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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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Hypothetically | Chapter 16-20

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 10k

chapter 16

It was 7 am when they got the call. Y/N had barely gotten any sleep that night, Spencer was adamant that laying on the left side helps maximize blood flow. Meaning she faced the wall all night with him happily cuddled into her back. She hated it.

Between peeing 100 times a day and the constant heartburn, she couldn’t really pick the worst part about creating a human.

It fuckin’ sucked and no one thought to warn her.

She dragged herself out of bed, trying her best to do her morning routine with only one eye open. Spencer, on the other hand, seemed to bounce out of bed like he slept 12 hours. Dancing around the kitchen as he poured his coffee and took a smoothie out of the fridge for Y/N.

He fed the cat, changed the litter and even took out the garbage by the time she pulled herself from the bathroom and to her closet.

Her jeans didn’t fit, she let herself take a minute to cry out of frustration in the closet before she looked for anything presentable. The only pants she could get into were a pair of leggings, and at that point, she didn’t care anymore. She was probably going to stay back with Penelope anyway.

She threw on an FBI sweater to hide her bump from the rest of her co-workers, grabbed the rest of her shit and followed Spencer to the car. Getting in the passenger seat and immediately closing her eyes again.

“Wake me up when we’re at Quantico,” she told him. Leaning against the window, ignoring the world.

Maternity parking was the only bonus, she only had to walk 4 feet from her car to the elevator. She felt lazy, but she was allowed to.

“Hopefully,” Spencer finally spoke to her as they entered the elevator. “At the end of this week, your energy should return as your placenta is done developing. You’re the most tired right now because your organs are working 3 times harder than they’re used to.”

“I’m tired because I had nothing to cuddle with all night, but thanks for the insight,” she tried her best to be cheery.

The door dinged, opening to the rest of the team standing in the entryway. “What’s up?” Y/N asked them.

“Hotch got a call, we’ve got a weird one coming in, he’s in his office talking to someone right now,” Morgan said. He looked just as tired as Y/N.

“Are we going in?” She asked, walking past them and towards the bullpen.

She rushed through the room and waddled up the stairs, searching for a chair before she actually passed out. Everyone followed her soon after, patting her back as they walked around the table to their seats.

“Over the past few months 6 feet have washed up on different beaches along the coast of Maine,” Penelope started explaining the case while Hotch was still on the phone in his office.

“6 feet belonging to 6 different people, all incredibly hard to identify. Interpol, Europol, the RCMP and the FBI have all been in communication with each other as no one knows where the feet washed in from. International Water laws prohibit just one of us from taking jurisdiction until we identify the nationality of the victims.”

“How are we going to Identify the feet?” Prentiss asked.

“We’re currently running the DNA against missing persons along the east coast as well as anyone who recently travelled to North America by boat, so far we don’t have any matches. We do know all 6 feet are white so hopefully, hopefully,” Garcia repeated for extra magic help, “this isn’t a refugee transport gone wrong.”

“We’ve been seeing an increase of boating accidents from Syrian refugees recently,” Spencer added. “The wars in the middle east are continuing to push people from their homes in mass numbers, meaning a lot of the boats are overpacked and capsize mid extraction.”

“So we’re probably looking at someone from North America who is using their own boat to sail out and release victims,” Y/N added. “Do we have the ME reports on the 6 feet?”

“Oh, yeah,” Garcia said, flipping through papers and handing them to her.

She read it over carefully, trying to see through her new blurred vision. Another wonderful pregnancy symptom. “Normally when feet wash up on shore, they’re in shoes. If a body is lost in a boating accident or drowning, the rubber soles will always want to float to the surface. When a body is decaying in water long enough the bones will separate, and when the ankle bone goes, the feet float to the surface,” Y/N explained.

“How do you just know that?” Rossi asked.

“In Nevada, we had a lot of drownings in a man-made lake, people would get stuck at the bottom on tree roots. And every year a few feet would wash up,” she added. “I only explained that because it says in the ME report that the feet were cut with a sharp blade, all clean cuts with no shoes or socks. So someone is cutting these bodies up and bringing them out to sea, probably to use as bait for a big catch.”

“It’s weird to me that the feet are the only parts washing up?” JJ’s face was absolutely puzzled as she flipped through the files.

“Not really,” Y/N argued, “I’m more concerned with why he’d even cut the feet, to begin with. With most shark attacks they go for full limbs, if I was the unsub and I was cutting the body up for bait, I wouldn’t make the pieces so small. There isn’t enough blood or flesh on feet to entice a large fish or shark to take it.”

Rossi was tapping his fingers against the table, “Do you think he wants us to find the feet?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look good.”

Then, Hotch finally walked in. “Which 3 of you want to travel to Maine to take a look at all the findings?” Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi raised their hands, “alright, meet me on the runway in 20. The rest of you, find a way to identify the feet.”

—

She sat at her desk most of the morning, munching on a bag of animal crackers to keep her nausea at bay. JJ brought her a cold ginger ale around 11, rubbing her back for a bit while she flipped through files.

She had a doctor’s appointment during lunch that day, so she headed downtown to give blood in the hour she was permitted. Knowing that she could be late and no one would really care.

She waited in Dr. Korrapati’s room patiently, looking at her arm as she rested it on the table. Her veins were more prominent now than they had ever been in her life. JJ insured her that they would go back down but it did make her a little self-conscious.

“Hey mama,” Dr. Korrapati cheered as she walked into the room. “How are we feeling?”

“Good, tired but good.”

“Work kicking your butt?” She asked as she prepped her arm for the blood draw. “Or just the baby?”

“Having a hard time finding a comfortable sleeping position, I’m probably going to get one of those long pillow things to help,” she rambled to take her mind off what was going on with her arm.

For someone who looked at dead bodies as her job, seeing her own blood freaked her out. Dr. Korrapati noticed she was a little stressed, “how about when I’m done here we take a look at your little person?”

That piqued her interest, she sat completely still and looked away as the nicest doctor she could’ve asked for, got the test over and done with, in record-breaking time.

“Do you have any other symptoms that are bothering you?” She asked as she wrote the exact tests down in her paperwork.

“Yeah,” she struggled with the sleeve of her shirt as she tucked her arm back in. “The nausea is driving me nuts, I’m living on animal crackers and ginger ale.”

“If you eat small meals every few hours it should settle it out,” she explained. “But if it is really bothering you we can give you some anti-nausea medication.”

“I tried that, everyone keeps bringing me snacks and trying to take care of me but I don’t want anything because I’m so tired,” she ranted as she climbed onto the exam table.

“Have you tried sleeping on the other side of the bed?” She asked.

“no, why?”

Dr. Korrapati laughed, “you sleep on the left side of the bed right?”

“Yeah?” She questioned, wondering how an OB could profile so well.

“So I'm assuming your smart and overprotective boyfriend has advised you to lay on your left side like he told JJ?” She smiled. “And because you sleep on the left side of the bed already, that means you’re not cuddled into him. He’s the big spoon now and you hate it.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in her head, “oh my god?”

They laughed at the fact it was so obvious and she never clued in. “It happens all the time, you’re so in a routine that you don’t realize you can just switch sides and it’ll work.”

“You’re so smart!”

“Ready to hear and see this baby of yours?” She asked, waiting for Y/N to raise her shirt and lower her leggings to expose her lower stomach.

“Can we?”

“Yep,” she nodded, “you’re in week 9, so you’re exiting the embryo stage and moving towards the fetal stage. We’ll be able to see the fetus and hear the heartbeat.”

“Can I record it for Spencer?” She asked, not wanting him to miss it.

“I’ll do you one better and put it on a disk for you.”

Just like that, she was smothering her stomach in warm jelly. Spreading it around with the ultrasound wand before she began to search for them. Pressing in slightly on her right side, she heard her own heartbeat whooshing. The closer she got to the centre, the more they heard the second.

Her baby’s heartbeat was strong. She saw them on the monitor, they had changed from being a jellybean to actually looking like a person. 4 strong limbs were stretching and moving, growing faster than she thought possible.

“That’s insane?” She was in such awe of it, “when will I feel the kicking and stuff?”

“In a few more months, they’re only the size of a green olive. You’ll probably feel it around Christmas?” She guessed. “You’ll be 16 weeks around then.”

“Wow okay,” she was just astounded by the magic of growing a child, she felt like absolute shit but it all made sense at that moment. In just a week, muscles and limbs formed and her baby grew the ability to self-soothe in the womb. Growing 10 fingers and toes that they already knew how to put in their mouth.

She cleaned the gel off Y/N’s stomach and began exporting the files for her. “So, I will call you when the results are in, and I can just email you guys a copy and go over it with you on the phone when you’re free? I know your job is unpredictable?”

“That would be perfect, thank you. We’re working on an international case right now so for all I know I’ll be in Ireland next week,” She laughed.

“Of course, take care of yourself make sure you’re taking all the vitamins and having 8 cups of clear fluids a day, you have to stay hydrated.” Dr. Korrapati handed her the disk in a sleeve as well as her contact card.

“Yes ma’am, I can’t wait to hear from you,” she smiled before leaving the office.

—

Y/N walked back into the BAU around 1:15, wandering down the hall to Penelope’s office to get a rundown of what she missed.

Spencer and JJ had the same idea, all turning towards the door as Y/N walked in, “hey.”

“How was it?” Spencer asked softly, beckoning her to his lap.

She sat down on him softly, “I got a DVD copy of the ultrasound.” She waved the disk around. “But, we can’t watch it until I get a rundown on what we know so far.”

“I hate how professional you are sometimes,” Penelope huffed. “Luckily, it is very important.”

“We matched a tattoo on one of the feet to a missing person’s case in Nova Scotia. So we focused our efforts on missing person’s cases who fit the same features and backgrounds as her,” JJ explained.

“Okay cool, who was she?”

“Andrea Carlton, 18. She was hitchhiking, apparently wanting to run away to meet her boyfriend in Newfoundland. I traced her transactions before she disappeared and it looks like she bought a ferry ticket, however, there are no reports of her ever getting on it,” Penelope added. “So I’ve looked into other people from Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick and Newfoundland, who went missing hitchhiking or after booking a ferry ticket.”

“Smart, how many matches did we get?”

“5,” She laughed.

“You’re kidding?”

They all shook their heads, “nope. And we were able to match all the feet to them.”

Y/N handed the ultrasound video over to Penelope. “Your reward.”

She snatched it from her hands so fast, taking it out of the packaging and shoving it in her CD port. Loading the file within seconds.

She watched Spencer’s face the whole time. Already having seen the footage herself, knowing the real show would be his reaction.

He was so mesmerized, his eyes blown up in awe as tears welled. His grip on her leg was more intense, he was squeezing along to the beat of the baby’s heart, absentmindedly. He shook his head in disbelief, that was his baby in there.

The phone rang before they could really talk about it, Hotch requesting the team hop on a plane and meet them in Nova Scotia. The RCMP and the FBI have taken sole jurisdiction over the case.

Y/N was able to convince him that it would be best if they get some sleep before they go. He agreed, telling them he expected to see them in Canada at 10 am sharp.

“Before we go home tonight can you cross-reference freelance charter boats or fishermen in the area the day each victim missed a ferry? Someone desperate to get a ride might be willing to hop in a boat with anyone going where they are,” Y/N suggested to Garcia.

“I’ll run it in the background, you two go home and get some rest so my god-baby can get big and strong!” She hugged her lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Y/N and Spencer didn’t need to be told twice, practically running to their car. She let out the deepest sigh ever once she had her seatbelt on, so excited to go home.

Spencer drove them home, getting used to it as she got more pregnant. Soon she’d be too big to drive at all let alone stay awake the whole time.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked as they cleared the security check.

“Good, Dr. Korrapati is going to email us the results when they’re in and go over them with us on the phone. I told her we’d probably end up going out of the country soon,” Y/N recalled the day.

“The ultrasound was so cool,” he gushed.

“Yeah,” She smiled. Reaching to hold his hand on the centre console. “She also suggested we switch sides of the bed so that we can still cuddle while I’m on my left side.”

“She’s a genius.”

“that’s what I said!” She laughed, “literally how dumb are we?”

“187 till I become a dad and then I’m an idiot,” he smiled back at her quickly. “I’m glad you had a good day. Now we can go eat and get a full night’s rest.”

She let out another deep breath, “I can’t wait to cuddle.”

—

Garcia was waiting for them at the elevator the next morning. “Patrick Timmins.”

“Who?” Y/N asked, fully awake and ready to go, just confused by the ambush.

“I ran the perimeters that you asked for and I found a freelance fisherman slash charter service run by a guy named Patrick Timmins,” Garcia explained. “The townspeople call him Patty Tims, they think he’s fine and lovely according to his Yelp page but his criminal record tells a different story.”

“Really? I thought that was such a long shot!” Y/N was cheery from the extra sleep she got with Dr. Korrapati’s advice.

“The plane is ready when you guys are, I have all the updated info in this as well as some snacks for the plane,” she handed Spencer a cloth bag.

“What would I do without you? My pretty penny,” she kissed her friend on the cheek.

“If it means I get some sugar from you, I’ll do anything,” Garcia flirted with her in the absence of Morgan. “Go get on your plane, I will see you when you return my loves.”

They landed in Nova Scotia around 10 am like Hotch had requested. Bypassing customs and driving directly to the RCMP headquarters. They needed to come up with a plan, they had no idea how to find a man who travels by boat and lives at sea.

“We could always send undercover’s out in the areas he’s picked up before, have them dress as hitchhikers, miss the ferries and wait and see who tries to pick you up. Everyone will have a team watching and police boats on standby?” Morgan was theorizing as Spencer, Y/N and JJ walked in.

“We have report’s that he’s in the bay, if we’re going to do this we need to do it now,” An RCMP officer she hadn’t met yet announced to the room. “Who here is comfortable posing as a vic?”

JJ raised her hand, “get me some dirty clothes and I can be ready in 5.”

They raided the lost and found, they filled a backpack with random things and tried their best to dirty her fingernails and hair. She looked like she had been travelling without a proper place to stay for a while.

They managed to hide a wire on her, prepping what she was going to say if she was in danger and they needed to move in. Hiding a gun and a knife in her socks in case she needed them later.

They drove her down to the bay dropping her off 1 kilometre away, letting her walk into town while they parked closer to watch with binoculars. They planned it for her to arrive as the ferry pulled out of the bay.

She ran down the dock, trying to catch the ferry. Putting on the best performance of: “fuck, I missed the boat!” That they had ever seen.

“She’s going to win an Oscar,” Morgan whispered in the back of the surveillance van, trying to make Y/N laugh.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” They heard over the wire, trying to identify the source of the voice. The man was standing on his boat, hanging over the edge to get JJ’s attention.

“I missed the ferry, do you know when it’ll be back?” She played dumb. “I promised my mom I’d be back tonight and now I won’t be.”

“I can give you a ride, for a price,” the man suggested. “Names, Patty Tims.”

Hotch turned around from the front seat and motioned for Y/N and Morgan to head out quietly without making a scene. Listening in their headsets as JJ replied. “How much?”

They hid around the corner of the ticket booth, watching as the undercover officers walked around the civilians.

“Just a simple photo, I like to put a face to the stories I run across. Come on up,” he motioned for her to get on the boat.

She walked closer to him, “I don’t know sir, I should probably wait for the ferry.” She smiled.

“No,” he ground his teeth together and clenched his jaw, reaching for her.

She grabbed his arm and flipped him, getting into the boat and pushing him to the ground. She cuffed him by the time Morgan and Y/N could board. “What the fuck is this?” He struggled in her grasp.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of 6 people,” JJ replied, about to tell him his rights.

“Only 6?” He laughed.

JJ shoved him into the floor harder, reading him his rights before lifting him to his feet and shoving him off the boat and into RCMP custody.

Y/N lifted her hand up to high five JJ, pulling her into a half hug as they walked back to the surveillance van.

She never had a sister before, JJ was probably the only woman in her life that she felt this close to. It was mostly to do with the fact she’s always been so wonderful to Spencer. She helped him feel loved before Y/N, and that was important to her.

“Can we search the boat? Or are we still waiting on the warrant?” Y/N just wanted to check with Hotch before she barged onto the boat. Not wanting to jeopardize what they’re allowed to enter into evidence.

“We got it, you can start looking,” Hotch said, handing her a pair of gloves and a handful of evidence bags.

