Title: The Omen
By: Modern Physics
Pairing: JJ/Reid
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The BAU team investigates murders in Salem, MASS near Halloween. What happens when the unsub decides to take on two of the BAU's own?

***

Orange light bathed the deserted town block in an eerie glow as rain pounded on the many rooftops. The wind was picking up and trees shook and groaned sounding as if they ached all over. It was a dreary late October night in Salem, Massachusetts.

Three blocks away, a candle was lit in a quaint church. The only occupants were an old lady with a kind face and the pastor, out back waiting for sinners that did not arrive.

'I don't blame them with the weather being bad and all, Father,' said the lady in a quiet voice. 'If I didn't live two doors down I wouldn't be here either.' She shuffled along and lit another votive candle all the while mumbling prayers beneath her breath. The pastor looked down his long crooked nose at the gold-tone watch he wore upon his left wrist. 'I'll wait another twenty minutes and see if anyone bothers showing up. After that I'll call it a night.' The lady nodded as she made her way around the table filled with miniature candles in a variety of colours.

Five minutes later the great oak doors opened and a hooded figure slunk in, drenched with rain, removing bits of branches from its sleeves. A pair of black beady eyes peered around the church, taking in the decor, sinking it all in. Meanwhile the lady had turned around at the sound of the doors opening, the sound of a storm being briefly let in.

'Hello, dear... come on in, that's it. Horrible night out there isn't it?' The lady motioned for the figure to come up to the front, although it hesitated for a moment before ultimately deciding to come forward. In the glow of the lit candles the lady's face softened with recognition. 'Do sit down Annabelle. Are you okay? You look a bit shaken.'

'I'm... I'm fine.' A mousey woman lowered her hood and tucked her dirty-blonde hair behind her ears nervously, her cheeks adorned with scratches and flecks of blood. The older lady wasn't convinced and headed out back to get the pastor. Annabelle was in her early thirties but looked as if she was about fifty. Purple circles hung low underneath her wide eyes and she had a protruding jaw. There was nothing remotely attractive about this woman. She was lanky and oddly proportioned and her ears stuck out beneath her straw-like hair. She drew quick breaths and closed her eyes, praying silently to the floor.

'Child, child... what's the matter?' The pastor had come out of his office in the back, the older lady in tow. 'Mrs. O'Neil said you need... assistance?' Annabelle shook her head, wet, greasy hair falling out of place as she did so. The pastor looked nervously around the church and bit his thin upper lip. 'Alright then. Come with me... its okay, come on up... we'll talk out back... no one else is here... up you go...' The pastor struggled to get Annabelle to leave her position in the front row of pews but eventually succeeded. He shot a pleading look back at Mrs. O'Neil before ushering Annabelle into his office. Once she was seated he quietly closed the door and sat opposite her across his desk.

'Now... what's the matter Anna? What is it this time?' His fingers were lined up perfectly together, hands connected at the fingertips. Annabelle surveyed the room, taking in everything all at once. Crosses, inspirational proverbs, mass cards, paintings... her eyes darted every which way and at this the pastor had to interrupt. 'Excuse me... Anna? What's wrong?' She suddenly came back to her senses, her eyes getting even wider than before. 'I've been bad. I've sinned Father. I've been so bad.' Her voice was slow and faint as she avoided the pastor's gaze. 'What do you mean you've been bad? What did you do Anna?' She started fiddling with her hands muttering a mantra over and over again underneath her breath. She was not answering and the pastor was getting annoyed although he tried not to show it. 'God forgives even the worst sinners. Come clean and be forgiven.' At this Annabelle looked up, her eyes seemed to be glowing the same orange that bathed a corner of town three blocks away. 'I did it. Its over. But I've been bad... I know I shouldn't have... I've been so bad... but it's finally over. He's gone.' The pastor turned white and looked frightened.

'Who's gone?' His voice shook as he spoke. 'You know him. You'll be glad too, Father. It was for the greater good. One step at a time and there will be peace.'

Annabelle reclined in her chair, a grin forming on her taut face. 'There will be peace,' she repeated.

'Anna, who is gone? Please tell me. You'll be forgiven.' The pastor was looking worse by the minute. He was obviously terrified.

'I know I'll be forgiven, Father. I did his bidding. He will be glad and I will be honoured. But it's not over yet.'

The pastor looked confused and sick all at once. He never knew Annabelle to be like this in the ten years he had known her. He listened on intently.

'Lucifer is dead. I found him and killed him. Now there's no gatekeeper to hell. We can't get in even if we tried.'

Annabelle laughed manically, her voice getting louder with every sentence she spoke.

'He is dead. He is dead, dead, dead. And I did it. Oh I will be honoured so well, so well indeed.'

She raised her bony fingertips to her mouth, licking them. It was then the pastor noticed a red residue on them. At this, his stomach turned even more ferociously.

'But,' said Annabelle as she got out of her chair slowly, 'There can't be good without bad, can there Father?' The pastor started to tremble in his chair. 'It's just not fair. No, not at all. He knows it isn't. And that is why it must be done.' 'What must be done? Anna? What must be done? ANNA?' The pastor was shouting now, clearly afraid or what was about to happen. 'He told me....,' she trailed off, her hand reaching into her pocket, 'that it must be done. Cancel out both sides and we will find peace.' Before another word could be spoken the pastor fell to the floor, eyes wide in terror. But those eyes didn't see anymore. And before the great oak doors opened once again, Mrs. O'Neil fell onto the altar, holding a candle in her hand... forced to look out into the storm for eternity.

"What's that smell? It's making me sick." Emily Prentiss strolled out of the BAU's break room only to find Dr. Reid and Agent Jareau carving a pumpkin.

'Oh for the love of God, are you two 12?' She walked over to Reid's desk, newspapers carefully laid out on the surface to protect it from pumpkin guts. JJ reached inside and took out a big glob of innards and seeds. 'It's almost Halloween! We're being festive.' JJ smirked and threw the orange goop into a trash can. 'I can see that...' Prentiss trailed off as she examined the monitor on Reid's desk. A page titled 'How to carve the best pumpkin with just an ordinary butter knife' was pulled up, with detailed instructions. 'Wait, where did you GET this anyway?' She looked at Reid questioningly; his glasses pushed in as close to his face as possible looking like goggles or something. 'The pumpkin? It was by Hotch's desk.' Emily's jaw dropped. 'Don't tell me that's the pumpkin you're so lovingly ripping the guts out of.' JJ picked up a plastic spoon and began gorging out the inside. 'Yep, sure is.' Emily spun around, eyes wide in terror. 'That was for Hotch's son! You know, he is a kid and all and you guys are FBI agents.' Reid and JJ looked at each other fully aware that their mere existence was in limbo. Nothing came between Hotch and his family, not even a jack o' lantern.

Before anyone could do anything Morgan strolled into the room wearing a smile that was instantly erased when he saw the pumpkin. 'Is that what I think it is?' he asked, pointing to it. 'Yes.' Emily was giggling now, realizing how foolish this whole scenario was. Reid and JJ, however, were quite terrified, and with good reason. Reid was young and never really taken seriously. JJ was still quite new, young, and trying to prove that she was a capable agent. The last thing they needed was Hotch becoming upset with them.

'Uhoh, there he comes. What are you guys gonna do?' Morgan looked at the mess.

Reid shut his eyes involuntarily and scrunched up his face as if expecting a blow to the back of his head.

'That's mine, isn't it.' It was spoken as a statement, not a question. JJ nodded, avoiding Hotch's gaze. After a few tense moments the entire team broke into a chorus of giggles, including the culprits. 'It's alright, just... clean the mess up, will you? It smells horrible. And you two owe me a new pumpkin.' JJ breathed a sigh of relief as she and Reid finished off the pumpkin and cleaned up.

'However, there are more pressing matters than a vandalized vegetable,' Hotch said as he pinned several pictures to the wall in the meeting area. 'We just got a call from police in Salem. There was a double homicide in a church there last night, the 57 year old pastor and a 65 year old woman were found strangled to death early this morning by the groundskeeper who came to check up on the property after a storm last night.'

'And this concerns us why?' asked Emily, her voice sounding dull.

'You gotta wait for the punch line Prentiss. There's always one.' Morgan snickered and rested his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair.

'Well, in addition to the two bodies found at the church, a man was also found on a deserted cobblestone street.'

'Let me guess, there's a connection...' pressed JJ.

'Well, the police didn't know. That's why we were called. The man was identified as Jeremy Hickam. The police pulled up his rap sheet and asked around... discovered he was a ring leader in this satanic cult called "The Omen".'

'So the connection is... religious or something?' Emily twirled a pen in her fingers.

'That's what the police figured. But get this... a note was found in Hickam's breast pocket that wasn't consistent with his handwriting and was covered in his own blood.'

Hotch pulled up a picture of the note. It read: 'I am the gatekeeper to Hell. Abandon all hope no more. I am gone, gone for good. Eternal peace is on its way.'

'The unsub did a poor job of making it look like a suicide note,' said Reid. 'Unless the victim wasn't in his right state of mind and wrote this... but then again, the handwriting's not consistent...'

'Garcia analyzed it. It was definitely not a match.'

'So then the unsub just wanted to let us know what this guy was. The "gatekeeper to Hell". Wouldn't that make sense?' Morgan interjected.

'I don't know. That's why we're going to find out.' Hotch collected the pictures back in and put them in their separate manila folders.

'We're actually going to Salem?' Reid asked excitedly. 'So close to Halloween?'

'Looks that way. Don't get too excited Reid, you might hurt yourself,' Morgan quipped as he patted Reid's back and walked away. 'Oh, I'm excited but... all the tourists might make it difficult to get things done.' 'Exactly,' said Hotch. 'It's our job to determine if this was just a prank gone too far or if it's the real deal.'

***

'Oooh, Salem! Witchcraft... voodoo... if you're just going there to buy a love potion don't waste your time... you already know I'm eternally yours,' Garcia spoke slyly into her headset, fingers moving rapidly across a gigantic keyboard, eyes fixed upon multiple screens. On the opposite end of the line Morgan could be heard laughing.

'Oh I know baby doll, I know. Could you send us anything you've got on Jeremy Hickam and the two other vics? We need to establish what we're dealing with here.' He shifted several different folders around in his arms while cradling a cell phone between his ear and his shoulder.

'Just say the word, honey,' Garcia replied happily before hanging up. Morgan turned back around to face his colleagues.

'She's sending us over the information. We'll see what we can go on from there.'

