Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine - Part 1
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
WC: 8.5k
TW: Guns, S2 E14/15 ie Revelations (lmao sorry gang), guns, police (acab), torture, character death, mentions of death, dead bodies, rabid dogs, loooots of bible talk, mentions of kissing, brief reminiscing of potentially more sticks to canon pretty closely meaning if you have issues with the Episode Revelations, then this might not be for you, neediness, crying, lack of crying, internalized emotions, mentions of cheating, mentions of past relationship trauma
A/N: So I'm pretty sure this reads as gn! Reid does quote a proverb that references women, but that's because the bible wasn't big on inclusivity when it came to shaming people who enjoyed sex...anywho! I love any and all feedback! Enjoy!
You, Emily, Hotch, Derek, Gideon and the Sheriff sat around the computer, staring at a woman tied up in a barn, in her slip dress, mouth duct taped over. A figure, who had hidden his face, was reading out a passage of the bible. Your eyes were glued to the screen.
A portion of Jezebel shall dogs eat the flesh of.
“No. no.” You turned around, not wanting to watch what was happening on the screen, just hearing it was almost too much.
“Jezebel’s Death.” muttered Gideon, his voice filled with solemnity.
“My god.” Emily turned away from the screen, copying your actions.
Finally, Hotch told Emily to turn it off, but not before the Sheriff jumped up. “Wait.”
You all looked at him, confusion written all over everyone’s faces.
“You hadn’t seen enough.” Derek quipped.
“Those dogs. Those three dogs attacked someone a couple of months ago. I would’ve had them impounded but the victim knew the owner.” The sheriff was sure about it, more sure about this than anything he had seen in his life. “A neighbor, he didn’t want to press charges.”
Gideon stared at him. “You sure?”
“As god as my witness.” The sheriff scrambled for his notebook, flipping to find something. “Three mangy mixes, I knew those dogs looked sick. I called in animal control, but I don’t know if they ever followed up on it.”
“Here it is.” He looked up from the page.
“You have the owner’s name?” Hotch leaned over glancing into the notebook.
“Hankel.”
Your eyes went wide. “Hankel?”
“Tobias Hankel.”
“That’s where Reid and JJ are.” You looked over at Hotch, who watched several waves of emotion fly over your face, trying to control all of them. He nodded and looked at everyone. “Alright let’s go.”
The sheriff yelled out for people to grab their gear while you asked Hotch for a second outside. He nodded and followed you outside to the parking lot. It was cold out, only because of the night breeze, allowing yourself to enjoy the lack of sun and heat.
Hotch was the only person who actually knew about you and Spencer’s relationship, not because you didn’t trust the team, but because the less people that knew about it, the better. You had watched agents lose their loved ones over and over, being used as pawns against one another, and you were terrified of that happening. The team knew you two really liked each other, and you would hope that it showed since you had been dating for almost a year.
You were the team's newest addition, right after Elle, younger than Spencer by a year, but still boasting your own PhD. The two of you clicked right away. And to a room of profilers, it was obvious that you two would work perfectly together, and you did.
So when you started dating a couple months later, you had kept it a secret, just to test things out, not make it public before you were sure. But then the whole “Fisher King” incident happened, and then Elle disappeared, which meant Emily had just joined, causing there to be really no time to just drop another bombshell on a team.
You didn’t mind though. It meant that despite the teasing, you got reassurance that Spencer absolutely had a crush on you, regardless of relationship status. Morgan teasing him over glancing at you one to many times had definitely boosted your ego a bit, but a little confidence never hurt anyone.
You looked up at Hotch, really trying not to freak out, counting your inhales and exhales, timing them so your heart wouldn’t give out. “Hotch if they aren’t…”
“I know.”
“I’m not asking you to promise me that everything is okay and he’s going to be fine, because we honestly have no reason to believe anything is wrong in the first place, but I–I just need to know that whatever might go down, I’ll have your support because…”
He nodded and put a hand on your arm, giving it a squeeze. “I know. I’m going to give you another minute out here, but then we need to go.” He went back inside, letting you close your eyes, breathing in the air, letting the coolness still your chest.
It was hard to only have Hotch know at times like these, or at least confirm his suspicions. You had been alone for about thirty seconds when Derek came out to greet you, bringing you your vest.
“Stressed out there Girl Genius?”
You nodded and accepted the vest, sliding it on, remaining silent.
“Hey.” You looked up at Derek who held his arms out, and you gratefully accepted the invitation. “Everything’s going to be okay. Maybe he’ll finally admit that he loves you if something bad happens.”
His joke landed but not in the way Derek thought. You scoffed. Derek sighed and pulled away a bit. “He really does like you Y/N, you just have to be patient with him.” You almost felt bad for not telling Derek the scoff was because you already had told one another, quite recently actually.
“Maybe Derek. Maybe. But for now, I want to make sure they’re both okay, and I’d rather it be sooner than later.”
The police pulled up to the Tobias household, sirens wailing, lights flashing around. You jumped out the car, gun in your holster, following Derek and Emily.
The sheriff stopped Morgan and told him about the barn in the back, and the three of you moved to the back of the house. You took out your gun and slowly followed behind Morgan and Prentiss, watching the door of the barn swing back and forth slightly in the wind.
