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˚⋆ ┊ TWO GHOSTS ┊ ⋆˚
☆⋅⋆ ─ act i. in the place of you and me
CHAPTER FIVE — i'll be right back...
— warnings: violence/chase scene !!
✎
❝ three may keep a secret. if two them are dead. ❞
↳ BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ EDMUNDO CHAVEZ LIVING TO SEE ANOTHER SUNRISE WAS A FUCKING MIRACLE. Nancy thought she'd lost him. All day she'd been replaying the moment he saved her over and over again. The moment the blade sliced into his neck. How it missed his carotid artery she had no idea. Honestly, she didn't care. All that mattered was that he'd survived. Like she had eight years ago.
She hadn't lost him.
They hadn't spoken much in his time awake. Mainly because Eddie couldn't speak. The blade slicing through his neck had made it excruciating for him to talk. So he wrote what he could, and his siblings would interpret what they could, but all in all, he needed to spend his time resting not gossiping. So she told him all about how grateful she was he'd been so brave and saved her life. How stupid he was to make such a decision and nearly get himself killed. All around a lot of mixed signals from the federal agents whose job it was to do what he'd done that night.
One major advantage of having federal agents for siblings was the opportunity for the two of them to be appointed his main security. Officers stood outside his room or not, neither Nancy nor Mateo trusted anybody in the world to watch over their little brother.
Nancy had volunteered herself first watch. So when Mateo let himself fall asleep at a reasonable time, Nancy was still using what little energy the six and a half cups of, what may as well have been, pure caffeine was left. Unusually, the young agent had always struggled with the task of sitting around and doing nothing during a case. On a normal day, if someone said relax she was probably already doing it. But, when both you and your family are being targeted by a serial killer? You see how easy it is to put your feet up and watch The Price is Right. But being there for Eddie was more important than her insatiable need to hunt a serial killer.
Itching for some kind of change of scenery, Nancy decided the best thing to do was to stretch her legs and leave the room. By now, the breakroom would be empty, and she'd have all the time in the world to decide upon a vending machine meal, "I'm gonna..." started Nancy, words accidentally interrupted by a mid-stretch groan, "I'm gonna see if I can find something to eat, alright?"
"Hmm," nodded Mateo, although he was blatantly half asleep. Nancy smirked, short chuckle escaping her chapped lips. Palms meeting her thighs, the young agent forced herself onto her feet
"Want anything?"
"Hmm?" repeated the elder Chavez, needing a few moments to process the words leaving his sister's mouth. He sighed again, rubbing his eyes as she ran a hand through tangled bedhead, "Uh, no... no, I'm good, thanks,"
"Cool," nodded the younger Chavez, using her brother's sleepiness to her advantage as she stole a dollar from his jacket pocket. Yet to make it out of the room, the final girl grinned, fingertips hanging on the doorframe as she called, "Hey..." mockingly turning serious, Nancy put on her best exaggerated low-budget actor voice, "I'll be right back,"
But Mateo didn't seem to find it funny in the slightest (which was fair enough considering they were less than 24 hours from their near-death experience).
"Really?" he frowned, head shaking in disbelief yet still, somehow, he was blatantly trying to hide a smile. Nancy could sense this, of course, yet to turn back to seriousness as she argued,
"Eddie would have laughed," glancing fondly at their brother, Nancy tried not to focus on the machine replicating the beat of his heart. Mateo's smile, too, began to fade, gaze following his sister's once joyful eyes.
"Yeah..." he trailed off, transparent efforts to remain the strongest of the two hadn't gone unnoticed by his little sister. Deciding not to press further, Nancy, hands in the pockets of her zipped-up hoodie, left him be.
─────
The breakroom was hardly a long walk from her brother's hospital room. And, just as she had suspected, was completely empty. The exit sign above the doorway she entered through flickered dimly, the only sound in the room the high-pitched buzz of electricity.
Nancy flinched when the silence was suddenly filled by the loud, monotonous ringing of her cell phone. She'd meant to change her ringtone since the first Ghostface call. To something a little less of a jumpscare, because she couldn't help but suspect he'd call her again.
UKNOWN NUMBER.
Of course. Maybe she should listen to her brother. Answering the call is what sent them to the hospital in the first place. But the bastard had made it far too personal. There was not a soul in the world Nancy would put before her baby brother. And whoever this wannabe Ghostface was, they were gonna pay.
