Supernatural X Criminal Minds
Author's Note: AU after Supernatural episode "Bedtime Stories" in Season 3 and Criminal Minds episode "7 Seconds" in Season 3. It will include the beginning of Supernatural episode "Red Sky at Morning" and Criminal Minds episode "About Face," though in a different context. David Rossi is also a member of the current BAU team, returning three episodes ago in "Scared to Death" instead of in "About Face."
Disclaimer: I do not own any aspects of Criminal Minds or Supernatural. All copyrights go to their respective companies and entities. All OCs, thoughts, and musings, when not quoted, are mine though.
Minor grammatical revision: 1/19/17
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. November 10, 2002
"I love you, Jen." Already she could tell that she would not like what was coming next. He only ever called her "Jen" when it was something serious, knowing that she hated the name.
"I love you," he said again. "Much more than I thought I would, much more than I thought possible," he breathed as he held her close. Maybe for the last time, he thought grimly. He knew she could hear him; she had been awake for a while, tracing figure eights on his chest.
The two of them were in her room again, and he loved it there. It didn't matter to him that her room was covered with soccer posters and butterfly paintings, that there was a dart board hanging on the back of her door, that it was one of the strangest female rooms he had ever been in. He loved it all because he loved her and because her room was one of the few places that offered him a sense of stability he secretly craved for, but dared not pursue.
He had been surprised the first time he had seen the pictures of them together framed and displayed on her drawers for all to see, but now he couldn't imagine her room without them. He cherished these morning moments the most, with the two of them just lying in bed together, bathing in each other's company. With his earlier thoughts in mind, he pulled her even closer, savouring her presence and every little second they have together.
She knew what was going to come next. The two of them had never meant for it to get so serious so fast when they first started seeing each other, but it was inevitable the more time they spent together. She knew that with what he did for a living, his duty, what they had would not last, but she could not bring herself to regret any minute of the time they spent together. She wanted to stop what was coming, or at least tried to hold on to their moment a little longer. "De –"she started, but was quickly interrupted by him.
"No, stop," he cut in; his chest vibrating beneath her, tickling her. "Just let me finish."
She didn't want to because it would mean that they would be finished soon, but she stopped herself anyway. She didn't want to argue with him, not when she knew they had so little time left together.
"Jen," he began again as he toyed with strands of her honey-golden hair. "I love you. I really do, and that's why I need to leave. What I do..." he stopped and started again. "With my family business, I've made a lot of enemies, dangerous enemies. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if one of them found out about you and came after you to get back at me. If I were the reason you got hurt ..." he left the thought hanging, afraid that if he finished it, he might jinxed them.
He didn't need to; she knew all too well what could happen if one of the monsters he fought found out about her connection to him. That was how they met anyway, him saving her from ...what was it that he called the creature again? A Wendigo? Anyway, it was more two years ago when... She quickly pushed the haunted thoughts out of her mind before the memories could assault her. Focusing back to the present, she replied, "I know. I understand why you think you have to leave, but stay, please. I can handle them."
"Maybe, but I won't risk it," he stated with a sense of finality. "I rather you stay out of the supernatural world. I'm leaving, and that's that," he declared as he moved to get up.
Sensing that any argument would be fruitless, she moved to follow her lover. "Alright. Fine," she gave in. "I know you have to leave, but let me have today. Let us have today." His resolve melted as she captured his lips in hers.
When she woke up the next morning, the space beside her was empty, and she knew that he was gone from her life, possibly forever.
Dumfries, Virginia. October 27, 2007
Jenna Tomson was the kind of girl who believed that everything happened for a reason so when she found herself in her current predicament, it was safe to say that her belief system was completely shattered. Bounded and gagged to a standard wooden chair, Jenna tried to block out the screams and pleas of the man being tortured in front of her. Letting out a whimper, she didn't how much longer she could endure the psychological torture she knew her captors were doing to her.
As if they could read her thoughts, one of demented monsters walked toward her. Leaning down to wipe away the tears that were trailing down her cheeks, her torturer said with a chuckle, "Don't worry, sweetie. It'll be your turn soon. No need to get impatient."
Jenna couldn't take it anymore after that. She screamed and cried and struggled against her bonds like her life depended on it. Her futile efforts only served to amuse her captor even more as he patted her cheek again, leaving blood sticking to her face and clinging to strands of her honey-golden hair.