Derek clicked on the flashlight, and you two did the same, following behind him as he took the lead into the barm. You shined a light through the empty stalls, rocking back and forth between each side, looking for any sign of either Spencer or JJ.
Emily’s light landed on one of the dogs, dead—shot. You swung your light the opposite way, finding another dog. Just then Derek took a step back, having found the mattress in which the remains of that poor woman was, or at least all of her blood soaked through the entire fabric of the mattress. You immediately turned away, not being able to look at it. You had a very strong stomach, unusually strong since you worked with the FBI and had seen plenty of inhumane things no human should be capable of, but something about this particular scene was unbearable to look at.
“Damn.” Derek whispered before you all whipped around when you heard someone scream “F.BI.”.
JJ. Her hair was matted, eyes wide, chest heaving. She was shaking, eyes running between the people standing in front of her.
“JJ!” Derek yelled her name as everyone had swiveled around to her, all twisting your aim to JJ. .
“Don't. Move.”
“JJ it’s us–Morgan. Prentiss. Y/L/N. Don’t Shoot, it’s okay” He slowly moved towards her, trying to calm her down, get her to put down her weapon. “Don’t shoot. It’s okay. Are you hurt?”
She lowered her gun, eyes quickly moving from each of you, you could watch as her mind tried to calm down, letting the adrenaline dissipate. You approached her, getting close, trying not to startle her.
“It-Tobias Hankel is the unsub.” She let out, eyes still quickly scanning around her, almost searching for something.
“We know.” Emily exhaled, as she placed a hand gently on JJ’s arm. The sheriff leaned over and informed Derek that they were going to call an ambulance for JJ.
“W-W-We just thought he was a witness…” JJ holstered her gun before watching as Morgan looked around as the dead dogs surrounded all four of you.
“I had to kill them.” Her eyes had glossed over.
“JJ, where’s Reid?” Derek spoke, looking at her expectantly, but eyes filled with worry.
“They just completely tore her apart. There’s nothing even left–”
“JJ. Look at me.” You grabbed her hand, causing her to look up at you. “Look at me. Where’s Reid.”
“We–We split up, he told me he was going to go around back.” JJ started to panic again, realizing he wasn’t with you. You also started to tremble, pulling your hand away slightly, exiting the barn before you could hear another word, gun drawn.
You could hear as Morgan followed you, almost running to the back of the barn. You stopped once you turned the corner, slowly creeping forward, eyes scanning across the corn, but also listening in for potentially any sound coming from behind the barn. You saw some trampled stalks, and turned to look at Derek.
“He followed him into the field Derek.”
Derek saw your thought process, and the conclusion you reached as you reached it, which was a matter of seconds. As you went to dash into the field, following the very faint trail, Derek grabbed your arm and stood his ground, meaning you fought against him, and he struggled a bit, but ultimately won. “If you think for one second I am about to let you go into that field, you’re crazy.”
“Dere–”
“That’s clearly a sign that someone got dragged. He’s not in there.”
You huffed, biting your lip. You were trying so hard not to break in front of Derek, but every second you thought about what Tobias Hankel had been doing to people, meshed with every other second you thought about that happening to Reid, it was a miracle you could still even listen to Derek.
“Go inside with Hotch.”
You nodded slightly, holstering your gun, and running your hands down your face. “You’re not going to leave me alone until you watch me walk away from the cornfield.” You grumbled out, looking up at him.
“Yeah.” He sighed and pulled you into a quick hug. “Look. I don’t know what has actually occurred between you and Boy Genius, but you charging off into a field we know he probably isn’t in, won’t help us find him. I’m going to talk to Prentiss and JJ.”
You nodded and pulled away, running your hands through your hair, quickly walking towards the house as Derek moved towards the ambulance, not fully taking his eyes off of you. He was curious as to what the team didn’t know about you two, but pushed it aside since clearly pestering you about it wasn’t going to help any of you find Reid.
The next morning, You had not slept, and were only slightly avoiding JJ, basically walking laps around the outside of the house, trying to let your brain get some oxygen and calm down. Or, you would be standing around a table with the team, sitting in front of the computers, and your leg would bounce, you would tap your hands against your arm, anything to keep yourself from breaking down.
Obviously the team all picked up on it. It’s not even like they were microexpressions, you were just visibly anxious. All your brain could think about were flashes of Spencer, and whether or not he was still alive, completely unaware of his whereabouts since the lead from last night turned out to be a dead end. Hankel was smart, which made you nervous.
You were currently walking around the living room, wearing a circle into the rug, which was barely holding it together, reading Tobais’s diaries, trying to find anything. You heard JJ welcome in Garcia, and you paused to look up at Garcia with a brief smile on your face before continuing. Once they got her set up, Hotch tilted his head, requesting you come a bit closer so you all could talk.
“So, I’m guessing nothing new since I left.” He started.
“Not but,” Emily started. “The good thing is this guy documented everything second of his life. The bad news is we’re still unpiling.”
“From the looks of it, he hasn't left this place in years.” JJ sighed and stared down at all of the notebooks and papers strewn across the table.
“He knew he could pretend to be looking for a motel and throw us off his trail.” Emily looked up at Hotch, but Gideon interrupted.
