TWO | let it stay buried in the earth

     DON'T EVER TAKE A FENCE DOWN
     UNTIL YOU KNOW WHY IT WAS PUT UP.
               — robert frost.

"WE'VE FOUND THAT THERE are two distinct profiles. The first is the dominant personality- he is most likely a white male in his early to mid thirties. He's around six foot, and dirty blonde or brunette." JJ stood tall as she announced the profile, gaze flickering around the crowd to gauge their reactions. Security footage, eye witnesses, and some overtime on Garcia's part had given them a solid profile, and Mercy was itching to find the unsubs. Derek stood behind right behind her, gaze flickering to her every once in a while. The brunette straightened and took a step forward, shoulders back and spine bone straight as her eyes sweeped over the crowd.

"The amount of overkill on the victims suggests anger issues and a previous criminal record, though they might not be very noticeable at first glance. He might have history with these victims- possible resentment. He's a narcissist; he believes he's killing for a good, justified reason, whatever it may be. He's a master manipulator, he makes you want to help him." She paused, watching as the reported checked their tape recorders and finished writing down what she had just said. "He is also a compulsive liar- you can't tell he's even lying until he's gone, and the gaps in his story start to come to light. He's patient, but he's a risk taker. He's not from around here, he comes and is gone before you know it. He's a flirt, easy to talk to." She finished, looking to Spencer before taking a step back.

Derek took a step forward, their shoulders brushing as he settled beside her. She couldn't help but glance up at him, flashing him a small, toothless smile. They stared at each other for not even half a second before Spencer cleared his throat, looking out at the audience. He couldn't help but feel semi-self conscious; even with all his years spent speaking to strangers at the bureau, he'd never seemed to shake his stage fright.

"The second unsub is more submissive, he follows the dominant's lead for the most part. He is also suspected to be a white male, in his late twenties to early thirties, around six foot as well, though he's taller than the first unsub. He may seem more intimidating at first, but he's more kind, compassionate, than the dominant." He looked to Morgan, who crossed his arms over his chest.

"He carries around a lot of guilt and shame- that's likely why he continues to help the first unsub, despite his apprehension. They're most likely related; cousins, brothers, something like that, and they share a traumatic past, which reenforces their co-dependancy. He's got a need for validation, but he's hesitant. He's got empathy for his victims, and tries to show them mercy." Derek nodded, eyes catching on two men in the back of the room. The shorter one held his gaze before being reprimanded by the taller of the two, dropping it to look at his buddy. Derek tapped Mercy on the arm, looking over at her before looking back at the place the two stood.

When he looked back, they were gone. He furrowed his brows, ignoring the quizzical look Mercy gave him. JJ continued on about their signature being the teeth, their motive and 'type'- very athletic, well known individuals. Kennedy Carlston was a prized track runner, Gavin Hale ran marathons and Marissa West was the volleyball coach at a private highschool in the district. Other than that, there wasn't much of a victim profile. JJ worked crowd control as the rest of the team exited the room, heading back to the sheriff's office to further discuss their next moves.

Mercy looked up at Derek as they entered the room, tilting her head slightly. "What was that about?" She asked curiously, and he sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

"There were these two guys standing in the crowd- they were staring at us. I was trying to get you to look, but they disappeared." He admitted, and she blinked, obviously confused.

"How do two guys just disappear?"

"I don't know, they stuck out like sore thumbs, too." He added before being interrupted by the phone ringing on the round table. Mercy leaned forward and answered it, putting the call on speaker.

"What do you got for us, Penny?" She asked, her tired tone betraying her strong front. Derek couldn't say anything before Penelope began speaking, her voice cheery as ever, even after being stumped by the case. They'd been working on it for three days already, and they hadn't been able to hunt down the unsubs.

"A few things, dollface. I got some audio clips from the security footage from The Wreck," she referenced the local diner they were spotted at, "I'm sending them your way now. I also got a still from the cameras, but it's pretty blurry." She sighed, and Mercy's computer pinged, signaling she'd received the files. Mercy sat down next to Spencer, Morgan leaning over her shoulder as she worked on the computer, while Rossi watched from a few feet away. Hotch and Prentiss had gone back to the crime scene, trying to find any evidence they may have missed before.

Mercy pressed play on the audio clip, leaning closer to the computer.

"Seen... She was found... over a month ago, did... Know her?" The audio clips were very spotty, but Mercy tensed at the sound. She knew that voice; she knew it like the back of her own goddamn hand. "Sammy... nest of five of 'em... Edenville road." It continued, and Mercy leaned away from it, finding herself short of breath.

