Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.

Abandon All Hope

Prologue

Emily wasn't in the habit of stopping by her team member's homes without permission. In fact, she was rarely in the habit of stopping by their homes even with permission. Something about it had always made her feel uncomfortable, and while she trusted each and every one of them implicitly, she'd never really made very good friends with any of them. It was her fault, rather than any of theirs. Her entire life, Emily had been hesitant to mix work with her personal life, and her time with the BAU was no different. It wasn't even that she didn't consider them family, because she did. There was no way that she couldn't consider them family, not after everything that they had been through together. She also considered them friends. It was more that she was afraid of bringing the horrors of their job into any intimate friendships she might have with them.

Perhaps that was the real fear, that her fellow team members wouldn't want to be close friends with her outside the job because she would remind them of the tragedies they faced day in and day out. It was irrational, because Emily saw how close Derek and Penelope were. Nothing came between their friendship. If anything, the hard quality of their work pushed them together, strengthening their care for one another. Even deep inside herself Emily was hesitant to admit how much she longed for that warmth in her life. Neither of her parents were very close to her, same with her sister and brother. There was little love between any of them, more of a business quality than anything. Emily had always thought that her parents viewed their children has a job, rather than a gift, and she'd grown afraid that her perception of them had tainted the way she viewed everyone else as well.

The cold snapped her out of her thoughts as Emily pushed her car door open. Shivering, she stepped out into the street, glancing around briefly before closing and locking the doors, arming the alarm. It was a cold night, more than cold truthfully, but thankfully not raining, or worse. If it hadn't been for J.J.'s request that Emily stop by that night, she likely wouldn't have even come out of her home again after being told that she could leave work for the day. As the cold wind bit at her, Emily hurried up J.J.'s walkway, all the way wishing for the warmth of her fireplace. Stepping into the glow of the porch light, Emily paused a moment before withdrawing a hand from her pocket. She'd forgotten her gloves in the car. Quickly, she glanced behind her despite the obvious futile idea of going back for the gloves when she was already at the door, and then as fast she could whipped her hand up to hit the door with her knuckles.

At first, she thought that perhaps she hadn't knocked hard enough. J.J. certainly should have answered the door by then, and while Emily was no expert at telling time without a clock, she was sure that the cold hadn't made her so impatient that she was willing to turn ten seconds into what felt like near a minute. After she felt confident that she could knock again without sounding thoroughly impatient, Emily did. There was still no response, not even a hint of a sound on the other door. Frowning, she withdrew her phone from her pocket, this time not caring that her hand would be subjected to the cold. Something was wrong, Emily could feel it. If J.J. had told her to meet her at home, then J.J. would be there. She simply wasn't the type to forget something like that, not to mention there were lights clearly on inside.

There was no answer on J.J.'s cell phone. Emily didn't blink an eye about calling her home. Inside, the sound of the phone ringing came, and then to Emily's surprise there was a crash followed by loud and vicious barking. Immediately her hand went to her gun and she tried the door to see if it was unlocked. It wasn't, but that didn't stop Emily. Careful now, barely even registering the cold, she moved toward the front window. The curtains were drawn, and there wasn't any gaps for her to see through. At least that meant that if anyone was inside, it was unlikely that they could see her. Silently, or as quietly as she could, Emily moved toward the back of the house. The gate leading into the backyard was ajar, but she couldn't really say if that meant anything. She wasn't knowledgeable about J.J.'s home habits. The fact that J.J. had a dog hadn't been known to her. At least, she fervently hoped that J.J. did have a dog.

When she entered the backyard and saw a dark shape lying on the ground, her heart pounded harder. As she neared it, she saw that rather than a person, it was a dog. A dog much smaller than a human was, meaning that Emily had blown its size out of proportion with fear. A bleeding dog that Emily wasn't sure was still alive. Part of her desperately wanted to check and see. It looked like it had been stabbed. She was absolutely certain now that J.J. did have dogs, and since she doubted this was the same one that had been barking and growling inside, she had to assume that there was at the very least two. This scared her, because she couldn't be certain that an already upset and protective dog would register her as a friend. Emily would hate to have to shoot a dog that belonged to someone she respected, and considered a friend.

It turned out that Emily wouldn't need to shoot the dog. It had fallen silent by the time she reached the back door. While it was closed, it wasn't locked. Careful not to make any sound as she stepped inside, she did a quick check of the room to make sure it was clear before moving forward. The only thing out of place seemed to be a lamp that had been knocked off a table, and lay broken on the floor. There was no other sign of a struggle. Instinctively she wanted to call out to J.J. but she now knew that whoever was inside this house had a knife. Using the dog as evidence, she was also positive that whoever he was, this man wouldn't bat an eye at using it. Emily couldn't help but hope that the poor animal managed to survive, along with the one inside. If anything, she had to guess that the dog had tried to protect J.J. once it realized there was an intruder. Now that it was quiet, she couldn't help but wonder if this second dog had met the same fate as the first, and whether she would reach the man before he did the same to J.J.