Thumb hitting that glowing green button once again, Nancy remained silent as she brought the phone to her ear
"Hello, Nancy..."
The taunting tone fuelled Nancy's anger more than it did her fear, "You fucked up, you know," she spat, fingertips trembling with rage.
"Or maybe this is just what I wanted all along. To watch you suffer,"
Nancy whirled around cautiously at his word choice.
Watch her suffer.
There was a very real chance that he could see her right now, and Nancy was unarmed and wounded and was beginning to question her chances of survival if attacked again. She hadn't meant to allow her emotions to get the better of her. To retaliate like a threatened, wounded animal, "Or maybe you're some limp dick Tommy Miller wannabe that's in way over his head now you've decided to fuck with the big guns,"
He was silent for a long moment after that. As though thinking about what his greatest next move could be during their never-ending game of chess.
"Such a shame your brother will have to pay for your words..."
Nancy spun on her heels, staring into the doorway across the room as her back faced the only other exit, "You leave my brother out of this!" she sneered, "You want me? Grow a pair and come get me, asshole!"
"With pleasure!"
Nancy heard the door behind her slam before she had the chance to turn around yet still somehow managed to dodge the knife heading toward her head. Slicing through the cork of the message board, Nancy watched from where she'd fallen to the ground, scrambling to get to her feet before the killer could manage to pull his blade from the wall. Her phone slid across the ground, Ghostface using the momentum he gained pulling the knife free from the wall to strike Nancy across the face, knocking her back to the ground. Cursing herself for leaving her gun behind, Nancy grappled toward one of the chairs surrounding the breakroom table, grasping it by the metal legs and using it as a shield as the killer attempted to stab through it. She used this bloodlust to her advantage, combat-booted foot meeting the center of the chair to launch the masked murderer across the room or at least far enough for Nancy to make it to her feet.
"Help!" she'd almost hated herself for pleading for it but all pride flew out the window when face to face with her attacker once again. Able to run far enough around the table, Nancy stood back, staring at the ghostly mask as the man behind swiped his blade toward her across the table. When he attempted one way, Nancy ran the other. When Nancy tried to make her escape he blocked her way. Desperate for the trap to end, Nancy grasped the table by its edge, shoving it toward the killer and knocking him off his feet. Seizing the opportunity, Nancy sprinted toward the door, slamming it shut behind her as she continued down the hall toward Eddie's room for some form of backup (or at least a weapon).
Her journey was soon cut short, however, when she slammed into whichever poor soul had heard her screaming and come running.
"Nancy, what is it? What happened?" staring up in recognition, Nancy's eyes met the concerned gaze of none other than Spencer Reid. No time to question what he was doing at the hospital at this time of night, Nancy grasped him by the shoulder, looking behind her in terror before whirling back around,
"He's here! He attacked me in the breakroom, I don't have my gun!" In an instant, Spencer drew his, heading cautiously and quickly toward the breakroom door. He pushed it open, gun once aimed at the ground now pointed with extended arms as though expecting the killer to be in his line of fire.
But he wasn't.
Whoever had attacked Nancy was now gone, leaving her much to think about considering the only other person seemingly on the entire floor was conveniently Spencer Reid. She hated that it was her first thought. That her mind would betray her in such a way as to even think of an agent, much less someone from the bau, much less Spencer Reid, was the one behind the mask.
The young agent slowed, gun falling to his side as he turned back to face the trembling agent behind him. Breathlessly, Nancy ran a hand through her hair, staring past Spencer and through the only other exit to the breakroom, exit sign still flickering.
─────
Blue and red illuminated the sky as cop cars surrounded the hospital. And Nancy was left once again questioning her life decisions, the same way she had not twenty-four hours ago.
But at least there were no casualties this time.
Mateo remained inside the hospital, watching over their brothers and placing enough trust in Gideo to watch over his baby sister. Which he seemed to already have done, approaching the young agent as she sat at a bench, staring into the flashing lights. He didn't say anything at first, appreciating that Nancy may need the silence to recover. He didn't even sit beside her, he only waited for Delgado to approach them once again. Only then did Nancy channel her anger enough to speak aloud.
"This can't keep happening,"
"Nancy-" Delgado began, but the brunette simply got to her feet, arms tightly crossed over her stomach as she spoke with animosity.
