ABLOCATE ▇▇▇▇ VOLUME TWO
━━ ❛ 𝒅𝒐𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒂 𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒕 ❜
chapter no. 056!
❝ WHAT'S BELIEVED TO BE A
TARGETED KILLING. ❞
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﹙ MARCH 1ST, 2018 ﹚
MEET ME AT MY OFFICE IN AN HOUR. Those eight words reflected in Cara's deep blue eyes as she stared at her illuminated phone screen. The text had been sent by Hotch at seven-thirty that morning. Luckily, Cara had seen it come through on her way back from the bathroom that morning and didn't fall back asleep. Now, it was eight-thirty on the dot, and Aaron Hotchner was nowhere to be seen.
Puffing out her cheeks, Cara let out a sigh. No further context was provided so she didn't know if they were meeting over something good or something terrible. It'd been a year and approximately nine months of silence from the Founding Fathers. Sometimes it felt like they would never come back and other times it felt like they already were. The paranoia Cara lived with had eased but still lingered. It never faded fully and never would until Michael Le, Konaam Shirzad, and Matthew Johnston were arrested or dead.
After all, Le promised that they would reunite when the time was right. A fact Cara couldn't forget, no matter how much she tried.
A ding rang and she glanced down. Spencer's name flashed on the screen for she'd just received a text from him. A small smile drew at the corners of her lips and she unlocked her phone to read the message.
Would you like me to bring you coffee?
Strands of white blonde hair fell in her face while she typed out a response and she blew some of them away. She'd told him via text earlier that she was on the way to the BAU to speak with Hotch. This was the first time he'd responded.
That would be nice. Thank you.
At that, she locked the device and slid it into the pocket of her light grey dress pants. Her stare anxiously bounced around the bullpen as she stood outside of Hotch's office. It wasn't like the man to be late and not inform her. That fact kept repeating itself in her mind and she did her best to ignore it.
Hotch was running late. It was as simple as that.
Yeah, right.
Another sigh slipped her lips and Cara leaned against the double-paned windows. Subconsciously, she reached for her wrist and drove the pad of her thumb into it. The act was a habit she'd been working on breaking, but it wasn't easy to shake. Especially since she didn't always realize when she was doing it.
"Cara."
At the sound of her name being called, Cara averted her gaze upward. Finally, the Unit Chief had arrived and was walking up the short flight of stairs to his office. There was a stack of files in the man's hands, and the sight made her heart pause. The files could mean nothing, but she wasn't convinced.
Once he unlocked the door, Hotch opened it and turned on the lights in his office. He tilted his head to the left, silently telling the blonde that she could come in.
Instantly, she obliged and went to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. Her heart was racing and she was pressing into her wrist harshly and quickly now. The skin was bright pink and becoming raw.
A million different thoughts were soaring through her mind, and she was trying not to assume the worst. She was trying so hard, but if history was any indicator of where this could be headed... Every single time she'd been called to Hotch's office in the past, it always had to do with the Red Scorpions. Always.
The door shut and Hotch decided to keep the blinds closed. "Please, sit," he instructed, rounding his desk.
Rather than listening this time, the woman remained still, her line of sight never leaving Hotch. She couldn't work up the nerve to move. "What's going on?" she asked softly, not wanting to beat around the bush.
At the delicate and shaken tone, the dark-haired man glanced up. "I wanted to check in with you," he explained, recognizing the apprehensive— bordering on fearful— facial expression Cara wore. "There haven't been any developments. Everything is okay. All right?"
Cara bit the inside of her cheek and observed his stance. His dark brown eyes did not hold a single sign of deception. His posture was as rigid as it normally was and the muscles in his face were relaxed. There wasn't a single sign of duplicity that she could find.
He wasn't lying to her.
That didn't surprise her, though. In the entire time she'd known Hotch, Cara couldn't presently recall a time where he'd lied to her.
"Phone calls are a great resource to utilize when you want to check in on someone."
Hotch gave her a pointed stare and set the stack of files down on his desk. "I am aware of that, thank you." He motioned for her to sit.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Cara reluctantly walked forward and sat in one of the two empty chairs. Before she had the chance to open her mouth and say something else, Hotch spoke.
"How are you?"
"Generally or how am I post-interrogation?"
Shrugging, he set his briefcase on the floor. "Either."
Cara monitored him with attentive eyes and chose to be truthful. "Generally, I'm good. There's been a few bumps here and there, but I'm taking it one step and one day at a time. It's a process. Post-interrogation, I'm... healing," she replied, forcing herself to release her wrist and put an end to the rubbing. Instead, she smoothed the palms of her hands against the soft material of her pants.
"In all transparency, I was worried about you," Hotch admitted, sitting in his office chair.
A slight frown tugged at her lips and she sank into the cushioned seat. "Yeah, me too," she muttered, biting the inside of her cheek.
"I know Saturday was intense. I'm sorry I couldn't be the one to lead the interrogation," he apologized, interlocking his hands that rested on top of his desk. His countenance was sincere and he wasn't hiding the remorse he felt.
Cara's features softened and she inclined forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. The fabric of her black turtleneck rubbed against her neck, and she reached up to adjust it. "I know, Aaron," she said, giving him a weak half-smile. "You were there, and that's what matters, and I got through it. I survived."
The corners of his lips inched upward and he nodded. "I'm proud of you," he told her, watching as her cheeks burned pink.
"Thanks..." A lot of people had been saying that to her recently. It was nice. "I know this is random, and I'm not deflecting by bringing this up," she almost snorted at Hotch's instantly unconvinced expression, "Jack texted me yesterday. He wants me to come to his basketball game next weekend. Apparently, basketball season concludes for middle schoolers at the end of this month?"
