Note; Yay for camping, and getting rid of writers block. I still think this chapter is short... but whatever. The reason for Riley's abrupt death will come out in this and we get to enjoy a wonderful mystery of a new killer. ^^ Enjoy.

Disclaimer; I don't own... blahblahblah... I'm too lazy to write this out.

Pairing; Carter Blake x Norman Jayden

Chapter I

It had been a week since Riley was killed, and Blake was already about to take up the man's work and kill all the fucking reporters that crowded around him. Thanking him for a murder he didn't even commit, and asking him questions about the same thing. He slammed his front door closed and glared ahead, for once he was shrouded in silence, and he loved it. He walked away from the door that blocked the jackal like reporters from bombarding him with stupid questions which did nothing but waste his time. Riley was dead and six feet under, get over it already… annoy Baldric, seeing as he was the one who pulled the trigger. Though sometimes he wished it was him, then maybe he wouldn't be so on edge? That sounded nice, just picking up his gun and shooting someone in the head. Stand back at a good distance and watch as their blood and brain matter splattered out of their skull, leaving a nice hole going through their head. It all sounded wonderful, he'd love to do it to one of the reporters who wouldn't stop nipping at his heels. They were like wild rabid dogs that needed to be kicked in the face.

He flopped down on his couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. Staring boredly at the blank TV he looked to the watch on his wrist, reading the time he sighed and dropped his arm. A week without taking his anger out on Jayden's body through sex and he was about ready to go on a massacre. He could imagine the man's soft, warm, skin as he writhed in pleasure under him. How that pretty mouth of his hung open and how he cried out in pure ecstasy. He took in a sharp intake of breath at the thought, not realizing that his hand absentmindedly made its way towards the growing bulge in his pants. He hesitated then pulled his hand back, getting up he made his way towards the kitchen where he grabbed a beer. Twisting off the cap he went back to the couch and sat down, he needed to not think about fucking Jayden… no matter how much he wanted to… he needed to focus on something else. He took in a deep breath before taking a swig of his beer. He tried to remember what he usually did when Jayden wasn't there to ravish. Let's see he'd beat up suspects, but the crime rate had been slow and he was too busy with paperwork to go out on minor cases. Hang out with Ash and go to the bar… but he hadn't hung out with Ash in a while seeing as the man was busy with… well he didn't really pay attention to what Ash said. All he knew was the man was busy so he didn't have a drinking buddy. 'Jayden's surprisingly good at holding his alcohol…' he groaned at the thought before rubbing his face with his hand and taking another swig of his beer.

What the fuck was Jayden doing anyway? Waiting for Christmas? He looked to his gun which sat on the table and slowly began to wish it was a revolver. That way he could take out all but one bullet and play a nice harmless game of Russian roulette… though he guessed it was only harmless if luck was on your side. Would that just look like a suicide? Was Russian roulette considered suicide? He shook his head from the thoughts and kept his eyes trained on the gun, thinking of times when he's had to use it or take it out for the intimidation factor if someone was running… or whatever else the case happened to be. His eyes shifted back towards the watch on his wrist, he'd only been home for three minutes and he was already bored out of his mind. He didn't understand why he was forced to go home, everything was fine at work. He'd just been working on paperwork… sure he yelled at Perry because the man was doing his usual annoying publicity thing. But that was Perry's job, he had no right to try and make him talk with those fucking vultures who gathered around him like he was a carcass they could live off of. There was no way in hell he was going to go talk with the reporters about what happened… besides, it was a fucking lie anyway. Sure Jayden was in a hostage situation, but he got him out of it by putting a gun to Riley's head. The man gave up, and Baldric just shot him point blank… no excuse… no reason… well no reason that he was aware of anyway.

