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Derek loses all track of time, staring at the walls. He doesn’t even have an estimate for how long it’s been when Hotch and JJ stumble back into the room, leaning on each other. Derek rises and moves to them as much as he can, the chain around his ankle straining.
“We’re okay, they just knocked us around a little.” Hotch assures him as one of their captors shackles them again.
“Yeah, we don’t even know what they want with us yet--they didn’t say.” JJ pushes her back from her face, still breathing heavily.
“They took Reid to another room, maybe upstairs,” Hotch explains. They can’t tell him much more about their captors, or the layout of the house.
“Do you think they’re our unsubs?” Derek asks. So far, all they have to work with is that there are multiple unsubs, all looking for revenge against family. They don’t know if they’re related or not. This group fits that, at least. They go over what little bit of profile they have, trying to figure out if these are the unsubs they’re here for, until Hotch and JJ have convinced Derek that they don’t have concussions. After a while, they both doze off, in more pain than they’re willing to admit.
Derek jerks out of his daze when the door slams open. Spencer is shoved in, a nasty black eye forming on his face. He lowers himself to the ground next to Derek, chewing at his lip. Derek tugs him close carefully.
“Do you trust me?” Spencer murmurs to him, lower enough that not enough Hotch and JJ, just a few feet away, will hear him.
“Always, pretty boy, I always trust you.” Derek keeps his voice at the same level.
“Good. Remember, Derek Morgan: I love you.”
“Spence, what’s going on?” Derek knows he’s speaking louder than he needs to when JJ and Hotch look over.
“Trust me, Derek. I love you.” Spencer repeats, kissing Derek briefly. “JJ, Hotch--”
“We know, Reid. Do what you have to do.” Hotch says. The door opens again, and Spencer abruptly turns and backhands Hotch.
Oh, God, this better not be what Derek thinks it is.
“Come on, then.” The man in the door grabs Spencer by the shoulder and leads him away.
“Hotch, what’s going on?” Derek asks.
He can already tell Spencer didn’t hit him that hard; light bruising at most. But even for something like this, for Spencer to just hit Hotch like that--it’s strange. All Derek can do is hope this is a plan they’ve worked out.
Derek doesn’t like the thought of Spencer going rogue, sacrificing himself for them.
“He’s protecting us,” JJ answers, instead. “Or trying to. They like him, or something.”
“He’s trying to play that to his advantage,” Hotch confirms. “If he can get a call out to Rossi, pretend to be as angry at him as they are at their families, he can lead them right to us.”
It doesn’t stop Derek from worrying.
Spencer doesn’t bother hiding the flinch when they bring the belt down on his back.
“This is what happens to your friends if you don’t behave. I think you will, though.” Spencer shakes his head.
“I’ve told you, they’re not my friends.”
“You sure seem friendly enough.”
“Being friendly doesn’t mean we’re friends.” A lesson Spencer had learned the hard way, years ago. “We work together, travel together. We usually share rooms on cases. We spend more time together than apart. I can’t away with only being polite.” He’s careful to let disdain, or something like it, creep into his voice--he’s heard it from enough unsubs that it’s not too hard.
“Oh, I see. You’re forced to play nice?”
“Yes.” Spencer says. “Why do you think I was so eager to hit my boss?”
The man--James Curtis--laughs. “Well, we might make an example of you anyway.”
“Let him talk to his other team members first.” The second unsub--Spencer hasn’t gotten his name yet--sounds bored.
Curtis hands him a cell phone.
“Call.”
Spencer does, hardly even hesitating to decide who he wants to call.
“SSA Rossi speaking.” Rossi sounds exhausted.
“Agent Rossi.” Spencer says, frost in his tone. He’s never talked to Rossi this way.
“Reid? Kid, are you alright? Are Morgan, Hotch, or JJ with you?” Spencer glances at Curtis. He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to answer that.
Curtis nods.
“Yes, I’m with them.”
“Thank God, kiddo. Are any of you hurt? Do you know where you are?”
“We’re fine.” Spencer sounds a little angry now. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from. He’s not angry at Rossi.
