Eyes locked on Spencer’s, Morgan sent an unspoken apology before he knelt down and set his gun on the ground.
“That’s it, that’s it. Now kick it towards me.” Michael said with a sneer. Spencer watched as Morgan kicked the gun forward, toward Spencer and Michael’s feet. Then he straightened up, hands held loosely out on either side of his head, a gesture to show he was unarmed and peaceful. “There, Michael. I’m unarmed. Now, let him go.” Morgan said calmly. The anger in him was tapered down and the profiler was rearing its head. Though Spencer could see in his eyes it was difficult, Morgan was trying to push the emotion down enough that he could do what he was trained to do. Talk down a dangerous Unsub.
Laughter echoed around the room. The arm over Spencer’s throat tightened enough that his hand flew up to try and pull at it. Air became just a little harder to draw in. “Let him go?” The words were said mockingly. “I did all this to get him. Why on earth would I let him go?”
“You won’t get anywhere with him, Michael. How do you think this is going to play out? You can’t think you’ll just be able to walk right out of here as if nothing happened. Put the gun down and let him go.” Morgan’s words were easy and level, not threatening in the least bit. That was good. Michael would only respond to a threat with violence. Seeing as his neck was the one being held, Spencer didn’t really want that violence to come out.
But Spencer could have told him that there was no way he could reason with him. People like Michael couldn’t be reasoned with, most especially when it came to the object of their obsession. Quit rambling in your head you idiot and think of a damn plan to get out of this mess! He screamed in his mind. His good hand gripped tightly to Michael’s arm, still trying to relieve some of the pressure there. If he didn’t get him to loosen up a bit, it wouldn’t matter if Spencer made a plan or not; he’d pass out before he could do anything.
Finally the arm around his throat gave just enough that Spencer could draw air. He sucked in a few greedy breaths, ignoring the conversation between Morgan and Michael for the most part. His ears were ringing just enough from the fresh flow of air that he couldn’t hear anyways. Most of his brain was concentrating on getting air, but the other part was logging away the progression of the conversation as his hearing came back to him. Derek’s still trying to talk him down. It won’t work. We just have to hope like hell that Will gets us some help. If we can stall until the others get here, they can save us. Or if I can get the gun from him. I have two more at my feet and this one at my temple. If I can get away from the one and get my hands on one somehow, this could be over. But how? How the hell am I going to distract him?
Only one way came to mind. He had to use what he knew about Michael. The thought made him slightly sick, but it was the only thing he could think of. He felt the tension growing tighter in Michael and he knew that he had to act soon or it was all going to be over. “Michael.” He interrupted. Deliberately he made his voice tremble, trying to put as much terror in there as possible. He responds to terror. It turns him on. Oh, God, I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Please, Michael, p-please. Don’t d-do t-this.” Spencer looked straight in Morgan’s eyes. If you really can read me that well, I hope to God you understand what I’m about to do, Derek. I’m sorry. So, so sorry. Please understand. I can’t let him shoot you. I can’t risk letting him loose in the house with the gun and two kids sleeping down the hall. I have to do whatever it takes to get the gun away from him.
Spencer arched his body, acting as if he was trying to get pressure off his neck but in reality he was deliberately pushing his backside against Michael, trying to make it seem as innocent as possible. “Please, Michael. Please d-d-don’t h-hurt me.”
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Sitting on the hospital bed, Emily Prentiss scowled down at the bandage on her arm. She couldn’t believe that she’d been shot. Well, not technically shot. This couldn’t be called being shot. This was a graze. A pathetic graze. The guy didn’t even have the talent to take a good shot! No, he had to take some piss poor, pathetic little shot that just ripped her arm open. Well, if she got her hands on him, she’d show him. If someone’s going to shoot me, they damn well better take me down with the shot. Otherwise, the assholes are just pissing me off she snarled in her mind.
“You’re going to scare people away with that face.” JJ’s teasing voice interrupted Emily’s thoughts. When Emily looked over, her friend was standing beside the bed, holding a clean shirt and jacket in her hand. “I brought you these. They said you’re good to go as soon as you get dressed and I thought you’d definitely be ready to bust out of this joint.”