“No no no, it’s more than that. Sheriff’s office, 911 calls. Every time he engages the police and gets away with it, he reassures himself. God’s on his side not ours.”
You just walked into the kitchen and lightly dropped the notebook you had been reading onto the table, brushing past Hotch. “I need some air.” You mumbled to him, shoving the rickety screen door open and quickly hustling down the steps.
You ran your hands through your hair, trying to breathe, trying to fight the urge to burst into tears and let yourself just lay on the ground. The only reason you hadn’t done so yet was because the urge to find Spencer was so much stronger.
After a moment, you heard the screen door open and someone come down the steps. “Emily I’m fi–”
“Y/N,”
You looked up and made eye contact with JJ. Her hair was flatter, less knots, but you could still see she had been shaken up. It didn’t matter. You were trying, desperately trying to not blame JJ for Reid’s disappearance, and you knew she was struggling with it too, but the fact that they weren’t together meant that he got dragged off somewhere, technically on her watch.
“JJ now’s no–”
“Please let me—”
“JJ.” You cut her off, arms crossed over your chest. You were only truly able to make eye contact with her for a couple seconds before you had to avert your eyes upwards. “Seriously. I’m fine. Go back inside.”
Your voice was curt, and running along the line of unkindness, but you were restraining yourself, trying to give your coworker, your friend, someone who had become your family, an out in this moment, but she just wouldn’t take it.
“You won't even look at me!” That got your attention back to her. “You haven’t spoken to me since the barn, and you’re avoiding me. I-I know what we did wasn’t…”
You huffed, now only staring at her, challenging her. “I’m listening now, JJ. That’s what you wanted right.”
She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I know you blame me. I blame myself. But I can’t stand you being so distant and I–”
“Look. JJ.” You cut her off again. “I am doing everything in my power not to scream at the top of my lungs how stupid it was, for the both of you to split up.” Your voice was low, and steady—it was unnerving to hear since you had always spoken with such character, such lightness. “But right now, I can’t yell at Spencer. And I really do not want to yell at you. I think it is one of the stupidest decisions either of you could have made. But blaming you for a decision you both made, doesn’t help us find him any sooner. So please. Just leave me alone right now.”
You brushed past her, not making any actual contact with her, since the next person who touched you might actually be the reason you start sobbing. JJ was absolutely shocked, frozen in the yard, trying not to cry herself. You didn’t want JJ to cry, you really didn’t, but she was pushing on something that is usually completely surrounded by walls and locks and gates.
You blinked away your tears and walked back into the house, towards the kitchen. Hotch and EMily looked up at you, both noticing JJ wasn’t next to you, and your face somehow managed to seem more frustrated and anxious than before.
Spencer had bought you a necklace for your one year anniversary. It was a very simple chain, with a small pendant on the front. Inside it was a pressed flower, a small, pressed, red salvia in the center of the clear pendant. You loved flowers, it was very obvious from the way that you always had a small vase of a few fresh flowers in the corner of your desk, or you had a signature pair of floral converse you always wore when you went out. It took Spencer all of three seconds to figure out that you loved flowers, and all of one question later to find out if you knew, and liked, Victorian Flower language; of course you did. When you two had started secretly seeing one another, you had been updating the flowers weekly. It was a part of your regular schedule, so no one questioned it. But suddenly you were becoming deliberate in your mini bouquets, hints of longing (pink camellias), with pops of devotion (heliotrope), or secret adoration (gardenias) sprinkled with I think of you (blue salvia), eventually turning to bouquets of ever-lasting love (baby’s breath) and sunshine in his smile (yellow tulips). Every time you would update the weekly bouquet, the team would comment on how the new bouquet looked so beautiful, the colors brightening up the place. But when Spencer walked through the door, you loved watching his eyes immediately dart for the flowers, decoding the message for only him. The red salvia on your chest was proudly proclaiming forever mine, for Spencer, and no one was the wiser.
When you wore it happily the day after your anniversary, exchanging the previous bouquet for a new one filled with yellow lilies, Spencer cou;d’ve known right then and there that you were over the moon, if you hadn’t already told him, and shown him, the night before. When Derek watched you fiddle with the necklace all day, he had made a joke that clearly you have someone in your life and “Pretty Boy needs to step up his game”, he had misread your slight smirk as a tease on Spencer, and not on himself. It was not a month later that you were fiddling with it in Tobias Hankel’s kitchen, your biggest tell of all, that you were nervous about something. But to most of the profilers in the room, you were nervous and fiddling with your necklace, to Hotch, it was a clear sign that he needed to keep you at a slight distance to make sure your head stays clear. If any of them had been thinking clearly, they might have made the connection from the necklace to Reid, but no one really was.
JJ followed a minute later, and quietly went back to her seat. It was clear she had been crying, or trying not to, but so were you, so it honestly didn’t make you feel as bad as it probably should have.
“Hey guys.” Emily’s voice cut through your thoughts. “I have got a list of Narcotics Anonymous meetings. Someone’s name and number is written on it, but it looks to be about twelve years old.”
“Try it. There are no bad leads.” Gideon answered.
You sighed, but watched curiously as Gideon stared at the wallpaper. He peeled off a section of it, revealing what seemed to be the same phrase over and over and over again.
“Honora Partum Tuum.” He read aloud.
