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abyssal-ali · 8 months

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you knew the hero died, so what's the movie for?

Pairing: Gen Ao3 Masterlist

Rating: E for Extra Bad Mental Health WC: 2.2k

Summary:

Babs finds some footage of Jason acting strangely and calls in the Bats to help her figure out what's up with Jason.

TW: Suicidal Ideation/Passive Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Depression, Major Character Death/Major Character Undeath

A/N: (Yes, I'm fine<3) Title from hoax by TS. I love the Immortal Jason Todd theories but I also think he'd have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about death and life after the first time. (Also don't worry, there is a happy ending.)

Barbara Gordon spun on her chair’s wheels to face the Bats. The whole clan, minus one, were admitted to her domain after her special request.

“Why could you not send us the footage?” asked Batman, his voice not so raspy with the modifier turned off.

“It’s safer here. This is extremely delicate information here, and I cannot have it fall into the wrong hands somehow.”

The Bats exchanged glances at Oracle saying she didn’t want to risk this being hacked. Her finger hovered over the play button on her large screen.

“I hacked Hood’s helmet just after he ducked out of patrol to tell him I’d received info I thought he might want to know for a case he’s on. He was speaking, but it didn’t seem like a call or voice-to-text, and the security cam from the alley he was in doesn’t show anyone or anything. The context is weird and the whole situation is…disturbing.”

Babs finally played the CCTV footage after her explanation, showing a typical Gotham alleyway, Red Hood’s large shape the only figure visible as he walked normally into it from around the corner.

His steps stutter, then his whole being seems to lose tension as he walks further in, his shoulders curling inwards slightly. “Now?”

A pause, then, “What is it this time? I haven’t decided what I wanted to cross off my list this time.”

He leans against the wall, one foot propped on the rough brick casually as he tosses a knife through the air, always catching it by the handle. After a couple seconds of seeming silence, he turns abruptly, his posture tensing. “I just want quiet, is that too much to ask?!”

He calms, then continues, “I don’t hate you, D. It’s your sister. She always interrupts and it’s gotten really old. You…can either stop flirting with me or do somethin’ ‘bout Elle. She keeps bringin’ me back down…”

He sheathes his knife and shifts into an offensive stance. “I was at peace, D! I’m just…so…tired…” His voice trails off, revealing the weakness his family has never picked up in him.

After a moment, he relaxes back into his slump against the wall. “We’re running outta options. Explosions, blunt force trauma, asphyxiation, suffocation, smoke inhalation, drowning, exsanguination, jugular sliced, cardiac arrest, hypothermia, electrocution…” He ticks off his fingers. “I’m immune to most poisons and toxins, so they’re out, medication burns through me too quickly…” Another pause.

“I can’t just run off with you, D. They’re detectives, and any explanation they’ll believe is falsified, and they’ll pointlessly search space and time. I’m not gonna spark PTSD and make them sad. Oh! We haven’t tried decapitation yet, we could recreate Dickens’ scene…or there’s my personal favourite, you kidnap me in my sleep. Sounds peaceful….NOT THAT I WOULD KNOW ABOUT PEACE!”

The watching Bats flinched at the sudden outburst from the dejected Hood they were wrapping their minds around.

On the screen, he waves at air, then turns on his heel and stalks out of the alley, heading somewhere else.

Babs’ trackers showed everyone in the Clocktower, and one red dot at a known safehouse of Jason’s a few blocks from the alley.

Babs turned to the Bats.

“Hmm,” Batman mused.

“Ambiguous,” decided Nightwing. “You didn’t pick up any interference, magical or alien?”

“No. Everything is clear,” replied Babs, spinning back to her computer to run more scans on the footage.

“I hate one-sided conversations,” said Spoiler, staring thoughtfully at the frozen image of Red Hood walking out of the alley.

“Who’s this ‘D’ he’s talking to?” demanded Red Robin. “He usually only calls Dick ‘D’, and even then it’s rare. And Dick doesn’t know about this.”

Batgirl got the others’ attention. “Jason is hurt. Always. Not from fighting.” She thought for a moment. “Heart-hurt. Always tired. This is…tired, but relieved.”

“Hmm,” said Batman again.

Two days later, Nightwing and Red Robin knocked on Jason’s door. He’d managed to instill the basic modicum of manners in them with careful traps, a fair amount of glitter, and occasionally a minor wound or two. When he didn’t answer after two tries, and Babs reassured them through their comm link that his tracker was still pinging from that location, they let themselves in.

The first thing they found was Jason, dead in his bed.

In shock, confusion, and grief, the Bats were notified, confirmed it was truly Jason and not some elaborate scheme to fake his death for some Jason-only-knew reason, and taken back to the Cave to prepare him for burial. Again.

To their great surprise, Talia al Ghul marched into the Cave and swept past all their baffled questionings to the table Jason lay on, more peaceful in death than they’d ever seen in life.

She carefully scrutinized him, then sighed and put her hand on his.

“Don’t touch him,” Bruce snapped, looking worse than he had in years.

Talia removed her hand after a slight hesitation, turning to face the grieving Bats. “Before you bury Jason, please wait one more day.”

“Why?”

“You do remember what happened last time you buried him,” she reminded them flatly.

With a grunt, Bruce agreed to wait 18 more hours, looking over at his son’s body every few moments from the tea Alfred was forcing him to drink.

The Bats were quietly mourning their brother, son, grandson, friend, tormentor, coworker, rival, saviour when a loud stream of swearing shocked them out of their grief.

“NOT AGAIN?! WHY?! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!” Yelled one very alive Jason Todd, sitting straight up and looking as pale as a ghoul.

He slipped off the table, stumbling towards the group in zombie-like motions, collapsing into Talia’s waiting arms. “Tals? Why’re ya’here?”

“To stop your idiotic, grieving, well-meaning family from hastily burying you again.”

“Oh, thanks.”

The still-stunned bats slowly gathered around the hugging duo. Talia dragged Jason over to the cot in the medbay and forcing him onto his side. “Stay still until you’re better. You should know better, habibi.”

“But my mom was here, I had to hug her,” he grinned crookedly up at Talia, who was unimpressed.

Still, she smiled softly at him, running her fingers through his hair. “Just lie still. 15 minutes on every side.”

“This ain’t my first rodeo, Tals,” he grunted, but stay where she left him.

Tim opened his mouth and Talia turned her fierce glare on him. With one motion, she directed them all away from Jason to the debriefing area, where he was still within sightline, but wouldn’t be disturbed by their sure-to-be-invasive questions.

“How did he die?” she asked them, looking sternly at Bruce.

“I don’t know.” He collapsed into a seat, staring at Jason blankly. “Oracle showed us a concerning video she found with Hood, we went to his safehouse…and found him…peaceful, in his bed. A little smile on his face,” he choked out.

Talia sighed, glancing back at Jason.

“Why are you here?”

“Mother’s intuition,” she shrugged. “Something was very wrong with him. I was worried, so I came.”

“T, I can deal with them,” called Jason. “I’m a big boy, I can handle their need for privacy invasion.”

Talia sighed but relaxed from her gatekeeping stance, letting the Bats crowd Jason’s bed again.

“How dare you alive again? You were definitely dead,” blurted Tim.

“Life and I have a mutual hate for each other,” said Jason cryptically. “And Death and I are kinda close.”

“How did you die?” asked Dick, quietly horrified.

“Oh, D was really accommodating–I was asleep this ti-”

“‘D’ is Death?!”

“Yeah, I call Death ‘D’, so what? You all have nicknames. And like I said, this ain’t my first rodeo, We’re tight, she likes me.”

“Ethopia…” remembered the Bats awkwardly.

“Why are you lying down?” asked Steph as Jason shifted to his front, turning his head to watch his family.

“I can’t lie on my back for longer than a few second because of PTSD. And my heart hasn’t been pumping for…awhile, so blood flow ain’t the best right now.

“First, there’s numbness, like when your leg’s fallen asleep, only full-body.

“Then, prickles of pain as all your muscles and circulatory system start up.

“Third, your brain’s fuzzy from lack of oxygen and bloodflow, so you spill your deepest darkest secrets to your needlessly nosy family because some twisted part of you feels guilty for putting them through your death again. That last part might just be me, though.

“Fourth, I’m tired and I want to sleep, so ask T or wait for me to wake up. Trust me, I will,” he grumbled. “Oh, you may wanna shock me a li’l bit to make sure my heart’s started properly again. Sometimes it needs a bit of a tune-up to make sure it’s good as new.”

“Why do you sound like this happens regularly?!” Dick demanded.

“It does.” Jason closed his eyes, turning his head to the other side.

Talia shooed the murmuring Bats back to let Jason rest in peace (consciously).

A couple hours later, Jason sat up again, with more colour to his skin and smoother movements. Talia carefully supported him, leading him to a chair and mug of steaming hot chocolate.

The disturbed bats gathered around him until he looked up with a grimace at them. “I’m fine, okay? Why are you even so worried?”

“No, you’re not fine! You were dead, again, and now you aren’t, and you’re acting like this happens every week!”

Jason shrugged. “Done it enough it feels like it. Don’t worry, I get better quicker the more often it happens; you’ve never noticed."

“You died the first time in Ethiopia?”

Jason nodded.

“And it took…six months for you to come back? This was…24 hours or less. So how often have you died, and what’s the exponential rate?” demanded Tim.

Jason shrugged again. “Dunno. Based on past times…” he trailed off, looking to Talia.

“With this one, it should be about twenty hours until his resurrection the next time.”

“Why were you even looking for me?”

“I hacked your comms when you were, apparently, talking to Death, and I brought the CCTV footage from that alley to their attention,” reasoned Babs, pulling his free hand into hers and squeezing it gently. “Why would you not tell us about this? We were worried sick about you after we saw that! And then you disabled your tracker, and it took me ages to find your last ping and find your new safehouse!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled into his mug.

“So you were actually talking to Death? Who is…apparently a person…being?” asked Steph.

“Yep, she’s cool. I’m her favourite repeat customer,” he joked. It fell flatter than one of Bruce’s pancakes.

“You sounded happy to see D,” said Cass, watching him closely.

“Yeah, she’s a lot nicer than her bitch of a sister, Life. She keeps bringing me back,” Jason bemoaned under his breath.

“You don’t want to come back?” Dick asked sadly, inching closer.

“Not really. It’s peaceful being dead. Being alive is so…tiring,” he sighed, leaning his head back and gently placing his mug down.

“Habibi,” Talia said thickly, running her fingers through his hair again.

“But…but you talked down that jumper last week!” pointed out Tim.

“So?”

Cass rewound the footage Babs had played them, playing a section back for the others on the Batcomputer. “I’m not gonna spark PTSD and make them sad.”

“‘Sad’ is…a wrecked car. Replaceable. ‘Grief’ is you dead. We cannot replace you. We are not sad for you. We grieve for you.”

At Cass’s revelation, the Bats’ heads swiveled between Jason and the screen.

“Little Wing…do you think we would grieve you less than the first time?”

Jason didn’t answer, picking up his mug to see if there were any dregs left.

Talia laid her hand on his shoulder. “Why are you still the Red Hood, habibi? No one is forcing you to. You became the Red Hood to antagonize Batman*. You’ve done that, moved past it. Move on, don’t just give up.”

A strange look crossed Jason’s face at Talia’s face. His eyes darted to a harrowed-looking Bruce, then back to the depths of his mug. “Thanks, T.”

Red Hood retired, Jason choosing to hand the reins of his crime bossing business over to his trusted lieutenants as he moved to Europe, entering Oxford to pursue a secondary education.

One or another of his family members were more often than not flying to and from his flat to remind him how much they loved and valued him.

Talia visited him often, making sure that he knew just how much the other side of his chosen family also cared for him. She introduced him to a therapist that was accustomed to dealing with clients with more confidential matters than usual.

Gradually, Jason healed and discovered his personality aside from ‘anti-hero crime-boss vigilante’. He pursued therapy as a career, becoming a therapist and mentor to the Justice League and its associates, specifically the sidekicks and teen heroes.

The twenty-hour resurrection rule wasn’t needed for several more decades.

*****

A/N2:

*Yes, I'm aware he also wanted to change Gotham in a way that Batman couldn't/wouldn't etc, but I couldn't get into the nuances there.

Jason has canonically died several times, including the time Bruce stopped his heart (don't ask me for canon references, I don't touch those things with a 10-foot pole) but as I was editing this fic, I decided to go the good/semi-decent dad Bruce route instead; Jason's hurt enough, so you'll only find one small easter egg about that. I also left out the line about the slit throat from the Batarang Bruce threw in UtRH, which I am firmly convinced hurt Jason more than was shown in canon.

I got the inspiration for Jason dealing with post-mortem/post-resurrection stiffness etc from a fic but I can't remember which one. Possibly Who I Am. Who I'll Never Be by Zootopon?? If you find one, feel free to lmk.

Jason is depressed and isn't very objective about the Batfam, and even though they're on fairly good terms in this fic, they're still emotionally consitpated Bats and Jason's a good actor; they're not thinking to reassure him they love him and want him, and he's sure not gonna outright ask for reassurance. As someone with depression (not speaking for everyone, just drawing on my own experience), it really makes you feel like even those you love most and who love you most don't actually. It's hard to ask for confirmation of their love, and especially with dynamics like the Batfam/Jason have, that complicates matters further. If you're reading this and you don't somehow have Issues, learn from this and face your feelings.

#jason todd #ali writes #immortal jason todd #fic #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: death #tw: depression

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mutable-manifestation · 2 years

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The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 21

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Part 21!

So this kinda got long. I wouldn't be able to fit the explanation part without posting off of my ao3 schedule. Also the chapter would be, like, way longer than the ~2K I've been aiming for.

So! Here's this, and I'm gonna try to post the explanation-scene as a separate chapter on Thursday or Friday. (It'll probably be big on its own anyway).

Info: Self-concept upon death hugely impacts ghost form, and Sam & Tucker expected white hair bc of Danny. So by the time Jazz became a ghost (read: Died) it was just an expectation that white hair and green eyes would be a part of that.

(Danny's own palette swap is an effect of his beliefs about what happens when things burn [white to black] and bleach in heat [black to white - like the flag on the moon]. White hair being associated with stress/death, green eyes because green was all he could see, etc. Just a lot of jumbled, morbid, last-minute thoughts while he was dying combined with pre-existing, subconscious beliefs about life and death.)

Jason's form is his exact form from when he died - minus all the injuries and plus the full-white eyes (not just normal eyes behind a domino mask - I know that varies by version for some robins. This is full-whites. They do still turn green when he's angry tho)

***

Jason only realized he’d been tricked after they finally called it a draw.

For all a snowball fight barely counted as a fight, he certainly felt calmer after getting some of his energy out.

He’d been so distracted enjoying himself he hadn’t even thought of using the chaos to bolt - not that he would have anyway, given he still didn’t know where to find a portal home.

The girl flits in front of him just in time for him to catch his breath.

“Nice to meet you,” She holds out a hand, grin as exuberant as it had been throughout the game - minus the feral tinge of competitiveness.

“I’m Danielle,” she offered as he shook the proffered hand. “But call me Elle - or Dani with an i if you want to mess with someone.”

The mischief on her face at the suggestion made him think she’d done so before.

She almost certainly already knew his name, but not telling her himself would be rude - a death sentence if they really were fae. Still, that she hadn’t prompted him should make it safer. Maybe.

(If the initial kidnapping was permitted by Danny hearing his name then he certainly didn’t hear a prompt from him, but who knows if inaudible whispers count. At least he can see that Danielle’s mouth hasn’t moved)

(Not like he isn’t already kidnapped anyway. What’ll they do, double kidnap him?)

“Jason,” he says as he disengages from the handshake, smiling genuinely despite himself.

(And he meant to smile, he did - he’d read enough stories to know how important being polite to the fae is; one wrong word and you’re 15 ribs shy of a full skeleton. Or a brother shy of a full family. It was half the reason he’d spoken as little as he had - but he hadn’t meant for it to be real)

“I’m sure Danny told you aaaaaall about me already, and yes, I really am that cool.”

Danielle - Elle - breaks Jason out his mental spiral. He just manages to smother his laugh with a cough.

“Ah, the tour actually got kind of off track, so I hadn’t had a chance to mention you yet.”

Elle gasps dramatically, putting both hands over her heart and flopping to the ground at Danny’s proclamation.

“Oh, I am wounded! I am shattered! I am abandoned and unloved!-” Danny laughs “-I am filing a formal complaint! I am requisitioning forms to have my darling emotional support Panther, Palu, moved to the Palace-”

“You- Emotio-WHAT!?” Danny reels back, expression horrified.

Elle floats up to sit a foot off the ground, arms and legs both crossed. She glares at him for about 5 seconds before sticking out her tongue and grinning.

“I’m kidding, you big chicken.”

“She ate my cape made with Actual Stars, Elle.”

Elle laughs at Danny’s clear relief and the following pout. Jason himself fails to suppress a snort.

“Well,” Danny huffs, turning to Wulf. “While these two are busy laughing at my expense, I wanted your opinion on something.”

