Isabel slumped against her throne, idly playing with the chains that held her down. She'd been stuck there ever since he'd dragged her away from the lake. Before, he'd only attached the chain to her ankle, but now, it was completely wrapped around her legs, chest, and one of her arms. He'd only unwrap the chain from around her when he wanted her, and when he was done, he'd wrap her back up again. That was what he meant when he said the lake wouldn't be able to reach her. He was going to keep her chained here until she once again fell into submission.
But she was stronger this time. She could remember her friends this time, and could once again conjure up visions of them. And when that wasn't enough, she focused on the feeling of the lake rocking in her bones. Sometimes it would talk to her, but its voice seemed so far away. But as long as she knew it was there, and that it would still be willing to help her, she knew she could hang on until she either broke free or her friends finally found her.
Her thinking was interrupted by a sharp pain in her stomach. She looked down to see a trickle of blood running down her stomach, originating a few inches above her belly button. She took her free arm and ran her finger along the trail, coating her finger with blood. She looked at it curiously, wondering what was happening to her. She gasped as another sharp pain pulsated in her stomach, and she looked down to see more blood oozing from a cut on her stomach.
It felt like something was trying to claw its way out of her stomach. Isabel screamed as the sharp pains grew continuous and the cut grew to extend all the way across her stomach. Blood ran down her stomach, coating the chains on her leg and pooling in the seat of her throne. Her free arm clawed at her stomach, not really sure what else to do, but knowing she had to do something. The cut opened up, and Isabel swore she could see her insides. She closed her eyes, knowing something was about to happen, but not wanting to see what.
The pain finally subsided as something came out of her and she felt the gash in her stomach begin to knit itself together. After a few deep breaths, she opened her eyes to see a blood-covered demon crouched on her chain-covered thighs, and she tilted her head. That was easily the strangest thing she'd experienced in the whole time she'd been here. Now she just had to determine what would happen next. The demon turned around and looked at her, blinking a few times.
Isabel screamed and covered her face as the demon bared its teeth and started to attack her.
****************
Akilah held Morgan's hand as they walked together to Rossi's mansion. She hadn't been sure Rossi was actually going to go through with the cooking lesson, but she was excited that he had. Now, she could cook, that much was true. But her special was Middle Eastern dishes and she could whip up decent dishes that hailed from both East and South Asia. But when it came to European and American foods, she wasn't that great. That was Ciara's specialty.
She would have loved this. Ciara could make a mean pasta and Akilah swore up and down there was some secret Italian blood running through her veins, though Ciara always denied it. She always told Akilah that she'd just perfected the craft through trial and error. But the opportunity to learn to cook pasta from an actual Italian? Ciara would have jumped all over that. And if Ciara had been there, there would have been no hesitation from Reid to come, Akilah knew that much.
"What's on your mind?" Morgan asked, and Akilah shook her head to clear it. She hadn't realized how lost in thought she had been.
"Do you think Reid will come?" she asked, and Morgan sighed.
"I don't know. He's still angry at all of us," he said, before looking at her. "Well, not all of us. He's not angry with you, or Garcia, or Rossi. But the rest of us, he's still angry at us, and I'm not sure he's ready to try and mend those bridges."
"He can't stay angry forever, can he?" Akilah wondered.
"I don't know. The past month has wounded him pretty deeply. I'm surprised you got over as quickly as you did," Morgan mentioned.
"Yeah, well. I was upset about Prentiss, sure, but I realized that she didn't really have a choice. Even if they'd wanted to tell us, I'm not sure they could. I'm just glad we got her back and Doyle is dead," she responded, and Morgan's sigh told her that he felt the same way. His only regret was that he hadn't been the one to kill Doyle. Akilah partially felt the same way. "As for the thing with Ciara... well, I told you I'd never been angry. Just disappointed. I don't think I'll ever not be. But I'm not willing to hold it against you. That won't get us anywhere."
"Yeah, that much is true. I feel the same way. I don't think I'll ever not be disappointed in myself, but we have to move on, right?" he asked, and Akilah nodded. That was the truth. They all had to find a way to move on from what had happened in the past month, and this cooking class was probably a good way to start that process. Coming together as a family and doing something together was a good start. Akilah could only hope that everyone showed up.
Truth be told, Akilah wasn't sure that Reid was ready to start that process. Too much had happened and he needed time to work through all of it. Especially the fact that they'd solved one puzzle but were still stumped by the next. Every moment Reid wasn't busy with something for work, he was poring over that damn notebook, trying to riddle it out and find the combination to the safe. So far, he hadn't found anything, and Akilah knew that was frustrating him to no end. True, it had only been a few days, but Akilah knew that was a few days too long for the genius that was used to solving everything in just a few hours.