Hotch looked around the crowded aircraft at his team. Emily was doing a crossword, JJ and Reid were playing an intense game of Go Fish, and Morgan was texting someone on his phone. They were so at ease, he thought, trying hard not to think of what was in store for them all in Salem.

Five agents skipped up the steps into the local police headquarters one by one at about three P.M looking frantic and fascinated all at once. The information Garcia was supposed to send still hadn't reached them yet and they didn't really have much to tell local authorities. 'Don't worry,' Morgan said to a worried Emily. 'Hotch can think on his feet. Besides, it's not our fault we didn't get the background information. The Sheriff can brief us here if necessary.'

Inside the station was decked out in Halloween decorations, most of the décor relating to witches; it was to be assumed were bought from a local craft store the team saw on their way over. Reid had run around the place hurriedly looking from witch to pumpkin, his face lit up like an eight year old on Christmas morning.

'You must be from Quantico then?'

A burly man of about sixty clambered out of a small, dingy office. He had a slight limp and mopped his forehead with a ratty handkerchief although it wasn't even remotely warm inside. Emily surveyed him out of the corner of her eye, apparently not liking what she saw.

'Yes, I believe you spoke on the phone with Agent Jareau?' Hotch directed his gaze over to JJ who extended a hand to the apparent sheriff. 'Yes, I believe I did. Fine looking ma'am you are too.' At that JJ pulled her hand away reluctantly and wiped it on her jeans casually.

'Anyway, I'm Sheriff Benson as you probably already know,' said the man, pointing to a black nametag stuck on his hefty torso. 'I can tell you anything you need to know about the crime scenes, the victims... you know, that stuff.' Benson gave the impression that he lost his passion for this job but Hotch reminded himself that he had seen a lot worse in his day. Morgan explained to Deputy Harris that all their information hadn't arrived yet and they'd need to set up a room to go over evidence and rap sheets. Within fifteen minutes the team was crammed into a small office that looked as if it hadn't seen the light of day in years.

'Some towns just don't evolve, do they?' Said Emily, examining the old wallpaper that seemed to be peeling off the walls. 'Salem didn't need to,' remarked Morgan. 'Everyone loves the old history. Why conform?' 'It might be a little more sanitary,' mumbled Reid, shoving his hands in the pockets of his cardigan to avoid touching anything in the room.

'First victim: Father Harold Beaton, age 57. COD: Strangulation. Ligature marks were found around the neck and by the look of them, he didn't go down without a fight. Second victim: Cassie O'Neil, age 65. Also died of strangulation, however, there weren't as many ligature marks as Beaton... maybe because she was older and didn't resist.' Hotch spoke aloud and quickly as he paced the room, medical examiner's reports held close to his chest.

'And these two were found in the church, correct?' asked JJ, writing down notes on a clipboard. 'Yes,' answered Hotch before moving onto the last victim. 'Finally we have Jeremy Hickam, age 36. COD...,' 'Let me guess, strangulation?' quipped Morgan. 'Yes, all three victims were strangled to death. And recording to the ME reports they were done in a similar manner.'

'So they're believed to be related?' Reid questioned, tapping a light blue pencil adorned with stars on the antique desk he occupied. 'Well it's pretty much confirmed that they're related,' snapped Emily, yanking a paper out of Hotch's hand much to his dismay. 'According to the report the vics were attacked from the front, not from behind like most attacks. That's extremely hard to do. This is probably this unsub's signature or something.' Morgan scratched his head and looked deep in thought as JJ scribbled down the last bit of information.

'So we're looking at an unsub that's just killed three people within a twenty-four hour period.' Hotch's voice was clear and concise. 'We have to catch him before he kills again.'

'But what makes you think he will? Didn't the note say that the gatekeeper to Hell or whatever was gone? Maybe the unsub got what he wanted and stopped,' Reid interjected.

'That's quite possible,' replied Morgan, looking tense, 'But it's better to be safe than sorry. Some of these people are paranoid and go around looking for people to get rid of. We won't know until we catch him.'

'Well in that case I want you all doing your best to track this unsub down. Prentiss, Morgan, I want you two to go to the O'Neil and the Hickam residence. See if you can find anything suspicious. Especially at Hickam's... any religious paraphernalia or anything suggesting that he considered himself the "Gatekeeper to Hell." JJ, Reid, I want you two questioning the people living in the apartments on the street where Hickam was found. Let's hope we can catch this guy early.'

And with that Hotch left the dingy room to find Benson and the rest of the team to get to their jobs.

The air was cool and dank; the smell of old books in leather bindings filled the air. Pale light filtered in from a lone window on the left side of the room where a lanky woman raided the highest shelves for something. The room was an old library. Swearing loudly the woman threw book after book down from her perch on an old wooden ladder. Her stringy hair hung in greasy curtains around her face; she looked as if she hadn't bathed in days. Dirt clung underneath her ragged nails as she scoured through pages of old texts, muttering underneath her breath. The room looked as if it was hardly ever used or visited, save for a small reception desk at the front. The main door to an outer hallway was shut, giving the impression that this woman had broken in through the window.

Suddenly a low creak issued from the door near the front. Upon hearing the grinding of the old wooden ladder across the linoleum a shrill voice called out from the hallway.

'Hello? Is anyone in there? Eloise, is that you? I told you not to bother cleaning up this afternoon. You can clean up tonight when you usually clean the rest of the building.' When there was no reply, the voice grew louder. 'Hello? Is anyone here? The library is closed today.' A small woman walked into the room and flicked on the light switch. From her perspective nothing looked out of place. Her desk was as neat as it was the day before and tables and chairs were still in their designated spots. The woman sighed as she laid her purse onto the desk. Starting to begin that the noises she had heard were just in her head, she picked up her phone and began to dial a number. Before she hit send however, a loud scraping noise echoed through the room.

'Just because it's almost Halloween it doesn't give you an excuse to try to frighten an old lady. If you don't leave right now I'll call the police.' The woman slammed her phone down onto her desk defiantly. She waited a few moments before speaking again. 'That's it. Show yourself!' She marched down the aisles, one by one, and noticed that the ladder was missing. She made her way through four more aisles before resting her eyes on the silhouette of a person perched on top of the ladder clutching a pile of books in her scrawny arms.

'W...w...what do you want?' asked the woman on the floor. 'The library is closed on Fridays you know.' The figure on the ladder did not answer immediately, which spooked the woman. Finally, a voice came out clear and low. 'Do you have anything about... peace?' The figure on the ladder turned so she was looking down at the woman on the floor, her wide eyes boring into everything they came in contact with. 'Like, world peace?' asked the timid woman from below. 'Yes,' hissed the woman on the ladder. 'Yes. How to achieve it. How to maintain it. Oh, but I've been bad... we all need peace.' The lady on the floor looked up the ladder and shivered. Something about this woman gave her chills but she was determined to help her and then get the hell out of the library.

'The only book we have is the one you're holding, I do believe. It speaks about different ideas of peace...'

'It doesn't TELL you how to make peace. It tells you of what it'd be LIKE if there was peace. I want to achieve it. I need to.' The woman clutched the book close to her chest before suddenly throwing it out of her arms letting it join the other books in a heap on the floor. 'And you can't help me. No one can. He's stopped talking to me... he tells me he's angry, I didn't need to kill her. O'Neil didn't have to die. But Beaton did. Oh that bastard had to die. He was in the way of peace! But now.... Now he tells me there are more obstacles. More than he imagined. And what about these obstacles? I don't know. I can't read about them and no one knows about them. You don't know about them... oh what can I do...' the voice was becoming less clear and quieter as it went on.

The woman, who was clearly a librarian now, began to back up towards the front of the room in terror.

'Oh you can't help me... what a shame, what a shame... you'll be just a casualty in this peace war now won't you?'

And before the librarian had a chance to run or think, the woman leapt off the ladder and wrapped a silver cord around her neck. The phone number on a cell phone resting on a desk was never dialled.

'Ooooh, spooky!' JJ picked up an old book off of a shelf in a Wicca store. Reid following close behind looked over her shoulder.

'Spells and incantations... this reminds me of Harry Potter,' chuckled JJ as she put the book back on its shelf. 'Actually it's nothing like Harry Potter at all,' said Reid in his usual matter-of-fact tone, picking up some candles in various sizes and examining them.

'Of course its not, genius... I'm just saying it reminds me of it,' snapped JJ, a playful grin on her face. 'You know, expelliarmus, wingardium leviosa, voodoo...' 'Okay, there is no voodoo in Harry Potter,' snorted Reid, glad that he could outwit JJ yet again.

'Oh no, that's right,' she replied slyly. 'That's the imperius curse. Oops, I got them mixed up. My bad.' With that she smiled coyly and walked over to the other side of the room. Reid looked astonished and pleased as he picked up a copy of 'Easy Love Potions.'

'Wow, this place is old.' Morgan walked through the Hickam residence as cautiously as he could, Emily right behind him. 'This estate ran through this family for generations. Of course it's old,' she remarked, looking at old black and white photographs scattered across the fireplace mantle. Although he was the leader of a supposed satanic cult and had a rap sheet, Jeremy Hickam was described as a pleasant and friendly man by his neighbours, who also stated that he never had any unusual company and usually kept to himself.

'Hickam lived alone since his wife Cheryl died in 2003.' 'How'd she die?' asked Morgan questioningly. 'Brain aneurism. He didn't kill her Derek.' 'Okay, just checking. You never know with some of the people we deal with' Emily punched him in the arm playfully. 'Well there's nothing suspicious here, maybe we should move onto Beaton's place?' Emily looked around the place nervously as she spoke; something about the house gave her the creeps.

'No, not yet. Come here.'

Morgan pointed to a wooden trap door that apparently leads into a basement. 'I think we should check this out before moving on. You never know what people keep hidden in their basements.'

Before the door could be opened, Emily's phone went off. She looked at the display and upon seeing Hotch's name flash by, picked it up hurriedly.

Five seconds later she jammed the phone back into her pocket.

'What was that about?' Morgan straightened up and looked at her.

'There's been another killing, in the library down the street.'

***

Yellow tape cordoned off the door leading into the library. It was located in an older building that housed several small offices, one belonging to a doctor and the other belonging to an optometrist. The body of Mabel Whitman was sprawled out on the floor beside an old wooden ladder.

