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Apocalypto	By : hatochiisai Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 3245 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, nor do I make any financial profit off of writing and posting this work.

Chapter List
- 1-Apocalypto
- 1
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Criminal Minds, Mel Gibson or his "Apocalypto". I also do not own "Auld Lang Syne" or Sinatra's "New York, New York".
SLASH! Hotch/Reid

December 29st
Quantico, Virginia

Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid clamored into the car, Reid clutching at oddly silent cat carrier.
"He is SO drugged up…" Reid chuckled, peering into the carrier. A large, flat faced ginger furr ball stared back with glassy, dilated eyes.
"I already like him better." Hotch smirked, and Reid gave Hotch a look, but then went back to staring at the creature in the carrier.
"Hey, 'Kaze!" Reid crooned as Hotch pulled out of the parking lot and cranked up the head.
"What's wrong, cat?" Hotch snorted. "Lose something?"
"Aaron, that's not nice!" Reid scolded, unable to hold back a grin.
"I can't wait to see him with that stupid cone on."
"Do NOT torment my cat." Reid snorted.
"Oh, that cat is evil and I am not about to let this opportunity pass me by." Hotch chuckled, pulling onto the highway.
"You're a jerk!"
"Says the guy who neutered his poor cat on New Years Eve." Hotch pointed out. "Didn't even give him one last night on the town."
"He had that last week when he mated Alice's cat." Reid grumbled, scowling as he recalled when his fiery red-headed neighbor down the street had threatened to sue him for Feline Child Support after she had caught Reid's Kamikaze humping her Olive in her front yard. Fortunately, Alice's girlfriend of several years, Samira, stepped in. Hotch grinned as he remember the exact same thing, though he was still wondering what the world was coming to when people were arguing over Feline Paternity and Child support for their "stupid cats".
Then, Hotch's phone went off.
"Hotchner. Alright… how many? Where? Alright. Call in the team."
"Case?" Reid asked.
"Yes." Hotch said, and sped up. The rest of the car drive was spent in silence, and upon getting home, Hotch allowed Reid to just do his thing and set up Kamikaze's "Isolation Ward", as Hotch called it, in the downstairs bathroom of the guest room.
Once Reid had wrestled the drugged cat into his e-collar and left him a small amount of food, he found Hotch waiting for him, Go Bags ready.
"I left Alice and Samira a voicemail that we're leaving and wrote down instructions for Kamikaze's after care."
"Alright." Reid nodded. "Let's go."
Hotch and Reid were the first to arrive at the Bureau, though the others weren't far behind. Emily actually rode up with them in the elevator. They headed into the round table room, and JJ joined them three minutes later. Rossi was seven minutes after JJ, and Morgan was a good twelve minutes after Rossi. He ignored the glare Hotch shot in his direction.
"Congratuations, Crime Fighters!" Garcia announced, striding into the room in all her glittery glory and then breaking into song. "Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today! I want to be a part of it, New York, New York!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa… Hold up." Morgan said, an excited grin on his face. "Baby Girl, are you serious? We're going to New York? For New Years?!"
"Please." Hotch said firmly, effectively cutting off Garcia's answer. "We're going for business, not pleasure."
Garcia deflated slightly, but nodded and lifted her little remote control.
"You are going to New York City for New Years because they have one nasty serial killer."
"Okay… what's the connection that makes them think they have a serial?" Morgan asked.
"… This." Garcia said, and flipped to a new picture. It showed all the victims, their pictures side by side. "They were all covered in blue dye, tortured, had their hearts cut out… and the same thing was burned into their chests."
"… The Mayan Calendar." Reid stated needlessly.
"Yes." Garcia nodded. "There's been a killing a day ever since December 22nd."
"Well, I think that fits the bill for a serial killer." Morgan grunted.
"… Someone mad that the world didn't end?" Emily asked, a bewildered look on her face. Garcia just bit her lip and shrugged.
"What methods of torture are we looking at here, Garcia?" Rossi asked, flipping through his file.
"Um… the victims' tongue, ears, face and uh… genitals, all had fresh piercings…"
"Guys…" Reid said, also flipping through the file. "These are all rituals of the Mayan people. Often, they would take male prisoners of war, dye them blue and then cut out their hearts, still beating. The Mayan people themselves would honor the gods through ritualistic bloodletting, in which they pierced themselves, most commonly through the tongue, ears and genitals."
"They honored their gods with a Prince Albert? Nice." Emily snorted, now grinning.
"The blood from the genitals was considered especially honorable, as it was believed to hold regenerative properties." Reid added, and Emily sighed and shook her head.
"… Hm… Coroner's report says that the victims' fingernails had been removed…" JJ mumbled, looking over said report.
"That was also something the Mayans did…" Reid chirped. "Although… cutting out the heart like that is more attributed to the Aztec people… the Mayans performed this ritual more commonly on animals, than people…"
"What was the point of these rituals, Reid?" Hotch asked, looking up at his lover. Reid frowned.
"Well… it was often used to appease the gods if some dramatic imbalance occurred… drought, disease… things like that…"
"If someone thought that an imbalance had occurred… like the end of the world NOT happening… could they be doing this to try and correct the balance?" Morgan asked.
"Sacrificial killings to bring about the end of the world?" JJ asked, looking baffled. "Wouldn't it make more sense to make a sacrifice to PREVENT the end of the world?"
"Would to me." Morgan snorted.
"Well… if they believed that the lack of an apocalypse goes against the destiny of the world…" Reid shrugged. "The thing is… the Mayan Calendar just ends. But it doesn't ever indicate that the world shall end with it. It says nothing about an apocalypse. Supposedly, the end of the Calendar just means the beginning of a new cycle in history."
"The victims were all naked, and posed?" Emily asked, looking up from her tablet.
"Naked and spread-eagle." Hotch nodded, looking at the same information Emily was.
"Another thing the Mayans did." Reid piped up again. "Removing the fingernails, exposing the breasts and genitals to humiliate, and then starving their captives were the most common methods of torture."
"We need to get going." Hotch announced. "We're getting a victim a day. Wheels up in twenty minutes." And the team stood, gathered their Go Bags and headed out.

