Airing Aaron (HotchxOC)

Cut-throat Cold.

Cold ran across the five digits of Alessandra as her hand hung out of the back of the car. The rear headlight was knocked out, and she was trying to get someone to notice her; she could hear them, cars, that is, but none of them seemed to notice her flailing hand. When the roads grew quiet, however, she felt something hit her hand, and carefully, she pulled it back in. Her eyes were still blurred, but Alessandra was sure something had cut her hand as something liquid was slowly trickling down her palm.

When the car stopped, however, Alessandra panicked and closed her eyes; her head fell limp as old tears were still drying on her face. The car door was slammed open and closed as someone left the car, and before more tears could stir, she took one calming breath and laid limp, closing her eyes as she was left on the floor. Her phone was tucked away, but she couldn't be sure anyone could find it, even the good guys, as she waited for the inevitable.

Back in Quantico, Hotch stood, pacing at the front of the conference room as he checked his watch and glanced at his phone again. The team were going to be there in under ten minutes. And the voicemail was only two minutes long at most. After calming himself down, Hotch opened the voicemail and played it before throwing his hand on the table and pacing as he waited for the automated voice to stop talking. 

'Voicemail message left at eleven-oh-three pm yesterday from a number ending 874 contact titled Alessandra Noble. Message saying "Help her. Don't let them hurt her, please. I can't see anything, it's blurry, but your voicemail says it's you, Hotch. I'm in the boot of a car. What if they hurt my Ella? Please help her. I love her. Keep her safe. Please, she is only little. She only likes the summer fruits baby food, and she is allergic to penicillin. Please, let her go to a good home. My family even. Help her, please. Don't let them get her. I don't know what's happening. This isn't normal. This isn't just assault. Please, help Ella. She likes to sleep with the blanket in her crib, and she needs her cuddly elephant toy when she feels sad or scared. She likes it when you sing mama to her. The tune doesn't matter. Ella has to be safe; please, don't let her die. I love her. She's everything I have. She is why I get out of bed in the morning. And she likes her milk warm, not hot or cold. And she doesn't like the powdered baby milk, so it has to be my milk, or it has to be the premade liquid milk. Ella likes to fall asleep in your arms, and she loves to be tickled. When she wakes up, she needs to be held for at least an hour, and she likes it when we play peekaboo. My fridge has ev..." Voicemail read at one-thirty-two today. Press 1 if you would like to replay it, press two if you want to keep it and press three if you want to delete it.'

The sounds of a busy road ran in the background the entire time as her hoarse tone carried over the receiver. The second her voice filled the line, Hotch knew she was scared. Months ago, when he found her crying in the snow, she was sad and worried, but her voice on the line was airy, rushed, and he knew she had to stop herself from sobbing as she spoke. Hotch had been with the FBI for years, and he knew the voice of a terrified mother. What made it worse was he also knew the voice of a woman who had already given up. Alessandra had accepted her fate already, and it wasn't even over yet. Even in her last minutes, she had only one thought, her daughter.

When JJ arrived, she was shortly followed by most of the team, and Hotch readied himself. Rossi wasn't there yet, but he lived furthest away. Garcia was late, but she left to get her laptop as tired eyes walked through like zombies into the conference room. His tears hadn't even been noticed until just as the team walked into the room and he turned his back to wipe them away, he blinked his eyes back to normal. When he faced them again, they glanced at his bloodshot eyes and assumed he too was exhausted. 'Take a seat. We can catch Rossi up when he gets here. Noble is missing. She was last seen at Club Golden, and footage has her dancing with a man who kissed her, and she pushed him away, but something happened because seconds later, she is seen almost falling to the floor despite not touching a drop of alcohol. I contacted some friends, and one got back. She was working on a case that had links to this type of attack. I don't know specifics, but it sounds like a terrorist cell had something that a lot of people want, and few people are privileged enough to know the location of it. She is one of them. He said that she had little contact with the public, so it's unlikely to be anything else, but he's sending it over to us all anyway,' Hotch informed them quickly, not allowing them to overcome the shock of whose disappearance they were solving.