He gestures to a more distant tree with his eyes, and Wulf follows as he floats away - probably aiming for out of earshot.

Elle abandons her laughter to float upright just in front of him - the floating equivalent of standing, he supposes.

“Anyway, like I said, I’m Elle. Long story short Danny’s ex-arch-nemesis who shall not be named wanted to adopt Danny and handled the ‘no’ really poorly and tried to clone him. I was the only surviving clone, and after trying to kill Danny on said manipulative ex-nemesis’ orders he managed to change my mind about said nemesis, helped stabilize me, and eventually ended up adopting me.” She said, in the most nonchalant manner possible, which, wow, the story really did not call for.

Jason desperately wants to know the long version.

“Sooo…” she drawls, smile gaining a teasing edge, “I guess you can actually just call me big sis.”

She laughs at his suddenly blank expression.

“No? How about ‘best big sister ever?’ Oh! Oh! Or ‘Coolest big sister in the Realms?’ Get it? Cuz ice powers.”

She flits around him as she speaks, wiggling her fingers and loosing a few flakes of snow at the last bit for emphasis, giggling.

Jason isn’t sure how to respond without insulting her somehow.

To any of that, really.

“Never expected to have a baby brother,” she muses, “but then with how readily he adopted me despite my origins I guess it isn’t all that surprising. Especially with you being a halfa and all. We’re really rare, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Or maybe not - you are only like a week old, technically.”

“I’m 22,” he corrects, unbelievingly.

She snorts.

“In human years, maybe.”

And hey. Wow. Jason is not a fan of that.

(Yes, he’s glowing. Yes, he’s visibly de-aged 7 years. No, he has not accepted any of the potential implications that has regarding his human-ness.)

Jason has roughly 100 more questions after her little info-dump than he did before.

Before he can debate risking those rib bones, what can only be one of the infamous ‘eyeballs’ shows up.

It sure is an eyeball, just one giant eye takes up most of its head, but for the thin green outline that connects to the rest of its body - only seen by the matching green of its hands, which themselves bear off-puttingly long claws.

It is also wearing quite possibly the most pretentious robes he has ever laid eyes on.

This coming from someone who grew up watching Brucie Wayne play air headed, carefree rich boy like it was his true calling - the man had a designer collection of dramatic robes to greet unexpected late-evening guests with.

“Phantom.”

“Greg.”

“That is not my name.”

By the terse greetings and short follow-up, this was a common exchange.

The eyeball - Greg, why not - turned its eye on Jason just then.

For all its size, the eye moved just as fast as a normal one. The motion was wrong in some indefinable way; grotesque to see. He did his best not to react, cautious of setting the being off; this one seemed more volatile than those he’d met thus far.

Despite the lack of a facial expression, Jason couldn’t help but feel like he was being sneered at.

Thankfully its attention on him was brief, turning back to address Elle after only a beat.

“If you are quite finished shirking your duties to play in the snow, the Valhallan representative is waiting to speak with you.”

“What??? He isn’t supposed to be here for another hour,” Elle questioned, brown pinched.

“It has been an hour, Phantom.”

He floats to her side to point towards the palace.

“If you would be so kind, I would like to get this over with.”

“Uuuuuuugh,” Elle groans, drifting slowly in that direction despite the apparent distaste, “Can’t you just watch from your lair like Clocky always does?”

“You know very well that matters of exceptional import and tumultuous path selection require personal observation in order to maintain timeline coherency. All royal meetings for-”

“‘-at least the next three weeks fit the criteria.’” Elle makes air quotes as she speaks, turning to face Greg while still floating towards the palace, backwards.

“I know, I know. Blah blah regulation, blah blah timelines, blah blah paperwork. Heard it. Got it. Thanks.” She concludes with an eyeroll, before looking back at him.

“Have fun with the rest of the tour!” she yells, smiling and waving as if she was already a mile away. “Make sure Danny shows you the map rooms!”

And then she turns and zooms away.

He can sense the faintest bit of rage coming from Greg, and he barely hears the muttered ‘Insufferable abomination’ before the…guy?...eye… follows suit.

He watches until the eye disappears into the building.

At which point he hears a small sigh from beside him.

He nearly jumps out of his skin in startlement, whipping his head around to find Danny floating placidly by his side, saluting into the distance.

“Good luck, Elle,” he says mournfully, “Rip to your good mood.”

“That bad?” Jason asks, resettling his nerves.

Danny snorts.

“The Observants always make everything either as boring as they can or as difficult as they can. It could be worse though; the Valhallans are a party people so it should balance out. Best case scenario they’ll spend the end of the meeting annoying ‘Greg’-” he adds air quotes at this, grinning, “-together.”

‘The Observants must be the eyeballs then,’ Jason thinks. ‘The name is a bit on the nose…or eye.’

“Anyway!” Danny twists and drifts to float in front of him. “We’ve got another hour or so before dinner; ready to get back to the tour?”

Jason opens his mouth, then pauses.

He takes a glance around and asks “Where is Wulf?”

“Oh, he’s off picking up a preorder - Volume 15 of, uh…something? I don’t remember the name. But don’t worry, he’ll be back in a few hours.”

And wow, the promise that Wulf isn’t just hovering unseen in the background does a lot to untense muscles he hadn’t realized were tensed.

“Right. Sure, tour away.”

He held in his questions, for all that he was bursting at the seams for answers.

Because really: Clone? Archnemesis??? Was this a hero-villain thing or a fae politics thing? Cloning generally wasn’t a thing heroes did, but kidnapping wasn’t either.

What did Elle mean by ‘Halfa?’ Or technically a week old???

Also: brother? Adopted? There’s no way, right?

Being yanked off of the streets of Crime Alley by some dude living in a veritable castle to be adopted with little to no explanation was not something that happened to people twice.

Let alone when he is, in fact, a grown-ass man.

----------------------

The next section they visit is Elle’s, located close to the final tower on the same side as the Specters’ had been.

The first room is filled with complex ice sculptures - a panther the size of a horse, a normal-sized cat, a few of the yetis, a kid in a pirate garb with a parrot, a girl covered in…Lunch Boxes? Danny, Jazz, and Spike were scattered among more unfamiliar statues.

They take their time in this room, Danny pointing to a lot of the people depicted and giving him names to go with faces - he even recognizes a few of them from earlier parts of the tour, and makes sure to commit them all to memory.

Then came the rooms that looked like a cosmopolitan’s dream collection.

A room dedicated to world maps through the ages - little groups of similarly-aged maps slowly orbited each other in globe-like patterns while newer versions and even a few of alien worlds lined the walls.

At least 3 rooms are dedicated to photos from all around the world - he spotted the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids, the Congo from above, the Great Wall of China, Niagara Falls - plenty of well-known tourist locations, as well as a wide variety of nature shots. The nature shots took up an entire floor-width room, and were arranged to transition from one biome to the next.

The next room is full of souvenirs; postcards, foods from around the world frozen in more of that crystal-clear ice, weapons, clothing, jewelry - a little bit of everything.

Another swift pass-through - and by, since one of them was occupied - of the meeting, sitting, and nap rooms has them finally arrive at the room that was probably the reason Elle said ‘map rooms’ and not just ‘room.’

It was domed like an observatory, but instead of the night sky it showed that infinite green.

Different sections zoomed in and out, just slowly enough to take in. The room is scattered with cushions and telescopes aimed up. At the very center stands some kind of machine, spitting out paper which, when he floats over to look at it, reveals a single, ever-growing map.

“Elle is obsessed with travel,” Danny says fondly. “She was away more often than not at first, but then she got the idea to map the Realms - a map that can be referenced rather than a single ‘take me where I ask you to’ artifact.”

He floats up towards the dome as he speaks.

“It might seem pointless with how much paper an infinite amount of realms will take to map, but the mechanism feeds the map data into a computer that sends everything to be incorporated into Tucker and Technus’ Zone Map App. It updates constantly, what with the fluctuations in the Zone, but it’s always improving.”

“Fluctuations?” Jason asks, processing the ‘infinite amount of realms’ remark.

“Think of it like space; there’s gravity against the constant growth of the universe. The zone expands and contracts, like the flow of a tide. Except it’s moving in all directions instead of just the two.

But it expands more than it contracts, and just like on the sea or in space things can drift closer together or farther apart. Following specific streams can help, but only so much. Reliable navigation was pretty hard to come by before Elle, Tuck, and Technus started working on this.”

“Impressive,” Jason says softly.

And it is. The thought of mapping a veritable ocean with important bits that never stayed in the same place…it seemed nigh-impossible.

Opposite the third tower - “We can tour my tower after dinner,” Danny had said - lay the section belonging to Jazz and Spike.

The first thing they come to is familiar - the library.

“Anyone can use the library, but Jazz is the one in charge.”

Jason stops cold.

“Jazz.” He echoes.

Jazz, who had so calmly and proficiently wielded a gun.

Who had gifted him a gun.

Who had expressed her own love for literature.

They’d even briefly discussed some of the classics and yet-

“Jazz made that impossible excuse for a sorting system!?”

He couldn’t bring himself to worry about upsetting him, he’d just have to risk the ribs. That ‘sorting’ system was a travesty that could not stand unchallenged.

Luckily, Danny only chuckles a bit.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he snorts, shaking his head.

“Not that- how are you supposed to find anything!” he shouts, throwing his hands into the air.

“You ask,” Danny answers, brow raised.

“WHO!? THERE’S NO RECEPTIONIST!” Jason scrubs his hands against his hair in frustration.

Understanding dawns on Danny’s face at that.

“Here, let me show you,” he says, nodding to the doors before zooming through.

Jason follows, anger simmering under his skin - fully his own, for the first time in years.

“Library,” Danny says as Jason comes to float beside him, “May I please see The Guide to Phantom Palace?”

A book soars from a wall shelf to float, wiggling in front of him like an eager puppy.

“Thank you!” Danny says brightly, before turning to hand the book to Jason.

“The library is sentient,” he explains. “Good manners are key, by the way - Jazz is in charge, but the library can and will kick people out if they're rude or incautious with food and drinks.”

Jason stares at the book in his hand a moment, frustrated at the simplicity of it and the hour he spent looking aimlessly, but at least a bit soothed at the presence of a way to actually find things - even if the organization still makes no sense.

“Why the emotional organization system, then?” He finally asks.

“That’s for Jazz,” Danny answers. “This library is a part of some psychology project she’s doing - the return system, at least. Ask the library for the book you want - or you can ask for suggestions based on certain criteria. It’s sentient, it can help you find things - and when you’re done with it you put it back where you think it should be based on your own emotions.

Or if you don’t want to participate you can just put your books back on the shelf by the desk and Jazz will rearrange them however she sees fit.”

“Psychology project?” Jason asks after pause.

“Ah, you’d have to ask her. She told me all about it when it was first getting set up, but as much as I tried to understand it, it was all Greek to me.”

“Anyway!” he claps, “Now for the rest!”

The rest of Jazz’s section seems to follow the psychology theme.

A rage room that looks well-loved - battered, glowing clubs and a variety of damaged items from tech to glass to dummies that appeared to be slowly healing themselves.

A soothing room full of soft things and calming music and candles and even a few flowers.

A sound-proof room for quiet, a therapy room for meeting with ‘patients.’ Then of course there were the business meeting, paperwork, sitting, and nap rooms. And a combat room.

The nap, combat, and sitting rooms seemed to be shared, with the second part of the section - Spike’s - branching off from the sitting room.

Spike, of course, had his own cursed paperwork and meeting rooms.

Then came the ‘this is the home of an artist’ rooms.

An enormous circular room was dedicated to acting as a color wheel, the walls slowly shifting from deepest reds to darkest indigos, with every shade and color in between. In the center of the floor was the darkest shade of black, radiating out to a blinding white where it met the walls - the ceiling was the opposite, a bright white dot radiating darker until it met the walls as a void-like black.

A room filled with sketches and paintings, a room full of blank or half-made canvases with pencils and paints and brushes floating all around - seemingly where they’d been abandoned, a room full of miniature landscapes matching both locations he’d seen on earth and the strange landmasses he’d seen on the journey to the castle. And then what Danny called an archive room, where Spike stored older projects that he no longer wished to display.

Skalfred found them just as Danny finished explaining the room.

“Perfect timing!” Danny grins, turning to Jason. “Race you there?"

They’re near the library. Jason knows the way.

He zips around Skalfred and out the door in lieu of an answer.

He can just faintly hear Danny sputtering, ‘You cheater!’ coming out around the echoing laughter behind him.

***

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy

Fun Facts!

Elle’s name - she initially chose Dani because she didn’t want to change herself just to differentiate herself from Danny - lots of people have the same name, and she has just as much right to it as Danny.

But it also made her feel too much like a copy and less like a person - especially with the confusion when she started living with the Fentons.

Then Jazz suggested Elle would be a nice name - it’s part of her name already and it’s like Elle Woods, known badass. They then watched legally blonde, and Dani decided it was a really cool name and started going by Elle. She’s a lot happier with it - no more discomfort when being spoken too, and they can still call her Dani when she and Danny are both in the room and they want to annoy the Observants or other people by doing The Bit(™) [both pointing to themselves ‘who me’ - other person, also in on the bit, facepalming and saying ‘Danny’ - them ‘which Danny.’ Of course no one told the observants Dani also goes by Elle. One time one got tired of it and went ‘Obviously the Danny with the crown of fire.’ And Danny makes the Crown of Fire appear (separate little mini-rings-transformation) at the same time Elle pulls a Burger King Crown actively on fire from her Halfa Pocket Space and they both go ‘which crown of fire’ and it is by the blessing of not having organs alone that the observant in question did not immediately have an aneurysm from sheer, apoplectic rage.]

Palu - Danny is a dog person, Elle is a cat person. Palu is named for Cath Palug - the closest thing I could find to a cat-equivalent of Cujo’s namesake. Same neon-green fur as Cujo, but all-purple eyes. Palu can be the size of a cat (around twice Cujo’s puppy-size), but can get up to the size of a horse (just slightly smaller than Cujo’s max). Unfortunately, Palu is very fond of Being Enormous And Also Hunting Everything That Moves That Isn’t Dani, so they put her in one of Sam’s conservation areas where she’d be happy. She liked it enough to move her lair - an incredibly large pet-bed in a small forest of cat trees - and Dani visits whenever she wants to see her.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #jason todd #danielle phantom #long post #comedy-horror of errors

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methylphenidatedreams · 3 months

Text

Okay don’t remember all the details of my dream but here are the bare bones: there had been like four or five movies produced about Hannah Montana and Elle Woods fighting over a man and each movie took place in a different vacation destination except for the last one which was in space. And they were all musicals. The third one was in the giant opulent hotel that was attacked by mutated penguins created by the Penguin and some evil lady who tried to feed me to them but Batman and Robin saved me and the Mayor, Jack Harkness.

All of the Doctor Whos knew each other and had a group chat/group FaceTimed/visited each other regularly (I guess it was like a bigeneration thing and only the most recent Doctor got the tardis), including an old lady who was apparently an even earlier female doctor from before whitttaker from forgotten some tv movie. Also 13 was a child for some reason so this lady was taking care of her. 13 had gotten put in time out but the old lady wasn’t doing a very good job watching her because she was the prime minister and trying to figure out a way to call a general election from her old fashioned desktop computer so that Jack Harkness could become prime minister instead. I think. I don’t really know how the British government works.

Anyways, back to me who was also the 16th doctor who and more importantly Steven Universe. Even though he was the most recent version of the Doctor Steven wasn’t allowed to own the tardis because he was child and was instead in the custody of all the other doctors, like 13 was. Recently he had been backpacking with 15 and he was still really dirty and he wanted a shower so he let Jason think he had been kidnapped so that they’d let him use their shower.

Bruce, Dick, and Jason lived in either a trailer or just a really small house together. It was cute and inside walls were all white and decorated like a grandma. I’m not sure who it was that was helping Batman out at the hotel earlier since I thought it was classic Robin but both Dick and Jason were adults. Actually I guess they don’t really matter since they were no real help against the apocalypse.

There were these giant like pterodactyls who kinda looked like Sutekh but without the dog qualities, just the six empty eyes and long snoot filled with sharp teeth and they had no ears so they looked kinda like skulls but with green slimy skin. They were aliens I guess and they were here to eat everyone except their culture caused them to respect mated pairs but only people who were legally married. So you could get married for convenience (not dying) but you’d still HAVE to get a priest.

One lady showed the monsters her wedding band and he was like no idiot I know you’re divorced and she was like yeah I didn’t think that would work and then decapitated the monster at the exact second it lunged for her. She was cool I want a movie about her instead I had to watch a miscommunication trope as Steven tried to propose to someone but a bunch of ribbons appeared showing him tired down to other people but that was actually just the various partners his past incarnations had taken babe please.

Actually I think he might have been proposing to a mind wiped Rose but it doesn’t realize matter this was such a strange dream even for me. Also Mrs. Flood was there but she was called “The Flood”. I’ll update if I remember anything else.

#dreams #dreams i had #doctor who #steven universe #batfam

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aceofshitposts · 3 years

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I saw that you like CATS the musical. What are your thoughts on the movie?