"You're gonna put more cops on his room, right?"
"Yes," he nodded, "And I can move him to a private floor," but Nancy used little effort in hiding the lack of faith she now had in the local PD, "Listen, my guys know what they're doing," he insisted, although he may as well have been arguing with the wall, "you'll be safe,"
Nancy scoffed, unable to play nice a moment longer, "Like we've been so far?" she snapped, sneering when she added, "Don't you people have one fucking job?" sensing her venomous words would only escalate, Gideon placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, warning stare shot toward Delgado who, although insulted, seemed to understand her point.
"Nancy," he started, grasp turning to a gentle pat, "Walk with me," stood in place only for a moment, Nancy ran a hand through her hair before storming away from Delgado, although at a speed she knew Gideon could easily catch up to.
Which he did, once they'd rounded the corner to a side entrance of the hospital. Making their way inside, Nancy's power walk slowed to a leisurely pace as Gideon walked beside her.
"You know we haven't really had the chance to talk," he finally spoke, earning a raised brow from the young agent.
"Well, I've been attacked by a serial killer twice within 24 hours and I just got a new toaster, how's things with you?" when she didn't get a response, she realized what had happened. Gideon had never been the type to retaliate to people's sarcastic remarks. At least not people he cared about, people he knew were hurting, "Sorry..."
"You're upset," reassured Gideon, a soft smile noticing the relief on Nancy's face that she'd not upset him, "That's okay," Nancy shook her head slowly, hot tears pricking her eyes as her back hit the wall. Nancy and Gideon had found themselves in a secluded hallway of the hospital's bottom floor. Doctors and nurses still bustled past but lucky for them the only doorway nearby was the one they'd entered through, not one leading to a patient's room.
"I'm angry," which wasn't entirely a lie. Nancy had never felt such fury in her life, and she'd quite literally murdered a man. But that was different. That was for fear of her own life. This time, whoever it was had come after her little brother.
"You're a profiler," Nancy seemed confused at the sudden statement, but Gideon continued nonetheless, "You know how easily anger can hide a person's true emotions. It's alright to be scared, Nancy,"
Humorless chuckle escaping the young agent's lips, she wiped whatever tear dared to trail down her cheek with the back of her hand, "Stop treating me like glass, Gideon. I'm not gonna break,"
The gaze on the face of the agent before her would be read by anyone else in the world as pity. But Nancy knew better than to assume that of Jason Gideon. It wasn't pity or sympathy. It was something else entirely. A feeling of utmost trust and faith that Nancy couldn't quite put her finger on, "Sometimes it's okay to break," he soon added, with all the caution of a man that expected disagreement.
"Yeah, not gonna happen," insisted the Chavez girl, averting her gaze to stop herself from falling apart, "It isn't fair that some... coward behind a mask gets to ruin my life again,"
"So don't let him,"
"That's getting pretty difficult," scoffed Nancy, "He's not just after me, he's after my friends. My family," growing tired of all talking no doing Nancy pushed herself upright, taking a deep breath as she demanded, "Just... please tell me you have some good news," Gideon waited a long moment, as though unsure whether he truly should answer her question.
"We have news," stated the senior agent, taking a long pause before he continued, "I wouldn't call it good,"
❀
⠀ ⠀ AN EERIE SILENCE HAD SET OVER THE BREAKROOM AS the BAU team stared at the evidence board. Mateo had stayed behind to watch Eddie, apparently trusting Hotch far more than the officers that were supposed to be protecting the hospital. Seat taken furthest from the photographs of her past, Nancy's leg bounced as she stared at the center of the table. She hated that she'd grown suspicious of Spencer. If she pointed her finger because someone was in the wrong place at the wrong time she was no better than the detectives that accused her brothers.
"How'd you know he was coming?" Nancy shakily asked, apparently surprising her fellow agents by breaking her silence. Looking around at one another as though deciding which one of them should respond.
Eventually, Emily piped up, "He called Reid," Nancy's tongue poked at her cheek as she tried her best to hide her suspicions.
"Anybody else hear the call?"
Eyes narrowed ever so slightly, Morgan picked up on what Nancy was implying all too quickly. Though still, he held back growing protective, "Yeah... me,"
"Garcia trace it?"
