∗ ࣪ ˖༺ violent delights ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

do the right thing

the hunt for bosola had become an all-consuming fire, the kind that leaves everything in ashes when it's done. garcia found a string of financial transactions, large sums moving from judge schuller's account to some third party, then nothing. schuller had wiped himself clean and signed everything over to a victim support group like he was preparing for his endgame. or maybe just the end.

i pressed schuller hard, maybe too hard, but it worked. eventually, he gave up the name of his final victim: dan patton, the drunk who killed his wife. when we found patton's body, the scene was gruesome. his motel room was destroyed—furniture upturned, blood staining the walls. and there he was, his body beaten to a pulp. the brutality of it turned my stomach, and all i could think was, this is what justice looks like to him. 

but patton wasn't bosola's final mark. hotch and emily discovered it—schuller himself was next. bosola wasn't done, and neither were we. we were prepping to move schuller for his safety when everything fell apart.

the team rushed him outside. morgan, jj, and i flanked him as the press swarmed, cameras flashing in our faces like a swarm of insects. morgan's phone rang, pulling him back, leaving me and jj to handle the crowd. schuller, handcuffed and stone-faced, moved through the chaos with us. and then, he said it. "i lied." i barely caught the words at first. "what?"

but before i could press him, a gunshot rang out. time was fractured. everything exploded into pure chaos. the scream of the crowd, the blur of bodies scattering, the crack of the bullet—it all became a whirl of sound and motion. i felt the spray of blood before i saw it. hot and thick, it splattered across my face. the judge crumpled at my feet, lifeless.

i reached for my gun instinctively, scanning the crowd, but all i could see were faces, screaming, running, panicked. the adrenaline hit me hard, my heart pounding so fast i thought it might burst. i was trained for this, for high-pressure moments, but this was different. my mind raced, trying to process everything at once, but it felt like the world had narrowed down to this one chaotic moment. schuller, dead at my feet. bosola, escaping without a trace.

the blood kept spreading across the pavement, pooling around schuller's body. i couldn't tear my eyes away. his chest heaved once, a final, futile breath, and then nothing. something small and shiny glinted in his hand. i knelt, my fingers brushing the cold metal of a gold locket. emma's picture inside, staring up at me.

the world seemed to blur, the sounds of the team shouting orders fading into the background as i wiped the blood from my face. my hands trembled, though i didn't feel it. bosola was gone, and schuller—our key to finding him—was dead.

back at the field office, i sat alone, wiping my face with a damp rag. the weight of everything felt like a heavy, crushing silence pressing down on me. failure. that's what it felt like, the bitter taste of defeat gnawing at my gut. schuller had been right there, and bosola had killed him right in front of us.

hotch approached me quietly. i hadn't even noticed him at first, my mind lost in the mess of everything. "we leave tomorrow morning," he said, his voice soft, not pushing. "do you need a ride to the hotel?" i shook my head, trying to muster a smile, but it felt empty. "no, thanks, though."

he nodded, his understanding silence somehow making it feel worse. "get some rest." as he walked away, i pulled out my phone, needing some kind of connection, something outside of this mess. i texted hannah: joe's pizza? i needed something normal, a grounding force. she replied almost immediately: coming now to pick you up :)

a small, weak smile crept onto my face. hannah. my sister had always had a way of pulling me out of the dark, even when she didn't realize it. when she pulled up, glowing with excitement because she'd just gotten her license, i couldn't help but smile. "how was your case?" she asked, her eyes flicking to me from the road, though i could see her nervous energy behind the wheel.

"this one was bad. he got away in the end." "i'm sorry, mads." she kept her voice soft and understanding, but then she chuckled as she took a turn too wide, a rookie move that made me smile. the evening with her was a blur of pizza, laughter, and lightness. 

"when do you leave again?" hannah asked after a moment."tomorrow morning, we fly out early." i answered, taking a drink. "tell me about them," hannah said, her voice lighter now, trying to shift the mood. "your team—are they nice?" i smiled slightly, thinking about them. "you remember david rossi, dad's old friend from the bureau? he's our senior agent. there's emily prentiss, she used to be with me at interpol, she's tough but she's a good friend. and there's a few others, spencer, penelope, derek, and hotch."

 "hotch?" hannah asked with a grin. "is that a nickname or something?" i laughed, shaking my head. "yeah, it's what everyone calls him. he's our unit chief. he's really great, he's dealing with a lot right now though. i feel bad, we can't help him." i explain. hannah smiles and takes a bite of pizza. "maybe i'll have to meet them all someday." we sat in the restaurant for hours, ordering pizza and talking about everything and nothing. i found herself telling hannah about the team, the cases, and my new apartment. it felt good to talk about something other than the endless chase for bosola. as the night wound down, hannah drove me back to my hotel. "text me when you get home." i said, slipping out of the car. hannah gave me a quick smile and a thumbs-up before driving off.

back at the hotel, i tried to get into my room, but my keycard refused to work. typical. as i stared at the blinking red light, hotch appeared. of all people. he looked tired, more human than i'd ever seen him, in a white t-shirt and sweat pants, far from his usual suit and tie. "everything alright?"

"yeah, just my key not working and the elevator ride back down is so long." i tried to laugh it off, but i was bone-tired, and my smile felt brittle. he hesitated. "do you want some company?" i blinked, surprised. "you're already in bed and everything." i said, caught off guard by the gentleness in his voice. "i don't mind," he said, firm but soft. "it'll give me something else to think about besides the boston reaper case."

i nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. "okay." the ride down in the elevator was quiet, but not awkward. maybe just heavy. i kept thinking about what hannah said, how the team was my family now. and it was true, but still, i felt a little lost next to hotch. like i didn't know where i fit.

when we reached the lobby, it was empty. "you've got to be kidding me." i muttered, scanning the desk. hotch stepped up and pressed the bell. nothing. after a moment, he pressed it again, but still no one. i tried to suppress a laugh, but when hotch pressed it a third time, i couldn't help but grin. just as the receptionist appeared, looking flustered, hotch stepped back, looking a little guilty. 

with my new keycard in hand, we headed back upstairs, my eyes heavy. "i'm going to get one of those bells for the office," hotch mused. "stick it in rossi's office, would be a great addition to pester him with." i laughed softly. "or morgan." i add. we reached our floor, and as we stood in front of our respective rooms, i glanced over at hotch. "thanks for coming down with me." i said, feeling a bit awkward but grateful. "anytime," hotch replied, his voice soft. "goodnight, madelyn." 

i watched him disappear into his room, my thoughts swirling in a mess of exhaustion and something else i couldn't quite name.