They were not quite half an hour into their flight when Garcia appeared on the laptop.
"Okay, crime fighters… I have some good news, bad news, worse news, worst news, and the downright obnoxious news."
"Go ahead and give it to us in that order." Hotch sighed.
"Okay, good news… It's New Years in New York… but I managed to secure you guys a decent hotel near the precinct that's heading up a case. I had to threaten them with the FBI thing, but I got them… otherwise, you guys would have been at the ever-so-classic No-Tell Motel in Jersey."
"Good work, Garcia." Rossi nodded appreciatively.
"The bad news?" Hotch asked.
"… The cops went to the press." Garcia sighed, and JJ winced.
"The worse news?" Hotch asked, frowning.
"They set up a tip line and are getting… SWAMPED with calls that the homeless guy down the street who has been waving signs that the end is near for the past twenty years is the killer."
JJ groaned. "Great… this is going to be a media nightmare."
"And the worst, Garcia?" Hotch asked.
"… A new body was just discovered. Dan Bryant, 23, was just found in Central Park, dyed blue, fingernails missing, heart cut out and the uh… Calendar burned into his chest…"
"Tell them not to touch it, Garcia." Hotch ordered. "We'll head straight there when we land."
"Aye aye, Cap'n!"
"What's the obnoxious news?" JJ asked. Everyone looked at Garcia.
"… The press has dubbed our killer, 'Apocalypto'…" Garcia sighed.
"… Mel Gibson will be thrilled." Rossi drawled.

Reid shivered as he, Morgan and Emily trooped across the frozen ground of Central Park. Hotch and Rossi had gone to set up at the police station, and JJ had hit the ground running, trying to gain some semblance of control over the media.
The grass crunched underfoot, and as they approached the crime scene, they could hear the clamor from the press and curious civilians buzzing at the edge of the crime scene tape. Morgan shoved his way through the crowd, Prentiss and Reid following close in his wake. They ducked under the tape and flashed their badges to the officer who was running to intercept them, an angry, harassed look on his face.
"Oh. Right." He said, and relief washed over him. "I've already had to escort two reporters back across the line." And he looked at the fourth person who was with Morgan, Prentiss and Reid.
"I'm with them." She said with a smile.
"Uh… No you're not." Emily said, eyeing the brazen woman.
"What? You'll vouch for me, won't you, Derek?" The woman asked. Morgan turned to face her fully, and eyed her up and down.
"… Who the hell are you and how do you know my name?" He demanded, looking warily at her.
"She covered one of the cases we worked on here about a year ago." Reid stated calmly. "She had the hots for you."
"Right…" Morgan drawled. "No, officer, she's not with us. I don't even know her name."
"It's –"
"Reid. I also don't care." Morgan chuckled, and they walked away from the woman, who was throwing an absolute hissy fit as she was dragged back to the other side of the crime scene tape. Emily chuckled.
"Nice going, Morgan. You've got yourself a reporter trying to bat her eyes and you and get an exclusive on the crime scene."
"Yeah. Just what I need." Morgan snorted.
"think of it this way… if we're here New Years Eve, you might have had someone to kiss!" Emily laughed. Morgan grinned and chuckled.
"Aw, man… and here I thought you would indulge me, princess."
"Ewww…" Reid mumbled, making Morgan and Emily laugh.
But then they reached the body, which was covered by a tarp, and all playfulness left. Their professionalism slid neatly into place and they all knelt as Morgan drew the tarp back. The Medical Examiner knelt across the body from them.
"Liver temp confirms that he died about three and a half hours ago." She said, looking at the agents and answering their unasked question.
"COD?" Morgan asked.
"Same as the others." The Medical Examiner said. "His heart was cut out of his chest ante-mortem… it was still beating. He exsanguinated. I'm not sure, because the burn," she indicated the Mayan Calendar, "happened at about the same time, but I think that the burn was done just before the killer sliced open this poor man's gut to get the heart."
The three profilers spend nearly an hour inspecting the body and pouring over the crime scene, ignoring the reporters and the cameras and the civilians, both the morbidly fascinated, and the half hysterical. They were grateful to pile into the car and head to the station where hot coffee was waiting. Hotch, JJ and Rossi were all holding cups of it when they arrived. Reid made a beeline for Hotch, eyes on the cup, and the team chuckled. And then they all buckled down and got to work. Reid poured over maps, marking abduction and dump sites and trying to come up with a geographic profile.
Morgan and Emily worked with Garcia on victimology and Hotch went through the forensic reports while Rossi went over the interviews with possible witnesses. But they soon retired to their hotel… they had arrived in the afternoon… half of the day had been lost. Hotch had casually hinted that the NYPD shouldn't have waited so long to call them in. The cops hadn't liked that insinuation at all…

