𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐘 | 𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧 𝙍𝙚𝙞𝙙

𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 at her distorted reflection in the polished metal doors of the elevator. Her stomach was turning circles as her mind raced. "What the hell are you doing?" The thought had followed her all morning. She stomped it down as her back straightened and the doors opened, revealing the usual rush of well-dressed, formative, and preoccupied people who were way too busy to notice her.

Her, in her eggshell blouse and charcoal skirt, dark hair hastily swept back over her shoulders, and with molasses coloured eyes that were wide as she searched the room behind the large glass doors. She gripped onto the tan leather strap of her bag held on her shoulder and pushed the doors open, catching the attention of a woman who was about to entirely pass her by.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her sleek blonde hair somehow glistening under the glaring fluorescents.

"I'm looking for..."

"Abigail," she heard from across the room, and both women turned. Abigail smiled.

"Derek," she greeted, her arms outstretched as he walked over and met her with a hug. "It's so good to see you."

"Yeah, you too," he grinned as he pulled back. He had barely changed from the last time Abigail had seen him, well over three years ago now. His smile was still full of mischievous cheek, and his dark eyes still sparkled with intrigue.

"You two know each other?" the blonde asked, adjusting the tawny toned folders she held in her arms.

Derek and Abigail both nodded as he answered. "Yeah, we go way back." His large hand rested against Abigail's shoulder. "Abigail, JJ," he gestured to the blonde, "JJ, Abigail."

"Hi," JJ beamed, extending her free hand to Abigail, who politely shook it. "Jennifer, but everyone calls me JJ."

Abigail shrugged. "Everyone just calls me Abigail."

Derek pointed towards the stairs that led to a platform at the back of the room. "Your brother's in his office," he explained.

"Oh," Abigail sighed gratefully, "thank you." She turned, giving JJ a kind smile. "Nice to meet you, JJ."

"You too," she responded, watching as the brunette made her way upstairs to knock on the first door. She turned to Derek. "Wait, Hotch's sister?"

Derek nodded. "Seriously JJ, you didn't know that?"

JJ shook her head. "Not at all."

"Come in," Abigail heard from behind the door and she swallowed all of her apprehension before turning the handle and opening it. Her eldest brother looked up from his desk and quickly stood. "Abbie." He circled his desk to pull her into a hug.

Her demeanour softened and she smiled. "Hey Aaron." Her arms wrapped around his middle, squeezing tightly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his hands now on her shoulders as she looked up to him. He had always towered over her.

"Can't a girl just want to see her big brother?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "A girl can, but you usually don't."

Her nose crinkled as she frowned. "Don't give me that," she ordered, "I'm not Sean."

"You're right," he commented, gesturing for her to take a seat on the couch behind her as he leaned against the cabinet under the window, "but you would've called. You're about to spring something on me."

Abigail dropped herself onto the dark cushions. "Damn profilers," she cursed, throwing her head back and sighing. "I need your help with a case."

His dark brows furrowed as he observed his sister. "What's going on?"

She bit at her inner cheek. "We tried a guy who had mountains of evidence against him, and he managed to get off scot-free."

"Abbie," Hotch pressed.

"It was all considered circumstantial," she rushed, barely stopping to take a breath. "He's kidnapped and murdered at least 20 women, girls, and majority still ruled not guilty, and then swayed the rest of the jury to unanimous because there was reasonable doubt. While he was in custody though, not a peep, everyone was safe, not a single person taken that fit his victimology. But now he's free and two women have already been reported missing."

"Abigail."

"Marcus Fletcher," Abbie finally admitted, inhaling a long breath.

Aaron blinked. "You were on the Fletcher trial?"

She nodded. "I really need your help with this." She wiped her sweating palms on the fabric of her skirt. "Either he's incredibly skilled at evading evidence or... or he really is innocent and there's still a killer out there."

"Abbie, if he's not part of this and you attempt to try him again, do you know what will happen to you?"

"Yeah, I know, big trouble, blah blah, whatever," she rolled her eyes, "but there is still someone out there murdering women in Houston, Aaron, whether it's him or not."

Hotch stared at her, running over the information in his mind. "Pass it onto JJ, I'll see what..." He was cut off by his little sister pulling a file from her shoulder-bag and shoving it into his hands. He opened it, flicking through the papers and seemingly unphased by the graphic crime scene photos. "How long were these women missing before they were found?"

"Between four and five days. Coroner says they were all killed after roughly 72 hours in captivity."

"And the two most recent?"

"Lisa Holden was last seen 4pm on Tuesday, and Marissa Kerne, 8am yesterday."

Hotch checked his watch. 12:47. "So we have just over 24 hours before the first will presumably be killed."

Abbie straightened. "Does that mean you're taking it?"

"Not without being invited on."

Abbie grabbed for her phone. "I know the lead detective, we spoke about it. I can get you on in five minutes."

Slowly, Hotch nodded. "I'll present it to the team." He walked over to his desk and opened the top drawer, taking out his keys and holding them out to her. "Go back to my place, we'll do what we can."

His baby sister frowned. "No, I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not."

"Aaron, I've been studying you and following you around since I was two years old," Abigail argued. "I can do this. Plus, I know more about this case than any file can tell you."

"I have no doubt that you're a capable lawyer and may even have a future in behavioural analysis," he folded his arms over his chest, the folder still clutched between his fingers. "But you're still my sister. It's not safe out there."

"It's not safe here!" she responded. "Don't you think, as my brother, it's better for me to be under your protection?"

"Abbie, if you get hurt, I'm responsible," he retorted. "I won't be able to focus on my job if I'm worrying about you."

"Do you care for your team?"

Hotch was taken aback, and for a moment, didn't foresee her incoming tactic. "Yes..."

"Do you worry about them?"

The penny dropped and Aaron sighed. "Yes."

"And are you still able to do your job while worrying about them?"

Aaron pointed a finger at his sister. "Abigail, we are not having this discussion."

"Yes, we are," she leaned forward, "and you're trying to deflect, because you know you can't argue your way out of this. I am making more than enough fair points here."

"Fine," Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, "fine. One case, but you are not allowed out in the field."

Abbie grinned. "Just you try and stop me."