Chapter Text
The first time Spencer Reid saw Derek Morgan, his mind catalogued every move he made. It said: too fast, too smooth, too predatory.
Then of course he found out that half his team were werewolves and everything made sense. You know, as much as finding out that while you had three PhDs you had never known that there were such things as mythical creatures made sense.
Two years in and he barely noticed the difference anymore. Sure, Hotch would actually growl when any of the team even thought of disobeying orders and JJ had had to control herself more than once when some asshole got too up in her face when talking to the press. But it also meant family and feeling at home when he’d never felt that before. It meant that despite being human, he wasn’t the odd one out this time because their little group was made up of misfits and everyone loved each other.
“The thing about being a profiler is that even when we literally sniff out the killer, we still look like we just did a really good job,” Morgan said, grinning, canines this side of too sharp when he got excited like this.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “You can’t always rely on your other senses to help you. That’s why you need Emily, PG and I.”
Garcia grinned, winking. “Boy wonder got it in one. What would you have done if you were human, brown sugar?”
“Charmed my way into every suspect’s pants and made them confess,” he declared.
“That is both disturbing and disgusting,” Emily declared, swinging her feet up onto her desk as she leaned back in her chair. “That would mean you had a serial killer fetish.”
“It would be rather surprising. Does he have the fetish for the killer himself or for what he does? Did you know that 17 percent of women and 9.5 percent of men have fantasies involving blood? Surprising that woman have the higher percentage, don’t you think?”
Garcia raised a brow. “Yeah, I am not even going to be offended by that. You’d think that after seeing that nasty shit seven days a month, you’d get tired of it. Oooh, do these women get off by seeing their period? I mean, we are hornier on our cycle so it makes sense.”
Hotch coughed and everyone jumped, looking guilty as they sat up straight in their chairs.
“Sometimes, I worry about the conversations that I walk into,” he said, exasperated. “Anyway, we’ve got a case.”
* * *
“Do you think there’s actual blue grass around there?” Garcia asked, the sound of her chewing gum loud through the speaker.
“The town has 1200 people maximum. What are they even killing people for?” JJ asked, shaking her head.
“Actually, violent crimes in Blue Grass are 4% higher than the national average. Now this could be because the town is smaller and therefore statistics would show higher should any crime take place but it has been cited that the crimes are not just violent, but gruesome. Unfortunately, police have yet to arrest anyone for any of the deaths,” Spencer informed them, feet tucked under him.
Emily sat up in her seat, the rumble of the jet background noise by now. “Why call us in now?”
Morgan sighed, staring at the photos in his hands. “Because someone finally spoke up. Some of these murders have been in cold case boxes for years. No one has bothered to look into them.”
“Until Officer Venesh realised that it’s been one every few years,” Hotch continued, filling in the conversations if he’d been the one talking.
That was how it was amongst the team, especially with the werewolves. Sometimes it was like they had one mind and their thoughts flowed from one to the other.
Spencer knew that he was jealous of the dynamics sometimes and he shared a look with Emily that showed she too wished she knew what it was like. Then he frowned. “How old is Officer Vanesh?”
Hotch grinned. “That was quick of you, Spencer.”
Morgan chuckled. “Are you even surprised anymore, Bossman?”
Hotch rolled his eyes. “He’s a new recruit. Young, curious and bored, he’d gone through old files when he’d just started and picked the M.O up the moment the last body was found.”
Emily raised a brow. “And he managed to bring enough attention to it that we got called in?”
Hotch rubbed a hand over his head. “The latest murder was the mayor’s brother.”
Well, that made sense then.
They arrived in record time, Spencer and Emily heading straight for the station while the werewolves took a quick tour of the area, instinct demanding that they canvassed their surroundings before allowing the vulnerable in their pack to walk out and about. The one time Spencer had declared it unnecessary because, excuse everyone but he’d survived two decades without such protection thank you very much, he’d received more than a few growls. He’d just shrugged and left it after the that.
The station was more deserted than they expected but those that were there welcomed them with open arms which was hardly surprising. Small town cops tended to idolise the FBI and were proud to show everyone around.