JJ went with her. They walked in together, noticing that he wasn’t lying about wanting a photo to go with the story. Below the deck, the entire wall was filled with Polaroids of terrified people moments before their deaths.

They bagged them all into evidence, dreading having to put them all into the system and match them to missing person’s reports. Delivering the news that someone’s loved one was gone for good was never fun.

Telling 58 families that their loved one was dead was a nightmare.

chapter 17

She’s a little confused when she wakes up to the sound of geese honking. Rolling away from Spencer’s embrace and immediately being blinded by the sunlight in the room. She sat up in a small panic.

She had forgotten that they stayed the night at the new house.

The large windows in the bedroom faced the water. She could see the sun’s reflection on the lake as it stretched over the house from the east. It was absolutely stunning. She could get used to waking up early with a screaming baby if this was the view.

Then she remembered it was the day they got their test results, she bounced a little as she reached for her phone to check her messages.

“Morning bunny,” Spencer’s groggy morning voice startled her a little.

“Bunny?” She questioned, never hearing him call her any form of nickname before.

He reached out of her, wrapping his arms around her growing belly, resting his head in her lap. “Have you ever noticed you hop a little bit when you get excited?”

“Yeah, it’s called Asperger’s,” she smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s honestly better than bugs bunny though, just don’t throw carrots at me okay?” She laughed to herself as she recalled the childhood trauma.

It was a little funny, looking back now.

“Never, you’re my bunny. I love my bunny.”

He was so soft in the mornings. Snuggling in against her skin as he slowly woke up. He stretched and yawned a bit, making the cutest little sounds as he did so.

She kept her fingers in his hair, twirling the ends every once and a while. Mostly running her nails along his scalp, soothing that big beautiful brain of his that she loved so much.

“We find out what the sex is today,” she reminded him.

He lifted up her shirt to expose her belly. Kissing the skin as she laid back against the pillows.

“What’s going on in there today?” She asked softly.

“They’re the size of a prune,” he mused. “speaking of, as you enter the fetus stage this week you’re going to get constipated.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “thanks that’s exactly what I wanted to know!”

“Right now the fetal development is focusing primarily on the bones, tummy and teeth,” he explained with the largest smile on his face.

“There we go.”

He hovered over her, brushing the hair from her face so he could look at her, “You look so beautiful right now.”

He said that as if he wasn’t blocking the sun from her view, perfectly casting a halo glow around him. She placed her hand on his cheek, “I love you.”

He leaned in and kissed her, pressing his body softly against her’s. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. Covering her face and neck with small pecks, making her laugh as he covered her body in kisses.

The phone rang on Spencer’s night table causing him to press his forehead against her hip, letting out a deep sigh. Y/N reached over and picked it up. “Doctor Spencer Reid’s phone,” she answered. “He can't come to the phone right now, can I take a message?”

“Funny,” Penelope replied.

“We have a case,” Morgan added.

“What time do we need to be on the plane by?” She asked.

“Uh, it’s 7:46 now, so you’ve got an hour, tops?” Penelope guessed, “why?”

“I said he was busy. I’ll see you later.” She hung up.

“You did not just do that?” He looked absolutely horrified, his whole face turning pink.

“They could either think you got some, or you could actually get some?” She teased. “We have an hour.”

—

“All 3 Vic’s had been strangled and raped before they were wrapped in plastic and released into the river,” Garcia explained to the team over the laptop as they travelled through the sky. “Washing away all of the unsub’s DNA, however, they did find carpet fragments under the victim’s finger-“

“Like the ’84 Oklahoma Child Murders,” Y/N cut her off.

“What?” Garcia asked.

“Oklahoma 1981 to 1984. Local black children between the age of approximately 6 and 17 were being abducted, raped and murdered. Their bodies were mostly discovered in wooded areas and along the edges of the river, never submerged. The BAU worked the case, only ever being able to solve the last 2 murders before the Oklahoma governor, I think, kicked you off the case, right? They cared more about the money going towards the investigation than the black children going missing,” She explained.

“Gideon and I tried,” Rossi said. Still very bothered by the ending. “We wanted to catch the guy, the last 2 murders were so different from the others and yet the local cops considered it the same guy. Much like this new unsub, he raped young men before strangling them and dropping them in the river. All the way down to the carpet fibres.”

“It ended up being a local man named Oscar Pope, they caught him dumping an older male victim at a police checkpoint. They matched carpet fibres at his house to the 2 rivers Vic’s, but none of the children,” Prentiss cut in. “This has to be a copycat right?”

“We don’t know that,” Y/N added. “The BAU was working the angle that a local boy who knew the majority of the victims was in on it. Um, Daryl Livingston, he was in foster care at the time. He was the 7th boy to go missing and then every one of his friends was found dead after that. However, his body was never found. They suspected that he formed a bond with his captor and offered to bring him, other boys, if he let him live.”

“Any chance that this unsub could be the same kid, using Pope’s tactic to get our attention back on him?” Morgan asked.

“I was about to say that too,” JJ cut in. “they might’ve even been a team back then as well. That would explain why the murders stopped when Pope was caught but they still never found that boy.”

“That’s possible. They concluded that the last victim Pope dropped into the river was a long-time, secret boyfriend of his who found out what he was doing to the children. His MO changed when he didn’t want people to tie the murders together,” Spencer provided the extra information. “Only backfiring when local cops patrolling the river heard a splash.”

“Garcia, can you see if any of the Vic’s have any relation, contact or even geographical coincidences with the original murders?” Rossi asked. “If this is a victim continuing Pope’s work we need to find out who knew him.”

“Sir, Oscar Pope is still alive in a local correctional facility,” Garcia added. “I’m going to run background checks on all contact he’s had in his entirety at the prison, it might take a while but I’ll get it.”

“Garcia, I can go to the facility and just read everything they have there. It might not be all digital yet,” Reid offered.

“Good idea, take Y/N with you. You two bounce ideas off each other better than the rest of us,” Hotch agreed. “Morgan and Rossi join the search teams at the rivers. JJ and Prentiss, we’ll set up communication with the locals and go through old case files.”

“Reid’s good at bouncing somethin’ off her, alright,” Morgan teased him. “You were on speaker this morning.”

Spencer turned bright red once again, burying his face into the table as everyone laughed, reaching across the aisle to give Y/N high fives.

—

Being in a prison was always weird for her.

Having to hand in her gun just to read papers in a dusty office made her uncomfortable. She understood the protocol and she knew the guards would keep them safe, but knowing she was near men she helped put away, that scared her slightly.

“I’m not finding anything,” Spencer sighed. “There was a flood 2 years ago that destroyed most of the files near the ground. Including the Pope documents.”

“We can always just go ask him?” Y/N suggested, “he’s in D cell, he’s behind bars. We can just talk to him from the hallway unofficially. Pretend we’re here for someone else. I’ll say I never thought he really did those murders and gain his trust, see what happens.”

“I don’t like it but, I think we have to,” he agreed. Opening the office door for her to lead the way, “after you.”

Spencer felt very protective, she could tell. He was never pushy or controlling with her, but for some reason, he was now manhandling her. Making sure she walked on the inside of the hallways, closer to the brick walls so that no one could get her through the bars.

“So Doctor Reid,” she picked up the conversation as they hit the D block. “I was reading the book you lent me about engineering.”

“Oh,” he tried to play along. “How did you like it?”

“It was good,” she replied while trying to look at each inmate she passed. “I loved page 187— oh my gosh?” She stopped at Pope’s cell.

“You’re Oscar Pope?” She pointed at him.

“and you’re?” The old man questioned her. “A fed?”

“We’re here for something political, nothing to concern yourself with,” she lied, getting closer to the bars, whispering. “I just want you to know I never thought you did all 16 of the child murders back in the day.”

“Thank you,” he was suddenly enthusiastic. “Now why can’t all the fed’s be as smart as you?”

She laughed, tapping his arm through the bars. “How are you doing? Is there anything I can get you while I’m here?”

“Phone privileges!” He answered quickly, “the mail’s taking forever and I’ve got people to talk to before I croak in here.”

“I’m sure you do sir,” she smiled at him. “I’ll pull some strings, you have a good day!”

“You too, beautiful!”

Spencer placed his hand on her hip and led her away from the bars, she waved as they walked away.

“Agent Y/L/N,” a voice stopped her at the end of the hall.

She turned to see a man sitting cross-legged on the cell floor. His orange jumpsuit gathered around his waist as he sat in an undershirt. She glanced over his body, stopping at his face. She’d know those eyes anywhere.

“Didn’t I say only good boys get to talk to me, Bitch?” She snapped at him.

“Congratulations on the little one.” He replied. Laughing as Spencer placed his hand over her small stomach and led her out of the room, through the big metal doors.

“Keep walking with me,” Spencer insisted. “Or I will turn around and I will kill him.”

She huffed and continued down a narrow hallway with him. “We need to call Hotch.”

“Yeah,” he flipped his phone open and hit the speed dial.

“Reid?” She heard Hotch answer.

“We couldn’t get any of his information from forms, they all had water damage so Y/N and I walked past Pope’s cell and struck up a conversation,” He explained.

“And?”

“She got on his good side, pretending that she could get him a favour while she’s here for political reasons. He said he’s desperate to make a phone call today.”

“I’m on my way, get Garcia to prep paperwork to allow us a meeting with him now,” Hotch instructed, hanging up.

Y/N dialled Garcia on her phone. “How’s it going love birds?”

“Not good,” she replied. “We need you to get the paperwork going to allow us to sit down with Oscar Pope today. And we’re going to need to tear through his cell.”

“Oh, damn okay,” She replied. “Ask him about Cody Kollins.”

“Who?” Spencer asked as his phone rang again. He flipped it open, “we’ve got Garcia here too.” Putting it on speaker.

“Morgan and Rossi just intercepted a man dropping a body in the river,” Hotch confirmed. “I need you to rush that paperwork.”

“Sir, what was the man’s name?” Garcia asked.

“Cody Kollins.”

They sighed at each other, “let’s do this.”

—

Y/N watched him through the mirror. She could see him fidgeting. He was frustrated. He was exhibiting the exact same behaviour as he was when he was caught the first time.

“Every time we one-up him, he breaks down,” she whispered to Spencer. “Even in his interrogation tapes, he was like this. When they found the single patch of carpet left in his closet and were able to match the fibres, he lost it. He likes to play it cool and under control, he wrote the story and he wants us to stick to it.”

“How upset do you think he’d be if we went in there and told him we actually caught the original killer and he’s going to be released pending DNA testing?” Spencer suggested.

She tilted her head, biting her lip as she thought. “I think he’d be violent.”

“Sit here,” he said as he walked into the interview room.

She hated having to just watch. It helped that Pope was cuffed to the table, and the table was drilled into the concrete floor, Spencer wouldn’t get hurt. The guards are right behind the door. It’s fine.

“Sorry for the abrupt interrogation, I promise this isn’t what you think,” Spencer smiled softly. “We have reason to believe that the original killer has returned, the state is running the DNA now.”

Y/N watched as Pope’s right eye started to twitch, his finger on his leg was tapping at an odd rhythm as Spencer talked.

“The second we can prove you had no hand in any of the killing’s we’ll issue a pardon and your discharge papers will be filled out,” Spencer finished his sentence and moved to open the door once more.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he hissed. His voice was completely different than it was when they were speaking in D block.

“Why?” Spencer asked, easily playing the innocent and stupid role.

“You think some crazy-obsessed, fuck toy of mine whose doing half-assed attempts at my signature, is the real killer!!!” Pope spat his confession out. Literally covering the table in spit as he became more feral. Shaking violently.

Spencer walked right out of the room. Y/N watched as Pope smacked the table, tugging violently at the cuffs, scratching himself all up. The guards had to run in and hold him down, shooting a sedative into his neck.

“Jesus,” she whispered. Taking her phone out of her pocket to call Garcia, when she noticed the voicemail notification in the bottom corner. She ignored it, calling her friend instead.

“Hey,” Penelope answered quickly. “So turns out we were right, who would have thought, Cody Kollins is actually Daryl Livingston.”

“We just got a confession from Pope,” Y/N shared her news. “They had to sedate him so we’re going to come back to the station. Wait until tomorrow to interview him again.”

“Yeah, sounds good, Hotch and Morgan are in with Livingston right now,” she updated them. “Make sure to eat something when you get there.”

“Yes mom,” she teased, hanging up and smiling.

Spencer put his hand out in an invitation to hold it. She interlocked their fingers and followed him back to the filing room, gathering their things before exiting the prison.

She sat on the passenger side of the SUV, she and Spencer just sat there and took a few deep breaths. Processing everything the exact same way, quietly and on their own.

She cut the awkward silencer by taking out her phone and playing the voicemail. Putting it on speaker.

“Hi Y/N, this is Doctor Korrapati calling. I’ve emailed you your results. The gender is at the bottom, under the little read more button, in case you wanted it to be a surprise. Call the office and let us know when you’re free to go over the results and we’ll book you in, as far as I can tell everything looks good, so don’t feel the need to rush. Take care!”

Spencer looked over at her with a soft smile on his face, reaching out for her hand once more. Holding her hand with both of his now, “do you want to do this?”

“I’m ready if you are?”

He nodded, watching her contently as she opened her email up, finding the right one and scrolling to the bottom. Her heart fluttered a little as she looked at the read more option.

She took a deep breath and clicked on it.

Chromosomal sex: XY

“Well?” Spencer asked softly.

“I’d really love to tell you,” she bit her lip trying not to laugh, “but I don’t remember what this means?”

He laughed, shaking his head as he looked at the screen. He blinked with glossy eyes as he read it, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he cried softly.

It had to be a girl, she knew he wanted one. She convinced herself in that millisecond that it was a girl.

He reached over and placed his hand flat against her belly. “Hi Matthew,” he said softly.

“You’re kidding?” She couldn’t stop herself from crying.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, the two of them happily crying into each other. She wasn’t sure if she was giggling or sobbing, she just knew she was shaking in Spencer’s arms with happiness that this was her little family.

He kissed all over her one cheek as he held her close. “I love you so much,” he reminded her.

She pulled back, wiping her tears off on her shirt sleeve, laughing at the serendipity of it all. “I love you too, dad.”

“I have to drive, don’t make me cry again,” he laughed, wiping his own tears before tucking his ever-growing hair behind his ears.

“Let’s go.”

—

Y/N sat beside JJ in the break room of the police station, salad bowl in her lap, shovelling the dressing-covered leaves in her mouth.

They weren’t tasked with anything until Hotch and Morgan attempted to get some info out of the unsub. “Were you crying earlier?” She asked.

“A little,” Y/N smiled at her. “We’re having a boy,” she whispered.

“Oh my god!” JJ whispered back at her, reaching out for her arm and shaking her a little. “I have a feeling your little guy will be bigger than Henry was so he’ll fit into all Henry’s summer stuff when he’s born!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” She confirmed. “By the time he grows out of everything I might have a second boy and we can rotate it around again,” she laughed. “This is going to be so fun.”

“Matthew and Henry are going to be best friends,” Y/N smiled.

“Matthew,” she repeated. “That’s a nice name, I like it.”

“My brother’s name is Levi, I thought it was a nice way to keep a family name in my baby’s life, and his middle name is going to be Gideon,” she spoiled it for Spencer.

JJ looked a little emotional, “sorry it’s just so surreal thinking about me and Spencer having kids who are friends.”

Y/N moved her dinner out of the way and hugged her then, holding her tightly. “You better not be pregnant too,” she whispered in her ear. Not wanting to give it away if she was.

JJ just laughed, rocking Y/N back and forth in her embrace, not answering. “Right?” Y/N asked again.

“We’re trying, so who knows,” JJ replied.

“Shut up?” Y/N pulled back and stared into her eyes to see if she was telling the truth or not. “Holy shit? Since when?”

“Honestly, I think the night we celebrated Canadian thanksgiving,” she laughed. “You and Spencer got us talking about babies, and you got Henry to sleep through the night, so this is technically your fault.”

“JJ,” Y/N started to cry, “I’m so happy for you.”

“They’ll only be a few months apart, so they’ll be best friends too,” JJ smiled. “This is going to be really fun.”

chapter 18

For Christmas this year, Y/N just wanted to be fully moved into their new home before they had to leave for Vegas. Spencer followed through with the present. Inviting the entire team over for drinks if they promised to stop by Y/N’s apartment and bring a few boxes to the new house. It was basically just free labour.

