The Cheese Wheel of Doom

Fic: The Judgement

2009-12-29T02:49:05Z

Title: Judgement

Summary: How I would have written “the Tyrant”

Rating: FR-15 for graphic images

AN: this is unbeta'd and on a personal note—has anyone else noticed that the only way Chase actually would have managed to kill Debala is if House was wrong? I mean all he did was fake a test result that guaranteed Debala got treated with what House thought he had. How do we know Debala didn't have it? Just a thought.

<lj-cut text=" I left part of myself buried in that endless nightmare pit">

Foreman, Cameron and Chase were all circled around Cuddy's desk. Cuddy had been talking for a while after handing them the patient files. She was obviously avoiding a sensitive topic about the patient and Chase was flipping through the patient file to determine what it was when he spotted the name at the top of the file. “Debala.” Chase barely spoke above a whisper but everybody stopped mid breath at the amount of emotion in it. The file dropped from Chase's loose fingers and time seemed to freeze for a moment. For one second which drew out for eternity it was like a scene from a western and if House were there he would break the tension with a crack about rattle snakes or tumble weed, but he wasn't there and the tension drew out and Chase broke first. He dashed from the room with the others on his heels.

Instead of waiting for the the elevator Chase dashed down the stairs taking them two or three at a time. He slowed when exiting the stairwell and this gave the others time to catch up. They had just reached the door to Debala's room when they heard Chase speak, “I will not treat you. And I will encourage every doctor in this hospital to not treat you as well.”

Debala stared from the bed eyes clear and hard, “you hate me so much?”

“If I were to responsible for judging you, you would be burning in hell right now, but I am not so arrogant as to assume God's position.”

Debala waved off his entourage that moved to remove Chase from the room. “And what do you judge me guilty of?”

Chase stared, he eyes hard and cold, as if there was no warmth in his soul at all has he stared down at Debala. “A few years ago, after I graduated from medical school I volunteered with the Red Cross-”

“In my country?” Debala interrupted.

“No, your country was too unstable, but on a flight to a new location the plane had a mechanical problem and had to put down. There was a guerrilla force there, probably an accident. They pulled us from the plane. I watch-” Chase's voice hitched and his eyes melted a little before hardening again, “watched as they shot everyone that was on the plane. I managed to get away. I traveled south. I knew that if I could get to South Africa I would be okay.

“I had been walking for days when the stench hit me. It was awful. Overwhelming. It was the stench of hundreds of bodies rotting together.” Chase stared intently, his eyes and voice the only thing that was steady on him as he shook all over. “You can't describe a smell like this. If you tried, you would have to describe it with words like misery, hopelessness or wretchedness. It felt like I was standing there for hours when I hears a faint cry.” Chase stood there some how strong looking despite the shakes and the silent tears that fell unnoticed from his eyes. “It was a 12 year old girl. She had been raped and beaten and tossed into the pit of bodies without being dead. I climbed down into that pit of death and putrid essence and then up a pile of rotting, broken corpses and pulled her broken body to mine and held her as she died of septic shock.” Chase paused and took two deep breaths and leaned in his voice tight and his eyes unblinking. “If there is any kind of God you will spend an entirety climbing that rotted mountain of bodies, because I left part of myself buried in that endless nightmare pit.”

Debala seemed unmoved by the speech even though every other persons eyes at least watered, and Cameron was out right crying with little hiccups. “You do not wish to kill me?”

Chase exhaled, a slow release of air that sounded like tire running flat. “I cannot sit in judgment of you for past crimes. I could only act in the prevention of future crimes.” Chase stood from his stooped over confrontational position and turned to Debala's entourage, “I recommend that you take Debala to his own doctors as I will tell every person who will listen this story in an attempt to form a treatment strike. While I cannot condone killing him, I also cannot consider treating him, nor can I encourage anyone else to do so either.” With that Chase spun on his heel and strode from the room and everyone parted before him, only Cameron reached out a hand to stop, or perhaps join him, but Chase was either blind to it or ignored it. Cuddy was not unmoved from Chase's story which provoked much stronger emotions than simply staring at a two dimensional picture or the flat words of a reporter.

“I think you should follow his advice.”

</lj-cut>

Health Care Reform

2009-08-09T02:33:26Z

Reading a friend's livejournal she had a great idea of sending letters and mail to Congress about health care. Now I've already been doing that, my very republican representative's staff basically recognize my voice at this point. Once I actually had one of them tell to stop calling because it wasn't going to matter. I have been in contact about the health care issue, but I like how this post is organized and it has some great ideas of how to streamline the process, so I recommend everybody read and do what they can.

Auburn said:

</a></b></a>caorann had a pretty nifty idea that I'd love to see take hold and the only way for it to do that is for many of us to take part and that requires finding out about it, so with her permission I'm copying her post here (just in case you don't want to click the link to her post, which is on both LJ and DW.)

I've got to say, I think if enough of us did this -- I'm going with the snail mail, physical object filling up the mail bags and the mail room option -- I think the news media would pick it up eventually.

</a></b></a>caorann says:
I just thought of an idea to create some push back on these crazy anti-health care reform activists. It doesn't involve making signs with swastikas, or shouting at people until you're blue in the face, or making threatening phone calls. There's no need to sink to their level. No, all it requires is some stamps, envelopes, paper and... band-aids.

We're fans. We've all heard and perhaps even been a part of one of those fan campaigns to save a show. I've sent faxes and helped shut down Paramount's phone lines for a day. People have sent peanuts, and hot sauce, and god knows what. Why not do the same with health care reform?

Just start sending senators and representatives band-aids with a short letter telling them that you support health care reform and why. Give them a few details about what you support, like a public option, universal health insurance, etc. If you have one, tell them a story about how the current health care system failed you or someone you care about. Tell them a little bit about yourself, the kind of things that pollsters want to hear- age, education, occupation, as much or as little as you feel comfortable with. Don't forget to put your address and contact info. Then put the letter in the mail with a stamp. Send one to each of your elected officials. If you feel inspired, send one to every member of the committees working on the legislation too. If you really feel ambitious, send one to every member of Congress. There's only 535 of them. It's easy, it's cheap, and I think it would be effective.

I also thought that you could send an email instead, with the same info and a picture of a ban-aid. I looked on the Google but I haven't been able to find any that are in the public domain. Anyone interested in taking a picture of a band-aid? Or maybe 2 band-aids crossed over in an X?

Sending letters and emails serves a purpose. Using a gimmick like a band-aid gives it more punch. People notice things like that. It creates interest, it gets media attention, it makes your letter or email stand out from the thousands that they receive.

The political hacks, cranks and lobbyists have been creating Astroturf movements. Let's create a real grassroots movement. We've done it to save TV shows. We can do it to save millions of people from going bankrupt due to medical bills. We can do it to get millions of uninsured people coverage so they can afford to get the treatment they need. We can do it to get a public option that will push the health insurance companies to treat their customers better. But most importantly, we can do it today before the health care industry manages to kill any chance of creating a better health care system in America.

Further Info:

You can find out who your Rep in the House is here, and then there's a form to write them an email. You can also get their snail mail address on this website. Just click on 'House Directory' to the left after you've found your Rep. You can look them up alphabetically. You can find out who your Senators are here, and it will give you links to their websites.

Committees- The links will take you to Wikipedia pages showing the current members of the committees, complete with links to their Wiki pages showing their districts and web pages.

House Committees- the House has already passed a bill, but their going to have to argue with the Senate over what ends up in the final bill. They need some encouragement.

Ways & Means
Education & Labor
Energy & Commerce

Senate Committees- These are the guys who are really dragging their feet. They're also threatening to get rid of a public option, which would compete with the health insurance companies and force them to lower their rates.

Health, Education, Labor & Pensions (HELP)- No really, it's called that!
Finance

Let me know what you think, and if you do send a letter, please comment here about it. Power to the People!

I really like this idea. I want to make a band-aid cross on my letter and finish with a little motto. We want health care reform that's more than a Band-Aid on the problem!

A new contest post!

2008-12-04T00:01:18Z

So I've been entering these HP Magic Giveaway contests to win some computers instead of rewriting each time I thought I'd go on the record as to what I plan to do with every item and from this point forward who I have entered to win.

I will be graduating this December from the University of Georgia with a degree in science education (and I'm just so darn excited about it!) and about half of the prizes I plan to take to my biology classroom (classes start Jan 7th!) I will be down in Wayne County (South Georgia--practically it's own state considering how very different it is from those liberal NORTHERN counties). Most of South Georgia is really poor, it's basically the armpit of America. It's face meltingly hot in the summer where it's 85% humidity and degrees at three AM. There quite a bit of sulfur down there (making the water taste funny and the air stink--but produces those famous Vidalia onions). But those students deserve a great education too. I don't have worry nearly as much about violence in schools (the school system I substitute in right now has guards with guns in the elementary schools). I think my teaching style would fit in very well down there. A whole of the population (about 60%) make their money from hobby farms which fits with my very...organic teaching style. I used to be a horticulture major and I just love how the knowledge in the classroom translates into the world around us. I want to bring scientific thought and process to every day life.

My second goal in teaching is bring cross-curriculum come hell or high water. Cross-curriculum is tying music, poetry and essays to science. I plan to have a project where each student has to read a science fiction book and do a report that must compare the science in the book with the real science. I also have warm-ups planned everyday and on Wensdays this will be a science poems. Some of the authors are Federico Garcia Lorca, Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, John Haines and George Bradley. I feel so very strongly that the lack of crossover in the subjects makes us more compartmentalized as a culture.

Now about how this prize package would help in my quest of learning and education? Well the HP mini would become the science department's computer used in the field for data collection. There would be a sign up sheet so that all the classes could share the wealth (though I plan to try and be out in the field at least once a week on average). Another laptop will be in my computerless classroom for student use.

I am also very excited about the printer and photo packages. I firmly believe that grades are not the only way to evaluate student progress. Portfolios are a much better way to show student knowledge. The student offers artifacts and reflections on their quest to learn a topic. Pictures are a very important part of this process. They are taken to help show live action artifacts or artifacts that are too big such as insect collections.

My mother (who is retiring and planning to travel) will get one of the laptops, the premium one (she's worth it--trust me). I admit that I really really want the TouchSmart for myself (I have no TV and this sounds like an awesome upgrade to viewing movies on my laptop). I think the student-teacher Microsoft office goes without speaking and the movies will all be donated to Toys for Tots. I would be happy to send pictures of everybody getting their prizes (and my new tricked out classroom!) as proof if I win. Please help me tech my room!

So item by item break down:

Hardware

• HP TouchSmart IQ816 PC Keeping for myself (yes I know I do feel a little guilty)
• HP HDX 18 series Premium Notebook PC Giving to momma (she really, really is worth it)
• HP MediaSmart Connect Going to my new school
• HP Pavilion dv4 series Entertainment Notebook PC (with Windows Live) going to my sister (who will give me her current laptop for my classroom)
• HP Mini 1000 (with XP) going to my classroom for field work

Accessories

• HP Photosmart C6380 Wireless AIO (printer) Classroom (yeah!)
• HP 564 Photo Value Pak Classroom (double yay!)

Software

• Microsoft Windows Vista Ultimate/Home Premium or Microsoft Windows XP pre-installed on all units (Mini 1000 runs XP) Classroom
• Microsoft Office Home and Student Edition 2007 (Student-Teacher Edition) – 1 DVD with 3 licenses say it with me--classroom
• Microsoft Windows Live classroom
• Corel VideoStudio X2 the classroom (woot woot!)

Entertainment

• Kung Fu Panda (2 widescreen DVDs; 1 widescreen Blu-ray disc) Okay I have to admit I'm not sure where I'd give this maybe the local library?

So this entry is especially for:

http://www.mooshinindy.com/

and

http://jk9.qlnk.net/ #glmagic

and

http://www.techiediva.com/category/featured/

and

www.merlotmom.com.

Still entering computer contests

2008-12-03T19:40:20Z

<a href=”http://www.jakeludington.com/life/2008/official-hp-magic-giveaway-announcement/”>Jake Ludington’s HP Magic Giveaway</a>

yep that's the one

Etsy

2008-12-01T15:52:05Z

Found treasure!

This site is super cool! It's like ebay but for the crafter!

I have my own shop at www.goddessofknitting.etsy.com

For any crafter out there is an awesome site to visit. Go and check it out!

Poem The Physics of Love

2008-11-24T01:02:13Z

The Physics of Love

Love is stronger than Strong Force
        (you can't let it go a nanometer)
The smallest separation is cataclysmically huge

Love reaches father than any gravity well
        (can't escape from orbit)
Pulling stronger than ant black hole
        (everything melded into dense hot matter moving as one)
Farther reaching than any star
        (incandecent)

Love is electromagnetic
        (even as we draw together sparks fly)
Love generates it's own field
        (moves more than iron hearts)

Love is never weak
        (but it can weaken)
Love is the simplest of maths
        (but some how incalculable)

1 + 1 = i
       (imaginary number; real love)
me + you
       (and the strongest force in the Universe)

Really Good Weekend

2008-11-17T01:11:17Z

I'm not sure how this weekend will get any better. I obtained some fantastic yarn (SWS wool/soy silk) for a $1.50 a skein. A DOLLAR FIFTY A SKEIN!!!! I made my first sale on Etsy (I've only had my shop open three or four days) --- Oh oh side note: I now have a shop open at Etsy www.goddessofknitting.etsy.com where I am selling handknit items, fiber parphinalia, and beaded items-- I sold a spinning kit, which is just too cool. Making money and sharing the joy of fiber! Bwh ha ha ha! Then I got this great deal on Jojo harmony yarn $13 dollars three skeins, with shipping! Woot woot!

Now, now I have a job interview, for a permenate teaching position! Oh yes. This the way it is meant to be! Obama will be President, job prospect is looking good and I will be knitting, knitting, knitting for the coming Christmas. All is right with the world! Loves to all!

Barack Obama's Campaign (How I learned to Relax and love politics)

2008-11-04T01:33:06Z

I consider myself a nice person and a good Christian. I am not a very traditional Christian, but I feel very spiritual and often listen to my heart (in which God lives) to guide my path. Like all religious people I can slip off my chosen path, and in the recent political climate it is quite easy to become angry and bitter, especially with a president who does not reflect even the most basic of my beliefs. I found myself screaming myself horse at a man who claimed I was a “baby killer” because I am democratic. I will not lie, I do not like McCain, and I cannot imagine what I will do if he gets elected, but I have become tired of being angry and upset. This came to a head as I watched one of Obama's speeches. He mentioned McCain and one of his policies, everyone booed, instead of lapping it up and encouraging it, instead he calmed everyone down, “now, now, we don't need to do that, we just need to vote.” This, this was an Epiphany, capital E. If this man who is getting harangued more than I ever could, and did not want to turn to anger or negative campaigning, then why could I not do the same?

