Strength of the Pack - Prologue & Section One

[welfycat]

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Prologue

Jason Gideon stared out over the slowly gathering audience of Cal Tech staff and students that had come to listen to his seminar on profiling and careers in the FBI. He had felt something gnawing at the back of his mind ever since he'd walked onto the campus early that morning and had spent the entire day trying to place exactly what it was. At first Jason had attributed it to the presence of a small yet active pride operating on campus, as the presence of other shifters always put him on alert, but after meeting the pride leader - a young man whose wild hair was probably an unconscious reflection of his mane - he knew that it was something else, something different. Eventually he'd called Hotch, under the guise of the regular check-ins he'd promised to make when he'd agreed to go on a recruitment tour.

Hotch, their unit chief and pack leader, had immediately picked up that something was wrong. Even three thousand miles away he could tell just by Jason's tone of voice that he was unsettled. Jason had assured him that he didn't need the team to come out, it wasn't the presence of an unsub and he didn't need the pack to back him up, and Hotch had reluctantly let the subject drop in favor of asking when Jason thought he'd be returning.

Standing at the edge of the auditorium, with only a few minutes to go before he was supposed to get on stage, Jason felt the sensation even stronger than before. It was like every sensory receptor was screaming at him to stand up and look, though he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking at. Deciding that he had enough time, Jason closed his eyes and let his sense of smell wander. It was a sign of his age that he was able to let his wolf senses mingle so completely with his human ones and it was a double edged sword. Most of the time, it was an advantage in the field, which was all Jason cared about. If some mornings the smell of coffee brewing in the bullpen was enough to send him hurrying in the other direction, so be it.

It was the smell of something intimately familiar that caused Jason to open his eyes. He wasn't surprised very often, not anymore, but to find the scent of his pack in a place where he was certain none of them had ever stood was highly disconcerting.

The auditorium grew quiet, though not silent, as the department head stepped on stage to give a brief introduction. Jason had provided the requested biography, cleaned up for public consumption, but he only partially listened as his background in profiling was presented. He took the opportunity to stand, turning to look across the audience without the stage lights blinding his vision. Once he found the other shifter - Jason was absolutely certain of that much - his eyes confirmed what his nose had told him: pack. He didn't have time to see much more than a young man with his eyes hidden by glasses and brown hair that was worn longer than was currently fashionable obscuring most of his features, but Jason knew that he'd be able to find the man in an instant now that he'd seen and scented him.

The department head finished his introduction, an unnecessarily lengthy one in Jason's opinion, and Jason walked up onto the stage and took his place in front of the podium. He had given the recruitment song and dance more times than he could recall over his years with the FBI, more than he could count just in his past six months of leave after the bombing in Boston, and he knew how to make the work they did sound both important and appealing. He knew enough to leave out the parts where he had seen hundreds bodies of people who had been brutally killed and how sometimes they didn't make it in time to save the life of a child. Usually he stated that the emotional toll of the work was heavy, but left out that after a dozen years the nightmares were impossible to pick apart. But, tonight, Jason gave a different lecture; he told them what it was like to lose a team member because of a judgement call you made, and how the job made up your entire life. The auditorium had fallen eerily silent; it was rare for crowds to ever be completely quiet, and when Jason looked up he found that he had the complete attention of everyone in the room.

Jason focused on the man who he had identified as a member of his pack, meeting his eyes directly from across the mass of people. "It's worth it. Every loss, every minute second guessing, every nightmare, is worth it for the ones we can save and for the ones who never become victims because of our work," he said, surprised to find that he meant every word.

A minute later the department head stepped up and retook the stage, looking unsettled. Jason supposed that it was warranted; that hadn't quite been the recruitment speech he'd signed up to give. He moved to the edge of the auditorium and leaned against the wall. If he was right, the man would come to him, instead of Jason having to seek him out. Either way, Jason knew that he'd be heading back to Quantico within the next few days. He was scheduled for a longer tour, but he could cancel without any problems. Maybe he really had been looking for something when he'd set out on his trip, though he hadn't known at the time if he was ever going back to the BAU, or maybe he'd just needed the time to find peace with himself. He knew now that he'd found whatever it was he'd been looking for.

"That was one of the most interesting recruitment lectures I've had the dubious pleasure of witnessing," the department head said, coming to a stop a few feet away from Jason.

Jason nodded, still distracted as he watched the crowd of students. "They need to know," he said. He wouldn't lie to a member of his pack; couldn't, really.

"True enough, though I'm not sure that you'll actually get many applicants by telling them that they will spend days of their lives believing they are about to die." The man, approximately the same age as Jason, ran his hands through his already untamed hair.

Jason blinked; had he really said that? The speech he'd just given already felt like a distant and foggy memory. "Who was the young man, sitting at the front of the second section on the far right? Longer hair, glasses, collared brown shirt," he asked, ignoring the speech he'd given in favor of focusing on the man who was a member of his pack.

The department head looked out at the students, many of them slowly walking out and gathered in small groups as they talked quietly among themselves. "Ah, of course. Spencer Reid, our resident genius. And, around here, that's saying something. He's only twenty and just starting his third doctorate; engineering this time, I believe. He started his first doctorate here when he was only sixteen, and has additional undergraduate degrees. I'm not sure he's quite cut out for the FBI. I imagine he only came because he was interested in hearing the lecture. Spencer typically attends most of the guest lectures on campus. If you're interested in meeting with him, I might be able to arrange something."

"That won't be necessary," Jason said before he turned to find the young man in question standing to the side of the auditorium. Spencer was watching them with a contemplative expression, staring at Jason like he was a problem to be solved or a question to be answered. Jason picked up his bag from the seat where he'd left it and nodded his farewell to the department head before walking up the aisle.

The young man, though to Jason he seemed hardly more than a child, was taller than Jason had expected, though it was belied by his thin frame. Up close Jason could see the dark circles underneath Spencer's eyes, and the prominent bones at his wrists jutting from beneath the cuffs of his shirt. Spencer looked startled to be approached, his eyes widening as he moved back a step.

