Danny couldn’t believe he was where he was about to witness… Shaking his head, Danny took hold of the hand that Mac held out to him and laced their fingers together as he repeated, “You don’t have to do this, Master.”
“I want to,” Mac replied, words he’d said before. “This is something I should have done already, if only to set your mind at ease.”
He watched Mac nod at the tattoo artist and the guy came at Mac with his ink gun, or whatever it was called. His gaze strayed to the practice drawings on several pieces of paper laying on the counter nearby. It was a stylized rendition of the Marine Corp logo with Danny’s name written over the world. Mac had told him late in bed the night before that it was to show that Danny meant the world to him and would always be anchored to him. It would be etched into the flesh above his heart, just in case the metaphor was lost on people.
It was the sweetest, most heartfelt gesture that Danny had ever been given in his life and he would treasure it always.
The final outcome was stained repeatedly with Mac’s blood, which the artist efficiently wiped away during his work and then covered with a bandage. The long haired man said, “You know the drill. Keep it clean and dry. See a doctor if it gets infected.”
Nodding, Mac stood and handed over a credit card. “Thank you.”
Taking the card, the guy grinned and replied, “Thank you.”
Mac snorted in amusement as he turned to Danny and asked, “How are you doing?”
Because everyone knew he was still skittish with Polsin still on the loose. Even though it was almost a month later and no one thought the man would come after either slave, Danny couldn’t help looking over his shoulder. It didn’t help that he was still on crutches, his ankle still healing and his mobility not very good. Until he was back to full strength, he knew that he’d feel vulnerable, even with Mac right beside him.
Offering a smile, Danny wrapped his arms around Mac’s neck and told him, “I’m great. You are…perfect.”
Mac half-grinned. “Not hardly, but thanks.”
The kiss was soft and lingering, prompting Danny to open to it with a contented hum of appreciation. A throat clearing broke them apart, but Danny kept hold of Mac’s hand as his Master signed the credit slip and took back his card. They left the shop and headed to the lab for the day where he would spend it in the security of Mac’s office, doing paperwork or studying. Danny had passed his equivalency exams just the week before and now was studying for college level biology. At Mac’s pace, unfortunately, so that meant only about two hours a day.
When they got there, though, a pretty woman with long dark hair and a ready smile waited. Mac looked surprised as he greeted warmly, “Peyton, what are you doing back in town?”
They shared a hug and kiss as she answered with a British accent, “Did no one tell you? I’m opposite Syd now.”
“I’m the last to know, remember?” Mac countered dryly. Putting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, he introduced, “Dr. Peyton Driscoll, this is Danny, my slave.”
She gave him an encouraging smile and said, “It’s very nice to meet you, Danny.”
“You too, Dr. Driscoll,” Danny replied, looking down at the floor. He felt totally in the way and useless with just the arrival of a pretty woman Mac was obviously very friendly with.
Mac’s hand curved down to rest on his lower back and he said, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, Peyton.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she agreed. “Good bye for now then. Good bye, Danny.”
Danny offered a brief smile while she left the door and tried not to ask about how Mac knew her.
As if sensing the turn his thoughts had taken, Mac tugged Danny in close and kissed him, soft and slow. Danny couldn’t help relaxing into it, one of his crutches falling to the floor as they made out for a long time.
Mac finally ended the kisses and told him, “Peyton and I were involved a long time ago when she was here on a work visa. That was even before Claire and we didn’t get very serious. You have nothing to worry about.”
Danny’s mouth twisted and he questioned, “That obvious, huh?”
“Maybe a little,” Mac teased, stealing another kiss. “I have to get to work, so behave. You can hang out with Aiden in the lab, if you want. No more than two hours of studying. I’ll see you later.”
Nodding, Danny accepted the crutch that his Master scooped off the floor and handed to him and then moved to sit behind the desk. He turned on Mac’s computer and started going through the emails requesting reports, printing everything out to be read later. That brought him to around ten and he took some time to grab a snack from the vending machine, hobbling back to the office for an hour of studying. He’d discovered that breaking up the studying worked best for him, letting the knowledge sink in.
By then it was almost time for lunch, so he locked up the computer and office and then headed for the lab. Aiden was working on something with trace, so he sat down and asked, “Lunch?”
“God yeah, I’m starving!” she exclaimed, not looking up.
It was a few minutes before she cleared up her area and put away whatever samples she was working on. They walked to the cafeteria and found a table where he proceeded to grill her about Peyton.
Aiden made a face and said, “That was way before I came along. I’ve only heard Stella mention her a couple times ever and it wasn’t real flattering. I could ask her, if you want.”
“Not flattering how?” Danny asked.
Shrugging, Aiden replied, “Just an impression on my part really. A tone she had. Like maybe Peyton hurt Mac. You know how overprotective Stella is about him.”
Danny did, that was for sure. He was there because of her being overprotective and wanting Mac to be happy. He nodded and said, “I wouldn’t mind knowing more about her. The way Mac reacted…well, she doesn’t seem like just an old flame, you know?”
Reaching across the table, Aiden gripped his hand as she replied, “Mac’s only got eyes for you, Danny.”
“I know,” he agreed. And he did.
But that didn’t mean other people didn’t have eyes for Mac.
* * * *
Mac looked down at the mangled body and shook his head. It used to be a woman, before someone cut off her breasts, shaved her head, and gouged out her eyes. He would bet that when Syd began his autopsy, there would be genital mutilation as well.
“Gruesome, I know,” Stella observed.
Sighing, Mac glanced over at her and confirmed, “This city’s getting worse every year. Sometimes I think about taking Danny and going somewhere else, a small town in the middle of nowhere. No crime, nothing for him to be afraid of.”
Stella gave him a sympathetic look. “Still having nightmares?”
Mac nodded and said, “I think the worst thing is that he honestly doesn’t remember them in the morning. Everything’s become jumbled up in his mind with no way out. The kidnapping, the professor, his time with Sonny, his suicide attempt…I don’t know which one’s messed him up more.”
Patting him on the shoulder, Stella commiserated, “It’s a lot for anyone to deal with. What about a psychologist? Therapy might help.”
“I think we’re there,” Mac admitted. “I don’t know what else to do for him. Do you know any good ones?”
Nodding, Stella answered, “Dr. Kerlin helped Aiden a lot after Pratt. I’ll email you her info when we get back to the lab.”
