You arrive in the roundtable room with coffee in hand, quickly sitting down in a chair. "Sorry I'm late, there was traffic."
Spencer is already seated, eyeing you slightly. He looks fucking cute in his red shirt and little brown jacket. JJ looks around at the team, pursing her lips.
"Two victims were killed an hour ago in their home in Atlanta—Dennis and Lacy Kyle were murdered inside of their home after hosting a small Super Bowl party. They were slaughtered." JJ looked at the screen. "The police were on the scene very fast—one of the unsubs called the police telling him the partner was about to murder the couple."
"Were any names mentioned?" Hotch asks, furrowing his brow.
"One of them is named Raphael. He said he was going to kill the sinners that lived there."
"Someone's religious," Morgan quips.
"The police found this on the bed," JJ says, a picture of a bible with a highlighted passage showing up on the screen.
"Revelations, chapter six, verse eight." You raise your eyebrows. The team looks at you questioningly. "I'm not religious—just raised where religion is very prominent."
"So they're mission based," Prentiss says.
"Mission based sinners won't stop killing," Spencer says, a frown on his face.
"Let's get back to Georgia. Wheels up in ten."
The team breaks off and you grab the go bag by your desk and start walking to the tarmac. Spencer catches up with you, his own bag slung over his shoulder.
"You were raised religiously?" He asks, keeping his gaze forward.
You shrug. "Eh, I tried the religion thing. It didn't work out."
The pair of you boarded the jet and took a seat. The flight to Atlanta isn't a long one. You came prepared, opening the book you had with you. Garcia's talk about the Witcher a couple weeks before had convinced you to start reading the books. After about half an hour on the jet, you heard Garcia's voice ring through the little video monitor.
"I just got the nine-one-one call."
You stand, listening in as the call rings through the small jet. The first unsub has a higher-pitched voice, notes of fear and hesitation laced in it.
"Too much stuff? What does that mean?" Spencer's eyebrows furrow.
The second unsub's voice takes over, deeper, more controlled. After the call, Prentiss raises an eyebrow.
"Maybe unsub one is doing it against his will?" She says.
"Not likely," Hotch replies, sighing. "This is a bad one."
"Raphael mentions himself in the third person. Do you think there could be another unsub?" JJ asks.
Spencer shakes his head. "A lot of serial killers refer to themselves in the third person. It's not uncommon."
Garcia excuses herself and Hotch begins speaking. "We need to hit the ground running with this one. JJ, start on Victimology. Prentiss, go where the bodies are. Examine them. Morgan, Reid, and Y/l/n, go to the crime scene."
"Yes, sir," you say, moving back to your seat.
The plane lands just under the hour, and the team moves as one, getting into cars and driving to their destinations. Morgan drives with you in the passenger seat and Spencer in the back. You bounce your knee, anxious.
"You okay?" Morgan asks, glancing over at you.
"I have a bad feeling about this case," you mutter. "Dealing with teams is tricky. Dealing with mission based teams is worse." You exhale. "They're going to kill again. I can feel it."
You feel a hand on your shoulder and you glance back. Spencer squeezes your shoulder lightly, giving you a small smile. You smile back, body relaxing a little at his touch.
"We'll catch them," Morgan says, staring straight ahead. "Don't worry."
The three of you arrive at the house, getting out and entering it quickly. You walk up to the bedroom, gasping quietly when you see the amount of blood on the carpet.
"Holy..." you trail off, glancing around the room. It's a simple master bedroom, almost pretty looking if it weren't for the massive blood stains. The longer you look at the room, the more the anger swells in your chest. "I'm so fucking tired of people using religion to justify their fucked up actions."
Morgan exhales. "I know."
Spencer wanders around the room, disappearing into the closet for a moment and walking back out. You look at the bed, then the blood stain on the floor, then the window.
"How do they kill someone and leave in just five minutes?" You murmur, shaking your head.
