This is my first time writing fan fiction for anything. I decided to start writing it from the outside in just until I get a feel for it. If I continue with the story I'll probably write from Spencer's POV as he is related to the main character in this story. Please leave reviews and give me guidance on where I should take the story as this is my first time I think I'll need all the help I can get.

When I woke up this morning I thought it was going to be like any other. Go shopping with my friends for some new summer clothes. After everything that's happened this year I think I needed a bit of normality especially after the way my Mom died. We still don't even know what happened. They told us that whoever killed her could come after us next. For nearly six months now I've been living in fear. Constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping every time someone knocks on the door or phone rings, double, triple checking that every door and window in the house is locked before I go to bed every night. It's becoming tiring, I just want to be able to live my life without worrying who is watching my dad, my friends or me.

Now I'm at the FBI where my Dad works because he's disappeared.

Earlier that day

Opening the front door laden with bags full of books I shouted out to my Dad "I'm home!.

No answer. He must be in his study he can never hear me when he's in there. I walked through the kitchen to go to his study I suddenly got this cold feeling. Something wasn't right I could feel it. I grabbed a knife from the block in the kitchen. I've been sleeping with one since Mom died. I raised it above my head ready to strike. My heart was pounding in my chest, I could feel it in my ears. I quieted my breathing just in case anybody was in there but if anybody was in there they would have already heard me coming through the door and calling out to Dad. I steadied myself, ready to face the worst as I opened the door.

His study was empty. Papers were strewn across the desk which was odd he always made sure to tidy up after he finished working. He didn't like case files lying about for anybody to get at them. I glanced over the papers. They were all closed cases that he just needed to finish writing up. He could never do things as he went along, he always had to do them when the case was fully closed. I just had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that something had happened to him, something bad. I looked around to see if anything was out of place. I couldn't see anything different.

I remember my Dad showing me something after Mom died. A secret compartment in one of the drawers in his desk. He told me that if anything ever happened to him to find it and hand it over to Aaron Hotcher in the FBI. So I went to that drawer and found the secret compartment. It was the bottom drawer on the left hand side, there was a false bottom. I emptied the drawer out and opened the false bottom. The files were still there. I flicked through them, I wanted to see what I was handing over to the FBI.

It was my Mom's case. Of course my Dad had a file on my mothers murder. Why wouldn't he? I always had a feeling that he would never give up, that he would go to the ends of the earth in order to find the bastard that done this to us and our family.

In the mean time I needed to find a number for this Hotcher guy. I remember them. I remember the whole team, they all came to the funeral because they all new my Dad. I think my Dad and Hotcher worked together at the FBI before they got their own teams.

My Mom was originally from Northern Ireland so usually you would have a wake with an open casket but the bastard who killed her left her so disfigured which was probably the nice way of putting it we had to have a closed casket. This meant that I never got to say goodbye to her properly. I hated that. I wanted to be able to see her, to make all real instead of some surreal dream that I had somehow slipped into.

I scrolled through the contacts in my phone. My hands shaking as I tried to find his number. Maybe I should just call Spence, he does work with him after all. We're cousins on my Dad's side, his mother is my aunt. She's paranoid schizophrenia . We've been to see her a few times, she doesn't know who I am. She'll only talk to either my Dad or Spencer. I wouldn't know what to do if that happened to my Dad. I've already seen him go to pieces over my mothers death and then helped him put himself back together. He actually told me once that if that ever happened to him he would what to die with dignity, knowing who everyone around him was and be able to say goodbye to everyone he cared about.

I found Spencer's number first. I steadied myself, ready to explain what had happened. I hit the call button and pressed the phone to my ear. As it rang I had another look around. The place was a mess, like someone had tore through it trying to find something, but nothing seem missing. I wonder if they were trying to find the files that I had in my hand right now.

He picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hello"

"Hey Spence it's Mary. I don't know if I should be even calling you but you're the only person that might understand what's going on. I think my Dad has gone missing. I just came home and found his office in a mess. It looks like someone went through everything trying to find something but nothing looks missing. He had a secret compartment in one of his drawers. He told me about it after Mom died. He said that if anything ever happened to him to give the files over to you guys. I just found them and one of them is my mothers case file on her murder. I don't know what he's up to but I just have this sick feeling that something's not right. I'm worried that maybe he found something that he shouldn't have and he's been kidnapped or even worse."

"Ok, where are you?" He was calm and collected, guess that comes from the job he does.

"I'm at the house. I left this morning around about 11am and came back at 4pm. When I left he was in his office working."

"Ok. I'm coming. Go into the kitchen and wait for me. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Ok. Spence?"

"Yes?"

"I'm scared. I can't go through losing another parent again. I don't want to be an orphan."

"I'm on my way and I'll do whatever I can to make sure that it will never happen."

"Thanks. See you soon."

"I'm on my way."

Then he hung up.

I didn't realise until I got off the phone that I was crying. Tears were streaming down my face. I blindly made my way into the kitchen clutching the files to clean myself off before Spence got here. I grabbed a piece of kitchen roll to wipe away the tears. All I could think off was my father lying dead somewhere probably because he went after the people who killed my mother. I hope and prayed with every fibre of my being that he was alive and that he would walk through that door at any minute but I just had this feeling in my gut that he was hurt, lying somewhere and I needed to find him. I was not going to let anybody take away what was left of my family not now not ever. If it's the last thing I do I will make sure that the bastard pays for what he does on way or another.