The next morning, the team arrived in the station, ready to give the profile.
"We're looking for a man in his thirties." Hotch announced, looking around at the assembled officers and detectives from numerous precincts. "He's intelligent and well educated, and has extensive knowledge of the Mayan people… He may even be a descendent of the Mayans, but we cannot rule out anyone because of race at this time. He may simply have studied them in great detail, but his knowledge will not be surprising. It's likely that it's a hobby that he is devoted to, or studied it in school."
"This UnSub has gone out of the way to spread out his activity." Morgan announced, gesturing to the map. "He's keeping to the island. Our only pattern so far, is that he dumps the bodies in city parks, and doesn't go to great lengths to hide them. He wants them to be found. He has no fear of being caught… and unless we catch him, he's going to keep killing. Not only that, but if he is indeed working towards a goal, his kills may not remain as spaced out. One a day may not be enough for him here soon."
"What goal?" A female officer asked.
"This is just speculation at this time." Reid announced, pointing at a photo on the board. "As you can see, he is burning the Mayan Calendar into the victims' chest, and the killings started December 22nd… the day after the supposed Apocalypse that Mayan Calendar "predicted"," Reid said, holding up two fingers on each hand to mimic quotation marks in his attempt to emphasize the inaccuracy.
"Right now," Emily chimed in, "We're operating under the assumption that this man believed that the Apocalypse was supposed to happen, but something went horribly wrong and it didn't… he is trying to right that wrong and bring about the Apocalypse through human sacrifice." And everyone turned to Reid again.
He cleared his throat and brightened, and his hands were soon gesticulating wildly as he launched into lecture mode. "Whenever there were times of trouble, or an imbalance, as the Mayans saw it, be it floods, droughts or plague, they would offer sacrifice to the gods. The Mayan people themselves would perform bloodlettings. In religious ceremonies, they would peirce themselves in the ears, the nose, the lips, the face… women would draw a rope or wire through their tongues, and men would pierce the foreskin—" Several cops winced "- in fact, it was believed that the most powerful blood was that which came from the penis or the vagina of young pubescent men and women, especially of high rank. The blood was collected and smeared over idols… There's actually one account of young men and women standing in a line and piercing their genitals and drawing a string through it, one after the other, so that they were all linked and-"
"Reid." Hotch interrupted.
"Oh. Sorry."
"Why the hell would they do THAT?!" One man blurted.
"These rituals were often performed by the nobility to honor and communicate with the gods and their ancestors." Reid explained. "They would also smoke tobacco, fast, and perform ritual enemas in order to enter a trance to have these communications." Everyone made faces at that one, and Morgan, Hotch and Rossi slowly turned and quirked an eyebrow at Reid, while JJ and Emily exchanged sighs and grimaces.
"He doesn't pull any punches, does he?" Emily murmured to JJ, who grinned.
"Spence? Never!"
But Reid kept going, not evening noticing peoples' disgust. "These rituals were performed in private in the temples, and also in public in great celebrations. They would be done on important dates, like the Mayan New Year, for deaths, births and marriages, the coronation of new rulers, and at the beginning and end of battles and wars."
"What about the blue stuff and cutting out the heart?!" One detective called out.
"That is about human sacrifice." Reid replied calmly. Hotch sat down on the edge of a desk… best to leave the rest of this discussion to Reid. The others followed suit, taking up chairs and perching on desks.
"Male prisoners of war were enslaved and kept as offerings for sacrifice." Reid began.
"What about women?" Someone interrupted.
"They were either sold into slavery or…" Reid smiled and shrugged. "Just set free. Usually if they were too old or unattractive enough that no one wanted them as a slave."
"Lucky them." Someone muttered.
"Indeed!" Reid chirped eagerly. "The men were living on borrowed time! They could be sacrificed on any occasion, such as on the eclipse, on a new king assuming the throne… Now, some research has led us to believe that the people would pray to their gods to assistance in a battle or war, and in exchange, they promised to repay the god for his or her assistance by giving them the defeated men as a sacrifice.
"But ultimately, for some reason, the Mayan people believed that to keep the world in balance they had to keep the gods happy, and to please the gods, they had to regularly offer blood sacrifice. And so if something fell out of balance, the way to set it right was, of course, with the sacrifice of human life! The most common way was the removal of the heart. The sacrifice would be covered in blue dye, and four men would pin down the victim's arms and legs, while a fifth would make an incision and then reach into the chest cavity and pull out the heart while it was still beating. The heart would then be presented to the temple's idol."
Several people looked sick.
"But they would also fire arrows through the victim's heart, skin them alive, decapitate them, or throw them into a cenote."
"What's that?" Someone asked.
"Uh, there are sinkholes and linked underground caves in Central America." Reid said. "Giant limestone pits in the ground. And they're filled with water. These were often seen as gateways to the Underworld."
"Oh…"
Someone else suddenly called out, "Is it true that they sacrificed someone every day to make sure the sun rose?!"
"They would sacrifice some THING every day." Reid answered. "Not always humans, though. Now, this UnSub has not been doing that, thankfully."
"But… if he wants the world to end, why do something that the Mayans did to keep the sun rising?" Asked a lady at the front of the group.
"The sun has continually risen, and that is the problem." Reid said. "He is performing these sacrifices because the sun needs to stop rising and he believes that the world needs to end."
Morgan finally stood to wrap things up. "This man is delusional, and it's only a matter of time before he begins to devolve. Already the kills have been coming faster. The bodies are being found earlier and earlier in the day and… we should be prepared for another to be found… any time."
No sooner had Morgan said this, than phones began to ring. The captain put down his phone and looked at Morgan. "I hate to say it, but you're right. We've got one in Battery Park."
"Let's go." Hotch nodded, and the team moved.

Hotch and Reid knelt down beside the body, taking in the stark blue of the dye.
"Same as the others." Hotch murmured.
"Something is bothering you…" Reid said softly.
"It was something you said when talking about the human sacrifices."
"Oh?"
"You mentioned that… four men hold the victim down and the fifth cuts out the heart." Reid paused, and then looked up at Hotch with a frown. Hotch met Reid's gaze. "Spencer… we never even considered that this might be a pack."
"But… there's no bruising from hands." Reid pointed out.
"But there are no ligature marks, either." Hotch argued. Reid frowned in thought and turned back to the body as the Medical Examiner joined them.
"Well… I'd say good morning, but…" she trailed off, pulling a large thermometer and stabbing it into the body. After a minute she nodded. "TOD is approximately one hour ago…" She said. "Once I can get the official temperature out here I can narrow that down for you.
"I'll have the others start talking to witnesses and… Reid?" Hotch asked, seeing his fiancé tense.
Suddenly, Reid's frown deepened and he pulled on a pair of bright blue gloves, and leaned in closer to the body. "How extensive as your exam been on the burns?" Reid asked, his voice soft and thoughtful.
"Not much… I've had my hands full." The Medical Examiner admitted. "This time of year is busy. Drunk drivers, fires from irresponsibility with the fire place and candles, and a couple of suicides… Why?"
"… I think that I see…" And he trailed off and ran his fingers over the black burns on the blue-dyed skin.
"Reid?" Hotch asked, slowly, and the team leaned in, seeing that something had caught the genius' attention. Reid cocked his head and laid both hands on the man's chest, and pushed out slightly. Emily and Morgan's eyes widened. Red lines appeared, where the skin had been split open in a couple of places.
"I'll be damned…" the Medical Examiner mused, then cursed. "Shit!"
"There are cuts on his chest." Reid announced. "And the burn covered them." He looked up. "I need to see the other bodies."
"You and me both, kid… you and me both." The Medical Examiner said. "I'll give you a lift when I pack this guy up."