“Honor thy father.” You finally spoke up. For much of the team, it was the first time they had heard your voice in hours.
Gideon looked over at you, realizing in his eyes, nodding.
“Hey guys. I think I got something.” You heard Derek yell, which meant all of you rushed out of the house, running over towards Derek. He had his gun out, pushing hay off of doors to what seemed like a storm cellar.
Derek pulled open one of the doors, shining his light into the darkness. “Tobias Hankel, F.B.I!” Hotch gave him the go ahead to slowly move down the stairs, then allowing Emily to follow. Hotch then gave you a small look, giving you the impression that you would not be allowed down into that cellar until it was cleared. You stood back slightly, not having the energy to have a bout in front of the others, still holding your gun, and scanning the surrounding area, keeping an eye particularly on the barn and the fields behind it.
You heard Derek yell out “Tobias Hankel” a couple of times, making your pulse beat faster–maybe they had found him, maybe he was okay. There was no other sound than Derek though. Maybe he was dead. Maybe someone else had spencer. Maybe—Derek came out of the storm cellar, covering his mouth.
You looked at him expectantly and shook his head. “Tobias’s father…on ice.”
You exhaled, a wave of emotions crashing through your veins that only left you more stressed than before.
Hotch came out of the cellar next, and motioned for you to follow him. You knew this conversation was coming, and the fact that it hadn't happened already surprised you.
Once the two of you were out of earshot, Hotch looked at you, not as a friend, not as someone who helped you through some dark moments in your life, but as your boss. “Can you continue, or do you need to sit the rest of this case out.”
His tone wasn’t harsh, quite the opposite. He watched as someone he cared for was slowly crumbling, closing off her walls to the outside, meaning you were more in your own head, than truly present.
You nodded, sighing. “If I’m not here, then I might go out there on my own. I’m not telling you that you’re babysitting me.” Hotch tried to cut you off, but you barrelled through. “But I need to be here, because if a breakthrough happens, if any of us find a location, I need to be in that car Hotch. If we find Hankel, I have a full understanding that however I react is the fate of my job. I am well aware of that. And I love this team with basically everything I have, so I need you to trust me, the way I am trusting all of you to find him.”
Hotch watched you for a moment before nodding. His features softened and he placed his hand on your arm again. It was the most contact Hotch ever really gave, but it meant so much. “Are you okay?”
You shook your head, managing to keep it together. “No. I’d be more concerned if I was.” You tried to crack a joke, causing both of you to smile before he nodded at you. “I’ll see you in there.”
He left you standing by yourself, giving you a moment to collect yourself, before you followed him back into the house, back into the kitchen, back into the journals.
Spencer being gone for so long meant you had a laundry list of things you missed about him. You missed the way he would ramble on about anything in the world that he knew about. You missed his sweater vests, how they never seemed to match his outfit, but somehow always pulled the look together. You missed his dorky smile at you from across his desk. You missed the notes he would leave you in your apartment when he would get up to get to work, knowing you always had arrived before him at work since you lived closer. You missed the feeling of his hands in yours. The feeling of the hand on your back, on your shoulder.
But right now, you missed how fast that son of a bitch could read. Oh my god. If you had to read through one more of Tobias’ notebooks, you might lose your mind. You placed it facedown on the table and placed your head in your hands, giving your eyes a well deserved break.
After a moment, Derek spoke up. “There’s something weird going on here.” He was slowly pacing around the table.
“You think?” quipped the sheriff from across the room, and you snorted slightly in agreement and amusement.
“No seriously, check this out.” Derek looked up at everyone in the kitchen. “This journal is full of religious ramblings. He notates hour by hour. November 15th, 3:17 – if ye offer a sacrifice of peace offering unto the lord, ye shall offer it of your own will. And it goes on and on. 5:04, 7:41, 10:22, 1:42, but then it goes blank for days.”
You removed your face from your hands, looking over at Derek.
“Maybe he got sick of writing.” The sheriff offered up.
“I think I got it.”
“What is it?” Gideon prodded Hotch, all of you watching him.
“Journal entry, December 6th, Father sick. Wants me to put him down. I say thou shalt not kill, he says honor thy father. Must pray for guidance.” Hotch looked over at Gideon.
“So he kills his father as an act of mercy?”
“This is two months ago. Tobias Hankel’s father had been dead for four months already.” Hotch raised his eyebrows, Gideon and Derek starting to realize what he was getting at.
“That’s exactly it.” Derek moved one of the chairs away from the table. “Look at the floor. These scuff marks are fresh. I mean, it’s like two people were moving the chairs constantly trying to fight for control.”
“So?”
“This journal matches Charles Hankel’s handwriting, but it was written after he died. Upstairs, Tobias’ bedroom—it’s got junk piled from floor to ceiling but the other bedroom could pass a military inspection.” Derek was explaining to the Sheriff, who honestly was starting to get on your nerves with some of these questions.
“So you’re telling me one of Tobias’ personalities was his father?”
“Well, Tobias was raised with a strict religious code. Black and white, right and wrong.” Gideon interrupted. “When his father asked Tobias to kill him, something had to give.”
“His brain couldn’t handle the moral contradiction so it split into two personalities in order to keep his father alive.” Hotch looked over at Derek, a conversation between the two of them happening silently and quickly.
