Chapter 17: Shattered

When Reid was finally able to check his phone, he saw a text from Morgan. "Hmm, that's strange." As he sat at his desk, he looked around for Hotch or Garcia to ask if he'd called in, but they were nowhere to be found. "Maybe his voicemail isn't working." He texted back to say: Okay, I hope we're on for tonight. I have something important to discuss with you.

Next he called Michael and reached his voicemail. "How come nobody wants to talk to me?" he kidded to himself during Michael's greeting. "Hi, Michael, it's Spencer. I… I was hoping I could come over this afternoon and speak with you, um… I think… I mean, I think you know that we need to talk… in person, sooo, uhh, anyway, I'm pretty sure you'll be home? Call me if it's a problem, otherwise I'll see you in a half hour or so? Okay, bye."

Reid had to make one stop on the way to Michael's… an extremely important stop.

In just under ten minutes he was standing at a jewelry counter opening a ring box. He pulled it out to inspect the engraving he had added to it. "You Are My Constant," he read aloud. He inspected the second one, very pleased, letting the corners of his mouth turned upward. "You guys are fast and they're perfect." He finally glanced up at the person behind the counter selling him the rings, "Thank you."

Morgan struggled to open his uninjured eye after the second beating to his head. He was pretty sure he'd been knocked out for a significant amount of time. He could hear someone moving about and out of the corner of his eye, he could see them pacing near him. "Michael's going to be home any minute. I'm so excited."

That's why I'm not dead yet. She's waiting for Michael. He raised his hurting head and groaned. Her voice echoed in his ears, buzzing and adding to the pressure he already felt. He could sense a warm, stinging pain at the top of his scalp and wondered how bad it was. It didn't feel nearly as painful as the left side of his face still did. The only good news was that he was conscious and alive. He found a clock hanging on the wall in the dining room and had to try hard to focus, blinking his one good eyelid several times, but was finally able to see that it was almost one o'clock. He lowered his head again, only to notice all the glass had been cleaned up from the floor.

"I see you waking up, handsome…" she made her way over to him slowly. When his eye could focus in on her, he saw that she was redressed and had cleaned up his blood that she on her arm and mouth. "Look what I brought to the party."

She was holding a beautifully crafted 45 caliber pistol in her hand. Morgan found it almost impossible not to react; he didn't want to die and he knew that gun would blow his head clean off. When she held barrel to his temple, he held his breath and closed his eyes. If there was a God to hear him, he began praying to them. He prayed for Reid's safety and for the safety and happiness of all his family and friends. This is it, he thought. He could hear her finger squeezing the trigger and then CLICK. He flinched, and then let out a large breath as he began shaking, realizing no bullet had been fired. He opened his eye and immediately teared up.

"Whoopsie… I guess I forgot to load the magazine. Silly me." She leaned down and looked into his wet eyes for a quick moment until she felt he was sufficiently reminded that she was in charge and then walked away.

He made a conscious effort to breathe through it and was able to calm down after a few tears had spilled. Getting so frightened suddenly certainly didn't help his tolerance of all the coffee he'd drank this morning. Neither did the nap he was just forced. After several more minutes, he'd held it for as long as he could. Jesus, I'm gonna piss myself. "Maya…" his throat was so dry that he could barely get her name out. His mouth watering from crying had only made the inside of it feel sticky and gross. "Maya…" he managed with more volume.

She popped her head around the corner from where she was in the dining room. "What is it, sweetie?"

"I have to piss."

"What would you like me to do about that?" She came back to him and knelt down, looking up at him with pouty lips.

"Can you," he swallowed his pride, "Can you help me? I don't really feel like sitting in my own urine."

"Ohh… I see. What makes you think you're going to be alive long enough to care?" She actually smiled as she spoke to him.

Morgan's lungs deflated in defeat and he lowered his head.

"Awe… I didn't mean to upset you. Let me see what I can do. Less to clean up later, am I right?" Morgan actually let out a weak chuckle because she obviously meant after she killed him and he just couldn't believe how sideways she was. He watched her round the corner toward the kitchen and she was gone for just a moment. While she was away, he heard her load the magazine into the gun and he shook his head. She came back with beer pitcher, but he couldn't see the gun anywhere on her. "I might use something else. That one is just so big."