"The police didn't even have a chance," Spencer says, biting the inside of his cheek.
You look at the blood stain on the door. "Any prints?"
The cop standing in the room shakes his head. "Nope. The killer wore gloves."
Morgan furrows his eyebrows. "That's weird. Disorganized killers don't clean up after themselves."
Morgan's phone rings and he answers it. "Talk to me, baby girl."
You turn toward Spencer. "Why would mission based killers that think they're sent from God clean up after themselves? That doesn't make sense."
"Garcia, you're saying someone filmed this murder?"
Morgan's voice jolts you from your conversation, eyes going wide. "What?"
He shuts his phone, his eyes landing just behind you. You turn, looking at the small laptop on the desk.
"Holy shit. He filmed it?" You ask, bending over slightly to look at the laptop.
"I think he's watching us," Spencer says, looking at you and Morgan.
"We need to get back to Hotch. Now."
The three of you pile into the car, driving quickly back to FBI Headquarters in Atlanta. The three of you practically burst into the building, eyes landing on the rest of the team.
"What is it?" Hotch asks.
"The unsub filmed the murder," you tell him, looking around at the team.
"He filmed it?" Prentiss asks, raising her eyebrows.
"Garcia's sending us the video," Morgan says.
"What did you guys find out?" Spencer asks Prentiss.
"They were slaughtered like farm animals," Prentiss says. "One deep gash in the neck. The other on the forearm, the last one on the upper thigh."
"So we're looking at farmers?" You ask, furrowing your brows. "Good luck picking out which farmer. We're in bumfuck Georgia."
The team gathers around the monitor, watching the video begin to play. You avert your gaze, not wanting to watch. The video begins with unsub one, the unnamed one, speaking about God. After a moment, another voice pipes up, one you don't recognize.
"That's a third voice," you notice, the accent sticking out like a sore thumb.
"We have a third unsub?" Prentiss asks.
"They brought a camera with them?" Morgan asks, tilting his head. "That doesn't seem right."
Spencer, sitting in front of the laptop brought from the Kyle's house, suddenly shifts, whispering. "Guys, I think the laptop is bugged." He moves away from it. "I think it's connecting itself to the wireless internet and streaming somewhere."
"Where?"
Spencer shrugs. "I don't know."
Morgan pulls out his phone. "Baby girl, I need you to try to trace this laptop stream back to the source."
As he speaks, the laptop dings. The team crowds around the laptop, the screen black.
The Armies of Satan Will Not Prevail.
Seven words flash on the screen before the laptop shuts off. The team looks around at each other, dumbfounded.
"What the f—"
"Y/l/n, behave," Hotch warns.
Morgan puts the phone on speaker. "Garcia, can someone control someone else's computer remotely?"
"Yeah, mainly tech support can take over the computer for the time they're working on it."
The team talks on the phone with Garcia before hanging up, and you look at Hotch.
"So, we're looking for someone in IT?"
"Or someone who has experience in it."
"Alright guys, it's been a long day. Let's go to the hotel."
You all file into the SUVs and you lean your head against the window. Today's been a long day, and the pressure to find the unsub made it feel 10x longer. This case is confusing—exactly how many fucking unsubs are we dealing with?
The ride to the hotel is short, and you grab your go bag. Hotch hands you a room key and you pile into the elevator with everyone, your arm touching Spencer's. His hand brushes yours slightly, a calming gesture. You lean into his touch, savoring the warmth of his body. The bell dings and the elevator opens. The team files you, heading into their respective rooms. You throw Spencer a small smile before opening your door.
The first thing you do is shower. You haven't showered since before your little night with Spencer last night. The hot water feels good against your skin, and you wash you wash your hair and body. You stay in the shower for an excessive amount of time, the water almost feeling too good. Eventually, you step out, drying yourself off and pulling on an old Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts. You lay back in bed, sighing. Images of slaughtered bodies and murders fill your head and you stand up. You don't want to be alone right now. You can't be alone.
