Chapter Text
The round table room was heavy with silence, broken only by the faint hum of the TV screen displaying the still frame of Spencer’s young face. The image of him, frozen in a moment that none of them could unsee, loomed over the room like a ghost. Derek stared at it, his jaw clenched tightly, his knuckles white where his hands gripped the table’s edge. The pit in his stomach hadn’t stopped growing since this case first brought them to Vegas.
Hotch stood by the screen, speaking in low tones to Garcia, who sat with her laptop perched on the table. Her fingers tapped cautiously at the keys as she worked, but every few moments, she would pause, her hands trembling, and shake her head.
“I’m trying to trace where the video originated,” she said, her voice tight with barely concealed disgust. “But the dark web is… well, it’s dark. If I dig too deep while connected to the FBI’s mainframe, we’re risking exposure. And with people like this? We don’t know how dangerous they are.”
“Understood,” Hotch replied. “Tread carefully, Garcia. We’re not risking our entire network.”
Emily leaned forward, her eyes trained on the frozen image. “Val was a narcissist,” she said, her tone analytical but tinged with disgust. “And a perfectionist. This doesn’t look like his work. It’s messy—there’s no editing, Spencer looks at the camera, and it’s all too raw. Val wouldn’t have released something like this.”
Hotch turned his gaze toward her, silently asking her to continue.
“These are unedited tapes,” she explained, gesturing toward the screen. “The only people who would have access to these are the people who made them—or at least were part of the process.”
JJ, still pale and visibly shaken, spoke from her seat at the table. “But didn’t they arrest everyone involved?” Her voice wavered, and she looked to Emily for reassurance.
Emily shook her head. “Not necessarily. Some people weren’t directly involved enough to be charged. Others might have been paid off—or threatened—by the CIA to keep quiet. If someone felt like their cut wasn’t enough or thought they had nothing to lose, they could have decided to go rogue.”
Rossi stepped forward from his place in the corner, crossing his arms. “The CIA erased everything involving Spencer. They wouldn’t leave these tapes in anyone’s hands.”
“Not unless they didn’t know someone had them,” Emily countered. “There could’ve been a loose end, something they overlooked. Maybe someone kept copies.”
The room settled into a tense silence as the team absorbed her words. It made sense, but the implications were devastating.
Hotch nodded, his expression grim as he turned to Garcia. “If they have access to this video, they likely have more. I need you to search for them, Garcia. Don’t try to dig into the source just yet—find the videos first. There might be something in them that gives us more to work with.”
Garcia froze, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. “Sir…” she started, shaking her head. “I… I hate this. I feel dirty even looking at it. I don’t want to see Spencer like that.” Her voice cracked, and she turned her eyes back to her laptop, blinking rapidly to keep from breaking down.
Hotch’s expression softened, but only slightly. This was different from any other case they had handled—this was their colleague, their friend. He hesitated for a moment before addressing the team. “What should we do?”
It wasn’t a direct order, and it wasn’t aimed at any one person. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by Derek’s scoff.
“Hotch,” he said, his voice hard, “you’re asking us what to do? You’re supposed to know what to do.”
“I’m asking because there’s no easy answer,” Hotch replied, his tone steady but sharp. “This isn’t just evidence—it’s Spencer’s life. His dignity. We need to handle this carefully.”
JJ spoke up, her voice quiet. “We could… talk to Spencer about it first? Let him decide?”
Derek shook his head immediately. “And traumatize him all over again? No. That’s a bad idea. You really want to show him this?” He gestured toward the still frame on the screen.
Emily shifted uncomfortably. “Or we could just… not tell him at all. Handle it ourselves, get it removed, and make sure he never has to know.”
Derek rounded on her, anger flashing in his eyes. “Right, because lying to Spencer worked so well for you last time, huh?” His words landed like a slap, and Emily looked away, her face taut with guilt.
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “That’s not a good idea.”
Rossi broke the silence next. “We need to watch them. Or at least one of us does. Maybe not the whole thing, but enough to understand what we’re dealing with. It’s the only way to find everyone involved.”
Derek’s fists slammed against the table. “Hotch, you’re not seriously considering this. You want all of us to sit here and watch Spencer get violated over and over? For what? To make Garcia feel better about it?” His voice broke, raw with anger and pain. He turned to Garcia, his tone softer but still firm. “I’m sorry, Babygirl, but he wouldn’t want that. No one would.”
Hotch remained quiet, his face unreadable as he weighed the options.
JJ spoke up again, her voice steady despite the tremor beneath it. “There are already people all over the world watching this. Strangers. If it were me…” She hesitated, swallowing hard. “I’d rather have the people I trust see me like this if it meant those strangers couldn’t anymore.”
Derek’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I know Spencer’s biggest fear is us seeing him differently,” JJ continued. “But we’ve already seen it. It’s not like we can unsee it. He’s still Spencer.”
The tension in the room was palpable, each team member struggling with the weight of JJ’s words.
Finally, Hotch broke the silence. “Garcia,” he said, his voice resolute, “start the search. Don’t watch anything. Have facial recognition scan the videos once you find them. They’re unedited which means there may be some people from behind the scenes on camera that could lead us to who’s posting these. If we need to review parts of them, we’ll do it together. No one has to stay in the room if they don’t want to.”
The team nodded, some reluctantly, others with grim determination. None of them wanted to see more, but they understood the necessity. The goal wasn’t just to secure evidence—it was to protect Spencer from further harm.
As Garcia turned back to her keyboard, the room fell silent again. The team exchanged weary glances, knowing the hours ahead would test them in ways they hadn’t been tested before.
Each of them felt the weight of their decision, but one thought kept them grounded: They would do whatever it took to protect Spencer—no matter the cost.