“So who is Raphael?”
“My guess, he’s the mediator between the two.” You spoke up, watching hotch and derek before looking back at the sheriff.
“Angels have no human emotions.” Gideon continued your thoughts. “Live or die, they don’t care. As long as it’s God’s will.”
“We need to start profiling Tobias’ father. He may be the one who chose where to take Reid.” Hotch quickly looked at you before looking at Derek.
Derek nodded and started to head out of the room. “I’ll get Garcia on it”.
“Any luck with the rehab contact?” You looked up as Emily and JJ walked in, hoping they would have some answer for you.
Emily sighed. “Well he has no idea where Hankel might be, but we did learn that he has a serious drug problem. Dilaudid.”
“Well that could explain the psychotic fracture.” Hotch nodded over at Gideon.
“What are you talking about?”
Gideon, who had been staring at the photos all along the mirror that they had taped up, looked over at JJ. “Tobias is living as at least three different people; himself, Raphael, and his father.”
“Well this could be some bad news.”
Honestly, to you, it felt like all the sheriff did was bring more and more bad news.
“A computer store was robbed in the middle of the night. A suburb outside of Atlanta Thief got away with four laptops, external hard drives, and a satellite.”
“If it’s Tobias that puts him right back in business.” Hotch cast a quick glance over at you, watching as you tensed up, knowing the images you were desperately trying to keep out of your head. In response, you stood up and left the room, heading over to Derek and Penelope in the next room.
Penelope was sitting at the desk, typing and typing away. Derek looked up as you entered, giving you a small smile. You shook your head. “They think Tobias stole—” Just as you started, your mouth stopped. The screens in front of Penelope had changed, going blank with one cursor in the corner.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Penelope’s eyes were wide.
Spencer filled up every single screen, except for Penelope's laptop, and the one screen she was directly connected to.
“Oh my god.” You yelled, one hand flying to cover up your mouth, the other immediately grabbing your necklace, eyes flitting from screen to screen. This wasn’t real, it wasn’t happening–it couldn’t be happening.
Spencer was tied to a chair, his clothes disheveled, his hair a mess, he was missing both shoes and one sock. The left side of his head was soaked with blood, hair wet with it.
This was your worst nightmare, and yet you could not look away. You watched as his chest rose and fell, giving you at least the calm that he was alive. But tears still pricked the corners of your eyes, breathing was becoming harder and harder, but you couldn’t shut down. Your body wouldn’t let you.
Your yell had the others almost run into the room you were in, all of them barreling into the room, filling it up with bodies. Once they all looked at you, each one slowly realized what you were staring at.
“He’s been beaten.” Emily so astutely pointed out.
“Can’t you track him.” JJ was also struggling to breathe, guilt consuming her entire body.
“Hankel’s only streaming this to his home computer.” Garcia said solemnly, still doing her best to find something, anything.
Hotch turned to look at your face. At this point, most of the blood had left your face, leaving you pale, and nauseous. He tried to calmly gestured for you to leave, giving you an out, but you stared straight ahead, somehow becoming more pale, more sick, when Gideon pointed it out for you all.
“This is for us. He knows we’re here.”
Derek huffed and turned away for a second, trying not to bash the wall in. “I’m gonna put this guy’s head on a stick.”
“Why can’t you locate him?” You could kiss Hotch for staying so level headed in this moment. Your eyes quickly tore away from the screens, looking at Garcia.
“He’s rerouting to a different I.P. address every thirty seconds. I can’t track him.”
Can you really see inside men’s minds?
All of you quickly found a screen to watch as you heard the voice take over.
See these vermin? Choose one to die.
All you could do was stare at his face–his eyes. You had never seen Spencer so vulnerable, so tired, barely fighting at all. You watched as his eyes scanned across something to his right. All of you held your breath, waiting for Spencer to say something, anything.
You choose one to live.
“Oh my god.” You mumbled again as Spencer shook his head slightly, defying Tobias, or whoever’s wishes.
I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior.
“You’re a sadist in a psychotic break. You won’t stop killing. Your words aren’t true.”
The other heathens are watching. Choose a sinner to die, and I’ll say the name and address of the person to be saved.
“I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.” Spencer was staring into his eyes, challenging him. But Tobias, or Charles, picked him up by the collar, both hands, and brought his face really close to Spencer's.
Can you really see inside my mind boy. Can you see I'm not a liar. He chucked Spencer back into the chair, causing Spencer to flinch from another bruise you probably couldn't see. Choose one to die, and save a life. Otherwise they’re all dead.
“All right. I’ll choose who lives.” You inhaled sharply, Derek tensing up next to you.
They’re all the same.
You all waited, in silence, as Spencer scanned what you assumed were the laptops that had been stolen. His eyes flickered to the camcorder, shame in voice, looking back at Tobias or Charles. “Far right screen.”
Marilyn David, 4913 Walnut Creek Road
“You got that?”
“Marilyn David. My name is Jason Gideon with the F.B.I. I need you to close your laptop screen right now. Someone has been connecting into your laptop’s camera and watching you. For your safety, you need to close it.
“Raphael.”
The computer screens went black.
“Garcia, get him back.”
Derek turned away, slamming the door against the wall as he stalked out of the room, beyond pissed.