I was no longer against McCain (though I still dislike him greatly) I was for Obama. When I talked to people I did not talk about what I did not like about McCain (everything) but what excited me about Obama. As the days passed I continued my new outlook and found myself relaxing. Life wasn't about how bad it would be if McCain won, but how great it would be if Obama did. I volunteered more, my whole day tomorrow from 5am to 8 pm is devoted to this election. Obama changed the way I view the world, and the way America should look at politics. I do not know if he affected anyone else in this way, but I can walk away from this campaign with a light heart knowing that I took the higher path, and was better off for it.

I hope that everyone out there takes the time to vote (no matter who) and that you walk away from the voting booth as light-hearted and happy as I.

Poem: A Rare Fair Weather Day

2008-08-23T20:00:52Z

A Rare Fair Weather Day

A sudden spring breeze,
that cool blast of air,
this summer day is beautiful and fair.

Where did the summer sun fly
for these low lying clouds that fill the sky.

We must celebrate now, this beautiful day,
for soon the southern sun will chase it away.

There is no more time for poetry, only for play.
So come out now and join me, I say!

Fic: Five Doctors House Never Interviewed 1/1

2007-12-09T16:48:51Z

Title: Five Doctors House Never Interviewed

Spoilers: None

Rating: PG

Characters: House various crossover characters

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.

<lj-cut text ="House never did like doing interviews">

Dr. John Carter

House eyed the svelte dark haired doctor with the huge honker of a nose and finally decided that the blather was through. The small talk, the 'I became a doctor to save people', the 'I want to learn of the best' fawning. Okay so the last part was true in the fact that he was the best but really he didn't need anyone to point that out to him. So House interrupted him, not that he'd been listening anyway. “Cut the bullshit, why do you really want this job?”

House watched with glee as the man, Jack Crater or some other equally boring name floundered for a second before he seemed to collect himself. “The truth is Dr. House, I want this job because, well because two and half years ago I was stabbed at work by one of my patients. I got addicted to painkillers after that, but I finally got my act together and have been clean for five months. I just, I needed a clean break from my old job and my family. Really - dealing with a manipulative old man who also just happens to be the best diagnostician in the country is just a bonus.”

“The world.”

“Pardon?”

“You said the best diagnostician in the country but it's best diagnostician in the world.”

“Well since this country is part of the world my statement is still true.”

House nodded, “I concede the point. However I'm still not hiring you.” Crater opened his mouth to protest but House cut him off, “If you think that it's because you were addicted to painkillers, then well, you’re mistaken. After all, that would be hypocritical of me.” House pulled out his Vicoden and took a few, mostly for the drama, also mmmhh bitter. “No, I'm not hiring you because you cleaned yourself up. And NA's and AA's are notorious for their attempts to convert the unfaithful.” House shook his head sadly, “No I'm afraid that I just can't have your holier than thou's face around me. Sorry, you'll just have to find a new Daddy replacement. Next!”

Dr. Mark Sloan

House watched as a white haired older gentleman with a stupid grin plastered all over his face walked in. House hated him instantly. House was known for disliking people for just generally existing, but never had he felt such hatred garnered so instantaneously. It was possibly the fun, bouncing air of a amateur magician, or the grandfatherly kindness that he seemed to radiate, or no, no it was definitely his stupid, stupid bowtie. Really, honestly who wears a bow tie these days?

“Hi there.” God his voice was like grating glass on his nerves, “I'm here for the interview.”

“Alright then. There's only one thing I really need to know, c'mon a bowtie? No one wears a bowtie anymore. You look like a clown!”

Okay so not his best work, but hopefully enough to send this man running for the hills, but House watched in shock, as Grandfather Doctor just chuckled at him. Chuckled. At. Him. God. Then, then he actually pulled a fake red clown nose from his pockets. Jesus! He probably visits the Peds ward to entertain the poor dying chemo kids. Surprisingly the red nose somehow managed to detract from the annoyingness that surrounded the man. “I have been known to play a clown for the kids sometimes.” Then he started rambling about some thing...that - does this - frankly House wasn't paying attention, but he couldn't look away either, it was like a damn elderly train wreck.

Somehow the octogenarian doctor seemed to pick up on his uninvolvement and for the first time in the interview frowned, “Shouldn’t you be asking more pointed questions for your article?”

The question seemed to jump start his brain and he finally clicked on the fact that this man had just wasted 20 minutes of his life. Did he even look like a newspaper reporter? Well enough of this, “OUT!!!! Get out! Right Now! Out!” House prodded him with the cane when he didn't start moving fast enough. Damn geriatric doctors.

Dr. Janet Frasier

"Why?"

"Why what?" The woman was petite but from the no nonsense sort of expression used to dealing with unruly patients.

"Why do you a fellowship? Your CV reads like a gift from God. You could get an attending position anywhere, so my question to you is why?"

The petite doctor drew herself up to her considerably short stature and frowned in such a way that reminded House of how he imagined McGonagall, not that he would ever admit to reading Harry Potter. "Well, I'm a damn find doctor if that's what you are trying to hint around, but then we both know it isn't. I could tell you something like I'm looking for a change of pace, but that would be a lie." She seemed to deflate a bit, just a sigh of air but her larger than life persona seemed to disappear entirely and she looked so much smaller than before. When her eyes opened House recognized the look in them. A look he had seen in the eyes of some of his father's friends. The look of someone who had seen war. But there was no mention of that in her CV. When she spoke her voice was missing the steel that it had previously, all it contained now was tiredness. "The truth is, I'm tired. I'm tired of death, of emergency, of making all the hard decisions. I want to spend more time with my daughter, I want someone else to help bear the burden of patient care. I want this fellowship."

"No."

"No?"

"No. Go get yourself a nice partnership in a private practice. I can't imagine what you were doing before that would make this job be a step down but if you want to give up the adrenaline junkie lifestyle, this isn't the job for you."

Dr Robert Chase (Dr. Sam Beckett)

"Is Ziggy sure about this? All I have to do is interview with this House guy?"

"Noooo." Al drawled, "Ziggy says you have to interview with this House guy and get the job. 85% chance."

"Okay." Sam steeled himself, looked in the mirror and was shocked. "Jesus! How old is this kid? He looks like he's fourteen! And his sense of fashion is terrible!"

"Ever since that jump into a supermodel...his shirt looks fine..."Al trailed off and finally let out a huff of air and settled. "His name is Robert Chase. He's 24. Specialty is Intensive Care. Oh. Oh. His father is some big shot doctor. A rhum-rhuma-rhumatologist. What the heck is a rhumatologist?"

Sam stared intensely into the bathroom mirror, absent mindly he responded to Al's question, "a rhumatologist is a doctor that studies the immune system." Sam traced the outline of his face in the mirror and muttered quietly to himself, "who are you Dr. Robert Chase?"

Sam turned from the mirror. "So when is this interview?"

Al punched a few buttons, and his eyes widened momentarily, "two minutes! Jesus! Quick Sam!" Al hurriedly called up the schematics for the hospital and started to direct Sam with the fastest way to House's office. Sam had no problem keeping up or running the three flights of stairs. *Man this body is fit!* Somehow Sam managed to skid to a stop in front of House's office with no time to spare. Composing himself Sam poked his head in around the door, "Dr. House?"

The older man behind the desk didn't even look up from his Game boy. "If you can't read the name on the door then this interview is over."

Sam grimaced, so this wasn't quite what he had in mind. "No I could read the door, but just because someone's name is on the door doesn't mean that the person behind it matches, though there is a better than average odds that it does."

"Well you better than average odds has payed off. So," Dr. House spins around and tosses his Gameboy off to the side. Mockingly he asks, "Why should I hire you?"

Oh God. Sam just had no idea how to answer this. What could he say the truth? 'Oh you need to hire me because if you don't it will change the face of the future for the worse.' Sam glanced around the office, TV, games, balls, toys, it was an office that was littered with attention getters. "Because," Sam winced, "because I'm not boring?" God couldn't he show a little more confidence?

"Prove it." The old man's eyes glittered, shining with glee at his school yard prompt.

"uhh," Sam turned and walked further into the room and wandered around to buy time. Picking up a Rubix cube he wandered over and sat down ideally playing with it.

House sighed and seemed to lose a bit of interest. "Your father called me."

"So?" Safe answers Sam. Boring answers. He winced internally.

"It was about whether or not I should hire you."

"I didn't ask him for a recommendation." Sam crossed his mental fingers with hope

"Well it'd be even worse if you did. He told me not to hire you."

Sam glanced up at Al who was looking over the desk for some kind of help. Al looked up and shrugged helplessly.

Sam sighed, how was he suppose to fix this. "Look. If you want to hire great, if not then I'll just go." Sam tossed him the Rubix cube. "But frankly you don't strike me as the kind of person who lets other people dictate their actions." Sam got up stiffly and started out the door, mental fingers crossed.

House stared down thoughtfully at the completed Rubix cube. House watched as Chase walked out. He did have a very fine ass. Well he could always fire him later. He'd call tomorrow or actually later tonight if one still counted 3 am as today and tell Chase about being hired.

</lj-cut>

Fic: Finding God 1/1

2007-11-18T18:55:55Z

Title: Finding God 1/1
Author: Goddess_of_7s
Summary: Missing scene from “Lucky” not really any spoilers though.
Rating: G
AN: This takes place where the episode left off. If I missed something really important about Reid's beliefs at the beginning of the episode I'm sorry but Mom was attempting to burn the house down.

It was quiet on the plane. The kind of quiet that occurs at 4 am. The kind of quiet where words are spoken softly but heard by all. The kind of quiet where secrets are safely spoken of. When Morgan spoke it didn't break this spell, for when the words are uttered correctly, carefully and with fondness, then all continues on as it did before. If less people were drowsing less heavily, well the stillness still existed for all that. “Spencer?” Morgan questions again, just as softly, but this time Spencer rouses and when he answers it is just as soft and careful.

“Yes?”

“When you were a kid did you worship God, did you go to church?”

Reid blinked, eyes round and soft, all pupil in the quiet, darkened cabin. “It depends on your definition of worship, and of church.”

Even though Morgan's tone didn't change and his face was shadowed heavily, the questioning note was there in his voice, “what do you mean?”

This speaks strongly of that power that 4 am holds, for Reid who speaks little of himself or his family, who hides behind statistics and averages though he is neither, spoke honestly and unguarded. “Church when I was growing up was found in Proust, Emerson, Carlyle, Dickinson. God was a whispered word that was found between the pages of Swann's Way at 2 o'clock on a Sunday afternoon. Worship was chanted poems from Tulips and Chimneys . Hands were soft and rustle of pages turning, our prayers. God was found and lost so easily in those days.”

The silence was heavy as Morgan thought about this, as he really listened to what Reid was saying. Finally he spoke. “If that was were you found God, then where did you find the Devil, because to believe in one...” Morgan's voice trailed off no need to finish quoting Reid to himself.

“Oh the Devil was there too.” Reid says this in the casual way that most people would mention a friend. “He was easy to find at 6 am when the night was just winding down. The Devil was there in the searching of wall studs for listening devices. He laughed at the screaming that followed the fits and the mania. He watched the scissors flash around my face just as closely as I did.” Reid tugged on a loose piece of overly-long hair. “Why do you think I always let my hair grow so long before cutting it?” Reid laughs a little, a queer sort of laugh that is neither dry nor straight forward, but more the kind where you only find something funny because you must to ward away other feelings. “No I was lucky; I learned early on that God and the Devil co-exist. In all things they are together, even in us.”

Reid shook his head back and forth, “it doesn't sound very religious when I say it like that, but it's there and you don't even really have to look very far. I mean after all we found God in a book just like everyone else and I didn't even have to seek the Devil out, he always comes of his own volition. Just like every other religion it's much easier to remember the times that the Devil was there then the times when God was.”

The plane was quiet after that and the magic of 4 am continued indefinitely but ended right after.

Fic: Rebuilding the World Live Free or Die Hard fanfic 1/3

2007-09-29T04:30:56Z

Title: Act 1 Rebuilding the World
Summary: Live Free or Die Hard might have ended for Gabriel, but it was just the beginning for everyone else.
Warnings: Mentions child abuse, rape, violence and cussing
Rating: R
AN: This is about as graphic as it gets. There will be no graphic sex scenes, Matt will not be getting together with Lucy. Holly and John will not be getting together but neither am I going to ignore 20+ years of relationship that lies between them. Matt/John UST will be reached at some point in the future. It will not be graphic or over done. Their relationship is not the point of the story.

Everything felt closed, finished done. The country was saved, the bad guy was dead, the good guys were working on their sexy scars. Everything looked to be getting back to normal, that was until they reached the edge of the city. The roads were a mess. The pace of the ambulances slowed to a crawl as they sedately weaved through the abandoned cars that littered the road like something out of those Apocalypse movies. Neither of the arriving heroes were aware of this though.

Matt ended up somewhere between drugged unconsciousness and passed out asleep; John resisted the drugs at first but relented under the stare of the paramedic when Lucy wasn't looking. He wasn't quite passed out but he was comfortably numb and couldn't be bothered to do more than stare at the ceiling of the ambulance even when he felt the deceleration once they reached the edge of the city. Lucy however was in full control of her faculties and was willing to use them. She didn't see any need to hover over her Dad, who judging from his dazed expression had finally stopped being a 'manly' man and taken some painkillers. He was such alpha male, frankly she was just thankful that he hadn't started pissing around her to mark his territory and shit. Lucy stared out the back window at the waste land that was there. It looked like something out of a movie, one of those end of the world socio-economic collapse kinda movies that wasn't suppose to be how the world really was. The kinda movie that was just a fantasy, an idea of what could happen, but it was never suppose to occur. It was never suppose to be real.

The ambulance slowed to a stop. "Hey!? What gives? We aren't at the hospital yet!"

"Close as it gets, 'bout a half a mile from here, we can be there in no time if we really hoof it."

"Oh."

The other paramedic started to pack things up and John stirred at the noise and change in motion. The rocking momentum of the ambulance had lulled him mostly to sleep but with the motion ceased and noise of the doors opening he roused, "Lucy?" It had a slurred sort of broken apart sound as if John could only concentrate on pronouncing one syllable at a time

"It's okay Daddy, there's just a bit a walk to the hospital. But your getting a ride there, lazy bones." There was fond affection in the words and John couldn't remember the last time one of the women in his life used it with him. He just hoped that the morphine wouldn't erase it, after all it might take another almost Armageddon for it to happen again.

"Ye-ah that's all I get, lip. Save the country, save you, shoot myself, still I get no respect."

"Daaa-ad, don't go all Rodney Dangerfield on me. And thought you didn't want anyone to know about you shooting yourself?"