"Huh?" Morgan was barely following her, really starting to feel weakened and dazed.

"I saw you looking for the gun," she admitted before continuing so casually. "Okay, sailor…" she set the pitcher on the carpet and stuck her hand down his pants again. Morgan lips formed a hard line as he tolerated her intrusion; at least his pants were up around his waist again. She got really close to his face and said, "Just tell me if I'm being too rough." She maintained eye contact with him as she pulled him out. "Point and shoot?"

Where is that gun? And she has another one to use instead? Morgan maintained eye contact with her with his right eye and answered, "Pretty much," with a bit of a snarl to his upper lip.

She bent down to lift the pitcher to his lap and when she was face to face with him again, she asked, "Do you trust me?"

"Not at all." Morgan figured she would have him piss all over himself anyway.

She winked at him. "Ready."

He let his bladder release and shivered at the relief he felt. He closed his right eye and leaned his head back a bit, letting out a sigh. He felt her hair getting caught in his goatee and moved his head forward again. "I don't understand why you're doin' this, Maya."

"It's easy," she leaned in to kiss him but he turned his head. "You're in the way."

"Of what?"

She leaned in for another kiss. "My brother's happiness." As Morgan thought about that, she was able to kiss him on his lips. He was too lost in thought to care to stop her. She set the pitcher down and grabbed Morgan's attention again as she man-handled him back into his pants. Then she left with the pitcher towards the bathroom. He knew he didn't dare tell her that Michael was going to get broken up with today.

When she headed back toward him, they both heard a motorcycle pull up to the house. Morgan's gut flipped and began tying itself into knots instantly. He didn't know what to expect next. He didn't know if Michael had a hand in this or not. Maybe he was just as fucked up as his sister. Maybe this was all his idea. Morgan felt tingling just below the front of his shoulders as mild panic made itself known. He tried to take deep breaths, but he couldn't stop his heart from pounding as hard as it was. The pounding was so loud inside his own head that he was sure Maya could at the very least feel it against her back. He knew he'd never been so desperate or scared.

As the deadbolt turned, Maya stood in front of Morgan to block the view of him. She held her hands clasped together at her mouth, so giddy as her brother stepped inside. While Michael walked in, his eyes were aimed at the floor. He mumbled, "… but I haven't got a stitch to wear…" in tune, singing along with the song in his head. The second he looked up he froze at the sight of the the blood on the hallway wall, and on the carpet. Then he saw his sister. He could tell Maya had someone behind her as he closed the door. He slowly lowered his backpack and helmet to the floor while asking, "Maya, what happened? Whose blood is that?"

Morgan watched her from behind as she jumped up and down a couple of times. "Michael, I have a surprise for you."

"Who is that?" he asked, trying to see around her. "Whose Suburban is tha…?" His voice trailed off.

Maya stepped aside and Morgan and Michael made eye contact. Michael looked so confused. And Morgan watched as he just stood there, probably in a state of shock, not doing or saying anything, but it was clear he didn't know about this.

Don't stare at me, man. Do something. Get me out of here.

Michael swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and then spoke softly, "Maya, what have you done?"

Morgan caught on that the blame went right to her. There was no assumption from Michael that any action from Morgan caused her to defend herself in such an extreme way.

She looked confused for a second. "What do you mean? I'm getting rid of the problem. You and Spencer can finally be happy. Once I kill him, he won't be able to come between you and that adorable boyfriend of yours."

Everything she had just said seemed to suck the life out of Michael. He lost all the color in his face and looked absolutely horrified. His eyes slowly moved back at Morgan and that's when he could actually see all the injury she had afflicted on him and his expression became so saddened as he looked back to his sister. "Maya, I really like Spencer, but I barely know him…" he was in total disbelief. "You shouldn't have done this. It would have all worked out the way it was supposed to in the end." His eyes teared up as he continued to look at Morgan. "Maya… Oh my God…" he mumbled as he brought one hand up to his hair and rubbed at his head, lost in thought.

"You should be thanking me!" she suddenly geared up. "I've been protecting you from these assholes for so long!"