In his boredom he wound up on his front porch with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He leaned boredly against the wall of his house and took a deep drag, slowly letting it out he took the final swig of his beer. He carelessly tossed in the box he had outside for recycle if he happened to drink outside, seeing as he didn't spend much time inside anyway. Only time he really spent time inside was to sleep or fuck… the latter sounded really good at the moment. He blinked at the sound of his cell phone ringing, pulling it out of his pocket he smirked as he saw Ash's name across the screen. Perhaps now he can get out of this place and do something worthwhile. "Hello?" he asked in a harsh tone, wondering if this was really for something or if it was just a pointless call. He'd keep his fingers crossed that it was for a case, or something. Maybe they'd be questioning someone and he'd finally be able to beat the shit out of someone. He'd been itching for blood, a lot recently.

"You need to see this…"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Pain… there was so much pain he felt like he was going to be sick. Nausea hit him with every movement, and it didn't help that the forest was spinning. He could see the bright blue vials in the corner of his eyes. He turned his head and stared at the vials as if he was a hawk and they were field mice just lounging around. He slid off the bench of his piano and made his way to the vials, he quickly shot his hand out and grabbed one as if they would run away from him. He sat down cross-legged. He desperately worked to pull the stopper off the vial and raised it to his face. He took in a deep inhale of the fluorescent blue powder, feeling it coat the inside of his nose and the back of his throat. His head instantly began to swim in the numbing sensation that rushed through his body, the autumn forest was no more, but instead he sat on the floor of his living room.

He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling with an abnormally calm look on his face. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. Relishing in the wonderful calm that was rushing through his numbing body, triptocaine really did do wonders. If he wasn't so bitter about the addiction he'd have to give the creator a big fat wet kiss. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought as he slowly sat up, rubbing his head he got to his feet and made his way back to the piano. He tugged at the collar of his grey t-shirt before sitting down on the bench. He moved his hands and began to play "Le Moulin" by Yann Tiersen. It was a nice calming song, one that he found fit his state of mind perfectly, he held a small drugged smile as he danced his fingers over the keys in a graceful manner.

Everything was perfect here, in this state. There was no more pain, no more thoughts, no more withdrawals or cravings. There was just him, and the piano, and the beautiful sound as each of his fingers pressed on the keys. But it didn't last… it never lasted. Like cocaine you crashed on it quickly, in the beginning it was wonderful and you want more and more and more. But then after giving into your cravings it's no longer about wanting more, it's about needing more. You need more so it lasts longer. You need more because your immunity has built up. You need more because it's calling you, taunting you, even though you aren't anywhere near the fucking vial. His fingers faltered over the keys and he stopped playing, he stared down at the keys and breathed heavily before his eyes warily made their way over towards the vials he had. This wasn't right… this definitely wasn't right. He needed to get away from it.

He stood up and ignored the sound of the bench as it slid backwards from his forceful stand. He held his right hand tightly in his left as he walked away from the vials, heading towards his stairs he made a b-line for the bathroom. Shoving open the door her quickly began to strip out of his clothing, he needed to shower, he needed to calm down. "I need more." He leaned on the sink and gripped the basin tightly in his violently shaking hands. He stared at the reflection of himself and arched a brow. There was no way that was him, he looked feral, like a dog that had been so badly beaten by its owner it no longer wanted any sort of attention. His eyes were sunken and his pale skin was even paler, he'd once more gained some more muscles from fighting he'd done with Blake back in Phili to the furious work out sessions when he resigned. Why was he furious again?

He put his head down and groaned as he tried to come up with the reason as to why he was mad. "Shower first… then focus." He told himself as he moved away from the sink and turned on the water. He got in ignoring the water as it scolded his body, turning his pale skin a bright red.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The smell of rotting flesh and blood cruelly attacked his nostrils as he stood in the kitchen next to Ash. Sitting at the kitchen table was a woman who had been dead for what he was guessing to be four weeks, she was decaying and maggots were wiggling around in the large open wound in her throat. He almost laughed as a cop on the scene began to retch at the smell and the sight. Apparently her neighbors had been complaining about the smell coming from her apartment, and the landlord had enough of the complaints, plus there was fact she hadn't paid her bills that month, so he came to pay her a visit. Of course when he opened the door this was the sight he was horrified to stumble upon. Blake stepped around the table and looked into her sunken glazed over eyes. They were so dry he was wondering if he were to touch them if they crumbled under his touch. He couldn't help but smile at the odd thought of something like that happening. Though it would be abnormally amusing, more amusing then staring at her stupid corpse and trying to find out why the hell someone would do this to her. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out; the smell in the room was nothing to everything he'd seen on the force. Sure when he was younger something like this would probably get to him, maybe even haunt him in his sleep, but not anymore. Now it was all just an inconvenience for him.

