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.