Can't believe the title of this chapter is a song in the BBC Sherlock score- I'm lame and I ran out of ideas, though I can say that singular score from the soundtrack probably fits pretty accurately with the intensity of this chapter very well, ha. Anyway, warning for needles in this chapter.

Rosemary's breath was knocked out of her at the sight of Spencer standing in the large barn doorway, the doors having been flung open only seconds earlier. Her moment of weakness, however, allowed her opponent to tear the hammer from her grip and whirl around her, pulling her close in a rough manner.

Three guns were aimed right at them, steady agents holding a line of fire as Rosemary released shallow breaths, held tightly over the chest by a strong arm.

A deadly silence filled the barn, the moon's light casting frighteningly tall shadows as it poured in from behind the agents. Rosemary locked gazes with Spencer, whose arm was wavering just slightly as he watched her, something in his face she couldn't yet decode. She couldn't understand just what this very situation meant to him.

"Drop the hammer," Spencer finally spoke, intense eyes remaining on the emotionless mask. "If you bash her head in, your scene is ruined. You know you will never find another that can replace her- that's why you came after her a second time."

Hotch and Morgan made sure to scan the perimeter before breaking into the seemingly empty farmhouse, guns at the ready and leading them in defense as they made their way into each dark room of the house, looking for a sign of life- or just the opposite.

"Nothing," Morgan shook his head as they met in the large dining room, where only basic, decaying wooden furniture remained.

"Something feels off about this," Hotch said as he scanned the room, his gut unable to find ease.

"Maybe we need to be looking for a hidden room- a cellar or something," Morgan suggested.

"Let's check under all the rugs, there are a few scattered around."

The two agents split, Morgan going upstairs as Hotch plucked up the threadbare carpet in a parlor room.

His intuition had been correct- a mismatching chunk of floorboard with a heavy duty lock keeping it shut.

"Found something in the parlor, get back down here," he spoke into his small microphone under his sleeve. He soon heard Morgan's heavy steps descending from the stairs in the other part of the house and the agent joined him in the parlor.

"Good call," Morgan complimented as they stared at the trapdoor.

"I'm going to have to shoot the lock, so stand back," Hothh informed his companion. Morgan complied, moving away as Hotch aimed his gun, his features wincing slightly as the bullet shot out and the sound echoed loudly in the room. The lock shattered and pieces flew in a scatter on the floor.

Morgan reapproached as Hotch very carefully and deliberately opened the door and, before looking down, he called down, "Is there anyone down there?"

"Hey! Hey, is that the police? Jesus Christ, thank you! Come get me out of here!"

It was a male voice. Hotch and Morgan shared dubious looks, before deciding to head down, still on their guard.

Rosemary's chest felt as if it was caving in and she desperately wished the agents could make it end once and for all. But her captor still had an upper hand- she could feel the metal of the hammer grazing the hairs on her head.

"She's the one you've really wanted through all of this- none of the other scenes could even come close to what you could do with her," Spencer continued, stepping forward and lowering his gun as if to show he was incapable of causing harm. J.J. and Blake, however, kept a tight reign on their positioned guns.

"You can't kill her now."

Rosemary forced her eyes to look as far up as they could see, and the hammer had disappeared from her line of vision. She heard a soft thud, and she felt a shudder roll through her body.

"Good- this isn't the way you want to do it. She has to stay beautiful for your creation to look its best, right?"

"Spencer, don't," Rosemary choked out, suddenly frightened for his life over hers. He was getting too close, and she did not trust this man was going to surrender so easily.

As Spencer's eyes landed on hers in a moment of distraction, her assailant reached into the bag that was now resting against the front of her body, whipping out something that blurred past her vision as he now held it out of her line of sight.

"Don't!" J.J. ordered in a strong, forceful voice, both women shifting their stances in a way that made Rosemary tense up again.

As she looked back at Spencer, he seemed frozen in a state of shock, though he quickly wiped the look off his face.

"You can't have more than enough to knock her out again in there," he stated flatly, and Rosemary felt a sharp pin poke into the sensitive skin of her neck.

"No," she choked out, not wanting that needle in her neck again.

And then, to everyone's surprise- he finally spoke. After so many encounters of only silence, Rosemary's walking nightmare was now speaking.

"It's enough to kill her in minutes," he disagreed, his voice monotonous yet chillingly cruel.

"Put it down," Spencer demanded, his voice somewhat resilient though Rosemary could detect a hint of shakiness.

"We will be forced to shoot if you don't surrender now," Blake informed the masked man, her tone suggesting this was not the route he would want to go down.

"Spencer." It bubbled past Rosemary's lips involuntarily. Her body was warning her, adrenaline was pumping through her at a rate she did not trust to be a good sign...