'Damn,' sighed Morgan as he took note of the red ligature marks on the victim's neck. 'That lunatic struck again. Four murders within twenty-four hours? This is turning out to be a massacre.' He pulled a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket and put them on, crouching down to get a look at the body. Mabel was only 56 years old and lived with her husband of thirty years in a small house about four blocks away. She did not deserve to die like this, he thought.

Hotch strolled into the library casually, lifting up the tape as he did so.

'Did you find anything at the Hickam residence? He asked coldly. 'No,' piped up Emily who was near the desk at the front looking through old records. 'Well we didn't have time to look in the basement because that's when you called us,' said Morgan anxiously. 'I guess we should've, right?' Hotch was visibly upset. 'You know that's what you're supposed to do. You check the entire house before leaving. Who knows, it may not be secure anymore.' He walked briskly away from them, head in his hands.

'It's all my fault,' Emily whispered to Morgan as she crouched beside him. 'I should've stayed.' Morgan met her gaze. 'No, it's not your fault. Don't worry about it. We'll just go back in a minute...' 'No you won't,' said Hotch, showing up a few feet away from them. 'I need you here Morgan. You specialize in obsession; I need you to bounce all your ideas off me.' At this Morgan looked down; he hated letting people down.

'Prentiss, I need you to question Mr. Whitman; see if he knew anyone that would want to hurt his wife.' Emily nodded and stood up, brushing herself off.

Reid was perched on top of the ladder reading some books that he had found on the floor. 'Pieces of Peace,' he muttered to himself under his breath as he turned the pages rapidly. 'Think that could tell us something?' shouted Morgan, who was now looking through the different titles below. 'Maybe,' said Reid, his voice distant because he was trying to concentrate. 'I mean, this does tie in with the note found on Hickam, right? Something about peace...'

'Good observation, Reid. I want you to read everything in that book and see what you come up with.' Hotch was running around the library giving his team orders. Everyone knew that's what he did when he was upset... and of course he had good reason to be, another innocent person was murdered on his watch.

'JJ I'd like you to go back to Jeremy Hickam's house and check out the basement. There could be something we missed there.' Hotch looked at her pleadingly as she got off her phone with the press and she looked at him with worry etched on her face. 'Look, I'd go if I could but Benson is on his way over with some stuff he thinks I should see. You're more than capable of doing this now.' This speech did little to reassure JJ. After a few silent moments a loud sigh escaped his mouth. 'Fine, why don't you take Reid with you? I'll skim over the book while I'm waiting for the police.' And with that he snatched the book out of Reid's hands and escorted the two out the door.

'Your car or mine?' asked JJ automatically as they stepped into the bright autumn sun.

'JJ we don't have cars. We're in Salem and Hotch has the only SUV,' said Reid in an amused tone.

JJ laughed at herself loudly than she had intended. 'My bad. Oh well, we're only a few blocks away... we can walk I'm sure.'

'Only if we can walk through the graveyard.'

'The what?'

'The graveyard! You know, witches are supposed to be buried there and stuff. It'd be extremely fascinating to read some inscriptions on the headstones and stuff,' Reid said animatedly.

'You are,' said JJ trying to suppress a laugh, 'insane.' Reid shrugged as they passed through the gates leading into the cemetery.

After a few minutes of wandering through gravesites and joking around with each other about what their own headstones would say (JJ firmly believed Reid's would have some lame statistic about death on it), they decided they should hurry up and get to the Hickam house before dusk.

The key clicked in place loudly as JJ pushed the door open, revealing an old oak spiral staircase leading onto the upper level. It looked exactly the same as it had when Morgan and Emily were there hours before. Knowing what they had to do, Reid and JJ walked over to the square door that was fashioned on the hardwood floor and lifted it upwards.

'Ladies first,' said Reid nonchalantly, obvious that he didn't want to go down there first. Ever since he was tortured by Tobias Henkel he had a severe fear of basements and cellars. 'No, after you... I insist,' said JJ smugly. 'Uhhh...,' Reid stammered, not expecting that response. 'Fine then, you just hold the door and make sure it doesn't shut.' But before they knew it, Reid lost his footing and tumbled down the few steps onto the cold concrete floor, JJ falling on top of him with a loud thud.

It was a few moments before they realized what had happened and in a mad dash to regain their composure and free themselves of each other, JJ managed to slip again, this time on what appeared to be jam from a jar that had smashed when they fell.

Once they were stable again they looked around the cellar. It was full of old manuscripts to books that Hickam was apparently working on. Reid picked up some papers nearest him and began reading aloud. 'Lucy sat on the riverbank, flecks of gold alight in her hair. The wind was warm and held her there, frozen in time.'

'This isn't the time for poetry,' JJ remarked.

'No, it's apparently a short story Hickam was working on. This definitely doesn't point to anything satanic,' said Reid letting a small chuckle escape. 'Our unsub was seriously mistaken.'

'If so,' said JJ more seriously, 'then he's not just interested in particular victims. He believes whatever he wants to believe and then... well, he'll probably go after anyone.'

At that, Reid's face sunk. He still clutched the manuscript in his hands.

JJ bit her lip in concentration. 'Well, it is a possibility. We'll take this back to Hotch, see what he makes of it anyway.'

An hour later their search of the basement didn't turn up anything else interesting. They found a shelf full of what appeared to be homemade strawberry jam and a collection of old records, some of which Reid recalled owning at one point. JJ picked up the manuscript and they left the dingy basement.

Back at the hotel everyone reviewed what they had discovered that afternoon. Morgan, Hotch, and Prentiss developed a partial profile from what they gathered at the library and compared it to the other crime scenes. Garcia, who was called out by Hotch later in the afternoon, was setting up her laptop and biting the tip of a pink pen.

'This unsub is a white male between 20 and 45. The fact that he's targeting older, supposedly frailer people suggests that he's cowardly. And judging by the note we found earlier he's probably suffering from a form of psychosis,' said Morgan pacing in front of the team.

'Baby boy, I was away most of the day and I could've told you as much. Is that really all you've got?' said Garcia looking up over her monitor.

Morgan rubbed his eyes instinctively. 'I've got nothing else. We don't know much yet. They seem like a bunch of random killings but we know they're tied together... just... we don't know how yet.'

At this, JJ produced the manuscript she had taken from the Hickam house. The team examined what appeared to be the first few pages of a short story about a woman named Lucy.

'What is this?' said Emily in a confused tone. 'It doesn't look like Hickam was evil or cruel by nature judging by this story. What did you find at the house? Anything to suggest he was into satanic stuff?'

Reid shifted in his chair. 'Well, no actually. That's what's odd. JJ and I thought of something though... if this unsub only thought that Hickam worshipped the devil or whatever and still killed him... he doesn't have his facts right and could kill anyone at any time for any reason.'

At this the team collectively shuddered. 'This is a whole lot worse than I had anticipated,' mumbled Hotch, a look of sheer exhaustion and desperation plastered on his face.

Morgan and Emily were also showing signs of exhaustion so without further discussion the team dispersed and went to their own rooms planning to be up for 7 AM. However, JJ wasn't tired and she felt guilty. The rest of her colleagues looked like they had a rough day while she was out seeing the town and digging around in some guy's basement. All the guilty feelings faded away however when she noticed that her partner in crime also seemed oddly awake. And with that they tried to forget about their looming case as they headed to the hotel restaurant to grab a coffee.

Reid rambled on about the history of Salem and how he'd always dreamed of going there as a kid.

'Reid, boy genius aspires to be a Ghost Buster,' snorted JJ into her festive orange and black mug. She was being a bit too flirty but it was late and she didn't care. It was only Reid.

'No, not a Ghost Buster. That would be impossible. You couldn't suck spirits into a vacuum cleaner like that. Completely illogical.' Reid was speaking faster and faster as the caffeine dispersed through his blood stream.

'Shut up! Why can't you just watch a movie like a normal person instead of overanalyzing everything,' laughed JJ, playfully punching him in the arm. After a few more minutes of reminiscing about their childhoods, the two said goodnight and headed for their rooms at 12:30 A.M, reminding each other to set their alarm clocks for 7.

JJ had just settled down in her room when a loud knock came from the door. She scrambled to throw on an old grey sweater that was lying on a chair at the end of her bed.

Looking through the peephole she realized it was Morgan and quietly opened the door.

'Hey,' she said, her voice laced with tiredness. 'What's up?' Morgan looked as if he had just woken up seeing as how his eyes could barely stay open. 'Do you know where Reid went?'

'What do you mean?' asked JJ worriedly. 'He went back to his room...'

'Our room,' Morgan interrupted. 'Cutbacks and stuff. Yeah, we're sharing a room. No, he came back but then left again, muttering something about losing his wallet...' Morgan began yawning involuntarily.

'Well he's probably down at the restaurant checking,' said JJ looking a little annoyed. 'We just came back.' And with that Morgan headed downstairs to look for Reid, stumbling a little on the way.

JJ had tried to fall asleep but to no avail. Fifteen minutes had passed since Morgan showed up at her door asking about Reid's whereabouts. She looked anxious as she pulled the blankets up to her neck and snuggled into the cool cotton. She had just closed her eyes when another loud knock had erupted from the hallway. Once again she quickly jumped up and ran for the door. This time however, it was Reid looking flustered and frantic.

'JJ, my wallet! What did I do with it?' he spluttered. 'I can't find it anywhere... my SIN number, my credit card, my licence...' He was getting louder as he continued reciting his long list which ended with '2007-2008 ComicCon passes'.

'It's alright,' JJ mumbled, stepping out into the hallway as she rubbed her eyes. 'Just retrace your steps. Where were you today?'

A look of concentration etched itself onto Reid's features. He stood there for a moment deep in thought before all color drained from his face. 'Hickam's. I was in Hickam's basement.'

It was another few minutes before Morgan, Reid, and JJ piled into Hotch's rental SUV at 1:30 AM. They were headed to the Hickam house to look for Reid's missing wallet.

'Of all the stupid things you do,' said Morgan, irritated but amused, 'you have to lose your wallet in a victim's house.' It was dark in the vehicle but Reid's face glowed bright red. 'I'm so sorry guys, I'm so sorry...'

'And the worst part,' Morgan continued, 'is that I have to drive you because you lost your license! You owe me big Reid.' JJ laughed involuntarily at this. "Hey, by the way... why did you come anyway?' asked Morgan somehow forgetting she was there.

'I was in the basement with him. I could help him look,' she muttered, feeling guilty.

'Alright then,' said Morgan as he pulled up to the house, 'I'll wait here. Maybe catch a few z's while you guys are searching the house. Who knows. Hurry up though.' He unlocked the doors and JJ and Reid jumped out of the SUV.

