THREE | cat and mouse

     I CANNOT KEEP
     POISONING MYSELF
     FOR SOMEONE WHO WOULD SIT BACK
     AND WATCH ME PERISH
     WITHOUT FEELING AN OUNCE OF
     GRIEF.
— blue.

     DEAN WOKE UP SLOWLY, one arm slightly numb. He turned his head, gazing long and hard at the pretty girl who slept peacefully, curled up into his side. He sighed ever so slightly, the sound mixed with distinct adoration and conflict.

     He was so deeply and utterly in love with the girl next to him, and nothing in the world scared him more.

     He'd seen some of the scariest monsters that walked the Earth, things that hid under children's beds and fed on the flesh of the innocent. But for some reason, none of them scared him half as much as Mercedes Swan. He'd never felt like this for another girl- he'd never felt the same amount of adoration and complete selflessness for another human being. He'd take a bullet for his Sadie. That was the worst part.

     He heard his fathers voice in the back of his head. Get rid of that girl. She makes you weak, and she'll get you killed. He replayed them over and over in his mind as he stared at the girl sleeping nude in Bobby's slightly uncomfortable spare bed next to him.

     The thing is, his father wasn't necessarily wrong. Mercy made him vulnerable; she was his Achilles heel. He'd do anything for her, he'd stop hunting and move across the world with her if she said the word. Not because he felt obligated, or didn't want to lose her, but because he wanted to. He wanted so desperately to live an apple pie life with the girl of his dreams.

     And that wasn't good. No, it wasn't good at all. There was no room for second thoughts in his line of work, no room for vulnerability or relationships. He saw the way things went down between hunters, and he didn't want that for him and Sadie.

     The thing was, he was already in too deep. And he didn't want to let her go. He was happy to hold her tight, to let her tie him down like an anchor in the middle of the ocean.

     As he looked over to Sadie, he knew his selfishness wasn't fair to her. She didn't deserve to be dragged across the country, killing things that only haunted her worst nightmares.

     It was then, he decided, the best thing he could do was let her go. Even if it killed him in the process.

     A pillow hit Dean hard in the face, immediately setting him on edge. He jumped up, grabbing the knife he hid under his pillow and swinging blindly, brain still foggy from sleep. Sam yelled, catching his arm and smacking his face lightly. Dean blinked a few times, focusing on the man in front of him. He sighed harshly, slowly getting out of the bed. Sam stared at him for a few moments, but decided against saying anything.

     Dean was angry. That, at least, was very easy to tell. They'd spied on Mercy the previous night (which Sam was very against) and Dean saw her kiss another man. The FBI agent who had seen them at the station, in fact. Dean drove off immediately after they'd gone back inside, dropping Sam off at the motel before heading to the bar. He'd shown up sometime around three in the morning before immediately going to bed, leaving no time for Sam to prod at the touchy subject.

     Dean looked over at his brother, ignoring his tentative look before clearing his throat.

     "We're going back for the last one. We'll leave tonight." Was all he said before disappearing to the bathroom, making Sam sigh.

     Sam wanted out. He always had, but he could never seem to stay away. He didn't want to end up like his brother, as shitty as it sounded. Dean was turning into a sad, angry man and it killed Sam a little more every day. Dean was a good person; he'd made mistakes in his past, but didn't everyone? He knew Dean better than anyone else in the world, he knew who his brother truly was at heart. Years of hunting and ignoring his feelings had made him a shell of his old self, and Sam wasn't sure what to do about it.

     So, he did what he always did. He went along with Dean's plan, no matter how stupid or reckless it was.

     "Okay."

     Mercy's arms were folded over her chest, lip trapped between her teeth. Garcia had confirmed that Dean was, in fact, using the name Ted Nugent as a fake, and Hotch decided that was enough evidence to use against him.

     They knew the motel room number, they were just waiting for the warrant to be filed and officially given.

     She was conflicted, to say the least. She knew there had to be a reason they were killing these people. Whether they were monsters, or something of the sort. But that wasn't an excuse. Years in the FBI had changed Mercy; she wasn't the ignorant, reckless young adult she once was. There needed to be order in the world- civilians shouldn't be doing law enforcements jobs, no matter the situation. Self defense was one thing, hunting people down and killing them was another.

     Derek was concerned. He couldn't lie and say that Mercy's connection to the case didn't affect him. Dean, or whatever his name was, was a big part of his girlfriends life at one point. Who was to say she wouldn't have second thoughts at the sight of her first love?

     He wasn't insecure about his relationship. He wasn't in the slightest; he knew Mercy well enough to know she wouldn't do anything to hurt him. But that didn't stop his thoughts from wandering.

     She'd done everything in her power to act okay around Derek. She couldn't describe the guilty feeling in her gut, making her boyfriend get involved in a case that involved her ex. It was an uncomfortable situation for all of them, to say the least.

     But words were mere things, and actions were the only thing that could truly prove someone's motives. So there she stood, one hand on her lover's shoulder, the other raised to her mouth where she chewed on her fingernails.

Derek wasn't the only one who saw the difference in Mercy. Spencers eyes had barely left her figure, brows furrowed and nose twitching as he concentrated. He wasn't sure what exactly was happening, but what Derek had told him didn't sound good.

Everyone was on edge, so when the phone rang, it was no surprise the whole team practically raced each other to answer it. Hotch got to it first, as per usual, and they all knew the answer before he'd even said the word. When Hotch looked over his at his team, he saw them all standing, looking at him expectantly. He nodded, and without another word, they all exited the room.