Jason stopped well outside of what was the typical comfort zone of a shifter, even though as pack mates he should have been welcome much closer. "I thought we might talk, perhaps you could suggest a restaurant in the area that you prefer?"

Spencer stared, a torrent of emotions flickering across his face. "I have questions. In an interview, you said that Palmer Johanson was caught because his psychosis caused him to deviate from typical behavior during the investigation, but given his history of psychological treatment and consistent medication state, isn't that downplaying his motivation? I mean, when he was interviewed he wasn't displaying any signs that he was experiencing hallucinations or other indicators that he wasn't capable of connecting to reality."

"A local diner that you are fond of, perhaps?" Jason asked, resisting the temptation to smile; Spencer was far more suited for the BAU than his department head believed. "We can talk on the way."

"Pie 'N Burger is point seven miles away," Spencer said. He appeared both nervous and hopeful, watching Jason intently as ever.

Pies and burgers, assuming the restaurant was aptly named, wasn't Jason's food of choice, but he felt that he could be persuaded to eat like a university student if only for an evening. "Lead the way," Jason motioned towards the exit, not unaware of the considering look he was getting from the department head and from more than one professor who had lingered in the auditorium.

"Or do you believe that it was his psychosis that prompted Palmer Johanson to be interviewed in the first place, only hours after his last murder? In subsequent interviews it was never made clear what his motivation was for entering the police station when the presence of the FBI was widely known within the community by that point in time," Spencer continued eagerly as they walked out into the cool evening air.

Jason let himself smile. He was more than willing to talk a little shop and indulge a curious mind before he got down to his purpose. Everything in good time.

*****



Section One

Aaron Hotchner looked up from his desk when he heard the sound of Jason Gideon's voice in the bullpen. He couldn't make out the words, at least not without having his door open, but he could sense that things had changed. Aaron had felt a little restless all morning, able to tell immediately when Jason had entered the building even though he hadn't actually seen him yet, but he attributed the feeling to be able to sense all of his pack again. It had been too long, far too long, since the last time he knew that his entire pack was safe and together. Maybe the feeling of completion was an echo of Jason's newfound well being, though Aaron had some doubts that a road trip and a break from the BAU had helped that much.

He tapped his pen idly on the file in front of him; they'd only gotten back from a case in Colorado the evening before and he was still finishing his report. He wouldn't be able to turn it in until after he'd coordinated the entire team's reports, but he liked to have his out of the way as soon as possible because there was always going to be another case demanding their attention. With any luck they'd have a few days downtime to readjust to Jason's presence before they were urgently needed on a case, assuming Jason was still interested in working active cases with the team.

Jason knocked lightly on the door before opening it and stepping inside, his relaxed shoulders and easy movements a world of difference from when he had left just over six months ago.

"You finally decided to come see me," Aaron joked, standing up and reaching for Jason's proffered hand.

Jason clasped Aaron's hand easily, his head tilting away from Aaron and slightly exposing his neck in an automatic expression of submission to the leader of his pack. "I thought it might be a good idea. I figured word would get out sooner or later and I should probably get to you first."

"I'm sure I would have figured out that you'd returned eventually, though you could have told me on the phone that you were coming back." Aaron paused, letting his sense of smell briefly spike as he re-scented Jason. Dropping Jason's hand, Aaron shifted back a step and stared; between Jason's phrasing and a scent that was pack but not familiar to Aaron, whatever had changed was more than just Jason finding some kind of inner peace. "Jason?"

"That was fast, though I'd expect nothing less from you. He's in the bullpen with Derek and JJ," Jason said with a shrug.

"You didn't take a mate?" Aaron asked as he stepped around the desk, confused because that wasn't the scent he was getting from Jason, but he wasn't sure what else would explain the change.

Jason chucked quietly. "No, it's past that time for me, Aaron. I've brought back a cub. His name is Spencer Reid."

Aaron's eyes narrowed in confusion, keeping half of his attention on Jason as he walked over to his window and cracked open the blinds. Sure enough there was a young man standing with Derek and JJ. "Jason, you can't just bring a cub home and declare it pack," Aaron said, not quite sure where to start with voicing his objections.

"I'm aware of that, but he was already pack. You can sense it, smell it, the same way that Derek and JJ can. Look, would they ever let someone they didn't know so close to them without the person being a member of the pack?" Jason asked, settling down in one of the chairs in front of Aaron's desk.

After making sure that Jason saw his look of disapproval, Aaron looked out over the bullpen again and saw that Jason was at least partially right in his assessment of how JJ and Derek were interacting with the young man. JJ and Derek were almost competing for his attention, JJ holding her cellphone up so that the man could lean in and listen to whoever was on the line - undoubtedly Garcia - while Derek was perched on the edge of his desk and smiling broadly. Their body language was the true tell, both of them angled toward the newcomer and pushing at the edges of his personal space.

Valiantly, Aaron pressed his case. "What did you do, Jason? Pick him up off the side of the road and tell him you're taking him to the FBI?"

"Out of a Cal Tech lecture hall, actually," Jason commented mildly. "And he was quite eager to come."

"You can't just pluck a student out of a university and expect him to become an FBI agent, let alone a member of the BAU." Aaron turned away from the window and moved to sit in the seat next to Jason. He was the leader of the pack, and the unit chief of the team, and as much as he cared for Jason as a friend and pack member he couldn't drag some kid into the FBI just because Jason had somehow grown attached. It was as simple as that.

Jason seemed unconcerned with Aaron's objections. "He has two hard science doctorates and undergraduate degrees in psychology and sociology. Not to mention he's a genius and has an eidetic memory. I spent the drive back from California explaining the workings of the FBI and the BAU, and I've already received permission from the director of the FBI to do the majority of his training within the team."