Her skin was a pale grey from how long her body had been rotting in the dark. She had dark bruises around her mouth, and wrists. There were ones on the bottom of her legs, obviously from what was left of her blood settling in that place do to the fact she was dead. The other bruises were in the shape of handprints. The sick bastard who killed her not only sliced open her throat, and stripped her, but posed her at the kitchen table as if she were eating. Guessing from the pose her right hand was in, she used to be holding the spoon that was lying on the table under her fingers. Whoever did this had the patients to hang around the body to make sure she stayed this way as rigor mortis kicked in, so now came the fun part of the investigation… talking to friends and family.

"You know what this makes me think of?" Ash asked while looking the body over before turning his attention to Blake. The older man slowly looked over to Ash not really caring though he guessed it could be something helpful, he arched a brow in mock interest, allowing the man to go on. "The Taxidermist…"

"Except for this guy isn't living with her dead body." He muttered, the Taxidermist was a sick fuck, living with his victim's bodies and treating them like they were still living. Toys to his fucked up sexual fantasy world, which made him wonder if this new guy got the same sick satisfaction from killing the woman and leaving her like this. If it wasn't for Madison Paige the sick bastard would have never been found, that girl seemed to have a knack for finding serial killers… he wondered if she would get dragged into this crime as well. "Has she been identified?"

"The landlord said her name was Brianna Thompson, she's twenty three and from all the messages on her answering machine, and in her mailbox she's a student at Drexel University." Ash said with a shrug as he looked from the staring corpse to Blake who walked behind the woman and looked towards where she was looking. Nothing seemed out of place from where she sat, he looked back to her and noticed that there was no blood around the chair, just on her body and he knew from the large gaping wound there should be more.

"Where was she killed?" Blake asked looking back over to Ash who pointed towards the small hallway. Blake looked at him for a second then made his way over towards where the man pointed. It didn't take long to find the large blood trail smeared across the floor. He pushed open the door to where it led and stared at the white wall which was decorated with blood. His mind could already play the entire scene between her and the killer, how he had already been someone she allowed in her house, and how he obviously betrayed the trust. Her muffled screams echoed through his head as he imagined the killer holding her against his chest, his hand clasped tightly around her mouth before sliding the knife across her throat. He could imagine the sound of her skin, muscle, tissue, and that main artery as they were violently ripped open. He could imagine the sound of her life force as it rushed beautifully out of her neck each time her heart pumped. He could also imagine the sound of her heart beating faster than a canary's when it realized it was in a toxic mine. He knelt down by the bed and noticed the bloody hand print on it, obviously from her trying pointlessly to pull away. Now the question was, why? Why was she chosen to be killed so violently, yet posed to delicately? There had to be a clue around here.

The only thing he had found in the room was her clothes, text books, homework, research, money, and that was it. He walked out of the room and found Ash drinking a coffee and talking with a couple other officers who were at the scene. "There are no pictures." He said as he stood next to Ash.

"Hmm?"

"In this house… There aren't any pictures, not even old photo albums. From the pattern on her bedroom wall there used to be picture frames there."