Taking that for an opening to stop talking about his personal problems, Mac said, “Thanks. Let’s get to work here.”
She gave him a knowing grin, but moved to get her camera.
Mac’s mind refused to be so easily swayed. As he took notes, pictures, and gathered evidence to find the sadstic killer, he kept going over the night’s he’d shared with Danny since getting him back. Aside from that first week where Danny had literally been chained to the bed, the younger man had consistently been having violent nightmares. It happened four or five times a week, interrupting Mac’s sleep as the slave flailed around on the bed. He invariably had to wake Danny with some kind of rough action, a slap or shaking, then soothe and calm him, and finally hold him until sleep returned. They were usually up for a good hour before Danny settled back down and it was playing merry hell with his nights; he was tired all the time now.
The crime scene took two hours to go through, thanks to the public dump site. It was an ally between two restaurants, which made for plenty of items that had to be collected just for elimination purposes. Flack wandered over when they were about halfway through to ask how long they would be. Mac let Stella give the cop a mini-rant, grinning as Flack backed out of the alley with his hands up.
By the time they got back to the lab and sorted through who got what, it was time to get something to eat. His office was empty, so he figured that Danny had gone to the cafeteria to eat and followed suit only to bump into Peyton again. He smiled and greeted, “This will probably be happening a lot.”
She smiled back and confirmed, “Inevitably.”
“What brings you back?” Mac
questioned, pressing the call button. “I seem to remember you describing
Chuckling warmly, Peyton replied, “And I stand by that, but I will admit that it does have a…unique draw to it.”
He held the elevator door for her and said, “Well, whatever brings you back, I’m glad to see you again.”
Pale eyes met his as she questioned, “Are you? We didn’t exactly leave it…well, we were both not very smart back then, were we?”
“No, I would have to say not,” Mac agreed wryly. “And yes, I am glad to see you again. Would you like to join us for lunch?”
Her eyebrows went up as she look around the otherwise empty elevator. “Us?”
Mac clarified, “Danny and myself. He’s already in the cafeteria.”
For a moment, she looked tempted, but then shook her head and replied, “Perhaps another time. I really do need to just bring something back and sort out my office so I can dive in tomorrow.”
“I understand,” Mac said as the doors opened.
They walked into the cafeteria together and Mac scanned the large room for Danny, finding him with Aiden against the wall. It was something the slave had taken to doing since getting back and Mac didn’t even think he consciously knew it. Sighing to himself, Mac bought a sandwich plate and brought it over to the two slaves after parting with Peyton at the register.
Danny looked up at his approach and a bright smile surfaced on seeing him. He made room and Mac sat beside him, putting his tray on the table as he asked, “You two staying out of trouble?”
Aiden grinned and replied, “Always, Mac, you know us.”
“That’s why I was asking,” Mac countered dryly.
Danny chuckled and leaned on him, questioning, “How was the scene?”
Mac made a face. “Don’t ask if you want me to eat my lunch.”
Danny’s hand rubbed up and down his back and he commented, “That good, huh?”
The light massage felt good and Mac relaxed slowly under it, unwrapping the food and listening as Aiden and Danny bantered back and forth about basketball. It probably hadn’t been the topic before his arrival, but that was fine. Mac didn’t need to know everything his slave was saying or thinking. It was a pleasant interlude and over all too soon. Mac stood and kissed the top of Danny’s head as he said, “I need to get back to work.”
“Me too,” Aiden echoed, standing. “Stella probably didn’t even bother to get anything for herself.”
Danny gathered their trays and asked, “Long night tonight?”
Mac nodded. “I’m going to assume so. Maybe the next few days, too. This guy isn’t going to be easy to catch. And I do not want you anywhere near the evidence or photos on this one, Danny. That’s an order.”
Danny looked like he was going to protest, his forehead scrunching into a frown, but then he replied, “I won’t, Master.”
Smiling, Mac squeezed his shoulder and said, “Thank you.”
As they walked out of the cafeteria together, pausing for Danny to ditch the trays, Mac wondered how long it would take before Danny disobeyed him and what he would do when that happened.
* * * *
The second victim turned up a week later and there was absolutely no progress on the first case. They’d found out who she was, learned all about her life, and even managed to put together a timeline for her final days, but there was absolutely nothing to link her to her killer. Everyone in her life had an alibi and she’d had no threats that anyone knew about, being liked by seemingly the whole world. There’d been no security cameras on the alley or even angling on the alley entrance.
Mac looked at the latest disfigured body and grit his teeth, knowing that things were going to get very bad, very fast. He’d seen enough serial cases to know that between the ritualized aspects or the killing and the complete lack of forensics, they weren’t going to find the killer without help.
“This is bad,” Stella murmured, standing beside him. “Another serial killer so close to the taxi cab killer? The Chief’s going to go nuts.”
Mac had a few choice words about their fearless leader, but kept them to himself. Instead, he confirmed, “We’re going to need help on this one.”
She gave him a surprised look and repeated, “Help? From who?”
As much as he hated to involve outside agencies, he said, “There’s a group inside the FBI called the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They deal exclusively with serials and I’ve heard they get excellent results.”
“It’s only the second case,” Stella pointed out. “We can still solve this one on our own.”
Mac sympathized with the desire to keep it internal, but he wanted to nip this one in the bud. Not just because of the horrible ways the women were being killed, but because he needed to focus on Danny. It was the first time his personal life had influenced a decision at work since he’d been married, but he knew it was the right one. Ultimately, their jobs were to get justice for the victim and if that meant swallowing some pride and asking for help, that was exactly what Mac would do.
* * * *
As JJ read the email from Detective Mac Taylor, the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She didn’t even need to see the crime scene photos, though she did anyhow. Printing everything out, she strode to Hotch’s office and knocked sharply on his door.
“Enter.”
She opened the door and walked in, beginning without preamble, “The Preacher’s struck again.”
Hotch stiffened and held his hand out for the file. “Where?”
“
He nodded shortly and agreed, “I know. Get everyone together in the conference room, including Garcia and Kevin.”
JJ left without another word. She made the rounds of the desks and told everyone they were needed in the conference room before calling Garcia and Kevin to come down as well. The techs were there a few minutes after everyone else and Hotch waited until they were seated to begin.
“
Both techs nodded seriously.