At the door, they only had to wait a few seconds after ringing the doorbell for Rossi to answer the door, inviting them in. Once in the kitchen, they say that, apart from Reid, they'd been the last to arrive. Everyone was hanging around in the kitchen, each holding a glass of wine. Akilah fidgeted nervously, hoping no one would mind that she was the only one without a glass.
"Not to worry, mio caro. I have sparkling grape juice for you. Mostly tastes like wine but with none of the alcohol," Rossi explained, and Akilah sighed with relief. She could still experience drinking wine with her friends but without the wine.
"Pour me one of those, too, Rossi, please and thank you," Morgan said, and Akilah looked up at him.
"Now, you don't have to do that. We've discussed this. I don't care if you drink alcohol. I'm just not going to. You don't have to abstain just because I am," Akilah said, and Morgan smiled at her.
"I know I don't have to. I'm choosing to," he said, and Akilah looked down at the ground, heat rising to her cheeks. She once again thanked her darker complexion for being a natural blush hider. She'd never hear the end of it if he saw her blushing. But the fact of the matter was, of all the men she'd casually dated, none of them were the type of man to abstain from alcohol simply because she had to. To support her so fully and completely in her recovery. He had even taken her out to the fanciest dinner he could when she had earned her one-year medallion.
"Thank you," she said, and he squeezed her hand softly. As Rossi went into the kitchen to pour them both a glass of sparkling grape juice, they followed and greeted everyone that was there. When asked, Akilah answered that she didn't know if Reid was going to show up, but that she hoped he would. Rossi handed them their glasses across the island, with Akilah briefly explaining the contents of the glasses when she got more than a few raised eyebrows from her friends. Before Akilah could feel any more self-conscious, Rossi turned on what sounded like Italian music and started his lecture.
"Cooking is the most sensual art form, and these are my paints," he told them, pointing to the ingredients he must have prepared beforehand.
"So your hands must be brushes," Garcia inferred.
"Don't interrupt," Rossi chastised her, and as Garcia looked down, Akilah had the urge to both snort and tear into Rossi. On the one hand, it was a little funny, but on the other hand, Garcia had a point, and Rossi's reprimand had clearly upset her just a little. She was trying. But, after looking to see what everyone else was thinking, she found that JJ and Prentiss were both amused by it. Akilah cracked a smile. Maybe that was just what family did.
"In a pot of boiling water, we cook our spaghetti until it's al dente- firm to the tooth. Here you go," he continued, handing out a bunch of cooked noodles to everyone. "Everybody, pass it around, so you feel the texture. There we go, okay." When Akilah finally got some of the noodles, she rubbed one of them between her fingers, noting the texture. But, she figured, she wasn't going to be feeling the noodles with her hands while she was cooking. That sounded like a great way to get burned. So, pulling a noddle out of the bunch, she bit into it slowly, studying how it felt on her teeth. It wasn't until after that she realized everybody was staring at her.
"What? He said 'firm to the tooth'. Doesn't it make sense that I'd want to feel it with my teeth instead of with my hands?" she said, and after a minute, everyone nodded, agreeing that that did, in fact, make sense. And, in turn, everyone started to do exactly as she did, biting into the noodles to get the texture.
"You're thinking like a true cook," Rossi praised her.
"Shukran," she responded, sighing when she got the look that she meant knew that nobody had understood her. Except, of course, for Prentiss, who was the only other person in the room that knew Arabic. "It means 'thanks'."
"Why don't we stick to English tonight?" Morgan suggested, and she rolled her eyes at him.
"I'll speak whatever language I want to speak, wala tuhawil 'iiqafi [and don't try to stop me]," she said, and Prentiss snorted when she understood what Akilah had said. Akilah patted Morgan on the shoulder, smiling at his confused face. "Don't worry, habibi. One day I'll teach you Arabic."
"But that day is not today. Today, we learn about cooking. Now!" Rossi said, bringing everyone's mind back to the lesson. "Now, in a large pan, we fry up our pancetta, keeping an eye that the edges are crisp." Akilah wasn't exactly sure what pancetta was, but she had a feeling she could ask later. One person had already been reprimanded for interrupting, she wasn't about to make it two.
"But careful not to burn the onions," Hotch said, and Rossi smiled.
"Bravo, Aaron," he responded, and Akilah couldn't hide her smile. Obvious favoritism was obvious, but she wasn't about to say that. From what she'd heard, Hotch and Rossi went back farther than either of them would care to admit.