She spent the night nesting while her friends drank in her kitchen. They understood why she was nervous, she was going to tell her parents about the baby and the engagement, and the house, in 3 days.

It was all going to be a lot.

She was 16 weeks along as of Christmas Eve. Waking up the morning of their flight to a weird twitching sensation in her gut, like butterflies or a muscle twitch but right where the baby would be.

“Spence,” she shook him awake. “Spencer.”

“What’s wrong?” He sat right up, squinting at her as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“It’s like, I don’t know how to explain it?” She worried.

Spencer placed his hand on her belly feeling the slight flitter. “He’s kicking.”

Spencer’s early morning smile was the best, he tackled her back against the pillow and dug his face into the crook of her neck. “That’s my baby in there.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” she laughed, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “We have to go to the airport soon.”

“I know,” he mumbled into her neck.

“If you get up now, we can go get breakfast before we have to board?” She enticed him, “we can get sprinkle donuts for the flight.”

“Okay,” he said as she freed him from her grip. “Are you nervous?”

“I know they’ll be happy, just not ready for them to ask why I didn’t say anything sooner,” She explained. “I’ve been really distant since I got the job, I’m really excited to spend time with them this weekend.”

“Same,” Spencer smiled. “Come on you two.”

They took a 9 am flight one-way to Las Vegas. Y/N slept most of the ride, spending the last 45 minutes just snuggled into Spencer’s shoulder as he watched a documentary on some form of science or math. She couldn’t hear what it was about, all she saw was a man writing out numbers on a chalkboard.

She ran her hand over her belly lightly. There was no way she could walk into her mother’s house in a few minutes and just pretend it wasn’t there. It was there. So were the 5 pounds of baby weight on her hips and the swelling in her face and knuckles.

She was pretty quiet during landing and baggage claim. Thinking in her head what she was going to say to everyone, how she would explain it. She sat in a cab beside Spencer, absentmindedly following him through the airport they’ve both been through at least 20 times.

It was a short trip to her parent’s house. Spencer traced little shapes into her leg with his finger to distract her. A flower, a 4D cube, the words I love you. It was sweet, non verbal comfort was very important to her.

When they arrived, she stayed in the cab to pay while Spencer got their bags out. Taking as long as possible so she could avoid it a little longer.

Biting the bullet, she took a deep breath and walked out into her parent’s front yard. Taking the handle of her suitcase and dragging it up the walkway.

She walked right into her house, her parents and brothers all standing up from the living room and rushing into the entryway. She was wrapped up in 7 hugs within a matter of seconds.

“You look so different,” her mom said as she pulled back from her hug. Holding her arms as she examined her, “what did you do?”

“I got pregnant,” she replied, scrunching her face as she waited for their response.

She could’ve sworn she went deaf at that moment, reaching down to cover her bump as everyone cheered and jumped around her. She was pulled into a group hug before she could process anything. Laughing awkwardly at the whole experience.

“Be quiet, he can hear this week!” She laughed.

“He?” Her father inquired.

She looked back at Spencer, smiling at him. “It’s a boy,” Spencer confirmed.

“Holy shit!” Her brothers cheered, high-fiving each other. “When are you due?” Harrison asked.

“June,” she smiled. “3 days after mom’s birthday, see I do remember it.”

“Come sit,” her mom insisted, pushing everyone out of the way and dragging her to the couch. “Put your feet up, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N insisted. “You’re almost worse than my co-workers.”

“Are they taking good care of you?” Her father asked.

She waited for Spencer to join her on the couch, they had all been so excited about her they forgot he was there. “Yeah. Um, we have a lot to tell you,” She explained, holding Spencer’s hand for comfort.

“I asked Y/N to marry me,” Spencer announced. “I am so in love with her, this baby is a dream come true and I’m very excited to become a part of your family.”

Her mom cried, tossing her hand over her eyes as she sobbed. “Mom,” she was so overwhelmed with everything she started to cry too.

“You’re a wonderful man Spencer,” her father interjected. “It’s an honour to have you.”

Spencer smiled and nodded towards him, silently thanking him for the approval.

“So, it’s kind of insane how it all happened. It wasn’t intended, but we love him so much already,” Y/N glowed as she spoke. “Are we going to tell people the name yet?”

Spencer nodded, “we can.” He smiled down at her with such wonderment, the moment she had been scared of for 16 weeks turning out to be the best time she’s had with her whole family in one room.

“His name is Matthew Gideon Reid,” Y/N smiled. “After my favourite brother, no offence Harry, and Spencer’s mentor.”

Levi was her more emotional brother. He was her best friend growing up. The 5 year age difference gave them the time to grow up separately but still find common interests to bring them together. They were the closest in the family before she moved to Virginia full time it became hard to keep up with him as much.

Now they were both parents, their kids only having a 3 year age difference. Meaning next year there would be 2 little ones at Christmas.

“That’s a lovely name,” Levi smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s whatever, don’t expect our kids to have your name either,” Harrison replied as he held his wife close, pretending he was a little offended.

“We also got a house,” she added to change the topic, “Jason Gideon, he kinda gave us his place in Virginia.”

“You’re kidding me?” Debbie gasped. “For free?”

She laughed, “it’s complicated.”

“I grew up without a father, and Gideon neglected his son for his work at the BAU,” Spencer chimed in. “We bonded, and he wanted his house to be used for good. He specifically asked for us to fill it with love and laughter. We’ve just finished moving into it. You can visit any time!” He panicked and rambled by the end.

“I don’t know if you know this,” her mom tried to joke with them. “But there’s this thing called a phone, where you can call your mother and tell her these things.”

“I wanted to!” she hurried the words out. “But I’m still working in the field, I was weary with who really knew besides the team. It’s my only weakness on the job.”

“I get it,” Debbie smiled. “Honestly, I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N choked back tears. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Pregnant things, y’know.”

—

Visiting hours at the nursing home changed during the holidays. Spencer and Y/N were permitted to enter anytime between 8 am and 10 pm, giving them lots of time to spend the afternoon with Y/N’s parents before visiting her.

They borrowed her dad’s truck, driving to the nursing home with a special gift for Diana. Spencer had spent the last 2 weeks making a scrapbook page about Matthew for her, he knew how much her book meant to her and he wanted to add to it.

Her mom’s co-workers all stared at them as they walked in hand in hand. Her bump on show under the T-Shirt she chose to wear.

Diana was in her room, then walked down the long hallway to her suite. Knocking lightly on the door, waiting for her to greet them.

The door swung open, “Spencer!” She cheered. Hugging him tight in her arms.

“Hi mom,” he held her just as tight. Knowing he was a mama’s boy always made Y/N’s heart flutter.

She pulled back and looked at Y/N, “you look so nice!”

“Thank you,” she smiled. Stepping in close to give her a hug as well.

Diana welcomed them into her room, closing the door behind them. Y/N took a seat on the couch while Spencer looked around at the new things she had on display.

“I made you something,” he said softly, taking off his bag and pulling the pressed cardboard out of the protective sleeve. “here.”

She held it in her hands, looking at the ultrasound photo they got a few weeks ago at the anatomy scan. “What is this Spencer?”

“You’re going to be a grandmother,” he explained. Watching her run her fingers over the words on the paper. She was in shock, she had nothing to say. She just looked at the photo.

She quietly walked over to Y/N and sat beside her, “may I?” She asked, holding her hand up.

Y/N leaned back a little, “absolutely.”

Diana placed her hand on the bump lightly. “I was so worried I wouldn’t get to really experience this one day,” she whispered. Trying her best not to cry. “Thank you.”

Y/N cried, not realizing how special this must be for them. She was so focused on her family that she forgot that this was going to change Diana’s whole world. She now had 2 boys to love unconditionally.

“His name is Matthew?” Diana asked, running her hand over the bump softly.

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled. “He’s due in June. If you can, you can fly out and stay with us for a little?”

“I’d love to,” Diana replied. “I have enough points for a trip, and I’ve been feeling really good on my medication.”

“If your doctors clear it all, Debbie and you can fly in together,” Spencer confirmed.

“Wow,” Diana smiled like Spencer. Wide thin lips, straight white teeth, big rosy cheeks and glistening eyes. She hoped Matthew inherited it too. “This is my best Christmas yet.”

—

Y/N woke up Christmas morning with Spencer cuddled into her side in her childhood bedroom. She slipped out of his grasp and sat in her windowsill instead.

She pulled her knees to her chest as best as she could now that she was pregnant, looking at the lone swing across the street that swayed in the December morning breeze.

It should be 8 am back at Quantico, her parents must have let them sleep in while they opened presents. She could see Chloe in the front yard trying out her new car. Levi smiled as he pushed her down the road, Lizzie filming the whole thing on her phone.

Her whole life was so different from the last time she really sat on the windowsill in her bedroom. Back then she was about to move to Virginia, graduating college in Nevada and getting into the training program at the academy. Harrison was already there at Fort Meade, she was about to move into his house with his wife for the first semester before settling into DC. Levi and Lizzie had just started dating, Chloe wasn’t even conceived yet. And she had no idea when she’d run into Spencer.

She rubbed her hand over her belly as a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t wait for the day that she was pushing her own child on that swing across the street. The day she and Spencer tell him about the love story that bubbled between two kids with books who looked at each other for years before they fell in love.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, removing her from the moment she allowed herself to have.

She wiped the tear from her cheek, “they’re happy tears. Go back to sleep.”

“Come cuddle?” He pouted, his big puppy dog eyes drawing her back to the bed.

She snuggled into him, running her fingers against his bare chest as she watched him breathe. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” he kissed the top of her head.

“When I was 17, I had my appendix out.” She rolled over and laid back, showing him the 3-inch scar on the right side of her stomach. “It was pretty bad, they said I would have died if my mom waited 15 more minutes to get me to the hospital. They had to fix parts of my stomach and intestines that were eaten by the ruptured appendix bile.”

“I had no idea,” he whispered, running his finger along the scar. “I always thought that was just a scratch.”

She shook her head lightly. “It was December 5th, ’98. They uh,” she took a deep breath before resuming. “They put me on a drug called Dilaudid, they told my mom it was a non-addictive version of morphine and that I’d be fine but, I kinda got addicted to the pill version when they let me out,” she scrunched her face as she told him. Not wanting his opinion of her to change.

“You’re kidding?” He asked, a chuckle fell past his lips as he sat up. “In my second year at the BAU I was kidnapped by a man with dissociative identity disorder and he drugged me.”

“Dilaudid?” She asked, sitting up too and shaking her head in disbelief.

He laughed at how absurd it was, “yeah.”

“I moved to Benadryl for the sleepy and calm effect after I couldn’t get any more refills and didn’t want to admit I had a problem, and weed in college” she added. “but I haven’t even taken a Tylenol in the last 5 years now.”

“I had a small problem with it after everything, but I’m also clean now,” Spencer smiled at her. “Why did you want me to know?”

“Because I don’t want to take any drugs when I deliver the baby, even if I beg for them I don’t want them to give in. I talked to Dr. Korrapati about it but I wanted you to know too,” she explained. “Being in here all night got me thinking about a lot.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tackled her back against the pillows. “I love you,” was all he said.

“I love you too?”

“Seriously,” his voice was so soft and low. “I’ll never stop.”

chapter 19

She woke up to the feeling of hair tickling her face. She swatted at her face to try and get it to stop before opening her eyes. She blinked into the early morning sunlight, only to Spencer looking down at her, his hair long enough to tickle her skin.

“You were snoring,” he whispers down to her. “Also, Happy Birthday.”

She smiled, pulling him down and into a hug. “Thank you.”

Every morning with Spencer for the last 10 months had been special. Something about the warmth of his body against hers, and the sunlight bouncing around their new bedroom made this morning her favourite.

It was so calm on the water. She could see the snow settling on the ice as the sun made it glisten like diamonds. The birds had all but disappeared for the winter, the stillness in the world was lovely. It was like time stopped with Spencer laying in her arms.

“What do you think Penelope has planned at work today?” She asked him softly, playing with his incredibly long hair. It was almost longer than hers now.

“She told me to bring you in after 8.”

“So does that mean you have to distract me for a little while, Doctor Reid?” She teased him.

He pushed himself up, leaning on his arm as he hovered over her. “Any requests?”

She spread her arms and legs out like a starfish. “Have at ‘er,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as Spencer just shook his head.

He dipped down to her belly, blowing a raspberry onto her protruding bump. “Good morning to you too little dude,” he whispered against her skin. “Go back to sleep.”

She shoved him lightly, not able to stop herself from smiling, “he is asleep, leave him alone.”

It was the best morning ever.

Every time she thinks that she’s reached peak happiness she discovers another level. It felt like every time he touched her, she wanted to describe it as the best she’s ever felt.

When they finally got dressed and made their way downstairs for the morning, she found it incredibly odd that he wasn’t asking her what she wanted for breakfast, like he did every morning. Very concerned that she had all her meals and then some.

She fed the cat, picking him up and giving him a little snuggle after he finished his breakfast. “You are getting so big and chunky buddy, I might have to change your food timer.”

He meowed at her, sounding really pissed, making her laugh. “Fine but when you can't climb all the stairs in this house it’s your fault.” She placed him back on the ground and watched him wander into the sunlight. Plopping onto the hardwood and stretching out. Just living the life.

“Ready to go?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, are we stopping for breakfast?” She asked, the second trimester making her hungrier than ever before.

“Penelope has it covered,” He said, placing his hand on her back as he leads her to the foyer.

“Oh this’ll be good,” she smiled, putting her shoes on before arming the alarm and heading outside.

Spencer locked their beautiful green front door, it was colder out than they had expected. He held her hand as she shivered slightly, they walked down the 3 steps together, Spencer not wanting her to fall if it happened to be icy.

Seat heaters were a blessing from god. The car was freezing when they first got in, the heater barely kicked in by the time they reached Quantico. Living 10 minutes away now was really nice.

Up the elevator they went, she was basically bouncing with excitement. “See?” Spencer nudged her with his shoulder. “Bunny.”

“Shut up,” she smiled as the door dinged before opening.

They walked into the bullpen to find it empty. She took off her coat and placed her bag on her desk before slowly walking up the small set of stairs and heading towards the briefing room.

All her co-workers were sitting around the table waiting for her and the boy wonder to arrive. Strawberry cheesecake danishes sat on a tray on the table, a strawberry milkshake in front of Y/N‘s regular spot.

“Happy Birthday!” They cheered as she walked in.

“You guys!?” She was so flattered. Never in her life has she been thrown a party by someone who wasn’t her mother. “Thank you.”

“Sit, sit,” Penelope insisted. Placing a danish on a napkin and putting it on her spot on the table. “I know you can’t have ice coffee right now, I thought a milkshake was the next best thing.”

“I seriously love you, come here,” she pulled Penelope into a hug, kissing her right on the mouth as everyone cheered.

“See that?” Penelope blushed. “Kisses are how I should be thanked around here.”

“HR already hates us,” Hotch made everyone laugh, “don’t push it.”

They all ate breakfast together, sharing stories from their weekend. They decided to spend New Years’ apart, everyone taking time to themselves for the first time ever.

“Where did you go, Prentiss?” Morgan inquired.

“Sin to Win weekend in Atlantic City,” she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Oh my god?” Y/N looked at her with absolute astonishment.

“What’s that?” Morgan and Spencer asked at the same time.

“Nothing.” Emily and Y/N replied in unison. Making a look at each other that screamed: ‘tell anyone and I’ll hurt you.’

Like a saviour, the fax machine in the briefing room turned on, spitting out 15 sheets of paper in a few minutes. Penelope cleaned off the table while Hotch ran everything over.

“Last night a family in Boston had their home burned down with them inside it,” Hotch explained.

“How is that something for us to look into?” Rossi asked.

“Because the unsub broke in and turned the water off and tampered with the gas system, causing CO2 to render them unconscious. He stabbed the father to death in the bed before laying gasoline all over the floors and lighting the house on fire.”

“Damn,” Y/N whispered under her breath. “That is personal.”

“I’d say,” Hotch agreed.

“Who was the family?” JJ asked.

Garcia looked through the sheets of paper spewed across the table. “Thomas Greenway, 61. His wife Alison 43. And 2 children aged 8 and 12.”

