These Endless Days, 17/?
Title: These Endless Days
Rating: R
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Creatures of the Night (Part Three)
Characters/Pairing: JJ/Hotch; Morgan/Prentiss
Genre: Supernatural/Drama
Summary: The forces of darkness are creeping ever closer to war. Before the team can pick a side, they have to figure out who's actually fighting.
Chapter Seventeen
Her steps are slow, and measured. There's an air of darkness to her that Hotch has never seen before. Not that he's known her for very long, but it's long enough for him to know that this isn't her.
'Emily, think about what you're doing,' he says, in a voice that could be described as pleading.
On some level, he had failed.
He had seen the relationship between her and her mother. He had known that someday it would come to a bloody climax. But not like this.
She's not interested in Reid. That much becomes clear quickly, when she swats him aside like a fly. Hotch moves to help him, but she's already grabbed him by the neck. He feels his bones break as his body slams against the tree. Ribs, arm. Maybe some spinal damage. His grip on the crossbow tightens. He doesn't want to pull the trigger, but if it comes down to choosing…
He's not proud of his choice, but it's the same choice he would make every time. He's not sure if it will do any good. With barely half a second's hesitation, he fires. The stake catches her in the arm, and makes a hissing sound as the skin burns. She moves to pull it out, and he notices that her hand is already blackened and bloody.
'Hotchner.' Her voice drips with pure venom. It's not really her voice at all. It's the voice of an unageing monster, soaked in the blood of thousands. Whatever had gone down at the castle, Emily has fallen under her mother's spell.
Her hands grab his shoulders, and he knows what is next. A fate that's only fitting. He's not sure why he hadn't seen it coming.
When Elizabeth had attacked him, it had been a messy, bloody affair. His neck had been a mess of flesh and muscle, and some days he still feels the tingle from damaged nerve endings.
Emily's bite is slow and precise. It's the bite that a lover would give, only she's the furthest thing from it. This is a taunt.
'You don't know what you're doing, Emily,' he says. For half a second, there's a flash of recognition in her eyes, but it passes. He tries to pull away, but he knows that it's pointless. She can hold him down with a single finger if she really wants to.
When she pulls back, she gives a slow, rich laugh.
'Are you going to kill me now?' he asks - not out of fear. He asks, because he just wants to know. He does not want to be surprised by his death.
'Kill you?' Emily asks, genuinely surprised. 'Why would I want to do that?' Her arm wraps around his neck. Her good hand lifts to her mouth, and she bites her own wrist. 'Aaron, haven't you always wanted to know what things were like on the other side? You've always hated us, but haven't you ever taken the time to consider that it's you who's in the wrong?'
'I'm not wrong,' he says, resolutely. 'I don't hate vampires. I hate people who think they can get away with breaking the law.' He doesn't like to use the word hate. It's a strong word that should not be used lightly. Elizabeth has twisted her daughter's mind - perhaps beyond repair. Blood is a very powerful thing, in more ways than one.
'Laws made by men,' Emily sneers. 'Men who hated me before I was even born, by sheer virtue of where I came from. Men who decided that I should be slaughtered without having ever met me. Men who decided that their uneasiness warranted my imprisonment. And you wonder why I'm uncomfortable on your team. Your worse than the ones who hunt us for sport.'
He knows that those aren't her words, and yet he can't say with certainty that she's wrong. Everything is starting to go murky, and that's not just the blood loss talking. She puts her wrist to his mouth, and he doesn't have the strength to pull away.
She alternates between taking his blood, and feeding him her own. Already, he can feel his body starting to change.
It's the end of his life. Of this life at least. Anything that had ever made him human is trickling away.
The word forever has new meaning.
…
Reid opens his eyes.
His body is broken.
He's been injured before - many, many times, if you were to ask the rest of the team, who he's pretty sure have a bingo game running. Every time, his body rebuilds.
The Six Billion Dollar Man, Garcia has called him a couple of times, which, really, is a misnomer, because nobody's really sure how much he had cost.
His broken hand grasps the dropped crossbow. So busy with Hotch, she hasn't even noticed him moving.
He doesn't want to kill her. He doesn't know if he can kill her.
Whatever this is, it isn't her fault. It can't be. She can't have - wouldn't have - betrayed them.
You don't know that, says the voice inside his head. It's true. He doesn't - but years of profiling experience makes him want to believe it.
She snarls as the first stake goes through her shoulder. The black in her eyes is deep, and dark, and soulless. Though really, he isn't one to talk about soulless. She tears the stake from her body, and the wound heals in seconds. Now that she's had human blood, she's ten times - a hundred times - more powerful than she had been. The second stake, she swats away before it can even pierce the skin.
She could take on an army, and win.
She rips the crossbow from his hand, and crushes it in her grip. This is it. She's going to kill him now.
His blood is worthless, so she'll snap his neck. A twist and a crack, and then it's all done.
But she doesn't.
'It's over,' she says. 'You've lost.'
And then she walks away.