John looked around the ambulance but deemed it too much trouble and fell back with a groan. "Dad! Jeeze! We all know your a big macho man, and if these paramedics hadn't forced those drugs on you that you would have walked the whole way to the hospital and carried me there as well. Now lay back and let these nice men take care of everything." Lucy glanced outside of the open ambulance and spotted the second ambulance with police escort. Having seen all the destruction that had been wrought Lucy could tell that they had really gotten the royal treatment. With the power out gas was limited and there was chaos all over the Eastern sea board. Power was already up all over the West coast and in the Central US but that was because the power hub was shut down so it was just a matter of flipping a switch but the Eastern hub was non-existent and with all the other chaos that had been occurring several of the major cities had suffered from looting.

With everything that had happened, the fact was that they got two ambulances and a police escort, it might as well been a limo with a motorcade. "Dad, I'm going to see how Matt's doing. Be nice. Don't shoot anyone." Lucy paused in her descent as a thought struck her. "Don't shoot yourself either."

Lucy heard his weakly muttered ha-ha but she didn't bother to respond. After all she was the one that could walk away. The back of the other ambulance was just as chaotic as the theirs was. Matt was being unloaded and he hadn't even budged. Lucy winced at the thug of the gurny's back wheels hit the pavement. Lucy watched worriedly as Matt didn't even wince. "Is he okay? He didn't even twitch."

The paramedic glanced back, "yeah he's okay, lost a little too much blood, he's a bit of a light weight, that morphine we gave him seemed to really knock him out, at least for a while. He had some kind of fit or nightmare, we had to sedate him on top of it. A bomb could go off next to his head now and he wouldn't even blink."

"Okay. So we're heading out soon?" Lucy looked around at the lifeless streets, filled with abandoned cars some of which were on fire. "This is just way too creepy and I can't wait to get out of here."

"Yeah." The two paramedics lined up next to Matt's gurney. Lucy glanced back at the bag's lined up next to ambulance and shouldered two of them.

She walked over to where John was laying and glanced back at the paramedics, "well what are you waiting for? Let's go!"

The walk there just made everything seem more depressing. She just couldn't wait to get to the damn hospital. Unfortunately they heard the hospital before they actually saw it. There was a mob of people flooded into the ER and flooded out into the streets around it. The paramedic in the front (Lucy thought his name was Chuck but it was so uninspired that she had been thinking of him as Indian Elvis because he resembled that guy from Scrubs) was having no luck in clearing the way. It seemed that the fact that they had even a ounce of medical experience made them doctors. Lucy watched as more and more of the mob turned to face them. They looked like they were eyeing up a piece of meat. Indian Elvis was going down and it looked like the red-headed woman was fixing to go down too. For a second Lucy thought she saw pitchforks and torches and for the first time felt for the Monster. Well they were going to get in there. Lucy looked back at their police escort who looked like he was all of 12. They must have tapped him while he was still in training. Once again it looked like the stronger sex was going to have to step forward.

Lucy raised her arm in the air and waved it around. "If you people don't get the fuck out of our away then I will shoot!" Even at her loudest she still couldn't talk over the canopy. She screamed and fired the gun in the air. Everyone finally stopped and looked. "We have two people here that have been shot and if you people don't get out of the way then I think I will be forced to increase the number." Everyone was staring blankly. "If you don't get out of the way I'm going to shoot you." The anger and exasperation seemed to convince them and a small corridor formed where they could walk through. The paramedics were staring in shock and the Dougy Houser of the police looked on in awe as was only right. She did kick ass after all.

The inside of the hospital was only slightly less chaotic than the outside. The paramedics seemed to collect themselves and started to lead them somewhere, Lucy supposed that it was all about the chaos you know. As bad as the streets had looked, barren and lifeless, seeing the people was that much worse. The halls were filled with them, over flowing out of beds and chairs and some were even laying about in the halls. Lucy supposed that no one really cared about fire hazards at this point. The hospital was one of the few places that had electricity, but Lucy wasn't sure how long that was going to last. The generator was only going to last so long and none of the gas pumps were working without electricity. She just couldn't understand the purpose of this, what would make someone want to hurt so many people. There just didn't seem to be a good reason for any of it.

They ended up in outside a room that seemed too crowded and Lucy wasn't sure how they were suppose to fit in there but they didn't seem to be going any further. A harried woman that didn't look like she had slept in the last week came out and Indian Elvis pulled her aside and spoke for a few minutes. From the continued glances in their direction Lucy knew the conversation was about them, the startled look that crossed Harried Woman's face told Lucy that she had either just been informed that the patients were genuine heroes or that John had shot himself. Lucy was hoping that it was the former rather than the latter. Normally she wasn't one to push position but anything that would help out her father was worth a shot. Matt was just a bonus, she really didn't know him but he had saved her life, so she could spare a little hope for him as well.

Finally something seemed to be happening but she wasn't sure where they were going next. Dad and Matt both seemed too stable to warrant much attention, even if they were heroes. They ended up in a room that didn't look like a regular room at all, there were beds with people sacked out in scrubs but they didn't seem to be injured, just exhausted. That was when Lucy realized that it was the "on-call" room. It might not be the best equipped room in hospital (at least it wasn't the janitor's closet) but she didn't think they would lack from assistants if there was a sudden problem. She watched a bit in shock as a cart was wheeled in and they seemed to prep for minor surgery right there. Lucy knew that she wasn't going to able to stay, she might be a tough sonofabitch when it came to certain things, but seeing needles in flesh just freaked her out. She took the high road and slipped out to find a bathroom.

She took her time and even managed to rinse her hair free from the blood. It wasn't a shower but it felt damn good anyway. She didn't want to walk in on someone getting stitches so she wandered around a bit to see if there was a working phone. If her mom was at her house then she might be able to use a land line to reach her. She knew there was no chance that the cell phones were working yet, but the hard lines might be okay. Lucy would never mock her mother for being so analog if it came up again.

She waited in line for an hour until she finally forced some ditzie woman to stop calling the same number. Didn't that woman know that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result? Lucy decided that she would take one chance and that was it. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and while she didn't pray to a specific person she sent good vibes out into the cosmos. Her friend, Heaven, was always talking about how visualization leads to actualization. She dropped in the coins and dialed quickly without hesitation. She felt like she would explode when the phone started ringing. Two, three, four, five, oh God, seven, "Hello? Lucy is that you?"

"Oh thank God! Mom I was so scared."

"Oh Sweetie are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah Mom I'm okay. I'm here in New Jersey with Dad, he got shot."

"Again?"

"Yeah well it's a long story."

Lucy heard a beep to indicate she was nearing the end of her time. She frantically searched for another coin but to no avail. "Mom it's really bad out here. Stay at the house and when Dad gets released we'll come to you."

"Okay. Okay Lucy. I love you."

"I love you too." Beep beep. Shit. She had to hurry, "Oh and Mom Matt may come with--"

"Lucy? Lucy? Damn. Who's Matt? And why is he coming?” Molly looked at the dead phone and sighed, “Shit, I hope Lucy isn't planning on bringing the guy she's dating here because one of them is going to end up dead with John around."

*******

When Lucy got back to the room John and Matt had both been cleaned up and stitched up. John looked so much worse with the stark white bandages and criss-crossed stitches. Without the dirt to cover up the bruises he looked fragile and delicate. Lucy never thought the word delicate would ever applies to her father. When she thought of him getting old, she thought crotchety or persnickety, not this, never had she imagined this.

Matt didn't look much better, he was more pale but less bruised. Both were wearing scrub bottoms and a hospital gown. Neither stirred as she took up a chair beside them. She wasn't sure how long she sat there before before one of those creepy agent people showed up. He kinda looked like that Middle Eastern correspondent from the Daily Show. She had started to think of him as Asoef. "What do you want?"

He didn't seem bother by her words or her tone as he flopped bonelessly in an empty chair beside her, which was minor miracle in and of itself. "There is not much I can do now. They're trying to rig a few smaller hubs to get the electricity up and going, but before that happens I'm at loose ends." He paused and looked thoughtfully at John. "They really don't make people like that anymore."

The harried woman that Lucy had left her Dad with came back and looked just as harried as before. "Oh good. Here's the deal. Normally I'd like to keep them both here for at least overnight but we don't have the room or personnel." She handed them two paper bags with the words 'old dude' inscribed on one and 'young guy' written on the other. "I've included directions for drug use. What to do if something happens, fever, torn stitches, and so on. Once their IV is finished they are going to have to go."

"Are you serious? You're going to kick them out?"

"I'm sorry but they have someone to take care of them. The hospital is full of people that can't take care of themselves or they don't have someone to take care of them. They have you, so you all have to go. You have about a half hour."

Lucy watched as Harried Doctor rushed back out, standing there numbly holding the paper bags, she felt like the world was spinning around her, her head was over flowing with information, she was so damn tired. First stuck in the damn elevator then held hostage, almost shot and covered in all kinda of crap. She didn't know how much more she could take. Honestly would anyone blame her if she took just a few moments to have a minor breakdown? But then she looked down at her Dad, who never broke down and always ran all out and then ran some more until the bad guy was down and she pulled that McClane strength buried inside, steeled herself and turned to Asoef. "So how much pull have you got?"

***

Turned out Asoef had enough because two hours later she was pulling into her Mom's driveway with Matt passed out in the back seat and her father drowsing in the front. Honking the horn quickly she turned around to rouse Matt. "C'mon! You've been asleep for like ever!"

Lucy shook Matt's shoulder more viciously and he finally started to rouse. "Huh? What? We'erd we go?"

"We're at my Mom's."

"Mom's?" Matt blinked slowly, is head turning a bit as if to confirm that statement. "'oesn't make any sense. Mom's dead."

"No, my Mom you dork. God you are so out of it."

"Oh, wellll that's okay then."

Lucy leaned forward and honked the horn quickly again. "So Dad you think you can make it under your own power or do you think you need some help."

John who had been happily resting in the front seat and quietly dreading moving sighed and finally started to heave himself up just as Holly exited the house. "Oh God, John, Jesus look at you! and Lucy what in the world happened to you?" Holly eyed her disheveled daughter up and down.

"Mom it's a long story, but could you help me with Matt? He's really out of it."

"Oh, okay, honey." between the two of them they were able to get Matt out of the back seat and upright in about the time it took John to shuffle half way to the house.

"So is this the guy you've been dating?"

"Mo-om."

"Well I have a right to know."

Lucy rolled her eyes, "no Mom I just met him."

"You're bringing home a guy you just met?"

"Technically Dad is bringing home a guy he just met. Matt was with Dad and he doesn't have any family in the area we had to help him."

Matt seemed to rouse a bit with his name, "help who?"

Lucy replied, "oh don't you worry about that you just hang on."

"Mmmhmm. Yeah, okay." Lucy and Holly practically carried Matt up the steps and as the were walking him toward the couch he seemed to lose whatever strength he had because he just became limp as a noodle, all of his weight was resting on their shoulders.

"Ooooofh." They managed to heft Matt onto the couch and lay his limbs in a somewhat normal angle.

John followed behind them and eased himself into a reclining chair. "Boy Holly and I ever glad that you got this chair in the divorce. I don't think I have it in me to climb the stairs to the guest bedroom."

"Yeah well somehow I got the feeling that you would in up in it again some how. You always do manage to find the trouble."

"Yeah I always do."

All the traveling from the cars and the hospital really worn them all out and Lucy hadn't slept at all so even thought Holly was dying for some answers she waited and let everyone sleep. They weren't going anywhere so she would know eventually.

It was several hours before John roused but Holly managed to have food waiting. It wasn't easy with the power out the refrigerator and freezer were down and for some reason the gas stove wasn't working but it didn't run off electricity so she wasn't sure what was going on there, but she managed to cook some hot dogs over a fire she had made in the fire place. When John did finally wake up he was starving so while he ate half a pack of hot dogs he told Holly all about what happened. Picking up Matt, the Firesale, the bad guys, Lucy, shooting himself and oh the fighter plane he took out. He knew he was in for it from the look on Holly's face, endangering their daughter like that.

He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable, but when nothing happened he opened them again to see Holly standing there next to him. "God John, you could've died." Biting her lip and looking pensive Holly leans down hugs him and and whispers in John's ear, "if you ever get our daughter hurt I will hunt you down and make you wish the bad guys won." Holly sat back up, "but I'm glad that you're okay." She looks at the shoulder in a sling, "well as okay as these things ever turn out for you."

John looked up at Holly's face, a face with new lines that he didn't recognize, gray hair that wasn't there before and it just drove it all home, this wasn't his Holly. But then she smiled, and her eyes crinkled in the corners and the age fell away from her face and suddenly she was someone he recognized again, someone that he had loved. He felt so over-whelmed, God he hated this part of saving the day. He never knew what to do with himself afterward. He always ended up too strung out emotionally, in pain, and usually getting at least a few minutes reprieve from whatever woman he was fighting with. Even John being one of the most Neanderthal men around could tell by looking at Holly's face that he was supposed to say something here, but hell if he knew what. "Holly I-"

Matt had the most stupendous timing ever because he groaned and rolled over half falling off the couch to the floor with a screech of pain. Holly rushed over trying to prevent Matt from falling even further as Matt attempted to pull himself back up. "Careful there sweetie."

Holly reached out to steady him but Matt flinched back, "Jesus, where the hell am I?" Matt winced and reached for his leg, eyes wide and frightened. "Where's Gabriel? Who are you?"

"Hey chill out kid. It's cool Gabriel is toast."

"What? McClane is that you?"

"Yeah. Yeah kid it's me. And you can trust me on that Gabriel thing."

"Yeah." Matt relaxed and let Holly help him back up onto the couch. "Yeah, okay." Holly fussed over Matt, spreading a blanket out and smoothing his hair down.

"You rest and I'll get you something to eat."

Matt watched her leave and fingered the blanket. "She does know that it's July doesn't she?"

John looked over at Matt who was bundled up and looking a little flush. "Yeah, Kid she knows."

"Okay so long as we're clear."

Holly came bustling back in, carrying a tray of food. "Here you go dear." She set the tray down and felt his forehead. "Hmm you're a little warm. Poor dear." John and Matt exchanged bemused looks over the top of her head.

****

The next three days passed in a drugged blur for both John and Matt. Life didn't seem anymore difficult or unusual except for their injuries. That was a different matter for Holly and Lucy. John Jr. had joined the service right out of high school and Holly worried about him endlessly. The power wasn't back on and everything else seemed to be run on it. The water was still out, the gas was gone still and the only reason they were still functioning as well as they were was because Holly had her share of emergency experiences and once things started to really go south she had managed to stop up all the sinks and bathtubs and filled them with water. She had no idea that it would be this long without water and hadn't been as sparing with in the beginning as she should have been.

As undignified as it was they were left with digging a latrine outside. It was difficult getting Matt out there, but he wasn't eating much so once a day was about all that was necessary. Holly had hated those camping trips that John had always managed to drag them on every few years but now she felt thankful for some of the skills it had provided.

