❝Those who escape hell, however, never talk about it and nothing much bothers them after that.❞

CHARLES BUKOWSKI

✩

1.2 : better me than them

OR

season 4, episode 3 : minimal loss (ctd.)

(tw: abuse, mentions of abuse)

"WHICH ONE OF YOU IS IT?"

Spencer and Fin's heads jerk up almost in sync. It's Cyrus, and he is pissed. He saunters past the benches, turns around, unbuttons his shirt, and pulls a gun out of his waistband. "Which one of you is the FBI agent?"

Shit shit shit. How in the hell did he find out? It's not hard to maintain a shocked expression; Emily and Fin aren't struggling at all.

"Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?" Spencer asks, his hand covering Fin's instinctively, out of Cyrus's sight.

Cyrus makes eye contact with him and Fin almost shivers at the look he gives Spencer. "God will forgive me for what I must do," he says quietly, and then he cocks the gun and levels it at Spencer's head.

Oh, my god. Fin bites down on her lip to keep from screaming, "Shoot me!" Maybe Spencer can talk this out a little, stall him.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Spencer replies calmly, but his hand is shaking; Fin can feel it. Across from them, Emily's mouth is wide open, her eyes scared.

"One of you does." Cyrus' finger is way too close to the gun's trigger for Fin to feel comfortable. "Who is it?"

Emily opens her mouth, but Fin's way too quick. "Me."

Both Spencer and Emily's heads whip around to stare at her, openmouthed. Fin takes advantage of their surprise to play it up, make it more real. "It's me." She squeezes Spencer's hand, feigning regret. "I'm sorry, I know I should've told you, but I couldn't."

Cyrus studies her face, then slowly, ever-so-slowly, he lowers the gun. Fin breathes a sigh of relief-until he grabs her by her hair and drags her off the bench. Pain shoots through her scalp and she scrabbles at his hand with her nails, hoping vainly to pull him off-

Spencer leaps to his feet, lunges toward her, but two burly men with rifles push him back down, and that's all Fin sees before Cyrus drags her into a storage closet and slams the door.

Better me than them. Better me than them. This is Fin's mantra as Cyrus looms over her. She's prepared for him to do the worst, to touch her-but he just sighs. "'For nothing is secret, that shall not be made manifest; neither anything hid, that shall not be known and come abroad.' That's from the book of Luke, the words of the Christ, you sinner."

And then he shoves her into the wall, making sure her head hits first.

Fin wakes first. Spencer's arm is still draped over her waist, his head in the crook of her neck. She thinks it's cute, but when she tries to move, he wakes up-and he is absolutely mortified. He apologizes over and over and over again, swearing that he never wanted to touch her that way or take advantage of her and how can he make it up to her-and then shuts up when she tells him that she had no problem with it, that she was cold and didn't mind.

"Get up," Cyrus growls, watching Fin struggle to stand. The minute she's on her feet, he punches her in the face, sending her staggering into a mirror. It shatters into a thousand pieces, piercing her face, her hands, her neck, daggers of glass embedding themselves in her skin.

The door opens and Rossi steps inside, holding a box of medical supplies. Cyrus takes the box from him and Cole pats him down. Raising his arms in the air, his gaze flits to where Emily, Spencer, and Fin are sitting. Fin mouths, "We're okay," to him, and he gives her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse away evil," Cyrus says, kicking her ribs, her head and neck. Better me than them. I've been through worse. I can do this.

Fin knows Hotch and the others are listening, they have to be, so she tells them, tells them she's okay. "I can take it."

"Oh, you can take it?" Cyrus scoffs, then slaps her hard across the side of the face. His blow stings, burns, sends her into the metal shelving. She crumples to the ground, her whole body aching, throbbing, stinging, and an old memory resurfaces without her permission.

The summer everything changed. Fin is fourteen. She kissed a boy. A cute one, behind the gym at school. Mom heard about it somehow.

Oliver walks into the room, his shirt oddly lumpy and misshapen. Fin doesn't remember him being that tall. Was he that tall? He shuts the door and lets the bandages and gauze fall out of his shirt. "You okay?"

Fin nods, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "Fine." She'll learn later not to cry.

"You fought back, didn't you?" Oliver asks her, unrolling the bandages.

Fin says nothing. She isn't good at lying. Not yet, anyway.

"Hazel, you know better. You gotta just let her win. It'll be over faster. Hold still. This won't feel good."