“Oh God, yeah. I’m so ready to be out of here.” Some of Emily’s temper went down at the prospect of leaving. She took the shirt from JJ and slid it on, quickly doing up the buttons before she took the jacket and put that on as well. It was a relief to be dressed again, not left sitting in pants and a bra. The ache in her arm gave a particularly nasty throb, but she kept that to herself as she followed JJ out to the waiting room.
Almost instantly she was bombarded by Aaron, Dave and Garcia. Naturally it was Garcia who walked straight over and hugged her. “Oh my God, Em! Don’t you ever scare me like that again. You are not allowed to get shot like this on my watch!”
“I’ll try to keep it from happening again, PG.” Emily said dryly. Humor lit her eyes though. No matter what, Garcia just seemed to make them all smile. Looking at the crowd, Emily asked “Everyone else is ok? Morgan and Reid and Will too?”
Dave was the one who nodded and answered. “We’re fine. The guys were on the phone with Hotch when the shots fired, so they panicked, but I got the phone and let them know everyone was ok. When we hung up, Reid was spacing and Morgan was going to try to get him to lay down for a little bit and Will was going back with the kids.”
“This is getting ridiculous, Hotch.” Turning to her boss, Emily crossed her arms. “I feel like this guy’s just playing us all over the place. Something still doesn’t seem quite right about all of this. What was the point of this? Why on earth would he come here and shoot at me right outside the hospital? It doesn’t fit the general profile!”
A ringing cell phone interrupted the conversation. JJ moved off to the side, the smile on her face as she answered telling them all who was on the other line. But Emily saw as the smile was wiped off of JJ’s face. The bad feeling in Emily’s stomach grew. Her hand slipped to where her gun usually sat. Something had happened. Something bad.
JJ snapped her phone shut and moved right back to them, her face hard and terrified. “Michael’s at the house with a gun. He has Reid and Morgan. Apparently Spence figured it out and made Will stand guard over the kids, so he doesn’t think Michael knows he’s there.”
There was one single, frozen moment. Then the team was racing off, one goal in mind. They had to get to that house before it was too late.
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Nausea still rolled around inside of Spencer. He hated what he was doing. Hated what he knew it was causing. This was going to hurt and it was going to make him feel sick, but it was the only way he could think of to keep everyone alive. So far, the plan was working, too. Michael squeezed his throat a little and pressed the gun in just a bit harder.
Spencer let himself moan at the pain of the arm pushing on the old bruises on his throat. Those kinds of reactions were what Michael wanted. Right now he had to give him what he wanted. “P-Please!” He begged. His bad hand came up, gripping lightly at Michael’s arm despite the pain his wrist felt when he did. That wasn’t important. His other hand dropped down and grabbed Michael’s hip like he was going to try to break away. “P-Please, I’ll d-d-do anything!” To speed things along, he arched again, letting his ass rub against Michael’s growing erection again. It’s working. It’s working. Please, God, let the rest of the plan work!
In Morgan’s eyes he could see how hard of a time his lover was having. Silently he tried to convey his love, hoping that Morgan could see it.
“Just let him go.” Morgan said gently. “This doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to hurt him.”
Michael was breathing heavily in Spencer’s ear. “What if I want to hurt him? What if I like to hurt him?” He turned, biting the bottom of Spencer’s ear so hard that the young man couldn’t stop himself from bucking again, this time actually trying to pull away. It only served to arouse Michael more. “See? He likes it when I hurt him. And, oh, I have plans to hurt him. So many plans, as soon as we get out of here. Which we’re going to do, Agent Morgan, just as soon as I take care of you. Can’t have you following me.”
Shit! He wasn’t supposed to be ready to go yet! I need to distract him more. I’m going to have to take this further. Derek, forgive me for this! I can’t let him shoot you!
