Unknown- A Criminal Minds Fanfic

Chapter 15- Raindrops

I levelled my gun at the unsub--maybe I'd have a shot if we got Lacey out of the way--and Hotch commanded, "Timothy Adams, drop your weapons!"

"No, you don't understand.  It's not supposed to be her," the frantic man shouted, pressing the blade of the knife closer to Lacey's neck. 

Lacey choked back a sob and whimpered.

"Then let her go," Prentiss said calmly.

The man's hands were shaking, his body rigid in fear as he struggled to control himself.

"It's the wrong one.  What happened to Lydia?" he pleaded for answers.

"You killed her, Timothy," Hotch said, drawing closer to the man and the terrified girl on the ground.

"What?  No," he breathed, unable to believe us.

"Don't you remember?  You followed her to her apartment, and then you branded her and cut her, just like you did to Lacey.  Let us help you and Lacey can live.  You can fix your mistake," Prentiss said, her voice firm but soothing.

He stared in apprehension, but then a ringing clatter rang through the room as he dropped the knife to the ground, his other hand falling limply at his side, the gun dangling loosely from his fingers.

I holstered my gun and then scooped up the knife, carefully extricating the firearm from his hand, and then giving them both to Rossi.  He, JJ, and Reid had come in through the hole Timothy Adams had been trying to escape from once we had him disarmed.  I helped Morgan cuff Timothy Adams and then we lead him through the warehouse and outside, ducking him into the back seat of one of the SUV's.

We all returned to the local police station--they were handling the case from now on--but it was another three hours before we left because we had to process both the warehouse crime scene and the Clarence sisters' apartment and finish up paperwork.  JJ went to visit Lacey in the hospital, the doctors said she'd be fine, at least physically.  The mental scars would probably be worse than the physical scars, though, and those took a lot longer to heal.

For fear of waking up screaming from a nightmare while on the plane, I didn't sleep at all on the two and a half hour ride home.  We got caught in the middle of a thunderstorm that impaired visibility, and since the pilot couldn't see to land, he managed to skirt around it which just made the trip longer.  Rossi didn't seem to handle the turbulence too well, but it didn't bug me all that much, I doubt any other pilot could have flown through, or more so around, a storm any better so there was no point in worrying.

It was almost six when we got back to the BAU, but all of us stayed late to finish up paperwork.  At 10:30 everyone had left besides Hotch judging by the yellow glow coming through his office window, although that wasn't anything unusual.  I decided I might as well get home, we had to be here at eight the next morning and I doubted I'd be getting much sleep the way it was.  I sighed and closed the file I had just finished, tossing it into one of my baskets, and then I scooped up my go bag and grabbed my jacket off the back of my chair, pulling it on before shoving the chair in and clicking off my desk lamp.

I left the bullpen and took the elevator down to the first floor, groaning out loud when I saw that the storm we had passed around was now passing over us.  It was pouring outside, but since I was still paying off student loans, I didn't have much spare cash to spend on a parking pass so I parked in the lot outside, farthest from the building.

Which meant I was running through the rain to my car, getting absolutely soaked since I didn't have an umbrella and my leather jacket didn't have a hood on it.  I crouched next to my car and fumbled in my pocket for my keys, only to pull them out and then drop them on the ground. I swore and scooped them off the wet asphalt, shoving the wet hair plastered to my forehead out of my eyes and then cramming the key into the keyhole and unlocking it.  Yeah, my car was so old it didn't even have a button to unlock it.

Once I got the door open, I tossed my go bag into the passenger seat and then climbed in, jerking the car door shut so it slammed loudly.  I wiggled the keys into the ignition--it stuck sometimes--and then started it up, only to have the engine roar to life and then sputter out.  I turned the key again and it started but then died on me a second time.  I tried a third time but to no avail, and I growled under my breath before getting out of the car and popping the hood.  It was still raining, but I was already soaking wet so it didn't matter.  What did matter was that it was ten thirty at night, pouring rain, my car wouldn't start, and I had no idea how to fix it.

I peered under the hood but all I saw was a bunch of parts, I couldn't even distinguish one from the next, and the dark and rain weren't helping.  I assumed the engine was waterlogged, but aside from letting it dry out for two days, there was nothing I could do.

"Damn it," I muttered and kicked the tire, huffing a sigh before ducking back in my car to grab my cell and call a cab.  I was trying in vain to get a signal when I spotted a set of headlights cutting through the dark, practically blinding me as they shone through the sheet of rain still coming down.  The car belonging to the headlights pulled to a stop at an angle right behind my car, and I was surprised to see Reid get out, an umbrella in hand.

"McDowell?" he called, squinting through the curtain of raindrops and coming over by me. 

He held the umbrella over both of us, finally providing a brief reprieve from the rain that now had all of my clothes sticking to me like a second skin.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked.

"Oh you know, I find the best place to camp is in the parking lot of the FBI when it's down pouring outside," I answered easily.

The corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile but it disappeared just as quickly when he spotted the popped hood on my car.

"Yeah, it won't start and I can't get a signal to call a cab," I explained the situation, noticing his gaze.

"It's late.  I could give you a ride home," he offered immediately.

"No, you don't have to, I can just..." I started making an excuse before realizing I didn't really have any other options, but I was too tired, and wet, to really care anymore.  "All right, thanks," I gave in, shutting the hood of my car and grabbing my keys out of the ignition before slamming the driver's side door closed.

"Apologies if I get your seats all wet," I remarked as I climbed in the passenger seat of Reid's car, but he just shook his head and said it was fine as he got in, pulling the umbrella closed and setting it on the floor of the car before putting it in drive.  His car was probably older than mine, but at least it ran during a storm, though that doesn't mean the ride was any less uncomfortable.