She hisses as the hydrogen peroxide hits the cuts on her arm, but she doesn't move. "When is this all gonna end, Ollie?"

Oliver sighs, his normally bright eyes a stormy, worried gray. "Someday I'm gonna take you far away from her, Hazel bear. You and Lars. And she'll never be able to hurt either of you again."

This is the last time they ever talk about the way she hurts them again.

This is the last time Oliver ever calls her 'Hazel bear'.

Fin swallows hard, buries that memory deep down inside her. "I can take it."

Cyrus looks her up and down, scoffs again. "Pride comes before the fall." And he punches her, right between her ribs-Fin knows he bruised them badly-and throws her to the ground.

Fin aches all over. She just wants to sleep. Her ankle is throbbing, it hurts to breathe, and her nose is dripping blood. Better me than them. Better me than them.

Cyrus is saying something to someone outside the door, but Fin doesn't care. She closes her eyes, welcomes the darkness that follows.

✩

Two hours later, nothing feels better. Well, Fin's nose has stopped bleeding, but that's about it. Cole bursts into her room, gun in hand, and yanks her up off the bed wordlessly, shoving her down the stairs.

Vaguely, she hears Cyrus's voice coming from the chapel. "...that they no longer love us, that they want to abandon us..."

The chapel comes into view through a doorway. Cole shoves Fin against the wall and steps out of the way, moving into Cyrus's line of sight.

Across the room, Spencer and Emily spot her, and Spencer beelines for her. Fin winces, shifting her weight off the ankle she knows is sprained. He's gonna be so protective, and she doesn't know if she can handle that right now.

Cyrus is calling out names, those that were unfaithful to him earlier. Fin almost forgot about the "poison"; it was a trick to find out which of his followers were willing to die for him or not.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" Fin whispers to Spencer, watching Cyrus. "He looks really pissed."

Spencer doesn't say anything, swallows hard, eyes wide. Fin knows he's looking at the blood and the bruises and she has to say something. "It's really not that bad, Spence. It's-"

His fingers brush hers gently and his eyes never leave hers. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, and it breaks her heart.

Fin gives him a small smile, even though it hurts to smile, and moves so that Cyrus can't see her take his hand, squeezing it gently. Better me than them.

Emily hurries over to them. "Look at who he's releasing," she says quietly, although her gaze is the same as Spencer's: horrified, combing Fin's face, her hands, the way she moves.

"Yeah, it's the ones who failed-"

"The loyalty test," Spencer finishes, nodding slowly. Cyrus is moving up the aisle, closer and closer to Fin, Emily, and Spencer.

Spencer takes one last look at Cyrus, then leans over to Fin and whispers, "We'll get word to the team. Wait for a sign from outside to indicate what time the raid will come."

Fin nods, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her ribs. It seems to get worse when her heart rate is up. "Okay. Wait-Spencer."

He turns back to her immediately, eyes on hers. "What?"

"Please be safe."

Spencer's gaze softens and he nods, before turning back and following Emily toward Cyrus. Fin hears his soft voice: "I told her she shouldn't have lied to you like that." Good boy. He can really act when it comes down to the wire; Fin admires that about him.

Cyrus levels his gaze at Fin, who returns it defiantly. There are benefits to playing the liar; she doesn't have to pretend to like him. "To either of us." Cyrus jerks his head at Cole. "Take her back."

Cole grips her upper arms roughly and shoves her up the stairs. Spencer and Emily disappear beyond the doorway, and Fin can almost swear she saw Spencer looking back at her, but it's too fleeting to tell.

She lies there, on the cot upstairs, for what feels like days, although she can see by the little light coming through the blinds that it's only been a few hours. Wait for a sign. Wait for a sign.

Luckily, this gives Fin plenty of time to plan. While her back and ribs are aching and her wrists chafe against the ropes they've bound her with, she figures out how she'll get the women and children out, and finally, after the sun's gone down, she can get the message to Hotch and the others.

Carefully, slowly, she lifts her foot and presses up on the blind with the sole of her shoe, pushing it up. Wincing, Fin leans up and says, "I know you can hear me and I know there's a raid coming. I have a plan to get the women and children down to the tunnel, but I need to know what time the raid is."

She waits a few seconds, lets her head and neck rest, then sits up and repeats herself. One, two, three seconds, and again. Fin says the same words over and over. She knows someone's listening, and she gives them time, knowing Morgan's probably outside with a laser about to write a message on the wall. Predictable.

