Chapter Text
It was dusk. The stars gazed over the expansive Sonoran Desert as a gila monster inhaled deeply on a rock before scurrying under as a rumble echoed nearby.
“C’mon Cooper!,” a girl's voice shouted with a slight tremor. A robust golden retriever scurried to be in perfect unison with the girl’s footfalls. She stopped suddenly, removing her water bottle from the backpack she had since removed from her back. As she bent down to pet her loyal friend, he began barking erratically.
“Cooper, what’s up?” she asked, taking his face in her hands, “What’s up, boy? See another lizard? You know you can’t keep going after those gila monsters, buddy. They’re venomous, and I don’t have the money for another hospital bill,” she giggled at the last part, but the barking continued until Cooper decided to dash after the trigger.
“Cooper stop!” she shouted, following him off the trail. They wove in between saguaro cacti as Cooper’s barking subsided.
“Don’t do that Coop–” but she immediately shut up. Lying in front of her was a contorted body of what she guessed was a woman, but due to the lack of light, she couldn’t be sure.
"Why does shit alway happen to me?" she murmured as she took out her cell phone, confirmed she had service, and dialed 911.
“Prentiss, how’d your date go?!” Morgan yelled as he set his bag down at his desk. Emily turned around, stirring her coffee as she rolled her eyes.
“Say it a little louder, Morgan. I’m not sure everyone caught that.”
“C’mon, Prentiss,” he grinned when he finally made his way up to her, “I want every detail.”
“Drop it, Morgan,” Emily said, giving him a stern but playful look.
“Drop what?” Reid asked, causing both Derek and Emily to jump.
“Jesus, Spencer. Where’d you even come from?”
“My desk. I thought you saw me walk by,” Spencer said, scrunching his eyebrows together.
“You know what, Prentiss, keep your secrets. I’m just lookin’ forward to a fun weekend,” Derek said, placing his hands behind his head.
“Oh yeah, what’s a fun weekend look like for Derek Morgan?”
“Yeah, what do you do on the weekends?” Spencer piped up.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Pretty Boy?” Derek smirked, placing an arm around Spencer’s neck, but the smirk soon vanished when Hotch appeared on the second floor.
“Conference room in 15,” he announced before retreating down the hall.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Derek closed his eyes and removed his arm from around Reid, “Why can’t serial killers take the weekend off?”
“No rest for the wicked,” Emily joked.
Spencer glanced over at her and replied, “No rest for anyone, actually. You know, if you think about it, if the wicked don’t rest, how can anyone else? The term was first used in the old testament’s Book of Isaiah–”
“Has anyone seen Rossi or JJ?” Emily interjected desperately.
“They’re probably waiting for us. C’mon.” As Derek, Emily, and Spencer entered the conference room, JJ and Rossi were both seated, engaged in what appeared to be an argument on who the best baseball team was.
“Alright fellow crime fighters,” Garcia announced, pushing her red glasses further up her nose, “buckle up because this one is a doozy. Late last night, a jogger found the…” she took a gulp, “contorted body of 29 year old Rebecca Smith in the Sonoran desert, specifically the Yuma desert portion. This was similar to two previous bodies that turned up in the Sonoran desert all in the same position. 45 year old Declan Roan and 34 year old Mimi Lopez.”
“So this serial killer crosses age, gender, and race lines. Any relation?” JJ asked.
“So far, none. They all are from different areas of the country, work different jobs, and have not seemed to ever crossed paths. I’m still digging on that, so I’ll get back to you.”
“Garcia, what was the cause of death?” Spencer asked, never taking his eyes off of the case file.
“Hypoxia brought on by prolonged silver intake.”
“Excuse me?” JJ shot her head up, “All of them?”
“Yes,” Garcia nodded.
“I may not be as smart as Einstein over here,” Rossi motioned to Spencer, “but why choose this method of killing? Doesn’t it take a while to die from silver ingestion?”
“It depends on how much you take and how healthy you are,” Spencer started, “if dosed with the proper amount, some people could die within days. Hours if the dose is fatal enough.”
“Yeah, what he said,” Garcia said, clicking the remote while scrunching her nose.
“Why weren’t we called in after the first one?” Derek asked.
“Because they didn’t find the first two bodies until three days ago. They all seemed to turn up at the same time.”
“So this killer doesn’t have a cooling off period? Fantastic,” Emily slouched in her chair.
“I hate to keep you all here over the weekend. I know you all had plans,” Hotch said.
“I didn’t,” mumbled Spencer as JJ elbowed him.
“But there is a serial killer who is only escalating. Wheels up in 30.” With that, Hotch stood up and pulled out his phone, exiting the room.
“When this is over, drinks are on me,” Rossi said, rubbing a hand down his face.