The mention of his son caused Hotch to involuntarily smile. "Yes, that's true. I told him this weekend was too late notice. Reid's also welcome to come."
Ah, hell. Not him, too. Rossi's influence was becoming too strong.
"Dave's corrupted you, hasn't he?" Cara asked with narrowed eyes, pretending as if she and Spencer hadn't crossed the line between being friends and being something more nearly a week ago.
"Perhaps," he said, raising a knowing eyebrow. "I'm not blind, Cara."
"No, I know. You just usually choose not to say anything. You should go back to doing that," she advised, sitting back in the chair and sliding her palms over her pants.
"Hilarious," he scoffed, breaking into a gentle chuckle at the smirk she wore. "You doing all right, though? Truthfully?"
Cara locked eyes with him and her face softened. The smirk was gone. "I am. Truthfully," she added, tipping her head to the side.
Five seconds of Hotch surveying her composure, posture, and body language passed until he concluded she was being frank with him. Nowadays, it was much easier to read her than it had been years ago. In the past, she was an expert at concealing her feelings and what she was thinking. At the time, it'd almost been frustrating. She would never show anyone how she felt. Presently, she didn't put in the effort to hide her feelings or thoughts. Instead, she embraced them.
There were times when she put up those defense mechanisms and blocked others out. It happened less frequently now, though.
"Good," Hotch replied. "I have something for you, by the way."
Blinking, Cara chose to say anything while he reached into one of the bottom drawers of his desk. A distant rustling could be heard and she pulled a blank face. "That better not be what I think it is," she sighed, rubbing her temples.
"Don't be mad at Dave. He only told me," Hotch said, revealing a blue gift bag with white tissue paper sticking out of it. "I know your birthday was on Tuesday, so Jack and I got you something."
Pressing her lips together, the blonde stared at the present being held out to her hesitantly. It was only when he shook the bag that she rolled her eyes and took it. As long as Rossi only told him, she was fine. The rest of the team would make a bigger deal out of it, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Birthdays and holidays meant nothing to her. At least not since she was seven, and everyone knew that. That had been due to her time being a drug trafficker, and it was a mindset she had yet to shake.
Across from her, Hotch saw her apprehensive countenance turn into one of surprise. There weren't many times that he'd seen her shocked.
Cara felt a lump rise in her throat, and she shoved it down. "This is the first puzzle I completed on my own once my wrists and fingers were healed," she whispered, awe-struck.
During her initial two-month stay in the hospital after being rescued, she and Hotch spent much of the time sitting in silence, either doing a puzzle on the portable desk next to her bed or coloring. With her wrists still sore and recovering, not to mention her fingers, Cara couldn't color or do the puzzles. Instead, she'd pick out a picture she liked and select what markers she wanted Hotch to use, or she'd pick a puzzle and help him make it. No words were exchanged, just small gestures and facial expressions.
Then, when that got boring or Cara showed disinterest, the Unit Chief would talk. Sometimes she'd respond, other times she didn't. Stories about his son, Jack, were shared and he'd filled her in on the cases she missed.
Those were memories she held dear to her heart and considered sacred. It was when she and Hotch's friendship blossomed, and he became one of the two father figures in her life— the other being Rossi. She'd never disclosed that to either of them, but she had an inkling they knew.
"Yes, it is," Hotch confirmed, smiling at the memory of that day.
It was a rectangular one-hundred-piece puzzle of a black kitten. Cara had no idea that the man had kept it. The fact he did brought her close to tears and she inhaled sharply. "Didn't realize you were so sentimental, Aaron," she muttered, pulling out the matte black picture frame.
He mimicked her eye-roll from a minute ago. "Look inside again."
Doing what he said, Cara let out a breathy laugh. "Are you and your son trying to elicit an emotional reaction?" she remarked, grabbing the framed drawing Jack had done. It was of them at the beach last summer with his father and Rossi, and it was quite good. It was essentially a remake of a photo that'd been taken of them by a random stranger.
He'd drawn himself sitting on top of Hotch's shoulders, both of them smiling, and Cara stood next to them with Rossi. The Italian man's arm was lying over her shoulders and he was side-hugging her tightly. He was smiling, too. Lastly, Cara was wearing sunglasses that covered most of her blank face and was flipping off the imaginary camera that was taking this photo.
This year in school, he was taking an art class and had been bringing home drawings and paintings of his. A lot of them were given to Hotch, but he'd made some specifically for Cara, Rossi, and Morgan since he saw them the most out of the team. He'd gotten a lot better with his technique and the pictures were impressive for his age.
Hotch and Morgan had recently come to the conclusion that he wasn't going to go to law school or work in law enforcement like his father. Jack was likely going to do something artistic if his interests were of any indication.
"Fuck. I can't believe he included me flipping off the camera," Cara snorted, shaking her head.
What a great influence she was.
"I suppose he was sticking to the original," Hotch chuckled. "I was a little surprised he chose that one instead of the one where you smiled. He said it was because this one captured your personality more."
Both of Cara's eyebrows raised and her jaw slackened. "Huh," she hummed, twisting her lips to the side. "I'm touched."
It was a genuine statement, and the dark-haired man knew that. Right as he went to reply, his office phone began to ring.
"Time to get to work it seems." Cara took that as her cue to leave and stood. "I'm going to leave the present in here. I'll grab it before I go home."
Hotch sent her a thumbs up and answered the phone, "Hotchner."
In less than six seconds, she gave the gift bag back to him and exited the ten-by-eleven-foot office. She silently shut the door and descended down the stairs. Her eyes scanned the bullpen in search of any member of the team. None of them had arrived yet. So, it was up to her to find something to occupy her mind.
