#if that man doesn't end up in a hospital before the end of the season we'll be lucky lmao

[caroandcats]

Ryan: such a lighter and happier Eddie this season 😊

Eddie: my ankle! my dick!!

[pathologicalreid]

central nervous system | s.r.

in which you are drugged on what should've been a routine case

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; hurt/comfort content warnings: being drugged, threatened sexual assault, season 10, blood, broken glass, in a bar but reader doesn't drink, jareau!reader. word count: 1.7k a/n: oh dear. this week was so eternally long. work was crazy busy i worked overtime and almost ended up in the hospital which all led up to me taking the lsat today. crazy shit, but margovember will prevail. also! i'm hoping to get masterlists updated tomorrow if that's something you've been waiting on.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” an unfamiliar voice intrudes on your private thoughts, looking around the bar that you had been planted in to see if you could catch your UnSub before he had the chance to attack someone else.

He sets a glass in front of you, and you drop some cash on the wooden surface, you shrug, “I’m in town on business.”

The bartender laughs heartily at your response before shaking his head, “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just—that’s a line I hear a lot.”

Your face warms at the recognition that the bartender was flirting with you, but this is a man who gets paid to be nice. You take his words at face value and sip at your drink, “Well, I have no reason to lie to you,” you squint at his name tag, “Jackson.”

He wipes down a spill, hooking the rag over the sink, and smiling at you, “Well, it’s nice to meet an honest woman.”

Following him with your eyes as he walks away, that last comment rubs you the wrong way, but Jackson Gleason was the bar manager, and Garcia had already cleared him from the suspect list.

You find yourself wishing Hotch had sent you into the bar with an earbud to communicate with the team, but instead, you were handed a phone, preprogrammed to alert the team if you hit the power button. There was a plainclothes officer somewhere in a corner to keep an eye on you, and the rest of the team was at the precinct or in an unmarked van outside.

Kate had coached you to the best of her abilities, but this wasn’t your first time going undercover. Catching serial rapists was more her speed, but she was pregnant, which immediately took her out of the running. Sipping from the thin straw in your glass, you let your eyes wander around the bar, antique posters and advertisements are littered across the walls, and someone just started playing Radiohead on the jukebox.

Eyeing the phone in your purse, you sigh, stirring the ice in your cup listlessly.

“Can I get you another? Maybe something stronger?” The manager offers, returning from the employees-only door with a new package of straws to restock the bar.

You shake your head, holding your empty glass out of him to take, “The same thing is fine.” Ignoring the fact that you don’t drink—you couldn’t drink on the job; all you’d been given was a coke.

He raises his eyebrows at that, “Suit yourself,” he says, ignoring the fact that you were trying to hand off your already dirtied glass to him and filling a clean cup with ice and coke.

Brushing it off as company policy, you thank him for the drink, placing another few dollars on the bar and smiling at him. Over your shoulder, you glance at the plainclothes officer, engaging in an animated conversation with another patron over whatever sports game is playing on the TV. You suspect he’s a little too good at pretending to be off the clock.

You make a face at the straw in your glass, and the bartender notices, “Sorry, just ran out of plastic.”

Taken aback, you use the paper straw anyway, sipping at your drink while you still can—knowing the straw will inevitably disintegrate.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice something wrong, a dull ache in your chest exacerbated by a slight rise in your body temperature. Your fingertips feel hot like they would after coming inside from the cold. You look down to find the emergency phone in your purse, but your head droops with your eyes, every controlled movement before a struggle.

“Hey,” Gleason says, jutting his chin in your direction, “You don’t look so great.”

A different version of yourself would’ve given him snark in return, but that different version of yourself would’ve been able to feel her extremities. “Woah,” You breathe, trying to swing your legs off of the stool only to find that you’re much higher from the ground than you initially thought.

When you lift your head again, whipping it back so hard you’re afraid it might fly off, he’s standing directly in front of you, “Why don’t I take you out back? You can get some fresh air,” the offer is innocent enough, but it rubs you the wrong way. His hand is on your waist, at the very least you know that’s wrong—you have a boyfriend, and it’s not this guy.

No, your boyfriend is outside of the bar in a van, waiting for your signal because you’re… oh. “No,” you whisper, trying to get your breathing under control. “I’m— Where’s my phone?” You’re digging through your purse as he stands you up and guides you to the back of the bar, closer to a large exit sign.

Sirens are going off in your head, but even they sound separated from your situation. “I can call a cab for you,” he assures you, leading you by your arm and closer to the back door.

“No,” you say again, “I really need my phone…” his grip tightens on your wrist, practically dragging you out of the bar while you use your free hand to find your phone, pushing the power button before it slips out of your hand, clattering to the ground. “That really hurts,” you tell him, now able to give more of your focus to evading the man who was most decidedly not Jackson Gleason.

Pulling your arm back, you manage to break free from him, the momentum from your struggle sends your hand flying into a picture frame, shattering the glass and causing the UnSub to spin on his heel. “Look at what you did,” he seethes, gripping your hair at the back of your head and forcing you to look at the shattered glass.

Your mouth gapes at the sensation of your hair being pulled until there’s a rush of cold air and he pushes you forward, into the waiting arms of someone else, “Woah, hey, I’ve got you,” Spencer says, keeping you off of the floor and, with the help of someone else, carrying your dead weight over to one of the booths.

Spencer clambers into the booth seat first, seating you in front of him so that your back is pressing against his chest. You let out a low groan when he wraps an arm around your waist, keeping your body from flopping onto the sticky hardwood.

“Do you know what you took?” He asks, pressing his face into your hair so that the two of you can keep your voices down.

Vaguely aware of the way his fingers are pressing into the pulse point on your wrist, you shake your head, “I didn’t take anything.”

He hums in response, “You were drugged. I— I’m so sorry we didn’t realize who it was sooner. By the time we realized there was a discrepancy in Jackson Gleason’s file, you had already pushed the alert button,” he tells you, being careful not to move around too much. “Can you lift your head for me? It’ll help your breathing.”

With tremendous effort—and some help from Spencer—you lift your head, letting it rest on him. Now, you can see that the majority of the bar has cleared out, Rossi watches you nervously from the bar, telling Spencer something about paramedics. You huff, “Where’s JJ?”

“She’ll meet us at the hospital, love,” he answers you, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

Trying to adjust yourself, you shake your head indeterminably, “No, it’s… I need my sister. I need my sister.” Somewhere—a past version of yourself, perhaps—you knew that JJ was at the hospital, speaking with one of the survivors.

Spencer speaks with someone that you can’t see, they’re standing in your periphery, a mangled blur of a person. Moments later, something cold is pressed to your face, and the sensation makes you jump, “Ow,” you whine, though it doesn’t hurt.

“Ducky?” Your sister’s voice rings through the phone, and you’re surprised to hear her using your nickname. Although, your status as JJ’s little sister tends to come through when you’re hurt.

You hum into the receiver, “Hi, J,” you greet wearily.

A sigh of relief is her next response, “Hey, Derek said you’re waiting for the paramedics to take you to the hospital, and I’ll be here to greet you when you arrive. Does that sound alright?”

“It’s cold in here,” you mumble, wondering if Derek is the blurry shape remaining in your periphery.

There’s a pause on her end before she speaks up again, “I’m sorry, Ducky.” There it was again. “You’ll be okay though; you just have to wait it out.”

You nod as a jacket is laid out on your lap; Spencer must’ve heard you mention being cold to your sister. Your boyfriend whispers something to you, “Spencer says the paramedics are here and I can’t talk to you anymore.”

JJ laughs slightly on the phone, “I’ll see you when you get here, okay?”

“Yeah, J,” you whisper, letting someone take the phone from you. You frown at Spencer, “I don’t feel quite right.”

Helping you get on the gurney, Spencer holds your hand while an EMT wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, “He likely gave you a central nervous system inhibitor.”

You nod slowly, wrinkling your nose when the other paramedic shines a light in your eyes, “I am nervous,” you answer. Trying to listen to the medical personnel as they explain what’s going on, but it all goes in one ear and out the other. One of them crudely wraps a cut on your hand to staunch the bleeding, but you couldn’t even remember when it started to bleed.

Anxiously, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “Don’t bite down on your lip,” Spencer instructs, “You could bite right through it and not even realize.”

Releasing your lip, your eyes widen at him while he pulls a blanket over your shoulders. “That’s scary,” you whisper.

“I agree,” he says, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “It is scary.”

[the-ginger-avenger]

I do kinda feel bad for Lamb. While that whole spiel he gave Standish at the end of season one was mainly to stop her from asking questions about Partner's death, I do honestly believe he was telling the truth about why he was at Slough House. He really did choose to work at Slough House because he couldn't be a civilian but he also couldn't be out in the field anymore. He wanted to work at a place where nothing really mattered, where he could run out the clock (and part of me thinks the whole being a slob and not caring at all for his physical health is his way of trying to run that clock out a little faster), where he didn't have to worry about killing anyone, or worry about any of his people getting killed or hurt, and at first it was fine, it was just what he wanted

And then comes River Cartwright.

Lamb went to Slough House to be as far away from people like David Cartwright as possible and then here comes his freaking grandson. His grandson who is now one of his Joes, so he has to care, but it's fine, because he doesn't really, because this is Slough House and they don't do anything even remotely dangerous. He gets to sit around and insult River all day. It's perfect. Except that River Cartwright is a danger magnet, who's going to charge headfirst into danger, who's not going to listen, no matter what Lamb says. Lamb tells him to just drop the file off at the Park, don't do anything else, but no, River sticks his nose right into that mess and now Lamb has to get up and go break him out of the hospital closet and get him away from the Dogs. Lamb doesn't involve him in figuring out what happened to Dickie, but River goes off on his own and pieces everything together and plans to go to Cotswold even before Lamb tells him to. Lamb tells him to stay at Slough House to sort out the files, but no, River decides to try to save Standish himself and now Lamb has to get him out of the Park and away from the Dogs again.

The man just wanted a break. He just wanted to live the last few of his years not caring about anything, and then he gets dragged back into the life he tried to leave by the grandson of the very man who caused him to leave in the first place. He just wanted to get as close to retiring as he possibly could, and instead ended up in charge of disaster spy

[peachyhalstead]

alive | j. halstead

summary: chasing down an offender doesn't go quite as planned (dw it ends fluffy)

pairing: established (married) fem!reader x jay halstead, platonic!reader x adam ruzek

word count: 1.75k

warnings: canon-level violence, gunshot, hospitals, medical inaccuracies

a/n: meet a seasoned fanfic writer's first fic about jay <3 please let me know what you think of this !! also it was originally written in 3rd pov so if you see anything wrong, no you didn't ---- You followed Adam down the alley, weapons drawn. "Chicago PD! Stop!"

You felt your lungs burn as you raced down the alley, nodding when you saw Adam silently gesture to enter through the front door, and he would take the back.

Noticing the door was already open, you walked in, eyes alert for any sign of a victim or offender.

Hearing Adam call out a "clear!" you opened your mouth to do the same, but didn't make it that far as you heard three shots ring out, feeling two sharp pains tear through your body.

Adam, having seen the offender shoot you, quickly fired a round of his own weapon, pressing a button on his radio. "5021 Ida, shots fired by offender and police! We need an ambo to our location, plain-clothed officers at the scene, one in need of urgent medical care!"

Near the end of the block that you and Adam were on, Jay's head shot up to meet Hailey's, hearing their coworker's distraught call into the radio.

The two sprinted out of their location, and down to the abandoned house, hearing the sirens grow louder.

"Ruz! Where are you guys?!" Jay called, stomping through the house.

He felt his heart plummet when he saw his wife on the floor, bullet hole in your shoulder and belly, Adam holding his jacket over the wounds.

"Y/N!" He fell to his knees next to you, letting out a breath when you looked at him.

"J-Jay, I didn't see him coming." You mumbled, breaths shaky.

"Shh, it's okay, hon. You're going to be alright." Jay reassured you, his hands trembling as he reached out to stroke her the back from your face. He shot a panicked look at Adam, who was still pressing down on the bullet wounds.

"Ambo's en route, Jay," Adam said, his voice tight with worry. "She's strong, she's gonna pull through this."

Jay didn't answer, his attention solely focused on his wife. He held onto your hand, willing his strength into you. "Hang in there, baby."

"I'm trying," you answered weakly.

Just then Voight and Kevin Atwater stormed into the room. The sight of you on the floor left them momentarily stunned before they sprung into action. Voight acknowledged Ruzek with a curt nod and Atwater immediately moved to Jay's side, helping apply pressure to your wounds.

The sirens outside grew louder as the ambulance neared their location. It wasn't long before the paramedics came rushing in with a stretcher, immediately getting to work on stabilizing you for transport to Med.

As they carried you out of the house, Jay followed closely behind, fear etched on his face but determination in his eyes. He watched as they loaded yoiu into the ambulance before climbing in right after them.

The team was left in the eerily quiet house -- a stark contrast to the chaos moments ago. Voight looked around at his team, each one wearing an expression of concern and fear for their colleague.

"Everyone alright?" he asked gruffly, though there was a hint of concern in his tone.

Ruzek and Atwater both nodded, and soon the team made their way to Chicago Med, making home in the waiting room, wanting to be there for both you and Jay.

Jay, having hopped out of the ambulance as you were unloaded and ushered into a trauma room, a few nurses stopping him from going in. "Jay, Jay stop!"

The detective pulled a hand through his hair, looking at his older brother, Will. "Will, you gotta help her, man."

Shaking his head, he nodded to where his coworkers Dr. Marcel and Dr. Choi were working on you, who had since lost consciousness. "I can't, bro. She's family, against hospital policy."

Jay hit the wall, tears coming to his eyes. "I can't lose her, man. We just got married, this can't be the end."

Will clapped his brother on the back, jaw tense. "They got her, Jay. She'll be good, she's a strong one."

The two brothers watched as you were rushed into emergency surgery, being told to wait in the waiting room for any updates.

------

Jay stared at the clock on the wall across from him, watching the hands move as time passed. It had been two hours since you were taken to the O.R., and as much as Will tried, he wasn't able to get any more information out of his coworkers.

"Hey, man." Adam walked over to Jay, handing him a coffee.

"Thanks." Jay spoke, voice raw. "You saved her life, Ruz."

Adam shook his head, sitting next to Jay. "It was my idea to split up. If we stuck together, maybe she wouldn't have gotten hit."

Jay looked at his friend. "Don't blame yourself, Ruz."

The two detectives sat in silence, only perking up when Will and Dr. Marcel walked out into the waiting room.

"Is she-" Jay cut himself off, unable to finish the question.

"She's alive. We got both the bullets out, there was some damage to her shoulder, but we were able to repair it all."

Jay let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, grateful smile on his face. "Can I see her?"

Dr. Marcel shook his head. "Not right now. She's being moved to a recovery room in the I.C.U., a nurse will come out to bring you to her when she's settled."

"Will she still be able to be a cop?" Adam asked, the question plaguing him ever since he saw you hit the ground.

"With physical therapy and rest, Y/N should get full function and mobility of her shoulder. It won't be fast, she'll need lots of rest."

Jay thanked the surgeon, shaking his hand before he walked away.

------

Once the team had all heard that you made it through surgery, they headed back to the district to close up the case, the offender in CPD's morgue.

Jay sat up when a nurse walked over to him, smile on her face. Maggie, he recalled, from when Will introduced them a while ago. "She’s awake, she's asking for you."

Rising from the uncomfortable seat, Jay groaned as his back cracked, following Maggie down the halls to the I.C.U.

He smiled when he finally laid eyes on you, blinking blearily as the door opened and you saw your husband.

"Jay," you sighed in relief, her voice barely a whisper.

His breath hitched in his throat as he approached the bed. Your face was paler than he remembered, hair fanned out on the white hospital pillow. The sight of seeing you awake, those sparkling eyes looking at him despite being clouded by painkillers and fatigue, was enough to bring tears prickling in his eyes.

"Hey, baby," he murmured, carefully taking your hand and pressing a kiss to it. "How are you feeling?"

You gave a small wry smile. "Like I’ve been shot twice."

He chuckled weakly, stroking your hand with his thumb. "They said you did great in surgery."

You shrugged slightly, wincing after. "I don't remember much."

"They also said you’ll need a lot of rest and physical therapy for your shoulder."

You nodded slowly. “That’s okay. I can handle it.”

Jay looked at you, admiration clear in his eyes. Despite having just woken up from surgery and being shot twice, you were still trying to put up a brave face.

"There's my soldier," he said softly, brushing a loose strand of your hair from her your-drenched forehead.

Just then there was a soft knock on the door and Will walked in followed Dr. Marcel.

Dr. Marcel greeted you two with a warm smile as he approached your bed. He checked on your vitals before turning to Will and Jay.

"She's doing well considering the circumstances," Dr. Marcel reported.

Will nodded, sending you a comforting smile. "Should be able to get discharged in a few day’s time."

You nodded, looking at the sling your arm was in. "How long do I need to wear this?"

Dr. Marcel smirked, Will had warned him that his sister-in-law wasn't one to sit around and do nothing. "At least a month, but it depends on how your physical therapy goes. But, for a couple weeks, you can't move your arm. We had to repair some muscles in your shoulder, so it'll be sore."

You nodded, thanking the doctor as he left, Will following.

Jay looked at you, sad smile on his face. "Ruz is blaming himself."

You frowned, trying to sit up, wincing as your abdomen throbbed.

"Hey, hey, take it easy." Jay helped you sit up, making sure you were comfortable.

"Can I see the team? At least Adam, I want him to know it wasn't his fault." You looked at your husband, who nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead, heading down to grab the team.

------

After a few days, you were finally able to leave the hospital. You had signed the discharge paperwork, and Jay walked back into the room after pulling the car around, soft smile on his face when he saw you struggling to get her coat on, one arm still in the sling.

"Here, let me help," he offered, walking over to you. He helped you put on the coat, paying extra attention to not disturb your injured shoulder.

You met his eyes and offered him a soft smile. "Thanks, babe."

Jay just nodded, his throat choked with emotion. He was relieved that you were okay but knew you had a long way to go for your complete recovery. He gently took your hand, gave it a squeeze, and lead out of the room.

As they walked through the silent corridors, you leaned into him slightly. It was subtle but Jay noticed it immediately. He wrapped his arm around you, offering her comfort and support. The worry lines on his face seemed to deepen as they moved towards the exit of the hospital.

Outside, the city was bustling as usual. The harsh city lights reflected off Jay's face as he helped you into their car before moving around to sit in the driver's seat.

The ride home was quiet. The only sound was the low hum of the engine and the occasional honk from nearby traffic. You were staring out of the window, mind lost in thoughts while Jay focused on driving, occasionally glancing over at his wife.

“Hey, Jay?” You looked over at him, voice quiet.

Jay hummed, glancing at you while he pressed on the gas petal when the light turned green.

“Just,” you paused, feeling a teenager in love again. “I love you.” ---- a/n: did u like it? also please don't expect good titles ever titles always make me wanna punch a brick wall

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 ! ( a collection of sentence starters from season  1 of nbc's “ good girls ”. adjust phrasing as necessary . will be updated in the future . mature themes are present . )

specificity is good , but that's over the top .

chill , i'm like two minutes late .

alright , everybody be cool and nobody gets hurt .

do you think i could make it in L.A. ?

i don't need all that . i just want to be super famous .

you know , i'm just not really much of a church person .

maybe next time you'll take security more seriously .

oh my god , can you please just listen to me for one damn minute ?!

shame on you . shame on all of you .

move it before i shoot your face off , let's go !

you should probably get yourself a lawyer .

why is it so crazy ? i mean , it's a victimless crime .

can't you have my back on one thing , ever ?

this is me helping you not ruin your life .

damn . that was a good sell .

i should have been more careful , i panicked .

no ! i mean ... i don't know . maybe .

we're gonna rob that store .

have you lost your mind ?

we can't sit back and let everything be taken away from us .

no one's gonna fix this . we have to do it ourselves .

[ name ] ... hello ? are you okay in there ?

how did you have the money for all of this ?

i'm here to clean up a mess , [ name ] .

it's not a knock , we all have our strengths and weaknesses . you're a beautiful dummy . it doesn't make you a bad person .

this is five grand . enough for a plane ticket , and to get you started .

i guess you won't mind if i go to the cops , then . right ?

i handled it because you couldn't .

you've got a little ... on your face , kind of looks like blood .

what am i looking at right now ? WHAT am i even looking at right now ?

[ name ] , this is life or death .

i choose death . GIVE ME DEATH .

i have ... sort of a favor to ask .

it's not like you can't afford it .

what do you need that much money for ?

thank you for making me completely humiliate myself for no reason .

this is what winning feels like .

i'm gonna need you to say it with me . we are winning .

it's not like you're gonna kill me .

you don't have the guts . you're not killers .

thought you'd pull a fast one , huh ? make a quick buck ?

girls like you , you never think things through .

you've done this your whole life . you make these big messes and expect everyone else to clean it up . then you just ignore it .

you can't leave me here forever .

you are an incredible liar .

when bad things happen to good people , everyone goes crazy .

if it could happen to us , it could happen to anyone .

roll the dice . tell them to pull the trigger . see what happens .

hey , looks like we've got a survivor .

i am going the speed limit . i don't wanna get a ticket .

where does he think he's going ? boy , this is hard to watch .

if you go to the cops , so will i .

i thought we were done with this .

oh ! you'd rather just declare a kilo at customs ?