It was nearly five hours later that the team stood in the conference room with the captain and several detectives.
"All the bodies had cuts on them, which were hidden by the Calendar burn." Reid announced. "And not only that, but Hotch… you were right. There's some light bruising that we hadn't been able to see because of the dye… these men were held down by HAND as they were tortured." Reid took a deep breath. "We're looking for a pack. And not only that, but we got a Tox report back. They all had simple over the counter medications in them that can cause drowsiness… this would have made it a bit easier to restrain them."
"So what do we do now?!" The captain blurted, looking alarmed. "I got a GROUP of killers?!"
"Chances are, it's only one man doing the actual killing." Morgan said, trying to calm the man down. "The alpha. Packs have hierarchies, whether they're animals or men. One dominant man will call the shots… and have all the fun. The others do as they're told. But that doesn't mean they're not willing."
"But now I have five of these guys to catch!"
"Catching one of the submissive men in the pack will be easier." Rossi said. "They're not as smart. And once you catch them, they will be easier to break and faster to turn on the others."
"The others will also probably be younger." JJ said. "Mid to late twenties."
This offered the captain little comfort. He sunk into a chair and put his head into his hands. "How do we FIND them?!" He wailed.
Morgan grinned. "We put some magic fingers to work." He declared, and set his phone down on the table. It rang twice, and then was answered.
"So tell me, gorgeous… Are you gonna go to Times Square tomorrow night in a hot and sexy tux, or make my wildest dreams come true and go in nothing but a New Year sash and top hat?"
All the cops in ear shot STARED.
"You're on speaker, Garcia." Morgan grinned.
"… Curses. You always foil my fiendish plots like that!"
"No games now, crazy girl. We need you."
"We neec?"
"I want you." Morgan snickered.
"Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' about. What do you need, crime fighters?"

It was after eleven pm when Hotch walked into the conference room, and sighed.
"Spencer?"
"Hm?"
"Come on. It's time to get some rest."
"What?" Reid asked, lifting his head. He blinked around himself, startled. He was all alone.
"The others have gone to the hotel. It's nearly midnight." Hotch said, walking over to Reid and looking down. The photos before Reid all showed the burn marks on the victims. "What are you working on?" Hotch asked.
"The cuts on their chests…" Reid sighed. "I'm trying to figure out… WHY the UnSub made them…"
"You can work on it later, Spence…"
"No… I just… I have this feeling that its important."
"It is." Hotch nodded. "Everything they do is important. Everything they do is something else that will help us catch them."
"I know." Reid nodded, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing sleepy eyes. Hotch looked over the drawings Reid had done on several sheets of paper, mimicking the cuts. Then he gathered them and stacked them up.
"Come on, Reid. Time for bed."
"Alright…" Reid exhaled and reluctantly stood, casting a glance down at the stack of drawings as he walked away from them. He made a double take.
"Oh." He gasped.
"What?"
"Hotch… Hotch, that's it! You did it!"
"What?" Hotch asked, frowning and walking over.
"Look!" Reid cried, leaning over the drawings. Hotch looked down. Reid was tracing the lines on the top page, and then began to trace the lines from the page below, that could be seen showing faintly through the top page, and then, barely noticeable, the page below that.
"It's a map." Reid gasped. Hotch straightened, stunned, and watched Reid hurry over to the dry erase board and pick up a marker. He copied the lines from the first page, tossed it aside, and then moved on to the second page, and then the third and fourth… all the way through until he had drawn the lines from the latest victim.
"Oh my God…" Reid breathed, and turned to Hotch, eyes wide in horror. "I think I know what he's planning to do."

The atmosphere in the precinct was far from cheerful two hours later when the team and detectives had all gathered. Now nearly 2 am, to say that most were cranky was an understatement. But a thick anticipation hung in the air…
"I'm sorry to have woken everyone." Hotch began. "But we may have made a major, and worrisome, break in the case."
Reid stepped up then. "You there Garcia?" He called.
"Atomic batteries to power and turbines to speed!" Garcia called from the laptop.
"Ready then?"
"Roger! Ready to move out, Boy Wonder!"
Several detectives who understood the reference grinned and chuckled.
"Alright." Reid said, and faced the room. "As you all probably heard, it was discovered that the victims all had cuts on their chests which were covered by the burns." Photos of the victims appears on the large screen, courtesy of Garcia. "I had drawn copies of the patterns down on some papers." The cuts on the bodies were highlighted, and then the photos faded away, leaving just the lines that were cut into them. A couple of hours ago, I saw Hotch stack the papers, and I could see three pages placed on top of each other. And they created…" He gestured to the screen behind him. One by one, the drawings were transposed on top of one another. "A map." Reid announced. "A map of a section of this island to be exact." And a map of Manhattan appeared, and slowly slid over the drawings. Sure enough, they matched exactly. "And here, the face in the very middle of Calendar falls right… here." And the Calendar appeared. Reid tapped the screen.
"All this time, These men have been killing these men to appease the gods. But the Mayans, and especially the Aztecs, would perform mass sacrifices if they were trying to right an imbalance, as these men believe they are doing. They've been killing these victims every day, and carving these maps into them, showing their final intention. They're planning a mass sacrifice to take place… here." Reid turned and faced the room.
"Times Square." Reid said, and took a deep breath. "The New Years Eve Celebration."
The room all but exploded. Everyone was shouting to be heard over one another, and in the din, no one could hear anyone. The team calmly waited for order to re restored. It took nearly ten minutes.
"Why the hell would these guys draw maps on the bodies? Are they some… sick Batman villain wannabe's?!" One detective asked.
"I think it's more likely," Reid replied, "that in their delusions, they think they they are sending a message of their plans to the gods. Not to the police. They're telling the gods that a blood feast is coming."
"Either way, we need to get to work on this right away." Morgan announced. "Or thousands could die."
Then Hotch said, "At this time, we need to approach it from two angles. We need to pursue them like UnSubs… and prepare Times Square like we've received a Terror Threat."