"What does he mean by 'nest'?" Spencer thought out loud, and Mercy remained rigid in her seat. Derek noticed, tilting his head and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"What's goin' on, baby? Talk to me." He said to her, and she shook her head. She opened the picture Garcia had sent, and it only confirmed her suspicions. It was them. She hadn't seen them in ten or so years, but they weren't faces she would ever forget.

Derek's eyes widened as he looked at the image, blinking a few times. "Those are the guys I saw." He muttered, and Spencer furrowed his brows, nose twitching unconsciously.

"What guys?"

"Uh, Garcia? Can you run the name Ted Nugent through the system, see if there's any motel rooms booked under the name?" She asked, fiddling with her hands as she spoke. Reid stared down at them as she spoke, giving his signature 'confused puppy' look as she finished.

"Like the guitarist?" Spencer asked, and Mercy nodded, speaking quickly.

"Yes, yes as in the guitarist, Garcia."

They could all hear the confusion in her voice, but the blonde agreed none the less. After a few seconds, her voice piped back up, still confused but moreso curious now. "There's a Ted Nugent checked into the Northwood motel. Why?" She asked, and Mercy paused, chewing on her thumb nail.

"Babe, do some digging on Sam and Dean Winchester."

"W-what? Who-"

"Humor me, please." Mercy's voice was tense, and Garcia must have sensed the urgency behind her words.

"...Okay?" They all looked to Mercy, who avoided  their eyes. After a few minutes, Garcia's voice came through the speaker again, much quieter this time. "Sam and Dean Winchester, both born in Lawrence, Kansas, raised by their father John Winchester after their mother died in '83. They were assumed dead a couple of years ago after a police station went up in flames, but their bodies were never found, thus, their deaths never confirmed."

"Look through Dean's criminal record, see if you can find the name Ted Nugent in there anywhere." Mercy continued, only further confusing everyone else in the room.

"Kid, what's this all abou-" Rossi started, but Mercy cut him off with a harsh 'shh!'.

"Woah." Garcia exclaimed, and in any other situation, Mercy may have smiled. "This guys record is... extensive. He's wanted in four states. I'm gonna need some time to go through this, Goosey." Mercy sighed, nodding to herself.

"Hurry, Pen." Garcia hummed from across the line.

"You'll know as soon as I know, Merce. Sit tight, Garcia out." The line went dead and Mercy stood up, hanging up the phone and exiting the room without another word. Morgan, Reid, Rossi, and the Sheriff all exchanged extremely confused looks. Morgan straightened, sending Rossi and Reid looks that said 'I've got this'. He walked down the station's hallway, looking for Mercy.

     He stepped out the side door, seeing Mercy sitting with her back to the wall of the station. He crouched beside her, not saying anything, just keeping her company.

     After a few long minutes, Mercy looked over at him. "There are a lot of things I haven't told you about my past."

     Her words made Derek uneasy, but he nodded. "You don't have to. You like your privacy, I get that." He smiled at her, and she returned it half-heartedly.

     "I do, though. I have... History, with Dean. He's the guy." She didn't have to explain any more. Derek knew. He froze, trying to control himself. He couldn't get angry; he didn't want to make her even more upset. "Our dads were friends, I guess. We grew up together. Then his mom died, and we didn't see each other for almost fifteen years. My dad found John, he went to go see him and took me with him. Dean and I... connected. It was like he never left. And then my dad went hunting with John, and never came back." Her eyes were glassy and she'd looked away from Derek, pointedly staring straight ahead.

     "John took me in. I traveled with them, for a really long time. I already had my degree, I worked so hard for it. I graduated early and I sped through college just so I could have a chance at getting into the FBI. But who cares about that when you're having the time of your life?" She laughed humorlessly. "Sam was gone, off at college, and John wasn't there half the time. It was just me and Dean. I knew he did some bad stuff, but I didn't care. I thought he was good at heart, you know? He really seemed... good. But then he got into some bad family business, and he dragged Sammy into it. John died, and then..."

     "Dean?" She called out cautiously, minding her step as she searched the junkyard for him. He was hurting, she knew that. His dad died; he made a deal so Dean could live. He felt guilty, so beyond guilty. But John's decision wasn't anyone's except his own, and Dean had to realize that. She had to help him realize that.

     "There you are." Her voice broke his train of thought, and he crawled out from under the Impala. "I've been looking all over for you." She said quietly, looking into his eyes hesitantly.

