Untitled

TO SCREAM UNTIL YOUR LUNGS BURN. TO SWALLOW THE OCEAN IN IT'S ENTIRETY. THESE ARE THE DEATHS I LIVE DAILY.

RULES & MUSES GOOGLE SITES PAGE.

in the period of time that they'd worked together, carl had come to revere ryland grace as a friend. but that didn't stop or change the fact that grace was needed to help save this world. hands slip into dress-pants pockets. "you know exactly what to do," he reminds. "stratt wouldn't have picked you otherwise."

he's not smart like grace, but that doesn't mean he's a fool. he knows that stratt has her plans and even if it pains him, carl would rather say goodbye to one person than to die amongst millions as the sun died. if anyone could save them, surely it would be grace.

it hadn't technically been a lie - he'd just refrained from telling spencer that he'd been a getaway driver for the string of various robberies that had happened across los angeles. it'd ended with spencer himself cuffing driver and a deal to work for the fbi, much like garcia had gotten. it wasn't completely uncommon for driver to be asked along when the bau went on a job, but it was rare.

and now here he was, in a city he'd never been to before. blood splattered across his clothes. the unsub who'd taken spencer having ' vanished ' before the bau could arrive. driver's hands red, leaving stains behind as he cradles spencer reid's face. the adrenaline, the fear, the knowledge that driver had saved him, something in spencer making it sound like he was finally giving driver another chance. and driver wasn't going to ruin it.

he nods, not one to waste words when he knows spencer can read him well enough to know the nod is a promise. he takes off his jacket, drapes it over spencer's shoulders as derek morgan comes rumbling in, loud enough to scare an elephant, gun drawn. the rest of the team scrambling in behind, everyone worried about spencer and confused about where the fuck the unsub had gone and who's blood was covering driver's clothing.

"So bad news, I might have tripped a silent alarm, and even worse news, we have probably five minutes to get the fuck out of here... If we're that lucky." @mischieflawed

immediately, butcher regrets bringing stiles along on something as important as this. hughie's little butt-friend, or whatever the fuck the two of 'em were, having already fucked up the whole operation. maybe he should have left stiles behind. "are y' fuckin' shittin' me?" voice filled with unamusement. "we ain't even started," he grumbles.