Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In which the team gets a new case in Cambridge, MA, a body is found and yet another person goes missing.

The team were all sat in the round table room. Garcia came in with a couple of files, passing one to Reid as everyone else looked at the case files on their tablets.

"Last night, Cambridge Police found an arm and a leg which they believe to belong to missing student Lucy Gable." Garcia clicked a button and pictures of the limbs as well as a photo of the girl appeared on the screen. "Lucy was twenty-two year old and went missing a month ago. There are five other missing persons who vanished under similar circumstances to Lucy." Their pictures appear on the screen. "The disappearances started eight months ago, and the most recent vanished only last week. The case was passed on to the Massachusetts' State Troopers, who have called us in."

"No one put these disappearances together sooner?" JJ asked.

"They'd been tentatively linked," Hotch explained. "Now that we have a confirmed death, the Troopers would like this contained before mass panic spreads to the colleges."

"Do we have a time of death?" Reid said.

"The M.E. is currently attempting to tie that down but preliminary examination at the scene indicates about a week," Garcia replied.

"The real question though," Rossi started, "is where is the rest of her?"

"Wheels up in twenty," Hotch added.

The team all got up, gathered their things and moved to go and get their go-bags, making sure there wasn't anything outstanding on their desks.

Reid neatened up the stack of files, putting what was finished in his outbox and the rest into the drawer. He washed up his mug from his morning cup of coffee, whilst Emily quickly finished off the coffee pot, then went out to the corridor to make a call.

"Spencer?"

"Hey Zack," Reid replied. Zack had obviously seen the caller id. "We've got a case in Cambridge, disarticulated female remains have been found."

"Any idea how-" Zack started rapidly, before reigning himself in. "Do you know how long you'll be gone?" He finished more calmly.

"Not a clue, sorry. There are missing person cases that the locals think might be connected and if they are we've got a trail of bodies to find," Reid answered. JJ came out the BAU bullpen at that moment, clutching her go bag and calling the elevator. "Look after yourself, alright?" he said, as he nodded to JJ.

"Only if you do," Zack replied. "I mean it Spencer, please be careful."

"I always am," Reid said. "I'll call you later."

"Goodbye." Zack reluctantly hung up the phone. There was no guarantee of anything on a BAU case.

-x-

The flight over was relatively short. The case currently was as much as a bafflement to them as it was to the Massachusetts' State Troopers. They couldn't find much consistency within the victimology; four women, two men, five white, one mixed race, ranging in age from 18-30. All were affiliated with colleges in the area, but considering the local demographics, that was hardly unusual.

"Could he have taken the latest victim," Morgan looked down at his tablet to get her name, "Alex Craven, to replace Lucy?"

"It's possible," Rossi agreed.

"Without time of death on any of the other victims it's difficult to tell," Emily said.

"Do we even know if the others are dead?" JJ asked.

"It's unlikely that the unsub would have kept them alive, trying to hide five college aged students in a city as densely populated as Cambridge would have been difficult," Reid suggested. "The state of Lucy's remains indicates he doesn't take any care with his victims."

"Do we know if she was dismembered pre or post mortem?" Emily asked.

Reid looked back at the photos. "It's difficult to tell, the M.E. can probably say definitively, but I'd say post."

"He's not a sadist. Whatever he's doing with his victims, it's something else," Hotch added.

It was decided that Reid and Rossi would go to the M.E., that Morgan and Prentiss would check out the crime scene, and Hotch and JJ would go down to the station, where maybe the locals could shed some light on victimology.

-x-

Reid and Rossi stood in the Medical Examiners office. What little of Lucy Gable's body they had was covered by a white sheet. Reid was flipping through the report whilst Rossi peered under the sheet.

"You've revised the time of death," Reid queried.

"Yes," the medical examiner replied, slightly exasperated. They were obviously not used to FBI agents barging into their lab. "Her body was frozen making it difficult to identify a time of death accurately. My best approximation would be around four weeks ago, but it could be a week either way."

"So she died soon after she was missing," Rossi commented, laying the sheet down over the body again. "There goes the theory about the unsub taking each new victim as a replacement."

"Hmm," Reid agreed, looking at the report again, trying to find something which would help them give a profile. "Why was the original approximation a week?" He asked.

"Her body was unfrozen a week ago. Or these parts were at least."

"Was her body disarticulated before she was frozen?" Rossi asked.

"Impossible to tell," came the reply.

"These are defensive wounds." Reid lifted the sheet and pointed to a bruise which had developed on her arm, as well as a couple of scratches on her fingers. "And ligature marks on both her wrists and ankles. She was restrained."

"She received that bruise approximately twelve hours before she died," the medical examiner added, looking at their notes this time.

"Which means the unsub held her for at least twelve hours before killing her," Rossi said. "Is there a cause of death?"

"Not yet. I'm running toxicology, but not expecting anything. Your guess is as good as mine."

-x-

Morgan and Emily didn't have much more luck at the crime scene. They were met by the Massachusetts' State Trooper who had been assigned to the case, a Detective James Mandridge, as well as the police officers who had discovered the body.

They both ducked under the yellow crime scene tape to look at the scene. There wasn't much going on. The space was open, not ideal to dump a body but perfectly adequate.

Morgan held his tablet, flicking through the photos Garcia had sent earlier. "So you found her over there," Emily said, pointing to the crime-scene markers on the ground.

"Yes," one of the police officers answered.

Morgan and Emily both looked over at the garbage bins which lined the other side of the road, a couple of metres down. Morgan looked back at Emily; they were both wondering the same thing. "Why not the bins?" Morgan asked.

"You have searched them?" Emily asked.

"Of course," the other police officer answered. "Nothing out of the ordinary, no identification, nothing of Lucy Gable's."

"And you're sure it's her?"

"Tattoo on her arm and there was the bracelet her roommate confirmed she was wearing when she went missing," Mandridge said.

"So why?" Morgan asked. "There's no attempt to hide the body. She was easily identifiable even though we only have pieces of her. Why dump her here?"

"There's not much traffic around, but you couldn't guarantee it being quiet," Mandridge said. "Even at that time of night, it would be risky."

"There's no care, no attempt at forensic counter measures," Emily commented. "It's completely out of character for an unsub who has previously managed to hide his disposal sites."

"So what caused a change in his behaviour?" Morgan asked, as he looked around.

-x-

JJ and Hotch set up shop in the local police station. The locals had done an fair job of piecing together evidence boards and had gathered as much information on each of the missing persons as they could.

However, that didn't mean they were getting anywhere. Apart from a preference towards younger victims (but not underage, which would have almost been easier to understand), there wasn't much there. They had Garcia running down frequent haunts, wondering if any of them had crossed paths. If they could find a common location between them it might indicate that the victims were specially chosen, since at the moment they all seemed to be victims of opportunity.

Emily and Morgan were first back, but the little they'd found at the crime scene didn't really add to the profile.

"You guys got anything?" JJ asked as Reid and Rossi walked into the station.

"The victim was frozen after she died," Reid said.

The profilers looked around at each other, while Detective Mandridge looked puzzled. "What's the significance?" he asked.

"Freezing the victims usually indicates a desire to preserve them," Hotch started.

"But given the nature of the disposal site and the state of the remains, it is unlikely that we're looking for an unsub concerned with preserving their beauty or youth," Morgan added.

"We have seen this before though," Reid said as he thought back to an old case. "In Florida, when a cannibal froze his victims to preserve their flesh longer."

"But there aren't any signs of cannibalism on the body," JJ said.

"This is true," Reid replied. "But we barely have half of that body. We have no idea what happened to the rest of her."

"There are five other victims who we have found no trace of either," Rossi added. "The M.E. believes that she was restrained by the unsub for at least twelve hours before she died. But given that her time of death lines up with approximately when she went missing, I don't think she was held for much longer."

"Which means Alex Craven is probably dead," Emily said.

"Privately, I agree," Hotch said. "But I think we should operate on the assumption that she may still be alive, especially to the press."

The profilers all nodded.

-x-

The BAU stopped momentarily to put a coffee pot on, before diving back into victimology. If they could find a connection, it would bring them one step closer to solving the case. And given how well it was going, a break was sorely needed.

Luckily, they were all rewarded with a call from Garcia.

"I've got one thing, which is that Lucy Gable and Victor Morales both frequented the same coffee shop," Garcia said, in her usual chipper tone. Victor had been the third missing person. "But it's fairly popular amongst the student crowd, if it was a hunting ground I think we'd see a lot more missing college students.

"I'm still running down their credit cards, but none of them share classes, friendship groups, anything. The moment I know anything you will, my fine friends."

"Thanks Baby Girl," Morgan said. He moved to hang up on Garcia, but Reid got there first.

"Wait," Reid said. "I think I've got something." He put down the file he was reading and spread the papers across the table. "All of them are the children of single mothers."

"What significance could that possibly have?" Poor Mandridge was very clearly out of his depth.

"Maybe the unsub identifies with them?" JJ suggested.

"Or is righting some perceived wrong in a mother-child relationship?" Prentiss said.

Reid stayed silent, remembering another case where the victims had all been the children of single mothers. He looked up, and found Hotch watching him. "If he's picking them specifically for these qualities, it means the victims aren't as random as we thought," Rossi said, saving Reid from the awkward question. "He could be stalking them."

"They aren't victims of opportunity," Morgan said. "He's picking them specifically, so he must be finding them somewhere."

"We find the link, we find the unsub," Hotch said.

-x-

"Lucy Gable's roommate said she'd recently been referred to the university counselling services," Morgan said, as he came back into the room from an interview. The family and friends of the six missing people had begun descending on the station.

"Ellie Sparks's parents said a similar thing; her mother remembers a prescription coming through on their insurance for anti-depressants. They had no idea that she was in therapy, but it's likely she was," Emily said.

"The first victim, Madeline Agrassi had just finished a stint of therapy, it's in the missing person report file, her friends said she was getting her life back on track," Reid said as he remembered what he had read earlier.

"That's three out of six, should we be looking to see if the others were also seeking help perhaps under the radar?" JJ asked.

"I'll speak to Garcia, see if she can find anything along those lines," Morgan said, and got up to make that call.

Det. Mandridge, who also was sitting round the table, looked up from the file he was reading. "What does them being in therapy have to do with their disappearances?"

"It might explain how the unsub is finding his victims. If they are undergoing counselling they are likely more vulnerable, easier to target," Rossi said.

"We may have another victim." The agents all turned to look at Hotch, who had just entered the room. "Joseph Lewis, a PhD student at Harvard was just reported missing after he missed two teaching classes this morning. His supervisor says this was uncharacteristic behaviour, and his roommate confirmed he hasn't been seen since last night."

"Do we know where he was last seen?" Reid asked.

"The roommate saw him leave their apartment at 10:00, says he was heading to campus. We've yet to confirm if he got there," Hotch replied. "Emily, Rossi, interview the roommate, investigate his room. JJ, with me, we'll go to the campus and talk to the supervisor. Reid, can you start a geographic profile?"

"Of course," was Reid's reply, and he stood up and went to find a map.

"I'll take Detective Mandridge and see if we can find an abduction site between campus and the apartment." Morgan, who was just off the phone with Garcia, signalled to the detective, who quickly got up. Reid was left behind, happy with his sharpie and map, pouring over the geographical data.

-x-

"Professor Denison, can you think of anyone who would want to target Mr. Lewis?" Hotch asked.

The older woman, who looked quite frail behind her desk, shook her head. "No, I can't. Some of our students are very competitive, but Joseph's work was so specialised he didn't have much in the way of competition. I've never had a single complaint about his teaching."

"What about his mental health?" JJ asked, remembering the common link between all the victims they'd found earlier. "Was there any concern there?"

Professor Denison considered this for a moment. "Now that you mention it, I believe he mentioned that he was seeking help for a long standing anxiety problem. It had never affected his work here though, so I didn't pay much attention. We may have a record of it somewhere."

"We'll have someone double check," JJ said. "Did you notice him display any odd behaviour in the last few weeks?"

"Not at all," she said.

"We'll need to take a look at his workplace," Hotch said.

"Of course, it's just down the hall," she replied.

"If you can remember anything else, please don't hesitate to contact us," Hotch said, handing her a card. He and JJ stepped outside.

"That's four out of the seven victims linked," JJ said. "Garcia's still running down the others."

"We still need to see if there is anyone who has links to all the treatment facilities," Hotch said. "Have we confirmed if all of the students were referred to the same facility?"

"No," JJ said. "We don't know where they were referred. We need their medical records opened."

"A judge may grant us just cause; it could help us find Joseph Lewis." JJ nodded as Hotch went to make the call.

-x-

"This is the route he'd most likely have taken?" Morgan looked to the local detective, and then up and down the street.

"Any other way would be longer, and out of his way," Mandridge replied. "The roommate said this was the route that they usually walked to campus together."

Morgan glanced up and down the street. They'd walked the entire way from the apartment where Lewis lived to campus, and there was nowhere obvious to make an abduction. "Even at night, there's not much cover. I imagine quite a lot of students are still on the streets?"

"Everyone walks pretty much everywhere here," was the reply. "It wouldn't be empty."

"So the unsub somehow manages to take our victim without anyone noticing," Morgan said. "Which either means he's socially competent, or is very experienced in it."

Mandridge noticed the doubt in Morgan's voice. "So if he's socially competent he'd be able to lure them off the street with no problem?"

Morgan nodded. "Only that doesn't line up with the defensive wounds found on Lucy Gable. None of the victims engage in high-risk behaviour, which would make them easier to abduct."

"Could Gable just have been a fluke?"

"Perhaps," Morgan admitted. "It's difficult to tell what happened to her given what little we have, and we know nothing about what happened to any of the others."

Morgan spotted an alleyway, just off to the side about twenty metres down the street. He walked towards it, wondering if there was anything there; it was much more covered than the rest of the street. He'd favour it as an unsub.

Mandridge followed him.

"If I waited here, there would be more of an element of surprise," Morgan said. "There's just enough space to park, and you wouldn't notice a car unless you were looking for it."

"Someone would still hear the noise of someone being pushed into a car though," Mandridge replied.

"Students are known for being oblivious," Morgan replied. He walked over, looking at a garbage can located in the alleyway. "Hey Mandridge, help me move this thing will you?"

Mandridge obliged. He wasn't prepared for the horrible squelch sound which followed. He looked down to see what it was. "Oh god."

Morgan grimaced, and pulled out his phone. "Hotch, I think you ought to see this." Mandridge was still in shock.

"I think we might have found one of the earlier victims."

Chapter Text

In which Reid attempts to complete a geographic profile, Hotch gets woken up in the middle of the night, Zack has more nightmares and they find something they really didn't expect.

"Reid, are you getting anywhere?" Hotch asked as he and JJ swept back into the conference room.

"I think he resides somewhere in Area Four or Cambridge Port, as they're between MIT and Harvard and would provide the most access to students," Reid said. "The abductions occur outside these areas, he's intentionally not drawing attention to where he lives. Both of those areas are highly residential, I don't know how he's not being noticed."

"We've got another site for you, Morgan and Mandridge found some body parts," Hotch said, handing Reid the address.

"Do we know whose?" Reid replied as he took the address, found a pin and placed it into the map.

"Not yet. Preliminary report is male, the body's been there at least twenty-four hours," JJ said. "We've got a hand and part of a leg, so we might get lucky with fingerprints."

"Possibly," Reid said as he studied the map again. "This dump site fits within the established pattern."

"That's good," Hotch replied.

The phone rang. Hotch directed it to speaker as he answered and Garcia's voice came out clear across the room.

"Sir, you were right, all of the victims had been referred to counselling shortly before their disappearances," she said.

"Were they referred to the same facility?"

"No," she replied. "But a lot of the university counselling services take on a lot of temps and trainee students depending on demand. There may be someone who worked at all of them or had access to the files."

"I want a list of anyone who could have accessed them, and as quickly as you can Garcia."

"You shall have it as quick as my servers can get it," she replied, and clicked off.

"That has to be how he's finding them, right?" JJ looked at her two colleagues for their input.

"We haven't found anything else yet," Reid said.

The BAU had gathered back in the conference room, everyone sitting round the table as Rossi spoke. Detective Mandridge stood off at the side, observing the proceedings. "The M.E confirmed that the body had been dumped within the last twenty-four hours. It was frozen, same as Lucy Gable which is making time of death difficult, but the estimate is within two months," Rossi said. "Fingerprints are running through the system at the moment but we can assume that this is Victor Morales."

"So the unsub manages to hide, freeze or dispose of the bodies for seven months and now they've just started leaving them about in public view? None of them have been well hidden," JJ said.

Everyone paused for a minute to look round at each other. "He's clearly devolving," Emily said. "There's less time between each of the kills, he's becoming less careful."

"He's becoming more dangerous," Morgan said. "If he's devolving, he may not stick to hunted victims, he might just start grabbing people at random. We should put the local students on high alert. You never know, they might start spotting him."

"How on earth is he managing to grab them without anyone noticing?" Mandridge asked; he'd been wondering since he'd received the case files that morning.

"He must appear non-threatening," Hotch said. "We know the victims are restrained, it's quite possible he drugged them. Whatever he used might have flushed through their systems before they died, which is why it's not showing up in the tox screen."

Reid didn't look convinced. "These are all vulnerable, intelligent people though. None of them are willingly going to approach someone who they don't know."

"Maybe they do know him," Morgan said. "If the unsub is finding them through the counselling service, maybe he's enough of a familiar face to them that he doesn't arouse their suspicions."

"He's been careful before," Rossi said. "Each of the abductions was carefully planned, he didn't want to leave anything to chance. He knows when they're going to be alone and no one will notice their disappearance until it is too late."

"Does anyone have any thoughts on why he's freezing the victims?" Emily asked.

"Were there any signs of cannibalism on Morales' body?" Reid asked Rossi. He shook his head.

"I asked specifically. Nothing. Doesn't mean much when we've only got such small parts though."

They all had to agree. They hadn't even found the parts to make up a whole person yet.

-x-

It was beginning to get dark, so they gave a preliminary profile out to the Cambridge police, as well as both the Harvard and MIT security staff who were responsible for policing their own campuses. No one had been abducted from a campus yet, but considering the fragile state of the unsub they weren't willing to risk it.

There wasn't much to go on. He was probably white, between the age of 25-40, average looking. Highly intelligent given that he'd managed to get away with it this long, but also possibly mentally unstable. Definitely unravelling. An unassuming person, who didn't stand out in anything. He wasn't socially incompetent, but no one would describe him as the life of the party.

The victimology though was slightly more stable than it had been earlier, given as they'd actually been able to find a link between the victims. Not that it was helping right now, seeing as how Garcia wasn't having much luck in finding anyone who could be linked to all the clinics. On the other hand, many of them had said that they had lots of people coming in and out, and at least one had said they didn't keep very good records of temp staff.

They'd decided to wait until next morning before attacking that angle. It had long passed the twelve hour mark which they assumed Lewis would have had if the unsub held to pattern. Not that they were sure of that either.

Hotch had ordered them all to get some rest; tomorrow might be longer. In all honesty, they might have to wait for another victim to be taken to find the unsub, as horrible as it was. Hotch, for once, took his own advice to heart and settled in for a good night.

Only it didn't last long. He was woken at four in the morning by his phone ringing. He grabbed it off the bedside table and answered it, the many years as BAU unit chief making him far too well accustomed to it. It was the local police, profusely apologetic, but they'd found more body parts.

Quite a few more body parts. From multiple victims. They'd originally decided to let it sit until morning, but when they kept finding piece after piece, decided that the BAU needed to be informed, and could someone come down to the crime scene straight away?

Hotch got out of bed, grabbed fresh clothes from his bag and quickly got dressed. A quick wash in the bathroom; he still had to look presentable, but at that time in the morning no one would mind if he looked a little tired.

He shut the door to his hotel room quietly. He needed to wake someone else up really, and didn't know who to choose for the unsavoury job.

He was saved from choosing by the fact he heard Reid's voice talking softly into the night. He was clearly awake. Hotch knocked softly on his door.

There was a scuffling sound, Reid rummaging for clothes and trying to keep up with his phone conversation. He opened the door with a sweater pulled quickly over his head, the buttons on his shirt mismatched in his haste.

"Sorry," was the first thing out of Hotch's mouth. "Cambridge police have just found more body parts."

Reid nodded, silently – he was still on the phone – and turned back into the room to grab his satchel. Hotch could hear his whispered goodbyes to whoever was on the phone, and Reid then stuffed the phone back into his pocket as he hung up.

The two exited the hotel quietly, trying not to wake anyone else up. They got into an SUV, Hotch driving.

"It's okay, I was awake anyway," Reid said as Hotch began to drive off. Cambridge was small, they wouldn't have far to go.

"Zack?" Hotch asked, because there is no one else who would call Reid up at that time in the morning, or who Reid would call.

"Yeah," Reid said. "He has nightmares; he had them when he first got out, and then they went away for a while, but they've come back. He's had some really bad ones in the last couple of weeks. I want to refer him to see someone but he's refusing."

That would explain the fact that Reid had occasionally come in recently with dark circles under his eyes. Hotch knew that Reid was prone to insomnia, and had simply blamed it on that – he also knew that it often sorted itself out. Still, it was a relief to hear there was a reason.

"Explain why you want to," Hotch suggested. "He listens to you, he trusts you." Hotch knew that there was a lot more to Zack's feelings for Reid than that, but he didn't know quite how Reid felt about the entire matter.

"I know why he's worried," Reid said. "He's terrified that someone'll find him crazy, that he'll be sent back."

"Have you talked to Dr. Sweets?" Hotch asked, remembering the name of Zack's old psychologist.

"No, not yet, but if it gets much worse I might have to," Reid said.

Both of them could now see the flashing sirens of police cars. Hotch pulled the SUV over, and they both got out. Det. Mandridge was there waiting for them.

"Glad you could come," he said as he took the two BAU agents into the taped off area. "Local police found the first one around two hours ago. Since then we've found eight more parts, in six different locations."

There were CSIs wandering around everywhere. Reid managed to pause to take a closer look at one of the limbs, which was cordoned off.

"That's the first one they found," Detective Mandridge supplied.

"Probably female, late teens early twenties, hasn't been exposed long," Reid said. "Most likely Alex Craven, fingerprints and DNA will confirm." He looked closely, squinting slightly. His hands were gloved, and he turned the limb over. "Hotch."

Hotch came over and knelt beside Reid. "What is it?"

"I think we might have just proved our cannibalism theory," Reid pointed to a series of indentations. "Bite marks."

"You should see the rest of them," Mandridge said. "Most are in a much worse state than that. Never seen anything like it."

-x-

Come morning, the BAU team assembled once again in the conference room, to go over the night's revelations.

Mandridge had been right. The rest of the parts were in a much worse state. If the bite marks on Craven's hand weren't enough, there were bite marks right down to the bone on others.. The M.E. was still going over the particulars, but the estimate was that there were parts from three different victims. None of them were fresh enough to be Joseph Lewis though, that was for certain.

Reid was gulping down a fairly large cup of coffee to compensate for his early morning awakening. Everyone else was picking through various bits of breakfast, avoiding looking at the photos of the crime scene.

They were just about to start discussing the impact of the confirmed cannibalism on the profile when Mandridge walked into the room brandishing a file. "We've got another one."

"He got someone last night?" Prentiss asked. Everyone had been on such high alert that honestly Emily was surprised that the unsub had managed to scatter body parts all over town, let alone grab a victim.

"Christine Murray, PhD candidate at M.I.T., pretty much exactly the same circumstances as Joseph Lewis yesterday. Boyfriend says she left campus at 10:00, when he went to pick her up this morning she wasn't there and none of her friends have seen her."

"What about everything else?" JJ enquired about the other parts of the profile.

"Mother divorced four years ago, has been raising Christine's younger siblings on her own. Christine is three-quarters of the way through a therapy program, her boyfriend confirmed that she'd been making strides."

"Garcia, we've got another one." Morgan had already pulled out his phone to make the call.

"The Massaschusetts' Troopers have already sent me her details, hot stuff," Garcia said back.

"Is there anyone she'd have seen during the course of her treatment who has links to any of the other victims?" Morgan asked.

They can all hear the flurry of Garcia's typing over the speaker phone. "Looking, looking." The typing stopped. "She was seen quite consistently by a Doctor Ward but a couple of weeks ago she had a temporary session with a Carl Maynard, who," the typing began again, "I have listed as a definite contact for four of the other victims, and possible for the rest."

"Can you tell us anything about him?" Hotch asked.

"He's been a psychology student on and off for the past six years. An only child, raised by his mother." More typing. Garcia gasped. "Who passed away seven months ago. A lot of his time out was spent looking after her."

"That could be the trigger," Morgan suggested.

"Have you got an address, Garcia?" Rossi asked.

"Yes, and it's within the good doctor's zone. Sending it to your phones now." They all heard the click as Garcia signed off.

-x-

It didn't take them very long to drive over there. They'd left Reid and Rossi at the station, just in case anything more came in.

"Emily, Morgan, take the back," Hotch said as they all strapped on their vests.

It left him, JJ and Mandridge with the front. Hotch knocked at the door and announced FBI, but there was no answer. JJ called out again, still with no response. Faced with no other choice, Hotch busted open the door.

They advanced through the house, but no one was there. Nothing seemed out the ordinary, until Hotch got to the back room and the entrance to the basement. There, the smell of rotting flesh became clear.

It was Morgan who was the closest, so Hotch gave the signal and Morgan followed. They could hear the girls checking upstairs. Mandridge wasn't far behind them.

The steps creaked, and there wasn't much light. The beams from their flashlight were bright against the darkness. At the bottom of the steps they could see the freezers where the bodies were stored. Hotch moved forward, knowing he'd have to open one. Morgan swung round to cover the corner.

Hotch was right. The freezers did have body parts in them. Fresh ones. Hotch didn't particularly want to think about who right now.

"Hotch?" came Morgan's cry.

Hotch turned around to look where Morgan was. He too saw the broken body, recognising from the missing persons' file the face of Joseph Lewis. And then another door. Hotch didn't even want to consider what was behind it.

But they had to. Carefully moving forward, avoiding the body, Hotch advanced towards the door handle. Expertly, with one hand, he quickly opened it, revealing the contents.

What was in there made him too stunned to speak. "What," Mandridge got there first, "the hell is that?"

Hotch took in the skeleton, in a position he recognised all too well.

"Morgan," Hotch said. "I think we better call Reid."

Chapter Text

In which the team hopes that what they've found isn't what it looks like, Morgan and Cam reconnect and Angela decides it's time she got out of the lab.

"Hotch," Morgan asked, taking in what stood before him. "Is that what I think it is?"

"I really hope not," Hotch replied, looking back at him. "Get Emily and JJ down here and make that call."

Morgan nodded and exited the basement.

Mandridge was still looking, confused, befuddled. "Have you seen something like this before?"

"Once," Hotch said. Mandridge wanted to ask more, but the look on Hotch's face made it clear he wasn't to be questioned.

Upstairs, Morgan was calling Reid. Seeing JJ and Emily, he said, "Hotch wants you in the basement. There's something you need to see."

Emily wanted to question, but Morgan turned away then, more concerned with his phone call than with them. She looked at JJ, but JJ just shrugged and headed in the direction Morgan had come from.

"Have you found him?" Reid asked, as he answered his phone.

"No." Morgan paused, wondering how he was going to put this to Reid. "Look, Reid, we found something in the basement. You need to see it."

"Can't you just tell me what it is, or send me a photo?" Reid asked. A couple of noises came over the line, it sounded like he was shuffling paper around or something.

"Reid, just come down here."

"Why?"

"Because we just found a skeleton half made of bone, half made of silver in the guy's basement."

Morgan was expecting silence, or an angry response from Reid at that point, but all he heard was an almighty crash, followed by a smaller one, and then.

"Morgan, what's happened?" It was Rossi.

Christ, what had Reid done? "Can you just bring Reid over here?" Morgan asked. "Is he alright?" he added as an afterthought.

"He's fine... or he will be," Rossi reconsidered. "What on earth did you tell him to make him drop like that?"

"We found a skeleton in the basement. Just like the one they found in the Gormogon case."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

-x-

Meanwhile, Emily was struggling with exactly the same reaction. From the moment she saw it, illuminated by the light of Hotch's torch, she knew they were in for trouble. JJ, who had been with the state department when the BAU worked the Gormogon case, took slightly longer to put everything together.

"Hotch, please tell me I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing," Emily said.

"I wish I could," Hotch replied. His face was stone. He had to keep his composure. Had to get to the bottom of this. There had to be a rational explanation for all of this.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Mandridge asked. The members of the BAU all ignored him.

"Rossi's bringing Reid over," Morgan said. He'd taken a couple of steps down the stairs not wanting to fully re-enter the basement.

"Good," Hotch replied. "I want his opinion before we do anything else."

"Hotch," Morgan said. The light was dim but they could all still tell he was concerned. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Hotch admitted. "Question Zack will probably be the first thing. Dig out the files. Get Dr. Brennan and her team out here."

"Reid isn't going to take well to all this," Emily said.

"You know how he is about Zack," JJ said. "We all know how Zack feels about him." The fact that Zack had fallen rather hard for Reid was now acknowledged as a widely known fact. The debate was on for whether Reid returned those feelings; JJ personally, was fairly certain he did. Whether Reid's intentions were romantic or not though, there was no denying he was fiercely protective of Zack.

"Morgan?" They all heard Reid, his voice quiet, shaky. It didn't get much better as they saw him descend the steps; he was clearly shaken. Morgan tried both to lend a hand and give him some space. It was difficult.

He ignored both the girls and Mandridge, and managed to walk straight over to Hotch. Morgan eyed Rossi, who had come in behind Reid, and raised an eyebrow in question. Rossi simply shook his head in reply. There would be time to explain later.

Reid had stopped, almost frozen in front of the skeleton. Hotch gave him a minute before prompting him. "Reid?" It was soft and gentle.

"It's identical to the one found by Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan," Reid said. His voice sounded detached. They all caught it.

Reid turned around, not wanting to look at the skeleton any more. His fists clenched, and Hotch, who was closest, could see that he was trying very hard not to break.

"Reid, we're going to have to bring him in." The rest of the BAU stayed silent, let Hotch talk. Emily saw out of the corner of her eye that Mandridge was about to speak, and promptly levelled her best glare at him. He shut up pronto.

"Of course." They all catch the break in his voice, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. "You should contact the Jeffersonian institute, I'm sure Dr. Brennan will want to come and investigate."

"We will," Hotch said. He studied Reid carefully. Sometimes the young man read like an open book, but sometimes it was very difficult to get a grip on quite what he was feeling. Unfortunately, this time was one of the latter. "How about we get out this basement?"

They were all eager to take him up on that. JJ was the one who took responsibility for shepherding Reid out, and Mandridge looked about ready to lose it with the lot of them. The remaining four BAU members hung back, talking quietly among themselves.

"This is going to get complicated." Rossi was the one to point out the obvious.

"Who on earth do we need to call?" Emily asked.

"We need Zack in for questioning. Camille Saroyan and the Jeffersonian Institute should be informed, they hold Gormogon vault items. Lance Sweets, Zack's psychologist. Caroline Julian, the prosecuting officer. We should get a forensic anthropologist out here." Hotch sighed. "Strauss should probably know as well."

"I'll handle her, Aaron," Rossi said. "And make the arrangements for Zack to be brought to headquarters."

"I can take Cam, I used to know her once," Morgan offered.

Hotch nodded in response. "Someone ought to let poor Mandridge in as well. Before he bursts."

"I can do that," Emily said, though with enough distaste that they all knew she was only doing it to help Reid.

-x-

Camille Saroyan wasn't having a great day to start with. Booth and Brennan were arguing again (okay that wasn't the right word. Brennan was being stubborn. There was a difference). There's a dead body in their lab that needs dealing with, and everyone's being slow.

She wasn't sure whether she was relieved when her phone rang. At least it would provide a distraction.

"Camille Saroyan, Jeffersonian Institute, how can I help?"

"Cam?"

Now there's a voice Cam hadn't heard for a long time.

"It's Derek Morgan."

Cam knew that Morgan worked with Reid, that he was part of the BAU. That he'd helped with the profile which had helped get Zack out. But there still wasn't any reason for him to be calling.

"What is it?" And then she thought. "Has something happened to Reid or Zack?"

"Not exactly." There's a pause, which Cam doesn't like, because it usually involves bad news, difficult news. "We're in Cambridge investigating a series of strange disappearances. We just raided the home of a suspect." Cam doesn't see why she'd be involved. "Cam, we found a silver skeleton in the guy's basement."

Cam, to her credit, held it together better than Reid did. She couldn't help but take a sharp breath in though. "Are you sure?" she managed to get out.

"Reasonably. Reid said it's a match," Morgan said. "But he's not exactly thinking straight right now, as you can guess. We could do with an expert up here. And anything you guys found that tied Gormogon to the scenes. Anything distinguishing."

"Dr. Brennan's busy on a case right now," Cam said.

"You have other people you can send though?" Morgan asked. There's some muttering on his end of the phone. "Reid says something about Wendell Bray?"

"He's one of our interns," Cam replied. "He's available, I'm sure he'd do it."

"The FBI will take him up here," Morgan said. "We're already bringing Zack in."

"Of course." Hopefully Zack won't take that too badly. "I'll get Wendell on it."

"Thanks Cam."

She put the phone down and let out a breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding. Hodgins chose that moment to walk into the office, carrying some big and slime samples that presumably were related to their case.

"Woah Cam, what just happened?" Hodgins asked, noting her startled look.

"The BAU just found a silver skeleton in a suspect's basement in Cambridge."

Hodgins very almost dropped the samples he was holding as his jaw dropped in shock.

-x-

The atmosphere back in the police conference room was tense. Reid still hadn't stopped looking shell-shocked, though JJ had got him to drink a cup of tea, which had calmed him down a bit.

"So what's happening?" Mandridge asked. Despite Prentiss's attempt at an explanation, he still didn't feel like he understood any of what was going on. Apart from the fact that the BAU had seen this before.

"We've got Agents on their way to pick Zack up," Rossi said. "Strauss wants this kept as quiet as possible for now."

"The Medico-legal lab is currently handling an investigation of their own but they're sending us Wendell Bray, who's familiar with the files." Morgan looked over at Reid. He was worried about him. It was out of character.

"The Jet's been sent back to collect them, they should be here in a couple of hours," Hotch said. "There's a BOLO out on Maynard, everyone's on high alert."

"Are we sure this isn't a copycat of some kind?" Emily broke a short silence that had settled.

"If they were doing it for attention it should have been much more overt," Morgan said. "This came out of nowhere. It's personal, private."

"How much of the details were released?"

"There were some press reports on the characteristics of Gormogon, the Jeffersonian's acquisition of the vault items and the silver skeleton were all public, as was the cannibalism," Hotch said. "We'll have to wait to compare notes with the original file to see if it all matches up. I don't know it well enough."

The four of them all look to Reid, who no doubt does know it well enough. None of them want to push him. Especially not after Rossi explained the extent of Reid's reaction to Morgan's call.

Morgan had known it had been bad, he'd heard the crashes, knew that they'd been obvious enough that Rossi had swooped into grab the phone from Reid, but didn't know that Reid had first dropped the phone, and his legs had then completely given out from under him, sending the young genius toppling into the floor.

They'd all seen, at various point, variations on the ashen face look Reid now wore, but him physically falling was something new.

-x-

JJ was quite seriously worried.

Reid wasn't speaking. It wasn't like him. Usually when he was upset, he tended to lash out angrily, using words and bafflement to deflect from what he was really feeling. This time, he wasn't.

He sat silently, drinking the cup of tea she'd made for him listening to the others discuss what was happening. And then Hotch came over, and took Reid aside. JJ hoped he'd manage to get more of a reaction.

Hotch took Reid outside, to somewhere he hoped was slightly more private than the big empty conference room. "Reid, you understand why we're doing all this, right?"

Reid's eyes met Hotch's and Hotch hated hated his job. "He doesn't have anything to do with this."

Well at least now he was speaking. "I don't believe he does. But I have to bring him in as a precaution. He might know details, he can certainly provide useful information on what we're looking for. We have no idea why Maynard started doing all this. Zack is probably our best chance of finding out."

"I don't want him involved." Now that was a bit more like Reid. Irrational whenever anyone he cared about was in danger. "Hotch, those nightmares he has, they're left over from this case. Gormogon still has a degree of control over him, he's terrified, terrified of losing himself to it again and you want to bring him into all that?"

"I don't have a choice. I don't want him to work the case, I want him around, where we can protect him, where he can answer questions if we need to ask him." Reid calmed down just slightly at that. "Reid though, you need to be thinking rationally. I need your head in this. I don't want to have to take you off it."

"Why would I need to be taken off it?"

JJ and Hotch have been going back and forth about whether Reid is aware of Zack's feelings towards him, and whether Reid returned them for the last month or so, and it was moments like these where Hotch remained convinced that Reid just didn't have a clue. The time for subtlety was gone though. "Because of the way he feels about you. Because of the way you feel about him. Your relationship has the potential to wreck this case."

Hotch could see first the look of confusion, as Reid wondered what he was on about, "But," and then the lightbulb moment when he gets it, "Oh. Of course. I understand Hotch." No denial there.

"I know this is going to be tough," Hotch said. "Just, keep focused. We'll get through it."

He contemplated saying to treat it as if it was any other case, but then he knew this team's track record when personal feelings got involved. Of course it wasn't just any other case.

-x-

It's tough, waiting, but that's all they can do. Zack was in custody, flying out to Cambridge as they thought, and Wendell Bray was with him. They couldn't do much with the crime scene until he turned up. A couple of CSI's had been in, confirmed that there was fresh blood all over the floor and what looked to be Christine Murray's mutilated remains over the basement floor, but they'd stopped there.

They were still waiting on the files on the Gormogon vault to come through to see if anything matched up there. They hadn't been looking when they'd originally entered the house, and when they left the entire team had been focused on Reid, so they hadn't looked then either.

The BOLO was out, and while they could be out canvassing, no one thought it would actually do any good. So they stayed and sat.

"Gormogon had an apprentice, right?" Morgan said, as the discussion turned that way. They were just trying to feel like they were doing something.

"Yes. Jason Harkness was the original apprentice. Gormogon himself had originally been apprenticed to Arthur Graves," Reid said.

"What about whoever actually killed the person Zack originally confessed to murdering?" Emily asked.

"There was a condition on Zack's release." Hotch suddenly remembered. "They were going to go after him for obstruction of justice and endangerment charges but Ms. Julian had him prove that whoever was the new apprentice was killed."

"Zack's original line was that Gormogon took on another apprentice after Harkness's suicide, and then killed him when he took Zack on." Reid spoke up again. "We know that that isn't true because Zack was allied with Gormogon before the apprentice was killed, as he provided the information on the lobbyist's location. After that happened, the apprentice was apparently deemed irrelevent, so Gormogon killed him."

"Did anyone ever find out who he was?" JJ asked.

"No, but we found his bones."

The BAU all turn to look at the voice of the interloper.

"One skeleton found in relation to the Gormogon case that didn't match any of the bones present in the skeleton, and matched the general description of the apprentice. I should know, I re-examined the skeleton myself."

"Wendell Bray, I presume?" Rossi put it together before anyone else did.

"Yes sir," Wendell said. "The others were just following me."

It doesn't take long for the rest of them to get there. Agent Anderson had been the poor fellow to draw the short straw and end up escorting them. Zack followed, and Reid is relieved to see he's not cuffed. And then a third person follows behind, wheeling a case.

"Angela Montenegro," she said, before any of the BAU could actually ask who she was. "I did the majority of the analysis on the vault the first time."

Everyone just nodded, apart from Reid, who is focused solely on Zack. There was that haunting, vulnerable look on his face, the one Reid hated, that he wanted to just get up and tell Zack that everything would be alright until he was happy and smiling again.

He found himself up and out of his chair and advancing towards Zack before he even knew what was happening.

Hotch caught it though. "Reid, accompany Mr. Bray to the scene. Take Rossi and Morgan with you." Hotch turned towards the other, unfamiliar presence in the room. "Ms. Montenegro, would you prefer to go with them or would your talents be put to more use here?"

"I'll go," Angela said. Even though it did mean leaving Zack alone.

"Good," Hotch replied, and gave Reid a look which clearly implied scram. Rossi and Morgan, definitely more with it, got up to take Reid and the two Jeffersonian staff out.

Hotch waited until Reid was safely out of the station before continuing. "Now Zack," he said. He hated doing this, took absolutely no pleasure in it; even though Reid would argue he sounded like it. "Care to tell us what's going on?"

Chapter Text

In which the team returns to the scene of the crime, Wendell gets down and dirty in a basement, Angela finds some candlesticks and Zack answers questions.

When the team pulled up to Maynard's house, they split up. Morgan and Angela went to explore the main portion of the house whilst Reid, Rossi and Wendell took the basement.

Wendell was used to rotting corpses and the smells and other foul things that came with it. The basement was still a shock though, with the blood all over the floor and body parts in various stages of decomposition lying around.

"Who's been in here?" Wendell asked, looking around. He could see that there had been more people traipsing through the crime-scene than he'd have liked, but he wasn't as fussed about it as Brennan would be.

"All of the BAU," Rossi said, "Detective Mandridge, a couple of CSIs – we needed to confirm if the latest missing person was amongst this mess, so we knew whether to call off the search."

"And?" Wendell queried as he surveyed the mess. There was too much flesh here for him. These bodies needed removing to the coroner's office for autopsy.

"That's her." Rossi pointed to a relatively fresh body – or at least what remained of it. Wendell went over to take a closer look.

All of her limbs were disarticulated; severed at the wrist, elbow, shoulder, knee, anything, hacked to pieces with a knife. And then other lacerations, distinctly teeth shaped – he hadn't even cooked this victim. Wendell wasn't a profiler but he was fairly certain that this was not good news. The head of a young, blond woman lay half way across the basement. Wendell knew enough about blood splatter patterns to trace it back to the body he was looking at.

His eyes looked across the room. No matter how dim the light was, he couldn't help but catch sight of the silver skeleton. He'd not known about the Gormogon case when he first worked at the Jeffersonian, but after Zack had broken out they'd had no choice but to let him in on at least the basics – which had meant Cam giving a very brief summary and then handing him a copy of a file, half of which Wendell guessed was missing.

He'd learnt the rest of what happened working on the case again last year. Which had been an odd experience, in of itself. Everyone else had been emotionally involved – even Reid, who was supposed to be the outside agent, the rational profiler from the elite BAU. Yet he seemed the most involved of anyone. Wendell hadn't seen much of them since the case, but he wasn't an idiot, and Angela wasn't always careful about where she gossipped. He knew that something was going on between them.

Even if he didn't, the look of shock, surprise, distaste and disappointment Reid currently wore indicated that there was something up.

Wendell walked towards the silver skeleton, knowing that his main purpose here was to examine it. He worked in silence, Rossi and Reid not making a sound. Wendell reached for the camera in one of the cases he'd brought down, and began taking photos. The click of the camera shutter sounded harsh echoing across the basement.

"Most of these bones are recent," Wendell said. "Some of them haven't been cleaned properly, there's still flesh on them. We can use that to date the bones." He hoped it would mean they wouldn't be waiting for DNA. "The skeleton appears to be pure silver, I can send samples back to the lab to test if it matches the original," Wendell continued. "Angela may be able to provide a better visual match then I can. Silver screws have been used to attach the bones to the skeleton."

He pauses to move round to shine a light onto the skeleton. "There's a mark on each of these ribs which corresponds with the placement of the stab wound that was the cause of death for each of the original Gormogon victims. I can't tell quite so accurately on the flesh victims, but from what I can see the same weapon was used on each of them. I can tell you for definite when we have the x-rays or when the bones have been stripped."

"Have you got an estimate for how many victims may have contributed to the skeleton?" Rossi asked.

Wendell looked again. "I'd need to take it back to the lab, look closer. How many missing persons have you got dating back how far?"

"Eight over seven months," Rossi said.

"These," Wendell pointed to a rib and a vertebrae, "are at least a year old. There are other victims."

-x-

Morgan wasn't sure what Angela thought she was looking for. Within five minutes it became clear that Angela didn't know what she was looking for.

