Title: 500 Minutes
Chapter 7 – Collateral Damage

"Shots fired! Shots fired!" Both Ed and Sam relay to Greg at once.

"We have to get in there now."

"Sam, Jules on two."

The time ticks down slowly as Ed and Sam both pull the small man doors open at the same time, all four of them shouting 'police don't move' at once. But much to their dismay there were only two people to greet them, and neither was their still missing team member and one was already dead.

The four of them rush toward the two fallen bodies, Sam checking Joe and Jules kneeling down beside Annabelle.

"She's still breathing!" Jules shouts as she quickly radios for an ambulance. "Where did they go?" She asks firmly.

"Side…door," Annabelle gasps as she looks up at Jules with a sorry expression.

"She says there's a side door," Jules relays as Annabelle's bloody hand tries to grasp hers.

"Go!" Ed shouts as he follows after Wordy who was already rushing for the darkened area of the warehouse.

"Pa…patrick…" Annabelle gasps as she quickly draws both Jules and Sam's gaze back down to her.

"Who's Patrick?" She asks in concern.

"Help…him."

"Boss, she's asking about Patrick, saying we have to help him. Maybe another hostage?"

"Just hold still."

"Spike…" Annabelle whispers.

"He'll be fine," Sam assures her as he looks up at Jules with a frown.

"Troy and I will work on it. Ambulance is on its way."

"Wordy and I are in pursuit out the side," Ed tells the team as he and Wordy near the back exit and stop as they hear muffled voices on the other side. Ed notions to Wordy as he slowly pushes the door open and then both quickly ready their guns. The space before them was vacant, but they could hear Spike arguing with David in the distance.

"My team is here and…"

"Shut up already," David growls as he tries to haul Spike upward after Spike had purposely fallen to his knees to again stall for time.

"Annabelle!" Spike remembered yelling as David had wasted no time in firing the shot and then dragging him away.

As soon as he had watched Annabelle's body absorb the bullet, David's grasp around his neck tightened and he was being pulled toward the darkened door.

With his wrists cuffed behind his back, it wasn't an easy task for him to try to get at David but as they neared the back door, his panic forced his brain to do anything to fight back or stall for time. But as soon as he heard Ed's voice yelling as they entered David's panic also seized him, making him loosen his grasp around Spike's neck and instead firmly grasp his wounded arm, sending new shockwaves of pain up the entire right side of his body.

"Move!" David orders as he tries to grab at Spike's bloody sweater, wanting to take the arm and force Spike to come with him as a hostage. Spike tries to dodge his grasp but being on his knees and without the use of his arms, it didn't afford him much of a fighting chance. Thankfully things quickly changed.

As soon as David got Spike to his knees, both of them look up to see Ed and Wordy rush in with their guns trained.

"Drop it David, you are surrounded and have nowhere to go."

"You first officer," David replies in sarcasm as he pushes his gun into Spike's cheek and cocks the trigger. "That's how it works right? You drop your guns, I get on my plane and your friend lives."

"Drop it David, I won't say it again," Ed warns him firmly, their eyes locked in a tense, heated showdown. "Do it now!"

"Sam…"

"I'll head around the back and see if I can get a shot from there. Just keep him talking for a few more seconds."

"David it doesn't have to end this way," Ed continues.

"I think you all know what I am capable of," his arm around Spike's neck squeezes forcing Spike to squirm a bit more in place and both Ed and Wordy to just pause in place. "Now drop your weapons."

"Won't happen David," Ed retorts. "You are outnumbered."

"I'll take my chances," he sneers as he cocks the trigger.

"Sam…"

"Almost there boss," Sam huffs into the headset as he nears the voices. "No joy yet," he relays as he quietly moves toward the back of the second open airplane hangar. The bodies were mostly shielded by the small Cessna and there were lots of things for bullets to ricochet off if the shot wasn't clean.

"Where is your pilot?" Ed asks, hearing Sam continuing to tell them he's still looking for a good position to help free their friend and still captive team member.

"I'm a bloody pilot!" David snaps. "Now drop your damn guns or I'll drop him."

"You drop him and you're as good as dead," Ed warns.

David narrows his gaze at the confident team one leader and stifles an angry curse.

"Okay I have the solution. It will be close with Spike in the way but I can do this," Sam tells the team.

"Sam you sure?" Greg asks anxiously.