"I'm sorry."

She felt the arm slide down off her chest very slowly, and surprise hit her with full force- was he really giving in?

"Good, now drop the syringe and come towards me-"

"HEY!"

Gunshots rang out and echoed into the high ceiling, and the screams of the other girls sounded.

Hotch and Morgan lowered their guns as they hurried forward to check on the rugged male who had been chained to a wooden shelf that seemed to be a makeshift bed attached to the wall.

"Get these off me, please," he begged.

"We'll get you out real soon," Morgan promised, looking around for keys or something to pop those chains off. The room was pretty barren and only held junk material that wouldn't help get the chains off.

"He doesn't leave them here," the young man informed them in a quaking voice.

"Where did he go?" Hotch cut to the chase, frowning as he watched the male intently.

"I think he went to the barn- that's where the girls are," the victim swallowed, his dark-circle framed eyes lowering.

"Morgan, you stay here and call Garcia to send a medic and backup. They could be in more trouble than we expected."

Morgan nodded, already speaking into his microphone to get Penelope's aid.

As Hotch ran for the barn, he heard a series of gunshots that nearly stopped him in his tracks. Instead, he sped up, breathless as he headed straight for the open barn doors.

The agent came to careful stop and looked in at the disaster that lay before him.

Blake was crouched over a body, and Hotch stiffened as she pulled back to reveal the identity of the victim.

It was their unsub.

He tore his gaze away to look at J.J., who was kneeling beside a distraught Reid. The male agent was clutching Rosemary's body in his arms, her torso in his lap. Hotch approached warily, not sure what to expect.

"She's not...?"

"She only has minutes before she is," Spencer spoke in a cracked voice, looking up at the agent with frightened, teary eyes. "It's going to shut down all of her organs soon, we need to get her the antidote, I-"

"Where would it be?" Hotch cut in, knowing Spencer was seconds away from losing all stability.

"I don't know," Spencer shook his head, brushing hair out of Rosemary's face with trembling fingers. "It has to be here somewhere, he would have kept it near him- there's no way he wouldn't have kept an antidote on him-"

"We'll find it, Spence," J.J. promised, shooting up from the floor to approach Hotch. They exchanged unsure gazes, both knowing they didn't have time to lose looking for this antidote. But they couldn't actually guarantee that their unsub had even bothered to keep one with him- he might not have had any intention of rousing anyone from near-death.

"Where would this guy put an antidote?" J.J. asked Hotch, approaching the unmoving body that Blake was now standing over.

"Is he enough of a narcissist to leave it in plain sight?" Hotch wondered in a low voice, watching J.J.

"Blake, could you keep an eye on the girls?" J.J. asked quietly, blue hues moving over the huddled group of women who seemed distraught. Even Erin had a ghastly look to her sharp features, knowing that had it not been for Rosemary, she might have been killed only minutes earlier.

"Got it," Blake nodded, approaching the trio to console them until backup could arrive.

"Spencer, we know you're struggling right now- but we need your mind to help us try and figure out where the antidote could be," Hotch requested gently, kneeling beside the agent. He glanced at Rosemary; her face had gone pale under the stream of light from the sky and her breathing was so slow, it was almost undetectable.

Spencer shook his head but did not deny the request, his eyes on Rosemary as he tried to come up with some answers. Now was not the time for his brain to fail him. This would not end like Maeve- not if he could help it.

The agent tore his eyes away from his fast-fading beloved to scan the barn, taking in even the most minute of details to solve this dilemma.

"You," he said abruptly, causing Blake and the group of women to cease their quiet conversation and face him. "The golden apple. Bring it here, quickly please."

Hotch and J.J. both watched in curiosity as Erin came forward with the golden apple in hand, her expression solemn. Spencer held his hand out for it, and she placed it in his palm gently. Immediately a frown pulled Spencer's eyebrows together and he glanced back at the two agents with lips parted in shock.

"This isn't a real apple- it's hollow," he explained, his enthusiasm quickly growing. "Grab me one of those tools off the wall, hurry!"

J.J. hastily jogged to the wall and plucked a rusty hacksaw off of the nail it hung on. She brought it back over to Spencer, who shifted to set the apple on the ground and furiously, though making sure not to cut too deep, sliced the apple. In a second it cracked and he was able to force the halves apart, his hands trembling in overwhelming alleviation at his discovery.

A small though wide vial of infused liquids had been contained within- had the unsub succeeded in his final plan, it would have essentially been a taunt to put the cure to the cause of these girls' deaths in the center object of the whole scene.

Spencer lunged across Rosemary's body to grab the fallen syringe, his hands working nimbly to pop open the vial and collect some of the liquid into the syringe.