“We need to head to Boston,” Hotch announced. “I’ll call about prepping the plane. Y/N you can stay here with Garcia if you’d like, your insight will aid her search greatly.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind,” she smiled at Garcia. “Good luck out there.”

“Wheels up in 30.”

Everyone sighed before standing up. Spencer leaned in and kissed Y/N softly before standing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Come home to me safely Doctor Reid.”

He smiled down at her, fixing his shirt before he left with Morgan.

“I hate to see him go, but I love watching him leave,” She said softly towards Penelope, making her laugh in the process.

“Come on mama, let’s go to my office,” Garcia said, putting her arm out for Y/N, the two of them skipping down the hallway with their arms linked as the team filled the elevator.

Y/N sat in Garcia’s office and immediately put her feet up, still drinking her milkshake as she flipped through the case files. “Can I suggest possibly the dumbest thing ever?”

She laughed, “shoot.”

“So, homeboy here breaks in and knocks out a family with co2 poisoning, just to stab the father to death and light the house on fire.” She ran it down once more, “What if we just search mothers stabbed before dying in a fire and just see if this is some traumatized kid, at this point that’s what they all end up being.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Garcia said, typing away as she added the parameters. “It’s like you can see the fucking future?”

Y/N threw her head back in a laugh, “did you get something? Seriously?”

“Adele Hollis was found dead in a burning apartment building in Boston in 1978. ME reports say she was already dead from co2 poisoning before she was stabbed 6 times in the chest. The whole apartment complex went up in flames after the unsub doused the bed in gasoline and lit her up.”

“Well fuck,” Y/N replied. “Does she have children?”

“Yes, her son Cameron was at school when it happened. He was 8, he moved in with his step-dad shortly after, they ruled him out and never found the guy,” Garcia added.

Y/N leaned across the desk and dialled Hotch, the plane hadn’t even left yet. “I think I found the unsub?”

“How?” Hotch asked.

“I jokingly asked Garcia to search and see if there are any men whose mothers died in a fire after being stabbed cause we deal with sooo many traumatized kids, and we found one,” she laughed at just how insane it sounded.

“Video in and give us a rundown.” Hotch hung up. Ever the conversationalist.

Garcia and Y/N squeezed into the same frame seeing everyone gathered in the little plane seats. She gave them the basic rundown of her findings, watching them all shake their heads at the fact she solved the case already.

“Have the local PD issue a warrant and bring him in. Can you check and see if he knows the victims?” Hotch asked.

“On it sir,” she smiled, clicking away.

“How did you do that so fast?” Morgan has to ask, “it’s not human.”

She laughed again, “If I’ve learned anything in the last 10 months it’s that traumatized little boys can fuck up a lot of people’s lives.”

“Preach,” Rossi added.

“Um, guys,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Cameron Hollis’s birth father is the father who was stabbed in this case.”

“You’re shitting me?” Y/N couldn’t believe it. “Do they have any kind of relationship?”

“His father is on the birth certificate but it looks like Adele left him when Cameron was 3, after some domestic disputes that had the cops at their door. She was remarried when he was 6, it doesn’t look like they ever really talked,” Garcia explained while continuing to dig.

Y/N watched through the monitor as the team gripped their seats, the plane was taking off now. They would be in Boston with this guy in just a few hours.

“Thanks, Lady Wonder,” Morgan winked at the camera for Y/N before leaning in and turning the monitor off.

She sat back and put her feet up once more. “Best birthday ever.”

—

They had Cameron Hollis in custody with a full confession before 5 pm that day. Everyone was beyond thankful that they would be back home with their families shortly.

Y/N had said goodbye to Penelope shortly after, driving home to have some alone time. Rossi would drive Spencer home, they lived close enough now that they could all carpool if they wanted.

She had never been in their new house all alone before. She took the time to just walk around and admire everything, being thankful that her life ended up like this. Not taking a second of it for granted.

She sat down on her bed finally, taking her phone out and calling JJ.

“Hello bestie,” she answered.

Y/N smiled, “Hey, do you think Will could find a babysitter tonight?”

“Probably, why?”

“Tell him to drop Henry off and head to my place. I’m going to have pizza delivered and you can come here with Spencer when you land,” Y/N offered. “Have a date night with us.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll call Will right now. See you later,” JJ sounded happy. It made her smile.

“See you.” She hung up, laying back against her bed softly.

She changed quickly before heading downstairs, wearing a pair of leggings and an academy t-shirt. She was getting too big for almost everything she owned now.

She placed an order for a few pizzas to arrive at 8:30. Next, making sure she had more beer in the fridge, for the nights when Will wandered over with JJ. They had visited almost every weekend since she and Spencer moved in.

That’s when she saw him.

chapter 20

Previously...

The dream was always the same:

A man would get into their home, he knew their schedule, he knew when she’d be alone.

He’d get in without any trouble and he never made a sound. She wouldn’t even know he was in the room until she felt the cold metal gun press against her face, as shaking hands instructed her to tie her own behind her back.

He’d always use her supplies. Duck tape, shoelaces, scarves. Anything at his disposal that he didn’t have to bring with him. Almost as if he didn’t fully choose her to be his victim until the very last minute.

He assaulted her all for what felt like hours, stopping occasionally to cry in the bathroom or eat a snack in their kitchen. And he always showered at the end. Sometimes, he’d wrap her up in a housecoat, put her sheets in the wash and sincerely advised her to invest in a better lock for the sliding door.

Then he was gone.

Slipping into the night, on his way to become someone else’s nightmare...

There was a man in her yard, he was dressed in all black, with a backpack wrapped around his shoulders and a ski mask on his face.

He couldn’t see her from where she was in the kitchen, but she could see him. She ducked to the floor and crawled towards the stairs, booking it up the steps and grabbing her gun. She made sure it was loaded, grabbing a second clip from her nightstand and tucking it into her pocket. Then she detonated the alarm system from the remote on Spencer’s bedside table.

She crawled into her closet, making herself look like a pile of clothes.

And she waited.

She felt a little insane, she tried to convince herself that it could be anyone from a neighbour to a lost person from the trail. For all she knew, it was someone from the academy lost in the woods.

She tried to calm her breathing, calling Will with her cell phone. “Hey, JJ just filled me in-“

“There is someone in my backyard in all black with a backpack, how fast can you get here?” She panicked in a whisper.

“Fuck, okay, I just dropped Henry off at the sitter. I’ll be right over, stay put and I will call you when I’m there,” his southern accent came out more when he was stressed.

“Okay, thank you,” she hung up and took a deep breath.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds in her house.

She remembered what the house sounded like that morning. The stillness, the quiet peacefulness of her and Spencer in the bed only 12 feet away from where she was now hiding.

She remembered the way the floors creaked as it popped and settled with the heat, how the tree outside would sometimes tap the window, the sound of snow tumbling off their roof. Passing cars on the main road kicking up gravel, the odd bird singing in the cold breeze, her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then she heard the alarm turn off with its overly happy welcome home chime. Only knowing one man would be able to disarm her alarm system without a code, and he was in the air right now.

“Open,” she heard the alarm’s voice as the door opened.

Footsteps travelled along the hardwood floor in wet shoes. She listened to the sound of the wet rubber on hardwood explore the first floor.

There were 2 people in her house, splitting up as one went to the kitchen and one went up the stairs.

She aimed her gun at the doorway, aiming to shoot anyone who walked through the door in the leg. Not wanting to kill anyone who she knew that might’ve gotten in for a different reason, unannounced.

In the rare happenstance that this wasn’t her worst nightmare coming true.

Her hands were shaking as she kept the gun pointed for what felt like hours, just waiting for him to find her. The door handle started to turn slowly, she heard the sound of the old metal grinding ever so slowly.

The first thing she saw were his eyes, yet again. The same eyes that haunted her dreams, the eyes every woman she spoke to for 2 years remembered from behind the ski mask.

Fuck Wichita, he was her own personal nightmare. He had been for a while. Those eyes, big and black all the way around, not a single glimpse of colour or life or hope. Every single dream came flooding back as she saw him in her doorway, the same aura of death, destruction, loneliness and despair from all those months ago was now filling the most special place in her home.

He still hadn’t seen her in the closet, looking around the room carefully as she watched him. Waiting for him to get closer, and closer to where she was. Finally peeling back the wooden closet door.

“Surprise, bitch,” She said before aiming higher and shooting him between the eyes, knocking him down.

She stood and stepped out of the closet, “Travis fucking Johnson,” she shook her head as she looked at the man bleeding on her bedroom floor. Taking his pulse to ensure that he was dead.

She couldn’t hear anything for a second, trying her best to zone in on the sound of someone tiptoeing in her kitchen, “WHO ELSE IS IN MY HOUSE?” She screamed.

Suddenly she could hear the sound of a car on the gravel and then a door slamming. She stepped into the hallway, gun pointed, looking over the railing towards the front door.

“Y/N?!” Will yelled. Gun pointed as he entered her house.

“I’ve got one down, I think there’s another in the kitchen,” she replied.

“On it.”

Y/N looked down the hall, none of the upstairs rooms were open, every door exactly how it looked when she ran up the stairs. She headed down the steps when 2 shots were fired.

She quickly ran to the kitchen to see another man on her floor behind the counter, his feet the only thing she could see as he laid there, dead. Will was standing over him, taking his pulse.

“He’s gone,” Will confirmed.

Y/N finally let herself panic, shaking as she tried to catch her breath, pulling out a chair from the counter and sitting down. Her adrenalin was running wild in her bloodstream, she didn’t even know how to speak let alone think about what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Will’s soft voice brought her back to reality. He was right beside her, wrapping his big strong arms around her to try and calm her down. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“Who was it?” Is all she asks him.

“I have no idea, who was upstairs?” Will asked.

“Travis Johnson, from my first case with the BAU,” she calmed down a bit, breaking away from the hug to get off the chair.

She walked around the counter island, looking down to find another man she knew, bleeding on her brand new hardwood floors. “Oh my god,” she felt sick at the sight.

He smelled the same, stale and rotten. The same look on his face even as he slipped into eternal damnation. Empty as when he was alive, pure evil down to his core. Dead to match how he felt inside as he did those awful things to undeserving mothers.

The second worst man she’s ever come in contact with.

The Winnemucca Womb Raider.

She backed up into Will, he held her close so she didn’t drop to the floor, helping her back into the chair. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” she felt herself starting to cry. “How? They were both in prison?”

“We need to call the police,” Will said softly before taking his phone out.

“911 what’s your emergency?” She could hear the muffled woman’s voice as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“This is Detective William LaMontagne Jr. Two men just broke into my friend’s home and tried to kill her,” he explained the situation, making her shutter.

She watched as he talked to the woman, suddenly not able to hear anything as her body slipped into shock. She was completely numb. In the last 10 months she hadn’t fired a single shot on the job, and yet on her birthday, the one time she's alone, she has to kill someone in her own home.

The place where she was supposed to feel safe and happy. Where her new life with Spencer and Matthew was supposed to start. They promised Gideon love and laughter, having that dream stripped from them when Pure Evil stepped over the threshold.

It was just like the dream, the last one she had before Spencer wrapped himself around her, calming her down.

This time he wasn’t here, he didn’t even know that this had happened, he wasn’t always going to be there to save her. She pulled herself back into the moment, calming herself like she had all those years before him.

She wasn’t a damsel in distress, he knew that.

A man walked into her home, the one time he knew she’d be alone and vulnerable.

That was the only part of the dream that matched.

Unlike her dream, she wasn’t a victim. Not in this house. Not in her space. Not ever.

The sound of the sirens echoed in her ears finally, she turned to the commotion of officers running into her new house. Will walked them through it all, telling them who Y/N was and that this was her home. How she saw a man in her yard and hid before killing him upstairs.

“Ma’am?” A stranger in a uniform tried to get her attention. “Ma’am, can you come with me?”

She nodded, standing up and finding support in the man’s arms. He wrapped her up in a silver blanket before he led her outside and into an ambulance. She had her vitals taken and an oxygen mask placed on her to help her calm down.

“Is the baby okay?” She asked the EMT, pulling the mask off her face so he’d hear her.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress but you need to relax so we can keep it that way.”

Will climbed into the ambulance then, taking her hand in his, “hey doll, are you okay?”

She nodded, “just a little shook up.”

“I called Spencer,” he said softly. “They’re 30 minutes from landing, then him and the team are on their way. No one told the team about the prison break in Oklahoma, they didn’t even think to connect them back to you.”

She sighed, “two cases in 2 different states, where the offenders ended up going to a 3rd state to meet and do time together and bond over the women who put them away. Makes sense.”

“You put them both away?” He asked.

She nodded again. “I basically made it my life goal to get Travis Johnson, he’s the reason I have this job, he’s the reason I’m pregnant right now,” her words trailed off into whispers. “I saw him in November, he congratulated me when he saw the bump.”

“Who was the other guy?”

“The Winnemucca womb raider, he would kill pregnant women by strangling them before removing their wombs,” she looked at him, horrified. “They wanted to kill us...”

She wrapped her arms around her own stomach, she had almost forgotten to worry about him. To even think that she was more than just one person at the moment.

They weren’t after her, they were after the most important thing to her. Her son, her baby boy. Like all the mothers before her, like their own. They wanted her to suffer, for her son to be spared a future worse than death in their opinion.

All the images from the cases came flying back as she blinked faster and faster. Strangled women, removed wombs, thanking God for a second that Spencer was the one to see the recovered organs in his trailer. A sick feeling bubbled in her body, a chill ran deep in her bones.

Then everything went black.

—

The first thing she remembers when she gained consciousness again was that Spencer was furious. She could see him and Hotch in a heated conversation from inside the ambulance, she tried her best to wake up and zone in on what was going on.

It was too dark for her to read their lips, but he was angry.

JJ was sitting beside her now, holding her hand. “Hey, bestie.”

“Did the cat get out?” She doesn’t know why that’s the first thing she asks, “the door was left open, did he get out?” Still in shock, still trying to understand everything.

JJ shushed her, petting her hair as she leaned in close, hugging her softly. “He was in the laundry room, Will said he made sure to find him when you were getting checked out.”

“Good,” she nodded along as she listened. “I’m so overwhelmed.”

JJ let out an awkward laugh, “I can imagine.”

“I’m also starting to fall in love with your husband,” she found her sense of humour then. “He has perfect timing.”

JJ laughed a little harder, causing Spencer’s focus to shift to the ambulance. Y/N watched him run towards it and jump in.

“Y/N, oh my god,” Spencer wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m safe, the baby’s healthy,” she assured him.

He kissed her all over her face, making her giggle when he wouldn’t stop, repeating kisses all over her face, her ears and her neck. She could hear JJ also laughing as she watched with Hotch just outside.

He finally stopped to catch his breath, hugging her again with his face in her neck. “I love you,” she reminded him.

“You love me?” He pulled back, “I love you so fucking much, I am never leaving you alone again.”

“Spencer,” she laughed, “I think I handled it pretty well.”

He huffed and shook his head, “you shouldn’t have had to handle this in the first fucking place! It’s not that fucking hard for someone to call the god damn FBI and say hey two psychopaths that your genius new girl put behind bars, fucking escaped!”

She finally knew what Hotch meant when he said Spencer’s anger scared him. She looked at him like he was a whole different person, “Spence, baby, I know. It’s okay, I’m fine see?”

She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked into his beautiful hazel eyes, watching his pupils change size as he focused on her. Love and life behind them, true happiness clouded by horror at the thought of losing the love of his life.

He was what a true man was supposed to be, a real genuine person with love and kindness, and empathy. Her soulmate, her Spencer.

“We can’t control everything, that’s what you told me. We handle what’s in front of us, and we do it well,” she smiled as she reminded him.

Spencer started to cry, pulling her in close. “I can’t lose you.”

She cried at the sound of his voice, his heart shattering as he cried in her arms, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Terrified on a level she’s never seen in him before.

She rubbed his back as she held him, rocking him lightly as she shushed him absentmindedly. Soothing him as if her life depended on it, it broke her heart to see him this broken about the idea of losing her. She loved him so much it made her heart physically ache in her chest as she held him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, whispering against his hair. “I’ll kill a million men if it means coming home to you.”

He laughed in the middle of his cries, she could feel him smile softly as he sniffled against her shirt. “Promise?” He asked as he pulled back to look at her.

She wiped the tears from his cheeks, his beautiful eyelashes clumped together in the wetness. He was so sweet, she couldn’t help kissing him quickly, “promise.”