– or we could just steal it .

are you hearing yourself right now ?

do not call me crazy .

what if we get caught ?

there's always a choice .

dude , it's never gonna end . unless we end it .

i'm not gonna shoot him , i'm just gonna scare him a little !

forgive me lord jesus , i did not mean to shoot that man .

are we supposed to knock or something ?

i wanted my music for the road trip .

how long has it been bleeding like this ?

i need to take you to the hospital , i think you need stitches .

i wish everything could go back to the way it was .

i had no damn idea how good i had it until it was gone .

i know you hate me right now .

i'm sorry . i suck .

i had to do something really , really important .

what's more important than me ?

is there something you want to ask me ?

just making conversation .

you know the tradition is jordans over a phone line , right ?

be outside in two minutes or you're dead , i mean it .

it's so crazy , even saying it .

you asked for this ? you ASKED for this ?

you can't sign people up for criminal activity like it's a bake sale !

that is NOT what i meant when i said i'd do another job .

so you think you get to pick and choose what you do and when you wanna do it ?

no , i'm sorry . that is not gonna work .

what's your gut say ?

i can prove it ! i mean i can't ... but i want to .

why should i apologize ?

chill out with the cayenne .

maybe we need like , smelling salts or something .

well , i want him to not die in my house .

i am so tired of almost dying .

hey ! ... don't be mad .

you're a dead man .

shut up , just don't say anything . i will handle it .

just say you're sorry .

i wanted to do something nice , so that maybe we could start fresh .

i'm not proud of my part in everything .

oh , yeah ? what does that mean ?

[confused-pyramid]

There Is More When You Let Go | s2

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 18.8k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, death of a spouse, kidnapping, torture, drug use, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 2x01, 2x05, 2x06, 2x13, 2x14, 2x15, 2x16, 2x18, 2x23

a/n: here's season 2 of the anchor series! I had a lot of fun writing this one (hence why it got so long lmao), and I included a lot more direct show content in this part, so I hope you like it. Also more flashbacks:) Title is from Benediction by Luke Sital-Singh

series masterlist

A gunshot. That's the last thing you hear before Elle's front door flies open, almost throwing you back onto the stairs. The shock of seeing the Fisher King standing right in front of you almost makes you miss the puddle of blood that has started seeping across the floor to your feet.

"Elle," you gasp, your moment of distraction enough time for the man to push you behind him and make a break for it. You fall forward with the force of his shove, but he's much slower than you are. If you ran after him now, you could almost certainly catch up to him, but the sight of Elle bleeding out in front of you makes you immobile.

Making the split second decision to abandon the chase, you throw yourself forward and press your hands against her wound to control the blood flow.

"You're gonna be okay," you tell her, even as her blood trickles out from below your palm. "I need to call for help."

Pressing one hand down harder, you try to ignore the sounds of her gasping in pain as you reach behind you for her house phone. After dialing 911, you hold the phone between your ear and shoulder and bring your hand back to apply more pressure.

The paramedics arrive within five minutes, and they pry you off of her as they pull out a defibrillator. You had been so focused on stopping her from bleeding out that you hadn't even noticed she had stopped breathing. How could you have missed that?

"Charging to 200."

You lean back against her couch as tears leak from the corners of your eyes.

"Clear!"

***

"They took her into surgery," you say when Hotch meets you at the hospital. Your eyes keep darting around, like you're looking for something, but you don't know what.

"What happened?" he asks, placing his hands on your shoulders to regain your focus. The pressure calms you down.

"I think he was waiting for her," you whisper, your throat tightening. "He had to have been. It all happened so fast."

His eyes stay on yours, as though trying to predict your next movement. "I'm glad you're okay."

More agents filter into the hospital and he begins to turn away to talk to them, but then you stiffen under his hands. "I had him, Hotch."

"What?" he frowns, looking at you again. "What are you talking about?"

You lift your hands to your face to brush away a strand of hair, barely noticing the stains all over your skin. "He was right there. The unsub. I could've grabbed him...but I didn't."

Anderson walks over with a question, but Hotch doesn't take his eyes off you. "You went to Elle. It's okay, you made the right choice."

"But the girl he took," you protest, shaking his hands off, "this could have lead us to her, but she's still-"

"You did the right thing," he cuts you off, waving Anderson away to speak with someone else. "It's not your fault."

You grit your teeth, your voice still tinged with guilt. "How do you know?"

"Because," he sighs, running a hand through his hair, "it's mine. I sent her home."

You open your mouth to tell him how unfair that is, but he cuts you off with an order to go wash up before he leaves to explain the situation to the other agents.

The only bathroom on that floor of the hospital is at the end of the patient ward, so you trudge down the hallway and into the single family restroom, trying to avoid the worried glances from all around.

You haven't seen your reflection since before leaving with Elle, and you know it can't be a pretty sight, but the face staring back at you in the mirror is still a shock.

The bottom of your shirt is matted to your skin, and your hands are covered in now-dried blood that looks flaky and dark. When you look up, you see a streak of blood smeared over your nose from when you swiped at your face earlier.

Grabbing a fistful of paper towels, you run them under the faucet before scrubbing at your face and peeling your button down off to rid them of any trace of Elle's blood. When you're sure there isn't anything left, you turn the faucet back on and stretch your hands forward, watching the warm water turn a muddy red color as it swirls around the drain.

Eventually, the water runs clear, but you can still see the blood in your mind. You are suddenly ambushed by a memory you thought you had pushed down long ago. Red blood, cold skin.

How was there so much blood in the human body?

Your department-mandated therapist told you at the time that you would be in denial for the first few weeks, but you weren't denying anything. You had seen his body, seen the blood pooling around him as the coroner snapped photographs for the crime scene report. You knew he was dead. You just couldn't get that question out of your mind.

The memory shifts and suddenly you're seventeen again. You're seventeen and you are reaching for your first aid kit for the second time this month as Hotch sits on your bed with what feels like a permanent wince fused to his lips.

"Hold still," you whisper as you pour rubbing alcohol onto a cotton pad and press it into the cut on his hand. There's also blood under his nose and in his teeth, but he doesn't seem to notice.

He hisses as the alcohol makes contact, but he doesn't pull away. He's used to this routine now. You both are.

"I'm sorry I came by so late," he whispers through gritted teeth as he watches your fingers peel open a bandage. You want to berate him for apologizing, for feeling so much guilt all the time, but it's fruitless. It's like he was born with it inside of him, always clawing its way out at the slightest inconvenience.

"Don't be." You shoot him a look that he knows to mean 'be quiet and let me finish this'. He heeds your unspoken order, but after a few minutes, it's you who breaks it. "How did this one happen?"

He looks down and you immediately want to take it back. "You don't have to answer."

He's quiet for a beat. "He was drunk and I cleared his bottle away before he was finished with it."

Your lips thin and you press your hand to his knee, desperately needing to connect yourself to him in some manner.

"I tried to keep him in the kitchen, so Sean wouldn't hear, but I guess the noise woke him up." He takes a deep breath, and you can almost feel the determination entering his body as he sits up straighter. "I couldn't let him get to Sean, so I finally did it. I fought back."

He looks down at his bandaged hand then, and you can see pride accompanying the blood etched into the lines of his face. "I finally fought back."

Your eyes refocus and when you look at yourself in the mirror again, there's no trace of Elle's blood on your body anymore.

***

When Elle is discharged from the hospital, you spend the rest of the break helping her move out of her house and into a new apartment. When you drove her back home, the blood had been cleaned off of her floors, but you could see in her expression that it wasn't enough. This place would always be a reminder of what had happened to her.

The apartment search was quick, only a week between finding a place she liked and signing the new lease, but she saved the actual move out for the last few days of your break, instead hopping between sleeping in your guest room and a motel in town.

That's why you find yourself in Elle's old bedroom on the final Saturday before you're due back at work, packing some of her clothes into a suitcase while she works on clearing her bathroom. She tossed out almost everything she didn't absolutely need, only packing up her basic clothing and a few other sentimental keepsakes from her past.

"What about these?" you ask, holding up a pair of dark wash jeans that you remember her wearing to the bars with you a few months ago. God, has it really only been a few months?

She peeks out of the bathroom for barely a second. "I told you, I don't care. Keep it, toss it, your choice."

You don't know how you feel about being in charge of her future wardrobe, especially since you tend to live in loose jeans and old tee shirts when you're not at work, but you can understand where she's coming from. The instinct to hand off every decision to someone else.

You remember how hard it was for you to even decide what to eat for dinner after Jeff died. You also remember Hotch slipping pre-packed meals into your fridge whenever he came over to keep you company.

It takes you a couple of hours to clear out her house, and another hour to drop her and her stuff off at the new place, with promises to visit whenever you can over the next months of her leave.

You don't realize how exhausted you are until your front door shuts behind you and you collapse onto your couch, still in your dirty clothes. The summer sun is completely below the horizon as you lean back into your throw pillows and grab the tv remote. You haven't used your tv in months, and you figure that a vacation from work is the perfect opportunity to dust it off.

The screen comes to life on a local news channel, where a young reporter with teased-up hair is announcing a recall on a vacuum cleaner brand you've never heard of. She finishes her spiel before handing the mic off to an older woman who starts reporting the details of a car accident that took place in a neighborhood a few miles from yours.

These reports don't usually get under your skin - you have seen enough to know that it happens everyday - but suddenly, you can't stand to look at the crime scene tape flashing on your screen. You don't wait long enough to see what caused the accident. Whether it was a simple mistake, or if it was a drunk dri-

Grabbing the remote, you turn the television off and stand up, shaking your limbs out in an effort to rid yourself of the anxious feeling that's been growing inside of you.

You make yourself a quick microwave dinner and wolf it down in a few minutes, before trudging upstairs and hopping in the shower. You take your time washing the dust off of your body, and only emerge when the hot water runs out.

Even after cleaning yourself off and climbing into a fresh set of sheets, sleep doesn't come easily. The minutes tick by slowly as you stare at the ceiling, and before you can overthink it, you grab your phone off your nightstand and hit the first number on your speed dial.

It rings twice before the line connects. "Is everything okay?"

"What happened to 'hello'?" you ask, huffing out a laugh as you sit up in your bed.

Hotch grunts quietly. "Hello." You can hear the tiredness in his voice, but he sounds alert. You didn't wake him up. "What can I do for you?"

"So I have to need something to call you?"

"Y/N."

"Sorry for wanting to talk to my friend-"

He sighs so loudly, you can practically see his eyes rolling. "Are you going to tell me why you called or not."

"I helped Elle move out today."

That gets his attention. "How is she doing?"

You shrug, even though he can't see you. "As good as can be expected. We threw out almost all of her stuff, you know. She ended up with just a suitcase and three boxes at the end."

"That's just her way of coping, I guess."

"When we got to her house, it was..." You pause for a beat. You don't know the correct way to bring this up. "Well, it was clean. The blood was gone."

He doesn't say anything, and you know you were right. "Hotch, it was you, wasn't it."

He exhales quietly, as though he's trying to control his volume. Shit, maybe Haley's sleeping next to him. This is why you don't call someone after midnight.

"She didn't need to see a crime scene in her own home."

You wonder if he knows how he sounds right now. How caring and compassionate he can be when he doesn't try to tamp down that side of himself.

"You're a good unit chief," you say, leaning your head back against your wooden headboard. "I don't know why you keep things like this hidden."

You do know why, but that isn't what's important right now. There's a small creaking sound over the receiver and you imagine he's getting out of bed and crossing the room. Then the click of a door closing. "All that matters is that it's done."

You can't control the exasperated sigh that leaves your body. "Who are you trying to kid, Hotch? This is me you're talking to. I know how you worry that you aren't setting a good example for the team, but it's things like this that go a long way. It really wouldn't hurt for the team to see you showing some emotion."

"That's what they have you for," he says, his voice tightening the slightest bit. "They don't need that from me. When my emotions get in the way, I can't do my job properly."

You scoff. "And what job is that, exactly?"

"Keeping you safe."

He doesn't need to raise his voice to make you feel his anger. "If I had kept my emotion out of it, I wouldn't have sent her home. I wouldn't have let you accompany her, and I wouldn't have put both of you in danger."

Your hand comes up, rubbing circles into the skin above your chest. "Aaron...that wasn't on you." You can sense his protests coming, so you try a different tactic. "It wasn't on me either. No one but Garner deserves any blame for what happened."

The line is silent for a few moments, and you take the little victory. "I'm sorry I called you so late."

"Oh, it's alright," he chuckles. "You know I was up anyway."

***

She came back too quickly. You can't get the thought out of your head as you watch Elle restlessly tap her foot on the ground as she waits for the final word on whether she will be acting as bait for the serial rapist.

You don't think she's ready, and you've made your opinion known to the team, but Gideon made up his mind quickly.

"You think Elle's ready for it?"

"We'll be there for her."

You watch her vigilantly from Hotch's SUV as she enters the house and drops her keys on the table by the window. She's wired, which is a small relief, but Gideon's instruction not to have her gun on her has you more anxious than you'd like.

"Why isn't she leaving?" Hotch says from next to you, echoing your thoughts.

A car driven by a man fitting the profile pulls up on the opposite side of the street and you hear Morgan dialing Garcia. After a few seconds, he's back on the line. "William Lee. It's him."

"Bingo," Gideon's voice exclaims through your earpiece. "She's on the move."

You turn away from the car and see Elle exiting the front of the house. She glances at the man on her way to her car in the driveway, and it's only then that you notice the gun stuffed in her waistband.

"Her gun's out," you whisper, mostly to yourself. "What's she doing?"

"She's panicking."

"We've got no reason to bring him in."

"Don't blow it, don't blow it."

A chorus of yells echo through your earpiece as Elle stomps down the drive and points her gun at the unsub. "FBI, put your hands where I can see them!"

You throw open the car door and run over to apprehend the man as he fervently denies all of her accusations. "I was just stopping to look at my map."

The police put him into an interrogation room back at the station, where Hotch and Gideon try to get him to confess by showing empathy for this motive. It seems to be going well until his lawyer shows up, putting an end to the conversation.

She's been tense all day, so you're not surprised when Elle blows up. "You're letting him walk?"

Gideon is the first to step in. "Back off, Elle."

"You don't know what he's done," she yells, as though trying to reason with the police. The pain in her voice is palpable, but you can't deny the truth, even if you aren't able to voice it to her.

Hotch doesn't face the same issue. "The only reason he's walking is because you panicked."

"I'm supposed to believe that you've got my back?" she fires back, her anger redirecting to fly in his direction.

"What are you saying to me?"

"The last time you sent me home, Hotch, it got me shot."

All of the air leaves the room. You grab Elle's arm and pull her back, expecting more resistance than you get. "Walk with me."

She follows you across the hall and into a little meeting room that's scattered with evidence bags and files from the case. You let the door click shut behind her before you start speaking. "You need to take a breath. I know you, Elle. I know exactly what you're capable of. You just need to give yourself time to heal."

The fury in her eyes hasn't abated since you apprehended Lee a few hours earlier. You're not sure it will in this environment. "Take a walk. Get some air, and then come back."

She doesn't meet your eye as she pushes past you and storms out of the station.

***

"There's no reason for us to stick around anymore, is there?"

Gideon shakes his head and you purse your lips, glancing at the doors behind you. You haven't been able to shake the feeling that something terrible is going to happen, but you suppose that's a common notion on this team.

"Wheels up at noon tomorrow."

You're walking out to the parking lot with the team when the feeling hits you again. The last time you felt this level of dread was right before you got the call from organized crime just over two years ago.

Your fears are confirmed when Hotch's phone rings with a call from the local PD that they have Elle at Lee's address. The drive over is silent, and even though you're always the first to call Hotch out on his guilt spirals, you can't get the thought out of your head that this is all your fault. You knew she had come back too quickly. Never mind that it wasn't your call. You should've fought it harder.

Lee's bullet-riddled body is like a beacon of your guilt as Elle insists it was cut-and-dry self defense. "I was having a conversation with him and he drew his weapon and I fired."

The police don't let any of you talk to her as they load her into the back of their cruiser, but you know what you have to do if you want to be able to sleep tonight.

"I'm going to the station," you tell Hotch before flagging down another one of the officers on the scene. He moves to stop you, but you sidestep him and level him with a glare that high school you would have been proud of. "I have to do this."

The station doesn't finish processing her until halfway through the night, but you couldn't fall asleep even if you wanted to. When they finally remove her cuffs and bring her out, you stand up from the plastic chair you spent the last four hours in and stretch out your legs.

She doesn't spot you immediately, but when she does, her body almost deflates. "I'm fine, L/N. You didn't have to come here."

She stops in front of you, her jacket hanging over her arm as she stuffs her badge back into her pocket. If you didn't know her so well, you would be surprised by how relaxed she looks. You wouldn't recognize the front she has had up since she stepped off the plane.

"What happened, Elle?"

That catches her attention, and you watch as the mask slips by a hair. "You don't believe me?"

You don't want to accuse her of something you have no evidence of, but you also can't ignore all of the signs in front of you. "Can you really look me in the eye and say you didn't go there hoping Lee would provoke you?"

She just looks at you, and you watch in real time as the mask slides back into place. Without another word, she turns around and walks out of the station.

***

The next case doesn't come until a few days later. Elle gets cleared by the bureau's internal investigation, but you can't imagine Hotch won't tack on a psych eval just to be safe.

"Nicholas Faye of Ozona, Texas, was beaten to death roughly 13 hours ago."

JJ clicks her remote and the screen in the conference room changes, displaying the crime scene photos.

"God," you curse, averting your eyes for a moment. "He's just a child."

"Blunt force trauma to the head," she continues with a forlorn sigh. "He's the second young boy in Ozona to die the same death in the last 2 months. Local hunter found his body in the woods."

Morgan looks down at the case file. "First victim's name: Robbie Davis. Are these boys connected somehow?"

JJ shrugs. "Ozona's population's roughly 2, 500. Everyone has some kind of connection."

"Well if they weren't linked before, they most certainly are now."

Hotch and Gideon's absences from the conference room don't escape your notice, so you keep an eye out for them upon leaving the briefing.

You spot them discussing something in hushed whispers by the coffee station, and you wait for them to finish before you approach Hotch.

"You missed the briefing."

His eyes pinch, and you notice that the lines in his forehead are more prominent than usual. "What is it?"

"Elle missed her evaluation."

Your breath releases like a sigh. "I can check her apartment."

"No," he says matter-of-factly, with a shake of his head. "Gideon wants all of you in Texas for this one. I'll go look for her."

You would normally argue, but the horrific images from the briefing are still imprinted on the backs of your eyelids. "Okay. I'll see you soon."

He leaves you with a nod, and you grab your go-bag before following the rest of the team to the jet.

"You guys see Elle's cleared?" Reid pipes up as soon as the plane takes off.

Derek nods, his lips thinning. "Self defense."

"So it was a good shot."

"She hit what she was aiming for."

Reid frowns. "That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"If they cleared her how come she's not here with us?" You glance up and realize Reid is looking at you. "Or Hotch?"

You don't want to reveal more than is necessary, especially when the situation is this precarious and personal, but you're saved from responding when Gideon turns around and yells, "Focus on the case!"

JJ turns the conversation back to the unsub's motivations, and you all discuss a possible profile until a new female victim emerges that strays from the previous victimology.

Gideon doesn't waste any time delegating tasks. "When we land, Morgan and Reid, go to the new crime scene. The little girl."

He turns to you. "We'll look at the scene where Nicholas Faye was found."

The murder site is so far into the woods, that you can't help but imagine what it would've been like to be the little boy who was brought all the way out here with no hope of return. You can't believe that a young child would come this far out of their way unless they trusted the person they were following. "I think the victims knew their killer."

Gideon seems to be on the same train of thought. "They followed him to this spot."

"What makes you think that?" the local officer asks.

Gideon looks at you expectantly, and you take the invitation with a grateful nod. "Well I guess they went this deep into the woods because they trusted him. He probably stashed his weapon here beforehand. This means we're looking for someone intelligent, methodical."

The police officer accompanying you doesn't look sure of your assessment. "He bashed the kid's head in, it looks like a moment of rage to me!"

"I agree," Gideon muses, turning away and looking further into the woods. "It doesn't make any sense."

After informing the town's parents of the five PM curfew, and the children of the new buddy system in place, you excuse yourself to go call Hotch for an update.

"Anything new?" you ask when he answers the phone.

"I went to her appartment to talk to her," he explains, "but she was leaving with an overnight bag."

Your heart collapses in your chest. "She's running."

"I don't know, I hope not." He pauses for a beat. "I'm following her."

"All right," you sigh, wishing there was more you could do from here, "I really hope I'm wrong about this."

He's silent for a second, and you realize your slip up. "I just mean, I don't want to- I mean, fuck."

"I know," Hotch whispers. You can hear his car starting in the background. "But Gideon's right. She's innocent until proven guilty."

He ends the call with a promise to keep you updated, and you head back to the station, where another child has been reported missing. The missing boy's little brother draws your attention to a local legend that leads you to a Mr. Fennigan's so-called "haunted" house up in the hills.

***

"Garcia," you say into your phone before putting it on speaker and setting it down at the table you're sitting at. After establishing that Finnegan's house was empty, you and team have been searching the property for any indications that he's the unsub. "You got anything for me?"

"Only that Fennigan's house on the hill is like the Bates Motel of Ozona, Texas."

You roll your eyes, even though she can't see you. "We heard the legend from that counselor, Charles I think."

"Be careful, though," she says, her voice going lower as though she's telling a campfire story. "People that go into that house supposedly never come out."

"Garcia."

"But then there is that matter of his missing wife."

Deciding to humor her, you clear your throat and whisper, "Do you think she's still on the premises?"

"I got two words for you, my friend: 'rear window'. That guy probably chopped that lady up into delicious bitesize pieces."

You suppress a laugh. "Pen, do you really think that's gonna scare me?"

She huffs and you grin, tugging open one of the drawers next to you and peeking inside.

"You're no fun. Reid was scared shitless."

"He's just afraid of the dark," you smile, before your eyes catch on something bright under the table beside you. "Garcia, I gotta go. And cut Reid some slack."

"No promises, Mama."