“Kiddo, you sound off, are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“He’s sure.” Curtis answers for him. Dumb move on his part, but it will help them. “He just doesn’t have to play nice anymore.”
Rossi is quiet for a long moment.
“Play nice?”
“Yeah, play nice. Tell the agent, doc.” Curtis orders.
“I have to work with you day and night; I even have to share rooms with you.” Spencer starts. “Being just polite wouldn’t work. I’m expected to be friendly, to be more than just coworkers. I’m not allowed to be just coworkers--no, you try to insist we’re a family.” Spencer spits out. He’s talking quickly, maybe too quickly, but it’s the only way he’ll get the words out.
“Dinners, movies, games--as though I want to spend my limited free time with you. Don’t get me started on all the nicknames, trying to make us seem like more than we really are. Sorry, Agent Rossi, but I’m not your kid and I’ll never see you as a father.”
“Hear that, agent?” Curtis gloats. Rossi is silent on the other end.
Spencer just hopes he understands.
“Ki- Reid- I didn’t realize you felt that way.” Rossi’s voice is softer when he starts speaking again, a little sad.
“And you call yourself a profiler.” The second unsub drawls out. “Can’t you see that he’s just like us?”
“In what way?” Rossi asks. They don’t have a complete profile, anything they give him now helps.
“People have been tryin’ to force him to be a certain way his whole life. I looked ‘im up, ‘e doesn’t need yall ordering ‘im around.” The unsub’s accent gets thicker the angrier he gets.
“Yeah, doc’s like us.” Curtis puts in. “We tried threatening your team to scare him and he doesn’t care.”
“Reid, I can’t believe that.” Rossi tries. Spencer rolls his eyes for the unsubs and scoffs loudly enough for Rossi to hear through the phone.
“That’s because you don’t really know me.”
“Reid-” Rossi fades out a little, like he’s stepped back.
“This is SSA Emily Prentiss speaking. James Curtis, Darren Wells, Everett West--we can get you a deal if you cooperate.”
“We don’t care about deals.” Curtis snarls out.
“Curtis, please.” Wells--Spencer thinks she listed them in speaking order--says. “Ma’am, we’re willing to talk.”
Spencer knows Garcia is tracing the call. She’s good at this, but he doesn’t know what setup the unsubs have.
“I think Dr. Reid may have a few words for you, first.” Wells finishes.
“Spence?” Prentiss asks, softly. She wants to see what reaction she’ll get.
“Don’t call me ‘Spence’ like we’re friends.” He snaps.
He hates this. He hasn’t been this mean to Emily in years. “I know you don’t really caere about me.
“Reid-” Spencer cuts her off.
“No. Don’t say you do. You don’t trust me, you all treat me like a child instead of a grown man, let alone a federal agent.” Spencer exhales; anything he says now they’ll know isn’t true. He doesn’t think they’ll ask him later, either.
“You say we’re more like a family than a team but you ignore me unless it’s important to you.” He sees Curtis tense and knows he’s picked the right path. He keeps going, saying things he doesn’t mean. No one interrupts him for a few minutes as he rants.
Then the third unsub--Everett West--returns.
“You idiots!” Curtis and Wells immediately defer. “You’ve lead them right to us!”
Then he turns to Spencer.
“And you were stalling all along.” He punches Spencer in the face; he stumbles, then falls to the floor when he can’t get his balance back.
“You can come get us, agents.” West grins into the phone. “But me and the boys here are gonna have some fun.” He kicks Spencer in the ribs, forcing him into a coughing fit.
He knows Rossi and Prentiss hear it before the phone skids in all different directions across the floor, shattered.
They take turns kicking at Spencer for while--he suspects he’s blacked out briefly a few times.
West drags him to his feet.
“Go downstairs.” Curtis shoves him at West’s direction; he falls more than he walks.
“Take this and go shoot one of them.” West smirks at him. “Or I’ll do it, and I won’t be nearly as nice as you.” Spencer runs through the best places to shoot someone for the least damage.