With the help of a penlight JJ mysteriously found in her sweater pocket, the key slid right into the lock opening with a tiny creak. She was careful to shut it quietly behind her, not being able to think of any logical reason why because no one was living here anymore.

'Hey Reid,' she whispered, seeing his frame fade before her in the pitch black of the entranceway, 'wait up.'

As they reached the spot on the floor where they thought the trapdoor was located JJ thought she heard a creaking noise upstairs. Deciding not to tell Reid because it would probably freak him out, she kept it to herself and tried to get in and out of that house as quickly as possible.

Using the penlight to navigate their way into the basement, Reid and JJ finally flicked a light switch on when they came across it. The entire basement was bathed in a sickly glow, illuminating odd glass figurines and old jars on every shelf. This place was a lot creepier at night, thought JJ to herself as she scoured the floor for Reid's wallet.

'Ahah!' Reid shouted as he pulled a brown leather rectangle off of a shelf located at the back of the room, 'I found it. I knew it had to be somewhere in here.' JJ smiled and zipped up her sweater, feeling colder all of a sudden. 'Good. Now let's get out of here before Hotch realizes we kidnapped his SUV.' Reid was just about to respond to her when all of a sudden they heard the trap door above them slam shut. A look of panic spread across their faces.

'What was that?' exclaimed Reid nervously. 'Think that was Morgan playing a trick?'

'Well we'll know in a minute,' said JJ as she lifted herself up onto an old wooden desk that was located underneath a ground level window. She saw the vehicle parked on the side of the road, Morgan fast asleep in the driver's seat. 'It definitely wasn't Morgan,' she said grimly. 'He's still out there.' A look of sheer terror crossed Reid's face. They could hear scratching coming from the other side of the trapdoor which was soon joined by inaudible mumbling noises. JJ made a move to get closer to the noise before Reid reached out and grabbed her, pulling her backwards and closer to him.

'No,' he whispered. 'Don't. Just... don't.'

'Don't what?' she whispered back. 'I'm a big girl, what are they going to do? Reach down and grab me? I just want to listen.' She tried to push herself away but he just held on tighter. He was remembering his experiences being kidnapped by Tobias Henkel the previous year and couldn't risk the same thing happening to JJ or himself.

Suddenly the door swung downward, followed by a long, boney hand and a mane of greasy hair, and finally a mousey face.

'You'll help me,' the woman spoke slow and calmly.

'Help you... help you with what?' said Reid in a terrified tone of voice.

'YOU KNOW!' the woman yelled, her eyes alight with rage. 'And don't pretend you don't. I need you and if you won't help me then I'll just have to,' she breathed, 'kill you.'

The door slammed shut again, breaking the light bulb into a million pieces as it did.

***

The sun was rising over the small one storey houses slowly but surely, kissing rooftops as it did. The glare caused Morgan to shift uncomfortably in the driver's seat of Hotch's SUV. Suddenly, as if pricked with a needle, he sat bolt upright, eyes darting every which way. He turned the key in the ignition to check the time: 6:30 AM. He only had half an hour to get back to the hotel the rest of the BAU was staying at. Not thinking about where he was or what he was doing there, he put the SUV in drive and sped towards the hotel.

Luckily he arrived there before anyone had noticed he kidnapped Hotch's truck. But then that got him thinking... why exactly did he do that in the first place? The answer wasn't coming to him. Confused, he shook it off as waking up late at night craving a cheeseburger. He walked into the conference room at 7 o'clock with a big mug of coffee in his hands.

'You look horrible,' remarked Emily, noting the dark circles under his eyes.

'I think he looks fine,' purred Garcia in her usual flirtatious manner.

'Yeah, I didn't sleep well last night,' he shrugged while taking a sip from the mug. 'And I've got an awful kink in my neck.'

Hotch stormed into the room a few minutes later with a worried look on his face. Apparently it also just dawned on the others that Reid and JJ weren't there.

'Does anyone know where Reid is?' Hotch asked quickly and quietly. 'And JJ, for that matter,' he added.

'You're sure they just didn't sleep in?' asked Emily, trying to sound optimistic.

'No, both of their doors were left open a little. I looked in and neither of them were there.'

Morgan's eyes suddenly grew wide. He remembered driving Reid to the Hickam house to look for his wallet. He remembered JJ coming along with them. And finally, he remembered falling asleep in the SUV outside of the house and waking up this morning at 6:30.

'Oh my God,' Morgan gasped. 'I know where they are.'

After explaining to the rest of the team what had happened the previous night, they all set off to the Hickam residence. It was agreed unanimously that Morgan shouldn't be left in charge with this again. Emily walked up the stone pathway to the front door of Hickam's house and knocked three times.

'Reid, JJ... you there?' she called out.

After a few moments of silence Hotch pulled out the key from his coat pocket and opened the door. Before anyone even walked over the threshold they held their breath. The house was a disaster. Curtains were torn off the windows, chairs and tables overturned, cupboards wide open, glasses smashed on the floor. All of a sudden everyone grew terribly worried. They called out Reid and JJ's names in unison, but no one answered from within the house.

'Morgan, you and Garcia go upstairs. Emily and I will check in the basement.'

With a disappointed look at Morgan, Hotch turned around and headed towards the wooden trap door located on the floor and went down. The basement, it seemed, was in no better condition than the rest of the house. Emily gasped at what she saw on the floor: a pool of what was apparently blood and a note written on a large piece of parchment, evidently one of the many pieces that lined the desks down here. It read: 'No one has to get hurt. Just tell me how.'

Hotch looked even more upset than before. This wasn't the first time someone on his team was held hostage. Himself and Reid, Elle, Reid... Reid again. Poor Reid, he thought. He was so young but had already had his fair share of bad situations while working with the BAU. And JJ, he thought, was fairly new to this whole thing. Could she pull through? Of course she could, he told himself instinctively. We wouldn't have hired her if we didn't think she could... but then a wave of guilt passed over him. We hired these people because we knew that they'd end up in situations like this at one point or another.

'What do we do now?' asked Emily, obvious tears forming in her eyes. She was fixated on the pool of blood on the floor in front of them, trying hard to believe it wasn't spilt from one of her colleague's veins.

'We're going to try to find the person that did this,' replied Hotch, 'before they can do any more harm to Reid and JJ.'

It was cold and dark. Mostly dark though, JJ thought as she propped herself up against what seemed to be a wall. The room she was in smelled musty and dirty as if no one had been in it for years. She didn't know where she was, how she got there, or where she was before hand. All she knew was that she felt oddly light headed and it didn't bother her in the least.

Suddenly, she heard something move a few feet away from her. She immediately stopped moving and tried to make out other sounds. There it was again; the same noise, as if someone else here was propping themselves up against the same wall as her. Quietly she reached for the gun attached to her hip. However, it was gone. Feeling weak and defenceless but bold nonetheless, she spoke.

'Stop right there! Show yourself!'

She was incredibly nervous and fearful in this instant before a familiar voice called out. "JJ, its pitch black in here. I can't even see my own hand in front of my face.'

She finally began to calm down. It was only Reid. 'I thought you were going to kill me,' she laughed softly. 'Where are we anyway?'

She began feeling the floor and walls behind her, becoming more disgusted the more she touched.

'I have no idea,' Reid remarked casually. 'We were in Hickam's basement then... that's all I can remember.'

Suddenly it all came back to her. The basement. The woman. The death threat. The glass bottle to the head. Wait, JJ thought. I was hit? She reached up to feel her head and sure enough it was damp. She brought her hand towards her face and licked it. It was definitely blood, she thought. That explained the light-headedness.

'Hey Reid,' she asked, trying to sound calm, 'do you remember if I got hit with something in the basement, or am I imagining things?'

She could hear him gasp. 'Oh my god,' he whispered. 'I do remember now. Are you okay? I think you lost a lot of blood back there...'

'Wait... back there? You mean here, right? We're still in Hickam's basement.'

JJ's heart quickened again.

'Umm, no. I don't think... I'm pretty sure this is somewhere different. I was feeling around the walls earlier and it didn't seem like the basement. I mean, I couldn't find the cupboards or the glass jars or anything. And besides, Hickam's basement didn't smell this bad.'

The sudden realization hit JJ full on. If she wasn't already sitting she surely would have fell down.

'This isn't good,' she muttered, 'This is definitely not good Reid.' She went to tuck her hair behind her ears but instead ending up brushing back the matted mess of blood. At least she wasn't bleeding now and they could at least be thankful for that.

'Okay, let's try to piece this thing together,' said Reid, faking a calm voice. 'We were in the basement looking for my wallet; Morgan was waiting outside.... Then the trapdoor slammed shut and someone came down asking us to help her... you started to ask questions and the woman hit you with one of those old jars...'

JJ let all this sink in. It was a lot to handle right now. 'How did you remember all this?' she asked him quietly.

'Remember? I wasn't knocked out for as long as you were... and I didn't lose any blood.'

Despite the seriousness of the situation she couldn't help but laugh a little. 'So we have no idea where we are. This really sucks,' said JJ hopelessly as she felt the cold wall behind her.

'I'm sure Hotch is up to something,' Reid said reassuringly. 'And at the very least I'm sure Morgan's in a lot of trouble.'

At this JJ managed a smile. It didn't last for long though because suddenly a narrow silver of light emerged from the wall farthest away from them. It was apparently a door they didn't know existed. A small, boney hand appeared from behind the door and flicked on a light switch. Suddenly the room was bathed in an eerie white glow. Reid glanced at JJ and noticed the bruises on her face and the amount of blood that soaked her hair and shirt. Before he could say anything a faint voice echoed throughout the cold, stony room.

'I've been,' the voice cracked, 'bad. I've been really bad. And I need some help.'

This voice sounded different than the one that had apparently kidnapped them. JJ felt sorry for the person on the other side of the door.

'We can help you,' said Reid, shifting uncomfortably. 'We know how.'

Suddenly the voice changed tones drastically. 'He lied to me! I've been used! And I've been bad. You'll help me. You'll help me or... you'll die!'

'Calm down,' said JJ soothingly, 'we said we would. Just tell us what's wrong.'

And with that, the person behind the door came into full view for the first time. Her long greasy hair hung in curtains around her face and her eyes were wide and sunken in. She was long and lanky, wearing oversized clothing and looked as if she hadn't showered in days.

'I've been tricked!' said the woman almost comically. 'Tricked like an animal! Doing his deeds... I need some sort of absolution.'

