In less than half an hour they were on the plane heading for Ohio; they all knew the statistics for abducted children. There was no time to hang around. Reid took a seat by the window table and Morgan sat opposite him. They still hadn't had a chance to talk yet.
Prentiss came over with the open laptop and set it down on their table so Garcia could see them all through the webcam during the briefing. Hotch began with the details of the latest victim.
"Lucy Davies, twelve years old, went missing on the way to school."
"How do we know she isn't just cutting class?" Prentiss asked.
"Her schoolbag was left by the side of the road we think she was abducted from."
"So the unsub has a car?" Morgan said.
"I think we can safely assume so, yes. Each girl's dump site was far enough from the site of abduction that some sort of vehicle would have been necessary." Hotch took out two photos, one of Maria Goldmund's body, one of the first girl, Viola Jackson. "The established MO so far has included a range of methods of torture. We are definitely dealing with a sexual sadist here, he keeps them for up to a month, bound with rope and gagged while he rapes them repeatedly."
Morgan glanced at Reid, but the young man didn't show any outward signs of distress. He just stared at the pictures bleakly, his hands fidgeting restlessly on the table.
"The final cause of death has been asphyxiation in each case, he uses his hands to give him utter control over their death, so he can look them in the eye when the life leaves them." Prentiss added.
"Okay, when we land we make our base the house of Lucy Davies, try to keep the parents calm, find out everything they know, and wait by the phone in case the unsub contacts them."
"You think he will?" JJ asked.
"Look at the photos, the way they're tied up naked, with their legs spread like that, the way he smashes up their faces. He's going for maximum shock value, not anonymity. He's narcissistic, so there's a strong chance he'll contact the parents or the press pretty soon. JJ I know it's too late to keep the story out of the media, so could you give them a statement saying we have very few leads? I'm worried that if he thinks we're closing in on him he may kill the girl and run. Also, ask them to avoid hurting his self-image or belittling him, or he may do something to her in retaliation. Garcia I want you to widen the boundaries, look for other murders where the victims were tied up and displayed like this, it's possible he's new to the state."
"Yes sir." She saluted them, blew a kiss at Morgan and signed off.
"Why do you think he's just moved here?" Rossi asked.
"I'm not certain he is, but something in his use of dump sites suggests he doesn't know the area well. For example with the first victim, he avoided this whole stretch of mostly empty road here and placed the body in a ditch in a public park, which is a pointless risk. Then, instead of dropping the next body far away from it to conceal his location, the next site he chose was under a rail bridge not two blocks away."
Rossi nodded. "So there could be more victims."
"Let's hope I'm wrong. In the mean-time everyone prepare yourselves and get some rest. It's going to be pretty hectic down there."
The team nodded and all withdrew to their own little corners of the plane, leaving Morgan alone with Reid. The young man wouldn't meet his eye.
"How're you feeling?" Morgan asked finally.
"I'm okay." Reid mumbled.
"Right." He raised an eyebrow. "How're you really feeling?"
"Fragile."
Morgan gently placed his fingers over Reid's writhing hands which belied the rigid mask of serenity he wore. Reid hastily subdued them and finally looked up at him.
"You should be at home resting." Morgan said.
Reid shook his head. "Dilaudid withdrawal symptoms peak between 14 hours and 21 hours. The worst is behind me. A couple of weeks and I'll be back to normal."
Morgan felt the young man's forehead with the back of his hand. It was burning hot and clammy.
"You didn't need to quit cold turkey. You've got to be in agony right now."
"It has to be this way. I can take it."
Morgan wished for the thousandth time that there was something he could do to make Reid feel better.
"Last night…" Reid began. "thanks. For warning me about Hotch."
"No worries man. You'd have done the same for me right?"
"Yeah. It's just…I hate that you had to see me like that. I always promised myself…that no matter how bad it got, I would never be a burden to anyone."
"You aren't." Morgan said matter-of-factly. "I'd do anything to help you, you know that."
"I don't need any help!" Reid snapped.
"Sure. Sure. You're totally all-powerful and invincible. Sorry Superman, I forgot." He laughed. "I'm just saying, if Superman ever…you know, needed a break or something from being Superman, I just want him to know that it's cool. Robin has his back."
Reid scoffed. "Robin is Batman's sidekick. If you're gonna use superheroes in your metaphors you should at least read a comic book once in a while."
"Woah sorry." He held his hands up mock-defensively. "But maybe Robin moonlights as Superman's sidekick now and then. Would that be okay?" he nudged Reid's foot with his own.
"I suppose." Reid nudged him back, and a short foot war ensued, ending with Morgan pinning both Reid's feet down.
"Pffft. If I hadn't injected myself with kryptonite yesterday I would've totally owned your ass."
You already own my ass baby boy. Morgan thought, grinning. You just don't know it yet.
He released Reid's feet, but their legs stayed entwined. Not scandalously so, just in that their calves rested against one another comfortably. Reid leaned his head against the window and watched the clouds batter the plane like angry ghosts. Eventually he closed his eyes, and pretended not to notice when Morgan started to gently stroke the back of his leg with his foot.
Suddenly the laptop gave a beep to signal Garcia's return.
"Wow that was fast babygirl, you done already?"
"Oh yes, Reid isn't the only one with superpowers on this team." She winked. "Cute conversation guys."
Reid went bright red.
"Uh…Garcia, I'd appreciate it if…"
"No worries Clark Kent, your secrets are safe with me. Mama-Garcy has your back." She laughed. Morgan shook his head at her mock-disapprovingly.
"Have you always been able to listen to us after you hang up?" he asked suspiciously.
She gave a short burst of maniacal laughter which made everyone on the plane jump.