For the next seven minutes and fifty-six seconds, she walked around the space and spoke briefly to other agents who recognized her. She also took the time to reacquaint herself with the BAU. Like she told Penelope on Saturday, she'd almost forgotten what the BAU looked like.
Her feet had a mind of their own and kept her moving at a steady pace. It wasn't until Cara was nearing a familiar U-shaped desk that she slowed down. Once she reached it, she stood in the center.
The tips of her fingers trailed on top of the empty desk that used to be hers. It was peculiar, standing beside the place she'd once inhabited and worked at, day in and day out. Nothing about it had changed in the slightest, aside from the fact that her belongings now sat somewhere in F.B.I. storage or evidence. Either was plausible. She knew that Hartley the Cacti was safely living in Penelope's office, though.
Morgan's desk was now inhabited by Luke, Blake's desk was now Tara's, and the desk next to Cara's was home to Matt. Time had moved on, agents had come and gone, and she found the change to be bittersweet.
Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her from behind as someone hugged her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. There was no need to tense, though. Every inch of her body knew who it was.
Immediately, she turned to see Spencer Reid beaming at her, holding two cups of coffee from Petit Café. The corner of her lips tugged upward as she fully faced him. "Someone is happy," she observed, raising a slightly puzzled brow.
"I am," Spencer replied, stepping closer. "You're here."
His words caused her cheeks to burn, and she couldn't help but smile. "Well, you can thank Hotch for that."
"I will. Oh! Here's your coffee," the doctor held out one of the to-go cups to her.
Gratefully, Cara accepted it. "Thank you. I didn't brew any this morning before I came in," she murmured, humming in satisfaction as the hot drink traveled down her throat.
"Are you sticking around today?" Spencer asked, gently grabbing her free hand. He slowly pulled them toward his desk and continuously glimpsed over his shoulder at her relaxed frame.
"I can," she shrugged. Truthfully, she hadn't given much thought to what the rest of her day would entail, but she wouldn't mind staying at the BAU a little longer. This time she'd be staying because she wanted to, not because she was obligated to. That fact provided her with some comfort.
The pair's fingers disconnected, and Spencer placed his satchel on the floor next to his chair. Quietly, Cara sat on the left side of the desk where there weren't any files, paperwork, or books piled up. She placed the coffee aside. Mindlessly, her eyes traveled around the bullpen. Under her breath, she unconsciously hummed the melody of Walkin' After Midnight while observing more agents arriving for work. The momentary silence engulfing the room was comforting, and she felt at peace. It was a welcomed change from last Saturday.
Adjacent to her, Spencer watched with a doting expression. Having her at the BAU was nice, and he could tell that she was also appreciating it today. There was a glimmer in those deep blue eyes that made his heart race. Especially since he knew that glimmer turned into a gleam when she looked at him. He'd never grow sick of that. He'd never grow sick of anything related to her.
Feeling a hand cup her cheek, Cara blinked and brought her gaze to meet the man in front of her. "I'm sorry. I spaced—" Her words were cut short when he leaned down and connected their lips. Almost instantly, her eyes fluttered shut.
The fleeting kiss lasted only three seconds when the genius drew back. "I wanted to do that before the rest of the team got here," he whispered, dropping his hand and placing it on her leg. With his other hand still holding his coffee, he set the drink next to hers.
All the thoughts racing through the blonde's brain faltered at the feeling of him touching the side of her thigh. Spencer didn't appear to notice and he continued talking, his words sounding lightyears away. The kisses they shared Saturday night and everything that transpired between them replayed in her mind as she stared at him.
Since then, she'd seen him once in person when he came over Monday evening after work. They'd cuddled on the couch, read their current books of choice, and ate Chinese food. Silence basked them for most of the time and it was comforting. A handful of kisses had been happily exchanged, too.
Now, it was Thursday, and she was reminded all over again of how much she enjoyed kissing him. In a way, it was almost addicting.
"Kiss me."
Those two words escaped her before she could stop them, and he froze.
"W-What?"
Well. It was too late to take it back now.
"You heard me." Cara stared at him expectantly, fighting back the urge to laugh at how off-guard she'd caught him. It was taking a great deal of effort to maintain a straight face.
Spencer Reid was glued to the spot, eyes wide. His mind had gone blank, and he was struggling to respond. "Uh, I uh, a-are you sure? Lu-Luke and Rossi just walked in. Perhaps—"
All it took was her grabbing his arm and dragging him seven inches closer for him to shut up. Cara peered up through her eyelashes and tilted her head. Once their eyes locked, all nerves and worries about their friends seeing them kiss faded away. Spencer's shoulders dropped and a smile began to form. He took a final step and diminished the space between them. Grabbing the bottom of her chin, he lifted her head and kissed her tenderly. The two stayed together for a moment until he broke away, and Cara's eyebrows formed a jagged line.
"That's not what I—"
Before she could finish, Spencer dipped his head and leaned forward, instantly deepening the kiss. Letting go of her chin, he placed his hand on her cheek and ran a thumb across it. The pair fell into sync, their lips moving slowly.
Across the bullpen, Luke and Rossi had stopped talking and were gawking at the sight. Neither was sure they were seeing things correctly or hallucinating what the entire team, including the new additions, had been waiting years for. Either was likely.
Bounding into the room, JJ let out a heavy sigh. "Rossi, Luke, have either of you seen Anderson? He was supposed to—"
"Have you seen Valentine and Reid?" Luke returned with.
JJ furrowed her brows and followed where the man was pointing. All thoughts regarding the forensic report Anderson was supposed to bring her vanished. A gasp sounded, and her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, my gosh! Spence finally—"
"Holy shit! Is that Reid and Cara kissing?!" Tara exclaimed, a smile breaking as she and Matt joined the three.
Rossi nodded, a satisfied grin lining his face. "The kid finally did it. About damn time, too." He felt like a proud father in that moment.