Michael's eyes got wide. "What does that mean?"

Morgan's eyes were trained on Maya now. Yeah, what the hell did she mean? Oh, shit. She's the unsub. He wondered how she did it. She had a goddamn alibi.

"This isn't the first time, Michael!"

"You've done this before?!" he unexpectedly yelled so loudly, more horrified than just a moment ago.

"The last couple of years have been a challenge, but I've kept you from getting further hurt by these guys who were so mean to you - calling you names and picking fights. And then there's all these one night stands – guys who you don't even know their names who you let use you. I know you get upset when they don't call you back for more. I know they've all hurt you in some way. You were always so hopeful something would click with someone and it finally did!"

She is one the most aggressive female killers I've seen, Morgan realized. She had genuinely enjoyed luring him, beating him down, inflicting his pain and horror, not to mention how sexually driven she was. And she was fearless. She was a rare breed. Women usually just get the job done; they don't play with their food, so to speak, but not her. Morgan knew now she was a killer that kept raising her own bar and that made her unbelievably dangerous. He was actually scared for Michael now too.

"That doesn't mean you need to kill everyone else!" he shouted over her.

Michael might as well not have said a word. She acted like she didn't hear him. "I'll admit, I've been on a little bit of a spree lately, almost getting caught; it's been risky, but so worth it. Spencer is so nice and sweet and he cares about you so much. I even came onto him and he turned me down, Michael. He turned me down! Me! He's the one! He's the one for you and me! We can all be a family now."

Michael didn't need to be reminded that he knew about that. It was something he hoped never got brought up again. The resulting anger and resentment that he'd tucked away so deeply quickly erupted. "I know about that, Maya! WHY WOULD YOU FUCKING DO THAT?!"" he screamed at her.

"I had to make sure he was good enough for you!" she shouted back, nearly in tears.

Then it finally dawned on Michael who was responsible for Jason's death. "You killed Jason," he tilted his head as he spoke in a normal tone to her. And she couldn't answer him fast enough before he exploded again. "YOU KILLED JASON? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?!"

She seemed almost as devastated as he was. She was so sure she had done everything in his best interest. "He threw you away, Michael!"

"I let him! He didn't want to be with me anymore! I let him go, Maya, don't you see!?"

A heavy tear dropped from her eye onto the floor, missing her face entirely. "Do you remember when I said I wouldn't let anyone hurt you ever again?"

Morgan saw Michael's expression change. He subtly grimaced like he was remembering how he felt that day or something. But there was something off about it and Morgan couldn't put his finger on it.

"I meant it, Michael …It all started with him. He was my first target, but I knew how much you loved him, so I waited until you wouldn't miss him if you'd heard he died."

Michael shook his head and tried to calm down so he could think more clearly. "I can't believe this." He looked at Morgan and decided at that moment whose side he was on. He loved Maya so much, but he couldn't allow her to get away with this. He looked her in the eye, "You need to stop this, Maya. Just stop. Stop everything you're doing here. Let him go. Let him go right now."

She looked a bit crushed. "But…" she sniffed and thought about it, but then decided it was too late to turn back and defied him. "No! I will not." Michael decided if she wasn't going to, he would. He quickly maneuvered around her and began toward Morgan to the center of the living room, but Maya grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?"

"I'm letting him go!"

"After everything I've done for you? You would risk getting me thrown in prison or executed? Is this what I get? Don't you love me?" Her grip on his arm was relentless. Her fingernails dug into his skin enough to make him cringe in pain. "I love you so much! This is how you repay me?" Her eyes were flooding with tears as she fought against his attempts to retrieve his arm from her grasp.

As a last second resort, he sent a right upper cut into her jaw, immediately knocking her out. She fell to the floor and Michael held a frightened stare off with Morgan until he told himself to keep moving.

"Oh my God, Derek…" Michael rubbed at his knuckles as he rushed to Morgan's side. He began to cry as he looked over the tortured man's condition. "What has my sister done? What has she done to you? Derek, I am so sorry."

"Just untie me so I can get out of here."

"I never wanted this. I never wanted –"

Morgan interrupted him. "She has guns, Michael. Mine and at least one more. You need to find them and secure them."