During her sixth message, a red laser shoots through the hole she's created with the blinds and lands on the wall. Bingo. Fin almost collapses in relief, her neck aching from the position she's in. "Okay, okay. I see you. What time is the raid?"

The laser blinks once...twice...three times. "Three a.m.?" Fin asks. "Is that it?"

The laser bobs up and down, like it's nodding. Okay, we can do this. Fin sighs quietly. "Okay. I got you. Spencer and Emily are on the first floor somewhere with Cyrus. And please, please don't forget there are women and children. We have to get them out first."

Footsteps echo down the hall toward the door. "Someone's coming," Fin says and drops her foot, closing her eyes. The laser blinks once more and disappears.

The door opens and Jessie's mother-Kathy, Fin remembers-walks into the room, carrying a glass of water. Suddenly Fin's incredibly thirsty. She does her best to sit up without help, kicking her legs over the side of the cot, and Kathy holds the glass to her lips. Oh, my god, I love water. Fin drinks as much as she can, and when she's finished, she looks directly at Kathy. "Cyrus is planning a mass suicide."

And when she doesn't answer, Fin realizes something else. Her body language, the way she looks at Cyrus, the whispered phone message- "You made that 911 call, didn't you?"

Kathy closes her eyes, screwing up her face in pain and regret. "This is all my fault," she whispers. "None of this would have happened if-"

"Stop." Fin shakes her head. "You were trying to protect Jessie. She's your daughter; you have that right. Don't ever blame yourself for that."

"There were other girls before her," Kathy says, avoiding Fin's eyes. "He would marry them in secret, and then, after a while, he'd take another. And we weren't permitted to speak of it." She swallows hard. "And so, when she asked for my consent, I wanted to just take her and run. But I was afraid she wouldn't leave him."

"You were willing to let us take her away from you?" Fin asks, frowning.

"I wanted to save her from Cyrus." The way Kathy says this, so matter-of-fact; the way she would give up her daughter just to protect her... Is this what a mother's love is supposed to look like?

Tears spring to Fin's eyes and she blinks quickly, trying to clear them. "Kathy, the FBI is coming at three a.m. They're going to raid the compound. I need your help to get Jessica, the children, and the other women into the basement before that."

Kathy's shaking her head quickly, mouthing silently, looking almost manic. She stands up, walks toward the door. "Why-why are you telling me this?"

Fin takes a deep breath. She has to say the right thing; the lives of the other women and children depend on it. "Because I know that you are one of the strongest women I've ever met, and you were willing to do the right thing for Jessica before. I'm giving you the chance to do it again."

Kathy stares at Fin like she can't believe what she's hearing, then opens the door and disappears through it without another word.

Fin closes her eyes and falls back onto the bed, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. Now all she can do is hope and pray that Kathy does the right thing.

Sleep comes on her without warning, and it's fitful. She can't tell how many hours she has until three a.m., and she dreams of fire and explosions and darkness. It sucks.

Then the door to her room bursts open and she almost falls off the bed. "What the hell-?"

"You were right," Kathy rambles, dropping to her knees and scrambling to untie her hands. "They're setting the place to blow up. I told Jessie Cyrus wanted her to gather the women and children." She helps Fin stand up, brushing the dirt from the back of her sweater.

Fin's heart is beating fast in her chest, her hands shaking. She knew this was going to happen, but somehow, it doesn't seem real. "Where are the man and woman I came in with?"

Kathy has to pause and think about this. "Uh, they're in the chapel with Cyrus. It's two-forty-five, though; we have to hurry." She grabs Fin's hand and drags her out the door. Fin's ankle screams as she follows Kathy, almost sprinting down the hallway toward the stairs.

The women and children are in a room off the hall, all huddled against one of the walls, children clinging to their mothers' hands. A few of the women have babies, some sleeping, some wide awake and observant. It's a blessing that none of the children are crying.

Together, Kathy, Jessica, and Fin shepherd them quietly down the stairs, all the while hoping to God they don't run into any of Cyrus's men. Fin wonders if her ankle really has gone numb or if it's just the adrenaline numbing her brain. Probably the adrenaline.

When they reach the hatch in the school room, Fin sends a silent thank you up to the heavens and takes the lead, stepping in front of Jessica and hurrying down the stairs. Better me than them.