When Aaron didn't respond, Jason pressed his advantage. "You've been putting off adding another profiler to the team because there has been no one who fits both the pack and the team. Spencer will be an asset to this team, but more importantly he is a member of the pack. I knew before I even saw him, before we were even in the same room together. He needs us, Aaron," Jason finished plainly. He wasn't begging or pleading, but simply stating the facts as he saw them.

Aaron turned his head as he heard a small squeal, watching through the window as their tech analyst Penelope Garcia bounded up to greet Spencer. He suppressed a sigh, knowing that he'd already lost this battle even though he'd never had much ground to stand on to begin with. Now that the pack had met Spencer, and obviously approved, they would have a hard time forgiving Aaron if he turned him away.

He wasn't sure if Jason believing that the young man was pack was simply Jason imprinting on the first compatible shifter he encountered, or something else entirely, but it hardly mattered now. Aaron often found that most of being a pack leader and a unit chief was simply reacting to situations that he had no control over and doing the best he could to protect his people. What was done, was done. Unless Spencer was completely incapable of working with the team, and Aaron already suspected that he would be incredibly useful in research even if he wasn't suitable for field work, Aaron would just have to accept that they had a new cub in the pack.

"Send him up and we'll see," Aaron said, not sure why he was even bothering to pretend that he might send Spencer away. Probably something to do with reinforcing the illusion that he had any control over his pack.

Jason smiled, a completely genuine smile that Aaron hadn't seen since long before the Boston bombings. "Thank you," Jason said, and reached for Aaron's hand once more.

Aaron stood and drew Jason close to him, pressing his nose to the skin just below Jason's ear. Once, when Jason had been the pack leader and Aaron had barely been more than a cub himself, Aaron could remember receiving comfort in being held like this for a few moments after a horrific case in South Dakota. It was a relief to have his pack whole again, and if that meant there would be a new cub to watch over, Aaron could live with that.

"Thank you," Jason said again as they parted.

He left the office just before a small ding sounded from Aaron's computer. Aaron sat down behind his desk and opened the email in his inbox sent straight from the director of the FBI, alerting him that Agent in Training Spencer Reid had been assigned to his team. After thinking about it for a moment, Aaron decided that he didn't want to know if Jason had made Spencer's acceptance to the FBI and inclusion on the team as a condition of his return to the BAU.

A soft knock on Aaron's door let him know that Spencer was waiting, and Aaron found himself the slightest bit curious as to what type of person could have called to Jason enough that he imprinted without his knowledge. "Enter," Aaron called, loud enough that he could be heard by a human as well as a shifter. Depending on how much experience Spencer had in his form, his sense of hearing might still be closer to that of a human instead of a shifter.

The door opened, just enough for Spencer to peek inside. "Agent Hotchner? Agent Gideon said that you asked to see me."

"Come in. Shut the door behind you," Aaron instructed, although he suspected that Garcia and Jason would be listening in on the conversation from the bullpen, and Garcia would most likely be passing along any pertinent information to Derek and JJ.

Spencer slipped inside the room and quietly closed the door. He moved so that he was standing in front of Aaron's desk, watching Aaron expectantly.

Aaron took a moment to look Spencer over, noting that physical training was going to be an issue, but being a shifter would probably help with that. He was young, looked younger than Jason had said he was, and if it wasn't for the unmistakable scent of pack, Aaron would be politely but firmly sending him away. "Have a seat," Aaron said, sitting down in his own chair behind his desk.

Spencer obediently sat, still focused intently on Aaron.

Finding the attention a little unnerving, Aaron pushed aside his reservations and went straight to business. "As I'm sure Gideon has mentioned most of your training will be handled within the team. I'll draw up a preliminary schedule and we'll coordinate with the FBI Academy to make sure everything is in order. You have a place to stay in the area?"

"Agent Gideon is letting me stay with him for the interim," Spencer said quickly. "Does this mean you're letting me join the team? Gideon said that it was your decision."

Aaron considered the young man in front of him, trying to ignore the slightly uncomfortable sensation that felt like someone licking his fur in the wrong direction. "On a trial basis. We'll evaluate the situation regularly. I won't lie to you," Aaron said as he got to his feet. "This is a difficult job, with long hours and an irregular schedule. We frequently operate under stressful conditions where lives depend on how quickly and accurately we can profile an unsub and locate them. It can be incredibly dangerous, sometimes deadly. Are you certain you want to be here?"

To Spencer's credit he didn't answer right away and seemed to be giving the question the thought it deserved. He looked down at his lap for a moment, his hands clasping and then pulling apart. "It feels right to be here. I don't really know how to explain it, but when Gideon brought me into the room, and I met JJ and Derek, it was like touching an open circuit. Before, at Cal Tech, I could sense something from Gideon, like something scratching at the edge of my mind, but it wasn't even close. I can't imagine walking away from that, and while I don't have any experience profiling, I find the topic and process fascinating. I want to be here."

"Alright. I'm sure you have paperwork and other matters to settle with the Bureau. When we aren't in the field, the team is in the bullpen by nine, we hold briefings on consultations that we do from Quantico at ten in the conference room. I'm certain that Derek and Gideon will help you get settled in the bullpen." Aaron moved around his desk, smiling a little as Spencer sprung to his feet. "Welcome to the team, Spencer."

"Thank you, sir," Spencer said, his relief visible.

"Hotch, is fine." Aaron reached out to shake hands, intrigued when Spencer held back for a moment before offering his hand like he thought Aaron might bite. Aaron gently took Spencer's hand and shook it lightly. When greeting a pack member, particularly after a long absence or during a more formal situation such as greeting them for the first time, it was customary to bring them in close in order to scent them better and get a sense of their physical state. Given that Spencer was watching where their hands were touching like someone might watch a volatile science experiment, Aaron decided that Spencer was probably overwhelmed with belonging to a new pack and getting to know him better would have to wait for another time.

Releasing Spencer, Aaron took a step back and watched as Spencer pulled his arms in protectively around his body. "Go down to the bullpen, Derek will help you get settled," Aaron said, spurring Spencer into action.