"Boss we can't let them get on that plane."

"Agreed," Greg groans followed by a small worried curse.

Sam takes a deep breath, his brain praying that at the last second his friend won't move and be the one to absorb the bullet instead of the mad man holding him hostage.

"Okay fine," David starts as his grip on Spike loosens.

"Hold..." Ed's voice is heard as David moves out of Sam's line of sight.

"Damn it," Sam curses as David's head moves from his scope and Spike comes into view. "No solution."

"Okay fine what?" Ed urges, both him and Wordy still ready to shoot in case something were to happen. "What do you want David?"

"I want what every other masterful serial killer wants."

"Yeah? And what is that?" Wordy asks in indifference.

"I want your friend to die!" David shouts as he pushes Spike away a few inches and prepares to fire.

"Sam!" Ed shouts and within seconds one resounding gunshot is heard; a few seconds later only one body falls to the ground.

"Suspect is neutralized," Sam breathes into the headset.

Ed and Wordy rush toward Spike, Ed taking care of the fallen man, while Wordy gently pulls his friend to safety.

"Hey you okay?"

"Good timing. I was running out of parlor tricks," Spike rambles nervously as he offers his cuffed wrists to his friend to undo. "What happened to Annabelle? Is she okay?"

"Annabelle…she um…Jules?"

"She died a few minutes ago," Jules somber tone is heard by them all.

"Oh," Spike is all he manages as he looks from the sympathetic gaze of Wordy to Ed and then back down to the ground. "Guess my record is still in tact," he utters in a glum tone.

"What?" Ed asks in confusion.

"Don't ask," Wordy frowns at Ed. "Okay, come on let's get that arm checked out," Wordy gently pats Spike on the back as they slowly exit the open airplane hangar.

"Thanks," Spike mentions in a low tone.

"For what?"

"For rescuing me," Spike frowns, his mind still torn about Annabelle. "I know it seems kinda lame but…"

"Hey you're welcome. You okay? We learned about this guy David and what he's capable of," Wordy explains as they near the entrance to the first airplane hangar that he had been held captive in only moments earlier.

"Won't be arm wrestling you anytime soon," Spike quips with a small smirk before his gaze is pulled toward the two Medics preparing Annabelle's lifeless body for transport back to the hospital.

"Spike…"

"Wordy I'm fine...really. Just glad it's over you know?" He looks at his friend with a pleading expression in his warm dark eyes that begged that the subject be dropped right now.

"Sure…okay we'll talk about it later."

"Spike," Jules greets him with a brief hug.

Spike offers the team a smile before he pulls back and looks over at Annabelle just as the medics zip close the heavy black plastic transport bag. He feels his stomach tighten and a lump form in his throat but he wasn't about to show any kind of weak emotion in front of his friends; that he would save for private – when he was alone – again.

"Come on…let's get that arm tended to," Wordy gently places his hand on Spike's back, urging him to pull his gaze away from the woman that had used him and nearly got him killed. Spike silently nods and allows his friend's protective stance to guide him toward the waiting ambulance to get tended too; the rest of the team would deal with the clean up. After a few words from Greg, Spike finally slumps down on the back ledge of the amublance to let himself be tended to.

Wordy watches Spike in an almost zombie-like state and knows that going home in his present mental condition wasn't going to be good at all, he'd find no comfort at home and telling his parents he nearly died was the last thing anyone on team one wanted – most of all Spike.

Spike's gaze keeps fixed on the ground, his face slightly wincing when the sweater was cut away and small fibers were pulled from the bloody mess.

"Sorry, but this will hurt," one of the medic's inform's Spike before they start to clean the wound.

"Yeow. Thanks for being honest," Spike half winces half smirks as the cool disinfectant starts to dance with his chewed up flesh. The medic adds a few dissolving stitches before telling Spike he'd either have to take off his jeans or they'd have to cut them off to get to the cut on his leg.

"I need a new pair anyways," Spike mentions casually, frowning as he watches the medic cut the denim around the wound and then work on the same as with his arm.

"A few more scars to brag about," Wordy winks when Spike looks up in frustration. "You have another pair back at home base right?"

"Yep," Spike nods and then looks back down. "So did you know what they wanted?"

"Yeah Troy was able to help us figure it out. Those two had a long history of grisly death's behind them. Good work using your training exercise to stall for time."