Her foot catches on the last stair and it takes her by surprise. Shit. Flailing, as if in slow motion, she tumbles forward, about to land facefirst on the hard concrete floor-before a pair of strong arms catch her and pull her into a FBI-vested chest.

"Fin!" Morgan's eyes are relieved; he searches her face, cups her cheek in his hand. "Fin, are you okay?"

"Fine. They've wired explosives, Derek." She pushes herself away from him, beckons the children forward, toward the other agents in SWAT gear. Get the kids out. The kids first. Kathy and Jessica are doing the same, closer to the stairs.

"Where are Prentiss and Reid?" Morgan asks, his hand a vice on her upper arm.

"They're in the chapel with Cyrus," Fin says distractedly, watching a girl, not much older than ten, stumble past with a baby in her arms. She wonders vaguely if she's one of Cyrus's wives, too. God, this man is evil.

"We've got to get you out of here." Rossi's voice in her ear brings Fin back to her senses.

"No way. Emily and Spencer-"

"Fin, I will get them," Morgan says, his voice serious, commanding. "Get out of here. Take the kids to safety."

Be safe. Please be safe. Fin hates to leave, not when Spencer's upstairs with that maniac- But how much help could she be? So she does as Morgan says-until Jessica explodes behind her.

"He's my husband!" she shrieks, yanking herself away from Kathy and dashing toward the stairs.

"Hey!" Morgan shouts, shoving past the other agents. Fin darts after him, heart racing. No, Jessie, no-

And she's gone up the stairs, just like Nancy. Morgan holds Kathy back, pushes her into Fin. Kathy's screaming, screaming for her baby, her daughter, scrabbling at Fin's arms as she pulls her toward the door. She's a good mother. A great mother.

"I will get your daughter for you," Morgan says, in the same tone of voice he used with Fin. Kathy stops struggling, lets Fin pull her back toward Rossi. "Rossi, get them out of here."

Fin focuses on the ground in front of her, Rossi's hand in the small of her back, her grip on Kathy. These are her rocks, her foundation. As long as she has these, she can run, run away from where Spencer and Emily could die-

The tunnel winds up after what feels like hours and then there's fresh air and starlight and Fin can breathe again-

She stands at the mouth of the tunnel, shepherding kids and mothers and babies out, until Rossi drags her away, toward an ambulance-

And then the compound explodes.

It's a massive, fiery inferno.

Debris flies everywhere.

It burns, burns, burns.

Where is Spencer?

Emily?

Morgan?

Jessica?

Rossi's arm is tight on Fin's wrist as he guides her away from the compound. She catches a glimpse of Hotch's slackjawed expression as he stares up at the burning building, gun held loosely in his hand. And when Rossi lets go for just a split second, she takes her chance. "Spencer! Derek! Emily!"

No answer.

Fin runs up a few steps. "Emily! Spencer! Derek!" Say something.

Nothing.

Oh, my god.

"Spencer?" Fin whispers. She's yards away and the fire feels like it's burning her skin. "Emily? Derek?" They can't... They just can't be-

And then three shadowy figures emerge from the side of the building, coughing and limping. But Fin would know those shadows anywhere. Thank God, thank God, thank God.

"We're okay." It's Morgan's voice, hoarse from smoke, but it's Morgan's voice.

Relief hits Fin so hard she actually staggers, but once she regains her balance, she takes the steps two at a time-in her mind, she leaps them all-until she reaches them. Spencer's hair is full of soot, he's bleeding from a cut on his hand, and he's coughing like mad, but he's alive. He's alive, alive, alive.

Fin doesn't wait for him to say anything at all, just wraps her arms around his neck tightly and holds on for dear life. He smells of smoke and burnt fabric, but Fin could care less. He's here. That's what matters. "You're alive," she whispers into his sweater. "You're alive."

His hands press into the small of her back, his face buried in her shoulder, and he nods. "I'm alive."

When he lets go, Fin realizes her cheeks are wet and she's ashamed of it. She scrubs her face with her sweater sleeve and walks into Emily's open arms. "You did so good," Emily says, squeezing her tightly. "We would never have made it out without you."

Fin can find no words to describe how she feels, and maybe it's better that way. So she just buries her face in Emily's shoulder and hides the tears trailing down her face.

When Emily lets go, Fin realizes the adrenaline's worn off and almost falls down the rest of the stairs, so Morgan and Spencer half-carry her to the ambulance, where the medic assesses that she has a sprained ankle-no shit, Sherlock-and a few bruised ribs. She's lucky.