"So you're like, a technical analyst?" Morgan asked, as Angela perused a stack of books.

She turned to face him, a book in her hands. "I suppose that's one way to describe my job," she said. She put the book down and moved on.

"What are you looking for?"

Morgan knew how to profile a house and that wasn't what Angela was doing. She was jumping from item to item, not picking out any of the things Morgan thought might be important.

"Anything that looks like what we found in the Gormogon vault," Angela said.

"I saw some pictures; Reid showed us when we did the profiles for Zack's release," Morgan said. "There was an immense amount of stuff."

Angela nodded, pausing to inspect a pair of candlesticks. "How old is Maynard again?" she asked.

"Thirty-two," Morgan replied.

A noise of agreeance came from Angela. "Yes, the vault was packed. Some items which had been missing for decades. It was almost like he wanted to be found; there were so many clues packed in that vault if only you knew what you were looking for."

"And you do?"

"I studied the contents for six months. I should know. It's all about opposition to Freemasonry. The Gormogons were an eighteenth century anti-masonic group, my husband used the name to refer to him and it stuck." Angela returned to the candlesticks, and held them aloft to Morgan. "Does this look like the sort of thing a single thirty-two year old would buy for themselves?"

"No," Morgan said. Even Reid, quirky as he was, wouldn't buy something like that.

Angela turned them upside down, looking for some kind of hallmark. "The Seal of Barabbas," she said, as she handed one of the candlesticks to Morgan.

"From the bible?" Morgan asked, looking down at the seal. He can't see anything particular about it.

"Yes. We found the seal all over the Gormogon vault. It was one of the key clues," Angela replied. "I don't think this is just some copycat, the Barabbas symbol never made it out to the press. It's got to be someone who knows what they're doing."

-x-

Hotch, Emily and JJ stood and looked at Zack through the glass. They'd put him in an interrogation room to keep the locals from intruding. Mandridge had gone off to organise a manhunt for Maynard.

"What are we going to do Hotch?" JJ asked.

"You two are going to talk to him," Hotch replied. "I think he'll respond better to you than me. He'd respond best to Reid but—"

"We can't put Reid in there," Emily said."Do you actually think he knows anything?"

She turned to look at Zack, and the others followed suit. He looked vulnerable, his head hanging low, nervous shakes beginning to appear. He was worried, but that could simply be a reaction to the stress they were putting him under.

"No." Hotch turned back to Emily and JJ. "But I think he does know things that can help us."

JJ and Emily nodded. They took one last glance at Hotch, and entered the interrogation room.

"Hey Zack," JJ started softly, in the gentle voice she reserved for dealing with victims and witnesses. She noted Zack's paleness, the wideness of his eyes, the shock written across his features.

"Where's Agent Hotchner?" he asked.

"He's watching," Emily said.

"And Spencer?"

"Spence is fine." JJ knew it wasn't true in the slightest, but there was no reason to concern Zack. "He's out right now but he'll be back soon."

JJ hoped Zack would be reassured by that knowledge, but he didn't change. He knew that JJ would tell him whatever she thought he wanted to hear to get information out of him.

"Okay Zack," Emily started, bringing out the photos which had been hurriedly snapped earlier. "Have you ever seen this before?"

Zack considered the photos, reaching out to sift through them. JJ and Emily watched his response. He went through the photos of the disarticulated body parts as if they were nothing. But he paused when he got to the silver skeleton photo, and went completely still. They gave him a moment to take it in.

"If you are referring to the process of replacing all the bones in a silver skeleton with actual bone as the Master did, then yes," Zack said, "but I have never seen this particular example."

"Did you know that anyone other than Gormogon was creating these skeletons?" JJ asked. Emily watched Zack carefully as he responded. She thought he was probably telling the truth about his knowledge of the skeleton, but there was something in the way he looked at the photo that made her wary. Zack had managed to deceive everyone before on the Gormogon issue. He could lie convincingly when needed.

"The Master and his Apprentice were the only ones. There could only be two. It was why the previous apprentice was killed when the Master recruited me."

"What was Gormogon's previous apprentice like?" Emily asked.

Hotch, outside, had noticed Zack's constant reference to Gormogon as "the Master." It was a habit he thought Reid had broken Zack of.

"I never met him," Zack said. "The Master was very secretive. Once I provided the information on Mr. Porter's location, and the previous apprentice had committed the murder, the Master killed him."

"Do you remember anything Gormogon might have said about him?" Emily queried.

Zack was quiet for a moment, racking his memory, back to the events which haunted him even now. He could remember the smell of flesh, the way there, the details of the seal that loomed large across the hall, his arrest warrant, transfer orders, the precise ways in which his hands won't work anymore but he couldn't recall anything. "No."

This was usually the point where someone suggested a cognitive interview, but here Emily wasn't convinced it would do anyone any good. So she didn't.

-x-

"Angela?"

Angela turned around, managing to avoid knocking over any of the piles of books which surrounded her on the floor. "Wendell?"

Wendell advanced towards her, holding part of the silver skeleton and a silver screw. "Are these a match?"

"Morgan, pass me my bag," Angela said as she looked at them. "Gloves?"

Wendell produced one from his pocket. Angela put it on before picking up the silver screw. Morgan handed her her bag and she reached inside it, producing a file, which she opened. "It's a match," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"It's the same size, same thread," Angela said. "That's quite a precise detail to know. Get them to Hodgins and he might even be able to tell if they're from the same batch."

"You can do that?" Morgan asked.

"Possibly," Wendell said. "We've got the originals in storage somewhere, right?"

"Wendell dear, the Jeffersonian never gets rid of anything. They'll be there," Angela said. Though she would not want to be the intern Cam gave that job to. "Hey Reid," she said, catching sight of him floating at the doorway.

"What have you found?" he asked.

"A pile of anti-masonic books," Angela pointed to the stack she was knee deep in. "Numerous instances of the Seal of Barrabbas, and this," she held aloft a series of cards, "is the crowning jewel. A series of tarot cards exactly like the ones we found in the vault."

Rossi, who was standing besides Reid, was most intrigued at that, and went to take a closer look.

"We've got more victims than your eight missing persons," Wendell said. "The skeleton and the screws look to be a match for the original ones. Each victim's COD looks to be a blade to the heart, though the coroner's office will confirm that for the most recent victims."

"Whoever it is knows way too much about the details," Angela said.

"So who are we looking at? Is this a copycat?"

"I don't know," Angela said. "If it is, they had access to every single scrap of information we had on Gormogon."

Chapter Text

In which Morgan worries about Reid, Reid worries about Zack, copycats abound (or do they?) and their suspect is too tall.

After Wendell removed the silver skeleton from the basement, packaging it up in the cases he'd brought just for that purpose, and had taken all the samples he wanted, he gave the all clear for the CSIs to be allowed on the site and the bodies to be removed.

There was some discussion of whether to send the evidence to the main state crime lab out in Maynard, or take it over to Boston. Wendell made a call and got the Boston University School of Medicine to open up their forensic anthropology lab. He explained that it would be easier with the familiar equipment and it was only located five minutes away from the Boston crime lab.

Angela also retrieved and cased up everything she wanted, though not anywhere near as efficiently as Wendell; strict instructions were given to the CSIs to inform her of anything they found with anti-masonic imagery. She left the poor woman in charge with a file that detailed everything they needed to find.

Reid didn't know how to feel about what they'd found. Nothing indicated Zack's involvement, but Wendell and Angela were correct when they said there was too much here that was the same as the old case. Zack was the only person alive, with his memory intact, who had ever served as part of the Gormogon partnership.

It was a worrying state of affairs.

Morgan, keeping a close eye on Reid, noticed the nerves. He also observed that Angela and Wendell were twitchy. Both of them were disturbed by what they had seen – and considering that they handled some of the worst homicides across the country, that wasn't a good sign.

It was still Reid who worried him. Reid, back to his skittish self, angry; Morgan was still expecting the outburst. It was concerning that Reid hadn't broke. Bottling it all up inside himself wasn't good for anyone.

Hopefully progress had been made back at the station.

-x-

Hotch was now certain that none of this case made any bloody sense. More to that, he was almost certain that Zack Addy was hiding something. He was too nervous and yet too calm not to be. But he and JJ and Emily were also sure that the answers he'd given in interrogation were honest ones. So they'd let him out of the interrogation room, brought him back into the main conference room, and made him coffee.

No one wanted to face Reid if Zack wasn't being treated right.

They'd all rather that Reid never found out about the interrogation, though the chance of that happening was slim. Zack told Reid everything.

Luckily, Zack seemed much calmer than earlier. Though, according to the call they had gotten from Morgan saying that the rest of the team was coming back, Reid wasn't any better.

Hotch, JJ and Emily heard their remaining team members before they saw them. All three of them were carrying heavy boxes.

"What did you guys find?" JJ asked as she surveyed the cases

"This is only the half of it," Morgan said. "There's another box in the SUV, and Wendell and Rossi have taken all the forensics over to Boston."

Angela put her box down, and started talking, but Reid just didn't care. His entire focus was on Zack, who, to his relief, was sitting in the conference room with everyone else, no cuffs in sight.

Reid slipped into the seat besides Zack, trying not to be too obvious to the rest of the team. It was relatively easy, seeing as how they were all focused on Angela's presentation. "Are you alright?" Reid asked.

"I'm fine," Zack said, attempting a reassuring tone. It wasn't very successful. "Honestly."

"Are you sure?" Reid asked again. "What did Hotch want?"

"He just wanted to know if I knew anything. It was all perfectly reasonable," Zack replied. He then paused a moment, looking at Reid. "I'm fine, Spencer."

Reid wasn't convinced, but there were only so many times he could ask. "If you're sure," he said. He looked back at Angela. "There's stuff like that all over the house," he explained.

"I never saw any of it," Zack said. "Everyone now assumes I'm some sort of expert on anti-masonic imagery because of the case but I don't know much about it. I knew what was in the vault. But I never saw much around his house."

"It's alright," Reid said. "Angela's the expert."

-x-

As soon as the team started proper work on the case, Zack was banished from the conference room. Anderson was placed back in his position of babysitter. The police station became a frantic mess as they organised roadblocks, the press, everything they could to try and catch Carl Maynard.

"Basically, this guy knows way too much about the original case in 2008 to not have had a connection," Angela said.

The BAU team hated to admit it, but she was right. Too many insignificant details matched up, details which had never been released to the press, never been released outside the original investigating team.

"Is it at all possible that Maynard was involved in the investigation?" Emily asked. "Or knew someone who was involved?"

"Garcia's running down everyone who was involved but nothing's popped yet," Morgan said. "It's a long list though."

"But hardly any of them had access to the whole case," Angela said. "Remember, we suspected he had someone inside the Jeffersonian fairly early on, even before we found all the pieces in Limbo."

"What about the apprentice?" JJ asked. "I know you found a skeleton that fit his general description, but did you ever get a confirmation on who he was?"

"No," Angela answered.

"So there is a chance that it was just a random body," Hotch said.

Angela considered the suggestion, not liking it in the slightest. "I suppose," she replied.

"Do we actually know anything about the apprentice?" Morgan asked.

"Zack didn't seem to know much," Emily replied.

"We know he was five foot seven to five foot nine. Approximately one hundred and eighty pounds. Lot of upper body strength. A vulnerable kid. Dead father," Reid chimed in for the first time in the discussion.

"That's all?"

"He's probably white Caucasian and would have been in his early-to-mid twenties," Reid said.

"And they id-ed the body of all that?" Emily was ever so slightly astonished.

"Identified would be a strong word," Angela jumped in. "We've never even id-ed Gormogon properly and we had his face and fingerprints. He'd taken himself off the grid. We've never had any reason to suspect that the body wasn't the apprentices because no one else who fitted the victimology went missing. Zack said Gormogon had killed the apprentice to give way to him."

"But Zack lied about multiple things in his confession," Emily pointed out. "We shouldn't trust any of it." She saw the look of displeasure on Reid's face at her statement. "Reid, you said yourself earlier that Zack must have lied about when the apprentice was killed."

Reid had to admit that she had a point. "Which is why Caroline Julian wanted the proof that the apprentice was dead. She was satisfied."

"Reid at one point she was satisfied that Zack committed that murder," Morgan said.

"Could Maynard have been the apprentice?" JJ asked the straight question which everyone was thinking.

"It seems unlikely," Reid said.

"I know your tech is running down the names of everyone on the case," Angela said, "but I can't think of anyone who was involved enough to know all the details who'd do this."

"Angela's right." Hotch placed the file he was looking through down on the table. "We should start considering the possibility that Maynard is the missing apprentice."

-x-

When Zack saw Det. Mandridge drop the telephone he was holding and walk briskly towards the conference room, he figured that there was something up.

The BAU all looked up when Mandridge walked through the door.

"Patrol caught Maynard attempting to cross into Boston. They're bringing him in now," he said.

The BAU leapt into action. Hotch and Emily were quick to follow Mandridge and ask where Maynard had been caught. JJ followed them. Morgan got on the phone to Garcia to see if she'd actually found a connection, a reason why Maynard would have headed into Boston instead of leaving fast in the other direction.

Angela looked up, but only briefly, to ascertain that something was being done. She then turned back down the mass of files in front of her.

Reid considered his options. Looking out into the main area of the police station, he saw JJ consulting with an officer about releasing the arrest to the press, Hotch looking anxious as per usual and Emily on the phone with someone.

And then he saw Zack, sitting still at a desk.

That was where his focus went. It wouldn't be long until Maynard was brought in, but until that happened the station was so frantic no one would notice their conversation. "It's okay, I can stay with him." Reid approached Anderson. "Go get yourself a coffee or something."

Anderson nodded appreciatively and walked off.

Reid sat in the chair Anderson had previously occupied and pulled it closer to Zack. Zack reached out in an odd display of confidence and grabbed Reid's hand.

Reid found himself completely drawn into Zack. He took his free hand and grasped Zack's other one, trying to be reassuring. Despite the fact that Zack looked alright, Reid had been around him long enough to recognise the fear that lay below the surface.

"It'll all be fine, Zack," he said in an attempt to reassure him.

Zack simply nodded in response. He didn't trust his voice not to crack and break.

"They'll bring him in safely. We'll find out what's really happening." Zack didn't look any better for hearing that. "There's nothing to be worried about Zack. I won't let anything happen to you."

Reid gave one of Zack's hands a squeeze.

Zack suddenly lurched forward, grabbing at Reid's shirt and buried himself in the other man's chest. Reid was admittedly slightly stunned for a moment, but then placed his arms around Zack, pulling him closer.

It took a moment or two for Zack to separate himself from Reid, and then another couple of seconds to compose himself. "Sorry," he managed to say.

"Hey," Reid said, moving his hand from its place on Zack's arm up to cup his face. "There's no need to apologise."

"Reid," Hotch yelled across the station.

Reid dropped his hand and stood up quickly. He could see Anderson hurrying back, now with a cup of coffee, and by the tone of Hotch's voice whatever he wanted was important.

"Go," Zack said, though all he really wanted was for Reid to stay.

Zack managed to put on a brave face as Reid went to see what Hotch wanted. Reid didn't manage so much, shooting Zack a painfully lovelorn look.

-x-

Wendell wasn't sure what was going on. Rossi helped him unload all the crates into the BUSM's forensic anthropology lab, and Wendell then got to work. All the parts of the silver skeleton had to be photographed again, on a clean backdrop, and then x-rayed. A couple of grad students had helped with that part.

He'd then got stuck in studying them. He'd made a brief call to Hodgins to tell him he was sending over the screws and one of the silver bones for testing. From what he could tell there was a lot of shrieking going on in the background. Hodgins had simply told him that he'd do it when he had time and could they please have Angela back as everything was falling to pieces, and then hung up on him.

Rossi was good. He didn't hover and constantly demand results like Booth could do if he was frustrated. He'd left Wendell to get on with it, and then had disappeared completely five minutes ago to answer a phone call.

"What's happened?" Wendell asked when Rossi returned.

"They caught Maynard attempting to cross into Boston," Rossi explained. "They're bringing him in now. Hotch said they're operating under the assumption that he's the apprentice from the old case."

Now that made Wendell look up. "I did explain to you earlier that I identified the bones of the apprentice right?"

"The team's reached the conclusion that you must have been mistaken," Rossi replied.

Wendell sighed. For once he'd like to be believed when he said something. "I'm not," he said. "Even if I was, whoever you've got here isn't the apprentice."

"How do you know that?" Rossi asked.

Wendell pointed to the microscope, instructing Rossi to look through it. Rossi did so, then looked up and raised an eyebrow. "There's two sets of teeth marks on some of the bones. There's one set on all the older bones up to about a year ago, and then a second set joins them and that's the one that appears on the bones of all your missing person victims."

"So Maynard has his own master?"

"That's the conclusion I would draw. I'm still trying to get accurate dates on some of these bones, but some of these are over five years old, and I'd wager the oldest is ten. I'll have accurate results in a couple of hours," Wendell said.

"I need to call Hotch," was all Rossi said in reply.

-x-

Reid had been sent to help Angela compile everything they had on Maynard for interrogation. He supposed that Hotch had done it to keep him out the way. He still heard the clatter and mayhem when they pulled Maynard in.

"Why have they even brought him here?" Reid heard Angela mutter. "They might as well have taken him over to Brighton."

Reid was too busy staring at Maynard to reply to her.

"Hotch, Hotch," he said as we made his way through the assorted officers milling around.

"We know Reid," Emily said.

"Rossi called. Wendell's got proof," Hotch said.

"Besides the obvious," Emily continued.

She looked over back at Maynard who was currently being escorted over to interrogation by Morgan. He easily 5'11, more like 6 foot. There was no way he was the one who'd murdered Mr. Porter.

-x-

The BAU team plus Angela and Detective Mandridge were all gathered outside the interrogation room. The officers had restrained Maynard, who was currently sitting inside the room rocking back and forth, nervous, hands shaking.

Hotch debated what to do. What hand to play. Maynard was clearly not the old apprentice, and Wendell's discovery indicated the presence of an old master, which just opened up a while new set of questions.

"Reid, I want you to go over to the BUSM, help Wendell with the forensics," Hotch said, and Reid nodded. "Send Rossi back here." Reid scuttled off. "Angela, was there any reference anywhere to a Master?" Angela shook her head. "Look again. Go back to the house if you have to. Morgan, JJ, help her out."

"Wouldn't Reid be better at this?" Morgan asked.

"Usually yes, but you've all seen how he is right now. Until we get to the bottom of this Reid may continue to be a liability," Hotch said. "Morgan, call Garcia. See if she can find an older male in Maynard's life who disappeared about a year ago."

When they left, it was just Hotch, Emily and Mandridge left.

"So what do we do now Hotch?" Emily asked. "I'm not sure Maynard's in a fit state to be questioned. He's not being rational. He's probably suffering from a psychotic break to be in this state."

"Rational?" Mandridge asked. "Nothing he did seems rational."

"It does to them," Hotch explained. "Their belief in the delusion that secret societies exist and are harming the human condition is so strong that they are completely in rational in killing these people."

"Only Maynard went off script, stopped killing secret society members, stopped killing only widows sons, none of the expected victimology fits," Emily added.

"Zack says that he accepted three assumptions as fact. The first was that secret societies exist. The second that the human experience is negatively affected by their existence. The third was that attacking members of the secret societies would reverse this affect. His irrationality saved him; he put the life of his best friend over the Gormogon mission. For him, the logic was faulty."

"But if you believed, if you were suffering that delusion, killing your best friend wouldn't have made you pause. The first apprentice they caught committed suicide in his cell the night they caught him rather than give up any information."

"I'll put him on watch," Mandridge said, and walked off.

It left Hotch and Emily looking at each other.

"I'll go in," Hotch offered. "You stay here and observe."

-x-

Rossi saw the grim look on Emily's face as he walked over to where she was standing outside the interrogation room. "I guess Hotch isn't having much luck?"

"None at all," Emily replied. They could hear the conversation going on; Emily was watching Maynard's body language and it didn't give her much.

"Reid seems pretty pissed," Rossi said.

"It's Reid," Emily replied. She knew that there was more to it though. "He's attached to Zack, he'd do anything for him and this case is seriously questioning his loyalties because he just doesn't know where he stands and he's just frustrated."

"I know," Rossi said back. "I'd be pissed too in his place. Hotch isn't exactly helping."

"He thinks Zack isn't telling us everything," Emily commented. "I think he's right." She was about to explain what she'd observed when they'd interrogated Zack but her attention was taken by a sudden increase in volume in the interrogation room. Maynard was screaming and shouting.

She and Rossi couldn't pick much out; masonic trickery, the knights will fall, a new world order will be established under the lines of Barabbas and you will all be grateful when you fight for your freedom. To give Hotch credit, he sat there and took it, all with a straight face.

"I'd love to see what this guy'd make of a Dan Brown book," Rossi commented.

Emily cracked a smile. "I don't think we'd survive the fallout."

Chapter Text

In which Zack gets another nightmare, it's Rossi's turn to get woken up in the middle of the night, Hodgins manages not to be a conspiracy theorist and Zack provides his first bit of useful information all case.

It was late, and still no one had made a breakthrough. There wasn't the same urgency now they had Maynard locked up. Even though he hadn't revealed anything that was useful, they stood a chance of getting through. Wendell remained at BUSM to look for clues in the forensics, while the rest of the team poured over the anti-masonic materials.

And then came the argument over sleeping arrangements. They had four more people to sleep than the night before, funding was limited, and Caroline Julian had said that Zack was to be kept in Federal Custody - and she meant in sight, at all times - until they got to the bottom of it.

The original arrangement had been for Wendell and Angela to have individual rooms (the Jeffersonian budget helped there) and then for Anderson to continue to babysit Zack. But then Reid had pitched a fit at Hotch, saying he was completely capable of looking after Zack, and Hotch had admitted defeat; Zack would still be in the custody of a federal agent.

As soon as permission was granted, Reid tugged Zack away from the group, grabbed his bag and took him straight up to the hotel room.

Zack thought it was amazing that Spencer could be in a hotel room for only one night and still make it look like his own. Piles of paper and books were everywhere. And then Reid went and dumped more books he'd got from the crime scene on the pile. Zack just stood in the doorway and looked on while Reid busied himself with sorting things.

"Are you alright?" Reid asked for what must have been the twentieth time that day. Zack simply nodded, but he didn't move. "Don't lie to me Zack. I've noticed how on edge you are. Do you just want to sleep, or shower first?"

"Sleep," Zack answered. A shower would have relaxed him, but it would have left him alone in his thoughts for far too long. "I can take the floor." He'd noticed that there was only one double bed.

"No Zack," Reid looked concerned. "You need your rest."

"So do you, Spencer," Zack pointed out.

"There's room enough for both of us," Reid said "Go and get yourself sorted. I've got a couple more things to do before I sleep."

Zack wanted to argue with Reid, tell him he was being ridiculous, but he knew he wasn't. After all, Zack had fallen asleep in Reid's arms only a couple of weeks ago at JJ's. There was certainly more room in the bed than there had been on her couch.

Zack crawled into the bed. The sound of Spencer bustling around was soothing, and quickly lulled Zack to sleep. He wasn't even aware that Reid had joined him until he woke up to find Reid shaking him.

"Spencer?" Zack looked puzzled. He was surprised by how they'd woken up; Spencer clutching at his arms, his face close.

"You were having another nightmare," Reid said. Zack looked confused for a moment and then his eyes opened wide as he remembered.

Reid pulled him in close, burying Zack's head in his chest, circling an arm round his torso and then the other threaded its way into Zack's hair, cradling the back of his head. Zack in return wrapped his arms tight around Spencer.

"What's with you lately?" Reid asked softly. "I know you've always suffered from nightmares, but they've gotten really bad over the last few weeks." Reid didn't talk about what the nightmare might have been about. It was an unspoken rule that they didn't talk about whatever Zack was having nightmares about. Reid thought he could probably guess what they were normally about, but this latest lot had him stumped.

"It's nothing," Zack muttered. Reid pulled away from Zack so he could look at him. Zack knew that look when he saw it. "It's just stress, the case, everyone looking at me and thinking that I know something."

Reid made a vague noise of agreeance, even though he wasn't convinced. But he knew from experience that pushing the issue wouldn't get him anywhere. He didn't want to push anyway. Didn't want to make Zack any more upset than he was already.

His hand settled on the side on Zack's face, moving softly up and down in reassuring motions. "You should sleep," Reid said, softly, leaning in just a bit closer to Zack.

Zack looked up, his eyes meeting Reid's, noticing how close they were. When he realised the intensity of Reid's gaze he ducked his head and stared instead into Reid's chest, contemplating if burying his head there would be acceptable.

Zack did move forward, just a bit, so he was settled in Spencer's arms, his own hands loosely circling the other man. "Stay?" he said weakly, voice muffled by the sheets.

"Always," Reid replied, and drew him in close.

-x-

Hotch had honestly thought he'd get a full night's sleep this time, given that they'd caught the guy. And yet still at three in the morning his phone rang.

"What is it?" he said, groaning internally because at this point he was operating on a serious lack of sleep.

It didn't take long for Hotch to be sat bolt-upright in bed. "What?" The exclamation shot out of his mouth. "How could you let that happen?"

"I'm sorry sir, we only had our backs turned for five minutes."

"No use apologising now, someone'll be down at the station in twenty minutes," Hotch said.

Rossi's door was luckily right next to Hotch's, so Hotch knocked rapidly. He gave Rossi a couple of minutes, and then the door opened. "Maynard committed suicide in his cell," Hotch said.

Rossi raised his eyebrows. "How'd that happen?"

"I don't know," Hotch said. "They want someone down at the station and I went with Reid to the crime-scene last night at four in the morning. Could you?"

"Of course," Rossi said.

Hotch let out a sigh. Rossi busied himself with actually being presentable and Hotch went back to bed.

-x-

Rossi, standing in front of Maynard's cell, was fed up. Officers and guards were swarming around, some apologising, some attempting to photograph, all getting in the way.

Not that any of it really helped. What would have been helpful was if they'd been able to question the guy, but that hadn't worked. The kill was badly staged though. Maynard hadn't had much – further confirming Rossi's suspicion that whatever had happened to Jason Harkness, the kid hadn't done it completely on his own – and yet he'd still managed to contort himself into the widow's son position.

Rossi wasn't interested in the details of how he'd managed it though. What they needed was answers to what the hell was going on now and Rossi really hoped that once the rest of the team was awake and functioning that they'd get somewhere because Maynard hadn't given them anything.

"Do we know how it happened?" Rossi asked.

"No, Cameras went down and I don't know how it happened," Mandridge said, who was starting to show the strain of the case with deep bags below his eyes. Rossi wondered if the poor man had slept at all in the past forty-eight hours.

"Anything you can find will help," Rossi said back.

-x-

Angela staggered into the police station conference room, clutching her coffee close. The BAU were all too chipper in the mornings, she'd decided, and Wendell also seemed to be doing fine – despite the fact that she knew, from personal experience, that mornings and Wendell didn't really mix – though that might have something to do with the fact that he was currently locked in a room with a load of bones and not six profilers and a pissed off Massachusetts' State Trooper.

And well, Reid and Zack, being Reid and Zack. Not that that was a bad thing, but it was decidedly unhelpful when what they really needed was Reid the profiler and Zack the forensic anthropologist turned apprentice aka the only one who actually knew anything about this whole Gormogon business. What they've got instead is well... they were acting like fifteen year olds with crushes.

Thank god Mandridge hadn't caught on or he'd have exploded. He was steaming even now. Angry that Maynard was dead, angry they didn't have anything, angry that his case was solved and he'd probably have nothing more to do with it. Whatever else was going on here it didn't really concern the state troopers.

Angela had the transcript of Maynard's conversation with Hotch in front of her, with a copy of every word he'd said in custody. They were all looking over it for anything that might indicate their next step. Angela didn't know whether she'd been drafted so she didn't feel left out or if they though she could genuinely be helpful.

She sipped her coffee as she went through the transcript. It was interesting, but Jack was probably the one to ask. She was sure there was more to these ravings about secret societies. Even though Jack had been less open about his conspiracy beliefs since the debacle with Zack, Angela knew he kept abreast of what was happening.

Nothing jumped out at her, and everyone else was still buried reading. Reid was most likely pretending. Out of habit, her eyes flicked to look at the evidence boards, and she was drawn to a map pinned to the wall where Reid had been marking out the dump sites.

Reid noticed when Angela got up and started walking towards the boards. "Angela?" he asked, and that got everyone else's attention on her too.

"I was just thinking," Angela said. "In D.C. we found the second skeleton when we followed the Barabbas hint and flipped the masonic compass that was present in the plans of the city. I hadn't tried it here because neither Cambridge or Boston is built on Masonic lines, but look—" Angela pointed to a couple of locations on the board – Maynard's house, the place he'd dumped the numerous body parts and where they'd finally caught him. "You can see part of a masonic compass." She joined the dots.

Reid completed the compass in his head. "The other point is Wellington station."

Morgan immediately places the phone call to Garcia.

"Yo baby girl, is there any connection between Maynard and Wellington Station?"

"I can try." The typical flurry of typing was heard. "Nothing that I can see, no property, his MBAT card has never gone that far, I'll keep digging and let you know."

"Thanks darling."

They all looked to Hotch, who was considering the most effective way to split everyone up.

"Rossi, Morgan, JJ, head over there and see if there's anything odd," Hotch said.

"I'll go with them," Mandridge added.

"Emily, Reid, go and see Wendell. See if we're any closer to id-ing any of the older victims." Both of them nod, Reid touching Zack's shoulder gently as he left. "Angela, is there anything in there that Maynard said that jumps out at you?"

Angela shook her head. "My husband might; he's the one who put us on the track of the secret society stuff," she said though.

"Can you get a copy of this to him?" Hotch asked. "I know your team was busy with a case, but if this is part of something bigger than I don't want it getting out of hand."

"Of course," Angela said. "Penelope has it on file right, I can tell her where to send it."

Hotch just nodded and waved her off. "Zack."

Zack, who had been shrunk as small in his chair as he could try and be, suddenly sat up. "Yes, Hotch?"

"I know you read the transcript over Reid's shoulder." Busted. Shouldn't have been quite so obvious. "It's not a problem, but seeing as how you did read it is there anything there that you think stands out?" Zack stayed silent, wondering exactly what Hotch wanted. "Zack, right now you are the only person we have left who has ever been privy to the Gormogon ideology. Anything you can tell me will help."

Zack sat quietly, contemplating. He reached out so that the transcript was actually in front of him. Looked down, intentionally not meeting Hotch's eyes. "I'm not a profiler," he said quietly.

"I don't want you to be," Hotch replied, taking a seat opposite Zack instead of looming over him.

"He's rambling here, about Barabbas, who Angela's explained the importance of. The Master thought that Barabbas was the root of it all, the root of conspiracy," Zack said, slowly. His eyes glanced across the page again. "And here he talks about the Knights and Columbus and Isabella."

"Isabella?"

"The Daughters of Isabella, its a sister order to the Knights of Columbus. They're not really masonic as per se but the Master saw all secret societies as a threat. Looking through Maynard's books he's much more interested in the dangers of Freemasonry, though, so I don't understand why it would come up."

"We can work that part out," Hotch said.

"And there's all these ramblings about the pentagram and Lucifer coming to reclaim the earth. I can't see anything which is specific to the Gormogon ideology though."

-x-

"Okay so does anyone know what we're looking for?" Morgan asked as he stepped out the SUV.

"Any thing that Maynard might have planted here," Rossi said.

"I've got his picture, I'll go see if any of the station staff recognise him," JJ said, pulling a couple of copies out of a file. She headed off towards the ticket office.

"I'll come with you," Mandridge said, quickly chasing after her.

Morgan and Rossi looked round, trying to work out what the best place to start was. Morgan noticed a series of lockers which intrigued him.

"Yo Rossi, have we found any reference to a number that might have been significant to Maynard?" Morgan asked, wandering over there.

Rossi followed. "Not that I remember, but it'll be Reid or the Jeffersonian lot you actually want to ask," he said.

Morgan swept his fingers round the edge of a locker, testing the not very secure locks which were attached. "There's no way of actually ensuring your privacy," he said, giving the locker a not so gentle shake. Nothing sounded off though. "These things would be easy to open if you tried."

"Maynard hasn't exactly been thinking clearly in the past couple of months," Rossi replied.

The click of JJ's heels against the surface alerted them to her oncoming presence. "One of the ticket guys recognised him, or so they think," she said. "They said he usually hangs around over here, never actually catches a train, they've never spoke to him. One of them thinks that maybe there used to be an older guy who he met, but they weren't very sure."

"That could be the old master," Rossi suggested. "Do they know if he had a locker here?"

"Possibly, but they don't have a number," JJ said. "Mandridge is still trying to see if there's any security footage or if any regular passengers have ever seen him use one."

"Good," Morgan responded. "If Maynard picked the locker while he was still being rational though, if his master picked it out, the number had to have some significance to him right?"

"I'll call Reid, see if he's got one," Rossi said, moving to call the number.

"Wait," JJ said, and Rossi did stop to turn and look at her. "Wouldn't it be easier just to ask Zack? If they are following the ideology so strongly, he'd be the one to know."

"Good point," Rossi agreed. "If Hotch actually lets us speak to him."

-x-

"Angela, please please come back here if Dr. B snaps at us one more time—"

Angela rolled her eyes at her husband's dramatics. She didn't like being away from home but this was different. "Did you get what I sent you?" she asked politely.

"Oh yeah," Hodgins replied, and Angela can hear the tell-tale swivel of his office chair as he rolled across his office floor, presumably to go look at something. "It's fascinating Angie, really, where did you get this?"

"It's the guy who murdered all those people up in Boston, the one who's basement we found the silver skeleton in," Angela replied.

There was a flurry of discussion, as Hodgins asked if they'd caught the guy, and Angela explained what had happened, same as last time, dead in his cell, and they still didn't know what was happening or how he'd got the details of the case.

"I mean, most of this is similar to the stuff that we found in the Gormogon vault, but the reference to Isabella has me stumped," Hodgins explained. "I suppose it's most likely a reference to the Daughters of Isabella who have ties to the Knights, which Gormogon was always obsessed with, but they don't have any masonic ties and there isn't really a whiff of conspiracy there."

"Jack, it almost sounds like you're being sensible," Angela commented.

"It's true; the knights are fishy but neither of the sister groups has ever gotten itself into trouble," Hodgins replied. "The ramblings about the pentagram is odd though, it's a common anti-masonic conspiracy but not one the Gormogon's ever seemed concerned with."

Angela cocked her head, clutching at her phone and the paper and looked through the glass doors to the conference room.

"Ange?" Hodgins noted her silence.

"Some thing's happened, Zack's got this worried look on his face and Hotch is bustling, I have to go," Angela replied.

"Of course. We're almost done with this case, they're bringing someone in now, don't hesitate to call if any of you need anything. The samples of silver are in the mass-spectrometer now, I'll call as soon as I've got the results. Is Zack alright?"

"He's coping," was all Angela could say in response. "He'll pull through with Reid's help."

Hodgins hung up before Angela could get talking on the nature of Zack's relationship. He had to focus on solving their current case so he could get back to help his old friend.

-x-

"Hotch, is Zack there?" Rossi asked.

"Yes," Hotch replied. "I'll put you on speaker." JJ and Morgan both heard the click as Hotch transferred them to speakerphone.

"Zack, was there ever a number that had significance in the Gormogon case?" JJ asked.

"Yes," Zack said. "The number 1026 was carved into one of the rib bones, and when I opened the corresponding security deposit box we found the key to Arthur Graves' office."

Morgan, upon hearing the number, had already grabbed Mandridge and one of the station guards and was headed over to the locker with the corresponding number.

"That number has no other significance, numerical or to the Gormogon ideology so it might have just been a personal connection to the Master though," Zack added.

"We'll find out soon enough," Rossi said. "We're opening up a locker."

Rossi and JJ both stood back as someone found a master set of keys and swung the door open. Morgan was the first one in there, picking through the items.

"This has definitely got something to do with it," Morgan said. "Or there's another guy in town with a massive anti-masonic obsession."

Chapter Text

In which Wendell almost rivals Angela as gossip queen, a horrible truth is realised, and Reid remains oblivious to the truth.

Wendell was starting to think that Hotch was trying to get Reid out of his hair. The genius profiler was currently pacing up and down his lab. Emily Prentiss, to her credit, sat quietly; asking questions occasionally, none that disrupted his work process, and passed him tools whenever he needed them. She'd even called up the BAU tech when Wendell had asked, and was currently sifting through missing persons reports to see if any of them were likely matches.

Wendell was used to working around antsy people whose working patterns didn't always fit with the norm. He assisted Dr. Brennan, and she wasn't what anyone was going to call normal. He could only cope with Reid pacing up to a point though, and about the tenth time that Reid walked down the back side of the lab, almost knocking over another glass beaker, that Wendell finally had enough.

"Reid!"

Reid stopped, and turned to look at Wendell. "Yes?"

"Sit down," Wendell said. Reid didn't argue with him, just pulled out the nearest stool and sat down on it. He started drumming his fingers on the table. It was a bit of a pain but much less likely to cause damage than the constant pacing. "I know you're stressed, I know you want this over so that you and Zack can get back to playing happy families, but you destroying the lab will not make it happen any quicker."

Emily had to stifle her smile at the happy families comment, while Reid just raised his eyebrows and looked confused momentarily. Emily lifted hers back and gave him a look and then Reid sighed and went, "This is what Hotch was on about earlier, isn't it."

Well Wendell doesn't know about that but it looked like they might now at least be on the same page. "Look, Angela gossips man," he said.

Reid just took his head in his hands. Wendell appreciated the peace and quiet this provided, apart from the slam when Reid dropped his head onto the table.

"He still doesn't get it," Emily commented, keeping her voice down. "JJ keeps saying he does and she's won that pool we had going but I'm not convinced."

"Should have invited Angela, she's been trying to convince the rest of us to put money on it for what feels like forever now," Wendell said back. There was a groan from Reid, who probably could hear them despite their efforts to keep their voices down. "Can you call Garcia again?"

"Of course," Emily replied as she placed her phone on the table and hit the call button. "Garcia?"

"What can I do for you my delightful darlings?"

"Convince Reid to man up and admit his feelings?" Emily joked, noticing how Reid had pretty much buried his head into his arms and was almost definitely not paying attention right now.

It did have an effect on Garcia though. "Guess JJ doesn't know the boy genius as well as she thinks she does," she said back.

"Hey Garcia?" Wendell butted in because he knew Garcia's type and maybe just maybe they'd ribbed on Reid enough for the moment.

"Yes, oh blonde Jeffersonian one?"

"Have you found anyone who matches any of the descriptions I gave you?"

"They're still running, I'm afraid, and the others have called with another problem," Garcia replied.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

"They found a locker at Wellington station full of anti-masonic books and a whole string of letters," Garcia said.

"Hotch hasn't called us, are you sure?" Emily asked again. She glanced over at Reid, but he hadn't moved.

"Yep, Morgan's sending over the photos now," Garcia replied. "Is the boy genius actually there?"

"He's currently unresponsive," Emily replied, "but yes."

"Tell him he ought to get his butt over there," Garcia said. "I think this might be a lot worse than anyone currently thinks."

-x-

JJ watched the scene; she could see Morgan on the phone to Garcia whilst Rossi was flicking through a bundle of letters they'd found at the back of the locker. Mandridge was still trying to get something useful out of the station staff, but he was having no success. There was a steady crowd gathering, and they really needed to get out of there, before the FBI presence managed to spook the press.

"We should get this back to the station," JJ said to Rossi, who was quite engrossed in one of the letters.

"Of course," Rossi responded, but didn't actually make any attempt to go. JJ gave it a couple of seconds and Rossi then looked up. "I think Hotch needs to see these."

JJ just nodded and went to fetch a box from the SUV to pile the contents of the locker in. "Morgan," she yelled as she did so. "Give me a hand."

Morgan gave a solitary nod, returning to his phone call for a moment before joining Rossi and JJ in stacking books into boxes. Thankfully there weren't nearly as many as there were back at Maynard's house and it didn't take them very long, and Mandridge managed to keep most of the crowd back while they carted the boxes from the locker to the SUV. JJ expected she'd be fielding calls from reporters that evening though, wanting to know what the BAU's interest was.

It didn't take long to drive from the train station back to the police station, and JJ gathered from one of Morgan's phone calls to Garcia that Reid and Emily would meet them there. There was also something going on about how JJ had totally lost the bet, which JJ guessed was a reference to the betting pool they had going on about Zack and Spence.

Their SUV pulled in at the same time as the one which Reid and Emily were in, and JJ drafted Reid into carrying the box which she should have carried, while Rossi and Emily led the way into the station. It was mostly just to give Reid something to do.

There were a good number of phones ringing as the BAU made its way through the front, and they could see that Anderson had been put to good use answering some of them. JJ thought she might have to stop and deal with the press sooner than she thought; they'd managed to keep most of it all fairly quiet but if the press got hold of any of the pieces and put them together they were going to be in trouble.

It didn't seem that the press had made the connections yet though, or they'd have heard about it, angry phone calls from Strauss about what on earth they thought they were doing.

They made it through to the conference room without any problems; Morgan and Reid put the boxes down on the table and immediately started unpacking them. It was the letters that everyone was interested in, and Rossi handed Hotch a couple.

Reid slid into a seat beside Zack, grabbing one of the books while everyone else crowded the boxes. Zack shot Reid a questioning look, but Reid didn't really have time to answer.

"How many different authors are there?" Hotch asked as the team started sorting letters into piles.

"Four, at least," Emily said.

"Five," JJ corrected as she started a separate pile.

"Reid," Hotch beckoned, and Reid was forced to get up and examine the letters.

"Seven," he said, separating out one of the piles, and noting that Morgan had started yet another new one. "Seven different sets of correspondence."

"So the guy was communicating with people all over the country, I don't get it," Mandridge said, interrupting.

"Any of these people could potentially have been the source of the Gormogon information. If there's someone else out there who we don't know about who has this information, we need to find them to prevent what's happened here from happening again," Rossi said.

The team all looked at each other. Hotch was the one who broke the silence. "We need to start profiling these letters. JJ, can you make sure we're clear to fly back this evening? Someone tell Wendell that he needs to make arrangements to ship the Gormogon evidence back to D.C., I think we've done all we can here." Mandridge was about to speak but Hotch turned to him and continued before he could actually say anything. "We'll keep you updated as the case progresses but Maynard is dead, your case is solved, if you have any problems you know how to contact us."

-x-

Packing evidence for transport was one of the things Wendell was good at; mostly because since he'd convinced Cam to give him the extra hours at the Jeffersonian, a lot of what he did was packing up evidence for storage and transportation. It didn't make it any less dull. At least back at the Jeffersonian there were people bustling around, Hodgins barging in mid-shift to try and recruit Wendell for some sort of mad-cap experiment.

Here there was no one because the lab has been declared off-limits to the regular students while it was being used for a criminal investigation. And all the BAU have gone back to the police station to investigate whatever their latest find was, no longer concerned about the identities of the rest of the victims.

It wasn't like Prentiss or Reid had actually being paying much in the way of attention to what he was doing while he was there, anyway.

He was busy wrapping rib bones in protective film when the computer beeped; he'd set it up to link with the Jeffersonian network. Grateful for the distraction, he wandered over there.

"Hey Wendell, how are things going?"

It was Cam; no one else would check up on him – well Hodgins might but Angela was with him and if Hodgins wanted to know anything than he'd just call her.

"I'm packing up and preparing everything for transport; I presume it'll all be sent to the lab though I haven't actually discussed that with Agent Hotchner yet." Wendell would call him afterwards to check where everything was supposed to be sent.

"I haven't heard either, but we might as well have it seeing as we still have half the rest of the Gormogon evidence," Cam said. She looked tired. "We're all finished here, Seeley just brought the guy in an hour ago."

"Good," Wendell said, though he didn't actually know what case they were investigating – it wasn't his week.

"Have you got any closer to figuring out what's going on?" Cam asked. "Hodgins got the mass spec results back, the silver in the bones is an exact match for the old skeleton, but the silver screws were more recently cast," she added, knowing that Hodgins had passed that information onto Angela and presumably the BAU team, but Wendell looked like he'd been working alone for a while and might not have received the information.