"Can we get back to talking about the case please?" Reid said.
"Very well Sugarplum. First off, wow was Hotch right about our killer, he has been busier than we realised. I've just sent you a list of thirteen girls who were all reported missing, then found dead and tied up around a month later. The first three deaths were all years apart, but since last year there's been one death every month with terrifying regularity. He keeps jumping state lines so the police never connected them."
"There could have been some kind of trigger which started the escalation, something he took to be a slight to his manhood."
"It's actually unusual for paedophiles to be so violent. They generally use emotional manipulation or drug the children to get them to comply." Reid frowned.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm not sure. The torture definitely reads more like a sexual sadist. But for the two conditions to combine in one individual is statistically very unlikely."
"So you think this isn't the work of a paedophile?"
"I think it feels more like an ordinary sexual sadist with a personal grudge."
"What can a twelve year old have done to make him this angry?" Garcia said, shocked. "No wait, don't answer that. Just tell me what you need."
"Nothing for now babygirl, we need to talk to the parents and work out our profile."
"Okay. I'll keep my feelers out on the internet. Hotch said he might be filming the torture and uploading it so he can…" she stopped when she saw the look on his face. "Morgan? What's wrong?" she asked, seeing the look on their faces.
"Nothing babygirl. We're landing now so I'm gonna have to shut you down. Keep up the good work." He said, with hollow cheeriness.
"Oh…okay. Over and out." She gave a half-hearted salute and ended the call.
He shut the laptop down and looked at Reid. He was looking at the table, his face still blank, but he was scratching his left wrist a little too hard so his nails left a trail of pink lines crossing over each other. Morgan never knew anybody who had such expressive hands.
Reid saw Morgan watching his hands and pulled his sleeves down over them self-consciously, then smiled sadly.
"It's getting hard to ignore the similarities now isn't it? I half expect we'll find Eric Faraday's evil twin is behind it."
Morgan squeezed Reid's knees gently between his thighs in a sort of knee-hug.
"I know." He smiled and leaned forward. "But we'll get through this, I promise you that. Kay Superman?"
"Okay." Reid rolled his eyes at the nickname. "And then you and I are going to have a superhero movie marathon to educate you."
Morgan laughed. "Deal." He agreed casually, though the thought of just sitting on Reid's couch with him in the dark, eating popcorn and talking, made a couple of butterflies awaken in his stomach and tickle his gullet. He tried not to smile too much.
They continued to chat while the plane finished its descent. There were two cars waiting for them at the airport, which took them to the house of Lucy Davies.
...
Hotch rang the doorbell and a tired looking dark haired man in his late twenties answered it. He was carrying a sleeping baby girl, clutching her to his chest as if scared somebody would try to steal her as well. He was quickly joined by a woman.
"Are you Tom and Deborah Davies?" Hotch asked. They nodded anxiously. "I'm Agent Hotchner from the FBI, this is my team of specialist profilers. May we come in?"
"Sure." Said Mrs Davies standing back from the doorway. Hotch sat down with the couple on their couch while the rest of the team stood around them and listened.
"I can't imagine what you're going through right now, but I need to ask you some questions, is that alright?" Hotch asked gravely.
They nodded. "We'll do anything if it might help get our daughter back." Mr Davies said, his voice cracking. The baby girl looked up at him worriedly and started to whine.
"Here, why don't I take you up to your room for some play time?" JJ said, holding her hand out. Mr Davies hesitated but then smiled and thanked her.
They went through every possible angle again, no family disputes, no irate employees, no obvious link to the other families. Hotch also went through the procedure in case of a phone call. The phone didn't ring though. Morgan went through to the kitchen and made coffee for everyone. He sighed and leant against the kitchen sink waiting for the kettle to boil.
"Doesn't look like he's going to call them today." Reid spoke quietly from the doorway.
Morgan massaged his forehead.
"I can't stand waiting around here and not doing anything. I was thinking, it wouldn't hurt to check out the place she was taken from, see if he left a footprint or something."
Reid nodded. "Yeah, sounds good. Can I come too? I could use some fresh air."
"Sure." He nodded. "Man I just can't stop thinking about what that psycho could be doing to her right now. Imagine how scared she must be."
Reid nodded. "I don't have to imagine." He said so softly Morgan almost didn't hear him.
...
WOO double chapter :D I'm such a dutiful author (totally hoping this will distract you from my long absence) '^^
There's actually quite a funny story behind it. Since so much of my holiday was spent writing my two fanfictions, my mum got curious and one evening at dinner she asked me what I was writing. Perhaps unwisely, I replied; 'uh, it's just a novel I've been working on,' and since a certain german family friend was present (and he liked to mock me constantly) I got a little ahead of myself and was like 'oh yes, I'm past 50 pages now, it's a science fiction/philosophy themed book with postmodern influences, centered on the nature of memories and the part they play in shaping our identity.' They were all like D: and I was like :3 Me:1 German douche-bag: nil.
However. Around a week later I'd forgotten all about it when my mum says, hey, you totally have to put the fact that you're writing a novel in your college application. Me: ...*gropes around for excuse not to* Long story short, I am now writing a 'science fiction/philosophy themed book with postmodern influences, centered on the nature of memories and the part they play in shaping our identity' purely out of guilt, and because should I end up being accepted, for the rest of my days at that college I would be irrationally terrified that my interviewer would one day demand to read it and I would be forced to admit that my intellectual postmodern style novel was actually gay porn. And lets face it I don't even write proper hard gay porn so much as write in far too much detail about the angsty hypothetical love-lives of fictional men who occasionally have implausible sex scenes with other men. GAAAH.
I officially fail at living.