"They're cute," Matt smiled, and JJ nodded in agreement. She was nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet. This was something she'd been quietly rooting for since twenty-fourteen.
"Garcia's going to be so pissed she missed this if she doesn't show up within the next few seconds," Tara commented, glimpsing over her shoulder. The colorful analyst was nowhere to be seen.
"Not to mention, she won't believe it unless she sees it happen again," Luke added, chuckling to himself.
Cara and Spencer separated not a moment later. Neither was aware of the sets of eyes watching them, for their attention was solely on the other.
"Are you sure now?" Cara checked, raising an eyebrow.
Spencer tilted his head and tucked short strands of blonde hair behind her ears. "Sure about what?" He pecked her on the lips a final time.
A blissfully crooked smile spread across her face, and she laughed. Four kisses and he'd already forgotten about their previous conversation. "Sure about kissing me in front of the team, Pretty Boy." She poked his chest lightly.
The sight and sound of her smile and laugh almost made Spencer weak enough in the knees to fall. It would always make him feel like he won the lottery. Luckily, he caught himself and rested a palm on the desk next to her right thigh. "Oh, I'm definitely sure now." An identical smile overtook his features, and he subconsciously glanced at her lips.
When she noticed where his gaze rested, Cara blushed. "Good because I like kissing you," she whispered, admitting a truth that they already knew.
"I'm glad," he matched the volume of her voice and sighed contently. "'Cause I do too. A lot. I like kissing you a lot. I also like you."
Reaching forward, she ran the fabric of his white polka-dotted burgundy tie between her fingers. "Oh, I know," she said teasingly before giggling at the deadpanned look he wore. "Do not look at me like that, Spencer Reid. You are very aware that I reciprocate those same feelings."
In all the time he'd known her, he'd only heard her giggle once, and that was on Monday night. While she'd been taking their Chinese food out of the delivery bag in the kitchen, he'd snuck up and tickled her. The gesture had made her giggle uncontrollably until they found themselves tangled together and making out.
Prior to that, Spencer never knew how much he'd fall in love with the sound of someone giggling. He never knew that it'd become one of his favorite songs, but it did— Cara's giggle did.
"Oh, am I?" he mused, kissing her nose and chin.
Her lips parted and her eyebrows rose significantly high. "Listen here, wise guy," she drew him even closer by pulling on his tie, and he grinned. "If you don't cut your cheeky shit and shut—"
"OH, MY GOD!"
The sudden shout of surprise caught most agents off-guard, including Spencer and Cara, who'd flinched. All attention turned toward the entrance of the room where a flabbergasted Penelope Garcia stood. The rest of the team, minus Hotch, had parted and pivoted to look at her, too.
The analyst was positioned in front of the glass doors with her mouth wide open, jaw-dropped. Her eyes were practically bulging out of her head, and the papers she'd been carrying were scattered across the carpet. Her gaze was fixated on Spencer and Cara, and she couldn't look away. The pair were literally inches away from kissing.
Holy mother of God. This was the day she'd been praying to the Heavens for.
Cara was sitting on top of Spencer's desk and he stood between her legs. His tie was clenched in her right hand and the left one rested on his chest. Meanwhile, his left hand was placed on the desk next to her thigh and his right was holding her hip. They were almost the same height with her sat on the desk, but he still loomed over her by an inch or two. This was the closest Penelope had ever seen them outside of hugging.
"Ah, hell," Cara mumbled, unraveling Spencer's tie from her fingers and releasing it. Her touch left his chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the doctor glancing at her with a smirk.
Penelope was never going to let this go.
"I liked that, though," he said quietly, referring to how she'd been drawing him closer by his tie.
Narrowing her stare, she briefly looked at him. "Weren't you the one who didn't want to kiss in front of the team?" she retorted, noticing that most people were resuming back to business as usual.
Spencer shrugged and straightened his posture, removing his palm from the surface of the desk. "Yes, but you're very persuasive," he whispered, going to step back when Penelope shouted again.
"KISS, YOU IDIOTS!"
"Garcia," Tara hissed, slapping the side of the woman's arm. "No yelling, remember?"
Penelope ignored her and grumbled, "Shut up, you're ruining the moment."
"Actually," Luke started, adjusting the backpack he was wearing, "you are, Garcia." That comment easily earned him a dramatic scowl.
Rossi gave her a disapproving glare. "Penelope, we don't need to have another talk, do we?"
At the question, Penelope gasped and looked at him. Panic erupted in her face. "What? No! I'm sorry, it's just— they just— they were about to kiss! Did anybody else see that?!"
Chuckling, Matt shook his head. "Penelope, we saw them kiss the first time," he said, smiling sadly at her.
"The first time?!? How many times did I miss?!"
────
THREE HOURS HAD SLOWLY YET QUICKLY PASSED BY. The first consisted of team members, primarily Penelope Garcia, asking Cara and Spencer question after question about when they got together. Neither had said much on the matter. For the most part, Spencer maintained a blush running from the top of his head to his neck and worked with a small smile on his lips. Cara, on the other hand, had dodged the inquiries and read at her old desk in her old chair. Every few minutes, she'd occasionally flip Penelope, JJ, or Tara off.
By the second hour, Penelope had begrudgingly given up and gone to sulk in her lair. Everyone else was working and minding their business. They all knew that the questions would only make the pair more uncomfortable. So, they were leaving them alone because it truly was none of their business.
During the third hour, Cara found herself sitting criss-cross on Tara's desk and still reading. Tara was on the phone with a police sergeant from a previous case, trying to verify some information. Since her desk was pressed against the side of Spencer's, Cara had a hand outstretched. Spencer held it tenderly and continuously ran his thumb across the back of it while he filled out paperwork.
