ONE | blast from the past

     WE KNOW WHAT WE ARE, BUT KNOW
     NOT WHAT WE MAY BE.
               — william shakespeare.

               Mercy pushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, arms resting at her sides as the team stride toward the small team of officers standing at the crime scene. She wore a striped tan pantsuit, donning a pair of thick framed sunglasses. She followed Derek closely, her sharp eyes picking up every dirty detail the scene presented.

"Sheriff Townsend, Rosebush PD." The sheriff introduced himself, shaking hands with Hotch before moving down the line of profilers. Spencer settled for a polite wave, while Mercy took a step forward, surprising the sheriff with her strong grip.

"Agent Hotchner, these are agents Morgan, Rossi, Jareau, Prentiss, Swan, and Doctor Reid." Aaron introduced the team, and they all looked to the crime scene.

     "All three victims were buried in the same grave, all decapitated and missing their canines. Gavin Hale was missing his left arm, it had been cut off just above the elbow. Their heads," He began walking away from the first grave, the team following close behind, "were found at a secondary location. A soybean field a few miles out of town. A farmer went out to water the field and found a patch of dig up crops. They were only buried a few feet under." He said grimly. "The rest of them were found here."

     Mercy looked around herself; they were quite literally in a graveyard. She found it somewhat ironic, though equally as sad. She worked with dead bodies and killers daily, but she'd never become accustomed to the horrors she witnessed.

"Have you gotten the blood work back?" She piped up, looking over her shoulder to make eye contact with the sheriff. He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It was strange. They all had the same blood type, and there seemed to be some temporary paralysis." The sheriff informed them, making Mercy furrow her brows.

     "Could they tell what caused it?"

     "No ma'am." The sheriff sighed, something he seemed to grow accustomed to the longer the team was there. Mercy pursed her lips, looking down at the ground where the bodies once laid. She was stumped, and that didn't happen often.

     "Swan, Morgan, Reid, head to the coroners office and see if they have anything new for us. Prentiss, go through the case file, see if you can talk to any close friends of the victims. Me and Rossi will stay here and examine the crime scene further." Hotch said in his perpetually calm tone of voice, Mercy nodding in response. She headed toward the parking lot, Morgan and Reid hot on her tail. She looked over her shoulder, smirking at her boyfriend as she jingled the keys.

     "I'm driving." As soon as she said it, she couldn't help but remember the time she said it it Dean.

     "I'm driving." She half joked, not bothering to look at him. She paused, looking over her shoulder to lock eyes with him. He wore a soft smirk, keys in his hand. He hesitated, thinking hard before looking down at the key ring. He tossed them to her, and she barely caught them, too frozen with surprise.

     "You give her one little scratch..." He threatened jokingly, and she blinked at him, jaw dropped.

     "You're kidding." She gasped, and he gestured to the keys in her hand.

     "You've got the keys, babe." He laughed, and she squealed in excitement.

     "You're letting me drive Baby!"

     "I know, babe."

     "You never let anyone drive Baby-"

     "Babe-"

     "Oh my god!" She put her hands on her temples, utterly shocked. Dean couldn't help but laugh at her, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned over the roof of the car.

     "Start the car before I change my mind, honey." He teased, and she wasted no time in getting in the vintage car.

     Mercy stood a few feet away from the SUV, frozen in thought. Spencer stood awkwardly in front of the back door, waiting for Mercy to unlock the car. Derek looked at her expectantly, cupping his hands around his mouth.

     "Babygirl!" He hollered, snapping his girlfriend out of her thoughts. She stared at him, confused. He gestured to the car, and she blinked, quickly pressing the unlock button on the key. She shook her head before walking over to the car, entering the drivers side. She really needed to finish this case.

Dean paced the motel room, occasionally shaking his head as he thought about the situation in front of him.

"They brought the FBI in, Dean. Not the fake FBI, but the real one. This is bad," Sam sighed from where he sat on the edge of his bed, watching his brother pace with worried eyes. Dean barely glanced at his younger brother before looking back at the desk, to the open journal that sat on it.

They didn't plan on four blood suckers. They'd only seen three, they'd never even suspected another. There was no evidence, no missing persons report, nada. But bam, right when they were ganking the last one, another pops up out of nowhere and jumps Sammy. Dean subconsciously knew that pissed him off more than being caught off guard- no one was allowed to hurt Sam except him.

"Yeah, Sam, that's pretty damn obvious." He grumbled, chewing on his thumbnail as he wracked his brain for a solution.

"We should haul ass out of town, Dean. Like, now." Sam practically pleaded, but Dean was having none of it.

"We can't leave this fucker alive. She'll start another nest and all our work will have been for nothing." They hadn't been able to catch the newborn before she disappeared, hiding out somewhere nearby. Dean could feel it- she hadn't gone far. The town was all she knew, so was the nest. She couldn't have been more than seventeen before she was turned.

"We can't get arrested, either, Dean." Sam paused. "Again." He added as an afterthought. Dean rolled his eyes, turning to look at his brother.