Hotch paused and then finished, “We have a real chance this time. It’s only his second victim. Depending on the verse he used, we could have up to eleven more before he moves on. Let’s find him before he gets to number three.”
Everyone nodded and then broke up, heading in their own directions to take care of business. JJ hurried to her own office both to let Will know what was going on and to make travel arrangements. When she looked back, it was to find Spencer and Hotch talking together by Hotch’s office. Neither of them looked happy, but then, they hadn’t since Gideon had left the year before. Even now, she felt bad for them both; they’d each been abandoned in their own way, though Spencer’s had been more the more obvious desertion.
JJ shook her head and got back on track. There were too many arrangements to be made for her to linger over old news.
* * * *
Aaron guided Spencer towards his office, a hand not touching the slave’s back, but close enough to keep him moving. They were uneasy and unwilling participants in a play not of their making. Even a year later, they maintained a charade of ease that had no basis in fact. Spencer didn’t trust him after being so thoroughly betrayed by Gideon and Aaron had lost his family in big part because he’d refused to send Spencer away.
The first few months had been the hardest on them. Spencer had given him the silent treatment at home and barely obeyed at work, responding mostly to Morgan. He’d even been better with Rossi than with Aaron. It hadn’t been until he’d temporarily lost his hearing in that explosion that Spencer had finally declared a truce in the private hostilities. The physical pain had been well worth the result, despite how hesitant they still were with one another.
“He’s going after women this time, but I want you to be careful,” Aaron said quietly, closing the door. “Don’t go anywhere by yourself. Stay with the group even at the police department.”
Spencer nodded, looking paler than usual as he agreed, “I will.”
Aaron didn’t blame him for the
fear, not after Spencer had nearly being abducted by The Preacher the last time
the group had encountered him in
“Do you know anyone in
Spencer shook his head. “Not personally, no. I’ve corresponded with a few professors at NYU over the years, but that’s it.”
Aaron filed that information away and said, “Don’t contact them. I don’t want anyone knowing that you’re there until we catch this bastard.”
“I won’t,” Spencer agreed, thin arms folding across his chest. “Hotch, what if we don’t catch him this time, either?”
It was the first time Spencer had expressed doubts to him about anything since Gideon’s departure and Aaron had no intention of wasting the opportunity. “Then we’ll hunt him whenever he resurfaces. We will catch him, it’s just a question of when.”
Nodding slowly, as if to himself, Spencer said, “I’ll go sign off and get our bags.”
“Take Morgan with you,” Aaron ordered.
Spencer gave him an odd look but nodded again and left the office, closing the door on his way out.
He let out an explosive breath and then shut down his computer. While he’d known logically that The Preacher wouldn’t stop until he was caught or killed, having a third batch of victims got under his skin in a way few things did. It pricked his conscience and his pride that so many had died at the hands of one man. A man they’d never been able to catch. It was shades of Frank all over again and that was not something they needed.
Reminders of Jason, he
thought sourly as he packed his briefcase. Reminders of
his betrayal and abandonment. That’s exactly what Spencer needs now that
he’s finally thawing towards me.
Aaron scrubbed a hand over his face and took a moment to regain his equilibrium. Anything to do with Spencer tended to shift him off-balance, especially if his safety was in question. The note that Jason had left when he’d given Spencer to Aaron had left little doubt in his mind that Jason wasn’t coming back; that he expected Aaron to take his place with Spencer in every way. The entire situation had shaken Spencer to his core, that Aaron also knew with little doubt. It had been the first time the younger man had been treated as the slave he was.
Shaking off the distracting thoughts, Aaron grabbed his briefcase and went to rejoin the others. It was going to be a long case and he wanted to get started as soon as possible.
* * * *
The flight to La Guardia passed in silence as everyone re-familiarized themselves with the previous case. Not that Aaron thought anyone needed it. It might have been a couple of years ago, but he was sure that it was as etched into everyone else’s minds as it was his. Having two new people with the team made them stronger this time around since it would lend them two completely new perspectives. He did wish briefly for Gideon’s presence, wanting to be as shored up as possible, but that wasn’t an option.
They arrived in the city around four that afternoon to find Detectives Flack and Angel waiting for them. He was tall and had a capable, friendly air about him that told Aaron they were going to find cooperation instead of getting static. Detective Angel was dark-haired as well, but didn’t seem to share Flack’s openness. Shaking hands with them, Aaron said, “We appreciate you meeting us, Detectives.”
“Not a problem,” Flack replied, confirming Aaron’s guess. “Mac said you’d want to go right to the crime scenes.”
Nodding, Aaron confirmed, “Some of us. The rest will go to your precinct and look through the evidence collected.”
Flack looked at Angel and then said, “Detective Angel will bring your people to the lab. I’ll bring you to the scenes.”
Aaron looked at his own people and said, “Rossi and Prentiss with me. The rest of you go to the station and set up.”
They followed the cops out of La Guardia to two SUVs where Aaron had a moment’s hesitation with his hand on the door. There were no terrorists waiting to blow him up and he knew it, but fear momentarily choked him and made him freeze. A brief, gentle hand over his back snapped him out of the fog. Startled, he looked over to find Spencer standing beside him.
“I’ll see you later at the station,” Spencer murmured before continuing on his way.
Aaron didn’t even get a chance to thank him. He climbed into the SUV passenger’s side without further delay and buckled up.
Once they were on the road, Flack said, “So you’ve come up against this guy before.”
It was an invitation for
details and Aaron accepted it. “Two years ago, yes.
The local media in
“Why unfortunately?” Flack questioned.
It was amazing how many times he had to explain the same thing over and over again. They really did need to start some sort of profiling outreach to local LEOs. Aaron explained, “Because once a moniker sticks in people’s minds, it’s difficult to accept other aspects of the same killer. The Preacher, for example, brings to mind a certain archetype that is, in actuality, incorrect.”
“Like, some redneck from the south going around spouting off about hellfire and damnation.”
“Exactly. In reality, The Preacher is a high-functioning, white male who may or may not be religious at all. The verses are a way of communicating, but not his only way.”
Nodding as he changed lanes, Flack said, “How come we didn’t connect his earlier crimes to these?”
Rossi spoke up from the back seat with, “Different group of victims, same M.O.”
Frowning, Flack asked, “So, what…he’s changing who he goes after?”