Aaron moved so that he was at his window again, watching as his pack closed ranks around their new cub, simultaneously investigative and protective. Jason had been right that Spencer was pack, and Aaron had some doubts as to whether Jason would have been able to imprint so strongly that Spencer would scent so thoroughly as pack in such a short time.

He recalled how he and Jason had found JJ at a similar university recruitment seminar, how they'd known when they saw her, and how when JJ had bumped into Garcia in the halls of Quantico she'd immediately brought her up to see them. Sometimes there was no rhyme or reason to how members of a pack were brought together, but Aaron had never thought his pack was incomplete before this morning.

Something still felt off; he was certain of his decision to keep Spencer with the pack, but there was still something bothering him that he couldn't place. Resolving to let problem work in the back of his mind, Aaron returned to his desk and went back to the report he was writing. Part of his attention was directed toward the bullpen, feeling the ebb and flow as his team settled in, and Aaron let himself take a moment to savor having his pack safe and together again.

*****

Spencer swiped his ID card, the very card that proclaimed he was a federal agent in training, unable to stop the small smile when the scanner beeped and released the door for him. Three weeks ago he'd been starting his third doctorate - engineering this time - and had been in the process of resigning himself to the fact that he'd probably spend the rest of his life researching and publishing in an academic environment. It wasn't that he minded academia, but after eight years spent getting a fair number of degrees it felt like everything was starting to blur together. The next thing he knew, he was across the country and working for the FBI.

When Spencer had first seen Gideon, the man climbing onto the stage like he was carrying the entire world with him, Spencer had been intrigued - mostly because he'd read about the man as well as all the material that was available about the history of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Spencer read any background material he could find before any guest lecture that was set to appear, and although profiling wasn't a topic that was usually offered at Cal Tech, Spencer had undergraduate degrees in psychology and sociology and was enthusiastic to hear the man speak.

Then, Gideon had started speaking, and it had been like Spencer's ears had been touched with flames. Gideon's voice filled the room and pressed inward on Spencer, until all he could do was sit frozen and let the sounds overwhelm him. There had been no words, nothing that Spencer could separate out, and when Gideon had finished speaking it was like reaching the surface of a pool and suddenly he could breathe again.

Meeting Derek, JJ, and Garcia had been a little different, but he could feel them standing around him as if their nearby presence was a light pressure against his skin. Right now, as he walked through the building, he could feel that Garcia was in her office, and that a number of the team was gathered in the bullpen. Gideon had explained that he would adapt to being able to sense the pack, and that his senses would sharpen in general with time and practice, but for the time being it was still felt a little like bathing in static electricity. Being around Hotch was particularly intense; Spencer felt like he could barely look away from him while they were in the same room, and sometimes he was certain he could hear the sound of Hotch's voice even when Hotch was in his office and Spencer was in the staff kitchen or in the bullpen.

Spencer had spent a full three days worrying that he was hearing things before Garcia had looked up when they were both standing in the kitchen and mentioned that Hotch was really tearing into the the agent he was speaking with on the phone. Spencer hadn't been able to make out the details of the conversation, but he'd gotten Hotch's tone of voice loud and clear. When Spencer's expression of surprise gave him away, Garcia had simply wrapped her arms around him and told him to just ask someone next time.

"Do you have your go-bag, pretty boy?" Derek asked as soon as Spencer reached where their desks were situated.

Unable to stop himself from blushing, Spencer still wasn't sure how Derek had decided that particular nickname was appropriate, he looked away and dropped his satchel on his desk. "Yes, Gideon said to store it here. We have a case? I get to come?" he asked, both nervous and hopeful.

The team had gone out for a short case only a day after Spencer had arrived. Hotch had left him behind with Garcia because Spencer was still working his way through all of the paperwork and forms that came with joining a federal agency and wasn't yet authorized to do anything official.

"Hotch seems to think you're coming, so I'd say that means you're coming. Now, let's get up to the briefing before JJ has to repeat herself. Trust me, you do not want to be late to one of her briefings. It takes a lot of work to get back into her good graces," Derek said, slinging his arm over Spencer's shoulder and walking with him to the conference room.

Spencer tried to imagine JJ, who seemed so nice, as being someone to be feared. Deciding that Derek was probably just teasing, Spencer shrugged but didn't manage to dislodge Derek's arm. "Where are we going?"

"Lansing, Michigan," JJ said from just inside the conference room, handing them both files as they walked to the round table. "Two couples, both murdered within the last week. The lead detective wants us out there before there's a third."

Spencer sat down in between Gideon and Derek, opening the folder and looking at the crime scene photos that were resting on top of the stack. People murdered, sprawled on the floors of their living rooms and kitchens, the struggle leaving the area surrounding them in disarray. Swallowing with determination, because this was his job now, Spencer turned past the photos and began reading the reports the detective had sent. He used his hand to keep his place as he read through the first page and moved onto the next.

"You're actually reading, aren't you?" Garcia asked as she sat down across from them.

Spencer looked up to find the team watching him and ducked his head. "Yes." He supposed that he should be used to the stares that came when he recited things from memory or read quickly or did calculations in his mind.

"That's so cool," Garcia said, without any trace of sarcasm.

"You're unreal, kid," Derek added.

Spencer looked up again, a little surprised when he found only curiosity and interest instead of the disbelief and hostility that had been directed toward him in the past.

"JJ, if you're ready," Hotch directed.

JJ pointed the remote to the screen that dominated one wall of the room. "Six days ago, a neighbor walked past the front window of the Wilken's household and called the police when she saw this. Three days later, a similar scene was discovered in the home of Liam West." She clicked the remote again and brought up a second photo.

Spencer focused his attention on the briefing, determined that he would help catch this person - this unknown subject, in the words of the team.