She was trying to figure out what exactly they were going to do when the last sink full of water was gone when she heard a weird gurgling in the bathroom. Rushing in she realized that the toilet tank was refilling. Holly's heart fluttered with relief. The water was coming on! She rushed into the kitchen and turned on the tap. The piped groaned and the water came in spurts as the air was cleared, but honest to God flowing water! First thing she did was shower. The water was cold but by God! Clean, fresh, it was amazing! She pulled a fresh towel out of the closet and inhaled enjoying a luxury that she hadn't even realize she had until this Firesale had happened. She woke Lucy and had her jump in the shower while she re-stoppered the sinks, flushed the toilets and prepared just in case. Half the day was gone before she realized it. It was no easy thing getting Matt and John cleaned up while keeping the important parts dry. They all sat around afterward in the living room awake and wallowing in being clean and dry for the first time in over a week. Holly knew that she should be more worried about food, especially since Matt and John were staying awake longer and eating more, but with the worry of water relieved for now she felt like she could take on anything.

*****

Now that Matt was no longer sleeping the sleep of the well drugged nightmares had surfaced. John wasn't that surprised he'd had nightmares for a long time after Nakatomi. John wasn't comfortable with that emotional bullshit, but Matt was a good kid and as much as the father in John squirmed at the sight of his daughter comforting Matt, he swallowed it down. It was this younger generation, they were so much more in touch with their feelings. John couldn't imagine ever crying on Holly's shoulder like Matt did so freely with Lucy. John didn't really sense anything between them but friendship. But he still watched just in case. Most of the time they followed a pretty regular pattern. Matt started to flail and cry Lucy came in and woke him. Matt would wake up disoriented and crying harder, distressed in a way that John hadn't witnessed the entire time they were together and on the run. Matt would calm and orient himself, pulling away, looking shameful. Lucy never pushed him. Until now. "Matt is this about what Gabriel said in the van?"

*flashback*

Lucy watched in fear as her father fell further and further away from the truck as he was distracted by the Jet.

she turned back and watched Gabriel with wary eyes. But he was not in truth interested in her. No, all of his attention was focused on Matt. His eyes were so cold and calculating. Lucy wouldn't admit it, but she was really scared and while she knew Matt was terrified but he was holding up better than she had expected. She was prepared to kick up a fuss if it looked like they were going to kill him, all she would need to do is stall because she knew her father and he was one of the toughest sons of bitches around and something as little as an attack jet wouldn't be able to take him down.

As long as Gabriel was content to talk Lucy was content to let him.

"Now Mattie, I can call you Mattie right?"

"Well actually I prefer Matth-" Gabriel pressed a gun to Matt's leg, "well, yeah, okay, Mattie's fine."

"Good. Now Mattie, I've read up on you and I know that you'll give me what I want."

"Why do you sa-say that?"

"Oh come now, Mattie," Gabriel waved a hand around the van, "we're all friends here Mattie." Gabriel smiled but his eyes were cold. Lucy watched as Matt flinched with every repetition of 'Mattie' something was going on, something kind of second conversation going on underneath the words spoken and she wasn't part of it. "Why don't you tell us a story Mattie? Maybe that little incident when you were nine."

"Well I umm, sprained my ankle after a bad fall off my bike. And there was this time where I blew-"

"Now, now Mattie," Gabriel pressed the gun into Matt's side hard. "Let's be honest here. You know what incident I'm talking about and I think we'd all be interested in knowing how you survived." Gabriel didn't even bother with a mask of civility anymore, he whole face was a deadly sort of calm and Lucy knew that he would not hesitate to hurt either of them.

"Okay, okay. I umm I lost my Dad when I six and my my mom took it kinda hard, started taking up with all sorts of guys and-" Gabriel growled and leaned forward as if to say get to the point. Something in Matt must have reached a breaking point because when he spoke Lucy heard the more anger in his voice than fear. "Hey! You want the story I'm giving you the damn story and it starts here." Gabriel sat back seemingly satisfied and Matt continued, "so I was introduced to what sex was when I was young and caught my mom going at with her new boyfriend on the kitchen table. When I saw Frankie for the first time I was in the basement of some house. I couldn't remember how I got there and was still disoriented from the drugs. I managed to stumble to the door and eased it open. There was Frankie and he, he had a little kid with him, I knew, I um knew what was going on because of my mom, and that kid was just screaming and thrashing all over, Frankie just looked so mad and I watched as he ra-raped and strangled that kid." Lucy listened with growing horror to Matt's story. She'd always heard about and been warned about pedophiles and rapists but it was one of those things that was never real for her, they were just something on the evening news, it wasn't something that happened to people she knew.

"Later Frankie came in and explained the rules. The first day was Rules day where Frankie told what was expected of me, there was no touching on Rules Day. Second day was clothes day. There was touching on clothes day, but the clothes were left on. The third day was Everything day. By the time Everything day came around I had a plan." Lucy leaned closer to Matt, his voice had gotten so whispery and Lucy was sure that this was the part where Matt managed to escape. "I had checked everything there was no way out of that basement so I knew what I had to do."

"What?" Gabriel whispered, "what did you do?"

Matt looked up eyes, red rimmed, cheeks pale with a weak stubble, "I gave him what he wanted. I didn't struggle, I didn't scream I just lay there and took it. And when he finished I looked him in the eye and said," Matt stumbled a bit over the word and seemed to fade into himself even as he kept his eyes on Gabriel's gun. "I looked him in the eyes and told him I loved him.” Matt rushed after that, everything before was slowly said, as if to try and avoid this moment, but now that it had been reached Matt seemed to feel the need to defend himself, defend his actions. “After all isn't everyone, deep down just looking for someone to love them?"

"See, Mattie I knew that you could give me what I want, I knew how far you would go to survive."

Matt laughed, it was dry and brittle like it could break apart even in his throat. But there was steel in his eyes when he looked up, "Your mistake Gabriel is assuming the situations are the same. I gave up whole pieces of myself to stay alive, but here and now? You're demanding whole pieces of a country and that isn't mine to give away. I can't give it away."

Gabriel's eyes turned cold and jovial smile disappeared, "you will give me what I want, make no mistake about that."

*end flashback*

John didn't know what they were talking about but from the look on Matt's face Lucy had pushed a button. Lucy cradled Matt's hands in hers. "What he said, what you said, was it, was it true? I mean how did he know that stuff?"

Matt was looking away from Lucy but John could see his red-rimmed eyes and watched as Matt worried his lip.

"I don't know, there was a trial. I'm sure that they looked up everything they could find on me before they hired me. Gabriel doesn't strike me as the kind of person who doesn't research every detail to an anal retentive degree. I guess that when I didn't die as planned he pulled out those files. Gabriel was going to get what he wanted and didn't care who he was going to step on to get there."

"Yeah." John didn't know what had happened in that van while he was taking down a jet, but since it didn't seem to involve Lucy directly John managed to contain his curiosity As upset as Lucy looked, Matt definitely looked worse and John couldn't be mad at him. The bastard that did all this was dead so he could take comfort in that. Lucy pulled Matt into a hug and Matt didn't even put up a token protest, "You're a lot stronger than I gave you credit for when we first met,” she whispered in Matt's ear.

*****

It had been over two weeks since the beginning of the fire sale. The water continued to flow, but the state of everything else was about the same. Matt had been spending his waking hours taking apart a couple radios and something else. Holly really didn't know what he was hoping to accomplish but it kept him busy and with his bum leg it wasn't much use in any of the outdoor work. At least the toilets were working and there was no more latrine duty needed. Holly was about to consider a way into town and find out if there were any food banks or if money was working again when she heard a crackling sort of sound in the living room.

She wandered in carrying her dish towel and a wet dish to dry when she heard the crackling of a radio and staticy voice responding. There was Matt, his leg propped on the coffee table and the guts of several machines around them and jury-rigged machine in front of him. "Who is that?"

Matt looked up his eyes shining with excitement, "It's the Warlock! He's okay!"

"You contacted your friend?" Holly's excitement faded into a confused disappointment.

Matt flushed a bit and looked away, "sorry, I um, it's just he really helped us out and I wanted to make sure he was okay. And well he was fixin' to give me the details about what is going on out in the city."

"Okay well we really need to know about food. We're really low."

"Uh yeah, no problem." Matt pressed a comm that looked like it was originally been a head set and static crackled to life. "Hey, Warlock what's going on in the city with food? We're running out up here."

"Yeah, there's some kind of food bank, but there's still a lot rubble. The looting was really bad at first but the National Guard is out here now and it's not so bad."

"Yeah? What's the location closest to umm?" Matt glanced at Holly who mouthed their location to Matt who relayed it to Freddie.

"Well the closest one is about 15 miles. But you should try and reach someone on the radio. You guys are bona fided heroes and I suspect that you will be able to get some food from some where. There's some chatter on the emergency channel they're getting the power back up in pieces, major things like water processing and pumping was first and the natural gas is the next priority so that people can cook."

"How long is the clean up estimate?"

"Months! Dude they think another six weeks until they have enough temporary sub stations to power the Northeast adequately. They've managed to get power to certain areas, the water pumping plants, hospitals, that kinda thing but residents have been right out. It's incredible, I'm even off line! No gas for the generators, only thing we got right now is the solar panels so I've been using sunlight. But shit, that's barely enough to heat the water and run the microwave."

"Yeah well right now we're cooking over a fire so I feel no pity. I don't know how charged these batteries are do you have any channels for the government stuff? I should talk to something about food, I don't know how'd we would get 15 miles, the tank is about dry on the cars we have."

"Yeah. Okay Dude, this is what I got."

It took Matt longer than he thought to find someone who knew who he was and more importantly who John was. Finally Matt was able to reach someone who could help and a convoy that was taking food to Red Cross center they would be passing less than a mile away and while they wouldn't divert but were willing to stop and give them supplies.

John and Lucy went, John for credibility and Lucy to help carry everything. They had enough supplies now to last the next few weeks and Matt managed to hook up a hand crank and could run the radio without batteries. He had almost finished his latest project which was building a connection to charge a large battery. He had gotten the idea from Soylent Green. Not the whole people eating thing *ewww* but the bicycle that the people used to help produce power was not bad at all. Matt had scavenged a car battery and managed to hook it up to the microwave so that they could do some basic cooking or to the radio if necessary. Soon the bicycle hook up will be ready and they will have a way to recharge the battery and also hook it up to the microwave itself.

It was well into August and Matt didn't know with the advent of global climate change was going to affect the weather this year as warmer or colder. Last year was unseasonably warm but they were predicting unusually cold for the coming season from a shift El Nino. They had also managed to contact someone about John Jr who was apparently fine and deployed out west helping with some of the chaos generated there.

Matt could tell that John was getting antsy. John was well on the way to being healed and the cop in him wanted to be out there helping to clean up the mess. So far the chaos that prevented John from contacting the precinct had helped keep him home but now that things felt calmer John wanted out there. Matt stayed in contact with the Warlock and was worried about raiders but they had remained unscathed so far. Matt was hoping that John's baser instincts would keep him in the area until the power was at least restored. Matt had to admit that of all of them John had transitioned into the life of wood chopping and cold showers better than any of them, even with his bum shoulder.

Matt was putting the finishing touches on his recharging system when the doorbell rang. Neighbors of Hollie's had come by occasionally to request help or ask if they wanted to come with on a convoy to the city. Matt could tell that most of them didn't have the first clue about how to survive and were lost on a lot of things. Most didn't even know how to start a fire or cook the dried beans that FEMA had been handing out.

Matt just figured it was something like that so he was surprised when he opened the door and was looking at Agent Bowman "Oh, uh, Hi?" Matt wasn't sure how to respond to the agent's presence. Surely they hadn't tracked him down to arrest him at this point, right?

"Hello Matt. Can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure come on in." Matt held the door for him and then limped in slowly after him.

"How's the leg?"

"What? Oh, yeah the leg, it's you know fine really. Well it hurts sometimes, but I was lucky you know. Pretty clean hit, no bone or tendon damage, it was like a one in a thousand shot."

"Where's McClane?"

"Oh they went out, gather wood, set some snares in the back woods half a mile from here. They all went, but with my limp I woulda just slowed them down." Matt decided that he wasn't about to be arrested so he was relatively safe at this point and he settled back next to the bicycle and started to tinker again. He had hoped to have it finished before they got back and having Agent Bowman show up wasn't going to change things if he could help it. Matt picked up a screw driver, "so what are you here for?"

"Well, I actually came to talk to John, and I thought he would know where you were didn't think you would actually be here."

"Yeah well, after the hospital kicked us out Lucy pretty much hijacked both of us and we woke up here. With my apartment blown up and the gas tanks dry I was pretty much stranded. No one's complained, I've managed to pull my own weight."

"Yeah, what is that you're building?"

"Oh well when it's finished we'll be able to attach it to the car battery and re-charge it. We've been using that battery to power the microwave, the washer, that kinda thing. So after John told you where I was what were you going to ask me?"

"Well, the President wants to put a public face on the re-building effort, your face, McClane's face. We're offering you jobs."

***********

It was a sweet deal really. They were starting to return electricity to regular service in parts of the Northeast and the chaos was finally starting to get under control. There was work of course but the money was good. There was going to be a lot of public appearances, which involved shaving and looking decent but honestly considering the fact that they were going to provided him a room to stay in and he was going to help pick up the electronic pieces of what happened it was great for his karma. Matt could honestly say that John was not as pleased with the job. Unfortunately John was the one that really didn't have a choice. "Damn monkey suits! Do they honestly think this is a good use of our time? What is wearing a damn tux gonna do to help America?"

Matt honestly didn't feel obligated to respond but rather busy getting the tv up and running. Satisfied he sat back on his heels and turned the tv onto a station from Oregon. John's ranting was stopped as he was distracted by the news crew that was reporting from New York. "How in the world are you picking up a station from Oregon?"

Matt just tossed a 'who do you think I am?' look over his shoulder and John seemed to pick up on it but focused on the news as they started to survey the area. with a chopper. "Jesus." The screen was filled with images that looked like something that John had seen from Bosnia or some other war torn country. "Jesus." John said mostly because it beared repeating.

"Woah. Wait. Quiet, did you hear that?"

"What?"

"Shhh!" Matt turned up the sound and John listened as the news reporter did a voice over. "The power is suppose to be up for residents in the next two or three days. One of the problems faced in the re-building effort is the fact that most of the prisons in the area failed and now to complicate the re-building was the looting and they are now faced with having to round up all those escaped convicts again once the prisons are back up and running. Right now with the break down in the whole Northeast anyone caught committing a crime or a suspected escaped prisoner are shipped to the South where they are processed and temporarily jailed until they can be tried. They estimate that some 10,000 convicts are still on the loose-" Matt turned off the tv.

"Hey! What was that for?"