Aaron nodded and confirmed, “He’s evolving. There were two previous sets of victims before your group. We came on during the second cycle. In the first series of killings, he left behind substantial evidence, but disappeared before it could be tied to anyone. Whether he killed between then and his second series, we don’t know, but it’s likely. After almost being caught that first time, he honed his craft because in the second series, we found no substantial forensics. It was only the mutilations that linked the killings.”
Flack grimaced as said, “Mac said the guy’s like a ghost, forensically speaking. They went through everything with a fine-toothed comb and got squat.”
“That fits,” Aaron replied. “I think now we’ll only catch him through the changes he’s undergone in the last two years, the difference between then and now.”
Rossi added, “He will make a mistake, it’s only a matter of time.”
Sounding grim, Flack countered, “How many people die until then?”
To that, no one had an answer. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before they’d arrived at the crime scene, which was still cordoned off with the familiar yellow tape. It was in a very public venue, situated in an alley where anyone could walk by and see The Preacher at work. Already, a very large difference from before.
Coming to stand beside him, Rossi said quietly, “He’s getting a hell of a lot bolder.”
Aaron gave him a look and replied, “Do you blame him? We didn’t even come close to him last time and he almost took Reid.”
Rossi touched his shoulder briefly and they ducked under the tape almost in sync.
* * * *
A knock at the door startled Danny and he looked up to find a large black man standing in the doorway with a petite blond woman. They were both sober-faced and wore badges in obvious places. Danny erred on the side of caution and moved to kneel beside the desk as he greeted, “My Master is out in the field right now, can I help you?”
“This is SSA Derek Morgan and I’m Special Agent Jennifer Jarreau,” the woman replied. “Is there someone in charge with Detective Taylor in the field?”
Danny nodded. “That would be Detective Bonasera. I can take you to her, if you want.”
“Yes, please.”
Standing, Danny kept his eyes down as he walked by them and then lifted them so he could look for Stella. She could be in any one of the labs at that point in the day working trace from what Mac had called a serial case. Danny was still shaken over the last one, given how close it had struck to home. He liked Reed, liked the way the kid loosened Mac up a little, getting through those walls of his. Not that he kept many things from Danny, but it wasn’t good for Mac to be so reserved all the time with everyone else.
Danny found her working side by side with Aiden, the two of them working opposite sides of the same room. He paused at the lab entrance and said, “Stella? These are FBI agents to talk to you.”
She glanced over at him and then beyond him to where the agents stood. Stella said something to Aiden, who nodded, and then pulled off her gloves, throwing them in the hazardous waste bin before striding to him. She petted his shoulder and said, “Why don’t you spend some time with Aiden? Just keep clear of everything, we don’t want any accidental contamination.”
Danny nodded, knowing it was an order and not a suggestion. He traded places with her, hearing them all trade names and then the voices faded into the hallway.
Aiden grinned at him and opined, “Wait until the case really gets going. Then neither one of us will see them for days at a time. I remember this one case just before you came on that I spent sleeping in Mac’s office while they went around the clock.”
“Well, and not like Mac’s the kind to take it easy,” Danny countered, sitting on a stool to the side. “He was like this when Reed was in trouble, but I thought it was because Reed was in trouble. Does he react this way with any kind of big case?”
Aiden started working again, bending to the microscope as she replied, “For as long as I’ve known him, yeah.”
Danny had figured that would be the answer. “Hey, I’m going to head back to Mac’s office and grab get in some studying. Unless you need something?”
“I’m good,” Aiden told him, flashing him a smile. “Go study.”
Danny was heading back to Mac’s office when Stella’s voice called his name from a conference room. He swiveled mid-step and turned into it to find the two agents plus three more putting things together.
“Danny, good, I’m glad I caught you,” Stella greeted. “Can you do me a huge favor and be the agents’ gopher? I don’t think Mac would mind as long as you stayed in the building, but I’m going to call him and make sure it’s all right.”
Nodding, Danny accepted, “Sure, no problem.”
All smiles, she exclaimed, “Great! Agent Morgan here will fill you in on what they need. I’m heading back to the lab.”
Danny kept lowered his eyes to the floor as she left and waited to find out what he’d be doing.
“Okay first? No need to watch the floor around us,” a man’s voice rumbled. “Hard to work with someone who’s counting floor tiles.”
Looking up, he found Agent Morgan standing a couple feet away and said, “Sure. So um, what do you need first?”
Morgan pointed to a curvy blond woman dressed in a bright red sweater over a flowered dress. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head and a shiny gold chain linger the base of her throat. “That’s Garcia. She needs as good a tech connection as possible. Access to the best of everything.”
Danny nodded and replied, “That, I can do.”
He walked over to her when she started picking up multiple cases and took a few from her.
“Thanks,” Garcia said, balancing three cases in her arms and hurrying after him. “Really, I just need a T3 line and I can do the rest.”
Danny smiled at her as he said, “I’m going to hand you off to Adam. He’s the gizmo guy around here.”
“How’re things for us here?” she questioned.
He led her down the hall and said, “It’s fine. Me and Aiden are the only slaves on the team, but no one takes advantage. Mac’s kinda formal, so you’ll want to tone it down around him, but everyone else’s pretty casual.”
They reached Adam’s area and Danny introduced, “Hey yo, Adam. Got someone to keep you company.”
Adam looked up from his computer and smiled broadly when his eyes lighted on Garcia. “Hello.”
Danny snorted. “She’s someone else’s, so down boy. Garcia here needs to set up some kind of technical thing. You can help her out with that, right?”
Nodding, Adam agreed cheerfully, “Sure can!”
Danny left them there talking technical and went to see what else he could do for the visiting Feds. By the time he’d returned, they had a whiteboard up and covered with pictures of the victims as well as notes written neatly beneath each. Danny swallowed back nausea and suddenly knew why Mac had wanted him to stay far away from the photos; he was sure to have nightmares about their mangled bodies. Danny turned away to take a few minutes and regain both his composure and control of his stomach.
“You all right?” Agent Morgan asked.
Danny looked up to meet compassionate brown eyes with his own as he explained, “I don’t usually see this stuff. Mac, my Master, keeps me in the lab dealing with trace and stuff. And the bodies I see in the morgue…they don’t look like that. Like…”
Agent Morgan finished, “Real people?”
“Yeah,” Danny admitted, somewhat shamed. “Sorry.”