"Well, they caught the guy behind this batch," Wendell started. "Brought him in, questioned him, didn't get anything out of him that they've managed to use yet, then he committed suicide somehow last night in his cell, there's was a partner somewhere and they've found a locker full of letters which seem to be immensely intriguing because everyone ran off to read them and apart from the call to say we're leaving tonight, I haven't heard anything else."

"And Zack?" Cam inquired.

"He seems to be doing alright. I can't really say the same for Reid though, I had him with me this morning and all he did was pace up and down," Wendell said. "He's upset that this whole thing has been dragged up again, and I get that, but the last three years of Booth and Brennan going in circles round each other was quite enough so can someone bang their heads together and get them to realise it?"

"Mention it to Angela and she might take it upon herself to do it?" Cam suggested. "I'll have to call Hotch for the full case report anyway so we can figure out who's footing your bill, don't worry if you don't know everything."

"I do get paid for this, right?"

"Of course; the Jeffersonian budget probably stretches but I think we are supposed to be reimbursed by other agencies when they borrow staff like this."

"Thanks Cam."

"Not a problem," she smiled in reply. "Now I better leave you to sort all this out." A quick ping and she vanished from the screen, leaving Wendell once again alone in the big empty lab.

-x-

Usually when the BAU closed a case, there wasn't much more to do; they packed their bags and left, filing all their reports back at Quantico – someone might have to come back as an expert witness, but they left most of it to the locals. Here it was different though. They'd leave Mandridge to deal with the pedantries of the paperwork, sorting out victim's families and the press, whilst the BAU took the parts of the case which were linked to Gormogon.

There were the boxes from Maynard's house that they'd already brought to the police station, which all needed to be packed up and filed, taken back to the BAU and the Jeffersonian for further examination. Angela had made a very convincing argument that they should pack up the rest of Maynard's house. The Gormogon vault had kept revealing clues long after they had first found it, it was logical that there might be something more in the house that they were missing.

Hotch and JJ took care of the station and all the local police, smoothing everything over, leaving contact details and paperwork and making sure that they would be clear for take off that evening. Usually they got at least a bit of a break after a case, but this one they'd be in the next morning having to justify why they still needed resources on it, and Hotch thought most likely why no one had rearrested Zack yet. He was almost tempted to just set Reid on the first person who asked that.

The others all went over to the house to pack it up; they couldn't really demand any manpower from the locals to help with it. They'd technically got three extra pairs of hands – Angela, Anderson and Zack – but Reid threw a fit every time anyone attempted to make Zack lift a heavy box, and he was relegated to packing books into boxes.

After Reid snapped at Anderson for attempting this the second time, Angela steered the poor fellow away, shepherding him into the kitchen.

"Just look at them, they're practically sickening," Emily commented to Morgan as they stood in the doorway and watched as Reid handed Zack a fresh cup of tea.

"I dunno, Reid poured enough sugar in whatever he's holding to make anyone ill," Morgan said back.

"JJ said to remind you guys that you owe her money," Rossi said, coming up behind them, glad he'd stayed out of the stupid pool that the girls had set up on Reid's love life.

"I don't think we do," Emily replied. "I don't think he's got a clue, honestly. You should have seen him earlier. I think Hotch might have said something to him."

"Next time I get a chance and we're not horrendously busy, I'll ask," Rossi replied. "I'd like to get out of here before it gets dark though, so I'm going to continue." He gestured to all the boxes which they still have to move, and then wandered off.

Emily and Morgan stood watching though. Reid had sat down besides Zack now, pointing out titles in the library which he might find interesting, and they were both leaning into each other's personal space, shoulders touching, Zack had a hand gently atop Reid's leg.

"Someone really needs to give that boy a shove," Morgan commented.

"As much as I agree, this is Reid and Zack," Emily said. "I still don't know if it'd do more harm than good."

She hummed for a moment and then moved, grabbing a box and taking it down the hallway. Morgan followed her.

It didn't take them that much longer to get the house cleared, and there were no new exciting discoveries, though they never knew what might be important later on.

Wendell, over in Boston, had packed and labelled the last of the forensic evidence and had arranged for it to be shipped overnight to the Jeffersonian, and then had rejoined Hotch and JJ at the station once he'd thanked the BUSM department head for the use of their lab.

They actually managed to get everything together quicker than expected, and JJ negotiated for them to takeoff just a little bit earlier. Any extra time they could spend at home in their own beds was good.

It was a bit more of a squash to get everyone on the jet than usual, but Wendell and Angela were good natured and the food and drink and good company made up for it.

No one commented when Reid led Zack to the couch, or how in the space of five minutes they managed to go from sitting besides each other discussing mathematical equations to Reid sitting sideways, legs practically taking up the full length of the couch while Zack was curled into his side, head buried in the crook of Reid's neck.

Chapter Text

In which Zack and Reid return home and hot chocolate is made.

Reid and Zack were the last ones off the jet. Hotch instructed them all to have a lie in. He'd got an early meeting with Strauss arranged to decide the next course of action.

The team broke up and went their separate ways. Angela invited Zack and Reid over for a later dinner, but they declined. They waved her off as Morgan gave her a lift in an SUV. Zack threaded his fingers through Reid's as they walked to the nearest metro stop.

They picked up takeout from Spencer's favourite place. The two of them curled up on opposite ends of the couch to eat, legs tangling together to keep the contact between them; they ate in silence, not needing to talk as long as they knew each other was there.

Zack made both of them hot cocoa. Reid followed him into the tiny kitchen to watch him stir the milk into chocolate, letting the warmth swirl though. Zack didn't like his hands, the way they were still scarred from the explosion, but Reid knew it was intensely rewarding just to be able to do such simple tasks.

They stood in the kitchen, drinking, because neither of them wanted to disrupt; the kitchen didn't even have a window to look out of. Instead, they simply take comfort in the other's presence.

When the cocoa was finished, Zack moved to wash the mugs up, but Reid caught him by the wrist, fingers circling, and Zack stopped and placed the mugs down on the nearest surface. Reid took a step towards Zack, closing the distance between them.

"Are you going to be alright tonight?" he asked. His words were quiet in the silence; his fingers still wrapped tight around Zack's wrist.

Zack knew he couldn't leave Reid's question unanswered. He met Reid's eyes with his own and admitted, "I don't know."

And with that Reid pulled Zack close, tucking Zack's head under his chin, arms circling. Zack's hand clutched at the back of Reid's shirt, accepting all the comfort that the other man offered. He still wasn't prepared to admit all the fears that this case had dredged up in him, but at least with Reid he felt like it might all be okay.

"I'm here if you need me, Zack," Reid whispered into Zack's hair, and the other man nodded once. "Always," he added, though this was muffled and he doubted that Zack heard it.

It was late, later than either of them really wanted to think about, and Zack could feel his eyes closing and him leaning more of his weight on Spencer.

"We should get to bed," Reid said, when he noticed that he was the only thing holding Zack up.

"Yeah," Zack agreed. He extracted himself from Reid's arms, placed the mugs in the sink – they could sort them out in the morning – and then walked past Reid.

"Zack," Reid muttered, but Zack still heard it. He turned around to look back at Reid.

Zack waited a moment, expecting Reid to say something but the other man faltered. "Spencer?"

Zack's eyes were wide, staring deep at Reid. He ducks his head to avoid the intensity of Reid's gaze, not knowing what he wanted to say. Finally, he choked out, "Stay."

Zack's eyebrows raised for a fraction of a second, but Reid wasn't looking. Zack stood frozen, wondering what exactly Reid wanted from him.

Reid didn't say anything else. He just curled his fingers round Zack's and Zack followed him the short distance from the kitchen door to Reid's bedroom. Reid pulled him down onto the bed; their shoes had long gone and everything else seemed insignificant. What mattered was lying in the softness of the bed, touching, and having each other.

Their hands were still tangled together. Reid had one arm loosely round Zack and they were lying on top of the sheets because tumbling into bed properly just seemed like so much effort. At some point the clock had ticked its way over to the wrong side of midnight. "At least take off your tie, Spencer," Zack muttered as he rested his head on one of the pillows.

Reid groaned, and the next thing he knew was Zack's fingers vanishing from his and reappearing at his neck fumbling with the tie. Zack was close now, biting his lip as he struggled to loosen the fabric – which he managed slightly before Reid brought a hand up and grasped the tips of Zack's fingers, moved them and then removed the tie himself. "Happy now?" Reid whispered.

"Can we get under the covers?" Zack asked, but the smile he gave back – and Reid realised then just how close Zack was, their noses were almost brushing, he could feel the warmth of Zack's breath and Zack could no doubt feel his – said to Reid that, yes, there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

Reid grabbed the sheet. Zack moved so that Reid could pull it over the pair of them, a manoeuvre managed thankfully without any damaged limbs. They were apart for only a moment before Zack buried himself into Reid's chest, Reid slipping his arms round Zack – one on his waist, the other curling into the back of his head as he tucked Zack in under his chin. Zack's hands once again clasped at Reid's shirt, feeling the fabric, and then Reid's frame underneath, deceptively strong.

Reid tangled his fingers in Zack's hair. "Sleep," he said softly, and Zack replied with a murmur into Reid's shoulder that was completely unintelligible but it didn't really matter. "Sleep," Reid said again, rubbing smooth circles into Zack's back.

Zack's hands slowly unclasped from Reid's shirt as he drifted off. Reid continued to hold Zack, one of his hands fiddling with Zack's hair, as Zack's breathing slowed and he slackened completely in Reid's arms.

Reid placed a soft kiss on Zack's hairline, taking a moment to look at the peaceful, serene look on Zack's face. Zack's eyes flickered for a moment at the contact, but he didn't open them, only murmured before pressing a kiss in return on Reid's shoulder.

At another hour Reid might have questioned it. He wasn't completely oblivious to the changing nature of his relationship with Zack - or that every single person he knew seemed to also be aware. But it was late, and all actions at this hour could be excused. Reid wasn't ready to confront or admit any feelings for Zack; partially because he wasn't even sure he knew what he did feel for the man asleep in his arms.

Honestly, all he wanted to do right now was sleep.

And so he did, easily lulled to a calm by Zack's steady breathing, his own getting slower and slower until the rise and fall of their chests matched, 'til they were just a jumble of limbs overlocking limbs and all they had was each other and that was all they needed.

Zack didn't have a single nightmare that night, and neither did Reid.

Chapter Text

In which the BAU gathers to complete the profile, Angela laments not getting in on the betting pool and the Jeffersonian receives a large amount of guests.

It was half-past ten when the BAU stumbled in, coffee cups in hand. Reid brought Zack with him, thinking it pointless to wait for the official summons. Leaving Zack alone in the apartment made him feel uneasy.

Garcia, ever the mischief maker, grabbed Zack and dragged him to her office as soon as she saw him, promising sugary treats for both him and Reid later. Reid wasn't convinced it was worth it, despite knowing that no harm was going to come to Zack while he was in Penelope's care.

Garcia's kidnapping of Zack was well timed though. Hotch was gathering everyone to the conference room just as Reid sat down at his desk.

"Strauss has given us twenty-four hours to find an answer, or this case is going down as closed," Hotch said. "So I need the facts; what do we know?"

"Maynard abducted eight victims that do not fit the standard victimology of a Gormogon kill in eight months," Emily said. They were already pinned to an evidence board.

"In addition to twelve other victims which were part of the silver skeleton before that," Rossi added. "Seven bear one set of teeth marks, another five match the first set and Maynard's and the last victim bears just Maynard's handiwork."

"Garcia's ran missing persons and the files were sent over to the Jeffersonian; I believe they're attempting victim confirmation this morning," JJ said.

"We're meeting with the Jeffersonian team this afternoon to discuss that and other aspects of the case," Hotch said. "What else?"

"Both silver skeletons were made at the same time from the same lot of silver," Reid said. "But the silver screws were cast separately and more recently."

"So somewhere along the line Gormogon crossed paths with whoever Maynard was working with?" Morgan stood by the evidence boards, examining.

"There has to have been an interaction somewhere," Emily said. "But how did they come in contact?"

"It can't be a leak from the 2008 case. It wouldn't make any sense. Whatever was happening in Cambridge started before the Jeffersonian even cottoned on to what was happening here," Rossi said. The letters the team had found in the locker in Wellington were in front of him. "There's got to be something in these letters."

Reid reached across the table to grab a selection, and began reading. He'd been too busy worrying about Zack yesterday to actually get a good look at them. The conversation continued around him.

"Aside from the recent deviation from pattern, Maynard's stuck to the Gormogon ideology. Barabbas, the tarot cards, widow's children, anti-masonic literature; we've found it all," Morgan said.

"Is there any chance we can match the tarot cards with victims?" JJ asked.

"I think we should see what the Jeffersonian team has come up with first, and if that turns up nothing, we can look to the cards," Hotch replied.

-x-

Meanwhile, Zack was getting the third degree by Garcia in her office. She'd provided cookies and made him a mug of tea in an attempt to win him over, but was having limited success.

"Come on Zack, I saw you and boy genius this morning. You two were holding hands in the elevator."

Zack had decided the best strategy was to stay quiet. Any answer he gave was going to be twisted by Garcia to suit whatever she wanted.

"And the way you looked at him when I yanked you away. Something's going on."

Zack wanted to say that he looked at Reid like that every day, but even he knew how that would sound; and while he'd come to terms with how he felt about Spencer, Zack wasn't sure he was ready for anyone else to know.

Because as soon as someone else knew there was the danger of Spencer finding out and that would change their relationship forever. Even if by some chance that change was a positive one, Zack was reluctant to give up the friendship he relied upon so much. He couldn't risk not having Spencer.

On the other hand, Garcia didn't give up easily. Especially when she knew something was going on. The evidence kept mounting up. As if she didn't have enough of her own, JJ had shared what she had seen when she'd arrived home after that terrific night out they'd had. There was something between Reid and Zack and Garcia would get one of them to admit it.

Zack seemed like the easier target. "What happened between you guys last night?" More silence. "Oh come on Zack you've got to answer me at some point."

"I have many years of practice at this game between Angela and my seven siblings," Zack replied.

Garcia just beamed. "But see, you did answer me."

Zack furrowed his eyebrows. "But I didn't provide any answers to the questions you asked so I believe I am still winning."

Garcia chuckled. "Oh sure you are bone boy." Zack flinched when she chucked a sweet at him. "Now tell me what I wanna know or I can totally get blackmail on you somehow."

"Garcia, everyone I know knows I was imprisoned in a mental institution for aiding a cannibal serial killer. What can you get on me that's any worse than that?" Zack replied.

"Oh I dunno," Garcia had a rather evil look in her eyes. "So the footage of you shortly after you came out of the decontamination showers in the Jeffersonian with your friend many Christmases ago, I can send that to Reid?" She winked and Zack felt himself take in a sharp breath. "Or does he already know what you look like under all that?"

A final wiggle of the eyebrows and Zack had turned a deep shade of red. He could feel the heat emanating from his cheeks and really hoped no one walked in right now. "Please don't," he finally managed to get out, "and no, Garcia, he doesn't."

"Oh but you'd like him to." Garcia would have said a moment ago that it would have been impossible for Zack to go a darker shade of red but he seemed to have managed it. "Okay Zack you don't have to answer that one if you don't want to," she lowered her voice, "but you know it really isn't a problem if it's true."

At that Zack just sunk his head in his hands and attempted as best he could to ignore Garcia. "So what did happen last night? Come on, it can't be that mortifying."

Well, she was right, it wasn't. That didn't mean that Zack necessarily wanted to divulge the information, but if Garcia could find the footage from what, over six years ago, he didn't want to know what else she might find. But finding the words was harder than Zack thought it would be.

"We... Spencer asked me to stay. Last night. And the night before back in Cambridge we shared a bed as well. Sometimes after I have nightmares, he stays with me, so that I know he's there, but last night was different."

Now that Zack had started talking, Garcia just sat and listened. She didn't want to interrupt and risk Zack clamming up again.

"We were just, close, really, nothing happened, not that way," Zack wasn't even looking at Garcia but he still knew the look that she'd been giving him if he did meet her eye. "I suppose cuddling is the right word, but it just doesn't seem to cover it. I just—" He paused for a moment while searching for the right words. "I feel safe when I'm with him. Like I don't have to worry about anything ever again. I never thought I'd feel that."

Love, Garcia wanted to say, because to her it was obvious that that was how Zack felt; but she could see his vulnerability, see how even opening up this much to her was displaying more of himself that he did to most.

Also, she suspected that even if Zack couldn't put it into words, he knew what he was feeling wasn't just friendship.

"Come here," Garcia said, seeing Zack sink into himself. Zack, for once, did move forward and accepted the hug that Garcia offered. "You and Reid are good together, you know that?"

"Yeah," Zack said.

-x-

Cam knew that Angela and Wendell were shipping various pieces of evidence from the case that they'd worked on in Cambridge straight back to the Jeffersonian but she hadn't expected quite this many boxes. It was like the Gormogon vault all over again.

In retrospect she should have expected it. She should have asked for an inventory list. That at least would give her some idea of where to direct all the delivery men who kept placing boxes with unknown contents in front of her.

Luckily, Wendell arrived early, with clear instructions for where he wanted everything. Usually Cam disapproved of the interns taking charge, but she didn't have any better ideas than Wendell, who seemed to have storage of the overwhelming amount of evidence sorted. It meant Cam could get back to her morning ritual – coffee, her office, a quick walk across the mezzanine before the lab got up to speed and became a noisy bustling place full of murder and crime and horror.

Wendell had a stack of missing persons cases, and Cam knew that would be their morning – if not the next week until Seeley brought them another case – gone.

Dr. Brennan arrived with Booth in tow and Wendell was then occupied with bringing her up to speed. Cam sighed as she looked down on them and admitted defeat. It would all be over quicker if she just joined them.

"I concur that this file is the most likely match for Victim no. 3 but I'd like another look at Victim no. 5," Brennan said. Wendell didn't ask; he'd got two different files both which matched the parameters of that victim and if Brennan thought she could differentiate between them Wendell wasn't going to stop her. He handed her the files. "And where are the actual bones so I can examine them myself?"

Wendell didn't need prompting; they were still boxed up in the bone room. He had prioritised matching the victims before unpacking, but arguing with Brennan wasn't worth it so he dashed off.

Booth spent his time reading through the missing persons' files, some of which were more helpful than others. Often, only scant details were included.

And then Hodgins and Angela arrived, carting another box; this one full of books, and Cam hoped that this was only going to be temporary, or they were going to require another building to house all the evidence.

"Have you seen Wendell?" Angela asked, as Hodgins placed the box down on the nearest available surface that wasn't covered with crime-scene photos or missing persons' reports.

"He's in the bone room," Cam replied, "but I know a bunch of the boxes from earlier were placed in your office."

"Thanks," Angela smiled, and after a hello to Brennan and Booth, departed towards her office.

Hodgins followed her, picking up the box he'd earlier put down, and let out an appreciative sigh at the number of boxes in Angela's office. "Come on," Angela said to her husband, "we need to unpack all this."

"Can't we just wait until the BAU get here?" Hodgins asked, but he grabbed a knife off Angela's desk and began opening boxes anyway. "I'm sure we could at least rope Zack into helping."

"You'll have to get through Reid first," Angela replied, as she started taking books out of one of the boxes and stacking them against the wall of her office. "You should have seen him and Zack yesterday, Jack. I mean, I don't understand why they don't just jump each other already."

"Because Zack would never do it and I don't think Reid would either," Hodgins said. He'd found the candlesticks that Angela insisted were important to the investigation, and lifted them hesitantly out the box, raising an eyebrow at his wife. Angela just waved a hand back and Hodgins stacked them with the other miscellanies. "We've just got to leave them to it and hope they figure it out before they're old and grey."

"I wonder if anyone's gone for that option in the pool?" Angela and Hodgins both turned to look at their interloper. Wendell Bray was leaning against Angela's doorway. "Sorry, just passing through and couldn't help but overhear."

"They're betting on it?" Angela's voice was excited. "No one told me."

"Talk to the BAU, there's definitely something going on. JJ seems to think everyone owes her money for some reason," Wendell replied.

Angela groaned. "Why do I always miss these things? Though, if she wants money, that's gotta mean something happened?"

"I believe they're still arguing about it," Wendell replied. "Reid's acting weird though, something's up, but it could just be the case."

"It is weird man," Hodgins agreed with that one.

"The BAU's coming by this afternoon so we can go over everything again," Wendell added. "If we could find something before then it would be great."

-x-

It was Cam who had the task of greeting the BAU, even though Reid and Zack were both capable of escorting the team through the Jeffersonian buildings without her help. She recognised all of them from the various cases they've worked – Agent Hotchner was a well known face throughout the bureau, as was Jennifer Jareau; Emily Prentiss she knew by reputation. Penelope Garcia was Angela ramped up to eleven, the way Zack described her. David Rossi, well his fame proceeded him and she was fairly certain that Brennan had done at least one book signing with the guy before.

The other three, she knew already; Reid and Zack, of course, and Derek Morgan from his days back on Chicago PD.

The team chattered as they walked through the hallways, and then the glass doors which gave access to the Medico-Legal Lab. The Jeffersonian team were waiting there, in various states; Angela, Hodgins and Wendell were sitting down, while Brennan buzzed around some bones oblivious to their entry; Sweets had turned up less than ten minutes ago and was leaning against the platform's railing reading over a file whilst Booth paced nervously on the steps.

Cam stepped aside to let the two teams view each other. "BAU, this is Special Agent Seeley Booth, Dr. Temperance Brennan, Dr. Jack Hodgins and FBI psychologist Dr. Lance Sweets. You've already met Angela and Wendell." Each of the Jeffersonian team nodded when their name was mentioned, except Brennan who continued like nothing was going on.

Booth noticed that, and yelled an "Oi Bones," to her just as Hotch was about to introduce the rest of them.

"Where are we going to do this?" Reid asked Cam quietly while the teams were caught up in introductions.

"I was thinking the mezzanine," Cam replied, indicating the upper level. "It's the only place really big enough."

Reid nodded. When the introductions had finally been made – not that everyone was going to remember everyone else's names – Angela waylaid Morgan to carry a couple of things up from her office, and Wendell grabbed the box full of the Jeffersonian paperwork and they drifted up in drips and drabs. Reid paused to grab a cup of tea to calm him down; he thought that by the end of this discussion he was going to need it.

He was the last one to reach the mezzanine, and the others had started the discussion without him. Zack wasn't there; Hotch had presumably banished him somewhere, and Sweets was also missing. The most likely scenario was that the two were together and Hotch wanted a second opinion on just what Zack knew – though why he was trusting Sweets to see through Zack Reid didn't know.

"Wharton?" Hodgins clearly recognised the name.

"The letters keep referring to it," Rossi said back. "Does it mean something to you?"

"Peter, Duke of Wharton," Hodgins said, while everyone else looked blankly at him. "He was only the founder of the whole Gormogon movement." He was gesticulating wildly with his hands. "It means they're aware. Aware of where their ideology comes from. Zack always said that the Gormogon here didn't associate himself with the Gormogons but here we have proof that the rest of the movement does."

"But how does that help us?" Emily wondered aloud.

"The Gormogons are long extinct," Rossi added.

"Yeah the movement died with our aforementioned Peter in 1731. Or that's what they want you to think anyway. There's a figure named Tim Bobbins who's linked with the movement in the 1750s and then there are the medallions." Hodgins looked round expectantly, but still was met with blank looks. "Oh come on. There were Gormogon medallions being minted as late as 1799."

"Couldn't they just be a hoax?" JJ said.

Hodgins paused for a fraction of a second. "I mean they could be, but really. Who'd go to the trouble of producing coins for a defunct movement which only ever had two people linked to it in the 7 years it existed and a third twenty years later?"

Most of the BAU nodded and ummed in agreeance. "I presume the first is the Duke of Wharton," Hotch said. "Who was the second?"

"John Dennis, he was a eighteenth century poet and critic. There was an announcement posted in 1730 that he'd renounced the Gormogons in order to join the Freemasons but it's widely considered to be a hoax."

"Could he be the one who started all this?" Emily asked.

"I doubt it, he died four years later completely penniless and isolated," Hodgins said.

The BAU and the Jeffersonian team were silent for a moment. "So what is this?" Booth asked. "Do you think there might be more of these guys out there?"

"The correspondence stretches back a long time and is between multiple persons," Hotch said. "We believe the messages may be coded in some way, and if they share the same ideology we should assume that the likelihood of them killing in a similar way is high."

"Found it." The teams turned to Rossi, who had been rifling through the stack of letters since the first mention of Dennis. "There's a reference to a Dennis who has finally been put down in this letter. It's signed by the Wharton persona."

Morgan and Emily, who were closest, looked over Rossi's shoulder to read the letter.

"It's dated the 1st of June 2008," Emily said. "Isn't that when—"

"It's just after Zack was put away and Gormogon was killed," Cam said.

"You think they're referring to that?" Booth asked.

"If they see John Dennis as a figure who walked away from the movement, that could correspond with the Gormogon you found here. He didn't appear to have any links to anyone, while Maynard has these letters from at least seven different people," JJ said.

"We don't necessarily think that there are seven more Gormogon's out there," Rossi explained. "Some of the correspondence stops at a certain date and we can assume that some of it is passed from master to apprentice."

"Dennis Wharton."

Only Cam, who was closest heard, but her querying exactly what Reid had said attracted everyone else's attention.

"Dennis Wharton," Reid said again. "I thought it sounded familiar. I've had two letters delivered to my apartment both which were addressed to a Dennis Wharton. I just assumed they were misdirected, I didn't open them."

"Do you still have them?" Hotch asked, meeting Reid's eye across the room.

Reid thought. "I don't think so, I just assumed Zack had trashed them like we do with the rest."

At the mention of Zack's name Hotch stood up.

"You don't think?" Emily looked at Hotch, and then across at Reid.

"I think that Zack's not been telling us everything and whatever was in those letters might be the key to it," Hotch said, taking off across the mezzanine.

It took a moment, but then Reid lept out of his seat to follow Hotch, and slowly the rest of the BAU followed. Cam just sat, head in her hands, and Angela waited.

"He can't have known, could he?" Angela asked.

"I just don't know anymore," Cam answered.

Chapter Text

In which Hotch goes after Zack, Zack reveals all, Cam does good and Angela and Garcia revel in the gossip.

Zack was sat on the couch in Brennan's office talking calmly with Sweets when Hotch stormed in.

"The letters. What did they say?" Hotch demanded. He only raised his voice a fraction, but the anger coursing through it was clear.

"Hotch, please." Reid followed only seconds behind. He stood across from Hotch, eyes locked on his superior, desperately pleading. Hotch paid him no attention.

The rest of the BAU and the Jeffersonian hung back, Reid the only one daring to approach; every single one of them looked concerned. Sweets, balanced on Brennan's desk, wore a look of confusion.

Zack remained on the couch, wide-eyed, unable to respond. He couldn't look Hotch in the eye, so instead he focused on Reid, but Reid was too busy trying to keep Hotch under control to notice Zack.

"Zack." Zack flinched at the anger behind Hotch's words. "You've been receiving letters addressed to a Dennis Wharton. What did they say? Did you know that there were other Gormogon killers out there?" Zack was silent, and then opened his mouth, but nothing came out. "You've been hiding something this entire case."

Hotch's voice rang clear through the lab. Even Cam and Angela who had yet to descend from the mezzanine could hear every word he said. And still Zack sat there, unmoving, looking terrified.

Reid tore his gaze away from Hotch and onto Zack instead. Watching Reid crumble, Booth came forward. "Zack, if you know something you need to tell us."

"I could have you arrested and charged with obstruction of a Federal Investigation," Hotch said. Booth shot Hotch a wary look, but he didn't comment. "Zack if you don't say something in the next minute I will be forced to take you into custody."

That was when Zack broke; the strangled half cry he emitted made even Hotch pause, his features softened as Reid ran forward to grab Zack.

The only sound in the room was Zack's cries, muffled as Reid sat down beside him and pulled Zack into his shoulder, and Zack clung back, as Reid wrapped his arms around the other man, rubbing small circles in his back, and shooting a very angry look back at Hotch. No one else dared say a word.

When Zack calmed down enough to let the vice-grip he had on Reid slacken, Reid stood up and said, "I'm taking Zack to Angela's office. Hotch, if you think you can be civil, you can come with me, but give me ten minutes." Hotch nodded. "Angela, will you come with me? Cam, tea?" Reid's voice was gentler as he made his requests.

The crowd parted to let Reid and Zack out of Brennan's office. Zack stayed close to Reid, leaning into his shoulder, and Garcia would later swear that she saw their hands and fingers tangle together.

Rossi approached Hotch. "You don't think there was a better way to do that?"

"We've asked him all these questions before and he's not given straight answers, Dave," Hotch replied. "I'm not wrong about this."

"You might well be, but it would be nice if Reid was still willing to talk to us after it," Rossi said.

-x-

Angela's office, while more full of clutter and boxes than Brennan's, was far more welcoming. And unlike the open glass front to Brennan's office, Angela's was far enough from the lab to give it a modicum of privacy.

Reid ended up being the only one with Zack; Angela and Cam had gone to find tea, and maybe biscuits, something to cheer Zack up.

"He was only trying to do his job," Zack told Reid as they settled on the couch.

"He didn't have to speak to you like that though," Reid said in return. He'd seen Hotch get angry before, attempts to get a rise out of suspects and victims, but he'd never expected it here.

Zack ducked his head under Reid's gaze; he didn't really know what to do with Reid defending him against Hotch. Reid took out his hand and cupped the side of Zack's face, tilting it back up so Zack's eyes meet his. Zack couldn't fight the slight blush that rose in his cheeks.

"If you knew anything you'd tell me right?" Reid said softly.

That was the moment Angela arrived with the tea, but she stopped at her office door when she caught sight of them. Hotch, coming in behind her, found himself hovering just outside; just close enough to hear what Reid and Zack were saying.

"Spencer." Zack moved out of Reid's grasp, and Reid instinctively edged forward to initiate contact again but Zack just moved further back. "Hotch is right. I did read those letters."

It was Reid's turn to recoil. "What did they say?" he asked cautiously.

"I can't tell you."

"You can tell me anything you know that," Reid said.

"I can't tell you about this. It doesn't matter."

"You have to tell me Zack. You have to."

"I can't and I won't."

Zack's voice was almost a yell, and Hotch moved to go and separate the pair, but Angela held up a hand and whispered "wait."

"Zack." Reid's voice quivered, and he didn't know whether to lean forward into Zack or to back away. Eventually he decided to stand, looking down at Zack. It was then that he caught sight of Hotch and Angela at her door. "Please."

"I won't put you in danger," Zack said. He was holding his head in his hands and his voice was so low Reid barely heard it.

Reid dropped to his knees in front of Zack. "What do you mean?"

"Reid?" Hotch asked, Angela finally letting him into the office. "What did he say?"

"That he'll put me in danger," Reid said, turning to Hotch, brow furrowing. He turned back to Zack, attempting to peel Zack's hands away from his face. "Zack?"

Zack was wide eyed. "I can't say anything you already know too much they'll hurt you if you know too much."

"Zack, calm," Reid reminded, noting Zack's rapid breathing, the slight clamminess of his hands. "We're the FBI, we can all look after ourselves, we can look after you, we can make sure everyone's okay."

"But you can't, not against them, they know too much, they found me, they found you, they won't let me go." Zack had started rocking, barely noticing that there was anyone else in the room.

"Reid." Hotch motioned for Reid to move, and he did so, if reluctantly, so that Hotch was the one kneeling in front of Zack. Reid stayed close, hovering at the side, within touching distance if Zack needed him. "Zack, you need to tell me who they are."

"You know already, you know, you all know too much."

Reid shot a concerned look at Hotch, and then over at Angela, who had remained standing at the door. She placed the mugs she was still holding on a table, and then turned and left, shutting the office door behind her. "The Gormogons? The people who sent Maynard all those letters?" Hotch asked.

Zack nodded, but then started shaking his head rapidly. "They can't find out, they can't find out you all know, they'll kill you."

Hotch didn't know how to respond to that one. Angela's office door creaked though, and he looked up to see Cam Saroyan enter, with Sweets behind her. Cam had a glass of water and seemed to be clutching something else in her other hand. "It'll be okay Zack, we can help you," Hotch said, just hoping to keep him calm and distracted.

Reid also glimpsed Cam, and lent over to take Zack's hand, his thumb making reassuring circles over Zack's palm. "I'm here right now, and I'm safe, you can see?" he said.

It was enough that Cam could get close enough to Zack. "Hey Zack." She passed him the glass of water, and Reid then saw the pills she had in her other hand. "Take these," she said, offering them up to him. Zack dropped Reid's hand to take them, swallowing efficiently. "It's all going to be okay, Zackaroni."

Zack sipped at the water, nodding. Reid watched as his breathing slowly evened out. A hand smoothed over Zack's hair, Zack closed his eyes. Reid made sure he was comfortable on the sofa before backing away to join the others.

"What did you give him?" Reid asked.

"Mild sedative," Cam answered. "It'll hopefully calm him down enough that we might get something out of him."

"Why?" Hotch felt the need to ask. Zack didn't seem the type to need sedating, though seeing the display that had just happened... he was thinking that maybe he needed to reconsider his opinions on Zack Addy.

"Zack didn't have many incidents while he was hospitalised," Sweets said, from the door. "But calming him down after he'd worked himself up into a fit like that, usually proved to be impossible."

Reid did not look happy with the turn of events, but there wasn't much he could do. Hotch observed his younger subordinate carefully. "If it's any consolation Reid," Hotch said, "I think we might have found the source of Zack's nightmares."

"I've never seen him so terrified," Reid replied, and Hotch thought that in that moment it was Reid who looked the most scared. "Whoever these people are, they've got him completely spooked."

Reid looked carefully around at the small group that had gathered; he was still wide eyed and shocked. Sweets handed him one of the now luke-warm mugs that Angela had left on the side, and Reid took it gratefully. "Can I stay with him?"

Hotch was reluctant to break the pair up, but Reid was needed for the profile. Hotch also suspected that Zack might disclose more without Reid around. "Reid, I need you to help compile the profile.I agree, but we need you. Cam, can someone be found to watch him?"

"I think Mr. Vaziri was due in this afternoon to do some research, I'm sure he can do it just as well from Angela's office," Cam said.

"Thank you," Hotch said.

-x-

"How is he?"

Surprisingly, it was Brennan who surged forward to ask the question. The others were sitting back up in the mezzanine, Jeffersonian and BAU separated; the Jeffersonian team worrying about Zack, while the BAU's concern was for Reid.

Brennan had aimed the question at Reid, but it was Cam who answered. "He's fine, we had to sedate him, but he'll be alright."

"Reid?"

Reid, who had kept his eyes down, avoiding everyone – he'd relied on Hotch to make sure he got up the stairs safely – looked over at Garcia, who'd asked the question. It was clear that she was concerned, but when she saw the grief in Reid's eyes she could have wept.

"He knew." The quiet suddenly became a harsh silence. "He knew and he was too afraid to tell me."

He sank onto a spare couch, JJ by his side, lending a reassuring shoulder.

"They contacted Zack in an attempt to scare him into not telling us anything," Hotch said. "It's why Zack hasn't been telling us anything. He's terrified."

"We can protect him though," Booth said. "I've kept him safe before, between all of us we can make sure he's alright."

"It's not him he's worried about," Cam said. She was still standing, with Sweets, behind Hotch, arms crossed and concerned for her team. "Reid, back when you were getting Zack out, you said something about how Zack had lied about killing Mr. Porter in order to protect us."

Reid looked up at Cam. His eyes were red, and JJ had her arm looped round him. "He figured it would be easier for you if you thought he'd betrayed everything. Taken a human life."

"What if it wasn't just that. What if he was actually protecting us?" Cam said. "What if he knew what was out there?"

"I don't think he knew about the proliferation until recently," Hotch said. "Reid, when did you say his nightmares began getting worse?"

"They started getting really bad three and a half weeks ago."

"When did you receive the first letter?"

"Three and a half—" Reid stopped. "Oh."

"We won't know for sure until we can actually get it out of him, if we manage to get him speaking sense at all," Hotch said.

"I agree with Hotch; Zack seemed genuine when we interviewed him. He was off but I don't think he had any idea about the scale of this," Emily added.

"How big could this be, Hotch?" JJ asked.

Hotch looked stern, worried, lips pursed into his constant frown. "Bigger than we thought."

-x-

Everyone split off. Together, they were too large to do an effective job. Rossi grabbed Hodgins, Sweets and JJ and set off to profile the letters; until Reid got his head in it, Hodgins was their best bet at cracking any code that might be hidden in the letters.

Emily took Brennan and Wendell, determined to identify each of the victims before Maynard's changed his victim pool; they'd already made significant progress, but Emily needed to note it down, and then work victimology – see how closely it aligned with the D.C. victims.

Garcia had gotten a whole crop of information and a fair few suspects on who Maynard's master could have been, and handed them off to Morgan, and Booth elected to join him in combing through the files. It seemed most like the work he was comfortable with, but around the profilers and the overqualified Jeffersonian team he felt decidedly out of place, and he knew he was outranked by practically all of the BAU.

After Garcia had handed Morgan the information, she joined Angela and Reid, who were going to see if they could identify an origin point for any of the letters; they'd got the scans Garcia had made earlier back at the BAU.

Cam took responsibility for Reid; though she felt comfortable that Arastoo Vaziri would come and get her the moment Zack showed any sign of being ready to talk, she'd feel much better by his side. Hotch also felt responsible, and was weighed down by the burden of needing to know what Zack knew. Cam refused to have him hovering and sent him to help Emily work victimology.

While Angela really intended to get working on the origins of all those letters – handwriting analysis, linguistics, paper type; they even had a couple of envelopes with postmarks on that might be of some use – she was aware that there were more pressing issues. The first being the fact that Zack was currently sedated on her couch, and the second being that Reid was not really in a state where he could be any use to anyone.

That was partly the reason why Angela had taken him aside. The main platform of the lab was taken up by Brennan and Wendell and all the evidence; Booth had claimed Bren's office for him and Morgan; Hodgins' group had somehow piled into his workshop of the side of the lab. Seeing as how Cam was the reason Angela's office was currently out of commission, Angela decided that the only appropriate response was to commandeer Cam's.

Which was good, because Cam's office was closest to the kitchen, so Reid got another steaming cup of tea before they sat him down. He mumbled a quick thanks when Angela gave it to him, and then returned to his zoned out state.

In fairness, Angela was feeling pretty useless without access to the Angelator, so there wasn't much Reid could be doing. Despite the fact that moping on Cam's couch definitely wasn't the way to spend his time, Angela and Garcia couldn't see a way to snap him out of it.

"Hopefully Zack'll come round soon," Angela said. She and Garcia had selected to sit on the other side of Cam's office, on the off chance that Reid was paying enough attention to overhear their conversation. At this point they thought they could probably yell right in front of him and he wouldn't be able to tell what they were saying.

"I don't think that'll make it any better," Garcia replied. "He'll just start worrying about how he's doing and how he could be helping and honestly, Reid will not be of any use to anyone."

"If your boss wants to get anything out of Zack, he's going to have to perform a miracle," Angela said. "I've never seen him like that before. He watched news break of his own death with a sense of morbid curiosity. He blew himself up and sat in hospital completely calm while knowing that we were going to realise his involvement with a serial killer. This is completely different."

"I thought getting anything out of him this morning was bad and then my only obstacle was his own embarrassment," Garcia said.

Angela looked over. "Do tell."

"Well, as I'm sure you've noticed, our boy wonder over there and your boy genius have become remarkably close. And this morning I will swear they were holding hands. I swear. Anyway, I managed to pull Zack aside and eventually after an awful lot of blushing on his part, managed to work out that they spent most of last night cuddling. And apparently this isn't the first time it happened either." Garcia managed to pull a smile back on her face despite the horror hanging over the entire lab.

"Wendell said something about you guys having bets on it?"

Garcia giggled. "It's just silly really. Seeing as how neither of them seems to be willing to actually get it together. There's not much in it."

"But why does JJ think she's won?"

Garcia gave Angela a look expressing confusion at Angela's knowledge of the situation, but then she shook her head and got back to the question at hand. "She says she caught Zack and Reid cuddling on her couch after we had a particularly drunken girl's night out, and then that Reid kissed Zack on the forehead. Seeing as how her money was on Reid being as aware of his feelings as Zack is she reckons she's got it."

"You think Zack's aware of his feelings?" Angela looked shocked.

"I think he's got an inkling. Even if he doesn't want to tell anyone," Garcia said. "Our boy wonder deserves some love, and I think Zack does too, if only they'd actually wise up and tell each other."

"Because that's so totally going to happen," Angela replied. "Hodgins says to leave them be but we could be here for years."

"This case might give them the incentive they need," Garcia said. "You never know. Stranger things have happened."

Both women looked over at Reid, who was gazing out of Cam's window. He was still clutching at his mug, but he'd drunk most of the tea out of it at this point. The afternoon sun danced through the window, hitting Reid's features softly. He looked almost calm like that, but Garcia could tell her boy was still on edge. There was a slight tremor in one of his legs, his nerves clearly still there.

"I sure hope so," Angela replied. "At least then one good thing would have come of this whole mess."

Garcia nodded. There was a lull, while she thought on what to say next, but it turned out that she didn't really need to get there. Cam's office door swung open.

"Hey Arastoo," Angela said as she saw who it was.

"Mr. Addy is talking," Arastoo said. "Cam said to let you know, and the FBI Agent asked if you could give them a bit before checking on him."

Well that would be Hotch, reminding Reid that he couldn't come rushing to Zack's side. "Thanks," Angela said, and Arastoo closed the door behind him.

"Well, he's calmed down, that's a good start," Angela said.

Garcia wasn't so convinced. "Yeah, but what happens now?"

Chapter Text

In which Hotch finally gets to the bottom of it, Brennan starts being useful, and Reid finds that he can't quite solve everything.

"Hey Zack, are you alright?"

Zack blinked again, bleary eyed and not really sure what was going on. He could see Cam hovering close, but beyond that he didn't know.

"Cam?" he asked, looking around for any clue of what was going on; he didn't find one. Angela's office was empty, save for Cam. "What happened?"

Cam looked concerned, like she didn't know what to say. "You worked yourself up into a fit. Terrified us. Sweets recommended we sedate you." There was more too it, Zack could tell.

He remembered then, taking the pills and the glass of water Cam offered. Hotch before, asking him, and then Reid, kneeling before him, a look of tenderness and concern. "Reid?" Zack looked around again; surely Reid was there.

Cam noticed the increase in agitation, and placed a reassuring hand on Zack's shoulder. "He's with Angela and Garcia in my office," she explained. "He's fine, you can see him soon."

Part of Zack just wanted to run to Reid, bury himself deep in the other man's arms, and never face the world again; and then there was the part of him, the part that was terrified, that just wanted to push Reid away and keep him safe because Zack had never done anyone good.

Cam didn't demand an answer from him, just let him sit in silence, softly smiling at him. Zack was grateful, not feeling up to conversation.

Zack's feeling of relaxation didn't last long. Within a couple of minutes Agent Hotchner was at the door of Angela's office, sweeping into the room with all of his FBI unit chief demeanour. "Zack," he said, voice steady; without the harshness it had had in Brennan's office, but it didn't have the gentleness and comfort that it had in Angela's office earlier. "We need to talk about what you know. Would you like Cam to stay?"

Hotch honestly thought that it would be better doing this one-on-one, but he also knew that Zack was feeling vulnerable. Hotch was likely not someone he wanted to talk to right now. "Can you stay?" Zack said to Cam, looking at her instead of Hotch.

"Of course Zackaroni," she answered.

Hotch was thankful that it was Cam in there, and not anyone else. The Jeffersonian boss was a professional woman, brilliant at her job and knew when to step back and let someone else do theirs – like now, when she distanced herself, making sure Zack could still see her and talk to her and yet the focus was on Hotch – and yet still provide comfort for her team. There was a way that Zack looked at her; it was different to the way he looked at Reid, sure, but there was still a level of affection and safety and Zack knew that Cam would try to keep him safe, and that was important.