"You're sure this is the antidote?" Hotch asked warily, eyeing the syringe with some uncertainty.

"It has to be," Spencer said, his back facing the agents as he held the syringe in contemplation, appearing a tad hesitant.

"Maybe we should wait for a medic..." J.J. suggested softly, her eyes on the fine point of the needle.

"If we wait for them, she'll be dead!" Spencer replied with a harshness that was an attempt to mask his fears and also conveyed his instability. "I have to do this."

Everyone in the barn watched with bated breath as Spencer pulled down the fabric of the chiton to reveal the top of her bosom, aiming the needle right above the skin. He was unsure, but only for a moment.

His hand came down and the needle broke through the skin smoothly, right to her heart. Spencer shakily pushed down to inject all of the liquid he had collected into her body. When the syringe was fully drained, he removed the needle and tossed the tool to the side, using his now free hand to better hold her head up and wait for a sign that the antidote was coursing through her blood and reversing its counterpart's effects.

As the seconds ticked by and no signs showed Rosemary's health was no longer deteriorating, the unease in the air grew thick.

"Spencer..." J.J. sighed, shaking her head despondently.

"It's going to work," he insisted in a frail tone, unflinching in his position.

The sounds of sirens reached their ears and Hotch realized their backup had finally arrived.

"Blake, let's get the girls to the medics immediately," he requested, to which Blake guided the girls towards the entrance to leave the barn.

"Is she dead?" June asked in the most desolate tone, tears leaking out of her kindly eyes.

Hotch could not say anything, and Spencer remained quiet, so he simply offered her a grave look. She began to sob as Blake continued leading them out, Vera shooting a look over her shoulder as they exited.

Spencer had already begun to cry in silence over Rosemary's form, his eyelids squeezed shut as he couldn't bear to look at her nearly lifeless features any longer. Tears rolled down his cheeks and his torso shook with the sobs he held within. The agents came closer and J.J. kneeled beside him, putting her arm around her despairing friend. If there was anything any of them could have done to stop this, they would have done it. To see suffer Spencer suffer like this again was torture.

Then, taking them all by surprise, several shallow breaths forced close together in timing reached their ears. Spencer's eyes opened a fraction as if he wasn't sure he had heard right, and all three of the agents trained their gazes on Rosemary's face. Her features were contorting in what appeared to be pain, though her eyes were still shut tight. Her hand suddenly flew to her chest, grasping at the fabric of the dress as if it was too tight on her chest.

"Ow," she moaned in a whine, keeping her eyes closed. "It's... heavy... squeezing me..."

Spencer quickly realized she must be feeling the full effects of the medicine pumping through her heart and out into her bloodstream, which could cause an intense pain, as if someone was squeezing her chest and arteries in a relentless hold.

"Rosemary, it's Spencer," he choked out, swallowing his pain and tears to keep her with him. "Can you open your eyes for me? I'm right here, look."

"What's- happening to me? Why does my body feel so... strange?"

Her sentences were a bit broken up as she pushed back against the pain and waves of unusual feelings enveloping her body.

"You almost died, Rosemary," Spencer explained, choking up again as he uttered the words aloud. "But you're going to be okay."

"Did you.. save me?" she forced out in a quiet, pained voice, her brows still furrowed over the shut eyes.

"Yeah- yeah, I did."

Hotch and J.J. exchanged looks, both of them unable to stop the relieved smiles that spread across their lips. Rosemary's hand moved from her chiton to feel for him, and Spencer quickly found her hand, holding it tightly in his own.

"That's you," she murmured in slight surprise.

"It's me."

Her eyelids finally fluttered up to reveal zoned out deep brown hues, and the brunette took a moment to focus on the face staring down at her. Her lips parted as her surprise was replaced by joyful relief, and she lifted her arm weakly, now fully aware of the hand intertwined with her own.

"You're holding my hand," she noted, a bit of a haze still over her from the drugs but a smile on her face all the same.

"And I'm never letting go so you can't run off on me like that again," Spencer chuckled in relief, though it was shaky.

"You were crying?" she then inquired, her smile fading as she saw the tear stains on his cheeks.

"I thought I was going to watch you die," he murmured painfully, his eyebrows raising expressively as he spoke.

"No. I wouldn't do that to you."

His lips curved into a goofy grin and he lowered his gaze, unable to hide his happiness.

"No. You wouldn't."

Rosemary smiled again, and Spencer carefully helped her lean up just a bit so she could further burrow herself into his hold, his arm tight around her as their hands remained glued together.

Nope, this is not the end, reader! Of course, we haven't fully revealed the man behind the mask or what happens from here! I hope this was a nice way to repay you for sticking around after TWO cliffhangers.