"Maybe it was a stalker." Blake found himself annoyed at the comment. A stalker? Really? Is that all the man could come up with? He felt like he was stuck with a moron. Where the hell were the calculating looks and the mumble of a deep thought that might not even be completely thought out? Why the fuck was Ash being so incompetent by adding the off comment about a stalker!? Who in their right mind would allow a stalker to come in their house, from the look of things they obviously had spent the night together. Next was he going to suggest a fucking one night stand? Actually… wait… that could be the case…

"Right, well I'm going to go talk with her family, I'll see you at the station." His tone and gaze read anything but friendly, as he walked out of the apartment. He may not have been the one to draw the blood but seeing and smelling it was enough to at least gag that carnal urge of his. He smirked as he headed towards the exit of the hotel wondering if he should have a smoke break before he made his way to her parent's house. He shook the thought away as he walked down the stars and right out the door, easily ignoring the officers in the area as he made his way towards his car. Getting in he blinked as his phone began to ring, reaching in his pocket he pulled it out and arched a brow at the name across his phone screen. Answering it he leaned back in his seat and stared out the windshield. "Norman?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He stared at the vial of triptocaine which sat on his coffee table across from him; he sat on his couch and stared at it. He held his phone in his ear in one hand and the other shook violently with an empty vial. Hearing the man's voice Jayden smiled before lying down on his side, looking to the empty vials that littered his floor. "Carter… I think I need help." He said with a small laugh, his blood shot eyes locked on the full vial once more. He moved his bare foot and kicked the taunting florescent blue vial to the floor. He could hear Blake give a heavy sigh from the other line and Jayden shifted before laying flat on his stomach on his couch, enjoying the cold fabric on his hot, naked, skin.

"Help with what?" Jayden gave a small laugh as he looked back to the vials on the floor.

"I… I can't stop taking it. I thought that maybe one sniff wouldn't hurt… it would make the pain and the hallucinations go away. And it did… then it wore off, and now… now I can't stop… I want more."

"Jesus Christ, Norman!"

"I'm sorry… just… I don't have ARI anymore… and… I… I don't think I can drive. I've been drinking a lot… and I mean a lot. I don't even know what day it is… I remember Riley's funeral… everything else is fuzzy. I haven't slept since I got back… maybe a nap or two… oh wait… I guess I passed out… Does that count as sleeping?" Jayden asked with a thoughtful look on his face.

"And what the fuck do you expect me to do?"

"Talk to me?" Jayden asked slowly closing his eyes.

"I don't have time to babysit you I have work to do."

"Please, Carter?" He heard a heavy sigh followed by some shifting; he bit his bottom lip and shifted as well. He could imagine the older man touch him, the way his rough calloused hands had the ability to bring him so much pain and so much pleasure in one harsh grab. He could imagine his hands trail down his body and he shifted in want, he bit back a soft moan that was threatening to escape. "What's happening at work?" Jayden asked taking in a deep breath as he rolled over on his back, deciding to save his sick fantasies for later.

"Some sick fuck killed a woman in her apartment, and posed her at the kitchen table, she would still be holding a spoon if the muscles in her hand hadn't deteriorated."

"Where was she killed?"

"Her bedroom… and an odd thing is, all the pictures in the house are missing." Jayden slowly sat up, dropping the empty vial he ran his hand through his hair.

"You sure she had some?"

"Seeing as there was a perfect rectangle shape in her blood sprayed wall, yeah, I'm sure."

"You said she was posed, what's she wearing."

"Her own blood…"

"I'm serious, is it normal clothes or-"

"She's naked." Jayden hesitated and shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"Oh… was she stripped?"

"There was no sign of a struggle and from how the blood is on her body she wasn't wearing clothes when she was killed. Only bruising is from the blood settling in her body, except for over her mouth. Her eyes were also wide open."

"So… she's naked, no struggle, and… how was she killed?"

"Her throat was slit… nice and wide too."

"Do you have any suspects?"

"A boyfriend… if she has one…"

"Have you talked to friends and family?"

"That's what I was about to do, then you called." He finished in a harsh tone, Jayden couldn't help but smile as he once more ran a hand through his hair.

"Carter…"

"What?" Jayden just stared at the coffee table, he watched as the tanks began to drive around it and he froze as he felt the hot sun on his already burning skin. Sweat instantly began to cling to his body. He closed his eyes and rocked slightly, the whirling sound of the tank engines slowly turned into chirping and singing birds. He slowly opened his eyes and stared out over the cliff of the plateau he sat on, staring down at the forest and river. He looked around himself before slowly standing up, unsure what to do. His eyes slowly locked on the vial that was a couple feet away from him, it laid dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. "Norman?" He hardly heard the man's voice as he dropped the phone and slowly made his way towards the vial. He could feel the warmth of the rock on his feet as he closed the distance between himself and the vial. He began to reach for it but stopped at the sight of charcoal slacks and a pair of brown loafers that were by the vial. He stood up straight and stared into his own face.