Hotch slowly walked down the darkened hallway. At the end of it stood his lover, staring out the window at the hint of dawn on the horizon.
"Spencer?" Hotch called gently, the hubbub of the precinct heard faintly behind him.
"… They should have called us in sooner." Reid said, his voice low and angry. "Hundreds of the thousands of peoples' lives are now at risk. We should have them cancel—"
"The mayor won't hear it." Hotch interrupted.
"I know he wouldn't. But still… hundreds of thousands, Hotch."
"… I know." Hotch whispered, gently placing his hands on Reid's upper arps and rubbing them up and down as he bowed his head, leaning over Reid's shoulder and burying his nose in Reid's tousled hair. He inhaled the scent of his lover, and gently kissed the white throat. Reid sighed and leaned back into the man.
"What if they HADN'T called us in?" Hotch murmured. "At least now… we know what we're up against."
"Do we?" Reid asked. "We have to catch five men out of hundreds of thousands… It's a needle in a haystack."
"Or a needle in a pile of needles?" Hotch teased, and Reid finally smiled, turning to face the Unit Chief.
"… What if we fail?" Reid asked, fear in his tone.
Hotch enveloped Reid in his arms and held him close, saying "We don't."
"Excuse me, Agent, but we—" The detective trailed off as Hotch and Reid hastily separated. "Oh… I uh… I'm sorry… was I… interrupting something?" She asked, eyes darting back and forth between the pair.
"No, not at all." Hotch said, facing her. "What is it."
"Um… your computer lady is on the phone."
"Garcia. Alright." Hotch said. "I'm coming." The detective glanced between the men again, then nodded and left. Hotch turned to Reid. "You coming?"
"In a minute." Reid whispered.
Hotch frowned. "… Spencer?"
"I'm fine. I just…" Reid sighed and turned his back on Hotch, staring out the window again.
"Don't be too long." Hotch said gently and walked away, sensing his lover's need for space.
Reid arrived about fifteen minutes later, and was looking around.
"What's going on?" He asked, seeing the activity. SWAT was preparing for what looked like a raid.
"We have a name." Hotch said, grimly.
"Miguel Tzacum." Morgan announced, dropping down a Drivers License Photo.
"Well… THAT sounds Mayan." Reid mumbled, staring at the photo of a man with darkly tanned skin, dark hair and beady black eyes under a pronounced brow. "He LOOKS like he could be descended from the ancient Central American peoples…"
"That's because he IS." Emily said. "He's on a geneaology website and he's traced his lineage back hundreds of years… sheer luck if you ask me. He's got a lot of Mayan in him, and even a bit of Aztec."
"He's at the University of Albany." JJ said, looking at Reid. "Guess what his major is?"
"Mesoamerican studies?" Reid asked.
"Bingo." JJ grinned. "They have an Institute of Mesoamerican Studies. On December 21st, he disappeared. But his debit card was used here in New York two days ago."
"Do we know who his partners are?" Reid asked.
"Uh… About that…" JJ said slowly. Reid looked around. The team did not look pleased.
"What?" Reid asked.
"He uh… he took a room at a hotel just down the street from a psychiatric patient halfway house." Morgan sighed. "Four patients went missing that day, and Tzacum disappeared from his room. None of them have been seen since…" Reid's eyes darkened.
"He's convinced psych patients to help him?!" The young man demanded, anger in his tone. The team remained silent… They all knew that Reid was furious… especially when they watched his long, normally elegant fingers curl into harsh fists. "… I'm coming with you." He snarled, and pulled on a ballistics vest.
Needless to say, NYPD, SWAT and FBI Agents taking over a seedy little motel in Manhattan caused quite the excitement. But sadly, the only thing that was said when they burst into the room that Tzacum was supposed to be staying in was "CLEAR!"
Tzacum, and whoever was with him, were gone. "At this point," Hotch was heard saying, "we have to assume that they're on the move. We need to set up checkpoints at every access point to Times Square. No one gets in without being searched."

"That's impossible!" The Mayor was howling.
"MAKE IT possible, or you'll be dealing with a massacre." Hotch snapped, striding down the corridors of city hall later that morning. "You need metal detectors, SWAT on standby and have the National Guard on alert. I have two members of my team going over his hotel room and sent two others to go through his dorm room at Albany and my Technical Analyst is going through his computer which Albany police seized for us. But we still don't know what he's planning."
"You know he's planning to attack Times Square!" The Mayor snapped.
"But how?" Reid pointed out. "Is he going to fire into the crowd? And if so, with what? Will it be a bomb? A biological weapon? We don't know." The Mayor was looking near panicked now.
"You either need to cancel, or take the necessary precautions." Hotch continued, his voice hard. Reid reached between them, where their long coats would hide it, and brushed his fingers over the back of his lover's hand. Hotch briefly caught Reid's hand and squeezed it in thanks.
"Well… You tell me what I need to do, Agent Hotchner." The Mayor sighed, reluctantly.
"Hotch?"
"Yes?" Hotch asked, looking at Reid.
"I'm gonna call Sean." Reid said. Hotch blinked several times, and then realization settled over his face. Relief and gratitude glowed in his eyes. But he simply nodded, and hurried away with the mayor. Reid scuttled into a little alcove and pulled out his phone…
It rang four times.
"Heeeeello?" Came the curiously cheerful greeting.
"Sean… It's Spencer." Reid murmured, softly.
"… Spencer? Hey! What's up? Is… Is Aaron—"
"He's fine." Reid assured the man quickly.
"Oh, thank God… Okay then… what's up?"
"Well… I don't know if you know this, but uh, we're in town and—"
"Oh, the Apocalypse Killer or Apocalypto or whatever, right? You working that case?"
"Uh… yeah. We are."
"Mmm. Sounds fun." Sean drawled, voice dripping ins sarcasm. Reid smiled slightly.
"Loads." He snorted. "But listen… about tonight… do you have any… plans?"
"Oh! You guys wanna get together for New Years?! Yeah, I had some plans but hey, I got my brother and future brother-in-law, let me take you guys out on the town! It's New Years, we'll go to Times Square and—"
"NO!" Reid cried, eyes widening. Sean went silent. "Sean… Listen to me very carefully, and whatever you do, do NOT repeat this… this is classified and Aaron and I could lose our jobs if anyone finds out I talked to you about this… We think that there's more than one killer and they're planning to hit Times Square tonight."
"Oh my God…"
"Sean, Aaron has a lot to worry about, I wanted to give him something LESS… Please… Stay away from Times Square."
"Alright. I read you loud and clear." Sean said, softly. "You guys gonna be okay?"
"Depends on whether or not the Mayor co-operates with Aaron." Reid sighed, leaning against the wall and glancing around to verify that he was still alone.
"Nice." Sean snorted. "Well… you guys be careful."
"We will…" Reid mumbled, and then steeled up his courage and blurted out "Hey Sean?!"
"… Yyyyeah?"
"How was everything after um… After Christmas Eve?"
"You mean, how did the family take Aaron and your engagement?"
"… yeah."
"Well… mother, thankfully, had the sense to hold her tongue until Jack went to bed… But I'm not gonna trust her around Jack unsupervised. I don't think Haley will, either."
"Oh?"
"Mother went on and on about how we all have to do everything possible to make sure that Aaron doesn't marry some little 'heathen son of Sodom' and burn in the fires of hell for all eternity because of it."
"Lovely…" Reid sighed, wincing.
"And then talked about cutting him out of the Will and disowning him until he comes to his senses. I told her she would be wasting her time, that Aaron wouldn't give a damn. And then I told her that she could cut me out of the Will and disown me, and that wouldn't stop me from being Aaron's Best Man, and that she needs to get over it and get with the times and come to grips that beliefs like that are the reasons that we still don't have a Republican President." Reid snorted back a laugh at that one.
"How about… Haley?"
"She… didn't really want to talk about it. Of course, Jessica grilled her as soon as Jack went to bed. Haley said that she knew about you guys, but didn't know you were engaged…"
"Right." Reid nodded.
"Her parents I think are kind of… Shell Shocked." Sean admitted. "Considering how vocal they were when Aaron refused to quit the BAU for Haley, they were… oddly quiet about this. But I wouldn't worry too much about them… It's mother I'm worried about."
"Oh?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if she tried something Spencer… so… heads up, okay?"
"Okay." Reid sighed. "Well… Thanks, I guess."
"Hey Spencer?"
"Hm?"
"Take care of my brother."
Reid smiled. "I will… bye." And he hung up, and went to find Hotch and the mayor…

