Authoress Notes: Inspired by the film 'The Hitcher'.
Title: Hitchhiker
By: Clonksholic
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. Any original characters belong to me. I gain no profit from writing this, and do so solely to entertain.
Warning: Not recommended for ages under 18. Includes violence and sexual reference. Note the rating of the fanfic people. If stuff like that makes you uncomfortable, don't read it.
Summary: When Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss pick up a hitchhiker on a rural road on the way back from a case in New Mexico, a generous act turns into a fight for their lives.
Hitchhiker
Chapter 1
'Put the knife down, Boris.'
The unsub grinned and met the male agent's piercing gaze.
'Any reason why I should?'
The girl in his hands whimpered, eyes squeezed tightly shut as Boris' hand tightened around her neck.
'I've got several murder charges,' Boris continued, the corner of his mouth flicking up into a smirk. 'Plus the rape of seven, four of them –' He lifted the knife and pressed it against the girl's cheek, drawing blood. '– twelve year old girls. Just like this one here.'
Boris flicked his gaze up at the two agents who had their guns aimed at him.
'One more makes no difference.'
'No! –'
The knife slid through her throat, the swipe as smooth as silk.
Her body crumpled, eyes widening, the fear within them disappearing as her life drained away.
The two bullets that were fired almost at the same time as the knife slit her throat missed the man by only half an inch as he threw himself backwards, smashing through the large window behind him.
It was then that Hotch forgot to think; his body reacted, and he jumped after him.
He heard Emily yell his name, and realised why when he noticed the ground was miles below him.
He braced himself for the fall.
.
.
.
It had been a long and hard case.
The victims had all been killed, the guy relentless as he ran from him and Prentiss, after having performed his final kill before them in a mocking manner. And now he felt as if the pain in his neck and back from having wrestled the unsub through and down a glass attic window had all been for nothing despite having caught the guy. It was always harder to feel as if they had made a difference when none of the victims had been saved.
The team had split to take these two cases, and it seemed as it at least Morgan's part of the case had gone well; a child returned to their parents once again.
Some battles were lost with less than others in this line of occupation; Aaron Hotchner knew, but it was a fact that he found hard to come to terms with especially when a case had ended as badly as this one had.
But what could you do.
Aaron Hotchner sighed and leaned back further in his chair, brow furrowed in frustration. His eyes were closed in an attempt to shut out the nagging sense of dissatisfaction in his head. His neck seemed too tight so he loosened his tie in an attempt to ease its dull ache. He removed his blazer and tossed it into the back seat in a frustrated manner, his face crinkling in pain as his back and neck protested at the sudden movement.
The repetitive soft humming of the engine slowly lulled him into emotional numbness, of which he took comfort in. The drumming of the rain on the roof became more rapid and loud, and he heard the soft click of the windscreen wipers as Emily turned them on.
The road was dark, the high beam headlights the only clear sources of brightness that lit their way.
Emily gained a glimpse of the road sign that indicated that they still had around three hours to drive. She wasn't sure if Hotch planned on stopping by a motel on the way to sit out the rain, but she was beginning to find the idea appealing.
She decided to voice it, aware that her boss most likely would not answer until some time later. 'Do you think we should stop by the next motel?' The rain filled the silence and made her voice less awkward.
Hotch exhaled deeply and gave a nod. 'Yeah, that would be good.'
'I'll let Morgan know,' her sentence was cut short when she brought her cell phone from her pocket and realised that there was no reception.
'It's illegal to talk on your cell while driving.'
The corner of Emily's lips flicked up in an amused grin. 'Well, you can't arrest me on apparent intention. I also don't think you have enough for an official arrest, Hotch.'
She threw the cell phone onto his lap, prompting his eyes to flick open.
'No reception.'
She grinned and glanced into the rear view mirror. 'Saved by the bell.'
'Or the lack there of,' Hotch murmured, a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaned back into his chair.
Emily's soft laugh faded into a sudden silence as she paused, squinting into the darkness.
'What the hell?'
Hotch jerked up in his seat, refraining from a moan as his neck and back complained at his actions. He leant forward, squinting into the darkness as he tried to make out what Emily had seen.
A large dark shadow loomed ahead beside what looked to be an upturned car. 'What the...'
'Pull over,' Hotch instructed.
The SUV slowed to a stop a few metres from the figure, who now began hobbling in their direction with what seemed to be heavy steps.
'I want you to stay here,' Hotch said, cutting off Emily's words as she tried to protest.
'But –'
'Keep the ignition on.'
Before Emily could respond, Hotch slammed the door and headed towards the other vehicle in quick steps, feeling Emily's unwavering sharp gaze on his back.
The rain was heavy as it had sounded, soaking through his shirt he moment he closed the car door. It was only then he remembered he had taken his blazer off.
'You alright?' He called out hoarsely, attempting to shout through the rain.