AAAAH AHHAHA oh man oh boy y'all should BUCKLE IN cuz it's a ride

my simple thoughts? it's entertaining if only because it butchered the stage show so badly in an attempt to idk modernize it? Well, modernization is one part of it I think. The other part I'll go into below lol. I don't necessarily hate some of the more modern renditions of the songs (mostly the ensemble sets like Jellicle Song for Jellicle Cats) but then others are just... so poorly done it's insulting.

I've said this at the end of this whole rant too but I'm gonna put it up here in case people don't (justifiably) wanna see me go on and on about it:

The movie wasn't made for fans of the musical. It was made to make money and I believe they choose, at least partially, to do that through making it the weirdest and worst possible adaptation they could so that people would want to go see the train wreck. Which, really, worked! It was all people could talk about for a good while so like... Goal achieved, I guess.

A MUCH MORE COMPREHENSIVE ANALYSIS UNDER THE CUT cuz i don't wanna. flood your dash with... this

ALRIGHT SO. Most of my friends know I'm actually a huge fan of new adaptations of things. I love remakes (provided the people making it are coming at it with some form of heart and not just... cash grabbing which is more often the case) I love seeing other peoples interpretations of characters, or changing settings. It's one of the reasons I like American comics so much, getting to see different writers takes is fascinating.

I think musical movies can be wonderful ways to introduce people to a stage show that might have been unavailable to them otherwise! Chicago, for example, is one of the BEST musical to movie adaptations in my opinion. It kept the heart of the show, it's funny and the song numbers are done really well.

There are of course other famous examples, such as Grease or Bye Bye Birdie. Hairspray was also a wonderful take. These are simply off the top of my head, there are of course more.

CATS in particular has a history. If you go through my CATS tag you may see a few posts from @catsnonreplica which posts photos from non broadway productions of CATS! It's a fascinating read and I love, love, love looking at the other interpretations of the characters! CATS is a musical full of fun and wonderful characters if you take the time to see past the ridiculousness haha and the Korean and Japanese runs of CATS especially have some of my favourites.

How does this relate to the movie, I hear you say well. As you might has noticed the movie's interpretations of the characters is........ lackluster at best and downright uncanny valley at best.

CATS is, at its core, a ridiculous thing. I will fully admit that! But it's fun, it's entertaining and if you pay a little attention you can actually get the plot. (Honestly I don't understand when people complain it has no plot but that's a whole other rant for another day)

The movie was... obsessed with this idea of like... semi realism? Like obviously, as a fan, I think they should have leaned into the over the top character designs but instead we got...w ell:

Bombalurina:

Demeter left and Bomba right. Demeter was actually cut! From the movie which is. upsetting lmao.

Macavity is one of the worst offenders for me:

Macavity was... I wish I could know what the hell they were thinking there cuz it's even in his song? Ginger cat??? THAT IS NOT... A GINGER CAT...... but I digress. I would show more examples but I think you get the point.

So. We've butchered the characters appearances. Okay that's fine but what about their personalities?

ALSO BUTCHERED.

There's... there's a lot to unpack here. Just for context: the Jellicle Ball happens once a year and the Jellicle leader chooses a single cat to be reborn into a new life. In the stage play all the cats who are nominated for this honour are on the older side (Jenny-Any-Dots, Bustopher Jones, Skimbleshanks, Gus The Theatre Cat, and eventually Grizzabella) AND are always nominated by another cat. Not themself, unlike the movie where they all seem to nominate themselves.

Jenny-Any-Dots went from a doting grandmother figure who's celebrated for her selfless volunteering and tireless work into a conceited, vain younger cat who is obsessed with fame.

It's an incredibly strange dichotomy. I don't doubt some of it isn't the result of the uh people playing the characters honestly. I do think some of them did the best they could! I don't really blame Jason Derulo, for example, for Tugger. And honestly, Tugger was probably closest to his stage version (while being a trouble maker, he's shown to show Deuteronomy an immense amount of respect)

Speaking of Tugger! This will bring us to one of the biggest grievances with the movie and that is how they handled Mr Mistoffelees.

So... Ugh. So. We have Victoria as the pov character, which imo is like whatever in the grand scheme of things, and then we have Misto who they have decided will be get live interest cuz... Of course. Misto is shown throughout the musical to be awkward, unsure of himself and well. Really, kinda incompetent. Which is Wild cuz in the stage show he might be aloof but he's fairly confident in his powers.

So, Old Deuts gets kidnapped. In the stage show Tugger is the one to bring Misto forward! It's really quite sweet, imo, and I'm showing myself as a Tuggoffelees shipper here, but again Tugger is previously shown to be pretty conceited but then here he is boosting and hyping up Misto to bring Deuteronomy back. My friends and I have lovingly dubbed this the boyfriend hype song.

SOMEHOW. The movie manages to make this, easily, the MOST BORING number in the whole thing. Which, again, WILD. Misto awkwardly stumbles through his whole song, which again is... Boasting of his supreme magical powers which movie Misto clearly. Does not have or believe to have. The song, to me, feels super awkward and unnecessarily drawn out in the movie which sucks cuz it's one of my favourites in the show.

The declawing (heh) of Mr Mistoffelees actually reminds me strongly of how they changed Gaston in the live action Beauty and the Beast movie. He's gone from a beloved figure in the animated movie to someone so disliked in the town that Le Fou has to pay people off to say nice things about him. It's just. Wild character choices were made!!

Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat is probably my favourite in movie non ensemble number. It feels the most... Genuine? Compared to the other nomination songs.

Other problems include but are not limited to:

The inconsistent size scale of the CATS which throws me off constantly.

The weirdly overt sexual overtones added to MANY of the songs (Jenny and Bustopher being the worst)

This is just a personal gripe and opinion but I don't like that they used the UK version of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. The American version is both better known and tbh way more fun. Teazer's giggle? Adds ten years to my life every time.

Victoria's added solo song, Beautiful Ghosts, while I like the song as a song it doesn't fit the style of message of the musical. In the movie she's singing directly to Grizzabella who's being an outcast for years that she should be grateful she even has memories of being part of the tribe?? What?? But I know they had to add an original song to be able to be nominated for awards in like the Grammys n shit (which is why all musical movies will have an original song, fun fact!!) kinda funny they went to the effort though considering........... I don't think anyone could have genuinely believed CATS 2019 was gonna win anything but golden rhaspberries.

Movie Mr Mistoffelees has made repeated appearances as my sleep paralysis demon

The various cut characters, shout outs to Jemima, Demeter and Jellylorum especially

Bombalurina being a henchman to Macavity rubs me the wrong way

God I've written... So much. You probably get it by now haha. Like I said at the beginning, I try to go into any adaptation with an open mind but... Let's be honest, this movie wasn't marketed to people who are fans of the musical.

It was marketed, and made, to make money. And they choose to do that through, I think, intentionally making the worst possible version ever. Bad press is still press and the more outrageous people said the movie was the more people wanted to go see exactly what kind of train wreck it was.

Which is a disservice to the stage show, honestly, and all the people who've worked on it over the years.

But what can we do, right?

And besides all that, I do... Still own the movie version and I do still rewatch it on occasion. It is entertaining even if it's in a train wreck kind of way. I usually end up watching the 1998 version, then 2019 and then various tour runs that are on YouTube. (I highly recommend the 2016 tour, it's very good)

So in conclusion. It's fun (?) to watch. I enjoy picking things apart and doing analysis (if you couldn't tell!) so like... I don't hate it?

It did what it set out to do, I guess, and I can't fault it for that but. It's not a fair metre with which to judge the stage show imo. But I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, haha.

Jazz hands. I'm more than happy to elaborate or just chat about CATS if anyone wants! I grew up listening to the Broadway CD since I was a toddler so it's been! A very long standing obsession haha. Probably the only other thing on par with CATS is my obsession with Jurassic Park which I've also been a fan of since I was 3 (but that's a whole story in and of itself)

#astrix thoughts #cats the musical #Thanks for the opportunity to talk about one of my hyperfixations anon!#And to anyone who reads this whole mess lmao

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hotchley · 4 years

Text

“sometimes you do everything right, everything exactly right, and still you feel like you failed”

morehotchcontent day two: whump (in a hostage situation/hurt on the job)

tagged: @ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety

why should the team look for him? he was nothing. he would die for them, because they were his team and they deserved the world. but he was not the world. he was just one broken, old man and they could do better. they could do so, so much better than a drill sergeant, sexist, narcissistic bully.

an unsub kidnaps hotch. in his mind, he isn’t worth saving.

warnings: torture (choking, forced to choke on water, caning, punching, stabbing), depictions of violence, implied/referenced child abuse, non-consensual removal of clothing, references to the events of george foyet, references to tobias hankel and reid's torture, references to ian doyle and what he did to emily

read on ao3!

Hotch had taken one look at the case-file and immediately known it was going to be a bad case. The victims had all been kidnapped and tortured, before being dumped in the local park, stripped down to their underwear as a form of humiliation. A word- always a personality trait- had been carved into their back.

For the BAU, it was pretty standard.

For Hotch, it was like looking at a mirror. All the victims fit the same criteria, which on the one hand he was grateful for because maybe it would mean they would find the damn unsub without any more bodies appearing, but on the other hand made him want to be sick.

The victims had all been the leaders of their respective teams. The first was the manager of a supermarket, the second a senior partner in a law firm, the third a headteacher. He had no idea what the fourth was. He’d read it, but without ever really processing the words.

But their subordinates hated them. Deemed them bullies, narcissists, dickheads, evil bastards. When they’d been informed of the deaths, not a single one had cried. One had laughed. They had all been relieved enough to be considered suspects.

He looked out at the bullpen. JJ was sat with them, sat on the edge of Reid’s desk as she laughed at something Emily- Agent Prentiss, he corrected mentally- was saying. The case had come directly to him, the file lying on his desk as though it was mocking him because the previous day he’d told the team it was likely they’d be spending the weekend at home.

Morgan was watching the scene unfold with a wide smile, yet his eyes darted round the area, always watching over the other members of his team like it was his duty. Not for the first time, Hotch wondered if he should have stepped down permanently. Morgan had done well as Unit Chief. And he wasn’t hated by the team. They didn’t look at Morgan and think of a boring, misogynistic, horrid narcissist. They looked at Morgan and thought of a protector.

He sighed. Part of him wanted to ask Rossi to inform the team they had a case but that was just being unfair. It was his stupid comment about getting to spend time at home that had undoubtedly landed them in this situation. The least he could do was own it. At the last moment, he decided to read through the casefile one more time. It would give JJ enough time to finish showing them the pictures of Henry at the beach.

When JJ tucked her phone back into her pocket, he stood up. Took a deep breath and exited. Almost immediately, the laughter stopped and they all turned back to their reports. JJ slid off the table and started to head back to her office. Hotch tried to disguise his hurt as indifference and he knew he’d succeeded when Reid swallowed and Morgan looked disappointed.

It had been five years since Tobias Hankel, and yet nothing had changed. The team still hated him. Cases still ruined their everyday life.

“We have a case. Roundtable in ten,” he said. The rest of the words wouldn’t come. Because if he said more than the bare minimum, he would reveal too much and they would hate him even more than they already did. It was bad enough that he was everything they’d called him, but it would be even worse if they realised just how weak he was.

He went back up to his office to pack things away and send a quick text to Jess and Jack, before he realised that they’d benefit from having Garcia with him. He had always wondered what Garcia really thought of him, but he’d always been too afraid to ask. A part of him liked to think she liked him, but that was impossible.

JJ thought he was a bully, and when he thought of the number of times he’d snapped at Garcia for not being fast enough, he understood. Morgan considered him a drill sergeant, said they weren’t friends, and he was always breaking up their fun, teasing comments. It didn’t matter he was doing it for professionality, that was one of their only reprieves and he was constantly taking it from them. Prentiss accused him of not trusting women as much as men, and there had definitely been times when he’d looked at Garcia and felt the urge to ask where she’d got the information from. Reid told Hankel he deserved to die because he was a narcissist. How many times had he asked Garcia to look at the worst of humanity, knowing she was too good for that?

Garcia never told him what his worst quality was. He’d heard enough by the time it would’ve got to her. Jason had opened his mouth, probably to tell him to stop, but he’d had enough. He wished he hadn’t stopped him. Maybe if he’d known, he could’ve changed and then Gideon would still be with them and Reid would have someone who was actually competent as a father figure.

It was with a heavy heart that he took the elevator down to Garcia’s lair. As he’d passed through the bullpen, he saw the haggard faces of his team, and he wondered, not for the first time, how many more crime scenes they could suffer through before their hands stopped going cold and they lost their humanity.

He knocked on the door, once, slightly hesitant.

“You don’t need to knock Kevin!” Garcia called out.

Hotch swallowed the lump in his throat. Yet another relationship he was ruining. He coughed once before saying it was actually him.

Almost immediately Garcia flung the door open. “Sir! I didn’t realise it was you. What is it?”

“We have a case. And, well, I’d like you to come with us. It’ll be easier,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Of course! Just give me sixteen minutes to pack my stuff and then I’ll be up, okay?”

He nodded, then the Southern manners kicked in. “Would you like any help?” he asked, slightly hopeful that she’d say yes.

“Oh no, of course not. It’s much simpler if I just do it myself. I know where everything goes and it’s just easier.”

“Right. I’ll err, I’ll see you in a bit then,” he said, trying to not take it personally. Garcia probably wouldn’t let anyone touch her computers or equipment. It wasn’t just him. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t sure he’d survive it. He was about to exit when she called out his name and he turned.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay? You’ve seemed distant recently. And normally I wouldn’t comment, but I’m worried about you. You know you can talk to us? Any of us. I know the others weren’t particularly fond of Haley, but you didn’t have to be a profiler to realise you loved her.”

He started fidgeting, stuffing his hand in his pocket as he brushed his thumb over his fingers.

If Garcia noticed his discomfort, she didn’t comment. “It doesn’t matter that you got a divorce, you still loved each other. Recovering from that is hard. Add in the fact that you’re going back to the same job, and it’s a recipe for disaster. What I’m trying to say is: are you okay, and do you want to talk about it?”

He wanted to say yes. He so desperately wanted to hug Garcia, fall apart in her arms and confess all his fears to her. He wanted to tell her how ever since Hankel, he’d hardly been able to look at the team, or how the list of people he’d failed to save- Elle, Jason, Kate Joyner, countless innocent victims, Megan Kane, Haley- seemed to be growing with every breath. He longed to finally tell someone who horrifying it was when Foyet was in his apartment, how he could hardly look in the mirror without gagging, how he had blinked because he was human. He wanted to say that there were nights where he couldn’t comfort Jack because how dare he touch his son with the same hands that had killed a man?

But he couldn’t. The only value he held as a member of the team was being stoic. Unshaken. The one that dealt with the politics, played bad cop, spoke to Strauss and the higher-ups, dealt with unruly lead detectives without flinching. If any of them knew just how choked up he got every time Strauss asked to see a report, how every case that involved him playing the role ended with him sat in the shower, water numbing his body as tears rolled down his cheeks, they’d cast him out.

And he would have nothing.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Just a little tired. Jack was keeping me up. He’s excited about starting school soon.”

Jack had kept him up, but not because he was excited about starting school. Because he was scared he was going to come home and daddy wouldn’t be there.

“Wow. I remember when he was just a little baby coming in to visit. Back when the Reid effect was still a thing.”

Hotch faked a laugh, ignoring the bile that was rising in his throat. He didn’t want to think about that. How the team had done nothing more than be polite, all stood a respectful distance away, as though he was poison. Or how just minutes after he said goodbye to Jack and Haley- who was still happy and in love- they were called out on a family annihilator case.

“Yeah. The time has gone by so fast. I’ll let you pack up,” he said, needing to get away from the lights and brightness.

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry,” Garcia said, as though she had only just remembered why he’d come down.

“You have nothing to apologise for Penelope,” he said, before closing the door behind him.

Forty minutes later and they were in the air.

JJ was on the phone to the local P.D, convincing them that releasing any sort of information to the public, especially the name of a suspect, would not be beneficial to the investigation. Hotch wanted to intervene because it wasn’t fair that she had to be fielding their phone calls when she should be resting, but he didn’t want to overstep so he settled for keeping one eye on her and the other on the casefiles.

When they landed, JJ said that the local PD had wanted them all to head straight to the precinct, so they piled into the government SUVs. Hotch tried to not let it sting when Morgan sighed before getting into the passenger seat. Once upon a time, he would’ve said they were friends. But now he knew better. Morgan had only wanted him around because he could lead the team. But after Foyet, he’d proven that he couldn’t even do that, and that Morgan was clearly the better leader.

Why he was still on the team was a mystery to him.

“Miss Jareau, hello. I’m Sheriff Finkelstein, we spoke on the phone?” the sheriff greeted.

“It’s Agent Jareau, Detective,” Hotch corrected, voice betrayed his tiredness.

JJ looked over in surprise. She could have sworn she saw him drift off.

Hotch wouldn’t meet her eyes. He corrected people when they called Dr Reid agent. Of course he would do the same for the rest of them, regardless of what their opinions on him were.