"There isn't a pack or pride that works with the Lansing police department, but that isn't reason to be sloppy. Be aware when crossing local pack territory and if it becomes necessary to approach a shifter, do not do so until I have formally introduced our pack. Wheels up in twenty minutes," Hotch said. He made sure he had the attention of each member of the team before standing and leaving the briefing.

Following Derek out, Spencer grabbed his jacket and go-bag from his desk, feeling tugged in half a dozen directions as the team hurried through the building and out to the SUVs that would take them to the nearby airfield.

****

"What do you see?" Gideon asked.

Spencer turned slowly as he looked around the kitchen. The bodies of the victims were still on the floor; the man on his back with his arms splayed open, and the woman curled on her side with her face hidden in her arms. He couldn't help but turn back to her and notice how she was almost to the living room. Maybe she had almost escaped. He looked up when he heard Derek opening a door in another part of the house, wondering what else there was to be found.

They had started working the case as soon as they'd landed the previous afternoon, spending the evening visiting the scenes of the first two murders, and Spencer had watched and listened, trying to learn as much as possible. They'd spent the night at the police station, Spencer working on creating a geographic profile - something he'd spend almost a full day reading and learning about when he'd been left at Quantico while the rest of the team was out - while listening as the team examined evidence and worked out a preliminary profile. It hadn't been six in the morning yet when they received news that another couple had been murdered.

Now that it was almost noon, Spencer was doubly glad he'd skipped breakfast and that he was used to pulling all-nighters when he got involved in research and forgot to go to bed.

"Spencer, focus. What do you see?" Gideon asked again.

Spencer brought one of his latex-gloved hands up and rubbed absently at his ears. As the case progressed, and the more time he spent in close proximity with the pack, the harder he was finding it to push away the sensations he was receiving from them. Gideon's voice had once again become encompassing and Spencer had found that he couldn't even work in Hotch's presence any longer. He'd finally withdrawn to a side room in the police station in order to concentrate on the geographic profile. "She was trying to get away. The unsub killed the man first, and then went after her. The unsub didn't see her as a threat," he said, kneeling down to examine where a shelf containing a small selection of pottery had been knocked over.

"Why wasn't she able to escape? If there is only one unsub, and they are occupied with killing or incapacitating the man, why didn't she get further?" Gideon asked, stepping carefully around the remains of a half finished meal that had been knocked off the kitchen table.

Noting where the woman must have stumbled into the shelf to account for the array of shards, Spencer stood up straight again and walked back to where the man was centered on the floor. It felt a little surreal, to be standing in someone's home and looking down at their corpse. Spencer had never seen a dead body in person at a crime scene before. He'd looked at the photos, even gone to the morgue to watch the examiner point out the various injuries that a victim had sustained, but this was somehow different. "The unsub killed her to get her out of the way, he wanted to spend time with the male victim," Spencer said, his voice sounding distant to himself.

Spencer nearly stumbled when Derek's hand fell on his shoulder, his feet just barely missing the edge of where a glass had been broken and spilled wine over the tiles.

"Let's go outside for a bit," Derek said, his voice almost as invasive as Gideon's had been.

Letting himself be guided out of the house, Spencer sat down on the steps that led into the backyard. It was chilly, and it took Spencer a moment to remember that he'd left his jacket back at the police station. He took off his latex gloves, the added sensation against his hands bothering him more than he'd realized, and shoved them in his pocket before pressing his face against his hands.

Derek dropped down to the ground a few feet away, far enough that Spencer could feel his presence without it suffocating him.

The silence, only broken by the rustle of branches and leaves in the early autumn wind, was a welcome relief. Spencer listened as his heart rate slowed back to normal and looked up and out at the clouds crawling across the sky.

"Do you want to go back inside?" Derek asked after ten minutes or so had passed.

Spencer got to his feet, realizing that he did want to go back inside. He had been overwhelmed, however briefly, but it wouldn't happen again. He could do his job.

"Thanks," Spencer said, a little embarrassed that Derek had seen him so out of sorts.

"It happens to all of us at one point or another and it will again, probably when you least expect it. The important thing is to realize when it's happening," Derek said.

They walked back into the house together, Spencer immediately noticing details he'd missed when he'd entered the kitchen for the first time and hadn't been able to see anything but the bodies.

*****

The team had spent the afternoon at the police department finishing the profile and making the necessary preparations. A short time after they'd returned from seeing the new crime scene Spencer had emerged from the room where he'd isolated himself and pinned up a carefully colored and outlined map. Derek had seen plenty of geographic profiles before, but they were usually done by computer and were less definitive.

Spencer had pointed at the area traced in red, with a darker red rectangle nested inside, and said that was likely the neighborhood, and the darker red the possible block, where the unsub would attack next. Gideon had stood a moment later, examining the map before turning to the rest of the team and added that it would be tonight. Derek had never really appreciated Jason Gideon's flair for the dramatic, but both Spencer and Gideon were proved right in their assessments. Aaron had made the call to deploy the team in the neighborhood along with several units in unmarked cars, leaving JJ and Spencer waiting for them back at the police station.

Derek swore under his breath as he took off running around the side of the house. He hadn't needed Aaron's warning over the radio that the unsub had escaped out a window, but it was good to know that Aaron and Gideon were coming around from the other direction. His feet skidded on the gravel beneath him and Derek wished the cloud cover that had rolled in over the evening wasn't blocking any light he could be getting from the stars and moon.

He turned the corner into the spacious yard and came to a stop, trying to catch any movement that would indicate if the unsub was still running or if he had hidden in order to double back when the path was clear. At least here Derek could see how easy it had been for the unsub to slide through one of the basement windows; they'd never found a point of entry at two of the crime scenes.

About to radio Aaron and suggest that maybe the unsub had gone back inside, Derek had just enough time to turn around as the unsub leapt on him from the roof of the nearby tool shed. They both went to the ground, Derek shouting as the knife that had been intended for his neck sliced into his upper arm instead. The fight was over quickly, Derek first knocking the knife away, then using his legs and unwounded arm to push the unsub off of him and pin him down against the damp ground. His arm was throbbing and he could smell his blood dripping from the wound.