—

Hotch insisted they head to the BAU with the rest of the team while he handled the crime scene and the forensic clean-up, knowing on a personal level what it was like to clean Evil’s blood out of your bedroom carpet.

Y/N was sitting in the car waiting to leave when she saw Will coming out of her house with 3 pizzas. “I forgot I ordered those,” she gasped at the sight.

“You should’ve seen the look on the delivery guy’s face,” JJ laughed.

It was really bizarre having a pizza party in Rossi’s office after shooting someone in her home. Everyone was trying to be as chipper as possible to try and take the tension off the situation, but Y/N was pretty quiet.

Morgan got everyone to settle down before closing the office door, sitting close to her and Spencer. “Everyone in this room has either been shot, in danger, held hostage or worse,” he offered her some support.

“If you want to share anything, express any feeling or just tell us to fuck off, you can,” his words were soft, she watched him with soft eyes as he spoke.

“The only thing I can think of is that fate is fucked up,” she replied, the honesty slipping off her tongue like it was made of butter.

“You have the floor,” he insisted that she continue.

“I moved into a tiny apartment, farther away from my job, because I needed somewhere to live, and I found Spencer in the hallway. Spencer led me to you, and you guys helped me find Travis Johnson, my personal nightmare case of 2 years,” she explained like they never knew that. “But it’s so much more than that now.”

“We ran into Travis at the prison in Oklahoma a few months ago,” Spencer added. “He noticed that she was pregnant and congratulated her.”

“But the thing that’s fucking me up the most is that, and sorry TMI,” she warned them before continuing. “but we conceived the baby in Kansas when we caught the VICAP counsellor, only a few towns over from where we arrested Travis. Then we ran into him on a different case in Oklahoma, and he happened to be in the same prison as a man from New Mexico I put away for killing pregnant women. Something about this all lines up so perfectly... I hate that I find it so interesting.”

“That is kind of insane,” Morgan agreed. “I think it just means you and Spencer are being pulled together by something with bigger plans than you realize. And you’re a good shot, so thankfully you have nothing to worry about now.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

She held Spencer’s hand, looking down at the ring on her finger that meant she was his forever. As much as she hated the idea of a man owning a woman, she loved the idea that Spencer was her person forever.

They were tied together in a way no one would understand, she loved him deeper than she ever thought possible.

Everything happened for a reason. Her reason just so happened to be Fate wanting her to spend the rest of her life, Happily with Doctor Spencer Reid.

—

She woke up around noon the next day, Spencer was sitting up beside her reading a book when she finally clued into where she was. They had spent the night at Rossi’s house while the forensic cleanup team handled her kitchen and bedroom.

“Good morning,” she smiled up at him, stretching against the sheets as she fully woke up.

He put his book down and joined her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her neck softly.

“Good morning,” he replied finally. She loved his voice when he hadn’t spoken yet. His vocal cords yearning to be used.

She smiled against his skin, holding him against her chest as she breathed him in. Her safety, her cosmic soulmate.

Everything just felt better in the world when they were pressed this close to each other. This was how they were meant to be.

“How are you feeling?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

She rolled him onto his back, snuggling into his chest and lifting a leg over him so the baby wasn’t squished. “Good, I’m excited to go back home later.”

“You’re not scared,” his fingers ran through her hair as she felt his breath on her face.

“No,” she shook her head against him. “Yesterday could’ve been a lot worse, but I’m trained to think on my feet and the danger is gone now. I’m never going to let myself be a victim in my own home.”

“I love you,” he reminded her. “And after yesterday-“

“I want to get married soon too,” she cut him off, getting up and sitting on his hips. She ran her hands over his chest as she looked down at his beautiful, still puffy, morning face.

He beamed up at her, “I feel it too, I want to make it official. I want to shout it from the rooftops that the love of my life chose me too.”

She nodded softly, “and we agreed that in April this year we’d go to Vegas, and we’d do it. I think we still should, I just want to plan it a little.”

“Of course,” he agreed, squeezing her thighs in his excitement. “Come here.”

She held his face in her hands as she leaned down, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip as she looked at him ever so softly. “I love you,” she said before kissing him.

His hands wandered over her back, holding her into the kiss. Breathing in deep through his nose, kissing her as if they hadn’t seen each other in months.

Spencer was desperate to love her, and she was desperate to be loved by him.

She broke the kiss to just look at him, moving his hair back and pressing her forehead against his. “The park across the street from my parents house,” she whispered.

“Mhmm.”

“I want to get married there, I want to start the rest of my life in the spot where I first really fell in love with you,” she explained, her lips close enough to him that the words could have stuck to his skin.

“I think I can pull some strings and get us a permit by April,” He smiled against her lips, “what day are we thinking?”

“The 23rd, 1 year exactly,” she said before Spencer pulled her back into another kiss, this time it’s soft and delicate. “Until forever,” she whispered against his lips.

“You need to promise me one thing,” he added. Feeling her nod as she kissed down his neck. “I know you said you’re fine, but the second you’re not I need you to tell me.”

“Okay,” she agreed, sitting back up as she straddled his hips. “You have to do the same, I can’t handle you crying in my arms like that again, it really broke my heart.”

He held his pinky out to her, she smiled as she wrapped her own around his. Both leaning in to kiss the other's knuckle, a small tradition Y/N adored.

—

They were back at their house by 5 pm. Hotch had ensured that everything was completely cleaned and there was 0 evidence that a crime had even taken place on the property. Penelope on the other hand had taken it upon herself to break into their alarm system and reset it for them shortly after everyone left.

They changed the code, closed the door and sighed at the beautiful home that felt a little different now. “I think I want to paint,” she announced.

“Yeah?” Spencer laughed at the suddenness.

“It’s too blah, y’know? I see what they were doing with the whites and beige for all the light. But, I’m thinking green in here to flow with the cabinets in the kitchen,” she walked through the foyer as she imagined the colours that would look good. “Like an olive or forest, maybe even jade. It’ll look nice with the dark wood.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed. “Make it feel more like the old apartment.”

“Exactly,” she smiled. “I miss the clutter and the intimacy of the last place, and I know you miss the look of books everywhere.”

“I’m still alphabetizing them in my office,” he added. “I’d like to paint in there as well, I’ve been looking at antique chairs and couches for my reading.”

“Hotch is going to make us take 2 weeks off again,” Y/N looked at him with excitement. “We can put all our energy into this place now.”

“Let’s make it ours,” He agreed.

“Wanna go to the hardware store and look at paint samples?” She hopped with excitement, grabbing his arm and tugging on him.

He laughed, pulling her into his chest. “Sure, bunny,” he pressed his cheek to the top of her head as he held her. “What about Matthew’s room?”

“Oh, me and Penelope have it all planned, all the stuff is being delivered next month. She kinda went a little nuts,” Y/N laughed.

“He’s going to be one loved little boy,” Spencer chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”

#hypothetically #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

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entertainmentnerdly · 6 years ago

Photo

Astronaut LIFE: Colorado’s Sierra Nevada preps an inflatable space house for NASA testing via /r/space https://ift.tt/2CXi2NA

#reddit #Astronaut LIFE: Colorado’s Sierra Nevada preps an inflatable space house for NASA testing

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airmanisr · 4 years ago

Video

flickr

Dream Chaser Test Vehicle Preps for Tow Tests by Robert Sullivan Via Flickr: Sierra Nevada Corporation's Dream Chaser engineering test vehicle was towed across the ramp at NASA's Dryden Flight Research Center in preparation for tow tests on a Dryden taxiway.

#Dream Chaser #aircraft #spaceship

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ambistep · 5 years ago

Text

We Can Make It Work

~4.2k words, stupid long, gratuitous gang plans, a real somft ending, i promise

Tags: retribution spoilers. cw - killing, guns, Argentstep, the gang!! not sure

Mina has session with Dr. Finch - it goes well this time. In fact, many things are going well lately! Also I wanted to write about the gang, and i always want to have argent stuff

---------

“You seem well - more confident. Happier?” Finch is smiling. Mina is smiling. This is good. “I wish I could take some credit but it’s been awhile since our last session. I thought you might not be coming back.”

Mina sinks back into the comfortable chair, “Sorry, I just have been really busy lately.”

“...I started a new project at work.”

A small sodium work lamp illuminates the workbench and the corkboard on the wall before it. Neat files of illicit records and stacks of purloined documents, a laptop aglow with… research, photos, stock news, articles. Mina’s nimble fingers spear a set of blueprints to the board.

It was a trickle at first - but with time, the board had grown very crowded indeed, a tangled rat’s nest of ties, connections and data points. The squeaking chorus nearby liked it when she thought of it as such.

Vanderpoel had talked to Ochoa about the congressional aide who handled the senator’s dirty laundry - Mina had been monitoring Mia. The aide was careful, but simply didn’t have the security of his boss. His mind had been an oily, porous sick sort of place, riddled with compromise and low cunning - it yielded readily before Clarity. A swift crack, and all kinds of goodies spilled out, enough that sifting through it had become difficult. Now, though, now she had the names necessary to get started.

“I’ve been trying to be better about working as part of the team.”

The warehouse was dusty, filled with forgotten pieces of abandoned start-ups or rarely used equipment, the space leased by a firm with little memory of it - Mina had made certain it was forgotten. A flash young gun in a slick suit is chattering about gear specs with a slightly older Modded muscle who is dutifully ignoring him while trying to unpack and assemble gear with their clawed prosthetic. Another modded fellow lounges on the sofa, pouring over a flight manual.

Across the way, an odd pair, a rough, heavily-modded soldier and a grinning young girl who seems like she might have walked off campus at UCLD are listening intently, studying floor plans. All authority in the room flows from the scarred, severe woman laying out her plan point by point.

“...ZaZa sits tight on overwatch, Boris stays put at the helipad. Rest of us sweep the executive level, and split into pairs. Pelayo, you’re with Nehal, while Ward and -” She pauses, hearing the question form in Pelayo’s mind, “while Ward and I secure the target.”

“The kid can back you with the target, no? How much back-up you need in that suit, boss?” Pelayo brushes his knuckles over his stubble, a nervous tic.

Smoothly, softly, Mina shuts down Pelayo’s concern, “You need to cover Nehal while she makes sure we only set off the alarms we want to go off, and then you need to be there to place our parting gift. Ward will be fine with me, I’ve got their back. Are we clear?”

Pelayo hesitates, measuring his unwillingness to separate from Ward versus testing the boss. It was a good job - Clarity pays well and on time, gives them plenty of prep time. And most importantly in this city, she seems mostly sane. Looked a little young, but she didn’t get those scars playing tennis, and the plans were solid, smart. So if she said Ward went up and he went down... “Ay, we clear.”

Clarity looks him dead on. That ‘this isn’t going to be a problem?’ look. He knows it.

Pelayo nods, “Don’t worry about it.”

Nehal, surreptitiously studying the utility plans, in utter enchantment, “I think, on some level, I always wanted to be an arsonist.”

“...I’ve been going out a bit more.”

Ward didn’t quite understand how Clarity’s trick worked, but watching the grey cloud slowly eat through the vaulted security door to the executive suite was a treat. Nehal had made sure to cut off communications from the CEO’s office - and the target had predictably locked down his suite.

What they hadn’t expected was a Modded security officer waiting for them.

Clarity steps through the hole that was a steel-reinforced door, imperious dark armor and gleaming face mask emerging wreathed in the nanovores’ smoky cloud. The vocal distorters don’t conceal her amusement, “Could it be? The Grey Guardsman? No longer cutting taxes, I see.” Shielded. So that’s why she hadn’t sussed out his presence in advance.

The corporate hero draws his signature carbon-steel longsword, squaring off - making a good show of confidence, pointing his blade, “And I recognize you, villain - I may no longer serve TaxTech, but we still do a swift trade in justice here at Promethean.”

Clarity coolly wraps an armored gauntlet around the blade. The Rat-King gleefully guides them as they chew apart the weapon, and Mina sighs behind her mask. She always really liked that sword. “Stand aside, Guardsman. This scum isn’t worth fighting for.”

Sure, he’s a company stooge, but Charge had introduced him to Sidestep, and it hurts to admit, but… maybe some part of Mina would regret crushing him too badly. A reminder of a more innocent time.

Enough to distract her from the fact that he’s still coming - his ambitious, ridiculous plan of punching her thwarted by Ward’s iron grip around his wrist. Clarity’s lapse in conviction is rectified - a solid blow to the head from her armored gauntlet and Ward drops him to the floor.

She sighs, and nods her head in gratitude to Ward. That should leave only the target in the office proper. A heavy book is enough kick through the ordinary door. A portly older fellow sits still in his chair, trying to appear unafraid, trying to hold his composure. “Wh-what is it that you want? I am prepared to c-cooperate.”

A VIP, a defense contractor, someone with his security clearance would have some training to resist telepathic interrogation - enough to maybe stop Sidestep. Not so for Clarity, but still maybe enough to slow down the process, complicate things. “Ward, sedative.” The man yelps as she reaches across the desk to grab him.

“Got it, Boss.” Ward’s surprisingly deft with the needle. The suit makes pinning him to the desk a trivial thing, and the injection goes in just as easily.

“Now, then. I’m not to be disturbed.” Ward takes the order and leaves Clarity to her prey. The quivering executive yields easily, meager protections cracking like safety glass under the first real pressure.

Clarity is rewarded - almost immediately. He knew why they were here. He knew immediately exactly which part of Promethean’s many contracts had brought Clarity here. A dry Nevada desert. Security clearances and classified paperwork. Contracts with no questions asked. A service for his country. It made him feel good to be a patriot - that is what she discovers. It makes her feel… something else entirely. Seething, black, bloody --

“Oh, shit, is he dead, boss?” Ward sneaks a look into the office. Mina recoils immediately from the man - blood runs from his nose and… not dead yet, a stroke, maybe. She can feel the trickle of his mind, faint, pooling out. Fine - better than what he deserved. She’d planned to wipe his memory and cover her intrusion but a stroke worked just as well.

“We’re leaving.” Clarity stalks out of the office, opening a channel for the rest of the team, “I have what we came for. Exit team?”

The office fills with sirens and red lights, Nehal’s voice in her helmet, “Oh, we’re good.”

“Then we’re done.”

A whining voice cuts over the radio, “I didn’t even get to shoot anything.”

“Next time.”

“I feel like the job really gives me a chance to express myself.”

“And you’re getting along with your co-workers? I know you were worried about your social anxiety.”

“I think we understand each other.”

“Shh, guys!” Nehal fumbles for the remote to turning up the volume on the television. Pelayo and Ward are still stripping down and checking the gear. Boris, ZaZa, they share beers, but Clarity - unarmored - settles down to sit on the floor next to the girl.

“...Veronica Sandoval, live from downtown, where responders are still battling a two alarm fire at an office building. Now, authorities aren’t saying what caused the fire but I can tell you two that two patients were taken to city hospitals with non-life threatening injuries. The building is the headquarters of Promethean, which is described on it’s website as a medical device and biotech company, and a defense contractor. A spokesman with the fire depart…”

“Show it, show it, yes!” Nehal laughs triumphantly as the camera cuts to footage from a news helicopter, showing the fully-engulfed front face of the building lighting up the nightline of downtown Los Diablos. “Fucking fascists. Clar, look.” She grabs the boss’s shoulder then suddenly recoils.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I jus-” The boss didn’t like to be touched.

Clarity keeps her face tight, and just nods, “It’s good, don’t worry about it.” She leans back, trying not to brush off the spot where Nehal’s hand had landed, “Glad you had fun - next job is going to be harder - but a bigger score.”

That gets everyone’s attention. Pelayo and Ward, consummate professionals, gather up. “You got the next job lined up already?”

“Almost. Preparation will take some time - I’ll be in touch. Payment will find you like usual.”

That’s good enough for Ward and Pelayo, they’re veterans, professionals, used to this stuff. ZaZa always liked the money but hated authority almost as much, and relished any chance to shoot his guns off. Nehal liked Clarity’s politics and… had some sort of admiration for the boss. Mina makes a note to curtail that - nobody should be looking up to her, for God’s sake. Boris just liked the steady pay - everyone seemed much nicer than the Wolfpack, anyway.

“We talked about wearing masks last time. How they can be useful for letting us function in social or workplace environments, but they can also be used to keep people away, to isolate. How are you doing with masks, Mina?”