“Of course, my apologies, Agent Jareau. We’re very grateful to have you here, we’re completely in over our heads. Our lead detective just took early retirement as his wife had a baby and he wants to be at home with the two of them- an admirable decision- but it just means that we’re now overwhelmed and still looking for a new lead,” Finklestein explained, leading them to one of the conference rooms. He held the door open for the ladies, who all gave him small smiles.

Hotch tried to nod. Yet another person who’d managed to do the one thing he had failed at. If he had taken the transfer, or left when Jack was born, then Haley would still be alive. There would be a tan line on his ring finger from where his wedding ring sat.

“Do you have any clues who it could be? It’s a very specific MO and victimology, which should help us narrow things down,” Morgan asked, always eager to get straight into things.

Sheriff Finkelstein sighed. “Unfortunately not. There’s no DNA anywhere. All of the team members have been questioned, and although they all hated their respective bosses, there’s no indication that any of them would’ve done it.”

“We’d like to see the recordings of their interviews,” Rossi said.

“And if I could have a map of the area to start creating the geographical profile, that’d be great,” Reid added.

“Whatever you need,” Finkelstein said, leaving.

Hotch left with him to gather some of the extra information they needed. The team- bar Morgan and Rossi, who had left to go to M.E’s office, were skimming through the files created on each of the members and their victims.

“I’m not saying they deserved it, but these men were disgusting,” Emily commented.

“Prentiss,” Hotch warned, but he knew she was right.

She stared at him, daring him to go further. He dropped his gaze and walked over to Reid. “How’s that geographical profile coming along?”

“Well it’s interesting. See, their workplaces are all the ones in red. The places in blue are the last locations they were seen in- which is another common factor actually because they were all in restaurants, cafes and takeaways which is actually similar to a previous case we solved so I may look into that to see if there are any links- and I’m doing that rambling thing again aren’t I?”

“You’re okay,” Hotch said, not wanting to cut Reid off when they didn’t really have a time crunch.

“No I’ll just get to the point, we all have more important things to be doing. Look at the area where the victims work and then where the unsub takes them. They’re all within five minutes of each other. Our unsub probably work somewhere where they can watch their targets from, otherwise how else would they be able to find them?”

“We need to deliver the profile,” Hotch said.

Two days after they delivered the profile, and the unsub still hadn’t been found. Garcia’s tech skills had given them a suspect, but he’d been out of the country during the last murder. Since the development with the geographical profile, they hadn’t been able to find anything. Hotch had felt like someone was watching him since they landed, but he hadn’t said anything, not wanting to distract the team.

Morale was low. Patience was running out and tempers were going to be lost if there wasn’t a break in the case. Officers had started joking with each other in the macabre way only people that dealt with these things on a regular basis could that they were lucky none of them were evil as the station was extremely close to the other workplaces, bur Finkelstein had shut them down almost immediately.

Hotch had cried in the shower that night. Reid had wanted to say something, but ultimately refrained because it was Hotch and Hotch didn’t blink; he’d be okay.

So things weren’t going great, and the team were exhausted. They needed a pick-me-up.

Hotch picked up his jacket. “I’m going to get us food. Does anyone have any specific requests, or is donuts and coffee okay?”

“You’re going to go?” Prentiss asked, a little confused. Hotch had gone yesterday. It was supposed to be Reid’s turn.

“Yeah. I am. Reid’s busy, and it’s not fair to ask him to go and it’s unfair to get someone else to go because they’ve all be running themselves into the ground. And before you say it, I’m not saying that you haven’t, because you have,” Hotch said, his own temper also fading. He was trying so hard to be good, to not treat anyone the way his father had but the lack of progress, combined with the way Emily seemed to get off on undermining him, even now, after everything that had happened, was beginning to wear on him.

“Hotch? Are you okay?” JJ asked, entering with another stack of files. As it turned out, the town was full of white males in their mid-to-late 20s that worked jobs where the person in charge had a bit of a dodgy history, and they were still trying to narrow it down.

“I’m fine. Any requests for dinner? I’m probably going to go to that café because Reid will want coffee as soon as he gets back from the workplace with Morgan, and Rossi likes their croissants but I don’t mind making another stop if you want me to,” he said.

JJ smiled at how well her boss- well, family member- knew their team, and also at how willing he was to go out of his way for all of them. But her smile faded when she took in his appearance. The circles under his eyes were getting worse and his suit seemed to be looser. She knew Reid was having trouble sleeping as the fifth anniversary of his abduction approached, and she knew Emily was still struggling with her place on the team in a world without Doyle, but their trauma was not Hotch’s responsibility. She just wished he would stop blaming himself.

“Surprise me with something from the café. But are you sure you should be the one going?” She didn’t tell him it was because he looked exhausted; she liked her job.

But she had her back turned to him. She didn’t see him clench his fist, rubbing his thumb over the nail of his index finger in a self-soothing motion. She didn’t see the tears form in his eyes.

“I’ll be fine JJ. Tell the others I should be back in thirty minutes,” he said, voice cracking slightly as he fled.

“Is something going on with him?” Prentiss asked.

JJ shrugged. “Jack mentioned him being unwell right after you came back, but I thought he was doing better now.”

Emily watched the space where he’d been previously stood. “I just wish he would talk to us. He has to know we love him and wouldn’t think any less of him for struggling.”

JJ nodded in agreement.

Hotch was driving, unable to focus on the road properly. He knew his team thought they were being subtle with the way they hated him, but he was a profiler. He knew JJ was only questioning whether or not he should go because he was just like all the other victims and it had been a week since the last body was found, meaning there was bound to be another abduction soon.

It wasn’t going to be him. He wasn’t deserving of even that attention.

“Oh hello again. I was wondering if I was going to see you again,” the barista said when he entered.

Hotch noted that there was nobody else there. “I’m so sorry, is it really close to closing time? I saw that the light was on and I just assumed it was okay.”

He laughed. Hotch shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

“We’re still open, don’t worry about it. What can I get for you?”

“It’s another long order,” Hotch warned. The barista just shrugged, used to it. When Hotch was done, he took a brownie out and warmed it up.

“This is on the house because you look like you need it and your order will take a bit of time,” he said, sliding it across the counter.

Hotch stopped observing the artwork. “I couldn’t possibly-”

“Yes you can,” the barista said, his tone so much like JJ’s when she was mother-henning them all that Hotch silently took a bite. It was a good brownie. He took a few more bites, wincing when his head started to feel fuzzy.

“Do you like it?” the barista asked.

“It’s really good. But my head- I have- my head feels, not right,” he whispered, vision starting to blur as well.

“It’s not supposed to,” the barista responded, jovial tone gone.

The world went black.

The first thing he noticed when he came round was that he couldn’t move his arms. Or his legs. He struggled, unable to see what had happened to him as his eyes were taking forever to adjust to the darkness, but there was no movement to be had.

He was tied to a chair. He struggled even more, but his bonds held.

“You’re awake.”

“You,” Hotch whispered. “It was you the whole time.”

“Yep. And my name is Jonathan. You would know that if you had just bothered to read my nametag,” he said.

Hotch scanned the room, searching for anything that would act as a weapon. There was nothing. He tried to calm his racing heart and think logically but he couldn’t. The last time he’d been this vulnerable was under George Foyet. George Foyet who had destroyed all feeling in the lower part of his stomach, who had killed Haley, who had made damn well sure Aaron would never be able to look at himself without seeing the victory on Foyet’s face right before his eyes fluttered shut from the blood loss.

“I’m sorry for forgetting,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even.

Jonathan slapped him across the face. Hotch recoiled as much as he could, not making a sound. It was always worse when you made a sound.

“Stop lying to me. I know who you are. I know how you people work. You think that if you convince me that it was all just an honest mistake, then I’ll forgive you and let you go running back to your team. Well I won’t and nothing you say will make me change my mind.”

“I’m sorry,” Hotch whispered. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Jonathan scoffed, slapping Hotch again. Both his cheeks were red now. “You’re all the same. You do one small thing for your team, and you think it will make up for the lifetime of pain you caused them. Well it won’t.”

He turned. Hotch tried to see what he was picking up, but he couldn’t. Before he even realised what was happening, pain blossomed in his stomach. Above him, Jonathan bought the cane down again, and again, and again.

Tears were streaming down his face now. “Please, stop. Please, I’ll do anything, just stop with the cane.” He hated begging. He hadn’t begged since he was a child. He hadn’t flinched when George Foyet fired a gun at him. But he wasn’t that man anymore. He was tired now. More tired and more broken that he’d ever been before.

Jonathan laughed. “Okay. I’ll stop. But I’m going to release you from the chair, and you’re going to raise your arms high enough for your hands to touch that chain on the ceiling. If you fail, I’ll cane you till you’re curled into a ball, begging for mercy.”

Aaron was half-delirious now, but he managed to follow the instructions given.

When Jonathan ran the cold metal of his knife, the same knife he’d used with all the other victims, down his cheek and across his chest, Aaron flinched. Minutely, but he flinched.

Jonathan smirked. “Normally I killed them quickly. I made them die quickly because they didn’t deserve to live. But you, you I want to have fun with.” He cut down the centre of Hotch’s shirt with one clean cut. Aaron closed his eyes, unable to look at the scars.

“My, my, someone must really have hated you,” Jonathan laughed.

Hotch didn’t respond. Jonathan pressed the metal to the scar over his chest. Hotch jerked at the coldness, straining his arms even more.

“You’re a bad man Aaron Hotchner. I’ve been watching you since you landed. You’re very bad. Do you want to know why you’re bad? You’re a bully. I saw the way you shouted at your technical analyst over the phone because she wasn’t fast enough.”

Hotch hadn’t meant to shout. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to remember it.

“Oh are you ashamed now? You don’t get to be ashamed. Open your eyes.”

Hotch shook his head.

Jonathan wrapped one hand around Hotch’s throat and pushed down. Hotch opened his eyes, panicked as he tried to inhale. He relaxed his hold then.

“Good boy. You shouted at her. And then you undermined the blonde one by taking over her interrogation. And the other one by interrupting her conversation with the officer. Sexist pig.”

The plan had always been for him to take over. The officer had been making Prentiss uncomfortable with his flirting. Hotch tried to say that, but Jonathan just laughed, then punched him in the stomach. Claimed those were just lies they told him to protect themselves so they kept their jobs.

“You tried to control their every move. You wouldn’t let Mr Strong do the right thing and come look for me. Drill sergeant. You cut off the baby because you needed to speak, acted like you were better than him. Like you were better than all of them.”

“I’m not a narcissist,” Hotch protested.

Jonathan dropped the knife, opting to punch him in the stomach again. Hotch let out a groan. “That’s what they all say. It’s been half an hour. They’ll be expecting you back now. I wonder what will happen when you don’t come back. Will they look for you? I think they will. Not because they love you, but because they’ll be afraid. What if you’re the one to survive? What if you escape?”

“They won’t come,” Hotch said.

Jonathan, who had gone back over to the table, turned. “What did you say?”

“They won’t come,” Hotch repeated.

Jonathan stormed over, holding a bat. Before Hotch could prepare himself, he was hitting him with it. In the knees, across the back of his thighs, everywhere that would cause the most pain. Hotch didn’t want to know what the crack he’d heard when that bat had hit his ribs was.

Jonathan liked the bat. When he heard the crack, he grinned. And then he Hotch over the head. For the second time that day, the world went black.

“He should be here by now,” Reid said, pacing up and down the conference room. “It’s been fifty-seven minutes. The journey should have taken an average of thirty minutes, forty with traffic, but it’s now after eleven when there’s virtually no traffic on the road.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Reid. There was probably some cute barista he got stuck talking to. You know how Hotch is. Never knows when people are flirting with him, and then when he does realise, he gets stuck in an awkward conversation,” Morgan said, but it was all an act. He knew there wouldn’t be a cute barista. But for the sake of Reid, he had to stay strong.

“Look Aaron wouldn’t want us to worry. In twenty minutes, we’ll go back to the hotel. And if he’s not here tomorrow, then we’ll start to investigate okay?” Dave said.

The others nodded, all feeling uneasy, but having the utmost faith in their leader.

Their leader that was still unconscious, Jonathan having moved him to the floor. The back of his head was coated with blood. He almost looked like Haley. But Haley had looked peaceful in her coffin, face void of any expression. Aaron was in pain, despite not being awake.

Jonathan didn’t try and force him to wake up. Aaron Hotchner was going to be his masterpiece.

“Is Agent Hotchner not with you?” Finkelstein asked once they got to the precinct.

They all turned to each other. Dave immediately dialled his cell.

“Voicemail,” he said.

Emily turned away, not wanting to think about the last time his phone had gone to voicemail. She still couldn’t get the image of him, so weak that he couldn’t even sit up without assistance, his face so defeated as he said goodbye to the one good thing in his life, out of her mind. It haunted her nightmares more than Ian Doyle did.

“We need to find him,” Morgan said.

“I’ll have Garcia track his phone,” JJ said.

She tracked his phone to the coffee shop. There was nobody there. No signs of a struggle. Nobody outside had seen anything strange or suspicious.

When Morgan and Rossi returned, faces grave, Reid excused himself. When he returned, his eyes were red. JJ hugged him, words not enough to convey how sorry she was for everything that had happened between them. Emily watched, biting her nails. Hotch had put everything on the line for her multiple times. He didn’t get to go missing like this.

Jonathan was bored of watching Aaron sleep. He kicked him in the stomach, grinning when he let out a soft groan of pain, but managed to open his eyes.

“Morning sunshine,” he greeted.

Aaron tried to flinch away, but found his legs and arms were bound. His head was pounding, his ribs ached, his stomach was bruising from where Jonathan had kicked him and there were angry welts from where the cane had struck.

“You’re a bastard,” Hotch spat, trying not to panic when blood splattered onto his clothes.

“You give me the sweetest compliments, I’m starting to wonder if you really are like the rest of my victims.”

Hotch tried to glare up at him.

Jonathan laughed. “And then you do things like that, and I remember that you’re all the same. You know, I wanted to have a conversation about what you said earlier, but now I think I’ll save that for tomorrow. There’s a few things I want to do before then.”

Hotch had choked on water before. It wasn’t pleasant. But having it forced down his throat was worse. He couldn’t keep swallowing it, and most of it ended up on his shirt. That angered Jonathan. It led to more pain. More torture. Hotch couldn’t feel anything though. He didn’t think that was a good thing. A part of him was holding out hope that the team would find him, but with every passing moment, it seemed to fade slightly.

Why should the team look for him? He’s nothing. He would die for them, because they were his team and they deserved the world. But he was not the world. He was just one broken, old man and they could do better. They could do so, so much better than a drill sergeant, sexist, narcissistic bully.

There were no windows where he was being held. But at some point, Jonathan forced him to eat. And at some point later than that, he told Hotch to get some rest as the next day was going to be big.

Hotch closed his eyes, but he did not sleep.

Nor did any member of the BAU. A whole day of searching and there were still no clues that would lead them to Hotch. Nobody had been reported missing either, which meant either nobody cared enough about the person that had been kidnapped or the unsub was developing a new pattern. Either way, it wasn’t looking good.

Rossi forced them all to get some sleep. He told himself that if they got Aaron back safely, he would make sure that man knew just how much he was loved by all of them. He would finally tell Aaron how he had always viewed him as the son he’d lost, and how he had never once regretted returning.

Morgan knew his relationship with Hotch would never be perfect, but at the end of the day, they were a family. He would spend the rest of his life convincing Hotch that he deserved all the happiness in the world if he needed to, as soon as he’d lectured him about being an idiot.

Garcia was already planning what she was going to make for him. She remembered when she had first started in the BAU, and Hotch had been the only person to treat her like an actual employee. They would eat lunch together because neither of them really had any friends within the unit. Morgan and Reid were still trying to adjust to her, and Gideon had always loved Reid more than he loved Hotch, which had made her sad.

Reid couldn’t lose another father. He lay awake, thinking of stories that he could recommend for Jack. He wanted to be in his own bed, where he could look at the constellations on his ceiling. Hotch had somehow found out about his fear of the dark, but instead of mocking him, he said he’d understood. A day later, he found glow in the dark stars in his bag with a note from Hotch saying he wanted to see a picture of the constellations he made.

Reid had returned the favour after Foyet.

JJ held Emily and they both hoped that he- the man that had already lost so much and struggled through it all for the sake of their band of misfit profilers- would come home safely.

“Rise and shine Aaron,” Jonathan said, throwing a bucket of water over Hotch, who immediately jerked awake as he started to shiver.

“What’s going on?” he whispered.

“You’ll see. But first, I need to make you a little bit more… presentable, shall we say?”

Hotch knew better than to hope that would mean a change of clothes. Jonathan removed the rope around his hands, but only to slide Aaron’s shirt off his shoulders. He pushed down on the bruises, only stopping when Hotch gasped.

“They’re going to be distraught,” he commented, punching Hotch in the face.

His eyes immediately started watering. Jonathan punched him again. Hotch recoiled, feeling the blood drip from his nose. He was dead weight now, but they had been right in assuming that their unsub was incredibly strong. He pulled Aaron into the chair before tying him up, bloodied and beaten and bruised and broken.