Agent Morgan gripped his shoulder in a comforting gesture and said, “Don’t worry about it, Danny, really. Look, you don’t have to help us with this. We can manage on our own.”
But Danny shook his head and replied, “No, I want to. What can I do?”
“Right now, I think we’re good, but maybe you could stick around for when we need things,” Agent Morgan told him.
Danny nodded and agreed, “Sure. No problem. I’ll hang out and study while you all are doing your thing.”
Smiling, Agent Morgan added, “And feel free to speak up if you have any ideas or thoughts on anything we say. Sometimes an outside point of view can crack through the wall, you know?”
Pleased that Agent Morgan would think he had something to contribute, Danny straightened a little and smiled back.
* * * *
Once Mac got emailed copies of the previous crimes the killer committed, he knew what to look for and went back to the scene. Written in blood and then washed away in full view of anyone who cared to see was a bible verse. They’d only discovered it by spraying luminal on the alley wall and rigging a ‘dark room’ in order to see the words. The other crimes had been committed in homes and hotel rooms and so been discovered as a matter of course. Mac hated to think that they hadn’t been as thorough as they could have been simply because of the location the first time around.
He and Hawkes
worked all morning setting up the coverings that would block the sun and then
photographed the words. It was eerie, being in darkness at
“I think that’s everything,” Sheldon said, looking his way.
Mac nodded and agreed, “We should leave up the rigging in case the agents from the BAU want to take a look at it as is.”
They left the enclosure and Mac had to blink at coming back into full sunlight, rubbing his eyes. It didn’t take long to pack up their gear and load it into the SUV they’d taken to the scene. He looked at his watch, which showed that it was only two and the agents weren’t due to arrive until later that afternoon. Since there was a guard posted and no evidence to worry about except the cameras, which would remain with them, Mac suggested, “Lunch?”
Sheldon smiled as he replied, “Sounds good to me.”
They went to a diner down the block and ordered from a decidedly not fat-free menu. Mac half-grinned as he thought about the scolding Danny would give him if he found out. He’d gotten the results of his annual check-up the week before and his cholesterol definitely could stand less diner food.
“Something funny?”
Mac glanced at Hawkes and answered, “Just thinking about Danny. Don’t tell him we ate here, or I’ll never hear the end of it. I’m already eating oatmeal and cheerios every day for breakfast.”
Chuckling, Sheldon told him, “Your secret’s safe with me, Mac.”
“Thanks,” Mac said, leaning back when the waitress set down their sodas. “So how are your classes going?”
Sheldon took a sip of his drink before answering, “Great! You know, I didn’t realize there was so much I didn’t know about criminalistics. I mean, I did, but not really, you know?”
Mac agreed, “It’s an ever-expanding field with the law always changing and new methods becoming accepted Empire-wide. I’m looking forward to the day that we don’t have to assume every suspect is guilty. Looking more forward to the day ordinary people aren’t railroaded through the system and their freedom stripped as a matter of course.”
Eyebrows up in apparent surprise, Sheldon asked, “Are you an abolitionist, Mac?”
“No. I just want justice served and that’s not the case, more often than not,” Mac countered. “When someone is automatically assumed guilty and has no legal options unless the prosecutor decides it’s not worth his while to pursue, there’s something very wrong. Half the cops don’t care who they arrest as long as they close the case. Justice gets thrown by the wayside.”
Looking thoughtful, Sheldon pointed out, “Most of the time people are guilty. Would you rather the guilty go free?”
Mac shook his head as he replied, “Of course not. But I don’t want the innocent to suffer and that happens more than you might think.”
Sheldon’s lips quirked briefly and he observed, “You’re biased because of what Danny went through.”
Mac thought it over for a minute, giving the other man’s words their weight before he answered, “I don’t think I am. Danny wasn’t a convict slave, he was sold by his father. No, I’m talking about the people who are convenient scapegoats for lazy police work or in the wrong place at the wrong time. Go over the…”
The waitress returned with their food and Mac paused as she set the plates down and asked, “Can I get you anything more, Sirs?”
They both shook their heads and, once she’d left, Mac continued, “Go over any of the old case files and see how many people are slaves now, or worse, who shouldn’t be. I did that once and it turned my stomach. But since convictions can’t be overturned except in extreme cases with public outcry and powerful support, all of those people have no hope of regaining their freedom. It’s a travesty.”
Sheldon frowned, but didn’t respond as he reached for the ketchup.
Mac didn’t need an answer, really, so he let the silence continue. He and Sheldon were often on opposite sides of the spectrum ranging from legalities, medicine, and even food qualities. They’d changed one another’s minds often enough for the debating to be a comfortable thing between them.
Halfway through the meal, Hawkes prompted, “How is Danny these days? I don’t see a lot of him.”
While they were friends, it wasn’t as close a relationship as he shared with Stella and Mac answered vaguely, “Better. Physically, he’s about three weeks from getting the cast off and starting therapy.”
“And emotionally?”
“Emotionally…he’s doing better than anyone could expect.”
“But…?”
Mac shrugged and said, “But nothing. I’m keeping an eye on him, but he’s doing very well considering everything he’s been through.”
Sheldon nodded and returned to his food.
Conversation turned to more general topics after that and they lingered over coffee and dessert. Sheldon had a few interesting experiments going on with Syd’s help and Mac listened intently. Before he knew it, Mac spotted a dark SUV parking by the one they’d left near the scene. He pulled out money and left a twenty on the table as he said, “Looks like the BAU is here.”
Sheldon turned to look out the window and then stood to follow Mac out of the diner, cameras in hand. Mac stopped at the SUV first and pulled out the black lights under which the luminal would illuminate the blood written words.
Flack waited at the tape and greeted, “Hey Mac, Hawkes. The Feds are here.”
“So I gathered,” Mac replied. “What are they like?”
Mac had done research after sending his request to the BAU point person, but that was different than an in-person impression.
Flack snorted and then commented, “The head guy, Agent Hotchner, makes you look footloose and fancy free.”
“Thanks, I think,” Mac said, dry.
Flack grinned and held up the tape for him, so Mac ducked under and headed towards the blackout curtains. He pulled the entrance fabric aside and entered to find two men and a woman inside. The setup went halfway down the alley, so there was no crowding as he approached them.
The younger agent, a dark-haired, sober looking man in his late thirties, greeted, “Detective Taylor?”