"Just glad you guys got my message in time," Spike slightly huffs as the medic finally finishes. He signs a few papers and then slowly follows after Wordy to the last black SUV that was waiting, Ed already having gone back with Greg.

Spike carefully gets into the front and just stares out the window with a placid expression.

"I know it hurts but um…"

"She used me. It was all a lie right?"

"You can't blame yourself for any of this. They targeted you specifically. Trust me if they hadn't heard…"

"Then it would have been someone else and then they would have failed and just kept going," Spike pauses before he continues. "Glad it ended with me," he concludes on a sour note.

"I'm sorry…you know I'm really sorry," Wordy groans as he slows the SUV and looks over at Spike. "I almost feel responsible."

"You? Why? Even if you said no, I probably woulda still gone with her."

"Damn it," Wordy lightly chuckles.

"What?"

"Ed said the same thing."

"I promise I won't tell him about that," Spike smirks and Wordy just nods.

"But seriously, I shoulda said…"

"What?" Spike counters. "She only wants to have a one night stand? I think I got that. I mean a woman like that…"

"Don't sell yourself short okay?"

"Well I have babycakes and that's fine."

"Okay stop with the sad stories," Wordy warns in a friendly tone.

"Hey I still gotta go home after all this and explain something to my mother," Spike groans. "Speaking of sad stories."

"Wanna spend the night with us?"

"Sorry but um…I don't do threesomes," Spike gently chuckles.

"Good because that was never an option," Wordy smiles back, glad that his friend at least appeared to be taking it better than expected. But Spike, as they all knew, had become a master of hiding his real emotions, he had to for the most part because he lived with two people that made it hard for him to really express much openly. But if anyone with a trained eye looked very close, Spike was an open book, usually wearing his precious heart on his sleeve. He just needed people to protect him from those that would use that precious heart in a neferious way.

"We do have the foldout in the basement," Wordy reminds him.

"I don't want you to feel guilty," Spike counters.

"Okay so maybe some of it is guilt but…damn it Spike I do feel responsible. I should have just said no and that's it."

"Again with the you telling me what to do and me not listening."

"At least come over for dinner. Give yourself a chance to unwind."

"Thanks but um…I think I'll just…I just want to be alone."

"Spike, this woman offered you her most intimate embrace and then betrayed you. Going home with only yourself to talk to about that is not good. Trust me, it's not."

"I don't want to um…to talk about it. I should have known better."

"You didn't see it coming," Wordy insists.

"You did," Spike counter-argues.

"Not all of it. I got an odd…mostly shallow vibe but trust me I thought…"

"Either way it was a no-win situation right?" Spike asks in sorrow. "Maybe I'm fated to be alone."

"Don't feed on your father's negativity. You once told me that he said you'd always be alone as long as you were in this job and that isn't true," Wordy reminds his friend as they pull into the underground parking lot of the SRU home base. "This was one really bad luck case, but I'm willing to bet that was it."

"Alright well I'll see you tomorrow."

"Come on Spike."

"Was her family really sick like she claimed?"

"You might wanna ask Greg for all the details on that. We only heard…"

"They were married," Spike states point blank, looking ahead outside instead of at his friend.

"Yeah we um….we all heard. Sorry. I didn't want to bring it up again. Did she tell you?"

"No, David did," Spike answers in a small tone as his mind thinks back to just after he had been pulled from the first warehouse.

"So I hope you are happy for the death of my wife."

"He blamed me for her death but it uh...well it never really had a chance to sink in until now. Wordy maybe if…"

"Spike you did nothing wrong. She was as good as dead anyways from what you told me and how it went down. Besides, Ed checked the plane and there was only a single ticket in his name. He wasn't planning on sharing that money with anyone."

"Annabelle said that David had something on her…guess that was it. Till death do us part. But at the end she tried to help me."

"Well at least that is one positive note to end on right?" Wordy retorts.

"She was married Wordy," Spike remarks dryly. "But I'm alive…and alone."

"Damn with the morbid stories. Just for that you are coming for dinner and no arguments," he chuckles as they get out of the black SUV and head for the elevator to go up.

"No I um…I just wanna shower and go home and sleep."

"I know it hurts Spike. I know you have feelings and as much as you tell yourself that it was just a job and you can push past it because you were only together for a few days I know that's a lie. You were happy…talking about Vancouver and I know you wanted more."