Hotch saw the camera.

And he suddenly understood what Jonathan meant.

“No,” he shouted, voice hoarse.

But it was too late.

“Hello Agent Hotchner’s team. I apologise for not knowing your first names, but Aaron only ever used your surnames. Maybe he wanted to detach himself from you all. Let’s see. Ah, the whole team is there! I don’t actually know who you all are, but that’s no worry. I bet you’re trying to work out where he is. It’s not going to work. You should watch the show instead. I bet you really want to see your fearless leader.”

Jonathan stepped back to reveal Hotch.

Morgan had to put his hand on the screen to stop Garcia from closing it. Reid whimpered, JJ shouted, Rossi cursed loudly. Finkelstein grabbed a whole bunch of officers and told them to do whatever it took to find that man.

“Now, Agent Hotchner talks in his sleep. Did you know that? And he’s said some quite interesting things. But first, we’re going to unpack something he said to me on our first day together. Do you remember what that thing was, Aaron?”

Aaron looked up at him, dazed. “No,” he whispered.

“You told me, they weren’t going to come and get you. I killed four people. All of them laughed and told me their colleagues, or their friends, or their families would find them. You didn’t. Why? Tell me. Tell them. They’re all watching.”

Hotch closed his eyes, needing to ground himself. When he opened them, tears were pooling in them, threatening to spill. “They already failed once. They didn’t- we had a case. But they never found me. I didn’t answer my phone, but they didn’t come looking until it was too late to save anyone. They failed to save me once. Why would they try now?”

Garcia was crying. She was trying to find him, but the unsub was right. It was impossible. They’d already dispatched officers to the man’s work and home addresses, but they all knew it was just a formality. They weren’t going to find anything.

“He’s right. We didn’t find him. We should have gone the moment his phone went to voicemail,” Emily said.

“That’s in the past,” Rossi said. “We need to focus on now. Where is he, now? How are we going to save him this time?”

“He’ll send us a message. Some sort of code. He has to,” Reid said, intently watching the screen.

Jonathan looked at Hotch for a few long moments. And then he took the knife he was holding and he cut one deep line from Hotch’s knee to his ankle. Hotch begged for mercy the whole time, but it never came.

“How tragic. Did you ever wonder why they didn’t try?”

“I’m not worth saving,” Hotch whispered.

That caused Jonathan to pause. “What?”

“I’m not worth saving. I’m a narcissist. A bully. Drill sergeant. I have trust issues, I don’t trust women as much as men and they don’t want to be my friend,” Hotch said.

Rossi frowned. “Kid, what’s the message? I don’t get it.”

Reid was shaking. “I don’t- I called him a narcissist when Hankel told me to choose someone to die but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t, I said it because I knew he would understand. He never puts himself above the team. But when I said that it gave away my location. There’s nothing with what he just said. Nothing. I don’t even know where the other things came from.”

Prentiss pressed her hand to her mouth. “He genuinely believes that. He’s not lying. I know his tell. He’s not doing it. He’s telling his version of the truth.”

Rossi turned. “What do you mean he genuinely believes that?”

All three of them swallowed, unable to form a response.

“When Reid called Hotch a narcissist and then quoted the Bible, Hotch went off. He told everyone to say what his worst quality was. And in the moment Morgan called him a drill sergeant. JJ said he was a bully. Em said he didn’t trust women as much as men. He cut them off after that and it was never addressed. I told- when we got back to Quantico, I told him he didn’t wear casual clothes enough and he- he smiled,” Garcia explained.

Rossi had never been so angry at his family. “Why would you say that? You know what he’s like. You know how personally he takes things. It doesn’t matter that it was just in the moment, he needed to hear it from all of you that you didn’t mean it.”

Prentiss lunged forward. “Aaron,” she shouted. When Hotch turned slightly to face the camera, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Aaron, it’s Emily. I know you’re not sexist. I know that you trust me just as much as anyone else on the team. I promise. And Morgan loves you too. JJ doesn’t think you’re a bully. We love you, but we need you to help us. Please.”

Jonathan turned to face the camera too. “Stop ruining all the fun, Emily.”

Emily flinched. Jonathan said her name like it was something dirty, but Aaron had only ever said it like it was something to be cherished.

When Jonathan slapped Hotch, Reid closed his eyes.

“What do you think Aaron? Do you think she’s correct? Are you worthy of their love? Or are you exactly like the other victims, maybe even worse?”

Hotch shook his head. “I don’t know. Please, I just, I don’t know.”

Jonathan picked up the cane. Hotch curled in on himself as much as he could. For everyone else, it was like watching Hankel torture Reid all over again. When the cane made contact with Hotch’s stomach, the sound he let out made the tears in Rossi’s eyes fall.

“I think I’ll let you all struggle for a few hours before the grand finale. But, I am nothing if not generous. Aaron, is there anything you want to say to them?”

He looked directly at the camera. Not even Morgan could look into his eyes, so full of pain and anguish. “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry for everything. I’m- I never meant for any of you to become so damaged and I am so- I will spend every last minute making up for the pain I caused you, but please, just, please forgive me. Forgive me. Please.”

Jonathan ended it all. There was no way of tracing them.

Reid repeated the words to himself. He needed to find the clue. He needed to work out what the message was. He refused to believe there wasn’t one. Morgan and Rossi slipped into their respective leadership roles, commanding everyone and barking orders. Garcia’s fingers were like lightning, she was finding everything she could on Jonathan. JJ dealt with the media, who wanted to know exactly what was going on. Prentiss flitted between the various groups, offering support. It was weird. Coming back had felt like coming home, but then there were moments like these where she wasn’t sure she’d ever been part of the team.

Hotch was confused. He knew Emily’s tell. She couldn’t hide it from him. He’d been searching for it as she spoke, but it wasn’t there. Which would imply she was telling the truth. But that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t let himself believe it was possible. Only, there was no other logical discussion. Maybe they loved him. Maybe they cared.

“What are you?” Jonathan hissed.

“Their friend,” Aaron whispered, momentarily forgetting where he was.

Jonathan kicked his bare foot. Aaron winced.

“No, you aren’t,” Jonathan said. “You’re a narcissist. You’re a bully. And a drill sergeant, and a sexist prick. I’m assuming- by the looks on their faces- the blonde with glasses and the old man never said anything against you. But I think I know what they would say. You’re rude. And you’re a failure. So what are you?”

“A narcissist,” Hotch replied. But he knew that wasn’t the truth. They were going to find him. They were going to save him, somehow, because that was what their family did.

Dave saved him by offering him the spot. He saved Penelope from a life of crime. Penelope saved Emily from doubting herself too much. Emily saved Jennifer from carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Jennifer saved Spencer from thinking he wasn’t worth loving. Spencer saved Derek from getting too cynical. Derek saved Dave from getting too cocky. And the cycle continued.

Reid was pacing, wringing his hands, still mouthing the words to him. Everyone else had stopped because there was nothing left to do.

Without warning, Reid turned and punched the wall.

“Spence!” JJ shouted.

Reid stared at his hand, where blood was now covering his knuckles. Shaking, he fell to his knees, sobbing. Hotch would know what to do. Hotch would take his hand and gently wrap it before talking to him about whatever it was that was going on. He would help him sort through the information overwhelming him.

But Hotch wasn’t there. And it was all his fault.

JJ and Morgan ran over to him. Reid wanted to push them away but found himself powerless to resist their coddling.

“Guys,” Garcia said, answering the call.

She let out a gasp. Hotch’s stomach was worse. There were more cuts on his leg. His face was covered in bruises. But there was something else that hadn’t been there before. A defiant, hopeful glint in his eyes. Like he knew something else now.

“Hello again,” Jonathan greeted.

Garcia immediately started trying to trace the call, not even hesitating to try thousands of other methods when it failed.

Reid pushed Morgan and JJ away, taking the seat next to Garcia to try and find the hidden message.

“I’ve trained Aaron very well,” Jonathan commented. He was holding a gun. Hotch’s gun. Hotch’s back-up gun he’d kept holstered against his ankle ever since Adrian Bale had left him defenceless.

Under the table, Reid fiddled.

“What are you?” Jonathan asked Hotch.

“A narcissist,” Hotch replied, but there was something different about the way he said it when compared to earlier. Reid leant forward, determined to work it out.

“What are you?” he asked again, now pointing the gun at his head. Reid felt bile rise in his throat. It must have been like that for everyone else, watching him with Hankel.

“A bully.”

“And?”

“A drill sergeant.”

“He doesn’t believe what he’s saying,” Reid shouted, then covered his mouth, just in case Jonathan heard. But he was too busy taunting Hotch with the negative things that had been said about him.

“What?” Rossi asked.

“Look at his body language. He doesn’t believe it anymore. Emily convinced him. We just need to work out where he is. If he knows we love him, he won’t do anything stupid.”

Garcia started typing even more furiously.

“Tell them again what you are. Let them savour the moment. Let them always remember this as the moment where Aaron Hotchner finally admitted how dreadful he was.”

“I’ve got a location!” Garcia whispered. Everyone looked at each other, then nodded. Finkelstein and his team would arrest Jonathan and get Hotch out. They would follow as soon as the call had ended.

“I’m a narcissist. A bully. A drill sergeant. A sexist prick. A failure. And I’m rude.”

“I suppose you get the smallest amount of credit for admitting it. But it’s not enough to say it. I want you to prove it. Choose one of them to die.”

Reid dug his nails into the fabric of his trousers.

Hotch’s eyes widened, and for the first time his confidence wavered. “What?”

“You heard me. If you’re truly all of these things, choose one to die. Choose one of those team members that hate you so much to die by your own gun.”

“Come on Hotch. Give us that message that tells us how to get you out safely,” Reid muttered to himself.

Hotch wasn’t answering.

“Wasn’t Agent Reid in a similar situation to this? And didn’t he say that he chose Aaron Hotchner? That must have hurt.”

“It’s Doctor,” Hotch responded, voice weak, the adrenaline waring off as he lost more blood and as his previous injuries went untreated.

“Oh god,” JJ said, the first to realise his mistake.

Hotch’s eyes widened.

Jonathan smirked. “Oh dear. Have you been lying to me? Are you not actually these things?”

“Finkelstein is three minutes away,” Rossi updated.

“I am!” Hotch exclaimed. His voice was hoarse, his eyes glazed over and unfocused.

“Then choose.”

“No.”

“My patience grows thin Aaron. Choose.”

“Two minutes,” Rossi said.

“Hotch please,” Reid pleaded. JJ rubbed his shoulder, just as tense.

“I can’t,” Hotch said, pain starting to overwhelm him as he tried too hard to think of a solution.

“Do it,” Jonathan said, fingers fiddling with the trigger.

“I choose myself,” Hotch said.

“No,” Reid whispered. “There has to be a message somewhere in there. He said: it’s doctor, but before that he said what and after that he said no and- there’s no message. Rossi there’s no message. What are we supposed to do?”

“Finkelstein is a minute away. Hotch will keep him talking. And then we’ll get him back. I promise.”

“Why? Why do you choose yourself, when your team hate you?” Jonathan was angry and holding a gun. A dangerous combination at the best of times. But Hotch had no weapon. No vest.

Restrained and already weakened by his injuries.

“Because they don’t,” Hotch said.

“Yes they do,” Jonathan said through gritted teeth.

“They just need our signal to go in,” Rossi said.

“I can’t make that call,” Morgan confessed.

Rossi looked at him. “We can’t afford to wait.”

“No, they don’t. Your team did though, didn’t they? And then you lost your job for all the bad things you did and ended up being the victim of a person that was exactly the same as you had been. Aren’t I right? You’re not exactly hard to profile, I’ve just been waiting for the right moment.”

“How fucking dare you-” Jonathan started, then sighed. “I want you to tell me. Tell me why it should be you and not one of them.”

Rossi turned away. “Now.”

“Because they are my family. I love them unconditionally. And they love me back. And when you love your family, you do everything you can to keep them safe.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“They’re your family? Who love you?”

Aaron used the last of his strength to look up into his captor’s eyes. “And I love them.”

Jonathan hmmed.

The gunshot that rang out was nothing compared to Reid’s cry of horror.

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morceid · 4 years

Text

Apple Cider

SPENCER REID X DEREK MORGAN

Summary: Derek makes apple cider while Spencer sleeps through a nightmare

Word Count: 1040

Category: whump

Content Warnings: grief, kidnapping, loss, spoilers for season 2-12, drug use, anxiety, nightmares

A/N: i told you i was making apple cider

Spencer had nightmares. It was something common within the BAU. You spend all day chasing murderers, you’re gonna have dreams that they’re chasing you. Night terrors might have been a better word for what Spencer experienced. He went through five different stages during his dreams. Impending fear, the calm before the storm, downfall, false hope, and finally, he has to let go of it all.

Spencer knew that the nightmares were a metaphor for his life, but it was something he knew he would be working on forever, and that at the moment there would be nothing to do about it.

Usually Derek was there to wake him before downfall, but sometimes Spencer was too far into REM to be awoken and had already dissociated from the reality that he normally awoke to, which brings us to now.

Derek and Spencer decided to use their vacation days and rent out a cabin. It was nearing fall and the trees were turning orange, and the Virginia winds became colder. When they entered the cabin around noon after an entire night of driving, Derek decided to make some apple cider for the two of them. Spencer, who hadn’t gotten any sleep despite his position in the passenger seat, went straight for the bedroom and settled into the clean sheets, falling asleep instantly.

He was sitting in the passenger seat of a car again. He was smaller and felt more uncomfortable than before. Looking forward, the only thing for miles was the Las Vegas desert. A metaphor for his childhood and the impending fear he felt all through it.

Nothing really happened in this part of the nightmares. There was never anybody driving the car, just him sitting, waiting for the heavy machinery to swerve into the desert full of cacti and huge ravines that hid in every dune of sand. Occasionally he would begin to talk to himself. The only noise that he heard was “No Children” by The Mountain Goats blasting from the car radio. He usually turned it off after the song cycled through around three times. Lately he had just let it play, knowing and hoping Derek would be there to wake him soon, and he did this time too.

The calm before the storm was much quicker than impending fear. It mostly consisted of watching moments during college and his early years at the BAU. High school graduation, late nights studying, joking around with Derek and Elle in the bullpen, his date with JJ, and staying the night with Derek after he brought chinese food to his apartment. Everything he had grown to love about his life passed by as if on a screen in a movie theatre as “Dramamine” by Modest Mouse played in his head. It was Spencer’s muttering of familiar words that were in past conversations with Derek that caused him to be woken up by his partner on most nights, but now Derek was in the shower, the flowing water too loud to hear the words that had escaped Spencer’s mind through his mouth.

Downfall was the worst of them all. It seemed as though he was actually descending into a bottomless hole in the bed, much like the feeling you get right before drifting to sleep. Around him, seemingly on computer screens much like thrones in New York City, his memories of the shack in the graveyard played. HIs whole body panged with hurt all over. In the crook of his elbow, the soles of his feet, and the sides of his head. His stomach hurt and turned and twisted. He was cold and just wanted the warmth of his team to be there. This was when he thrashed in his sleep. He often woke up to Derek screaming his name in reassurance, but not now. Derek was at the dollar store they saw on the road to the cabin getting ingredients for an actual dinner that could be prepared and served with the cider. The images floating around Spencer began changing, to the first time he overdosed and Derek had to bring him to the hospital, to when he openly compared an arsonist to a drug addict in front of a police precinct full of officers, and to when he lashed out at Emily outside of a homeless shelter.

And then he was in a field of flowers. He wasn’t here very often but when he was he knew it wouldn’t last long. “pity party” by lovelytheband played on a loop, coming through nonexistent speakers. All the moments he had shared with the people in his life flashed through his mind as he walked through the field. All of the nights he had cuddling on the couch with Derek watching new episodes of Doctor Who while Penelope sat on a nearby chair, cooing at their closeness. All the times Emily got bored during a long night at work and threw Spencer a paper ball with her scribbly handwriting detailing what she was thinking about. Most of the time it was the dates she wanted to plan with JJ.

Spencer stopped walking and looked up. A cobblestone arch was before him. The last part of the nightmare. “LETTING GO” was in big block letters was written on the arch in russian. He looked down at his shoes. He had never gotten this far before, but he walked through the arch anyways. It led into a cemetery. Each headstone had the name of someone who had betrayed or abandoned him at some point. Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, William Reid, Maeve Donovan, and Alex Blake. There was a chess table in the middle of the six headstones. He walked over and sat down. He moved a white pawn, and a black pawn was moved on the other side of the table by no one. The game went on, and it seemed never ending. And it was.

“No, no, no!” Spencer cried out. He felt Derek’s hands on his forearms as he began to wake up.

“Hey, hey. Spencer, it’s okay.” Derek’s soothing voice gently rocked Spencer fully awake and calmed him down.

Then Spencer remembered. How could he forget the one good part of his nightmares?

“I finished the apple cider.”

The aftermath.