You tuck your phone away and reach below the table, where you find a small pink backpack with the last victim's name scrawled on top in Sharpie. "Guys! I found something."

The clues from Finnegan's house lead you back to Charles, the town's guidance counselor, and then to his son, who the police are able to catch in the act of luring away Tracey Belle, another young girl. You don't relax until she's back with her parents, and even then, there's still a tension in your shoulders.

Cases involving children never get easier, but you can't help the kinship you feel to little Tracey Belle, who had the same look in her eyes that you recognized in yourself when you were ten years old. You don't remember your mom's funeral much, mostly because you were so young, but also because the whole day was a blur. The few flashes that come back here and there are your father's eyes, red from crying, and the cold gray of the headstone that you visited with him every year on the anniversary until you graduated.

The plane ride back is morose, and no one looks up from their reading material until it's time to disembark. Hotch isn't at the office when you drop off your case file, so you rub the exhaustion from your eyes and drive home.

There's a figure sitting on your porch when you pull into your driveway, and you're a moment from panicking when her face comes into the light.

"I turned in my badge," Elle says after you lock your car and walk up the steps.

Something twists in your gut, but the one emotion you aren't feeling is surprise. "Do you want to come inside? How long have you been waiting?"

She shakes her head, and you give her some time to formulate her thoughts. After a minute, she meets your eye again. "You were kind to me."

You don't know what to say, but you can see the change in her since just last week. She already looks lighter, and you can't help but think about how heavy the job can be. It's a weight on each of your lives that never seems to let up, and while you're going to be sad to see her go, you understand. It's the right choice.

Elle presses her lips together before curving them into a small smile. "You supported me after...after Garner. I'm gonna miss you."

You smile at her, even as your heart fills with sadness. "i'm going to miss you too."

Her body shifts like she's making to leave but then she turns back one last time. "You're too good for him, you know."

You get the sense that you know what she's referring to, but it's not something you can acknowledge without sending a flare shooting up your spine. She nods once, like that's all she wanted to say, and turns away into the night. You blink your eyes closed, squeezing them tightly as though it will somehow make the last few months a nightmare you can wake up from. But that's not how this works.

You give yourself a minute to pretend, but when you open your eyes again, she's gone.

***

The case that takes you to Golconda, Nevada feels almost unique to Gideon, as he takes each of the unsub's decisions personally in a way you haven't seen before.

Once you give the profile to the local police, the sheriff, Georgia Davis, leads you to a woman with a story to match the previous victimology.

"Jane," she says softly as she walks into the holding area at the back of the station. "These people are from the FBI. I'd like you to tell them your story."

Her story takes you through a tale of alien abductions and young love, but the kernel of truth underneath sounds awfully similar to the unsub's M.O. Her eyes still shine with a childlike tenacity that you don't usually see in other victims of such prolific and disturbing killers.

"Her subconscious mind has created a delusion that she was abducted by an alien," Gideon sighs after Sheriff George sends you all out of the room to let Jane rest. "She didn't show him the fear he wanted, so he let her go."

When it becomes clear that he is still in town, you disperse around the local R.V. park in search of his vehicle.

Hotch pairs you with Emily Prentiss, the new agent who joined the team after Elle left, and you welcome the opportunity to speak with her more than you've gotten the chance to since she arrived.

"How have you been settling in?" you ask her as you both stroll along the edge of the R.V. park.

"The team has been very welcoming," she says as she continues to scan the vehicles around you. "I'm just glad to be joining such an accomplished unit."

"That's kind of you," you smile, noting the extreme focus in her eyes. Her intelligence and intense concentration on each of the cases you've worked made much more sense when you learned about her history. Her background must have sparked more than a few nepotism claims over the years, so you don't mind letting her overcompensate, if it means she will prove to herself that she deserves to be here. "Everyone seems to like having you around. I certainly don't mind."

She shoots you a smile that you return by patting her forearm comfortingly. You were worried it would be hard for another agent to settle into the space Elle left on the team, but Prentiss has made easy work of it. She has the same humor as Derek and Penelope, and you've seen how well she gets along with you and JJ. Even Reid has welcomed her with open arms.

"This team is kind of famous," she says after a moment, piquing your interest.

"Oh?"

She shrugs, turning into another row of vehicles. "You've all been through so much, but it just seems to have made you more of a family."

When you first joined the team, that was all you wanted. You were by yourself, completely alone, and the team had become your family in the blink of an eye. It was exactly what you needed. These days, you're not so sure anymore. More family just means more people to lose.

"Can I ask you a question?"

You look at her with a nod. "Yeah, of course."

"It's about Agent Hotchner."

You should've figured. Every new agent tries to vie for his approval, until they realize it's not something you can force. "Yeah?"

She sighs, and you can tell this isn't something she wants to be talking about. "I don't know if I understand him. You're the only person who seems to have his ear. I guess I'm just wondering how I can do the same."

"I got his attention and respect through decades of friendship," you say, watching her eyes widen as you speak. "But he's not the enigma you may think he is. Showing off won't help your cause, but working hard and doing your job well is all you can really do."

She nods, taking in your words. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

You smile, bumping her shoulder to lighten the mood. "Don't worry about him. He knows your worth, I can tell."

Prentiss leans against you for a moment before shaking out her legs and turning back to the lot. "I don't think the unsub is here. We should meet up with the rest of the team."

Once Gideon puts it together that the unsub is hiding out somewhere in town, Hotch suggests that you all turn in for the night, but the older man doesn't want to listen.

"We could wait till first light, Gideon," he stresses, turning his body to stand between him and the officers. "It's gonna be dark soon."

"Do what you like," Jason grunts, shoving past him. "I'm gonna find him."

Hotch starts to go after him, but you step forward and put your hand on his shoulder. "Let him go. Maybe the walk back to the station will help clear his head."

He sighs heavily, and you know it's all the agreement you're going to get right now. "Let's head over there too. He needs our help if he wants to crack this before morning."

The stress lines on his forehead are almost as noticeable as they were the day Elle left the bureau, and you grab his wrist as he tries to turn away. You raise your eyebrows, knowing he'll be able to read the question written in the ridges of your face. How are you holding up?

Hotch rolls his neck to the side, stretching it out after what has been a very long day. When he looks back at you, you wait for a nod that comes after a moment. Alright. Been better, but alright.

Back at the station, the work is slow going, and you don't feel like anyone is helping with how uptight Gideon is acting. The air inside the small building has started to feel suffocating, and you finally get your chance to escape when Sheriff George grabs her car keys.

"I'm gonna take Jane home," she tells you when you approach her at her desk. "It's been a long night, and she needs to sleep in her own bed."

"You need to rest too," you say, noticing the droop of her eyes from sheer exhaustion. "Go home, Sheriff. I'll take her back. I remember her address from earlier."

She doesn't look convinced, so you lean in with a smile. "It's getting really stuffy in here. I need some air too."

That's all it takes to satisfy her, and she pats your arm with a nod before handing you the keys to the cruiser and walking to the exit.

You only see Morgan as you pick Jane up from the holding area, so you tell him you'll be back in a half hour and head out to the back lot.

"How long have you been living in this town?" you ask Jane as you make the short drive to her house.

"Since I was a teenager," she says dreamily, her eyes gazing out the window.

"You never wanted to live anywhere else?"

She shakes her head profusely. "Why would I? This is where I can be found."

You frown at her words, but it's not the oddest thing she has said today. When you arrive at her house, you park the cruiser out front and lead her up the porch steps, where she slowly unlocks the front door. "Do you want to come inside?"

You figure it wouldn't hurt to scope out the place, so you accept her invitation and follow her inside. "This is a beautiful home, Jane." Trinkets are scattered everywhere, and rudimentary sketches cover the walls.

"Thank you," she responds from another room. "You're very nice." You follow the sound of her voice to her kitchen, where she is struggling to lift a pitcher of juice from her fridge.

"Here, let me help you," you say, taking it from her and setting it down on the little breakfast table in front of her stove. "Do you have any cups?"

She walks over to a cupboard across from you, and you unclip your side-holster and set it on the table until the sound of a footstep behind you makes you spin on your heels.

You're assaulted by the sight of a tall, white man, who you immediately recognize from Gideon's profile earlier that day.

"Jane!" you yell, inching toward the table where your gun is. "I need you to run."

"Come with me, Jane," the man says, ignoring you completely. You use the moment of distraction to reach for your gun, but he's quicker than you. A sharp pinprick of pain shoots down your neck as your hand knocks over the pitcher of juice and your limbs suddenly feel like they weigh a million pounds.

"Jane, he's a murderer," you yell, hoping your voice doesn't sound as quiet as it does in your head. Your vision is already blurry, and you wish Reid was here to distract you by spouting off a list of fast-acting drugs from memory. "Jane, run!"

The last thing you hear before you black out is the sound of hurried footsteps receding into the background.

***

None of this makes sense. As each minute ticks by, he can't shake the feeling that they are missing something that's right under their noses.

"JJ just called," Morgan says, walking back into the station with his phone waving in his hand. "Apparently an anonymous caller called the tip line and claimed they saw an R.V. driven by a man who fits the description we gave to the media."

Hotch frowns. "Claimed?"

"Well, not a single R.V. or trailer has passed through any of the roadblocks."

Morgan's words click in his brain, and he instinctively glances beside him as an idea forms, but you aren't there. Now that he thinks of it, he hasn't seen you in over an hour.

"Who does the number belong to?" he asks, shifting his focus back.

Morgan is about to respond when Deputy Silo runs into the office, shoving past the other cops in his way. "We got a call from outside Jane's house. I think it was from the unsub."

Hotch stands up immediately, grabbing his jacket and gun, but next to him, Morgan stills, his face going slack.

"We need to head over there now," Hotch says, listing off a few instructions to the deputies nearby. Where are you?

"Hotch."

"And have some of your guys check in town," he continues, "in case he took her with him."

"Hotch."

He turns around. "What is it?"

"L/N drove Jane home."

His heart drops.

***

Just stay for a few more minutes, Jeff implores, his fingers dancing over your arm as you try to sit up.

You laugh as he tries to pull you back into the bed. I can't, I have to go into work.

Just five minutes, I promise. He pouts as you slide your legs out from under the covers. Three. One. One minute, please. I miss you.

I miss you too, you sigh, pressing a kiss to his lips. I'll see you tonight.

His hands reach up to caress your face, like he always does in the mornings. Cupping your cheek with his palm and running his fingers through your hair.

You settle into the feeling, wishing you had more time to just lay in bed with him. But you don't. Because Jeff's not here anymore.

Your eyes snap open right as the unsub tapes your mouth closed.

***

His hands grip the steering wheel as his SUV barrels up the small country road leading to Jane's house. He can't seem to press the gas pedal hard enough, and Reid's incessant foot-tapping in the backseat is driving him crazy, even though he understands the anxiety coursing through his body.

He beats Deputy Silo to the house, and flies out of the car without waiting for the other agents to open their doors. He's not sure what he's expecting to see inside as he pulls his gun from his waist holster, but he doesn't give himself a chance to think about it before kicking the door in.

"What the hell are you doing?" Morgan yells from behind him as he checks around the door and makes his way through the small hallway. The house is silent, aside from the footsteps of the agents behind him, but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears is almost deafening.

"Clear," he shouts after checking each room up to the kitchen. When he steps inside, there's juice all over the floor, and he spots the pitcher on its side beside the fridge. Juice, not blood.

His eyes flash to the table and his breath catches in his throat. He would recognize your holster anywhere, especially since he was with you when you bought it.

What do you think? It's not too bold, is it?

I definitely wouldn't mess with you.

"Why didn't she reach for her gun?" he wonders out loud.

"Because she couldn't." He turns around to see Reid holding up a large, empty syringe he found under the table.

He can't take his eyes off the juice on the floor, splattered everywhere as though someone had knocked it off the counter. The image of Elle's blood spilled all over her living room is still fresh in his mind, and he can't get over how easily the dark red cranberry juice seeping into the floorboards could have been yours.

Growing up, it was a common occurrence for you to patch him up and wash the blood off his skin, but there was only one time when he had to return the favor.

He still remembers the proud glint in your eyes after you had literally head-butted a man who had grabbed you in a college bar by Georgetown. Already a year into law school, he would've thought you'd have more forethought than to injure yourself in the hopes of getting back at the jackass, but once he saw your bloody grin, his annoyance had fizzled away.

"What on earth were you thinking?" he had asked as you stuck a scrap of napkin up your nostrils to control the flow after the head-butt broke a few blood vessels in your nose. He hadn't seen you much throughout undergrad, but he was glad that you hadn't changed too much, even if it meant you were just as wild as before. "I'm getting you ice."

A few minutes of angry haggling later, he returned to your side with a small bag of ice that he held to the bridge of your nose. Nothing he said could have ruined your mood that night, especially since the man had been kicked out of the bar and banned for life.

"Did you see the look on his face?" you had asked, your eyes twinkling behind the quickly melting ice.

"I did," he sighs, before breaking into a grin. "I'm just glad that your future law degree will give you another method of retaliation against scumbags like him."

You had laughed then, causing a few drops of blood to spray out of your nose, but all he could think about as he jerked back to avoid the mess was how happy he was that you were back in his life again.

Hotch flies back to the conversation happening around him, his brain refusing to let him imagine the worst case scenario.

"Those footprints," Morgan is saying as he starts listening again, "they got to be Jane's."

Reid nods, following along. "They go to the back."

"She escapes. The unsub knows the ketamine's gonna wear off, so he's got to act."

"No," one of the deputies says. "He hasn't got what he came here for."

His voice returns to him all at once. "So he took Y/N for leverage."

"He thinks we have Jane. Which means he wants a trade."

"Whatever he wants, we need to find Jane and your agent fast."

His agent. He feels sick at the thought of whatever that man is doing to you. "Garcia can track the phone number from the anonymous caller. You go to town, we'll find Jane."

***

Your eyes are blurry as you try to clear the fogginess in your head from whatever he injected you with. You can see the shape of the unsub moving around the room, and you squint your eyes to get a better look at the anatomical posters and drawings on the walls.

When your vision begins to focus again, the man comes toward you with a smile. "You're awake." He reaches forward to check the tape on your wrists and you try to jerk away from him, but your body is still flowing with the drug. You can't move as he brushes your hair behind your ear and smiles down at you, a sinister lack of emotion in his eyes. You stop trying to move, realizing it's no use. He's been doing this for years. Mutilating women. Cutting them to pieces.

You can feel your heart rate increasing, and you try not to look at the knives and saws littering the tables around you in an effort to keep yourself calm. Your team is looking for you. Derek knows where you went.

When he grabs your arms and starts lifting you off the makeshift operating table you were lying on, you try to scream, but the tape just pulls at your lips, tearing at the thin skin underneath.

Your eyes widen as he drops you into a metal coffin-like box, but he just looks at you with a shake of his head. "No need for that," he tsks before closing the lid over you, enveloping you in eery darkness.

***

Reid and Prentiss help him inspect Jane's house further for clues as to where the unsub could've taken you. The wind chimes of rib bone blowing in the breeze on the front porch catch his attention almost immediately.

His chest feels tight and he clears his throat. "He's obviously been here before and left these gifts for her."

"How romantic," Prentiss grimaces.

"Well, his version of romance."

Prentiss frowns. "What, are you trying to say you think he keeps coming back here because he's in love with her?"

"That's impossible," Reid interjects. "A sexual sadist can't feel love."

"Well," he says, "define love." He doesn't know if he can. He knows he loves Haley and Jack. He likes to think he always wants to be with them, but when a particularly excruciating case arrives on his desk, his desire to catch the bad guy trumps everything else in his mind. He knows he will always try to protect them from anyone or anything that wants to do them harm, but is that love?

It must be, because he feels the same instinct to protect you, but it manifests in him differently.

"Chemically, it involves surging brain elements called monoamines, dopamines, norepinephrine, and serotonin."

Of course that would be Reid's answer.

He continues rattling off a list of foods that contain these chemicals, and Hotch tunes him out, turning back to the house. They're missing something, they have to be. It's not until they spot a small trailer out back that it clicks.

***

You don't know how much time passes until the effects of the drug finally wear off enough for you to rub your wrists together to loosen the tape around them. The noises outside the coffin stopped a while ago, and you assume the man has left, likely to resume his search for Jane.

When the tape finally breaks, you let out a relieved gasp and let your arms rest for a few moments, before you begin slamming your fists into the bottom of the lid. It doesn't budge, no matter how hard you pound at it, so you change tactics, instead clawing your fingers at the seams in search of a hinge or screw you can loosen.

You're still trying to pry open the lid when you hear a muffled voice speaking outside the coffin. Despite your determination to stay calm, your heart squeezes in your chest as you bring your hands up to fight back in case he opens the lid. You feel someone slide your box across the floor, before opening the top and flooding your eyes with light.

When you adjust to the brightness, you see the familiar faces of Hotch, Reid, and Prentiss standing above you, and you almost cry with relief. Hotch reaches down with a small "thank god" and pulls you up and out of the coffin. Prentiss carefully peels the tape off your mouth, wincing as some of the skin of your lips comes away with it.

When you're standing up again, your legs give out as the fear leaves you, and you collapse into Hotch.

He catches you easily, holding you against him tightly as you shake from the sheer relief of being found before something irreversible happened. You're acutely aware of your teammates watching you hang onto your unit chief as though your life depends on it, but you can't bring yourself to let go.

It's only after your hands stop shaking that he finally pulls away.

***

When you return from Texas, most of the team heads straight home, but Gideon hangs back, calling you into his office.

"How are you doing after today?" he asks as you shut the door behind you and take a seat in front of his desk.

"Fine," you say simply, looking him straight in the eye. You're not sure exactly what you're feeling, but it definitely isn't fine. The few times your eyes fell closed on the flight back, you could still feel Frank's fingers pressing the tape onto your face.

Gideon scrutinizes you for a moment, his brow crinkling as he waits for you to elaborate. You can appreciate his intention, but you really don't feel like talking about it right now. Not when the memory of the cold metal on your skin is still fresh.

"Okay," he concedes after a minute of silence. It's not really a concession - you can already hear him recommending you for a psych evaluation - but it's enough for the moment. "You don't have to do it right away, but you need to eventually fill out an incident report. I can get you the paperwork now, but I mean it, take your time."

He reaches into his accordion file folder and pulls out a sheet of paper that's mostly blank, except for a few lines at the top. "Just hand it in to me or Hotch when you're done."

You accept the paper and leave his office, with a promise to head home soon. You heard his suggestion to finish it in your own time, but you can't imagine coming back to this at a later date.

Dropping into your chair, you lay the paper down on your desk and read over the form. The first section is the same as every other form you've had to fill out at the bureau: name, date, badge number.

The second half is just one line of instruction before a vast sea of white space. Describe the incident in detail.

Images from Frank's workshop flash in your mind. A roll of silver duct tape. A bloody washcloth. A rusted scalpel. Nothing you can effectively put onto paper.

The words don't come, even as the lights in the hallway automatically turn off, and the hushed voices from the nearby offices go silent. You eventually stand up to shake out your legs and get another coffee, not because you need it to stay awake, but because it feels like the normal thing to do. The idea of sleeping just takes you back to the darkness of the coffin, and a shudder runs through you as you pour yourself a cup and dump the muddy remains of the pot in the sink.

You're about to head back to your desk to fruitlessly stare at the form for a little while longer, when your eye catches on a small lamplight from Hotch's office at the top of the stairs. Gulping back a mouthful of stale coffee, you toss the rest in the trash and grab your report before hiking up the stairs.

"You're still here?" he asks when you knock on his door and push it open. "I thought you left hours ago."

The same question Gideon asked you earlier is etched into his face, but you know he won't voice it just yet. He was always good about knowing your boundaries (and when to push them).

"I could ask you the same thing," you smile with a shrug, before flopping down into the chair by his desk. "You really need to replace this chair, by the way. It's horribly uncomfortable."

He snorts quietly. "It's a perfectly fine chair."

You laugh, the sound quickly turning into a yawn.

"Go home," he stresses, dropping his pen and fixing you with a pointed stare.

"You first."

"I have work to do."

"So do I."

He looks down at the paper in your hands. "Gideon gave you the form already? I was going to give it you in a few days."

"I'm glad he gave it to me today," you say, before dropping your eyes with a sigh. "I've just been having some trouble finding the words to describe what happened."

"You don't have to do it now..." he starts, but you cut him off.

"I do. I don't want to come back to this later. I need to finish it now, while I still can."

"Okay," he accepts after a moment. "Then take your time. I'll be here."

You fall into a comfortable silence as you bring your pen back down and start writing.

***

He doesn't finish his own paperwork until well after midnight. When he looks up from his reports, you're asleep, your head resting on your crossed arms over his desk.

He would normally wake you and tell you to head home, but you look so peaceful for the first time in too long. Haley and Jack would have gone to bed hours ago, so he figures it won't hurt to stay with you for at least a little while as you get some much needed rest. He can't imagine that sleep has been coming easy - he saw you shaking yourself awake each time you closed your eyes on the plane - so he lets you slumber.

He still hasn't gotten the image of you with your hands and mouth taped out of his head, and he doesn't know if he ever will. When your legs had given out, his arms had instinctively shot forward to grab you before his brain could catch up. He can barely look at the bandages on your wrist now, where the tape rubbed your skin raw.

Standing up from his chair, he slides his suit jacket down his arms and steps around his desk. Being extra careful not to wake you, he drapes it over your shoulders and lets you sleep.

***

Hotch gives you the next week off, but the quiet solitude of your house is too much to bear with all of the memories swirling through your brain. You know he would have called you if there was a case out of town, so a few evenings later, you find yourself in your car, driving over to the Virginia field office.

When you walk into the bullpen, it's empty aside from Reid at his desk and Prentiss at the coffee station. It's late, and you assume Reid is just taking some notes down from the last case, but you aren't sure why Emily is still here.