NYPD managed to procure an office overlooking Times Square at the last minute. All access to Times Square was being limited and funneled through five checkpoints… Hotch, Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi and JJ were each stationed at one with numerous members of the NYPD and National Guard, with SWAT and a bomb squad discretely on standby. Everyone had pictures of Tzacum and the four missing pysch patients. Reid and Garcia (who had been flown in that afternoon) were in the office, heading up central command for the operation. It was hours before the Ball was to drop, and people were already showing up by the hundred. Police were doing inspections on everyone, similar to what the TSA did in the airports… many New Year party goers were thoroughly irritated.
Reid was standing at the large window, overlooking Times Square, which was quickly filling up…
"I can't believe this is happening." Garcia whimpered, her fear obvious in her voice. Reid took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
"We'll stop them." He said, taking Garcia's hand. She clung to it tightly and smiled up at Reid. He looked down at her, and smiled back. She hugged him, grateful for the brave front he was putting up for her sake… but she knew how tense he was.
"You doing okay?" She asked, and Reid looked at her. She explained. "I know you get irritated when they go out and leave you behind."
"Oh." Reid said, and then chuckled. "Actually, I'm fine with it."
"Oh?"
"Yeah!" Reid said. "It's FREEZING out there!" And he and Garcia exchanged amused grins. It was an hour and a half later that the call came in…
"We've got one!" Reid and Garcia and the police and Mayor all whirled and ran to the radio. "Entrance three, we have one of the missing psych patients!" Emily was announcing. "Shit… Guys, he's wired with a bomb… Should be easy to get off of him, but he's obviously not on his meds…"
"Get that bomb off and bring him up here. I want to talk to him. You need to keep manning the entrance point." Reid commanded.
"Damn Reid. You're hot when you take charge." Garcia purred. Reid froze and turned pink, and Emily was heard letting out a low chuckle.
"Sending him your way, Reid. Call in some doctors to take care of him, okay?"
"Is he hurt?" Reid asked.
"No… but he's pretty out of it."
"Alright." Reid said, and began pacing. About half an hour later, a wild looking man was brought in, wrapped in a blanket and clutching a cup of cocoa.
"Bomb came off easy." One of the officers told Reid. "But this guy isn't makin' much sense."
"Of course he won't. Don't try to talk to them, just bring them to me." Reid said. "I have experience in talking to the mentally ill."
"Oh! That why you're DOCTOR Reid?" The cop asked, looking delighted at figuring that out.
"No." Reid said, placing an arm around the dazed looking psych patient. "My mother is schizophrenic." And he walked away. He guided the man to a small room that had been set up, and they sat down. Reid immediately recognized him as Markus Clancy. "Hello, Markus." Reid said, and Markus looked at him, blinking. Reid was pleased that he had the easy one to deal with first. He had been diagnosed with the same thing as Diana Reid, but his paranoid schizophrenia hadn't progressed as far as Diana's had, yet.
"Hi." Markus said, blinking bemusedly at Reid. "They… They said it's okay? It's not gonna… go boom?"
"No, Markus." Reid said with a gentle smile. "No boom."
"We're all safe?" Markus asked. Reid pounced on that.
"Safe from what, Markus?"
Markus' eyes widened. "The boom. The BIG on… Canrock said that he was telling the truth… that it was COMING… And the television was saying so too! And… and I could hear the secret messages coming through the windows and…" He grimaced and twitched and roughly ran his hands through his hair and began rocking back and forth. "Only the Gods can be trusted…" Reid narrowed his eyes slightly.
"The Gods?"
"He spoke to me… he came to me. He CHOSE me!" Markus gasped, a smile of wonderment crossing his face.
"Who, Markus?" Reid asked, leaning in closer. Markus' eyes darted around… he picked at his fingers, and then picked his nose. Reid winced as the man flicked a booger across the room. But then he leaned in, smiled in delight and whispered.
"The messenger. His son…"
"Whose son?" Reid asked.
"Quetzalcoatl."
Reid slowly sat back, thinking. "The son of Quetzalcoatl…" He repeated, and Markus nodded, then narrowed his eyes and looked Reid up and down.
"Who are YOU the son of?!" He demanded, suddenly looking very hostile. Reid didn't hesitate.
"… Diana." He replied. Markus stared at him, and then relaxed and nodded.
"Good." He mumbled. "That's good. Diana. Goddess of the Hunt. Roman. Greek name Artemis. Swore never to marry… didn't know she had children."
Before the man could think more on those lines and start accusing Reid of lying, (because Diana/Artemis never DID have children) Reid leaned in and said "Markus. I must find the son of Quetzalcoatl. He's on a very important mission and I need to help him. Like you were."
"Help of the Gods is better…" Markus agreed. Then he lunged across the table and seized Reid's shoulders and began to shake him. "You must help him, son of Diana! The world will end! The Big Boom is coming! We must stop it! Stop it! STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!" Police ran into the room and pried Reid away from the man, as Reid's struggles didn't seem to be enough. He was then dragged from the room, his brain still feeling like it was rattling around in his skull.
He shoved the police officers off of him and stumbled away, hearing Markus in the background.
"THE BLOODLETTING MUST TAKE PLACE! BURN THE BLOOD AND THE FLESH AND THE WORLD SHALL LIVE ON! THE END IS NIGH! THE CALENDAR HAS RUN OUT! WE MUST APPEASE THE GODS! THE GODS! THE GODS!"
Several doctors who had just arrived were now running for the room where Markus was. Reid was now looking livid…
He stalked over to the radio and sat down. "Guys?"
"Here." Called Emily.
"I read you." Said Morgan.
"Yeah." Rossi called.
"Yes." Hotch said calmly.
"Hey Spence!" JJ greeted.
"I just finished talking to Markus… for someone whose been without his meds for so long, he was surprisingly lucid…" Reid began. "Listen. Tzacum has told these people that he's the son of the Mayan God, Quetzalcoatl, which is actually inaccurate, Quetzalcoatl was an Aztec god, not a Mayan, but his the name that everyone knows and—"
"Reid." Hotch said firmly.
"Oh. Sorry. Anyway, he said that is the son of Quetzalcoatl and he told these people that he was sent here as a messenger to try and halt the end of the world. My guess is that believed that telling them his true goals would have sent them into episodes… But anyway… when you catch the others, tell them you're the children of gods. When I told him that my mother's name was Diana, he decided that I was the son of the Roman Goddess and he started talking."
"Alright." Hotch said. "Where is he now?"
"He's been sedated." Reid said. "He got a bit over excited towards the end of the interview. Oh… Hold on." Reid leaned back and cocked his head as he listened to the doctor murmuring into his ear. Then his eyes darkened and he leaned forward. The team could hear the rage in his voice.
"He's been dyed blue under his clothes." He snarled.
"… Tzacum has marked him as a sacrifice." Morgan sighed.
"Guys, I think I have another…" JJ announced. "I have a woman who looks like one of the missing patients… and she's yelling at a mailbox. She's barefoot and lifting her skirts and I think I can see blue dye on her legs…"
"Approach with caution." Reid advised.
And about an hour later, not only were they bringing the woman up, but Morgan was sending a second man in as well…
"Three down, two to go!" An officer was cheering.
"Keep in mind," Reid said, heading in to talk to the woman. "That four of the five are mentally ill and probably don't have the capacity to try and avoid law enforcement. Tzacum will know better."
Sadly, the interview with the woman, one Sara Molin, didn't go as well as the one with Markus. In fact, she swung a chair at Reid's head and kicked a cop in the balls. They go no information from her. The second man, a Ryan Andrews, burst into tears only thirty second into the interrogation and then started fondling himself and sucking his thumb. Reid skedaddled out of the room quick as he could, looking like a deer in headlights wearing too much rouge.
They waited. And they waited… then a call came in. A man had been caught wandering along Broadway, heading AWAY from Times Square… he had been picked up for unusual behavior and was found to be dyed blue and wearing a bomb.
"Well…" Reid sighed, moving to stand at the window and look down on Times Square. "That's the four innocents out of his plot. Now we just need to find Tzacum."
"Will he be wearing a bomb, too?" Garcia asked.
"I doubt it." Reid said, shaking his head. "He would want to witness the Apocalypse… Make sure that he had succeeded. I doubt he'll be in the crowd… He could be killed there…" Then Reid frowned. He walked over to wear the captain and Mayor were standing, talking quietly.