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unsubspodcast · 3 years

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Criminal Minds S1E1 FULL RECAP

LISTEN NOW

S1E1 - “Extreme Aggressor”

Heather Woodland sits in an office at her job, IMing with someone named Z4SALE about a car that Z4SALE is selling. A Datsun Z. (which is apparently a real car). Z4SALE says “Moving. Must sell ASAP. You up for a test drive?” And Heather is. We watched Heather meet Z4SALE whose face is obscured, and we watch her get into the car. Z4SALE then punches and abducts Heather.

Cut scene to Aaron Hotchner’s house where he is discussing baby names with his very pregnant wife Haley. He gets a phone call and a fax from the BAU. The fax shows a picture of Heather indicating that she is missing. FYI- I will be referring to each agent by their last name from here on out.

Cut scene to The Delicious Derek Morgan at a bar with a group of female FBI trainees, where he is drinking shots and discussing serial killers. HOT. He also gets a phone call from the BAU (Behavioral Analysis Unit). The caller ID literally says “BAU”.

Cut to Jason Gideon teaching a lecture on the Footpath Killer. We learn that before serial killers are identified, they are referred to as “unsubs” or “uknown subjects”. He discusses profiling the footpath killer, specifically that the unsub has a stutter. We also learn that Gideon has been on medical leave from the BAU due to a mysterious incident that occurred in Boston.

Spencer Reed pulls Gideon out of the class, and discusses the unsub masquerading as Z4SALE. Z4SALE is apparently a serial killer dubbed the “Seattle Strangler”. The Strangler keeps his victims for seven days and slowly suffocates them. Gideon is being brought out of medical leave to assist in solving the case.

Cut to Heather tied up and blindfolded in a cage being tortured by the Strangler. He cuts off her fingernails (gross) but don’t worry girl the BAU is coming!

The BAU arrive in Seattle. Morgan reveals to Reed that he has doubts about Gideon’s mental state. We also learn that Hotchner has been tasked with evaluating Gideon’s mental state or FBI headquarters. Morgan is revealed to be an expert on obsessional crimes, and Gideon makes sure everyone knows that Reed is a DR, not just a special agent, because Reed is young. We also learn that the BAU does not look at a suspect list until after they’ve created an unsub profile.

Hotchner and Reed go to Heather’s house to meet David Woodland. Whose relationships to Heather is unclear??? Reed notices that Heather was searching for a new car, specifically a Datsun Z. Reed deduces that Heather was likely kidnapped by whomever she was corresponding with in regards to the car.

Back at Seattle headquarters, Gideon is ready to give the profile. However, Morgan doubts the authenticity of the profile because of Gideon’s apparent mental illness. Gideon gives the profile anyway.

THE PROFILE PART 1

White/ late 20s

Someone you wouldn’t notice at first / blends in to the crowd

Violent nature of the crime suggests previous history- petty crimes/ auto theft

Organized killer

Psychopathic as opposed to psychotic* Follows the news - organized killers have a fascination with law enforcement. They will inject themselves into the investigation, come forward as witnesses to see just how much the police know, Gideon theorizes that they have already interviewed him.

Good hygiene

Smart - only physical evidence you find is what he wants you to find

Mobile - maybe Jeep Cherokee with tinted windows

Murders involved rape without penetration. Piquerism - sexually inadequate.

Paranoia stemming from a childhood trauma (death of a parent or family member)

He feels persecuted and watched. Murder gives him a sense of power.

We meet Elle Greenway. An undercover agent with a background in sex offender cases. [I met her in real life at Soprano Con]. She convinces Richard Slessman to accompany her to “her house” where he is arrested by the BAU task force. However, Grumpy Gideon is not impressed with Elle (guess they call her by her first name for some reason??). Morgan advises her to “show a little leg”, and she immediately rebuffs him. There is a position open in the BAU, and she’s angling for it.

The BAU quickly learns that their profile does not match Slessman, because Slessman has a submissive personality. Slessman tries to convince them that he has multiple personality disorder, but they realize that there must be a second unsub working with him. There’s also a scene in which Mandy Patankin really struggles with the word “Woodlawn”.

Morgan enters Richard Slessman’s room and says “Something’s not right about this, this is a boy’s room, not a man’s.” Which is pretty dated. I know Morgan seems problematic but he is literally one of the best characters on this show I promise you. There’s a false password on Slessman’s computer, and the boardgame “go” which is set up as if someone is halfway through a game. From Wikipedia: Go is an abstract strategy board game for two players in which the aim is to surround more territory than the opponent. The game was invented in China more than 2,500 years ago and is believed to be the oldest board game continuously played to the present day. Reed analyzes the baord which shows that Slessman has been playing himself and using the “extreme aggressor” technique.

PROFILE PART 2

Two unsubs

Submissive and dominant personality

Slessman is the submissive- smart

??? is the dominant- schoolyard bully, protective of Slessman

Elle and Gideon want to question Charlie Linder, who was Slessman’s cellmate at a prison called Arcadia. Just want to note that Arcadia is not the name of the prison in Seattle, it’s actually called “FDC” (Federal Detention Center). FDC has a 3.7 rating on Indeed.com where one upset reviewer wrote: “I have never seen such a group of managers who have no clue what they are doing. Somehow the place keeps on chugging along.” There is a prison located in Arcadia Florida called the “Desoto Annex” which has a 3.8 on Indeed.com where one happy reviewer wrote: “finding ones self and self worth while working amongst the most diverse group of individuals one could ever imagine.” From what I can find there is no Arcadia prison irl.

But I digress… It isn’t until after they arrive at Arccadia that they discover that Linder has been dead for two months. Instead they question Tim Vogel, the security guard on Slessman’s old unit. They talk to him for like two seconds before deciding that Vogel must be the second Unsub, because he has Datsun Z keys. Elle and Gideon tail Vogel’s Datsun Z after he leaves work for the day, but discover that Vogel has switched cars with a coworker.

Meanwhile, we meet Penelope Garcia who introduces herself as “Penelope Garcia from the Office of Supreme Genius”. She is basically like the BAU’s Alexa. Morgan is trying to break the password on Slessman’s computer, and Garcia advises him that Slessman’s password encryption software is too complicated and that he will have to figure out another way to gain access to the computer.

Morgan deduces that Slessman is an insomniac, and that he must listen to music while trying to fall asleep. Reed joins him in sifting through Slessman’s CDs, they find that the password for Slessman’s computer is the Metallica song “Enter Sandman”. But apparently the album Reed shows Morgan is “Some Kind of Monster”, which does not have the “Enter Sandman” track on it. “Enter Sandman” is on the self-tilted Metallica album from 1991.

Fun fact - I read somewhere that if you need to fall asleep to music/videos/etc you are more likely to have sociopathic tendencies - IDK how legit this study was, but its very interesting.

Anyways… They uncover a live feed of Heather in captivity. They determine that she’s on a boat in a shipyard, which we later learn is the Allied Shipyard. Between Arcaddia the Prison and the Allied Shipyard, writer Mark Cabot must really like the letter A…

Back in Seattle Headquarters, Hotchner convinces Slessman to give up Vogel. Gideon and Elle hurry to the shipyard to save Heather. Gideon arrives just in time to rescue Heather from Vogel. Vogel shoots Gideon and then Elle shoots Vogel. Gideon is wearing a bulletproof vest though so he is okay. CM episodes usually end on a plane, and this one is no different. Gideon does a weird old man voice when asking Hotchner about the report that Hotchner has been writing on Gideon’s mental state. “Didn’t think you could hide that from an old profiler did ya?” Why. Just. Why?

But the episode is not over! We see a flashback to Gideon at a gas station where the attendant has a stutter and there are tons of polaroids of people hung up behind him? Not sure if they’re shoplifters or what?? Gideon realizes that this attendant i the Towpath Killer, and the episode ends with the killer pulling a shotgun on him.’

Rating Criteria

Criminal/Serial Killer: 10/20

Character development/ character arcs: 15/20

Forensics/Context: 10/20

Script writing: 10/20

Background characters: 8/20

Overall: 53/100

#criminal minds #criminal minds season 1 recap #criminal minds season 1 episode 1 recap #criminal minds extreme aggressor #criminal minds season 1 episode 1 #violence #gore #rape #serial killers #kidnapping

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baukitten · 3 years

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@writinghannibal asked : hc + loss

she knows it too well , from too young . she’s freshly eighteen when her mother and stepfather die in a car crash while they’re out looking for her . all because she’d snuck out to a party & when she’d gotten home all four of her brothers had looked at her with pitying accusation . she loses them that night too . & she’s alone after that for a long time , even with shane she’s alone . until she ‘ joins ‘ the bau & she keeps them at arms length because she shouldn’t be there , shouldn’t have been given this chance , until she just can’t anymore . gideon is the first loss she feels in ten years & it hurts . he’s alive , but gone & it hurts so bad . then jj . emily , the first time . ashley . alex . kate . derek . aaron . stephen , god , losing stephen cuts her to her very soul . she loses her confidence after the fisher king uses her to hurt elle & the replicator does the same years later . she loses her security after jason clark battle shoots her in her own courtyard & the cult kidnaps her & spencer from the very place she feels the safest . she loses her support group when bill rogers uses her to get to monica . she loses so much that she’s not sure how she’s standing up sometimes . she still does it though . still makes the world a better place the only way she knows how , still hoping & loving & living despite it all .

#* 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒. ›› answered.#* 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑦. ›› headcanon.#writinghannibal

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emberfrostlovesloki · 4 years

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To Be Held Chapter 2 - Running Out

Here is chapter two!

Chapter warnings: Description of kidnapping. Mention of torture. Homophobic ideology. Description of sexual assault.

Spencer was on his side sleeping when his phone rang with a piercing shrill. He rolled onto his back, and he extended his long arm out to reach the phone on the bedside table. He didn’t even look at the name when he answered, “Reid here.” When he heard the voice of Garcia he sat up, suddenly awake. “Hey genius. Sorry for disturbing your beauty sleep, but I got your girl. “Give me a second.” Spencer said while turning on the lamp above his bed. The light hurt his eyes. He grabbed his notepad and a pen and sat down cross legged on the mattress. “I’m ready.” “Well, Venus Rising’s other name is Levi Hill. She’s an English lecturer at...” Before Penelope could get the rest of her sentence out Spencer filled in the last few words with, “Washington State University.” The computer whiz laughed and responded with, “Bingo. She teaches Queer theory, a class on Milton, and early British literature.” Spencer jotted down the information, and asked, “How long has she been teaching in Washington?” “Three years. It looks like she moved here from Ohio after getting her masters degree at Notre Dame. She’s twenty three, and before you ask, she doesn’t have a big social media presence, so I can’t find that much more about her.” Spencer replied to this tide of information with, “You did a great job Garcia. With this information we have a connection between Mr. Pyne at the university and Ms. Grost at Fantasy Girls.” Spencer was always impressed by Penelope, and sometimes he was scared of her too. “Anything for a fellow friend with a superior intellect.” Garcia said, then continued by saying, “I’ve sent Ms. Hill’s profile from Washington State over to you, along with her LinkedIn, and just for a bonus, her dissertation. One last thing you might want to know, pretty boy, she’s got office hours at 1:00 tomorrow, office number 212.” Spencer checked his email and found the attachments. “Thanks again.” Spencer said. Garcia replied happily, “No problem, now it’s my time for my beauty sleep.” The line dropped, and Spencer ran his hand through his hair. The clock read 5:00 A.M. ‘At least I have a few hours to read over this material’ Spencer mused. He grabbed his glasses off the table. Got up and started making some of the lousy instant coffee. It was going to be a long day.

The team entered the East precinct of the Seattle Police Department at 8:00 A.M. No one had really slept, which was usual in an active case. J.J. kindly handed Hotch, Gideon and Spencer a cup of coffee before pouring her own. As the coffee crew assembled around the milk and sugar. Gideon was adding a packet of sugar and stated, “This unsub feels very unstable to me, yet he’s methodical and calculated. It doesn’t make sense.” Hotch looked up from stirring the milk into his coffee and replied, “The unsub must be mission-oriented. We’re looking for someone that has a problem with religion or politics. He probably holds extreme beliefs.” The four members of the BAU moved into the room they had set up in and jumped into their assignments. Hotchner started by saying “I’m meeting Mr. and Mrs. Pyne at 10:00 A.M. today. Elle, will you come with me?” Elle nodded and said, “Of course.” Gideon then said, “I’m going down to the coroner's office to look at the death certificates of the victims, then I’ll go over to the forensic labs that ran the test on the orange fibers found at the scene. Spencer will join me. I might need your expertise at the lab.” “Actually I’m meeting a potential target that the unsub might have had contact with. Her name is Levi Hill. She’s a professor at Washington State, and an employee of Fantasy Girls.” The team looked at him, surprised that he had found a connection between the two victims. Spencer continued, “I was hoping J.J. would go with me. I’ll go to the coroner’s office with you, but Ms. Hill’s office hours are at 1:00 P.M. and I plan on being on time.” Gideon chuckled that Spencer hadn’t just said he couldn’t go with him to the lab. But Jason also knew that Spencer didn’t like conflict and avoided it when possible. He smiled at the genius while saying, “Sounds like a plan.” J.J. finished the conversation by saying, “I’ve set up a press conference at 5:00 P.M. today. The media is getting restless and it would be best if we give them, and the police a profile by then.” The team grouped up and into their assignments and headed out to the cars.

Mr. and Mrs. Pyne lived in a modest house on the edge of town. Hotchner and Elle were seated on a couch which faced another couch facing them, where the Pyne’s sat. Pictures were spread across the coffee table that showed Jefferson Pyne; the photos ranged from the smiling blond haired boy as a child to an adult version of the child standing outside of a dorm on the Washington State campus. “So, Mrs. Pyne, you said that Jefferson was doing well in school? Did you notice any changes in him in his sophomore year? Were there people who disliked your son?” Mrs. Pyne swallowed and wiped at a tear that fell down her face. Before she responded Mr. Pyne squeezed her hand reassuringly. She started by saying, “Jefferson excelled in school. He loved living in the dorms and meeting new people. During his freshman year he came out as gay.” Before Mrs. Pyne could continue, Hotchner interjected, “And how did you react to your son’s coming out?” Mr. Pyne smiled a little and said, “We try to be very open in this household. We told our son when he was younger that he could love anyone he wanted when he grew up.” After Mr. Pyne finished answering the question his wife continued by saying, “I was so proud of him the day he told me that he was gay, so, so proud.” Mrs. Pyne then bent over with a sob. She tried to hold back her tears, but they flowed down her cheeks. Mr. Pyne held her close to him and continued answering the questions with, “In Jefferson’s sophomore year he moved back home and commuted to school everyday. He wanted to live in an apartment, but we were having some financial troubles and it would be much cheaper. Mr. Pyne stood, allowing his wife to sit and gather her emotions. He gestured for Elle and Hotch to follow him. The trio walked up the stairs to the second story of the house. Mr. Pyne opened the second door on the left and said, “This room was Jefferson’s. We haven’t moved much in here except for some of the photos you saw downstairs. We’ll be downstairs, take all the time you need.” Mr. Pyne stepped out of the room and walked down the stairs, and went back in the direction of Mrs. Pyne.

The bedroom had a bed, desk and lamp. A pride flag adorned the wall next to a BYX banner. Hotch looked around the room and noticed the banner. “What fraternity is BYX? I haven’t heard of it before?” He looked to Elle. She was examining the book shelf that held a lot of college textbooks. She replied, “BYX stands for Brothers Under Christ. It’s a Christian fraternity that is known for their service to the community.” Elle didn’t know how much she believed in Christian fraternities or sororities, but she had a feeling about Jefferson. She told Hotch, “I don’t see anything suspicious about this kid. I suppose that he could be getting some backlash for coming out, but other than that, I don’t think he had enemies.” Hotch replied, “I agree. The parents don’t seem like likely suspects. Let’s go down and look at Jefferson’s laptop. If he was getting hate for being gay we might see it online.” The pair of agents stepped out of the room. Elle gingerly closed the door to Jefferson’s room and followed Aaron down the stairs into the living room.

The coroner’s office was very cold inside. Spencer folded his arms over his chest. Conserving the heat between his arms, shirt and maroon vest, and his body. After a minute an older man walked toward them. The man extended a hand toward Jason and said, “I’m doctor Stanley. I examined the bodies and wrote the cause of death” Gideon retracted his hand and said, “My name is Agent Gideon, and this is Dr. Reid.” Dr. Stanley took the time to look at Reid with unbelief. Stanley even rolled his eyes until Jason asked, “Do you have the files on Mr. Pyne and Ms. Grost ready for us?” The older doctor said, “Follow me.” He turned on his heel and walked quickly down a white tiled hallway. Spencer and Gideon followed behind him. Stanley unlocked a room that held a metal table and chairs. On the table lay two files. Stanley said, “Here are the files, if you have any questions you can page me.” With that being said the coroner walked away. Reid couldn’t help but sarcastically say, “What a professional man.” Gideon replied, “Agreed.” In the same tone as Spencer. The two men sat down, each grabbing a file off the table. After fifteen minutes of silently reading Spencer found something odd in the report on Ms. Grost. “Gideon, it says in the report that we got at headquarters that she had been raped. In Dr. Stanley’s report he only states that “‘the body was bruised in the primary sexual organs. If she was raped, why wouldn’t he have written that?” Gideon looked at the page that Spencer had handed him and replied, “Let’s find out,” while punching the button to Dr. Stanley’s pager.