Satisfied with his work, the demented man turned to join his partner in carving up what was left of their male victim. Aside from the laughter and screams of pleasure every time either one of their victims cries or screams from pain, the pair continued filleting their unfortunate subject in silence.
At last, as if bored, the leader of the pair wiped the blood from her face as she turned to set the carving knife that she was using back in the tray of torture instruments at the foot of the blood-stained metal bed. "Enough," she commanded, speaking for the first time since Jenna's abduction. "Get rid of this useless meat suit. We'll start on the other one first thing tomorrow." Her tone remained light and eager even as the object of her statement struggled and screamed against her bonds.
At the instruction, the latter of the pair set about dumping what was left of their plaything into two large, black trash bags before heading out the door, stopping once to run his blood-stained hand through Jenna's golden hair again. Earning a shudder and some more struggles from the poor girl for his troubles, the immoral man laughed with pleasure as he left the room.
Amused by her partner's antics, the raven-haired woman, not to be outdone, stalked toward her scared stiff audience. Catching a few strands of her prey's hair, she chuckled, "I can see why he likes running his hands through your hair so much. Smooth as silk the thing is." Grasping Jenna's tear-stricken face firmly in her hand when the girl had tried to move away, the dark-haired torturer cooed, "Don't worry. We'll try to be gentle." Laughing, she straightened up to leave, but not before ripping away, none too gently, the duct tape that was keeping her victim silent. As screams of agony filled the dark, dungeon-like room, the demented woman strolled away, cackling while she thought of all the fun she would have with the female human the following morning.
Quantico, Virginia. October 30, 2007.
No one can say that the FBI lacked spirit after seeing the BAU bullpen on the Eve of Halloween. There were plastic Jack-O-Lanterns on every desks; each wearing the classic grin. There were orange and black streamers hanging off doors and stairs, and decorative masks, some black and white, some solid red, lying on file cabinets and desks.
To add to this festive atmosphere, Dr. Spencer Reid, residential genius of the renowned BAU, limped in, decked out in costumes, unknown to his teammates, Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss, as he sneaked up behind them. With a mask of Frankenstein's monster and a noose around his neck, Reid quietly crept up behind Morgan who was busy reading one of the many case files on his desk. "Grr. Grr. I'm going to eat you," Reid growled as he leaned close.
Morgan turned around at the sound of his colleague's voice before he quickly pulled back, obviously startled by Reid's close proximity and headwear, earning a chuckle from Prentiss, who despite Reid's best effort to be stealthy, had indeed notice him the moment he hobbled in. "Reid," Morgan exclaimed, annoyance colored his voice.
Reid ignored Morgan's displeasure as he moved to his desk in front of the pair. He nonchalantly greeted the two with a smile, "Happy All Hallow's Eve, folks." As he took off the Frankenstein's monster mask and the noose, he continued excitedly, "It's a paraphrase from Celtic mythology. Tomorrow night all order is suspended, and the barriers between the natural and the supernatural are temporally remooooved!" Prentiss laughed again as Reid playfully tossed her a full-faced monster mask with shrunken teeth from the large, brown paper bag he was carrying.
"See, that right there is why Halloween creep me out," Morgan pointed out before turning back to his reading.
"You're scared of Halloween?" Reid questioned, somewhat surprised that the ever fearless agent could be afraid of something.
"I didn't say I was scared," Morgan denied, all too quickly. "I said I was crept out. There's a difference there, youngster. You should look it up," he said, hoping to get Reid off his back.
Oblivious to his friend's discomfort, Reid questioned, "What creeps you out about it?" He couldn't really get why Morgan wouldn't like Halloween, a fun and sugary-sweet holiday.
Seeing that he was going to be a part of this conversation for the long run, Morgan closed the file he was trying to read and tossed it back on his desk while Prentiss rolled her chair closer, curious to hear Morgan's answer. "I don't know," Morgan started. "People wearing masks. I just don't like folks in disguises," he stated.
"It's the best thing about Halloween!" Reid exclaimed as he looked at Prentiss, surprised by Morgan's lack of love for the amusing holiday. "You can to be anyone you want to be!" Reid remarked as he tossed Morgan a piece of candy from his stash.
"Nan. I'm pretty good just being me," stated Morgan as he popped the piece of candy Reid gave him in his mouth.
