missing piece, aaron hotchner

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏: 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲

TW: shootings, blood, wounds, gore

We had just received a 911 call from a department store in the city, we hadn't been able to get much information from the woman on the phone, but we heard screams and gunshots in the background. Thus, we were now pulling up outside said department store, bulletproof vests on, guns armed.

I hopped out behind Emily, we could already hear the cries from inside the building, which had been cornered off by the local police, and SWAT. There was so much turmoil, the whole ordeal had gathered lots of attention from the media and people passing by.

"There are seven floors, including the basement, so we will each take one. If you come across Desmond, then try to talk him down, but we all know how these often end- you have permission to shoot." Hotch commanded; his voice only just being heard over the surrounding ruckus.

We had been ordered to move in quickly, no one could get in contact with anyone on the inside, so we were more or less going in blind. That, however, didn't deter us, we spread out throughout the other officers and SWAT, moving into the building.

I was near the front of the group, so ended up on the sixth floor, Hotch was on the floor above, Spencer below, and the rest of the team on the others.

I got to the main entrance of the floor from the stairs, letting some SWAT members go ahead of me before following them. I could hear the piercing screams clearly now, this floor was a mixture of men's and children's clothing, with a small café in one corner.

I weaved my way through the rails of clothing, gasping quietly when I almost tripped over a body on the floor, I tried not to look at whoever it was, knowing that I couldn't afford to be sentimental right now. I had a job to do.

"I've got nothing on the first floor." JJ announced into the radio, her voice slightly static.

"HELP! HELP ME PLEASE!"

My head whipped up at the sound a voice coming from a few rails across from me, I shuffled closer to the noise, seeing a woman leaning up against some stacks of shoes, her face streamed with tears, her hand holding onto her lower hip.

"I'm here, you're gonna be okay." I spoke to her softly, as I crouched down next to her, talking into my mic, "We need medics to the sixth floor, at least one injured and at least one dead. Still searching."

"Someone is going to come and get you; do you know what happened?" I asked her slowly.

She breathed in shallowly, "This man, he just came up here. I was working behind the counter, and I heard some screaming, and then gunshots. He was crazy-" She let out a shuddered breath, "I tried to get out."

"Do you know how many people were on this floor?" I questioned, grabbing a fallen t-shirt from the floor, and wrapping it tightly around her wound.

She winced as the fabric increased the pressure, "There weren't many, this place is going out of business, so it's usually quite empty. I think most people managed to escape."