Stanley walked reluctantly into the room with Spencer and Gideon. “Did you have a question?” the older man asked with condescension, looking at Spencer as he asked. Spencer looked back at the doctor unfazed and said, “I was wondering why in one report rape was explicitly stated, but in your analysis of the body you don’t?” Stanley cleared his throat and responded by saying, “The body hadn’t been penetrated by male genitalia. It was clear that an object was used. Under certain definitions that would not be considered rape.” Spencer looked a little sick at this information, and Gideon was angry. Jason stood, holding the page in his hand pushing it in front of the coroner. “You didn’t think it was important to tell us that the victim had been raped with an object instead of a dick.” Gideon breathed out harshly and turned to Spencer saying, “We have the information we need. Let’s go.” Jason’s tone calmed when he looked at Reid. Reid made him feel like a father again, and he couldn't let himself be mad around the younger agent. Spencer stood and neatly placed the folders on top of eachother on the table. As He and Gideon walked toward the door. Before Reid left the room he turned to Dr. Stanley and stated cooly, “I’ll be talking to your superior when this is over, about your apparent lack of empathy and understanding of medical terms dealing with trauma.” With that Spencer turned on his heel and left the cold room behind. As he and Gideon walked to the car Reid took a moment to close his eyes and feel the sun on his skin. The long night was getting to him.

In an unknown location a cabin surrounded by trees came to life with a shrill cry. Inside a man was tied to a wooden table. His legs and arms were bound in the shape of the cross. A figure dangled a cross above the body of the man who was tied down. “God told me that I should give you the chance to repent. You claim to be a man of God, preaching his word to those people who will burn in hell. It’s heretical!” The tormented man breathed laboredly, and coughed up some blood. The man stammered out shakely, “God states that he loves all people. Therefore I practice giving love to all people .” The man standing over the preacher laughed grimily and responded to his captive comment by saying, “God said that there would be false teachers in the end times, what a blessing I’ve found one. Now repent, or I’ll send you to the pit.” The preacher couldn’t say anymore, he was in so much pain that his mind couldn’t put words together anymore. Before the pastor passed out from the exhaustion of his position, he thought, ‘Lord save me. Lord.”

Gideon dropped Spencer off outside the main campus of Washington State University. Just as Spencer got to the student union he spotted J.J. standing outside the campus bookstore. When J.J. noticed him, she walked to him, and he asked, “How was it today in the station?” J.J. sighed at the memory and said, “The press had so many questions that are going to be answered in four hours if they were just patient. Instead I was forced to copy and paste the same response to fifteen different outlets.” Spencer had spotted the coffee shop above the bookstore and checked his watch, which read 12:25 P.M. “That does sound very boring. How would you feel about grabbing a coffee before going to office hours?” J.J. smiled at the idea and agreed. The two of them climbed the stairs. The date to the football game had made it clear that she and Spencer weren’t meant for eachother. But that didn’t invalidate their friendship. With coffees in hand the duo from the BAU found the English building and waited outside office 212. Spencer was leaning against the doorframe reading a basic philosophy book when he heard footsteps coming their way. He closed the book and stashed in his shoulder bag. The young women who walked toward her office didn’t look like what J.J. or Spencer had expected. “May I help you?” Professor Hill asked as she attempted to grab the keys to her office while holding a large box of blue exam books. Spencer pulled out his badge and said, “I’m Dr. Reid and this is agent Jareau. We’re from the Behavior Analysis Unit from the FBI. We have a few questions for you profesor Hill.” Ms. Hill looked surprised for a second, but she quickly replied with, “It’s nice to meet you Dr. Reid, and you agent Jareau. If you give me a second, we can go into my office. I’m happy to answer any questions you have.” Spencer quickly put his badge away and offered to hold the blue books. With the package out of her hands, Ms. Hill was able to grab her keys from her backpack and quickly unlocked the door to her office. She flipped on an office light and plugged in two lamps on each side of the desk, lastly she pulled a chair from one wall and placed it next to another chair at the desk. After she had finished all this she said, “Come in.” J.J. went in and took a seat, Spencer followed. He shut the door to the office with his foot, still holding the box of empty exam books. “I can take those now, thank you.” She took the box out of Spencer’s hands and placed it on an empty shelf of an overflowing bookcase. She sighed at the sight of the exams and then sat in the chair across from the agents, just as Spencer took his seat.

With notepad and pen at the ready Spencer began the interview with, “How long have you been living in Seattle Professor Hill?” Ms. Hill replied, “I’ve been living here for three years now. I was offered an adjunct position at the university during my final semester at Notre Dame.” Next, J.J. asked, “When did you start working at Fantasy Girls?” At this question Hill’s eyes briefly glanced over to her Master’s degree hanging on the wall before she looked at J.J. and said, “My second semester of teaching at this university made me realize that I wasn’t going to pay off my student loans as a professor. Even with financial aid and scholarships my debt after school was more than I could pay off in twenty years with my current position. In December I got an advancement in the University and I signed up to work at Fantasy Girls.” Spencer nodded his head at hearing about needing to pay off debt. Although he was fortunate that his parents had paid for his education, he knew people that were consumed with debt for the rest of their lives, it destroyed them. Spencer continued the conversation by inquiring, “Were you friends with Sydney Grost, or was she just a colleague?” Hill smiled at the question and said, “I remember my first night hosting; I had a client that was very insistent that I go back to his apartment with him. Well Sydney walked over to him and said, “‘If you keep harassing her, I’ll go over to your apartment and break every window I see with a brick.’” Sydney was very protective of all the girls. She and I worked a lot of jobs together and we’d always get coffee at the end of the night. Sit and talk about what we were doing tomorrow. She was great.” As Hill finished the answer she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. It was clearly an attempt to stop herself from crying. Spencer looked away from the professor for a second too, not wanting to make her feel awkward. J.J. then asked kindly, “I know this is a sensitive question, but have you, Sydney, or any other women you work with gone back to a client’s apartment or house?” Ms. Hill ran her hand through her short hair. She took another breath and looked at J.J, and said, “The people I work with, they're like a family. We see each other at least three times a week. We see each other nude, or almost nude, and we complain about our lives. Whether or not some of the escorts have worked in that way I can’t say with certainty. We have to have some boundaries and that’s one of them.” She looked to J.J. to see if that was enough, “I’m sorry I have to ask this, but have you solicited sex after work?” J.J. did feel horrible having to ask a question like that. The blond agent knew that the work paid and therefore had to ask. Hill shook her head before answering, “No. I’ve never wanted to risk my position, not even for that much money.” J.J. nodded and jotted down the answer. Spencer placed his head on the side of his hand and tried to think of something he was forgetting. He thought for a moment, and then he it hit him, “‘social media.’” After realizing there was something strange about the professor’s media he quickly asked, “You don’t really have any social media. Is there someone you’re trying to avoid, or get away from?” Ms. Hill replied, “Being an escort isn’t really seen as a moral profession. If anyone found out what I do I’d lose my job, my friends in church and the opportunities I might have once I can move forward from here. The only person I’m trying to actively avoid is my father, but he lives in Florida, so I doubt he’s trying to find out where I am.” J.J. then said, “I think you’ve given us a lot of good information Professor Hill. I know you have class in twenty minutes. We’ll get out of your hair and let you get ready for that. Thank you so much for your time.” Ms. Hill smiled and wrote something down on a sticky note. As she handed the note to J.J. she said, “Here’s my cell number, email, and schedule for my other job. I hope you find the person who’s doing this, and stay safe.” When she finished saying this she stood and extended her hand to J.J. and Spencer. The FBI agents stood and Spencer opened the door for J.J. As the blond agent stepped out Spence pulled out his card and handed it to Hill and said, “If you see anything weird, or you feel unsafe, feel free to call me.” Ms. Hill smiled and said, “Thank you Dr. Reid.”

Gideon had picked up the results from the orange fibers. They had from a basic rope and could be bought at any hardware store in town. Although that lead had been disappointing Jason hoped that once Reid had a loot at the retort he would have more input on the evidence. As he was leaving the lab he got a call from Chief Best. “Gideon here.” The leader of the BAU listened for a moment before quickly picking up the forensic evidence and ran out of the lab. As he slid the seat of his car Jason replied to the police chief by saying, “I’ll let the team know, and I’m headed to the house right now.

The latest crime scene had new features that the others had not. Firstly, it was fresher than the other scenes. Secondly the victim had enemies in the community. James Reeve was a pastor and had been scrutinized by some of the other churches for teaching a doctrine of tolerance for some communities often marginalized by denominations of the Christian faith. As Morgan walked around the room he commented, “Reeve’s church is close to the Washington State Campus. It’s the central point to all of these cases.” Reid was confused by the new victim and said, “Why would the unsub take a college pastor? It doesn’t fit the profile. It’s likely the unsub is around the same age as Mr. Reeve. There seem to be a thousand directions this case could go.” Hotchern replied, “If the unsub is changing his targets every time he finds a new victim he could be trying to throw us off the trail. Or maybe he’s becoming more unstable. Afterall, this is the first time that he’s shown a sign of forced entry.” Gideon looked up from the door that had been forced open and said, “I’m certain that all of these victims are related in some way. The unsub is just getting bolder, braver with his abductions. I think that he’s making his final preparations for an important kill. We have to go back to the station and give a profile. Once the officers have it we need everyone looking for a person that meets the profile. We’re running out of time.”

#criminal minds #j.j #elle greenaway #aaron hotchner #jason gideon #spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #fanfiction

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slowlyfantasticfart · 4 years

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MES FILMS. MES SÉRIES ET MON PLAISIR.

Il y a beaucoup d'acteurs et d'actrices que j'aime beaucoup et que j'admire énormément et parmi cette liste il y a ACTEURS Johnny Deep Paul Walker Channing Tatum Robin Williams Adam Slander Jason Stanham Dwyane Johnson Kellan Lutz Chris Hemsworth Liam Hemsworth Heat Ledger Nicholas Cage Liam Neeson Brad Pitt Tom cruise steve Martin James Franco James Marsden ACTRICES Katherine Heighl Rachel Mc Adams Zoe Saldana Mila Kunis Anne Hathaway Drew Barrymore Jennifer Lopez Jessica Alba Scarlett Johansson Natalie Portman Reese Witherspoon Sandra Bullock Julia Roberts Cameron Diaz J'aime beaucoup le domaine du cinéma, c'est une passion c'est quelque chose que j'aime quand je veut relaxer. N'es ce pas réconfortant. Ici je me suis fait tout un répertoire de film de tout les genre vous y voyez tout un choix films et de série que j'ai beaucoup aimer alors l'es voici. HORREUR Annabelle série Us La conjuration série Ma Silence Dead (Silence de mort) Malédiction de l'enfer (Drag Me to Hell) Le cauchemar de Molly Hartley 2008 Le bal de l'horreur (Prom Night) 2008 Terreur sur la ligne (When a stranger calls) A Qiet Place (Un coin tranquille) Ça, Dans le noir One missed Call (Un appel manqué) Mortelle St Valentin Instinct de survie Visions, Ouija Ne t'endors pas Poltergeist Sinistre 1 Jessabelle Mama insidous 2,3,4 I Still I Know what you did last summer Halloween Chucky Jaws (les dents de la mer) Scream (Frisson) 1,2,3,4 N'aie pas peur du noir Freddy Krueger les griffes de la nuit (2010) Boogeyman Apparence Meurtre a la St Valentin destination ultime (Final Destination) La maison de cire The darkness Jeepers creepers SCIENCE FICTION ET FANTASTIQUE Les animeaux fantastique 1,2 La momie, Thor La belle et la bête le film Le livre de la jungle le film Coeur d'encre Pan, Pete's Dragon (Peter Elliot et le dragon) Oz le magnifique Alice au pays des merveilles 1,2 Percy Jackson 1 et 2 Chronique de narnia 1,2,3 Légende 1985 Merlin 1998 Casper, Maléfique Le labyrinthe de pan Le cygne noir (2011) Harry Potter série Bright Les gardiens de la galaxie 1,2 L'ascension de Jupiter A-X-L Transformers Armageddon Le jour d'après La stratégie Ender X-Men Life, Prometheus Alien, Passager La guerre des mondes La stratégie d'enfer La série Star Was Chappie Le chaos La guerre des mondes COMÉDIE DE FILLE Année bixestille Le journal d'une princesse 1, 2 Gagner un rendez vous avec Tad Hamilton 13 ans bientot 30 Elle a tout pour elle, Monte Carlo The Parent Trap Sweet Home Alabama, Le prince et moi Et si c'était vrai, Un amour infini Comment perdre son mec en 10 jours Something Borrowed (Duos en trois) Le mariage de mon meilleur ami 27 Robes Les douzes coups de minuit Ma belle est un monstre La fille du président Éloge de la liberté Blonde et légale Méchantes Ados Bring It On (Le tout pour le tout) 1,2,3,4,5 Lettre a Juliette Le diable s'habille en prada Confession d'une accro du shopping Profession hôtesse de l'air Julie & Julia Meilleure ennemies Because I Said So (Cherche homme parfait) Sexfriends, Sexe entre amis A Cinderella Story ACTION ET AVENTURE 300 1 et 2 Rambo : la dernière mission Le casse noisette et les quatres royaumes (The Nutcraker an... Un raccourci dans le temps ( A Wrinkle on Time) Aquaman Venom Le masque de Zorro série Mission impossible série Bumblebee Divergence série Spider Man série Charlie's Angel série Hancok The Island Jumanji 1,2 Life of Pie San Andreas Pacifim Rim 1 et 2 Voyage au centre de la terre 1 et 2 Les aventures de Tintin : Le secret de la licorne Jurassic World série John Wick 1,2 The Equalizer 1,2 Skyscraper (Gratte Ciel) Ant-Man et guêpe (Ant-Man and the Wasp 1,2 Mégalodon (The Meg) Peppermint (Déchainée) La légende d'Hercule, Lara Lara Croft: Tomb Raider Parker Trésor National 1,2 Fast Furious 4,5,6,7,8 le 1 et 2 (version française Rapide et Dangereux) Blanche neige et le chasseur 1 et 2 Mr. S Smith Bleu d'enfer Le mécano : la résurrection 47 Ronin Tigre et dragon Jake Ryan Le gardien Die Hard Rampage Maraudeurs Top Gun (1986) Underworld V for Vendetta ENFANT ET FAMILLE Dora et la cité perdue UglyDolls Jack Frost (1998) Free Willy The Polar Express (Boréal Express) Une nuit au musée Moins Cher La Douzaine 1 et 2 The Lizzie McGuire Movie Hanna Montana: The Movie Une princesse sur la glace Nancy Drew Les 101 Dalmatien Happy Family Pierre Lapin Enchantés Stailion Benji Mes vies de chiens 1,2 Whisper série L'incroyable histoire de Winter le dauphin 1,et 2 Tobby The Amazing Penda Le dragon des mers Chérie j'ai agrandi le bébé The House With a Clock In its Walls Incredibles 1 et 2 DRAME The lake house (La maison près du lac) La série Twilight Salt À Cinq pied de toi (Five feet Apart Midnight Sun (Soleil de minuit) A Star is Born (Une étoile est née) Forever my Girl Beastly (Sortilège) Gold Diggers: The Secret of Bear Mountain 1995 Crossroads (A la croisé des chemins) 2002 Stepmom (La blonde a mon père) Match Point Doux Novembre The Roommate The Other Woman Red Eye (Vol sous haute pression) Flight Plan (Plan de Vol) My Girl (L'été de mes 11 ans) L'arrivée (Arrival) Sully Wicker Park Pearl Harbor P.S. I love You Le porte bonheur (The Lucky One) Tristan & Yseult Le secret de Charlie Hors du temps The Lovely Bones The Notebook Remember Me (La rage de vivre) A Walk To Remember (Une promenade Inoubliable) Une bouteille a la mer Coyote Ugly Apparitions (Libelule) La maison sur la falaise Flicka Sexe Intemtions Black Swan Ou le coeur nous mène Brothers FILM DISNEY À MONSIEUR Dumbo The Lion King Maléfique FILM D'ANIMATION Tout ce qui est film d'animation de Walt Disney, Dream Works. Peut importe, c'est les films que je préfère écouter. Quand j'étais enfant, je me souviendrai toujours à quel point, que j'ai eu beaucoup de plaisir à l'es écouter en boucle. Et encore aujourd'hui, j'ai du plaisir à l'es regarder. C'est des film qui sont réconfortant mais aussi que du bonheur. ANIMATION Ballerina La reine des neiges Coraline Kung fu Penda Rebelle (Brave) Dragon Hôtel Transylvanie Ratatouille Volt L'ère de glace La belle et la bête La petite sirène Pocahontas Cendrillon Le roi Lion Aladdin La princesse des cygnes 1 Le livre de la jungle Moana Abominable Storks Raiponce La princesse et la grenouille Zootopia Lilo et Stich La route d`Eldorado Rox et Rouky Spirit L'empereur du nouveau genre Le chat potté Drôle d'abeille Planet 51 THRILLER The Boy Next Door (2015) La prison de verre Fenêtre secrète The tourist Before I Fall Truth Or Dannce Le beau père (The Stepfather) Sans un bruit 2:22 Kidnap Home Invasion Get Out Sex Crimes COMÉDIE MUSICALE Heartbeats High Strung, Mamma Mia 1,2 Dirty Dancing 1,2 Honey 1,2 The Fame La série Step Up Footloose Romance Titanic Nos étoiles contraires Le voeux un été sur terre The longuest Ride (Le plus beau des chemins) Une seconde chance, Un havre de paix Cher John Everything, Everything Cinquante nuances plus sombres, 10 choses que je déteste de toi Get Over It, Adaline Bleu Saphir Cendrillon Amour et honneur Twilight Fascination A tout les garçons que j'ai aimés Love Simon À tout jamais 1998 COMÉDIE Sex and the City Simplement Irrésistible (Simply Irresistible) 1999 Miss congeniality (Miss personnalité) Patch Adams In Good Company, (En bonne compagnie) Never Been Kissed Home Alone (Maman j'ai ratée l'avion 1,2,3 Dr. Seus 'How the grinch Stole Christmas Le lutin (Elf) Madame Doubtfire The Santa Clause What a Girl Wants Pyjamas Party Sisterhood of the traveling pants New York Minute (Escapade à New York) Clic Bay Watch Game Night l'Abominable vérité Pas si simple Baby boss Book Club Drink, Slay, Love Mère indigne 1 et 2 Pourquoi lui ? Le stagiaire Famille recomposée Joue-la comme Beckham De père en flic 1,2 Intouchable Chérie nous avons été rétrécis Papa, j'ai une maman pour toi (It Takes Two) 1995 Little Giants Back to the Future Trilogy Encore 17 ans (17 Again) Grandes personnes Just Go With It (méchant menteur) LES MEILLEURES SÉRIES QUE J'AI ÉCOUTER Buffy contre les vampires Charmed 2018 Charmed Le chalet Chicago fire Dawson Dexter Elite Everwood Greenhouse Académie Good Witch (un soupçon de magie) Gossip Girl Grimm Gilmore Girls Heroes Izombie Jane the Virgin Lucifer Nashville Newport Beach Once Upon A Time Orange the new Black Prison Break Pretty Little Liars Riverdale Stranger things Scream Shadow Hunters Sense 8 Supernatural (Surnaturel) Switched at Birth Teen Wolf True Blood That' 70s Show Thirteen Reason Why - 13 Raisons Vampire Diaries PALMARÈS DE MES MEILLEURES FILMS Tout les films de Nicholas Sparks Le mariage de mon meilleur ami La blonde a mon père Titanic L'homme au masque de fer High Strung L'été de mes 11 ans Crossroad Le secret de bear mountain Un baiser enfin Coraline Miss personnalité A tout jamais (1998) Le jour d'après La belle et la bête (film à monsieur) La reine des neiges Ballerina Le livre de la jungle(film à monsieur) Fenêtre Secrète AUTRES SÉRIES À DÉCOUVRIR Younger Scandal Murder Revenge Beauté Désespérées Hart of Dixie gg