The kitchen, study and hall were clear, as was the bathroom and guest room. There were small things about the house that made the situation better. It was a single level home, so she wouldn't have to worry about checking another floor, and it had a limited number of rooms beyond the ones she'd already checked. It seemed there were just two more closed doors for her to check. The first was clear, and when Emily faced the last, she couldn't stop the feeling of dread that welled up inside of her. No matter how much she braced herself, if she found a dead or severely injured J.J. inside, there would be no stopping the rage, or sorrow that would fight to take over her training as an FBI agent. Emily waited only a few seconds, taking several deep breaths to calm herself before opening the door.

The light was on, and the first thing Emily saw was the dog. It was a big German Shepard, larger than the one in the yard, and it looked like it was hurt worse than the other too. Emily wished that the dog were dead, even if it felt wrong, because clearly this dog was still alive. The moment it saw Emily it started to whimper, tail wagging feebly, and tried to raise its head off the floor, then move toward her. It didn't treat her like another enemy, and there was nothing she could do to stop the tears that filled her eyes. This was J.J.'s dog, not just some strangers and the fact that it had recognized her as a friend, instead of growling the moment it had seen her, made Emily's heart swell just slightly before constricting again in fear. Where was J.J.?

It seemed the only answer was behind a closed door that probably housed a bathroom. Swallowing hard, she moved forward quickly and turned the knob, kicking it open with her foot while she leveled her gun. The man wasn't in the bathroom, but J.J. was. That scared Emily, because she'd thoroughly checked the whole house and if he wasn't here then he had to be somewhere nearby. Regardless, she knew the bedroom was clear so she hurried to close the door, locking it behind her before she returned to J.J. She spared a brief glance at the dog and vowed to turn her attention to it once she knew that J.J. was safe, or dead. Though the latter was too hard a thought to consider, so she didn't.

J.J. was alive, but unconscious. As far as Emily could tell she hadn't been stabbed, but she did look like she'd been beaten severely. There was blood all over the other woman's face, and even though she wasn't awake her body huddled inward, her arms tucked close to her chest as if she were protecting an injured area. Since Emily hadn't found any stab wounds, she had to assume that whatever damage there might be was either internal or merely just badly hurting. It was a feeling that she could easily commiserate with, as she herself had once been personally beaten by an UnSub, and it made her angry that J.J. had to go through something similar. Gently, she touched J.J.'s face, saying her name, trying to get her to wake up. There was a head wound that Emily hadn't noticed before, and it concerned her that she also wasn't conscious.

After several tres, she gave up, instead pulling out her phone and dialing 911. Her next call would be the team, but for now, she needed to alert to local PD that there was a dangerous man in the area wielding a knife, and that he'd already injured two animals and one woman. When the operator answered, Emily barely gave the woman time to speak. "This is Emily Prentiss with the FBI requesting assistance and an ambulance at 4631 Shell Avenue. We have an agent, Jennifer Jareau, down, and the attacker is still in the area. He's armed with a knife," she said curtly.

"Yes, Ma'am. That was 4631 Shell Avenue, FBI Agent requesting Police assistance and medical care for a wounded Agent?" the woman repeated, her voice calm. It irritated Emily, but she didn't let that seep into her voice when she reassured the woman that her information was correct.

"Ok, Emily. Can you tell me what condition your friend is? You said the man had a knife. Has Jennifer been stabbed?"

"No, not stabbed, but beaten. She's unconscious, breathing, but hurt. I don't know anything other than that," Emily explained, and before the operator had time to respond she added, "You might want to send animal control. There are two dogs that have been stabbed, as well. At least one is still alive and in pain." Silently she added on, 'I won't shoot it unless I have to.'

If Emily hadn't been on the phone she probably would have heard the door's lock click open, or registered the dogs low growl as someone entered. It was her only mistake of the night and it cost her dearly. She was hit from behind, hard. The phone fell to the ground, hitting the hard floor and breaking. Crying out, Emily fell with it, her gun slipping from her hand. She wished that J.J. was awake, wished that someone else was there to catch the gun and turn it on the man, but there was no one else and it took everything inside of her to stop the scream that bubbled to the surface when she was kicked in the ribs. Huddled on the ground, she fought the tears stinging her eyes. She needed to be strong, needed to think of a way out the situation, but there was no time.

