Chapter Eleven
Each Other's Only Hope
Spencer and Johnny both rose excitedly as Emily Prentiss tore off her jacket that was now soaked in blood, as she closed the bathroom door behind her.
"I got the bullet out," she said, sitting, and rubbing her eyes.
"Is she okay?" Johnny asked fervently. "Please tell me she is okay!" he whispered.
"She's fine. Asleep. She's lost a lot of blood, so take it easy tonight. You have about 6 hours of night left. Let her sleep then do whatever. You mind telling me how this happened?" she asked.
"Turn on the news..." Johnny whispered, turning his head so his expression was kept hidden. Spencer mumbled under his breath as he did as he was told. He turned the set, and Johnny's face was there. They always acknowledged him as MLB player that he was, not the boy Melanie knew. Reid turned through seven more channels, showing Emily the contents. Each was the story of the baseball player, only 19, and how he had killed a man in cold blood, then stole away with a young girl. The girl was thought to be a victim, and that's what really made Johnny's blood run cold.
"G-guys?" Melanie's weak voice trembled from the corner. Spencer ran to her as she tried to grip the wall for support, but began to fall. Her legs were wobbling like a new born horse, and she couldn't stay standing. Spencer dragged her to the couch (she was probably the heaviest thing he'd ever lifted like that. He was dying afterward), laying her down. He put her head on his lap, and he stroked her hair. After, a moment, she tried to sit up, and she failed miserably, falling back onto Reid.
"Stop moving. Your wound may be bandaged but it's not closed. Your just pushing it out with every movement," Emily growled lovingly at her.
"You've already lost so much blood," Spencer whispered, taking her hand.
"I'm gonna go take a shower," said Johnny, who didn't bother to ask. He left the three in the room.
Melanie looked like she was going to fly away if any puff of air hit her. Reid had never seen her so pale and skinny. Even her ruby red lips had turned a unnoticeable pink. That scared Reid the most.
"...So...you don't hate me?" Melanie whispered in her little meek voice.
"What?" Spencer whispered. Melanie blushed, and Spencer was pleased to see that she had enough energy to do that. Emily excused herself into the kitchen.
"...You didn't ask me to dance last night. I stayed by your side practically all evening, and you never danced with me...I thought you hated me, and you were just...repulsed. That you didn't want to touch me." Melanie looked away and her face turned even redder.
"God, no...Melly...I never...I have never been repulsed by you. Your my best friend."
"...Then why didn't you dance with me?"
Emily came back in at this point, a false smile on her face. "Drink this," she said. Melanie did as she was told, and gave a grimace after downing the mysterious drink.
"You may be the first person to take that drink well."
"No one can take that drink well. And I have a horrible gag reflex, just saying." Melanie sat upright without any trouble, and stood. She had to steady herself, but then turned to her coworkers, her head hidden on her chest. "I'm leaving with him," she whispered.
"What?" Spencer asked after a moment.
"I have to."
"Melanie," Emily hesitantly began,"You don't have to do anything. You didn't kill that man. You don't have to run."
"No...you see, I do. I know I won't be held responsible for that young man's death, but I am going to face hell. I can't marry Phillip...I just can't...That's hell!" she screamed, covering her face. "Living in France for the rest of my life while he does politics and I look pretty. What is that? Nothing good can come from it. He'll get me pregnant and I'll have kids and maybe that will give me purpose. But...they'll take them from me too. Everything good in my life has been stripped from me! My father...my master...my safe house..." Reid couldn't understand Melanie's rants but he felt as if his legs were going to give out. "Johnny told me he loved me. We are going to get married. Soon. We'll run, get out of the country, change our names. That life is better than the one I'm supposed to lead."
"Melly, you can't-"
"What do you want to do, Melanie?" Emily asked.
"...It's too late for that. You know when a Princess is born, she doesn't have the choice to be a doctor, or a singer, or whatever she pleases. She is bound by laws that others aren't bound by. I have those rules ingrained in me so deep...but I can't any more...I just can't...it's too late..."
"What can I do?" Spencer whispered.
"...I need you to call the justice of the peace, but don't tell them our names. Don't mention the FBI or even baseball games."
Johnny entered again, his dark curls wet and pressed to his forehead. "Book the nearest bridal suite, one room will suit us fine."
"What names should I use?" Spencer choked, his back to the couple.
"Mr. and Mrs. Smith..." Melanie sighed.
Spencer heard Johnny groan, and he knew he was kissing some part of Melly. (Her hair at this point). "Imagine it!" he cried, twirling his future wife as Emily stole the phone from Reid. "No early calls, no big premiers, no press always watching..."