Reid looked at JJ for some direction but didn't get any at all.

'We've got the best doctors in America back where we're from, so if you just let us go...'

'NO!' shrieked the woman. 'I don't need doctors! I don't need your damn medicine or machines. I need to be... to become a sacrifice. That's the only way. I've been bad... and I need your help.'

The woman looked at JJ pleadingly before turning to face the door.

'And if you two don't kill me...,' the voice said in a sing-song tone, 'I guess I'll just have to kill you.'

The door shut and a cold realization washed over the unlucky duo, stunning them into a long silence.

***

"This is the third day we've been working on this case and we're no closer to catching this guy,' said Emily desperately, prodding a stubborn piece of food stuck to the table in the makeshift conference room in the hotel. She glanced up at the calendar on the wall and noticed that it was Halloween.

'She's right, we've got nothing,' said Morgan sadly to the walls opposite him. It was now one in the afternoon and they still weren't any closer to finding Reid, JJ or the unsub.

'I'm just throwing this out there,' said Garcia in a cautious tone, 'but maybe you've got your profile wrong?'

'We don't have a full profile to get wrong, Garcia,' snapped Hotch. He was flipping through several file folders at once, hoping an answer would spring up off the pages. Garcia turned red and walked out of the room mumbling something about getting a croissant.

Emily and Morgan shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, taking notice of Hotch's foul mood.

'Don't you think that was a little out of line?' Morgan asked, trying not to sound snarky. He immediately regretted it, however.

'And who are you to decide what's out of line Derek?' Hotch shot back heatedly. 'If it wasn't for you we'd have two more able bodied agents helping us piece together a profile right now.'

Emily gasped. 'Don't tell me I risked my job just so you could come back here and treat us like we're indispensable! Is that all you care about? They'd help you put a file together? Does it matter that they might not even be alive right now?' She couldn't believe what was coming out of her own mouth right now.

Hotch suddenly relaxed and kneaded his forehead with his fingertips.

'We need to calm down and think rationally,' he said, looking at Morgan, who for once almost looked like he was going to have a breakdown.

'This has happened before, and it'll happen again. We can't let it get to us like it did with Reid. You remember how upset JJ was? She was hallucinating. What happens if that happens to us? There's no back-up. We have to get through this. Wherever they are, they're counting on us.'

Hotch walked over to Emily and placed a hand on her shoulder.

'You're right,' she mumbled. 'JJ was a mess. She doesn't seem to take things as well as... well, we do. I really hope she's alright.'

'She'll be fine, Emily.' Morgan stood up and walked over to where they stood. 'They'll be fine. With JJ's quick thinking and Reid's smarts, they'll get out of it.'

'What do we do?'

Reid's voice was laced with shock. JJ and he had just been told to kill the woman that was holding them captive or else she would kill them. Despite the apparently simplicity of the situation, it was extremely complex.

'I don't know,' JJ breathed, also shocked and confused, a million thoughts going through her head. 'How would we... how would we do it? And what if she gets tired waiting... and kills us?'

The words seemed to burn as they passed from her lips. There was a possibility that she'd die down here in a dirty basement along with Spencer Reid. Was it wrong, she thought, to picture herself lying in a clean hospital bed surrounded by flowers and close friends? And at the age of 90, she added hopefully, not 20-something.

'JJ,' Reid said quietly as if trying to whisper, 'do you know what day it is?'

'No, I...' all of a sudden she remembered the digital watch she was wearing and checked it. 'It's Halloween. Why?'

Although she couldn't see it, she knew that a grin had spread across his face.

'I've got a plan,' he said, sounding excited.

Morgan, Emily, and Garcia went back to the Hickam house around four o'clock to look over the scene again making sure there was nothing they missed. They knew they were pulling at straws but it was all they could do to keep from going insane. Hotch had removed himself from the others temporarily and spent most of the afternoon speaking with Benson, which turned out to be pretty useless.

'This place gives me the creeps,' Garcia whined. 'Why do I have to be here?'

'Who signs your checks, baby doll?' asked Morgan, obviously a little annoyed.

Garcia grumbled and walked into the house after them. Morgan was sick of it; the patterned walls watching him, mocking him for his mistakes. For getting two agents abducted or killed. He focused his gaze on the floor and kept walking forward into the kitchen.

'Do you think whoever abducted Reid and JJ was waiting for them?' Emily asked as she moved around pictures on a coffee table, looking at each one briefly. Smiling faces looked up at her... faces that were either buried under six feet of soil or about to be.

'It could be possible,' said Garcia. 'Maybe they saw them coming during the day and knew they were FBI. Then when they came back late at night looking for Reid' wallet... well that was his chance, right? Maybe this unsub was waiting for them to come back.'

'But that's kind of farfetched,' Morgan interjected. 'Do you honestly think that our unsub would believe we were coming back to the house after our investigation? It's not like this place was the murder scene. We were pretty thorough here anyway. The only reason we'd have to come back was... well, if we left something here. Which Reid had.'

Emily and Garcia looked at one another, trying to think of something to say.

'Maybe our unsub got lucky. Hell, maybe it's not even our unsub at all. It could have been a thief. When JJ and Reid came in he realized they'd rat him out... so he held them hostage.' Emily's theory seemed semi-plausible.

'Damnit,' Morgan groaned. 'That's just taking us farther and farther away from our unsub. I think it has to be related. At least, I hope it's related. Let's look anywhere and everywhere for traces. Who knows, maybe the unsub got careless... threw out a receipt or something in the trash.' He was trying to ignore the sceptical looks he was getting and kept forging on. 'And if it was a thief... well it doesn't really matter. We have no idea who we're going after.'

Emily looked confused and headed upstairs with Garcia. This case was hit or miss. None of the pieces fit together. The only things they had to go on were the murders a few days previously. Trying to link them together was difficult. There were no apparent connections between any of the victims. Her head was spinning. 'Hotch says they're related,' she reminded herself silently. 'His hunches are usually right.'

'Okay, I'll take the bedroom,' said Garcia as she carefully made her way up the creaky staircase. 'I had no intentions of making that sexy or anything,' she added hastily before sliding through the big oak door.

Emily went to the bathroom, hoping that maybe the unsub came in here at some point. It seemed to be one of the more logical theories floating around in her mind right now. The unsub was most likely inside the house when JJ and Reid arrived. He probably wasn't downstairs either because they probably would have heard him when they entered. Chances are, Emily thought, this unsub was upstairs somewhere. The bathroom was definitely a good shot, if such a thing existed in this case.

'I've got nothing over here yet,' yelled Garcia from across the hall. 'Still looking though.'

Emily went for the garbage can first, just like Morgan suggested. Tissues, candy wrappers, an empty prescription bottle... wait a minute, she thought. The name on the bottle was not Jeremy Hickam's. It wasn't his deceased wife's name either. She re-read the name aloud. 'Annabelle Mays,' she whispered, 'here I come.'

Morgan and Garcia both agreed that the prescription bottle was a great find. Not only was the name a good lead, but the medicine Ms Mays was on also seemed intriguing.

'Isn't that for people with schizophrenia?' Morgan said, eyeing the bottle.

'I knew it looked familiar!' Garcia yelled. 'Reid used to talk about this stuff. His mom used to be on it.'

Within an hour this case was looking more and more interesting.

Morgan called Hotch with the information they received from Hickam's bathroom garbage can. He ran the name by Benson and got an address and a partial background on Annabelle Mays.

'She's 32 years old and lives here in Salem,' Morgan said, pacing in the living room. 'According to Benson she was the typical girl next door until about ten years ago. That's when her schizophrenia kicked in. Her parents couldn't handle the sudden outbursts and kicked her out of the house. Since then she's been on welfare and lives in a small apartment a few blocks from here.'

'That's good, that's really good,' said Emily enthusiastically. 'Hopefully this leads us somewhere now.'

The trio agreed and seemed to be in better moods. By now it was half past five and they were getting ready to head back to the hotel. It was dark by now and only the dim glow of the porch light illuminated the living room. Emily was just putting her coat on when a pounding noise came from the entranceway.

'Stay back,' whispered Morgan. 'For all we know it could be Annabelle.' He raised his gun and moved towards the front door cautiously. Three figures were silhouetted against the wall. Another loud knock startled them and Morgan finally made his move.

'FBI, show yourself!'

He threw the door open only to find three young children dressed as pumpkins looking quite terrified. His facial expression changed immediately.

'I'm so sorry guys!' he rambled. 'I didn't know it was you. I'll put this away right now,' he said, putting the gun down on the table.

'You forgot it was Halloween mister?' said one little girl who looked as if she was seven.

Emily and Garcia sniggered in the background. Morgan felt like a complete idiot.

'Of course not! That was my, uh... trick! You got a treat at your last house... and a trick at this house. Have a nice night! Happy Halloween!' And with that he shut the door on the children.

Emily howled with laughter. Morgan's face was bright red.

'You call assaulting three young children a trick? You pointed a loaded gun at them! That's terrifying!' Emily was having difficult time breathing and talking at the same time.

'Oh sure, laugh it up you two. Like I'm sure you haven't done stupid things like that before.' Morgan picked his gun back up and slid it into its holster.

'Tsk, tsk,' said Garcia in a disappointed tone. 'I thought you knew better than to threaten children. That's going to have to change now, isn't it?'

And with that the trio piled into the SUV and headed back to the motel.

'What's this great plan of yours, genius Dr. Reid?' JJ asked, sounding amused. She knew she should be terrified right now, but she didn't feel it.

'Don't rush it,' he said it an excited voice. 'But I wouldn't really call it a plan... and please don't call me doctor.'

JJ laughed. 'Okay, Spence. Spill the beans.'

'Well, its Halloween,' he said rather slowly. 'Whoever this person is... she's going to be busy either handing candy out or deflecting kids that come knocking at her door. This could be a perfect diversion.'

'How,' said JJ in an outraged tone, 'do you think that is going to work? What the hell! That doesn't even make sense.'

It was apparent that Reid was not expecting this answer. Something more along the lines of a chorus of praise... but even geniuses were laughed at. He could accept it because she'd be thanking him later for saving her life.

'Okay, kids usually start going out around five o'clock. The first ones should be coming any minute. I'm really hoping she goes to the door. In fact, this whole plan counts on that. When she does, we're going to sneak out.'

'Out of where, Spencer? We don't even know the layout of this place. This is your worst idea ever.' JJ was definitely not impressed.

