Chapter 11: Deja Vu
When Grace came to, she was tied to a chair. Her hands were cuffed with handcuffs and a tall, dark-skinned man stood over her.
"Grace, Grace Grace," the man sneered, "karma's a bitch, ain't it?"
"Morgan?" Grace asked, wearily.
"It's okay if you don't remember me. We only worked together for about, oh, one week."
"What do you want with me?" Grace asked.
"It's simple. Take you back where you belong."
"What did I ever DO TO YOU?!" Grace all but screamed.
"You took my job! You didn't deserve to be on the team anyway!"
"Says who?" Grace taunted back, "Hotch thought I was well-qualified for the job." Morgan snorted.
"A serial killer's daughter, yeah right."
"You're no better than he is, Morgan," Grace neogitated.
"At least I didn't kill Haley Hotchner in this house. Hotch didn't beat me to death in this very room," Morgan raged.
"George Foyet did that," Grace stated, calmly, "I know what he did to you. You gotta let it go, man."
"What? You know better than me? Show up on the first day and everyone praises you? Agent Grace FOYET!" Morgan yelled.
"They're gonna find you," Grace said, "and you're not gonna stand a chance. Why'd you kill Uncle Bo. WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO YOU MORGAN?" The fear in her bones was replaced by rage, realizing she was face to face with her uncle's killer.
"He raised a killer.," Morgan answered, "being a Foyet gave him bonus points in my book."
"Who I am shouldn't mean anything to you! Bo's never been anything but sweet and loving and YOU TOOK THAT AWAY! Why? Because of my past?! Because YOU got fired because of your big ego?"
"What, is your beloved Aaron Hotchner gonna save you today? I've never known him to save a killler."
"I'm not a killer. I've never even shot an unsub before! Besides, when they find you, Hotch just might do worse to you. You really are no better than my father. " Morgan raised the knife.
"Are you scared? You should be, Grace. This is FATE," he ranted, "your uncle Bo won't be there. Prepare to meet your father." He looked up to the sky.
"George Foyet, I believe you and your daughter have not been properly introduced." He aimed the knife towards the agent's chest.
"Drop the knife Morgan," Hotch commanded, venom laced in his tone.
"She deserves this!" the agent-turned-killer ranted.
"No, she does not," Hotch neogitated, "now drop the knife."
"She was never supposed to be on this team!" Morgan yelled.
"Why?" Reid asked, "who are you to say who can and can't be in the B.A.U?"
"She's cursed!"
"Is this what it's about?" Hotch cocked his head to the side, "Grace Foyet joining the B.A.U? Has this always been your motive? What about those innocent people in Boston, Morgan? The couple coming home from the concert?" Morgan shook his head.
"No, no, no."
"No, you DIDN'T think," Hotch said, "now drop the knife and let her go." He inched closer to his former colleauge.
"Hotch..." Rossi trailed off.
"Please, just get me out of here!" Grace cried.
"No, man, you didn't think before bringing in a KILLER into the B.A.U!"
"She's not the serial killer, Morgan. You are." Two shots rang out and, then, it was all over. Derek Morgan was dead.