"What a touching friendship.
When you said, 'Do you think I care about them?' with a cold face in front of the camera in that cabin outside Arlington, I believed you.
After all, one of them is Agent Hotcher's ex-wife, and the other is his ex-wife's son. "Foyet pulled out the knife that was stuck in Bruce's body.
Looking at Bruce, who was tied to the chair, he lowered his head slightly and didn't say a word.
He turned his head to the sofa opposite the chair. "Haley, you don't know yet, right?
What kind of feelings does Bruce have for your ex-husband? "
"Foyet." Bruce raised his head abruptly.
He stared at Foyet with cold eyes.
He tried to stop him from talking. His slightly large movement seemed to have pulled at the wound on his chest.
His breathing became heavy.
He loved Hotch.
However, this was between him and Hotch. If Haley knew about it, Bruce would have a strange feeling. He had mixed feelings about Haley.
On one hand, he was jealous that Haley had something that he couldn't get. On the other hand, he was actually glad that Haley gave up on the marriage with Hotch.
Otherwise, he would probably never have had any hope. However, he was a little angry that Haley didn't know how to cherish Hotch. Moreover, Haley's choice to divorce would definitely hurt Hotch. In short, he didn't want Haley to know about this.
He didn't want Haley to think that he came to save her because of Hotch.
Although this was true from a certain point of view, it made him feel embarrassed.
"Oh,
You seem to be more interested in this topic. "Foyet deliberately misinterpreted Bruce's meaning.
"You know, I've been thinking about how to get back at you for a long time.
I came across something that troubled me.
You have no family, no lover.
You don't even have close friends. How can I make you lose the things you care about? But one day, I suddenly remembered that when you guys caught me, after we fell from the second floor, you didn't even care about me, the vicious criminal you were after. You rushed to check if Agent Hotcher was attacked. That gave me some guesses, but I couldn't confirm it until later. Agent Hotcher was my target anyway, although he was only a secondary target compared to you. I have to say, after Agent Hotcher was injured, I was very happy to see you lose your soul. "Foyet had a smug smile.
Foyet was spying on him? How was that possible? His vigilance shouldn't be that bad. Bruce didn't care about his mockery, but he couldn't believe the meaning behind his words. His hand that was cutting the rope paused. Soon, Bruce thought of a similar situation. "Those photos that were soaked in a special substance, were you the one who sent them to me?"
"Yes, it's a pity I couldn't see how you looked like back then. Those cost me a lot of money." Foyet asked with interest, "I'm curious, what is your fear?"
A lot of money? Bruce thought about the employment that the person who drove them to Arlington mentioned. That meant Foyet didn't have an accomplice, but where did he get the information from?
Of course, Bruce wouldn't answer Foyet's question. He just watched indifferently as Foyet discontentedly stabbed the knife into his body again.
"Let me guess, is it related to Agent Hotcher?" Foyet leaned closer to Bruce. "Tsk tsk, look at how fearless you are. It's okay, I think I'll find out soon enough. I'm happy to share my next plan with you. Poor Agent Hotcher will lose his ex-wife and son, and he'll know that your admirer is watching him coldly from the sidelines. What do you think he'll think? "Foyet held the handle of the knife and twisted it half a circle inside his body.
Bruce let out a muffled groan and gritted his teeth.
"Oh, I'm sorry, my actions were a bit rough. But don't worry, I know the human body well enough. These wounds have avoided the vital parts. After all, you'll have to watch a good show later." Foyet pulled out the knife and wiped it clean on Bruce's clothes that weren't stained with blood. Then, he sheathed the knife and turned to walk to the sofa.
Haley showed some fear when she saw Foyet's actions. When she saw Foyet walking over, she took two steps back. Foyet glanced at her, sat on the sofa, and took out his phone.
Bruce's heart sank slightly. When he heard Foyet's words, he couldn't help but wonder if Hotch would hate him if things really happened as Foyet said. He knew that he couldn't turn a blind eye to Haley and Jack's safety, but what if Hotch believed him? After all, he once said to the camera, "Do you think I care about them?" to make Foyet feel numb.