He ran up towards the figure when he saw half of it fall to the ground, realizing that it had been two men, one being supported by the other.
'Please help me, sir,' the man called out, struggling to hold the other figure up. 'We crashed- and my friend-my friend wouldn't move!'
Hotch ran towards them in brisk steps, and assisted the man in lifting the friend to his feet. He repressed a groan as the weight suddenly intensified the pain in his neck, and struggled to ignore the pain in his back. He heard a chilling moan from the man beside him.
They might be too late.
'Get him to the car, we'll try for the nearest hospital,' Hotch shouted. The man nodded frantically, and they both dragged the man as gently as possible back to where the SUV stood.
Emily acted fast, unlocking the SUV doors immediately as the three men approached. Hotch opened one of the back doors, allowing the man into the SUV and placing his friend in the middle part of the seat. He then took the seat next to them in the back seat, motioning for Emily to drive the moment he shut the door.
'How's he doing?' The man asked, watching as Hotch felt for the friend's pulse with worried eyes.
Hotch side glanced at the rear view mirror, catching Emily's questioning gaze.
'I don't know. Would you happen to know how far the nearest hospital is?' He asked.
The man shook his head. His hands were shaking as he reached up to run it through his wet hair. 'Tom and I were travelling, we've never been down this way before.'
'Right,' Hotch gave a nod. He took the blazer and placed it over the friend, who was now silent and breathing softly. He only realised when the warmth began to make him aware of the dampness of his shirt that Emily had turned the heater on.
'What are your names?' Emily asked, glancing into the rearview mirror.
'This is Tom O'Connell,' the man replied, his expression softening. 'I'm John Dooley. Thanks so much for stopping…I didn't know what else I could do. We sat in the car for a while and –'
'It'll be okay,' Emily assured.
'Thank you,' John said again. Hotch watched as the man's gaze lingered for a bit too long on the female agent's face reflected in the rear view mirror. He surveyed the man's hands, which had stopped shaking. He watched in interest as the shaking picked up as suddenly as it had stopped, and upon averting his gaze he noticed that John had been aware of his gaze.
John offered a smile. 'Problem, sir?'
Hotch did not answer, but quietly unlocked his seatbelt when the man looked away.
The rain began to drum heavier onto the roof of the car, filling the silence that could have been awkward otherwise.
'So where are you guys from?' John spoke up once more.
'Virginia,' Hotch replied. He glanced into his cell phone quietly, only to find John craning his neck to see what Hotch had in his hand.
'Any luck on the reception yet?'
Hotch met his gaze, his glare in position. 'It's back,' he replied quietly.
'So you guys married or something?' John asked again. His voice was calmer, quieter now.
Hotch glanced into the rear view mirror, and realised that Emily also had noticed the change in his voice.
'Just work colleagues,' Hotch said.
John smirked, nodding in a condescending manner as he side glanced at Hotch. 'I'm guessing you're her boss?'
'Yes,' Emily replied curtly. 'He is.'
John's grin widened, and he gave an amused chuckle.
'So how long have you two been fucking?' His comment was casual, as if he had just asked about the weather.
Hotch watched as Emily stiffened in her seat, her knuckles tightening over the steering wheel.
John gave a soft chuckle. 'I don't blame you, if I had a subordinate like that, screw manners and protocol. Be fucking her brains out every chance I got.' He reached out towards the front seat, fingers curled as if to touch Emily's hair, when Hotch's hand shot out to intercept it, tightening menacingly.
John smirked, his hand still outstretched, meeting Hotch's glare. His gaze was challenging, mocking as he continued. 'Don't tell me you haven't been tempted, boss.'
He leaned in slowly, and when he spoke next his voice had turned soft.
'Don't tell me you have never wanted to show someone that you're in charge; watch as they squirm beneath you as you do whatever – you – want with them.'
Watching the interaction behind her from the rear view mirror, Emily slowly lifted her left hand from the steering wheel and lowered it to her waist, where she removed her glock from its case as quietly as possible and held it beside her lap.
'Is that what you did to Tom.' Hotch's voice had lowered to an intimidating growl.
'No,' John replied, his expression suddenly changing from amused to dangerous. His eyes flashed, his glare narrowing like those of a predator who had just spotted his prey.
'It's what I did to his wife.'
In the next second, Hotch felt pain shoot up his wrist as John twisted it, slamming his other hand against Hotch's head to smash it against the window. Intense pain shot up his neck and travelled down his back as if someone had shoved an ice cube down his shirt collar, causing him to hiss. As the impact induced a cloudiness to glaze over his mind, fusing into the pain in his neck, he heard the click of Emily's gun followed by a loud 'Show me your hands!' He felt a rough jolt as the SUV came to a sudden stop with a loud skid.