"I know it's a big thing…" Reid said. "but I need every room with windows overlooking the Square checked, as well as rooftops."
"You think he might be hiding?" The mayor asked, eyes wide in alarm.
"I think that he wouldn't be in the Square. With all those bombs, there's too much risk that he would be killed. And he would want to be alive to see things through."
"Could he just be… watching on TV? Waiting to see the blasts?" The Mayor asked.
"Let's hope not. When they don't come, who knows what he'll plan…" Reid said, frowning.
"I'll get SWAT on it." The captain said. Reid nodded and turned back to the radio, where Garcia was telling the team that Reid had ordered the building sweep. The team immediately abandoned their posts and went to join SWAT when they raided the buildings where the news networks covering the festivities were, explaining to them that they must NOT reveal anything about the sweep on their broadcasts. Of course, they had to then explain why… and then the networks were wanting to evacuate, but they were ordered to remain and broadcast as usual, explaining that if they evacuated and broadcasted anything that might alarm Tzacum if he WERE watching on television, God knows WHAT he might do…
It took some doing, but they got the networks to settle down and continue the broadcast like normal…
Then, came the call.
Bomb squad had opened up the first bomb, and found a timer… The bombs had been set to go off at 11:45 pm…
Reid's gut congealed… it was 11:29… They had fifteen minutes to find Tzacum before he realized that his plan had failed… He quickly called the team.
"We have to find him." Reid blurted as soon as he was one with everyone. "NOW. I'm heading out to help you. Garcia is watching all security cameras with several other officers and—"
"I have a blue guy!" Someone shouted, and Reid whirled. "He's blue and he's covered in feathers and shit!"
"How the hell did he get in?!" Another cop blurted.
"Oh! It looks pretty Mayan to me, Reid!" Garcia gasped. "Disney Store! The son of a bitch is dancing around outside the Disney Store!"
"I'm on it!" Reid blurted, and ran, shouting into his radio. "DISNEY STORE! HE'S BY THE DISNEY STORE!"
When he burst out into Times Square, however, it was like hitting a wall. Hundreds of people were packed together, singing with the performer who was up on the stage, and the noise was deafening. The booze was flowing, there were flashing lights everywhere and people were stumbling into each other. Reid stared in horror… he would NEVER make it to the Disney Store in less than fifteen minutes. But then, he heard loud clopping noises.
"Agent!" He turned and looked up. Three mounted officers were there, their horses snorting and pawing at the ground, tossing their heads. Relief flooded Reid. He hurried over and thrust a hand up. It was grasped and he jumped, swinging a leg over the horse behind the brunette woman, who smiled.
"Disney Store, I heard?" She called over the din.
"Yes! Hurry!" Reid announced.
"You got it!" She called, then put a whistle to her lips and blew. The mass of people began tom part like the Red Sea to allow the horses through. As they were halfway across, Reid saw that Morgan had received similar assistance, and then Rossi was being scooped up on one of the horses behind Reid, and looking none too thrilled about it. Reid could hear Garcia making "Italian Stallion" jokes already…
Angry words were being thrown at the law enforcement on horseback as they plowed through the crowd, and at one point, a drunken young woman wouldn't move because she wanted to "pet the horsey!" But then, Reid could see him… Sure enough, there was man in a Mayan get up (God, he must be FREEZING) dyed blue and covered in beads and feathers, and dancing around for a delighted crowd.
Reid saw Morgan slide off the horse, looking very scared, and fight towards the man. And then he was through, and he tackled him.
"DON'T MOVE!" Reid could hear Morgan shouting, as he too slid from the horse and ran to help, Rossi on his heels. "Don't do it, man!" Reid got there just as Morgan was thrown off. The blue Mayan kicked Morgan in the face and then lunged for a trash can. He flung off the lid, reached inside… and pulled out an old fashioned Tommy Gun. His teeth hideously bared, he turned the gun on Morgan, who was struggling to his feet.
"CAZZO!" Rossi barked, and tackled the man to the ground, immediately seizing the wrist of the hand that was on the trigger.
"GET OFF ME!" The blue man was howling. Reid didn't hesitate. He leapt into the fray, focusing on the blue fingers and trying to pry them from the gun.
"EVERYBODY GET BACK!" Reid heard Emily roaring over the crowd. "GET DOWN, GET DOWN!"
"Let… GO!" Reid grunted, managing to get one hand off of the gun. Morgan had leapt in again for round two, just as Reid got an elbow in the head. "OUCH!" Reid toppled off. And then Rossi was down, and Morgan lay frozen, the barrel of the gun pointed at his chest…
"You can't stop this… and now you'll all die…" The blue man snarled, holding up what looked like a detonator. "Even if it is a bit earlier than I had planned it…"
But then, suddenly, he jerked. "UUHN!" He arched forwards and the detonator and gun fell from his hands as he twitched. And then he fell to his knees and collapsed on the ground. Behind him, JJ was revealed, holding tightly to a taser gun and looking determined, but very pale, and very scared…
A moment later, Hotch had appeared. He hauled the man to his feet and spun him around, ripping the headdress off. "Miguel Tzacum, you are under arrest." He snarled, and shoved the man into the arms of the waiting police. "Where's the bomb?!"
No one answered.
"He has a detonator, where's the bomb?!"
Now, everyone was looking frightened again.
"… Time's up." Emily gasped, and as the team watched, the large clock ticking down in Times Square, hit 11:45.
Nothing happened. They waited, barely breathing.
"NO!" Tzacum was suddenly yelling, looking nearly rabid as he was being dragged away. "NO! WHAT DID YOU DO?! WHERE ARE THEY?! WHERE ARE THOSE FOUR MORONS! THEY SHOULD HAVE GONE OFF, EVEN IF YOU TOOK THE DETONATOR FROM ME!"
"We found them." Reid snarled, glaring at the man. "The bombs have been defused. I'm guessing that the others aren't on timers… you were going to set them off manually, weren't you?" The man bared his teeth and lunged at Reid, but an overzealous Morgan caught him by the throat and marched him to the waiting transport vehicle.
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! I AM APOCALYPTO!"
"Yeah? And I hope Mel Gibson sues your ass for copyright infringement and slander!" Morgan snapped.
And then Miguel Tzacum was inside of vehicle, and it was leaving. It was over.
"That was TOO close." JJ finally gasped, and flung her arms around Hotch, who was closest. The man grunted and stumbled, but hugged her back, kissing the top of her head.
"Good timing. And good shot." He said, and JJ beamed up at him, relieved tears in her eyes. Then Emily and Rossi were embracing, and Morgan threw an arm around Reid. And then Garcia was there, herding them all together in a group hug and sobbing in her relief.
And then, suddenly, the energy of Times Square was filling them. They all turned and looked up as the crowd became deafening.
"TEN… NINE… EIGHT…"
The Ball was slowly descending, and people bounced up and down with each shouted number.
"SEVEN… SIX… FIVE… FOUR…"
Garcia and JJ were jumping up and down too. And then Reid gasped as he was captured around the waist by a strong arm. He stared up at Hotch, pressed into his chest. Rossi grinned and poked Garcia, who looked and squealed, making the entire team turn.
"THREE! TWO! ONE!"
And then the world exploded.
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
The crowd was deafening… bells were ringing, sirens were going off, and fireworks shot into the sky. And Aaron Hotchner captured his lover's lips in a kiss that was so deep, Garcia and Reid both swooned.
It took Reid a moment to realize that the kiss had ended several long seconds later. He blinked his glazed eyes at Hotch, then grinned, and pulled him in for another. With the exploding fireworks overhead, neither noticed the additional flashes of Garcia's camera.
And then, finally, the pair broke the kiss and just held one another close, foreheads pressed together as the crowd broke into song.
"Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne!"
Reid grinned and gave Hotch another quick kiss. "Did you know," he began, making Hotch grin, "that the song was originally a poem written in Scotland in 1788 by a Robert Bruns, and it loosely means 'days gone by' and can basically be taken as 'for old times' sake'?"
"I do now…" Hotch murmured, kissing Reid again.
They were interrupted a whoop from Garcia as the familiar opening to the next song started. Hotch and Reid found themselves wrenched apart as the team all threw their arms around each other and began singing at the top of their lungs…
"Start spreading the neeeews, I'm leaving todaaaaay! I want to be a part of it; New York, New Yoooork! These vagabond shooooes, They are longing to strayyyy! Right through the very heart of it, New York, New Yooork! I want to wake up in that cityyyy that doesn't sleep