Michael instantly spun around and glanced over the entire room, moving into the dining room and kitchen. "I don't see any guns." He walked back to Morgan, pulling out his cell phone from his pocket. He tried to turn it on, so he could call for help, but it was dead. He walked back to Morgan with his phone in his trembling hands. "I'm sorry, I always forget to charge my phone before it dies."

Morgan could see Michael was very close to having a panic attack. "Michael, I need you to listen to me. "Are you with me?" He waited for Michael to look at him. He knew no amount of police training in the world would have readied Michael for this.

Michael nodded and tried to choke back his tears. "Yes, Derek, I… I am with you," he responded hesitantly, still trying to process his thoughts.

He caught Michael beginning to look to the floor where his sister lay. "Look at me, look at me," he told the scared man. "I need you to calm down. Take some deep breaths for me. Can you do that?" He did as Morgan had asked. "Good, okay, now… come over here and untie me. I'll watch Maya and tell you if she wakes up."

Michael nodded and then wiped his eyes. He walked passed his sister and kneeled down in front of Morgan. Morgan could feel the pressure from Michael's hands at his feet and he thanked any and all the higher powers that be.

As Michael struggled with the knots, he kept glancing up at Morgan. "Dr. Reid is on his way over right now and I know he is going to break up with me... After last night…" he shook his head and almost started to cry again. "…and then today … I can hear it in his voice..." He sniffed as he tried to focus on the knot. As he finally got it undone, he began to speak again. "I'm so sorry to have come between the two of you…"

"Michael, you don't have to –"

But Michael kept on, "It's you, Derek. It's always been you. You're the one he loves." Michael let out a laugh, "He couldn't even bring himself to have sex with me."

As surprising as that information was, Morgan couldn't let himself rejoice in the matter. Even though Michael was avoiding the obvious by talking about Reid, he could see, hear and feel Michael's pain. Morgan knew that every single aspect of Michael's world had just been shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces and that his heart was crushed. Just about everything Michael thought, knew and understood to be his truth was now destroyed. Morgan didn't know what to say to him and they both remained silent as he began to unravel the rope that had been strangling his leg. He mistakenly had let himself relax a little bit.

Just as Michael had released Morgan's second leg, the boys heard shuffling from where Maya lay. She had managed to get back on her feet and had a gun pointed at them, only this was a smaller gun that she must have been concealing on her body. It wasn't Morgan's.

Michael froze when he heard her cock the hammer.

"I said… get away from him."

Morgan and Michael made eye contact. "She won't hurt me," Michael assured him in quiet voice.

"Michael…" Morgan tried to warn; he could see the look on her face and the tension in her stance. "That woman is about to come unwound."

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" she screamed. "Don't you fucking ruin this for me, Michael! I am trying to make this work for us!" She began crying again. "I don't know what else to do!" More tears.

Michael ever so slowly began to lift off his knees. Morgan could only continue to watch in terror.

Michael remained with his back turned to his sister. "Maya, I know, and I am sorry… but I told you… I can't. I wish I could make you understand." A lone tear streamed down Michael's face.

She shook her head, almost like she was arguing with what he'd said, or maybe with herself, but then she became straight faced again. "Then stand back and let me do this! You owe it to me!"

What? Morgan knew he'd missed something here.

Michael slowly raised his arms and shaking hands and held them up to the height of his neck. "I can't let you, Maya. I won't." Another tear sent a wet trail down his cheek. He looked down to Morgan. "If the opportunity comes… run," he so quietly whispered. Morgan looked at him in awe, as if Michael knew something he didn't, like this was all gonna break loose in a matter of seconds and to be ready.

"Michael, I swear to God, if you don't move…"

Michael still kept his back to her, blocking her line of sight to Morgan. He smiled with a quiet laugh and his eyes welled up until they spilled over. He took in a deep breath, "No…" he told her.

"Step aside," she warned again. "Please, Michael," she cried. "I thought you loved me." Her voice was shaking, her hands were shaking and her tears were flowing at a full tilt. She screamed hysterically at the top of her lungs, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!?"

The gun in her hand had fired as she screamed.