“Garcia, get him back.” You repeated, absolute horror dawning on all of your faces. Your eyes were frantically running over every screen every ten seconds, hoping that maybe one of them would still hold the image of Spencer.
“I’m t-trying.” She whispered, furiously typing away, trying to hack into something, or find Hankel, anything really.
“So now what. Wait for a 911 call?” The sheriff's voice rang out in your ear, and it grated against you. “And hope we get there in time.”
Once you had gotten the 911 call, you, JJ, Emily, and Derek were told to stay at the house with Garcia. You heard Derek and JJ in one of the other rooms, but you were just standing next to Garcia’s chair, not moving an inch. All you could do was stare at the screens, eyes flitting from face to face on unexpecting potential victims.
JJ walked in, looking more like she had in the barn–disheveled, guilty. “Any more signs of Reid.”
Both you and Garcia shook your heads.
“He just posted the last murder online.” Garcia’s voice was grave, eyes dark. “It had over 17,000 hits in the first twenty minutes.”
“I want to see it.”
“No you don’t.” You answered JJ, not turning to look at her.
“Don’t tell me what I want and don’t want.”
You tore your eyes away from the screens and over at JJ.
“If I can’t watch this…I have no business being in the field.”
“J-ge, it’s not a competition.” Garcia whispered.
“I-I need to see it.”
You shook your head and walked out of the room, not being able to watch it again. You walked into the kitchen where Derek and Emily were, discussing something. Derek’s eyes quickly flicked over to you, surprised slightly by the fact that you had left the screens.
“We can trace their whole family history. Here we got happy smiling pictures of Tobias. Report cards all A’s and B’s. But at eight years old, we got nothing.”
“That’s his mother leaving.” Emily shot you a quick, yet sympathetic smile, before looking back at the mirror. “Six months later, on the other side of the board, we have a form from child services saying they paid a visit.”
“Then Charles starts keeping journals about punishing sinners and needing to remove the devil from his son.” Derek continued.
“Which corresponds to Tobias’ drug use. He’s trying to escape.” You watched as Emily and Derek worked through the profile again.
“So wherever Reid is, It was Tobias’ choice, not his fathers.” Derek sighed and scanned over the pictures, trying to find maybe a common location amongst them.
“How’d you figure?”
“Look at these two lives. They’re like inverse graphs. One’s getting weaker while the other ones getting angrier. Tobias would run away while his father would have stood and fought.” Derek looked back at Emily.
She nodded. “Okay so Tobias uses drugs as an escape. I’ll go back through the journals and see if I can find anything connecting his drug use to a hiding place
“Uh where’s Gideon.” You finally spoke up.
“He’s upstairs. Why? What’s going on?”
“Hankel just posted the latest murder.” JJ walked out of the room that you had just been in.
You watched as she quickly called out to Gideon that the newest murder had been uploaded, and as he quickly made his way into the adjoining room. You heard him panicking, trying to come up with a solution to get people to stop watching the videos.
You were fiddling with your necklace, mind lost on the day before all of this started. It had been sunny in DC. Something you didn’t get all the time, especially when you were only there half of the year. You had gone over to Spencer's apartment, picking up your favorite take out on the way over. He had been teaching you how to play chess. You already knew the basics of chess, which pieces moved where, and how to analyze a board on a move to move basis, but Spencer started to teach you strategies. He would explain every single move he was making, and how he was able to predict a check in three. It was adorable. In return, for every game you would learn together, Spencer would watch a movie with you. He would watch movies if you had asked him in the first place, but this time, you gave him what he thought was the most enthralling commentary the entire time. You would put on your favorite movies and ramble on and on about a certain actor getting sick during this shot, or the fact that the two romantic leads hated one another, or even someone breaking their toe during one scene—he adored listening to you ramble, in the same way you loved listening to him. That night was movie night. You had picked cult-classic “Rocky Horror Picture Show.” you were absolutely enthralled to explain to Spencer the interactive portions of the movies, the screaming at the screen, the details of the pink triangle on Dr. Franknfurter’s smock, the repetition of certain musical themes. You two hands ended up tangled on the couch, giggling about something, drunk on each other’s company—it was perfect.
But the sound of Spencer’s sob ripped through your thoughts. It took you three strides to be back with Garcia and Gideon, watching as Tobias slammed his fist across Spencer’s face. Your hands moved to your mouth as your eyes watered.
You heard as he begged Tobias to help him, bruises flowering across his face, a cut across his lip breaking the once smooth skin.
He can’t help you. He’s weak. Confess. Confess your sins.
You watched as Spencer’s chair was chucked to the ground, while he was still tied to it. Every single atom of air had left your lungs. You could feel the pit of your stomach drop, unable to move, unable to blink. Tears welled up in your eyes as the love of your life was being beaten to death, and you couldn't do anything about it.
Several studies have shown that plants can feel pain. Whether or not they are completely and one hundred percent credible is something you and Spencer have jokingly argued about multiple times. You liked to think that they didn’t considering you managed to bring in a fresh crop of newly cut flowers each week. But these scientists claim that plants can feel pain. They can feel the pain of being cut from the vine or stem, and they can feel themselves dying as you watch them wilt in the vase. You and JJ were quite similar in feeling like you had to prove something to yourself, that if you couldn’t handle what was happening, maybe you shouldn’t be in the field, shouldn’t be in the BAU.