Jessica pressed the kill switch.

Fin can't bring herself to say anything, so she just holds Kathy while she cries. I know how you feel.

The car ride back to the airfield is silent.

✩

The plane ride is also silent. Well, sort of. JJ's asleep on one of the couches, her hand resting on her belly; Hotch and Rossi are talking in low tones over full mugs of coffee; Morgan's listening to music with his eyes closed; and Fin and Emily are sitting together on the sofa opposite JJ, playing hangman lazily without talking much.

Fin's eyes drift over to Spencer. He's down at the table, reading a book, but not very quickly. It's smaller than Crime and Punishment, and he's been on the same page for at least ten seconds-which never happens.

"You should've seen him," Emily says in a low voice, circling the man's head slowly with her pen. "He was livid when Cyrus took you. When you said you were the FBI agent."

"Well, obviously, I-"

Emily shakes her head, giving Fin a look that clearly says 'listen to me'. "I've never seen Reid that worked up before. Ever. He would've torn those guards to pieces if he could have." She jerks her head toward Spencer. "He feels responsible, you know."

"For what?" Fin frowns.

"What happened to you."

Fin opens her mouth, but Emily's not finished. "I know you're about to ask why he'd think that, and to be honest, Fin, I don't know. Because he's a guy, because he's a gentleman, because he cares about you-who the hell knows? You should go talk to him."

Fin looks over at Spencer again, chewing her bottom lip. I volunteered; why does he feel responsible?

Emily bumps her foot urgently. "Move your ass!"

"Okay, okay!" Fin stands up, flipping the bird at Emily, and walks cautiously over to where Spencer's sitting. Her ankle's still sore, but it's wrapped and she was able to take some Advil, so it's better now.

She slides into the seat across from him. "Hey, Spencer."

He glances up from his book and his eyes soften when he sees her. "Hey." And then he's back to the book, although Fin has a sneaking suspicion that he's not really reading it.

After a minute, she reaches across the table and takes it out of his hands, laying it flat down on the table and meeting his eyes. "Spencer. I need to talk to you, and please hear me out." She lets go of the book, takes his hands in hers.

Deep breath. "What Cyrus did to me is not your fault. I chose it, Spencer. I chose to be the one he blamed and I would do it a thousand times over again."

Spencer's eyes never leave Fin's, nor do his hands move in hers. But he doesn't reply.

"Do you understand, Spencer?" Fin asks, leaning closer. "I don't care that he hit me. It happens, okay?"

His lip trembles and Fin can't help but feel a twinge of sadness for him. He looks down at his hands, avoiding her eyes, and she has to find a way out of this awkward moment, something to say-

"I mean, it's not like I haven't been hit before. Honestly, I'm used to it." And she laughs. She laughs.

Spencer's eyes snap up to hers, every trace of sadness gone. "What?"

Shit shit shit shit shit. Backtrack it, get out of here. Fin has to find a way to fix this. So she laughs. Again. "I meant, uh, combat training. You know, getting thrown around-"

"No. You didn't." Spencer's sweet doe eyes search hers, concerned, worried. His hands are tight around hers.

He knows. He just read everything in your eyes, you dumb bitch. Fin curses herself for trying to be vulnerable, because that never works, it always ends up this way- But she composes herself, puts on a brave face. "Look, Spencer, just... It's not a big deal. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep this between us." He doesn't know who hit me, so that's a start.

Spencer's expression is reluctant, and he looks like he wants to argue, but then he just sighs, nods once.

"Thank you," Fin says, squeezing his hands and leaning back into her seat. Shit. And then she realizes. "Spencer, all this week you've been holding my hands. What about your germ thing?" He's a germaphobe, everybody knows it. And yet-he's been nothing but touchy to her since this thing started.

Spencer looks up at her, shrugs humorlessly. "You were more important." He slides his book back across the table and is back to reading.

The plane ride is silent the rest of the way home.

~

........i am so sorry. well, sort of. i had a lot of fun writing this hehe, but i apologize for the emotional damage it caused. *hands you tissues*

i really love fin & spencer's relationship development, like they're both super clueless but also like they're friends now!! yay!!

eeeeee and 700 reads???? holy shit that's amazing! you dumbasses are the coolest <3 and i mean that with love

new updates soon! *blows you kisses*