And find I'm king of the hill; Top of the heap! My little town bluuuues, They are melting awaaaaaay… I'll make a brand new start of it, In old New Yoooooork! If I can make it there, I'll make it anywheeeere! It's up to you, New York, New Yoooork!"
Garcia turned and kissed Morgan right on the lips, and then turned and caught Hotch the same way, making Reid and Emily burst out laughing.
"New York, New Yoooork! I want to wake up in that city That never sleeps! And find I'm number one, Top of the list, Head of the heap, King of the hilllllll! Oh, These are little town bluuuuues! They have all melted awaaaaay! I am about to make a brand new start of it, Right there in old New Yoooooork! And you bet believe it, babyyyy, If I caaaan make it there, You know, I'm gonna make it just about, anywheeeeere…
"It's up to you… New… York… NEW YORK!
NEW YOOOOOOORK!"

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

Please review!
AFF.net required citations:
Song lyrics are from "New York, New York" by Frank Sinatra and "Auld Lang Syne" by Robert Burns back in the 18th century.

The title of the story is borrowed from the film "Apocalypto" by Mel Gibson.
Mel Gibson belongs to... Mel Gibson, I guess.
All information about the Mayan/Aztec culture came from various sources I do not recall as this story was written several months ago, but one source was my own memory from a class I took in college, years ago. All the wording of the information in this story is my own. Any mistakes are my own.
I think that covers everything...
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Apocalypto