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xthefandomequestrianx · 5 years

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Psycho - Chapter 1

I have no idea where to post this but I want to get it out of my folder!

A/N: Yes, I am aware that this is not quite how things happened chronologically. For the sake of the fic, we’re going to pretend that Elle went to Allie and begged to be arrested pretty soon after Dewey’s execution. Kay? Kay. Also I’m not a huge Will fan so he’ll be meh in this. Sorry.

Trigger warnings: injuries, torture, abuse, Campbell is a jerk, swearing because they swear like every line, slight mention of rape

Ship(s): Allie and pretty much everyone (platonically), Allie x Harry, Allie & Grizz (as a brotp)

Chapter 1

Allie winced as she felt a large chunk of her thumb nail rip off, before the stinging sensation of air hitting an open wound filled her senses. She’d been trying to wear through the rope tightly binding her wrists behind her back, but obviously had no such luck.

The day had started out normal, as any other day. She skipped breakfast in favor of a quick check up on Harry, whom anyone had yet to manage to drag out of his depressive state. After her doling out her tough love, he did start working again, though very reluctantly and lacking any effort. Then she’d gone back home and talked extensively with Will and Gordy about the issues of water and electricity - namely, how they would check if they were in danger of running out. Then lunch, where she had a nice conversation with Helena that for once did not revolve around politics. She’d only slipped away for a second to use the bathroom when suddenly he was there, knocking her out with a crowbar and stuffing her in his car.

And that was the quickly-escalating, climactic story of how she’d wound up in Campbell Eliot’s basement.

She knew why she was here, of course. He wanted to force Elle back home, where he could continue to control and abuse her. How he figured he would accomplish this by kidnapping her was uncertain, but she knew his end goal.

“Hey there, princess,” he traipsed down the steps into the basement. “Enjoying your stay?”

She glared at him. “I’m not your house guest, Campbell. You kidnapped me. Get to the point.”

“Feisty. Strong,” he smirked. “Every bit the leader. Except for this time, you get to be my captive. How does it feel?”

“What do you want?” she restated, biting out the words. Perhaps she was being dumb, speaking to him in such a tone while he clearly held the upper hand in this scenario. God, she wished for the Guard to notice her absence. But she’d only been awake for about fifteen minutes, plus about half an hour of being unconscious, she’d guess. Unfortunately, the former West Ham football team didn’t have enough experience in detective work to solve that one in forty five minutes.

“I am asking the questions, here!” He growled. “Tell me, Allie. How. Does. It. Feel?”

She caught a glint of something under his jacket sleeve. Brass knuckles. Fuck.

“Cold,” she said simply. He’d taken most of her outerwear, leaving her in leggings and a t-shirt.

“Not the answer I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. Was that so hard?” His smirk widened - the sick bastard was clearly enjoying this.

She’d been told he was a psychopath, heard the things he had done to Elle, and seen him be an asshole on more occasions than she could count. But this was an entirely new side to him that she had yet to see. It truly scared her, rattled her insides. The word psychopath gained a whole new meaning. “What do you want?” she repeated. Her voice trembled, but she pretended not to notice. The hot tears threatening to fall also went ignored.

“Fair enough - you answer one of mine, and I’ll answer one of yours.” He stepped towards where she was sitting on the ground. “I was going to tell you, anyways. I want a lot of things from you, Allie Pressman. You’re a whiny little bitch who only gets to lead us because of your dead sister. You’ve taken so much from me.”

She couldn’t believe that he actually had the nerve to play the victim card. Here, while she was tied up in his basement.

He continued. “But for now - all that I want right now - is my girlfriend back. You better return her to me.”

She glared up at him, trying to appear strong. “Never,” she spat.

The brass knuckles flew at her before she could even blink, crashing into her cheek and causing her head to snap to the side. It took her a moment to reorient herself, and she felt a trail of blood trickling down her face.

“You will do as I say,” he warned in a deadly tone.

She nodded. If she were a fighter, she would deny him, taking what she got and always standing strong. However she was a survivor, and while someone else might say that they were one in the same, that was simply untrue. A fighter fought until the end, while a survivor didn’t come to an end. Some called it intelligence and some called it cowardice, but she was a survivor. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked. She needed to keep getting information out of him - it was her best shot.

“You see, I need to send a message. Campbell Eliot is not someone to be messed with. You have taken from me the girl I love, who I swore to protect, and that’s not going to fly. I’m not going to kill you, Allie. You’ll only wish you were dead.”

She didn’t have time to respond as he kicked her hard in the side. She screamed as she felt something crack.

He tutted. “I thought you would be stronger than that. I guess you’re really just soft behind your big, bad Guard.”

“Fuck you,” she said, though her voice lacked gusto.

“Fuck you, too.” He kicked her again, this time in the back. “Sit up.”

She remained on the ground.

He stomped on her leg. “I said sit up!”

Doing her best to ignore the pain she felt, she slid herself back into a sitting position against the wall.

“You all need to know just how wrong you were.” The fist bearing the brass knuckles crashed into her jaw. “All of you.” He drove them into her stomach, so far that his fist was probably an inch from the wall she was sitting against.

She spat blood, praying for it to be due to the hit to her jaw rather than something internal.

He laughed, like he found all of this extremely funny. “You’re fucking useless, Allie. Do something! Sam’s fucking pet bird had more fight than you!”

She didn’t answer.

“Make this more fun,” he demanded.

She stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes. What in the hell did he mean by that? She had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like it.

He groaned, as if she were causing him an inconvenience. “Jesus christ.” He roughly grabbed her forearm, hauling her to her feet and causing her to scream in pain. “You’ve got five seconds to run to that door at the top of the steps. If you make it, you can go. If you don’t, then we get to keep playing. How does that sound? Fair?”

She stared at him stonily. “Fuck. You. None of this is fair and you know it, even in your sick, psychotic brain.”

“Ready, set, go.” He released her arm, causing her to stumble forwards.

Luckily, she stayed on her feet. She didn’t want to play his stupid torture games. But if she had even a small chance of getting out… She ran.

“Four.”

She quickly found that her right leg didn’t work very well. She pushed herself on and from the amount of effort it took she felt like she should be running. She knew that it probably looked more like a drunken speed walk.

“Three.”

Halfway there, but she still had to tackle the stairs. She urged herself on.

“Two.”

Her heart pumped faster every time his voice echoed. The countdown was terrifying, as she raced to the door knowing what was to come if she didn’t make it.

“One.”

She was halfway up the stairs when he charged for her, grabbing her and throwing her back down them like a ragdoll.

Through her blurry vision, she longingly stared at the door. The tears flowed freely down her face now.

His form, towering over her, filled her vision. She tried to turn away, but he leant down over her, holding her face in his hand. His thumb wiped some of the blood off of her lip. His face got close to hers, far too close, and he whispered, “My plan doesn’t need for you to die, Allie. It just doesn’t depend on you being alive, either.”

Her breath hitched as she understood his meaning. He didn’t care if she survived this. In fact, he might just kill her for the fun of it. “They’ll hunt you down,” she whispered. “If you kill me.”

“Without you, the town would descend into chaos. They might come looking for me, but I have a backup plan. I thrive in chaos. Eventually, it would be me leading. But I’m not looking for that… just yet, at least. I. Just. Want. My. Girlfriend. Back.”

It took her foggy brain a few seconds longer than it should have to realize that he was undoing her pants.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Grizz says. “Fucking hell. How did we lose her? I thought at least one of us was supposed to be with her at all times!”

“We were,” Jason defended.

“Well she didn’t just vanish into thin air!” Grizz growled back.

Gordy groaned. “And no one has seen her?”

Luke shook his head, confirming. “Helena was with Allie last. She said that she had excused herself to the restroom and then never came back. After that, no one has seen her.”

“She should know better than to slip away without one of us,” Clark sighed, though he was more frustrated with themselves for not paying closer attention than with Allie for wanting to use the freaking bathroom by herself.

Gordy groaned. “This is bad. Why would she just disappear?”

Luke shrugged. “Helena said she was fine while they were talking. Even seemed happy.”

“What do we do?” Grizz asked, arms crossed.

They quieted. As they were only in the very beginning of forming a functioning government, they had neglected to come up with any sort of protocol for missing people. It had simply not been in their minds primarily due to the fact that no one had actually gone missing yet. Even back in West Ham, the old one, due to the upper class families residing there rarely had to deal with such matters.

“What do they do, like, on tv?” Clark suggested.

“They call the cops,” Grizz said.

“Dude,” Luke groaned. “We are the cops.”

Grizz nodded, realizing. “Well, fuck.”

“Will you stop saying that?” Jason said.

“Guys!” Clark said, sharply. “They usually have posters, bring in witnesses…”

Gordy’s eyes widened, a light bulb going off in his head. “A search party.”

The others nodded in approval.

“Okay,” Gordy breathed. “So we’ll assemble a search party and meet in the church. Okay?”

“Let’s go,” Luke agreed. They got to work.

Allie laid on the cold, hard basement floor. She wanted to think about how she would escape and get away from him. She wanted to think about running up the basement steps and sneaking through the house, successfully avoiding her captor and making it through the front door and then down the street before he went to check on her and noticed she was gone.

If she were the strong, smart leader she pretended to be then that’s exactly what she would be doing. If she were her sister.

But she wasn’t her sister. She wasn’t the brave leader guiding the town through their mysterious misfortunes. She was a young girl, doing her best to help people because she was told that it had to be her. So she lay still on the floor, pain filling her senses from inside out, the only thing she could feel. This was certainly a step up from when she broke her ankle as a kid, she thought humorlessly.

It must have been another twenty, thirty minutes before he came back down into the basement. She didn’t dread his return as much as she thought she should. Anything other than sitting alone with her pain and fear.

“Get up,” he ordered.

She whimpered in response. How did he expect her to do so, exactly? She’d inventoried the damage done to her body while she was alone. The pain in her side probably meant a broken rib or three, confirmed by the snap she’d heard when he kicked her. Her right ankle was broken, or at least sprained, and further down she registered pain in her toes. Her head still hurt, probably from the initial assault with the crowbar. Her face hurt, her stomach, and she could feel the bruises littered all over the rest of her body every time she breathed too hard.

“Get up!” he screamed. She winced for the blow, but it never came. Apparently he was satisfied with the injuries he had already caused her.

Against the protest coming from her body, she held her breath as she moved to a sitting position.

“Wow, Allie.” He smirked. “You look like shit.”

“Go to hell,” she inhaled sharply as her ribs moved.

He watched her struggle, and she disturbingly remembered the bird story Sam had shared from their childhood. She was the bird, and he was watching in amusement as her stubs where there used to be wings refused to fly her away. She hated playing the role in his twisted, sick game but was fearful of what he would do if she disobeyed.

She tried to stand, but was sent crashing back to the ground. “Up,” he demanded.

She tried again, this time with more success. But with a laugh and a kick to her left shin - the one bearing her weight - she was back on the ground. A sob rose in her throat.

“Get. Up!” He looked angry now, and she hurried to get back on her feet. It wasn’t working so well.

Impatient, he grabbed her arm and hoisted her up. He dragged her as she stumbled up the steps and out of the basement. He roughly caught her every time her body gave out and she nearly fell, shoving her back upright and continuing on. To her surprise, they exited the horrid house she hoped to never see again and he pulled her over to his car. The one he’d kidnapped her in.

“In,” he said. She did as she was told, with only a little reluctant assistance from him. He got in the driver's’ seat, starting the car.

“Wh-where are we going?” she asked.

He leaned across the center console, grinning. “To deliver my message, princess. You all have twenty four hours to return Elle to me, or I will come back. And I will kill you.”

The threat should have been terrifying, sending shivers down her spine. However the only thing she felt was relief. He was bringing her back home.

The search party met in the church, Gordy briefing everyone on the little bit that they knew. He looked around the room from where he stood in the front. Obviously, the Guard - Luke, Jason, Clark, and Grizz - were there in their matching jackets. Standing next to Luke was Helena, and behind her Kelly.

“Is that everyone coming?” Gordy asked.

“Everyone joining in the search,” Luke shrugged. “Everyone else knows that she’s missing and to keep an eye out.”

Gordy rolled his eyes. He knew that his hometown was filled with unmotivated, emotionally stunted slackers raised in the lap of luxury, however it had never been more apparent to him than it did in that moment. Maybe this New Ham thing was the universe’s way of giving them some much-needed character growth. It was certainly an idea he’d toyed with in the past, and he would’ve considered it longer if he actually believed in a higher power.

Another person slipped in the back, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and looking out of place.

“Come to help?” Gordy asked. All heads turned to see who he was addressing.

Harry nodded. “Kelly told me she was missing.”

Will stood up from where he was sitting. “I don’t trust him,” he glared at Harry. “How do we know that he hasn’t done something to her?”

Harry put his hands up. “I haven’t done anything. Really - I’m here to help.”

Will still looked skeptical, but Kelly ended the issue by saying, “Look, Harry’s barely been pulling himself out of bed long enough to work his shifts. I don’t think he has it in him to plan a kidnapping or whatever this is. No offense, Harry.”

Harry shrugged, “Slight offense, but not undeserved.”

Gordy snapped his fingers, directing their attention back to the issue at hand. “Okay, so here’s the plan…”

The sound of an engine revving outside drowned out the rest of that sentence, effectively drawing their attention away from the meeting. The sound was soon accompanied by a blaring horn.

“What the-” Helena stood from her seat, walking quickly to the door to see what was going on. The others followed, Luke jogging ahead to be with her at the front.

In the church parking lot was the familiar black jeep belonging to Campbell. And in the passenger seat sat the very girl they were searching for.

“Allie!” Grizz yelled.

Before they could react, the passenger door was opened and Allie was roughly shoved out onto the street, Campbell speeding away like a madman (which was actually very in character for him).

The group all sprinted over to Allie, who still hadn’t gotten up.

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