He’s not going to be able to talk his way out of this one. West keeps half a step behind him as he enters the room.
They’re all still in chains. He can see that Derek’s wrists are bloody from pulling, and Hotch’s face is bruising up faintly where he slapped him.
“Well? Shoot one of them.” West jabs him in the back with his own gun.
“Reid.” Hotch is looking at him expectantly, but he can’t pick Hotch--Spencer knows exactly where to aim but his hands are shaky from pain and fear. He can’t guarantee anything, and he’s not risking Jack losing his father to Spencer’s poor shooting.
And he can’t shoot JJ, either.
Fuck.
He really , really, doesn’t want to shoot Derek.
“Everett! We gotta get out of here!” Curtis yells. West swears and starts to turn around, still aiming his gun at Spencer. Before he can really process what he’s doing, Spencer fires.
Derek knows that Spencer’s plan has failed when he’s brought down and told to shoot one of them.
Spencer won’t shoot any of them, even with his own life on the line.
His hands are already trembling badly enough that Derek can see it from here.
As soon as Hotch speaks, Derek can almost see Spencer’s thoughts.
It’s exactly what Derek would be thinking.
Neither of them would ever raise a gun to Hotch; they both know what it’s like to grow up without a father. Even if Haley were still alive, it’s a shot Derek knows he’ll never take. Especially not if his hands were shaking the way Spence’s are now. If he could be sure of his shot? If there was no other choice, maybe.
JJ has Henry, she’s one of Spencer’s closest friends. Derek recommended her to Hotch when they were looking for another team member--he’d trained her part-time academy class; they’d applied for jobs that didn’t require the full training.
And that leaves Derek.
Derek knows, if it really came down to it, that Spencer would shoot him if his hand was forced.
Because Spencer can control where he shoots. He can’t control where the unsub aims.
Derek can’t even blame him. Faced with Spencer, Hotch, and JJ, an unsub demanding he shoot one of them… if he couldn’t manage to shoot the unsub, he’d have to pick one of them.
God, they’re going to need so much therapy after this.
Then Spencer is turning and firing on the unsub.
The other two unsubs fire before they clear the stairs. Derek can’t tell if Spencer is hit then but he doesn’t go down. Rossi and Prentiss are right behind the unsubs, but they wise up and drop their weapons.
As Prentiss and Rossi cuff the unsubs and hand them off to LEOs, Spencer stumbles over to them. Derek can feel his hands shaking as Spencer picks the locks on his cuffs, knows JJ and Hotch notice too, as quickly as he gets them free.
Derek wants nothing more than to wrap him up and check him over. Who knows how long it was between the unsubs realizing Spencer wasn’t really on their side and bringing him down here?
But he knows Spencer, and while affection is fine in front of the team, here--with LEOs milling around, possibly reporters outside--is not the time nor place for it. Instead, he takes a minute to help Hotch up while Spencer pulls JJ to her feet before going to his boyfriend.
“Spencer?” He asks quietly. All he wants is a quick check-in, confirm that he’s alright. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Spencer shakes his head quickly, then signs ‘Not now’. Derek isn’t happy about that--that Spencer is hurt, but not willing to share how.
Now isn’t the time to push, though. It can wait until they’re out of here, away from the LEOs securing the house. Rossi walks over to join them.
“Kid-” Spencer shakes his head again, slightly, and Rossi stops in his tracks. “There are paramedics out front. You all should get checked out.”
This is going to be a long night.
Spencer squeezes Derek’s hand. Overall, the damage is better than he was expecting, but he’s still going to be here for a day or two.
It’s very unfortunate. He hates hospitals.
“You need anything, pretty boy?” Derek asks, squeezing back. Spencer thinks about it for a minute, then shakes his head. Mostly, he’s just tired.
Derek kisses him on the forehead and starts telling him about the reno house he’s working on, the one they both pretend Spencer doesn’t know he’s custom designing for them. Spencer hums and offers suggestions here and there, signing almost too quickly for Derek to keep up at times.
He still hates hospitals, but maybe this particular stay won’t be so bad.