     Mercy was beyond anxious. The thought of being face to face with the man who broke her heart eight years prior was daunting, to say the least. She reminded herself to separate her work from her personal life, and took a deep breath. Her leg bounced, foot tapping on the floor of the SUV she sat in. It twisted and turned, sped up and slowed suddenly on their way to the shady motel they'd determined the Winchester's had been staying at. Rossi looked through the rear view mirror from the passengers seat.

All of the members of the team were important to him. They were family. But Mercy was different.

He'd protected her more fiercely than the others, from the moment he'd met her. She was emotional yet reserved, quiet and outgoing.

He'd taken a liking to her, quite frankly. And before anyone knew it, they were as close as father and daughter. Mercy was his daughter, blood or not. And the fact that the man who broke her heart was the unsub just made him want to catch the son of a bitch even more.

Derek and Spencer sat beside her, though she paid them very little attention. Her gaze was directed out the window, mind reeling and body tense. The men exchanged a glance but stayed silent, not wanting to draw attention to something Mercy was trying (and failing) to hide.

Soon enough the vehicle stopped, and Mercy practically jumped out. Her hand rested on the holster hanging on her hips. She took a shaky breath before walking up to the the group of SWAT agents and nodding at them. Hotch gave her a look, not that she noticed, before speaking to the rest of the officers. They approached the door of room 11 before Hotch pulled his gun out of his holster.

     "FBI, open up!" He yelled, waiting a moment before nodding back to Derek. He kicked the door with all of his strength, more than ready to face the man who'd hurt up the love of his life.

     The lock broke as the door swung open, the SWAT members rushing into the room before the agents of the BAU followed close behind.

     Mercy was on edge as she entered the cramped room, feeling almost nauseous. The second she'd passed the door frame, waves of Deja-vu crashed over her. The bed reminded her of the first case she and Dean worked alone, the countless pages of evidence and newspaper clippings only dunking her further into the cold ocean that was her past.

     She heard Emily yell 'Clear!' from the bathroom, and visibly deflated. They were gone. She hadn't even noticed the Impala missing from the parking lot.

     To say she was disappointed was an understatement. But, at the same time, she was relieved. She didn't know if she was ready to face Dean again. She knew she wouldn't know until the time came.

     Hotch sighed in frustration, Derek practically ready to punch a wall from beside him.

     "Alright, everyone, this isn't over. Search the room, see if we can find anything that might tell us where they went." He ordered, and the team nodded in unison. Rossi patted Mercy's shoulder as he passed her, giving her a tight smile.

     "It's going to be fine, Belle. We'll catch them in no time." He reassured her, not that it helped much. She managed to nod her thanks, gun shoved back in her holster and arms crossed over her chest. The team separated and began searching every drawer, every cupboard, every inch of the shotty hotel room.

After fifteen minutes of looking around, something on the desk caught her eye. She froze, daring herself to look closer. To confirm it was what she thought it was, what she dreaded seeing.

Her body moved robotically, every step forced and uncomfortable. A shaky hand pulled the chair away from the desk, and she slowly sank down into it. Very gently, she picked the mixtape up from the desk. A walkman sat close by, and she could have laughed. He never liked modern music- or technology. Maybe that's why she got along so well with Reid.

Her breath hitched as her fingers ghosted over the scratchy handwriting on the front of the mix. Sadie, was all it said. She reached out for the walkman, popping the tape in and slowly putting the headphones on over her ears.

     A familiar stretch of cords started playing softly in the headphones, making her squeeze her eyes shut tightly. She could feel herself slipping away, causing one hand to clench around the walkman and the other to grasp onto the edge of the desk.

(  I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show  )

     Mercy sang loudly to the sound blaring through the Impala, her hair flying around wildly as the windows were around. Dean laughed at her antics, shaking his head as he readjusted his hands on the steering wheel. She held one fist to her mouth like it was holding an invisible microphone, pointing over at Dean as she practically shouted the lyrics.

     "I tell myself that I can't hold out forever, I said there is no reason for my fear. 'Cause I feel so secure when we're together," She continued, unaware of the heart eyes Dean was currently shooting her way.

     It was their first lone case together. John said he trusted Dean, even more so with a partner. It was some vengeful spirit outside of Atlanta, and they were currently cruising through the city on their way to their motel. The streetlights flickered against the headlights of the Impala, the city growing quieter than normal at one in the morning.

     Mercy was half afraid they'd get the cops called on them due to a noise complaint, but Dean didn't seem to care. And she always followed his lead.

     They pulled up to a stop light, Dean fidgeting where he sat in the drivers seat.

(  And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight  )

     His staring raised the hair on the back of Mercy's neck, and she fixed her hair before she looked over at him. Her pearly teeth were on full display, one eyebrow quirked as she stared back at him.

( And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might )

     Without another seconds hesitation, Dean reached over and cupped the olive skinned girls jaw, pulling her in for a kiss. Her eyes widened as they leaned in, but she didn't dare pull away. No, not when this was all she had been wanting for the past year and a half. Probably longer.

( And I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I started fighting for )

Mercy didn't even realize she was crying until Derek came up behind her, hesitating before putting a hand on her shoulder. She jumped slightly, pulling the headphones off of her head and smoothing her hair before wiping her tears carefully. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten where she was, what she was doing. She was so caught up in diving back into dead memories she didn't realize she was potentially putting her team at risk. She stood up, shoving the mixtape away from her and stepping away from Derek.

The two shared a tense look before Hotch's voice broke their concentration. "Look-" he put a worn newspaper article down on the desk, oblivious to what had just happened between Mercy, Derek, and the mixtape. "Another girl. Went missing a week ago, ran away from home but wasn't reported until a few days ago. They've gotta be going back for her."

"They said Edenville road on the tape," Mercy commented, and Hotch looked up at her, taking a mental note of her watery eyes.

"We've got to get to her before they do."