Chapter Text
The storm had chewed the city into something unrecognizable.
It was supposed to be a seasonal squall, the kind people braced for with sandbags and flashlights. But when the levee cracked and the river poured through like a wound, it swallowed entire blocks before the emergency crews could react.
The BAU convoy rolled in under gray skies streaked with lightning, tires pushing through waterlogged streets. The air smelled of ozone and gasoline, sharp with the faint tang of sewage carried up from flooded drains.
“Jesus,” Morgan muttered, pressing a hand against the passenger window as they passed the shell of a collapsed rowhouse. A child’s tricycle bobbed in the floodwater outside.
Hotch’s voice was steady from the driver’s seat. “Local authorities are overwhelmed. Search and rescue can’t cover all the ground. They requested federal manpower—any federal manpower.”
“So we’re it,” Emily said grimly, scanning the broken skyline. “Not to profile. To dig people out of basements.” JJ twisted in her seat to look at Reid, who sat rigid with his satchel pressed against his knees. “You okay, Spence?”
He nodded, too quickly. His eyes hadn’t stopped moving since they’d crossed into the wreckage, cataloguing every collapsed roof, every face wading through the waist-deep water.
“There’s a pattern to the destruction,” he said softly, more to himself than to them. “The buildings closest to the levee collapsed under hydrostatic pressure. It’s predictable, almost… almost mathematical. But the unpredictability comes in secondary failures—gas leaks, live wires—”
“Reid,” Hotch interrupted gently. “Focus on what’s in front of us.”
The convoy stopped outside a gutted supermarket where National Guard tents flapped under the wind. Civilians huddled in clusters, blankets pulled over damp shoulders. A woman clutched a muddy dog against her chest; a teenager stared blankly at his ruined sneakers.
As the team unloaded, a police sergeant jogged toward them, rain plastering his uniform to his frame. “BAU?” “That’s us,” Hotch confirmed. “Appreciate the backup. We’ve got bodies trapped in collapsed buildings, unaccounted residents, and… other issues.” The hesitation was telling.
“Looting,” Morgan said flatly.
The sergeant grimaced. “Yeah. Desperation brings out the worst.”
The first hours blurred together. The team split to comb through partially collapsed townhouses, kicking through plaster and soaked wood, calling out names. JJ pulled a shivering little girl from a crawlspace. Emily flagged down EMTs for a man whose leg had been crushed beneath a refrigerator.
By late afternoon, the storm had passed but left the city half-drowned. The team regrouped near a cul-de-sac where two homes had pancaked into rubble.
Reid crouched near what used to be a front porch. His gloved hands brushed against fabric—denim stained dark. He froze when he realized it was a man’s arm, the body pinned beneath what looked like half the roof.
“Victim,” he called, voice clipped. Morgan was there in seconds, heaving a plank aside. But as they cleared the wreckage, it became clear the man was gone. His head was a ruin, skull crushed by falling debris. Reid closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again when he heard footsteps.
Two figures darted through the wreckage. Teenagers—soaked hoodies, sneakers slapping on wet concrete. One bent, not to help, but to yank the wallet from the dead man’s pocket.
“Hey!” Morgan’s roar cut across the cul-de-sac. He vaulted debris like an obstacle course, grabbing the kid by the collar before he could bolt. The wallet clattered to the ground.
“Let go!” the boy spat, twisting. His friend had already disappeared down the flooded street.
“You’re robbing a corpse?” Morgan demanded, shaking him once. “That man’s not even cold!”
The kid’s eyes were wild, but not with shame. “What does it matter? He’s dead! We’re all dying out here, starving on the streets. Dead don’t need money. We do.”
Silence hung for a beat, punctuated only by dripping water.
Reid straightened slowly. His voice was quiet but carried an edge. “You think theft is survival? That wallet won’t rebuild your house. It won’t feed your family once the bills come. All you’re doing is taking what little dignity he has left.”
The boy sneered, but Morgan shoved him toward the sergeant who had come running.
“Book him,” Morgan said. “Maybe a night in holding will remind him there’s a line.”
The sergeant cuffed the boy with a weary shake of his head.
Reid watched, hands trembling slightly. He shoved them into his pockets. “When everything collapses, morality’s the first casualty.”
JJ’s voice was low. “Not for everyone, Spence.”
Night fell early under the storm clouds. The team gathered at the command tent, soaked to the bone. Hotch was on the radio with the police when a report crackled through:
“… power outage at County General. Repeat, County General is offline. Backup generator engaged but failing intermittently. Reports of supply theft, including pain meds—likely organized group. Over.”
Emily exhaled, rubbing at her temples. “As if they don’t have enough to deal with.”
Reid’s head snapped up, eyes wide. He didn’t say Adrian’s name out loud, but his mind went there instantly, heart climbing into his throat.
Hotch’s gaze lingered on him, reading what he didn’t voice. “We stay on task. There’ll be time to check in once we know more.”
Reid swallowed hard, nodding. But as thunder rumbled again over the ruined city, he couldn’t shake the thought of his surgeon fighting blind in the dark.