“Still using masks, I’ll admit. But I did take your advice about getting out of the city for a little bit.”

“Shit, it’s hot. Fucking Mojave.” He wipes his brow, wicking away the sweat.

“Focus, ZaZa.” The boss’s voice reassures him in his earpiece. For some reason, her voice always seemed to calm his nerves. Lady was creepy like that.

ZaZa tapped at the relay device, shielding the small monitor from the sun’s glare and flicking between cameras, “Visual on target. Right on schedule.”

A massive, heavily armored tractor trailer, unlabeled, barrels down Interstate 40. On either side, two black SUVs bearing out-of-state license plates. Clarity tried to zoom in the image on her helmet’s HUD. At the bottom of the plate, curly black text reminds her ‘HOME MEANS NEVADA.’ The thought makes her queasy. And violent. Maybe that’s good. Maybe she needs that push.

“Remember. Stick to the plan, watch out for each other. They’ll be contractors, ex-military but the kind who take it seriously. Maybe with mods. They will kill on sight. And we have to be fast.” If she is right, and she knows she must be at this point, then there would be a response - even out here in the Mojave. “Masks up. Time starts at contact.”

In the back of the van with the boss, Pelayo and Ward slip down the sleek silvery facemasks Mortum had prepared for the team - not as robust or tricked out as Clarity’s, but more on par with… well, with Sidestep’s. Up front, Nehal’s already had hers on - she’d hardly taken it off.

The masks are important - Mina knows. It puts distance between the person and the world in front of them, lets you detach from violence, from danger, emboldens you. It lets you invent someone who can do the things you need to do, to become someone who can survive. She’d put on a mask to become Clarity. A mask to become Sidestep. ...a mask to become Mina.

Boris’s voice crackles over the comms, “Boss… Boss. I got visual. ZaZa, don’t god damn miss.”

He sounds nervous - this is a bit more than he signed up for. Clarity eases back into her seat, reaching out, fingers in five minds, familiar minds. Nothing aggressive, no pushing - you touch too much and they might stiffen up or stop trusting their instincts. Only the lightest, caressing touches, gentle nudges.

She has to admit, she loves this part, feels born to it. She’d learned that with the Wolfpack - nothing felt so pleasant as coaxing her crew along towards victory, allaying their fears and… coordinating. Boris’s anxiety is sweltering, Nehal has uncomfortably little anxiety - the girl is… special. Ward, too, isn’t so certain. Clarity turns to look at Ward, looking past the facemask, and then speaks to Boris, “Easy, we trained for this. Your truck is reinforced. Take cover below the dash when you make contact. We’re professionals.”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Relax, man, I don’t miss.” He’s almost as good as he thinks he is.

Nehal guns it, pedal to the floor, gaining on the convoy in front of her, empty desert tracking past.

Boris’s tractor trailer heads down the highway westbound, staring down the convoy. He accelerates and… swerves into the oncoming lane. The lead driver reacts but not fast enough.

The eighteen-wheeler plows into the black SUV with a tortured symphony of wailing metal, crunching glass and scraping on pavement.

It would almost be hard for anyone to even notice the thunderous boom of the anti-material rifle punching into the engine block of the convoy’s transport. Even as it plows into the back of the SUV in front of it, the shots keep coming, again, and again, and again.

The back of the escort pulls up alongside the convoy and brakes, scrambling, deploying, trying to find cover. And Nehal comes in ready, swinging the van sideways. Pelayo, Ward, they toss the smoke grenades and take positions behind the van. Nehal ducks down for cover in the driver’s seat, clutching her machine pistol.

And then it is the boss’s show. The van raises up as the bulk of Clarity’s armor sets foot on the highway. There is a burst and clatter of small arms fire - striking the van, some even striking her - but she simply walks into it, embracing the attention. Their thoughts are frantic, aggressive - more of them are holed up in the transport with the cargo. Someone is calling for backup, notifying command - she stops in place and squeezes this mind, even through the ratatatat plinking. Stop. Now. Squeezing. Breaking this mind.

No need for too much delicacy - this is the enemy.

The one she had been waiting to strike at for so long. Not these men and women, but… everything they serve. That should be enough - it’s still harder than she’d thought, using her powers this way. Not entirely true - it is easy, really. Frighteningly easy. But it feels hard for Mina.

That’s why she has on Clarity’s mask.

The gunfire stops - someone… Oh someone has a plan. One of the soldiers is retrieving heavy ordinance, she can feel the thoughts, the plans. “Pelayo.” Some mental guidance, and he turns out of cover and brings down the would-be hero with deft fire from his rifle.

The Rat-Kings continue to help Clarity guide all focus towards her, all aim toward her, soaking up all this attention, though they care none too much for the noise, chittering in a right good panic.

“Advance.” Ward comes out from cover, then Pelayo, picking off aggressors. Now and again, another boom from ZaZa in the distance when he finds a shot - sometimes even when he doesn’t.

“Breach.” There’s still two holed up in the transport, their thoughts easy to sniff - patient, trained. Weirdly confident, that’s unnerv-

“Boss! Ward’s hit!” Clarity turns her head. How had she not noticed? Ah, Ward had barely noticed themselves.

“I’m good, we’re good.” Ward is always good - undersells everything. Pelayo’s still worried, but a quick check and Clarity is sure Ward is telling the truth.

“No heroics - cover our backs. Focus.” A quick nudge to keep everyone on mission. On mission - that notion… again makes Mina queasy. Her handler’s voice, she talked about… staying on mission. Clarity helps her push past the discomfort. “Breaching.”

As Clarity prepares to ready the nanovores to crack open the transport, the tailgate volunteers itself, swinging wide. There’s no time to react to the small explosive that impacts - only strong enough to cause her to stumble, thank you once again, Mortum.

Two gleaming, power-suited soldiers climb out of the truck, and Clarity almost has to laugh. Two hundred miles from Los Diablos, and she still finds two tin discount imitations of Marshal Steel.

“ZaZa.”

Another blast of thunder and one suit drops. The other starts to react, but the distraction is more than enough to open a wide hole in their thoughts - Clarity psychically punctures what light mental preparation he had and buries a shiv in his mind.

And like that, the highway is quiet.

Pelayo checks the first escort, giving a clear. Boris chimes in with the next. Nobody else is getting up. Ward and Nehal follow Clarity to the truck and begin to unload the cargo.

Another mental nudge for the team - keep everything quick, everything snappy. Clarity runs through the plan - they don’t need the reminders, but she has to say something, keep the adrenaline up so she doesn’t think about… consequences. “Pack it up, ZaZa. Boris will pick you up. The rest of you, we’re taking it all, strip it down and clean it enroute.”

Every moment they aren’t talking, all she can hear is her heart. This is them, these are… This really is them. It is terrifying, crushingly horrifying, every part of her wants to scream, run. They will be coming, this was a mistake, how could she have been so ridiculous? Hitting them like some jewel heist, with a gang of robbers? All her thoughts are that they will find her and kill her. That there’s a team from the Special Directive in the air right now, ready to deploy.

It could even be true.

“Clar? Clarity?”

Nehal waves a hand in front of her mask, her own silver mask tilted in concern, “Boss, time to go.”

And so it is.

It isn’t until they’re on the road, off the interstate, and all the cargo is clean that panic finishes bleeding through her system, that Clarity clicks and removes her helmet. Had they really done it? Had she… Could she have really drawn blood from the people who made her and lived?

“Can’t believe it, right? Imperialists, highway robbery with government spooks.” Nehal glances over to the passenger seat and holds out a candy bar, a smirk glued on her face - at least she’s taken off her mask.

Clarity peers at the young girl, graciously accepting the candy. She takes a small bite, “You’re a really weird kid, Nehal.” Looking over her shoulder to the back of the van, “How’s Ward?”

Pelayo still looks a little nervous - she’s always surprised by how worried that man can look, “They’re good.”

Ward gives a nod, “One got through on the leg, just grazed. Be healed by morning.” Clarity frowns, but seems satisfied with this.

Two hours, and well on their way to the detour in Old Fresno - when ZaZa and Boris sent their all clear… That’s when Mina can finally, fully feel satisfied that there’s no team of branded monsters - monsters like herself - stalking them, no ghostly assassins. Maybe this really was a victory - maybe they really pulled it off. Had she overestimated them? No, she had cautiously estimated them, she chides herself. She didn’t make it this far without being careful.

“How did that go, travelling?”

“Better than I expected - I was still really nervous, the whole time.”

“When we last met, you were telling me you had been seeing someone?”

“Did I say that?”

“You did. Getting sloppy?”

“...Must have slipped out.”

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“...Well. It’s been going well. I got her a gift the other day. While I was out of town. The perfect thing.”

“Did she like it?”

“I haven’t shown her yet. But I know she will.”

“Why’d I have to come all the way out here? Is this where you keep your smelly little lair?” Ximena wrinkles her nose, standing out in the open lot, kicking at dirt idly.

“Oh please. Like I’d take my girlfriend to my secret lair.” Mina smirks - being with her always brings out the best. Crouching down, she brushes away some dirt and pops a key into a padlock and yanks open a rusty metal cellar door.

She scoffs, “Padlock, huh.” Mina grins smugly, leading the silvery heroine further down below.

“For the record, my lair smells like flowers.”

“Ooo. Is that a clue?” She pokes Mina in her smug little nose

“Maybe. Come on, this way.” She grabs Ximena’s hand, tugging her along, getting far too excited.

The whole place looks like nobody’s been there in years, but that’s part of the charm - Mina’d been here just this morning. A false wood panel in a support beam yields a keypad. Playfully shielding the pad from Ximena’s eyes, Mina punches in the code, allowing a false wall to slide open.

“Just for the record, I knew that was there.” Ah, right. All those neat little extra senses she had.

“Well, thank you for humoring me. I wanted to put on a little show.” Mina leans, taking both of her hands, and squeezes them, leading her slowly into the small storage vault.

“What is this?” Ximena’s voice lowers a little, eyeing the gunmetal grey case resting on a table in the middle of the room. The name ‘PROMETHEAN’ stamped on front. There’d been more boxes, with different bits of technology or equipment, rare, valuable. Some she’d given to the good doctor Mortum to play with. The rest she’d sold to Hollow Ground at a considerable discount - a show of good faith. Clarity had been all too happy to let Mr. Manalo take it all off her hands - and the payment was still more than enough to keep the crew happy.

Now there was just this one case.

“The lock was a little tricky…” Mina is radiant, glowing with pride as she places her thumb on the fingerprint scanner. A soft ding and a green light unlocks the case. “...really, anyone can open it now that I broke the lock... My fingers don’t actually have any prints anyway.” She holds up her hands and wiggles her fingers for emphasis.

Ximena smirks, locking her left hand with Mina’s. “I like them.” She leans in and kisses a digit lightly, “Just.” A kiss. “The way.” A kiss. “They are.” And a kiss. Mina’s smile fixes in place, cheeks flushed red, her thoughts going all kinds of places then crashing, brain shutting down - until Ximena’s snorting laugh helps her recover. “So, what’s in the box?”

“A present.”

Popping the case open slowly, there is a hiss of frosty, chilled air spilling out into the heat of the dry basement. The interior of the lid is labeled with serial numbers and barcodes - uncomfortably familiar barcodes, if Mina allowed herself to think about it. She most notably does not allow herself to think about it. Not now. She watches Ximena’s gleaming face, waiting for that moment of recognition.

Chilled and lit by a sinister - to Mina’s reckoning - orange light, clasped in the middle of the case, three processing chips, a solid state storage device, a handful of cellulose wetware chips and the jewel, the real prize.

“How did you..?”

“Don’t ask. I told you I’d find one.”

An innocent enough looking device. Inscrutable to almost anyone else - but not to Mina. Not to Ximena. A particular, specific protein printer, and all the pieces needed to make it work. The kind of thing that would look nestled right at home in the heart of a certain regenerator prototype.

“I promised I would,” Mina’s voice shakes, unsteady. A lump welling in her throat as she sees the recognition, the relief on Ximena’s face. All that this means. For either of them. For both of them. All that it could mean. Infinite things. Anything. Everything.

She pulls Mina in too hard, arms around tight, squeezing, “You think we can make it work?” It’s her turn, even her voice gets weak.

Mina sniffs, feeling her control slipping, her mask pulled down, and a tear runs down her cheek as she buries her head into Ximena’s shoulder, leaning into the hug. She tries to speak but it is hard to put any strength in her voice, “...yeah, we can make it work.”

They hold tight, hungry for two whole lives of affection, and touch, and tenderness. Starving for intimacy that had been out of reach, once for all time. Now… Now within reach. Ximena asks it again, “We can make it work?”

Mina had told her. Told her weeks ago. About the machine. About their relationship. About their whole lives.

The answer was the same.

“We can make it work.”

This time, she even believes it herself.

#fhr #fallen hero: rebirth #sidestep #lady argent #mina oh #scribbly #and the gang!#i love the gang!!#way too long

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codeblve · 5 years ago

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howdy y’all ! lilac’s the name, writing trashlord character’s the game. i hail from a lil island known as australia... so in essence, i am never gonna be online at the same time as anyone else dkjfghdkfjgd. but !! don’t let this deter you. like a lil ol’ boomerang i’ll eventually find my way into your dms and hopefully we can plot/write with all your incredible muses. <3 a lil info about me though, i’m a tea connoisseur, sims enthusiast, and i talk daily about how i consider the barbie films cinematic masterpieces. if i haven’t scared you off and you’d like to get to know my sweet and memey tough boi, please press that readmore to complete your transaction.

⌠LUKE HEMMINGS, TWENTY ONE, CISMALE, HE/HIM⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, BLUE HAWTHORNE! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in AWARENESS TRAINING, BREATH CONTROL, HAND TO HAND COMBAT + COVERT OPERATIONS (CP); and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (a smiley face traced into the precipitation on a mirror after a long and warm shower, a constellation of bruises strewn across your body, impatient foot tapping in the hallows of detention, chopsticks fashioned into walrus tusks over a meal, climbing higher and higher with no sign of stopping). when it’s the (aquarius)’s birthday on 2/13/1998, they always request their CHEESY NACHOS WITH EXTRA GUAC from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

( PERSONALITY ! )

( for more details about blue, check out his stats & hcs here ! )

he is playful, jocular, impulsive, and honestly? immature lmao. he is honestly a Soft Jock™

he’s always been looking for the childhood he never got to have, y’know? he does this in the way he’s always cracking jokes, a bit of a class clown, disruptive. a wholesome prank or two.

he gets in trouble in school more than his fair share, simply for daydreaming or sneaking out. he doesn’t let the institution define him, but he can take orders when needed. he can be very loyal tho, and much like eggsy in kingsmen, if someone asked him to choose between his dog or orders ?? he’s always choosing the dog kdjgf

he is secretly very insecure and always has a need to please. if someone doesn’t like him, he’ll tear himself apart to figure out why.

he’s always telling jokes and always laughing. he’s known for his Memes and is always a good time to be around. social butterfly, gregarious. chances are if you don’t know him, you’ve heard him dkfgjdf

he’s also a bit Anti-( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( sex lmao ) because ya boi has commitment issues so high they’re floating out there in space

he can also be very maternal when the need arises. he is not good at talking about emotions but he’ll give you a meme or a hug to Heal You

he very much reminds me of the human embodiment of a puppy. cannot be alone for very long, has a short attention span, and craves validation lmfao. give him a squeaky toy and he will be Contented

as a soon-to-be spy he can be Tough in the field when he needs to be but he’s also v sensitive. most see him as a macho, just genuinely happy kinda dude but, he truly feels a lot. he won’t let you know that, though.

he struggles academically as he has a short attention span most of the time and thinks too little of himself. however, he’s a lot brighter than most people give him credit for. he’s incredibly creative and a lateral thinker. maths makes him want to die, tho. he does shine in physical trials at least, which is something !

also what’s money? blue does not know. he grew up with hardly anything, and has been working since he could. for this reason he’s quite frugal and struggles to throw things away.

blue’s troubled past ( explained below ) is something he doesn’t acknowledge, and not a lot of people know about. to many, he’s known as the local Meme Dealer. but to a lucky few, he’s known as a friend who would do anything for you.

most just know him as the moron named after a colour tho. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

( HISTORY ! ) - tw: illness/cancer, death, substance ( alcohol / drugs ) & depression.

blue hawthorne, who never goes by his birthname bc he hates it dfkjgdgdf, was born in the town of sparks, nevada !

it was always just blue and his mother, margarette. he never met his father and he was gone long before blue’s mother could even tell him about a pregnancy test. cut off from her family due to having a child out of wedlock, the pair started a life for themselves. all they had was a humble abode in a trailer park. material possessions were lacking, but blue never felt like he went without.

blue’s mother was by very definition blue’s best friend. they both shared a love of music and ballet, and margarette worked as many jobs as she could to allow for her son to take lessons. starting quite young, at the age of four or five, blue was actually quite good. the usually mischievous and erratic child found structure in the discipline, and it was the thing that brought him the most happiness.

as a child blue was often teased for his interest, and the fact that he was so close with his mother. despite being incredibly short and frail at the time, he was also very outspoken and strong-willed, and never let his peers get the best of him. he danced, he laughed, he bruised his knees at any given opportunity. made a lot of mistakes. what he lacked in possessions he gained in the abundance of joy he felt in his heart growing up. his mother and a few of his close friends were his world.

when blue turned fifteen, everything changed.

