WE GOT THE CHILDREN BACK. After nearly thirty three hours of searches and profiling along with three hours of interrogation, and a two hour armed stand off, Jace and Tristin are on their way to the police precinct to be reunited with their families. Thankfully neither of them were hurt, but two of the three unsubs were killed during the stand off at the abandoned hotel complex that they were held out at. The break in the case came when Spencer and I were interrupted by the shrill ringing of our phones.

The news was about what they found when they recovered the blockage within Rosalyns throat— a human finger.

Prentiss and JJ were able to visit Rosalyn Kennedy in the hospital after she was coherent enough for visitors. Taking a play from Hotchner and having the temporarily mute victim write out the answers to their questions, and she was able to give a lot of helpful information that propelled the case forward while the roadblocks were being set up.

Derek came by to the BAU offices to pick up Spencer on his way to one of the hospitals to interview the four men who came in for hand injury's involving fingers that day. Penelope dug deep into the lives of the four men, reading aloud each mundane or suppressed secret as I listened to see who fits the profile the most. We had settled on Connor Preston. He came into the hospital for stitches in the place where his ring finger used to be. When asked what happened he said he had cut himself while cooking, yet the wound was jagged and torn. He was raised in an abusive household with his older brother Cole Preston. Connor and Cole both had a history of being suspended in school due to behavioral issues, but when Garcia did a bit more research she found that Cole was always the instigator.

Cole Preston had a best friend named Marc Lunincci, who was also responsible for dragging Connor Preston down the path of suspensions and even an expulsion. Marc also came from a very rough home life, watching his mother shoot his abusive father when he was young. Connor fit the description of the submissive unsub, while his brother and his brothers friend were the two alpha personalities pushing against each other.

It took less than thirty minutes of pressing from Morgan, Spencer and Rossi for him to agree to work with us to get the children back.

Unfortunately Cole and Marc did not agree on what to do with the children, but they did agree on one thing— being taken alive isn't an option.

Both of them were shot dead. Committing suicide by cop in lieu of being arrested and charged for their crimes.

"Isn't that sweet?" I glance to my right at JJ who appeared at my side. Crossing her arms and shifting on her hip as she peers out the window to the scene I was already observing. "The ones with children are the hardest. But seeing this... it makes the nearly forty hours of no sleep worth it."

Tristin and Jace are being reunited with their family's. Despite both of their home lives being rocky, their abduction and time apart seemed to have stirred something in both the kids and the other parents. Each of the families were embraced in each other's arms, tears brimming their eyes and falling down their faces.

"Forty hours?" Emily yawns, appearing suddenly on my left. "Has it really been that long?"

"Actually It's only been-" Spencer starts as he approaches along with the other members of the team.

Thirty eight hours. Thirty eight hours without a break. But JJ's right. It's more than worth it.

"Okay team." Hotch cuts Spencer off before he could finish, setting a hand on his shoulder to silence him. "Good work. Bring that same energy back on Monday. Crime dosent stop so we will be working twice as hard then for this weekend off. Get some sleep." Everyone gives an exhausted cheer at the thought of the extra hours we could spend sleeping.

I bring my hand up to my mouth as I fail to stifle another yawn. Despite it being early in the morning, I can't wait to sleep again. We couldn't have solved this case at a better time, my head had started to ache about three hours ago and with each pulse of someone's voice the pain only intensifies. By now I'm on the verge of tears.

Every time someone speaks I force myself to blink, trying to hide my discomfort long enough to get to my apartment.

"Sunshine, you riding back to Quantico with us?" Derek nudges my side, causing me to flinch.

"Uh... no." I force myself to speak. "I need... I need to get a cab. My car... I haven't.. I'll just-" I try to hide a yawn behind my hand. "I'll just call one from here."

"Are you sure you should be going alone right now?" He asks, brows furrowed in skepticism.

I mirror his expression. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you look like you might actually pass out!" He teases, his smile so bright it pains me.

Oh god please Derek, stop talking.

"I'll be fine." I wave him off pulling out my phone to call a car. "How else would I get home? Can't live here in the precinct unfortunately." Of course I would rather travel with someone when I am so tired, Penelope lives close, but she isn't here with us at the police precinct. Even if she was, I wouldn't want to ride with her in my state. The tenacity of her voice might actually kill me right now.

"Nah come on, seriously." Derek snatches my phone from my hand, forcing me to look up at him. "Share a ride with Spencer, he lives near you. Besides that boy shouldn't drive under normal circumstances, so especially not now." He laughs tiredly at his own joke.

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath as I bow my head to mask it. At this point I'm willing to do anything to get him to stop speaking so loudly.

"Hey Spence?" I look over Dereks shoulder at the man, who at the moment can barely keep his eyes open.

But at my voice he seems to wake up, almost like throwing a bucket of ice water on a tired man. He looks alert, surprised, and even confused as he gives me a questioning look.

"Hmm?" Spencer questions as I snatch my phone back from Derek.

