Work Text:
Corey’s 3rd Person POV
If there was one thing Corey hated most, it was waking up at 3 am for an emergency case. He despised it with his soul. Especially if it was on the one night that he was staying at Spencer’s apartment. They had planned on cleaning it up, but quickly got distracted by Spencer’s various classical records and ended up learning to dance together before they fell asleep. Now, they were dragging their feet onto the jet, Corey in one of his dress shirts and slacks as well as one of Spencer’s lesser-worn vests. He’d never take his boyfriend’s favorite items unless Spencer persisted.
He was moderately excited to fully meet the new kid, which, ironically, came to the FBI academy from the very place they had a case in--Beacon Hills, California. Corey hadn’t been to California before, but from what he’d heard, it was a literal beacon for the supernatural. They were investigating some unusual deaths in the area.
“Victimology. Starting with the most recent death, we have Allison Argent.” His dad’s voice cut through the engine-sound-filled air as Corey reviewed the different pages covered with victims who all had the same mark behind their ear.
“This symbol, what is it?” Morgan looked between Corey and Spencer for an answer, with Spencer opening his mouth to ramble on about it until he was cut off.
“Japanese kanji,” Stiles muttered, looking at the case before he glanced up at the team and cleared his throat, sitting up straight. “It means ‘self’. So, it could mean a range of things here with victimology.”
Corey looked at Spencer and noted his expression--a mix of upset and distaste thrown together--at the fact that he had been interrupted, and no one seemed to mind, watching Hotch give Stiles a nod of approval, whereas he would have told Spencer to stop talking.
It was hours before they landed in Beacon Hills. Corey walked to greet the Sheriff, Noah Stilinski, watching as the older man gave Stiles a worried look before speaking to Corey, leading him to an office where they could set up.
“Here, you guys can set up in here. Let me know what you need and I’ll get it for you.” Sheriff Stilinski’s voice echoed in the small room that the team was in, Aaron giving the Sheriff thanks for the team as they began to set up the evidence board.
Corey helped Jennifer as usual, yet he was sneaking in kisses to Spencer, getting him coffee, or checking to make sure the taller man was eating the takeout the team got, so he was properly energized and awake for the seemingly long case. They were able to get a hotel room together as well. Aaron and Emily were bunking together, Jennifer and Stiles, and Morgan got a room alone.
The days went by, and no one could tell what this was. Stiles reached out to some friends of his--though he clarified that there was one who was not a friend--yet still didn’t find anything.
The discussion over the evidence was cut when Stiles’s phone rang, the ringtone, “Brooklyn Baby”, playing, causing Morgan to chuckle before they listened to the conversation playing from the speaker of the young man’s phone.
“DeeDee, I can’t talk for long.”
“Stiles, I need your help with something.”
“Angel, baby, I’m on a case. I’ll stop by when I can, okay?”
Corey didn’t even hear the girl on the other end respond before Stiles hung up, with Corey cocking a brow at him. “She sounded like she was crying.”
“I know, but this is my first case. She’s probably just got some college application she can’t figure out, and it’s overwhelming her.” Stiles waved his hand dismissively, continuing to look over books upon books of research, trying to solve this mystery.
Sheriff Stilinski entered the room hours later, with Spencer and Corey asleep on the couch, lying against each other, and empty coffee cups on the table in front of them from futile attempts to stay awake. Aaron glanced up, choosing to be the one to address the Sheriff.
“They found another body.”
“Understood, Sheriff. I’ll wake these two up and take Stiles.”
Corey awoke with a start, having been terrible at sleeping in open spaces, and looked at his dad in slight confusion. The man hadn’t noticed his son was awake yet, which Corey used to his advantage as he listened to Sheriff Stilinski ask Aaron that Stiles not to go to this crime scene and keep researching to find the thing killing all these people.
Corey groaned, gently rubbing Spencer’s chest and patting it, kissing his shoulder to wake him up. Once he was up, Corey grabbed their jackets and Spencer’s satchel before they followed Aaron tiredly. Once they arrived at the crime scene, Corey was quick to notice how organized it was--a simple, clean, sharp cut to the chest and through the throat. The same mark as all the others behind the girl’s ear. She looked gorgeous, dressed in a goth aesthetic, with auburn hair with blonde streaks intact, and her face adorned with melancholy.
“Jaydee! Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?!”
Spencer and Corey both turned their heads at the sound of a distressed shout, with Corey leaving to take care of the reporters and the person screaming outside the police tape. “Hello, my name is Corey Hotchner. Can you tell me yours and calm down a bit?”
“Harvey. Harvey Stilinski. Now, what the hell is happening? What happened to her? Is she okay?!” Harvey’s voice was filled with fear, the shake in it was audible even to a deaf ear. This boy was concerned for his friend, and Corey understood that on another level.
He was terrified when Spencer had been taken by Tobias Hankel--to a point where he couldn’t drink anything because the cup just fell. His dad had been so concerned for him. He’d never seen Corey cry before. Even as a child. But Corey couldn’t stop for a good two hours after they found Spencer.
“What’s your relationship with Mrs. Steiner?” Corey had to maintain some form of professionalism, and Harvey seemed to calm down, seeing that. They understood each other on a mental level, even if they had only just met. Corey could tell Harvey was some form of neurodivergent, no matter how many fake piercings he had or how his hair matched that of Jaydee’s.
“She’s my best friend. She’s like my sister! Oh my god… I need to call my brother… She’s also his girlfriend and… My god…”
Corey nodded, offering to drive Harvey to the station himself. As they climbed into the SUV, Harvey called someone--Corey could only assume it was his brother. They arrived at the station, Harvey in full-on tears and no longer speaking, a hand over his mouth as he searched for his brother, Corey gently tugging Harvey into a hug before looking at one of the deputies. “Get Stiles and the sheriff.”
The two rounded the corner, finding Harvey sobbing into an FBI agent’s chest before he was passed on to the other Stilinskis, watching as their face contorted with confusion before Stiles took a file into his hands, passed on by a deputy.
Corey took a glance, reading the file name upside down.
"Steiner, Jaydee."
Corey watched as Stiles’s face paled, eyes beginning to water, and he suspected that Stiles was the said boyfriend that the young Harvey had mentioned earlier.
“My last conversation with her was me dismissing her…I could of...” Stiles whimpered, tears overtaking the man for a moment before he barely composed himself enough to speak. “I could have saved her.” It was a couple more moments before the tears fell onto the actual file, staining the manilla folder in his hands, and Stiles had to excuse himself in his state of grief.
The only sounds that could be heard were the faint echo of his sobs, the screaming, heart-breaking sobs for a lost lover that meant the world.