Making sure the coast is clear; you slip out of your room, knocking softly on Spencer's. He opens the door and immediately lets you in. He closes it softly before turning to you.
"I..." you trail off, voice catching in your throat. "Can I sleep here tonight? I don't want to be alone."
Spencer's eyes soften and he nods. "Of course."
The two of you file into bed and he wraps his arms around you. You lay your head on his chest, hearing the steady beating of his heart.
"Thanks," you whisper, feeling him rub little circles in your back.
"Like I said last night, you can always stay," he murmurs, planting a kiss on the top of your damp head.
"You're too good," you whisper, eyelids feeling like lead as you close your eyes.
"No, that's you," he whispers back.
Eventually, you fall asleep, the lulling sound of Spencer's heart pulling you under.
•••
You awake to an empty bed. Groggily, you sit up, watching Spencer put his clothes on.
"Hotch called," he says. "He wants us down at the station."
You groan and sit up, rubbing your eyes. Standing up, you walk over to Spencer, giving him a small kiss. "Thanks. For letting me stay."
"Always," he grins, kissing you again.
You slip out of his room and back into your own. You brush your teeth and pull your hair up into a ponytail. You put on a pair of light brown high waist pants with a white shirt tucked into it, noticing the small stain on the collar of it. You slip the gun holster through your belt loops, pushing your gun inside. Sighing, you grab your phone and head out, running into Spencer in the hallway.
He laughs and the two of you walk to the elevator, slipping inside. Spencer's fingers brush yours again and you smile, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing for a moment. He leans over, giving you a small kiss as the bell dings. You unlace your fingers and the two of you walk to the SUV.
The drive to the station is short, and the two of you enter the building to find the rest of the team already there. JJ's talking to Hotch, who looks at Spencer.
"Why don't you and Reid go and question him? See if he remembers anything?" Hotch asks, raising his eyebrows.
"Who are we questioning?" Spencer asks, walking over to Hotch.
"Tobias Hankel," JJ says. "He's an eyewitness. He saw a prowler outside of the Kyle's house three months ago. He lives about an hour from here."
"Let's go." Spencer turns around and eyes you. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" He whispers as he passes you.
You nod, watching him and JJ leave the building. You turn back toward the team. "Anything?"
"Yeah," Hotch says, looking at you. "We have another murder."
"Morgan, you're coming with me to the crime scene. Y/l/n, you stay here with Prentiss."
The two of them rush out of the building and you look at Prentiss, raising your eyebrows. "Well, this is a fun case." Your voice drips with venom.
Prentiss sits next to you. "It's driving me crazy." Glancing at you, a little grin slides across her face. "So, how are you and pretty boy?"
A little blush creeps across your cheeks. "We're fine."
"Did you tell him you have feelings for him?" She asks, eyes glancing over the map in front of you.
"No, I didn't have to. He already knew." Your eyes trail over the files on the table. "We're not dating or anything, though."
"You will eventually, though," Prentiss says, grinning. "Just sex with feelings will catch up to the two of you eventually."
You laugh. "I know."
"So...what's he like in bed?"
Your mouth opens at her question. "Emily!"
"What, I'm curious!"
You roll your eyes at her. "I took his virginity, okay."
"So he's bad?"
"No, the complete opposite. He's so good," you grin at the thought of Spencer. "He's very submissive."
"Ah, I see." Her smile widens. "You two are good together, you know. I see how he looks at you. He'd move the fucking planets around to make you happy."
"I'm...very fond of him," you reply, biting the inside of your cheek. "Okay, let's get to work."
The two of you work for about an hour, trying to nail down anything you can about the unsubs. The two of you come up empty, frustration growing inside your chest. Eventually, the two members of your team reappear, looking disheveled.
"What did you find out?"
"They only murdered on person—the other they took." Hotch moves to the table, a frustrated frown on his face.
