Creatures of the Night: The Clockwork Boy, 22/?
Title: The Clockwork Boy
Rating: R
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Creatures of the Night (Part 2)
Pairing: Reid/Austin, Morgan/Prentiss; JJ/Hotch
Genre: Supernatural/Drama
Summary: Reid is searching for answers. JJ, Hotch and Morgan are searching for Reid. Prentiss and Rossi investigate a series of deaths that are related to an old case. Things are much more twisted than they seem. AU.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Three months ago.
David Rossi feels the burst of energy before he sees what happens. When someone casts Obliteration, it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Any person within a half-mile radius can feel it, even if they don’t have any magical skills. This particular Obliteration feels different, though - as though it’s been tainted by some other magics, even if he can’t quite figure out what.
It’s like someone’s taken a bunch of spells and chucked them in a blender. It happens sometimes, when the air is thick with magic; too many sorcerers spoil the potion.
His head turns slightly to the side, and he sees Morgan unconscious, and Elle…where’s Elle? He can’t see her, but then, there’re a few visual barriers. He falls back on trying to feel the energy again, seeking out the signature of her body; it’s not a skill that he’s particularly good at, but with enough time, he can usually let all the blocks fall into place.
There. The world slips away a little bit, detailed visual imagery replaced with blurs of color. Hotch is a vague smear of white to his left. Reid’s grey, over near the door. JJ’s another flash of white. The S.W.A.T team is a rainbow of colors; reds and blacks and whites and silvers, all pulsating at their own rhythm. Morgan’s red, fading a little bit at the edges, thanks to his state of unconsciousness. Elle’s…
Elle’s gone.
Not just dead - there’s another energy signature altogether for that - but disappeared entirely. He can’t feel her anywhere -even if she’d just been transported, then he should still feel an echo. She’d been there one minute, and gone the next. Such an event so close to the Obliteration is not good news at all. Part of him is already starting to accept the fact that she’s dead, even if the words haven’t yet been spoken aloud.
‘Morgan and Elle are down,’ he tells Hotch; his words don’t betray his suspicions, but Hotch is not an idiot.
‘Can you get to him?’ Hotch asks, the “him” no doubt referring to the Anath’s Circle leader. Rossi cranes his head out slightly, assessing the situation - two minutes ago, he probably would have said no, but now, he’s feeling a little bit angrier about the whole situation, and while he hasn’t been young and foolish in a long time, he doesn’t particularly like it when people kill his friends.
Every bit of power he can muster up is going directly to his fingertips. Being awake afterwards doesn’t really seem to matter so much anymore. All that matters is ending this before anyone else dies. And, God help him, he does.
It takes every single ounce of strength in his body to set off the Concussion burst, because it needs to be powerful enough to take this guy down in one shot.
They’re lucky that this is one of the weaker cells of the Circle. Next time he’s going to recommend they’re accompanied by a full regiment of sorcerers, which really, was supposed to happen today, only some idiot decided that their services were better used elsewhere. He’s going to personally ensure that this particular idiot is the recipient of a swift kick up the behind.
Once he regains consciousness of course.
He feels the energy escaping from his body as it gathers at the tip of his staff. All the rays of light that are bouncing around the room miraculously seem to miss him, even though he’s out in the open now.
The light bursts into a flower, the silence overwhelming. There’s noise, he knows, but his ears are so numb that he can’t even begin to think what the sounds might be. Hotch has his hands on his ears; it’s bad for wizards. It’s probably ten times worse for humans.
Then, all of a sudden, everything stops. His staff clatters to the ground, and the silence is real, actual silence, rather than just his ears choosing not to perceive the noise. There are unconscious and half-conscious, and in some cases, dead bodies lying scattered.
‘Are you alright?’ a member of S.W.A.T. asks him; silver bursts of light are still circling his torso. Vampire. Of course vampires would be unaffected.
Before he can say anything, his knees give out, and he drops to the ground.
* * *
Who am I?
Those are her first thoughts as she wakes up. Her first thoughts, that is, after “ow” and “ugh”. She’s in a forest somewhere, the dark trees giving it an ominous atmosphere. She can’t remember a single thing about anything.
A blank slate.
Red light.
She remembers red light.
Nothing else.
Had something happened to make her forget?
Is there someone out there looking for her?
She stands up, a little shakily, but her body’s intact, which is a small blessing. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Arms. Legs. All the right pieces are there. She’s wearing a vest that has “F.B.I” printed on it, and the letters don’t have any immediate meaning. There’s something in the back of her mind telling her that it’s important, but she tries to brush it away, because her head is pulsating with pain right now.
She slips the vest off, because it’s heavy, and she lets her body relax a little bit, which is difficult. Her muscles are tight, and her legs are aching. Whether it’s from whatever had sent her here, or something else entirely, she isn’t quite sure.
There’s a badge in her pocket.
Name: Elle Greenaway
Species: Human
Age: 33
The photo in the upper left hand corner is hers, as far as she’s aware. She doesn’t have a mirror, or any kind of reflection, but she feels the shape of her face, and her hair, and really, why would she have someone else’s badge in her pocket.
It says “Federal Bureau of Investigation,” which fits with the initials on the vest, but it’s still not right. There’s something there telling her that her name is Elle Greenaway, but she feels no connection to that name at all. She might as well be “John Doe” for all the emotional resonance that the name gives her.
A blank slate.
She doesn’t even know who she is.
Not really.
A/N: Sorry about the update wait. I’ve been sick this week, and it’s hard to write with a fluffy brick for a brain. Hopefully this is up to scratch, and with any luck, my fic schedule shouldn’t be disrupted for too much longer. Peace.