"Hey," she says when she sees you sit at your desk. "Don't you have the week off?"

She looks exhausted, but you understand where she's coming from. The urge to overcompensate for being new. For not being the agent you're replacing. You felt it with Gideon when you were transferred here. She likely feels it with Elle.

"I needed to get out of the house," you explain, adjusting your seat and settling back.

"I hear that," she says, before putting a lid on her coffee cup and grabbing her bag. "I should actually go home for once, but I'll see you in a few days."

Spencer doesn't look up from his notepad until the sound of the door closing behind Emily jerks him from his stupor.

"You're here," he states, as though he's not sure if he is supposed to be asking a question or not. "What are you doing here?"

You shrug, smiling at him. For a genius, he can be kind of clueless sometimes. "I wanted to see you guys."

"Oh," he says, placing his pen on his desk, "well, it's just me here."

You grin. "Works for me."

That makes him smile slightly, but it falls in an instant. "I'm glad you're okay."

Your heart leaps into your throat. "Thanks, Spence, me too."

You expect him to return to his notes, but he just looks down and back up again. "Are you? Okay?"

You frown, more out of a lack of understanding, but he starts backtracking immediately. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't press-"

"It's fine," you reassure, pressing your lips together. "It's what everyone's thinking anyway."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, so you continue to fill the silence. "You just can't let the stares get to you."

"How, though?" he says after a beat. You're not sure what he's asking, but the confusion you're feeling must be mirrored in your expression, because he elaborates. "Ever since my mom came here for the Garner case, I feel like everyone has been looking at me, with all this...pity."

Your chest squeezes as you think about all of the lingering stares that followed him around in the week after Garner killed himself. Even Morgan couldn't hide his shock when Mrs. Reid showed up at the field office. "Have I?"

He shakes his head, and your chest relaxes with relief. Spencer glances up at you, and he looks so young for a second. "You're one of the few who hasn't."

"I guess I just understand the stares better than anyone," you sigh, feeling the familiar ache as your memories return to you in flashes.

You hear him suck in a breath as the realization dawns on him. "Agent Adler..."

You nod and Reid gives you a second to take a breath before he continues. "He was my instructor once, you know. At the academy."

You smile as your eyes shine with unshed tears. "Yeah, I know."

There's this kid in my hand-to-hand combat seminar.

Kid?

He can't be more than 20, maybe 21 years old. But the kid has guts.

You remember those nights before Jeff joined organized crime so fondly these days. The calm before the storm.

"He never treated me differently."

You look up with a sad smile, the memory receding as Spencer shares his own. "Hotch made me take a few physical training classes at the academy after I joined. All the other instructors acted like I was a joke, or a prank being pulled on them...but he never did."

That doesn't surprise you. Jeff was so nurturing and kind, much better than you ever were before you met him.

"I really miss him sometimes," he whispers softly.

You reach forward and press your hand on top of his. He doesn't pull back. "Me too, kid."

***

You can't remember the last time the team went out together. There was one night, what feels like years ago, when you all got dinner together after an especially cut-and-dry case that ended within the first day you arrived on scene. When the cases are long and hard-fought, it's not the same; everyone bolts the minute the jet hits the tarmac.

Tonight, something feels different. There hasn't been a new case in a couple of weeks, and everyone seems lighter.

"I'm back," Haley smiles, carefully setting two drinks down on the little high top table you are crowded around. "Spicy marg for Emily, and mojito for me."

You're still nursing the old fashioned you ordered a half hour ago, and Hotch is only halfway through his pint of Guinness.

"How are they treating you at the BAU, Emily?" Haley asks, before putting the straw in her mouth and taking a large sip.

"She means is he being nice to you," you grin, cocking your head at Hotch as he shoots you a look of mock-offense. You know I'm right.

He flashes his eyes. And?

"Everyone has been incredibly nice," she says with a smile as a waitress approaches you with a drink in her hand.

She sets it on the table in front of you and glances behind her. "That man over there bought this for you."

Haley starts hooting before the waitress has a chance to leave the vicinity. She's definitely starting to feel her mojito, but you would never judge her on her one night away from the baby.

"That was weird," you say, hoping you don't look as awkward as you feel.

Haley leans forward and grabs your hand, an earnest smile on her face. "You should go talk to him! Only if you want to, of course."

"Yeah, it's your night off," Emily agrees, shooting you a smirk over the rim of her margarita.

"I don't know, guys," you say, sliding the drink to the center of the table.

You can tell Haley isn't done encouraging you to have a wild night, so you brace yourself for the pounce, but thankfully, Hotch stands up just as she's opening her mouth, and takes her hand. "Come on, honey, let's go show them how it's done."

"Oh!" she smiles, her face lighting up as she follows him onto the dance floor. "You ladies don't have too much fun without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you grin, before downing the last of your original drink.

Emily watches them shimmy into the crowd, her chin resting on her palm. "They are so sweet."

"They've been that way forever," you agree, glancing back over at them as they dance lazily in the center of the dance floor. Haley's movements are a bit looser as she slides through his arms, but he keeps a firm grasp on her hand, keeping her upright even when it looks like she may fall.

He still looks at her the same way he did in high school, when he saw her at that first rehearsal for Pirates of Penzance. There's so much wonder in his eyes, like he's seeing her for the first time, every time.

***

You should be happier right now. You're done with high school, sitting in a sea of green caps and gowns with all of your friends, but all you can think about is how soon he's going to be gone.

You're going to be at different schools next year. Him at Harvard, you at UCLA, opposite ends of the country, for four years. The gravity of what that means didn't sink in until this very moment, the worst possible timing, because you're supposed to be happy right now.

"High school couldn't end fast enough," the girl next to you grins, her cap decorated with the glittery letters of the school she will be attending next year. "I'm so ready for all of this to be over."

You're not. You force your lips into a smile and let yourself glance a few rows up, just for a moment. When it's just the back of his head, you aren't confronted by the confusing emotions that have been swirling around your brain for the last few months. Of course you would realize you're in love with your best friend a semester before school ends. But that isn't the only reason your timing couldn't be worse.

You wave at your dad in the crowd, you is wearing more school colors than even you are, and he waves back enthusiastically. It distracts you for a moment, but then you face the front again, and your eyes are drawn back to the same place.

He turns back then, with a grin meant just for you, and your heart flutters like it's in a butterfly enclosure. You smile back, more genuine this time, but his attention shifts behind you after a quick nod. You don't have to turn back to know who he's looking at in the stands.

You shouldn't be surprised they got along so well, you practically set them up. After their first date, he seemed lighter than air, giddy with the impatient brush strokes of a first love. The look in his eyes now is the same as it was that day.

How did it go?

I'm gonna marry that girl one day.

You don't know why you had just assumed he was joking around. Hotch never joked about things like this.

Eventually, he turns back around in his seat, and you stare at your hands as you clasp and unclasp them over and over and over again until you no longer feel the cavity in your chest where your best friend used to be.

***

The next case comes in as you're working on your second drink. JJ corrals everyone at the bar into taxis, and sends you all off to the airport where the jet is already fueled and waiting.

"You missed a fun night," you note as Gideon climbs into the plane, a few minutes after the rest of you arrived.

"I had a good time," he says simply, before sitting by himself a few rows over. He hasn't spoken to you since he gave you the incident report, but you know it's not about you. Being forced to let Frank get away was hard on him, but you don't know how to assuage his guilt about your kidnapping if he won't even look at you.

Derek flips open his case file and huffs out a breath. "Well, good time's definitely over."

"The Kyles," JJ says, beginning the briefing as the plane takes off, "Dennis and Lacy were murdered an hour ago in their suburban Atlanta home."

You look up, assuming you heard her wrong. "Only an hour ago?"

"Police were on scene unusually fast," she nods.

Derek frowns. "Why?"

"One of the unsubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims."

Prentiss lets out a humorless laugh from across from you. "You're kidding."

"From inside the house."

JJ scans the file again. "According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there."

Gideon enters the conversation with a confused frown. "Sinners?"

"Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed." She holds up a photo of a page that looks torn out of a book.

"Revelations, chapter 6, verse 8."

Gideon sighs. "They're on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing."

***

Gideon was right, as he usually is. The killings don't stop, and videos of the murders are posted online, spreading the killers' message for them.

"JJ, why don't you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr. Hankel and see if he remembers something."

"On it."

Garcia calls almost immediately after they leave. "There's a new video from our psycho."

Hotch stills. "Get it on the monitor here as soon as you can."

The police officer you met at the first crime scene joins you, Hotch, and Morgan in front of the computer as the video appears on the screen. The first thing you see is the dirty mattress. Then come the dogs.

You avert your eyes as the woman's screams for help fill the room.

"Jezebel's death," Hotch whispers, almost to himself.

"My god," Morgan grimaces. "You can turn it off."

The officer suddenly leans forward. "Oh, wait."

"You haven't seen enough?" Morgan asks, disgust coloring his tone. He has two sisters, both of whom he protects fiercely. You can't imagine what he's thinking about as he watches the screen.

"Those dogs," he says, his voice growing in strength as he speaks. "Those three dogs attacked someone a couple of months ago. I would have had them impounded, but the victim knew the owner."

"You have the owner's name?"

He checks his notepad, flipping through it rapidly. "Hankel."

Your blood runs cold. "Hankel?"

"Tobias Hankel."

You're on your feet before he can finish saying his name.

***

The drive to the Hankel farmhouse is filled with hand wringing and nervous leg bouncing. You keep catching Hotch glancing over at you, but you don't care. You just need him to drive faster.

When he pulls up in front of the house, you and Emily throw your doors open before he can come to a complete stop. Hotch and Gideon head toward the house, so you lead Prentiss and Morgan over to the barn, where you can hear the faint sound of panicked breathing.

Lifting your gun and flashlight, you push open the barn door and are greeted by the sight of JJ pointing her gun at you. "JJ, it's L/N, Prentiss, and Morgan. You're okay."

She looks frenzied, her hair and clothes covered in a layer of sweat and grime. When her flashlight comes down, you notice the dead dogs on the ground.

"Tobias Hankel is the unsub," she gasps, stumbling over to you.

"We know, honey," you whisper, taking her arm and leading her outside, before glancing at Emily behind you. "Call an ambulance."

She nods and rushes over to the clearing in search of better cell signal as Derek steps forward, his face still twisted into a worried frown. "JJ, where's Reid?"

"They just completely tore her apart," she babbles, her eyes still frantic even as you put your hands on her shoulders to steady her. "There's nothing even left-"

"JJ, look at me."

Her eyes snap over to Morgan, and he brings his voice down again. "Where's Reid?"

"We split up," she says, her voice still tight, but slightly calmer. "He said he was going to go in the back."

"House is clear," Hotch calls from behind you, making you spin around, your mouth twisting with dread.

"So where is he?"

JJ's eyes glance back at the cornfield behind the house, and suddenly you're running. You can hear someone calling your name, but all you can think about is Spencer with an unsub who's idea of torture is biblical and cruel.

There are two sets of footprints in the dirt by the edge of the field, but after a few feet, they turn to drag marks. Oh no, oh god no.

***

The whole team - except for Reid, your brain keeps reminding you - sets up in Hankel's house, with even Garcia joining you on the scene to limit communication time.

You can't sleep as you alternate between reading Hankel's journals and hovering over Penelope's shoulder as she pores through his downloaded images and videos. Even as exhaustion pulls at your eyes, you periodically splash your face with water from the bathroom to keep yourself up. If anyone can understand how terrifying it is to be taken by a psychotic killer, it's you. Succumbing to sleep feels like a defeat, like you've given up on him.

You don't find anything useful until after Emily and JJ return from meeting with Tobias's N.A. sponsor, but in the sixth hour of scouring his journal, your brain clicks with a realization. "Guys, some parts of this journal match his father's handwriting. But they were written after he died."

"The bedrooms upstairs..." Gideon mutters, his eyes shifting up like they do when he's thinking. "One of Tobias's personalities may be his father."

Your brow furrows and you look down at the journal in front of you even as your eyes burn with fatigue. "Then who is Raphael?"

"My guess," Gideon sighs, "a mediator between the two."

Hotch looks at you, and you can see the concern etched into his face. "We need to start profiling Tobias's father. He may be the one who chose where to take Reid."

Morgan nods. "I'll get Garcia on it."

He leaves the room and Hotch comes over to the table, where you're still staring down at one of the journals. Your hands are covered in pink half-moon indentations where your nails were pressed, and he fights the urge to take you away from here, to save you from this hurt. "You should get some rest."

"I'm fine, Hotch," you whisper through gritted teeth. He can hear the worry in every word that leaves your mouth. The terror at the prospect of losing the team's youngest profiler.

"You didn't sleep at all last night," he points out gently.

"Neither did you."

You're not wrong. He didn't get a chance to shut his eyes either, but he's used to the sleepless nights. He supposes you are, too.

Your focus returns to the journal, and you don't notice as he slips out of the room and finds Gideon by the front of the house.

"Reid's brilliant," the older man sighs when he notices Hotch, almost like he's trying to convince himself. "He'll make it."

"I take advantage of Reid for his brain," he says softly, "but I never teach him how to handle things emotionally."

Jason shrugs. "Lead by example."

"What kind of example is that?"

For a bunch of criminal psychologists, you all still have no idea how to truly deal with losing people. Maybe that's just how life works. He thinks about the weeks after Jeff's death, when he wasn't sure if you would ever be okay again. Even as he held you while you cried, and promised that you would feel okay someday, he's not sure if he ever actually believed it.

But then one day, your eyes stopped shining at the mention of his name, and you no longer fell apart after each time you had to question a victim's widow.

Even after your mother's death, you were stoic. He remembers holding your hand at the funeral, but your grip was almost stronger than his, like you were holding him up with your sheer willpower to stay upright.

Seeing you now, he's not sure what will happen if Reid doesn't come back. He just knows he doesn't plan on finding out.

He and Gideon rush back inside when Garcia's voice frantically calls for everyone to look at Hankel's monitors. His eyes squint inadvertently as the video feed of Reid tied to a chair lights up the screens in front of them, almost like his brain is trying to block out the image.

Your hand flies to your mouth, but not before a small anguished sound escapes. "He's been beaten."

"This is for us," Garcia whispers, tears streaming down her cheeks. "He knows we're here."

"I'm gonna put this guy's head on a stick," Morgan spits out, before turning around and slamming his fist into the room's wooden door.

Gideon leans closer to the screens, clearly trying to take in any detail he can from the scene. "Why can't you locate him?"

"He's rerouting to a different I.P. address every 30 seconds," Garcia explains, her voice thick through the tears. "I can't track him."

***

The screens shut off and the video feed of Spencer is gone. Penelope starts frantically typing away at the keyboard, likely in an effort to regain the signal, but it doesn't seem to be working.

Your body feels heavy, like there are weights on all of your limbs. Realistically, you know it's mostly the stress and exhaustion, but you can't stop thinking about the frightened look on Reid's face and how he must be feeling.

When you walk back through the house, the sound of a hushed argument in the kitchen catches your attention.

"JJ, what do you want from me?"

You recognize Morgan's voice, and you almost turn away to give them some privacy, but something in JJ's voice as she responds keeps you at the door.

"I just...I want someone to tell me the truth."

"The truth is one of you is here, and one of you isn't. You gotta figure the rest out for yourself."

You're walking inside before you can stop yourself. "Morgan, go help Penelope with the video file."

He looks surprised when he sees you, but he doesn't argue before leaving the room.

JJ rakes a hand through her hair as you approach her slowly. She doesn't shy away as you stand next to her, so you reach out and squeeze her forearm once before pulling back. "I was terrified when Frank took me in Texas."

She looks up with a shocked expression, her eyes finally meeting yours for the first time all day.

"I was terrified," you repeat, "but I never lost hope, because I knew you guys would come for me, no matter what."

Her eyes crinkle with sorrow and you pat her arm again, almost as much for you as for her. "I didn't blame anyone for what happened to me, JJ. Reid isn't blaming you either."

Her lip trembles, and you pull her into a hug as the tears finally come.

***

"Your team members...choose one to die."

Spencer gasps on the grainy computer monitor. "Kill me."

"Tell me who dies."

"No."

The back and forth continues as Hankel stalks toward him and lines his revolver up with Reid's forehead. "Choose."

"I-I choose Aaron Hotchner."

The room stills.

"He's a classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4. 'Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense. In emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.'"

Reid's words sink in and you unconsciously reach towards Hotch, but he's already walking out of the room. You follow him into the other room, the rest of the team on your heels.

"I'm not a narcissist," he says, his voice lighter than you're expecting. He grabs a Bible from the table and quickly flips through it, landing on the verse Reid mentioned.

"Come on, look," Gideon urges. "You can't think anything from that. He's not in his right mind, Hotch."

He waves away everyone's concern. "No. Stop. Stop. All right, everybody right now- what's my worst quality?"

No one says anything. You can feel Morgan revving up, so you jump in to start things off. "You're a workaholic."

Your mind flashes back to your hometown's library, all the late nights where you would fall asleep in your chair as he worked away into the early hours of the morning. His home was a trigger after his father died, and you could see the guilt eating away at him as he realized he didn't miss his dad as much as he was supposed to. As much as Sean did. The guilt that wore him down as he struggled to figure out how to be there for his brother, when he couldn't understand his pain.

He nods at you then, and there's nothing but determination behind his eyes.

"You're a bully," JJ chimes in.

Morgan adds, "You can be a drill sergeant sometimes."

Hotch is still nodding. "Right."

"You don't trust women as much as men," Emily says, her voice wavering slightly.

"Ok, good," he says, tapping the page with his finger. "I'm all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't, ever."

"Hotch, what's your point," you whisper, chewing your lip as you anxiously glance back at the screen.

He shushes you with a wave of his hand. "Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that, and he also quoted Genesis, chapter 23, verse 4. Read it."

You lean forward, taking the book from him. "'I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight.'"

"He wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose."

"Bury my dead," Morgan repeats, his eyes widening. "He's in a cemetery."

***

Hotch heads to the nearest cemetery with Morgan and Gideon, while you follow closely behind, with JJ in the seat next to you and Emily in the back. The drive is short, and you all throw yourselves out of the SUV when you park, as everyone spreads out to search the cemetery.

"Come with me," you tell JJ when you see her eyes flit around the darkness, a slightly panicked expression on her face. "We'll find him."

The wet mulch of the graveyard sinks under your quick footsteps, and you keep your eyes peeled as his name choruses around you, from all of the officers milling around.

The search ends with the sound of a gunshot, and when you get to the source, you nearly collapse with the relief of seeing Hankel on the ground as Reid kneels beside him.

"Spencer," you gasp as the other agents examine Hankel's body. He looks up at the sound of your voice and his face contorts for a second as you kneel in front of him.

A small sound leaves his mouth and suddenly your arms are crushing him to you, your panic ebbing away with the rapid rise and fall of his chest. "You're okay. You're okay."

Hotch reaches out when you break apart and helps him up before Reid pulls him into a tight hug that surprises everyone. "I knew you'd understand."

Hotch tightens his arms for a moment, before they both pull back and JJ throws her arms around Reid. "I'm so sorry."

He pats her back, and for a split second, you can almost imagine he's comforting her, instead of the other way around. "It's all right. It wasn't your fault."

She steps away from him and he asks for a moment alone, so you all move back a few paces, allowing him the time to come to terms with the death of the man who somehow both tortured and saved him. You use the second of space to catch your breath as you will yourself not to let the tears of relief fall.

When Spencer finally stands up, you grab onto his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you, and you help him over to the ambulance that is waiting by the edge of the cemetery.

"Thank you," you gasp as he sits on the edge of the vehicle, suddenly unable to help yourself.

He frowns, his hair hanging in sweaty pieces in front of his face. "For what?"

"For staying alive."

***

The next case takes you to New York, where you find yourself hyper-vigilant as you watch Spencer try to acclimate to the job again. You can't help but notice the small changes in his demeanor, including the snappiness in his tone as he responds to everyone's questions, but you attribute it to the shock of his kidnapping.

After returning from the city, you decide to take some time to complete the paperwork you've been letting slide. Hotch managed to head home at a decent hour for once, and JJ and Prentiss are no where to be seen, but you spot Morgan twiddling his thumbs at his desk, his eyes darting over to peer at Reid almost as often as yours do.

An hour into scribbling out a case report, you head over to the coffee station to refill your mug. It has cooled down since you made it a couple of hours ago, but it still tastes just how you like it.

Burnt, Hotch's voice grumbles in your head. Even when he's gone, he won't leave you alone.

Topping off your mug, you turn around to get back to work and end up bumping into Reid, who looks worse for wear than he did on the jet.

"Shit, sorry," you smile, trying to get him to meet your eye. "I didn't see you there."

"Watch where you're going," he snaps, before stepping around you.

You don't let him get away that easily. Grabbing his arm, you hold him in place as he tries to wriggle away. "Spencer, don't do that. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"I'm fine," he says simply, his expression almost emotionless as he glances back at you over his shoulder.

"I'm serious," you say, putting extra emphasis on your words. "I know what you're feeling. I can help."

His expression shifts into one of animosity and something else you can't place. "You don't know anything about what I'm feeling."

His words are like a slap to the face, and he uses your break in focus to tug himself out of your grip and stalk over to the bathroom around the corner.

You press your lips together, willing yourself not to take it personally. He's just been through a horrifying ordeal. No one can expect him to continue on like normal, at least for a little while.

"Something is up with him," Morgan says from his desk, before spinning in his chair to look at the spot where Reid walked away. "He's acting...hostile."

"He's just adjusting," you say quickly, your protective instinct coming out in full force. You close your eyes for a moment to calm your voice down. "This is a normal reaction for what he went through."

Derek doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't press the issue. You don't even know if you're convincing yourself, because you know why this kind of hostility and irritation manifests: when you're hiding something.