"No..." silence set over again. Nancy hated that nobody seemed to have a damn thing to say. They could probably tell what she was insinuating. If Reid was killed, he'd have them all fooled by now anyway. It wasn't as though she could think of any kind of motive for it either.
"When?"
"Hmm?"
Nancy snapped at Reid ever so slightly, trying her best to mask a harsh glare, "What time did he call you?" she emphasized, slowing every word as she watched him scan his brain.
Although, for him, it was only a matter of seconds before the, more than likely exact, answer came, "Eleven thirty-nine,"
Every kind of alarm began to signal in Nancy's mind. She'd checked the time on her phone, she remembered what the clock said during that call. At eleven thirty-nine she was running for her life. But if Spencer was in any way guilty, if he'd been the one making the call, why on earth would he reveal that now?
"Not possible,"
"Why?" fired Morgan, although he quickly came to regret his defensive attitude.
"'Cause he was on the phone with me," shot the youngest agent, leaning back in her chair as getting angrier seemed to be the answer to ending her anxiety. Ever the middleman, Emily seemed determined to diffuse the rising tension in the room.
"Did it seem pre-recorded?" she asked, a genuine desire to help earning her a much less fiery response from the final girl.
"No," she replied, brow furrowed in thought, "No we... we spoke, we answered each other," Emily nodded, glancing toward Reid who opted simply to shake his head. He too was convinced he'd spoken to the unsub. But for some reason, of all the moments he could have possibly chosen from, Spencer became distant. As though he wasn't entirely listening to either accusation or, Derek rushing to his defense. His attention was elsewhere, gaze fixed on the evidence board.
This time it was JJ that decided to speak up, sitting up straight from her position at the table just below where Reid was standing, "I hate to say it," she began, as though dreading the words about to leave her mouth, "A-Are we dealing with... two unsubs?"
Undescribable dread trembled through Nancy's entire body. When the worst kind of penny dropped in her mind, all she could do was sit, mouth every so slightly agape, in a stunned state of terror. It was the only possible answer. It was the reason Nancy could have sworn the bastard was in two places at once in her apartment.
Two killers.
Two Ghostfaces.
"There wasn't the first time," Hotch finally piped up, although seemingly to satisfy his worries as Nancy's impending anxiety attack had somehow gone unnoticed, "Why would there be now?"
Fingertips meeting a photograph pinned to the corkboard, Spencer suddenly tore it from its place, his words a deafening whisper through the empty precinct, "Oh god..."
"Reid?" looking over with caution, Gideon remained in his spot beside the doorframe.
"There were two," somehow he'd managed not to yell, apparently more angered at himself than anybody else responsible for such a late revelation.
"What?" questioned Emily, stepping toward the frantic young doctor. But his eyes never left the photograph, pivoting toward the board to rip off a second photo, of which this time Nancy actually saw. It was the mask they'd taken from Tommy the day Nancy survived.
"In 1998..." he continued, almost too stunned to elaborate any further. He glanced at Nancy cautiously, as though apologetic simply for discovering the truth, "There were two," not a single profiler in the room could find a word to follow his theory. Even Nancy couldn't find the words to deny the truth. It would have been easy for the agents in the room that were there in 1998 to deny his statement completely. But apparently, Hotch and Gideon knew far better than to second guess the boy-genius that was Dr. Spencer Reid an opportunity to explain, "Look," Spencer placed the photographs at the head of the table, masks facing "Look at the masks,"
Morgan's hands met his hips, brows furrowed as he asked stated, "I'm looking at the same thing, man,"
"No," insisted Reid, "You're not," he ran a hand through his hair, making his way to the board to grab a surveillance photo from one of the more recent murders, "I can't believe I didn't see it before," he whispered to himself, though it was no use trying to hide anything during the quiet night hours of the precinct, "See the bottom of this one?" he began, fingertip running along the glossy edge of the first photograph, "It's slightly wider. The eyes, a centimeter further apart,"
"How does that prove anything?" piped Riley, not meaning to seem so against his two ghosts theory.
Spencer sighed, pacing the room as he continued to explain himself, "The movie was a hit. After the year of its release, the Ghostface costume has remained among the most popular Halloween costumes the year of its release. But they weren't allowed to use the same exact mold as the actual mask," explained Reid, "The new ones? The ones you can- can just buy anywhere? They mass produce those costumes. They're- they're factory made, they come out identical and they throw away the defective ones," making his way back to the table, Spencer rolled up the sleeves of his button-up as he leaned over to slide the middle photograph across the table toward Hotch, "This one?" Aaron lifted the photo, examining it closely as Reid continued, "This was made before the world knew what a Ghostface even was. It didn't matter if it was perfect or not. It was just some... spooky mask,"
Hotch simply frowned, "Couldn't that be distorted from the photograph?"