"Would you... maybe.. share a cab with me?" I ask, bracing for the rejection.

"A cab? A cab with... with you?" His dark eyes flickering down to me, something soft yet unreadable behind them.

Huh. He doesn't sound disgusted or annoyed.

"Yeah?" I message the driver for the car, telling him there will be two stops. "You live around where I do, right?"

Derek swinging an arm over his shoulder to roughly bring him closer to us. "Come on, kid." He shakes him. "Keep a girl company. Besides you both don't have cars at base."

And with that logic Spencer nods, lazily leading me past the swarm of officers and media personnel who are desperately trying to get photos of the children reuniting with their families.

It's such a private moment we were blessed a glimpse of. And these reporters are trying to exploit that. This is the absolute last things these families need after going through something so traumatic. The media reporters on the other hand, have no shame. They are popping up in windows, desperately snapping random pictures in the split second it takes for an officer to walk out the door hoping they caught shadows of the scene inside. They are vultures circling... because nothing sells like a devastating story with a happy ending.

Spencer and I say our final goodbyes to the rest of the team as they pile into each of the two government issued suv's, heading back to bureau to get their vehicles before they are able to go home.

Once the cab pulled up, both Spencer and I reach for the door handle first. Our fingers brushing against each others in the briefest of touches. A pleasant warmth spreads through my arm at the contact, and I suppose I'm too tired to pull away.

Spencer however pulls his hand away immediately. "Sorry!" He practically yells which causes me to wince.

"It's okay!" I assure, not wanting him to freak out. "It's okay."

He opens the back door, holding it open for me. "Okay."

"Thank you, Spencer." I smile as I get into the back seat of the cab. Watching as he gently closes the door before shuffling to the other side of the vehicle to get in.

Even though he hasn't slept in over forty hours he somehow still manages to be a gentleman.

Awe.

Mumbling my address to the driver before Spencer does the same. His address is vaguely familiar, only a few buildings down from mine.

I don't know how I hadn't known that until now.

For the first few moments the ride is silent, both of us being content with the quiet. That is until we both begin fighting off sleep, the steady lull of tires on the road, the warmth of the cab, and the typically uncomfortable seats feeling like memory foam trying to soothe us into falling asleep.

"Are you doing okay?" Spencer whispers after a few blocks.

I barely glance his way before nodding. "Mmhm."

He doesn't seem to be content with that answer. No doubt he's noticed how odd I've been acting the past few hours, but he doesn't push it. Instead he draws a sigh.

"Why did they put a smiling balloon at the abduction points?" He asks hazily, his voice muffled and barely audible.

I shrug. "I dunno."

"What were they going to do with the kids?"

I shrug again. "I dunno."

"Why did they shoot Rosalyn?"

I shrug a third time. "I dunno."

I finally glance his way when I hear his stifled chuckle. His lips lazily turned into a smile at my repeating responses.

Cute.

My stomach twists with butterflies that I'm too tired to kill.

"I guess we'll never know, Lette." He breathes the sentence out softly.

"Lette?" I ask, with a weak laugh as I blow some of hair out of my face.

"'I dunno.'" He shrugs in a mocking tone. Which only makes me laugh harder.

The laughter is contagious because soon he is laughing right along with me, it's soft and driven by our sleepy daze but somehow that just makes things even funnier.

Our delirious giggles filling the air, and just when we begin to settle down it starts up again. Both fueling each others delirium.

It's nice to hear him laugh.

"'Lette.' Lett-ee" I repeat as he looks my way. His eyes so dark I can hardly distinguish his irises from pupils. His eyes are mesmerizing. "I kind of like it."

"Yay," A hazy cheer echoes his chest, his smile bright as he looks at me like I just hung the stars.

Or maybe I'm just exhausted and making that up. He turns away so quickly I don't get a chance to clarify what my sleep deprived brain saw.

All I know is I liked being the one he looked at.

We find ourselves going silent again, he closes his eyes leaning his head back against the headrest on his seat giving me a full view of his surprisingly sharp jawline. How have I never— large hand running through his hair, pushing it back away from his face. He doesn't even look real. His cheeks hued pink contrasting the rest of his skin, lips plush and slightly parted, lashes fluttering against his skin.

No. No. No.

I find myself staring longer than I should have. Pulling my gaze away from him I mimic his laid back posture. Letting my eyes close.

Both of us breathing a content sigh.

I'm glad Derek forced Spencer and I to ride together, because if it wasn't for his presence I definitely would have fallen asleep by now.

"Hey lady." The driver slides the smudged plastic divider open after he had parked. His loud voice causing both Spencer and I to jump. "We're at your stop."

I nod, pulling some cash out of my wallet, passing it through to the divider. "That's for his fare too." I mumble as I open my door.

"Nicolette you don't have to." Spencer's voice is even quieter as he blinks trying to keep himself awake. "Do you want me to walk-"

"No, I'll be okay. But thank you." He draws a genuine smile from me. "Get some sleep, Spence."