Watching Spencer have a seizure on the ground, unable to run to him, unable to save him, unable to do anything but just watch in horror, made you feel every single ounce of pain you could have ever imagined. When his body stilled, and Tobias exited whatever building they were in, you were still standing there, completely and utterly in shock. Hotch took your arm and wordlessly tugged on your arm, but you couldn’t move. Your feet were cemented to the floor. Even if you wanted to run the other way, you couldn’t. Hotch tried again, but you just stared at the screen, constantly flipping the necklace over and over and over and over again. If you moved, you might start sobbing, you might collapse, you might have just died on the spot.
Spencer's lips were still. His lips would ramble when he had something he found quite interesting to speak about, they would fidget when he got nervous, they would form quirky expressions when he had a moment of realization. But not once have they ever been this still. And it was dissolving your heart. Moment by moment another small section would boil down to dust, not even letting you have the chance to have your heart ripped out, because that would mean your heart would still be together, still be beating, just not with you anymore. Your heart was dying because Spencer was dead.
The first stage of grief is denial. All you could do was hope, pray, anything that this was some sick and twisted joke, that Spencer was okay. That Spencer was alive. That you weren’t staring at Spencer’s body on the screen, not knowing where he was, and if you would ever find him, or his body.
Lucky for every single person in that room, and lucky for Tobias Hankel, you watched as he burst back through the door, dropped down to his knees, and tried to resuscitate Spencer. Your eyes widened as you watched every single chest compression, every single moment of mouth to mouth. After the longest thirty seconds of your life, Spencer convulsed, air filling his lungs, coughing.
“Oh my god.” You almost threw up into the hands that were covering your mouth because you were so grateful for the fact that Spencer was breathing, that his dead body was somewhere you might never have found it.
“Wait. Wait a second.” Emily leaned over to Garcia. “When was the video of the last murder poster?”
“9:23.”
“And what was the time of death?”
“The 911 call came in at 9:04, and the murders must have been moments later.”
“That's only a 19 minute difference.” You spoke up, figuring out what Emily was getting at.
“How long would it take to post the mpeg.” Derek chimed in.
“2, 3 minutes.” Garcia looked over at you all.
“Lets call it 2. You figure a maximum of sixty miles per hour in a residential area, that means Hankel has to be within a seventeen mile radius of the crime scene.” Derek reasoned, looking over at Hotch.
“Garcia, can we see it on a map?” Hotch leaned over Garcia.
“Call Farraday. I want that area locked down like it’s martial law.” Gideon turned to Derek, ready to give more instructions but you interrupted.
“Guys.”
You came back to life.
Spencer was looking up at Rapheal now. The complete shift in tone from Charles to Raphael to Tobias always made your hair stand on edge, but you could hear the anger that Raphael held.
There can only be one of two reasons.
“I was given CPR.” Even after he was just given his life back, he still managed to crack a joke.
There are no accidents. How many members are on your team?
“Seven”
You paused, ready to speak up, but Tobias beat you to it.
The seven angels who had the seven trumpets who prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and fire, mixed with blood and they were thrown to the earth.
“He thinks it’s revelations. The seven archangels versus the seven angels of death.” Hotch explained.
“Hotch there are eight of us on this team.” You spoke, this time garnering the attention of everyone in the room. “He’s lying to Hankel, that's considered a sin right? If Hankel finds out—”
You were interrupted by the sound of a chair hitting the ground. Hankel had yanked Spencer’s chair upright, watching as he was jostled around.
Tell me who you serve.
“I serve you”
Then choose one to die
“What”
Your team members choose one to die.
“Kill me”
You inhaled sharply causing one of Derek's hands to find the small of your back. You had already watched him die once, but you can’t give CPR to a bullet through the brain.
You said you weren't one of them
“I lied”
Your team has six other members. Tell me who dies.
“No”
All of you watch as Tobias pulls one bullet out of his pocket, and clicks open the revolver. He placed it in, and spun the barrel, letting it close with a click. Spencer playing Russian roulette was not on your bucket list of things to do this year. Maybe force him to go kayaking with you, let him teach you some other game like Go, maybe even take a few days off for a real vacation and work each other up so desperately. But you could guarantee, this was not on that list.
Each time Spencer refused, and you heard the empty barrel fire, your heart gave out, again.
Choose, and prove you’ll do god's will.
“No.”
Click.
And again.
Choose.
“I won’t do it”.
Click.
And again.
Life is a choice.
“No.”
Click.
And again.
Choose.
Spencer’s pause made everyone hold their breaths. He had a 33.33% chance of getting shot, and luck had to run out, it always did.
“I-I choose…” You all waited, no one truly knowing what he could possibly be thinking. “Y/N Y/L/N.” Derek's hand on your back tensed up, all eyes looked at you, and all you could do was stare at Spencer on the screen. He wouldn’t just hand out your death sentence like that, he wouldn’t do that to you. Right? Right?
“Adulterer, cheating on my for months now. Puts their own needs above others and their feelings.” Your brows furrowed, hand immediately at the necklace you were wearing around your neck. This accusation confused the absolute shit out of you, since you had revealed to Spencer your history with a previous partner who had chea–oh. He was speaking to you.