Bruce gripped the ice blade in his hand tightly. The ice blade that was originally less than the size of a palm had shrunk by a third in his hand. In order to prevent the ice blade from slipping off his hand, he gripped it tightly and didn't care if the ice blade cut his hand. The wound on his chest and the blood loss made him feel a little weak.
It wasn't easy for him to directly condense water vapor into ice and mold it into a specific shape, but what if he condensed water into ice or blood? Bruce gripped the ice blade tighter and let the blade pierce into his hand. Then, he tried to use the blood that flowed out to activate his ability. Soon, a frozen blood blade of suitable size appeared in his hand. It was unexpectedly easy, and a blood ring froze the blade to secure it in his hand. Bruce tried again and finally cut the rope around his wrist.
On the other side of the sofa, Foyet had already called Hotch. "Hello, Agent Hotcher."
"If you hurt her …" Hotch's voice came from the speaker. It seemed that the team had also realized that Foyet had captured Haley and Jack.
"I'll be gentle, just like how I am to you." Foyet's lips curled into a smile. When he said this, he glanced at Bruce who was a few meters away, tied to a chair facing the sofa. "Someone wants to say goodbye to you, Mrs. Hotcher?" Foyet addressed Haley and handed the phone to her.
Bruce held the rope that had been cut so that it wouldn't fall to the ground. His legs were still tied to the legs of the chair. He couldn't cut the rope around his ankles without attracting Foyet's attention. Foyet was some distance away from him. He had to think of a way to lure Foyet closer to him so that he could attack. After all, Foyet had a gun in his hand. He wasn't afraid that Foyet would shoot him, but if he didn't stop him in time …
“Aaron。” Haley, who had been trying her best to appear strong, had tears in her eyes. Her voice was choked with sobs.
"Haley, you have to be strong in front of him. You have to be fearless." Hotch's voice sounded a little shaky, unlike his usual deep and determined voice.
"I know." Haley wiped away the tears in her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm very sorry that we fell into his trap and landed us in this situation."
"It's okay, we're on our way."
"Oh, how long will it take? You probably went to Arlington? I purposely left it there. It's Agent Jones' phone. You should be able to find the location before the phone was turned off. " Foyet suddenly interjected. He changed the topic and said, "Aaron, did you tell her the truth? The truth of the deal? "
"Don't believe him." Hotch's voice sounded a little anxious.
"I think she should know this because she's about to meet God. This is all because of your arrogance," Foyet said calmly.
"Ignore him, Haley." Hotch emphasized.
"I knew you would hide it from him. The truth is, if he didn't come after me, you wouldn't be in this situation." Foyet looked at Haley with a strange smile.
"What is he talking about?" Haley seemed to understand something and asked Hotch in a low voice.
Bruce, who had been carefully moving his chair while paying attention to Foyet, finally couldn't help but stare at Haley. "This has nothing to do with Hotch. I was the one who rejected his offer and caught him." "That's right.
"Oh, Bruce, please don't interrupt the couple's farewell." Foyet gestured at Bruce with his gun and pointed at Haley. Bruce shut his mouth.
"Jones is beside you? Where's Jack? "Hotch asked.
"Bruce is watching from the side. Do you want to say goodbye to Jack too, Agent Hotcher?" Foyet smiled at Bruce maliciously.
"Jack is in his room." Haley kept wiping her eyes, trying not to let her tears fall.
"I'm sorry about everything. You shouldn't have to go through this." Bruce could hear Hotch's heavy breathing through the phone.
"You too." Haley watched as Foyet stood up and walked towards her with a gun in his hand. "Aaron, no matter what your relationship with Jones is, this has nothing to do with him. He tried his best to protect me and Jack," Haley said abruptly.
Bruce didn't expect Haley to say something like that. He was slightly taken aback. Foyet, on the other hand, was a little annoyed. "This is different from the script. Goodbye." He raised his gun at Haley.
Foyet was still some distance away from Bruce. At least, at this distance, Bruce couldn't reach Foyet even if he threw himself forward. However, the situation had reached its climax.
Bruce stood up and threw the dark red ice blade at Foyet's hand, but he immediately realized that he had made a mistake. That was not the dagger he was used to using. The dagger was coated with a strong anesthetic. Even if it was just a cut on the skin, it would cause immediate loss of consciousness around the injured area. However, even if the ice blade hit the target accurately, it would only injure the arm. It might not necessarily disarm the target.