You weren't a particularly crazy teenager, so you didn't have much to hide from your parents, but there was one secret you held until you left for college that manifested in your daily interactions. One secret that changed how you acted around your best friend, how you spoke to him, how you even looked at him.

You push the thought away before turning to stare at the bathroom door as it falls shut behind Reid. You know Morgan's right. You just don't know what to do.

***

"Hey, Reid," Derek says, looking at him with a small smile. "What's going on up there?"

He shrugs. "Just thinking of this old friend of mine from Las Vegas, Ethan. Pretty sure he lives in New Orleans now."

JJ called you at home a few hours ago with the briefing and an instruction to pack for warm weather. Wanting to pack light, you threw on the tank top you planned to wear, and a button-down for the flight. A few cursory glances around the jet tell you that almost everyone else had the same idea. Of course, Hotch is still in his suit, and Reid has on a sweater vest that you're sure he won't take off, even if the temperature skyrockets.

"Really?" Derek asks. "You going to give him a call?"

Reid shrugs again, and you absentmindedly wonder if his shoulders hurt from the number of times he has used that motion over the past week. "We grew up competing against each other in absolutely everything. Spelling bees, science fairs. We also both had our hearts set on joining the Bureau but first day at Quantico he backed out."

Emily, who is sitting next to you, looks up with a grin. "He probably just couldn't take the heat."

"It's not really for us to judge, is it?" Reid states, and her face falls immediately.

"Right. My bad."

He hasn't been as irritable in recent days, but sometimes a random response will rub him the wrong way. You find Emily's hand on the armrest and squeeze it once. She looks down at her hand and then at you, a grateful smile on her face.

JJ directs everyone back to the images that were recovered as you approach Louisiana.

"A slaughter like this takes time," you note as you examine the depth and shape of the wounds on the dead man in the photos before you.

"Andrei Chikatilo fantasized that the men he killed were his captives," Reid adds, chiming in from across the cabin, "and that torturing and mutilating them somehow made him a hero."

Gideon nods, looking up from his file. "This city's barely back to life. Something like this could cripple its psyche."

"So," you say, looking at JJ. "Where do we start?"

She sighs. "All of the records were washed away in Katrina."

"With no case files, there's only one place we can start," Hotch says, drawing your attention. "Square one."

The plane lands soon after, and you disembark into the midday heat, heading to the latest crime scene immediately after dropping your bags off at the station.

Instead of a body, there's a very alive man waiting for you all at the scene.

"You must be BAU," he says, reaching out to shake JJ's hand. "Will Lamontagne."

She smiles at him, accepting the handshake. "Hi, Jennifer Jareau, we spoke on the phone."

The detective is looking at her so intently, you almost feel like you're interrupting something by bring here. "Okay, then. I pictured you different."

You glance over at Emily, who is already looking at you, a smirk on her face.

"These are Agents Gideon, Morgan, Prentiss, and L/N," she introduces. "This is Detective William Lamontagne Jr."

He nods at you. "Appreciate you guys being here."

"Of course," you say, trying to keep the smile off your face as you shake his hand. Beside you, JJ has turned a light shade of mauve that you presently allow her to pretend is just from the heat.

***

"Morgan called," Hotch mentions when you finally meet him back at the station. He hasn't seen you since you got off the plane. "He and Prentiss think the unsub is a woman."

You ponder the idea, your eyes lighting up as the gaps in the profile get filled. "All straight male victims, killed while on a night out at the bars. Always in groups of other men, drinking. A woman would be able to lure them away. That makes sense."

He nods, turning back to the letters from the unsub. He's about to call the rest of the team back in when he notices your forehead crinkle out of the corner of his eye. You look up at him. "Wait, you said Prentiss and Morgan think it's a woman. What about Reid? Didn't he fly out with them?"

He sighs, mentally kicking himself for letting that slip. He doesn't want you worrying about Reid any more than you already have been, but he knows there isn't anything he can do to stop you. "Apparently he missed the flight. They couldn't get ahold of him."

"What?" Your brow furrows with concern, and he quickly interjects to keep you from spiraling. "They will be back from Texas any minute now, and Gideon said he spotted Reid heading over here a few minutes before you arrived. Nothing has happened to him."

"What are you talking about?" you exclaim, before bringing your voice down. "The worst thing happened to him. He's hurting more than any of us can possibly imagine. I just don't know how to help him get through it."

He doesn't correct you. He doesn't say that almost every single member of this team can at least somewhat relate to what Reid may be feeling, including you. Instead, he puts his hand on your arm and says, "You're doing all you can."

You sigh. "And what's that?"

"You're promising to be there when he's ready for your help." He sees the tension visibly leave your shoulders, and he pulls his hand back. "That's all any of us can do."

***

When another body is found in the French Quarter, the plan changes. Everyone disperses in pairs to cover the streets in the hopes of catching the unsub in action.

Even as night falls, the temperature doesn't, and you strip off your over-shirt, leaving you in a pale pink tank top. When you emerge from the bathroom, Hotch is the only one waiting for you outside, with all of the other pairs already patrolling Bourbon Street.

He gives you a funny look when he sees you tying your button-down around your waist, and you bump your shoulder against his with a laugh. "What are you looking at?"

He exhales in a quick burst, before meeting your eye. "You look different."

"That doesn't sound good."

"No," he shakes his head, his eyes blinking shut as he clearly regrets his choice of words, "no, it's good...uh, you look good."

Your stomach flips and you turn your face down to hide the smile that's threatening to appear. "Thanks, Hotch."

He huffs out a laugh before leading you up to the bars, where tourists are bustling around in large groups. The sounds of buskers playing their accordions at the street corners loosens a memory from your brain, and you turn to him with a bright smile. "Remember your first performance of Pirates of Penzance?"

He frowns. "I remember it being my first and last foray into the world of theater."

"No," you giggle, glancing around you periodically even as you continue the story. "I mean, do you remember how that one accordion player tripped and almost fell into the orchestra pit like ten minutes into opening night?"

His eyes light up at the memory and he laughs. "I thought it was hilarious, but Haley was so stressed out the whole performance. To this day, I've never seen that vein in her forehead get so big."

"You were pirate number four," you chastise him with a grin. "She was one of the leads. I hardly think you can compare experiences."

He shrugs, his eyes still scanning the vicinity. He looks like he wants to say something, but then you both notice Morgan and Reid rushing towards one of the side streets and your conversation halts. "Let's go."

***

With help from Detective Lamontagne and his late father, the team is able to catch the unsub right before she kills another man. Once she's in custody, you wait outside by the ambulances, watching from afar as JJ and Will talk by his car.

After a few minutes, she hands him something and walks back over to where you're standing. "I can't believe I just did that."

"What did you do?" you ask, trying not to laugh at how freaked out she looks.

She puts her face in her hands for a second, before looking at you with a sigh. "I gave him my number."

"That's good!" you smile, squeezing her arm. "That's good, right?"

"I don't know," she says softly, her eyes squinting as she looks at you. "He seems really sweet. And he's clearly great at his job. I think the distance just worries me."

"You can take it slow," you tell her earnestly. "This doesn't have to be any more serious than you want it to be."

"What if I want it to be serious? Eventually, I mean."

You can't help but smile at the look on her face. You recognize it on yourself from when you first met Jeff: the excitement of possibility. "Then that's up to you too."

She nods, and you let out a smile. "Let loose, JJ. He seems like a good one, and you definitely deserve something good."

JJ glances over at the police cars, where Will is talking to one of the paramedics. "I hope so."

***

You sit by yourself on the flight home, giving yourself a bit of time to unwind from the case. You don't encounter female unsubs often, but the ones that arise always have a tendency to get under your skin. Maybe it's because their motivations seem so different from the others. Or maybe you just feel bad for them.

You're so zoned out that you don't realize Spencer is sitting next to you until he taps your arm. "Hey."

"Hey, Spence," you smile, trying to keep your tone light so he doesn't think you expect too much. "What's up?"

He looks down for a beat before meeting your eyes. "I'm sorry."

Your heart twists and you press your lips together to keep from speaking too quickly. "You never have to apologize to me."

"I do," he says, shaking his head. "Please just let me."

He looks so strong all of a sudden. You haven't seen him look so steady in months, and it makes your chest feel lighter. "Okay. I forgive you, Spencer."

He nods, making a move to get up, but you don't let him get away just yet. "Just promise me something."

He purses his lips, like he's unsure of how to respond, but eventually he dips his chin into another nod.

"Promise me that next time you feel this way, you'll come to me."

He looks at you with an expression you can't decipher, but it quickly falls into contrition. "I promise."

***

"What are you thinking about?" Hotch's shoulder bumps yours as he sits down on the edge of the desk next to you.

"Nothing," you say quickly. He's not sure why you're lying. He can sniff out your dishonesty from a mile away.

"I thought you and Reid got a chance to talk on the plane last week," he frowns, following your line of sight.

You sigh, turning your gaze away from the younger agent. "We did. I just keep thinking about what he said about the unsub at the last scene."

He's like a drug addict.

It would be almost impossible for him to quit without help.

"All of us knew," he says softly, his eyes turning up, searching for something he can't see. "To some extent, we knew. But he's doing a lot better now. We just have to give him time to trust us with the truth."

Your eyes find his. "How did you know you could trust me? When we were kids, I mean?"

Your question takes him aback. He wants to say something profound, to mention a specific moment when he realized that he could share the worst parts of his life with you without the fear that the world would end, but it wasn't that poetic. All he knows is that you were a kid, and he was too, and the first time you saw the splotches of black and blue painting his skin, you didn't turn away. You looked at him, not with pity or sorrow, but with a strength that he still draws from to this day. "I think I just knew you would always be there."

You ponder his words, your eyes traveling back to Reid, who is flipping through a book he brought with him. He knows there are a lot of ways you could take what he said, but he believes you'll take what you need, because he was telling the truth.

You really were always there for him. Even when you weren't - either because of physical distance or because you were in a fight - he never doubted that you would be there if he needed you.

"Come on," he says after a beat. "Let's head back."

You nod, your mind still a million miles away. "Okay."

***

Friday nights used to be your date night. Jeff would promise to be home by seven, usually with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers, and you would cook something special together before watching a movie or falling into bed.

After he died, Friday nights became your least favorite time of the week, serving as a constant reminder of what you should have, and no longer do.

Today, for the first time in over two years, you think you might be ready to remember those nights you used to love. Grabbing a bottle of cabernet from your pantry, you pull out a thin-stemmed glass and pour yourself some wine. Your heart thuds heavily as you swirl the wine around, and you are willing yourself to bring the glass to your lips when your pager goes off. You feel a shameful sense of relief as you set your glass down and reach for your purse.

181 Arthur Street. Why does that look familiar?

You wrack your brain for a second before it clicks. It takes you less than a minute to toss your wine into the sink and grab your coat.

***

"Where's Gideon?" you ask when you spot Hotch and the team standing in his kitchen.

"He's not here," he replied. "It seems he left in a hurry."

Morgan looks at him with an urgency you recognize in yourself. "PD thinks he did this?"

"They have six witnesses who saw him running down the street covered in blood, wielding a gun."

"Okay, he was probably chasing the son of a bitch who did do this."

Hotch shrugs, and you can feel the momentary helplessness in the motion. "Either way, we're under strict orders not to get in the way of the investigation."

"Gideon's a suspect," Emily nods, "we're his colleagues."

"Conflict of interest," JJ agrees. "There's no way they'll ask for our help."

"Which he needs badly right now."

You turn into the bedroom to look at the crime scene for the first time. The mutilation of the victim's body brings a familiar nausea to your stomach that you swallow down. "Do we know who she is?"

Hotch comes in behind you. "An old school friend." He turns back to spout off a list of instructions to JJ, but you can't take your eyes off of the woman.

Evisceration of the torso. Removal of various organs. No defensive wounds.

Something in her hand catches your attention and your eyes flicker down to see what she's clutching. Using one of your gloved hands, you pry open her fist and reveal a broken piece of bone. A rib bone.

"Frank," you whisper, almost to yourself. "It's Frank."

"What did you say?" Morgan asks, stepping up next to you. You unfurl your hand to reveal the bone, and he swears under his breath. He turns around to address the rest of the team. "Frank's back."

After JJ snaps a dozen photos of the crime scene on her phone, you all head out into the night air to regroup and formulate a game plan. You hang behind the team on the walk out, your mind spinning with memories of hands and voices you still see sometimes when you're trying to fall asleep.

"Y/N." Your eyes snap up to Emily's as she strolls alongside you. "You okay?"

She looks sincere, and you find yourself wanting to talk all of a sudden. You nod, heaving out a sigh. "Yeah, it just feels very fresh all over again."

"I can imagine." She takes your hand and gives it a small squeeze. "You can come to me if you need a break from all of it."

She leaves you with an earnest smile, and you realize, not for the first time, how glad you are that she's on the team.

***

You aren't able to save Rebecca Garner this time. Frank kills her, and you once again feel that familiar bitterness of nausea rising in your throat as you see her mutilated body.

When you realize he's going to go after children again, you join Hotch and Morgan as they go to Tracey Belle's house.

"We need a crime scene team," Hotch barks into his comm when the home comes up empty, no trace of anyone inside.

"That's my house!"

You turn around and see Tracey's parents running up to the entrance, panic reflected in their eyes.

Hotch steps forward to block them. "Mr. Belle..."

"You have to let us in. My daughter's in there."

He turns to the mother. "Ma'am, you can't go in right now."

"Where's Tracy? Where is she?"

You can see the interaction pulling him down, like a ship anchored to the sea floor.

"What's important to know right now is Tracy is alive, okay? Your daughter's alive."

S.W.A.T. takes the parents aside to explain the situation to them in more detail, and you go to Hotch's side as a pained expression crosses his face. More than anything, you want to comfort him. To tell him that Tracey isn't Jack, that this won't happen to him...but how can you?

Gideon's girlfriend was murdered tonight. Jeff was killed while undercover. Your mother was killed by a drunk driver. No one is ever really safe.

Your eyes flash back over to Mr. and Mrs. Belle, and your chest tightens almost uncontrollably as you imagine how scared Tracey must be.

When Emily and JJ find Jane in a holding cell at the local precinct, her knowledge of Frank's backstory provides more clues about his whereabouts. You go with JJ and Reid to his mother's apartment in Manhattan, while the rest of the team heads to the train station to find Frank.

The idea of Tracey being all alone, frightened for her life, plagues your every thought as the three of you drive to the city. You try to clear your mind as you push through the front door and check for any sign of life. Instead, what you find is the dusty corpse of Frank's late mother.

"Guys, over here." Reid points to a latched door. Stepping around the bed, you immediately unlock the door and throw it open, revealing the tiny, shivering form of Tracey.

"Oh, sweetie," you gasp as sits up in fright, her posture only relaxing once she sees the FBI vests. "You're okay, honey."

You undo the ties on her wrists and she all but falls forward and into your arms. You pull her into a tight hug, making sure to be careful of any possible injuries she could have sustained. The feeling of her chest rising and falling against yours brings you a familiar comfort, and you squeeze her tighter, before finally letting go.

***

He finds himself in Strauss's office again as he explains what happened with the Frank case. How he killed himself and Jane, but he can't bring himself to take that as a failure, because he knows she never would've found the strength to leave him anyway. "Once again, the team has battled a monster and won."

"The future of the BAU is not in the balance here." Her eyes are brimming with scorn. "The residual impact as a result of the investigations into the crimes and criminals you pursue is. Every cause has its effect."

He almost scoffs. "You think I don't know that?"

"I believe you are no longer effective in your post."

There it is. He knows she never liked the way he handled his team. The next words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. "The modern furniture, strategically placed magazines, the framed diplomas, the art on the wall are all in conflict with your family photos."

Her eyes widen but he just continues, undeterred.

"You have three children, but you favor the middle one, your son."

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Of course you love all your children," he shrugs, "but not like your son."

Strauss twists her hand into a fist. "That's enough."

"The bonsai that you obsessively nurture is to compensate for feelings of failure as a mother..."

"Agent Hotchner," she says, her voice bordering on rage. "I said that is enough. My position is not in question here. As your superior I am questioning your ability to lead your team."

"My team?" he scoffs, unable to keep the malice from his tone. "Let me tell you about my team. Agent Morgan fought to protect his identity from the very people who could save him. Why? Because trust has to be earned and there are very few people he truly trusts.

"Reid's intellect is a shield which protects him from his emotions and at the moment his shield is under repair.

"Prentiss overcompensates because she doesn't yet feel she's a part of the team. She needn't worry.

"Every day, Agent Jareau fields dozens of requests for our team. And every night she goes home hoping she's made the right choices.

"Garcia fills her office with figurines and color to remind herself to smile as the horror fills her screens.

"Agent Gideon in many ways is damned by his profound knowledge of others, which is why he shares so little of himself. Yet he pours his heart into every case we handle.

"And Agent L/N," he pauses finally, taking a moment to find himself again, "she has taken the immense loss that life has handed to her and transformed it, not into cynicism, but into empathy, for her team, for the victims, for the world."

Strauss doesn't say anything, and he can't help the vindication that shines through his voice as he says, "I stand by my actions and I stand by my team. And if you think that you can find a better person for the job, good luck."

"Agent Hotchner," she emphasizes, making him look back at her one last time.

"How do I know you favor your son?"

She simply looks at him, a mixture of irritation and shame on her face.

"I'm good at my job."

***

"What's wrong?" Hotch looks up in surprise as you sidle up next to him. He was staring at the portrait of the FBI director, hanging in the hallway outside the bullpen, and he only does that when he's professionally stressed.

He looks like he wants to avoid the question, but you fix him with a glare that makes him sigh. "We're being evaluated."

"Doesn't that happen every year?" you ask, still not understanding.

"It's six months early."

You take a deep breath. This past year has been tough for everybody, but you think the team has come through the other side better people. "So they're assessing our unit. It'll be fine, we did great work this year."

"The only file they didn't request was mine."

That sends a spike of anxiety through your bloodstream, but he doesn't need your fear. "They could never fire you. You stepped up to the plate when Gideon left. You helped make this unit what it is."

You're the reason I joined at all, you want to say. You made this unit my family. I can't imagine being here without you.

But that isn't fair. He doesn't need to carry this with you. This burden of having no one else.

So instead you just smile at him, bump his shoulder with yours, and say, "You're going to be fine. This team wouldn't be the same without you."

TAGLIST: @citrusiove, @distortionbobble, @sanayikes (message me to be added!)

[thursdayinspace]

There is something about the way Mulder learns to accept and seek out emotional support and comfort throughout the course of the seasons. With all the casual physical contact that they have going on from the beginning, he seems ready to reach out, but doesn't seem to expect others to do the same. He feels deeply, but he keeps it to himself; something he seems to have learned from an early age. He's had to build his life around other people's pain since his sister disappered. He doesn't want to burden others with his needs.

Scully's "I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you" in "Tooms" is met with a joke immediately to lighten the mood -- a flirty joke, but still. He doesn't think he deserves how much she cares about him. Caring is his job. It's everyone else's job to disregard and dismiss his feelings and not take him seriously.

Scully setting up their secret meeting in "Little Green Men" -- he seems almost a little confused that she really just wanted to see him. He doesn't react when the touches his hair before she leaves. He doesn't react when she briefly takes his hand at the end. I don't think those little gestures of comfort don't register with him. They do. He simply doesn't quite know how to respond to them. He doesn't hesitate to gently cup her cheek and offer comfort when she wants to come back to work after her father's death. But he would never expect her to do that for him.

In "Anasazi" when he says "Thank you for taking care of me," it seems like he has to think about that sentence for a long time. Not because he isn't grateful, but because he doesn't really understand why she did it. Nothing more embarrassing than thanking someone and hearing "Oh, I didn't do it for you." And he said some pretty rude things to her when he was drugged, accusing her of betraying him. Who knows how much of it he remembers, but apparently enough to feel mortified. He never wanted to hurt her, but he must have, and then, after all that, she saved him and risked so much for him?

The scene in "Detour" comes to mind, the night in the forest when she tries to pull his head into her lap so he can get some rest and so that she can keep him warm, and he jokes "I don't want to wrestle." She doesn't have to do this, he's fine. He's not being a manly man who doesn't need anything, it's just that she's offering something that's hard to accept for him. She offers him a place to let go and stop pushing on. And he doesn't think she needs to do that, he is not fatally injured or anything, he'll be fine. But she wants him to be comfortable. She sees him, and is there for him.

At his mother's hospital bed in "Herrenvolk," she reaches for him and he lets himself cry into her shoulder. It's not just an emotional scene because of what he's going through. It's that he's allowing himself to truly let himself go in front of her. She reaches for him and he gives in and leans his face against her shoulder, holds onto her, letting her hold him. Letting her hold him. That's the really crucial point. Who has ever done that for him before? Who has ever allowed him his pain and told him it's okay, I know you have to feel like this right now, I know you're hurting, and I will be your tether for as long as you have to lose yourself in this?

"Sein und Zeit" -- he clings to her so tightly, lets her be his lifeline in this moment, as he knows she wants to be that for him. Letting go like that is so, so scary. There is always the fear that it will change someone's opinion of you. Make them think you're weak. Let them know what gets to you, and then you will always always always have to deal with them looking at you trying to asses how okay you are in stressful situations. It leaves you wide open and vulnerable. Learning that she doesn't expect him to be strong, that she doesn't believe that things don't affect him, that's a new concept. It requires so much trust.

Being able to take an offered hand is really fucking difficult, especially when you've been conditioned to be the one doing the reaching out. Leaning on someone is terrifying. Some patterns are hard to unlearn. But her steady presence finally allows him to show weakness and trust her to catch him when he falls. It lets him understand that he's allowed to fall sometimes.