“Oh my god.” You whispered.
“I would come home to bouquets of crimson roses and rosemary, or there would be begonias and clematis. I've only ever bought red salvias with baby’s breath—their favorite.” Spencer chuckled, putting on an act for Tobias.
“Pen! I need a pen.” You yelled, everyone now concerned you had lost your mind, but Garcia had quickly handed you hers as you tried to write down the flowers Spencer had listed off. Once you had all of them written down, you quickly ran out of the room.
“Genesis 23:4, For the lips of an immoral woman are as sweet as honey, and her mouth is smoother than oil. But in the end she is as bitter as poison, as dangerous as a double-edged sword.”
You only paused for a moment when you heard a gunshot, but you kept going, hoping and praying that you were right. You had found one of the empty pages of Tobais’ journals and wrote down the flowers:
crimson roses - mourning
rosemary - remembrance
clematis - poverty
begonias - beware, watch out
You looked at the list of the flowers, over and over. “Mourning…” You mumbled, when it hit you. Quickly, you grabbed the bible on the table, flipping to find Genesis 23:4.
Morgan walked into the room, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Look I don't know about this potential relationship that you and Spenc-"
“I’m not a cheater.” You cast him a quick look, still flipping to find the page.
Derek started. “He’s not in his right mind Y/n.”
Gideon quickly followed. “Come on, look you can’t think anything of that..”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Well, yes, it is, but that’s not–”
Hotch cut you off. “He’s panickin—”
“Everyone. Stop.” They all obliged, watching as you picked up the notebook you had been writing in. “What is my worst quality?”
They all just stared at you.
“Okay I’ll start, I can be a total bitch.”
“You miss a concerning amount of briefings.”
“You can get overly emotional sometimes.”
“You’re extremely stubborn.”
“You don’t trust anyone easily.”
“Okay good, I’m all these things, but none of you said that I would ever put my needs over anyone. Especially over other’s feelings. Reid and I had a conversation about two weeks ago about my ex who would repeatedly cheat on me, among other things.” You took a little breath before continuing. “And he knew I would obviously remember a conversation like that. He also knows I love Victorian Flower Language, it’s one of my favorite interests. Some of the flowers he listed off, correspond to flowers you send in mourning, when someone has died, not the flowers you send someone to admit their love or hide it.”
You handed the bible to JJ. “And he also quoted Genesis Chapter 23, verse 4, Read it.”
JJ read out: “I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you, that I might bury my dead out of sight.”
“Spencer would never get it wrong unless it was on purpose. He’s in a cemetery.”
“I don’t see a cemetery” Garcia had pulled up the 17-mile radius again, looking between you and Hotch.
“Call up the first time we saw Reid.” Gideon was rubbing his hands together, trying to remember something.
“I won't choose who gets slaughtered, and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.”
Spencer had looked right at the camera, fucking brilliant man. He had been trying to contact you all since the first time he was on camera.
“Check to see if there are any reports of poaching in the last couple of days.” Hotch nodded at Gideon while Garcia speedily typed out her parameters, getting a response almost instantly.
“Okay uh, a farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property.”
“Where are we talking?” Derek was behind you, watching as Garcia zoomed into a five mile radius around the farmer’s land.
“It would be someone that was old, dilapidated, run down. Clematis is a sign of poverty.”
JJ pointed to a small section on the screen. “What’s that patch of green there”
“Marshall parish, I think it's an old plantation.”
“Wait.” Emily quickly flipped through a journal, trying to find what she had remembered. “Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from Marshall.”
“Guys. There's a cemetery on the grounds.”
“Alright.” Hotch nodded at all of you. “Let's go.”
As you all headed out, Hotch stopped you, pulling you past the kitchen and into the living room. Derek shot you a sympathetic smile as he and the rest of the team exited the building. The living room would be far enough away from Penelope's prying ears, but it’s not like it mattered anymore—it was pretty obvious you and Spencer were sleeping together, if not dating.
“You’re not going.”
You scoffed at Hotch, expecting nothing less, but still willing to fight him about it.
“I’m serious Y/N. I need everyone out there to be as level headed as possible, and you and I both know that the second Spencer put his life on the line, second time round, you were about to raise hell and earth to get to him. If you can promise me, right here, right now, that your head is completely clear, then I will let you go with us, no questions asked.”
You pinched your eyes, letting out a hefty sigh. “Hotch I cannot be here in case he needs me.”
“If he gets hurt, you will not be able to function as an agent, and that is a risk I am not willing to take.”
Hotch is right. He almost always is.
The porch door swung open with the loudest screech yet, Derek appearing in his bullet proof vest, holding Hotch’s in his hand. “We’re heading out.”
Hotch nodded at you, a brief hand on your arm, before walking to the door.
“Hotch?”
He looked over at you.
“The last flower? Begonias?” He nodded at you, not sure where you were going with this.
“If you were sent begonias…it was a subtle warning that you were in danger. Please, be careful.”
“We will.”
And with that, the door slammed shut, and suddenly you were stuck in a ranch house, wondering whether or not Spencer was okay, and whether or not your team would even make it on time. You clutched at the necklace, twirling the pendant, watching as the headlights faded into the darkness, with the very real possibility, someone might not come back.
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