Everything was peaceful and she was content. Deciding to stay at the BAU for the day had been a good choice.
"Hey," Spencer muttered, closing a manila folder and grabbing a new case file.
Turning the page in her book, Cara hummed in acknowledgment. She squeezed his hand to let him know she was listening.
"That date I want to take you on..." He kept the volume of his voice low and his eyes downcast. "Are you free Saturday?"
Cara's attention went to him, and she bit back a smile. "Yes, I am," she murmured, squeezing again.
"Good." Spencer shifted in his chair and gazed up at her, smiling. "Does two work?"
"Two sounds good to me," she breathed, gradually breaking into a shy smile the longer she stared at him. A soft chuckle escaped her and she shook her head, returning to the book in her lap. Her cheeks were a light pink.
Tracing every feature on the side of her face with his eyes, Spencer's heart melted. "Thank you for staying today," he whispered, tugging on her hand. The action caused her to look back at him. "It means a lot, and I like having you here."
The light pink shade deepened, and she nodded. "You're welcome," she whispered, glancing at his lips before meeting his endearing stare again. It was her silent way of asking if she could kiss him.
She felt she needed to ask since a few of their friends had questioned them so much for kissing earlier. Yes, she was wholeheartedly comfortable with him and expressing affection, she trusted him, but she didn't want to overdo it. Especially in public— even if it was small acts. She also didn't want to put Spencer in an uncomfortable position. He was the one who worked at the BAU, not her.
The unspoken question was clear as day, and Spencer grinned. His feelings and trust in her overpowered any discomfort he'd normally get from being affectionate in public. He didn't mind. Not when it came to Cara.
A single nod was his response and Cara leaned down, kissing him quickly. As she began to sit back up, he chased after her and pressed a haste and final kiss to her lips. The gesture made her blush more, and she returned to her original stance. Her head was ducked and she had a smile on her face.
Over in the kitchenette, Matt and JJ watched distantly with smiles of their own.
"How long have they liked each other?" Matt asked the blonde, placing his food in the microwave.
JJ held her mug of coffee close to her chest. "I think Spence started developing feelings for her in December of twenty-thirteen but didn't realize it. As for Car, I'm not sure," she confessed. "She's a professional at masking her thoughts and feelings. If I had to guess, I'd say maybe two or three months before she was taken. It's hard to tell, looking back."
Matt nodded in understanding. "They have a really strong connection," he noted, seeing that the pair were still holding hands.
"It's hard to miss it," JJ replied; her heart was warm as she continued to watch. "They've been through a lot." The last part was mumbled under her breath, and she was grateful that the two had each other.
The microwave beeped, and Matt took his bowl out. "Did Anderson ever bring you that forensic report?" he asked, changing the subject.
Opening her mouth to reply, JJ paused when she saw their Unit Chief exiting his office with a firm expression. Something was wrong. She glanced at the windows of the office, catching a glimpse of Rossi inside.
"Cara..."
Cara turned her head at the sound of her name, looking in the direction of Hotch's office with curious eyes. However, the innocent countenance disappeared when she saw how rigid his posture was. It was more rigid than usual.
At that moment, Cara Valentine's walls and world crumbled to the ground. Her face morphed into a blank slate, and her skin tone faded to a shade lighter. No other words needed to be spoken. All it took was his stance for her to know why he'd called her.
It was the Founding Fathers.
Immediately, she released Spencer's hand and hopped off Tara's desk. She left her book behind and maneuvered around all the furniture, disregarding the team's perplexed stares. There was an urgency in the way she moved, and she raced up the stairs and followed Hotch into his office.
Once she entered and closed the door behind her, she noticed Rossi's presence. Goddammit. "Either this is bad or really bad. So, which is it?" she breathed, wanting to skip the part where they tried to coddle her and beat around the bush.
Hotch rolled his shoulders back, standing by his desk. There was no way she was going to allow them to baby her. Not when she suspected this wasn't going to be a good conversation.
"There's been a development in the case." He didn't have to say what case he was referring to. They all knew. "Cara, I believe it'd be best if you sat down."
"Why?" Cara choked out, briefly meeting Rossi's remorseful eyes.
"Figlia mia, please," Rossi insisted, gently patting the empty chair next to him.
Without a word, silently giving in, she took the seat beside the Italian man. It wasn't until they were all seated that she spoke again. "What happened?" Her eyes bounced between the men, waiting for someone to answer. She wasn't a fan of the tense atmosphere engulfing them.
Hotch folded his hands on the desk, perturbed by what he was about to tell her. Part of him didn't want to, but she needed to know. She deserved to know. This was going to affect her and she would find out soon. It would have been better if she heard it from them first before the team did.
"Matthew Johnston is dead."
It was blunt and to the point, but there was no other way to put it.
The revelation caused every nerve in her body to freeze, and fear snaked its way into her system. "What?" Cara deadpanned, her mouth suddenly as dry as sand.
Rossi caught the regret that quickly washed over the Unit Chief's face. "On Tuesday morning, investigators discovered a burning vehicle on Whiteshield Crescent at the Bellevue. The abandoned apartment complex you were arrested at in twenty-thirteen," he added, taking the reigns for a moment.
Eyebrows dropping, the blonde darted her line of sight between the two again. There were no signs that they were lying to her.
Great. That's great.
"After firefighters arrived and put out the fire, investigators found a body inside the car. The medical examiner identified the remains of the corpse through dental records yesterday. It's Johnston."
"Marvinhill just called," Hotch cleared his throat, re-entering the conversation. "He wanted to give us a heads up and asked if we could be on standby if anything else happens."
Blinking, Cara averted her attention to the carpeted floor. She didn't know how to process this information or what to think.