Matt's voice was flat and emotionless. "It was draining the battery." John watched Matt's eyes go blank and watched Matt as he limped out. John didn't say anything he suspected that it had something to do with the conversation that he had overheard the other night.

Lucy walked in and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "What's with Matt?"

"I dunno we got the TV on and the news was talking about escaped convicts and he just went all quiet and upset." John didn't feel bad about his little innocent act, he'd interrogated enough suspects to know some of the more subtle ways to get information. That little lead in would probably yield information of some kind.

Sure enough Lucy's eyes widened and she whispered in a shocked sort of gasp, "Frankie."

apologies to all (and some politics)

2007-06-26T01:32:43Z

Very and Truly Sorry

For everyone that actually reads my journal I'm sorry for not posting recently. Unfortunately I injured my back and fell behind in my classes. I've not had a chance to breath let alone write. My summer secession ends at the beginning of Aug. so hopefully I'll be able to make some inroads on Chasing Ghosts and Far Too Human. Hopefully no one will be too mad, and that my lovely beta will welcome me back with open arms.

The Road to Freedom is Paved with Gravel

The political scene has never really been for me, but I sure like Mike Gravel as a candidate. I actually feel like campaigning. Weird. The guy is totally for gay rights, the fair tax, education reform, ending the Iraq War, pro-environment and pro-choice and perhaps the biggest plate form stance... is the fact that he's for Democratic reform. That means that he thinks all of America should vote on our major laws so that we are truly democratic. That pretty much means that I'm pro Gravel.

Socio-Economic Collapse of Society

I've been saying that there will be a socio-economic collapse in the future (not like those cardboard toting hobos I mean in a few years but still...) anyway here's this fantastic article Clusterfuck Nation by Jim Kunstler This is actually keyed up to my comment, but just scroll up for the whole article.

Sorry again to everyone.

Fic: Far Too Human 5/?

2007-02-16T13:25:45Z

Well! Here we are. Finally getting somewhere! Who else is excited? This part is for jadesfire2808 who met, very aptly I might add, my Fic Challenge of DOOM, Doom, doom!

Title: Far Too Human 5/?
Summary: Fall out from Revelations. What exactly happened to Spencer, and where does he go from there?
Spoilers: The Big Game, Revelations, LDSK, basically every episode.
AN: I was watching Stir of Echos. Thinking about Reid and this is what happened.
AN2: I'm starting this three months in. That means that the next part should be happening right after Revelations, sorry that's just the way it works. Suck it up.
AN3: Things might seem a bit disjointed. That's on purpose. Not exactly from Reid's perspective, but to try and give you a picture of what's happening to him.
AN4: Big big thanks to Marilea! Who has attempted to bludgeon into my head comma usage.

Special AN: For those of you confused to the time frame we are about three weeks from the time of Revelations.

Gideon wished that Reid's first case back could be something a little softer. No case the BAU pulled was ever easy, but child sodomy and murder was never easy and never pretty. Reid was a lot better than the last time he was on the plane, though. The bruises were almost completely faded and he only had a small air brace on his foot as a reminder of the trauma that he had endured. However Reid, was hell bent on showing everyone that he was at the top of his game. Gideon noticed though that Reid's eyes would flick to an empty spot on the plane for just a brief second before returning to the case files, but they always returned to that spot.

“Do you think he'll be okay?”

Gideon tore his eyes away from Reid and up to Hotch's grim countenance. “I think that we can only wait and see at this point.” Gideon turned back and caught sight of Reid glancing at that corner again. “Lots of seeing.”

0o0

Gideon and Prentiss went straight to the latest crime scene and the rest of the team went straight to the police headquarters and morgue. Reid stared down at what used to be Barbra Johnson. Reid could almost hear her talking – little snatches of nursery rhymes and giggles so real that he starts to look around before he realizes his mistake.

The sheriff of the town comes in. “Mrs. Johnson is here.”

Morgan and Reid exchange brief glances over the body and head out following the sheriff.

Mrs. Johnson was one of those fierce petite women that always seem so much bigger than they actually are.

“What are you doing to find my daughter's killer?”

“Mrs. Johnson, we're doing everything in our power to find him. We need your help; walk us through what happened.”

Mrs. Johnson fell solidly into a chair, breaking into quite tears. “It—it was a regular day. We had breakfast, went to the park, worked on her science project, watched some TV and she went to bed around 8:30. Sh-she begged to stay up just a few more minutes but I insisted.”

“Mrs. Johnson, did you notice any strangers or anyone showing undue attention to Barbra?”

“No,” she shakes her vehemently, “nothing. God, this is all my fault.” She slumps forward, defeated and sobbing.

Morgan is about to lean down and offer a little comfort to her when Reid sits cautiously next to her, his hand gentle and light on her shoulder. “Mrs. Johnson, you aren't to blame. Bo wouldn't want this for you.”

Mrs. Johnson freezes in mid-sob and turns, her eyes staring out from beneath her fringe of hair. “What did you say?”

What confidence Reid had fled at the look in Mrs. Johnson's eyes. He hesitantly stammers, “th-that it's not your fault?”

“No, you called her Bo. I'm the only one that calls her Bo. How could you know that?”

“I-I,” Reid's eyes wander the room looking for answers, a distraction, anything to put the right words in his mouth - but then there might not be right words. “Um… 67% of children go by a nick name rather than their given name.” Everyone's eyes were still on him, but the incredulous air about them dissipated a little bit with his stammering explanation.

Fortunately further explanations weren't necessary because Prentiss and Gideon showed up from the crime scene and wanted to conference right away.

0o0

“The unsub is a white male, age 25-40. He's intelligent but in a low-wage job. He feels under appreciated. He's extremely confident. He takes these children right from their home; this is very high risk. He drives an older car, sedan-”

“Cadillac.” Hotch turned and looked at Reid who seemed unaware that he had just blurted out what type of car the unsub drives. “Powder blue Cadillac. It was his mother's.”

One of the officer's snorts, “care to give us the plate numbers as well?”

Reid doesn't seem to be paying attention, his unfocused. “JX 4730.”

The room froze. Reid seemed to jerk out of whatever trance he was lost in and glanced around at the people frozen in their seats. Thinking quickly, Reid blurts out, “I must have seen the car on the way in and just now connected it to the killer.”

The team didn't seem to buy what Reid said but they quickly snapped out orders to find that car.

0o0

Hotch and Gideon were there standing around after capturing and arresting of Frankie Penter, the owner of the former Daisy Penter's Cadillac. They were in fact staring at said Cadillac – which had a flat tire and had clearly had it for at least a day - the dew was still pooled in a rubber fold. Gideon and Hotch exchanged a look, but neither said anything. Truthfully neither could think of a single thing to say. Both knew, however that the state of the car would not be making it into any written report. No one wanted their names associated with Reid’s claim of having seen the car on the way in.

0o0

Morgan just couldn't be bothered to invest a lot of thought into his gin hand. Even though Reid was apparently two states away he was still winning, and Morgan had every confidence that even if he was at the top of his game Reid would still be winning.

“Hey - Reid.”

“Hummm?” Reid shuffled his hand.

“That call, with the car, that was slick.”

Reid's eyes flicker up, but don't meet Morgan's. “I told you that I was just remembering that car from seeing it earlier.”

“So you said.” Morgan's tone doesn't imply much faith in the statement. “Doesn't mean it wasn't slick.” This is said with the utmost confidence and belief. Reid's lips curl behind his cards and Morgan can see the edges of his smile. Reid doesn't feel quite so far away.

All Hail the Great Jadesfire!

2007-02-15T22:19:20Z

Yes! Tis true! Someone as accepted and met my great and terrible Fic Challenge of DOOM Doom doom!!!! The great jadesfire2808 had written this story Over the Wine. Not only does it meet all the requirements (hefty indeed) she does it very well. Plus she apperantely can't decide on her prize, so you guys should read it, review it, and make a recommendation.

Link to jadesfire2808 LJ

Fic: Arghhh! Me Maties! 1/1

2007-02-15T04:56:07Z

Okay seriously, this is a weird fic...and umm kinda stupid. That being said writing it I laughed so hard I cried, so hopefully you guys will find it funny too.

Title: Arghhh! Me Maties!
Summary: Umm yeah if you haven't guessed—it's a pirate fic.
Rating: PG
AN: You must go to this you tube site and watch the video of MGG as a pirate. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t51BTUyFVHA (note the video is rated R for language)
AN2: This is the site about the Flying Spaghetti Monster-- http://www.venganza.org/

Morgan rolled into work ten minutes late and feeling pretty good. His step was bouncing with the tell-tale shimmy of someone who got some. Glancing around to see if anyone noticed his late entry his eyes fell on Reid. Or more accurately—Reid's hat. Reid's giant Pirate...hat. His step noticeably less bouncy Morgan wandered over and took in the stuffed parrot, eye patch and hook with a sort of shocked recognition of the items. Even as he watched Reid typed quickly with one hand and was ...pecking at the keyboard with his ...hook.

“Arrgh! Me matey! Ye Look to have gotten mighty luscious booty last night!”

“What?” Morgan started checking for any cameras that might be hidden.

“Arrgh!”

“Would you stop with the arrghs? Seriously, man, it's way too late for April Fools, and Halloween is still a month away!”

“Arrgh tis true! But today be much greater than any mere All Hollow's Eve! Today tis be...International Talk Like a Pirate Day...Arrgh!”

“You rented a costume for International Talk Like a Pirate Day?”

“No. Tis be my own clothes!”

“C'mon, you can't be serious!”

“You Scurvy swine! Ye callin' me a lier?” Reid brandished his hook and Morgan smiled a bit at the teasing glint in Reid's eyes.

“Well, where'd you get the parrot then?”

Reid reached up an stroked the said parrot, “tis my one true friend, Petey.”

“You mean Polly?”

“Polly be a wenches name! Petey tis all Pirate.” Reid discretely pressed a wing, and a mechanical voice, tinny and thin goes, “Scurvy scum! Scrub the decks!”

Morgan shook his head, man Reid could certainly be a trip sometimes. He was about to wander off in search of Hotch just to see his face when he spotted Reid and then Prentis showed up. Sporting an eye patch and a puffy shirt.

“Nice to see a fellow Pastfariean.” She said, catching sight of Reid.

“Arrgh. Tis true. When did ye first feel the touch of his Noodly appendage?”

“Tis been many years now.”

“Today we shall feast and bask in the warmth of 'Tis sauce!”

“Ramen!”

Reid threw an arm over Prentis's shoulder, “Come me wench, Garcia has mighty grog for all ye who follow His Noodliness, the Flying Spaghetti Monster.”

Morgan watched the two walking away and shook his head, no wonder all the other departments thought the BAU was weird.

Fic: Far Too Human 4/?

2007-02-14T05:37:46Z

So is anyone watching that new show Shark? 'Cause I totally had a fic idea and tried to track down a LJ or an archive that housed some Shark stuff. Couldn't find a thing! Maybe I'm a pioneer in the Shark fandom! How cool would that be? Anyway if some one has some information to add please feel free. On the Lortabs note, there's like different levels, I remember my dad would take Lortabs 3 and 5. He used to say that Lortabs 3 were so weak that he could have them on toast for breakfast. I don't mention the strength of the Lortabs, because I'm not a doctor and I don't prescribe drugs, but I can tell you that my Dad had tons of medical problems and like ten medication and the fact that he could have Lortabs seems to me that they aren't too interactive with others and they have to be pretty gentle on the liver since his was shot. BTW Sorry this part is so short.

Title: Far Too Human 3/?
Summary: Fall out from Revelations. What exactly happened to Spencer, and where does he go from there?
Spoilers: The Big Game, Revelations, LDSK, basically every episode.
AN: I was watching Stir of Echos. Thinking about Reid and this is what happened.
AN2: I'm starting this three months in. That means that the next part should be happening right after Revelations, sorry that's just the way it works. Suck it up.
AN3: Things might seem a bit disjointed. That's on purpose. Not exactly from Reid's perspective, but to try and give you a picture of what's happening to him.

The days passed far too quickly. Reid slept and slept and slept. Gideon worried about the fact that Reid only spent a few hours awake a day. Jason knew that sleep could be signs of deep depression, lack of coping, escapism, but sometimes sleep is a sign of needing rest. The problem, Gideon mused, is knowing which is what. With profiling, if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck and walks like a duck then it's usually a goose. That's what this felt like - a goose chase. It was easy to worry about Reid; besides the sleeping constantly Reid also seemed disconnected with reality. Twice more Reid had slipped and called Jason Tobias. Part of Reid was still trapped in that shack - and Gideon didn't know how to free him.

Gideon stood in the doorway to Reid's bedroom. Gideon had left for a few hours to get things from his place and pick up some food, and Reid didn't look like he had moved an inch. Gideon knew that some things took time, but he didn't have a lot left. Soon Gideon would be recalled back to duty; a few days of psych and he'd be back in the field, he was too valuable too not be. His last brush with PTSD proved that. Gideon knew that he needed to start pushing Reid to talk, to do more than rest, but he also knew what careful footing they were on.

Jason jumped, startled, as a sudden beep echoed in the room. Reid didn't even stir. Gideon cast one last worried look at Reid as he walked out into the living room to answer his beeper. “Hotch?”

“No. He's asleep.”

“So soon? I haven't even been to the department shrink.” Gideon lets out an explosive sigh. “I just… I'm worried about Reid, he's really only sleeping and eating; the few hours he's up he doesn't talk...”

“I know his body is recovering, but something seems off about the whole thing.” Gideon rubs his head wearily and once again the thought that he's getting too old for this job enters his head. “Yeah. Okay I'll be there in twenty.”

Gideon packed his stuff and called a cab. The only thing left is to wake Reid and tell him. Not sure what will happen while he's gone, Gideon has an Ensure in hand as well; forcing some kind of sustenance into Reid before he leaves can only be a good thing. “Reid, Reid, c'mon now.”

Reid opens one bleary eye and stares at Gideon, “g' 'way… sleepin'… ”

“Yes, I can see that, but I have to go into the office.” Gideon hesitates a bit at saying this, leaving Reid behind already. “There's a new case, we're suppose to head out in a few minutes. I'll call and let you know where we're going. You have a follow-up doctor's appointment in two days at 9:30; I marked it in your calendar. Before I go I want you to drink this Ensure.” Reid gave him a baleful look and Gideon sighed softly, bribing him with, “after you drink it I'll give you the Lortabs.” Reid grimaced in distaste but drank the chalky liquid surprisingly quickly.

Gideon frowned but handed Reid the pills; he quickly swallowed them and leaned back, eyes closed. “Look, Reid, if there's an emergency, a problem, or you just need to talk… then please call me. Anytime.” The seriousness shines from Gideon's eyes, but even as Reid nods and vows to, they both know that he won't.