Spencer shook his head, "No," taking the opportunity to slide the first photograph back, Spencer pointed to the first photo he'd torn from the evidence board. One of the bloodied masks was still in some evidence box collecting dust, "This is the mask from '98," he pointed, hand gliding to tap the picture they knew to be Tommy, "Same as this one..." he sighed shakily, lining all three together, both photos from 1998 and then new one taken just days ago, "and this is from the security footage outside Nancy's apartment building,"
Morgan's head tilted, more horrified than shocked as he realized, "They're a match," Emily's eyes fluttered closed, for a short moment, before glancing toward Nancy, who had yet to say a single word.
"Which isn't possible if the manufacturers were forced to stop making them," added Prentiss, earning a regretful glance from Dr. Reid,
"And look, the security footage Garcia dug up?" he pointed once again, turning to grasp the file that he'd been staring at earlier, even before the hospital attack, and smack it onto the table, "This is from the school, okay?" he began, flipping through the pages until landing upon another series of surveillance images, "Thomas Miller. 5'9, the cloak swings above his shoes," he sighed, frantically turning through several other pages, almost going too far before landing upon the image he needed, "This!" he spun the folder, paper scraping across the wooden desk as it landed before Riley this time, "This is footage taken across the street from the Perez home,"
"What am I looking at?" questioned Marshall, finally on his feet as grasped the folder before anyone had a chance to argue.
"This one here?" Reid made his way across the room, flicking through the pages until he could slide the first image out to display his comparison, "They're two inches shorter,"
Emily raised a brow, apparently still new enough to the team to question, "You can work that out by looking at a photo?"
And, of course, this triggered Reid's need to info-dump, "When taking into account their surroundings it's not that difficult to estimate their height. Mathematically-"
"Bup, bup, bup," Riley stopped him, finger in the air, "you've got a point, you can get to it," his words actually seemed more encouraging than regretful, as though actively understanding than Reid's factual outburst were to no fault of his own and ordinarily he would listen. But now he simply couldn't. Spencer had been forcibly stopped countless times mid-tangent, but never had he seemed so understanding of the fact. He took a deep breath, every eye in the room on him.
"This isn't a copycat," he emphasized with urgency, "It's the killer they never caught,"
Silence settled uncomfortably over the room once again. It was only then, only when all eyes in the room were on her, that Nancy realized she hadn't said a damn word since hearing the sentence, 'there were two...'
She knew the reason, they were waiting for her say on the matter. Hotch and Gideon had probably displayed their concerns before she had been welcomed onto the case. She wasn't sure what they expected from her at that moment. To scream and cry like a little girl. Argue until she was blue in the face that he was wrong. That she'd put the one and only Ghostface down eight years ago.
But she couldn't.
She didn't have it in herself to fight it any longer. She'd had her suspicions. For years she'd thought about the impossibilities of what Thomas Miller had done. How he seemed to appear in two places at once. A fact she'd tucked away, like she did most things concerning the night she was forced to murder her boyfriend.
There was just one thing left on her mind.
One string of words she could manage to put together.
A phrase she'd heard once or twice during her visits to the BAU.
"We need to deliver the profile,"
AHA I DID IT !!!
A CHAPTER THAT DIDNT TAKE A WHOLE
MONTH TO COME OUT
this one is slightly shorter than usual cause its the second half of the original chapter i had that was like more than 10k words
also sorry if its super confusing what the 'billy loomis' of this book is. his name is thomas miller. i then realized that tommy miller is from the last of us so changed it to milligan but honestly its to many syllables to sound the way i want it to yk so im just gonna use joels brother's name !! watch me !!
n did i possibly copy the ghostface attacks from scream 5 & 2 and blend them together ?? and also totally stole the stop treating me like glass line from scream 2 ??? sureeee but ykw its fine at least i wrote smth 😭
ps the killer is NOT spencer i just enjoy making nancy paranoid of everybody in her personal life :D
ty for reading and voting
and commenting it really does make my day!
<3