Disclaimer: I only own my imagination!

No Such Thing.

The night air was cold on her skin as the team stepped out of their vehicles. Soft grass squished under her feet and she pulled her gun out, as did the others.

This was the house of Mark Hubbell, the narcissistic serial killer they'd been after for days. He stalked his victims every move before somehow luring them into his car and kidnapping them. He'd torture them for hours before finally shooting them at point blank range. All the victims fit his profile, average women, red hair, and air of respectability... rare but important. Collectible.

He kept the woman's purse... and everything but her wallet. Probably a sign of remorse- wallets held pictures and personalized things. He liked the memories that came with the women, not the guilt.

Looking at his large house, and knowing what was inside made Emily shiver. She glanced around, but nobody seemed to notice. The team was gathered up ahead, whispering quiet instructions. She joined them silently, positioning herself between Morgan and Reid.

"Reid, Prentiss and I will take the back door, Hotch, JJ and Morgan take the front." Rossi was saying mutedly, each team member throwing the odd anxious glance towards the oddly expansive house.

"Why exactly are we going in if we don't have police with us?" JJ asked and Emily didn't miss the worried tone enlaced with her voice. Maybe that's what becoming a mother does to you.

Hotch sighed. "We don't have a choice, if we go with his MO, he'll be killing her tonight, possibly now." His voice was full of something Emily couldn't decipher, but she could pick apart the worry, anxiety and possible annoyance.

They all let the realization settle upon them, exchanging worried glances. She let her gaze focus on Reid for a split second, noticing the uncomfortable look on his already stressed face.

But she threw that thought to the back of her head, remembering she needed to stay alert. Hotch nodded and the team split up, eager to get this done and over with.

She followed Rossi silently, Reid staying behind her. It was almost always this way, somehow she felt the need to protect him. Look at what happened the last time he went off in the dark; got himself frickin kidnapped. So she was always in the front, except the times he wouldn't let her be. He was stubborn.

The wind howled and whipped her hair backwards as she walked, gun drawn, aiming at nothing, just the wall of the house. They were close to the back now, and she couldn't see Hotch, JJ or Morgan anymore.

The woods that surrounded the house formed an eerie boundary, forcing unease to bubble up inside her. That familiar feeling was building up in her gut, and despite her efforts, it was still growing. The fear mixed with anxiety and anticipation was rolling in her stomach and making her feel slightly ill.

But it was part of the job and they all knew it. So she followed on in their crouched steps, realizing she was dangerously far from focused.

Rossi looked back at her, the shadows flowing over his face. He motioned to her and Reid, hard to see in the darkness, but she got the gist of it. I'll go in first, you and Reid follow. Then split up and clear the house.

Prentiss took one last shaky breath before she stepped onto the back porch, carefully silent. She could sense Reid behind her, maybe just an inch away. Some emotion rose in her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She was probably just letting her over protectiveness shine through, and it felt good knowing he was safe beside her.

She had let her thoughts travel again and she internally scolded herself. But there wasn't much time, as Rossi had reached the door.

He turned the brass knob slowly, and Emily wasn't surprised when it opened easily. Mark Hubbell was a narcissist, he didn't think anyone would get into his house, after all in his mind, he was perfect. The door creaked open in the night, and with one quick nod they entered, guns aimed, breath forced.

The split up on instinct, no time for thought. Emily was on auto-pilot as she checked the kitchen, subconsciously noticing Rossi turn into the living room, and Reid disappear up the stairs. The house was cluttered, but narcissistic, psychotic touches were everywhere. The plaques on the wall had expensive frames and in some places, despite the clutter around them, books were stacked perfectly.

Once the kitchen and hallway were cleared, she retraced her steps, but didn't find any of her teammates. This was a big house though, with an adjoining guest house plus a separate barn. He could be anywhere.

She followed her gut and turned down another hallway, seeing a bathroom at the end. She almost jumped into the room but saw it was empty and began to walk back out, when she heard a metallic squeaking. Shower curtains.

Her eyes widened instantly and she whipped around to see Mark Hubbell standing in the shower, crowbar in hand, a maniacal smile plastered to his already demonic face. She raised her shaky gun and pulled the trigger, just as he ducked out of the way.

Shower tile flew through the air, along with the large bang, but no blood. As the air cleared she saw Hubbell stand back up, anger flashing in his eyes. Before she could even move, he swung the crowbar to her head and blackness consumed her.

XXX

Reid heard the gunshot and spun around, his body freezing over. Fear took hold of him and he ran back towards where he had come from, completely ignoring the rest of his search. Someone was in danger.

Logically speaking, it was most likely the unsub, but a small part of him didn't care about the statistics. He had the compulsive need to know if his team was safe, and in that moment he let it take over.

His footsteps echoed in the stuffy, dimly lit hallway as he almost scampered along it, completely on edge. His thoughts were going a million miles an hour, which technically was pretty slow when you thought about it so more like a trillion. Who had been shot? Who had been the shooter?