[lover-of-mine]

I'm here to argue my case about how Eddie fell first and has in fact been semi-aware of his feelings since season 3 and it's currently dealing with the way he thinks he'll have to be the best man on Buck's wedding. So sit down, buckle up, grab your delusional drink of choice (today I'm drinking my delusional tea lol), and let's go.

Okay, given season 6 information, we know Buck and Eddie are roughly the same age and we know Eddie was pursued by Bobby and Bobby wanted a partner for Buck (unrelated but Bobby so hoped the military guy would balance out Buck and for a while there he ended up with two very impulsive firefighters and he definitely had a few what the hell have I done moments lol) so it's kinda safe to assume that Buck was one of the selling points of the 118 because Buck is a very competent firefighter and they would be on the same shift. So Eddie went in with the expectation of someone his age he could befriend. I'm making some assumptions but the internet tells me the academy takes a year, we know Eddie still doesn't have a permanent childcare plan, so this man is interacting outside of the academy exclusively with his 7 yo, his abuela, and tia for a year, so I think that the idea of having a friend his own age was appealing to him. Especially after the army and Shannon leaving him. So much so that with his sharp edges, you can actually read things like "I'd go lower" or "you're in the wrong light, man" as attempts to create a bond, very awkward I haven't tried to make friends in forever attempts but attempts nonetheless because he's trying to be helpful. Buck is being Buck, but even Eddie says I hear you're a good guy, so dude is trying to understand what's happening, what's setting Buck off, and while he matches Buck's energy after the gym conversation, he actually continues to try and bond with Buck with the thing that actually works and the "you're badass under pressure" that is still another attempt to get through to Buck. I have various theories about the way Eddie keeps trying to start something, the one I like the most and the most painful one is about how Eddie has had the weight of the world on his shoulders forever. And he had to grow up really fast, and then there is Buck annoying him about nicknames and discussing his body fat percentage, and with all that really carefree energy season 1 and beginning of season 2 Buck had that he probably wanted to know what it felt like. But Buck is Buck and Buck also wanted a friend so dude imprinted on Eddie like a baby duck. But Eddie doesn't mind, like before Bobby comes in to say who got the spot on the calendar, Eddie looks amused by Buck not annoyed. But up until now, that's casual. They're coworkers.

Then we have the earthquake. We know Christopher is Eddie's whole world and he's very careful about the people he lets into their life, considering the earthquake happened on Maddie's first day on the floor and she must've had some sort of training before that, it's safe to assume that Eddie didn't mention Chris at the firehouse for at least a few weeks and he is very hesitant to tell Buck about him, but again Buck is Buck and he switches into reassurance mode and that's when Eddie actually lets him in. I actually would love it if we had an explanation as to why Buck drove Eddie to Chris' school after the shift, but it's something that he went from being hesitant to even mention he existed to introducing Buck to him. But then we have the moment Buck becomes his ride-or-die, you imprinted on me but now I'm hanging on to you, with the whole going to the hospital with him because of abuela and also the way that Buck clears Chris staying at the firehouse before Eddie thinks to do it.

This moment right here it's what gets Eddie. He's ready to apologize and justify and he doesn't have to because Buck stepped up to do something simply because he realized Eddie needed help and he could do something about it. Eddie is doing everything alone and he needs help but he doesn't know how or who to ask for it and Buck just steps in and does it before he needs to ask. And then there's Carla. Buck tricks him into showing up and literally hands him the solution to his problems because Buck knows Eddie wouldn't accept it if Buck had said what that was about beforehand, but at no point does Buck make it seem like Eddie is a bad parent for needing help. And I think with the whole thing with his parents trying to take Chris from him, that really does something.

I really like to use the second gif here as a major example of Eddie's heart eyes for Buck, but the first one, when he realizes who Carla is and what she can give him completely changes his demeanor. He was ready to be polite, was probably trying to figure out a way out without saying he was still married, but instead, Buck does something that not only makes Eddie's life easier but makes Christopher's exponentially better. And right then, Eddie is done for. I'm not saying he fell in love with Buck here, I'm just saying right here is when Eddie goes you're stuck with me now dude, and let his guard down with Buck, as much as this Eddie can at least. That's when something starts for him. You can't change my mind on this one. But for now, there's the Shannon of it all, because Eddie does love Shannon but their relationship is beyond complicated. 

But Buck is still constant through Shannon and I think that's important, actually, because Eddie is having trouble trusting Shannon and I feel like having Buck around helps him not go straight to the worst-case scenario all the time. I don't have a point in mentioning this, it's just a clear show of how much Eddie already trusts Buck, but to have Buck go with him to take Chris to see Santa is so wild. Who takes their best friend to see Santa with their kid? Like, what?? But Isn't it interesting that Eddie decides to propose again after Buck asks when is the wedding? I find that fascinating really. Then Shannon dies, Buck almost dies, dude goes into move past it mode but the seed is there. Forever thinking about the wistful shot of Eddie saying almost after Hen says things are back to the way they should be. Something else about the finale it's that it's the first in the list of irrationality moments from Eddie regarding Buck. Eddie is a firefighter, he's objectively stronger than Chimney, so the logical thing to be done is to have Eddie helping lift the truck and Chim treating Buck. But no, at that moment he's a medic who's there to hold Buck's hand. He's just holding Buck's hand. He could've left Buck with Hen and go help lift the truck. But no, he's staying by Buck's side.

But season 3 is when things HAPPEN. We start out strong with the sheer excitement on Eddie's face that Buck is going back to work. Then the way Eddie just hands Christopher over to Buck without a single worry. "Oh, you're falling apart? Here's a kid, he will help" and just goes. We focus a lot on Buck's reaction to them finding Chris because it is what the show wants us to focus, this is the moment Buck looks at Chris and goes "shit I really love that kid" but Eddie looking back at Buck as he holds Chris is interesting. Eddie just went through 30 seconds (actually it's 1 minute 4 seconds from the moment Eddie notices Buck to Eddie having Chris in his arms not that it matters) of the worst possible moments in a parent's life and I guess, since Buck didn't have Chris, and Buck was too shaken to explain what had happened, he assumed Buck lost Chris during the first wave and he's looking back because he's shocked he saved not only himself but Chris from the wave, but from his focus to shift to Buck like that it's interesting. Even more, considering the way he barges into the loft to hand Chris over again. "There's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you" I'm sorry, there's no platonic explanation for the wording of this, okay? This is a man who looked at his honest to god wife, the mother of his child, and said "I can forgive you, I'm just not sure I can trust you" and trust is always the thing Eddie struggles with. To trust someone with Christopher is Eddie's ultimate show of love because it's what makes sense with his character, he is loyal until it kills him but nothing goes above Christopher. Also, Mr. Kids are signs hands over his own child to someone and I'm not supposed to look at that and go "huh wonder what he's feeling"? And there's the lawsuit of it all. Eddie gets that mad because he misses Buck and has no idea what to do with it. Because he got used to being a priority to Buck and he cannot handle the idea that maybe he's not. He's struggling, Chris is struggling and he needs Buck to do the thing he does where he fixes the problem without Eddie having to ask. But Buck has no real responsibility to Eddie or Chris, you can't really expect your best friend to base his life decisions on what's best for you. But it is the expectation Eddie has. He needs Buck to consider him. He needs Buck to be there for him no matter what. And at this point, when he's screaming at Buck as if they are a divorced couple, he's aware of something. He's definitely aware of something he doesn't want to look too closely at. 

Because being left by Buck leaves him completely off balance. And since Eddie is famous for not dealing with the shit he's feeling, things keep escalating because anger it's easier. Anger he can deal with. But in the end, he just wants Buck back so he forgives him the second he lets Buck speak. Because he wants the Buck that looks right through him, he wants what they have back. And he doesn't hesitate once he does. There are definitely some lingering feelings about how he kept pushing Shannon away and then she died and he "lost" time he could've had if he had let her in after he sought her out, so when Buck apologizes he just goes let's go team and moves on because tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. 

But I think there's something important to take into consideration, that it's Eddie's therapy session. He talks about not feeling anything, good or bad, and the his feelings are boxed thing and how he doesn't know what to do with them and yes, that comes back into play later, but it is important that Eddie doesn't name his feelings and he consistently tries to box them and move past them instead of feeling them, and it gets to a point where he's doing this even to positive things. So he is not looking too closely as to why missing Buck throws him off balance. He's all let's go back to the way things were and they do. Forever seeking for a heterosexual explanation to the kitchen scene in 3x09 but I also do think there are different types of tension between them there. Because while Buck is teasingly trying to get Eddie to admit on what had happened and how Buck's absence was a trigger for Eddie's fight club era in his flirty way of his, Eddie is trying to make him stop talking in a real "man don't make me look at what happened too closely" because he doesn't know what he'll find. Or if he's ready to find it. Considering the whole widower who never processed a big emotion in a healthy way he has going on there. But Buck is a really steady presence in Eddie's life, and Buck does his best to not put them in the lawsuit situation again, he's around, he's helping Eddie with parenting issues and then we have the well.

The well is a pivotal moment. Not just because of the sheer amount of Buck in Eddie's I need to keep fighting montage and the way Buck is acting above the ground, but because of the way Eddie changes his will after that and chooses to hide the fact that he did. Eddie has parents who are more than willing to raise Christopher, he has sisters, he has a lot of blood relatives that he could assign as Chris' guardians if something happens, but he chooses Buck. He chooses a firefighter, who is not only a firefighter, it's also his partner so if Eddie ends up in a life-threatening situation, Buck will probably be there too, so it's not the biggest safeguard. Buck is also single and without kids of his own. He also has known Buck for what? 2 years at that point? Eddie's lawyer probably stared at Eddie in disbelief when Eddie explained the situation. But the real thing about the will is that Eddie doesn't talk about it. Dude had some revelations while under all that mud because the only reason he wouldn't tell Buck is if he couldn't tell Buck without talking about himself. That's the only explanation for why he would hide it. Because Buck would ask why him, why now, like he did when Eddie did finally tell him, but right then Eddie can't shift the focus back to Buck. But there's a very subtle change in the way Eddie acts around Buck after the well. And again, sure, you can play off Eddie's reaction to when Buck wants to do something dangerous as he needs Buck to stay alive, but you can't really apply that logic to the way Eddie acts about Abby. Like, Eddie is petty to girls who want Buck, that's a fact. And Eddie is petty about Abby, but he also gets unsure about his place in Buck's life when he sees Buck's reaction to seeing Abby. And they focus on Eddie there. We get Eddie's reaction to that interaction. That means something.

We get Eddie legit feeling insecure about his place in Buck's life over the fact that Abby is there. And Eddie knows Abby as this entity, the one that got away, the person responsible for Buck being the way he is, because that's the way Abby is talked about, and sure, if I was in Eddie's shoes, only seeing the damage someone did to my best friend and then have them risking their life because of whatever lingering feelings are still there, I would also reserve myself the right to hate them, but it's more than that. Like, the way he backs away from the both of them once Buck goes into protector mode.

"Abby, His fiancée's Abby." *stomps away*. Absolutely insane interactions happen there that paint Buck as still hung up on Abby, even more after the whole thing with Red, but if you look at it with the right lenses, it paints Eddie as jealous of the way Buck is willing to put himself in danger to keep someone who broke him happy.

Every reaction from Eddie in the train wreck feels so calculated to give this idea that he's unsure of his place in Buck's life. His face when he realizes who he's talking to, his hand hovering over Buck's shoulder like he wants to comfort him but doesn't know if he can, the way he looks at Buck after Abby and Sam are in the ambulance. He's completely off balance at the sight of the ghost of Buck's great lost love and I'm supposed to believe that man is just experiencing platonic friendship feelings about his best friend? Come on. 

Season 4 is complicated. Because of the Ana and Taylor of it all. They do have the easy banter, Eddie being someone Buck can rely on during the whole mess with his parents, a few scenes of Buck completely comfortable in Eddie's space and Eddie just moving around him like he's meant to be there, but we know the Ana of it all happens because of external pressure. Eddie thinks he needs to date, so he grabs onto the first woman he can. The way his whole body relaxes when he realizes Christopher is with Buck is actually insane. But even though he's dating, he's holding on to Buck in a way. Absolutely obsessed with how much he hates Taylor. Dude legit looks like he's fantasizing about running her over with the fire engine while watching Buck and Taylor interact making Buck ignore him. 

But then Eddie gets shot. Say whatever the fuck you want Eddie reached for Buck. He thought he was dying. And he reached for Buck.

Eddie's been aware of something he doesn't want to look at too closely since the lawsuit that became harder to ignore after the well that he became fully aware of when he got shot. I know that what we have now says Eddie doesn't remember the shooting but wouldn't it be beautiful if he lied because he can't say what he remembers because everything he remembers is about Buck? The dramatic effect of I'm lying to you because I realized I loved you then but I can't tell you that now? Ugh. Anyway, Eddie got shot, things fell into place when he hit the ground, terrible place to have an oh! moment though. Dude just got shot, he's bleeding out, and the thing he gathers the rest of his energy is to ask if Buck is hurt. Sure, you can look at that as I think I'm dying so one of us has to make it home to Chris, but the possibility of it being an I love you I need to know you're okay before this kills me it's there. But he doesn't die. And when he wakes up Buck tells him it would've been better if he had been shot. You can see it on Eddie's face that he kept rehearsing what he was going to say about the will. Something else is the way that Ali takes Buck home after the truck so it would honestly make sense if Ana took Eddie home but he probably asked Buck to do it. That scene feels like an aborted love confession. "You act like you're expendable but you're wrong" the way he's saying you're not spare parts, you're not less important, you matter so much to me. Eddie knows Buck, he knows Buck associates love with pain. He wouldn't actually say something after he almost died, but it feels like he's working up to something. Sure he needs to break up with Ana, but there's time before he heals and can just, do something about it. But then Taylor fucking Kelly is in his welcome home party. He knew Buck and Taylor were working up to something. He knows Taylor being there means it happened. A violent reminder that Buck is straight (debatable) and doesn't feel the same (also debatable). So back to safety, he goes. 

I need to know who decided that having this particular look when they are literally talking about how Eddie is about to meet Ana's whole family was the way to go.

Also, can you believe Eddie needed Buck's approval to break up with the girlfriend he didn't even want to date anyway?

Season 5 is complicated because of Eddie's PTSD, 5A has a lot of Eddie pulling away because of the way he knew when the dam broke it wouldn't be pretty and he didn't want to take down anyone with him. But even when we see Eddie out of the job, we see him making an effort to include Buck and Taylor so Buck would know that he really did mean the whole "you're stuck with us" thing. I can talk about 5x11 to 5x14 and the implications of it to buddie for days, really, (you can read this for some of those thoughts), but the thing here I guess, it's a lot about how when the box exploded, the feelings are all over the place, Eddie sits back and lets Buck in. He talks about the way he's feeling in a way we don't really see Eddie do all that often and he leans on Buck through his recovery and the process of finding out how to not feel like there's no hope for himself and how to feel comfortable in his own skin again. And it's a lot about Buck and the way Buck is constant. Eddie feels like Buck is this steady presence in his life that can and does help Eddie move forward.

But the thing is, the shooting happened, Eddie realized things, Taylor Kelly (derogatory) happened, Taylor Kelly (derogatory) took herself out of the running, Eddie now has the tools to deal with his own emotions, he's single, Buck's single, they're having dinner with Chris at Buck's loft and Eddie is asking Buck about things Chris kept from him, but Eddie is in a fantasy bubble where he can pretend he has the things he wants without actually asking for anything to change. I mean, post therapy Eddie is better with his feelings, but he's still Eddie. He was in his little I have time bubble. That was violently popped. Because Buck died. And he had to save him. "Do more" is such a desperate thing for a first responder and former combat medic to scream at a team of doctors. He knows they always do the best they can. He did the best he could, but there's only so far he can go. The way he follows the gurney hurts me in so many ways. Some real don't go where I can't follow bullshit.

This is a man who watched Buck almost die multiple times. But this is also a man who never contemplated the possibility of Buck actually dying. The thing that drives me crazy about Eddie and everything surrounding Buck's death is that he can't look at it. He can't take his eyes off him, but once he's out of his sight he can't look at him again. He spends the whole time not looking at Buck. He looks away every time someone mentions it. Even when he's in the room with Chris he's not looking. 3 minutes 17 seconds. Look, this number bothers me. Bobby said they were 3 minutes out from the hospital and that it took 3 minutes to start compressions. So Buck was dead for 6 minutes. The rescue took 3 minutes. And Eddie counted. That's the only explanation for this particular number. He counted how long it took to get Buck to Chim and Hen and in the ambulance ready to go.

But Eddie was living comfortably in his bubble, I don't think he was at peace with it, but I do think he accepted it. But Buck wakes up, Buck seeks him out to help deal with the trauma. They look like a family, they act like a family, maybe it's not hopeless after all. Maybe Buck can feel the same and they can talk about it once Buck is not feeling so raw over his own death. Buck is just there all the time, something like that can't be one-sided, can it? But then Buck pulls the rug from under him. I made a very long post about the cemetery, you can read that one if you want, but the thing about that conversation is that it is a reminder that they are not on the same page. Because Buck throws him off balance again, considering the way Eddie was trying his hardest to be there for Buck just for Buck to say he's getting what he wants from a random woman he met a few days before. And it makes Eddie back away so he won't end up hurting his own feelings more. I think at this point Eddie has accepted the fact that he's going to have to be Buck's best man and is trying to find a way to be okay with it. So he's retreating to familiarity again. It explains why he's trying to recreate what he had with Shannon because he loved Shannon, so maybe if he found that again he wouldn't have to cut Buck off to move on. Because he needs Buck on some level but there is a limit on how much he can take while Buck goes around looking for something he already has.

And yes I talked and talked and talked but why does this mean Eddie fell first? Well, Buck will never figure it out on his own. The thing about Buck is that Buck doesn’t know what healthy love is. He thinks love is work, but in a it’s bleeding himself dry for someone way. He thinks love is pain. Eddie is safety. Eddie is home. He never knew home as a place where he can find love.

This is all for today. If you read this I love you. Also the doc I typed it out says it has over 4.3k words so this is long as fuck congratulations for sticking through it 🩷

[thefreakandthehair]

a collapsing star with tunnel vision.

@steddielovemonth prompt, day one: love is stealing an RV together (@shares-a-vest)

rating: t | wc: 650 | cw: smoking weed | tags: getting together, love confessions, idiots in love, come hell or high water I will make them stargaze, title from a fob song

Smoke curls out of the joint they share as Steve and Eddie lay in the grass just beyond Steve's pool. It's chilly, the cool breeze that takes the smoke into its wispy fingers and pulls it up towards the sky a harbinger of pending autumn. Summer has been fun, but Steve's grateful for the change of seasons.

A new season means more time between them and Vecna, between them and angry mobs, and hospital visits, and physical therapy.

Just a few months ago, he'd thought that his time was up so while summer used to be Steve's favorite season, he's thankful now to watch time pass. Especially when it crawls like this, slow and syrupy as the night blankets he and Eddie.

His friendship with Eddie had been a surprise, but all the more surprising is how it's easily its evolved from friendship to something more. Or, it has at least on Steve's end. Eddie is naturally touchy, always bouncing into Steve's personal space, poking him, calling him things like big boy or sweetheart. It's hard to tell with him if it's just how Eddie is, or if it means something.

Steve wants it to mean something. Probably has since the first time Eddie leaned in, close enough for Steve to feel his breath against his skin, and called him big boy back in the RV.

The RV that they stole. That Steve watched as Eddie deftly hot-wired, berating himself for knowing how to all the while. But for Steve, stealing that RV together told him a lot about Eddie, things that he still hasn't forgotten. Like how Eddie has hopes of being something more, how Eddie's known how to steal cars for years and only pulled it out of his arsenal when it was for good, how Eddie could've been picking locks and torturing those who've tortured him but he decides not to. Well before actual evil, Eddie had looked some of the worst the world has to offer directly in the eyes and didn't let it make a monster of him.

Stealing the RV together, oddly enough, lands Steve knee-deep in love with the man laying beside him, one hand on his stomach and the other point towards the sky, tracing imaginary constellations.

"... kinda like an evil mouse, right? You see that?"

Steve grins and stubs out the joint, saving the rest for later as he turns slightly to gaze at Eddie, not whatever weird evil mouse he thinks he sees among the stars.

"Yeah, definitely. Totally an evil mouse."

Eddie's head rolls to the side, cheek pressed against the grass, and furrows his brows. "You're not even looking."

"Eh, there's more important stuff to look at down here."

"Shut up." He watches as a pink hue colors Eddie's neck and cheeks, a blush creeping up from his collarbones. It's rare that Steve stuns Eddie these days, but when he does, it's his favorite thing in the whole world.

Maybe it's the joint, maybe it's the promise of a new season, or maybe it's just the safety he feels under the cover of night, but Steve scoots closer.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Steve asks, voice barely above a whisper. It doesn't need to be any louder, not with his mouth now so close to Eddie's.

Eddie nods, rolling over to his side to quick to be smooth.

Bravery is a term used loosely these days, but Steve feels brave in this moment. Feels untouchable.

"I think I kinda love you."

Silence rests loudly on the grass between them for one, two, three seconds before Eddie closes the distance, responding without words. Every nerve ending in Steve's broken but healing body lights up, electrical as the concept of new beginnings shivers down his spine.

The wind blows again as they kiss, reminding Steve of the seasons changing in his life, this time, in more ways than one.

[lemotmo]

They just don't get it. They intentionally don't want to get it. It's bizarre. The Max thing was spot on and I never thought of that before!

Q. I'm going to ask this with good intentions so hopefully you respond with equally good intentions. I don't understand how you all can honestly say they didn't have any buildup because I'm sorry they did. And they ended episode 5 in a truly good and sweet place so breaking them up in the very next episode was indeed a weird and out of nowhere choice. And I understand you're all excited, odd way to truly show love for Buck but that's not my business I guess. But Ryan pretty clearly shut down the Buddie stuff in his interviews So I don't know why you're so convinced.