0o0

Two weeks passed seemingly without any effort at all. Gideon barely realized that it had been two weeks. Time blends together out in the field; three days without sleep can feel like one with a sudden crash that eats an additional day. Then there was clearing himself with Dr. Bernard, the team's psychiatrist. Now, after all that, Gideon found himself in front of Reid's apartment door. Gideon was unsure of the reason, but he was filled with a sort of foreboding. The door swung open slowly and Gideon looked around the “normal-if-a-little-cluttered” apartment. He really couldn't explain what was so frightening about the apartment, but his heart was pounding and his hands itched to have his gun in them. Opening the bedroom door he found it empty, but he could hear faint singing in the background. Sliding closer, heart hammering, he could slowly make out the words:

“Singin' in the rain
Just singin' in the rain.
What a glorious feelin'.
I'm happy again.
I'm laughin' at clouds
So dark up above.
The sun's in my heart
And I'm ready for love.”

Gideon stood there listening to Reid sing in the shower and he couldn't, just couldn't, think of why his heart was still pounding and his mouth was so dry despite the steam in the air. The singing suddenly stopped and he couldn't tell but it sounded like Reid was talking to someone. Then Reid's voice rose and Gideon could clearly hear over the shower, “Gideon? Hey! I'm –um—almost done, so umm… if you want to call for Chinese or something....”

“Okay, Spencer.”

Gideon paused on the way out, and he knew it was impossible but he could swear that he heard Reid saying “..he's cool...nah, don't worry...” Then the singing resumed.

0o0

Two more weeks passed, and Gideon no longer felt like he was going to climb out of his skin when he was at Reid's apartment. But there was still a disconcerting air about the place. Reid had been going to Dr Bernard, who was already talking about clearing him. Gideon knew that that was no guarantee that Reid really was ready. Gideon had no doubt that Reid could fool ninety percent of the psychiatrists in the country drugged and half asleep.

Still, Reid was back at the office, the bruises were fading, the crutches were gone. Reid was spending more time in his head than usual, but he was there and everyone was happy to see him. The upper levels were pressuring Gideon and Hotch to get Reid back in the field and Gideon could understand why. Getting Reid in the field allowed 5 trained profilers who knew him better than any regular psychiatrist ever could to monitor Reid's mental state. Gideon could see all the good points in Reid going back into the field, but he still felt uneasy with the idea. Unfortunately you don't keep someone out of the field with a mark in their permanent file with just a feeling.

Heather's Fic Challenge of DOOM Doom doom.....

2007-02-12T01:58:45Z

So I know there is a few dedicated people that actually read my lj (holy crap!) and I really don't know how many of you are writers, but I decided to post this challenge here anyway and I suppose that if someone actually manages the thing then they should get a prize. So....um.. how 'bout the person that writes the story gets to pick the next story I work on. Doesn't matter how old the story is. Who ever posts first gets first priority and so on. If you can manage two stories you can have two parts.....

Heather's Word challenge of DOOM Doom doom...

So I have way too much time on my hands at work so I made a list of words that I enjoy saying out loud. My challenge to you write a story that includes all these words. I've included some additional information for some that I think are rather unusual and not common knowledge.

Footle (old English for goofing off, messing around)
amniocentesis
svelte
Edvard (name)
sticky
kurfurckle (a flock of kiwi, like a murder of crows)
sassafras (a plant in the mint family root beer is made from it)
perishable
ubiquitous
serendipity
fortuitous
persnickety
cantankerous
scuppernongs (grape native to Georgia the gold form are muskadines)
abide
jaunty
poultry fetish (must be a phrase)
vexed
awry

Even if no one write a story with these (perhaps I will) you can still enjoy these wonderful words.

Fic: Far Too Human 3/?

2007-02-11T03:13:53Z

Hey. So I love writing this, can't wait for some of the more fun stuff (i.e. The craaaazzzy part) but I also have a evlo. Test and several projects due, so who knows. The feedback has been totally awesome. It really helps to keep me going!

Title: Far Too Human 3/?
Summary: Fall out from Revelations. What exactly happened to Spencer, and where does he go from there?
Spoilers: The Big Game, Revelations, LDSK, basically every episode.
AN: I was watching Stir of Echos. Thinking about Reid and this is what happened.
AN2: I'm starting this three months in. That means that the next part should be happening right after Revelations, sorry that's just the way it works. Suck it up.
AN3: Things might seem a bit disjointed. That's on purpose. Not exactly from Reid's perspective, but to try and give you a picture of what's happening to him.

Hotch stared down at Reid, who was curled tight, hands twitching; restless even in sleep. “How in the world did you get them to release Reid?”

Gideon stood next to Hotch, face lined and arms crossed. “There's very little chance of drug problems at this point, his foot is set, and I convinced them that coming down off those drugs after being held and beaten that he would do much better if he was with us and out of the hospital.” Gideon didn't mention certain things explicitly, but neither had problems imagining Reid waking screaming and fighting, being held down, eyes wide with fright as they forced four point restraints on him. The fact that Gideon managed to get Reid released so quickly managed to gain him back some of Reid's lost trust.

Leaving the hospital helped. Reid had relaxed some as soon as they were out of sight of the hospital. Gideon was loath to find out what exactly in Reid's past that made him hate them so much. Moving away, Gideon lowered himself with a sigh into one of the chairs. He was so weary. Reid had seen it before, at the first scene. Gideon had contemplated retirement several times before. This was the longest that he'd really considered it; usually they were passing flights of fancy after a particularly trying case. Gideon knew that he couldn't leave yet, he had to make sure that Reid was back on his feet, coping – whole. But part of him, most of him if he was honest, was burdened with a deep weariness and all he wanted was to rest, at least for a little while.

0o0

“It isn't usually like this, on the flights, is it?” Garcia looked tired and a little disappointed.

“No.” Morgan shook his head. “It isn't usually like this.” No matter how dark or dirty or close to home the case was, the atmosphere had never been this dark, this depressed before. A pall hung over the plane, and the team. The days of lighthearted banter and cards seemed a lifetime ago. Morgan rested a hand on Garcia's arm; whether it was for her benefit or his he couldn't tell.

0o0

The entire team was on stand down for at least a week. Everyone was getting psych evals and being assessed. Reid was guaranteed at being off for at least two weeks. Usually with an injury an agent wouldn't be allowed out in the field, but considering the unusual circumstances once Reid was cleared from psych Gideon planned on using him in a consulting role. He knew that Reid would go nuts being left behind, doing nothing. Gideon had pulled the consultant angle before. Reid would have to stay at the office, but it better than being left totally out of the loop for two months. Gideon had a momentary pause. Could he really be so confident about Reid's recovery? Reid was a brilliant young man. He remembered those words, what happened after Dowd. Reid always appeared to be the weakest member of the team but some how he just kept bouncing back up after each knock down. Gideon pushed his doubts away. No, Reid was strong; he'd bounce back this time too. But in the back of his mind, a small part of Gideon whispered - “How many times can Reid bounce back?”

0o0

Morgan had driven Gideon and Reid over to Reid's place. Gideon was grateful for his help; without him, Gideon doubted that he could have managed Reid's lax form quite so easily. Gideon had tried to wake Spencer once they arrived, but he'd had the limp bonelessness of a cat and was so sleep warm that 7Gideon and Morgan just draped Reid’s arms over their shoulders.

Gideon had slid in next to Reid in the back seat. It was easier than trying to untangle themselves. Reid had curled up next to and on him like a cat seeking warmth. The jittery movements that had followed Reid into sleep seemed to disappear, which is how Gideon and Reid found themselves laying asleep on Reid's bed. After Morgan helped them up the stairs, they'd walked Reid into his bedroom and helped him down onto his bed. Reid had ended up pulling Gideon down with him, curling tight. Gideon glanced up at Morgan who didn't seem bothered by it and said softly, “thank you. I'll get myself untangled; could you just lock the door when you leave?” Morgan nodded and after retrieving their bags from the car, Gideon heard the door clink shut quietly and he relaxed minutely. Both Morgan and Gideon knew there was nothing sexual about this, but people, particularly in law enforcement, could be very harsh on anything with a hint of homosexual tension.

0o0

Reid drifted awake softly, the slow kind of awakening where your mind's awareness precedes your body's. Reid was laying there, warm, muscles so limp, comfortable. If it wasn't for the sudden pressure of his bladder he would be content to continue lying their forever, half awake. Instead, he started to stretch. And suddenly his body is awake and all he can feel is pain. A gnawing ache in his belly, pounding hammers in his head, and it felt like someone had chopped his foot off. He opened his eyes and glanced down quickly, checking to make sure he wasn't bleeding. He didn't see any blood but rather an air cast, but more shocking was the fact that there were four feet. Male feet, too, judging by the shoes. Pains momentarily forgotten, or more accurately pushed to a back burner, Reid followed the legs upward with his eyes and realized that part of that warmth that had felt so great was coming from the fact that Jason Gideon was in his bed. Not exactly scrambling, since his body was too stiff and too sore to allow that, Reid still managed to get upright and away from Gideon without managing to wake Gideon or do too much damage to his own body. He did have to stifle a few groans, but overall he was in pretty good shape; of course once he was away from Gideon and less panicked everything that had happened came flooding back. Tobias, Raphael, the torture, the drugs—the next thing he knew he was heaving in front of the toilet. Nothing much came out but the pain from his chest was excruciating. Tears streamed down his face even as the dry heaves racked his body again. Suddenly there was a hand on his back, gentle and soothing.

“Tobias?” Reid's voice is weak and hoarse.

The hand paused momentarily, but then resumed it's steady pace. “No, Reid, it's Jason.”
shaking slowed and finally stopped. When Reid pulled away, they both ignored the wetness on his cheeks and the dampness on Gideon's shirt. “Gideon, I have to get up.”

“It's not going to be easy. Let me get something.” Gideon leaned Reid back against the tub. Reid curled into himself; the lack of heat and pressure from Gideon feeling like a sensory deprivation tank on his shattered nerves. Filled with aches, throbbing pains, a full bladder and the surety that something had died in his mouth, Reid couldn't track the amount of time that passed but suddenly Gideon was there with his hand extended, two white pills nestled in his palm. “Lortabs. The ER doc prescribed them for you.” Reid swallowed the bitter tabs dry and scared himself with how quickly he had grabbed for them. Gideon passed him a glass of water and it felt wonderful They waited in a sort of comfortable silence as the pills took effect. Eventually Reid loosened from the tight knot of pain and Gideon managed to lever him up without too much effort. Gideon started to lead Reid back into the bedroom. “Wait!”

Gideon paused. “I have, to, um, you know --go.” Gideon smiled a bit at those words. Classic Reid. Suddenly normalcy didn't seem quite so far away.

“Okay. I'll go wait outside.”
“Jason?” The dry heaves started to abate, but the shakes set in and Reid leaned on Gideon, utterly exhausted.

Gideon gathered Reid's shaking body against him and held his fragile form against his own. Eventually the

Fic: Far Too Human 2/?

2007-02-10T00:10:44Z

Okay guys I'm riding my writing high for as long as it will take me, these chapters seem a little short, would you guys rather have frequent updates and shorter chapters or longer chapters with more time between?

Title: Far Too Human 2/?
Summary: Fall out from Revelations. What exactly happened to Spencer, and where does he go from there?
Spoilers: The Big Game, Revelations, LDSK, basically every episode.
AN: I was watching Stir of Echos. Thinking about Reid and this is what happened.
AN2: I'm starting this three months in. That means that the next part should be happening right after Revelations, sorry that's just the way it works. Suck it up.
AN3: Things might seem a bit disjointed. That's on purpose. Not exactly from Reid's perspective, but to try and give you a picture of what's happening to him.

Right after Revelations......

Reid tired to pull himself together. He felt like everyone was staring at him, judging him, weighing him weak. His fingers wouldn't work quite right. They felt thick and clumsy, like his head. He pulled his sleeves straight and pressed the bruises under the shirt, just to feel the pain, the reminder. The world was too disjointed, harsh; like a film that was out of sequence. He couldn't help staring at his one lone striped sock. He looked at Gideon, sitting next to him in the back of the SUV on the way to the hospital. “You know, I don't even know where the other one is.”

“What?” Gideon's focus is on him, burning, harsh.

“My sock.” He gestures down to his mis-matched feet. “I couldn't find the other sock, the one that matched, so I just grabbed one. It was orange. Now there's two socks without a mate.”

Gideon's hand is like fire on his arm, just like his gaze is a furnace. Spencer laughs about cancer of the soul. Gideon's face bunches with worry,. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Staring out at the blur of green trees, feeling the roll of his stomach, Reid wasn't certain of anything, except perhaps the fact that nothing was going to be the same and the mold is shattered. With his neck broken, he falls asleep.

Gideon stared at the young man lying with his limbs askew and awkward, face too pale, and if he hadn’t been watching the rise and fall of his chest he'd think Reid was dead. “Gideon.” Hotch was suddenly there, with the door open next to Gideon, voice harsh in his ear. “We're here.”

Gideon didn't look away. “He fell asleep.” Sighing, loath to break Reid's momentary peace, he reached over anyway and brushed along his arm, feeling too much heat radiating from the pale skin. Gideon jumped, startled, as Reid did the same. Watched as the young man that he so admired shoved himself into the corner of the vehicle, pressed tight and tense, eyes wild and hands thrown up in defense.

“Spencer! It's me, Jason!” Reid's hands lower a bit and the muscles untense from fright to wariness.

“Gideon?” The tone is high and querulous. It breaks Gideon's heart.

“We're here. You need to get checked out.”

Reid looked out the window, staring with a wide-eyed fascination at the two orderlies who approached with a wheel chair and Morgan on their heels.

“Gideon, don't let them lock me up. I'm not crazy. Please.”

Fear clutched at Gideon's heart. “I know that. You're just going in to get checked out and cleaned up. I promise. No psych.” Yet. Gideon didn't say it, but from the way Reid turned his head and stared at him it seemed like he might as well have. He broke the gaze first, unable to keep seeing the look of betrayal on Reid's face.

Instead he watched Reid climb shakily out of the car and lever himself into the wheelchair. He couldn't help but stare at those mis-matched feet, one black and white striped cloth, the other blue and purple skin. Somehow that lone sock made the horror of the other foot just that much worse.

The team sat around like beads fallen from a broken necklace, lying wherever they landed.

Prentiss sat with her head tilted back, asleep. Morgan seemed to be folded tighter than Gideon had ever seen him, arms tight around himself. JJ's eyes were glazed and her knees were drawn up tight to her chest, defensive. Hotch leaned against a wall-- of the team, he seemed the most together. Perhaps the knowledge that he never gave up on Spencer, knew that he wouldn't break, was giving him strength.

Gideon was seated across from the ER doors, waiting intently for news.

The ER doctor came out holding a chart. He looked younger than Reid – quite a feat. “Jason Gideon?”

“That's me.”

“You're listed as the emergency contact for Spencer Reid?”