"That's new behavior," Prentiss says, tilting her head.
"Raphael was also the one who called the police," Morgan says. "It's like the phone call is necessary to him. Like he needs it."
"Did he leave another bible verse?" You ask, standing.
"Yeah, another Revelations," Hotch says.
"This is weird, guys," you say. "The dominant and submissive roles in this kind of partnership just don't swing back and forth like this."
"What if...what if Raphael doesn't actually exist?" Hotch asks.
Your eyes widen. "Holy shit. How did we not see this before?"
"What?" Prentiss asks.
"Raphael...the unnamed unsub...they're the same person." You stand up, brows furrowed. "Two people inside one person's head. What does that sound like to you?"
"Split personality," Morgan says.
"Dissociative personality disorder is...complicated," you explain. "I did a thesis paper over it in college. It's a doozy of a personality disorder. But it could explain the phone call, and the reason Raphael called this time."
"What about voice number three?" Prentiss asks.
"Maybe he has three personalities?" You wonder aloud.
Hotch's phone buzzes. "Hello?"
"There's a second video going viral." Garcia's voice is sad.
The team piles around the computer, playing the video. You have to look away, hearing the dog's barks and the ripping of flesh. Fuck, no.
The cop watching the video pipes up. "Those dogs in the video attacked someone a couple months ago."
"What?" You ask, whipping your head back to him.
"The victim didn't want to press charges. It was the neighbor's dogs."
"Do you have the owner's name?"
The officer flips through his book. "Hankel."
"Hankel?" Hotch asks.
Your eyes go wide, heart practically stopping. Hankel. Tobias Hankel. Spencer and JJ are on their way to his house right now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"We need to go. Now."
You strap on an FBI vest. The four of you pile into the SUV, speeding along the rural Georgia roads in the dark, sirens blaring. Tobias lives an hour away from the station—and every second of that hour your heart was pounding, a wave of nausea washing over you. Spencer has his gun. He'll be okay, right?
You pull out your phone, dialing his number. You yell in frustration as it goes to voicemail, throwing your phone on the car floor.
"You can't reach them?" Morgan asks.
You shake your head. "No. I'm fucking worried."
Prentiss looks at you, a knowing look on her face. "We'll find them. I promise."
Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, you pull up to the house. Morgan and Hotch take the house, and you and Prentiss scout the barn around the back of the house. You have your gun drawn, your flashlight underneath it. You and Prentiss swiftly run around back, pushing open the barn door. Your flashlight lands on a figure on the ground and you almost yell. A dead dog. Another dead dog. You stumble upon a bloody mattress, the stench of death hanging around it.
"FBI!"
You hear JJ's voice and you turn, lowering your gun.
"JJ!"
Her wild eyes take in your figures, blinking hard. Her body is shaking, her gun pointed right at you.
"Don't move!" She screams.
"Hey, it's Prentiss and Y/l/n, okay? Don't shoot!"
Recognition flashes through her eyes and she shakily lowers the gun. She looks like hell. Her hair is wild and frizzy, clothes dirty. She looks down at the dead dogs, her voice shaking.
"I had to kill them...they were going to kill me."
"Where's Reid?" You ask, your voice low.
"They just...they tore her—"
"JJ! Where's Reid?"
"We split up. He said he was going around back."
You don't think, sprinting out of the barn, your gun held up. You run around to the back of the barn, fear and panic seeping through your veins. You don't see Spencer anywhere. Your breathing increases, trying to keep the tears from springing at the corners of your eyes.
"Y/l/n!"
You turn around, panting. "Reid's gone. Spencer's gone. Tobias took him."
—————————————
Author's Note
Welcome to angst city, population all of you. I know this chapter is a little repeat of the episode before Revelations, but I needed to set the scene for Reid's kidnapping! I hope the Criminal Minds writers don't sue me, lmao.
Thank you all for your sweet comments on this fic! I love all of them. I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)