'Well while you were knocked out I noticed a small window over there.' He was pointing to a corner in the room but JJ couldn't see on account of the room being in total darkness. 'It was locked though and looked as if there was something covering it on the outside. With that woman upstairs passing out candy or... well, whatever, we might be able to get out of here. Wherever we are, that is.'

JJ was pretty sure she wasn't the only one that got hit in the head. Reid was not making any sense.

'Where do you suppose we are?' JJ asked almost comically. 'Still in Salem? Or maybe we could be somewhere like Boston.'

'Don't get caught up in the details JJ. Trust me.'

She had lost a lot of blood and wasn't thinking clearly. This plan was the worst one she had ever heard and was guaranteed to fail, but agreed to carry on with it just to shut Reid up.

'Okay, now for costumes. Shine your watch display around the place JJ. See if we can find anything.'

'Costumes?' JJ roared with laughter. 'Reid, I thought we were just breaking out of here! Not going trick-or-treating.'

Now it was Reid's turn to be disappointed.

'But if we have costumes on then the chances of us being spotted are lessened. Right?'

With a dramatic eye roll that Reid couldn't see, JJ pushed a small button on the side of her wristwatch and small sections of the room were bathed in a soft, blue light. A few more tries and Reid noticed something in a far corner.

'Hey! What's that over there? It looks like an old sweater or something. Shine some more light this way.'

JJ sighed and shone her watch in Reid's direction. He picked up the piece of clothing off of what apparently was a short table. It was a massive black pull over full of holes. It smelled of mothballs and dirt, but it was better than nothing.

'This'll work... I think. For me, anyway. Now what can you be...' Reid began to look around the basement again.

'Okay you may be brave enough to wear that... but how's it going to cover your face?' JJ was realizing how incredibly lame this was. 'We don't have any masks Reid. I told you this plan sucked. Just wait, Hotch will catch on. We'll get out of here soon, just...'

'No.' Reid's voice was clear and precise. 'Don't try to tell me that. After spending all that time tied up with Henkel... it made me realize something. You have to take chances on things. I honestly didn't think I'd make it out of there alive but I did. And what if you guys hadn't shown up? Would I be here right now? I have no idea. Probably not. I'm not going to sit here waiting for someone to get us out of here. I don't care how bad this idea sounds, I'm going to try anyway. And unless you've got any better ideas, I suggest you help me look... please.'

JJ looked at the floor.

'I'm...I'm really sorry about that Reid.' She sighed and let go of the button on her watch, the blue light fading away. 'It was my fault. And I'm really sorry what happened to you... during that situation, and well... the aftermath.'

'You...you knew about that?' Reid's tone of voice changed dramatically.

'The drugs? Yeah. Sorry but... I told Hotch. I was worried about you. Look, those things you went through that day... no one should have had to go through that. If I could go back there and take your place I would.'

JJ reached out in the dark and found Reid's hand.

'I really, really would.'

Reid sighed. 'I know. It's just...'

Suddenly JJ removed her hand and pressed the button on her wristwatch again, setting the room aglow. 'Operation: find me a costume is now underway.'

Somehow Reid managed to feel guilty although he didn't know why. However, at least JJ was more supportive of his plan and that was all that mattered right now.

***

Emily, Hotch, and Morgan were making their way over to Annabelle's apartment rather slowly on account of the dozens of trick-or-treaters that now filled the quaint side streets.

'Aren't they just adorable?' Emily gushed from the passenger's seat as Hotch looked at a young boy reminiscent of his own while they stopped at an intersection. Morgan sighed in the back seat.

'My mother always wanted me to get married and have children of my own she could fuss over,' he said quietly, adjusting his seat belt. Emily turned around to face him.

'Hey, it's not too late. I'm sure you'll find someone great and settle down eventually.'

Morgan huffed softly. 'Yeah, it's easier said than done. Who wants to raise children with this sort of profession? Profiling and child-rearing don't really go hand in hand.'

Emily bit her lip and looked sad as this realization washed over and seemed to crush her dreams for the future. Hotch noticed this and looked over at her empathetically before letting go of the brakes.

'I think,' he said as he cut the wheels of the SUV, 'you would both make wonderful parents someday.'

The team finally pulled into the narrow gravel driveway outside of Annabelle Mays' apartment building fifteen minutes later. A dim light cast a greyish glow onto the narrow porches; this complex was only one storey high.

'Apartment 28,' Emily pointed out, re-reading the information Benson had given them about the suspect. Hotch approached the weathered aluminium door and knocked loudly three times.

'FBI, open up Ms. Mays,' his deep voice echoed off the brick walls surrounding them. After waiting a few moments without anyone answering the door, Morgan stepped up and opened the unlocked door. The apartment looked plain and unlived in.

'Well, she certainly hasn't been doing much living here,' remarked Emily, noting the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and the flashing answering machine. 'Hey look at the dust on this table,' she remarked, glancing over at the kitchen table. Annabelle certainly hadn't been here in awhile... a week, at least.

'I'll look in the other rooms. Morgan I want you to listen to that answering machine tape,' Hotch ordered as he strolled down the narrow hallway leading into a bedroom.

'First message,' the answering machine chirped, followed by the voice of a worried woman.

'Annabelle, honey,' the disembodied voice said nervously, 'I just got a call from your doctor. You've missed your last appointment. Listen, you know how important those are... and you didn't pick up your prescription either. I can get it for you if you want... just.... Well, please call me back and let me know you're alright. I love you.'

Morgan looked over at Emily, a look of horror on his face. 'So she's out of her meds,' he said slowly. 'That's not...'

'HOTCH!' yelled Emily, making him come running out of the bedroom down the hall, 'We've got some bad news. We're going to need to see Annabelle's medical records... now.'

'Do you like Tim Burton?'

'...did he direct the Batman movies with George Clooney?'

'Yes... among other amazing things.'

Reid and JJ were occupying themselves with small talk for the time being. Now it was Reid's turn to babble about his favourite directors. JJ didn't care much anymore; she found it sort of cute in an odd way that she tried to push out of her mind.

'...so Edward Scissorhands was kind of a big deal I guess. You like Johnny Depp, right? I mean what woman doesn't,' Reid was saying very quickly. JJ realized she had zoned out for most of his one-sided conversation.

'Johnny Depp?' she asked, trying to sound interested, 'Yeah I like him. Pirates of the Caribbean... that was a good movie.' She could hear Reid's disappointed sigh echoing off the walls.

'JJ, if we ever get out of here I'm going to lend you some movies. And you have to promise to watch them,' Reid said, a hint of laughter in his voice. 'Now in all seriousness, when do you think we should leave?'

'You mean break out of here?' she asked quietly. 'I don't know. How about now?'

Reid pondered this thought. 'No, we should wait until more kids are out. Wait, what time is it anyway?'

JJ pressed the little button on the side of her watch. '6:00,' she whispered.

'Hmmm, well I guess we'll have to do it soon. I really hope I don't get us killed,' Reid said nervously.

'Well, if it's any consolation,' JJ said softly and sarcastically, 'I hope you don't either.'

'Trick or treat!'

A small boy dressed up as a pirate stood on concrete door step. The building was only one storey high; long, rectangular, old. A small-framed woman with long greasy hair and sunken eyes looked down at him with an expression that was very hard to read. The boy shook the orange basket he was holding a bit more vigorously.

'Trick or treat!' he said again, sounding a little annoyed. He was, after all, only about eight or nine years old and not very patient. After a few more moments of the bewildered lady looking down at him, he decided to turn around and go back to his mother's car across the street. Before he had a chance to do so, the sickly woman grabbed and twisted his wrist, forcing him inside the small foyer. No cries of protest were heard; a cotton cloth was brought up to his mouth before he fell limp in her arms. A few seconds later, the aluminium door shut quietly behind the woman and the small boy. Minutes later, a worried mother would come walking by this strip of apartments looking for her curious little son, but to no avail.

'Annabelle Mays,' said Dr. Elwood Craig, stepping down off of his porch where two little children were now receiving candy from his wife. 'She was.... Unusual,' he concluded, rubbing the small area between his eyebrows tenderly. Emily and Morgan rushed over to Dr. Craig's house as soon as they had discovered he was Annabelle's doctor.

'Do you know what she gets like when she's off her medicine?' Emily asked hurriedly, stepping aside to let the two children pass.

Dr. Craig looked as if he was deep in concentration. 'Her specifically? No. It affects everyone differently, you know. But from what I know about the drug,' he said quietly, 'for someone as unstable as Annabelle... well, it could be dangerous.'

'How so?' said Morgan in a booming voice that frightened a few passer bys.

'She's very unwell, but I'm sure you've gathered that already. Schizophrenia... very severe too, I may add. If she's not taking her medicine... she could become her other half.'

'Other half? What... what do you mean other half?' Emily asked worriedly.

'Well,' Dr. Craig continued, 'some people suffering from schizophrenia have a permanent other. That is to say Annabelle is two separate people. She's fairly normal when she's on her meds, but then when she's off it... well, you know. It's like Jekyll and Hyde.'

'How bad can she get?' Morgan asked, trying to sound a bit calmer but definitely aware of the current situation.

'I'm not completely sure... but I think she could get pretty bad. It would be in your best interest to find her as soon as possible and get her back on her medication.'

Dr. Craig waved to a few neighbourhood kids before Morgan reached over and grabbed him firmly on the shoulder. 'Look, if she's hurt my colleagues she's going to have a lot more than medication to worry about, alright?'

'Derek, cut it out!' Emily reached over and he released his hold on the doctor. 'Come on, let's get out of here. Thank you for your time, sir,' she finished, dragging Morgan back to the SUV.

'What the hell,' Emily said in a fierce whisper, 'do you think you're doing? That man did nothing wrong.' Morgan was visibly upset and agitated.

'Emily he didn't make sure this woman had her medication.' Anger seethed out from his every pore.

'That's not his problem! It's the patient's, Derek. He can't go around babysitting every single person with a mental disability!'

'Well maybe he should!' Morgan shot back at her, his face burning up. 'Because maybe then we'd have Reid and JJ back!' And with that he stormed off down the street, dialling a number on his cell phone. Emily leaned against the side of the SUV, tears forming in her eyes. She was the strong one, the infallible one. Nothing ever got to her.

Well, I'd like to let them see me now, she thought, as she let a big tear slide down her face.

The big heavy door opened and something was thrown inside to Reid and JJ before it slammed shut again.

'What was that?' Reid whispered, pulling himself back closer to the wall away from whatever was just thrown in with them.