He focused his attention back to Zack. "Zack, I need you to answer my questions honestly. That's the most important thing. If you don't know something, tell me you don't know. If you don't want to answer something, tell me that you don't want to answer it." The things Zack can't – or won't – answer are just as important as the ones he does.

"I understand," Zack said.

"Good," Hotch nodded. He tried to look welcoming, tried to set Zack at ease but he knew at heart that it wasn't going to be very effective. "Keep your answers concise if possible. Were you aware of the wider Gormogon network when you were conspiring with Gormogon in 2008?"

"No."

"Did you have any suspicions that there might be something larger at play?"

Zack cocked his head, confused. "The Gormogon ideology which I believed in says that the killings were part of a master plan which would change the word. And yet I do not think that is what you are referring too. I had no idea that there might be others out there, however the expanse of knowledge and artefacts we recovered pointed to a bigger movement."

"Zack, concise," Hotch reminded. "Did you know that there were other Gormogon serial killers before we went to Cambridge?"

"I had no definitive evidence but I suspected that there were since the arrival of the letters."

"Did you knowingly withheld any information that would have led to the apprehension of Carl Maynard?"

"No." Zack was definite about that answer.

"Do you know the identities of any others who have identified themselves as part of the Gormogon movement?"

"No."

"Have they made any threats against anyone specifically?"

"No, just the people I care about."

"That's good," Hotch said. Zack didn't look convinced. "It means they don't actually know anything about your life, they probably aren't watching you." Zack still looked confused. "Zack, anyone observing you and Reid for even a minute can tell he means the world to you. The easiest way to hurt you would be to threaten Reid directly. Have they ever done that?"

"No," Zack replied. "But they know where we live."

"Your residence is stored in half a dozen federal files; the police have it on record, the DA's office have it, there's a dozen ways they could get their hands on your address," Hotch said. He didn't like the ease at which it had happened but it wasn't like unsubs had never gotten their hands on the team's personal information before. "Do you still have the letters?"

"I burnt them," Zack said. He saw the fall in Hotch's face though, and then added, "I know my memory isn't as perfect as Spencer's, but it is near photographic. Even if it wasn't I believe the contents of the letters would stay in my mind for a very long time."

-x-

Emily was fairly certain that they now had matches for twelve of the victims which Maynard and his old master had killed before Maynard had lost it and started the spree. Temperance Brennan was brilliant as a forensic anthropologist, but had no talent for working victimology, though she was trying her best to help.

Emily also knew that Reid had put most of the blame for what had happened with Zack four years ago at her feet, and Brennan was desperate to prove that was not the case. Emily could see her biting her tongue as she wanted to decry profiling as guess work. Add to that a Hotch who didn't know if he was coming or going and Emily was damn thankful when Arastoo Vaziri popped by with the news that Zack was talking and Hotch finally disappeared.

Wendell was helpful though: he had no training in profiling, but he was smart, people-savvy and had been watching Reid and the BAU and how they worked. He got what Emily was looking for.

As news of Zack talking spread round the Jeffersonian, the calm that had descended was broken. Reid had taken to pacing up and down the halls between the platform and the office, Angela and Garcia alternating between watching him and gossipping between themselves.

"Wendell, what's the age on Victim Seven again?"

Emily didn't like reducing victims down to numbers, but learning twelve names in the space of thirty minutes when her mind was occupied with other things just wasn't going to happen.

"Forty-two," Wendell replied. "That's right in the middle, right?"

"Yes." A reasonably consistent picture was emerging. Older victims than Maynard's spree choices, who seemed to have been chosen for their ease, convenience and prevalence. The youngest victim they'd found within the original set was twenty-five. They were mostly men, with a single woman in the mix. Each with a mother who had been widowed (or at least abandoned. Seemed like the Gormogons weren't fussy about the state of a marriage.)

They'd had Garcia look for links to Freemasonry when she'd originally done her victim search, and eight of them had been linked to their local lodge, one to the Knights of Columbus and Emily was fairly certain that given enough digging they'd find something in the other three's history that linked them in some way to the Freemasons.

"So what does this achieve?" Brennan asked.

"We need to know who they are targeting. How Maynard's spree victims differed. How this set of victimology differs from the original victimology," Emily explained. "If we know the pattern we can possibly use it to track down the other members of the cult."

"We found him."

Emily turned around to see Morgan leaping up the platform steps, brandishing a file. Agent Booth followed, jumping up the stairs effortlessly.

"Jonathan Milton. Died nine months ago, lived in Boston, fifty-five years old. No priors but a number of complaints from employers about anti-social behaviour. Used to work in a mentoring program which Maynard was involved with."

Emily took the file from Morgan, flicking through it to see if there was anything useful in there. "He was a computer tech. Would have made finding victims easier."

"Exactly. There's a couple of articles he's written about the dangers of Freemasonry as well, there's definitely scope for those to expand into Gormogon ideology," Morgan replied.

"So, we've got this guy, but he's dead. What now?" Booth asked.

"We wait for Hotch to see what he can get out of Zack, see how much he knows, and then we track down the people who sent Maynard and Milton the letters and hope that they haven't wracked up too much of a body count," Emily said.

"Rossi's still going with those letters, there's got to be more in there that we haven't found yet," Morgan added.

There was a pause, and it was just enough for them to hear the door to Angela's office click open. Reid heard too, and stopped his pacing along the corridor. They could all see Hotch, opening the door, and then ushering Zack out. Emily noted how pale he looked. Vulnerable.

He met Reid's eyes, Emily could see, but then ducked his head, and Reid didn't press the issue. But Hotch gave a solid look back, and Reid nodded, turning back to Angela and Garcia, understanding something that Emily doesn't quite get. Something had happened, and Emily just hoped it was good.

-x-

Hotch led Zack to Hodgins' office, and made him wait outside until he brought both Sweets and Rossi back out. "Zack, with Sweets please." Zack nodded and made his way over to his psychologist. "Dave, with me." Hotch also grabbed Brennan and Booth from the forensics platform, and Cam was already waiting in Brennan's office.

Cam was sitting on the couch, and Rossi sat in the armchair across from it, and Booth attempted to make Brennan sit down only she refused, so her, Booth and Hotch remained standing.

"Well?" Booth asked.

"Zack had no idea that there were more people out there under the Gormogon ideology until he received the letters three and a half weeks ago," Hotch said. "I believe he's telling the truth. They've threatened to harm anyone who he cares about if his silence is broken. We need to make sure none of this leaves those already on the case."

"Of course," Cam said. "I'll make sure everyone knows."

"If he's threatening people Zack cares about, that puts Reid directly in the firing line," Rossi commented.

"The threats made in the letters are extremely vague. I don't think they are watching very closely," Hotch said. He handed Rossi two pieces of paper which have what Zack remembered of the letters on.

"I agree," Rossi said, looking them over. "Anyone who had been watching would know that a direct threat to Reid would work best."

"Exactly. I think they're trying to spook Zack rather than actually being concerned," Hotch said. "Zack doesn't know much anyway."

"But they've certainly spooked him," Cam added. "He's terrified."

"Why would they risk exposing themselves in this way?" Booth wondered. Hotch, Cam and Rossi, who had been having a conversation mostly between themselves, shifted their attention back to the other pair in the room. "We didn't even know they existed until they sent Zack the letters and you found Maynard."

"It was only a matter of time before someone put the pieces together on Maynard," Hotch replied. "He was devolving and making such a number of mistakes that even without us the Massachusetts' State Troopers would have got him relatively quickly. Whether they'd have made the connection to the Gormogon case as quickly as we did would depend, but someone would have made it eventually."

"But what do they gain by threatening Zack?" Brennan asked. "And why would they threaten Reid specifically, why not all of us, we're his family?"

Everyone looked in Brennan in confusion. "Bones," Booth said, turning to his partner. "Zack's in love with Reid."

Brennan seemed to stumble for a moment. "But Zack's not—"

"I don't think that matters," Booth said. "Reid is the person Zack cares about the most. Hotch and Rossi are right, he's the one to go after."

"Whatever Reid and Zack's relationship is isn't important," Hotch said firmly. "Right now my priority is first to make sure Zack is safe, and then to track down whoever else is involved with this and shut the entire network down. Has Zack ever reacted like this before to stress?"

"Never while I've known him," Cam said.

"He was upset when we confronted him over Gormogon," Booth added, "but not on this scale."

"He was in severe pain then," Brennan said. "There was a lot of morphine running through his system."

"Zack never really did upset," Booth said. "Annoyed, frustrated, confused, but never upset."

"He handled your death best out of all of us," Cam added, and Rossi and Hotch both looked at each other and wondered just what happened, but decided that breaking up the discussion wasn't worth it.

"I think that might just have been because he was preoccupied," Booth said back, and Cam knew what he meant.

"He was distressed when we thought we'd run out of time to save you and Hodgins," Cam said to Brennan.

"That was before he went to Iraq," Brennan said.

"It all comes back to Iraq," Booth said. "You wouldn't work with me for three months because I let him go," he said to Brennan. "What was I supposed to say, tell him he couldn't go. He didn't need us babying him, he needed to go out and prove something."

"We were wrong," Cam said. "I agreed with you Seeley, that he needed to spread his wings but we should have kept closer tabs on him while he was there, and looked after him better when he came back."

"We knew he came back different, we never thought he'd aid a serial killer," Booth said.

Hotch could see a fight waiting to happen, so he stepped in. "What happened in Iraq?"

Booth, Cam and Brennan looked at each other. "The President asked a number of forensic anthropologists to go to Iraq to help the military identify remains," Brennan said. "I got a letter as well, but I decided my work at the Jeffersonian was more important."

"For Zack though, it was the first time he'd been given a purpose outside the Jeffersonian. He decided to go, didn't consult anyone," Cam said.

"He asked me what it was like to be in the military," Booth said, "and all I could think was that if he'd have asked me before the day before he went, I could have prepared him so much better. Six months out there was rough, I'd know."

Hotch did know, about Booth's former career as a US Army Sniper, and his recent stint in Afghanistan training up new recruits. "He was sent back after three months. They judged him detrimental to their team approach." Cam was choked up. "What does that even mean?"

"I remember when he walked back into the lab," Brennan said. "We'd just got the Gormogon case and I was trialling a new assistant and then he just walked through the door, still in uniform, with his bag over his shoulder. He'd come straight back to the Jeffersonian."

"You could tell he was different," Booth said. "We never really talked about it, but it was there."

"He had symptoms of PTSD," Cam explained. "We should have known something was up when he got back together with Naomi, they'd been broken up for months before he went."

"Reid was right, we should have noticed," Brennan added. "I'd worked alongside Zack for four years and still I couldn't tell."

"He didn't want us to know," Cam said. "He just wanted to slot back in, for things to be back like they were before he left and he fell apart when he realised that they weren't going too."

Hotch had heard the PTSD comment and the conversation had stopped there for him, despite the fact that he was well aware that they were still talking. He looked at Rossi and could see that he'd noted the same thing, brow furrowed.

"Has he ever received treatment for PTSD?" Hotch asked.

Cam, Booth and Brennan stopped their chatter.

"Not that I'm aware of," Cam said, after a moment of silence. "Sweets would be the one to ask, but I don't think so."

Hotch glanced over at Rossi. He wondered if Reid was aware. Now that Cam had mentioned it, he could see the tiny hints of it that had emerged over the past twenty-four hours, and it was just one more problem that they'd have to deal with.

-x-

It was getting late, and all Hotch wanted to do was send everyone home. But he also knew that he needed something concrete to hand to Strauss tomorrow to persuade her that they needed to stay on this case and somehow Hotch didn't think that a terrified Zack Addy was going to quite do the trick.

He sent JJ home though, after her phone rang a second time and she attempted to make her apologies but Hotch knew that she had Henry and Will waiting at home and there wasn't anything in particular she could do. Angela and Hodgins had had to rescue their son from the daycare, but he was currently sleeping quietly in Angela's office so wasn't really a problem, and Booth had persuaded Brennan that it would be a good idea if she took a nap on her couch.

The other person Hotch was concerned about was Zack, who was looking even more pale than usual, and exhausted, but he would not leave without Reid. And Hotch needed Reid to help break the letters.

Rossi, Sweets, JJ and Hodgins had been having some success, before Hotch had pulled Rossi and Sweets out the group and no more headway had been made. Morgan and Booth identifying Jonathan Milton as Maynard's master would help, and Angela and Garcia were running handwriting samples through as many databases that they could find, but everyone knew that finding a match was extremely unlikely, and wouldn't hold up in court.

They were also running the postmarks, but they weren't having much luck there, either. One had passed through Las Vegas, the other Detroit, both cities with large transient populations where tracking anyone would be difficult.

Names kept cropping up; letters signed as simply Wharton, who seemed to be the leader of the movement, another set of letters signed by a "Bobbins" and a more recent set signed "Collier". Hodgins had informed them of the names associations with the Gormogon movement, though no one had ever ascertained whether they were real people.

Reid was sitting in front of a whiteboard, pen in hand, deep in thought. Zack was sitting besides him, close; shoulders sides thighs, there was no getting between them. Morgan and Emily were running up profiles based on what they had – seven different authors, seven different profiles, seven people to pick from all over the country. It was difficult enough to find the right person in just a single city, and lurking over their heads was the fact that the D.C. Gormogon and his last apprentice had never even been identified they were so far off the grid.

Cam was sat with autopsy results in her hands. She was spending most of her time with an eye trained on Zack though, so they weren't being read. Rossi had taken Milton's file and was pouring over it with Agent Booth's help.

Everyone was talking quietly, so when Reid tossed his pen to the floor it made quite a crash. Everyone turned to look at him; he'd jumped off the desk he'd been sitting on, and Zack had gone even paler as Reid paced in front of the whiteboard.

"Reid?"

"I can't crack it," Reid said back to Hotch. "I can't."

"You've cracked codes for us before Reid," Hotch reminded him, trying to be calming. Reid was on trigger edge, Hotch could tell, and the last thing they needed was Reid falling to pieces.

"Yeah but then I always had a clue to how they were encoding their messages," Reid said. "I wasn't kidding when I said I'd need a years supply of adderall and the ability to clone myself to break the angelmaker code, we got lucky on that one."

"Then solve this one the same way you did that, by profiling them," Hotch said.

"There's only one cipher that's been conclusively linked to freemasonry and that's the masonic or pigpen cipher; it doesn't look like this," Reid replied. He looked over to Hodgins.

"I've got nothing as well; I can think of lots of masonic codes but none of them involve hiding words within words," Hodgins said.

"Have you run whatever the Angelmaker used?"

"The Francis Bacon code? There are hundreds of variations, I've ran some of them but it hasn't yielded any results and I'd be surprised if it did. Hotch I could be here for years trying to break this if we can't find some clue as to how they've encoded it, and frankly I don't think we've got that sort of time." Reid glanced over at Zack as he said the last part.

"I know," Hotch said back. He looked around, taking in everyone's weary faces. "Everyone, go home. I'll deal with Strauss, we're staying on this case, the potential body count is too high for her to ignore."

There were thankful smiles offered at Hotch as everyone moved to leave. Hotch wanted to check that Reid and Zack got home alright – he'd thought about putting protection on Reid's apartment but at the point the argument it would cause just wasn't worth it – but by the time he was ready, Cam had already got them bundled up and in her car.

So instead, it was Dave who grabbed Hotch, and it was them who had to gather up the boxes and files and take them back to Quantico.

Chapter Text

In which Hotch and Rossi debate Zack's mental state, Reid makes hot chocolate, Zack wonders quite how they've ended up here and Garcia gets a hit on some handwriting.

Hotch and Rossi only intended to drop the files back at the BAU. But then Dave found the bottle of scotch he kept in his office and they ended up on Hotch's chairs having a stiff drink. After the day they'd had, it was no wonder.

Hotch downed his first glass before pouring himself a second. Rossi shot him a look of concern. "Rough day?"

Hotch took a sip of his drink before answering. "You should have seen Zack," he said, thinking back to the horror he'd seen in Zack's eyes, the concern and hurt that had been mirrored in Reid's. "I'm amazed that he could sit there at the end of the day and listen to us discuss it."

"Only attached to Reid as a safety blanket, though," Rossi commented, and Hotch had to admit it was true. "That's not healthy."

"I know," Hotch replied. "But if Cam's right and he's got five years of untreated PTSD I'm amazed that he's held it together as well as he has. He's seeing a bureau psychiatrist tomorrow morning, no matter what fight he or Reid put up."

"Why are we only hearing of this now?" Rossi asked. "Surely it would make it into his file?"

"Remember how little information we got sent when Strauss originally handed us the files? Nothing on him was written down, they didn't want it in the system, they thought the best way was to handle it themselves."

"And we've seen how well that went." Rossi placed his drink down on the table. "We need to make sure Reid doesn't take too much of this on, Aaron, it's not just Zack that's close to breaking point."

"You think I don't know that?" Hotch responded. "I've spent half my day watching them out of their minds with concern for the other. Zack isn't terrified about what they'll do to him, he's terrified of what they'll do to Reid. I knew that sending Reid off with Zack's case file was a bad idea, but I never thought it would get this far." Hotch reached for the bottle. Rossi took it, paused a moment, and then poured Hotch a small measure.

"None of us did," Rossi said as he placed the bottle out of Hotch's reach.

Hotch knocked back the measure in a clean motion, and then placed the glass firmly on the table. "It's not going to end well, is it," he said, more as a statement than a question, but Rossi answered it anyway.

"No Aaron, I don't think it will."

-x-

Reid didn't know how he'd have managed to get him and Zack both home in one piece on the metro – it would have ended in tears – so he was grateful when Cam offered to drive the pair home. He ignored the piece of his brain which told him it was out of her way, and instead let the part of his brain which was looking at Zack, still too pale, still too wide eyed, take over.

Cam was sweet, told them to call her if anything came up, if they needed anything, and gave Zack a warm hug (which he wasn't expecting) and embraced Reid as well, before driving off.

It took them a while to stumble up the stairs to Reid's apartment door, fumbling with keys. They were both tired yet wired on tension and fear and anxiety. Last night had been bad, but it was different tonight.

"Are you hungry?" Reid asked quietly, as he dumped his leather satchel and coat.

"No," Zack answered. He looked at the couch, but there was a part of him that knew if he sat down on it he'd never get back up again.

Reid caught the glance towards the couch, along with the look of utter exhaustion on Zack's face. "Bedtime then. Do you want cocoa?"

"Please," was Zack's simple answer.

"I'll go make some then," Reid responded, heading towards the kitchen.

Reid went through the motions of cocoa, remembering how Zack liked it; a little bit of extra sugar, milk not scalding. While doing it he started to understand the attraction it held for Zack, the charm of making something for someone else.

He exited the kitchen, heading for the bedroom, only to notice that Zack was stood by the window. "Zack?" Reid asked, approaching cautiously.

Zack turned around. "I don't know if I can sleep tonight," he said.

Reid placed the mugs of cocoa down on the table next to the window before stepping over to Zack's side. Reid looked at him; his bleak pallor, moonlight hitting his skin in such a way to make him look even more ghastly pale than he usually did. The dark bags under his eyes, and a redness to them which showed how much of the day he'd spent near tears. "It'll be okay," Reid said, but his voice betrayed an uncertainty at the idea. "Sit down, drink your cocoa, you'll feel better."

Zack shook his head, and returned to staring out the window. Reid retrieved Zack's mug and wrapped the other man's hands around it. His fingers lingered, and Zack's gaze was drawn downwards to where their hands were entwined. "Trust me," Reid said.

Zack brought the mug up to his lips and gently blew on the cocoa before taking a sip. Reid smiled at him, and the corners of Zack's mouth tugged into the smallest smile back. "Thank you," Zack said.

"It's alright then?" Reid asked, before taking a sip from his own mug. He'd been concerned; Zack was the one who was responsible for such things.

"It's good," Zack said in return. He busied himself with the course of draining his mug. Reid did the same, only kept a careful watch on Zack. The day's events had unsettled him as much as they had unsettled Zack. There was a part of him still hoping that he'd wake up tomorrow morning and find this was all a dream.

Zack drained his mug, but made no move to set it back down. Instead, he gripped it tight. Reid could see him thinking hard, but he didn't want to disturb the delicate silence that had settled between them.

"I do," Zack said, breaking the quiet. Reid looked at him, with an eyebrow raised. "Trust you," he elaborated. Reid paused, wondering how on earth he could respond to that, but Zack got there first. "I trust you more than anyone else I know." He turned from looking out the window to meet Reid's gaze.

"And you still couldn't tell me?" Reid found the words escaping from his mouth before his brain caught up; an unexpected bitterness present in them.

Zack's eyes went wide as he winced. "I was scared," he said. "I'm still scared," he admitted.

Reid took a step forward into Zack's personal space, reaching out a hand to Zack's shoulder in a comforting gesture. Zack lent into the touch, and Reid found his hand sliding up Zack's neck to cup his jawline. His thumb caught a small wisp of hair behind Zack's ear. "I understand that," Reid said. "I think I'd be more concerned if you weren't." He removed his hand from Zack's jaw and averted his gaze. "I just—" He ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stand oddly on end. "I want you to feel like you can tell me everything. That you don't need to keep secrets anymore."

"I know that," Zack blurted.

Reid shot an accusatory glare back at Zack.

Zack wilted. "I do know. The execution's a little shaky," he said, looking up earnestly. "But I promise. I'm not keeping anything else a secret."

Reid bit back the laugh that almost rose in his throat. The weight of the last remaining secret - Zack's feelings - lay heavy between them. Zack cocked his head. A look of concern passed over his face. Reid got to it before Zack could posit the question. "I'm fine," he said. "Come here." He reached out, taking the mug from Zack's hands, placing it down and then wrapping Zack up in his arms.

Zack nuzzled into the nape of Spencer's neck. Reid pulled Zack tight to him with one arm, fist clenching in the back of his tee, his other hand cradling Zack's head. The sharp, clean smell of Zack's shampoo was all around. Zack clutched at the back of Spencer's shirt, the same way he had in Brennan's office earlier. He buried himself in the other man, trying to eliminate every iota of space between them, and Reid was quite happy to let him, embracing him back just as hard.

"I'm always going to be here for you," Reid whispered, his voice low in Zack's ear. "Always."

Zack pulled back. His hands lost their tight grip, and came round to fasten themselves to the front of Spencer's shirt. Reid lent into Zack unconsciously, trying to close the gap between them once again. When Zack tilted his head up to look Spencer in the eye, they were perilously close.

Reid could feel the ghost of Zack's breath on his lips. He was suddenly aware of every line of Zack's body, every part which was pressed against him, the fact that they were closer than they'd ever been and destroying every boundary of personal space which had ever existed between them. He still had one hand tangled in the ends of Zack's hair, and feared that he was clutching too tight in an attempt to ground himself.

If Zack was in pain, he didn't show it; he simply stared at Spencer as if enraptured. No one had ever looked at Reid that way. One of Zack's hands started a slow glide up the plane of Spencer's chest, with trepidation; it settled, curled, around Spencer's neck.

"Zack?" Reid asked, attempting to break the spell that has settled over them. It didn't work; Zack leaned in even closer. Reid was aware that he needed to step back, sever the connection between them before either one of them did something they'd regret. His brain screamed it at him, but he couldn't take his eyes off Zack, couldn't tear himself away.

Zack looked for acceptance in Spencer's eyes, that he wasn't imagining what was happening between them. "Spencer?" he breathed. He used the hand he had round Spencer's neck to tug him closer, but it was Reid who closed the gap to brush him mouth against Zack's.

Zack responded eagerly, pressing back into Spencer, using his hands to pull the other man close. Reid broke the kiss, taking a deep gasping breath, and then Zack's mouth was back on his. Reid cradled Zack's head as they exchanged a series of chaste open mouthed kisses, neither one of them willing to push too far.

They rested their foreheads against the other when they separated. Zack looked part giddy, part terrified, utterly unsure of what to do next. "And that secret—" Reid's words were shaky. "When were you going to mention that?"

Zack dropped his head, suddenly much more interested in the juncture of Spencer's neck and collarbone. "It didn't seem important," Zack muttered, mouthing at Spencer's pulse point. "I couldn't afford to lose you."

"You won't," Reid said, rubbing a circle between Zack's shoulder blades. Zack settled into Spencer's shoulder, slowly depositing more and more weight onto the other man. "We need to get you to bed."

Zack consented to be led towards Spencer's bedroom; there was no thought of them sleeping apart that night, even before their kiss. They undressed each other; Reid languidly sliding Zack's t-shirt over his head, and if Zack spent too long undoing the buttons on Reid's shirt, no one mentioned it. Spencer handed Zack another tee to sleep in, giving him another soft kiss when he pulled it over his head.

They settled into bed tangled up in each other; Spencer's fingers in Zack's hair, a leg slotted between a pair of thighs, arms that clung to each other. Wrapped in each other, it really was almost possible to forget the troubles of the day.

-x-

Reid experienced a strange trepidation as he and Zack rode the elevator up to the sixth floor. Zack, who was feeling stable after a restful night in Spencer's arms, took Reid's hand and squeezed. Reid smiled back down at him.

Their hands dropped as soon as they exited the elevator. They weren't ashamed of their relationship, but now was not the time to discuss it with the team. They'd barely had a chance to discuss it between themselves.

Rossi was waiting at the glass doors for them. "Reid, the rest of the team's already in the conference room," Rossi indicated. "Zack, you've got a psychiatric evaluation in twenty minutes, I'm going to take you over there now."

Zack's eyes went wide, and he looked desperately over at Reid, who had stopped dead in his tracks. "Why?" Reid asked.

"Hotch's orders. Even if he hadn't I think Strauss would be calling for one now," Rossi said back. "You should have had one when you came back from Iraq, so just consider it five years overdue."

Zack still looked like a deer caught in headlights. It didn't change the fact that Rossi was correct. Reid attempted to placate Zack. "Zack, it's just routine. We're just trying to make sure you're alright. Remember what I said last night?"

Zack nodded. "Of course Spencer." The promise that Reid would always be there for him.

"Good," Reid smiled. He walked into the BAU, leaving Zack in Rossi's capable hands.

"He's right you know," Rossi said, as he and Zack backtracked towards the elevator. "We are just trying to make sure you're okay. Nothing more than that. No one wants to send you back to the institution."

"I know," Zack said. "It's just difficult to remember that when I spent three years thinking I would never leave."

The Elevator dinged and Rossi and Zack stepped inside. "Kiddo, even if anyone actually thought it was a good idea – which we don't – Reid would never let it happen. Just let someone help."

Rossi hoped some of this was making it through to Zack. The last thing anyone needed was a repeat of yesterday's episodes.

-x-

When Reid walked into the round table room, everything was normal. He slid into his seat and he could almost pretend that it was a normal case. At least, until he saw the photographs of the Gormogon skeletons tacked to evidence boards.

"Now that we're all here," Hotch said, sitting up front as he always did. "Strauss has given us permission to stay on this case. The potential body count is too high for anyone to consider risking it, and Garcia—"

"We found something," Garcia blurted. "The handwriting recognition that we didn't think was going to get us anywhere?" She looked around at them all and only received blank stares back. "We totally got a hit."

She pressed a button and the case pictures appeared on screen. "1986, Las Vegas, Louise Chester went missing. Two weeks later her friend, who had been vigorously campaigning for her return, received a note telling her she'd never see Louise again."

"Vegas PD are pulling everything they have on her disappearance, and the local bureau office is waiting for our arrival," Hotch said.

"Is this all we got from the letters?" JJ asked. She'd left before they'd gotten into the letters the previous night.

"So far," Hotch confirmed. "We're still looking into them, but I consider this our most pressing lead."

"I'm running other missing persons cases in Vegas with a similar pattern, and I'll take it nationwide once that's done but I don't know how much use it will be," Garcia said. "The Victimology is so wide that we could potentially have hundreds of cases to look into. In addition, seeing as how ViCAP only started in 1985 tracking anything earlier than that is going to be extremely difficult."

"The Jeffersonian team are also reinvestigating whether they can tie identities to any of the D.C. Gormogon victims," Hotch said.

"With a little help from yours truly," Garcia said.

Hotch gathered the files that were before him and stood up. "Wheels up in thirty minutes." He turned to leave but then returned his attention to the team, stating, "Wendell Bray from the Jeffersonian will be joining us, we have him on permanent loan until this case closed."

Chapter Text

In which Garcia gossips yet again, the team touch down in Reid's home town, the Jeffersonian pulls out the old evidence and Zack attempts and fails to bribe Garcia.

Seeing as the team had all left on the long flight to Nevada, Garcia was the one who collected Zack at the end of his psychiatric evaluation.

She left her system running the missing persons reports; if possible, she'd underestimated the number of cases still open. Knowing that there were likely victims nationwide going back further than the records did didn't calm her worries. She just hoped she got results which could be useful for the team.

Zack appeared shaken when he came out of the office, but nowhere near as bad as he had yesterday. He saw Garcia immediately, but he still looked around like he was expecting someone else.

"Sorry boy wonder, you've just got me," Garcia said, catching his arm in hers as she led him back to the BAU. "The team left for Las Vegas an hour and a half ago, we got a lead."

"Oh." Zack sounded disappointed. Garcia had a sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with the lack of a certain boy genius.

"Don't you worry, we'll hear from them soon enough," Garcia said. "You can stay with me 'til then, and we're gonna have an awesome time." She was still working on how they were going to pull that off whilst sifting through missing persons reports but she had faith in her ability to pull something off.

"Thank you," Zack replied, as they waited for the elevator.

"Not a problem," Garcia beamed in reply, hoping that some of her cheer would rub off on Zack.

In the elevator Zack asked, "What did you find?"

"Handwriting sample from one of the letters matched a suspect in a 1986 abduction," Garcia said. The elevator doors open and they step out to the home floor of the BAU. "We don't know if we'll find anything, but considering one of the postmarks was from Las Vegas, there's a good chance that there might be something."

"I think you are right," Zack said.

Garcia tugged him down the corridor towards her office. "I am rarely wrong, boy wonder."

They entered her office, moving from the dull drab of the FBI to the bright wonderland which was Garcia's trademark. It reminded Zack of Angela's office, and he'd always found that place to be of comfort to him. This was home for the next few days, anyway.

Zack favoured the same seat as Reid at the back of Garcia's office, but he didn't raid the sweet jars the same way. Garcia took her seat in front of the wide array of monitors. She tapped a few buttons and started a video feed with the team.

"Baby girl, you there?" Morgan asked, his face taking up most of the screen.

"Why why why my chocolate thunder I am always here for you you know that," Garcia answered with a wide smile on her face.

Morgan smiled back. "Don't suppose you've got any good news for us?"

"If by good news you mean possible missing persons cases than you are in luck because I have plenty," Garcia replied.

"Not quite what I wanted but tell us anyway," Morgan said back. At this point Zack zoned out of the conversation and tried to tell if Garcia had any books in her office which he hadn't read before.

"Five missing persons cases flagged in Las Vegas which might match, dating from 1987 -95, and remember what I said earlier about ViCAP not going back before 1985," Garcia replied.

"Oh I remember honey, you've sent us the details?"

"Of course," Garcia chimed right back. "I'm running missings in Detroit currently but we all know how easy it is to go missing in that city and never have it reported."

Morgan sighed, knowing exactly what Garcia was referring too. "Just get us what you can, baby girl, and make sure you expand your search outside the city limits as well, six bodies isn't anywhere near enough for these guys."

"Chocolate Thunder do not remind me of that, I'm currently trying to remind myself that there aren't 80,000 missing persons cases in which no one knows what happened to them. They just vanished, Derek, and their poor families have no idea what happened."

"I know Garcia but if we can get this done we might bring closure to some of those families, so you've got to find them," Morgan replied.

Garcia was busy gathering herself for some sort of response to Morgan when Reid appeared on the screen, leaning over. He still seemed confused as to quite where the camera was. "Garcia, is Zack there?"

"Just finished collecting him when I called you," Garcia said. "Zack!" It wasn't really a yell, because he was only across her office, but he still jumped in reaction to her voice. "Dr. Spencer Reid is on the line for you," she said when his brow furrowed in confusion.

Zack looked up, and saw Spencer on the screen. He got up from his perch, dropping the candy wrapper he had been clutching, and made his way over to Garcia's desk to where he hoped Spencer could see him.

"Hey Zack." Spencer smiled when he saw him come into view.

"Hey Spencer," Zack said in reply, waving slightly and giving a similar warm gentle smile in response.

"Did everything go okay this morning?" Reid asked.

Zack nodded. He didn't want to talk about it here, not in front of Garcia and the rest of the team who were likely in earshot, but it had been better than he'd expected. "It was fine."

Reid managed to understand Zack's reluctance to talk about it in front of the others. "We can talk about it later, alright?

"That sounds good," Zack said. There were a lot of things that he and Reid needed to talk about. Not just what had happened in Zack's evaluation, but what had happened between them. They hadn't needed to clarify it last night, but now, as Reid hurtled further and further away from Zack, Zack felt more and more like they needed to talk; a need to define what they meant to each other.

"I've got to get back, we've got things to do before we land," Reid said. His voice was unsettled.

Zack was disappointed, but he managed to keep enough of a smile to hope Spencer wouldn't see through it. "Of course," he said, but he couldn't quite keep the despondency out of his voice.

Reid caught it; he was a profiler after all. "You'll hear from me before too long, don't worry." There was a hesitating pause, one where 'I miss you' or 'I love you' could be spoken, before Reid closed the video link.

Zack sighed, a tiny puff of breath. Garcia still caught it. She looked straight over at him and went, "Okay, spill. What on earth is going on?"

Zack just tried to look as blank as possible. He didn't have a clue how to go about explaining anything.

-x-

Everyone gave Reid an odd look when he closed the laptop. JJ and Morgan were both tempted to tease the young boy genius, but the case work took priority. Hotch kept them all in order, much as he privately wondered what was going on between the genius pair.

The flight out to Nevada took at least five hours, so there was plenty of time to go over everything; the five possible victims, the original missing persons case which brought them out there that didn't fit with anything any of the Gormogons had ever done. They all thought though, that there were only just discovering what the Gormogons were capable. A feeling hung in the air that DC was only the tip of the iceburg.

When they touched down, there were a couple of SUVs waiting for them, as well as a local agent who held a couple of files. "Agent Hotchner," she said with a smile when she saw the team.

"Agent Conrad," Hotch said in reply, accepting the hand she offered. "Are you familiar with the Gormogon case?"

She clicked into step besides Hotch as the team headed towards the SUVs. "I was only assigned this morning but I've read every file you've sent me and I followed the news coverage back in D.C. when the story broke back in 2008."

"Good," Hotch replied. "We need to get moving on this quickly, we still don't know how many victims there are out there and how often they are still killing."

"Do we even know if they are still in this area?" Conrad asked as she swung herself into the passenger seat of the SUV. Hotch opened the driver's side door while JJ and Emily went for the back seats.

"We don't, but so far the two cases we've found they seem highly territorial; in D.C. they killed for over fifty years and set up multiple locations which held significance for them. In Cambridge they were less established but the beginnings of what we found in D.C. were there. Given that we think they might have been here since the mid-1980s, there is a decent chance that we will find something similar."

"If we don't, we're out of luck, because this is our one substantial lead in tracking these guys," Emily added from the back seat.

"Garcia's still sifting through national missing persons, we might find something, and you never know Zack might remember something helpful," Hotch said back.

"Zachary Addy?" Conrad asked from the side. "Has he come with you?"

"He's back at Quantico with our technical analyst," Hotch replied.

"How much does he know? How much contact has he had with the Gormogon movement?" Conrad asked, and then noticed the warning look on Hotch's face. "I'm sorry, the files weren't clear other than he was involved and if I'm going to be on this case I'd like to know."

Hotch admitted she was right, though he hoped they weren't in Las Vegas for long enough for it to matter. "That was intentional. Zack is under a lot of stress at the moment due to this case and I do not want to add to that. He has been contacted by someone involved with the movement and threatened, and had no idea of the wider implications of this case until that contact was initiated. While he remains our only source of information about what the Gormogon cult is like, we have to understand he was only given limited insight into a breakaway faction."

Part of the discussion on the jet had involved exactly how they were going to refer to the Gormogons, because unsub didn't quite seem to cover it. From the letters though it was clear that there was a leader, so cult seemed to be the best term anyone could come up with, even though they all knew that wasn't the correct term either.

Conrad was quiet. "I understand sir."

Hotch, currently waiting in traffic, paused to get a proper look at their liaising agent. Her dark hair was pulled back and in the SUV she didn't have the same confidence she had out on the tarmac, and Hotch realised that she wasn't as old as he'd thought. He'd expected, given that the Gormogon case was currently making waves through the higher ups, to be given someone with experience. As good as Conrad appeared she was still young and unlikely to be used to the burden of such a large case.

Well, in the morning it had simply been a single missing persons case the BAU was looking into in Vegas as part of a larger string of murders. What Garcia had found indicated that there was definitely more to be found in Vegas.

Hopefully not so many they got overwhelmed.

-x-

"Whoa," said Angela as she and Hodgins walked into the lab.

"Where did all this come from?" Hodgins asked as he surveyed the scene.

"Don't you recognise it?" Clark Edison said as he walked past them carrying a box. "We're under orders to get half the Gormogon evidence out of storage it seems."

Hodgins looked at Angela. "I thought they only wanted IDs?"

Angela didn't have a response to the busy bustling of the lab. Instead, she aimed her question at Cam who was stepping down from the platform. "What on earth is going on here?"

"Someone's going to ask us to dredge all this evidence up sooner or later so I figured seeing as we had to grab the skeletons, we might as well grab everything else as well," Cam explained.

"Torturing the poor interns wasn't on your mind?" Angela said back, observing them all bustling around.

"I think they're still trying to decide if Wendell's going to be worse off," Cam said. "I haven't yet told them he's gone to Vegas."

"Wendell's in Vegas? Oh man," Hodgins said.

"With the BAU," Cam said, as she ventured back up the steps to the platform. "They're in the air right now, Agent Hotchner's going to keep me updated. And we have an open link to Penelope Garcia."

Angela grinned. She'd liked the woman, they'd hit it off, both sharing very similar ideas about what they did.

On the platform, Brennan was already hard at work pulling apart the second skeleton; they were hoping the relative recency of the victims would make them easier to find. Daisy Wick was besides her, acting as a sounding board for Brennan's conclusions.

Finn Abernathy had been given an evidence board, which had stunningly little on it. They were still waiting on the list of missing persons from before 2008. Sweets was behind him, on the phone with the FBI or possibly the BAU.

Fisher and Clark were both carting boxes, neither of them looking particularly happy about it but there weren't many more to bring up. There simply wasn't room to bring every piece of Gormogon evidence out of storage, especially with the additional evidence Angela and Wendell had brought back from Cambridge. They had the basics.

"What do you want from us?" Angela asked, looking over the mess.

"Anything that will help us identify the victims. There were those tarot cards which corresponded to the later victims, there might be some merit in trying to match them when we get Missing Persons?" Cam said.

"I can try," Angela said. "Do we have an ETA?"

"Sweets, missing persons reports?" Cam's voice was loud and clear about the crowd.

"Forty minutes," Sweets replied, looking up from his phone. "Garcia's found the ones from 2004-2008 and Booth's going to bring them over, earlier ones will take some time."

"We'll need them going back earlier," Brennan said, breaking from her concentration.

"We'll get them," Cam said.

There was a small bang as Fisher dropped one of the heavier boxes on the table. Clark came up behind him with a much lighter one. "I think this is the last of it, Dr. Saroyan," Clark said.

"Thanks guys," Cam said. "Take the first skeleton, I know it's older, but anything distinguishing will be useful."

They both nodded, picking up the cases which had the bones inside of them. There was a quick conversation between the pair, and they headed off the platform and towards the bone room at the back. It would be easier for everyone if there were less people around.

"Anything I can do?" Hodgins asked.

"Any chance you can pull particulates from any of this?" Cam asked.

Hodgins gave her an odd look. "After four years in storage? I think we'd be lucky. I can have a look though."

"Thank you," Cam said in reply.

It was going to be another long haul, but at least today they weren't dealing with the emotional torment of watching Zack break down.

-x-

Zack had been saved from interrogation by Garcia by Sweets calling about D.C. Missing Persons, and Zack had never been more grateful for Sweets in his life.

While Garcia was distracted, Zack managed to sneak out of the office to grab himself tea, raiding Spencer's stash in the BAU breakroom. He knew that technically he was supposed to be accompanied at all times whilst in the BAU, but he was only going to the breakroom. As he fetched the supplies from the cupboard he could see Anderson acknowledge him from across the room. That counted as supervision, Zack was sure.

He decided to make Garcia coffee as well, the insanely sweet concoction which she liked that Zack didn't really understand. But in the beginning of his days with Spencer he'd had so much time on his hands he'd learned to make anyway.

Hopefully she would be so delighted with her coffee, that she'd forget all about quizzing Zack. It was a forlorn hope, but Zack had to try.

Garcia was still on the phone when Zack slunk back into her office; he tip-toed forward to place her coffee, in one of her slightly ridiculous character mugs, at her side, and then retreated to the back corner where with any luck she'd forget he was there.

"No such luck, boy-wonder," Garcia said, and Zack cursed under his breath. She was worse than Angela. "Nice attempt at bribery though, and this is good—" she took a sip, "but I will not be swayed."

Zack decided that, like earlier, his best option was too simply stay silent. Not that it had worked yesterday, but today was another day.

"Something happened last night, and I'm not referring to your total breakdown," Garcia said. "You and Reid are acting weird, and by that I mean that something has happened that seems to have taken you from domestic and clueless to something I'm not really sure of yet but I will find out."

"It's not only my story to tell, Garcia," Zack said after a minute of Garcia staring at him.

Garcia pounced. "So something did happen. I knew it!" There was a look of absolute glee on her face. "I'll have to text my delectable Derek Morgan and see if he can ferret any information out of our charming young doctor-"

"Don't." Zack's voice was forceful. Garcia stopped and looked at him, and watched his face fall as he realised how harsh his voice had been. "He's busy with the case, he doesn't need you asking about me as a distraction."

"You know he thinks the world of you, right?" Garcia asked. Sometimes she really did have to stop and ask herself if Zack was an idiot, because he seemed incapable of seeing what the rest of them were, that Reid was enraptured by Zack. Then again, Reid and his three doctorates didn't always make for intelligent decisions, so she could hardly expect anything better from Zack.

"Yes," Zack said. "I don't understand why, but I know he does."

Garcia looked at Zack. "It doesn't matter why," she said. "You care to tell me exactly what happened between you because then I won't even need to ask him and you can't deny something happened cause you've admitted that much my dear. And seeing as you spent the last night clutching him like a koala bear, I reckon something pretty saucy went on to spice it up this much."

Garcia of course thought no such thing, but the resulting blush she got out of Zack was well worth it, though it wasn't as deep as the crimson shade he'd gone yesterday.

He eventually got it together enough to shake his head. "It's not like that Garcia." It wasn't the frank, confessional, uncertain tone he'd used when divulging their activities the other day. This was something different. "I don't know what it is. We haven't even talked about it yet, I don't know how he feels. I can't tell you because I need him to tell me first."

"Say no more, my young lover," Garcia said. Despite her curiosity, she knew the point at which her boys needed to sort it out between themselves. She could guess though; something had happened to shift the nature of their relationship. "I'll try and get you two some private time when they're all landed and not busy, and as soon as you've had a chat with Reid, you and I can have a nice long chat, preferably with more of this coffee and maybe a good rom-com and it'll all be fine."

Zack didn't have a clue what to say to that, but he figured he wasn't going to get much of a choice anyway, so he just went along with it.

Chapter Text

In which the BAU get settled in Vegas, JJ and Emily sift through a myriad of missing persons cases and the squinterns favour coffee and gossip over work.

Agent Conrad hadn't been on the case for long, but she was organised. They had to give her that; the conference room that would be their base while in Vegas had some of the most impeccably ordered evidence boards that they had ever seen.

There was a Vegas detective waiting for them when they arrived. Hotch delegated Rossi and JJ to interview him. Conrad explained that he was the detective assigned to the case back in 1986 when he was fresh out the academy, and they'd gotten lucky that he hadn't moved on. It hopefully would make things easier. Conrad seemed optimistic, but Hotch knew that it was unlikely to help given how messy this entire business was.