"I did want more," Spike sighs as they head into the quiet locker room. "Yeah it hurt but…but whatever, it's over right? You don't need to feel sorry for me."

"I don't feel sorry for you because I know you hate pity more than you hate me making you my own homemade pasta," Wordy's fist lightly punches Spike's unwounded arm, forcing a small smile to his friends lips. "But I know you don't want to go home and just dwell on this. And sleep isn't on your mind as much as you think you are tired."

"I am tired and hungry."

"Spike…"

"I really wanted it to work," Spike huffs as he leans back against his locker.

"I know you did," Wordy acknowledges. "And one of these days it will work and she won't be…"

"Psycho?"

"Spike…"

"Or married?"

"Yeah that," Wordy smirks; his brow still furrowed. "So what do you say? I can barbeque a mean steak…rare like you like it."

Spike looks at his friend and can only offer a tired smile. In truth, he didn't want to go home after all this, making up some smooth lie to his mother as he inevitably would have to, only to have to suffer through dinner and then be alone with his thoughts. As much as he wanted to tell himself that he was only a job to her and her lies were bought and paid for by her murdering husband…

"She was married…why didn't I see that?"

"She was using you Spike. I know it hurts and I'm sorry," Wordy offers his friend in sorrow.

Her husband. That stung even more than if she was just another woman partnered with some guy only for money. These two had said vows, which obviously meant nothing until the 'death do us part', part. He was used. She had made him feel like a million dollars in only a few hours but it was all an act…he was used and he was human. It would hurt for some time.

"Okay so go have a shower…"

"I wonder what he had on her."

"Spike, she was probably telling you whatever she thought you needed to hear in order to get their money."

"It could have been the truth."

"Maybe her husband…I don't know had pictures or something. You couldn't have known as mostly everything about her was false."

"David did have something on Annabelle," Greg's warm voice is heard as he slowly walks up to them with a file in his hands.

"What?" Spike asks in haste.

"A son."

"A son?"

"Troy was able to unlock another file and find out who Patrick is. Her son. He's eight."

"Her son," Spike repeats with a heavy frown.

"Hers from before she met David. We found notes that he had kidnapped the child and was holding him in a safe house until Annabelle did all he needed her to do and then when he had gotten his money, he had said to her in a taped cell phone conversation that he would tell her where Patrick was being kept and she and him could go their own way and he would disappear."

"Plans changed…" Spike mumbles.

"What?" Both Wordy and Greg ask at once.

"I guess her conscience got to her in the end. All she wanted was her son."

"Spike, David wasn't planning on letting Annabelle get on that plane," Greg tells him in sorrow. "Another conversation was to the man holding the boy giving him instructions on what to do with his body."

"I know. Where is her son now?"

"He was found a few days ago by the FBI at a hiding place in Newark and is being sent to live with her sister in Seattle which is close to Annabelle's family in Vancouver. That much was true. Her mother does have early Alzheimer's and her other sister was killed in a plane crash as she told you."

"Right…thanks."

Without saying another word, Spike turns his back to them, opens his locker, pulls out a small bag and then slowly heads toward the showers, leaving Wordy and Greg to ponder this newest information.

"Make sure he's not alone tonight."

"He agreed to have dinner with us but I'll chain him to the couch if I have to," Wordy smirks, earning a pat on the back from their boss.

"See you both tomorrow."

Wordy calls Shelly and tells her to set one more place setting for Spike and that they'd be home shortly. But about twenty minutes later, after the water had been turned off, all that was left was silence and Wordy quickly pushes himself up to go and investigate.

"Spike?" Wordy calls out as he heads for the showers, Sam and Ed entering the locker room behind him. "Hey Spike you descent?"

"What's goin' on?" Ed asks in interest.

"Not sure yet," Wordy replies as he enters the shower area. "Spike?"

But instead of finding his friend, he sees the ripped and bloody sweater and jeans in the garbage and the back door open.

"Ah damn it!" Both Ed and Sam hear and exchange wondering glances as Wordy reappears.

"What's up?" Sam queries.

"Spike's gone," Wordy comes out with a semi-panicked expression.

A/N: Okay so am gonna wrap up next chappy but where to do you think Wordy will find Spike? Hope you liked the small twist in this chapter and please review and let me know what you thought and thanks!