( illness / cancer tw ) the jubilant, mischievous, but altogether kind-hearted boy was given the heart-breaking news that his mother had been diagnosed with cancer. margarette hawthorne, much like her son, was a fighter - and didn’t let such a diagnosis keep her down. despite their dwindling lack of funds now going towards medical bills, and the fact blue began sacrificing his own childhood as he took to the role of a caretaker of sorts for his mother, he never took his time with her for granted.

things were okay for a while. there was a point where the doctors were convinced that she was going to make it. blue was a fool. blue believed them.

at the age of sixteen, blue lost everything. he lost his place to live, he lost his childhood and lust for life, and he lost the person he loved most in the world. he lost his best friend.

it wasn’t long before the overbearing sympathy from those around him soured blue. he was sick of being bullied, people not liking him, and altogether not being in control of his own life. most of all, he felt so hopeless as his best friend in the entire world was starting to fade. so what did this boy do ? he quit ballet (the thing he’d loved since he was able to stand), he started drinking, he got involved with a very bad crowd and became a frequenter of the local police station. blue became a certified Bad Boy™

blue was sent to live with the grandparents that despised him and never acknowledged his existence before that moment, having met them at his mother’s funeral. righteous and conservative in their views, they had cast aside their daughter when she had blue, and only reached out to her in her final months. for this reason, blue despised these people (he refused to call them family). he tried his best to be appreciative of a house and food ( which was much better than anything he had growing up ). but he was cold. always cold.

( substance tw ) in his latter adolescence, blue fell into a rapid succession of bad decisions. still small, still frail in stature, he found himself at a dissonance with his image and began growing insecure about his looks, the years of torment weighing on him. he found anesthetic in the party scene outside of school, taking to alcohol and drugs as a sedative from the life he felt forced to lead. he couldn’t decide if he hated himself or he hated the world more.

at the age of 17, his rap sheet seemed to grow with each rise and fall of the sun. he was hardly ever ‘home’ and couch surfed. at the age of 17 he’d gotten his own car and lived more out of that than the stuffy house on top of the hill where he was supposed to be. his grades were debris lost in his tumultuous storm, he was always looking for validation from the kids he hung around with and made some very poor decisions in the hopes he’d be liked. in the hopes he’d find a new family.

the partying, the stream of hook ups, his criminal record (mainly with petty theft, a few write ups for public intoxication and fighting), the instability of his living situation and his future all came to boil just before he turned 18. physically he’d started to fill out, and look more like the man people know today. he was no longer frail and no longer weak, and when asked, he used to his fists to forge that path he thought he wanted.

after a dark night, it became apparent to blue that his path of self destruction was hurting no one but himself. things had to change.

through nothing short than a McMiracle (sponsored by Ronald McDonald, bc no one else is rich enough to pull it off lmfao) blue managed to scrape by and complete high school. not well by any means. but he did it.

it was about now that blue had been informed of a small school called blackthorne academy. details were scarce, but what drew the blond’s attention was the tuition ( or lack thereof ). his acceptance cited his physical capabilities as seen through his many years of dance and explained why he was of particular interest to the school. he was suspicious, to say the least. but blue knew he wanted to become something, and to go to this school would not only take him away from a life he wanted to forget, but he would become self sufficient, and be able to leave his toxic family situation on his own terms.

bidding farewell to the grandparents he was only beginning to know, his grandfather saw no reason to extend her kindnesses, and cut blue off. at the age of 18 he was homeless, with nothing but a car and a handful of pokemon cards he’d had as a kid. not worth anything or even particularly sentimental, he just likes pokemon kgfjfd.

living in his car for a while before eventually crashing with a close friend, blue managed to absorb his days in work before eventually starting his tenure at blackthorne. although blue’s wild days are behind him, there are some things locked in his past that still haunt him. there are doors he never hopes to open again. but he got his fresh start, and is determined to live the life a young blue would have wanted for him, and one his mother could be proud of. and who knows, maybe he could go on and save the world.

( WANTED CONNECTIONS ! )

all of these are absolute trash, and i much prefer plotting with specific characters in mind to cater it to our muses and make it unique to them. (~: but i do have a few wanted connections here as a starting off point !! if any of them really call to you though, please let me know as i would adore to have anything listed !! with that in mind, i wanted to include a sample of a few of the connects on the page here to make things a lil easier.

— *. ; ( co-workers ) || this connection is a little up in the air as i understand that students aren’t allowed to leave campus without staff supervision, and tuition isn’t awfully high if you can’t afford it ! however, blue has no money, and if at all possible he would try and get some sort of job whilst at blackthorne/gallaghers. whether that be doing odd jobs as part of his covert ops classes, or even working for the campus doing things like lawn maintenance, working in the stables, or literally anything that was open ! ( his ‘job’ could even be bringing in dkfjgdf some sorts of contraband to sell to other students, lmfao. nothing illegal, just stuff you can’t get on campus ). this connection is meant for any muses that may also be employed, or want them to be, and these two could be co-workers ! with an admin blessing we can figure out what is logistically possible within the plot, and if your muse already has a job i’d be very interested to have blue be a coworker if you were at all interested !! <3

— *. ; ( protector ) || there are two things blue hates most in this world: liars, and bullies. as an older ( and arguably large ) student, he comes to find someone who is going through a rough time assimilating to life at the academy for whatever reason. on the surface neither of them have anything in common, but the pair form a sibling like bond, and blue is willing to do anything to protect their friend.

— *. ; ( aggressor ) || blue is very mild mannered for the most part, save for any jokes he likes to make. however, there is someone on campus who absolutely makes his blood boil. whether this person dislikes blue for his lack of wealth and sophistication, his inherent need to never pick sides, or his immediate abandonment of respect for blackthorne once the truth came to light. or perhaps he made a joke in their early days that rubbed this person the wrong way, and a toxic environment has persisted since then. i imagine this relationship has escalated to violence, and for whoever picks this up i’d really love to delve into their hatred and flesh out their angst !

there are plenty more connects on the page and like i said, i am literally happy to plot anything under the sun. (~:

thank you so much for reading ! if you made it all the way here ?? you’re a h*cking legend lmfao. if there’s anything here that stood out to you please hit me up either on tumblr dms or via discord ( my user is lilac 🍕#1835, or kjgdgdf the person with the crying squidward icon in the gc lmfao ). as there are quite a lot of members here, please like this here intro if you are interesting in plotting/writing with me so i know !! i’ll check out your beautiful intro and Throw (or rather, gently pass you) some ideas your way if you haven’t messaged me first. <3 but thank you so much again for making it to this point, here’s a proverbial cookie for your troubles. it’s double choc chip, enjoy it. (~:

#gallagher:intro #this was... so long aND IM SO SORRY #thank y'all for all being literal angels and making me feel so welcome (':#( ooc ; i have the power of god & anime on my side ! )

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lovelifeandlindsay · 5 years ago

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And if today, all you did was hold yourself together, I am proud of you

It has been a year and a half since I’ve blogged (sad, I know). Every year or so, something big happens to me personally and/or in the world we are living in.

As of today, Sunday April 5th 2020, I am feeling the changing effects both personally and globally as we are living through this pandemic (check out my blog post from September 10, 2017 called Re-Building that has a similar theme - albeit no pandemic)

My last blog post in October of 2018 was when I left Austin and moved to Phoenix. It was a few months before I turned 40 and I had never had so many changes fired at me so rapidly in my life. As much as I loved Austin, I was missing my parents and sister and nieces who were all now settled permanently in Vegas. I wasn’t quite ready to return back to Vegas (Austin really changed the person I was when I left Vegas in 2013), so I headed to Phoenix, where my best friend was living. I figured it would be a good mix of some place new and being closer to Vegas.

My entire year in Phoenix was one of the biggest transitions of my life. I had gone from a solid network in Austin and making good money as an apartment locator/rental agent. I started over knowing no one but my best friend, got a job as a leasing manager for an apartment community, and started the education to obtain my Arizona real estate license. The national portion of the exam was not too bad but the state portion of the test was one of the hardest tests I have ever taken in my entire life. I failed not once, not twice but THREE TIMES and then they then decided to change the test AGAIN so that national and state were combined into one test. SO I HAD TO TAKE THE ENTIRE THING OVER AGAIN. I studied my @** off becoming so obsessed with this pursuit that I studied every chance I could, took prep classes and then finally passed! Heartbreakingly, I couldn’t pursue real estate full-time though because of my full-time job so I did what I could shadowing experienced agents and taking classes on my days off.

I’ll try to summarize the next 6 months...I had a falling out with my best friend, one whom I thought would be my forever friend; we were friends for over 16 years. The love of my life drove out from Austin and we tried to live with each other but it just didn’t work...He left and I was heart-broken. I fell into a deep depression. I could hardly do anything. I cried all day and could hardly get out of bed. To be honest, I was surprised that I actually held a job but I guess that was the only thing I looked forward to. I had to seek out professional help and I did, with every painful step. Fast forward to end of summer and I started getting better. With the help of a great therapist, I decided the best decision for me was to move back to Vegas and be close to my family. I needed the support and I wanted to be in their lives.

Once again, I started studying for my real estate license in Nevada (yeah, I know) but luckily Nevada is a reciprocal state and it wasn’t nearly as hard as obtaining my Arizona license. So I am on my 3rd real estate license (TX, AZ, NV) which is pretty cool! As of Decemember of last year I am with SMG Realty working alongside my dear friend Roosevelt, who has been an amazing friend and mentor. Just as I was gaining some momentum THIS HAPPENED...THE CORONAVIRUS PANDEMIC.

Never in my 41 years of life have I experienced something like this! Never in my dad’s (almost) 68 years of life has he experienced something like this! It is a scary time to read about people dying and to be in the dark about such a deadly virus. The world has shut down and we are now all globally going through this together. It has been challenging adapting to this new normal and during this isolated quarantine period I am once again struggling to fight depression.

However, as scary as this is, there have been some positives coming out of quarantine. We are entering a new world. What is special is that it’s a collective experience, not just an individual one. We are being brought back down to the basics, having to be resourceful and find simple ways of exercising, eating and connecting with others! I am also rediscovering my love for reading and writing which were my passions as a kid.

On a personal level the message that has really hit home to me is that there is always going to be a problem, a crisis that is going to hit your life. But you will figure it out, you will get through it and you will be stronger than ever in the long run. It is inevitable that nothing is perfect but EVERYTHING works out the way it is supposed to. Those thoughts have prepared me now for ANYTHING in life no matter how difficult they may be. Through sickness and in health.

I am here for those that need me just as people have helped me when I needed it. Mostly I pray for those sick to recover, that everyone stay healthy and I thank those on the front lines in the healthcare industry and those in the food industry that give us access to food (and honestly some days that is all I look forward to!)

We will get through is! And we will be better than ever. Remember to be gentle with yourself and others. There is only so much we can control..

And if today, all you did was hold yourself together, I am proud of you.

#life #quarantine #coronavirus #pandemic #transformation #cycleoflife

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undonesarc · 5 years ago

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CW FOR KIDNAPPING, EXPERIMENTATION, CHILD DEATH, VIOLENCE, TORTURE & ABUSE.

PT. I : THE FOUNDING OF EXPANSION.

The doctor credited as the “discoverer” of the H-42 gene was named Edward Holmes.

A man of wealth and fortune from birth, Holmes was not a man who pursued a career in medicine for the wealth, but strictly because of an interest in the human body, and the desire to understand it. When finally he earned his degree, using his family’s connections and money, he established a medical research company based out of NYC known as Expansion – a business whose goal was to wok towards cures for everything, from cancers and dementia to the common cold, and for the first twelve years, this was their focus.

In the dead of winter in 1972, however, a fascination was birthed in an alleyway in Brooklyn, where, on a walk through the city, the doctor stumbled upon a man able to produce flames at will: able to engulf himself in the glow of an inferno without burning an inch of skin. this man, Harrison, was far from the first to harbor such a power; he was just the one unfortunate enough to cross Holmes’ path. Homeless, lacking family and in much need of food, he agreed to come with Holmes to the lab so that he may be studied in return for meals and shelter. It was a simple arrangement in the beginning: in the early 70s, genetic testing was in its infancy, and so Holmes was limited to the basic vital testings and questions regarding family history — a profile that would later be perfected, with family trees and records a primary source of tracking down test subjects.

Three months was the initial, agreed-upon deal: three months of poking and prodding, three months of Harrison sleeping in a warm bed and eating three square meals a day. This timeline, however, slowly became steadily increased; with his status as a loner, jobless, Harrison was easy enough to manipulate into staying in Expansion, the money pilling up in exchange for more and more of his life, DNA, access to his power. While he was free to roam in the first few months, to leave as he wished, after a full year of Holmes’ experiments, Harrison found himself trapped – locked away in a cell in a sub-level of the lab, where he resided for years, slowly reduced to a shell of his former self.

From Harrison, an obsession was wrought, though cut short after an escape attempt led to Harrison’s death. Holmes, desperate to continue and expand upon his research, mourned Harrison’s death, though solely because of the loss of potential - not seeing him as a life wasted, but as a lost subject. Holmes isolated himself during this period of “mourning,” pouring over his data in his private studies in Expansion’s headquarters, and it was during this time that he began to devise a plan to further his studies.

Holmes was not alone in his endeavors; though he was the only person in contact with Harrison for the first year, in 1974, Holmes recruited Martin Brock and Kevin Wilson, two ex-classmates who he believed possessed the same qualities as himself, the same “drive” (and the same disregard for human life).

In 1981, a year after Harrison’s death, Holmes approached Brock and Wilson, and told them of his plans for a new research project he had dubbed “The Enlightenment Project.”

Though there was a plan on paper, it took years to acquire the equipment and outfit the basements of Expansion to be able to actually carry it out; it was during this prep time that Raymond Black was recruited to Expansion, specifically to head Enlightenment - he was a controversial figure in scientific circles, believing in the ‘supernatural’ and other phenomena deemed nonsense - but it was this conviction that attracted Holmes to him, that ensured him he would be a good fit for their team, because it was the so-called implausible they were chasing.

Raymond was the newest member, but had quickly become like a son to Holmes. With funds and ambitions as widespread as Holmes, he was the perfect candidate to inherit Expansion when Holmes fell ill in 1985. With no children to contest his will, Holmes modified the terms and left everything to Black, “just in case” - a precaution that was warranted. Edward Holmes died in 1989, just weeks before Enlightenment was set to actually begin.

The plan for Enlightenment was simple: seek out subjects, acquire them by any means necessary, and contain them within the lab for study. The profile provided by the tests on Harrison was bare-bones, but served as the building block for their search, and in the winter of 1989, Wilson called a meeting of the Enlightenment board and informed them of a child that was being cared for at a hospital in Baltimore. Wilson was friends with a doctor who worked there, and the two had met at a conference, where Wilson had been told about the child, being treated for cancer - and the strange marker in his DNA.

The kidnapping took place two weeks later, with Black himself stealing into the child’s home and taking him, killing his parents for extra measure - but posing the scene as an accident. All three were presumably killed in a house fire.

Dylan Carver became subject A1 in the Enlightenment Project.

