Finding Spencer Smith was easy. Getting him to talk and doing it legally was another story.
He never really left the police station, only slipping out every now and then to visit Brendon as they theorized. Deputy Stump dragged him from his small cubicle in the corner and into the interrogation room. Jenna talked to him first, knowing it would be hazardous to Spencer's health if he and Josh were put in the same room together.
At first, he refused to talk. Spencer just stared at Jenna with lifeless eyes, the only emotion he showed being a hint of glee when she talked about the video tapes of Brendon's "experiments" they'd been receiving weekly for the past three months.
About a month into the investigation in Los Angeles, their team was pulled back to Quantico for other prioritized cases. But they never let it go. Despite the horrific recordings Brendon sent them as taunts, it was confirmation for Josh that Tyler was still alive, and that there was a chance to find him.
Tyler was the youngest of them, losing him was like losing a kid. They all blamed themselves, and in turn, blamed each other. Nobody was at fault, but they all felt responsibility. What could they have done differently, they thought, in order to bring him home safely?
Too late for that now.
Tyler was Brendon's longest victim. There had to be a reason he kept him alive for months now.
"She's getting nowhere with this guy," Brad said, crossing his arms as he and Josh watched behind the one-way mirror.
Josh was shaking with adrenaline, his temper too short to be looking at the man who assisted in the kidnapping of his soulmate. "Let me have a go at him. I can make him talk."
"Uh, no. Hell no. Fuck no. You'll kill him."
"Then I can mail his corpse to Brendon, see how he feels," Josh growled.
Before Brad could give him another lecture on handling his anger in a productive and healthy way, Dallon called Josh, who put him on speakerphone.
"Hold onto your pants, Magic Mike, because I've got some sexy news for you."
Brad rolled his eyes. "You're on speaker, Weekes."
"Sorry, sir. I've found Tyler."
Josh leaped for the phone. "Where?"
"You won't believe me."
"Where?"
"Under the warehouse."
He and Brad exchanged looks. "Dal-"
"No, you listen to me. I know you already checked that place top to bottom. I know there's no reason to check again, but I'm telling you that they've been under our noses this entire time. The video feed keeps triangulating from there. At first I thought it was an error, and as it turns out I was tracking Tyler's phone rather than the camera's signal, but that got me thinking-"
"Get to the point, Weekes," Josh snapped.
"The phone and cameras triangulated from the same area and after analyzing the video..." Dallon shivered for emphasis. "It turns out there's a metal panel in the warehouse floor that matches a trapdoor on the ceiling in the room where Tyler was being held."
Josh hung up, staring into space. Tyler had been there the whole time. He was always there, always in arm's reach.
"I'm going in there," he said, reaching for the handle into the interrogation room.
Brad grabbed his wrist. "Dun, don't-"
"Don't what?" Josh shouted. Spencer's eyes flicked upwards. "Don't force this dickhead to confirm that he's been there the whole damn time? Don't find Tyler and bring him home? Don't save him? He's my fucking lifeline, Heaton. I'd kill for him, and that's not going to stop now."
He got quiet, and he yanked his arm out of Brad's grasp. "I feel like I'm going crazy without him."
Brad put a hand on Josh's shoulder. "I understand, Josh. But please don't confront Spencer. That gives him and Urie the upper hand here. I am ordering you to go directly to the warehouse. Go find Orzechowski and Akers and brief them on the location. Don't come back until you've brought him home."
So, he did. Sarah and Judah were on board with them going first, with Jenna and the others meeting them there. Spencer was still in custody, so as long as Brendon didn't have a second partner, there was no way for him to know they were coming.
Josh burst through the door, guns blazing, but he froze when he saw him. The love of his life, all bandages and bruised and looking psychotic, held a pair of bloody scissors in his hand, Brendon's mangled corpse lying just behind him.
There was too much blood on the floor to belong to just one person. Tyler's pupil and iris were dark red, like blood had pooled into his eyes. The corners of his mouth had remnants of thin scabs, and splotches of bruises covered the parts of his skin wasn't wrapped by bandages.
Tyler blinked and tilted his head to the side, giggling hysterically. "Hey," he said, voice hoarse and high pitched. He pointed the scissors at Josh. "I thought you were dead."
His eyes rolled back into his head so only the whites showed, and Tyler crumbled onto the mud caked ground, scissors clattering. Josh couldn't move.
Jenna moved in first, shouting into her walkie talkie, "We need a medic down here immediately!"
The others moved forward, some scanning the room and Mark checking Tyler's pulse, but Josh's feet seemed to melt into the floor, rendering him useless. Seeing Tyler collapse on the floor after missing for almost four months, his face swollen and purple and body covered in bandages made him want to murder Brendon.
If he weren't already dead, that is.
Brendon had been stabbed over forty times, from what Brad could tell, but considering the amount of overkill, it was probably more. Josh didn't want to believe that Tyler, the man who would pick spiders up in cups around their house and set them free outside of their apartment, could kill in such a horrific fashion. But desperate times, desperate measures.
The EMT's wheeled Tyler out in a gurney, allowing Josh and Mark to ride with him to the hospital. On the way, they read aloud the multitude of injuries he'd incurred, both healed and unhealed.
Broken ribs, punctured lung, multiple puncture wounds around his body, holes drilled into his hands, lacerations all around his feet and legs, bits of broken glass still imbedded in his skin, internal bleeding, heart arrhythmia, eight ball fractures in both eyes, 2nd degree burns on his spine and upper thighs, dislocated left wrist and shoulder, severe lacerations around his mouth and neck, and a concussion. That wasn't even counting the lack of food, water, and sleep.
The nurse said it would be a miracle if Tyler survived, much less woke up from the medically induced coma they put him in to stabilize him. A day longer and he definitely would've been a goner.
Tyler was immediately rushed to the ER for surgery. The others joined them soon after, Dallon walking in last. Mark rested his head against Josh's as they sat in the waiting room, silently crying. Nobody said anything. What could they say? Finding Tyler was supposed to be a burden off their shoulders, but now it felt like the weight of the sky had collapsed on top of them.
"Please let him be okay," Josh whispered to no one in particular. "I can't lose him too."

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A FRACTURE IN THE CONSCIOUSNESS ✓
Fanfiction"There's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line." - Oscar Levant {trigger warning: depictions of graphic violence, blood, torture, murder, gore, etc} {joshler}