Within the five other missings which might be linked, all of which were male, they'd got a couple of suspects. Friendships gone bad, guys with assault records who were seen near them before their disappearance, one even had an ex-girlfriend lined up as a suspect before the police had dismissed her when they realised she was five foot nothing and probably not capable of taking the fellow down. Hotch thought they could probably strike her off the list as well. She might have taken down one ex-boyfriend in a fit of rage, but a string of men? She'd have switched to easier targets.

Aside from the fact that everyone they'd conclusively linked to the Gormogon case was male. Though they continued to defy expectations, the BAU thought it unlikely they would find women involved.

At this point they'd usually broken off to visit the crime scene and the medical examiner. Being together in the bureau office was unnerving.

Conrad hadn't got the five missing persons Garcia had found whilst they were on the jet, so Morgan and Emily got to work pinning those up. Wendell and Reid both sank into chairs, Wendell feeling slightly useless until a body turned up.

"Reid, Wendell, geographic profile. See if you can find a comfort zone," Hotch said. "There's got to be something hidden in the city, we've just got to find it."

Reid and Wendell gave him identical looks of distress. Neither of them thought they had enough for a geographic profile, but they looked at each other and decided that at least it would keep them entertained.

"You think there's something hidden here like in D.C.?" Conrad asked.

"Yes," Hotch answered.

Everyone busied themselves whilst they waited for Rossi and JJ to return. They were hoping they'd get a lead from the old detective. Morgan spotted them through the door, and got to the question first. "Anything?"

"Not really," JJ said.

"The Detective had no viable suspects for Chester's disappearance," Rossi said. "He was just a rookie, they all thought Chester had just wandered off and would be back within a week, everyone except her friend. Father dead, Mum was pretty much out the picture."

"The case only got any attention because Louise's friend, Tessa James, kept on at the media with it, and probably because both she and Louise were pretty," JJ added.

"Have we tracked Tessa down?" Emily asked.

"Local PD are trying, no luck so far; we think she's moved out the area," Conrad said.

"By the second week mark people were starting to get worried, the press was ramping it up, and then Tessa got the note saying she'd never see her friend again. And rather predictably the media circus exploded," Rossi said.

"But even despite that, no trace of her was ever found, and Tessa disappeared off the news fairly quickly when she realised she was a potential target," JJ said.

"I don't blame her," Emily said.

-x-

"Garcia, how's it going?" Emily said. Morgan was currently embroiled in some debate with local PD.

"I've got forty missing persons in Detroit. Forty which might match. I'll send you the files over, but I know the priority is on Vegas for now," Garcia said. "In good news though, the Jeffersonian are making progress matching victims on the original skeletons."

"Have they got anything useful?" Emily asked.

"Still waiting on it to come through, I was going to call them after I got an update from you, but I think if anything shocking had happened they'd have called me or you guys," Garcia said. "I know the DNA's gone off to the Quantico labs though, but most of the files I've found don't have any attached, and some of these cases are old."

"I know, and it won't do us much use at the moment," Emily said. "I've got a name for you to track, Tessa James, she was Louise Chester's friend and the locals are trying to track her down but they aren't having much luck, any chance you can work some magic?"

"Oh just watch me," Garcia said, and Emily could hear the rapid typing. "Let's see, she moved out of Vegas in '87 to Helena, Montana where she falls off the grid, probably paying in cash and the way of small town life, and then her social security resurfaces in Norfolk, Virginia for a grand total of two months in 1991—"

"Something more recent Garcia, we need a current location," Emily prompted.

"I haven't got one yet Em dear, I'm working on it. I can tell you one thing though. She's not dead because she'd be a heck of a lot easier to find."

"Call me when you've got something Garcia," Emily said back. "Is there anything else?"

"Nothing case pertinent, but tell me how's Reid acting?" Garcia asked.

Emily glanced back into the conference room, where Reid was pulling a face, scratching his head while he and Wendell looked at a map. "Slightly distracted and he was odd on the jet," she said back. "Why?"

"Well Zack isn't actually letting me in on the full story but Em something happened between them last night. I've gotten that much out of him," Garcia said. "I was just wondering if there was anything up with Reid that would help work out exactly what happened."

"Sorry Garcia, I've got nothing. The moment I do you'll be the first to know," Emily said.

"The same to you m'dear," Garcia returned, and Emily ended the call.

-x-

Rossi had taken the list of suspects in the other five cases, and with Conrad was contacting previous Detectives and tracking down current whereabouts. Conrad's organisational skills helped, and she was tactful dealing with local officers. They had left the field office to go out, hoping that they'd find something else that would help.

JJ and Emily were attempting to help Garcia out by running through missing persons' cases manually; Conrad had pulled some and had asked around for officers to forward anything they thought might be connected, and had produced a nice stack of files. There were even a couple from across the state lines into California and Arizona.

Wendell and Reid hadn't got anywhere with the geographic profile; it was stuck on the wall, a vague set of shaded circles across Las Vegas, nothing that helped them narrow it down. Wendell had been on the phone to Hodgins at one point, asking if he knew of anything in Vegas with masonic links, and had got a barrage of casino conspiracy back, but nothing useful. Reid was having trouble looking past his links with the city of his birth to dissect it the way the Gormogons would.

Hotch floated, looking through everything; the preliminary profiles that Morgan and Emily had cooked up back at the Jeffersonian, the letters, missing persons, and how it concerned him that they hadn't found anyone yet abducted after 1995.

"Prentiss, JJ, is there anything in the reports Conrad found?" Hotch asked, walking over to them.

"I've got three in Las Vegas which might go somewhere, two of them are pre-85 which is why Garcia didn't drag them up," Emily said, sliding the files over to Hotch, who glanced at them.

Hotch agreed with Emily. Statements from mothers about absent fathers, no reasons for disappearance, no leads; perfect victims.

"I've got two over the border in California, there was a young man who went missing of the I-15 and then four weeks later a forty year old man vanished without a trace in Baker, it's eighty miles from Vegas," JJ said.

That raised Hotch's attention. It wasn't that far out but they'd never seen any of the Gormogons travel great lengths to abduct victims. There was no need, with Vegas's 600,000 permanent residents in addition to all the tourist traffic. "When?"

"1980," JJ said.

"We've got missing persons going back that far?" Reid asked from across the room; he'd heard the conversation.

"I don't know what Conrad said to someone, but she's got people looking. Across state lines even," Emily said.

"She's got potential," JJ added.

"I'm beginning to suspect she wasn't handed this case by chance," Hotch said. "I'll ask Strauss. Did the locals suspect anyone?"

JJ consulted the file. "No one in the highway abduction, not that that's odd. Oscar Stewart though, our missing guy from Baker, there were a couple of people who reported seeing a slightly shady, strange man in town. Police couldn't track him."

"Any more of a description than shady?" Hotch asked.

JJ flipped a couple of pages deeper into the file. "White, late twenties, male, short brown hair, not local," she read off. "Oh, he was driving a car with Arizona plates."

"Wait," Emily said, reaching for one of the files she handed Hotch. "1982. Vegas. Thirty-three year old Hector Reames was walking home one night and never arrived. Only thing anyone reported was someone matching JJ's description and an odd car with Arizona plates hanging around."

"Anyone get a plate?"

Emily looked back down at Hotch's request. "No. And that description's so vague no wonder no one ever found him."

"It might help later when we're narrowing down lists," Hotch said. He speed-dialled Garcia. "Garcia, can you get me something?"

"Depends on what you would like sir, I am currently up to my head in missing person files and the Jeffersonian contingent is now arguing with forensics about goodness knows what. I don't care, and somehow everyone expects me to be the go between."

"Garcia," Hotch said, firmly. "When you have time, I'd like you to see if you can get a list of males in their twenties who moved from Arizona to Las Vegas possibly via California in the early 1980s."

"Sir, I don't have to remind you that that is vague and difficult to get records going back that far and—"

"Just get me what you can," Hotch added. "Also any missing persons from that time period in the tri-state areas involving a white male in his thirties."

"Did you not hear what I said I am drowning in missing cases, there are thousands, if I have to look at one more," Garcia ranted.

Hotch checked his watch, calculating the three hour time difference. "Anything you can, Garcia. Don't stay too late, tomorrow will probably worse."

There was a scuffling sound on the other end of the line, probably Garcia checking the time, and then a quick, "Of course sir" in response before she hung up.

Hotch looked at his team.

They were all tired, and probably in need of food. They'd have to get an order from somewhere, and another round of coffee. Having spoken to JJ and Emily, he turned his attention to Wendell and Reid. "How's the geographic profile going?"

They both looked blank in response.

-x-

Back at the Jeffersonian, progress was slow. Brennan was pulling together pieces, but her insistence of double and triple checking all the squinterns' work was impeding them. Cam supposed no one wanted a repeat of what happened last time.

Hodgins hadn't been able to pull any particulates from the bones. He floated around impatiently, getting in the way a fair bit while waiting for something fresh from Vegas. Booth had a similar disposition, hovering between checking over Brennan and on the phone to headquarters attempting to get more agents assigned to the case; Cam guessed from the angry yelling she could occasionally hear on the phone he wasn't having much luck.

She could see it from the perspective of the higher ups though. With two of the best teams in the country on the case, other cases weren't being solved. As far as they were concerned they'd put the country's best resources into the case, and now they just needed to wait for results.

Angela had buried herself away in her office. Cam thought that she was probably assisting Garcia with the nationwide missing persons search. It was that or the two were busy debating Reid and Zack's love life again.

As Cam looked around her lab, she noticed that all the interns had disappeared, apart from Finn, who was still up on the platform being tortured by Brennan. Usually when they disappeared they vanished up to the mezzanine, but a glance upwards showed that they weren't there. Cam didn't know where they'd gone.

It was Fisher who'd first slipped off to the bone room, trying to get some peace and quiet, and then Clark Edison who was fed up of the constant tension on the platform had also escaped. He'd brought some of the files with him and pinned up x-rays onto the boards so that if Cam came in they could at least attempt to claim they were working.

Daisy joined then, smiles and cheer and chatter, and with that Clark admitted defeat on the pretence of working. It was impossible to work with Daisy around, and anyone who managed it was a miracle worker.

They called Arastoo, who had the morning off seeing as he'd been sorting out yesterday, and asked him to bring in a coffee order. The Jeffersonian coffee machine was adequate, but the interns were all aware that Arastoo's route to the Jeffersonian passed one of the best little coffee shops in the city. And what was the point of them knowing each other's coffee orders if they never made use of it?

"So, what's he like?" Daisy started on Arastoo as soon as he walked through the door with the coffee.

Clark and Fisher both glared at Daisy, gladly accepting the coffee Arastoo offered. "Afternoon to you too, Daisy," Arastoo said as he handed her the last cup.

"Oh come on Arastoo you know who I'm on about," Daisy said.

"Daisy, not everyone has the power to read your mind," Arastoo said.

Clark, in the background, thought it fairly certain that no one had the power to read Daisy's mind.

"Zack Addy," Daisy said, high pitched as always. "Brennan's old assistant. Assistant to a serial killer. You met him yesterday. I heard Cam and Angela talking about it so what is he like?" The last few words were more deliberate.

Arastoo looked to Clark for help but none came. "He's—" Arastoo wondered about just how to describe Zack. "He's quite normal really. By the standards here. I only met him very briefly and he was knocked out for most of it. Clark, didn't you know him before—"

Daisy jumped in. "Oh yeah you were interviewed to be Dr. Brennan's assistant ages before she hired any of the rest of us."

Clark sighed. "I had two encounters with him. One when he came back and that put an end to any chance I had of getting that job, Brennan wouldn't have anyone else, and the second when Brennan's father was on trial for murder. Neither of them were what you might call buddy-buddy."

"Oh come on someone must know something more about him." Daisy paused. "Do you think after all of this is over she'll hire him back?" Daisy looked worried.

Fisher, who was slumped over the table where the bones usually sat, staring at his coffee cup, murmured "well if it would get rid of you I'd be all for it."

Daisy barely heard it, but still shot Fisher a dirty look. Arastoo took over. "I don't think so Daisy, he's been out for a year now and he only comes back here when Cam asks."

"If you really want to know about him ask Wendell, he's the only one who's really spent any time with the guy," Clark said. "Or hey, how about Sweets, you know, who was his psychologist for three years?"

Daisy pouted, though she had to admit defeat. Fisher slammed his head down into the table. Arastoo and Clark both wondered what excuse they'd need to get out of this.

Hopefully Cam would roll up and want them to do some work. That would be adequate distraction.

Chapter Text

In which Zack goes home to Garcia's and finds himself once again on the couch, and Spencer calls home.

In Washington it was getting late. Garcia was packing up to go home. Zack stood around, unsure of where he was going. He didn't want to return to Spencer's apartment without Spencer, never mind the fact he wasn't supposed to go anywhere without a Federal Agent.

Garcia caught him faffing about in the BAU corridors attempting to look inconspicuous and failing. She took his arm and said, "You are coming home with me dearest, Reid asked me to look after you." After a moment she tacked on, "If that's okay with you, I'm sure we can work something else out."

Zack looked at her and smiled, reassuring her that it was fine. If that was what Spencer wanted, if Spencer trusted her, than Zack did too. As much as Zack wanted to spend the night wrapped in his arms, Spencer was in Vegas right now. It was therefore an impossibility.

Garcia's apartment, well, Zack had visited it before but spending the night was a different affair. But Garcia provided food, homemade, and it had been a while since Zack had had someone else cook for him. He'd been left with the couch; Garcia informed him that Morgan assured her it was comfortable to spend a night on, and considering Zack slept on Reid's couch for nine months he didn't think he had any right to complain.

Only it didn't provide the comfort and sanctuary that Spencer's arms did and Zack had a hard time thinking about anything else.

He'd managed to spend most of the day not thinking about Spencer – Garcia's enquiries and the nice bureau psychiatrist asking was there anything or anyone who made him feel safe aside – but he struggled now.

Because now they'd kissed and that made everything different.

It had been mutual. Zack was sure. Spencer had initiated it, and even responded when Zack had deepened the press of their mouths against each other. Pulled Zack into his bed. They hadn't talked about what it meant going forward, but surely it had to mean something.

Zack was interrupted by his phone. No one usually called him at this hour unless it was important, so he looked at the caller id. Seeing it was Spencer, he accepted the call.

"Hey Zack," came Spencer's soft voice.

"Hey Spencer."

This shouldn't be weird. They did this practically every night that Spencer was out on a case. One of them would call; Zack would ask Spencer how the case was going; Spencer would ask Zack about how his day was. But this time was different.

"How's Garcia's?" Spencer asked.

"It's colourful," Zack replied. There were things he wanted to ask, things he wanted to say. He didn't know if now was the right time. This could be just a quick phone call to check that Zack was still alive before Spencer returned to missing persons cases and other things which are no longer pertinent to Zack.

"We've just checked into the hotel, Hotch has sent us all home for the night," Spencer explained.

"How is it?" Zack asked. It was a genuine concern. Usually the FBI managed to put them up in reasonable places, but not always, and Zack wanted to know where Spencer was.

"It's Vegas," Spencer said nonchalantly. Zack forgot sometimes that Reid grew up in Vegas. It was like asking him about Michigan, there was no way to describe it. "It's late there, isn't it?" he asked, after a moment.

"Yes," Zack said. It was nothing compared to the lateness of the previous nights.

"I'm not keeping you up, am I?" Spencer sounded genuinely concerned.

"No," Zack said, and then paused, wondering if he should tell Spencer, and then realised that Spencer would work it out anyway. "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep."

"Zack," and Spencer said it in that way only he did, with concern and affection.

"I just don't like new places," Zack said, because he didn't want Spencer to worry too much, and that was mostly the extent of it. There were other factors too, the stress, the lack of Spencer there, but even without them Zack would be having difficulty tonight.

"I know," said Spencer. "I'm sorry. If I could be there I would."

"I'd like you to be here," Zack said, after a glance over; Garcia was the other side of the door, headphones in, listening away to something Zack could vaguely hear the beat of. She couldn't hear Zack.

Reid smiled on the other end of the line, but he didn't really know what to say in response. Zack continued. "I miss you Spencer," he said, almost as a whisper.

"I miss you too," Reid replied. Zack's heart flipped, a tiny motion but noticeable nonetheless. "I'll be back soon though Zack, promise."

Zack knew that Spencer meant it, but he also knew that there was no real way to tell when the team would be back from Vegas. The sentiment was appreciated though.

There was a pause, as neither of them knew what to say. Zack couldn't think of a response to Spencer's words that didn't seem needlessly clingy, and although that was how he felt he didn't need Spencer knowing it. So he remained sitting on Garcia's couch, while Spencer balanced on his bed in his hotel room, leaning on the headboard for support.

"Spencer," Zack began, but he didn't know what else to say. He desperately wanted to ask Spencer, to talk about what happened yesterday. But he didn't know how to phrase it and he thought the entire thing would be easier if Spencer was just here. Then he could rely on physical actions doing the talking for him.

Reid, profiler that he was, picked up on the enquiring tone of Zack's. It was clear that something was bugging him. He didn't need to be a profiler to know that it was probably the events of the previous night, events that they'd left woefully unclear.

Reid fully admitted that he hadn't been thinking straight, last night or the entirety of yesterday. Seeing Zack so vulnerable had struck somewhere at the core of him that he hadn't quite been aware of. He'd known, subconsciously, that there was a truth to the team's jibes about his and Zack's relationship. He'd got eyes, he knew how Zack looked at him when Zack thought he wasn't looking.

But he'd told himself he wasn't going to do anything about it until he'd got his feelings completely sorted on the matter, that he wouldn't take advantage of the way Zack felt about him, and last night that had fallen apart.

They'd avoided talking about it the next morning; Reid had woken to an empty bed, but a steaming mug of coffee on his bedside cabinet, and their morning had been quiet. Though the fact that Reid kept looking at Zack's nervous face and wanting to hold him tight and kiss him just to see him smile had to mean something.

"Zack," Spencer started, and he was surprised when his voice came out unusually shaky. He ran a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to calm himself. "Last night. I meant it. Honestly. I care about you, more than I care about anyone else." He paused, and Zack didn't say anything. "I know it's difficult, and you're going through a tough time. I don't know what the psychiatrist said this morning, but I saw Hotch's face when he got the report. I know that all the stress from this case is getting to you, and that the last thing you need right now is our relationship becoming complicated—"

"Spencer." Zack's tone stopped Reid dead. "Stop it."

Zack couldn't help the tear that escaped his eye, or the upset that permeated his voice, as much as he tried.

There wasn't any way that Reid could hug Zack through the phone, but he desperately wanted to. The idea that Zack was hurting in any way because of something he did – well it pained him more than he wanted to admit.

Zack continued on. "I can't manage without you. You know that just as much as I do. I want you in my life however much you want to give me, and if you'd allow me," he paused for a moment, contemplating his words, "to care for you in that way, nothing would make me happier. Spencer, I—" and he halted, wondering whether now was really the best time to say it.

"I know," Spencer said softly back, getting the gist of what Zack was saying.

Reid lay down on his bed, trying to relax, trying not to let the flood of anxiety and adrenaline and nerves overwhelm him, the sense of butterflies in his stomach.

Zack, on Garcia's couch, was huddled up at one end. He'd been terrified, even though he'd tried and failed to not let on, terrified that Spencer had thought last night had been a mistake. He was absorbed in his world; he could hear Reid breathing on the other end of the phone, and it was a reassuring constant comfort.

Garcia rapped on her door loudly to knock him out of it. "You should get some sleep," she said, even though she noted he was on the phone, and then disappeared off again.

"She's right," Reid said, having heard. "You'll feel better for it, you know."

"You make me feel better," Zack said, but he knew how this would end. He was tired enough that it wasn't going to take much persuading to send him to sleep.

"Zack," Reid pleaded. "I'd feel better if I knew you were sleeping."

"Uh-hmmm." Zack admitted defeat, and lay down on the couch, pulling the colourful quilt over himself. "Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

Reid could already hear the tiredness in Zack's voice, so thought that little harm could come by agreeing. "Sure. What would you like me to do?"

"Read to me?" Zack asked, and that really was a sleepy tone.

Reid was used to Henry asking for such things, even Jack on the very rare occasions that he spent any time with Hotch's son, but Zack had never asked for it before. Nevertheless, he was happy to obliged.

It didn't take long for Zack to fall asleep, lulled by the sound of Spencer's voice.

Chapter Text

In which Garcia discovers a suspect, Zack helps make a break on the case and Wendell finally has something to do.

Garcia and Zack arrived at the BAU before anyone else. The other agents were used to Garcia keeping odd hours to keep up with the team. They themselves saw little point in making such effort when no one was in the office.

Zack got the coffee pot started while Garcia went to check her system. It wasn't that early. There wasn't much point in getting in before when the others would be waking up, and they were three hours behind.

They wouldn't be the only ones for long, either, because Zack overheard Garcia call Anderson up this morning and ask him to come in; Zack thought she was planning on giving him the Detroit files seeing as the team were busy in Vegas.

Zack spotted Garcia at the glass doors of the BAU, struggling with a load of files and her mug. He went and opened them, and Garcia dumped the files on him with instructions for them to go on Anderson's desk. A quick peak at the files confirms his early suspicion was right.

He watched as Garcia got her coffee – her second cup of the morning if Zack was right – and then followed her back to her office.

Zack wasn't an expert on Garcia's systems. He understood the potential of modern technology better than Reid did, but was more concerned with the hardware than the software. Still he was fairly certain the amount of flashing lights and warnings and windows popping up everywhere had to mean something.

That and the fact that Garcia had abandoned her coffee and was instead furiously typing whilst getting her headset sorted and calling someone on her speed dial.

It was Hotch who answered, sounding surprisingly alert for the fact that it was just after six in the morning Vegas time, and Zack doubted he'd got that much sleep.

"Sir?" Garcia said, and Hotch mumbled a yes in response – obviously not as awake as his initial hello had made him sound. "You know all those searches I left running over night after you told me to go home? I got hits." Her voice was high pitched and she spoke fast, detailing what she'd found to Hotch. Who then told her to repeat what she'd just said more slowly.

"Garcia, where are you going with this?" Hotch asked.

"It's just, he sounds like he might fit your profile. I'll send you the file, it's scary."

"Just send us everything you have and I'll get back to you in half an hour," Hotch said.

"Of course sir," Garcia replied.

-x-

The team were already awake when Hotch knocked on their doors, despite it being just past six. It didn't take long to get everyone down to the bureau office. Conrad had breakfast waiting for them when they turned up. For those who wanted it, anyway. The BAU had a worrying habit of subsisting on only coffee and take out whilst on cases.

Wendell tucked in appreciatively while everyone else dived for the coffee. They'd tackle the food later, once the caffeine hit their systems.

Once everyone had coffee, Hotch gathered them round the phone and called Garcia.

"Everyone's here Garcia, can you go over what you found?" Hotch asked. "Clearly this time," he added, remembering the rambling nature of Garcia's earlier information.

"Okay, so Joshua Rhodes was a slightly peculiar guy in his early twenties when he disappeared from Kingman, Arizona after police suspected him of abducting twenty-eight year old Polly Gamble. This is in 1979."

"There's a note in the police report that he was driving an early 70s truck, which matches the vehicle description in a number of your Vegas missings. No plate though, and the DMV don't have him registered as the owner of a vehicle, but I think we can assume it was an Arizona registration."

"Anyway, he disappears off the map until 1982, when I can place him in Vegas because he gets pulled over for a suspected DUI, only there are no records on what actually happened; can't find the officer who made the charge or anything, it's been wiped from the system, there might be a paper copy somewhere but I can't even find what precinct it was filed with."

"I'll ask around, see if anyone remembers anything," Conrad said, but Hotch thought she was probably pushing her luck if she thought she could find a suspected DUI from almost 30 years ago.

"Well, yes, you could try that. Anyway, he disappears again in 1984, but I've got a last known address which was occupied until 1995 at least, because the utilities were still being paid, and I'm sending it to your phones."

Morgan was ready to dash off, and Emily and Hotch both want to join him. "Garcia, why didn't the girl who went missing in '79 show up in any of our searches?" Rossi asked.

Everyone paused as they waited for an answer; it was a good point seeing as how Conrad had managed to ferret every other odd disappearance within a hundred mile radius out.

"I've been looking for missings where no trace was ever found, no body, nothing," Garcia said. "Polly Gamble though? Kingman PD found her. Part of her anyway. She was disarticulated and buried out in the desert, they found her in 1983. That's why she didn't show up, her case is regarded as solved, because Kingman PD have always been convinced that Rhodes did it."

"That doesn't match Gormogon at all," Reid said, looking across.

"Sounds like this was his first kill, it might have deviated from the ritual," Rossi suggested.

"Garcia did they find cause of death?" Hotch asked.

Garcia paused as she opened the relevant file to remind herself. "Single stab wound to the heart."

"That's him," Emily said.

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

"Morgan, Emily, with me, we'll check out the house. Wendell, will you come with us? If there is anything there we'll most likely require your expertise," Hotch said.

Wendell nodded quickly, relieved to be of some use, and grabbed the field kit sitting behind him.

"Good luck my darlings," Garcia said.

-x-

"Garcia, can you bring up that photo of Polly Gamble's body again?" Zack asked.

Garcia turned round to look at Zack, who was peering over her shoulder at her screens. "Sure can bone-boy, but I'm not sure why you'd want to."

"I thought I saw something," Zack explained, as Garcia obliged him by bringing the image up. "Can you zoom in on this?" he asked, looking at her Gamble's broken and distorted leg.

"I can try," Garcia said, but the image distorted as she did so. It didn't surprise her. "Case photos that are thirty years old do tend to break up."

"I've found cause of death on 1500 year old skeletons," Zack muttered to himself. "Did the M.E. take any pictures when he did the autopsy?"

Garcia pulled the report up that she'd just closed for Hotch. "I've got an x-ray of her chest, will that help?" she asked. The report was one of the briefest Garcia had ever seen. The coroner hadn't spent long going over the mangled condition of Gamble's remains and her cause of death. It was pitiful.

"It's not what I'm looking for, but yes," Zack answered.

Garcia brought it up, and Zack stared. She couldn't discern much in the black and white; it was a rib-cage, a person, but Zack had this look on his face which said that he saw more. "You see anything?" Garcia asked.

"She was bitten," Zack answered. "Here, here and here," he indicated what to him were the most obvious places, but by Garcia's befuddled look it was clear that she couldn't see them. If the x-ray was clearer, if there was more of them Zack was sure he'd be able to spot, but he could only work with what he had.

"Coyotes?" Garcia suggested, hopeful.

"Human," Zack said. Garcia sighed. Of course. "I am reasonably certain she was bitten on her leg as well but without the bones I can't make a full conclusion."

"Given the context of the case, I think we'll all take your word for it," Garcia said. She closed down the windows containing the reports. "Shouldn't the M.E. have noticed it?"

Zack thought for a moment. "Possibly? I do not know."

"Another mystery to add to the pile then," Garcia said. "Coffee, my dear?"

"I think I'd prefer tea, but yes," Zack answered.

-x-

They arrived at the dress Garcia had sent them to see a run down, old house. As the pair of SUVs pulled up outside of it, Hotch signalled for Wendell to stay inside. Morgan and Emily had already exited their SUV, scouting the outside of the house. No one appeared to be inside but Hotch knew that they could never be too careful.

A squad car pulled up, called by Conrad no doubt, and if there wasn't anything inside the house, three FBI agents, two cops and a scientist was probably going to look like overkill. On the other hand, if there was... Hotch would be thanking Conrad.

Morgan and Emily had headed round the back, leaving Hotch with the PD to breach the front. From the moment he entered the front door – the lock was so old it gave way almost immediately – it was clear that it had been a long time since anyone had been there. The place was coated with dust.

And yet there was a lingering scent, something like burned and rotten flesh. Both the cops wrinkled their noses at it. When they came up to a turn, Hotch signalled one of the cops to clear the other room. He could hear Morgan and Emily clearing from the other end of the house, both of their voices ringing clear.

Hotch met Emily in the middle. They'd seen anti-masonic books, a tapestry on the wall which they recognised from the Gormogon vault, but they hadn't found what they were looking for yet. No silver skeleton. Emily looked up to the stairs and Hotch confirmed he'd follow her, so they make their way cautiously up the stairs.

The smell was worse upstairs, stronger, more pervasive. Older. No one gave it much thought as they methodically cleared the rooms.

The door on the last room was stuck harder then any of the others – it was locked, Hotch reckoned. At this point they had enough evidence to explain away any broken doors. He gave the signal to Emily, who broke it with some ease.

She'd only taken a step into the room when she stopped, and the smell of rotting flesh hit Hotch's nostrils.

Cautiously making his way past Emily, he noted the sealed windows, and then the body on the other side of the room. It was a skeleton, sure, but not the one they were looking for.

"That's a—" Emily started, but the smell got to her.

Hotch knew what she was referring to, for he could see the Gormogon knife in the skeleton's chest as clearly as she could.

Stepping outside the room so he could breathe, he thanked himself that he'd had the forethought to set Wendell up with the comms systems earlier. "Wendell, you need to come in," Hotch said, and Emily just stood across from him looking horrified.

"You found the silver skeleton?" Wendell asked, as he grabbed the equipment he would need from the back of the SUV.

"Nope, but there's something else you're going to want to have a look at," Hotch said.

-x-

Reid didn't like waiting for the call, but he knew there was little he could do until Hotch got back to them to confirm whether there was anything at the house. Luckily it was morning and there wasn't traffic; if there was ever a time when Vegas was asleep, it was now, in that period where the sun had just risen and the night crowd were tumbling into bed while the day crowd were just waking up.

JJ had gone to help Conrad find any info on that DUI. It was concerning that it had been wiped from the system. They were willing to take the chance that he might have gotten lucky in not being formerly charged and no one had checked across state lines, but it seemed that someone had deliberately deleted it from the system.

JJ's departure with Conrad, along with the others disappearing off to the crime scene had left Reid alone with Rossi.

"What's on your mind?" Rossi asked, as Reid sat staring at the evidence boards.

Reid frowned and raised an eyebrow at Rossi, who didn't dignify it with a response, and Reid felt like he had to answer. "Is the fact that my best friend has been threatened and terrified by a gang of serial cannibal murderers who could have between them one of the highest body counts we've ever seen, and on top of that he's coping with a whole host of issues which I should have noticed but wasn't even aware of not enough to be thinking about, or do you think there's something else bothering me as well?"

Rossi thought there was, but Reid didn't seem in the mood to talk about it. "Okay, fair point," he said.

"I just want to help him and make sure he's safe and I don't know how to do that," Reid said quietly, and Rossi almost missed it.

"I'm sure somewhere in that big old brain of yours you'll find the answer," Rossi said back. He'd glanced at Zack's preliminary psych report over Hotch's shoulder yesterday, and the little he had read – put together with his own observations – indicated that Zack would require a hell of a lot of help before he was actually back on his feet again.

A couple of moments of silence followed, and then the phone rang. Rossi, who was closer, pressed the button to conference it, and attempted to signal JJ back into the room. "You've got me and Reid," Rossi said.

"It's definitely him, this place is a Gormogon treasure trove," Hotch said.

"Silver skeleton?" Reid asked.

"Nope, but we've got a body," Hotch said. "Wendell's checking it out now. Stabbed directly in the heart, the blade's still there."

"How old is it?" Rossi asked, and he could hear Hotch repeat the question over to Wendell.

"Wendell says probably between 10-15 years, but he can get an accurate date once he's back at a lab," Hotch said.

"So between '96 and 2001?" Reid said. It didn't help them very much.

"Reid, we need to find out where the silver skeleton is hidden. Do we have enough reference points to form a compass?" Hotch asked.

"I've tried everywhere in Vegas I can think of with masonic connections, nothing seems to have enough resonance to actually mean anything," Reid responded.

"Have you factored in Kingman and the location of the house?" Hotch asked.

Reid grabbed a marker and a fresh copy of the map, studying intently, and then drawing an arrow between Kingman, Las Vegas and Baker. Taking a different colour, he then marked the house, and consulting the geographic profile he and Wendell had drawn up Yesterday, looked for another location that lined up.

"Got it," Reid said, spotting Chester's abduction site and drawing on the arrow. "I'll send you the address," he added.

"See if Conrad can get some of her people out, we could be here a while," Hotch said.

Reid nodded, and looked at Rossi. They'd be the ones heading out.

Well at least they were getting somewhere.

Chapter Text

In which Morgan is wary of hidden booby traps, Wendell comes to a surprising conclusion about the corpse they've found and Anderson investigates his own case.

After Hotch's conversation with Reid and Rossi, Morgan decided that they didn't need three of them to stand around and wait until Wendell had anything on the skeleton, so hopped into one of the SUVs and drove off to where Reid had pinpointed. He pulled up and saw Reid and Rossi outside the church yard.

"We got anything yet?" Morgan asked as he approached Reid and Rossi.

"This is the location the compass pointed too," Reid said, looking down at his map. "In D.C. they found the completed skeleton in a crypt," he added.

"So you think the same here," Morgan said.

"Possibly," Reid said. "Unless you've got a better idea?"

"Nope," Morgan said. "Split up and look for anything suspicious then?"

Reid nodded. "Just, be careful. We don't know what we might find in addition to the skeleton?"

"You think they might have put something harmful in with it?" Morgan asked.

"Would you put it past these guys?" Rossi chimed in.

He and Reid headed off into the graveyard, grateful that it was daylight. Rossi stayed behind, instructing everyone else on what they were looking for. Morgan figured it probably had something to do with not getting his shoes muddy.

Not that anyone was certain of what they were looking for. They thought a silver skeleton was likely, probably complete, but they were hoping there would be some other sign. Getting a warrant to search every grave in the place would be time-consuming, if they could even get a judge to approve it in the first place.

Morgan figured he'd been looking for something hinky for about half an hour when he heard Reid cry out over the yard. It didn't take long to be at Reid's side, who was pointing a flash-light into the corner of a crypt.

"That's the seal of Barabbas," Morgan said, looking at Reid.

Reid nodded. "I haven't found it on anything else yet, so I reckon this might be the one."

Morgan agreed. "Hey, can I get a crowbar over here?" he yelled out, hoping one of Conrad's agents heard. It didn't take long for one to be provided and Morgan was breaking into the tomb.

The door creaked, and a wave of dust was unleashed, but when it settled it was clear that in front of them was a skeleton.

"Well, at least we found it," Morgan said.

-x-

Wendell was used to people watching him while he worked, but he wished that Hotch and Emily could go and find something else to occupy their time. Hotch had admittedly called back to the field office, but that barely counted.

He was taking samples, hopefully Hodgins would be able to get an accurate time of death, more accurate than Wendell could. Taking note of the injuries; childhood fracture on the right ulna, minor stress fractures in the phalanges, all healed. The skull was damaged, and although Wendell was fairly certain that the knife to the heart was the cause of death, the ante-mortem skull fracture would have probably killed him anyway.

"Do you know who it is?" Hotch asked.

Wendell looked at him. "White male, late thirties to early forties, approximately 5'11''," Wendell rattled off. Nothing yet that indicated who the guy was. Wendell didn't think he was going to find much, either. Hopefully running dentals would find a match, or Angela might be able to do a facial reconstruction. All of that would take time though. "I'm not a miracle worker," he reminded them, as they looked at him desperate for more information.

Hotch and Emily turned to each other. "So who would Rhodes kill that he'd just leave here?" Emily asked. "Are any of the bones missing?" she asked; she couldn't see anything missing but she was aware that she wasn't the expert.

"Not that I'm aware of, but I'd have to double check at the lab," Wendell said. "I'd work under the assumption that nothing was taken though," he added.

Hotch thought a moment. "This isn't a sacrifice in the way most of the Gormogon victims are. Those killings a highly ritualised, this one's not. He's been stabbed through the heart out of reflex, not because he's a sacrifice."

Emily nodded in agreement.

"He was probably killed here," Wendell said. "Body's not been moved."

"There's no posing, and we know how important that usually is to these guys," Emily said. "He was killed out of necessity, possibly to hide the Gormogon mission?" she suggested.

"Wendell, how was the apprentice killed in the D.C. case?" Hotch asked.

Wendell looked confused, but answered anyway. "Single stab to the heart. He had a couple of defensive wounds, but nothing major."

Emily looked at Hotch, trying to catch up. "What are you thinking, Rhodes killed one of his apprentices?"

"This body's in his what, late thirties?" It was mostly a rhetorical question, but Wendell still nodded. "He's too old to be an apprentice."

Wendell did some quick maths in his head. "Rhodes would fit the age range of the skeleton," he said.

Emily's jaw dropped a bit. "So Rhodes' apprentice killed his master?"

"I can't think of anything else that fits," Hotch said. "Kill the only other witness to the crime, kill the person who can be traced – let's face it, it didn't take us very long to find Rhodes once we started looking."

"That's true," Emily said.

Hotch's phone rang. He answered it, as Emily looked over at Wendell, who was still crouched by the skeleton. He sealed up the last of the test samples, and then got to his feet, looking down at the skeleton grimly.

Hotch's conversation didn't last very long.

"Was that the others?" Emily asked.

"They've found another silver skeleton," Hotch said.

Wendell grabbed the field kit. "Complete?"

Hotch looked grim. "Yes."

-x-

Wendell gave firm instructions to the CSIs who had turned up about how to remove the skeleton. It would be packed up and shipped to the Jeffersonian, where they were better equipped to handle it.

Emily ended up being the one left behind to supervise the scene; they needed someone on site in case anything important turned up. Hotch had been in touch with JJ, and she was on her way over, so Emily wouldn't be alone long.

It didn't take very long to drive the distance over to the graveyard, and Wendell was practically itching in the front seat. When they arrived, there was a milling of several agents standing round the front, cordoning off the entire graveyard. Whoever was in charge of them seemed to be making moves to search the entire place thoroughly, and though that was probably unnecessary, it couldn't hurt right now.

Morgan and Rossi were both waiting for them. Morgan helped Wendell grab the equipment from the back of the SUV and led him over to the silver skeleton, which Reid had already started investigating. Hotch caught up with Rossi.

"Reid reckons at least twenty victims, probably more," Rossi said. Wendell and Morgan have disappeared now. Hotch will take a closer look at what they've found later, after he'd caught up with Rossi.

"That's hardly surprising," Hotch said.

"What about the skeleton you guys found?" Rossi inquired.

"We think it might be Rhodes," Hotch said, and he watched the look of surprise on Rossi's face. "Wendell's arranged for it to be shipped to the Jeffersonian who will hopefully be able to give us a concrete ID, but that's the theory."

"How'd the guy end up stabbed in his own house?" Rossi asked.

"An apprentice turned on him? Wanted to kill the other person who had the possibility to incriminate him?" Hotch said. "We can work that out later. Right now we need to work out if there's anything we can use from the skeleton to identify the apprentice."

"Of course," Rossi said. "Have you heard from Garcia?" he asked.

"No, nor the Jeffersonian. It was on my list of things to do next. Why, has she found something?" Hotch wondered.

"I don't think so, but she was running an awful lot of leads when we last spoke. You never know, she and Zack might already have a clue to who the apprentice was," Rossi said.

"It's that, hope Wendell finds something or take a chance that somewhere in Conrad's super organised files she's found this guy," Hotch replied.

"Well, stranger things have happened," Rossi said.

-x-

An hour later Emily and JJ joined the rest of the team outside the graveyard. Wendell was still examining the silver skeleton, but he'd given them enough information to go on. Hotch thought it more important that they all caught up and got a handle on what was going on.

Morgan had Garcia on speaker-phone, and Zack was still in her office.

"Wendell thinks that the bones in this skeleton are all at least ten years old, probably more like fifteen, and some of them are older than that," Reid said. "I agree with him."

"We've got nine cases we can tie him to, but there's at least twenty-five different victims in that skeleton," Morgan added.

"Running extra searches as we speak and there's a big pile of nationwide possibles waiting for you when you get back," Garcia said. "I've handed the Detroit cluster off to Anderson to look at, but there are stacks of them."

"I'd help," Zack said in the background.

"But the DA would have an absolute fit if they caught wind of it Zack, and it's the last thing we need," Hotch said. "It's bad enough having you overhear all the details."

"I'll try not to," Zack said back but they all knew it was pretty much pointless.

"The other skeleton we have may be Rhodes, otherwise we've got a real conundrum on our hands," Emily said.

"I concur with that, seeing as I can't find any evidence on his existence after that," Garcia said. "Speaking of people who have disappeared off the face of the earth, I found Tessa James. She's in Wales now, I can try asking if someone can bring her in."

"If you wouldn't mind, Garcia," Hotch said. "Emily, JJ, how soon can the techs get the Rhodes' skeleton to D.C.?"

"We told them as fast as possible," JJ said. "It'll definitely be there by tomorrow morning, but I called Conrad and I think she's trying to put the fear of god into the delivery guy to get it there faster."

"Let's hope it works," Rossi joked.

"Tell the Jeffersonian that we need a concrete ID on it as soon as possible, even if they get one of their own cases in, this has to be the priority," Hotch said.

"Will do sir," Garcia said, though she'd probably make Zack do it. They were, after all, his old team.

"The FBI is still given the Jeffersonian regular case work?" Rossi asked, directing it at Hotch.

"We've got a forensic anthropologist, they don't seem to want us monopolising the lab," Hotch replied.

"So what do we do now?" JJ asked, looking around at her colleagues, gathered in a circle.

"We find the apprentice," Hotch said.

-x-

Working for the BAU was never boring, but for Anderson it was at least normal. Serial killers are what made their world turn, what they did, but this case had shattered that and turned Anderson's life into a bit of a nightmare.

Garcia had dumped forty case files on his desk that morning, and clearly expected something to be done with them, though he didn't really know what. But if there was a paper trail, if there was a link, Anderson would find it, because that was what he did.

There were a lot of people who don't really understand why the BAU was as big as it was. Why there were quite so many agents working in the office when the core team was small and barely ever interacted with the others. There were others who didn't understand why Anderson was still there, how he had survived almost getting Greenaway killed, but Anderson reminded them that you didn't get into the BAU without being very good at what you do, and he was.

It wasn't his fault that Hotch kept forgetting he wasn't a babysitter.

There wasn't anything on the surface which linked any of the missing persons cases, but Anderson had been expecting that. The people at the Detroit field office weren't idiots, a couple of these cases were clearly kidnappings which would have put them straight on the desks of some federal employee and no leads had ever been found.

Something of this scale usually took a multi-agency task force weeks to puzzle out, and here he was, by himself, and he was fairly certain if he didn't have something by nightfall Garcia was not going to be impressed.

He got Gina to grab him an evidence board, decided that seeing as the BAU was in Vegas it'll be fine if he took over the round table room, better than setting up and conjecturing in the main bullpen. Anderson thought they were still trying to keep the case on the down-low, which was why he'd been lumped with the files, because he'd been dragged into the case early on.

The cases split into three piles; an early bunch which were most likely committed by a single offender, higher-risk targets who fitted the Gormogon victimology but also a more general victim profile, and then a middle phase where the abductions were more daring. Digging deeper into those files Anderson discovered that the detectives on those had considered them possibly linked, but nothing had ever come of it.

Anderson didn't want to think about the fact that when he'd dug a little deeper, he'd found that both of those detectives had been killed when someone had lobbed a bomb into their car, which sounded suspiciously similar to an incident from the original DC file.

Then those teetered off, and it cycled back to a single abductor. Which matched with the pattern of the Gormogon case. Master started killing, recruited an apprentice, completed a silver skeleton, and then the apprentice became the Master and the cycle started all over again.

He placed each of the cases on a timeline, noting possible suspects, anything odd, trying to find a link beyond the possible Gormogon victims. The timeline threw up something odd almost immediately; when both of them were working together, the missings were perfectly spaced, and yet when both of them worked alone, that vanished. He had no idea why, but that was the reason the BAU actually existed, to solve problems like that.

On a hunch, Anderson decided to follow the bombing. He pulled the report on the car bomb relatively easily, and then sent the request of to Detroit for any cases that matched.

He started to regret setting up in the conference room when he ended up at his desk calling people in an attempt to track the files down. It turned out there were a couple of other bombings with the same concoction, better still for Anderson's purposes that they remained unsolved, but finding out where the files actually were and any details on them was harder.

