emily!" her sister placated over her shrieking. She was so hysterical at this point she still didn't realize it was her sister. Emily gently turned her sister to face her. "It's Emmy," she cried, using Olivia's childhood nickname for her. Olivia finally stopped screaming and realized it was sister holding her.
She looked around the room and saw the rest of the team. Morgan was checking for a pulse on Nolan, after a moment he looked over and shook his head. She saw Spencer holstering his weapon away. "You shot him?" she asked breathlessly, he just nodded his head. She didn't know what to say.
She then remembered the police officer. She spotted him and saw Rossi kneeling over him trying to administer first aid. "He needs help," she insisted, carefully moving toward him, fully aware of the pain she was starting to feel again.
"Olivia, he'll be okay," said Emily, gently taking her good arm.
"He's still unconscious," said Olivia. She was getting upset and starting to cry, not knowing why she was and getting embarrassed.
"Okay," said Emily calmly, "I'll help Rossi with him, you go outside with Reid. Hotch is out there calling an ambulance."
"Alright," said Olivia tearfully. Spencer gently lead her outside, carefully lowering her to sit on the lawn before sitting next to her. Quincy ran to her, absorbing his master's stress, and started licking her face trying to comfort her. "It's alright, down," she commanded Quincy who obeyed and laid beside his master, his eyes still locked on her.
Olivia began to process her wounds, the pain slowly becoming more and more overwhelming as the adrenalin started to wear off. Bruises painted her body black and blue, dried blood tinging the side of her face a rusty red, gashes and swelling capped it all off, leaving her looking like the tail end of a bad bar fight.
"I'm sorry," Spencer said after a minute.
"For what?" she asked, tears gathering in her eyes again.
"For not figuring it out sooner, for letting you get hurt," he said gently, brushing her hair out of her face.
"At least you figured it out before it was too late," she said, wiping the tears away.
"We went to question Dr. James, because he fit characteristics of the unsub, and we found your stolen photos and a letter apologizing for -" he suddenly stopped.
"For what?" she pressed, looking him in the eyes.
"For murdering you and committing suicide. He admitted to killing those people, he said he did it for you," he finished. She let out a strangled gasp and started crying harder.
"I'm sorry," she said covering her face, embarrassed.
"It's alright," he said, carefully pulling her into his arms and letting her cry.
Hotch, who had been watching the whole thing, smiled slightly. Among all of the tragedy, at least something good had come of it.
******
"I am not staying overnight!" cried Olivia. It was hours later and she was now in a hospital bed after being examined. The doctor wanted her to stay overnight for observation. "Officer Parker didn't have to stay overnight," she complained, crossing her arms like a child. Monica just shook her head, smiling while she checked Olivia's vitals.
"Officer Parker had a mild concussion and just needed stitches for his scalp laceration," replied Emily who was sitting on a chair beside her bed.
"While you have a severe concussion, needed seven stitches on a three inch gash, a broken wrist, bruised ribs, one of which has a hair line fracture, and almost all the rest of you is black and blue," replied Monica. She put a hand on her hip, "Gee, I wonder why you can't go home tonight," she replied sarcastically.
"Plus you can't even go into your home yet," added Emily gently, "It's still a crime scene."
"Em, I don't think I can ever go back there again," she whispered, remembering everything that had happened there in the last twenty-four hours, tears sprang to her eyes.
"It'll be okay," said Emily, squeezing her good hand. "We'll find you a new town house, a nicer one," she soothed.
"Yeah, one closer to you, so I can come mooch off of you," she joked, trying to make herself feel better.
"Well, we know your starting to feel better," said Emily, smiling slightly.
"What happened to Quincy?" asked Olivia, worried.
"Don't worry, Morgan's temporarily taking him in. He said that Quincy and his dog Clooney are getting along great," answered Emily reassuringly.
"Are you up for another visitor?" asked a voice from the doorway; they all turned to see Spencer.
"Sure," said Olivia, her face lighting up.
"Come on Monica, let me buy you a cup of coffee," said Emily rising.
"Sure," said Monica, getting the hint and following Emily out of the room.
Spencer sat on the chair beside her bed. "Thank You," Olivia said, carefully turning toward him, trying not to cause herself anymore pain.
"For what?" he asked, looking into her eyes.
"For realizing it was Nolan, for saving me," she said, taking his hand.
"I just wish I had realized it sooner," he said quietly, staring at her hand.
"It's alright," she said, smiling slightly, "I'm alive." They sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again, "About last night, the kiss -" she started.
He cut her off, "I know what you're going to say, we don't have to talk about it," he said, anticipating her saying it was a mistake or it was because of the circumstances.
"Oh really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "What am I going to say?"
"That you like me as a friend and it only happened because of the circumstances," he replied quietly.
She chuckled and tightened her grip on his hand. "I liked kissing you and I would love to kiss you again. I want to give us a chance… I know that it would be hard with both our schedules, but I think it's worth a try." He just stared at her blankly for a few seconds. "Feel free to say something," she said after a silent minute, starting to feel a little embarrassed.
He carefully leaned over and kissed her deeply. "I'll take that as a yes," she said, feeling a little dazed, once they'd broken apart.
"That would be a yes," he said, squeezing her hand. She murmured indistinguishably as she brought a hand to her head. "Is something wrong?" asked Spencer, starting to rise to get help.
"No," she said quietly, "The morphine drip is starting to kick in and it's making me drowsy," she mumbled.
"I can go," said Spencer, once again rising and loosening his grip on her hand.
"No, please stay," she said, fighting to stay awake.
"Alright," he said, gently holding onto her hand, just glad she was alive.