Rough hands grabbed her hair, dragging her to her feet. Emily was pushed into the bedroom, landing on her hands and knees on the floor, gasping for breath. It hurt to breath, and she hated the thought that the one kick might have cracked a rib. The sound of the man with J.J. in the bathroom made Emily fight past the pain. Shakily she got to her feet, glancing at her gun inside the bathroom. It was just barely visible and there was no way that she was going to be able to get to it. From here, all she could see about the man was his back, and a head of curly brown hair. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, in a voice that only trembled a little bit. If she hadn't been so scared, she would have been proud.

Looking back at her, he barely seemed to register her as a threat. Emily tried not to let that bother her, but it did. She might be smaller than him, and a female, but she was conscious and she had called the police. It was that small fact that made her hopeful that they would get out of this alive. Her hopes were soon slammed completely into the ground and shattered when a second man entered the room. They had to have been outside when Emily entered the house. The only other door leading to the backyard had been in the first guest bedroom, but it had required a key to get in and had been locked. Emily hadn't thought twice about it, hadn't even considered the possibility that these men might actually have keys to J.J.'s house.

The man stared at Emily with a greedy look on his face. The dog growled louder as the man came closer to Emily, struggling harder to get to its feet. When he kicked the animal, Emily couldn't stop herself. She moved forward quickly, hoping to surprise him. It didn't work, and no matter how hard she fought against him nothing helped. He was bigger than her, so much stronger, and she was in pain. It didn't take long for him to subdue her, to hit her so hard in the face that everything went black. She'd always imagined that at a time like this she would simply lose herself completely, not be able to think or be scared. She'd been wrong. Emily was terrified, fully aware that while her mind was inside this darkness, her body was in the hands of two men who wouldn't hesitate to hurt her.

When she finally came around, everything was hazy. Her entire body hurt, and it was a battle just to open her eyes. There was nothing familiar about her surroundings, even though she could barely make them out. It was clear enough to Emily that she wasn't at J.J.'s anymore, though she had no idea where. As she became more alert she realized that she was in a car, and that she was bound at the wrists and ankles, with a gag tied around her face, cloth shoved between her teeth. After struggling for a moment or two with no results, she fell still, instead listening. There was no sound except that of the car. Whoever had taken her wasn't big on talking, and there wasn't any sound to indicate that J.J. was with her.

That frightened her, more than she already was. What if J.J. had died? It hurt Emily to think that way, but at the same time she remembered all the abduction cases involving women that they'd had to deal with. Images of tortured bodies dumped in forests flashed into her mind. What if it were better if J.J. had died there in her house rather than be stuck at the mercy of these men? The moment the thought was in Emily's mind she started crying, and once she started she couldn't stop. She kept herself from doing it noisily, but either way, she was almost certain that whoever had her would still be able to hear her. It made her feel weak and pathetic. She needed to be strong, not give in to her fears and let them overtake her.

A long time later, Emily lay in the car, not crying anymore when it stopped. The men got out, a door opened and there was the sound of something, or someone, being taken out of it. She was both relieved and worried, because though she assumed it was J.J. she had not proof that it was a J.J. that was alive. Perhaps they were just dumping her body before moving on to the place where they would keep Emily. Her stomach turned, and for a moment she was almost certain that she was going to throw up. Thankfully she didn't, though the feeling got worse when the men returned. One of them opened a door near her feet, only to stand there staring at her. It was dark, his face was shadowed, so she couldn't see which one it was.

Finally, he grabbed her ankles, yanking her toward him. Crying out in protest that was muffled by her gag, Emily tried to move her arms up to grab something. She felt stupid for not realizing it until now, but a length of rope was connected to what had been tied around her ankles and wrist, stopping her from being able to do anything with her arms at all. This made Emily feel like she hadn't fought hard enough to get free in the car earlier, that she'd given up too quickly. It wasn't as if the feeling were too off base. Had she fought just a little longer to free herself, she would have realized, but there was nothing she could about it now as she was dragged from the car.

Her head neared the edge of the seat, scaring her with the prospect of her just falling out of the car. The man, who had been the first one to come into the bedroom, caught her though, before she could fall. He steadied her on her feet, then put a noose around her neck. After tightening it so that it was snug around her throat, he grabbed the length that was free and pulled her. It rankled being collared and led like a dog. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pulled against it once in another protest. Roughly, Emily was pulled forward, almost onto her knees. A heavy hand slapped her across the face. "Try that again, bitch, and I'll slit your fucking throat," whispered the man, close enough to her now that she could feel his breath on her ear. Feeling defiant in her fear, if she wouldn't have had the gag on, Emily would have dared him to try.