"I'm not leaving til the jobs done. You never leave a case unfinished, right? That just calls for trouble." He said, practically quoting a rule his father had taught him at the young age of twelve years old. Sam pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

"We both know exactly why you want to stay, Dean, and it's not to finish the case." Sam said quietly, addressing the elephant in the room head on.

Dean froze momentarily, stunned by his brothers bluntness. It was something they both tip toed around, never actually addressing it.

Dean had pushed Mercedes Swan away, and he immediately regretted it.

He regretted it every time they had a frustrating hunt, or a shitty motel room with no cable. He missed her when they went to Bobby's, the lack of her witty banter with the man too obvious to ignore.

He missed her smile, the curve of her hips and the way she looked while she slept. He missed her every day, and he had no one to blame but himself.

He gave Sam a sharp look. "Don't start with that, Sam." He said lowly, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Am I wrong? I know you keep tabs on her, Dean. I know you sneak off to DC during dry spells to watch her, to see what she's up to. You aren't very secretive." Sam pushed, Dean growing visibly angrier.

"This isn't about Sadie, Sam. Drop it, before you say something you regret." He practically growled. "We're here to finish what we started, then we're gone. Just like always." He finished before exiting the motel room, slamming the door so hard the whole room shook. Sam sighed and shook his head, running both hands through his shaggy hair.

Dean may not have been able to admit it, but Sam could unapologetically. He missed Mercedes. He missed her perfect advice and their movie marathons. He missed when she would braid his hair and listen to him grieve over Jessica. He missed late nights at dodgy bars in small towns, getting wasted til they couldn't stand.

Most of all, he missed the way she made Dean smile. His brother had been so stormy, so reckless after the loss of her, and he had no one to blame but himself. Sam often resented his brother for the loss of his closest friend, but he could never bring himself to address it.

He was forced to suck it up and attempt to move on, all while knowing she 'hunted' him the way he hunted the supernatural. They weren't allies, friends, anymore- and that, he thought, may have hurt the most.

Mercy entered the hotel room with a sigh, dropping the case file on the small desk at the back of the room. Derek sat on the bed, already dressed in his pajamas. Mercy gave him a soft smile, shrugging off her blazer as she dug through her go bag.

Derek could tell this case was getting to her; everyone could. But no one knew Mercy like Derek. He could profile her like no other, despite the unspoken agreement of the team. No profiling each other. His eyes never left Mercy, even when she stripped to her underwear to change into her own pajamas. She set her phone on the night stand, running a hand through her long hair as she sat down on the bed.

She curled up next to Derek immediately, pulling the covers over her. She sighed, drawing soft shapes on his dark skin with her fingers. Derek looked down at her fondly, unable to hide the subtle worried look in his eyes. Mercy didn't even have to look up at him to be able to see the look. She knew it all too well.

"I'm gonna be fine. This case just sucks." She said bluntly, almost making her lover smile. He nodded, humming, obviously unconvinced.

"I know. Just worry about you sometimes baby, you know that." He answered, his voice soft. She nodded in return, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"It gets to me sometimes. One of them was just a kid, you know? She wasn't even out of college." She muttered, venting mindlessly. Derek wrapped an arm around her, gently scratching her forearm.

     "That's why we do what we do. We catch the bad guys so the victims get justice." He reminded her, and she sighed. He was right- he always was.

     "Just makes me think."

     "About what?" Derek raised an eyebrow, looking down at her softly.

     "How would you feel if that ever happened to your kid?" She asked somewhat hesitantly, and it took him a moment to answer.

     "It never would. I wouldn't let it." He answered confidently, and Mercy smiled softly.

     "Of course you wouldn't." She teased half heartedly, her mind still reeling. She paused her actions, hand still touching his exposed skin. He looked at her expectantly. It took her a moment before she looked up at him, a surprisingly soft look in her eye. "Would that be something you want?" She asked, and he blinked, sightly confused. "Kids," she explained further, and he froze, taken aback.

     Before she could regret bringing it up, Derek gently brought her face to his, kissing her lips. He tried to tell her everything he could with that kiss, he tried to convey how very much he wanted that. He pulled away, running a hand through her hair. "Couldn't imagine not having a little you running around one day." He murmured after a moment, Mercy's chest blooming with warmth at his words. She smiled at him, making him smile.

     "We should do it." She practically whispered, and Derek couldn't help the grin that made its home on his face.

     "Whatever you want, babygirl." He promised, holding her closer than before. She placed a soft kiss on his chest before turning over and turning off the lamp, quickly finding her way right back to his side. She shifted around for a moment, trying to get comfortable. Derek gently caressed her arm, making Mercy smile contently.

     She couldn't ask for anything better.

dean winchester swearing rights
also dad!derek makes my heart melt so i couldn't help but adding that in there
you might think it's off brand for derek to not mack on mercy right there and then but mercy would never let him on a case and he knows better than to even try