'What are you doing?' Jayden arched a brow at his other self. Did it really have to ask? Wasn't it obvious what he was doing?

"You… are not real." Jayden said pointing his finger at the man who stood in front of him with a small nervous laugh. "Now… go 'way." He added with a dismissive wave. He turned his head back towards the phone he dropped on the plateau as he heard it ring. He looked from the phone towards the vial by his other self's feet.

'Answer the phone.'

"Why don't you answer the phone?" Jayden asked in slight annoyance watching as his other self stood between him and the vial.

'We don't need this. You know that.'

"But…" He stopped and looked back towards the phone as it started to ring again. He looked back towards the vial, noticing that his other self was gone, walking over he sat down by the edge of the plateau and picked up the vial. "A little won't hurt… just enough to make the pain go away…" He started to pull the stopper off and paused as he looked back towards the ringing phone.

'Answer the phone!' He pulled himself to his feet and grabbed the phone, sitting back down on the couch he answered it.

"Hello?"

"What the fuck were you doing?" Hearing Blake's voice he slowly set the vial down and leaned back on the couch.

"I don't know…" He heard Blake give an annoyed sigh, he slowly closed his eyes and once more laid on his side.

"Where are you?"

"A plateau…" Jayden stated in a bored manner as he looked around the area, he looked up at the sky and watched a flock of birds fly by.

"A plateau…? Is that drug of yours a fucking hallucinogen?" Jayden scoffed at the comment.

"Tripto already wore off… and no… it's not a halluci-" He cut himself off as he heard a knock echo around him, now the question was, where was it coming from? He closed his eyes and slowly opened them arching a brow as he realized he was sitting on his couch at home. He looked back towards the door as another knock echoed through the room.

"Norman? I swear to god if you walked away from the phone again…"

"Someone's at the door."

"Then answer it."

"I'm naked…" He could hear Blake laugh on the other side of the line and he felt rather awkward for telling him that small fact.

"Naked? Ya jerkin' off too?" Blake asked in a taunting voice, a smirk crossed Jayden's face as he slowly got up off the couch and walked towards his bedroom. Ignoring the sound of knocking, it was probably a solicitor of some sort. He wasn't really in the mood to deal with people.

"I could if it would please you." Jayden said in the same tone of voice, he heard Blake shift and smiled as he pushed open his door. Walking over he laid down on his untouched bed, feeling the soft blankets on his skin caused him to shiver as he rested his head on a pillow.

"Norman… I don't have time for this."

"Then why'd you call me back when I walked away? You could have just hung up and gone on with your day."

"Why don't you have ARI anymore?"

"I resigned. I am no longer an FBI agent, I am no longer in the ARI project… I'd be more settled if Baldric didn't have his new dog watching my every move though." Jayden stated with distaste in his voice.

"New dog? What he got tired of the old ones?"

"No… they're still nipping at his heels and sitting in his lap like the good dogs they are. This one however is… well… It's Hunter." He heard Blake choke on something and he slowly began to wonder what the older man was doing on the other side of the phone.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… Wait… Hunter? Like worked with Riley and killed cops and agents, Hunter?" Jayden scowled as he sat up and rested his head in his hand.

"Yeah… that Hunter." Jayden said in a bored manner.

"He's a killer."

"Who is under close surveillance... We're both being watched. Besides one wrong move and they'll put him down. Hunter's good at following rules though." Jayden said with a shrug.

"Why are you being watched?"

"I gave up ARI… take a fucking guess."

"Is that why you haven't left?"

"I can't leave, I'm too drunk to leave… I'm too high to leave… All I want to do is drown in Bacardi 151 and my triptocaine… I guess that's selfish isn't it?"

"What's your address?"

"Why…"

"Just answer the fucking question, Norman."