Rossi and Hotch exchanged dreadful glances, having a silent conversation with only eye movements and facial expressions. Neither wanted to be the bearer of what was coming next, but somebody had to tell her. Finally, Rossi sighed, giving in.
"Officers only discovered the fire due to a nine-one-one call. The caller gave the police the location of the burning vehicle and stated that he had killed "them." No one knows who "them" is, but Johnston was confirmed to be the caller's victim."
Flashing her stare upward, Cara was visibly confused. "Okay..." she trailed off, waiting for them to spit out whatever else was left.
Hotch's chin upturned. "The car fire has been reported in the news. However, it has not been revealed who the victim inside was. Police aren't releasing the confirmed identity of Matthew Johnston."
This caused Cara to pause. "Why not?" There was a tiny voice in her head telling her that she already knew why, but she wasn't positive. Frankly, she didn't want to be right.
"Because Michael Le was the one who called it in."
She was right.
As if stuck underwater, everything was dragging and warbling as the dark-haired men sat there. They both wore uneasy expressions and were waiting for her to say something, even though they knew she likely wouldn't utter a word. Cara's face had fallen, and she was as pale as chalk, sitting there, frozen to the spot.
"Le self-identified and his voice was confirmed as a match. He took responsibility and confessed to Johnston's demise."
Just like when she'd been told that Joseph Arthur and Kirk Farell were murdered in prison, Cara couldn't decipher her feelings. She knew for a fact, though, that she wasn't feeling relieved or happy. Rather something more chilling.
Her thoughts were flying by in a whirl of red, blue, and purple— the colors of every injury she received from the Founding Fathers. And all she could focus on was the last thing Le had ever said to her.
"So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear. Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost; evil, be thou my good. Dear Clementine, needn't you worry. We'll reunite when the time is right."
Audibly inhaling sharply, Cara's shoulders heaved up and she felt her lungs constrict. Shakily exhaling, she reached for her wrist and drove the pad of her thumb into it. The action didn't make her feel better, but it was habitual.
"Figlia mia?" Rossi asked softly, frowning.
An eerie silence answered him and neither man liked it. There was a faraway look in her deep blue eyes and she didn't blink. She was almost unresponsive.
"Cara?" Hotch sat up at her countenance.
Taking into account her withdrawn response, Rossi knew she was having either a flashback or unintentionally dissociating. Normally, they waited for her to come back to them as she fought her way out of whatever she was experiencing. Normally, they didn't attempt to talk to her further than they already had because a panic attack could ensue. Presently, Rossi didn't go with the norm. Instead, he called her name again.
"Cara? Can you say something?"
The question managed to break through and she blinked.
However, it appeared as if his voice went in one ear and out the other. Confusion drew at her lips and eyebrows. "W-What?" her voice was wobbling and she was a tad disoriented. Tears were welling in her eyes.
Rossi placed a hand on her arm, steadying her. Cara's lack of focus and obvious disorientation from the way she was lightly swaying side-to-side was troubling. It reminded him of the condition she'd been in toward the end of the interrogation last weekend. It crushed him to see her in any type of pain.
"Figlia mia, deep breaths, yeah?" Rossi raised an eyebrow and gave her an encouraging smile. "You're with Aaron and I. You're safe, all right?"
Blinking, she didn't say anything. She couldn't say anything. This had severely taken her off-guard. It wasn't necessarily bad news, but it certainly wasn't good. Yes, one of her demons was physically dead, but the repercussions of his death would be detrimental. After all, Le was the one who called it in.
Little did any of them know, the trio wouldn't be given any time to digest this. There was another surprise in store for them.
"HOTCH!" Luke shouted in the bullpen, his voice echoing throughout the space. Silently, he cursed himself for raising his voice— he knew it was one of Valentine's stressors, but this was urgent. "ROSSI!"
At the sudden yelling, Cara almost jumped and instinctually curled her fingers into fists. A tear fell loose and trailed down her flushed cheeks. Her heart rate temporarily spiked, and her shoulders tensed.
"This better be a life or death situation for him to shout like that," Rossi grumbled under his breath, making a mental note to pull Luke to the side later.
Hotch reluctantly rose from his chair at the same time as the older man. "Cara, you all right?" he asked, raising an eyebrow while he rounded his desk. He'd caught the short-haired woman's reaction and knew she was still rattled. The news of Johnston's death in combination with shouting wasn't helping calm her down.
Blinking, she wiped away the tears and joined him. Rossi had already left the office. "Not really," she answered honestly, nodding at Hotch when he let her exit first.
"It's going to be okay. You're safe," he said, briefly placing a hand on the small of her back as they walked out together. "We've got safety plans, remember?"
Cara inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly. "Yes. We do. I remember," she confirmed, meeting his soft and concerned gaze. It was taking a lot to keep herself together.
Right as he went to reply, Rossi called, "Alvez..." His tone was one of warning and caution. One too many people were shouting today.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Valentine," Luke hastily apologized to the blonde. Cara turned her attention to him and nodded slightly. She, Rossi, and Hotch came to a stop. "You guys need to see this," he insisted, gesturing to the TV.
"Breaking news coming to you early this Thursday morning!"
Cara's eyes darted to the TV that was nailed to the exterior wall of the circular conference room. Without her glasses on and no contacts in, she could only make out the image of a dark-skinned male reporter. He was standing in what seemed to be the woods with snow falling. On the television, the headlines were blurry and illegible, leaving her in the dark as to what was going on.
Goddamn her nearsightedness. She should have known not to leave her glasses in her car.
She swept her watery gaze across the bullpen, hoping someone's face would give away whether this was good or bad news being delivered. However, every agent in the space was staring at the TV with unreadable expressions. Their backs were to her so she couldn't gauge anyone's bodily reactions— including the team's.