"We'll spend the nights making our own little league baseball team," Melanie crooned.
"We're no one you've ever seen..."
"Movie stars don't live anywhere here, except on the local drive-in screen..."
"Where do you want to live, Melly?"
"Let's move to Main Street, USA...We'll both get good, blue collar jobs. Work 9 to 5. We'll struggle with money and it will all be okay. We'll...suffer and cry but we'll be so happy," she whispered.
"I'm going to the store. I've got a gun. I'll be fine. I'll get supplies, then we'll go." Melanie smiled at her future husband and his plan. He left and Melanie tensed.
Spencer went to his window and stared out it, trying to hide the tears he couldn't hold in. He would never see Melanie again. He would never see her hair down...he had only seen it once, but it had been so dark and he couldn't remember. This was the only time he had ever seen her in casual clothes. Emily had brought them for her. A black and white hoodie-sweat shirt and black sweat pants. Her hair was braided and slicked back. He would never see her walk down the isle, or get pregnant. He would never hold her children. He wouldn't see her smile again, or bite her ruby red lips. He wouldn't watch her cry, her pain, ever again.
"Talk to me," she whispered behind him, pain in her voice. Reid turned on a heel, and left the room. Melanie wiped a tear away, and turned to Emily.
"Who were you dancing with last night?" Melly asked her close friend.
"...An old friend. Mick Rawson."
"I remember the name. He's from Doc's group. You worked the one case with them, when it was the annual killing of the father, daughter, and a few homeless men. I remember it."
"He had a little crush on me...it was nice to talk. He was from the younger, less careful me. It was fun to see how he thought I would act, the same. Of course I didn't...I really lost the ability to trust...like you."
Melanie didn't say a word as her smile dropped. "You sound like you like him."
"I do. I didn't call him then and I won't call him now. He's nothing special to me."
Melanie smiled weakly, and took her friends hands in her own small, pale one. "Thank you, Emily. You are one of the best friends I could ever ask for. Thank you...so much, Em."
***
"Melanie...Melanie...Wake up!! Melanie!! Now!" Emily was shaking her friend awake. Her head fell back slack as she tried to sit up again. Melly's bandage needed changing badly.
"W-wha..." she whispered.
"I'm going to look for him!" Em screamed as she lunged off Melly.
"Prentiss, no!" Reid struggled to stop her in the door way. She stopped not because of force, but respect.
"What's wrong?" Melly whispered, blue eyes locked on Reid. "Where is he? What's happened?"
"...He shot a cop, Mel."
Melanie's heart sunk. She realized how deep she was in this.
"Who?"
"...Mick!" Emily cried, her head flopping lifelessly into her hands.
"...Is he?"
"No," Spencer whispered. "Just in intensive care. But he could..." Emily moaned again.
The world stopped around Melly in that moment. A life on the run or a life of pointlessness and luxury? Did it matter?
"What am I-"
"Hush!" Prentiss whispered, and they all slapped out of their emotions. "Listen..."
"It's my phone," Melanie moaned.
"Don't answer it," Prentiss growled in warning.
"What if it's him? I have to." It was evident none of her friends was going to grab for her phone, so Melanie dragged herself out of bed to get it.
"Hello?" she whispered hoarsely into it.
"Melly? Thank God..."
"Johnny!" she cried, and sobbed into her hand.
"I'm fine, Melly. Listen, I need Reid or Prentiss to get you to the outskirts of town. You know that old bridal shop on 52nd? Go there. There is a fence. We get over that, we are home free. I've got plane tickets out of the country. I won't say where, now. I've got birth certificates and other crap like that. Enough supplies to last us months. This is a disposable cell, so I'll throw it away and don't call it again. Cool?"
"...Cool..."
"Bye, Mel."
"Good-bye, Johnny..."
"I love you, Melly."
"...Love you, too..." and the line clicked dead. "My God..."
***
Melanie left the house alone that night. She told Spencer and Emily what was going on. She found she couldn't whisper the word good bye, so she collapsed in her friend's arms. She left sobbing, her hood up and hair tucked in. She was a ball of black and white, both good and evil.
Melanie stalked up 52nd. There was a turn, and if Johnny was where he should be, she would be in his arms in just 40 or so feet.
"Mel?" she heard his voice before she saw him in the dark.
"Johnny?"
"Melly!" they both set off at a sprint for each other's arms, but the gun came out so fast and Melanie never saw the bullet hit her partner, but she felt his blood on her hands and his heavy body falling on her, making them both collapse.