The unsub moved like he was trying to push Derek off, his hips and torso briefly rising off the ground.

"Stay still," Derek said, his voice almost a growl. He wanted to shift, he always dealt with pain better in his wolf form, but he settled for pressing his knee into the unsub's back and reaching for his radio. "I've got him, round the back of the house."

"Right here," Aaron replied immediately.

It took a moment for Derek to realize that the answer hadn't come from his earpiece, but instead Aaron and Gideon were only a few feet away as they raced around the corner of the house.

"I've got him," Gideon said, bending down to cuff one of the unsub's wrists.

Derek stood, watching as Gideon finished handcuffing the unsub and pulled him to his feet.

"Are you alright?" Aaron asked, briefly distracted as a pair of local police officers hurried to help Gideon remove the unsub, but then focusing his full attention back to Derek.

"Fine," Derek said automatically. He tentatively shrugged his shoulder to make sure the damage wasn't worse than it felt originally, not quite able to stop the gasp for air that accompanied the movement.

"There are EMTs waiting on the street," Aaron said, placing his hand on Derek's unwounded shoulder to guide him as more first responders came into the area carrying lights. "Somebody bag that knife."

Under most circumstances, Derek would have pulled away from Aaron's touch when they were in a public space, but he knew that Aaron didn't handle any of his pack being injured well. Aaron's touch was helping him resist the urge to shift, which Derek needed if he was going to last through letting an EMT prod at him for a few minutes. "I'm fine," Derek said again, reminding both himself and Aaron.

Aaron didn't reply except to tighten his grip like he knew that Derek was fighting not to shift. "We'll stay in the hotel tonight. Focus on me."

Derek nodded, trying to ignore the way the blood had soaked through his shirt sleeve and was sticking thickly to his arm. Just before they reached the front of the house, Derek stepped into the shadows where they couldn't be easily seen and turned so that he could press his face down against Aaron's shoulder. He took a few deep breaths, barely registering Aaron's lips pressing briefly against his temple as he focused on the scent of his mate and pack leader. When Aaron's scent had mostly blocked out the scent of his own blood, Derek took a step back and locked his eyes onto Aaron's. He could make it back to the hotel now.

*****

It was after midnight by the time they were checked into the hotel, Derek only half listening to the phone conversation JJ was having as they walked through the halls to their suite.

"Tell her you're alright, she won't listen to me," JJ said with a huff as she handed her cellphone to Derek.

Derek smiled and held the phone up to his ear, knowing that JJ wanted to hear that he was alright as well as be told. "Hey, baby girl."

"I don't know why I let you out of my sight. You're gone for two days and someone stabs you!" Garcia said, letting both her indignation and worry bleed through into the words.

"I'm fine," Derek insisted, knowing that offering details of how many stitches he had received would only worry her even more. "We got the unsub." Derek could practically hear the frown in response to that.

"Next time let someone else kick down the door. I love you but I'm mad at you now; give me back to JJ," Garcia said.

"Love you too," Derek replied before turning to hand the phone back to JJ and discovering Spencer watching them both with a very confused expression. "What?"

Spencer blinked and then shook his head. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Derek laughed, his mouth twitching in a grimace when he jostled his arm against his bag. "Sure, just keep saying that," he teased as he tried to keep any indication of pain from his voice. From the way Aaron glanced back, he hadn't entirely succeeded.

JJ hung up her cellphone and dug through her bag to pull out the envelope with the keys to their room. "I got one suite as usual. I figured that Gideon and Spence could share the room with two beds, and I'll take the pullout in the main room."

"That's fine," Gideon agreed as Spencer nodded.

Derek watched as Aaron and Gideon's eyes met, knowing that their silent exchange meant that they had also noticed the scent of another pack in the city. The hotel was out of the local pack's territory, JJ would have made certain of that when making the reservations, but none of them would be willing to stay in separate hotel rooms when there was a pack or a pride anywhere close by.

Aaron set his bag down outside of the door to their hotel suite, Gideon moving to do the same and undoing the zipper that kept his weapon hidden inside his jacket. Usually it would be Derek accompanying Aaron as they checked the rooms, but with his shoulder he wasn't going to be able to draw his gun as quickly or fight as effectively, and sometimes seconds was all it took. He took up his position at the side of the door and kept his eyes sharp for anything moving in the hallway. Other people, other agents even, might consider their routine a little bit paranoid, but one close call had been enough to ensure that they never went in somewhere they were going to stay without checking the rooms first.

Derek noticed how Spencer was standing with his head tilted toward the side, one ear directed toward the door. "You can hear them in there?" he asked, more than a little curious. Spencer was young enough that his senses would still be adjusting, but this was the first time Derek had seen any evidence of Spencer's shifter enhanced senses manifesting.

"You can't?" Spencer asked, looking confused.

Before Derek could answer, Aaron came back and pushed the door the rest of the way open. "We're clear. Jet leaves at eight tomorrow morning, get some sleep," he said as he reached down to get his and Gideon's bags.

"Goodnight," Derek called to the rest of the team as he adjusted his own bag again, the throbbing in his arm making itself known. He could see through the open doors which bedroom only had one bed and when he glanced back he saw Spencer giving the suite a considering look from the kitchen.

"Goodnight," JJ replied from where she was digging through her own bag on the couch. Spencer gave a little wave before he followed Gideon into the other bedroom.

Derek shook his head and smiled, amused despite himself, and closed the door to the room he was sharing with Aaron. He could hear Aaron washing his face and brushing his teeth in the bathroom, and Derek considered it for a few seconds before he sat down on the edge of the bed instead and dropped his bag to the floor.

It had been a long two days without more than a few hours of sleep, his arm ached, and he felt the tug to shift pulling at him again.

"Go ahead. Jason and I are both alert," Aaron said as he sat down next to Derek on the bed.

