Our True Destiny | Complete

Chapter 3: Balance, Order, Rhythm, Harmony

"Sir," Garcia entered Hotch's office, more docile than he'd ever seen her. "He's gone dormant."

"What?"

"It's been a week and there are no new missing cases, no new bodies. He's dormant. The director is requesting we move on, work on other cases."

Hotch sighed. "Don't stop keeping tabs on that killer."

She nodded.

"And..." he didn't know how to ask it.

She knew. "No change, Sir. He still hasn't left, still only rare grocery deliveries, he hasn't done anything strange."

Hotch nodded. "Thank you, Penelope."

***

"You're letting them forget about you." It wasn't a question. "I know what you're planning next."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you're in my head," Spencer muttered, pacing back and forth, scratching his head with a gun. "Do me a favor and shut up, Maeve."

"Can't tell me to shut up if you're the one that's creating me," she seemed almost smug.

Spencer didn't respond.

"You have to do it quickly, or they're going to catch you," she walked up behind him. "You have two weeks, maximum."

"I know!" Spencer yelled, turning to face the disappearing figure behind him. "I've done the math. I factored in the fact that I'm missing. I know how much time I have."

She was behind him again. "I'm just reminding you. I don't want you to get hurt, Spencer."

"And I didn't want you to get hurt. We both know how that turned out."

***

They were in a briefing when JJ's phone rang. It was Will. She picked up. "Will? What's wrong?"

His accent was audible even through the phone, though his words weren't. JJ went white and covered her mouth.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't hurt him."

It was too late. The entire room heard the gunshot over the phone.

***

"One down, seven to go," Spencer said as he drove away.

"I don't understand why you're targeting family," Maeve said.

"Will's a cop too." Spencer said shortly.

Maeve sighed, "Oh, so he didn't protect you either?"

"Exactly."

"And what about the kids?" Maeve asked, "Henry's at school, and he's like a son to you."

"His parents betrayed me," Spencer said shortly, "I'll spare Henry, and Jack is innocent too. But their parents aren't."

"We could've had children, you know. If things had been different."

Spencer pulled the car over and turned to face the empty seats behind him. "Shut up! We didn't! Things weren't different, and now this is what's happening."

***

There was no evidence.

JJ's husband was dead, and there was no evidence.

She was inconsolable, barely able to choke out any words.

Rossi met Hotch's eyes across the house. We know who this is. Neither of them wanted to say it.

***

Strauss's was public. She threw herself off the building. There were no notes. No public confessions. No calls. Just death.

Spencer was over 2,000 miles away when she died. As far as anyone knew, he was still in his apartment; Garcia double- and triple-checked. He barely glanced at the television coverage of the incident as he pulled his hood over his head and kept walking.

Maeve was different now; more a voice in his ear than a full-fledged person he talked to. It was as if the further away from home he was, the more distant she was from him.

"You should at least pay your respects," she said quietly.

"She was a bitch," he answered, matching her volume. "I feel no pity for her."

***

"We have to discuss the possibility that it's him," Rossi sighed as he sat down on the couch in Hotch's office.

"We both know Garcia has more tech expertise than the rest of us combined. Maybe than the rest of this building. If she says he's home, he's home."

"He's smarter than her," Dave countered.

Hotch shook his head. "Not when it comes to technology. The kid couldn't deal with a case file on a tablet, let alone getting around Garcia's web."

"He's not a kid. He's a possible suspect."

"No. He's not a suspect. He hasn't left his apartment. He's just an ex-employee."

He can't be a suspect.

***

Emily and Garcia sat next to each other, going over the cases repeatedly, searching for anything. The case files were burned into their memories, but they kept looking anyways.

"We have to consider-" Emily began.

"No." Penelope cut her off. "I keep so many tabs I'm basically the Russian government. It's not him."

"It isn't?"

They both whirled around. There was Spencer, one gun on each hip, looking surprisingly casual.

"Spence!" Garcia jumped up, about to go in for a hug.

Immediately, there was a gun out, trained on her forehead.

"Sit back down." His voice was ice-cold. "You too, Prentiss, don't even think about trying anything."

Shocked, they both sat down. His pupils were dilated, his eyes red from drugs and lack of sleep. He kept looking behind them, as if there was someone else there.

"They're your friends, Spencer," Maeve's voice was back to normal, much clearer than it had been in Vegas. "You can stop."

"No, I can't." The other gun was out now, trained on Emily's forehead, but he wasn't looking at either of them, "They know it's me now."

"Spencer, we understand you're hurting. We can figure something out," Emily tried, "Just put the guns down."

"Shut up, Prentiss!" He screamed.

All three women flinched at that.

"I'm done with this charade. I've already spent too long here."

Before anyone could say anything else, he fired.

Less than 10 minutes later, the three remaining members of the team showed up at Garcia's apartment to find Penelope and Emily's bodies. Once again, there was no evidence.

Spencer was long since gone.

The three of them sat outside the apartment, unspeaking. Finally, JJ stood.

"I'm going to his apartment."

None of them had to ask what she meant.

All of them knew she might not return alive.

They couldn't stop her.