Amused by her teammates, Prentiss interjected, " Yeah. Why is it that neither of those points of views surprises me?"
"You know what though?" Morgan began, clearly enjoying this conversation now that no one thought he was scared of Halloween anymore. "On the flip side, it does provide a pretty good reason to cozy up with a scary flick and a little Halloween honey," he revealed as he clicked his tongue and winked at Prentiss.
"Eww," said Prentiss, disturbed and definitely regretting egging Morgan on. "And Halloween honey? That's n - Now I'm crept out."
"What creeps you out?" questioned a new voice from behind Prentiss and Morgan.
"Rossi!" greeted Reid as the newest member of the team, David Rossi, moved to stand next to him.
"Hey," chorused Prentiss and Morgan. "We're just discussing Morgan's idea of a perfect Halloween," Prentiss replied to the older man's question from earlier. "What's your idea of perfect Halloween night, Rossi?" she asked, curious.
"Well," started Rossi, "I think it's a perfect time to cozy up with a scary flick and a little Halloween honey." Seeing the disturbed and somewhat disgusted look on Prentiss's face as soon as he said those words, Rossi let out the chuckles he had been holding in since he had walked in the BAU earlier and caught the end of his teammates' conversation.
"Not you too!" Prentiss exclaimed the same time Reid asked "Wait, seriously?"
"Sorry," replied Rossi, "I just couldn't resist! Although, Morgan, while I do think that is a good idea, I happen to like hosting masquerade balls much better. In fact," Rossi continued, "I'm hosting one this year, and you are all invited, of course."
A smile appeared on Prentiss's face as she traded a glance with Morgan. "Cool," replied the latter, "when's the party?"
"You know, masquerade balls were extended into costumed public festivities in Italy during the 16th century Renaissance. They were generally elaborate dances held for members of the upper classes, and were particularly popular in Venice," commented Reid.
Turning to his genius of a teammate, Rossi stared at Reid for a moment before he replied, "Thank you, Reid."
Seeing Rossi's response, Morgan gave a chuckle and popped another piece of candy in his mouth. "You'll get use to that," assured Prentiss with a smile.
"Riiight," was all Rossi could say before Hotch's voice was heard, calling to his team. "Guys, JJ has a case for us," said the Unit Chief as he moved from his office to the briefing room, stopping at the threshold to wait for the rest of his team.
"Coming," replied Reid as the four headed up to the briefing room. They were greeted as they entered the room with the sight to their chief Aaron Hotchner sitting at the head of the table with JJ at the opposite end.
"Hey guys," greeted Jennifer Jareau, the team's Communications Liaison. "We've caught a bad one." The furrows of her brows and the frown on her face only added to the upset that could be heard in her voice. As she turned to the screen behind her, the rest of the team moved to sit around the wooden oval table.
"Oh my God," gasped Prentiss in horror as she leafed through the case file in front of her. Even Morgan, Reid, and Rossi were unable to keep the looks of horror and disgust from showing on their faces as they looked at their files. Hotch's grim visage was enough for Prentiss to know that he too had seen the monstrosities in the manila folders.
"All the wounds and dismemberments appeared to have happened antemortem," Reid choked out.
"There has been a series of unexplained gruesome murders in Dumfries, Virginia," started JJ. "Trey Baxter, 29, went missing from his apartment on October 21st. No sign of forced entries." A photo of a fairly handsome white male with green eyes and short-cropped, dark brunette hair appeared on the screen behind her. "Three days later, two large, black trash bags with Trey Baxter's name taped to them appeared in his apartment, which was taped off as a crime scene, by the way. No witnesses and again, no sign of forced entries. Inside those bags were the remains of Trey Baxter." Another photo appeared on the screen, this time of two bloody trash bags that contained the remains of the smiling young man; each had a piece of white printer paper attached to it with the victim's name written in blood.
"Now, given the state of the remains, identification was only possible because the Unsub appears to want us to know who the remains belong to. Aside from the name tags, there was only one perfect finger on top of the bags, and it matches the victim's prints," Hotch continued.
"It says here that his name was written by the second victim, Lauren Abbott." Morgan spoke from his seat at Hotch's left side.