Nodding, Mac held out his hand and replied, “That’s me. This is Dr. Sheldon Hawkes. He worked the scene with me earlier.”
“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, this is SSA Dave Rossi, and Special Agent Emily Prentiss,” the man answered. “I’m glad you asked for our assistance so early in the case.”
Grim, Mac concurred, “So am I, especially after receiving files on the other cases. Sheldon, you ready?”
Hawkes nodded and brought over the black lights, giving one to Mac. Between them, they were able to reveal the writing on the building for the agents
He will keep the feet of his
saints, and the wicked shall be silent in darkness; for by strength shall no
man prevail.
Looking at the newcomers, Mac wondered what they saw, geared as they were toward the mind and motives. It was entirely possible that they saw something completely different than he did and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. He had enough trouble with the world of evidence and hard fact haunting his dreams, let alone the psychosis of serial killers and rpists. Mac didn’t know how they handled such brutal cases on a regular basis. Old fashioned murders and crimes of passion were difficult enough.
Agent Hotchner finally questioned, “You have pictures that we can use later?”
“Yes, of course,” Mac confirmed. “I’ll have copies made for all your team.”
Nodding, Hotchner said, “Thank you. I think we’ve seen enough at this scene. What about the other?”
Mac told him, “We’re stretched a little thin, so I had another team set up the blackout curtains and take photos. We can head there now.”
It wasn’t very far away which in Mac’s normal estimation meant the killer was living or working in the area, that they were in his comfort zone. Given the circumstances, he didn’t think it meant anything except convenience. He wasn’t sure a serial killer truly had a comfort zone in the same way other people did.
The other team had done a very good job, as all the people on Mac’s staff did. They walked into a blanketed area very similar to the one that Mac and Sheldon had put together and again held up the black lights to find a different verse in place.
Therefore Abimelech rose early in the morning, and called all his
servants, and told all these things in their ears: and the men were sore
afraid.
Mac restrained himself from asking what it meant if only to stop from sounding like a rube. When they had something to share, they would share it. Until then, Mac would be happy enough returning to the lab to deal with the concrete world he generally inhabited.
* * * *
Spencer wasn’t exactly jumping
at shadows being in
Ever since Jason had left, Spencer had been taking his loss out on the one person he knew would take it. Morgan, Garcia, and Prentiss had all told him in no uncertain terms that he was being an idiot in their own, unique ways. And even though he’d know how unfair his treatment of Hotch was, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He’d given himself so completely to Jason that to have it thrown back in his face and abandoned, just like with his father, had rocked his very foundation.
It had taken the explosion and subsequent loss of Hotch’s hearing, fortunately temporary, for Spencer to truly understand how much of a bitch he’d been. Hotch had had to deal with the loss of his friend and mentor as well as taking on a slave who’d fought him at every step of the way. He couldn’t be sure, but Spencer suspected that maybe he was a big part of why Haley had left and taken Jack with her. Hotch didn’t say one way or the other, but Spencer thought it very likely that he’d been the last straw.
Staring at the mutilated photos of The Preacher’s newest victims, Spencer wondered if they would catch him this time. The profile wasn’t all that different from most serial killers; white male, twenty-five to forty years of age, well educated and high-functioning, though possibly OCD to some degree. There were differing points of view regarding his religious affiliation, whether it was real or if he was an atheist using the verses to show his disdain for organized religion in general and/or the Christian church specifically.
Personally, Spencer thought the man an atheist. He couldn’t conceive of someone truly believing in God and Hell as the Christian Church deemed the afterlife to hold, going around killing people at all, let alone in such horrific ways.
“Hey, you want anything to eat or drink?”
Startled from his musings, Spencer looked at the blond slave who’d been doing errands for them the last hour or so. Danny, he remembered. The Chain around his neck bespoke great regard from his Master, as did the man’s easy way of interacting with others. He wondered at the slave’s story, never having really been around others, aside from Garcia. It seemed rude to ask though, so Spencer shook his head and answered, “I’m fine, thank you.”
Nodding, Danny walked around the rest of the room asking everyone if they needed anything. When Morgan gave him a pointed look, Spencer sighed and intercepted the other slave and asked, “What are the choices?”
“It’s just subs and stuff,” Danny answered.
Spencer pondered the lack of choices and answered, “Just a veggie sub with provolone, then. Everything on it except hot peppers and pickles.”
“Toasted?”
Spencer nodded and then looked back at the board, mind already onto other things. He would know more once Hotch and the others got back with the new verses. Would they be from the same book? Maybe even the same chapter? Would the meanings resonate with the earlier verses or be completely different?
“You can be pretty rude, you know,” Morgan informed him.
Startled again, Spencer looked at the other man and repeated, “Rude?”
Morgan rolled his eyes and confirmed, “Rude, yeah. You gave Danny your order and then literally just turned your back on him like he was nothing. Anyone treated you that way and we’d all be on them like a cheap suit.”
Taken aback by the dressing-down, Spencer couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be. I was just…”
“Why don’t you tell it to Danny? And maybe act more like a human being instead of a cold bastard, while you’re at it,” Morgan interrupted.
Spencer watched him leave, more than a little shocked by the black man’s angry tone. But then he mentally reviewed the conversation with Danny in head and winced at how he must have come across. Morgan was right. The rest of the team would jump on anyone who treated him or Garcia that way.
He left the conference room in search of the other slave and found him sitting on a stool in one of the labs talking to a dark-haired woman. Danny took one look at him and jumped to his feet, saying, “The food should be here in about ten minutes, Sir. It’s being delivered since my Master doesn’t like me to leave the building without him.”
The easy manner of before was completely gone and his gaze immediately shifted to the floor. Even though Spencer was a slave as well, Danny had clearly decided that he was in a different level than other slaves and was treating him accordingly. Searching for the best way to fix the situation, especially with the woman glaring daggers at him, Spencer finally settled on, “I’m sorry about before, Danny. I didn’t mean to be so rude to you. I was, well, it’s not an excuse or anything, but I tend to forget about social niceties like saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ when I’m working a case. Or, you know, always.”
Danny looked up at him finally and gave him a suspicious look, maybe measuring the truth of what he was saying. The other slave relaxed fractionally and said, “It’s okay.”
“No it’s not,” the woman said, glaring at Danny and then again at Spencer. “You talk to him like that again and I’m going to make sure his Master knows about it. Jerk.”