“Yes. This is his team. We—we saw what happened to him. Just tell us how he is.”

The doctor looked a bit flustered at the agents all staring at him and he was unsure if he should really be revealing the state of his patient to all these people. But one look at all the belts with guns on them decided for him. “Dr. Reid suffered two hairline fractures and a dislocation in his right foot. We're not exactly sure how he managed to actually walk on the foot; probably all the adrenaline in his system”. There's some bruising, he's dehydrated, and much too thin. There's an unknown drug in his system, so we can't give him anything yet. We sent labs, so we should have a better idea what's going on soon. He'll be here for at least 24 hours. We're getting a CT scan now. I don't think he has a concussion, though the drugs could be masking it. We'll have to wait and see. He's been asking to see you, Mr. Gideon.”

Gideon walked into the hospital room with heavy footsteps. It seemed to echo, like it was the only room in the hospital with a person in it. As if he and Reid were the only ones left in the world. Reid's bone structure was much too strong to be mistaken for a child, but there was still something childish in how he lay: partially curled to one side, arms held close, Gideon wished he'd thought to bring a bear or stuffed animal of some sort. Steven used to have a stuffed penguin named Mr. Fancypants that he took with him everywhere. Reid and Steven really looked noting alike, but gazing on Reid lying so pale on that hospital bed, Gideon couldn't help but see his son.

Reid blinked. It didn't really bring the world into focus. He wasn't wearing his glasses, but somehow this lack of distinction was different. Some things weren't fuzzy at all, but were as clear as day. The pale peach fuzz face was ringed with the crystal clear faces of the dead. Reid was lucid enough to figure out which was the hallucination. “Gideon?” It didn't really come out comprehensible, but Gideon seemed to know that it meant water. Sipping slowly, he had to stop himself from saying thank you to Tobias. Because Tobias was dead. Death stole his eyes.

“Gideon, I don't want to stay here.” It's a house of the dead. Reid manages to hold these words back. He's using all of the wits he has left to get himself out of this place.

“Reid, you have to get checked out. At least 24 hours.”

The world shattered and ran too fast - or perhaps time was broken. Jason's head blurred and a demon crawled out of his eye to sit on his shoulder. Reid knew it was whispering secrets. Telling Gideon lies about what was best for him.

“I just want to go home. I want my bed and my apartment. I can't stay here with them watching me.” He is careful not to mention the dead eyes watching him. Careful, careful, creep on cats’ paws.

Gideon reached out to stroke Reid's cheek, to reassure him, but Reid flinched back, cowering. “Please.” The quaver in the voice was so pitiful Gideon had to at least promise to talk to the doctors. Even as a voice whispered in his ear about how Reid needed to stay right where he was.

Fic: Far Too Human 1/?

2007-02-08T23:38:05Z

Okay so remember when I said things were percolating? Well the brew is finished, because I just had to write this! Silent_flux is my usual beta, but she's been so busy I didn't want to bother her with this (If you want to tackle.....) Anyway unbetaed. Sorry.

Title: Far Too Human 1/?
Summary: Fall out from Revelations. What exactly happened to Spencer, and where does he go from there?
Spoilers: The Big Game, Revelations, LDSK, basically every episode.
AN: I was watching Stir of Echos. Thinking about Reid and this is what happened.
AN2: I'm starting this three months in. That means that the next part should be happening right after Revelations, sorry that's just the way it works. Suck it up.

Three months later...

Reid paced back and forth, fingers twisting in complex spider patterns; tapping out rhythms and tunes that only he could hear. He seemed to be lost in his own world. Morgan and Gideon had no idea what they could do.

“Reid, man, we want to help you, but you have to help us help you.”

Reid looked up, eyes wide, fingers tap tap tapping. “What? Yes, help. Everyone needs help. Too much help, can't help them all. Catch the killers. Help the children.”

“No, Reid. Help you. We want to help you. Remember? After Tobias? He kept giving you drugs, got you addicted. Remember?” Morgan grabs Reid about the shoulders to stop the dizzying pacing and turns him to face forward, even as Reid turns his head away from him. Grabbing his jaw, Morgan forces Reid to meet his eyes. “Reid, you had a psychotic break. You're in a mental hospital detoxing. You had a psychotic break from all the drugs.” Reid's eyes roll in his head and Morgan wants to try anything to snap Reid out of it, to make him see what he did to himself. Anything to have the old Reid back.

Gideon pulls him away, hand pressing too hard into Morgan's shoulder. “It's not going to work. You're not going to reach him.”

Morgan throws off the arms, angry at everyone, especially Reid. “You don't know that! We have to try!”

Reid's doctor, Dr. Kirkoff, shakes his head sadly. “I tried to tell you, he's completely separated from reality.”

Suddenly Reid turned, and his eyes were focused, “Not separated from reality… too close. Too much reality. That's what the drugs were for. To make the voices stop. The death keeps speaking.” Reid shook his head, hair flying in his face like a hanging curtain of defense.

“He seems to believe that victims of crimes are speaking to him. That he's getting messages from the dead. Like I said, completely disconnected with reality.”

Then Reid was speaking again, and if it weren't for the white gown of a patient and the red scratch marks on his arms, Gideon could almost pretend that it was 4am and that they all looked like hell and were jittery from too much coffee as they sat around a table trying to find a killer before he took his next victim. “I know that you don't believe me.” Reid's eyes were suddenly so clear, lucid, even with the bags hanging underneath them. “But I'll prove it to you. Jonny. She used to make you sit and play tea, called you Madame Pea. Sip, sip, she drank too much.” Reid twirled away and Morgan felt dizzy just watching him. “Down, down circling the drain.”

The doctor was taking deep breaths and was looking entirely too pale. Glancing at Reid and seeing that he was back inside his head somewhere, Gideon grabbed the doctors arm and guided him out. “What just happened?”

“Reid just rambled, that didn't even make any sense!” Morgan pounded the wall in frustration.

“No. That actually did make sense.”

Their eyes shifted to him, heavy and intent. “My sister did make me have tea parties. She died - drowned in the bath tub. Slipped and hit her head.” He was pale and shaky with shock. “That was twenty years ago. It's not even in my records anymore. How could he know that? I mean, I didn't even remember the Madame Pea thing until he said it.”

They all turned and watched as the gaunt figure paced back and forth muttering, and the world tilted.

Fic: Only Human 1/1

2007-02-08T22:11:23Z

I know that something will come from The Big Game and Revelations, but the ideas are still percolating. For now this will have to do.

Title: Only Human
Summary: Anyone else notice Spencer's change from latex to Nirtile gloves? Well I did.
Rating: PG-13

Here they were in the back water Mississippi where they were once again faced with the rather disbelieving faces of the local law enforcement. Spencer knew he should dial back the whole genius Schick but he'd never been very good at that. Instead he rambled on and watched the fascinated horror grow in the sheriff's eyes. Suddenly he couldn't be bothered by the disgust in the man's eyes, he was too busy worrying about the elephant sitting on his chest.

Suddenly it was all he could do to stand up right. He was bent a bit at the waist but he could still see the sheriff's face and the incredulous disbelief on face and in his stance.

Reid was spending all his energy breathing so he wasn't really paying attention when the sheriff left the room. He vaguely noted the vibrations of him stomping down the stairs, but he certainly didn't hear or register any of the following.

Sheriff Jazlavicous, Sheriff Jazz to everyone that knew him, watch the other agents for a minute. He never really bought into the whole 'get into the mind of a killer thing'. It all seemed like voodoo and mumbo jumbo to him. “Seems your boy can't handle a little blood.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, “gettin' sick in the bedroom as we speak.” Jazz felt better as he watched them scramble around, they seemed more human.

Morgan turned to Gideon. “Reid hasn't been sick at a scene since...the second week on the team. I don't get it.” They made eye contact and Morgan could see the fear blossom in Gideon's eyes. Cell phone in hand the two raced up the stairs practically vaulting the last three steps and hollering for Reid to answer. The lack of response just galvanized them further.

Morgan started dialing 911 the second he saw Reid bent double kneeling on the floor. Gideon went immediately to Reid's side and got him on his feet. Reid didn't look like much all arms and legs, but his height was there. By the weight Gideon was supporting Spencer was barely conscious. Gideon watched the blue lips barely moving and turned to Morgan, “when will the 'bus be here?”

“2-3 minutes.”

“Not soon enough. Help me with him. We need to get him downstairs, meet the medics.”

“What's wrong with him?” Morgan threw one of Reid's arms over his shoulder and they started to ease Reid down the stairs. They were almost to the point where they were dragging Reid, when they sat Reid down on the bottom of the steps in front of the house. He was bent almost double and watched his heaving back. It felt like a life time as they watched the hitching back, each shaky breath taken felt like a minor victory and each long pause between them felt like an eternity. Morgan was rubbing Reid's arm soothingly. “When is the damn bus getting here? What the hell is wrong?” Morgan knew he was repeating himself, but he didn't know what else to do.

“I don't know. Allergic reaction? Panic attack?” Both immediately dismissed the idea of panic attack.

“Allergic reaction? To what? I didn't know Reid had any allergies?”

“He doesn't.”

Finally the ambulance arrived and Gideon climbed in after Reid. “Morgan stay here, finish with the scene. I'll call you with an update when we know more.”

Morgan watched the ambulance pull away and he couldn't figure out how he was suppose to just go back to his job when Reid was barely breathing.

Morgan had never been very good at dealing with his anger. Often other emotions were present but anger was so much easier to deal with. There was always a bad guy to catch, a man to face his crimes. Here there was no man to pay for crimes. There wasn't anything to focus his anger on, and Morgan didn't know what to do with himself.

He turned suddenly to face the Sheriff who was standing there in shock at the whole thing. “What?! You think that was funny? Watching Reid gasping on the floor? What'd you think that this was some damn movie for you entertainment? What the hell is wrong with you leaving him like that?” Morgan stalked over to him and slammed his hand into the wall next to Sheriff's head. He felt a moment of satisfaction when the Sheriff flinched back. “Reid is better than all the men in your department. He's been with the FBI for over three years and he's helped put away more killers than you have IQ points. If he dies....” Morgan trails off, not really sure what he'd do if Reid died, but he fears for his actions, and doesn't know how he'd feel about the whole thing.

******

“So I'm allergic to Latex?” Reid's throat was dry and scratchy.

“Yep. The paramedic's figured it out after they removed your gloves.”

Reid's head felt full of fuzz. He knew there was something wrong with that statement... “I was never allergic to latex before.”

“They're saying it was acute onset. You're not even suppose to touch someone that was wearing latex now.”

Something seeps through the cotton in his brain and leaks out, “Thank God I'm a virgin.”

Puzzled looks are exchanged among the team until Morgan catches on and starts to laugh. “Man! That would have sucked.” Suddenly the rest of the team gets it and the cloud of worry is finally fades with the laughter.</lj>

Fic: Chasing Ghosts 6/? Criminal Minds

2007-02-02T06:22:44Z

Hey I know it's been a while, but it's finally here!

Title: Chasing Ghosts 1/?
Summary: Reid’s sister visits and everything changes
Warnings: Slashy overtones kinda Reid/Morgan
Notes: This is not part of my Las Vegas universe. This is a completely different AU. Thanks to Silent_flux who continues to make me a better writer!
Rating: PG
Previous parts can be found at http://www.fanfiction.net/u/298681/

Chasing Ghosts 6/?

The short one and half hour flight was tense. The plane was clearly divided in half. Morgan, Jason and Reid bunched together, secure in their belief, while Hotch sat at the opposite end, as far away as possible, with JJ in the middle like a neutral buffer. Reid missed the glancing eye conversations that Morgan and Jason had, mind turning over various unpleasant possibilities for the immediate future. He barely glanced up as Gideon got up and walked over to Hotch for a short conversation. However, he did notice when Morgan sat down next to him, so close he could feel the heat from Morgan’s thigh.

“Reid, man, I just wanted to let you know that whatever happens, I believe you, and more importantly, I believe in you.”

Reid looked up and blinked rapidly, cursing the dampness in his eyes, thinking himself weak. Morgan’s hand came into view and rested on top of Reid’s hand. “Read my aura now.”

Reid lifted his head and gently cupped Morgan’s hand, his eyes drift slowly closed as he murmurs nonsense under his breath—disjointed words and syllables until he freezes and his eyes flying open with shock meet Morgan's gaze. “Do you really feel—I mean—“ Morgan’s eyes hold no fear only sincerity, but before they can continue, Gideon sits down heavily across from them and orders them to buckle up. Most of Reid wants to throttle Gideon for interrupting, but a small part was sincerely thankful. Time to think and meditate was always good, especially with something like this. But now the plane was landing and it took every bit of will power that Reid has, but he clears his mind and starts to focus on the case.

0o0

It was rather bleak outside the plane, wind gusted and clouds rolled over head. Trooping in a despondent little line, they headed toward the tarmac and the waiting figure.

Rather than shouting over the wind, Laurel led the team into the tarmac. “You don’t seem very surprised to see us,” Hotch commented.

Gideon and Morgan shot him disbelieving looks “Spencer didn’t say that he was bringing his team,” Hotch’s scowl deepened, “but I had a feeling.” Her lips curled in a queer little smile, and Hotch looked away first.

“Quickly. We need to view the latest body as soon as possible.” They rushed through the security flashing their badges walked up to two Toyota Echos. “Sorry they're not two of your standard government issue gas-guzzlers, but we are a green facility.”

“This is Harold. He works at the center.” Reid’s eyes tracked Hotch and he quickly climbed into the car that he chose. JJ followed suit and Harold climbed into the driver’s side. That left Morgan, Gideon and Laurel in the other car.

“You don’t want to catch up with Spencer?”

Laurel smiled a bit and Gideon felt a sudden sweeping feeling of uncertainty. He hadn’t felt this far out of his depth in a long time. “I would dearly love it if Spencer and I had some time together, but he’s quite busy running interference with that man, Agent Hotchner. Now is unfortunately not the time or the place.”

“You seem very close.”

“It wasn’t always that way. Spencer and I will never be mistaken as anything but related physically, but spiritually we’re not very similar at all. I was always strong and willful, unbending. By the time Spencer was born, I was leaving. We’re fifteen years apart and I didn’t see him again until he was twelve.”

“Seriously?” Morgan was aghast at the idea of not visiting one’s family.

“Strong and unbending doesn’t mean without problems. I had a lot of things to work out before I went home. When I got there, I hadn’t realized what had happened in my absence. I first thought that Spencer was very fragile, weak to bend in every direction that my mother blew, but later I came to see that as a kind of strength, bending without breaking. When I realized how sick our mother really was, I had her institutionalized. And Spencer came to live with me. We became much closer during that time, and I think that I was perhaps the first person to see him as he really was. That bending that seemed so weak hid an inner strength where he managed to go his own way.