Bruce's legs were tied together, and he leaped forward with the chair. The moment he landed on the ground, he pounced on Foyet again. He was extremely anxious because even though Foyet's arm was hit by the ice blade, the sudden pain caused him to shift the gun's muzzle away. However, he still held the gun tightly and ignored Bruce who was pouncing on him. He adjusted the angle of the muzzle and fired at Haley directly.
"Bang!" Bruce's heart sank when he heard the gunshot. He stared at the muzzle and desperately activated his ability. A layer of ice appeared out of thin air. It was only the size of a palm and blocked the muzzle of the gun. However, the layer of ice was too thin and the bullet pierced right through it.
At that moment, Bruce was already in front of Foyet. He grabbed Foyet's legs with both hands and dragged him down. Then, he clung onto Foyet's body and moved forward a little. He used his knees to pin down Foyet's lower body. He grabbed Foyet's wrist with one hand and controlled the direction of the gun's muzzle. With the other hand, he grabbed Foyet's neck and smashed his head on the ground a few times.
Foyet's body went limp and he lost consciousness. Bruce took the gun from his hand and put it away. He pulled out the dagger that was stuck in Foyet's chest and cut the ropes around his legs. He quickly ran toward Haley, who was lying on the ground.
In just two steps, he reached Haley's side. Bruce checked her condition. She was shot in the abdomen. This was definitely not where Foyet was aiming at, but the bullet could have entered her internal organs from this position.
Haley had not lost consciousness yet. She reached out weakly to Bruce who had reached her side.
"You'll be fine. Hang in there." Bruce used the dagger to cut his wrist and moved it to Haley's mouth. He let the blood drip into her mouth. "Drink it." Haley's consciousness was a little blurry, but she still made a swallowing motion.
Bruce let out a sigh of relief. He picked up the phone that had fallen beside Haley and quickly dialed a number. "Doctor, I need your help. After walking down the road from your house and passing through the activity square, there's a person in the first house who has been shot in the abdomen. He's losing a lot of blood.
"But I'm not at home. Send him to the emergency room."
However, Bruce knew very well how damaging a bullet at such a close distance could be. The vibration of the bullet hitting the flesh at high speed would cause a lot of damage. Furthermore, based on the amount of blood loss, even if the aorta was not damaged, it would most likely be the inferior vena cava. Even though his blood had some life-saving properties, he would not survive the ordeal.
"Is there no other way?" Bruce's voice was very low.
"Is this person very important to you?"
Hearing the doctor's question, Bruce immediately understood something. "Please save her. Please, I owe you one."
"Okay, I'll be there soon."
After hanging up, Bruce sat where he was in a daze. He was actually very weak at the moment. Even though the wound on his chest had stopped bleeding, that was all. He had already lost a lot of blood, and he was still losing blood from his wrist. Furthermore, the excessive use of his power had caused his head to throb with pain.
What he was more afraid of was how sad Hotch would be if Haley died.
Bruce's eyes were staring blankly. Suddenly, two people appeared at the door. One of them pushed the door open and walked in while the other disappeared.
The one who walked in was the doctor. He held a first aid kit and walked quickly to Bruce's side in the living room. "In order to get here as soon as possible, I asked someone to help me. It's a mutant whose superpower is speed. He went to drive my ambulance here. Is this her? " The doctor opened the first aid kit and quickly checked on Haley's condition. "Her condition is not bad. Her life is not in danger for now." He looked curiously at Bruce's action of feeding Haley his blood. "What are you doing?"
"I have the superpower of regeneration. My blood has a certain effect as well. However, once the blood leaves the body, it loses its effect very quickly." Bruce did not hide the truth.
"Oh, that's … That's amazing." The doctor's expression suddenly turned fanatical. "Do you mind if I study it for a while? Of course, not now."
"That depends on whether you can save her or not."
"Don't worry, she'll be fine. With your miraculous blood keeping her alive, I'll be ruining my reputation if I can't save her."
Soon, a large SUV stopped in front of Haley's house. A silver-haired man got out of the car and opened the back door to pull out a gurney. After sending Haley into the car, Bruce rejected the offer to go with him and walked back to the house.