“N-No!” Spencer made the quiver in his voice stronger. Weak he told himself. Afraid. He wouldn’t react if you just gave in, but if he thinks he’s hurting you, that whatever he’s doing is hurting you, he’ll get more turned on. The more turned on he gets, the bigger chance his grip will loosen on that gun. All you need is just a moment. Enough time to get clear of the gun. The hand he had on Michael’s hip slid along the top of Michael’s jeans, shaking in a way he knew used to really turn Michael on. “I’ll d-do anything, Michael. J-Just p-p-please, don’t h-hurt him!”
Bile threatened to come up Spencer’s throat, momentarily cutting off his words. But his hand kept moving. Michael wasn’t stopping him. If anything, he was breathing heavier in Spencer’s ear. Once again he bit there and Spencer let himself cry out. His eyes moved to Morgan again, a plea, a demand, telling him to stay back. To stay silent and wait.
He managed to get the button on Michael’s jeans undone. The bile rose more when Spencer slipped his hand into Michael’s shorts, grabbing hold of the hard member there. With that first touch, Michael was sucked into the moment, so distracted that Spencer knew he didn’t even notice Morgan there anymore. But the gun didn’t move away from Spencer’s head.
It was difficult at the angle he was at, but Spencer managed to make his hand move, stroking Michael a little while letting the fear he felt shake his body, trying to continue to display the terror that would keep Michael into this. He felt Michael’s breathing pick up, felt the slight tremble in the gun by his head, and he knew it was time. Holding Morgan’s gaze, Spencer took a deep breath.
The hand he had around Michael’s cock gripped tightly, so tight the other man almost screamed. With his bad hand, Spencer reached for the gun at the same time, making his wrist scream as he grabbed the gun and twisted it, unable to take it away but managing to point it to the ceiling. At the same time he kicked a foot out, sending the gun on the floor flying back toward Morgan.
All of this happened in just a split second. Spencer gave another hard squeeze, making Michael scream once more, and it was just enough to relieve the pressure. Almost instantly Spencer let go with both hands and made his body limp, dropping down from Michael’s grasp, trusting his life in that moment to his partner.
Even before Spencer fully hit the ground, he heard the gun go off. Hitting the floor, Spencer rolled his body, moving quickly out of the way. He came up, gun in hand, having grabbed it as he moved. What he found waiting for him had everything in him wanting to go limp.
Michael lay on the ground, blood pooling from a single gunshot wound to the chest. It took Spencer only a minute for him to see that the other man was still alive. He felt frozen, standing there and staring. There was nothing he could do; he could easily see that. No ambulance would arrive in time to save him, no matter what they did to try and help. It frightened him a little that he really didn’t want to help.
Only seconds had passed since he’d gotten to his feet. It only took seconds for him to look down and see Michael. Or for Morgan to close the distance between them and wrap Spencer tightly in his arms, cradling their bodies close together. It was Morgan’s touch that brought him back to reality. Spencer took one great, shuddering breath before spinning and melting right into Morgan’s arms.
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Having heard the gunshot, Will knew he couldn't stay in the room any longer, waiting for the others to arrive and help. Somehow the kids were still asleep. So, making sure to securely shut the door behind him, Will crept down the hallway, his gun in his hands, prepared for just about anything. What he did find had him freezing in place. Michael, lying in his own blood on the entryway floor. That was the first thing Will noticed.
But what drew his attention the most was the couple standing a little ways away from him. Morgan had his arms tight around Spencer, holding him as close as humanly possible. Spencer’s arms were pinned between them, his hands gripping at Morgan’s shoulders, tears streaming down his face. Will could barely understand what Spencer was blubbering out, but it sounded like “I’m sorry…had to do it…sorry!...didn’t know what else…only way…so wrong…” And all the while Morgan was shushing him, his cheek pressed Spencer’s temple. It took a moment for Will to hear what Morgan was saying. After a moment it became clear. Once he realized, Will couldn't stop himself from smiling, even in the middle of the chaos. Even as he looked at his two friends, one of which was splattered with blood through his hair, Will couldn’t help but smile at them.
Over and over, Morgan whispered the simplest, most important words. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”