“I thought he should come with me to the institute and test the limits of his abilities but he quietly managed to do exactly what he wanted, and what I disapproved of the most— he joined the FBI.

Gideon felt like he should protest or offer some proof that they deserved Reid and would do right by him, but was starting to realize that there was a lot more they could be doing and weren’t. Shamed, Gideon turned to the window and the rest of the trip was spent in silence.

They arrived a bit later than the first car, and apparently they were already heading to the morgue. “I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted Spencer to see the body as soon as possible. The closer he is to the time of death, the higher the chance of him picking something up.”

Hotch didn’t seem to have relaxed any since Gideon had seen him, but Reid didn’t seem to even notice as he leaned in close, inspecting the body.

“When did he die? About twelve hours ago?”

The coronerlooked a bit startled while answering, “Yes, right around midnight . Apparently it was a –“
“Heart attack.”

“Yes!” The coroner (corner) looked slightly freaked out, but Reid was oblivious.

“I can see how you would think that.” Reid turned his attention to the team and Laurel.

“Here,” Reid pointed at the heart area, “this is where the disruption occurred. The unsub placed a block here and it caused it to look like a heart attack.”

The corner looked up, “I didn’t find any signs of foul play!” He sounded deeply offended.

Reid looked over startled having forgotten about the man, countering, “But you didn’t find anything that indicated that his heart should have stopped working, like scar tissue or plaque build up?”

The coroner squirmed under the scrutiny, “no.”

Reid glanced at the coroner. “The body has been completely processed and washed, correct?”

The coroner nodded, and Reid closed his eyes and pressed his hand over the victim’s heart. “Hey, what is he doing? He’s not wearing gloves-“ Morgan reached out to restrain the man.

“Watch. He’s working.” Morgan felt worry stir in him, Reid’s face didn’t hold the peaceful concentration of when he had read Morgan’s aura, and as the color continued to leach from him, Morgan wasn’t sure if there was any blood left in Reid’s head at all. Gasping, Reid wrenched his hand away and swayed violently, his white knuckle grip on the autopsy table the only thing keeping him up right. Morgan rushed over and half carried Reid to the office desk chair where he slumped over looked half dead himself. When he spoke his voice came out rasping and strained. “Definitely a serial killer. Older, forties, doesn’t suffer fools gladly,” he murmured. “He won't stop killing, not until he’s caught, and he’ll never be caught.” Reid’s head lifted up briefly and Morgan gasped in shock at Reid’s eyes, completely white, and clouded over, until he slumped forward, and then Morgan realized that Reid was passing out and not channeling some spirit. Catching him deftly, Morgan leaned him back in the chair and balanced him carefully.

“Well? Now what?”

Fic: the Inner Child 2/8

2007-02-01T22:58:33Z

Title: The Inner Child 2/8
Author: Goddess_of_7s
Summary: A tow-headed child walks into the clinic and House runs into his most interesting case yet.
Warnings: None. Seriously.
Rating: PG
AN: This the first story in a series based in the Universe that I’m laying out in this story. Set in season 1-2

“Okay people, twenty-six year old male, sudden reduction in stature and maturity, making him act and appear twelve years old.”

Foreman stared at House, slacked jawed. He was so shocked that he was about to start checking to see if he’d accidentally fallen asleep on some labs or something. Cameron, on the other hand, started to fret that House had dropped LSD again.

Foreman was the first to recover his voice that is after pinching himself. “You’re not serious are you? You have a twelve year old that claims to be twenty-six? And you believe him?”

“No,” House says rather impatiently. “I have a twelve year old boy who claims to be twelve years old.” Foreman rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but House cut him off. “But he also thinks that the year is 1993.”

Something occurred to Cameron and she didn’t think, just blurted it out. “Shouldn’t Chase be a part of this?”

House shot her a scathing look. “He is a part of this, just not this part.” Really the two of them had no idea.

Foreman turned to Wilson who had, so far, stood silently in the corner sipping coffee. “Aren’t you going to say something to stop this madness?”

Wilson just shrugged and said, “I’ve often found it better to play along with House’s little eccentricities.”

Foreman snorted at this and House looked vindicated. “See? Now people differential diagnosis?”

“What?” asked Cameron.

House looked at her as if she was a small child and spoke really slowly and condescendingly, “What could turn a twenty-six year old man into a twelve year old child?”

Foreman tired of the charade piped up, “They’re not the same person.”

House took what he could get and wrote on the board ‘different people’. “Okay not very creative but bonus points for actually saying something productive, even though it’s not true. Cuddy is running a DNA contrast just to be sure.”

Foreman blinked in shock. “Cuddy is in on this?” That seemed incredibly unlikely to him. Perhaps it was April fools in June or something of that nature.

“I told you that we have a patient. Did you really think that Cuddy would let me get away with something like this? Focus people!”

Cameron never one to not try and prove herself said, “Time travel?”

House cocked his head at her. “Is that a question or a diagnosis?” But he wrote it up on the board anyway.

Foreman sighed but he had to admit that, if he just got into the spirit of things, it probably wouldn’t be so bad. But they really should be working on real patients. However House was fixated so he might as well go along until he could get off it. “Cloning?”

“Cloning. Yes good.”

“The fountain of youth,” Cameron piped up.

“Fountain of youth,” House repeated as he wrote it up on the board with a flourish.

“Okay so Cuddy is working on proving or disproving Foreman’s first suggestion. That might help with the cloning theory. There was a small .01 percent genetic change in the cloned sheep. However the problem with the cloning theory is the memories thing. Why would he remember the past? Well if it is cloning then they transferred memories somehow.”

“Now time travel that shows really possibilities.” House thoughtfully tapped the marker against his mouth “As a child his parents were heavy smokers. But later, as an adult, he never smoked or was around people smoking all that much. So, Cameron get a sample of hair and run a chemical analysis on it. If the kid really is from the past then he’s been around a chain smoker in the last twenty-four hours and it’d show up in his hair.”

Cameron felt a little superior that her suggestions had more merit. But they were the least scientific, so it was curious too.

“Now the fountain of youth, that is the most interesting but I’m not sure how to test for that one. Foreman I want you to run a tox screen. The works. If there’s anything foreign in this kid’s blood, I wanna know about it. Except Demerol. I gave that to him.”

“You drugged a kid?” Foreman asked incredulously.

“Well I gave him drugs. But those were for his broken collarbone. However I don’t think his broken collar bone is the reason why he lost fourteen years of his life.” House said just as Cuddy strode into the room, hair flying every which way, with an expression on her face that Foreman had never seen before. It was some hybrid breed of shock, disbelief and exasperation. House often caused these emotions in a person, just not usually all at once.

“Damn it House! How is it that you are always RIGHT? Even with something as ridiculous as this!” Cuddy groused before she slammed the test results down on the table. “One hundred percent match.” Cuddy dropped into a seat at the table before saying, “It’s Chase. God I need a drink.”

“WHAT!”

“CHASE?” Foreman and Cameron’s voices overlapped

House sighed, “Oh did I forget to mention that the kid’s name is Robert Chase?”

“Yeah,” Foreman bit out. “You did.”

“Oh, well it must have slipped my mind.” House replied nonchalantly.

“Has he been admitted?” Cameron asked with concern.

House looked taken aback. “God no! We don’t want a paper trail. Who ever did this might find him.”

Cuddy looked up at that. “Who ever did this?”

“Oops?” House didn’t even bother to pretend to be contrite, not that he ever did. “We might have gone to Chase’s apartment.”

Cuddy swung her stare over to Wilson who seemed very interested in his coffee cup. “You went with him?”

When it became clear that divining the future from the leftover coffee grounds wasn’t going to work, Wilson glanced at House long enough to glare before mumbling, “We thought that Robbie was Chase’s son and were taking him over there.”

“Besides, when we found the place ransacked, we knew that where ever Chase went, he didn’t go easy.”

Cuddy dropped her head onto the table with a thunk. “If we tell anyone about this they’ll think we’re nuts. We’ve got to figure out what’s going on before telling anyone anything.”

“Well we’ve all got out tasks then let’s get at.” House said as he glanced over his staff and colleagues.

“Umm House what exactly will you be doing?” Cuddy asked with his eyebrow raised.

House sniffed disdainfully. “You people are always trying to get me to visit with patients. I wish that you would make up your minds!” He sighed exasperated and started to head toward his office. Pausing in the doorway he turned, annoyed. “Well aren’t you coming? How else will you get the hair and blood samples?”

Cameron scrabbled up to follow while Foreman took a more sedate pace.

Both blinked in shock as House gently sat down beside a small lump curled up on his couch. Some of the shock value of it wore off when he poked the lump sharply.

“Wake up!” House tersely said to the lump.

The lump jerked and a tow headed boy appeared out from under the blanket.

“Yes?” Robbie glanced around at the new people hovering over him and back to House.

“We need samples for some testing.” House supplied in a monotone voice.

Blinking owlishly at House Robbie nodded his ascent as he yawned and stretched one arm.

House eyed him critically. “Painkillers wear off?”

Robbie shrugged with one shoulder. “I’m okay.”

Judging by the pinched look to the boy’s face he was in more pain than he was saying. House decided to slip some to Robbie the first chance he got.

Cameron and Foreman didn’t speak as they took the samples, they probably didn’t know what to say. Robbie himself didn’t talk either or wince as the needle slid into his skin.

As Foreman and Cameron were leaving they heard House ask, “So Robbie, you hungry? Did you get any breakfast?”

“Nah mate. Just a dingo’s breakfast1.” Robbie responded.

Foreman shook his head as he was leaving wondering when exactly the Twilight Zone stopped being a TV show and started being their life.

~ * ~

House had let Robbie pick out what ever he wanted to eat, so he couldn’t believe it when the kid picked out salad and some baked fish. House knew that Chase was kinda compulsive about his diet but he didn’t know that it stemmed all the way from childhood. Robbie even had the gumption to glare at House’s steak and mashed potatoes. House didn’t know what he was upset about; he even paid for the steak!

House waited until Robbie had really started to make inroads on his food before speaking. “We need to talk about what’s going on.”

Robbie looked up from his plate; at this point he was mostly just pushing the last few leaves of lettuce around. “I think I figured out some of it.”

House raised an eyebrow at this wondering just how much the kid figured out.

“At the apartment, there was some mail on the floor. I saw my name on them. Also I saw the date on the newspaper. I know that I’m supposed to be older; I just don’t know how it happened. Or what will happen. I mean my parents didn’t really want to raise me the first time let alone again.” Robbie said before looking away with tears pooling in his eyes which he scrubbed angrily from his face.

Dammit! It was those damn eyes! House has, up until this time, been able to maintain a certain emotional distance from their current mystery. However, as he spends more time with the altered version of his blonde employee, he finds himself thinking about him beyond the scope of the problem.

“Look I made a promise and I’m not going to renege on it.” House could practically hear Wilson standing over his shoulder whispering ‘And the Grinch’s heart grew by 3 sizes.’ Oh wait that was Wilson.

“What are you doing here?” House turned around to stare at Wilson.

“What I can’t eat lunch?” Wilson asked, failing miserable at looking innocent.

House sighed in exasperation but slid his lunch tray over anyway. Wilson, sensing how hard this all was for Robbie to face at once, filled up the space with some of his best patient stories involving an old woman named Mrs. Nezzbit.

Aussie Slang

1. A yawn, a leak and a good look round (i.e. no breakfast)

Fic: Revolutions 1/1 House-fic

2007-02-01T01:34:30Z

So this Chase history came to me during One Day, One Room. Then everything fell together and I wrote it in about 20 minutes so it's unbeta'ed. Hope you enjoy.

Title: Revolutions
Summary: Everything comes full circle eventually.
Spoilers: Current season missing scene from One Day, One Room
Rating: PG-13 like the show.

House was back from sitting with Eve, and Chase can't help but be thankful that House is too ensconced in her problems and his to notice anything else going on. Cameron walks in, she's been all depressed about some homeless man dying, which Chase doesn't get, because everyone dies. “How's Eve?” House doesn't look up from his twirling cane. “Riiiight she was raped.” Cameron isn't usually derisive of patients, that dying old guy must have her really in a tizzy.

“Well at least she's not pregnant,” Chase comments. House looks up at that eyes wide, face slack. “You did test for pregnancy right?” House's face shutters closed but Chase has seen enough to know the answer, “Bloody Hell. You have to test, and you have to test now.” House's gaze jerks back to Chase and suddenly he realizes that he said too much because House's laser vision is suddenly focused on him and from experience if he doesn't get out of it fast House will start to put the pieces together. Squirming Chase quickly grabs his coat, “right off to clinic duty.” Never mind the fact that he isn't suppose to start for another half hour. All the way to the elevator he can feel House's eyes on him and he can only hope that Eve will offer something more to distract House.

Chase was standing on the roof and the wind whipped around him, stinging with cold, times like these he wished it was possible for that wind to blow right through him, numbing his soul. He heard the door shut and knew it was too much to hope for a nurse looking for a smoke break. Chase leaned against the low brick wall and in a sudden flight of fancy he swung himself up and sat on the edge, feet dangling, he looks down and stares between his feet at the people down below. They were so small, insignificant really. Like him in so many ways. House's can clatters next to him and he briefly wonders when House managed to sneak into the physical therapists office to steal it back. He supposed a little B & E wasn't anything to the recent law trouble.

“Do you think Eve will really get better?”

House leaned next to him but was facing the wall, Chase could feel the heat from House's shoulder against his own. “Well she aborted the baby...”

“WHAT!?!” Chase turned suddenly and House turned, surprised at the noise and the sudden loss of heat. “How could you do that?!”

House couldn't help the puzzled feeling flowing through him, “You wanted her to ruin her life, raise her rapist's baby?”

“There are other alternatives. Plenty of people who want a child, a baby, that would be happy to pay her medical bills and give her baby a good home. I cannot believe you.” House experienced a moment of vertigo at Chase's disgust. All the stunts House had pulled and Chase was bother by the abortion of a mass of cells smaller than the tip of pencil? He knew that Chase was peskily Catholic but really.

“Like you could understand what she was going through. Would go through if she kept that baby.”

House glanced at Chase and shuddered as Chase leaned far over the edge of the roof. “I was sixteen when I was in the seminary. I was with my best friend, Kat. She was-was raped and pregnant. I sat with her through it all, the vomiting, back pain, nightmares, panic attacks. How she would one day hate the thing growing inside her and the next love it. She was seven months along when-when she hung herself. I found the body. It would've been a boy.” Chase turned legs drawn up to his chest, as if he froze in the process of getting off the ledge, and he stared at House, his eyes, blue tonight, glittered. House imagined those tears had been sitting there since Chase's mother died, or perhaps even sooner. “You really don't know me at all, so there's really no way for to you know what I do or do not understand.” House watched as Chase walked out the door, and some how it seemed as if Chase was the one that should be limping.