He returned to the living room and picked up the bloody dagger that he had just pulled out from his chest. He walked to the unconscious Foyet and stabbed the dagger into Foyet's body expressionlessly.
Foyet woke up from the excruciating pain. First, he let out a scream. Then, he met Bruce's cold eyes. He quickly understood the situation. He waved his arms and struggled. His legs that were pinned down by Bruce's body were also wriggling.
Bruce pulled out the dagger and stabbed Foyet again, easily subduing him. At the same time, he counted down in a flat voice, "Two."
"What are you doing, Agent Jones?" Foyet seemed to want to remind Bruce of his identity.
Bruce was very clear-headed at this moment. His anger was suppressed at the bottom of his heart, and it did not leak out from his voice. "When you used to treat your victims like this, did you ever think this day would come?" He stabbed again. "Three."
"Hmm." Foyet suppressed the scream that was about to come out of his mouth. He tried to put on a mocking smile but unfortunately, his face only contorted. "I just never thought that an FBI agent would do the same thing as a serial killer."
"Four." Bruce was not affected by his words. "One hundred and seventy-four stabs, the sum of the number of stabs on all your victims. Now, I'll return the favor one stab at a time." He did not miss the fear in Foyet's eyes. "I hear you often stab yourself. Enjoy it."
At this moment, Bruce's blue shirt was almost stained with blood. From the places where the shirt was torn, one could see the hideous knife wounds. However, he seemed to be completely unaware of these. He just repeated the movements in his hands somewhat mechanically. His entire person appeared calm and strange.
"Wait, why are you doing this? You've already won. You can send me to prison and I'll stay there for the rest of my life." Foyet tried to stop him.
"Why do you do that when you stab others? That's why I'm doing it. Yes, it's very simple. It's because I want to. Five. " When Bruce pulled out the dagger, he placed it above Foyet's face, allowing the blood to drip on Foyet's face. "Don't worry, I'm very good at this. After one hundred and seventy-four stabs, you'll still be alive. Six. "
Foyet seemed to have given up on struggling. He slumped to the ground and took it. After a while, he covered his face with his hands and suddenly let out a strange laugh. The laughter grew louder and louder until he choked and coughed. When he stopped, he said, "So I've never known you, Agent Jones. You're indeed very good at this, even better than I am. But in order to be so familiar with the human body and the stabbing so skillfully, how many victims have you had? "He paused." How are you different from me? "
"Seven." His voice was still as calm as an ancient well. Bruce would not be affected by Foyet's words. This was a part of him to begin with, the real him under his usual gentle appearance.
"Do your colleagues know about this version of you? Does Agent Hotcher know about this version of you? "Foyet's voice was weak as if it took him a lot of energy to speak.
Bruce's hand paused.
Foyet did not miss this pause. He laughed maniacally again. "I really have to say that I admire you, a serial killer hidden in the FBI." He suddenly raised his head and leaned closer to Bruce. "Give up. It's impossible between you and Hotcher. Once he finds out the real you one day, are you going to kill him or be sent to prison by him?"
Although Foyet had imagined some things that didn't exist, such as Bruce being a serial killer or something like that, what would happen if Hotch one day found out about the trauma that he hadn't revealed? Bruce felt his heart sink.
But he would never hurt Hotch.
Bruce closed his eyes slightly and continued his movements. "Eight, nine …"
"I surrender. You're not really going to stab me more than a hundred times, are you?"
"Where did you get those photos and special drugs, and how did you hire someone to help you?" Bruce stopped and asked his questions.
"So you want to know this. Do you think I'll tell you?"
Hearing this, Bruce raised his dagger again. "Thirteen."
.....
Bruce finally got the information he wanted and completed the one hundred and seventy-four stabs he said. Although there were fewer and fewer places to stab, and instead of "stab", he did not stop until he counted to one hundred and seventy-four.
Foyet fainted a few times and was woken up by the pain. Now, he was lying on the ground covered in blood. Only the slight rise and fall of his chest told people that he was still alive and that he had gone mad. This could be considered as solving a problem. Bruce originally wanted to kill him so that Foyet could no longer threaten them. This way, he achieved his goal.