"We saute until translucence," Rossi continued, showing them what the onions looked like. Before he could continue, though, the doorbell rang, and everyone's eyes went towards the door. Akilah had only one guess who it could be, and she broke into a wide smile. So, he was going to show up after all. Good for him. Prentiss went to get the door, but Morgan stopped her.
"Ah, ah, I got it," he said, walking to the door.
"Grazie mille," Rossi responded, and Akilah knew just enough Italian to know that meant "a thousand thanks". In Arabic, the phrase would be "alf shokr". JJ brought her glass of wine to her lips, but Rossi stopped her. JJ looked at the rest of them like she couldn't believe what had just happened, and Garcia and Akilah both laughed at her misfortune. Poor lady just wanted to drink her wine.
"Now, we mix in the eggs, the parmesan, the spaghett, and parsley," Rossi instructed, adding each ingredient before mixing them all together. "You see, it's all about timing and rhythm. And if you don't feel yourself doing it properly, please... order a pizza." Everyone started to laugh, before a voice spoke behind them.
"Sorry I'm late." Akilah turned to see Reid walking in beside Morgan. She flashed the former a smile, gesturing to the space beside her. Reid came to stand on one side of her while Morgan retook his spot on her other side. Akilah smiled and took Morgan's hand, putting her other on Reid's shoulder.
"Yeah, and this is why I cook alone," Rossi responded, and Akilah smiled as Reid looked down sheepishly.
"I'm glad you came," she told him, and he gave her a small smile.
"Well, I figured it beat staying up late and looking over that damn notebook for the thousandth time," he said, and Akilah nodded.
"Yeah, I'm sure it does."
"What notebook?" Morgan asked, and Akilah told him she'd explain later. And she would. He just didn't need to know that "later" meant after they'd cracked the second code and found the red notebook. Then they'd explain everything to the team. They just wanted to know what the red notebook said and whether it told them who the Unsub was.
"So, uh, when do we get to drink the wine?" Prentiss asked, and Reid looked around, noticing that everyone had a glass but him. But then he looked at the glass that Akilah had once again picked up and he raised an eyebrow. Akilah, once again, explained that her glass had sparkling grape juice and not wine. She wondered how many times she'd have to explain that she wasn't drinking alcohol before they just assumed she'd found a non-alcoholic alternative every time she held a glass.
"Almost there. Okay," Rossi started, finally putting his cooking instruments down and wiping his hands. As he continued to talk, Akilah grabbed the empty glass that was sitting by the two bottles of wine and not-wine. The glass that had been waiting for Reid. She looked at Reid and raised an eyebrow, and he pointed at the bottle of not-wine. She nodded and poured him a glass, picking hers back up as he took his. "Start at the beginning. You eat what you cook. I'll supervise, but we're going to do this together, just like a family."
"Okay, now?" JJ asked, desperate to drink her wine. And, truth be told, Akilah wanted to try the sparkling grape juice to see how it tasted. She'd never been a fan of wine, but maybe the grape juice would be better. If not, she'd just stick with water. Or she'd just start bringing iced tea bags with her everywhere she went. Rossi smiled and gave JJ a wink.
"Now," he said, holding up his glass. "Salute!" There was a round of "salute" as everyone clinked their glasses together, before taking a drink. Akilah was surprised to find out that the grape juice actually tasted pretty good, even better than actual wine. Once they had all taken a few sips of their drinks, Rossi herded them all into the kitchen where different stations were set up so they could all work together.
"I missed all of the instructions," Reid admitted as he looked down at the counter. "And I've never been much of a cook, so this should be interesting."
"Just stick with me. I got you," Akilah told him in a whisper, not wanting to catch Rossi's wrath. But hey, that was what family did, wasn't it? Helped each other out?
"Ciara would have loved this," he whispered, and Akilah put her hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah, she would have. We'll just have to have fun for her, won't we?"
"I hope that wherever she is, she's finding a moment of peace."
"I hope so, too," she said, before going back to her own cooking, pretending to be oblivious to Reid constantly taking a peek at what she was doing and attempting to imitate it. She, however, did not pretend to be oblivious to Morgan on her other side, doing the exact same thing. And though she teased him for doing it, she didn't actually try to stop him. Why would she? She was enjoying herself. She had both of her men on either side of her, and she was cooking with her family.
Akilah had found her moment of peace.
****************
Ciara stared at the corner, ignoring the aching and cramping in her legs. How long had it been since she'd been walking? How long had she been cramping? How long until her sore muscles finally eased up? But, truth be told, she didn't have the energy to be affected by or even try to ease up the cramping. She was getting used to it, despite how bad of a sign the cramping was and how it reminded her of her recent mistakes.