Derek reached to the side and intertwined his fingers with Aaron's. "You shouldn't have to be," he said after a long moment. It felt like a weakness, to need to shift, even though he knew that he could control it if he had to.

Aaron moved closer, waiting until Derek leaned toward him as a signal that he was welcome in Derek's space. He kissed Derek's forehead and then leaned down so that he could rest his nose and mouth against the crook of Derek's neck. "You've never had any trouble coming back when you need to. And if it comes to it, I'll put a leash on you and take you home on the jet."

"You wouldn't dare," Derek said, mostly playfully, and turned so that he could rest his head against Aaron's.

Aaron sat with him for a few more minutes before he leaned back. "Your choice. If you want to wait until we're home and have some down time, you can."

Derek leaned down to pull off his shoes, already knowing that the choice had been made for him. He could wait for what would probably be another twenty hours, and stay awake all night because he didn't want to accidentally shift while he was asleep. But, if he did that, Aaron would wind up staying awake as well, and probably worrying while he was at it. And twenty hours was a generous estimate; if they got called out on an emergency case - they didn't like to take cases back to back except in unusual circumstances, but it had happened before - he would be a liability to the pack and the team. Everyone was on the same page where that was concerned; team and pack took precedence over everything else. No exceptions.

After removing all of his clothes, Derek examined his stitches and knew that they would tear open during the shift, but it would hardly matter. The healing abilities of shifters were greatly exaggerated, though it did vary from shifter to shifter, but when Derek shifted back to human form in the morning the wound would be closed enough that restitching shouldn't be necessary.

Derek climbed up onto the bed and let himself shift. Memories of the transformation were always hazy at best, and for the most part it was almost like closing his eyes as a human and then reopening them as a wolf. Letting out a small whine, Derek lapped at the wound on his front leg, nosing at it until he felt hands directing his muzzle away. Scenting the man as pack, Derek settled onto the bed closed his eyes.

When Derek shifted back in the morning, feeling greatly more settled in himself and in far less pain, he had the vaguest memory of standing in the main room of the suite while Spencer watched from the doorway to the other bedroom. Examining his arm in the mirror before bandaging it, Derek decided that it was probably a misremembered dream, because he couldn't have possibly gone wandering in the night without waking Aaron.

*****

Almost three weeks after the case in Lansing, Spencer found himself walking into the gym two floors below the BAU. It was a little overwhelming, even though there were only a handful of agents working out just before the lunch hour. It was enough to remind Spencer of his own unbalanced body that lacked the sheer muscle power the rest of the agents seemed to embody. Folding his arms uncomfortably, Spencer found where Derek was stretching at one end of the gym and walked over. He couldn't tell if the prickling he felt at the back of his neck was because he was being watched by agents as he passed or if it was the physical sensations of being near the pack flaring up again.

"I reserved one of the side rooms, it's the most privacy we're going to get without being here before sun-up," Derek said as he pushed himself to his feet. "And believe me, I do not do before sun-up unless there is an unsub to catch."

Spencer smiled uncertainly. He still wasn't very good at figuring out when Derek was joking, or Garcia for that matter. Hotch and Gideon were a little easier; they very rarely joked so it was usually a matter of assuming that they weren't.

The side room was nothing more than an empty space with a mirror along one wall and mats on the ground. When Derek dropped back down to the floor again to resume his stretching, Spencer got down on the floor as well and copied his movements as best he could. He was a little embarrassed when he noticed that Derek had slowed down so he could follow more easily.

"I teach some of the basic hand to hand classes at the Academy when we're in town, so don't worry; I know what I'm doing," Derek said as they stretched.

"I hadn't thought that you didn't," Spencer replied, a little confused.

Derek smiled as he pushed up onto his feet and bent down to plant his hands on the floor. "I know. But what I'm saying is that I know how to train people. I'm not just going to come at you like you're an unsub and expect you to defend yourself."

Spencer's eyebrows shot up; he hadn't imagined Derek would do that, though he didn't have a very clear picture of what exactly they were going to be doing.

"For example," Derek continued, "if an unsub is coming towards you, and you're unable to defend yourself, what should you not do?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Spencer got to his feet and dusted his hands on his ill-fitting sweatpants. "I shouldn't just stand there."

"Exactly." Derek stood up straight.

Spencer didn't bother to repeat that he hadn't expected the man to lunge at him, or to point out that no one the team had thought the man was the unsub until he'd tried to make a run for it.

It had just been Spencer's bad luck that the unsub had decided he was the easiest way out and had slammed into him. Or maybe it had been the unsub's bad luck that Hotch had shifted and landed on the man only a few feet away from where Spencer was sprawled on the ground.

Aaron had bared his teeth, only inches away from the unsub's neck, and his front paws had pinned the unsub's shoulders to the ground. Unsurprisingly the unsub hadn't fought back at all and had been more than happy to let Derek handcuff him. As soon as the unsub had been handed over to the local police department, Aaron had bounded away and had returned twenty minutes later in a different suit and still looking a little wolf-like in his irritation.

Aaron, whom Spencer had immediately identified as a Gray wolf, was only the second shifter Spencer had ever seen take their form. In the hotel suite in Lansing, Spencer had been shocked when he'd slipped into the kitchen in the early morning to find Derek sitting in the entryway in his sleek wolf form - an Eastern Timber wolf, if his research was correct. Spencer had watched Derek for a few minutes, their eyes meeting before Derek turned his attention back to the door that led out into the hall. Spencer had retreated with the understanding that Derek felt it necessary to stand guard over the pack.

"All stretched and ready?" Derek asked.

Spencer tried to push aside all thoughts of how much of a disaster this was going to be. He knew he wasn't the most coordinated person, not when he routinely dropped things or stumbled over his own feet just in the course of walking down the hallway. But being able to defend himself and others in the field was part of his job and he had to do the best he could to learn the skills that had evaded him for his whole life thus far. "I'm ready," he said, trying to believe it.

Derek grinned. "Alright, now hold your hands out like this, and I'm going to slowly come towards you. Ready?" he asked, holding his own arms up in demonstration.