The rest of the team were back in half an hour, introducing themselves and making themselves at home, Officer Vanesh with a proud smile on his face for having discovered the gruesome connections.
Emily lifted a folder. “What I don’t get is how did no one realise these were connected? Every victim’s heart was cut or ripped out. Shouldn’t that be something that stood out?”
Spencer nudged his glasses up. “I was wondering about that and would you believe that a year after every murder, there was a change in captain.”
“What?” Hotch asked, turning around. “Do we know what happened to them?”
Spencer shook his head. “Not that I could figure out. We’ll have to ask-
“Already calling her,” Morgan said, lifting his phone to his ear. “Baby girl.”
“Chocolate thunder! Now that is a voice to hear on one’s break.”
Morgan grinned. “Need you to do me favour. Look up Blue Grass PD and find out what happened to their captains in,” he turned to Spencer, putting the phone on speaker “a year after every murder?”
Spencer nodded. “1992, 1998 and 2003.”
“Got you, honeybun. So,” there was the loud sound of clacking before, “Captain Jay Richards had a heart attack and retired after the doctor recommended it.” More clacking. “Captain Keith Derrell got shot in a hunting accident and retired due to feeling unfit for duty and Captain Henry Unger, oh Jesus. Shot himself in the head. Well then.”
“Where do the first two captains stay now?” Hotch asked, brows furrowed.
“Both retired and moved away. One’s in Dallas, Texas and one’s in Siesta Key, Florida.”
The confusion in the team was evident. Why live all your life in a small town like Blue Grass then move halfway across the country for retirement?
Emily sighed heavily. “This case is getting more intriguing than anything.”
“Thanks, Baby girl.”
“Anything for you, handsome.”
Morgan cut the call and dropped into an open seat, his movements relaxed and not as calculated now that he was in company. Not that Spencer noticed. He just noticed everyone. These people were his family. He noticed a lot.
Spencer noted all the new found information on their whiteboard as Hotch gave instructions to the rest of the team to investigate who the victims were and why they were specifically chosen, Morgan was tasked with investigating the newest crime scene, Hotch going with him while Spencer was sent to the library to see what records the town kept on the other murders.
“Garcia was so angry that there was nothing on the net about them,” Morgan said, grinning as he grabbed his jacket to head out.
Spencer found himself smiling back. “Even I find it surprising that nothing had been documented about them. But not even they can hide from the local newspapers. There should be something in the library.”
Everyone split up, organising to meet up in two hours back at the police station. Spencer made his way to the library by foot, the town small enough that all government buildings were a couple of blocks from each other.
The librarian was a quiet old man who barely grunted in acknowledgement when Spencer entered but it didn’t bother him. He preferred not to speak to anyone he didn’t need to and it wasn’t like he needed help. Libraries were his second home when he was younger and he knew his way around them.
It took him twenty minutes to gather everything he’d thought he’d need but less than half that time to read through everything relevant before he sighed and dropped back.
The murders had definitely been reported, the town’s one and only newspaper reporting the seemingly only interesting story for a few days until suddenly the story stopped being covered. Something about that just didn’t sit right with him and he sat up, suddenly grabbing the articles again. Each journalist was different. He needed to see if-
“Hello handsome.”
His head snapped up as someone sat down, uninvited, in the seat next to him. Spencer cleared his throat as he looked at the man. He was smiling, rather sinisterly to be honest, but seemed genuinely interested in Spencer. Something about him didn’t sit right with Spencer though but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Uhm hello.”
“You’re not from around here, are you? Little Blue Grass definitely doesn’t make beauties like you.”
Spencer frowned. “Actually, the perception of beauty is subjective - people can have differing opinions on what is beautiful. So what one person perceives as flawless and captivating might be ordinary or unappealing to another. That does not mean that Blue Grass does not have beautiful people, rather that not many are appealing to your sight.”
The man’s grin grew and Spencer didn’t fail to notice how he leaned towards him. “Beauty and brains. Colour me floored.”