Gina brought him coffee, as he sat and talked some more guy who seemed to have only been on the job for a couple of days through digging out the paper files, scanning them in and forwarding them to Anderson. She was still hovering when he finally got off the phone.

The files were printing out, and Anderson handed her the bomb break down, knowing that she'd make more sense of it than he would.

"This is just fairly basic, I can't see anything odd about it," Gina commented. "I'm not an expert though, call Morgan, he's got the bomb squad experience."

"He always says that and I've looked, he spent three months liasing with them, I'm not convinced that it actually counts," Anderson said back, and took the report off Gina. "Too bad there weren't any teeth in the bombs, then we'd have it concretely tied to the case."

"Gormogon?" Gina asked, raising an eyebrow but keeping her voice quiet. "Just send it to the Jeffersonian, ask their opinion, they really are the experts."

"I will," Anderson said, as he pulled the reports together. Gina took off, having her own work to do.

There was definitely something here. Anderson didn't know what exactly, but it was something.

Chapter Text

In which the BAU attempts to put together all the pieces of the puzzle, Hotch debates where they go from here and Diana Reid has some unexpected words of wisdom for her son.

The BAU team returned to the Las Vegas FBI building to attempt to identify the apprentice. They'd left Wendell behind. He was still debating whether to battle with the Las Vegas crime lab to find space to work or to just ship everything straight back to the Jeffersonian. There remained a couple of things he could do on site. Conrad had agreed to stay with him while he pulled samples.

Tracking the apprentice was proving difficult. They already knew there were more victims. No one had yet found any after '96, which prompted the question of what had happened after that.

"Everything linked to the house is either under Rhodes' name or Peter Wharton, which we know is a false identity," Morgan sighed, tossing the paperwork onto the table.

"Can we search for any Peter Whartons across the country and see if we get anything?" JJ suggested.

"You can be the one who suggests it to Garcia." Morgan knew how bogged down she was.

Emily was back looking at the profiles they'd collated based on the letters, and Reid was re-examining the letters they now knew belonged to Rhodes. They all knew there was something in the letters they were still missing.

"Hey guys, the CSIs just found these and I thought you'd want to see." The BAU looked at Conrad, who had just appeared round the door. She was clutching evidence bags.

Morgan, who was nearest, took them off her. Four letters, each dated. He spread them out on the table, and everyone crowded in to look at them.

"Handwriting matches the unsub who signs Wharton as the bottom of their letters," Reid commented.

"Though these first three aren't signed like that," Rossi said.

"The last one's dated August 96," JJ said. "Which would tie up with our skeleton's death in 1996."

"That lends credence to the theory that Rhodes is the skeleton, but otherwise," Rossi said.

"It'll be in D.C. by sundown," Conrad added.

"This section," Reid said, pointing to the last part of the '96 letter. "Everything else is carefully composed, the handwriting is laboured, but here he's writing much freeer."

Reid handed the letter over to Hotch. "The worlds' eye has been drawn here and I will head your quest with the reverence it deserves. The Knights will fall and their secrets will be exposed for all to see. Our mission will become centre stage, our wrath will be felt. Completion is always to be admired and we must pass on our knowledge, or all of this is futile. Your successor will bring success to us all," Hotch read off.

"Well that certainly sounds natural," Rossi commented.

"Was there anything important happening in August 1996?" JJ asked.

"The Prince and Princess of Wales were divorced and 35 people were electrocuted in Arequipa, Peru," Reid said.

"The Ramones played their last concert," Emily chimed in.

"I don't see the Gormogons caring about punk being dead," Rossi said.

"The Olympic Park Bombing was the 27th July 1996. That drew everyone's eyes to Atlanta," Reid said.

"Has Garcia found a spate of missing persons which match in Atlanta?" Hotch asked Morgan.

"I'll ask her," Morgan said, dialling the number.

"Derek Morgan my chocolate god you have perfect timing." Garcia cuts in before Morgan has any chance to greet her.

"Whoa there baby girl, what's going on?" Morgan asked, as everyone in Vegas just looking confused.

"So you guys know I found a ton of missing persons cases in Detroit, which coincidentally is where one of the postmarks was from? I handed them off to Anderson to see if there was anything there that was obvious seeing as you were all busy working Vegas, and I thought no harm could come of it."

"Well it turns out there's a spate of bombings which targeted a number of people involved with the investigation of those missing cases. We're trying to get more info on them now," Garcia said.

"Hodgins believes he may be able to track them using the chemical make-up of the bombs," Zack said.

"That's great Garcia, send us whatever you've got," Morgan said. "We think one of these guys might be working out of Atlanta, have you got anything there?"

"Atlanta?" Garcia questioned. A couple of quick keystrokes and she found the index of cases in Georgia. "I've got a couple that might be connected, but they're really vague and I sort of lost them in the grand scope of Detroit being massive," she said.

"Send them over," Hotch said. "What can you tell us?"

"Twenty-four year old male vanished in 1990, widowed mother, recently inducted into the Knights, fits pretty perfectly. Then a thirty-one year old in 1996, no wait this file says it was a double abduction, Zack find the file on this other guy," Garcia said. "And then a twenty-seven year old male in 2006."

"If they really are in Atlanta, they're being an awful lot more careful than anywhere else," Emily said.

"There's no way that those are the only people who have vanished," JJ said.

"The files are on your tablets people, I'll try and expand my search," Garcia said. "Zack you find that file?"

"No." They all heard the muffled response.

"I'll send you that one as soon as we do have it," Garcia said, and hung up.

"Morgan, Rossi, take a look at the Detroit files, see if Anderson really does have something. JJ and Reid take the Atlanta cases. Emily, with me," Hotch said. "Lets see if we can find the apprentice."

-x-

"I've got it Zack," Garcia yelled.

Zack looked up from the pile of files he was searching through, relieved. "I can stop looking then?"

"Definitely, especially as I'm not convinced that you should be looking through that stack of files anyway," Garcia said, looking back at him.

Zack dropped the offending items quickly. "Why was I looking through them then?"

"Because we needed this file," Garcia waved it at him, and then opened it on her desk. "Thirty-two year old Michael Clegg and thirty-one year old Dean Bradbury were abducted in Atlanta on the 15th August. No ransom demand, no leads until Clegg's body is found is found in the old fourth ward," Garcia read out.

"Aren't you supposed to not tell me these things," Zack commented, but it didn't stop him listening.

"Probably not, but I'm not very good at doing these things properly," Garcia said. "We can talk about you and Reid and that look on your face last night if you want?" she suggested.

Zack ducked his head. "The case is fine," he said in a very noncommittal way.

Garcia raised an eyebrow but decided it wasn't worth pursuing. She turned the page in the file. "Okay this was definitely our guy."

"Why?" Zack asked. Garcia flipped the file round so he could see the crime scene photo. "Oh." Zack took in the poor guy, propped up in the widow's son position.

"I better send this over to the others, they'll want to see it," Garcia said.

"Send it to the Jeffersonian, see if they can tell anything in addition to the M.E. report," Zack said.

"Will do so Zackaroni," Garcia said, turning back to her computer.

Zack contemplated if it was time for another cup of tea. He felt like he needed one.

-x-

Hotch was rapidly coming to the conclusion that there wasn't much more they could do in Vegas. He and Emily couldn't find anything that pointed to the identity of the apprentice, not at the moment. Maybe when they'd got a concrete ID on the body and the contents of the house had been thoroughly sifted they'd have something, but for now it wasn't of much use.

He noted that someone should probably compare notes and see if Maynard and Rhodes owned any of the same books. It could help narrow down exactly how the letters were encoded. He'd ask Reid to go through it at some point when they weren't horrendously busy.

They'd be better served going elsewhere. Or having a break. They'd been working non-stop since they were assigned to the Maynard case and everyone was starting to flag. They were chasing leads up and down the country and had yet to make anything that felt like progress.

They'd leave Vegas within the next twenty-four hours. It would depend on when they got cleared for takeoff; Hotch thought that the team would probably have to split. Half of them would check out Atlanta, the other half to Detroit. He'd ask Reid if he wanted to pop in and see his mother before they left. Reid hadn't mentioned her yet, but he had been preoccupied.

Something had happened, something had changed and Hotch couldn't tell if it was good or bad but he thought that maybe, just maybe, Reid had started to comprehend the reality of the fact that his best friend was in love with him.

Rossi and Morgan were discussing the Detroit bombings. They'd got someone on the phone, probably Anderson, or as Hotch listened closer, possibly Hodgins.

He'd seen a glimpse of the file that Garcia couldn't find earlier but had eventually retrieved, and it was intriguing and confirmed that someone in Atlanta had definitely been killing according to the Gormogon mission, though Hotch was concerned that they hadn't found any more cases. Especially as the letter had promised a whole new level of visibility for the movement which most definitely had not happened.

Wendell had checked in with what he thought was a confirmed victim count of twenty-six, which proved their fears that there were yet more victims out there. Hotch decided that he'd leave that in the capable hands of the Jeffersonian, because missing persons in Vegas wasn't getting them anywhere.

Reid and JJ were discussing the implications of the Clegg murder. Reid had got Garcia running a search for any John Does who remained unidentified from 1996 onwards, hoping they'll find Bradbury that way. Hotch thought they all knew the futility of that search. But they hadn't come up with anything revolutionary, just that Wharton in Atlanta seemed to have a flair for the dramatic that rivalled Gormogon in D.C.

It reached six o'clock. They'd had a call from Garcia saying she was leaving everything to run overnight but she was going home. There was something about Zack having promised to cook and she wasn't going to turn him down. Hotch had already arranged for the team to depart Vegas the next morning.

Everyone could do with a break, even if it was only a matter of hours. A quick discussion with Reid ensured that the boy genius would go and see his mother; hopefully she'd be having a good day. Morgan offered to drop him off at Bennington, and Rossi went to rescue Wendell from the Vegas crime lab, and Emily and JJ both joined Hotch in search of food.

They packed up some of the evidence before they left. Conrad took over, delegating a series of agents to do the rest of it as she waved them out the door. Everyone suspected that it would all be impeccably filed and sorted by the time it was loaded onto the jet.

Despite it feeling like the end of a case, with the team gathering, they all knew that it very much wasn't. Come morning new horrors would await them, but for now they decided to lose themselves in the busy lights of Vegas.

-x-

Morgan pulled up quietly outside Bennington, letting Reid grab his bag at his own pace, and wishing the boy luck before he drove off again. They'd called ahead to check that it was okay for Reid to just turn up, but it didn't necessary mean that Diana would be happy to see him.

Morgan really hoped that it went well. Reid probably couldn't handle much more right now.

The attendant at the front recognised Reid the moment he stepped in, and quickly ushered him up to the communal room where Diana was sitting. Reid walked up the stairs, taking long breaths. He hoped that his mother wouldn't pick up on how tense he was. With any luck she wouldn't ask too many probing questions.

He paused at the doorway to look at her, taking a deep breath before heading over. There was an empty armchair besides her, and Reid dropped into it effortlessly. "Hey mum," he said.

Diana Reid stopped staring out the window and turned her head to look at her son. "Why Spencer," she began. "I didn't know you were coming." She turned to look at the attendant who had followed Spencer into the room. "Clarice why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

"I'm in town for a case, we fly back tomorrow morning, I didn't know if I'd have time," Spencer explained, and Clarice moved back, letting the mother and son have their space.

"Whatever has brought you out this time my boy? I don't remember hearing anything on the news, the government must be keeping something from us—"

"It's an old case mum, I can't talk about it," Reid replied. "It's complicated."

"Oh." Diana Reid stared intently at her son, figuring there was something he wasn't telling her. "You're so thin, are you eating right? I always said you needed someone to look after you Spencer."

"Mum, I can look after myself," Reid said. He thought about Zack though, who undoubtedly looked after Reid far more than he wanted to admit.

"And that boy you took in? I hope you're looking after him," Diana added.

Reid sighed. It was unavoidable mentioning Zack in his letters, as much as he didn't want his mother poking into that part of his life. Zack knew, of course, about his mother, but he was very tactful about it. They didn't talk about it, just as they didn't talk about an awful lot of things, now that Reid thought about it. "Zack's not a boy," he said. "And he can look after himself too."

"There's nothing wrong with a helping hand Spencer," his mother said. Reid looked up, as Diana smiled at him.

"I know that," he replied, fiddling with his hands. "The case we're working on at the moment, it's related to the one he got caught up in," he admitted.

"And that was a terrible mess, but you managed to sort it out," Diana said. "I have faith in you. And I'm sure he does." Diana only knew as much as Reid wrote in his letters, but she had also been an English professor and thought her son revealed far more between the lines than he thought he did. "I know you care about him Spencer."

Reid's eyes widened in response to his mother's statement. "A mother knows about these things my dear," Diana continued.

Reid didn't know what to say. "It's complicated, mom."

"Love is the naturalist thing in the world, Spencer," Diana said. "I fail to see the complications."

Reid sank his head into his hand, leaning into the armchair for support. He knew there was no way to make his mother understand what he was going through, and no way for any advice she gave to be helpful. He didn't know what to make of his mother's declaration of love.

Was that how he felt about Zack? Reid knew he cared about the other man; he could profile his reaction to the idea of Zack being taken away and know that it had to mean something. He knew that he was attracted to Zack, he'd felt the tug as soon as he entered the room back at the institution, the lure of his intellect too much for Reid to resist. He'd tucked it all away in favour of the kinsmanship he felt with Zack, Zack's need for a support network and a friend and not a lover.

And there was that word again, and it was scary, because while Reid wasn't inexperienced in matters of the heart, he couldn't name a single person he had ever been completely and utterly in love with. Love was easy; he loved his mother, loved Henry, loved Ethan for a time, maybe even Lila, he loved his team. But Zack?

"It just is," Reid settled for, because he couldn't explain it, couldn't explain the last year spent falling for his best friend, couldn't explain the whirlwind of the last week where the stable comfortable world they'd built for themselves had crashed down completely.

"I do hope you've told him," his mother scolded. Her tone made it quite clear that she thought he hadn't. "You'll lose him otherwise."

Now Reid didn't actually think that would happen. He'd have to screw up quite majorly to push Zack out of his life, he knew that, even if he was terrified of it happened. "I know mom."

"Good," Diana said, seemingly satisfied with herself. "And when you do you will bring him here, I want to meet him."

Reid really didn't think that that was a good idea, for a multitude of reasons, but he knew that it wasn't worth the hassle of arguing with his mother over this one. "I will," he said, because it was the easiest thing to do.

Chapter Text

In which the team splits up, Booth joins the hunt and the Jeffersonian discover something odd about the latest silver skeleton.

They had a leisurely morning. The earliest they could take of was ten, and they'd packed everything up the night before. Hotch was taking JJ, Emily, Reid and Wendell down to Atlanta, and then Rossi and Morgan would continue onto Michigan, where Anderson, Booth and Clark Edison would be joining them.

Hotch didn't like splitting the team up. The key to the case almost certainly lay in Atlanta, but they needed someone in Detroit as well.

Garcia and Zack had taken the morning off, seeing little point in sitting around the BAU while they knew everyone else was cutting loose in Vegas. Morgan had had a phone call extolling the wonders of Zack's cooking, and Reid had just looked confused as everyone teased him.

The Jeffersonian team had not been slacking though, and Hotch suspected that they worked partially through the night to triple-confirm that the complete skeleton they found was Rhodes. Wendell had spent half of breakfast talking to Brennan about the silver skeleton they'd found which was being shipped back to the Jeffersonian, but the x-rays and preliminary photographs had all arrived.

No one had found anything odd yet, which the team supposed was a good thing.

It took them a matter of minutes to load everything onto the jet. And as they'd all suspected, the case files were impeccably neat and ordered. Hotch made a note to inform Conrad's superiors of her work on this case; they couldn't have asked for anything more from an agent who'd been handed the files barely six hours before they'd turned up.

Hotch didn't want anyone working on the jet. Once they touched down, they would be working non-stop. Everyone was insitant they could carry on, but Hotch could see the edges starting to fray.

Garcia still checked in to confirm that she still couldn't find anything odd in Atlanta; no strange disappearances, she'd double checked bombings after Anderson had found the spate in Detroit, but there was nothing that looked out of place to her. In her usual cheerfulness though, she smiled and promised to keep looking as Zack appeared awkward watching over her shoulder.

That was all the case talk Hotch allowed. JJ had a novel she was planning on reading, Morgan settled down to look out the window with some music. Hotch sat away from the younger crew with Dave.

Reid usually buried himself in a book, but this time he instead just sat, seemingly deep in thought. Emily, who was next to him, noticed and attempted to engage him in conversation, and Reid mumbled answers back at her. It didn't take long for her to give up.

It didn't really matter as long as when they touched down in Atlanta everyone was back at the top of their game.

-x-

There was a quick turn around when they landed in Atlanta; the jet off for refuelling to continue to Michigan. It didn't take long to unload, despite all of Wendell's forensic kit which had to be loaded into the back of the SUV plus a couple of boxes of case files.

Morgan and Rossi waved them off while they waited on the tarmac for everything to finish, and the others were transported to another bureau office conference room where they'd begin the same process they'd done in Boston, the same process they'd done in Vegas all over again.

They were met at the front by the latest case agent; Windsor. Neat, in a suit, typical FBI. The team only hoped he was good at his job.

He proved it quickly. "Agent Conrad faxed over how she'd set the room for you up, so I've done the same," Windsor said. JJ and Emily looked at each other; they doubted he'd been the one to actually tack each piece of evidence up. "Your technical analyst said you were especially interested in the Bradbury/Clegg case?"

"Yes," Hotch nodded quickly.

"I've grabbed the original detective, he's waiting for you upstairs, still with the force but in a different precinct," Windsor explained as he led them up.

"There are two other cases, Thomas Islington in 1990 and Benjamin Franks in 2006," Reid said.

Windsor cut him off before he could continue. "I've got the files. The Detective in 1990 died in 2008, you can try seeing if anyone else at that station remembers anything, and I'm still tackling Det. Rose who was the lead in 2006."

"I'll put Garcia on it," JJ said.

"Good," Hotch said. "Prentiss, Reid, take the Bradbury/Clegg Detective. Anything he knows, especially about what the atmosphere was like here following the Centennial Park Bombings."

"Of course sir," Emily briskly replied.

"I can tell you about that," Windsor interjected.

"We may require your expertise," Hotch said. They were all relatively familiar with the bombing given the debacle that had followed afterwards. "JJ, with me, let's see if there is anything specific about these four victims and why we can find them but no one else."

"Else?" Windsor questioned.

"We've found trails of thirty-plus victims everywhere else we've been," Reid said. "We suspect this is the centre of it so the body count may even be considerably higher."

Windsor, seasoned FBI agent though he was, turned slightly pale at that. It was clear he hadn't read the case files quite as carefully as Conrad. "The Detective's just down there," he signalled to Emily and Reid as they reached a turning. Both of them nod and leave. "And the conference room's there." He indicated a room a couple of doors down from where they were standing.

"Wendell, have you got anything that needs looking at?" Hotch asked.

"Dr. Brennan's probably trying to identify victims from the Vegas skeleton, I can help from here," Wendell said.

"Good," Hotch said. "Agent Windsor, can you help Mr. Bray set up a link to the Jeffersonian?" He and JJ turned and left without waiting for an answer, leaving Windsor standing in the hallway with the blonde scientist.

Windsor had a feeling that he'd already gotten in over his head with this one.

-x-

Booth had never met or heard of Agent Anderson before. Booth knew he was with the BAU, Garcia had done quick introductions when detailing what Anderson had found in Michigan, but that was about it. At first he was relieved to have another Agent travelling with him – even if Clark was fairly normal as far as the squinterns went – but Anderson was just a little odd, and didn't really seem comfortable being out in the field.

There wasn't any particular need for Booth to go out to Michigan, but he felt he needed to be doing something. He was fairly certain that after they'd lent Wendell to the BAU things were supposed to go back to semi-normal about the Jeffersonian, but no new murder cases had come across his desk and the team was now busy putting identities to another raft of Gormogon victims.

Well that and Booth's seen the squints out in the wild. They needed some supervision. It wasn't like it was far to come back to D.C. if he was needed for anything.

They touched down in Michigan and there was the usual kerfuffle of travelling with all the lab equipment. There was a bureau issued SUV outside, complete with an Agent leaning against it.

Booth, Anderson and Clark made quite the trio, and the agent spotted them immediately in the crowd. She didn't move, but Booth could see her gaze narrowing as they advanced towards her. "Agent Booth," she said, shaking his hand, "Agent Anderson," her eyes moved across, "and Dr. Clark Edison." Clark and Anderson both have armful of cases which make shaking hands slightly more difficult, but they both nod in return. "I'm Agent Yates. Shall we get moving?"

The boxes were quickly piled in the back, and they all got in. "Agent Morgan and Agent Rossi haven't touched down yet, I heard from them while they were turning around in Atlanta." She looked in the mirror to meet Anderson's gaze. "You were the one who put together all the disappearances and the unsolved bombing cases, correct?" Anderson nodded. "Your technical analyst sent me all the details, I spent the morning going over them. It's a better theory than anything we ever came up with."

"You've seen the case before?" Booth asked, because as far as he knew Anderson had only pieced it together yesterday.

Yates smiled. "Not really. I remember when they were happening, no one really took them seriously but someone linked them up one day. Not that we ever found anything to trace them with. Used to be something to do in off moments, wonder about who'd set them off, but I haven't thought about it in about five years. Not until this case landed on my desk this morning. Never thought I'd see car bombings and ritualised serial murder together."

"Do you work homicide?" Booth asked.

"Violent crime usually," Yates answered, turning a corner in the SUV. Edison, in the back seat, knew that they weren't heading towards the Detroit FBI office and wondered where exactly it was they were going. "I've been from department to department in my time though."

Booth nodded. "Just as long as we manage to wrap this up quickly."

"I'm taking you to the station where the Detectives who were killed in the first car bombing worked; there's probably more to be gained there. Agents Rossi and Morgan should be meeting us there, it should be too long."

Clark nodded, reassured that he now knew where they were going. Somehow, he was more calm than Anderson, who was ever so slightly twitchy sitting in the back of the SUV. Booth, in the front, really hoped the BAU arrived soon. Someone needed to be competent or nothing would ever get solved.

-x-

Hotch looked up as Reid and Emily entered the conference room. "Anything?" he asked, putting down the file he was holding.

"Detective says it's pretty much exactly how the case file reads. Two young men vanish, no one thought all that much of it, they were expected to turn up again in a week or so, only they find Clegg's body in the fourth ward," Emily said. "Which propels the police department into a sense of panic thinking they might have the beginnings of a serial killer on their hands, but they never found any more leads, or Bradbury's body, despite scouring the area several times over the next few weeks."

"The public nature of the murder is different through," Reid said, finding a seat. "Whoever is working here wanted the publicity, but for some reason they didn't get what they wanted from it."

"What was the fallout in the press?" Hotch asked.

"About average for a horrific murder," Emily said. "The papers covered it, but they were still dealing with the fallout from the Olympic games and the Park Bombings. If the unsub intended to strike while the world's eye was on Atlanta, they didn't get the press coverage they wanted."

"It's been fifteen years since that though, why didn't they make another attempt to resurface?" JJ asked. She was putting together a timeline of everything they knew about, but the sheer scale of it was concerning.

"They try again in 2006," Reid pointed out. "That's the only other case we know about."

"Ten years between murders though?" Emily asked. "These guys have it under control, but not that much. We're missing something."

"Garcia's re-combing every missing person, murder case, unsolved John Does, anything in the city right now," Hotch said. "Until then there's still lots to get through."

"The Vegas crime lab's started sending over the breakdowns of what they found in Rhodes' place," JJ said, sliding a couple of files over to Emily and Reid.

"Oh joy," Emily said.

Reid just took one of the files silently and opened it, beginning to read.

"Just think, you could be investigating car bombings in Detroit right now," JJ said, as Emily decided that she might as well get started.

"As long as they're having better luck than we are," Emily said.

-x-

At the Jeffersonian, everyone was starting to get a little tense. Wendell had pointed out some damage to the Sternum, and Brennan had sent Daisy to investigate. Cam had taken the liberty of calling Arastoo in to help Brennan match identities. Which was a good thing, because Brennan kept getting intrigued by the damage done to the bones which didn't match the standard injury pattern.

Garcia popped in personally with Zack to drop off all the Vegas missing files they had. This of course led to half the lab becoming distracted checking if Zack was alright, while Arastoo took the reports and began sorting through them.

They didn't stay long though, Garcia had her own job to do and was merely taking advantage of everyone else being in the air to get out and about before they needed her again, and as much as she'd like to set up at the Jeffersonian, letting Zack near this much forensic evidence given his previous record of tampering with it would be unwise.

Hodgins was running all the particulates he had through as many tests as he could think of. The silver samples were in the mass spectrometer, which would tell them if they had a match with the other skeletons. That was, if the samples were large enough. Brennan had also found particulates in the skull of the silver skeleton that she wanted examining, and then there was all the trace evidence from Rhodes' house which had to be processed.

"Hodgins?" Cam asked, seeing him deep at work at his station. There were a dozen or so Jeffersonian assistants buzzing around making sure all the evidence was being handled properly. Angela seemed to be doing a good job of directing them.

"The silver matches," Hodgins said, handing over the appropriate file from the top of his desk without even looking up from his microscope. "Still don't have a clue what the particulates in the skull are. I've got a whole load of industrial breakdowns from Rhodes' house and minute traces on the body but I haven't actually pieced them together yet, give me another couple of hours."

Cam looked briefly through the report, noting the matching traces. "Anything on the bombings in Detroit?" she asked.

"I'm on it," Hodgins said, waving the official FBI report at Cam.

"Of course you are," Cam said, and decided it was best to leave Hodgins to his own devices.

Daisy was off in the bone room, and Cam guessed from the fact that seeing as she hadn't come back in shrieking that she hadn't discovered anything odd with the sternum. It left Cam with Arastoo and Brennan, currently on the main platform of the lab.

Arastoo had gone for the same approach that Finn had before; tacking up missing persons files up as he completed osteological profiles and matched up bones with possible victims. He'd got a couple up on the board, which wasn't bad going, especially as they all knew they hadn't actually found the files for the all of the victims.

Brennan was over on another of the steel tables, having taken the fibula, ulna and skull to look at closer. "Have you got anything?" Cam asked, leaning over.

"Five possible matches," Arastoo said. "I've sent DNA off to the FBI, but I think they're getting pretty backed up."

"With all we've sent them, it wouldn't surprise me," Cam said. "I think we've pulled all our favours in over getting any of it rushed as well."

"Are we really in a rush with this?" Arastoo asked. "I know it would be good to catch them as soon as possible, but they don't seem to have made a move."

"We'll leave that worrying to the BAU, they're the experts," Cam said. "Right now we just need to provide as much help as we can." Arastoo nodded, and ducked his head back to the work. "Dr. Brennan?" Cam asked.

"This victim was badly beaten," Brennan said pointing to the ulna. "There are radiating fractures which are consistent with being repeatedly struck multiple times while defending oneself."

Cam peered a bit closer, but she didn't really have the knack for discerning patterns that Brennan did. "Defensive wounds. Surprising but not all that odd."

"Their flesh was cut into, deep enough so it nicked the bone," Brennan continued.

"We're dealing with ritual cannibals," Cam said in return.

"There's blood pooling deep in the nicks," Brennan explained. "This was done while they were still alive."

Cam took a step back, not expecting that. "And the fibula? Please don't tell me he was burnt alive?"

Brennan shook her head. "It's difficult to tell for sure," she said. "But I think it's unlikely. There are marks on the bone that indicate it was chopped off before it was burnt."

Cam breathed a minor sigh of relief. "Have you told Wendell and the BAU this yet?" Cam asked.

"I discussed it briefly with Wendell when he called an hour ago, he's going over things with Angela currently," Brennan said.

"I'd make sure he knows all the details," Cam replied, and left them too it.

Chapter Text

In which Zack returns to Spencer's apartment, Evidence Tech Sharp's expertise in required and the team prepares for the worst.

Morgan was feeling frustrated. Hodgins and the grand might of the Jeffersonian hadn't yet given them anything identifiable on the bombs, though Hodgins thought that there was something there, he just hadn't had time to examine it properly yet.

And then Rossi had vanished along with Agent Booth leaving Morgan in charge, which wasn't something he wanted. Clark Edison had felt rather useless without a body or some bones or anything else he could examine. Agent Yates had dug out the evidence file for what they'd found after the car bomb, including a couple of x-rays, and while it wasn't as good as having a forensic anthropologist to put all the pieces back together at the bomb site, it at least seemed to keep Clark happy.

Yates herself wasn't bad, but even with twenty years in the bureau she wasn't equipped to handle a serial killer with multiple tracks to their personality and a case as complicated as this one. She'd got the case because they were looking at it as a series of bombings, and she was great at that, going over the details with Anderson.

Morgan looked at the board. It was Anderson who had put this case together, and while he'd looked at it on the plane, the team had been rather more concerned with the Atlanta mystery than what they imagined was a clear cut – or as near as they'd get with the Gormogons – case in Detroit.

He looked across the details Anderson had picked out. It was clear that he wasn't a profiler, but that was what Morgan was there for. Two unsubs, knowing the Gormogon structure most likely a Master and an Apprentice. United they put up a strong front, playing off each other. Much more codependent than the other partnerships they'd seen in the Gormogon cases.

Morgan also knew that some of the letters they'd found in Maynard's locker were from Detroit. They'd found a postmarked envelope. He thought back on the profiles he and Emily had mocked up based on the letters. There were two that showed what they presumed was a strong partnership.

"Bobbins and Collier," he muttered. Anderson and Yates both looked up, but they don't say anything. Morgan grabbed his tablet, looking for the notes and photographs he'd taken back at the Jeffersonian.

He was even more certain when he looked back over. Maybe the added detail about the bombings would help Reid decode the letters, if they were even still looking into that as a possibility.

After a moment, Anderson decided to enquire after Morgan's muttering. "What is it?" he asked.

"Bobbins and Collier were two pseudonyms used by two of the people who were sending Maynard letters," Morgan said. "I think they're our guys."

-x-

The team didn't get anywhere that evening, so everyone went off to bed in there various separate locals across the country. Zack ended up back on Garcia's couch, which was starting to wear thin because it was becoming apparent that Garcia's couch was not designed for a long-term guest.

Zack wanted to go back to Reid's apartment, just to get a few things – a couple of books to keep him entertained whilst he was under FBI supervision and was supposed to have nothing to do with the case, though they all knew how well it was working in practice, a couple more changes of clothes, check the fridge to make sure nothing had gone off. Though given how long this seemed to be taking, maybe a better plan would be to just throw it all out.

And then there were the kitchen plants which Zack was fairly certain would now need watering, and given that he hadn't managed to kill them yet he had no desire to do so any time soon.

Garcia agreed to escort him, after a morning in the office in which they'd managed to achieve nothing but a horrible sinking feeling that the Gormogons were not going to be easily caught. They'd popped back in what was supposedly Garcia's lunch break, but that was a technicality. Really, it didn't matter when they went. It was odd, wandering up to Reid's apartment without him, but really it was just as much Zack's home as it was Reid's.

He let himself in the front door quietly, and went to go grab his things, nipping into the kitchen first to check on the plants. Garcia got the couple of bits of mail that had piled up outside Reid's door, and decided that there was no harm in flicking through them quickly.

There was a letter for Zack, from what Garcia recognised as the CalTech engineering department, and a couple of letters from the local universities that are addressed to Reid. And then.

"Ahh!" Garcia couldn't help the small shriek that came out of her mouth as she dropped the pile of letters.

Zack, who had been in his bedroom, came out quickly, wondering what the sound was. "Garcia?" he asked, taking in Garcia standing in the middle of the main room of the apartment, her fingers barely gripping onto one of the letters. "What is it?" He started walking towards her.

"It's another of those letters. Addressed to Dennis Wharton," she said, fast, like she couldn't quite believe it.

Zack didn't touch it, but looked over at it. "It's the same as the ones I received previously," he said, very quietly. He couldn't keep the shake out of his voice.

"Forensics should have it, see if they can get anything off it," Garcia said, as she started to come to her senses. "Does Reid keep evidence bags handy?" she asked.

She wasn't honestly expecting Zack to nod, but part of her wasn't surprised. He retrieved one, opening it up and Garcia dropped the letter in, still unopened. "Let's just get out of here as quickly as possible," Garcia suggested, and Zack nodded.

Garcia was left standing there holding the evidence bad while Zack tore round the apartment, gathering his things and shoving them into a duffle bag. "I've got everything," he said as he approached her again.

"Good," Garcia said. "Let's go."

And with that they left the apartment.

-x-

Garcia was trying very hard not to lean over Evidence Tech Sharp's shoulder, knowing how irritating she herself found it, but she was finding it very difficult to do so. Zack had been banished to the other side of the BAU, currently sitting in the break room where Garcia could still see him, just in case the letter had anything they could forensically tie to Gormogon.

She'd known just from handling it that there was more than just a letter in it, but as Gina sliced carefully into the envelope and exposed the contents, Garcia couldn't help the gasp that emerged from her mouth.

"I think you should call Hotch," Gina said calmly as she first took the letter to dust it for prints.

Garcia picked up the phone on Gina's desk and dialled. Hopefully Hotch would pick up quickly. As the phone rang, she looked down at the photographs Gina had found, of the team, and they all looked recent. Gina, glancing up at Garcia for just a moment, spread them out so she could more clearly see them.

"Garcia?" Hotch asked.

"Sir," she answered, quick and higher pitched than normal. That quickly drew Hotch's attention and there was a click as he transferred her call to speaker. "We – that is Zack – got another letter. Addressed to Dennis Wharton. Gina's dusting it all for prints right now."

Hotch sighed. "Send us a copy as soon as you can, and see if you track the postmarks," he said.

"Sir, you don't understand. It's not just the letter. There's a bunch of pictures. Of you and Reid and JJ and Emily and Wendell and some guy in his fifties outside the Atlanta FBI building," she said. "I haven't got any of Rossi and Morgan though," she continued, taking a closer look at the photos.

"Which means that the Gormogon in Atlanta is probably the one sending Zack these letters," Hotch replied.

"All clear," Gina said, pushing the letter over so Garcia can read it. She took the photos back, there was always a chance that there the unsub hadn't been quite as careful.

Garcia read through the letter, horrified. "The widow's sons will now fall faster than ever before. By speaking you have wrought your own undoing," she read off. "Our wrath will come swiftly. By evening we shall be known again."

"Garcia we need to see the full thing and all those photos as quickly as possible," Hotch said. "Is Zack there? Has he seen this?"

"He's in the break room in the bullpen, I can see him, but he hasn't heard the conversation or seen the contents of the letter," Garcia explained.

"Don't let him," Hotch said. Garcia was about to protest, about how Zack was looking over her shoulder at practically every moment with this case, but Hotch stopped her. "Garcia you know how he reacted when he thought he'd put us and Reid in danger. Do not let him see this. I'm going to get some Agents up there so Zack is supervised at all times and you two are not to go anywhere alone, understand?"

Garcia squeaked out, "yes sir." She attempted to compose herself, just in case Zack looked back over. "I'll make sure we both stay safe," she said.

"Look after yourself," Hotch said.

"And please look after Zack," Reid chimed in from the background.

Garcia put the phone down, looking at Sharp. "How long until I can scan this?"

"You can have the letter, I'll have the photographs done in half an hour," Gina replied.

Garcia picked up the letter. "Thanks."

-x-

In Atlanta the atmosphere was tense, until Garcia emailed over the letter and they could all have a good look at it. Rossi and the others in Detroit were being conferenced in. This was the biggest clue they had to uncovering what was happening with the organisation right now, instead of playing catch up to what they were doing twenty years ago.

Hotch looked over at Reid, who looked increasingly concerned with each read over the letter. He'd been good about keeping his feelings about Zack compartmentalised; it was easier out in Vegas where the case didn't seem to have anything to do with Zack, but as of now Zack had been drawn right back into the centre of it.

"This is different to the other letters," Emily said. "Both the ones previously sent to Zack and Wharton's prior correspondence. I think we can assume though that Wharton is still functioning in Atlanta."

"They're finally addressing Zack directly," Rossi commented, his voice crackling over the connection. "They want to lay the blame for this at his feet."

"Does he know?" Morgan asked.

"No, Garcia's under strict orders not to tell him," Hotch said. He turned to Reid. "That includes you, Reid. If he knows we could have a much bigger crisis on our hands."

Reid was quiet. He didn't trust himself to respond without his voice breaking and betraying how he was feeling. He just had to trust that the bureau and Garcia would keep Zack safe.

"By evening we shall be known again," JJ read off her screen. "What does that mean? Should we be expecting murders, abductions-"

"Dumped bodies or complete silver skeletons," Wendell tossed in. He had been discussing bone fragments and identities with Brennan but had been pulled back into this. He just wanted to be helpful.

"Bombings?" Morgan asked. "We know whoever's working in Detroit has the ability to make fairly sophisticated devices and the Gormogon in D.C. was definitely not afraid to use them."

Everyone stopped for a moment. If they do start bombing, they could have a far bigger number of casualties on their hands than they did already, and considering that the victim count on this case was already ridiculously high.

"We need to make sure local PD knows that we are expecting something to go down this evening," Hotch said.

"There are at least two Gormogons working out there that we haven't found yet," Reid said quietly. "What do we do if they are part of this attack?"

"There isn't anything we can do, unless you can find some evidence in the letters which would point to a home city," Hotch said. He hated the way Reid was currently looking at him.

Reid knew that if he'd have been able to find something as simple as that in the letters they'd have found it already, but he got up anyway to find the file where they'd got copies, to read them again and see if inspiration struck.

"All we can do is try and prepare local PD, and hope it's not too bad," Hotch said, looking round at his team. "We can be out on the streets as well but seeing as the Atlanta Gormogon has been taking photographs of us, I want everyone to be extra careful. I'm going to contact Agent Conrad in Vegas and make sure she's prepared in case anything goes down there."

"I'll call Det. Mandridge, just in case they decide to hit Cambridge," Rossi said.

The team simply nodded. It wasn't long to wait before evening, and if they had a chance as minimising the damage, they needed to do all they could. Nonetheless, they all still felt like they were sitting and waiting for disaster to strike.

-x-

Hotch and JJ had taken Atlanta's old fourth ward, hoping that Gormogon would strike in the same place as they'd dumped the body fifteen years prior. Emily and Reid had taken the area near the Centennial Park, seeing as there was a certain symbolism to bombing there as well. Wendell had decided that the more people they had on the streets the better and so had gone out with Agent Windsor.

In Detroit, Rossi and Anderson had paired off, and Morgan and Booth were out alongside Detroit PD. It was difficult, not having a clue what they were looking for. Despite spending most of the afternoon attempting to theorise, they had come up with nothing that seemed probable. There were a couple of things that seemed likely, but nothing that stood out.

It meant that unfortunately they had no idea what to expect. Given that in Atlanta the idea of calling attention to themselves had involved abducted two men, murdering one and then publicly dumping the body, they really didn't have much to go on.

Hotch looked around the fourth ward. The atmosphere didn't feel unusual. Everything was normal, or as normal as it could be when Hotch and JJ were expecting some sort of attack.

Emily was watching Reid almost as carefully as he was watching the streets. She knew he'd been struggling to keep everything under control, and this latest threat to Zack wasn't exactly helping keeping his stress levels down. He'd sworn that he could keep up with this, Emily had seen Hotch take him aside to ensure that, but Emily wanted to see for herself.

He was twitchy, but then Reid was always twitchy. They were attempting to not give up too much of an FBI look; if the Gormogon threat turned out to be an empty one they all knew the potential damage which could be caused simply by people thinking that there was a threat.

There was a crackle over the radio, one of the police officers. "I've got someone in all black, motorcycle helmet on, can't see the vehicle," and reeled off a location.

"That's closer to Hotch," Reid muttered, but he kept his eyes peeled anyway.

In Detroit, the situation was no better. They were all worried about the previous bombings. Analysing the fragments and reports on the bombs seemed to indicate that they were all small, contained devices. But they were sophisticated, and Morgan thought that it wouldn't be difficult for them to make and detonate a device on a much larger scale if they so chose.

Yates was out on the streets, as well, and a full contingent of police officers all looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Hotch and JJ were advancing towards where the police officer had spotted the suspicious figure. The lack of a vehicle made a body dump unlikely, but they still couldn't eliminate an abduction, murder, or a bomb. They weren't any closer.

It was a split second, but JJ swore she spotted someone matching the description walking briskly between two of the buildings. "There, Hotch," she said, quietly, not wanting to draw any attention.

Hotch tracked her eyeline, but he couldn't see anything. He trusted JJ though, and radioed across their position. One of the officers responded, briefly, and Hotch and JJ slipped through the gap between the buildings in pursuit.

Anderson didn't really feel equipped to be out in public, doing field work. He'd got a vest on under his shirt, but it didn't really make him feel much more secure. Rossi was a step in front of him, and all Anderson was doing was following and keeping his eyes open.

They were on East Lafayette Street, close to the centre of Detroit. Rossi had been drawn to the location because of the large cemetery down near Elmwood, and the number of people around to witness whatever spectacle Gormogon chose to put on.

Morgan and Booth had taken the rougher side of town. All the regular beat officers had been briefed, and extras had been brought in, so the streets were well covered. Anderson thought that there was little chance of them ending up anywhere near whatever did happen.

He realised then that Rossi had gotten quite far ahead of him, and didn't seem to have noticed how far behind he'd fallen. Anderson saw him turn, with a shocked expression on his face, yelling something at Anderson.

But Anderson couldn't hear it over the concussive boom that went out and the next thing he knew he was on the floor.

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

The noise of the explosion was quickly replaced by a constant ringing in Anderson's ear. He didn't know what had happened.

He tried to look up but the pain was excruciating, and it wasn't long before he passed out.

Chapter Text

In which the team has to deal with multiple explosions, Zack is kept in the dark and morning brings a most unwelcome surprise.

Emily heard the explosion ricochet across the city over the radio. She and Reid weren't close enough to be caught in the blast, but they felt the last of the shockwave pass over them. Reid looked to her, and both of them realised that JJ and Hotch were positioned next to the detonation zone. And they aren't responding to their comms.

Emily took off into a sprint, Reid running behind her. Citizens parted as she called FBI; their attention was focused towards the blast site. Reid spoke into the radio as his feet pounded the pavement, trying to get details on what was happening, and if they had a similar situation in Detroit.

It wasn't difficult to find the blast zone. The Atlanta Police already has the place surrounded, and there were agents from every department on their way. A couple of guys in ATF jackets jumped from an SUV as Prentiss pulled up to the square. She looked around, relieved when she saw JJ's blonde hair across from her.

Hotch was clutching his ear in a way that concerned Emily, and JJ had a minor cut on one cheek, but they were alright. By the time Emily looked back at Reid, he'd already worked out the quickest way across to their teammates.

Emily followed him. The first ambulance was already pulling up. They'd had everyone on high alert.

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking at Hotch. He didn't look as bad as he had from across the street, but it was clear that he'd need medical attention.

"What happened?" Reid asked JJ, once he'd looked her up and down and satisfied himself that she didn't have any major injuries.

JJ looked around. "We were chasing him. Thought we might be gaining on him when suddenly there's a flash and this almighty bang and I don't know what happened after that. LEOs went after him I think."

It wasn't much, but they can't blame JJ for not seeing what happened in the immediate aftermath. Trying to think clearly, standing there with oh so many sirens wailing full pelt was difficult.

"Anything from Detroit?" JJ asked.

Both Reid and Emily shook their heads. Emily attempted to wave a paramedic over to see to Hotch.

"If they've just had an explosion like this one, it's going to take a moment for it to get through," Reid said. He couldn't conceal his worry.

Just as he said it, his radio cackled. JJ's remained dead, knocked out by the explosion.

"Reports of an explosion in Detroit, casualties unknown." The team looked at each other, concerned. Emily had succeeded in getting the attention of a paramedic though, and he was looking at Hotch. They needed to make sure that they were all okay first.

-x-

"Baby girl, do you know what's going on?"