“I’m holding you to that,” Emily pointed, narrowing her eyes, “and you’re not weaseling out of it this time, Reid.”
“I don’t weasel out of it. I’m just always busy,” Spencer retorted.
“Yeah, busy ignoring us,” Derek stood up and ruffled his hair, “meet you guys at the airstrip.”
Spencer grabbed his satchel and his to go bag containing multiple books, shirts, pants, socks, and other necessary amenities. As he was about to head out, his phone released a few muffled buzzes from his pocket.
“Hello?” he answered, “Yes, Dr. Sloan. How’s my–” JJ had glanced over to see Spencer drumming his fingers against the side of his leg while biting his bottom lip.
“I understand. Yes. No, I trust your opinion. Thank you.” Spencer clicked his phone off as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Spencer,” JJ gently placed a hand on his shoulder, “everything alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah that was just my neighbor who I had asked to water my plants,” Spencer forced a small smile, “she couldn’t find the spare key.”
“Right,” JJ squinted her eyes slightly at him, “You know you can tell me anything, Spence. Anything at all.”
“I know. Thank you,” Spencer leaned in to hug her before retrieving his bag and leaving the room.
“What took you two so long?” Derek called out when JJ and Spencer finally boarded the plane.
“Lost track of time,” JJ answered, taking the seat next to Emily. Rossi and Hotch had already claimed the couch, Spencer’s usual seat, so he settled for the seat next to Derek.
“What do you think we’re dealing with?” Emily leaned across the table separating them.
“Maybe a vigilante scientist? Who even has access to silver?” JJ asked.
“Actually, you can buy silver from any online vendor,” Spencer said, “and depending on what you want, it can cost you as low as $15.”
“And you know that because you buy silver often,” Emily teased.
“Of course! No” Spencer laughed, “but when I was doing my PhD in chemistry, the lab next to ours would always need to buy silver. It was cheaper to place one order than two separate, so they would place the silver order with our lab supply order.”
“I keep forgetting about the chemistry PhD,” Emily laughed.
“Greetings soldiers,” Garcia buzzed in.
“What do you have for us, babygirl?”
“So I couldn’t find any direct links between the victims, however, they all moved to Yuma within the last month. They don’t have a permanent address listed, just a P.O box.”
“That’s it?” asked Hotch, raising an eyebrow.
“You underestimate me, sir. I was digging through their credit card history, and they all spent hundreds of dollars at a place called ‘God’s Little Garden’. It’s like one of those healing type shops. Crystals and palm readings and such.”
“Good work, Garcia. Let us know if you find anything else.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” she saluted, ending the call.
“Alright, when we land I want Rossi and Prentiss to go to the M.Es. Morgan. Reid. Go check out that shop Garcia mentioned. JJ and I will go meet with the chief of police and get settled in."
An hour later, Derek and Spencer were wandering down the hot streets of Arizona. Derek’s grey shirt presented the evidence of being overheated, the collar soaked with sweat. Spencer, on the other hand, had simply rolled up his sleeves on his white button down.
“How aren’t you sweating? It’s like a billion degrees out here.”
“How do you always seem to forget I’m from Vegas?” Spencer smirked, “This is nothing,” but he soon brought the back of his hand to his head.
“Reid, you okay?” Derek held him by his shoulders, “Do you need to sit?”
“I’m fine. I think I drank too much coffee earlier. We're here,” he gestured to the shop with a light green awning both in an effort to distract Morgan and to let him know they had arrived. Derek gave one final glance at him before entering the shop. A little bell rang above them as Spencer’s senses were bombarded with incense being burned. The shop was dimly lit with the walls covered in tapestries containing different depictions of the sun, the moon, Buddha, and lotuses. There were wooden shelves, which appeared to be hand crafted that were adorned with prayer beads, tarot cards, candles, and jars filled with miscellaneous objects. On the far end of the shop were bins filled with crystals. The names were scrawled in beautiful calligraphy on a sign behind the bins.
“Looking for anything in particular, darlings?” a voice came from behind the counter. A woman in an olive green tank top and brown maxi skirt greeted them.
“FBI ma’am, do you recognize any of these people?”
“I get a lot of people coming through here. I’m not sure I’d be much help.”
“Could you at least look?” Spencer asked gently.
“Of course, of course. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s this about?”
“They are a person of interest in an ongoing case,” Morgan said as Reid opened his mouth to answer. Glancing quizzically at Morgan, he shook his head slightly.
“I don’t remember that guy, but that woman, I remember. She was very nice. Bought my whole supply of clear quartz. Said it was for her mother, I think.” Derek continued to question the woman while Spencer took a more in depth look around. On one of the shelves were essential oils and multiple vials decorated with silver stars. Below them were sticks of white sage and incense with incense holders right next to them. On the bottom shelf were books about palm readings, how to align one’s chakras, an introduction to sanskrit, various books about meditation, and a couple books on alternative medicine.