So, she turned to Hotch and Rossi. Both of their countenances were a mix of unease and astoundment. The presence of either of those did nothing to soothe her rising anxiety.
All she knew was that the reporter's usage of the word "early" indicated that this was being aired outside of Virginia. It was a quarter past noon, now. Wherever this originated, there was a notable time difference.
"A founding member of the Red Scorpion gang, based and formed in British Columbia, was murdered in what's believed to be a targeted killing in Kamloops, B.C. on Tuesday. Konaam Shirzad, 44, was discovered yesterday off River's Trail at Riverside Park at 7:20 p.m., according to the RCMP. Kamloops RCMP Staff Sergeant Simon Pillay said the man is known to the police."
Cara's heart stopped and her breath hitched. All color drained from her face again and she felt like she would be sick. All the remaining tears evaporated. Her knees almost gave out from under her and she gripped the metal bars that lined the second level of the bullpen. She held on like her life depended on it.
First, Johnston. Now, it was Shirzad. They both unexpectedly dropped like flies, leaving the true mastermind standing.
"Konaam Shirzad and his associates played a very significant role in the local trade here in Kamloops and British Columbia as a whole. They were heavily speculated to have ties to drug trafficking arrangements in the United States. In 2013, a major arrest of an unknown high-ranking member of the gang took place and the gang is speculated to have disbanded since."
All attention briefly darted to the short-haired woman and her frozen frame. Every agent in the room knew that the high-ranking member being referenced was Cara Valentine.
"During that same time, it was reported that Quang Vinh Thang Le, largely known as Michael Le, Matthew Johnston, Konaam Shirzad, and Person Y were killed in prison with Person X escaping. All men were sentenced for charges related to their involvement in the tragedy of the Surrey Six killings in 2007. Updates regarding the Red Scorpions and its members have not been shared until today."
For the love of God, please don't mention Cara's name. That was the common thought among everyone.
It was well-known that the details of Cara's disappearance and rescue had not been officially documented or made public information. It wasn't publicly reported. It helped that she technically didn't exist either due to little to no documentation on her in the first place. The U.S. and Canadian governments kept everything under wraps. That went as far as not digitally documenting the events, developments, and evidence related to the case. Nothing about the Founding Fathers, her disappearance, and her rescue was online or on any server. Numerous physical copies of documents and reports were dispersed between all agencies involved and stored in safe, classified locations. It would stay that way until the Founding Fathers were caught.
"Despite official reports stating the founders were dead, this is no longer the case. According to RCMP Commissioner Philip Deschenes—"
"Who the fuck is that?" Rossi muttered, glancing at Hotch with a raised eyebrow. Hotch merely shrugged. The name wasn't familiar.
"—the men faked their deaths and escaped from prison with Person X. All of the details are not released, but Deschenes stated that Person X and Person Y were confirmed to be dead in 2016. Konaam Shirzad is just the latest to join them. As of now, Matthew Johnston and Michael Le are alive, but their whereabouts are unknown."
The Unit Chief pressed his lips together. "We know who them is now," he mumbled to Rossi, keeping his voice low enough that Cara couldn't hear him. He was referring to Le's phone call and the confession of how he'd killed 'them.'
Normally, the Italian man would've snorted at the comment, but he knew better. This wasn't the time nor the place.
"The RCMP are asking anyone with information about Shirzad's murder to call (250) 828-3000 or CrimeStoppers to remain anonymous. Back to you, Cheryl."
Penelope muted the TV and pivoted to face the rest of the team. There were tears in her eyes and she didn't have the slightest clue as to how to react. Her mind was blank and she'd forgotten how to talk. Every word she ever knew was out of reach.
The other agents in the room returned to their seats, unsure of how to react and keeping quiet.
Blinking rapidly, Tara looked to the team. "Did we all just watch the same thing?" If she was a little disoriented at the news, she couldn't imagine how Cara felt.
"If you're talking about Konaam Shirzad being dead, then yes. We did," JJ breathed, running her hands through her wavy blonde hair. Worry lines were carved into her forehead and her heart rate had spiked.
"I believe so," Matt added, folding his arms over his chest.
Luke wet his lips and shook his head. "Do we believe it?" he asked skeptically, sweeping his eyes across his colleagues and Cara. "Do we believe that he's actually dead?"
The news of Konaam Shirzad's death was almost too good to be true for some. For others, it was the worst thing they'd heard since last Saturday's interrogation. If he was dead, that meant Michael Le and Matthew Johnston's inevitable return was nearing. It also meant that Cara Valentine was going to be targeted. They would come for her again.
"Yes, we do," Hotch replied, staring at the screen of his phone that he'd retrieved from his pocket. He wore a firm and solemn expression. "Marvinhill just messaged me. Shirzad's dead."
Two down, one to go.
Penelope gasped. "Oh good God," she muttered, collapsing in the chair at Luke's desk. Her ability to speak returned, and she placed a hand on her chest.
"Everyone, pack your bags. Wheels up in two hours." Hotch ordered, scrolling through his contact list. Two hours would be enough time for Cara to get packed and for them to gather everything they needed.
The team watched as the Unit Chief began to text someone while Rossi brought his phone to his ear. Both of them were on the same train of thought and were contacting two separate parties. If they were returning to Canada to finish this, hopefully, once and for all, they needed the whole team.
"We're going back to Canada... aren't we?" Penelope asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.
Spencer, JJ, Luke, Tara, and Matt's attention was trained on Cara Valentine and her frozen figure. Her hands were still holding onto the bars of the railing, knuckles white. Her posture was rigid and her jaw was set. Her eyes were wide, but not with fear— with dread. From where they were at their desks, they could scarcely see her legs shaking.