Morgan flinched at the sound. He felt adrenaline suddenly speed through every nerve in his body and it felt like someone had lit his veins on fire. He looked up at Michael, but remained frozen. He heard the gun drop to the floor and he could hear Maya trying to scream, but only being able to cry out in an extended, strained whimper, like there wasn't enough oxygen left in her lungs to support the sound.

Michael abruptly coughed and blood spilled from his mouth. Morgan turned his head as he got sprayed with the blood, but he quickly looked back to Michael. She shot him. SHE FUCKING SHOT HIM. "Michael?" He didn't see any blood from an exit wound. Not good.

The look on Michael's face told Morgan that he understood what had just happened to him and he stumbled back a couple of steps, clutching onto the right side of his lower chest, probably knowing he was about to collapse. In just another second, his legs gave out and he fell, but he fell toward Morgan and landed on Morgan's knees and he tried to hold himself up. "Get out of here," was all he managed to choke out before he fell from Morgan to the floor and onto his back.

Morgan fought his urge to lift himself from the chair. He knew he could now that his legs were free, but as injured as his head was, he didn't quite trust his motor function. He knew Maya would still kill him and he knew he couldn't defend himself with his hands still tied behind his back.

Blood began to pool at Michael's right side as Morgan struggled with what to do next. Michael had just used himself as a fucking shield and took a gunshot to his back in an effort to ensure that Morgan didn't get hurt any more than he had. And now, Michael was gonna die because of it.

Maya stared at her brother on the floor. She was unable to move and unable to breathe as the shock began to take her over.

Morgan finally lifted his eyes and tried to push air in and out of his lungs as he watched Maya. What's your next move, genius?

"What just happened?" her face grimaced as she watched Michael bleed out onto the carpet. She finally looked at Morgan and the two stared at each other until she began crying a whole new batch of tears. She picked up the gun and tucked it into her pants, but then quickly moved to Michael's side. "Michael, honey…" She choked on her tears with every other breath. "Michael?" She caressed his face and then nudged him at his chest trying to wake him. "Michael, pleeeease… Don't leave. Don't leave me here all alone… Please?" She clutched her fists into the fabric of his shirt and rested her forehead on his chest. "I'll stop, I promise," she cried into his stomach. Her hair was spilling over, covering her ability to see anything around her.

Morgan's feet began to twitch and he couldn't stop squirming in his seat.

But she suddenly lifted her head and cried toward the ceiling until she was out of breath. She sucked in a huge breath of oxygen and wailed some more. After another minute, she suddenly stopped crying and repositioned herself so that she could cradle his upper body between her legs.

Morgan seriously wanted to ask why she wasn't calling for help. If he is so important to her, why in the hell would she just let him die? But he kept himself from reminding her that he was even there.

She pulled Michael's unconscious body upward so that the back of his head was resting on her chest and she held onto him and kissed his head as she rocked her body.

Morgan knew he had to make his move.

Maya closed her eyes, forcing new tears to escape and she bowed her head and kept crying into Michael's neck as his head relaxed against her arm.

Morgan watched and waited until he was sure she would be distracted for long enough. When he saw Michael's hand twitch, even though it wasn't, he took that as a sign. GO. He so very quietly lifted his body off of the chair, holding his breath the entire time. The chair didn't creak, his jeans didn't rustle, and he felt no pain. The adrenaline still coursing through him made sure of that.

As she continued sobbing, Morgan never took his eye off of Maya as he began to back away. He had never moved so slowly, so silently and never with so much purpose as he was doing right now. He needed to remove himself from this situation and to be less than successful just wasn't an option. His hands were still behind his back, but if he could just get to the door, he knew he could operate the knob just fine.

He kept his eye on her as he made his way to the door, walking backward. It seemed like she hadn't even taken a breath. She just cried and cried and cried. Morgan kinda hated himself for leaving Michael, though. He allowed this to happen for me. He wanted me to escape. Don't fuck this up. Get out of here. Michael's last words rang in his ears as he felt the back of his shoe touch the door. Morgan backed up his body and lifted his hands until he could feel the coolness of the doorknob. He turned the knob slow enough for it not to make a sound.

I've cried for Michael so many times all through writing this story, as it unfolded. I knew something tragic would happen. :(((((