'I have no idea,' JJ remarked calmly. 'Think we should check?'

You could almost hear the gears grinding in Reid's head. JJ shrugged and pushed the button in on her watch. The pale blue light fell down over the body of a young boy, not much older than eight or nine. She gasped and crawled over to him, making sure he had a pulse.

'Oh my god,' Reid said, 'is he alright?'

How was JJ supposed to know? She wasn't a doctor. But after establishing that the boy had a pulse and there were no apparent wounds, she mumbled a quiet 'I think so.'

Reid heard JJ sniffle and was pretty sure it wasn't on account of the dampness. Instinctively he threw an arm around her shoulders.

'Look, I'm sure he was just... knocked out, like us,' he said, trying to sound as reassuring as he possibly could.'

JJ chuckled. 'That sounded very charming,' she said quietly.

Reid was momentarily stunned. 'Uhh... yeah, thanks,' he said hastily.

'I know... I mean, I know, he'll probably wake up. But look, he's only young! I wonder if his parents are looking for him. And... well, how did he get in here? I hope this woman isn't becoming more hostile as the time goes by... I mean, who knows...'

JJ was cut off by Reid's arm tightening around her shoulders, giving her a comforting squeeze.

'Don't worry. It'll all be okay, he'll be okay, and we'll be okay. Don't worry about it JJ.'

And although she knew those words were mostly empty, she couldn't help but feel a little better.

***

'Where am I?'

The young boy was stirring on the floor; Reid had removed his sweater and used it to prop the boy's head up while he was unconscious. JJ slid over near the boy and reached out for his hands.

'I don't know,' she said slowly, 'but you're safe. Don't worry; we'll get you back home.'

Although she couldn't see it, Reid was nodding in approval in the darkness.

'What's your name?' Reid asked tenderly as if the sound waves of his voice may just kill the boy. JJ pulled the child in for a gentle hug, feeling tears fall down his face.

'Anderson,' he said in a whisper. 'Does my mom know I'm down here?' he added quickly. JJ was quickly trying to think of ways to answer this without frightening him.

'Look Anderson, I'm going to need you to help us out alright? Can you answer a few questions?' she asked gingerly, stroking his hair gently. She could tell he was afraid and had every reason to be. Reid took her silence as an initiative to question the boy.

'What do you remember before... this happened?' Reid said slowly and clearly. He didn't have much experience talking with children, but apparently JJ had. Or at least she seemed to have, he noted.

'I went up to this apartment and knocked on the door. A lady looked at me funny and... and that's all,' Anderson concluded, breaking out into a quiet sob. 'Does my mom know? She worries about me a lot.'

Reid bit his lip instinctively. 'Don't worry,' he said confidently, 'we'll get you back to her in no time.'

JJ held the small boy in a motherly embrace while Reid was trying to think of what to do next. If the boy's mother called the police and told them about the last house he went to, they'll find and confront Anna. And then... who knows. Would she kill them? Would she turn herself in? Reid didn't feel like sticking around to find out and he was sure JJ and the boy didn't either.

'Emily, are you alright?' Hotch pulled up in a police car with Benson behind the wheel. Emily was standing against the SUV with her head in her hands and it was obvious that she had been crying.

'Yeah, I'm... I'm fine,' she said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. 'Just... well, never mind. Look, we were talking to Annabelle's doctor and...' Hotch cut her off.

'Are you able to work this case Prentiss?'

This caught Emily off guard. She was the new agent but this just came right out of left field.

'Of course I am! Are you questioning my...'

'I'm questioning your judgement. Has this gotten to you?' Hotch was looking at her with a mix of empathy and strictness.

'I'm... I'm okay, yeah. I can do this. Just... give me a minute.' She wiped her eyes with her fingertips and took a few deep breaths. 'This is harder than it looks, you know?'

Hotch was watching the groups of children passing them on the street; a few of them giving Emily odd glances. 'No one said it was easy,' he said quietly, 'but we do this because if we don't, then who will?' Both of them were gazing up at the stars that littered the navy sky.

'Am I cut out for this? Honestly?'

A fresh stream of tears began to trickle down her face and they were illuminated by the streetlights. 'Emily, we're only human. We all have cases that affect us more than others. This case is more traumatic for you, I understand. We're dealing with an unsub that's holding two of our own captive. The only thing you have to remember at the end of the day is that you're doing the right thing and making a difference.'

With a brief pat on the back Hotch made his way over to Morgan who was explaining in great detail what Dr. Craig had told him. Emily sighed and willed herself to pull together before checking her reflection in the rear view mirror of the SUV and joining the rest of her team a few yards away.

'Great, now we've got a kid missing,' said Benson rather dully. He was eating some mini candy bars he had pulled out of his pocket, smacking his mouth quite loudly. Emily made a disgusted face and looked at Morgan.

'What are the chances that this is connected to our unsub?' she said, sighing quietly. Morgan kicked up some dirt and looked as if he was thinking hard. 'Very, very slim,' Benson finally said loudly. 'It's Halloween. Maybe the kid got lost... or in a more serious scenario, maybe he was kidnapped.'

Emily rolled her eyes and glanced at Morgan briefly, who was apparently trying to avoid her. 'So what do we do now? Does this missing kid put up a red flag? Do we have to stop looking for the woman that's holding part of our team hostage?'

Benson looked at her with an odd expression on his face, shoving a miniature Kit-Kat bar into his mouth before speaking. 'The mother called and said she remembers the last house the kid went trick-or-treating at, so I should probably check that out. I think you should remain working on this,' he said, waving his arms around to indicate the team and the FBI, 'case. This missing boy is in my jurisdiction anyway, not yours. Only problem is my men have to help me and not you.' Benson walked away and struggled to get into the driver's seat of an old police car and rolled down the window. 'Sorry about that, darlin'. Good luck with your case.'

As the police drove away Hotch noticed his phone was vibrating and went to pick it up. The called ID wasn't one he recognized, however.

'Hello?' he said clearly into the mouth piece. Silence issued from the other end for a moment before he recognized Reid's voice.

'Hey Hotch, what's up?' Reid sounded extremely casual.

'Reid, listen to me. Where are you?' He had waved Emily and Morgan over and put the phone on speaker.

'I... I'm sorry but... look, you can't come here. If you do we'll... uhh, we'll die. You better stop the police before they get here or else you're going to have a big mess to clean up.'

Emily's eyes widened and she let out an involuntary gasp. Morgan put his arm around her, forgetting their earlier dispute. The team obviously knew the unsub was making Reid call Hotch; it was the oldest trick in the book. They heard what sounded like a child crying in the background.

'Hang tight, Reid.'

Hotch hung up his phone and ran over to the SUV.

'So I take it we're going in anyway?' Morgan said calmly as Emily began putting on her bullet proof vest.

'Yeah but we're going to do it my way so that means you need to call Benson and tell him not to go any further.'

The streets were beginning to thin out; kids weren't knocking on doors as much as they were setting off firecrackers in their front yards. This was fine as far as Detective Benson was concerned because he knew he'd have lots of leftover candy at his place. He was three blocks away from his final destination when the cell phone attached to his waist began vibrating. Silently cursing whoever was on the other line, he picked up rather swiftly.

'This is Agent Hotchner. Do not enter that house under any circumstances, do you hear me?'

Benson involuntarily snarled upon hearing these words: he hated being told what to do.

'Excuse me, but who the hell do you think you are telling me how to do my job?'

'I'm an FBI agent and you better damn well listen to me or else more than your job is going to be at stake if you enter that house.'

Benson straightened up on his seat and pressed the phone closer to his ear. 'Go on, I'm listening.'

'Two members of my team are in there with the missing boy. I've just received a phone call stating that whoever's holding them captive will kill them all if you intervene.'

Benson rolled his eyes and reached in his pocket for a Coffee Crisp bar. 'How can you be sure this isn't a prank one of those bastard kids plays on Halloween night?'

'Because,' said Hotch angrily, 'it was a member of my team that called.'

***

I have no idea how to add author's notes or whatever to chapters/stories so I'm just going to stick this in at the beginning. First of all, thank you everyone that's read and reviewed this story! I rarely write fiction so it's nice knowing that people read it. Also I'd like to apologize for the long hiatus; I thought I had deleted the file and then I just generally fell out of love with the show/ship. I do love writing up my own versions of the characters though so I may write another Criminal Minds fic after I finish this one up with the last chapter. I'm sorry for any inconsistencies in these last few chapters.. I'm a bit forgetful and I'm not sure if these things have actually happened in the past or not. I'm hoping they have but if not, please ignore my bad memory and laziness.

'I'm scared,' the boy said quietly as JJ wrapped a limp arm around his shoulders. 'Do you think that's my mom at the door?'

It took all the strength left in her to answer with a simple 'no' now. A loud knock at the door had interrupted their rather dismal situation and Annabelle fled upstairs. This gave Reid and JJ a few moments to think with what little sanity they had left. All the needless beating had left them clueless. Making use of the time they had alone, Reid checked out the damage done to JJ's face. He didn't need good lighting to tell that it was severely busted up; scratches were strewn across her cheeks like stars in a crimson sky. He couldn't tell if she had a black eye or if it was just a shadow being cast. He instinctively brushed a piece of hair behind her ear to get a better look at the damage.

'Shit,' he said quietly, 'I... I'm sorry JJ.'

'This isn't the time for jokes,' Reid said seriously as Anderson looked on in confusion. 'And if we're comparing battle scars, I'd say we're even. Stop feeling bad for me! I think we're even in that regard too, I mean... we're horrible agents.' JJ looked at him in apparent surprise.

'We're young and inexperienced. Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I can be on the field and hell, you're good at press, not catching serial killers! When are we going to realize that we're just not cut out for this job? Maybe we'll have to die before it sinks...' and before he could finish his sentence JJ's lips crashed down on the side of his face knocking him completely off guard. With that, Annabelle's descent down the wooden stairs could be heard from outside the room.

'Just shut up and save yourself, Spence.'

'Where the hell is that lazy son of a bitch detective?' Morgan groaned. 'This is his jurisdiction and he should be here.' Hotch tried Benson's cell number and waited impatiently as he let it ring six or seven times. Just as he was about to hang up he heard someone pick up.

'Where are you, detective?'

Silence issued from the other end.

'Benson? Where are you?'

A long pause.

'He can't come to the phone right now,' an eerie voice whispered. 'He's... busy.'

The line went dead.