For some reasons the images in his head formed Emily Prentiss and JJ, but he couldn't quite comprehend why. Most likely because him and Prentiss had been held hostage not too long ago, and he still blamed himself. But he had reason to, he had been a coward. And he still had flashbacks about his kidnapping... he had been a coward then too.

He wasn't allowing that to happen this time, so he sped up his somehow awkward jog down the stairs he had so recently ascended, trying to make as little noise as possible. His gun was still aimed ahead of him, and his finger twitched menacingly on the trigger. Nobody hurt his family.

Once at the bottom of the steps, he wasn't sure where to go and yet he still wandered ahead, unable to stay still. The floorboard creaked under him, like something out of a horror movie. The house was still dark and it unnerved him- his irrational fear of the dark was unprecedented, but controlling.

A flash of movement caught his eyes, and his lightening fast reflexes aimed his weapon immediately, his heart feeling like it was hit by lightening. But his eyes adjusted as he saw Morgan's figure focus in his vision, and he sighed with relief. He was mimicked by the other man who looked just as 'freaked out' or frantic as he was.

Everybody heard that shot. But Reid took courage in the fact that one of his friends was safe. Now for the others.

Morgan nodded to him and they continued on, coming to a hallway. For a split second he considered splitting up, but remembering the last time he did that on a serial killers property, thought better of it. He moved in front of Derek, taking the lead for the first time on a while. As a profiler he could sense the other man's reluctance, but ignored it.

The hallway was mostly empty, a few light fixtures scattered the walls along with plaques and awards. Classic narcissistic behaviour.

Near the end of the hallway he saw an opening to what looked like a study or library- he couldn't be sure. After glancing into the doorway he looked back at Morgan for support and saw the same intentions in his eyes. So he continued on cautiously, finally making it to the wooden door.

It swung open when he pushed it, and he almost ran into the room, his gun pointed ahead, no doubt a close to terrified look on his face. They shouldn't have done this without cops. Not at all.

Morgan was close behind him as he rushed into the study, and they whipped their heads around as the searched, scared beyond their wits. The shelves of books where tall and dusty, most likely not used in a long time. You don't have time to read when you're a serial killer.

Reid was almost done searching when he heard the rough voice behind him. "Hello again Dr. Reid."

He spun on his heels, terror fuelling his heart. But it almost stopped when he saw a barely conscious Emily Prentiss in Mark Hubbell's arms.

The man looked absolutely maniacal, nothing like when Reid had previously interviewed him earlier in the week. His eyes were glassed over, as if in a trance and his lips curved into a sinister smile. He loved this part, because he loved power and the infliction of fear that came along with it. This was his drug.

"Put her down." Reid commanded, but knew he was getting nowhere. This man wouldn't do anything he said, whether he wanted to or not. It was below him.

Hubbell chuckled. "Not in your wildest dreams. This is fun." It was then that Spencer noticed the gun trained on Emily's head. How had he missed that?

He allowed himself a millisecond to inspect her, and saw the blood dripping down her scalp, staining her ivory skin. Her eyes were drifting open and closed, her weight almost fully supported by the unsub. The thought made Reid sick. His best friend was being held so close by someone so twisted and damaged...

His gun was now aimed directly at Hubbell's head, which had now cocked to the side speculatively.

"You don't like this situation do you Reid? It's uncomfortable for you... almost sickening." Hubbell muttered insanely, only fuelling the anger inside of Reid. But if he shot, so would the unsub. And then Emily would be gone.

"You're absolutely right. Now put her down." Came Morgan's voice from behind him, but he didn't move the slightest. His vision noticed the other criminologist beside him, gun also clocked at the man's sinister eyes.

"No thank you, Detective Morgan. I'm in charge here. You make a wrong move and Detective Prentiss is gone for good. You don't want that do you? I know you value your team's lives..." Hubbell ranted eerily, making Reid's stomach roll.

"So I'm going to tell you what to do now boys." Hubbell continued. "Put your guns down, straight on the floor, right now."

"No." Reid said without hesitation. There was no way in hell.

"Well then, Emily dies I guess." Hubbell said crazily. But Reid brain was now racing beyond belief.

This wasn't just a serial killer. No, this was much more. He had said Emily. Emily. They never mentioned her name. And wasn't it just convenient that while they're in town another serial killer pops up on their radar. This wasn't a coincidence. This was personal.

Reid looked at Morgan, fear clear in his eyes. But it was mirrored with the other agent, obvious that he had figured out the same thing. His brown eyes were now almost icy.

He looked back at the unsub furiously, on the brink of hysteria. There was no way out. No frickin way out. They were screwed. Emily was not getting hurt on his watch.

"Say goodbye." Hubbell whispered, pushing Prentiss's own gun into her forehead. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Until Reid let his own weapon clatter to the floor.

Off to a good start? It's my first Criminal Minds fic, so PLEASE review! :D 3