“Thank you for your time. Reid,” Derek called out as Spencer remained crouched over, shoving his hand into the side of his head. This alway helped with the pulsing.
“Hey, are you alright?” the woman stepped out from behind the counter attempting to place a hand on Reid, who flinched away.
“Sorry,” he said, standing up, “I have this thing with germs.”
“I understand,” the woman said, placing something in his hand, “but please take this. Amethyst is supposed to help with pain and headaches and promote sleep.” She shoved the small purple stone into his hand, “It looks like you need it.”
“Thanks,” Spencer mumbled as he and Morgan left the shop.
“Okay, we are not going anywhere until you tell me what’s up!”
“Nothing, Morgan,” Spencer sighed, attempting to walk away. Morgan snatched him by his bicep and spun him around until they made eye contact.
“Don’t give me that, Reid. Obviously something is up with you. Why won’t you let anyone help you?”
“How do you plan on helping me, Morgan? How are you going to help my headaches that even doctors can’t identify the cause of? How are you going to help my nightmares–” he chest was heaving as he buried his face into Morgan’s, avoiding the sweat stains. Morgan carefully wrapped his arms around Spencer as his breathing eventually evened out.
“I’m sorry,” he pulled away, wiping away little drops of sweat that had formed around his hairline.
“It’s okay, Reid. Maybe you should just take it easy for this case, huh? If you tell Hotch–”
“I’m not telling Hotch,” Spencer widened his eyes, “I don’t need him thinking I can’t do my job.”
“He’s not going to think that.”
“But he’s going to worry every time he sends me out to the field.”
“Reid, no offense, but based on your track record, I think he already worries every time you're out in the field.” Spencer smiled and to Morgan, that was a win. “Let’s swing by one of these delis before we head back. I’m starving!”
When Spencer and Derek strolled into the makeshift conference room hosted by the Yuma police, Emily was already briefing Hotch on what they found. Spencer dropped the amethyst onto the table as JJ raised her eyebrow at him before grinning.
“Based on the M.E, these people weren’t given a fatal dose of silver all at once. It built up within their system overtime. And that combined with borderline anorexia is what eventually killed them. You should have seen their skin. It was this ghastly blue grey color. Something straight out of the Twilight Zone almost.”
“It sounds like argyria,” Spencer said, moving his hands in front of him, “It’s a rare skin condition that’s caused by silver build up in your body. It usually starts in the gums, turning them a grey-brown, but eventually certain areas if not all of your skin turns blue-grey, metallic, or slate-grey. It can even affect internal organs…”
“The M.E did mention that all of the victims had blueish spleens,” Rossi added.
“So the guy isn’t dosing them all at once. He’s holding them for months,” Derek concluded.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Why hold your victims, starve them, and force them to ingest silver?” JJ shook her head.
“Your vigilante scientist theory could still work, JJ. Maybe he’s experimenting and documenting the results.”
“For what purpose though? Silver poisoning is extremely rare,” Reid spoke up after carefully thinking for a minute, “And the way they are positioned is odd.” He stood up and pointed to the images containing the crime scenes.
“Looks like a human pretzel," Morgan groaned.
“Or a star,” Emily shot up and connected the five points with a marker. Starting at the head, she drew a line down to the right knee then drew a line to the left elbow to the right down to the right knee and back up to the head.
“Does a star have any significance?” Hotch asked the room, but the question was more directed at Reid.
“In medieval times, stars were associated with divinity often worn by European religious figures. The Maories believed each star was the soul of one of their war heroes. The brighter the star, the more enemies they had slain. The Chaldeans believed that the stars were lamps managed by angels in the sky. It’s really interesting! In ancient Greece, they believed a fallen star was a sign that the gods were watching from above, which is why we developed making wishes when we see shooting stars. Nowadays, people tend to associate stars with guidance, hope, power, and authority.”
“Okay, so could this be a religious killing of sorts?” Rossi asked, “Present a star to god to appease him?”
“But are these victims of opportunity or is there something about them that speaks to the unsub?” Emily thought out loud. Each person had a different eye color, different facial structure, different hair color, and different height and weight.
“We’re missing something,” JJ leaning back in her swiveling chair, “I just can’t put my finger on it. And how does silver fit in?"
“Maybe it's to offer riches to a god,” Derek suggested.
“But wouldn’t you use gold instead?” Rossi proposed
“Hey, not all of us can afford gold, Rossi,” Derek laughed. Spencer rubbed his chin, lost in thought.
"But there was gold offered. In the ribbons used to bind the victims' hands behind their back."
“Hey genius, I can see those gears turning. What are you thinking about?”
“I’m not quite sure myself. My brain keeps taking me back to the shop we visited today, and I don’t understand why.”