'What was that all about?' Emily demanded, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

'I hate when people underestimate my authority,' said a fuming Hotch as he shoved his cell phone into a pocket. He had dealt with enough small town police forces to know what Benson had done. As far as he was concerned, the FBI had no right to overstep their boundaries... a way of thinking that didn't exactly do him any favours.

'Translation?' Morgan asked rather impatiently as he crossed his arms over his chest.

'There's a chance Benson's dead... and if he's not then he will be shortly. He'll be with Reid and JJ in the house so we need to get in there immediately.'

'Are you sure that's the best thing to do?' Emily asked, a look of worry etched onto her features. She recalled the incident with Jason Gideon a few years previously when he sent his team into an unsafe location only for them all to die at the hands of the unsub. She did not want Hotch to make the same mistake.

'No I'm not sure,' he said hastily, 'but if we don't do something soon I believe more than Benson's life will be lost.'

'And you wonder why I've never trusted the law,' Annabelle said menacingly, holding a book of matches in her right hand. 'You tell me you're on my side then you send in your friends... you think I'm the crazy one but really... I don't think that's fair.'

'What are you talking about?' Reid asked, sounding shocked. He really had no idea what she was talking about, which wasn't new, but it bothered him nonetheless.

Annabelle crouched down and came within inches of Reid's face. She was so close that he could see the grease almost sliding down her hair, her eyes bulging, and her lips chapped and faded. 'Deadbeat detective dead on the doorstep,' she sang in an eerie melody into Reid's ear. JJ suddenly spun around and spit on Annabelle, getting her square in the eye.

'You're lying!' JJ was enraged.

'Shot him with his own gun, poor thing... he didn't see it coming,' Annabelle sung in her horribly manic singsong voice, completely ignoring JJ. 'Literally,' she added after a pause, 'I don't know why those cops get so big.'

Suddenly JJ remembered Detective Benson and let out a silent sigh of relief. She was envisioning one of her co-workers dead upstairs in the foyer and it wasn't pleasant. Not that she was glad it was Benson that had to die, but... she shuddered nonetheless.

'What are you going to do now?' Reid said shakily, avoiding her eyes. He was afraid of what he was about to hear. 'I think you know how this story ends,' she hissed as she backed away from his face. 'You know,' she said, using her hands to emphasize her point, 'boom.' JJ gulped involuntarily and Anderson latched onto her arm.

'Oh my god is that...' Emily's voice trailed off as she saw what appeared to be a body on the doorstep of the apartment complex. Morgan caught up with her and sighed. Benson's bloody body was lying face down on the cold cement, a small Snickers bar protruding from his back pocket.

'Go go go!' Hotch shouted as he directed a few SWAT members around back. He never considered himself a religious man but now, more than ever, he was hoping there was a God to answer his many prayers.

'Look!' Anderson screamed as what appeared to be bricks in the wall opposite them began moving. There appeared to be a camouflaged door in the ancient cellar.

JJ and Reid both reached out to protect the boy in case there was anyone other than the FBI on the other side of that door. With a few swift kicks four SWAT team members busted down the door and stared at the trio as they scrambled do their feet.

'Aren't you gonna tell us what's going...' one of them began to ask before JJ shoved him the chest.

'Get out; she's going to blow this place up!'

'Emily, do not go in there.' Morgan's voice was firm and serious as she took a step over Benson's lifeless body.

'Don't tell me how to do my job Derek,' she said coldly as she busted down the door in an unusual display of strength. She simultaneously heard two distinct sounds: the SWAT team in the basement and what sounded like scraping noises coming from down the hall. Quickly, Emily ran down and stood outside the door, her gun drawn.

'I know you're in there Annabelle,' she said quietly but firmly. All of a sudden the scraping sounds stopped. It was apparent that she was moving furniture around. Emily heard a door slam from within the room and decided to enter it. It looked as if she was in a living room and Annabelle had now locked herself inside a bathroom. The apartment was extremely small.

'What are you doing? What have you done with my team?'

Laugher echoed from inside the bathroom.

'I said,' Emily yelled fiercely, 'what are you doing?'

The door swung open to reveal a ghastly woman with a homemade bomb attached to her chest.

'I'm doing you a favour,' she said with a crazed look in her eyes.

***

'Ow, that hurts.'

JJ squirmed in the back of the ambulance as a paramedic dabbed a cloth on her cuts and scrapes.

'No pain, no gain' said Morgan cheerfully as he stood a few feet back from the open doors of the white van. Reid was sitting on the ledge where the doors were open examining the white cloth wrapped around his wrists. The events of the last day didn't even seem real to him.

'Where's the boy?' JJ asked trying to forget about the pain that seared through her as the paramedic applied some sort of cream to a rather deep cut on the right side of her face.

'Oh,' said Morgan, caught off guard, 'he's back with his mother now. Poor kid was shaken up real bad.'

'Did you happen to find out what his mother does for a living?' Reid interjected, his eyebrows knitted together in deep thought as he kept his gaze focused on the bandages on his hands.

Morgan laughed a deep, hearty laugh as he glanced down at Reid. 'Not my idea of small talk, boy genius. But it turns out the kid was actually adopted... I don't know if that factors into whatever you're thinking about.'

JJ shot up off of the tiny bed inside the ambulance. 'Do you know who his birth parents are?' Reid spun around to face her and they both wore a similar look on their faces.

'Jeez, what are you two getting at? I'm not sure I follow...'

Reid got down off of the ledge and ran over to Anderson and his mother who were about a hundred yards away or so. JJ, despite protests from the paramedics and Morgan, soon followed in suit. 'How much do you want to bet that his biological mother was Annabelle?' JJ had a curious expression on her face.

Emily stood back a few yards from the apartment complex, a few scrapes on her forearms from the gravel which she dove into an hour earlier. Annabelle Mays had committed suicide, and thankfully enough, didn't take anyone else out with her. She didn't know much about homemade explosives and miscalculated the amount of supplies, causing her explosion to be relatively small. Fortunately Emily had managed to get out of the building before the bomb went off but she was still shaken up nonetheless.

'You know,' Morgan said as he came up from behind, 'you shouldn't have gone in there. You could have been killed.'

Emily kept her gaze focused on the building, a grim line for her mouth. 'I know,' she replied.

'Then why did you go in?' Morgan was confused.

'I don't know, I just did,' she said with a sigh as she turned around to face him. 'You know, you just do these things without thinking them through.' Her eyes drifted over to the small boy who was now giving JJ a hug in the distance.

'But usually these things shouldn't put your life in jeopardy,' Hotch said coming out from behind the building and invading their conversation. The remains of Annabelle were covered up and taken out on a stretcher. 'You were lucky and I don't want you to have to rely on luck again, Ms. Prentiss.' With that, he escorted the stretcher to an awaiting ambulance.

'Listen Em,' Morgan said, sensing her sadness, 'you did what you thought was right, I get it. But you can't save everyone and that's just part of the job.'

Emily's stony gaze penetrated Morgan and he did all that he could not to look away. 'This,' she said, waving her hands around to encompass the entire scene around them, 'is not a job. This is a lifestyle and I'm pretty sure they don't come with a mandatory guideline book or any of that.'

Morgan shrugged and began to walk away. He had only taken a few steps before turning around to see Emily's silhouette in the streetlights.

'They may not come with rulebooks,' he said quietly, 'but I think we are supposed to learn something from the mistakes we make.'

'Can you believe that? What are the chances?'

JJ was looking down the street blankly, trying to comprehend what she and Reid had just discovered. Anderson was adopted and his birth mother was Annabelle Mays. According to the boy's mother, Anna was in her early twenties when she had him and unfortunately, wasn't deemed mentally capable to care for a child. Reluctantly, she put the boy up for adoption but never forgot the small freckle underneath his left eye. This significant marker lead Annabelle to figure out that her biological son was trick-or-treating at her apartment.

'I don't understand though,' JJ said thoughtfully, 'why did she hold the boy hostage like us?'

Reid spun around, a quizzical look on his face. 'She probably wanted to kill her son. I mean, she had a strong idea of right and wrong; maybe she saw him as a mistake that she couldn't fix so she'd take them both out together.'

JJ's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she crossed her arms over her chest, wincing at the pain it caused. 'I guess it made sense to her somehow,' she said quietly, 'but not to me or you.'

Reid thought about this for a moment before he answered back. 'Well, no, I can see where she's coming from... schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder is a hard thing to understand. She's trying to make sense of who she is, what she's done, and how she can fix it whilst she's switching between all these other people and thoughts and...'

'Reid,' JJ said, stifling a laugh, 'just shut up. It's been a long day and frankly, I'm sick of you.' He faked a mock-hurt look and took a few steps back.

'Okay, okay, you win.'

She smiled weakly and started to make her way back to the cluster of police cars.

'Yes, Genius Dr. Reid let me win.'

The plane ride back to Quantico was quiet, as usual, and seemingly long. The team was tired and hungry but satisfied nonetheless. Emily sat in a seat near the back, head reclined and her eyes almost shut as if trying to black out her surroundings. Morgan was in the seat ahead playing Tetris on his cell while Hotch was reviewing the details of the case and going through various legal documents. The scenario was always the same on these plane trips back but the feelings varied slightly for all.

'Do you watch Heroes?' Reid piped up from his seat. He and JJ were playing Go Fish and every once in awhile he'd interject with a random observation or question.

'No, I don't usually have time for TV,' she answered flatly as she placed an 8 on top of the pile. 'Hearts,' she said through a yawn. 'Your turn.' The previous days effects were the most evident on JJ; she was quiet, withdrawn, and spacey. In short, she looked and felt the same way she had after Reid went missing the previous winter.

'Well, there's this girl that has spontaneous regeneration. I mean, she can heal herself instantly if anything happens. I was just thinking that it'd be really great to have that ability now, huh?' He looked at her bandaged face briefly before laying a 4 down on the pile.

'Yeah,' JJ said faintly, her eyes drifting towards the window as the runway lights glowed dimly below her, 'it would.' As hard as she tried, she couldn't push the mental image of Annabelle Mays' tortured face out of her mind. It wasn't her fault and it shouldn't have had to end like it did, but as Hotch had told her when she first started doing field work, it's impossible to save everyone. And as Reid began to ramble about the various other super powers the characters had, she silently thanked a higher power for saving them both that day.

Another mother's breakin'
Heart is taking over
When the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken
It's the same old theme since 1916
In your head, in your head they're still fightin'
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head
In your head they are dyin'

Zombie, by the Cranberries

***

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