And she'd made plenty of those. Ever since she'd played the part of a good submissive for that time, nothing had ever been good enough. Nothing had ever been right and she'd spent most of her time in the kennel. She was in that kennel more often than not lately. She didn't mind it, though. At least in the dark she didn't have to see her hand that was still healing and still three fingers short. She didn't have to see how much her body was changing. How much it was wasting away.
And it was. She didn't have to see her own body to know that. For a long time she'd been able to feel her ribs, but they were more pronounced now than ever. If she wanted to, she could nearly wrap her fingers around her bicep. Her fingers were only a few millimeters shy of touching, when before there had been about an inch and a half. And if that wasn't enough, she could tell that her muscles her atrophying by how little she was able to walk.
In the beginning, she had entertained herself by walking around her pole, counting each step. In the beginning, she could reach 100,000 in one language, before turning around and doing another 100,000 in another language before she got tired and stopped. But now, she could barely reach a thousand before her legs cramped and she had to stop. And with each time in the kennel, that amount got lower and lower. Soon enough, she might not be able to do a single step.
She heard a door open somewhere, but she didn't have the energy to react. She was too tired. She didn't have the energy to care that the Devil was back. He'd spend his time in that place, he'd do what he wanted with her, and he'd leave, and she could go back to obsessing over the thing that had been weighing so heavily on her mind. The door to her room opened, but she didn't look away from the corner. She didn't even flinch.
"Hello, princess," he said, but she still didn't move. She kept staring at the corner. She didn't have the energy. "Hey, look at me." She still didn't move her gaze away from the corner. Maybe she could pretend that her mind had made up something that was far more interesting than him. But maybe not. He'd take offense to that. Before she knew what was happening, he had crossed the room to her, grabbed her chin, and forced her to look at him. "I told you to look at me!"
"Mmmm," she hummed, not having the energy to form an actual response.
"Jesus, what's wrong with you?" he asked, and she sighed. "Then again, that list is pretty long, isn't it?"
"I suppose," she answered, and he looked over her face, before finally realizing why she was so out of energy.
"You haven't been sleeping, have you?" he asked, and she shook her head. "When was the last time you slept?"
"The last time ye were here," she answered truthfully. She'd tried to sleep, but every time, her attempts had ended in failure. They'd all ended in the same nightmare. Eventually, she had just stopped trying to sleep.
"Fucking hell, that was five days ago. Why haven't you been sleeping?" he asked forcefully. She wasn't sure why he cared. Truthfully, she was probably far more submissive this way. But she had been asked a question, and if she didn't answer the question, she may very well end up in the kennel.
"I keep having a nightmare," she answered, and he stood up, walking back to the door. "The same one. Every time I fall asleep, I have the same nightmare. In it, I'm laying on the table, and my ankles are strapped down, and ye're holding down my arms-"
"What makes you think I give a fuck about what your nightmare is?"
"And everything hurts, and then, all of a sudden, this demon pops out of my stomach all Alien-style, and-"
"Wait, what?" he interrupted, turning back around to her.
"Yeah, it just pops out, and there's blood and guts everywhere, and-"
"That's the nightmare? The same one every time?" he asked, glancing down at her stomach.
"Yeah," she answered, before slumping against her pole. "There's something wrong with me."
"We covered that already."
"I mean it. There's something wrong. There's something seriously not right with me," she responded, looking back at the Devil. He was staring at her, eyes wide, occasionally glancing down at her stomach, before looking back up at her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, he turned back towards the door, hissing under his breath.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he said, running his hands through his hair. Was he... was he panicking? She'd never seen him panic. What the hell could be so bad that he was panicking?
"Do ye... do ye know what's wrong with me?" she asked, and he turned around slightly.
"I have a theory," he said, before walking out of the room and slamming the door behind him.
What did he know that she didn't?
Hmmm, what indeed? And yes, I'm sorry about the emotional 180 there. But we have an interesting development, don't we? Something's wrong with Ciara, and the Devil seems to have an idea of what it is. And also, the cooking lesson! I had to add the cooking lesson to the book. There was no way I wasn't going to. That's one of the few scenes from the show that I had to make sure I wrote in. Anyway, I'm sorry this chapter is just a wee bit late. I just got some new furniture today and I spent a good five hours putting it all together and cleaning up afterward. But hey, after nearly two years, I have some actual furniture in my apartment! Three cheers for progress! And, speaking of progress, if you missed it, I have officially released The City Of Death! So, yeah, check that out if you'd like. That's all I have for now, so...BYE!
"Wine to me is passion. It's family and friends. It's warmth of heart and generosity of spirit." -Robert Mondavi