Morgan and Booth had heard reports of the explosion over their earpieces before that entire system had gone down, and all they'd managed to hear was that there was an explosion on Lafayette Street. They'd hopped in the SUV as soon as they'd heard, but they were having difficulty getting through.

"I've got an explosion in Atlanta, a couple of minutes before yours, Atlanta PD is flooding me with information at the moment, Emily and Reid are definitely fine."

"What about Vegas?" Booth asked.

"Nothing. Conrad seems almost disappointed," Garcia replied quickly.

"Anywhere else been bombed?" Morgan asked, taking a harsh left turn.

"If there is it hasn't quite made the news yet but I've got every channel open," Garcia said. "Wait. Phoenix. There's been an explosion in Phoenix."

"Arizona?" Morgan asked. "What are they doing there?"

Another harsh turn. At least the traffic was parting reasonably easily for the siren. "I don't know Chocolate Thunder," Garcia said. "And Charlotte. I'm getting reports similar there."

"This is Lafayette Street," Booth said.

"JJ and Hotch are fine as well, they're with Emily and Reid," Garcia said quickly, knowing she was about to lose them. "Find Rossi for me."

"I will," Morgan said, and hung up. He drove the SUV up to where all the other emergency vehicles are parked.

He saw Rossi as soon as he got out the SUV, much to his relief. But Anderson was nowhere to be seen, even when Morgan looked over the scene. "Rossi, what happened?" Morgan asked.

Taking a closer look at the scene, Morgan could see that Rossi was accompanying one of the paramedics who had a casualty being loaded up into one of the ambulances. Morgan left Booth behind to survey the scene, heading towards Rossi. "Anderson was caught in the blast," Rossi said quietly.

Morgan's face went slightly pale. "Is he—?"

Rossi gestured to the paramedic, tending to the casualty Morgan had seen Rossi with a moment ago. Looking closer, Morgan could see that it was Anderson. "Paramedics think they should be able to stabilise him. He was only on the fringe," Rossi said.

"Do either of you want to come with him?" The paramedic asked, having successfully loaded him up.

"You go," Morgan said to Rossi. "Call me when you know he's okay. We've had bombs in Atlanta, Phoenix and Charlotte as well as here," he said quickly.

"Not Vegas?" Rossi asked as he stepped inside the ambulance.

"Nothing so far," Morgan said, and the ambulance doors were closed, leaving Morgan to survey the destruction.

-x-

It was late and everyone was tired, but they had gathered to try and work out just what had happened. Hotch, JJ, Emily, Reid and Wendell sat in the conference room in Atlanta. Morgan, Rossi and Booth were in a waiting room attached to the emergency department. Anderson was out of surgery and the Doctors said he would be fine, but they were still waiting for him to wake up. They also had Garcia on conference. Sweets had arrived half an hour ago and was currently looking after Zack.

Everyone wore worn looks on their faces. Casualties hadn't been anywhere near as high as they could have been; they'd lost the most in Detroit, seven as a result of crashed cars in response to the bomb, and then a single death in Charlotte. Plus countless injuries across the five cities.

But as horrible as it all was, they all got the feeling that none of those deaths had been intentional. All of them were accidental, bad luck. If the Gormogons had wanted to kill people, to take out the BAU there were more effective ways of doing it.

In Atlanta, everyone looked at Hotch, hoping that he had something to say. "I've asked Agent Conrad to supervise the Phoenix investigation," Hotch said. "She's already up to speed and it will be easier that way."

"We got lucky today," Rossi said after another bout of silence. "The Bomb Squad are still pulling traces but looking at the locations of the bombs none of them are in particularly high traffic areas."

"They detonated the bomb in Atlanta only a block away from where Clegg's body was dumped fifteen years ago," Emily said. "We should consider if the locations are symbolic."

"The press has picked this up. It looks like Domestic Terrorism. It's made International News," JJ said. "None of them have picked up a link with the Gormogon case but there are so many people involved now, we won't be able to keep it under wraps for long."

"We keep it under as long as we can," Hotch said. "If they want attention to their cause we cannot give it to them."

"I can try," JJ said.

"I've locked down every piece of Gormogon evidence," Garcia said. "No one's getting in those files without prior authorisation. Camille Saroyan has tripled security on the Medico-Legal Lab."

"See if it can go any higher, Gormogon didn't have any trouble getting in last time," Booth said.

"They had an inside man, though," Morgan said beside him.

Booth didn't look pleased. "And we didn't know that until after it all happened and Zack was the last person anyone suspected."

"We should accept that they might have someone on the inside," Reid said, slowly and gravely. "Restrict access as much as is reasonable but that wouldn't have excluded Zack so we should assume that it is possible that they may have access to our information."

He didn't look happy about it, but everyone knew he was right. No one thought things were going to get any better from here.

"There'll be bureau personnel tailing everyone," Hotch said. "As a security precaution. Zack, especially, is not to go anywhere alone. Garcia you and him will be moved to a secure location tonight."

Garcia wanted to protest, but she caught a glimpse of the look on Reid's face and decided to stay silent. "Of course sir."

"Everyone should get some rest, we'll sort this out in the morning," Hotch said.

-x-

They hadn't been forced to share rooms for ease of security, but Reid thought that Hotch had probably considered it before deciding it wasn't worth the hassle. And despite the fact that Reid knew that tomorrow was going to be another very long day in an unending stream of very long days, he didn't feel able to sleep.

He was worried, about himself, about his team, about whoever is about to become the next victim to this crazy cult of serial killers. But most of all he was worried about Zack. He'd seen the other man's reaction to the thought of simply putting Reid in danger. Reid was worried about how he'd deal with the escalation.

He didn't know if he could rely on Zack's rationality and logic to know that this wasn't his fault. The old Zack, full of logic and reason probably would have no problem with it, but this was a Zack full of emotion and concern. Rossi and Hotch were keeping the details of whatever happened in Zack's psychiatric review to themselves but Reid knew that there was definitely something there and PTSD did not seem unlikely.

He sat on his bed, tapping one foot on the floor very slightly as he pushed the speed-dial that would reach Zack. Hopefully they hadn't forced them to lose their phones.

"Spencer?"

Zack sounded tired, and there was an undertone to his voice that Reid didn't like, but nothing immediately concerning.

"Hey, Zack." It was amazing, how much just hearing Zack's voice relaxed Reid. "Are you alright?"

"I don't like that everyone's refusing to tell me anything and they're treating me like I might break any second," Zack said. "Something big has happened."

There was just a hint of question in that statement, enough so that Reid answered yes. He struggled though, with what else to tell Zack. He didn't want to lie, but Hotch had made it clear earlier that Zack was not to know the full extent of what was going on, especially now that this investigation was current. "It's bad Zack. We'll get through it though."

"It would be nice to know what's going on," Zack said. "But I understand why you cannot tell me."

The ease at which Zack had accepted that he would be useless upset Reid. "I miss you," Reid said, letting his anger and upset seep into his voice. "I hate that this case is going on so long and that you can't be part of it and that I can't let you in and I hate not seeing you and I hate that this case could tear everything apart."

"That's not rational," Zack answered.

"I don't care about being rational Zack," Reid was practically yelling. Zack decided not to dignify it with an answer, which gave Reid a moment to calm down. "I'm sorry," he said, much quieter. "I don't like sitting here not knowing what they're up to and knowing that I could wake up tomorrow and they might have killed again or got to you..." he trailed off.

"Spencer," Zack started, pausing as he wondered just what to say. "You understand now why I didn't say anything."

"Yes," Reid replied.

"We had the first Gormogon case for a year," Zack said. "Almost every time you go out on a case you wait for more bodies to be found. Some times you wait and know that it might be your team next. And every time you still go and do your job and every time you come home and you catch the bad guy and everything is okay at the end." It was simplistic, but Zack remembered everything the others had always said about the horrors of their job. Angela had a grand store of such speeches.

"Zack, I've never had you to lose before," Reid said, quietly. Because that was what had upped the stakes in this case so much more than in any other. "I can't lose you."

Zack stayed quiet. He didn't have any response to that that seemed fitting, that weighed with the gravity of the situation, that didn't cheapen it or put too much pressure on Reid. "I know," he settled for, because Reid didn't start speaking again, try to fill in the blank silence with words to distract from what he'd said.

"I care about you, and my mom said that I had to tell you or I'd lose you and that terrifies me," Reid was babbling a little bit now. "She's right and it scares me but you have to know that I really do care."

Surprisingly, it was easier to respond to that. "I care about you too," Zack said. "No matter how irrational such feelings are."

Reid glanced at the time. He felt calmer now, slightly less on edge, but still not ready to sleep. "We have to be up early tomorrow, the bomb analysis should be back then, and we'll have a better idea of what to go on," he babbled.

"Spencer," Zack said, slowly, calmly. "You should sleep. I understand if it is difficult but you should try."

Reid settled into bed, pulling the sheet over himself but he still didn't feel anything more like sleeping. "When I was very little Mom used to sing me to sleep. Bob Dylan songs, over and over."

Zack's voice hummed softly. It was distorted by the phone speaker, but there was still a certain charm to it. "Zack, do you even know who Bob Dylan is?" Reid asked.

"No, but I remember one of his songs," Zack said, and Reid let himself be lulled by the sweet sound of Zack's voice singing softly his much loved childhood lullaby.

-x-

Hotch hated the early morning phone calls, but the brief description that Atlanta PD gave him was enough for him to wake the entire team. Twenty minutes after he'd gotten his phone call, he got one from Rossi, asking if they'd found the same thing.

Hotch had bundled everyone into SUVs then, and despite the fact that it was six in the morning, put the sirens on.

Everyone was weary, Reid looking especially tired without his morning coffee but if the PD description was accurate, they needed to see this before getting to work.

Hotch pulled up first, with JJ and Reid. Emily had Wendell and all his kit in another SUV, and then a third one carrying the agents assigned to the protective detail on the BAU.

As soon as they saw it, it was obvious that PD was not exaggerating their find. A complete skeleton, still partially covered in flesh, strung up above the centre of the bomb site, in the widow's son position, Gormogon knife in their chest. It wasn't possible to create a more obvious sign.

The BAU just stood there trying to take it in whilst Wendell put on a jumpsuit and gloves. "That's exactly what we did when we first saw it," one of the police officers commented.

Wendell approached, taking a moment to look the skeleton over. "It's one victim," he said, and the BAU all collectively breathed a sigh of relief. "Male, probably in his fifties, Caucasian," he said as he looked back up towards the skull.

"Time of death?" Hotch asked.

Wendell looked over the skeleton for a moment. "Accelerated decomp. He wasn't stored well. Probably only a couple of days."

"Cannibalism?" Emily asked and one of the police officers looked grim.

That one took Wendell a minute or so to answer. "Yes," he said. "Though not anywhere near as much as we've previously seen. None of these bones have been cooked," he commented.

The BAU looked at each other while Wendell continued looking over the skeleton, talking with one of the forensics techs about the photographs being taken. "I had a phone call from Rossi, I believe Detroit PD have found a similar body on their bomb site," Hotch said. "You should contact Charlotte and Arizona and see if they had similar cases," he said to one of the police officers, who simply nodded and went away to make that phone call.

"If the press gets this, it'll be mayhem," JJ said.

"We've been keeping them back, but I reckon someone's probably seen something," one of the officers said. "If you've got four of these, someone'll have seen something."

"Damage control then," Emily said.

"Wendell, do you want all this shipped back to the Jeffersonian?" Hotch asked.

Wendell considered for a moment. "I'll keep it here. The Jeffersonian's overflowing right now, especially if we've got four of these," he said.

"Both Charlotte and Arizona have similar cases," the young officer who Hotch had asked to investigate came back. "Arizona said that an Agent Conrad was already in charge, Charlotte are asking for help."

"We'll send someone," Hotch said. The officer nodded. He looked back to the team. "This is public. Far more public than they've ever been. We need to reconsider the profile and build it again considering their current actions."

"Whilst chasing suspects across nine states now," Emily said. "This couldn't get much tougher, could it?"

"At least we're no longer looking at twenty-year old dead cases," JJ said. And as much as they hated it, they all admitted that it was far easier to work with fresh evidence.

-x-

Chapter Text

In which Hodgins reaches a discovery about the bombs, Cam almost runs out of interns and Daisy and Wendell make a joint conclusion about some evidence which takes the case in a new direction.

The team helped Wendell. Samples were taken, the skeleton bundled into a body bag after reference pictures were taken. JJ warded off news crews, desperate for a scoop. So far, they didn't have anything on the murders; JJ's merely receiving enquiries about the bombings and the BAU's involvement.

Emily took over coordinating the local police force, leaving Hotch to work out what was happening elsewhere. He called Rossi first.

"How're you doing your end?" Rossi asked.

Hotch looked around, surveying the mess left by the blast the night before. Apart from the presence of the BAU, it didn't currently look like a murder scene. They wanted to limit the attention that the Gormogons got, attention that they do desperately craved. "Wendell's got the body down and is collecting samples. JJ's on damage control with the press as we speak."

"Morgan's trying to sweet-talk the reporter who found the body here into delaying the story," Rossi said. He chuckled. "I think he might do it, you know, she's young and rather flattered by the attention she's giving him."

"Even so, we won't keep this quiet for long," Hotch admitted. "Not with everything that went out last night about the bombings."

Rossi paused for a moment before answering. "We're lucky more people didn't get hurt Aaron. We're lucky it was only Anderson out of all the team who got caught in one of the blasts. Have you thought about how well most of the team fits the Gormogon victimology?"

It had crossed Hotch's mind at one point. He'd lost his father, even if it had been for the better. Reid had been abandoned. Morgan had been brought up by his mother. JJ's father had passed on, as had Emily's. And Garcia's biological father had died when she was very young as well. Rossi was the only one who wasn't a widows' son.

"I had thought about it, yes," Hotch replied.

"And those pictures that were sent to Zack? That was personal. They know we're here, they know we're involved, they know Zack's talking to us," Rossi said.

"And everyone has security on them," Hotch said. "Everyone's capable of looking after themselves."

"Just be careful down there," Rossi said. "Having Anderson in the hospital is plenty enough."

-x-

It had been a rough morning. They'd been raised from their beds by local PD, then confirmed they had four bodies on their hands, on at each of yesterday's bomb sites, and yet they still had no leads. Clark had taken the body, and there had been a discussion between members of the BAU the outcome of which was that Morgan and Rossi would take the lead investigating the bombings.

Booth wasn't terrifically happy about that whole state of affairs. He was, after all, a homicide detective. Rossi had gone to the hospital to see if they could get anything out of Anderson, who was finally awake, leaving Booth and Morgan to try and pull together the bombings.

Morgan was surprisingly calm, taking a hands on approach as he consulted with the bomb techs who had spent a large portion of last night attempting to rebuild the bomb, with little success. Booth knew that copies of everything had been sent to the Jeffersonian, so for lack of anything else to do but the tedious process of looking up every single connection he made the call to the Jeffersonian.

He spoke to Brennan for a few minutes; she looked tired, not that she was admitting it, and Booth was concerned that she was taking on way more stress than necessary. He was glad that she'd been talked out of field work, that she wasn't out there with one of these maniacs after her.

But she had work to do, and smiled briefly at him before she bustled off in her usual way. And then Hodgins appeared, clutching a couple of FBI issued folders.

"Well, the good news is that the bombs were all identical charges." Hodgins dropped the files on his desk.

Booth scrunched his face up, wondering if it was still too early in the morning. "Explain to me how that's good news?"

"Well instead of four bombers who are also serial murderers running around, you've got four serial murderers one of whom happens to be a bomber," Hodgins explained. "Slightly easier to catch."

"You sure?" Booth knew that Hodgins was good, but then so were the Gormogons. No one could afford any mistakes on this case.

"Everything's pointing that way. The chemical mix, the components, everything we've got so far matches perfectly. The bombs were made together, at the same location. They partially match the string of car bombings in Detroit that you're looking into, but they're completely different to the ones used to target you and Brennan."

Morgan had chosen that moment to slide back into the conference room. "The devices are sophisticated, whoever built them knew what they were doing." He looked to the screen, considering what he'd overheard.

"I reckon the Gormogon in Detroit made the bombs," Hodgins said. "I might be able to tie the chemical signature in the bombs down, but it'll take me a while."

"Get a location, send it to us immediately," Morgan said. He turned away, looking back at the wall where the reports on the previous bombings lay. "These bombs are similar enough to be a technique passed from master to apprentice, right?"

Hodgins took a moment to consider. "I'd say so, yes."

Booth could see that Morgan was thinking. "So Bobbins made the original bombs and Collier then learnt from him to make this set," Morgan said. "They weren't working together on the car bombings like we originally thought, Bobbins orchestrated those attacks separately."

"How does that help us?"

Morgan turned back to look at Booth. "I have no idea."

-x-

Cam wasn't sure what she had expected following the news that four cities had been bombed by the Gormogons, but this wasn't it. She'd got the photographs from all four crime scenes, each with a body which needed intricately going over. Then there was all the evidence that the BAU had found so far which was still at the Jeffersonian.

She put wondering what on earth she was going to do about it aside, choosing to go for coffee and breakfast before she drove to the Jeffersonian, aware in the knowledge that once they got started they won't be stopping.

She got another cup of coffee when she arrived at the Jeffersonian. No one else was there yet. No one had called Brennan yet; Cam figured that if she could get the others off before Brennan knew what was happening Brennan wouldn't demand to go out herself. Besides, they needed her in the lab. None of the interns knew what to do with the silver skeletons.

Cam contemplated sending Angela out, but decided that she too was better kept in a centralised location where everyone had access to her. Hodgins would stay too, to process everything that they sent back.

It was barely eight o'clock in the morning and yet Cam found herself waiting in the halls of the medico-legal lab impatiently.

Arastoo, surprisingly, was the first to arrive, bag slung over his shoulders. Cam had thought – as much as she was able to at the hour of the morning she'd had to make the call – about who she was going to send where. The who part had been relatively easy once she'd got down to it. She only had two interns left with anything resembling field experience.

The fact that neither of them had experience in chasing down vengeful ritual cannibals seemed a moot point in the current situation.

Sweets and Daisy arrived together. Cam hoped she wasn't making too much of a mistake in sending them out together. She handed Arastoo one stack of files, and Sweets and Daisy the other.

"Arastoo, you're going to Phoenix. Agent Conrad is your contact, she worked with the BAU in Vegas on this case a couple of days ago, she's up to speed with what's going on." Arastoo nodded, taking a moment to read through some of the details. Cam turned to Sweets and Daisy. "You two are off to Charlotte, where no one has any idea what's going on so Sweets that effectively puts you in charge." Cam worried slightly about quite how this was going to turn out. "An Agent Hines has been assigned the case, but you two will be the experts."

Sweets looked concerned. Daisy just looked excited. "You won't regret sending us Dr. Saroyan," Daisy started excitedly, but Cam gave her a look.

"Everything needs to be run back through Agent Hotchner. You need any help, call here, anything that could contribute to a profile, to the BAU. Penelope Garcia is the woman to talk to if you need anything sorting, she will get you whatever you need. Remember that we have four bodies, and by the time you get on the ground Wendell and Clark will probably already have preliminary findings, don't forget to consult with them,"

"Wendell's put together everything you should be looking for, and Dr. Brennan's included a list of all the discrepancies included on the Vegas silver skeleton. Make sure you look at them," Cam said. "And be careful. They may try and get to you. The FBI will have all of you under protection when you arrive, but be careful."

The three of them nod. Arastoo tucked the stack of files into his bag. Daisy grabbed her bag from where she'd placed it down on the floor, and they left through the glass doors. Cam took a moment to appreciate the emptiness of the medico-legal lab.

And then she turned, back to her office to try and make some sense of what had happened overnight.

-x-

After they left the bomb site in Atlanta, Hotch dispatched Wendell and a local FBI agent off to the crime lab, while the rest of the team gathered for breakfast. There wasn't much that they could do without having at least preliminary autopsy results on each of the victims, and that was going to take some time. Wendell had made it quite clear that he wasn't going to appreciate any of them hovering over him while he worked.

Having handed off the analysis of the bombings to Rossi and Morgan, the rest of the team faced trying to put together a profile concerning that morning's victims. The Jeffersonian would work on identifying all of the victims, assessing the damage done to the silver skeleton in Vegas. Hotch knew they only had a limited amount of time before the bureau called for an inter-agency task force. He wanted to resist that for as long as he could.

First, because the bigger this investigation got the more chance there was that the Gormogons could recruit an inside man, and secondly that Zack became all the more vulnerable the more people who knew the truth. Hotch didn't think it was fair to have the younger man damned again for his involvement with the Gormogons. And the moment anyone from outside their team came in, that was exactly what was going to happen.

Breakfast was a subdued affair. Reid was the quietest; he wasn't even falling back on his usual defence mechanism of interesting trivia about the food or china or diner style or anything. Hotch could see that he wasn't just upset though, he was quietly seething and if anyone pushed him the wrong way it would end very badly for them. The rest of the team wasn't that much better. JJ managed to persuade Reid to eat something, so they didn't have to worry about his crashing from hypoglycemic shock later in the day.

They get back to the office, back to their conference room to try and make some sense of the case. Windsor has all the coverage, every media outlet that has gotten their hands on the story, all the newspapers theorising on what could have cause the bombings in the morning edition. "Have you got someone on press?" Hotch asked Windsor, as the team circled round the papers.

"Our chief liaison for homicide has made it her top priority," Windsor replied. "She's been told to keep everything on the down low as much as possible."

Hotch nodded. "Good," he replied. JJ and Emily chose that moment to look up from their reading. Reid kept his head down, grabbing another bit of paper. "Anything in the press that seems odd?" he asked.

JJ shook her head. Emily slid a newspaper across so that Hotch could take a look for himself. "They've connected the bombings, but they haven't traced it back to Vegas or Cambridge or D.C. so it's alright at the moment, but given this morning's murders, once those details get out someone's going to make the connection back to the D.C. Gormogon case," Emily said.

Hotch knew she was right. He took a moment to scan the headline, but it was about the bombings and Rossi and Morgan were dealing with that. "Reid?" Hotch asked gently.

Reid looked up. "Zack doesn't know about any of this?" It was halfway between a statement and a question.

"Not if everyone's stuck to orders," Hotch replied. Reid still looked worried. "Garcia will look after him, Reid."

"I know," Reid replied.

Hotch looked back to the board, compiled with evidence. "Have any of the autopsy reports come back yet?" he asked Windsor.

"If anything comes through it'll go straight to your line," Windsor replied.

JJ, Emily and Reid have all followed Hotch's line of sight to the board. "What do we do now?" JJ asked.

"Build a profile," Hotch replied, as if it was going to be the simplest thing in the world.

-x-

Wendell had taken over the Medical Examiners' lab. He pitied anyone else who might find themselves murdered this morning, as pretty much every investigative force in the city was currently focused on the Gormogon case. An FBI Agent was lurking by the door to the lab, but otherwise Wendell was completely alone.

"I've got a fracture on the right radius," Wendell said.

Well, he wasn't completely alone. He'd got Clark hooked up on the computer, and Daisy had checked in five minutes ago to say she was finally at the Charlotte Morgue and that she was just setting up.

"Let me see," Clark said, and Wendell moved the camera so it can see a magnified view as well as bringing up the x-ray scan. "I've got a very similar fracture on the left radius here. It's almost uncanny."

Wendell brought up the x-rays Clark had sent over earlier. "I agree," he said.

"What was your estimated time of death?" Clark asked.

"I sent Hodgins something and he said over 72 hours," Wendell said. Which was concerning because the team hadn't even been in Atlanta then, the threat hadn't been delivered.

"This one's fresher, somewhere between 24 and 48 hours," Clark said. "I've sent Dr. Hodgins some samples, I wonder if he can narrow it down any further."

"I don't suppose it'll matter," Wendell said, moving the magnifier over to the victims wrist. There was some damage to the right scaffoid which was probably just defensive, but he couldn't overlook it. "BAU don't prosecute so strongly on forensics as we do. There are more important things to be concerned with as far as they're concerned." A pause followed. "Have you got an identity?"

"With the teeth gone, no luck with Dentals. DNA's on a rush and Agent Rossi has the BAU tech scouring missing lists for anyone matching," Clark said.

"Hey guys!" Wendell and Clark both turn to their monitors as a chirpy voice joined them.

"Hey Daisy," Wendell replied. He thought a moment. "I'm going to see if Arastoo's around." A couple of clicks bring their fellow intern into the picture. "Hey Arastoo, I know you've not landed yet but I figured if you knew what we'd got here it would make things your end quicker."

"Of course," Arastoo said.

"The Gormogon M.O. is a single stab wound to the heart, right?" Daisy asked, almost nervously.

"Every single body I've come across on the rather horrifying case has that as the cause of death," Wendell confirmed. He'd sort of expected Daisy to have read the file, it was the very basic of basics.

Daisy was busy trying to show him something, though. Wendell peered over at the monitor. The skeleton wasn't cleaned, and the quality of the picture was bad, but Wendell could see what she was indicating. "That's more than one stab," Daisy said. "Looks like this guy got a little bit overexcited."

Wendell wasn't a profiler, but that didn't fit for him, at all. "Is there anything else odd, Daisy?" he asked.

"I've only been looking at the body for like ten minutes, Wendell, I'm good but I'm not that good," she replied.

Wendell grabbed the folder which had all the photographs from the earlier crime scenes in. He'd been handed it by Hotch, along with a look that said he needed to find something so they could catch these guys.

"Daisy, can you focus on the leg?" Wendell asked, spotting something.

Daisy did so, moving her camera so the others could see what she had found. "Oh god," she said.

"Do you guys see that?" Wendell asked.

Clark nodded, but Arastoo, whose picture was of much lower quality due to the fact he was still in midair, answered in the negative.

"There's two of them," Daisy said.

-x-

Chapter Text

In which Zack attempts to do a good deed and it backfires, Agent Conrad has very little sleep and Hotch battles Strauss to let them keep the case.

Zack didn't know what was going on but he knew it wasn't good. The safehouse he and Garcia had been taken to was abuzz by six o'clock in the morning. Zack knew something big had happened last night, and it looked like something else had happened this morning, but all the agents kept quiet the moment that they even thought he was in earshot.

They were quickly returned to the BAU, with Garcia being needed to continue and her job needs doing. Morgan's office, just along the hall from Garcia's, was deemed the best place to put Zack, so he'd spent the past couple of hours sitting in there, supervised at all times by an Agent who fulfilled every bit of Hodgins' paranoid secretive government conspiracy nonsense from back in the day.

There were agents bustling up and down the corridor which connected the BAU bullpen to Garcia's office and the rest of the FBI, all of them looking busy and carrying files. Zack really did wonder what had happened because usually the BAU was relatively quiet and the team rarely got anyone else involved in their hunts.

The worst thing was that he hadn't been allowed to grab any reading material, and Morgan didn't seem big on keeping much in his office. There was a stack of case files, but Zack knew the kind of trouble he'd be in if he touched any of those, so he steered well clear of them. The FBI rulebook was on one of his shelves, and it was a thick bulky thing, but Zack had read it already on one of his trips to the FBI headquarters in D.C. in Booth's office, and couldn't remember it being a particularly riveting experience.

Also, he knew that there was a book on the impact of theoretical physics on real world engineering in Spencer's drawer not fifty metres away in the bullpen, and he'd much rather be reading something that was of interest to him.

A couple more hours of boredom, and it occurred to Zack that first he was getting rather thirsty, and that secondly he hadn't seen Garcia come out of her office once and this was usually around the time at which just a little bit of caffeine was required to keep her going.

Zack got up, and the Agent guarding him just gave him a look. "I want to go to the break area to get myself a drink," Zack explained. "It is a task I have performed several times in the past week without fail and without any serial killers attempting to disturb me."

The Agent didn't look all that happy about it, but he did let Zack leave. Walking into the bullpen, Zack managed to make enough of a detour to get that theoretical physics book out of Spencer's desk. Fixing himself a tea, and Garcia's usual sweet milky coffee, while the Agent simply poured himself a cup of black mess from the coffee pot, he then turned to go back to Morgan's office.

"What do you need with two drinks?" the agent asked.

"One's for technical analyst Garcia. I'm allowed to take it to her, right?" Zack responded, walking out of the bullpen and towards Garcia's office.

"Hand it over at her door," the agent said.

Zack knocked on Garcia's door, heard the cry of come in, and pushed it open slightly. Garcia got to her feet, bringing the door just a little bit more open so she can get her coffee off Zack without too much difficulty, but that meant that Zack had full view of the screen Garcia currently had playing the local news feed from Atlanta.

Which currently had on the screen a banner of: breaking news - skeleton found at yesterday's bomb site. And had a reporter standing amongst that damage done by the bomb. And the news then decided to cycle through footage taken immediately after the bombings.

Garcia grabbed her coffee, and then just managed to save Zack's as his fingers went slack. He was white with shock.

Garcia looked to the agent in charge of Zack, who wordlessly took Zack's drink off her and closed her office door, leaving Zack still unable to process the news.

"We're going back to the office," the agent simply said, but it didn't result in any response from Zack.

The agent looked down at his too full hands. Morgan's office was only a couple of metres down the hall, he'd be able to see Zack the entire time, so he moved slowly to put the drinks down. Though it seemed even if Zack wasn't capable of forming words, he was understanding them, as he followed.

Zack sat down, sinking completely into the chair he'd earlier been balancing so precariously on. "How many?" he asked, after a few minutes.

"I'm not supposed to tell you," the agent responded. He wondered if this was a big enough deal to call Agent Hotchner about, or if it was best to just leave it until his next check in.

Zack didn't meet his eyes, just looked down. He was still just as pale as he had been when he'd first seen that news footage, and that was worrying.

"How many?" he repeated, but this time it was softer, to himself.

The agent didn't really know what to say in response to that. He was just on protection detail, nothing like this was supposed to happen.

Zack turned himself completely away, into the chair, long legs curled up.

Definitely time to consult Agent Hotchner about what the hell he was supposed to do.

-x-

The team was in the middle of trying to pin down anything that would help them catch these guys when Hotch got the call. He excused himself for a moment, Emily taking over, taking on the cult angle which they were currently pursuing.

"This is Agent Hotchner, what is it?" he asked.

"Zack found out," the agent said on the other end of the phone.

"How?" Hotch said, harsher than he meant to. It was enough to get Emily to glance over, but luckily not Reid.

"He was delivering a coffee to Agent Garcia and caught the footage," the agent answered. "It was an accident."

Hotch turned away, not wanting to disturb the others. Reid was currently in the middle of an argument about the Gormogon's motivations, JJ chiming in with something or other. "And how is he?"

"Not good. He's curled up in Agent Morgan's office, won't say a word."

Hotch thought about it a moment. Garcia might be able to pull him out of it, but he also knew that Garcia was busy attempting to run down identities on their four bodies and that was her top priority at the moment. He remembered how bad Zack had gotten back at the Jeffersonian, how panicked he'd got over the idea that he might have hurt Reid.

"Can I speak to him?" Hotch asked. There was a chance that this might not be anywhere near as bad as the poor agent on detail was making it out to be.

The agent handed him over without a word. "Zack?" Hotch asked. Reid looked over, questioning what was going on, but Hotch didn't meet his eyes.

"How many people, Hotch?" Zack's voice came out as barely a whisper, so desperately broken that Hotch didn't have any idea what he was going to do.

"You don't want to know Zack, it doesn't matter, it wasn't your fault," Hotch said.

At that Reid definitely had his eyes fixed on Hotch, eyebrows furrowed. Emily and JJ had stopped working too, as they looked between Hotch and Reid. "Hotch?" Reid asked.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Hotch heard Zack whisper, and Hotch could feel that it wasn't particularly aimed at anyone.

Reid looked desperate, trying to work out what was going on, why Hotch would be getting calls from Zack. Hotch removed his phone from his ear and covered the mike. "Zack found out about the bombings and the murders," he said.

Emily and JJ both look suitably shocked, aware of how much had be done to keep Zack out of it. Reid was on his feet though, over to Hotch and the phone in an instant. "Let me talk to him," Reid said gently to Hotch, and Hotch didn't know how to deny him that. He handed over the phone. "Zack, it's Spencer."

"Spencer?" Reid recoiled from how broken Zack's voice was.

Hotch placed a reassuring hand on Reid's shoulder, as Reid wondered exactly what he could say to Zack. "Hotch is right, it's not your fault, Zack, you had nothing to do with this, it's going to be okay, we're going to catch the guys who did this." Reid's voice was dangerously close to breaking. Hotch was tempted to just take the phone back off Reid but part of him could tell that both of them needed this.

Zack nodded on his end, but then he thought about the fact that Spencer couldn't exactly see that. He didn't really believe Spencer either. "Please don't get yourself in any trouble. I can't lose you," Zack breathed.

"I'll try," Reid said. Hotch took the phone off him.

"Zack, just stay calm," Hotch said, meeting Reid's eyes and hopefully implying that the same thing applied to Reid. "Do you want us to get someone to come and sit with you?"

Zack was silent a moment, and then responded, "I'll be okay."

"If you need anything, just call," Hotch said, and waited for Zack to make an affirmative noise in response before hanging up his phone. "I'm going to call Camille Saroyan, make sure she knows. She might be able to get over to Quantico."

-x-

Arastoo knew that he was the last one on the ground. He was simply confirming the results that everyone else had found, and if anything differed in Phoenix.

There was a young, dark haired woman, in a smart shirt and dark well cut trousers, and Arastoo could read FBI on her. And she looked just like Brennan did after she'd spent all night in the lab, that desperately tired but still raring to go look. "You must be Arastoo Vaziri," she said as Arastoo approached her.

"Agent Conrad," Arastoo said in return, shaking her hand. She'd already grabbed the case containing all the essential tools the Jeffersonian had sent out with him. Arastoo had a go bag slung over his shoulder, and then a satchel which contained all of the case files Cam had given him that morning. Arastoo fell into step beside her as she walked through the airport with confidence. "How are things here?"

"Bad, but just as bad as everywhere else," Conrad answered honestly. "I need you with that body though, I have Agent Hotchner on my case about whether there's anything different about it and you are supposedly the only person with clearance and and the expertise required to do the job."

"Of course," Arastoo replied. There was an SUV waiting, engine still running, when they exited the airport. Conrad quickly placed the case she was carrying in the back, Arastoo flung his bags in, and then Conrad was in the front seat, buckling her seatbelt and placing her hands on the wheel. She paused briefly as she waited for Arastoo to do the same, and they were off.

The drive over to the Phoenix crime lab was quiet. Conrad had her lights flashing, and it didn't take all that long for them to get there. Conrad was out of her seat and had grabbed both the equipment case and the files before Arastoo had unbuckled his seatbelt.

A quick flash of ID at the door and there was a tech waiting to take both of them down to the body. Conrad placed the case down on one of the tables while Arastoo found a lab coat. "How do I contact you when I have results?"

"I'm staying here," Conrad said firmly. Arastoo raised an eye to look at her, but he knew better than to argue with an FBI agent who'd gotten something into their head.

Instead, he got to work, looking at the stab wound to the heart. Following Daisy's discovery of two Gormogons in Charlotte, he wanted to make sure that nothing like that existed here. He was also aware of the discrepancies found in Vegas and the possibility that whoever was working in Vegas had simply moved across to Phoenix; it wasn't as if it was exactly very far to go. "Single stab wound to the heart, consistent with Atlanta and Detroit as well as all previous victims," he said. He'd been able to surmise as much from the x-rays though. He'd swab for minute particulate evidence later.

Conrad just sat there, flicking through a file. "And Charlotte?"

Arastoo was sweeping the body for signs of cannibalism. "It took three attempts," Arastoo said. "It's in the report."

"Which I haven't had time to read because the entirety of the Phoenix FBI office, as well as the PD, is looking at me like I have the solutions to all their problems," Conrad said. "Half of them resent that I've been parachuted in over their heads while the other half thinks that because I've been called in specially I have some sort of expertise on this and therefore know what's going on."

"Why are you here?" Arastoo asked. He brought a magnifier over as he looked over at the set of x-rays, and then went for the file Wendell had sent over on the Atlanta body.

"Because I was put on the case a couple of days ago whilst they were looking for one of them in Vegas and that apparently makes me better qualified for this job than anyone else."

Arastoo didn't really know what to make of it, but he was finding astonishingly few teeth marks on this body compared to the one which Wendell had got. He went for Daisy and Clark's reports. "When was the last time you slept?"

Agent Conrad paused for a moment. "Thirty-six hours ago," she admitted.

"There are much less prominent signs of cannibalism on this body than the others," Arastoo said, and Conrad looked at him befuddled by the change in topic. "Call Agent Hotchner and inform him whilst the stab wound is consistent the signs of cannibalism aren't and I'll have a full report for him within the hour. I will then get to work on that full report and you can have a nap for the hour. Autopsy tables are more comfortable then you think."

-x-

They weren't any closer to a breakthrough. Reid had poured himself back into the letters, willing the code to work itself out in his head. Hotch was sure that their genius would solve it eventually, he just wasn't sure they had time to be focusing on it. The identities on the bodies had come back, but there wasn't anything immediately helpful there, even though JJ and Emily had spent that last hour going through every inch of the files. They'd fallen back to the profile, but that didn't mean they had a viable suspect.

And worst, Hotch was still fielding calls from news outlets and FBI offices and he was sure as soon as the media fully put together the impact of the Gormogon case he'd be getting calls from up and down the country from anyone who's had a loved one go missing. He'd sent the rest of the team on ahead to the hotel, they could all do with the rest and there wasn't any sign that they'd get a break today and maybe in the morning there would be more contact from the Gormogons and they'd get a lead.

Windsor was still there as well, organising the small team of agents who'd been let into the Gormogon case and were taking as much of the work as they reasonably could. Most of it was dealing with the overwhelmed Charlotte field office, partially because Agent Hines didn't seem to have a clue what he was up to and didn't seem very impressed with the outsiders that Washington had sent in.

The phone sitting on the desk that Hotch was currently occupying. He picked it up, used to the motion by now. "Agent Hotchner speaking."

"Agent Hotchner." It was Erin Strauss on the phone. "How's it going?"

"We have identities on all four bodies and they think they might have a lead in Detroit," Hotch answered back.

It took a moment for Strauss to reply. "Have you found anything in Atlanta?" she asked. "You've been there for a couple of days already, I expect results."

"With respect ma'am, this case is incredibly complicated and we are dealing with criminals who have managed to avoid the law for at least thirty years, most likely a lot longer," Hotch replied.

"The assistant director wants more people on this case. It's big enough for a multi-agency task force and it certainly seems like you need one," Strauss said.

"I've said before that I don't think that's a good idea. There are enough people on this case to keep in the loop already, many more and we risk having very little idea of what's going on," Hotch said. "They've had people on the inside before, I'd rather keep this as small as I can."

Hotch could hear Strauss sighing on the other end of the phone. "And that man is currently in our headquarters and has had far too much access to this investigation."

"Zack Addy is a good man," Hotch said. "He wants them caught as much as we do."

"You could at least give something to counter-terrorism," Strauss said. "I've been fielding calls from them all day asking why this is still a BAU investigation."

Hotch sighed. "Because they aren't terrorist attacks, not in the traditional sense and counter terrorism wouldn't be able to do anything about it."

"And those letters? Has any of your team managed to decode them yet?" Strauss asked.

"No," Hotch said.

"There are departments dedicated to decoding these sorts of things, Agent Hotchner, you should hand them over."

"Does counter-terrorism happen to have anyone with an IQ of over 180 and extensive knowledge of Gormogon ideology lying around because that's what it's going to take to break this code," Hotch replied, a little bit more irritated than he meant to.

"Twenty-four hours. If you haven't made significant progress by tomorrow night, I will hand this case over to a taskforce and most likely remove most of your team from it."

Strauss hung up before Hotch managed to get a reply in.

-x-

There was a chill in the night air as Hotch left the Atlanta field office. It wasn't a long drive to the hotel, and all the agents that had been assigned to protect the BAU were already there - seeing as Hotch had given orders that Reid was the one to really watch, given his previous ability to get into trouble. He'd be fine on his own.

The SUV unlocked easily, and Hotch looked around briefly to check that no one was around, before getting in and starting the ignition. He'd gotten maybe a minute from the FBI office when suddenly a crash sounded, and Hotch saw smoke erupting from the bonnet of the SUV, and then everything went black.

Chapter Text

In which the BAU receive a ransom note, breakthroughs are made in Detroit and JJ steps up to the plate of responsibility.

It was three in the morning when the security detail realised Hotch was missing, and not out for a midnight wander. It left them at a loss; no one had thought Hotch would be the first to be taken. It wasn't clear who would take charge now. They placed a call to the team in Detroit, asking them to inform Agent Rossi.

The agent-in-charge ended up in front of Jennifer Jareau's door, as the one most likely to take the news calmly. She answered bleary eyed, blanched white at the news, and then moved quickly to knock on Reid and Emily's doors.

Reid had bags under his eyes when he opened the door, but he startled into life when he heard Hotch was missing. Following that, they woke Wendell to head to the crime scene, while Emily called Garcia to see if she could ping Hotch via cellphone. JJ took charge once they'd awoken them and they tracked Hotch's cell out to an alleyway between the field office and their hotel and none of them were surprised when they found it dumped.

Emily stayed with Wendell at the crime scene with a couple of local agents while JJ and Reid went back to the field office to try and profile a response, a location where Hotch might be being held.

There was coffee awaiting them when they reached their conference room. They put Garcia on speaker the moment they arrived.

"Okay, he's been gone four hours," JJ said, standing looking at the boards. "Why take Hotch?"

"Because he was the one they could get to," Reid replied. "He fits the base victimology."

"We all do," JJ replied, working it out. "And they'd have to know about us."

"They'd just have to google Hotch. His father's obituary's easy to find, darlings," Garcia said over the phone.

JJ just sighed and stared back at the information tacked on the walls. "Can you work any magic with one of those inverted compass things?" JJ asked Reid, squinting at a map which was tacked up.

"Angela and I went over it yesterday, we just don't have enough data to collate one. Atlanta wasn't built according to Freemason codes as D.C. was."

JJ looked over at him, debating whether the best course of action would be to have Reid scour the map again or to put him on something else that might help find Hotch. "Please say Wendell and Emily have found something. Hotch probably doesn't have much time."

-x-

Come sunrise the Atlanta Field Office turned into a bustling commotion, everyone making their best efforts to find the missing Unit Chief from Quantico. Whilst JJ fielded a phone call from Strauss which none of them needed, Emily and Reid sat in the conference room grabbing breakfast. Wendell was already at the lab, processing the last of the evidence from the murder of the previous morning and trying to find anything in the minute traces they'd managed to pick up at Hotch's abduction scene.

The phone rang. Emily, the more awake of the pair, reached across to answer it. "Agents Prentiss and Reid," she said.

"My doves, I have news," Garcia's sparkling voice rang out.

Reid's eyes widen and he looked up. "Have you found him?" Emily asked.

"No," Garcia said, but she quickly moved onto the next thing. "We've received a ransom note though."

"What did it say?" Reid asked, as Emily signalled for JJ to join them in the conference room.

"That they've got Hotch, and they want to exchange him for Zack," Garcia said. "Central Park this evening."

"Anything on the letter?" JJ asked. It was a long shot, seeing as they hadn't had anything so far.

"Posted last night before they even had Hotch," Garcia said. "It's addressed to Reid and Zack's apartment, the postal system caught it before it went out."

Emily and JJ looked at each other. "That's self-assured, posting a ransom demand before they've even got the captive," Emily said.

"What do we do now though," JJ asked.

Emily looked across at Reid, who'd sunk into one of the chairs. If he'd been wearing a weary look over the last weak he looked absolutely exhausted right now. He placed his head in his hands. JJ sat down next to him, reaching a hand out to place it over one of his.

"We'll work something out Reid," Emily said as she also sat down, switching from profiler to concerned friend. JJ was running her hand over Reid's, willing him to respond.

"What though?" he asked, weakly. He lifted his eyes up but didn't raise his shoulders.

JJ and Emily looked at each other, wondering if there was actually a solution to their problem.

-x-

"Baby girl, just get us a copy of that note, okay?"