"Yes," answered JJ. "Local PD was able to get a print off of the bloody writing. They thought they'd caught a break until it came back as Lauren Abbott, 24." A photo a young blonde came up on the screen. "Now, at first local PD thought that maybe she wasn't a victim after all since she did disappear from her locked apartment where there were no signs of forced entries on October 23rd, a day before Trey Baxter's remains were found. However, that idea was quickly disregarded when two trash bags containing Lauren Abbott's remains appeared on the 26th." Again a photo with two bloody trash bags, each had a piece of white printer paper attached to it with the victim's name written in blood, appeared on the screen behind JJ.
"And again, identification was only possible because of the name tags and the finger?" asked Rossi from Hotch's right.
"Apparently that's the Unsub's MO, along with no signs of forced entries and the name tags being written in blood by the next victim," Hotch replied.
"Victim #3 is Blake Martin, 27," read Reid from his seat next to Morgan. A photo of a fairly handsome white male with brown eyes and short-cropped, brunette hair popped up in the screen. "Disappeared from his apartment on October 25th; again no signs of forced entries. Only this time, his roommate Hunter Bradley, 28, was killed in his sleep, throat slit, bled to death, when Blake Martin was taken." A picture of a white male with shaggy blonde hair appeared next to that of his roommate followed by a photo of him the night of the murder. There was blood everywhere; his throat slit deep enough that parts of his trachea were visible.
"Whoever this Unsub is, he has no qualm against collateral damage, even if it doesn't threaten his chance of taking a victim," commented Prentiss next to Rossi. "Hunter Bradley was killed simply because he was there. This Unsub is sadistic. He didn't just quickly end Hunter Bradley's life; he left his victim there to bleed to death while he kidnapped Blake Martin."
"Dumfries PD invited us in because of the gruesomeness of these murders, but also because aside from having no leads on the Unsub, they have no idea how he is able to get into secured locations undetected. Blake Martin's and Hunter Bradley's apartment was an active crime scene, yet somehow the Unsub was able to return three days later undetected to leave behind the remains of Blake Martin." JJ brought up once more a photo with two bloody trash bags; this time with Blake Martin's name on them.
"Bloody prints on them belong to Jenna Tomson, 25." A picture of a beautiful girl with honey-golden blonde hair appeared on the screen. "She was taken from her apartment on October 27th. No signs of forced entries. Nothing seemed out of place. Her remains were found this morning by Dumfries PD." Once again a photo of two bloody trash bags appeared on the screen following JJ's statement.
"Jenna Tomson's name was written by Robert Jackson, 28, reported missing from his house yesterday following the death of his wife, Elizabeth Jackson, 27." A portrait of a fair young woman with hair the color of deep burgundy and golden-brown eyes, smiling as she hugged a fairly handsome Caucasian male with short-cropped light brunette hair and hazel eyes appeared on the screen. "Elizabeth Jackson was killed the same way Hunter Bradley was. Throat slit and left to bleed to death while her husband was taken."
A photo of the same carefree woman from before appeared on the screen, except this time, she was lying in a bloody bed. Her white silk nightgown riddled with blood spatters. Her cheerful golden-brown eyes from before now dulled and dead stared aimlessly at the ceiling. The beautifully, horrid blood-red ribbon at her neck was only ruined by the whites of her trachea.
"Whoever did this is pure evil," said Rossi, the disgust and anger in his voice were evident for all to hear.
"That's six bodies in the space of nine days, not counting the missing Robert Jackson," said Morgan. "Why weren't we called in earlier?" he asked, frustrated.
"The first two cases Dumfries PD didn't think were connected because of change in gender of the victims. Their lab also took a while to match the bloody prints to the following victims. The murders of the roommate and the wife were also unexpected so by the time they called us, the body counts had grown greatly," explained Hotch. "Now, look. I know this is bad."
"Now, that's an understatement," inputted Prentiss.
"And it is close to home," continued Hotch. "But we have to keep a clear head going into this. We will handle this like we do any other cases. We look at the crime scenes, the dumpsites, the remains, the victimology, and we build a profile. We will catch this Unsub." Hotch's tone indicated that there would be no discussion about that. They would catch this Unsub no matter what.
AN: So guys, what do you think? This is my first Supernatural X Criminal Minds crossover and my first multi-chapter story so any reviews, comments, and criticisms are welcomed. I DO NOT accept flames however. If you flame, then that means you hate the story, so why on earth would you bother to waste your time reading something you hate in the first place?
Other than that, thank you all for reading this! :)