The day she'd been subconsciously waiting for was finally here and she wasn't prepared in the way she wished she was. Not in the slightest. However, that didn't matter. She had to be ready regardless. This was happening with or without her voluntary approval.
"Yes, we are. You're coming with," Hotch informed the analyst, not glancing up from the illuminated phone screen. "I need you to make contact with the RCMP and alert the Kamloops PD that members of the F.B.I.'s BAU team will be arriving in the morning. The same applies to the Vancouver PD. I've notified Morgan."
Penelope's eyebrows bunched together. "M-Morgan?" It wasn't that she wasn't excited to hear Derek Morgan's name, 'cause she was, but she remained confused. The news of Konaam Shirzad's death shook her more than it should have.
"Vancouver?" JJ echoed, eyebrows drawing in. Why would they be going to Vancouver, too? Shirzad's death took place in Kamloops. The two locations were nearly three and a half hours apart.
"Yes. That's where Johnston was killed." Hotch answered monotonously.
Everyone did a double-take, not expecting another curveball to be thrown their way that quickly. Now, they knew why Cara, Hotch, and Rossi were meeting privately. The men were trying to break the news delicately before informing the rest of the team.
"I'm sorry?" Luke cleared his throat, slightly raising a hand.
Tara's jaw dropped, and Matt and JJ's eyes widened significantly. Penelope gasped.
Spencer snapped his gaze away from Cara's fixed figure. "Johnston's dead?" he asked; his voice raised an octave and he wasn't sure he'd heard the Unit Chief correctly.
"Yes. He's dead. I'll notify Cruz. Rossi, take Cara home and pack a go-bag." Hotch instructed the Italian man, meeting his grave stare. He nodded. "We'll be leaving in two separate jets. Morgan, Reid, Cara, and I will be flying to Kamloops to check out the crime scene and speak to the local PD and the RCMP. JJ, you, Tara, and Alvez will go to the abandoned apartment complex where Johnston was killed in Vancouver. Blake will likely meet you there. Rossi, Garcia, and Simmons, I want you to meet with Captain Marvinhill at the Vancouver precinct. Let's get ready."
𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆 ─── ❪ CRIMINAL MINDS ❫
act two: 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚂, ²
╱ ✹ ▬▬ ❛ © CARDIIAC 2023. ❜
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𓄹 ━━━ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓! ࿐ ໋₊ ˖
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Figlia mia ━━ My daughter
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hey everyone!! i hope you all enjoyed the fifty-sixth chapter!
one minute of cara + spencer being happy and falling in love = le rollin' up his sleeves, crackin' his knuckles, and deciding it's time for his triumphant return, and to fuck shit up
also... morgan and blake returning makes me so happy. i love them.
this chapter is so cutesy to me! i hope everyone enjoyed the tiny pieces of happiness sprinkled in there. that's all you're gonna get until the epilogue, i'm afraid. (KIDDINGGGGG... kind of.)
good news, though: konaam shirzad and matthew johnston are dead as shit, leaving michael le as the remaining founding father. i know, i know it happened "off-screen" but what is coming will make up for it.
i am so excited for these final chapters and for this story to finally come to a close! i've got a few twists here and there that i can't wait to see people's reactions to. i hope someone is excited!
LASTLY, I NEED PEOPLE'S OPINIONS: this is a bit of a spoiler, but i originally had the spara smut scene taking place in chapter 58. however, in the comments of the previous chapter, people mentioned wanting it to happen much later on in the story (preferably in the epilogue). in the epilogue, there is a five-year time jump that will be taking place post-season 16, aka happening in 2023. at this point in cara and spencer's relationship, they would have had sex, and i wanted their smut scene to be the first time they ever had sex. it's an important part of cara's character arc and development. not to mention, i want it to be special for all of you as well who have stuck by this story for so long.
in all transparency, chapter 58 takes place on march 3rd, 2018, aka in two days. five days have already passed between this chapter and the last. one of the reasons why i have it happen so soon is because the last four chapters of this book take place from march 1st, 2018 ━━ march 5th, 2018. it's a very fast-paced and intense journey all of the characters go on (shoutout to michael le lmao hate you the most, bastard). similar to how fast chapters 42 to 45 happened.
during this chunk of time, a lot happens and a lot is revealed. there are moments between the chaos that help balance it out and the smut scene is one of those. i understand it's insanely soon and quite rushed, it feels that way to me a little bit, too. however, it also feels earned for cara and spencer in some respects. but, i want to know what all of you think! your opinions and thoughts are very important to me, and i want everyone to enjoy it and not question the validity of the characters' decisions.
so, do you want the smut scene still taking place in chapter 58 or the epilogue? (the epilogue is halfway finished, but i can find a place where it makes sense. i want it to be a special moment between cara and spencer, though. chapter 58 is the only one where there is time and space to breathe for the characters. chapter 57 is way too fucking soon, holy hell, no. chapter 59... well, it's uh... it's a heavy one! and chapter 60 is the big finale, obvi.)
please, any and everyone, let me know your thoughts!
new graphics ━━ got bored and procrastinated on this chapter so i made these:
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meme time ━━ i am a whore for caralyn rosan valentine.
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˒⠀𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹. . . ▬⠀⤸
Thank you all for taking the time out of your day to comment on this story. It means a lot and helps the story be spread to a broader audience &&& allows me to grow as an author. All I ask is that people vote on each chapter, please. As a creator, it takes time to write and develop stories. Especially ones such as this that take a while to write and dedicate time to. So please, vote on every chapter. It means a lot more than I could ever express.
Don't forget to vote & comment!
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˒⠀𝑪𝑶𝑷𝒀𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻. . . ▬⠀⤸
❝ All Rights Reserved.
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