     He looked so far away. His vibrant green eyes were murky, his face so stoic and emotionless. "Yeah, heard you." He said shortly, popping the hood to see if he'd connected the right wire. He tugged on it, and it pulled back at him.

     "Why... why didn't you say anything then?" She asked quietly, and he simply shrugged. She waited a moment, watching as he worked on Baby, before continuing. "Hey, you should take a break. We're worried about you." She took a step toward him, and he shot up, slamming the hood before looking at her.

     His mood had flipped; he was fuming, steam practically pouring out of his ears. His eyes were a dark green, and he scared her. "Why the hell does everyone keep saying that? I'm fine, you're fine, everything's fine so just back off!" He barked, making her cringe. She couldn't back down just yet, not when she was just getting through to him.

     "Dean," she said cautiously, "you just went through something pretty traumatic. It's okay to be upset." Her words made something in him snap. He took another step towards her, huffing humorlessly.

     "My dad just died, Sadie. How the hell do you think I feel?" He asked quietly, and she paused before answering.

     "I don't know, Dean. You won't talk to me." She practically whispered, and Dean rubbed his jaw, gaze never leaving her.

     "Why do you think that is, huh?" He asked, and she was silent. "Sadie, just get the hell out of here." He muttered sharply, and her heart panged sharply.

     "Dean, please don't do this right now." She whispered, and Dean shook his head.

     "Why the hell don't you get it? Do you need me to spell it out for you, huh? I don't want you here. Sam doesn't. Bobby doesn't. Get the hell out, and don't come back." His voice was gradually getting louder. "I don't want you here! I never have!" His chest was heaving, and Mercedes shook her head.

     "Dean, listen to what you're saying," she tried to say, but he laughed loudly.

      "I can hear everything I'm saying Mercedes, loud and clear. I don't know how I can make it any clearer; I don't want you. I never have. You're needy, you don't listen, or give me my space, or any privacy. You're a pain in my ass, and I want you gone. Maybe, if you weren't here, my Dad still would be." Each word tore through her like a dull knife, her chest going numb as she tried to breathe through his harsh words.

     "Dean, I want you to think about what you're saying. I won't come back, ever. I swear to god." She looked him in the eye, tears threatening to spill out of her beautiful brown eyes. Dean nodded, his front never faltering.

     "Good. I don't want you to. Go, Sadie." She nodded, biting her lip. She opened her mouth to say something, before closing it and nodding again. She turned around, and without another word, she was gone.

     "I was twenty-three, and I was so beyond stupid. And he sent me away, like a fucking dog." Her breath hitched, and she paused for a few moments, willing herself not to cry. "I was lost. Dean was everything to me, he was everything I ever knew. I gave him my heart, and he threw it away." She finally looked back at Derek, and her heart broke at the look he gave her.

     Hearing how badly this guy had hurt her made Derek beyond angry. He reached for her hand, holding onto it with a tender grip. Mercy wiped her eyes with her free hand before taking a deep breath.

     "Anyway, that's how I knew him. He's used the same fake name since he turned fifteen. He didn't do this kind of stuff back then. He was just a reckless kid, and so was I." It was only half a lie. She was only reckless because of him, because of John. If not for John, her dad would probably still be alive. He hunted back then, but she'd never seen anything like this.

     "Mercy, baby, I'm never gonna do that to you, you know that right?" He asked her, voice plagued with emotion. She nodded, her breath shuddering as she did. "We're gonna get this guy, and then all of this will be over. You won't ever have to think about him again. He doesn't deserve you, baby." He reminded her, and she nodded.

"I know. I know, I just.. I didn't think it still hurt this much, you know? I thought I was done with it all, but being back here, thinking about him? It hurts more now than it did back then." She whispered, and Derek nodded.

"He hurt you bad, babygirl. You're all put together again, and he's still the same as he was. It's okay to still be hurt." He nodded encouragingly, and she gave him a small smile, still sniffling quietly. He put a soft hand on her cheek, and she leaned up to press a kiss to his lips.

"Thank you." She whispered to him, and he knew she wasn't just thanking him for hearing her talk. It was for the years of healing, for his patience and understanding; she was thanking Derek Morgan for something he saw as something any good human would do, and he knew he'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

"Always, Goose." She let out a breath of laughter at the nickname- for some reason the entire team thought it was funny to call her Goose instead of Swan, her last name. She had to admit it could be pretty funny. "Let's get back in the game, sooner we finish this case, sooner we get back home." He told her, standing up and helping her up as well. The two re-entered the police office, not noticing the two men watching them from the 1967 Chevrolet Impala down the street.