Spencer winced again, knowing he deserved her anger.
Unexpectedly, Danny smiled at her and rubbed her shoulder as he told Spencer, “She’s a little overprotective. It’s fine, really. Thanks for apologizing.”
Spencer held out a hand, which Danny took without hesitation. “Thank you for accepting the apology. Let’s start over again. I’m Spencer Reed and I belong currently to SSA Aaron Hotchner. I work with the BAU almost like a full-fledged agent, profiling and helping with whatever they need.”
The woman snorted and said derisively, “Last name. Techno slave. Figures.”
Danny frowned at her as he scolded, “Ease off, Aiden. He’s trying,” and then to Spencer said, “I’m Danny and I belong to Detective Mac Taylor, head of the crime lab. This is Aiden and she belongs to Detective Stella Bonasera, Mac’s right hand and senior detective.”
“Hey gang, food’s here,” Lindsay announced from the door.
Spencer turned to find a petite woman with a ready smile standing in the lab entrance, though she was gone after getting their attention.
Danny motioned him in that direction and said, “Let’s eat! I’m starving.”
Aiden made a rude noise and retorted, “You’re always starving.”
“I’m a growing boy,” Danny protested, winking at Spencer.
A little startled at being so included, Spencer managed a vague smile. He was never sure how to react when there was banter going on around him, knowing his interpretations were always too literal. They all walked back to the conference room and he discovered that Hotch, Dave, and Emily were all back from visiting the crime scenes. That meant there would be new pictures to go over and he headed forward eagerly.
He noticed a tall, dark-haired man with pale eyes meet Danny halfway into the room, steering him right back out of it. Frowning, he glanced over to see Morgan following their exit and then walking out after them. Even Spencer could tell there would probably be trouble, so he hurried over to Hotch and tugged on his sleeve, saying urgently, “Hotch, I think Morgan’s about to do something that could be very bad.”
Hotch followed his gaze to the hall where Morgan and the other man stood in the middle of an obviously angry confrontation and then sighed. Giving Spencer a stern look, he ordered, “Stay here,” and went to diffuse the situation.
Wishing he could hear what was being said, Spencer stayed where he was and waited for the fallout.
* * * *
Mac saw Danny entering the conference room and frowned. When he saw the federal slave with him, the two side-by-side, he knew that Danny had been mingling with the agents and probably working for them all afternoon. And that meant his order to stay away from the case, especially the photos, had been disregarded.
Striding across the room, he took hold of Danny’s arm and pulled him outside, ignoring the slave’s startled exclamation. Once in the hall, Mac demanded, “What do you think you’re doing? I told you to stay away from this case!”
Danny’s gaze lowered to the floor as he replied, “I’m sorry. Stella said she would clear it with you, Mac.”
“Stella isn’t me,” Mac stated flatly. “When I tell you something, I expect you to obey it. Always, but especially in this kind of situation. You aren’t…” He’d been going to say, “…in any kind of condition to handle this,” but someone called his name from behind, interrupting. Turning, he found the black agent, Morgan, walking towards them, an angry expression on his face. Mac grit his teeth and replied, “Yes? Can I help you?”
“You shouldn’t punish Danny,” Morgan said firmly. “I’m the one who asked Detective Bonasera for someone to help out.”
Stiffening at the other man’s presumption, both in stopping him from correcting Danny and in preempting Danny’s assistance as he had, Mac countered sharply, “This is none of your business, Agent Morgan. The circumstances aren’t what concern me here.”
Morgan took a hostile posture, walking closer as he repeated, “Danny shouldn’t get in trouble for something I did, Detective Taylor. You should really…”
Feeling more than a little dangerous that someone would interfere with how he treated Danny, Mac interrupted quietly, “Do not finish that sentence, Agent Morgan.”
“Excuse me, but we have more important things to discuss than a slave’s punishment and whether or not it was deserved,” Agent Hotchner interrupted. “Morgan, leave them.”
“But Hotch…”
“Now.”
With a final warning look at Mac, Morgan went back to the conference room.
Agent Hotchner gave Mac a conciliatory look as he said, “I’m afraid that Agent Morgan’s feelings for his own slave preclude allowing others to treat theirs with anything less than the utmost respect in his sight. It’s become something of a problem and I apologize. We’ll see you back in the conference room when you’re ready, Detective.”
Left alone with Danny, or as alone as he could be with other cops and technicians roaming the hall, Mac took a breath. He looked at the younger man and found Danny almost huddled on his crutches. Sighing, Mac said, “Danny, look at me.”
Danny did so hesitantly, biting his lip.
Mac put a hand on his shoulder and said quietly, “I gave you those instructions because you’re in a fragile place right now and I don’t want anything to hurt you. Working on something like this, well, it strikes at even the most capable of souls and you’re…well, you’re fragile right now.”
“I’m stronger than you think,” Danny protested.
Smiling even as he thought about the nightmares, Mac cupped Danny’s face and agreed, “You’re one of the strongest people I know, Danny, but you’ve had a very rough year and it would wear on anyone. I was trying to lighten your load a bit, that’s all.”
Danny bit his lip again and then asked, “So, what now?”
Mac brushed a hand over his slave’s hair and replied, “Damage done, since you’ve already seen the crime scene photos. You can work with us on it.”
“And what about me disobeying you?”
That was a good question. Mac couldn’t let it slide just because Stella had said it was all right at the time, but he didn’t want to go overboard, either. He finally settled on, “No computer for a week. You’re going to be writing everything longhand until next week.”
Danny groaned, but nodded.
Mac didn’t usually go in for PDA’s, but he leaned forward and kissed Danny softly, lingering a bit before pulling back and saying, “All right. Time to eat, so let’s go, Hop-A-Long.”
Snorting, Danny flashed him a grin and then walked back into the conference room.
Mac let him go ahead and then scanned the room for Stella when he got back in himself. She was talking to Lindsay and the blond, pregnant woman he hadn’t yet been introduced to. Walking over, he asked, “Stella, can I talk to you?”
She took one look at him and lost her smile. “Oh God, Mac, I’m sorry! I totally forgot to talk to you about Danny!”
“I know,” he replied dryly.
The blond woman said diplomatically, “I think I’ll leave you two to talk,” and left them.