A. Anon, I always attempt to answer asks with good intentions. But it's difficult not to sound perplexed when answering asks you know the sender doesn't actually believe themselves. They had absolutely no build up. You all keep throwing that word around and not a single one of you have offered any kind of example as to the build up you're talking about. The man was barely ever on screen. Buck barely ever spoke about him when he wasn't on screen. Build up is impossible if neither one of those things are occurring.

They met. They had a misunderstanding of a first kiss. They had a terrible first date that ended with Buck standing alone on a curb. Buck had a lovely conversation with Maddie about said terrible date, but that was an accident. He went to her because he was upset about lying to Eddie. Maddie even told Buck he wasn't sure of his own feelings ( I admit that personally I always leaned more into Maddie was probably talking about Buck not being sure of his attraction to a man in the first place, but Maddie has had Buck's underlying Eddie thing pegged since her arrival and his first kiss with Tommy was entirely muddled by his obvious misplaced confusion regarding Eddie so it's even more likely Eddie is who she was talking about). She then told Buck if he decided he had something to tell Eddie then he would. The entire conversation was Eddie based. Tommy made a brief appearance at the bachelor party, didn't bother dressing for the occasion, looked bored, yawned and then went to fight a fire. He and Buck didn't have a single conversation. He showed up at the hospital wedding, had a second kiss so Buck could have a mass coming out (the point of that scene was to ensure that Eddie was the only one who Buck personally came out too. Eddie was the only one he wanted the actual conversation with. That was the point of the hospital scene). Buck and Tommy have a weird date in the season finale where Tommy briefly mentions issues with his father after Buck tries to initiate a conversation about Bobby. Then he made a daddy sex joke. He had one scene in the premier with Buck and Eddie and spoke two lines. 'That sounds like Gerard ' and 'you're a vision in a cone'. We don't see him again until 8x5. He briefly shows up at the hospital and joins with Eddie in mocking Buck for his belief in curses. We see him at the loft with Buck where he brings him an ice pack and ibuprofen (which Buck is likely allergic too) and then tells Buck to turn off his laptop and go to bed while Buck is trying to talk about the Billy Boils stuff he's looked up. We see him sitting at the table the next day while Eddie, who Tommy called btw, is tending to Buck's face. We see him at the hospital with the team being the only one who doesn't receive the group text about Denny, making it noticeable that Tommy is an outsider (the entire point of him being in that scene). Then we see him at the graveyard with Buck but he's in the background and blurry. It is a clear contrast to the Buck and Eddie graveyard scene from season 6 where Eddie is standing beside Buck at the gravestone. Both scenes were written by the same person so it was a clear, intentional parallel. In episode 6 we see their anniversary date. Tommy gave Buck basketball tickets, the audience knows Buck doesn't like basketball (everyone knew it was over in that moment). Buck learns that Tommy used to date Abby. Tommy tells him that Abby went nuts after he broke up with her and took up with some 'himbo' half her age. The audience knows he's talking about Buck. Buck goes to Maddie and then Josh with his concern. Josh gives a speech that is so blatantly about Eddie it's laughable, I'm ignoring the glee part because gross. Tommy shows up for a date. Buck does what Buck always does when he's unsure of his true feelings and tries to double down on the relationship. He asks Tommy to move in with him. Tommy tells him that he can't do that because he knows how their relationship ends. He tells Buck that he's his first not his last. Buck makes a point of saying some people can be both. The show makes a point of having Tommy say yes but not usually. It was intentional to force that dialogue exchange into that scene because although Eddie won't be Buck's first he will be his last. Buck will be Eddie's first AND his last. Making Buck the exception to the rule Tommy is telling him about. Even their breakup was used to foreshadow Buck and Eddie.

This was their entire canon relationship. Where is a single scene of build up? Where is a single scene of great potential? There isn't one. Because all this relationship ever was was Buck's bisexual realization. The show used it to finally make Buck aware of his attraction to men. The rest of the relationship was used to juxtapose the contrasts between Eddie and Tommy. The show purposely made them surface level similar so they could highlight their differences as far as Buck goes. Tommy was a plot point for Buck's storyline. And a subplot leading into the Buck and Eddie storyline. He was never a character in his own right. He never had agency. He was never anything other than a plot point for Buck. Everything you all are screaming about are Cameos you paid for and headcanons you invented. It was a relationship built entirely in your minds and through Lou's grifting of you. That's not our fault. That's not the show's fault. And it's definitely not Oliver's fault. It's your fault. And it is Lou's fault. You're entirely to blame for your pain.

I'm only going to add one thing regarding the interviews because I think we've all explained the interview things at nauseam at this point. But I will say this. Every interview Ryan does with Max comes off as weird. Every single one. Ryan always overcompensates in Max interviews because I think he goes into them automatically on the defensive. Max has openly talked about is dislike of Ryan and it's clear that Ryan is not comfortable during those interviews and it comes across in his responses. Everything sounds defensive in those interviews. I ignore those interviews entirely. The show really should stop forcing Ryan to talk to him, at least in my opinion. Anyway anon, you already knew all of this but I condensed it nicely for you. Enjoy!

Thanks Nonny! Much appreciated!

I don't understand how people can see buildup in a relationship that only got 41 minutes in total over a couple of episodes in season 7 and 8. All their scenes were awkward and devoid of any chemistry. In season 8 there wasn't even any physical contact anymore, besides a kiss on the cheek. That isn't buildup. That is plot device.

As for Max Gao? Yeah, ever since Max wanted to get an interview with Ryan a few years back and it didn't work out, he's been really obvious in his dislike for Ryan. It must be an uncomfortable situation for Ryan.

All of the other interviews? Just forget about them for a while. Read them, but take them with a big bag of salt and forget them. Focus on the show and the story they seem to be telling us. Follow the clues in the narrative. Don't listen too much to showrunners and actors. They will deflect if they feel someone might get too close to the truth.

We've had so many examples in the past of 911 actors talking about things that didn't turn out to be true. This is following the same pattern in my opinion.

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[pia55tri]

Plz share wag/hab Carlo, TP Carlos, RB Carlos with the class plz

i was only going to share a few bits bc they're all very messy wips, but i talk too much, so... (please talk carcar with me tho, i will always welcome it)

WAG/HAB carlos

the longest of my wips, with the longest timeline (starts in 2021...)

super self-indulgent. they get together relatively early in the timeline, and then spend the rest of it being disgustingly in love.

carlos sees first oscar first. there's a f2 quali in the same city as his tournament, so he goes. he switched his career and started playing golf professionally a little later than most, but he's raced his whole life. it's in his blood. he knows when he's looking at a great driver on the track. so he stays through the session and ends up seeing oscar piastri take his helmet, and then his balaclava off. his hair poofs about his head, and carlos is sold. he is endeared, charmed. he thinks that he'd like to see more of this young man.

they meet some race weekends later in barcelona. carlos has now been to a few of oscar's races, has cheered for him even. oscar doesn't recognise him — he isn't a fan of golf, after all. oscar is still riding the high of a good race and a new trophy to his name. it's the endorphins and the adrenaline rushing through him that makes him more outwardly happy than he'd otherwise be. it's also why he doesn't shy away when a handsome stranger congratulates him for a brilliant drive.

“I just think you’re brilliant,” he says, with his big brown doe eyes and plush lips pulled into a smile. Like he means it. Oscar doesn’t know what to do with that. He continues earnestly, “I believe that you’re going great places. That you’ll be a Formula One World Champion someday.”

Oscar laughs. “Yeah? You know a lot of World Champions?”

The outrageously handsome man smiles wider, looking even more outrageously handsome. Oscar wants to file a complaint to God himself for sculpting him. “You could say that I know enough World Champions quite well.”

they get together in early 2022... oscar becomes a test driver... carlos climbs the world ranks... summer breaks and off-seasons are spent together... carlos teaches oscar how to play golf... racing each other in the sainzes's estate... oscar moves to monaco and takes carlos with him...

while oscar is a test/reserve driver, carlos still visits the track, but doesn't linger in the alpine hospitality. instead, he bothers his only close friend there — max. max, of course, finds it all to be hilarious. (“I don’t think I’ve seen you so often since you quit,” Max observes one day as he enters his room to find Carlos laid on his sofa. “Do you just miss me or do you get too lonely when loverboy is busy?”)

the wag/hab part comes after oscar is signed to mclaren and suddenly there are more cameras on him and his entourage. carlos can be often found around the mclaren hospitality or garage, and it's always a treat when the cameras zoom in on him. he's also not shy about posting on his socials when he's with oscar, not shy about sharing oscar's post-race posts either.

tl;dr: au where carlos is a pro golfer, and oscar is the same. in 2024, oscar is a race winner and carlos is an olympic athlete and also oscar's gorgeous friend who's always in the paddocks. all sorts of worlds are colliding, and those with the eyes to see are Looking.

TP carlos

short and sweet (hopefully?)

au in which carlos comes out of a retirement no one was really expecting (least of all himself) to join his old team as their team principal.

oscar is new to the grid. he'd signed literally just before carlos was kicked, so they haven't intersected yet, not really.

so oscar doesn't know what to think of their new tp, who's just a bit too young and too handsome and too there.

Oscar doesn’t know what to make of Carlos Sainz. He knows him, of course. He knows every Formula One winner in the last few years, and even before then. He’s seen Sainz on magazines, on the television, on his phone, and even on Lando’s. Carlos Sainz is a familiar figure to anyone who’s touched Formula One racing in the last half decade. But that’s Carlos Sainz, the handsome Ferrari driver. 

This is Carlos Sainz, McLaren’s new TP and test driver. It is an absurd situation, but everyone in the team is seemingly happy to have him around. It makes it exceedingly obvious, how young Oscar is, and how new he is to this space.

carlos is a very hands on tp who values driver input in every step of the process. he's also already rather familiar with oscar's teammate. this means a lot of meetings, phonecalls, and late night meetings with room service...

RB carlos

essentially, an au where things are just slightly different.

in which carlos grits his teeth and sticks through toro rosso until a rb promotion.

oscar signs with mclaren. that same year, carlos sainz, jr. becomes the 2023 wdc, the second spanish driver to do so in the history of the sport.

more or less a character study (?) of how it'd be if carlos stuck with rb despite everything. in this au, he's less friendly with the other drivers, more serious (not that he isn't already hh), and just generally a little exhausted all the time. his two closest friends are max and charles, and spends time with other drivers through their association only.

oscar piastri, however, is not the bright-eyed rookie carlos had been expecting. there is Something about him, and suddenly carlos is interested in someone outside his racecar, outside his very tight circle. carlos is so intrigued and so charmed. oscar is reserved, subdued, quiet. but there's a sharpness in him, a harshness that comes out only, it seems, when carlos rubs him the wrong way on track. it makes carlos wants to peel away his layers, see who he is beneath the pr training and the papaya fireproofs. maybe even beneath those.

oscar doesn't really like sainz. he knows he's spanish racing royalty and lando has put him on this pedestal as one of the greatest drivers ever, but he's just... a boring bloke. a vicious driver, sure. handsome with a nice smile, but rarely with anything behind it. serious. a little sad. he's winning races — and ruining oscar's, while he's at it — so really, if anyone should be upset, it should be oscar and not mr perfect.

max — along with charles and lando — is of the belief that they could be good together. meddling ensues.

tl;dr: carlos and oscar Noticing each other, but not doing anything about it until their friends catch on.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Nameless, Faceless: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

x

"A weak man has doubts before a decision. A strong man has them afterwards." - Carl Kraus

Four hours. Four hours of sleep you got after ending that grueling case in Canada. Four hours later, you are called into another case. JJ didn't disclose the details of the case since you'd get them as soon as you arrive. You and Spencer meet up with Derek at the same time, and Rossi and Emily greet you who are already outside of the newest victim's house.

You freeze in your tracks and put a hand to your stomach that grinds and churns painfully. You gasp and look at Spencer who puts a hand to your back in comfort.

"What's wrong?"

"Where's Hotch?" you ask.

"I don't know. He hasn't arrived yet."

"Are you okay?" Rossi asks.

"Yeah, my stomach hurts. It's probably from the lack of sleep. I'm gonna call Hotch." You take your phone out and call your boss but he doesn't answer. "He's not answering."

"He probably has it on vibrate. He'll show up eventually."

You don't tell them that you think something is seriously wrong with Hotch. If there isn't anything wrong, then you're going to worry everyone for no reason. You push down the feeling of uncertainty and focus on the case at hand.

"We're not working a case. Why call us to a crime scene?" Derek asks.

"I was hoping you knew."

"JJ said the police told her it was urgent."

"With four hours of sleep after what we went through in Canada, it better be," Derek sighs.

You five walk inside the victim's house where JJ, the detective, and the CSI agents are. Your stomach churns again and Derek notices the way you wince in pain.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

Something is wrong with Hotch, you can feel it. You don't want to worry anyone without knowing more details.

"Oh, you guys are already here. Do you guys remember Detective Walker?" JJ asks.

"Thanks for being here. I understand none of you are working on much rest."

"Who's the victim?" you clear your throat.

"His name is Nelson Martinez. From what we can figure, he answered his door, was forced into the apartment at gunpoint, and then shot in the chest. It was all pretty sloppy."

"No disrespect, but I don't understand why you need us here," Derek says.

"Two days ago, a local doctor named Tom Barton found a note addressed to him at the hospital. It said the person was planning to kill his son. If Dr. Barton tried to keep his son hidden, one person would die every day in his place."

"You think this is connected?"

"There was a note on the body. It's signed L.C. Yesterday, we had another victim with multiple gunshots outside the apartment. The shooter wrote L.C. in white chalk next to the body."

"Unless Dr. Barton puts his son in harm's way, we're gonna keep having a victim a day," Spencer says.

"We're Barton now?"

"He's at home," JJ answers. "He doesn't know about this victim yet."

"Where's Hotch?" you ask again.

"He's not answering his cell. I assume it's on vibrate. He'll get the message when he wakes up."

You hope all he's doing is sleeping.

"Try him again. He can meet us at Barton's house."

You leave the house first and grab your phone to call him again. Like the half dozen times before, it goes to voicemail.

You've reached Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. Please leave a detailed message. Thank you.

"Hotch, it's Y/N again. Listen, we're gonna need you to meet us at a house in Mclean, Virginia. 120 Kensington Road. Call me when you get this."

The sick feeling in your stomach only gets worse by the time you reach Dr. Barton's house. He is eager to let you into his house because this whole thing has him freaked about protecting his own life as well as his son's.

"Barton, where is your son right now?" Emily wonders.

"I asked him to stay up in his room."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that there was a threat against me at the hospital. I told him the police didn't take it seriously, that they wanted me to stay here for a few days, and that I wanted to have him with me."

"What about Jeffrey's mother?"

"She died when he was ten from breast cancer. Would someone really hurt Jeffrey?"

"Two people are dead already. Whoever sent that note is obviously serious."

"If I don't let Jeffrey out of the house, then another person's gonna die? He's only fifteen. I cannot put him in danger."

"We're not asking you to. Even if you were willing, we can't send him to school knowing he would endanger every student in the building. What we need to do now is go over everything we know and piece together how this person fits into your life," Rossi says.

"I can't think of anyone who would want to hurt Jeffrey," Dr. Barton stutters.

"Whoever wrote that note was putting you on notice. This is personal. He wants you to remember who he is, and until that happens, he hasn't accomplished what he set out to do."

"I know you've been asked this before, but please think again. Do you know anyone with the initials L.C.?" you wince in pain.

"I've looked everywhere," he sighs. "In my day planner, emails, and patient lists. There's no one."

"Have you noticed anyone who might have been watching you either at the hospital or here in the neighborhood?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"Both the victims he's killed have been Hispanic men in their forties. Have you had a patient recently that fits the description?" Detective Walker asks.

"I'm a trauma surgeon in D.C. I have endless patients of all demographics."

"We're gonna need records of all your recent surgeries."

"Of course."

"I'll call Garcia," JJ announces and steps off to the side.

"I don't understand. If he's mad at me, why not just kill me?"

You leave the group and walk over to JJ who is texting Penelope.

"Hey, is there any word from Hotch?"

"No, nothing."

"That's not like him," you sigh and touch your stomach.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I think it's from the lack of sleep," you lie.

Dr. Barton's phone rings and he eagerly picks it up thinking it's good news.

"Hello? ... Jeffrey? ... What's happening? Are you okay?" Derek immediately runs upstairs to check if Jeffrey is in his room only to discover that his window is wide open. "Jeffrey, what's going on? Talk to me."

"He's not up here."

"Jeffrey, where are you?" He hangs up regretfully and looks at everyone in the room. "He's at school. He says he's fine but for how long?"

"Let's go. JJ, you're with us. Prentiss, Y/N, and Reid stay with Dr. Barton and go through all of his case files. The unsub is in there," Rossis takes charge.

Dr. Barton doesn't give this two thoughts because as soon as half the group is out of the house, he goes running after them.

"Dr. Barton, please!"

"You need to go back inside," Rossi says.

"I'm coming with you. I'm gonna get my son."

"Sir, right now nobody is getting your son. Agent Prentiss or Y/N will explain it."

"I don't need an explanation. I'm getting Jeffrey."

"You need to listen right now. Once your son left this house, the safest place for him to be is at that school. We can control access in and out. Detective Walker will organize an evacuation as soon as the school day is done. If we incite a panic now and the unsub is outside, a lot of kids are gonna die," Derek explains.

"What if the killer is already at the school?"

"Then we'll be there, too. Let us do our job."

"Jeffrey knows better than this. He doesn't put himself in danger."

"I think he's just trying to do the right thing. He sees what his father does for a living. This is his way of trying to save lives, too."

"You'll be there?" Dr. Barton asks after a moment.

"Yes."

"Tell him I'm not mad at him. Tell him I love him, and I'm proud of him."

"We will."

Rossi's team leaves for the school while you, Emily, and Dr. Barton head back inside to where Spencer is. He's on the phone with Penelope going over the case files over a certain time period. This unsub started killing recently, so his case might not have been that long ago. The feeling in your stomach gets worse just as a new pain erupts in your side.

Something is seriously wrong with Hotch.

"This guy is a trauma surgeon working in a major metropolitan area. We are talking thousands of surgeries."

"Confine it to the last six months."

"That's still hundreds. Do you want biological information or full medical charts?"

"Can you get the full medical charts?"

"You know, for a smart boy, you still ask a lot of dumb questions. You'll have them in seconds."

"Ask her if Hotch checked in with her," you say.

"Did Hotch check in with you?"

"He's not with you?"

"He's probably on his way. Uh, thanks for everything. Bye." He hangs up on her. "She's going to email the files. We'll print them out from here."

"I could have my office send over the files."

"Trust us, this is faster. We need to dig through your life and try to figure out why this is happening. Let's start with the most recent cases first. Something set this guy off and odds are it's in your files. Let's concentrate on the note. For starters, we know that he's male."

"How do you know?" Dr. Barton asks.

"Women tend to add adjectives and very specific details to their notes. This has none of those," Emily explains. "Males are also more direct. The first sentence is 'I plan to kill your son'. Their notes tend to be more about themselves than the person they're writing to. For example, 'I watched you every day' and 'I will watch you lose everything'."

"We know he surveilled you and your son which means he either has enough money to be away from a regular job or he's currently unemployed. He's most likely a father because he's clearly grieving. He's taken great measures to make sure you feel his pain."

"Let's start with cases involving teenagers that were killed, but also anyone with a strong family presence. Just because your son is fifteen doesn't necessarily mean that his child is the same age."

"Have you had a lot of cases like this where someone taunts you with what they're gonna do?" Dr. Barton asks.

"A few."

"How did they end?" No one answers his question because it's not something he should hear. "Please."

"Suicide by cop seems to be an effective way for them to make their point while ending their suffering all at once," you answer.

"Jeffrey is leaving school in five hours. There's no way we can get through all these patients at this time."

"We already narrowed the list."

"We still have a hundred left." Dr. Barton is clearly upset with the way things are and he realizes he's lashing out. He takes a few deep breaths before continuing. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be callous but when you work in the ER, you don't remember names. You operate and you move on."

This is your opportunity to check in on Hotch. Please let him be sleeping.

"He's right. There are too many files here for us to profile in such a short time. I'm gonna go get Hotch. You two stay here and start filtering through the list. I should be back in half an hour."

"Who's that?"

"He's our supervisor. We weren't supposed to work today. We're having trouble getting ahold of him."

"We need more eyes. I'll be right back."

You kiss Spencer's head when you pass by him.

"The note doesn't say that he'll kill Jeffrey today. It says, 'If not today, tomorrow, or the next day'. Let's say he gets home safe. How long will you all be around to make sure he's okay?" Dr. Barton asks worriedly.

"Let's just get through today."

The principal of the school is more than happy to help the FBI once she hears exactly what is going on in her school. She wants to take action immediately but the team isn't so keen on the idea.

"I need to notify all the parents," the principal panics.

"We think that's a mistake."

"I'm in charge of keeping these kids safe, agent."

"Exactly, and there's a natural end to this day when buses and parents come to pick these kids up. Whoever's doing this is not an effective shooter. His killings are sloppy. So, if there's a panic, a lot of people could be caught in the crossfire," Derek explains.

"Can't you just take Jeffrey home?"

"If we do that and the unsub is watching, someone else is gonna be killed."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"We'll lock up every filter point except the front door. Nobody comes in. We say it's school policy so there will be no questions, and if someone needs to see a student, we bring the kids to them."

"I'll need a complete list and employment records of everyone already inside the building," JJ says.