Rating: R
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Creatures of the Night (Part 2)
Pairing: Reid/Austin, Morgan/Prentiss; JJ/Hotch
Genre: Supernatural/Drama
Summary: Reid is searching for answers. JJ, Hotch and Morgan are searching for Reid. Prentiss and Rossi investigate a series of deaths that are related to an old case. Things are much more twisted than they seem. AU.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Three months ago.
David Rossi feels the burst of energy before he sees what happens. When someone casts Obliteration, it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Any person within a half-mile radius can feel it, even if they don’t have any magical skills. This particular Obliteration feels different, though - as though it’s been tainted by some other magics, even if he can’t quite figure out what.
It’s like someone’s taken a bunch of spells and chucked them in a blender. It happens sometimes, when the air is thick with magic; too many sorcerers spoil the potion.
His head turns slightly to the side, and he sees Morgan unconscious, and Elle…where’s Elle? He can’t see her, but then, there’re a few visual barriers. He falls back on trying to feel the energy again, seeking out the signature of her body; it’s not a skill that he’s particularly good at, but with enough time, he can usually let all the blocks fall into place.
There. The world slips away a little bit, detailed visual imagery replaced with blurs of color. Hotch is a vague smear of white to his left. Reid’s grey, over near the door. JJ’s another flash of white. The S.W.A.T team is a rainbow of colors; reds and blacks and whites and silvers, all pulsating at their own rhythm. Morgan’s red, fading a little bit at the edges, thanks to his state of unconsciousness. Elle’s…
Elle’s gone.
Not just dead - there’s another energy signature altogether for that - but disappeared entirely. He can’t feel her anywhere -even if she’d just been transported, then he should still feel an echo. She’d been there one minute, and gone the next. Such an event so close to the Obliteration is not good news at all. Part of him is already starting to accept the fact that she’s dead, even if the words haven’t yet been spoken aloud.
‘Morgan and Elle are down,’ he tells Hotch; his words don’t betray his suspicions, but Hotch is not an idiot.
‘Can you get to him?’ Hotch asks, the “him” no doubt referring to the Anath’s Circle leader. Rossi cranes his head out slightly, assessing the situation - two minutes ago, he probably would have said no, but now, he’s feeling a little bit angrier about the whole situation, and while he hasn’t been young and foolish in a long time, he doesn’t particularly like it when people kill his friends.
Every bit of power he can muster up is going directly to his fingertips. Being awake afterwards doesn’t really seem to matter so much anymore. All that matters is ending this before anyone else dies. And, God help him, he does.
It takes every single ounce of strength in his body to set off the Concussion burst, because it needs to be powerful enough to take this guy down in one shot.
They’re lucky that this is one of the weaker cells of the Circle. Next time he’s going to recommend they’re accompanied by a full regiment of sorcerers, which really, was supposed to happen today, only some idiot decided that their services were better used elsewhere. He’s going to personally ensure that this particular idiot is the recipient of a swift kick up the behind.
Once he regains consciousness of course.
He feels the energy escaping from his body as it gathers at the tip of his staff. All the rays of light that are bouncing around the room miraculously seem to miss him, even though he’s out in the open now.
The light bursts into a flower, the silence overwhelming. There’s noise, he knows, but his ears are so numb that he can’t even begin to think what the sounds might be. Hotch has his hands on his ears; it’s bad for wizards. It’s probably ten times worse for humans.
Then, all of a sudden, everything stops. His staff clatters to the ground, and the silence is real, actual silence, rather than just his ears choosing not to perceive the noise. There are unconscious and half-conscious, and in some cases, dead bodies lying scattered.
‘Are you alright?’ a member of S.W.A.T. asks him; silver bursts of light are still circling his torso. Vampire. Of course vampires would be unaffected.
Before he can say anything, his knees give out, and he drops to the ground.
* * *
Who am I?
Those are her first thoughts as she wakes up. Her first thoughts, that is, after “ow” and “ugh”. She’s in a forest somewhere, the dark trees giving it an ominous atmosphere. She can’t remember a single thing about anything.
A blank slate.
Red light.
She remembers red light.
Nothing else.
Had something happened to make her forget?
Is there someone out there looking for her?
She stands up, a little shakily, but her body’s intact, which is a small blessing. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Arms. Legs. All the right pieces are there. She’s wearing a vest that has “F.B.I” printed on it, and the letters don’t have any immediate meaning. There’s something in the back of her mind telling her that it’s important, but she tries to brush it away, because her head is pulsating with pain right now.
She slips the vest off, because it’s heavy, and she lets her body relax a little bit, which is difficult. Her muscles are tight, and her legs are aching. Whether it’s from whatever had sent her here, or something else entirely, she isn’t quite sure.
There’s a badge in her pocket.
Name: Elle Greenaway
Species: Human
Age: 33
The photo in the upper left hand corner is hers, as far as she’s aware. She doesn’t have a mirror, or any kind of reflection, but she feels the shape of her face, and her hair, and really, why would she have someone else’s badge in her pocket.
It says “Federal Bureau of Investigation,” which fits with the initials on the vest, but it’s still not right. There’s something there telling her that her name is Elle Greenaway, but she feels no connection to that name at all. She might as well be “John Doe” for all the emotional resonance that the name gives her.
A blank slate.
She doesn’t even know who she is.
Not really.
A/N: Sorry about the update wait. I’ve been sick this week, and it’s hard to write with a fluffy brick for a brain. Hopefully this is up to scratch, and with any luck, my fic schedule shouldn’t be disrupted for too much longer. Peace.