Stella held up a hand and told him, “Before you say anything, I’m so sorry. I know I’d be ticked if someone told Aiden she could do something when I said she couldn’t. I should’ve called you first and asked before telling Danny to help out. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Mac should’ve known that he wouldn’t get a word in edgewise. In the face of her obvious contrition, all he could do was shake his head and say, “Please don’t.”
Then Agent Hotchner called for everyone's attention, so he let the matter drop altogether.
* * * *
Penelope squeaked in surprise when strong arms surrounded her from behind. Then she grinned and leaned back against Derek, teasing, “Looking for a quickie? I’m sure I could find somewhere to duck into.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and low, rumbling right against her back. He kissed the top of her head before releasing her to say, “No, baby girl, I’m not looking for that. Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”
“We are good to go,” she reported, spinning the stool to look at him. “All connected with Kevin back home, got access to pretty much everything here in NYC. You know, Adam’s got some seriously cool toys. They don’t spare the expense around here on techno gadgets.”
Derek grinned and tweaked her nose as he said, “No, you can not ask Hotch to put whatever it is in the budget.”
Penelope pouted at him. “Please? It’s so cool!”
He didn’t lose his grin as he shook his head and repeated, “No. Hey, do me a favor?”
“Sure thing, sweetcheeks,” she agreed. “What’s up?”
“Keep an eye on Danny for me?”
At that, she frowned, asking, “Why? Looking to expand the harem?”
Derek rolled his eyes and answered, “Of course not. I just…I’m not sure he’s in a good situation right now.”
Eyebrows lifting, she pointed out matter-of-factly, “It’s not like you can do anything about it. He’s not yours.”
“I know, I know. Just do it for me, okay baby girl?”
He could easily have ordered her to, of course, but they didn’t work like that. Or, not outside the bedroom at least. With those soulful brown eyes gaze at her, naturally she answered, “I’ll keep an eye on him. Happy?”
Derek kissed her then, slow and easy. Just as she was really starting to get into it, he broke it off and dimpled at her. “Thanks, baby.”
She called, “Tease!” after him, but was smiling as she shifted on the stool for a more comfortable position. Despite the seriousness of the case, Penelope couldn’t help wishing that he had been looking for a quickie. Maybe locking themselves in a storage room, or a bathroom stall…
That train of thought was likely to derail her, so she cleared her throat and went back to work.
* * * *
The rest of the night passed more smoothly. The NYPD personnel left the room once the food was gone, which helped considerably. He didn’t have to keep an eye on Morgan to make sure he didn’t attempt another intervention, something that he knew he’d have to talk to the other man about sooner or later. The picture printouts of the new bible verses came in right around the time dinner was done and they spent the rest of the night dissecting them.
When
There were no more protests and Morgan left to collect Garcia so they could all head to the hotel. They were there only ten minutes later and bypassed the check-in thanks to JJ’s pre-handling of it, as she always did. Aaron rubbed tired eyes as he unlocked the door and then stepped inside, automatically scanning for potential threats where there shouldn’t be any. As soon as the door closed behind Spencer, Aaron loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons.
“Hotch?”
The uncertain tone was a dead giveaway and Aaron nearly groaned on hearing it. He bit it back, though, and turned to face the slave with, “Yes, Spencer?”
“Do you think I’m cold?” Spencer asked earnestly.
Aaron needed more sleep than what he’d gotten the night before to get into that conversation and deflected, “Why do you ask?”
Spencer was no Dave Rossi and so missed the evasion completely as he frowned and said, “Morgan called me cold earlier today. I, well, I was rude to Danny, but I didn’t mean to be.”
Wondering why Morgan had
latched onto
“Do you know how Danny came to be a slave?” Spencer asked.
Aaron shook his head. “Nor do I care to. Spencer, what’s this all about?”
Sitting on the bed, Spencer admitted, “I’m not sure. I guess I just…I feel…alone, right now. I miss Jason.”
Aaron’s jaw clenched at the mention of the Gideon, but he adopted what he hoped to be a comforting smile and said, “It’s okay to miss him, Spencer.”
“I don’t want to miss him!” Spencer exclaimed. “He left me! He threw both our lives into chaos because he had to go off on his own instead of taking me with him!”
Sighing, Aaron sat beside him and said, “All we can do is move on with our lives. For what it’s worth, my life isn’t chaos because you’re in it. It’s…better.”
Spencer gave him a startled look. “It is?”
“Yes,” Aaron stated firmly.
Spencer looked down at the floor and told him, “I know I wasn’t easy to get along with at the beginning. I’m sorry for that. You’ve been very good to me all along and I know that, I do, I just…miss him. Why did he leave me, Aaron?”
When Spencer looked at him, eyes big and hurt behind his glasses, Aaron felt more helpless than he had in a very long time. Unable to find an answer, he just pulled Spencer into his arms and replied, “I don’t know, Spencer, I wish I did.”
He wasn’t surprised when the tears started, choked off cries as Spencer’s fingers dug into his back. It had been a long time coming; longer than he’d expected. Aaron sighed again as he held the slave and tried to comfort him as best he could.
* * * *
It was much too early the next
morning when Mac’s phone rang, waking him from a sound sleep. Thankfully,
there’d been no nightmare and he’d slept the night through. Picking up the
phone, he answered, “
“We got another body, Mac,” Don’s voice said over the phone. “He’s breaking pattern.”
Mac sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he prompted, “Where?”
Don gave him the address and told him, “I’ve already called the BAU team and they’ll be here in twenty.”
“Good. Thanks, Don. I’ll see you in a half hour,” Mac said, disconnecting.
He dropped the phone onto the bedside table and collapsed back onto the bed for a minute, yawning. Turning his head, he found Danny sound asleep in the dawning light that hovered near the window ready to turn into the day. The slave was sprawled on his back with both arms slack above his head, the cuffs heavy in his wrists and chained to the headboard. Mac had known that they would both need sleep to deal with the coming days and had chained him the night before in an effort to preempt the nightmares.
That it worked, was a little scary. Mac made a note to call the psychologist that day, no matter how busy it got. They had to get Danny under control before something bad really happened. Mac could easily picture some kind of meltdown and losing him to the horrors in his mind.
Mac rolled onto his side and whispered, “I won’t lose you too, Danny. I love you too much,” and then pressed his lips to the bare chest, just above the heart. He stayed there a moment and then climbed off the bed to get ready, but let Danny sleep longer.
It was going to be a long day.