"Get away from there!" one of the cops screamed, but Melanie just stared wide eyed at the boy in her arms. He was choking on his own blood, trying to gurgle something to Melanie. She watched as his wide eyes stared into her own, and she watched them die. She slowly sat down the body, and rose. She looked around, and saw the cop with the gun in his hand. She pulled out her FBI credentials and held her hand out for the weapon. He gave it to her.
"How many bullet's are in this gun, sir?" she whispered lifelessly. He didn't respond.
"How many! How many people can kill, like you killed him?! Huh?! How many people can I kill and still save one bullet for me! Because I can kill because I have hate! I know what the meaning is now!" she screamed, sinking to the ground. She caught Reid's stare out of the corner of her eye, then two men trying to take the body.
"Don't touch him!" she screamed, covering his body. Spencer came to her, sinking to her side. "He was my only hope..." she whispered.
"...I know..."
Spencer looked at Melanie. He had never seen her eyes so dark and scared and...angry. Melanie had never been this angry. Life had been taken from her, she had seen it leave him. It left her a shell, left only to fill by evil. But Melanie was still there, and she would come back. Perhaps not the same, but there. Because Melanie was different. She was beyond good and evil.
She was Melanie Wilkes. And she had been through hell.
And there will be hell to come.
Johnny Potter was not her last chance.
Emily came back in at this point, a false smile on her face. "Drink this," she said. Melanie did as she was told, and gave a grimace after downing the mysterious drink.
"You may be the first person to take that drink well."
"No one can take that drink well. And I have a horrible gag reflex, just saying." Melanie sat upright without any trouble, and stood. She had to steady herself, but then turned to her coworkers, her head hidden on her chest. "I'm leaving with him," she whispered.
"What?" Spencer asked after a moment.
"I have to."
"Melanie," Emily hesitantly began,"You don't have to do anything. You didn't kill that man. You don't have to run."
"No...you see, I do. I know I won't be held responsible for that young man's death, but I am going to face hell. I can't marry Phillip...I just can't...That's hell!" she screamed, covering her face. "Living in France for the rest of my life while he does politics and I look pretty. What is that? Nothing good can come from it. He'll get me pregnant and I'll have kids and maybe that will give me purpose. But...they'll take them from me too. Everything good in my life has been stripped from me! My father...my master...my safe house..." Reid couldn't understand Melanie's rants but he felt as if his legs were going to give out. "Johnny told me he loved me. We are going to get married. Soon. We'll run, get out of the country, change our names. That life is better than the one I'm supposed to lead."
"Melly, you can't-"
"What do you want to do, Melanie?" Emily asked.
"...It's too late for that. You know when a Princess is born, she doesn't have the choice to be a doctor, or a singer, or whatever she pleases. She is bound by laws that others aren't bound by. I have those rules ingrained in me so deep...but I can't any more...I just can't...it's too late..."
"What can I do?" Spencer whispered.
"...I need you to call the justice of the peace, but don't tell them our names. Don't mention the FBI or even baseball games."
Johnny entered again, his dark curls wet and pressed to his forehead. "Book the nearest bridal suite, one room will suit us fine."
"What names should I use?" Spencer choked, his back to the couple.
"Mr. and Mrs. Smith..." Melanie sighed.
Spencer heard Johnny groan, and he knew he was kissing some part of Melly. (Her hair at this point). "Imagine it!" he cried, twirling his future wife as Emily stole the phone from Reid. "No early calls, no big premiers, no press always watching..."
"We'll spend the nights making our own little league baseball team," Melanie crooned.
"We're no one you've ever seen..."
"Movie stars don't live anywhere here, except on the local drive-in screen..."
"Where do you want to live, Melly?"
"Let's move to Main Street, USA...We'll both get good, blue collar jobs. Work 9 to 5. We'll struggle with money and it will all be okay. We'll...suffer and cry but we'll be so happy," she whispered.
"I'm going to the store. I've got a gun. I'll be fine. I'll get supplies, then we'll go." Melanie smiled at her future husband and his plan. He left and Melanie tensed.
Spencer went to his window and stared out it, trying to hide the tears he couldn't hold in. He would never see Melanie again. He would never see her hair down...he had only seen it once, but it had been so dark and he couldn't remember. This was the only time he had ever seen her in casual clothes. Emily had brought them for her. A black and white hoodie-sweat shirt and black sweat pants. Her hair was braided and slicked back. He would never see her walk down the isle, or get pregnant. He would never hold her children. He wouldn't see her smile again, or bite her ruby red lips. He wouldn't watch her cry, her pain, ever again.
"Talk to me," she whispered behind him, pain in her voice. Reid turned on a heel, and left the room. Melanie wiped a tear away, and turned to Emily.
