Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.

Iphigenia

The relationship between fathers and daughters has played a prominent role in humanity's collective consciousness ever since its first stirring in the dark ages. According to various ancient texts, Agamemnon, leader of the Achaean troops which fought against Troy, sacrificed his eldest daughter Iphigenia in order to change the winds which held the Greek fleet trapped in the bay of Aulis.

Just a single sheet of paper. Only a couple of paragraphs. A few hundred words. Yet enough to turn his world upside down. David Rossi read the text again. Paused in the middle. Started at the beginning once more. Closed his eyes, opened them, blinked. No matter how often or in which manner he reread the witness statement, its meaning didn't change. He couldn't believe it.

"St. Michael's denies everything, of course. They say the nurse merely tries to divert attention from her deeds. An exhumation would surely put an end to that…" Detective Anderson, Chicago PD, looked at the profiler expectantly. He had come all the way to Virginia to inform the famous FBI profiler in person. Some things just couldn't be told over the phone.

The agent swallowed hard. "You've got my permission", he finally said. "But wait till I'm on site."

Rossi's first instinct was to grab his ready bag, hand in a request for time off and head to the airport as soon as possible without telling anyone what was going on. This was his personal business after all, wasn't it? "Just like the Galen case had been your personal business, hadn't it?", a small voice in the back of his mind piped up. The agent tried to shake it off, but the soft whisper kept insisting: "They stood by you back then and they helped you, didn't they?" The voice changed, grew in strength and morphed – first into Hotchner's characteristic way of speaking: "We're a team, David. That means we share things." Then it sounded like Prentiss, back in Indianapolis: "We care because you do."

Reluctantly, he took out his cell phone, dialed – and cut the connection. I need help. Three simple words. It couldn't be too difficult to utter them, could it? He dialed again, only to disconnect once more right after the first signal. A second voice, raspier, more venomous, spoke up in his mind, addressing the profiler with bitter irony: "Have you grown so weak over the years that you want someone to hold your hand while they open the grave?"

At this very moment his phone rang. Rossi recognized the number at once. Hotch. Of course. He was calling to find out why his colleague had cut the connection twice. And now? Not answering wasn't an option. Aaron would keep on trying and if that turned out fruitless, he would activate Garcia. At the drop of a hat he would have the whole team on his heels. Taking a deep breath, the senior agent answered the call.

"Rossi, it's Hotch. You tried to reach me. What's the matter?"

"Aaron, I… I…" It was ridiculous. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.

Thanks to Hotchner being the man he was, he didn't need to. "When and where, David?", was all the Unit Chief asked.