"You too, Lette." He smiles back. Reluctantly settling back into his seat after I insisted he doesn't waste the energy walking me up to my apartment. That dosent stop him from having the cab stall as he watches through the window for me to safely make it inside the building. I give him a wave before I close the door.

Sleep never came so easily. The last thing I remember is pulling on my noise canceling headphones and falling onto my bed, not even bothering to change my clothes before closing my eyes.
••••

I don't know where I am. I've been running for what feels like an eternity, but I'm getting nowhere. The slightest hint at progress slams me straight back to where I started.

I don't understand.

"Nicolette?" Aaron's familiar voice echos around me, coming from everywhere at once. "Nicolette! I-I need you to come towards me."

I turn around, searching in vain for the man. My heart beginning to race as I keep catching onto the end of his voice, never having a firm grasp on it as I spin and reach for it.

I try to call out to him for help, needing a guide from the endlessness. But my voice doesn't come. Instead it's pain. The sharpness has me falling to my knees, clutching at my throat in response.

I don't understand.

"Sweetie." Aaron's voice again. This time his voice is directed behind me. I whip my gaze over my shoulder to see his figure standing a few hundred yards away. "We need to get you out of here."

Suddenly a light, blinding and consuming. I can feel the heat of the flames before I ever see them.

My breath catches. I should have known this was coming.

The inferno.

My lungs filled with hot smoke. My breathing grows faster trying to fight against the smoke as my heartbeat threatens to beat from my chest. My gate waivers as I desperately try to reach Aaron, trying to reach safety, the flames abruptly snuffing out around him.

The faster I run, the less I can breathe. The closer I get, the hotter the flames burn.

My eyes water from the smoke, and the pain becomes even more intense. The white hot burning of my skin making me collapse just out of reach of Aaron.

"Nicolette?" He calls, holding a hand out to me.

I extend my arm, desperately trying to grab ahold of his hand as I silently cry out in agony.

So close... almost there...

As soon as he grabs my hand it all goes away. The pain. The flames. The fear.

Only for the latter to come back tenfold when he speaks.

This isn't Aaron anymore.

"Welcome back, Doll." His familiar threatening voice is velvety smooth, paralyzing me with a terror so deep that I yearn to be thrown back to the mercy of the fire.

How did he find me? Why is he here? How... why.. what is he... what is me going to make me do?

I'm so scared. I'm so confused.

"Do you understand why this is happening to you?" Icy blue eyes chilling my bones as he forces me to hold his gaze. "Hm?"

I try to speak again trying to appease him terrified of the alternative. But my voice is still caught in my throat, the burning pain in my vocal cords making my legs weak.

In a blink I'm on my knees, having been kicked in the shin from not having answered him.

I'm choking on black smoke, my eyes burning with tears spilling down my cheeks but still he forces eye contact.

Icy eyes melting into raging oceans, his anger evident and deadly.

"Maybe you'll do what I ask next time, yeah?" His voice steady and condescending, each syllable hinting at his vexation. "No, no you silly lil' thing I'm not being cruel, I'm just teaching you how the real world works. And you'll do better for us tomorrow, right? Good I know you will."

His words are replayed, continuing on despite my inability to respond in anyway.

"You are going to do everything I say."

I find myself trying to scramble away from him, desperately rearing back to crawl even a few inches farther.

But I didn't get far.

But it is no use. He is in control.

He is in complete control of me.

"No! N-No! Please— no!" I wake up in hysterics. Not even noticing my hand hooking under my noise canceling headphones and throwing them across the room. Gasps and broken pleas escaping my sore throat. Hot tears slip down my cheeks, trying to force wheezing breaths into my tight lungs.

Flinging the blankets off of the bed, feigning the corrupting press of his fingertips along my skin.

As my eyes dart around my bedroom— shame replacing the dread of the nightmare.

I pull my knees up to my chest, hugging my body tightly as if that will protect me.

I'm okay.

It wasn't real.

The words were pulled from real memories... but still it wasn't real.

He wasn't here.

I cannot stop the silent tears from streaming down my face and neck. My breath hitching and hiccuping as I try to calm myself down.

I force myself to take short deep breaths, ignoring the burning in my lungs as I hold it. Soon my breathing becomes relaxed, still painful but I'm not hyperventilating anymore.

But my peace is short lived as my burner phone begins to vibrate, the buzzing cutting through the air nearly making me jump out of my skin.

My hands tremble as I fish it from my pocket, a shaking breath leaving my chest as I answer the call. Knowing if it goes ignored this wont be contained in nightmares.

"You're taking a few days off." They start as soon as I hold the phone to my ear. Clicking his tongue when he notices my uneven breathing and periodic sniffles. "Oo, are you crying, my pet?"

My skin crawls. Hurriedly I bring my hands up to my face, wiping at my cheeks and eyes before clearing my throat to try to conceal the evidence. Despite it, my voice is gruff and broken. "What.. wh-what do you need me for?"