"Who were you dancing with last night?" Melly asked her close friend.
"...An old friend. Mick Rawson."
"I remember the name. He's from Doc's group. You worked the one case with them, when it was the annual killing of the father, daughter, and a few homeless men. I remember it."
"He had a little crush on me...it was nice to talk. He was from the younger, less careful me. It was fun to see how he thought I would act, the same. Of course I didn't...I really lost the ability to trust...like you."
Melanie didn't say a word as her smile dropped. "You sound like you like him."
"I do. I didn't call him then and I won't call him now. He's nothing special to me."
Melanie smiled weakly, and took her friends hands in her own small, pale one. "Thank you, Emily. You are one of the best friends I could ever ask for. Thank you...so much, Em."
***
"Melanie...Melanie...Wake up!! Melanie!! Now!" Emily was shaking her friend awake. Her head fell back slack as she tried to sit up again. Melly's bandage needed changing badly.
"W-wha..." she whispered.
"I'm going to look for him!" Em screamed as she lunged off Melly.
"Prentiss, no!" Reid struggled to stop her in the door way. She stopped not because of force, but respect.
"What's wrong?" Melly whispered, blue eyes locked on Reid. "Where is he? What's happened?"
"...He shot a cop, Mel."
Melanie's heart sunk. She realized how deep she was in this.
"Who?"
"...Mick!" Emily cried, her head flopping lifelessly into her hands.
"...Is he?"
"No," Spencer whispered. "Just in intensive care. But he could..." Emily moaned again.
The world stopped around Melly in that moment. A life on the run or a life of pointlessness and luxury? Did it matter?
"What am I-"
"Hush!" Prentiss whispered, and they all slapped out of their emotions. "Listen..."
"It's my phone," Melanie moaned.
"Don't answer it," Prentiss growled in warning.
"What if it's him? I have to." It was evident none of her friends was going to grab for her phone, so Melanie dragged herself out of bed to get it.
"Hello?" she whispered hoarsely into it.
"Melly? Thank God..."
"Johnny!" she cried, and sobbed into her hand.
"I'm fine, Melly. Listen, I need Reid or Prentiss to get you to the outskirts of town. You know that old bridal shop on 52nd? Go there. There is a fence. We get over that, we are home free. I've got plane tickets out of the country. I won't say where, now. I've got birth certificates and other crap like that. Enough supplies to last us months. This is a disposable cell, so I'll throw it away and don't call it again. Cool?"
"...Cool..."
"Bye, Mel."
"Good-bye, Johnny..."
"I love you, Melly."
"...Love you, too..." and the line clicked dead. "My God..."
***
Melanie left the house alone that night. She told Spencer and Emily what was going on. She found she couldn't whisper the word good bye, so she collapsed in her friend's arms. She left sobbing, her hood up and hair tucked in. She was a ball of black and white, both good and evil.
Melanie stalked up 52nd. There was a turn, and if Johnny was where he should be, she would be in his arms in just 40 or so feet.
"Mel?" she heard his voice before she saw him in the dark.
"Johnny?"
"Melly!" they both set off at a sprint for each other's arms, but the gun came out so fast and Melanie never saw the bullet hit her partner, but she felt his blood on her hands and his heavy body falling on her, making them both collapse.
"Get away from there!" one of the cops screamed, but Melanie just stared wide eyed at the boy in her arms. He was choking on his own blood, trying to gurgle something to Melanie. She watched as his wide eyes stared into her own, and she watched them die. She slowly sat down the body, and rose. She looked around, and saw the cop with the gun in his hand. She pulled out her FBI credentials and held her hand out for the weapon. He gave it to her.
"How many bullet's are in this gun, sir?" she whispered lifelessly. He didn't respond.
"How many! How many people can kill, like you killed him?! Huh?! How many people can I kill and still save one bullet for me! Because I can kill because I have hate! I know what the meaning is now!" she screamed, sinking to the ground. She caught Reid's stare out of the corner of her eye, then two men trying to take the body.
"Don't touch him!" she screamed, covering his body. Spencer came to her, sinking to her side. "He was my only hope..." she whispered.
"...I know..."
Spencer looked at Melanie. He had never seen her eyes so dark and scared and...angry. Melanie had never been this angry. Life had been taken from her, she had seen it leave him. It left her a shell, left only to fill by evil. But Melanie was still there, and she would come back. Perhaps not the same, but there. Because Melanie was different. She was beyond good and evil.
She was Melanie Wilkes. And she had been through hell.
And there will be hell to come.
Johnny Potter was not her last chance.
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