He was four, and yes, incredibly sick, but resilient, and every test conducted came back positive that he possessed the H-42 gene - but merely as a carrier. There was contention between the three scientists on the benefits of keeping a sick child that could “offer little,” as his gene was passive, but eventually, it was unanimously decided that Dylan could still be of use as a test subject; more children would just have to be acquired for further study, to actually find results.

With the new plan to find more children, Black and the remaining team voted on tightening their security – to ensure no one escaped and to ensure that the other divisions of Expansion never stumbled across the children. this was when Black and Theodore de Luca met – a powerful man in his own right, son of an Italian mafia boss (that Theo himself killed, though staged it to look like a dispute with a rival family). de Luca’s family owned a security company, private military, a band of mercenaries, men with scarred faces and blood on their hands and bloodlust in their hearts. A handful of these men (those who lack remorse, who would not hesitate to hurt a child) were selected and employed by Black as security, and thus began the relationship between Expansion and Frontier, de Luca’s company.

(it is important to note that not every employee of Expansion has had a hand in the abduction and torture of children; only around fifty are involved in Enlightenment. most are consumed with legal, world-changing ventures, which earn the company more than enough revenue to cover the expenses of Enlightenment).

Black and his team believe that they are a necessary evil: that they can better this world by discovering these powers and documenting them. They believe that this is the next, natural step in human evolution, and that by unlocking these secrets of the human body and possibly finding a way to offer this advancement to everyone and not just a select few, they can better the human race.

(de Luca, on the other hand, has selfish reasons for associating himself with Enlightenment; his interest is purely to fuel his own interests, and has offered his own soldiers and even his own child to be the first to test forcing mutations in humans; his goal is to turn Enlightment’s interests towards his own and utilize their research to create super soldiers).

PT. II : THE RISE & FALL OF WING A / THE BIRTH OF REYES.

Dylan Carver was merely the beginning. His adoption in 1989 was a catalyst for things to come; while, initially, the Enlightenment team had decided on minimalizing risk and acquiring only one child, the transition of power from Holmes to de Luca & Black not only allowed researchers more funding and resources, but added a personal agenda to the mix (though this was not pubic knowledge; de Luca kept his intentions to himself, but was adamant on pushing for a quicker breakthrough regardless). The second and third child were taken from their homes in 1994, under circumstances similar to Dylan Carver’s 1989 “death.”

Over the next 5 years, men of de Luca’s organization who were easily influenced by money and trusted to be discreet and ruthless were sent across the united states to obtain children as they were identified, each kidnapping carried out differently and varied so that they seemed random and without pattern: children were taken from parks, their homes at nights, public events; their parents were murdered, their parents were injured, valuables were stolen – each crime scene presented differently. By 2000, A Wing consisted of 12 subjects, who were as follows:

Dylan Carver / subject A1, taken from Baltimore, Maryland, in 1989 (age 3).

Elle Andrews / subject A2, taken from Grand Rapids, Michigan, in 1994 (age 5).

George Perlman / subject A3, taken from Detroit, Michigan, in 1994 (age 2).

Ray Coleman / subject A4, taken from Tallahassee, Florida, in 1995 (age 6 months).

Marcus Carmichael / subject A5, taken from Daring, Tennessee, in 1995 (age 4).

Alexandra Cantrell / subject A6, taken from Reno, Nevada, in 1996 (age 5).

Sarah Michaels / subject A7, taken from Ontario, Canada, in 1997 (age 5).

Mary Kim / subject A8, taken from San Diego, California, in 1998 (age 3).

Bethany Holloway / subject A9, taken from Honolulu, Hawaii, in 1998 (age 4).

Marius Hernández / subject A10, taken from Boston, Massachusetts, in 1999 (age 3).

Alexander McCormick / subject A11, taken from Hutchinson, Kansas, in 1999 (age 2).

These children were discovered by Expansion because Expansion had begun establishing free clinics across the country, offering multiple forms of healthcare - screening for cancers and paternity tests, etc, anything involving DNA made available, all results logged into Expansion’s computers, that then run through a program that produced names based on varying factors.

The story of subject A12 is different from every other subject in Enlightenment’s history.

Subject A12, given the name MATEO REYES, is the biological son of Theodore de Luca, via a surrogate, who believed de Luca to be a small-town doctor wanting to start a family with his ‘partner’ (a part played by one of the Expansion scientists). A ‘suitable’ surrogate was discovered who carried the correct markers. Immediately following Reyes’ birth, he was forced into the lab, labeled as subject A12 (he would not receive the name Mateo Reyes until the age of 16; until this point, he is referred to solely as 12).

12 was ‘raised’ by the scientists of Enlightenment, his ‘upbringing’ overseen by de Luca. His origins were not known, nor were they questioned. The primary point of study of 12′s birth and upbringing was to gauge if the gene and the powers that come with it could be forced - de Luca had secretly been receiving treatment, attempts to warp his DNA and change him into a carrier, and it was believed that these changes to him would carry through to a child.

This life is obviously very little of a ‘life’, and 12′s personality reflected that.

He was not subjected to the punishing torture of the scientists until the age of 7, but was raised in a cage nonetheless. It was also interesting to the Board to study the effect that being confined from such a small age would have on someone, and de Luca wanted him close and contained.

By the age of 7, however, with no indication of abilities (which was not uncommon - out of the 12 subjects, only 3 had shown abilities prior to the age of 10, but this did not benefit the experiment, and so it was seen as a disappointment), various methods were employed to attempt to force the mutation into maturation; it had been accidentally discovered that extreme stress to the system could throw the process into overdrive, and with de Luca’s insistence, 12 was subjected to various tortures - further isolation in darkness, then a sudden switch to constant light; confined in a smaller, blacked-out box; submerged in water for ten minute intervals at a time. it took a year of these ‘sessions’ for anything to happen - and when it did, it was an explosion.

The lights had cycled to pitch black, and a scientist observing 12′s brain activity suddenly screamed. There was an attempt to turn the lights back on, but the darkness persisted, to a stifling, suffocating point; this episode lasted for nearly an hour before finally the darkness dissipated, and the bodies of three scientists were discovered in the observation room. But the security tapes caught the incident, and what was discovered stunned the Board: the darkness had morphed into 12, had taken over the room, had killed the men. But these are the results that de Luca craved, knowing that there was the capacity of violence existing alongside these abilities, and so the unease of the scientists who reviewed the footage was ignored.

Instead, 12 was encouraged to test the limits of his abilities. Over the next few years, he discovered that shadows seemed to be alive in his presence; he could manipulate them, disappear into it, utilize it as a shield, transform it into a weapon and use it to kill (by smothering, by robbing people of their senses by stuffing them with it - it was never actively encouraged that he use this ability, but de Luca obviously enjoyed it. By the age of 13, 12 had murdered five security guards and five scientists, though the scientists were always accidental).

He was considered the biggest success of Phase I / A Wing. Most of the other children were monumental failures; out of the 12, only six actually developed abilities, two of whom escaped (subjects A4 and A5, and remain the only two ever to do so; will be talked about in a later post). In 2006, plans had begun to expand Enlightenment for a B Wing / Phase II / “second try”, because Black and Wilson and Brock were determined, despite the setback that Phase I felt like.

In 2013, when 12 was 13, the Purge of A Wing began, with the remaining subjects “disposed of” (procurement of B Wing had begun in 2009, and was finalized in 2013, shortly before The Purge).

12 was spared because of his success, and shifted over to a side project called “ARES”, the blueprint for de Luca’s super-soldiers. de Luca could commit time and effort to this because he was now a majority shareholder in Expansion, a move that Black encouraged, eager to have more of de Luca’s money in their experiments and their projects.

PT. III : PHASE II / B WING & THE AFTERMATH OF THE PURGE OF A WING.

In the years since Holmes had created Enlightenment, the profile and techniques used to scout children had greatly improved, partially due to Expansion’s establishments of medical care centers and their greatly improved medical care being made available for anyone, free of charge. Every ‘patient’ who received any sort of care beneath Expansion’s banner had their DNA logged, and as a result, a vivid picture was painted of who would be better candidates - who would actually produce results. Expansion had long-since become a global brand, ingratiating themselves not only across America, but slowly inching into Europe, and aiming to move beyond. They provided medical care and relief to countries in need; they painted themselves as heroes (which, for the most part, they really are. Like said, Enlightenment is NOT the primary goal of Expansion, and it is only a small percentage of workers who are actually aware of it. The rest is doing really good work, and has actually advanced medical care quite a bit).

But it wasn’t just only the method of finding subjects that had changed, but the care of the subjects that would be handled differently; while A Wing subjects had minimal contact with one another and little education, B Wing children would be treated less like prisoners and ‘conditioned’ to better function, because after a certain amount of years, they would be allowed back into the world - conditionally, of course. B Wing was also smaller, consisting of only six children, but the Board was confident that there would be better results despite such a small number.

The children are as follows:

Armand Kenner / subject B13, taken from Brussels, Belgium, in March 2010 (age 3).

Adriana Gomez / subject B14, taken from New York City, New York, in September 2010 (age 3).

Jade Williams / subject B15, taken from Somerset, England, in March 2011 (age 4).

Jakub Kowalczyk / subject B16, taken from Zakopane, Poland, in July 2012 (age 2).

Thomas Rivera / subject B17, taken from Charleston, West Virgina, in January 2013 (age 5).

Alexis Chernov / subject B18, taken from Moscow, Russia, in October 2013 (age 2).

While the new children of B Wing were treated more compassion, 12 was not. As the progenitor of ARES, the blueprint for a super-soldier, he was subjected to more torture; it was not enough to de Luca that he could control shadows, and so more experimental and dangerous alterations were made to him to enhance his strength and senses, to truly make him super. As a result, he possesses strengthened sight and hearing, but lacks the ability to taste; he is stronger and faster, but cannot smell. He is hulking, 6′7″ by the age of 16, growth enhanced, but his feeling is greatly reduced (primarily when it comes to pain), each ‘improvement’ robbing him of something in turn.

At the age of 16, 12 and de Luca finally met face-to-face; though de Luca had been monitoring him since birth, they had yet to actually have contact, and he felt it was finally time, to see firsthand what his DNA and money had created for him. It was during this meeting that de Luca named him Mateo Reyes - the first name ‘honoring’ a childhood friend, the surname after a character in a movie that de Luca enjoyed.

de Luca expressed his approval for Reyes, for his name and his abilities and what he will be, and Reyes tried to kill him. (He survived only because they had ‘collared’ Reyes, implanting a chip into his neck that received pulses that would render him immobile; after killing another security guard, it was deemed a necessary measure, one that even de Luca agreed to).

He was then thrown into solitary, with the Board insisting on his death - arguing that he was too unstable, not exactly the vision of the project, but de Luca held firm, despite the inability to speak because of the bruising on his throat. de Luca was thrilled with the turn of events, and dismissed their concerns - primarily because, due to the experimentation he had been subjecting himself to, death would not come so easily to him. de Luca insisted instead that they begin training Reyes to rejoin the world, as they would be doing for the B Wing children.

“He’s collared. What could go wrong?”

So his education began - but it was a difficult process. Reyes had only the most rudimentary grasp on language, and found other subjects difficult; he didn’t care for math or science, and was quick to anger when it was forced onto him, so the bulk of his education rested in filling in the gaps in his speech (which still isn’t good, but he doesn’t care) and educating him on the outside world. These lessons continued until the age of 19, when a small, contained test-run was carried out: Reyes would be accompanying de Luca to a “business meeting.”

A ‘meeting’ that turned out to be an assassination.

de Luca pressed Reyes to kill the man - a man who had attempted to steal from him, so it wasn’t random, and, to de Luca, was entirely justified. But Reyes ‘behaved’, did not attempt to hurt anyone outside the target, and since it was seen as a success, Reyes was allowed outside - only a few hours at a time, primarily at night, in the beginning, but by the age of 23, he was given an apartment near Expansion’s headquarters, and allowed to live there instead of in the lab.

The years between 19 and 23 were not easy-going, however; de Luca was more eager than ever to see how Reyes could operate in environments less-and-less contained, and pushed and pushed and pushed for him to use his abilities, always on targets personally selected by de Luca, rivals in his illegal dealings or people he’d felt had crossed him.

PT. IV : CURRENT TIMELINE, THE RESISTANCE & REYES AS A PROTAGONIST.

Despite how careful Expansion is and how clean their public image is, their activities are not entirely unknown. The public is not aware of the kidnappings and torture carried out in Expansion’s basement, but an ex-employee unaffiliated with Enlightenment absolutely is. She uncovered it purely by accident, and after a series of events, the Board became aware she knew - which led to her faking her death, with the help of a vigilante group that targets big corporations and exposes their dirty laundry - who were obviously incredibly interested in what she had to say, even with so little proof (there were copies of files stolen from Enlightenment’s databases, but it wasn’t enough to take down Expansion). This group, known as FR33DOM, switched their focus entirely to exposing Expansion.

And after three years, they found an opening.

in 2024, FR33DOM’s vigilantes, following de Luca, searching for any loose thread to pull, find that de Luca frequently visits a 24 year old man named Mateo Reyes, listed as the owner of an apartment only three streets from Expansion. Curious, FR33DOM begin to dig into Reyes’ past, and while in a cursory sweep, nothing appears out of order - it is a group of ghosts, and ghosts can recognize their own kind. It is quickly discovered that most of Reyes’ past is fabricated, and after years of searching, FR33DOM believes they finally have an opening.

What exactly Reyes’ connection is with Expansion and de Luca, they don’t know, but they’re intent on finding out.

By 2024, Raymond Black and de Luca are the only remaining original members of the Board. de Luca’s power over Enlightenment has greatly increased, and with it, so has his arrogance; he believes they should be pushing more, demanding more of the subjects. With this increase in power, more and more of the workers of the Project have aligned themselves with him over Black, and are quick to agree with him - there is guaranteed money in it for them, after all, so why wouldn’t they agree? de Luca demands that they pay more attention to ARES, of which Reyes continues to be the only subject, and Black, feeling cornered, agrees.

Some of de Luca’s mercenaries are then taken in and put through the same torture as Reyes.

de Luca informs Reyes of this development in person, but Reyes does not react well. Despite his conditioning and the years of torture and knowing only the lab, he has a hatred for Enlightenment, Expansion, and de Luca; he has a hatred for the world, for forcing him into this position and allowing him to experience what he has, and so Reyes does not react well to knowing that it will happen again. A fight occurs between the two, and Reyes throws de Luca from a window.

The vigilantes from FR33DOM watch this unfold. They watch Reyes leave, and they follow him.

But Reyes’ heightened senses alert him to this, and, reacting badly because he does not know how to react any other way, he ends up nearly killing one of them - but de Luca has awoken by this point, and he has activated Reyes’ collar, and Reyes is brought down and his GPS activated so that he can be collected and returned to Enlightenment to ‘cool down’ - but FR33DOM took him instead for questioning.

It was easy enough for them to disable the chip, to wake him up, to interrogate him - but as he slowly grew conscious again and the shadows began to react to his panic, he was slowly embraced by them, drawing towards him protectively. This led to the FR33DOM vigilantes to re-enable his chip and leave him on the side of the road, where Enlightenment security found him, and brought him back for questioning.

de Luca was disappointed, but not to a level that would agree to Reyes being ‘disposed of.’ His punishment was a month in solitary, and Reyes took it, but did not feel bad for what he did to de Luca - his only regret was that he didn’t kill him.

When Reyes’ confinement was finished, and he was able to go back to his apartment, he found a man sitting on his bed, wearing a plague doctor’s mask. Despite Reyes’ recent ‘episode’ and his upbringing, Reyes’ apartment was not under surveillance; FR33DOM had discovered this, and had deemed it a good enough risk to send in one of their own to talk to Reyes and discover who he was and his connection to de Luca. They had been waiting for the month, and had begun to lose hope, when finally they discovered that Reyes was no longer in Expansion (they had hijacked the connection to his chip, and could see his location and the other details provided by it, just as Enlightenment can.)

Reyes told the truth, because he was never taught to lie.

CURRENTLY: FR33DOM is attempting to recruit Reyes into their ranks and use him to take down Expansion from the inside, but he continues to resist their advances, despite his hatred for de Luca. He does not trust anyone easily, and they’re no exception. Reyes continues to practice his abilities, and is slowly coming to the realization that he wants out from underneath de Luca’s thumb completely. The freedom offered to him currently just isn’t enough.

#REYES.#REYES: META.

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