"I'll brief your security guards and take care of all of the exits. After that, I need you to gather the faculty into small groups and bring them to me. We'll treat it as routine, and in the meantime I need you to get Jeffrey out of class as casually as possible. Can you do that?"

"Sure."

Derek, Rossi, and JJ follow the principal to the classroom Jeffrey is in and she steps inside alone.

"Jeffrey Barton. Could I see you for a moment?"

The other students mutter in curiosity as Jeffrey meets the principal in the empty hallway. He sees the three FBI agents and becomes worried.

"Hey, Jeffrey. My name's Derek Morgan. I'm with the FBI."

"I saw you in my living room."

"Listen, the first thing I need to know is if you've told anyone about what's happening?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Because even just one text message could set this place off."

"I'm sure."

"Alright. We're gonna keep you safe, kid. In order to do that, you're gonna have to stay calm and trust me. Do you understand? Every time you step out of class, I will be right here. Now, it's gonna look like I'm just another adult in the hallway with Principal Findlay, but I got your back."

"Is my dad okay?"

"He knows you were just trying to do the right thing. He just wants to get you home safe."

"Do you think somebody's trying to kill me to get back at him?"

"It's possible."

"Do you know why?"

"That's what we need to figure out."

Jeffrey goes back to class knowing he is going to be safe from whoever is targeting him. Even as he goes from class to class, he sees JJ and Derek right there watching him. He has no doubt that he is going to be safe, but the same thing can't be said for Hotch.

x

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[theminecraftbee]

hermit horror week day 5: season 1 or 2 or echoes

It's a nice gesture.

Joe finishes the monument, steps back, and looks at it. He removes one of the pieces required to finish it. He steps back. He looks at it.

It's a nice gesture. There's, like, blood on his hands, and every one of his scars aches, but it's a nice gesture, you know?

"It's not his fault it's havin' the opposite effect," Joe mutters to himself. He removes a piece of the monument. He puts it back. He remains standing in front of the thing GenerikB built for him, and he remains on Hermitcraft, and no new knowledge of how to leave again has come to his mind.

It's a nice gesture, it really, really is. Joe's, uh, not used to parts like this anymore. He doesn't get much a chance to show his hospitality. Talking to people, it's--new! It's new. It's fun, too, to do things like prank folks, and meet new folks, and build things for the sake of building them, and everything else. He's not mad he escaped to this Hermitcraft place, really, he's not. It's a nice place to be.

Joe walks in a circle around the monument.

It's a really nice gesture. The man who owns this place, he knows where Joe's from. Knows the sorts of things Joe is used to doing. Went about building a monument, so Joe would have something to do. In return, Joe's thinking he's going to break into the man's impenetrable base, just to show him that it's not so impenetrable when you're used to dying, and dying, and dying, and dying, and dying, and...

So the thing is, two weeks after arriving, now, he doesn't want to admit it. Everyone's hospitality, it had been grand. Far better than he'd gotten before. There hadn't even been any arenas he was expected to kill people in for their amusement! If he ever got the chance, he'd rate them five stars. Not a death trap, no vindictive gods, no way out.

No.

Okay.

He pulls a block off the monument and puts it back. He waits for the capricious god of this world to show him the exit.

So the thing is, two weeks after arriving, he got a bit of cold feet. Not anyone's fault, really. He's just, like. Okay, he does talk to people. Cleo, Cleo he keeps in contact. Good friend of his, Cleo. Doesn't have any hard feelings about the murder. Makes sense, given that she's neck-deep in everything too. Used to the kinds of people they are. Is he making sense? They're--used to it. It's easy with her. She knows not to question how a man who likes building houses out of sand and gravel to show off how precarious they are ended up with scars. She was there. Not, like, with him, but--

Anyway. The problem is that the people here are... nice. Nicer than he knows how to deal with.

The problem is that he can't leave.

He's tried to figure it out. He thinks, like, the server's a Chinese finger trap, maybe? The more you try to get out, the more stuck you get. That doesn't make sense, because he can see the writing on the wall, and he's not the only one who wants to try to leave. He thinks the one who made this place is leaving here soon, too.

That's why he's back here, because--like, at the time, it had probably been good he didn't leave. If he'd left, he'd never have jumped on that box, or made the friends he's made, or built a piston door, or even gotten anywhere close to reaching Hypno's house with his railway. (One of these days, he'll make it.) He wouldn't have proven to himself, hey, he can build, too, and make jokes, and be the odd one out. He's good with those things. So he'd thought that someone was looking out for him, not letting him leave, and hey, nothing had ever managed to trap Joe forever.

He's way too good at dying for anything to trap him forever. He's, like, got a song about it and everything? Man, and they'd laughed when he'd sung it to them, too, but then again, that's just that he's bad at singing, and GenerikB is leaving.

He removes a piece from the monument. He puts it back. He circles the structure.

It's a nice gesture. It was a nice gesture when he joined, and it's a nice gesture now. Little taste of the constant death labyrinth he hailed from, you know? Little taste of--here, here's that goal you're used to. It's cute. It's cute.

So, like, he's completed the monument, though. He's done it.

And he's still--here. He can't leave.

And he's, uh. Not really certain what happens to a world, when its god abandons it, but by god, or maybe Vechs, or certainly GenerikB, that god is leaving it.

And Joe--

The thing is, this time when he gets cold feet, it's not just going to be him trapped.

And he'll find his way out. He always does.

It's just--

Two weeks after joining, he'd gotten cold feet. Cleo, she understands. She's used to what happens when people are cruel. People who are used to that--she'd probably laugh if he told her he'd gone and gotten trapped because he got attached to things, like any stray creeper couldn't take them.

But here he is. And here they are.

The monument doesn't let him out, and its god is abandoning them all.

He doesn't know how to get anyone out but himself.

He pulls a block. He replaces it.

He doesn't know where to start looking, except that it will be very painful, because it always is, and he will not stop until it's done, because he never does.

He pulls a block. He replaces it.

The shrine stays dead.

[pikaflute]

This post contains spoilers for Army of the Doomstar, and also screencaps from the movie under the read more. This post is just about Nathan and Pickles by the way.

Okay let's talk about Nickles is real. I said in an earlier post that Charles directly tells Pickles to be Nathan's friend. Nathan at this point is afraid. He's got....a lot going on after being recently hospitalized due to exhaustion, coupled with the trauma of being the only one who remembers Requiem and having to be put on Xanax (possibly for anxiety). So now more than ever Nathan needs support. He needs his band. He needs a friend. He needs....well Pickles.

Obviously Pickles is already Nathan's friend. His best friend even. Despite all of Season 4, Pickles still cares a lot about Nathan. Even during this conversation with Charles he's like 'that's all?'. He's already doing that. Pickles throughout this movie is the one character trying his hardest to be there for Nathan. Calling him buddy, being supporting of him during the training, keeping an eye on him, doing everything he can to make sure Nathan is alright to not only write the song to save the world but just in general. Nathan needs it.

It also is worth mentioning that Charles probably chose Pickles for that exact reason. He probably knew he didn't need to tell him to be Nathan's friend either. No other member of Dethklok would've been as close to Nathan as Nathan is with Pickles. His drummer.

When they're with Knubbler, he calls them both the dad (nathan) and the mom (pickles). Why did he do this. I know why but. Humor me. By the way Pickles really leans into the mom role in this. This is a real line said in the movie:

Anyway during the scene after Murderface's exorcism, Nathan blames himself for fucking up the song of salvation. And then Pickles slaps him. When Nathan says "Everyone abandoned me" Pickles tells him:

Pickles knows! He experienced it! Nathan pushed him away and didn't tell him about the whale in Season 4 which caused the initial fight in the season. Coupled along with Nathan's attraction towards Abigail, Pickles knows first hand how Nathan pushes people out and shuts down when things happen to him. Now he's doing it again. He's shut out his band, he "broke up" with the fans due to his own issues, and with Abigail he couldn't let his own feelings be pushed aside and listen to hers.

Sure. It looks like slapping him isn't the best way to get through to him, but, Pickles knows Nathan. This is being his friend. Nathan is stubborn. He doesn't listen. This is how it's gonna get through to Nathan that, hey dipshit, you're not alone. You have others. You have me. (In fact. It's how Nathan go to Pickles in Fatherklok if you remember that correctly.) Nathan realizing he wants everyone to come back to help him is also somewhat similar to his apology to Pickles to come back at the end of Season 4. But that's just be tinhatting.

Also during this Murderface goes "this is weird." He doesn't like seeing mom and dad fight.

Later. Before they perform the song of salvation: this happens. With Nathan calling Pickles the best mother (fucker. Motherfucker.)

If this line isn't a metaphor for "I love you" than I'm going to play in traffic. The emphasis on the you in Nathan's line. I'll blow up.

Later on when they get kidnapped by Salacia and are essentially given their last meals, Pickles' orders Nathan's, further cementing how they're friends. A lead singer and his drummer.

why are you looking at a another man like that. HUH

Also Pickles touches Nathan like a lot this movie.

DO NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THIS MAN.

THE TENDER TOUCH. THE CARESS. MAN WHEN I SAW THIS I HAD TO GO TAKE A LAP AROUND MY HOUSE. I GOT SO EMOTIONAL AND PISSED. MAN. MAAAAAN.

This movie nails their relationship. How Nathan acts because of his role on the metalocalypse. How he handles his emotions. How the band handles their emotions. How Nathan and Pickles' friendship still is strong despite everything that happened to them. How Pickles is the one to snap Nathan to his senses and act like a real friend to Nathan; one he really needed. This movie is amazing and I cried like a baby.

Anyway this was Pickles in AOTD

And this was Nathan

Run me a check for nickles screenwriting credits Brendon. I'll be expecting it in my inbox by the end of the week.

[finitepeace]

3 months since I finished Hannibal tv show. Not moving on at all from hannigram.

and here are the fics that i read to soothe the pain and pretend that the mess that is hannigram relationship has been tidied up.

Personal favorites are marked with 🦌 <this is supposed to be a stag but then it turns out to be a goat???>

arranged by time setting.

11 season1 fics, 11 season2 fics , 2 season 3fics, 14 post/before canon fics, 5 fics AU, 2 missing scene fics, 2 collections.

Season 1 divergence

Kissable by FragileTeacup |2,5k words | A Season 1 AU ficlet which explores a simple premise: what would have happened if, after Will had gone to Hannibal's house and confessed to kissing Alana Bloom, he had ended up kissing Hannibal? 

Consenting to Dream by emungere | E, 38k words | A seduction through physical objects. It starts with a scarf loaned to Will on a cold day, but Hannibal, as usual, isn't satisfied with anything small.

🦌 Marriage of Inconvenience by FragileTeacup | 3,5k words E | When Will Graham hears that Hannibal Lecter has been threatened with deportation, he's far more dismayed than he ever thought he would be. But a flippant suggestion from Brian Zeller gives him an idea...

Beau Ideal by Gweezle | E, 21k words | will used to be a model -who might be attracted murder-

🦌 Dancing with the Beast by proser | E, 86k words | In order to catch a mediocre serial killer, Will must pose as Hannibal's date for a series of pretentious social events.

La Maison Rouge by Randstad | 2k words, Hannibal starts to show up at Will's house at the crack of dawn to make him breakfast, killing two birds with one stone: cooking is one of his many passions, and, honestly, Will Graham is climbing up the list.

Hyacinth House by bluesyturtle for Azremodehar | 80k, E,  It all starts with an injury Will sustains while sleepwalking. [Podfic] read by justbreathe

Kindling by gleamingandwholeanddeadly (something_safe) | 10k words, e | When Franklyn's advances of friendship become too much for even Hannibal to politely ignore, he enlists Will's help.

🦌 Separately to a Wood by emungere | 13k words, T, canon-divergence in which hannibal proposed to will on their 2nd day meeting. 

Demolition Lovers by thefangirlingdead | 76k words, E, hannibal got found out early, kidnapped will to run with him and will struggled with the usual ‘i love him but he is a murder’.. 

🦌 Small Repairs by Devereauxs_Disease | E, 20k words, divergence season 1, hannigram keeps finding reason to meet each other 

Season 2 divergence

🦌 The Fox's Wedding by thehoyden | E, 11k, post S2 finale fix-it, hannibal took will to japan

Amourette by Petronia | 3k words, E, divergence on season 2 

I shouldn't feel lonely when you're gone by Angelic_Disaster | 28k words, E, amnesiac Dr. Lecter,

Slip the Veil by ThisBeautifulDrowning   21,844  Post-Mizumono, Will heals, and thinks, and follows his heart. 

🦌 each according to its kind by chaparral_crown | 192k words | Season 2 divergence | instead of taking revenge and planning to expose hannibal, will drop everything and run away 

Where All Ladders Start by emungere | E, 43k, season 2 divergence, hannibal regrets and releases will from prison 

Pattern Break by ThisBeautifulDrowning | e, 72k | No, Will was going to deal with Hannibal Lecter on his own terms. The man deserved to reap what he'd so carefully sowed, didn't he? After his release from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, Will doesn't return to work for the FBI.

🦌🦌🦌 if you will come all the way down with me by coloredink | 7k words, M, they left together with abigail, but at what cost??? 

Season 3 divergence

🦌 their beaks not yet turned red by chaparral_crown | M, 130K words, magical realism, baby lecter!! post 1st half of season 3, hannibal went to trial but his conjugal tryst with will brought a stork delivered gift | After Hannibal is arrested and the trial dates are set, the stork visits Will Graham. With it, it brings a baby, a legally binding birth certificate, and a hope chest full of gifts for her. Nobody except Will thinks this is weird.

A Postcard and a Knife by Canis_cosmos | E, 37k words, divergence from season 3 when chiyoh threw will out of the train to the past and met young hannibal 

post S3 / before S1

God and Glasses by purefoysgirl | 1,1k, G, domestic life of married hannigram 

Lean On Me by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles | 2k words | Written for the airport-related AU prompt: "I fell asleep on your shoulder and you were too polite to move or wake me up AU" with a Hannigram twist.

We Killed a Dragon Last Night and  Sounders of Three by  inameitlater | time travel/loop/groundhog day

🦌 Hear My Soul Speak by DarkmoonSigel | 130k words. WIP. Last updated early 2022.  | An AU about how Will might of met Hannibal differently since they both knew Alana. A dinner party gone wrong or terribly right. You decide. Not Beta Read.

🦌 When the Devil Smiles Back byGoldenUsagi | 26k words |  A remix of Silence of the Lambs, where Clarice finds herself occupied not only with catching Buffalo Bill, but with unraveling the mystery of what exactly happened to Will Graham. And Hannibal knows more than he’s letting on about both.

🦌🦌🦌Bigger than a Breadbox by KatherineKrawl | 4k words, E | Every day at work, Will's lunchbox is filled with decadent creations, prompting questions from curious coworkers. Hoping to solve the matter, he asks Hannibal for a 'simple' sandwich, but quickly learns Hannibal doesn't quite grasp the meaning of this. Or does his boyfriend have an ulterior motive for his lavish lunches?

TKO by sidnihoudini | 16k words Molly deals with the aftermath.

The Shape of Me Will Always be You by MissDisoriental | 279k words, 1st person POV, | post-fall, hannibal left will so will could return to his old life

A Discreet Madness by emungere | 4,4k words, M, post-fall | 

A Damn Slippery Life by Magical_Destiny | 2k words, T, post-fall, molly reacts

Something Else by HotMolasses | 2,1k, T, hannigram talking about that gutting scene...  

🦌🦌🦌 Say Cheese! by Devereauxs_Disease | 6k, M, murder husband’s vacations keep appearing in freddie lound’s tattle crime 

Cold Beds and Warm Cannibals by Devereauxs_Disease | E, 4,4k, smut and overcoming distrusts

🦌Fruitful by Everett_Harte An AU remix of 'Hannibal'. Where they both meet several years before the show, start dating, and get married. And bang, a lot.

AUs

🦌 the true kingkiller by ORiley42 | 41k words, M, there’s even a very well made podfic for it!, hannibal is a mummy and will accidentally freed him. consequence: will fell in love with him.

Ethics & Aesthetics by FragileTeacup | 106330 words, a Regency A/B/O romance | pride and prejudice au

🦌🦌🦌 Remember (that you are) to die by  13empress | 230k words, WIP last updated  2017 | ABO au, amnesiac will woke up with 13 years past experience including being a parent, a one half of murder husband, and a wrongly incarcerated FBI agent 

Oddbodies by toffeecape | E, 72k words | Will is an off-brand sentinel. Hannibal is a reputable guide. What could go wrong?

🦌🦌🦌 Overcoming by purefoysgirl | 547k words, E, A/B/O victorian AU, MY VERY FIRST HANNIGRAM FIC! brought me here and now i'm stuck

Howling Outside Your Door by nobetterlove | 14k words | Content to spend his days on the surgery floor, Hannibal is tasked to present emergency room policy to a Cognitive Science class. He's somewhat reticent, but a single whiff of air changes everything. The professor, Will Graham, is an enigma. A dark bruise covers his right eye and the ripe burnt-sugary sweetness is tainted by a tang of suppressants. How much can finding his true mate really change Hannibal? And when it comes to darkness, where does acceptance lie? 14k words

missing scenes

My Husband by VictoriaAGrey | G, 3,5k words, hannigram being sweet married couple

Mise en Place by WrathoftheStag for Devereauxs_Disease | G, 1,8k, outsider POV -one of the kitchen staff in hannibal’s dinner party- 

collections i'm checking out

In Which Loverboy Lecter Prostrates Himself at the Altar of Will Graham 

Fresh Meat Friday

Hannigram Extended Universe

Trope: From Sex To Love (Valhalla Enchanted) by TigerPrawn | 14k words | the omega prince Charmont is in need of an alpha to see him through heat until his betrothed arrives from a distant kingdom. The recently freed slave one-eyed mute is just hideous enough to be the perfect temporary alpha to service the prince.

Forgemaster by Llewcie | 11k words | Charmont, the newest Dionysus, loses a bet to his roommate Aphrodite, and is required by her to go on three dates with a god of her choosing. Before he even gets out the door, he scathingly insults the gentle, mute Hephaestus, and then must scramble to make amends.

Blood on Steel by MonstrousRegiment | Ella Enchanted/Valhalla Rising crossover, series of 24k words work

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

🧚‍♀️ Anon

Okay so I rewatched Nightmare on Elm Street with my Uncle and I was suddenly struck with an idea, so here it is (I’ll get more ideas as I go for the spooky season)

Yandere Dream Demon!Diavolo who’s been tormenting and killing the people who caused his demise, only he’s now targeting Trish who’s trying to understand who he is and why he’s targeting her (Along with strange memories and feelings that she knows him somewhere in her past)

Only to learn from her Mother, Darling, that this Diavolo can’t hurt her because he’s dead, as she killed him to protect her daughter Trish and married Bruno (Darling killed Diavolo when Trish was a baby to protect her)

Diavolo is trying to kill Trish for revenge (As he believes it’s her fault for his death) and plans to take Darling to his realm forever (It’s Trish’s fears that are feeding Diavolo’s powers)

Trish and Bruno have to work together along with the individuals Diavolo’s been tormenting (Leone, Mista, Giorno and Narancia) to save Darling from his twisted Dream Realm

I kinda went crazy with this as it’s loosely based off Nightmare on Elm Street

Ooh cool.

So darling was in a relationship with diavolo as a human and one day she left due how toxic the relationship was and finding out she was pregnant.

After giving birth to Trish she meets Bruno and all seemed well til one night while Bruno is on a business trip. Darling hears someone in the house in the early hours of the morning. So she investigates, grabbing a knife in the process. She hears muttering from Trish's room and find someone hovering over her sleeping daughter. She immediately stabs the individual and is horrorfied to see it's her ex.

He tells her that he's going to make her life hell and kill everyone she ever cared about and she kills him. Shortly after Bruno walks in, having arrived early and wanting to surprise her only to stumble into the scene. He knows about Diavolo and everything he did. They call the police and it's deemed self defence.

From then on darling has constant nightmares about Diavolo and wakes up with bruises and scratches on her body. A shaman approaches her, sensing Diavolo's presence and offers to try and repel him. She does along with Bruno and Trish and everything returns to normal.

However Diavolo is not going to stop. He begins to torment others, rumors spread of a pink haired bogey man who haunts and kills people in their sleep and that fear makes him stronger.

And like he claimed before death, he starts targeting people darling knows. Including a now teen Trish. However she always wakes up before dying due to the ritual.

She opens up to darling and she's horrified, tries reaching out to the shaman again but they're found dead in their bed. Trish asks what's going on and who the man from her dreams is.

Darling sits her down and explains to her that man is her biological father and that he broke into their house with the intent to harm them, she killed him and now his spirit haunts them.

She ends up tell her friends. close childhood friend and classmate Giorno and upperclassmen Mista and Narancia.

Narancia is familiar with the urban legend and is quick to explain everything he knows probably with a silly quip about her relation to the pink haired boogeyman. He doesn't really believe it but is surprising big fan of urban legends and the supernatural.

Of course Narancia is not cool with the situation after he's been visited, flashing off a grizzly cut across his arm. Slowly everyone else starts having nightmares and now Diavolo is able to breakthrough.

One morning darling doesn't wake up and is taken to the hospital. The doctors are confused by her condition as her brain activity is extremely active.

Bruno immediately leaves the hospital with Trish who's confused as to why he's leaving. When they get home he reveals a large scar along his chest, Diavolo visited him that night and told him that he intended to take darling away and that is proof that he has.

Bruno reveals that he met someone who offered a way to rid them of Diavolo for good but it would involve going into the dream world, Where Diavolo has an advantage.

That's when his friend Leone arrives, covered in scars from previous nightmares. She questions why he's alive if Diavolo kills people in their sleep. It's assumed he keeps people around them to suffer to instil more fear.

Bruno and Leone intend to go through with the ritual alone but knowing this Diavolo draws in Trish and friends too.