"Ready," Spencer said again, mimicking Derek. By the fourth time he'd been thrown down to the mats, Spencer felt considerably less ready, though Derek was still enthusiastic about the 'progress' they were making.

*****

Spencer's hair was still damp from his shower when he made his way to Garcia's office. After they'd finished training, Derek had taken Spencer out to lunch at one of the local coffee shops that catered to the federal buildings. Spencer considered the chocolate muffin and large coffee that Derek had bought him fair recompense for throwing him to the ground for nearly a solid hour, though by the time they were done Spencer could neatly deflect Derek's forward momentum almost every time. It was a long way from actually subduing an unsub, but maybe he wouldn't get shoved to the ground next time an unsub came barreling towards him.

When they'd returned to Quantico, Derek had parted ways with him in the lobby, pausing to ask Spencer if he'd extend the invitation to Garcia for team night at Hotch's house on Friday evening. Spencer had stammered, but Derek had said that she'd know what he was talking about and to just let her know that it was this Friday. Reluctantly, Spencer had agreed, getting a solid pat on his shoulders that had very nearly made him cringe in response. He knew that Derek meant well, probably as some fraternal manly way of expressing his affection through physical contact, but Spencer had felt more and more unsettled over the last few days - ever since they'd returned from Sioux Falls where he'd seen Hotch's wolf form.

He'd made it through the training session mostly because he'd been focusing on avoiding Derek's touch, but now that they were finished and back into the routine of the day, Spencer felt like his skin was prickling uncomfortably. It had made him feel sick enough that he had only finished part of his sandwich and had wrapped it up to take with him at Derek's insistence. Derek was a little bit funny about pushing food at him over the course of the day and JJ and Garcia had both gotten in the habit of handing him food whenever he ventured into their offices. Spencer knew he was thin, bony even, but how much he ate had never seemed to make a difference.

Spencer paused outside the door to Garcia's office, wondering if he could get away with just poking his head inside and letting her know before fleeing up to the bullpen. He shivered and rubbed his free hand uncomfortably over the sleeve of his sweater. For some reason Garcia's presence, who he could now sense quite easily, seemed particularly pressing at the moment. Maybe after he spoke with her, he'd go back to his desk and then spend the rest of the afternoon down in the records basement. He had quickly learned that most agents spent as little time down there as possible; maybe it would help him get his senses back under control if he spent some time alone.

He knocked and then pushed the door open, knowing that Garcia probably wouldn't answer and the door would be locked if she really didn't want anyone interrupting. "Oh," Spencer said, briefly at a lose for words.

Garcia was sitting on her couch, not an uncommon occurrence though she usually had a laptop or two by her side, but JJ was on the couch too, with her head resting on Garcia's shoulder and her eyes closed. There was a brightly knit blanket spread over both of them and the remains of whatever they'd packed for their lunches on the table next to the couch.

Spencer took a step back, both a little bit stunned at seeing them so comfortable together and feeling guilty for intruding on what was clearly a private moment. "Sorry. So sorry. I'll come back later! Or I can just email you, or write you a note."

"Spence, what is it?" JJ asked. Her eyes opened just long enough to land on Spencer before she closed them again.

"Come in and close the door," Garcia said quietly, wiggling her fingers on the hand that she had wrapped around JJ's shoulder.

Deciding that this was probably a 'girl thing', because he'd never seen two male coworkers cuddle at work before but had seen plenty of girls resting on each other at the university, Spencer slipped inside and closed the door. Even if it was a 'girl thing', someone would probably frown on cuddling taking place inside a federal building.

"Derek wanted me to tell you that Hotch is having team night at his house on Friday. He didn't say the time, but he implied that you would know," Spencer said quickly, staying close to the exit. Being closed inside the same room as JJ and Garcia felt like he was pressing up against a bubble of static - the same feeling he'd felt in the hallway but only more intense.

"Oh good, it's about time," Garcia said. "You guys have been away on weekends more often than not lately."

"There are sugar cookies on the table, take a few," JJ said, her eyes fluttering a little.

Spencer held up his sandwich defensively. "I just had lunch with Derek."

"Take some for later," Garcia suggested in the tone of voice that meant it was a command and not a suggestion. That voice even worked on Hotch and Gideon, at least when it came to things like computers and sampling various bakery items that she made and brought in.

Spencer carefully picked up one cookie from the top of the basket, and when Garcia raised her eyebrow he took a second as well.

"Consider your message delivered, and tell my sweet thing that I approve of his methods," Garcia said.

It took Spencer a moment to realize that her 'sweet thing' was Derek, before he nodded and fled the room. Garcia was awesome, geeky in all the right ways - she was the only person he'd been able to have an in-depth conversation with about science fiction since he'd left Cal-Tech - but she was definitely easier to handle in smaller doses. The two days he'd spent with her when he'd first joined the BAU, and the rest of the team had been on a case, had been a little bit harrowing regarding the sensations he received from her and JJ's presence had only amplified those sensations.

He made it to his desk in the bullpen and slumped down into his chair, noting that Gideon and Hotch were both in their offices; Hotch's door closed, though his blinds were open, and Gideon's door open as he paced inside. Derek returned to his desk only a few minutes later, his ear pressed to his cellphone as he listened thoughtfully to whatever the person on the other end had to say.

Spencer could still feel JJ and Garcia in Garcia's office, though he couldn't separate them into individual presences, and he felt like he was being pressed against in all directions. Hotch was speaking quietly, and it took Spencer looking up before he realized that Hotch was still in his own office and was speaking into his phone. Gideon's footsteps seemed loud, even though Gideon was in his own office, and Derek almost seemed like he was shouting.

Warm and dizzy, Spencer got to his feet and walked to the bathrooms that were in the main hallway that connected to the BAU bullpen. He made it as far as one of the sinks, planning on splashing some water on his face, when the ground rose up to meet him instead.

*****

Section Two