Chapter 8

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⚠️TW⚠️: Torture

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Rossi's POV:

I haven't seen Aaron so distraught since what happened to Haley. He has been constantly pacing back and forth in the conference room and he was hardly even making small talk, he only spoke if it was about Y/N. The team was distraught too, especially Garcia. I walked into the Bat Den not long ago to find her crying and I realised that everyone was so focused on supporting Aaron that we had forgotten to support the girl who had no idea where her best friend was. 

Penelope's POV:

I don't think I can handle not being able to find her any longer. This girl is my rock; I can't keep my head level without her. Derek has been trying his best to cheer me up, but for some new and weird reason, for the first time, it isn't working. I was looking at a picture of her and I that I had sitting on my desk amongst many others. It was my favourite though, probably because we were both blind drunk at the time, but it made me smile every time. Hotch had filled us in on her past with her parents and it had genuinely shocked us all. I had 

looked into it a little bit more to see if anything could help us find her but as we had expected, my search gave us nothing.

Hotch's POV:

My phone began to ring in my pocket and seeing that it was Jessica, I picked up. I hadn't answered the phone in 24 hours unless it was the team, nor had I called anyone other than the team so when Jessica's concerned tone was thick with her words, I realised I hadn't organised how long Jessica would be needing to stay and I hadn't spoken to my son since yesterday. "Aaron, where are you? What is going on and why haven't you called?"

"I'm sorry, I really am. Would you be able to bring Jack to the bureau with a packed bag? I'm going to be here for a while and I know you have your trip this weekend so he's going to have to stay here. I will tell you when you get here."

"Okay, fine. Is everything alright?" Now she was really concerned.

"I will explain soon." and with that, I hung up. An hour later, Jessica and Jack walked into my office. "Hey, Buddy!" I exclaimed as Jack came running to me. I pulled him into my lap and hugged him tightly.

"Hey, Daddy." He whispered back in my ear.

"I need to talk to Aunt Jessica for a moment so why don't you go find Spencer." He simply nodded his head and ran off, leaving the room in a deafening silence.

"Aaron, what is going on, you looked like you haven't slept and..." she paused for a second, examining my features, "Have you been crying?" Her expression was soft and I looked down at my desk, trying to compose myself.

"Y/N has been kidnapped," I said looking back up at her, answering all her questions, directly and indirectly. She knew I didn't want to talk further about it and she didn't press me for more information, she simply said "If you need anything, I am happy to help," before dropping Jack's bag on the couch and leaving my office. I decided to ring Garcia to see if she could watch Jack while we worked, considering her office was probably the only place in the Bureau where a child could have fun. She happily agreed and I told Jack that Garcia had something for him and he ran out of the bullpen as fast as he could.

I rejoined the rest of the team in the conference room to find them coming up with a theory. They were trying to figure out why he would stalk her when Reid noticed something in a photo. "Do you guys see that?" he exclaimed in a somewhat excited way, pointing at some tiny, slightly lighter blur. He called Garcia before anyone could answer, "Garcia, we need you in here." She was in the room in a matter of seconds.

"What can I do for you my fine, furry friends?" Garcia had been trying to stay as positive as she could, but the streaks in her makeup showed she wasn't okay. We all silently agreed not to tell her, she already had a lot to worry about, and her makeup didn't need to be added to the list.

"Can you zoom in right here and enhance it, I think there is a message there," Reid instructed, pointing at the spot on the photo. Garcia did exactly that and sure enough, Reid was right.

Glad to see you can finally enjoy your birthday.

This guy knew about her past.

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My entire body hurts, and I think he broke a few ribs considering it hurt to breathe. Michael hadn't come back into the room in 8 hours but I could hear him pacing in the next room every so often. I was about to try and fall asleep when the door flew open and he walked in, a knife in hand and his eyes were filled with rage. "I am finally going to make you scream" the anger on his face now mixed with determination. He approached me slowly, stopping and standing next to my right leg. "I have been waiting for this day for a very long time now," he placed the tip of the blade against the side of my lower leg, pressing it into my skin slightly, drawing a small amount of blood. He stared at me and stayed like that for about 15 seconds before he dug the knife in deeper and slowly dragged the knife up my leg. I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from screaming, however, I couldn't stop my face from contorting in pain or my leg from thrashing against the restraints and blade, probably making the cut a jagged one.

The blood pouring out of my leg supplied the only warmth I had felt in hours and I was relieved by it. The blade stopped moving upwards once it got to my hip and I let go of the breath I was holding. However, Michael moved close to my face, resting the bloody knife against my cheek. "Scream or I will kill you before your little FBI friends can find you."

"And why would I give you the satisfaction?" I taunted.

"Oh, so you want to die?"

"You won't kill me"

"Why not, huh? Profile me."

"You have moved across the world to haunt me all over again. You have kidnapped me so you can finally get your payback, but killing me after only having me hostage for a day would be a waste of your time and efforts, and you wouldn't be satisfied with the lack of revenge. I do believe that you want to kill me but, normally, guys like you build up their courage by practising and killing other people that remind them of their object of desire before finally going after their end game, but because you skipped all that and went straight for me, it tells me that you want to prolong my torture, keeping me for yourself and finally killing me once you feel satisfied." 

We both knew I was right and whatever anger he felt, he hid his expression of it well, but then everything happened in slow motion. I watched him as he looked at my bleeding leg, raised the knife and brought it down to my leg in one swift, accurate motion and I couldn't stop myself from screaming as the blade sunk deep into my lower leg. He looked into my eyes again, smiling from ear to ear, "You know what Y/N, you are right. I do want to torture you," he pulled out the knife and raised it above his head again before stabbing my leg once again, this time in my outer thigh, "And I am going to enjoy every second of it, every scream, every slice, and every stab."

Maybe I had spoken too soon. 

Maybe I underestimated how far he would go.

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe I wasn't going to be okay.

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