Bruce threw the dagger aside and staggered two steps when he stood up. His head was dizzy, and it took him a while to calm down.
At this moment, he suddenly thought of Jack. Although it had been less than half an hour since Jack had gone up, this short period of time made Bruce feel as if it had been a lifetime. He quickly got rid of the feeling and washed the blood off his hands in the kitchen. He took off his tattered shirt, picked up the jacket that Foyet took off when he was checking his weapons, and put it on. He buttoned it up to cover the wound on his chest.
There were three rooms on the second floor. He knocked on the door one by one, starting from the one closest to the stairs. Soon, he saw Jack holding a toy.
“Jack？ I'm Bruce. Can I come in? "Bruce smiled.
Jack did not say anything and nodded obediently.
Bruce walked to Jack and sat down. The floor was carpeted, and they were sitting by the window. The sun seemed to soften Bruce's eyes. "What are these?" He looked at the human-shaped toys in Jack's hand.
"This is Captain America." Jack raised the toy in his right hand. "This is the bad guy." The toy in his left hand. Then, Jack put the toys in both hands together. "Bang! Captain America defeated the bad guy."
Bruce felt his heart calm down when he heard the child's words. No matter what happened in the future, he had something to protect. "Is Captain America your favorite hero?" He patted Jack's head.
"No, Dad is my favorite hero."
Hearing this, Bruce smiled warmly again.
"Bruce, can you tell me a story? Mom always tells me stories. I like to listen to stories. "
"Of course." Bruce thought for a while and realized that he did not remember any fairy tales at all. Even if he did, it was a strange mix of dark versions. He suddenly thought of something. "Once upon a time, there was a little boy who defeated the demon king when he was one year old. He was the savior of the magic world."
"Bruce, what's the magic world?"
"Uh, it's …"
.....
As he talked, he vaguely heard something moving downstairs. Before he could go down to investigate, the door was kicked open.
"FBI." Hotch barged in with a gun, followed by Morgan. Bruce did not miss the relieved look on Hotch's face when he saw Jack.
"Where's Haley?" Hotch did not put down the gun in his hand.
Bruce heard his question and looked at the muzzle of the gun. A bitter feeling spread in his heart. He knew that they must have seen Foyet when they came up. "Haley was shot. She was sent to the emergency room." Unable to bear to see Hotch nervous, Bruce quickly added, "It's not serious. She'll be fine."
"Get Jack here."
Bruce looked at the muzzle that was still pointed at him and felt a little annoyed. Would he hurt Jack in Hotch's eyes?
Jack was sitting on Bruce's lap. He looked at Hotch and then Bruce in confusion. "Daddy, why are you pointing a gun at Bruce? Is Bruce a bad guy?"
Bruce patted his head. "What do you think?"
"I like Bruce."
Morgan walked past Hotch from behind and took two steps forward. He had already put away his gun. He spread his hands. "Hey, Bruce, you're not going to do anything to Jack, are you? Let him come here. "
Bruce did not look at Hotch who was holding a gun. He glanced at Morgan and lowered his head to pat Jack's back. "Go, go to your father."
Jack nodded obediently. He stood up with Bruce's help and walked over. After two steps, he turned back. "Bruce, will you still tell me stories? That's so interesting."
Bruce looked into the eyes of the five-year-old boy. He had a pair of pure dark brown eyes, similar to his father's but without the richness of age. He pursed his lips and smiled gently for the first time since Hotch barged in. "Of course, as long as you want."
The boy immediately returned a smile and walked over to his father. Soon, he was in the man's arms. "Daddy, I miss you so much."
"I miss you too." Hotch walked out of the room with Jack in his arms.
"Although what you did to Foyet was satisfying, you were too impulsive this time." Morgan took out the handcuffs and shook them. "This is a necessary procedure."
Bruce allowed Morgan to handcuff his hands behind his back. Just as he was about to be sent into the police car, he slowed down and stopped. "Wait, I think this counts as self-defense." When the officers at the side snorted at his words, he staggered and almost fell to the ground.
"What's wrong with you, Bruce?" Morgan, who was behind him, held him up.
"I'm hurt."
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