A metal nozzle of a gun pressed underneath his eye near his cheek. His head felt groggy, the pain in his neck and back now throbbing to match the thumping of his heart. He fumbled for his gun beside him, cursing inwardly when he felt John grab his hand and twist it once more, this time behind his back. His wrist was pressed further into the throbbing spinal area, and he felt his body stiffen in pain. He heard John speak in a menacing voice. 'Put the gun down or I'll pop your boss's eye out.'
'Not if I do it first.' He heard Emily say. Her voice was cold, the tone she saved on the suspects she apprehended within the interrogation rooms. He could almost see her piercing glare as her face would have shifted into an infallible expression. 'Hands off or I'll put a bullet through your head.'
Hotch cursed as a sharp twist forced a soft groan from his lips. Shit.
'Put the gun down and drop it at my feet.' John's voice came again. 'I'm waiting.'
'Is this how you did it to Tom?'
Hotch's gaze swiveled to Emily, who spoke who's gaze and gun did not falter at John's threats.
'You put the gun to his wife's neck first. You made him stop his car. It's how you intimidated him, isn't it? Not big enough of a man to take two people on at the same time, are you John.'
Hotch managed to suppress the next groan that threatened to sound as John pressed his arm further against his back. Little did he realise his focus on it would make the subsequent events more bearable.
Searing pain pierced through his foot following the sound of a firing gun. He heard himself yell in response, eyes instinctively swiveling towards the wound.
Pain seemed to tear away at him from all sides, overwhelming his senses.
'If you know what I did then you know I can do much worse than this.'
John stared down the gun, locking gazes with Emily, who did not budge.
'Shut up and give me your gun. You wouldn't want to hurt your boss any further, would you now?'
'That's in your hands now, isn't it.' Emily said coldly.
'No,' John said, chuckling softly. 'It all depends on you.'
.
.
.
'So this is why you never begged,' John remarked smugly as he opened the wallet he had taken from Aaron's pocket.
'FBI eh?' John met Aaron's glare through the rear view mirror. 'Is that why you weren't afraid, boss? You spend all your days catching guys like me, is that it?'
It had taken John less than a minute to get Emily to bind Aaron's wrists at gunpoint after having taken her glock, working quickly to exploit Aaron's incapacitated state. He then took his place in the seat next to her, keeping his head turned slightly to keep an eye on both Emily and Aaron.
John placed the nose of Emily's glock against her temple experimentally, running it through her hair. He watched as it failed to draw any emotional reaction from the female agent. Her expression remained emotionless as she kept her gaze on the road before her.
'So where do you keep your badge?' John asked, moving his head deliberately near hers, as if to obscure her vision.
She could feel his breath against her neck as he closed the distance between them.
'Don't tell me,' he said softly.
She felt herself stiffen slightly as his hand brushed against the collar of her blouse, coming to rest right above her chest, the tips of his fingers grazing the edge of her bra strap. She felt his hand go lower, a soft popping noise sounding as he jerked the top part of her blouse.
'It's more fun that way.'
The SUV lurched forward forcefully, propelling John against the windscreen and causing it to crack as Emily slammed her foot down on the breaks. The SUV skidded roughly, the sound resonating above the heavy rain. Almost at the same time Emily jerked the door beside her open, ignoring the onslaught of rain as she reached out towards the gun held in John's hand.
Only to find it wasn't there.
Shit.
Her eyes frantically scanned the floor of the car, then pushed herself out, and jerked the back door of the SUV open.
Rain was in her eyes, her mouth as she shouted Hotch's name, opening the back door to the SUV.
'Hotch you okay?'
She spotted his large figure on the floor of the SUV, the force of her sudden break having flung him from the seats, him being particularly vulnerable in his bound and injured state. The bindings around his wrists were already worn and thin, evidence of Hotch's silent struggles to free his hands while John had been speaking.
He wasn't responding.
'Hotch?'
She glanced at John, who still seemed unconscious as he lay slumped across the two front seats.
She reached down and fumbled for the glock 17 she knew her supervisor kept at his ankle. Just as she felt the smooth plastic of the weapon, she heard a click sound by her head.
'Looking for this?'
The familiar voice growled.
She turned her head and found herself staring down into the barrel of her glock.
'I've got two guns and you've got none. What's it you're gonna do?'
In the next second she realised she had two choices.
Run.
Run and leave Hotch, hope that John followed her and left Hotch alone.
Though the chances of that were unlikely.
She opted for the second option.
Play along.
'You win,' she said softly, raising her hands as if to surrender.
She knew that he would not knock her out. Not yet, at least. He was strong, but he was also meticulous; he would not risk having two people in the car with the risk of one of them freeing themselves once either of them regained consciousness. Him driving would mean he would be unable to keep an eye on them. He was narcissistic but certainly not stupid; she was sure he would not take that risk and that he would tread with caution, at least insofar as he needed her to drive.
Besides, she derived that he would gain more excitement from being able to taunt her as Hotch was incapacitated and was made to watch from the back. It would provide him the sense of power he craves.
'Get into the car.'
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