Morgan's voice was weary, without the usual spark of happiness it held when talking to Garcia. Not that that surprised anyone. As Morgan slipped his phone back into his pocket, he turned to look at the others gathered around the table. Rossi was leaning against the table, looking just as anxious as Morgan, whilst Clark was reading some report the Jeffersonian had sent. Yates and Booth both hung back.

"They've received a ransom note for Hotch. They want Zack, no one's really sure what they're planning after that, but anything we can provide here that might indicate their aims has to help," Morgan said.

"Didn't the Jeffersonian have a lead on a possible location with chemical signatures?" Yates asked.

Clark dropped the report on the desk and rose to pin a map against the wall. "Hodgins believes the bombs were made in one of these buildings." There were a dozen areas of old warehouses highlighted.

"Anything else we can do to narrow it down?" Yates asked. "It'll take days to clear all those warehouses properly."

"Can you guys narrow it down with a profile anymore?" Booth looked concerned. "If we move in too fast we'll lose them. I know. If he's anything like the one we found in D.C. he won't be afraid to fight dirty to get out, we need to have the element of surprise on our side."

"Reid might be able to narrow it down with a geographic profile—" Morgan saw Rossi shake his head and stopped.

"Reid's got too much to do, and I don't think it'd help. What about the compass points, is there anything lining up?" Rossi turned his gaze towards the map that Clark had pinned to the wall.

"Pick out the most important places and we might?" Clark suggested, marking down the site of the explosion. "We've got an abundance of sites none of which hold much in the way of significance, if you can start narrowing down what they might actually be using we might have something."

Booth cocked his head as he took it all in. "Could Angela make some more sense of this?"

"More than I can," Clark responded. "It's more her area."

"Get her on it," Rossi said, and Clark scrabbled to go tell her.

-x-

It took a set of phone calls back and forth between JJ and Rossi and Strauss and Rossi overriding Strauss and Zack sat with a psychiatrist and Cam Saroyan, and they still didn't really know what they were going to do. All they'd managed to decide was that Zack was getting on a plane and coming out here and that would buy them some more time, time to sort out what exactly they were going to do.

Emily and Windsor had gone out to get Zack from the airport, whilst Wendell sat with Reid and looked over the forensics for the dozenth time, and JJ was on the phone with Rossi and Morgan as they tried to work out if they could trust anything that the Gormogons were saying, if Hotch was even alive, and what on earth they'd do to Zack if they did give him over.

Reid was vaguely paying attention to what Wendell was saying, taking some small comfort in the facts and trying to work it all out, but nothing could distract him from the reality that they were facing. That there was a very good chance that they might lose either Zack or Hotch or quite possibly both of them.

And then he looked up when he heard the door to their conference room open and Emily's swish of raven hair as she walked through. But Reid only noticed that for a second, as his eyes locked on Zack who walked in behind her.

He looked frail, pale, but there was determination in his eyes alongside the fear. He stepped out from behind Emily, and faced everyone. "I'm sorry," he said shakily. "This is all my fault."

JJ stood up, walked over to Zack and hugged him. Zack went stiff at first, not sure how to react. "No one's blaming you for it," she said.

"We're going to find a way to get Hotch back," Emily added, placing a comforting hand on Zack's shoulder.

Reid approached, cautiously, as Zack pulled himself out of JJ's arms. "Morgan thinks they might have a lead in Detroit. We could get lucky." He brought a hand up to cup Zack's cheek, brushing his thumb over the bone. Zack lent into the touch, into Reid's arms. Reid brushed a kiss to Zack's temple.

"If it doesn't," Zack said, voice shaky. "Hand me over. You need Hotch back. He's more important than I am."

Emily, JJ and Reid all looked horrified. "You're more important to me," Reid said, very quietly. JJ and Emily might have overheard, but no one else did.

"We won't just hand you over Zack," JJ said.

Next to her, Emily added, "Hotch would have our heads for even considering it."

-x-

Rossi and Morgan both looked up in surprise as Clark came bursting into their conference room, clutching a map and a phone. He quickly placed the map down on the table, spreading it out and flattening it. Booth came over, wondering what the commotion was about.

"We think we've got it," Clark explained to the raised eyebrows.

One of the warehouses that Hodgins had highlighted earlier was now circled.

"It's the only one that fits," Angela explained, her voice crackling over the connection. "I've been trying to overlay the compass onto Detroit all morning and we can't get it to work in any combination—"

"So we threw that out the window," Hodgins added. "Went back to the science."

"We knew they were working in the warehouse district, we knew they need somewhere large, that the bombs are picking up a lot of chemical traces which indicate industrial—"

"Which wasn't actually that helpful because Detroit is all industrial." Hodgins took over from Angela. "But then we started really thinking about it—"

"Are you sure?" Morgan was already reaching for his gun at his side, ready to leap out the door.

"Is it enough for a warrant?" Rossi added, thinking about the wider implications.

"Yes." Angela and Hodgins both answered.

Rossi, Morgan and Booth all looked at each other. "Let's go," Morgan said.

Booth grabbed the map off Clark. "Get that warrant and make sure everyone knows what's happening," he said. Clark just watched in silence as Booth tore down the corridor after Morgan and Rossi, who were grabbing half a dozen agents from their desks as they prepared for the assault.

"What do we do now?" Angela asked.

Clark sighed. "Email everything over to the DA, I think. And hope they find something."

-x-

The warehouse that Angela and Hodgins had pinpointed didn't stand out as Morgan and Rossi drove up to it. It looked, in fact, perfectly normal. Exiting their SUV, both of them pulled their kevlar vests on. Booth came up behind them, already in full tactical gear. He'd briefed SWAT on the way over, being the only person who had experience with capturing a Gormogon. Yates had a bomb squad with her, all of whom already knew the details of the bombings. There were also several forensics units just waiting to be called in once they'd cleared the building.

"As far as we can tell, there are three main entrances into the warehouse," Booth said, pointing them out on a plan he spread over the hood of the SUV. "I'll take half of SWAT in through the front, Yates is going to take the other half through the side and you two can cover the back."

Morgan nodded resolutely. They'd grabbed enough FBI agents to cover the perimeter, and he knew local PD were also on their way. "Let's do it then."

SWAT fell in, well practised. None of them actually knew if Collier would be inside the building, or what they'd find. Rossi and Morgan breached the back of the building, and they saw the SWAT agents sweep the ground floor quickly and efficiently. There was nothing of interest there, at least nothing they could see without a more detailed look. Rossi and Morgan headed up the stairs to the second level, followed by Booth and his half of the SWAT team as Yates and her half cleared the ground floor definitively.

The second level was more promising. The smell hit clearly; rotting, roasting flesh with a clear side of chemical burning. Morgan recognised explosive chemicals in the mix. Rossi and Booth both looked at him, and he nodded. Booth indicated for SWAT to start clearing through the level. Rossi and Morgan spotted the stairs towards the third level.

They ascended the steps slowly. No sign of Collier yet was making them nervous. A door, locked, was waiting at the top of the steps. Morgan tried the handle carefully, discovering it to be locked. A quick glance at the frame revealed it wasn't going to break easily, so Rossi stepped back to allow Morgan to shoot the lock.

Booth's voice crackled over their earpieces then. "This floor's clear, we're definitely in the right place but no sign of Collier."

"Affirmative," Morgan replied, hands gripped on his gun as he aimed at the lock. He glanced back to Rossi, checking that he was ready. A quick nod from his partner and gun went off, shot echoing, and Morgan rushed through the door.

It opened out onto a corridor, and Morgan and Rossi walk up it carefully, checking doors at the side. The Gormogon's sense of drama made it almost certain that, if he was here, he'd be behind the door at the end of the corridor.

Morgan was well aware that they probably didn't have surprise on their side anymore, so he didn't bother being subtle as he tried the door. To his surprise, it swung open.

The room was small, empty almost, except a desk on the wall opposite the door. A man sat there, back to Rossi and Morgan. He didn't flinch at the intrusion, didn't turn around.

"Hands where we can see them," Rossi said, as Morgan advanced cautiously. He looked around the room for wires, some sort of evidence of a bomb. There isn't any.

"Oh why do I have the boring half?" Collier's voice was deep and mocking, and he still hadn't moved his hands. He turned his head round. Rossi was surprised at the youth that was still present in Collier's distorted features. "Oh and the ugly half. What happened to all those pretty young things you hire?"

Morgan was close enough now to see that Collier wasn't grasping anything that looked like a trigger, nor seemed to have a weapon on him.

"Just take me in, already. We all know what happens now." Collier proferred his wrists to Morgan. "What's the time anyway? Have you made your pretty little exchange in Atlanta yet?" Morgan was cuffing him, but Collier didn't seem to care. "You've taken me down, you honestly think it'll make a difference?"

Morgan and Rossi shared a look, and decided to ignore his ramblings as Morgan read out his rights. Collier got to his feet, expectantly, and allowed himself to be ushered out the room with little fuss. Morgan and Rossi handed him over to Yates, who was waiting. "There's your guy," Morgan said. "Watch him carefully, these guys have a habit of dying on us."

Yates nodded and took Collier. A team of half a dozen SWAT agents surrounded her.

Rossi checked his watch. "We've got fifteen minutes until the exchange is due to go down. I suggest we find something."

-x-

"They've got Collier," Wendell said.

Emily wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but that was difficult to do when they were faced with their situation. She looked across at Zack, who was sitting exceptionally calmly in the back of the SUV considering he was fifteen minutes away from being handed over to a serial killer.

"Anything they find, make sure we know immediately," Emily said. Wendell nodded. "How much further is it?" she asked the agent sitting in the driver's seat.

"About five minutes," they replied.

They'd had people on the meet location since the ransom demand had come in. JJ and Reid were both in another SUV; Emily was in charge of the handover. The fact that Collier was now in custody was good, but potentially too late to be a game changer.

No one really knew how this was going to play out. Everything they'd put together said that Atlanta would play by his own rules, that Zack was worth far more to them than Hotch was; that they were fixated on Zack. Which was good for Hotch's chances of survival, but not so for Zack.

"You know the plan, right?" Emily said.

Zack nodded. "Yes." Not that there was much of one. But they'd wired Zack up, put half a dozen trackers on him. He looked slightly ridiculous in the FBI issue jacket that he was wearing, the contrast telling how pale he was.

"Less than two minutes," came the call from the front.

Emily leaned over to wire in Zack's earpiece. "When Gormogon gets you, this'll be the first thing he takes most likely, but until that point I'm going to be with you all the way. I'll be listening to every response you give on the wire, as is Spencer, and JJ, and Garcia, and half a dozen technical analysts so if you want us to know anything speak and we will hear you."

"I understand."

"They'll probably be a secondary, if not a tertiary location. We don't think this is going to be a straight swap," Emily continued, hands lingering as she smoothed down the collar of the FBI issue jacket. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's the best chance we have for getting everyone out, right?"

Emily wasn't so convinced of that herself, but she couldn't let on. "Yes." Wendell, at the side, also nodded.

"We're pulling in right now," the Agent at the front said.

Emily quickly checked her own wire, and then her sidearm. "Okay Zack, are you ready?

Chapter Text

In which Rossi realises something very important, Emily prepares to hand Zack over and it all predictably goes horribly wrong.

Rossi rifled through the desk Collier kept at the top of the building, looking for anything that indicated what the group was planning. Morgan and Booth had the floor below, but there wasn't much that was helpful. The two silver skeletons they'd found - one complete, one partial - assured them that they were definitely in the right place, but it wasn't much good to them now.

Bomb fragments were swiftly discarded, the newspaper articles related to the bombings - it was interesting that he had them, but it wasn't going to give Emily the upper hand in her exchange. A couple more sheets of paper, and then; something interesting.

"Morgan!" Rossi sorts through a set of photographs not dissimilar to the set they'd been mailed, the evidence of the team being stalked.

Morgan ran up the stairs, quickly finding himself at Rossi's side. "What is it?"

"Listen to this: Dearest Collier, I am so close to completion. The traitor is almost in our grasp. Six bodies and my skeleton will be whole, my legacy complete."

"Where's he going to get six bodies from? Even if he gets away with both Hotch and Zack, that's only two," Morgan said as he took the letter from Rossi, reading over the rest of the words.

Rossi still had the photographs. "I had words with Hotch, back when we'd just found the bodies. Practically everyone on the team fits the Gormogon victimology. Reid. Emily. JJ. Wendell. Hotch—"

"And Zack would make six," Morgan finished. "Atlanta wants to take them all out."

"They're walking right into an ambush," Rossi said, the panic setting in across their face.

"Get Emily on the phone, quick, I'll get Garcia," Morgan said. "Let's just hope we're in time."

-x-

Emily scouted the park that Atlanta had chosen as their exchange location, noting all the positions where she knew there were agents waiting. Her eyes scanned the rooftops; the snipers were in position by now. Atlanta had to know that he was walking into a trap. JJ and Reid had the other end of the park covered.

"One last check," she said to Zack, speaking into her mic.

"I can hear you," Zack said in response. Emily looked across to Wendell.

"He's being picked up on the wire," Wendell confirmed.

Emily gave Zack a moment, watching him gather himself up, school his features into something calm. "Let's go." Zack gave a singular drop of his head in response, but fell into step beside Emily as she stepped cautiously into the park.

Zack was concentrating so hard on just walking in a straight line that he didn't notice Emily's phone ring, or her steps slowing at first. It was only when she had dropped a couple of feet behind him that he turned to see what was wrong.

"Are you sure?" Zack didn't like the look on Emily's face. Her eyebrows furrowed as she glanced around, long sweeping looks, trying to find something hidden. "JJ, Rossi thinks we're being set up, is there anything on the perimeter?" She was speaking into her mic now, ignoring her phone. Zack presumed Rossi was on the other end of it.

Zack couldn't hear what JJ said in response to it, but it's nothing good. "What's going on?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing, are you sure?" Emily said, and then she turned to Zack. "It's fine, don't worry," she added, but Zack didn't believe her for a second.

There was more chatter, and a response from Emily, and then she closed her phone. "Let's keep moving," she said, striding forward to catch up with Zack, all too aware that standing still was just going to make them targets.

Zack was slower now, cautiously half a step behind Emily. Something was up; tension crackled in the air. They weren't far from the proposed exchange location, and still there was nothing.

"Emily, our snipers aren't responding." Emily looked up as she heard JJ's voice come across the wire. "I've sent someone up there, but we can't get a response."

"We're not far off the drop location, has anyone spotted anything?"

"Not yet."

Emily looked back at Zack, who had raised an eyebrow, but she simply shook her head in response. She resumed walking, taking comfort in the clack of her boots against the ground. Zack tightened the gap between them. They reached a clearing, the one Atlanta had marked, but there was no sign of Atlanta or of Hotch.

"We're here, there's nothing," Emily said into her mic. Her eyes skirted the edge of the clearing, looking for someone hiding in the bushes.

"Emily, look out, the snipers are down—" and then there was a burst of static on the comms. Zack shook his head, hearing it too.

He looked around, eyes wide. "They've taken out the comms," Emily said. "Nothing to be worried about yet." Only there probably was, if JJ was right. She and Zack were without coverage now. Emily looked to the centre of the clearing; there was something glinting there. "Stay close," she said to Zack as she walked towards it.

She knelt to get a closer look, Zack standing over her shoulder. Her hand went out, touching the silver bones. "Six," she said to herself. She stood up quickly. "Rossi was right, we're being set up."

"Why would he leave six bones?" Zack asked.

Emily turned to him. "Rossi found a letter that Atlanta sent Collier. It said Atlanta needed six more bones to complete his skeleton. You, me, Hotch, JJ, Reid and Wendell are all perfect targets. They reckon Atlanta wants to take us all out at once."

Zack's eyes went wide. "What do we do now?"

Emily was in the middle of forming an answer when shots rang out, loud and close, and she tugged Zack down to ground with her.

-x-

At the edge of the park, JJ and Reid both stood in their kevlar vests, weapons in hand. There were other agents milling around the perimeter, looking for any disturbances, anyone untoward. JJ was speaking rapidly into a radio, trying to find out if anyone had contact with the snipers. It was starting to look like they'd walked right into the trap Atlanta had set up for them.

Reid was getting increasingly antsy, fingers drumming on the side of the SUV. He could hear Zack over the wire, his breathing steady, which was about the only thing keeping him calm.

"Agent Jareau, I'm on the rooftop in one of the sniper positions, he's been taken out." JJ and Reid look at each other, Reid having heard the message too.

JJ switched her earpiece, and then spoke, "Emily, look out, the snipers are down—" before the crackle of static came. She watched as everyone twitched, tried the radio to see if it was working, and got nothing in response. "Is Zack's wire down?" she asked.

"Yes," Reid answered, letting his concern flood his face.

JJ grimaced. "I want everyone on high alert," she yelled out, hoping as many of them would hear her as possible. They had no interest in stealth. "Gormogon is likely nearby, he's taken out our snipers and our comms, be careful." She heard movement in response, SWAT agents moving to check the perimeter still held, and then turned to Reid. "He'll be okay, Emily'll protect him."

"I know," Reid said, shoulders tensed as he looked round. "But if she and Rossi are right, she's just as much as a target. As are we. And Wendell."

There wasn't much JJ could say too that. The comms were down, and yet still there was no sign of Hotch or Atlanta. It was clear that something was going to happen, they just didn't know what.

A shot rang out, and JJ and Reid both turned instinctively towards the sound. A couple more shots rang out in response, and that was all JJ and Reid needed to start running towards the source of the gunfire.

More shots; one wizzed past JJ's head, narrowly missing her. Reid looked up, brain whirling with triangulation calculations. "He's shooting from the roof," Reid said, but JJ had already realised that.

An agent was attempting to return fire, unsuccessfully. JJ and Reid fell in alongside her. "Have you seen anything?" JJ asked.

"No," she said in reply, as a shot hit the building they were sheltering behind. "Has the exchange been made?"

She lent round, making a shot in return. It was impossible to know if it hit its mark. "We don't believe so," Reid said, watching carefully for signs of movement on the rooftop.

JJ's radio chose that moment to crackle to life, one of the SWAT agents voices barely discernible through the static. "This is Agent Jareau, does anyone have a location on Gormogon or Agent Hotchner?"

"Negative—" the radio dropped out again. JJ looked to Reid.

"What on earth is he doing?" JJ asked. "Why hasn't anyone seen Hotch?"

A silence hung, Reid not wanting to respond with the obvious, that Hotch might be dead already. "We need to get Emily and Zack and Wendell, and get out of here," he said.

"I'll get Wendell, you get Emily and Zack," JJ said. Reid nodded, looking out as he worked out the best path to take to the exchange location. JJ turned to the agent at her side. "You'll cover us."

She didn't say anything in response, merely positioning her gun up to watch. JJ and Reid glance at each other, then look out, and make a run for it.

-x-

Several gunshots rang out before Emily moved. She kept low to the ground, indicating for Zack to do the same. A minute later, the sounds were slightly further off, and were buffeted by what Emily thought was returning fire. She knelt beside Zack, one hand on her sidearm. "Zack, are you alright?"

Zack tugged himself up so he was facing Emily, flexing fingers and toes. "I'm fine." He looked over Emily, who also wasn't wounded.

"Good," Emily said. She got up cautiously, and then offered a hand to Zack to pull him up. "We've got to get out of here, Gormogon knows precisely where we are, if Hotch is still alive then he wants to take us all down at once so the best thing we can do is not be here." She looked around, trying to work out the best route out.

"Wendell's nine hundred feet in that direction," Zack pointed as he spoke, "and JJ and Reid's position is eleven hundred and fifty feet that way."

Emily was surprised, but now was not the time to comment on his over developed sense of spacial reasoning. "JJ and Reid will have moved as soon as they heard the shots, they won't be there anymore," she said. "And going back to Wendell is exactly what he'll expect we do."

"Agent Windsor and a large proportion of the SWAT team are positioned that way," Zack added, indicating.

Emily considered the options. "We'll head that way." She tried to remember back to the map, of where everyone was supposed to be positioned, but she couldn't remember much of it, and she doubted everyone had stuck to their positions anyway, especially now that the sniper positions were down.

They move quickly; Emily preferring to keep them within the cover of the park whilst she could, rather than the open spaces. Zack kept close. He bumped up behind her when she stopped suddenly, catching sight of a flashlight moving across from them. Emily waited a moment, trying to identify whoever it was, which was difficult in the dark.

She caught the flashlight grazing the white initials of FBI on the vest though, and decided to take a chance. "This is Agent Prentiss, identify yourself!"

"Emily?" came Reid's voice in response, following by quick moving feet.

"Reid?" Emily said in response, as Reid came into view.

Zack stopped cowering behind Emily, stepping back. "Are you and Zack alright?" Reid asked.

"We're fine," Emily confirmed, switching her flashlight back on. "What's happening out there?"

They were moving again as Reid explained. "They've taken the snipers out. Someone's shooting from our sniper positions. No one's seen any sign of Gormogon or Hotch. JJ's gone to get Wendell. We think Gormogon wants us."

"We know," Emily replied. "We found six bones made of silver in the drop location."

Reid tensed at the new information, but kept moving. Zack picked up his pace, just enough so he could fall in step alongside Reid, and grasped his hand. Reid didn't react, he just kept walking, but he entwined his fingers with Zack's. Zack squeezed, just subtly.

If Emily noticed, she didn't comment.

"Are all the comms down?" Emily asked.

"JJ's radio crackled back to life for all of thirty seconds, SWAT were on the other end. Other than that, we haven't heard anything. Zack, your wire's down too," Reid said, turning to Zack.

"Okay," Zack nodded. He hadn't really thought about it, thoughts about the preparations for his handover being completely abandoned given the sudden turn of events.

They were nearing the edge of the park. Emily edged ahead of Reid and Zack, scouting. Satisfied that they were clear, she turned back to Reid and Zack, indicating for them to join her. They dashed across the road, onto the side of the street with more cover.

"JJ shouldn't be far," Reid said.

"I'll get her," Emily said. "You and Zack find Windsor and SWAT and get yourselves out of here." Reid was torn for a moment about leaving Emily on her own. "I'll be fine, now go!"

"Stay safe," Reid said in reply, before grasping Zack's hand tightly and running off.

-x-

The shooting had mostly stopped, but the quiet that took its place wasn't any better. JJ knew that if Gormogon had actually been taken down, if there'd been an all clear, there would be far more hustle and bustle as the area was cleared, forensics and paramedics moving in. Instead, there was little activity and JJ was starting to worry all of her agents had been taken out.

Her fears were partially confirmed when she reached the SUV which she knew she'd sent Emily and Wendell in, with the driver down in front of it. He was bleeding, and JJ feared the worst. She lent over to check his pulse, and he responded with something half way between a cough and a groan. "A man. Five foot ten. Dark clothes. Grabbed Wendell and headed for the park."

"Got it," JJ confirmed. The agent was slipping in and out of consciousness, and he needed medical attention, but JJ couldn't think about that now.

If Gormogon had headed for the park, he was looking for Zack. She just hoped that Emily had had the good sense to get him out of there, that Spence has found them and gotten them out of there.

"JJ!"

JJ turned around, recognising Emily's voice. "I'm here."

Emily didn't take long to make it over to her friend, taking in the agent on the ground. "Wendell?" she asked.

"Gormogon got him. Took him into the park," JJ replied. "Zack?"

"Reid's got him, they're both fine, they're heading towards Windsor's position, I told them to get out of here."

"Seeing as how he wants all of us, probably for the best," JJ responded. "Emily, what does Gormogon want?"

Emily sighed. "Other than all of us as ritual sacrifices, I don't really think there is a plan. I'm worried about Hotch, but I think if he was dead we'd know about it."

"I agree." JJ looked back towards the park, trying to see any signs of movement. She contemplated their situation. "Emily, do you honestly think one person's pulling all this off?"

"I was thinking the same thing. Taking snipers out, sneaking round countless agents, and wanting to take down five of us whilst also keeping Hotch under control? It's not a task you'd do single handedly if you could help it."

"But who's helping him?" JJ asked. "An apprentice?"

"Nothing points to Atlanta having an apprentice," reminded Emily. "Collier's down. There's Charlotte, and the apprentice there, and whoever's working in Phoenix."

"If Atlanta gets us, we complete the cycle, so they'd be looking for an apprentice to take over," JJ said as she thought it over. "Maybe Charlotte's training the apprentice for Atlanta?"

"You saw Daisy's report though, the killer in Charlotte was inexperienced. I can't see them pulling this off."

Both women thought for a moment. "Emily, the apprentices are usually vulnerable teenage boys, right?"

"Yes." Emily's tone had a questioning note to it, but then she caught up to JJ. "Everyone's on high alert for a middle aged man who's a loner."

"When we should be looking for a team, with a teenage boy in tow," JJ finished.

-x-

It didn't take long for Reid and Zack to find the contingent of SWAT agents. As soon as they came into view they were swarmed, asked if they had any clue what was going on. Reid simply shook his head, and Zack knew that it was best just to say quiet, until they make it back to Agent Windsor, who was supervising a couple of technical agents desperately trying to get the comms back up.

"Dr. Reid, Mr. Addy," Windsor greeted, looking up momentarily before turning back to the poor tech analyst. "Can't we change the channels?" he asked, which resulted in a flurry of typing.

Zack lent on the SUV for support as he watched the analyst work. "We need to get out of here," Reid said to Windsor. "Gormogon is after my team, I need us all out of here."

"I can get you two, but I'll need current locations on Prentiss and Jareau if you want any chance of getting them out." Windsor wasn't really paying attention, fiddling with a dial, but one of the SWAT leaders was hovering, pulling Reid aside to speak too.

The discussion between Reid and the SWAT leader was whispered, and Zack didn't manage to catch any of it, so he busied himself watching Windsor's attempts to get the comm system back up and running. A couple more dial twists and a rewarding hiss echoed over the comm system.

"This is Agent Eastland, can anybody hear me?" the tech analyst said clearly, looking at the equipment as he tried to work out if the message had carried.

Clearly, it had, because within seconds all sorts of garbled responses have come in. Eastland looked up to Windsor, who nodded, taking over, trying to put some order back in.

Reid was back at Zack's side. "I've got him JJ, we're both fine," Zack overheard him saying.

There was a break as JJ spoke again, but Zack didn't like what he heard in response. "Wendell's gone? Of course JJ, I'll tell them, but we need a recovery plan."

Reid turned to Windsor then. "You need to get the word out. We're not looking for one unsub, we think we're looking for three, possibly four, and one of them is likely a teenage boy." Windsor looked surprised at the new information, but he nevertheless got to work in passing the information round.

Chapter Text

In which everything has gone to hell, but maybe, if the team play everything right, they'll make it out alive (and the end.)

Wendell wasn't sure of what on earth was going on, just that he'd been hit on the head slightly too hard and his vision was fogging. He was fairly certain he'd gotten knocked out at some point because the last thing he remembered was standing by the side of the SUV waiting for a signal that the exchange had been made or Gormogon had been captured and now he was face down in the middle of a clearing and there was someone else lying next to him.

His wrists were bound, further evidence that he'd been captured. So far it wasn't looking good. He examined the body to his right a little more thoroughly; it only took a couple of moments to realise who it was. "Hotch," Wendell whispered, but with force. "Hotch," he repeated when he didn't get a response.

It was dark, but not dark enough that Wendell couldn't see the reddish stains across Hotch's shirt. He looked around. He thought he recognised the clearing from the reconnaissance photos which Emily and JJ had been looking at, but he's not completely sure. They weren't alone either - there was a man, well a boy really, standing at the edge of the clearing. Wendell supposed he was probably keeping watch, but he didn't seem to be doing a good job at it.

Satisfied that moving wasn't going to get him killed straight away - it might in the end, Wendell could see the knife the boy was wielding - he moved closer to Hotch, trying to get a closer look at his injuries, whether he even still had a pulse. Taking it with his hands tied is difficult, but he managed it, and that was one thing to be thankful for; the BAU's fearless Unit Chief was still breathing.

Wendell wondered where the others were. The fact that none of them was here was probably good. He tried to remember exactly what had happened before he'd been taken down. Chatter over the wire, something about the team being set up. The comms had gone down not too long after that, though. Then gunfire. That seemed to have calmed down now, though Wendell didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

He reached for his own wire, wondering if they'd left it on him. Surprisingly, they had. "This is Wendell Bray, is anyone there?" he whispered, not knowing if it was even loud enough to be picked up or if the comms were even working. "I have Agent Hotchner, we are both hostages. Our location is Central Park, the exchange location."

The boy watching them was twitchy, which Wendell was glad for, because otherwise he'd probably have noticed Wendell attempting to signal for help. Wendell could see him fumbling with the blade, and the jump he gave when the radio he was clutching in his other hand crackled to life. Wendell strained his ears trying to hear what was going on.

"They haven't moved," he could hear the boy say. "I don't think either of them is awake."

There was a response, which Wendell couldn't hear, and then the boy came towards them. He checked Hotch first, then looked over at Wendell. He didn't enquire much, just glancing over them. "They're out."

Wendell stayed as still as he could, which got difficult when the boy lent over to remove his earpiece. He just hoped that someone might have got the message, and that they'd get saved.

-x-

As soon as the comms went back up, things started moving much more quickly. The news that they were no longer looking for a single unsub spread throughout the SWAT units, and things started to make sense. A SWAT agent radioed in a strange man on the rooftops, and JJ went to back him up.

The entire team breathed a sigh of relief when Wendell radioed in, with the news that Hotch was alive. The sickening crack that was his radio being destroyed moments later was disheartening, but a definite location meant Emily could go ahead with her rescue mission.

She took a couple of agents; FBI, women, light on their feet. Wendell hadn't managed to say who was with them - Emily guessed from the fact that the ear piece had been destroyed shortly after that there was someone with him, but whoever it was had let Wendell make a transmission in the first place. Emily's best guest was that the kid had been put in charge of watching the knocked out hostages.

The way to the clearing was open, Emily remembering the way from her earlier journey. The other two agents follow swiftly. Getting a good look into the clearing was difficult, but Emily had no desire to go in blind. She sent her backup round the other side, relieved that communications were back up.

The darkness didn't help, and Emily couldn't risk her flashlight. She could just about make out some lumps on the ground she presumed were Hotch and Wendell, as well as a figure poised over them watching. There was no way to reach Hotch and Wendell without alerting the boy to their presence. And Emily wasn't blind to the glint which she could see off the boy's knife either.

"Agent Prentiss, I have a clean shot."

Emily shook her head before responding. "Don't take it. Not yet." She wasn't sure they even had the justification to shoot a teenage boy, even if he was a murderer.

"Standing by."

Emily watched the boy. He was nervous, shaky, unexperienced. They knew that much from the body he'd left in Charlotte. The knife seemed foreign in his hand. He wasn't actually watching Wendell or Hotch. Emily was certain she could talk him down, get him in custody, but she wasn't sure she could do that without him radioing for help first.

"JJ, do you have anything?" Emily asked.

"We have someone surrounded on the roof. We're about to move," was the response.

It was still only two of them accounted for, but it was better than nothing. "I'm going to move in. We can talk him down. No firing," Emily said. An affirmative response came from her backup.

Emily heard shots in the distance, evidence of JJ's takedown in progress, and uses the distraction as cover. "Hands up," she said, loudly and clearly, "Place the knife on the ground and step away."

The boy was openly surprised. He dropped the knife fumbling for his radio; Emily winced, but thankfully it just landed without any harm. Emily raised her gun. The boy glanced behind him, only to see two agents advancing towards him, guns also trained on him.

"Hands up," Emily reminded him. The boy held his palms open, but didn't raise his arms. He looked around, clearly expecting a rescue. "No one's coming. We have one of your associates surrounded." Emily took a step forward as the other agents came round to circle the boy. She lowered her gun and reached for her cuffs. "How many of you are there?"

The boy remained silent as Emily pulled his wrists behind him to fasten the cuffs. One of the agents, the trigger happy one, came forward to take the boy, leaving Emily free to check on Hotch.

"He's breathing," Wendell said, as Emily knelt down to check. "Thank you," he added, as Emily reached for her flashlight to check Hotch more carefully.

"We're not out of the woods yet," Emily said. She took in the stains on Hotch's shirt, running her hands down to check for an open wound. Not finding one, she reached for the knife to cut Wendell's bonds. "This is Agent Prentiss, we have the boy in custody and have found Wendell Bray and Agent Hotchner. Medical assistance is required."

-x-

When the sounds of gunfire started up again, Reid simply pulled Zack close. They were out the way now, retreated from the scene, but the sounds still echoed, and Zack still flinched.

Reid knew it was a good thing, that the shots were JJ's take down, that they would result in an unsub in custody, and one less threat to their persons. One step closer to them being able to move on from this whole miserable business.

He heard JJ's confirmation that they had him, and then Emily confirming that she had Wendell and Hotch, as well as the apprentice in custody. Zack relaxed as Reid told him the news. Reid allowed himself a moment of relief before focusing again. They'd brought two of them in, but the revised, middle of the field profile indicated that there would be at least three of them, if not four. Atlanta didn't seem the type to be spending an event of this magnitude skulking up on roofs, which concerned Reid.

Commands were ordered across the comm system, for SWAT to start sweeping the park and the surrounding area for any trace of Atlanta. Reid didn't think they'd have much luck finding him, considering he'd so far managed to elude everyone, but he stayed quiet.

Reid swept his flashlight over Zack again, checking to see if he'd sustained any injuries. Zack brushed Reid's hair out of his eyes in response, which was how Reid missed a man come up behind them.

When Reid did turn round, to check their surroundings again, he didn't take much note of the man, wearing a SWAT uniform. But then Zack moved his flashlight in such a way that the light glinted off something, and Reid snapped his focus back, and although the man was a way away, he could swear that the Gormogon knife was in his hand.

"Freeze," Reid yelled, pulling his firearm out of it's holster with one hand while pushing Zack behind him with the other.

The man just turned and laughed, blade gripped in hand, and Zack longed to pull Reid down to the ground, fearing what would happen. Reid stood his ground. If Atlanta simply wanted to kill them, they'd all be dead by now. He'd had Hotch for eighteen hours.

Atlanta stepped towards the pair. "Why don't you just shoot me?" he mocked.

Reid gripped his gun, safety off, finger on the trigger but didn't make a move. "I'm giving you a chance to give yourself up."

A smile erupted on Atlanta's face. "Oh my, nobility is such an admirable quality. Unlike the traitor who stands behind you. Come out Zachary, let me see you, the one who betrayed our cause."

Zack tightened his hands, balling them up into fists. He remained behind Reid, trusting the other man.

"You are under arrest, the place is surrounded, give yourself up and everyone will make it out unscathed," Reid said.

Atlanta twirled the blade in his hand, before catching the hilt again. "And who on earth said I wanted that?" he asked, before throwing the blade.

Reid fired. His aim was true, and Atlanta went down. He heard the blade, the slice of flesh, Zack's quiet gasp, and turned instantly to his partner.

"I'm okay," Zack said instantly. He wasn't, there was blood spilling from his shoulder, but Reid could tell immediately that it was unlikely to be a fatal injury. He placed pressure on it, and then radioed in.

-x-

Hotch came too a couple of hours later in a hospital bed. He blinked his eyes, taking in Emily and JJ's faces above him. He made a muffled sound, vaguely to the effect of 'what happened?'.

"We're all fine," Emily said. "Rossi and Morgan took down the Gormogon in Detroit, Charlotte and his apprentice are in custody, Atlanta's dead and they think they have a location in Phoenix."

"Zack?" Hotch managed to ask. He was having trouble piecing bits together, but he knew Zack had been in danger, knew he'd been Atlanta's main target.

"He's in the other bed," JJ explained. Hotch turned, just enough to see a body in the opposite bed, and a lanky figure who must be Reid in the chair beside it. "He took a knife to the shoulder, but he'll be alright."

Wendell was stretched out in a cot the hospital had managed to find when it had become clear that the BAU all wanted to be in one room. He'd taken a bad knock to the head, but there were no signs of concussion, the doctors had simply counselled rest.

Emily caught Hotch looking. "He just needs some rest. Same as we all do."

JJ was fiddling with the pillows, trying to fluff them up. Hotch lent back, trying to take in everything that had happened, everything he could remember before he was abducted. He was almost settled when he bolted as far upright as his worn-out frame could manage.

"Grant?" he asked.

JJ and Emily share a look, before remembering. "Rossi says Anderson'll be fine. He's got some nasty burns and a broken leg and a couple of months of physical therapy to look forward to, but no lasting damage done," JJ said.

Hotch settled down again, realising that despite the fact he'd spent most of the last twenty hours unconscious, he was still exhausted. Emily and JJ were showing signs of their exhaustion, bags under their eyes. Emily was twitching, on that edge of exhausted and tense that she hovered at some times after bad cases.

It didn't take long for Hotch to fall back to sleep. JJ looked around the room; Wendell had been asleep in his cot soundly for a good hour now, and Spencer and Zack had dropped off too - hands entwined, and JJ thought it was sweet - and Emily looked like her eyes were going to close any moment. "Get some rest, Em," JJ said, in what the team have termed her mom voice. She saw Emily start to protest, and continued. "I'll check in with Morgan and Rossi and then I'll catch some sleep too."

Emily weighed up her choices, but she knew that look on JJ, and the exhaustion was getting to her.

It took mere moments for her to relax back in her chair, close her eyes, and fall asleep.

-x-

The team found themselves heading home sooner than anyone thought they would. Hotch was cleared to leave the hospital by the following morning. Anderson would be stuck in Detroit for a little while longer until he was fit to be transferred, but had told them all to go on without him.

Garcia was waiting in the BAU for all of them when the flight landed, as she'd convinced the Jeffersonian crew - including Dr. Brennan - to be there to greet everyone as well. She hugged Hotch first, before gesturing to the chair with cushions and a bright blanket on that she'd earmarked for him. Hotch, too tired to argue, simply sat down in it and watched as everyone rejoiced in a case solved.

Garcia moved on to Morgan, of course. Booth pulled Brennan to the side and began fussing, probably something about Brennan's pregnancy; Hotch remembered being concerned when Haley entered that stage as well. Cam Saroyan pulled Zack in for a concerned hug, while Hodgins greeted Wendell and Angela took Spencer. Clark Edison remained at the side, with a case full of evidence, but Gina Sharp spotted him and came up to take the case of him, and Clark went with her, relieved that he had an excuse to get out of the communal love fest the rest of the team had going on.

There were better places to do this, and Hotch could see Strauss hovering in the background; she was going to want mound after mound of paperwork to sort this case, all the mistakes that had been made and the trials for those who they'd caught alive, the problem of the kid whose lawyers were already pressing for him to be prosecuted as a juvenile with diminished responsibility, and it would be a long time before this case would leave them.

Zack needed real help, more than what Reid had been able to give him over the last year, but at least now they knew and Hotch would make sure he got it. But he looked happier here than he had for the entire extent of the case, leaning into Reid's space, and Hotch smiled as Reid wrapped an arm around Zack, fingers resting in the small of Zack's back.

Something in their relationship had shifted over the course of the case. It wasn't surprising in the slightest, and Hotch was glad that they'd finally got there. They both deserved that little chunk of happiness, and they fit each other so well.

-x-

After Rossi extracted promises from everyone that they would meet the next day for dinner on him - an invitation extended all round, not just to the BAU - everyone headed home for some well deserved rest.

Reid and Zack took the metro, favouring their old patterns over accepting an offer of a ride home from one of the others. It gave them time to gather their thoughts, take in everything that had happened. They'd had some time the last night, but the adrenaline high and uncomfortable hospital beds had not made for a relaxing environment.

Back to Spencer's apartment, which had crime scene tape across the entrance. "Hotch said we were clear to go back, they didn't find anything," Spencer reminded Zack, who looked concerned at the sight.

"I still don't like it." Zack stepped over the threshold anyway, when Reid tore down the tape. Go-bags were dumped just through the doorway, they'd sort the laundry later; it definitely wasn't a priority right now.

Reid surveyed the apartment. CSU had done a decent job, not that there was much they could find. Everything was put back in roughly the same place it had come from, not that he'd really know until he conducted a thorough examination of their bookshelves.

"Tea?" Reid offered.

Zack nodded in response as he dropped on the couch, picking an end and relaxing against it. Reid busied himself in the kitchen, boiling a kettle on the stove, teabags out of the cupboard and into their favourite mugs - both gifts from Garcia - and then pouring boiling water, spoon clinking against the mugs as the tea brewed.

Steam was still rising from the mugs as Reid brought them to Zack, who took the offered handle before setting the mug down. "Thank you," he said.

"No problem." Reid sat down on the couch, settling so he had a good view of Zack, who had positioned himself so he could see the sunlight streaming in the window. "How's your shoulder?"

Zack had been favouring his left shoulder all day, which was to be expected. He glanced down at it, not that he could see the injury, and shrugged. "It hurts as much as I thought it would."

"Can I take a look?" Reid asked. Zack simply drew back the arm of his shirt in response, exposing the bandage.

Reid remembered all the instructions the nurses had given, most of it unnecessary as Reid was familiar with the procedure for treating such a wound. He slowly unwrapped the bandage, Zack grimacing very slightly when the final layer was uncovered. Reid traced his fingers over the stitches; the wound was already on its way to healing, but clearly still needed to be covered. "I'm going to get fresh bandages, stay here," Reid said.

"I wasn't planning on it," Zack responded.

It didn't take long to uncover a fresh set of bandages, and Reid then returned to the couch, kneeling by Zack, wrapping the strip of fabric carefully around Zack's arm. Reid took his time, making sure the job was done properly. He tied it off, and let his fingers linger, as he looked up at Zack.

Zack was transfixed on Reid, and when Reid turned his head upwards, they were close. Zack reached his hand out to brush along Reid's jawline. Reid smiled.

"Thank you," Zack said.

They were inching closer. Reid moved the hand he'd let linger on Zack's arm up to his shoulder, and then on to the nape of his neck. Zack reached out to clutch at the edge of Reid's jacket. Foreheads brushed together, noses bumped.

"It's not a problem," Reid whispered in reply, and Zack felt his breath warm against his lips.

The hand that Zack had on Spencer's jawline clasped more firmly, pulling Spencer forward the inch needed to seal their lips together. Spencer's hand threaded through Zack's hair, as he leaned into the other man.

Zack clutched at Reid, angling his head so as to deepen the kiss. Spencer tasted of coffee and sweet and freshness and relief and most importantly home. His hand that was clutching Spencer's jacket moved upwards, fingers brushing over Spencer's shoulder and then round to tangle in his hair.

They broke the kiss, eyes lifting to watch each other. Zack brought his hands to rest loosely around Spencer's neck, whilst Spencer readjusted his weight, freeing up a hand, which slid its way up the side of Zack's body, coming to rest at his waist. Zack brushed a thumb over Spencer's cheekbone.

Spencer lent back in, capturing Zack's bottom lip with his own. Zack slipped his hands under Spencer's jacket, moving across the planes of Spencer's chest, whilst Spencer pushed himself into Zack, straddling him now, kissing like his life depended on it, like the only way he could breathe was through Zack.

Spencer brushed lips to Zack's jawline and down his neck as Zack opened the first couple of buttons on Spencer's shirt, allowing his hands to slip inside. Spencer mouthed at the side of Zack's neck, before burying his face in Zack's shoulder as his hands circled Zack.

Zack turned his head to Spencer's, burying his face in Spencer's soft locks. "I'm so glad it was you," he said.

"Hmm?" Spencer mumbled, noise muffled.

"The evaluation. I'm glad it was you. You saw the truth in me even when no one else could. No one else would have got me out of that place. No one else would have helped me as much as you have," Zack said. "You gave me a home, Spencer, made me feel safe." He paused, distracted by Spencer lightly pressing kisses into his clavicle. "I love you."

Spencer almost missed it. But he paused, brought his face up to see Zack's, saw honest brown eyes which were watering slightly. He wanted to question it, point out the reasons that this wasn't going to work out in the long run, but there's no doubt in Zack's eyes about his words.

Spencer kissed Zack. "I love you too," he whispered, as he drew back. Zack's eyes went wide, not quite expecting that response, but he smiled.

Life hadn't been kind to him, but right at that moment, sitting on that ragged beat up couch in Spencer's too small apartment, in the arms of the man he loved, having caught the bad guy, Zack felt content. And that was all he'd ever wanted.