Spencer frowned harder and opened his mouth to correct the man but his eyes widened when the man placed a finger over his lips.
“Shh, let me flirt with you a little, gorgeous. I don’t bite.”
A hand slammed down onto the table in front of Spencer and they both jumped as Morgan’s glowering face came into view. “But I do. So get away from my boy and find yourself someone else to play with, wolf.”
Spencer’s eyes widened as he saw Morgan’s eyes begin to glow and his canines flashed, sharper than usual. He snapped his gaze to his unexpected company and swallowed as he saw the man’s eyes glowing slightly in response, a growl starting in his throat.
Morgan stepped closer to him, his hand sliding into Spencer’s hair at his nape, fingers of his large hand curling around the back of his neck, caressing his pulse point softly. Spencer had to suppress the deep shiver that threatened to leave him, swallowing as the soft caress went straight to his groin. “I said leave.”
The man’s eyes narrowed as he stood up but then he grinned and lifted his hands up. “Sorry, didn’t realise he was claimed.” His eyes moved to Spencer and he winked, stepping back when Morgan’s growl grew louder. “See you around,” and he walked away, the off-thing about him jumping at Spencer now that he knew. The man walked like Morgan. Like a were.
As soon as the man turned a corner, Morgan’s hold tightened on his nape and he swung around to face him. “You okay, pretty boy?”
He had to force himself to speak because the touch was driving him a little crazy. Morgan was a tactile person and it had taken him time to get used to but there was something different about this touch and Morgan had still not removed his hand.
He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, uhm yes. I was fine. You didn’t need to be so aggressive, Morgan.”
Morgan’s eyes flashed again. “You’re pack. Can’t have someone disrespecting that.”
Spencer frowned. “You don’t have a problem when I get hit on in the bar.”
Morgan finally released him and sank against the lip of the table, legs crossing at the ankles and folded his arms. “That’s because they don’t have a chance and it’s harmless. This was a wolf disrespecting pack rules.”
Spencer frowned. “What?”
Morgan sighed and rubbed a hand across his head. “I, well, you obviously can’t smell it but you, baby girl and Emily, spending the time that you do around us, you’re pack too.”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned.”
“Well, it’s not just by name. When you belong to a pack, you smell like them too. Every wolf with a nose would know that. So hitting on you like that, especially when none of us were around, was a blatant sign of disrespect. Especially because I’m guessing that he didn’t introduce himself or even tell you he was wolf.”
Spencer shook his head. “No, he didn’t. There’s a lot of rules, huh?”
Morgan grinned. “It’s a common courtesy, like knowing that you don’t urinate in public because it’s indecent or not wearing your sleep clothes to a wedding. Etiquette that you just know because that’s how community is.”
Spencer nodded, understanding what Morgan was trying to say. If you grew up as a wolf amongst wolves, you would know.
“What are you doing here anyway? Didn’t Hotch say to meet back at the police station in two hours?”
Morgan nodded. “Yeah, but he sent me over to see if you found anything. It didn’t take long to foray the scene and Hotch is still there. So, pretty boy, tell me what you found.”
Spencer showed him the articles. “They were covered for a short while then the story suddenly stopped running. I’d have to go through all the newspapers after that to know for sure but I have a hunch. See how every reporter is different?”
Morgan, smart as he was, caught up immediately. “You think we have another case of disappearing captains?”
Spencer nodded. “We’d have to ask Garcia to check to make sure but…” he trailed, off, point already made.
His hunch was right as Garcia excitedly informed them that the journalists too had quietly retired but at least none of them had committed suicide.
Something strange was going on in the town.
* * *
Hotch returned half an hour later than expected and Spencer looked up as both Morgan and JJ turned to Hotch with frowns.
“What is it?” Spencer asked, feeling the tension in the air.
Hotch looked around. “Did you notice?”
Morgan grumbled and nodded.
Emily shook her head. “Notice what?”
JJ shrugged her shoulders uneasily. “How many wolves there are in this small town.”
Morgan twisted his head, looking uncomfortable. “That is, too many.”