“Okay, I want everyone to pack it up for the night. We’ll look with fresh eyes tomorrow.” No one objected as they had been mulling over the case for the past few hours with little break. Derek and Spencer hopped into one of the black SUVs and started off towards their hotel. Reid leaned his head against the window while he fidgeted with the amethyst from early.
“I didn’t know you believed in that stuff,” Derek motioned towards the crystal.
“I don’t really,” Spencer said, looking down, “I think it’s more of a placebo effect, you know? People want these stones to work so badly that they start believing they do. And since my headaches are all in my head, why can’t the cure also be?” He pocketed the rock and returned his gaze out the window.
“I’m really sorry, Reid.”
“What for?” he asked without turning his head.
“That you have to suffer.”
“Don’t we all,” Reid provided him with a smile as they parked the SUV to the closest spot near the entrance. Hauling their luggage to the front desk, Derek retrieved the key for their room. Due to budget cuts within the bureau, the team had to double up. Hotch and Rossi immediately partnered up with Emily and JJ quickly following. Derek didn’t look particularly happy to be sharing a room with Reid, but he said nothing. As they were unpacking their clothes, Spencer broke the silence.
“Why did you look so unhappy to be sharing a room with me?” he asked.
The directness of the question caught Morgan off guard. “Who said I didn’t want to share a room with you, Pretty Boy?”
“The grimace when everyone else partnered up and you were left with me.”
“Because you stay up late reading, and I can’t go to sleep with the light on,” Morgan lied.
“Morgan, you fell asleep standing up at Hotch’s marathon. Is it because of my nightmares? I don’t wake up screaming anymore!”
“No, it’s not because of that,” Morgan turned away.
“Okay,” Spencer slouched in defeat, not entirely believing Morgan’s denial. He quickly changed into his pajamas, a loose fitting blue t-shirt with black boxer shorts. Spencer slipped on his red and black plaid pants and a loose fitting white t-shirt that had a picture of Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis book cover on it. As Morgan watched a rerun of Days of Our Lives on the TV, Spencer pulled out War and Peace in the original Russian text. A calming silence settled before Morgan clicked off the TV and shut the light on his side off.
“Night,” he said, shifting in his bed.
“Night,” Spencer returned, flipping excitedly through the pages. It was about 1am when Spencer decided he should try to get some sleep. Shakily, he turned off his own light, pulling the covers over his head but allowing a hole for his head. He wasn’t deathly afraid of the dark, per say, but he much preferred the present of light to the absence. After tossing around a few theories on the case, his eyelids eventually fell, plunging him into the dreamy void.
“Spencer!” He heard a woman’s voice call out.
“Emily?” he muttered. “Emily!” He finally recognized where he was. The tunnels below the chapel of the cult he and Emily had encountered in La Plata county. He shook his head a little to clear his blurred vision. Finally, he located Emily who he had mistakenly assumed was injured.
“Emily?” he said again, but then her form completely disappeared as he was roughly yanked up by his hair.
“Do you want to see her again?” Benjamin Cyrus’s voice came from behind him. Desperately, he nodded his head. “I thought as much.” Spencer heard the clinking of something behind him, and soon, he was shoved back down to the ground. Cautiously stealing a look up, he saw Cyrus filling up a syringe.
“No,” he attempted to back away. “No!” he screamed louder this time, but it was too late. Cyrus had plunged the needle into the crook of his arm.
“Reid, hey, Reid!” Morgan was shaking Spencer as he continued to claw at his arms and mumble, “no, no, no” over and over. Coming too, Spencer flinched slightly, but then deciding to take a deep breath, he sat up. Morgan slowly released his arms, which he drew around his waist.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He shook his head. “Do you want the lights on?” Again, he shook his head and looked at the clock. It flashed 4:15.
“I think I’m just going to get ready and head in early.”
“No, Spencer, it’s way too early. C’mon man, do you need sleep medication? I have some.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Will you just try to get back to sleep?”
“So I can wake you up again?”
“I don’t mind.”
“Yes, you do, Morgan. And I don’t blame you. A lack of sleep can cause irritability, trouble focusing–”
“I know, Reid, you’ve told me this before. You’re human too, ya know. Those things also apply to you.” Spencer realized he had walked right into that one like a fool. Maybe the lack of sleep was catching up to him.
“Fine,” he responded, defeatedly laying back down.
“Do you want me to lay down with you?”
“I’m fine, Morgan,” Spencer sighed as Derek got up to return to his bed, “Wait! Actually, could you just lay here until I fall asleep.”
“Anything for you, Pretty Boy,” Derek grinned, returning to Spencer’s side. The pair returned to their dream land until their alarm went off, two and a half hours later, with Spencer tucked under Morgan's arm.