Disclaimer: The fact that this is on here and not tv is (unfortunate) proof that I own nothing except any original characters.

A/N: When reading this please disregard everything that you know about Emily Prentiss' past. For the purposes of this story she is not the daughter of a diplomat; her parents are absent and she has a younger sister. Oh and I'm not a profiler and unlike the show's actual writers I don't have access to expert help so please forgive any mistakes I may make. I'm trying!

Please R/R, I'd love to know what you think and why you think that :)

Christiansburg, Virginia

Darkness shrouded the quiet suburban street, the cold winter air closing tightly around the matching double storey houses. Footsteps crunched through the leaves, their sound the only sign of movement. Yellow eyes traced the man's progress as he crossed the yard in a low crouch. He travelled slowly, wary of being seen but confident he was alone and invisible. He reached the shelter of the house and his watcher leapt from her perch on the fence, crossing the grass gracefully to rub against his legs. Swearing at a whisper, he kicked the cat roughly out of his way, not looking back to it as he continued around the side of the home.

Inside it was equally quiet and dark, the only sound, the regular breathing of the three occupants as they slept. The man slipped quietly through the unlocked back door, thanking small town security, or lack thereof, as he pushed it closed behind him. He couldn't risk using lights but it didn't matter, every house on this street had the same layout, his only danger was awkwardly placed furniture. Stepping quietly, successfully managing to avoid creaky floorboards and table corners, he made his way up the narrow staircase to the bedrooms. In the blackness, he knew it would take him exactly five steps to be standing between two closed doors. He glanced towards the one on his right, listening intently for any sign its inhabitant wasn't sleeping. In his mind he could see the room, he didn't know exactly how it was decorated but he knew there was room for little more than a bed and dresser, maybe a small bookshelf under the window that overlooked the street. Satisfied he wasn't going to be overheard, he turned to his right, opening the wide, wooden door slowly. Once he was closed in the room he turned on his torch. Two figures lay sleeping on the bed, they lay closer together than necessary on the large mattress. As he stood looking down at their familiar faces, he smiled; they would be his favourite yet.

Across the hall, the screaming startled the brunette awake. It was silenced before she could fully grasp consciousness and she sat up in confusion. Did she really hear it or was it simply residue from an instantly forgotten dream? Shaking her head and running a hand through her dishevelled hair Allie lay back down. Moments later her eyes widened as a door opened and footsteps padded towards the stairs. Was someone dragging something? Frowning, she swung her legs off the bed and reached for the lamp. Muted light filled the room and she stood slowly, listening carefully for further noise. Grabbing her hoodie from the back of her desk chair, she headed cautiously into the hall. It was empty but her housemates' bedroom door stood wide open. From where she stood, Allie could see the unmade bed; sheets and duvet thrown back as if someone had leapt up in a hurry. There was no sign of her friends. Her heart was in her mouth as she started for the stairs. Sounds of sudden movement on the lower level left her paralysed, and it took every ounce of her willpower to force her feet forward. She was on the top stair before she saw them. She noticed Zach first; he was slumped in the front doorway. She could barely make him out in the faint light but he wasn't moving and she gasped in horror as her eyes focused and she saw the blood. His face and bare chest were cut badly and the blood covered nearly every inch of his torso. His blonde hair was matted to his head and his pants were ripped and dirty. As she watched, her mind moving as sluggishly as her tired body, two more people came into her line of vision. The man was tall and dressed in black, his face was covered by a mask of some kind; ski or balaclava, she wasn't sure of the right name. He was dragging another person by the hair. She involuntarily cried out as she recognised her best friend. Bree's eyes snapped to meet her own and Allie's breath stopped at the unbridled terror they held. The man looked up too. His eyes narrowed and he dropped Bree. Her mind and body snapped to attention at once and Allie spun on the spot, sprinting back down the hall. She slammed her bedroom door, clicking the lock into place seconds before he reached it. He pounded angrily on it but the wood was solid and held. Allie crossed the room in two steps, lunging for the cellphone on her desk. He was relentlessly kicking at the door and she knew it would only be a matter of minutes before it gave way.

FBI Headquarters, Quantico

The building was quiet, most agents had left for the night and the morning shift wasn't due to start for hours yet. The exhausted team lugged their overnight bags through the lobby and into the abandoned bullpen.

"Remind me why we do this again?" Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss sighed as she sank into her desk chair.

"Them" Aaron Hotchner said simply, motioning to the wall plastered with faces from past cases as he passed it, heading to his office.

"Right." She agreed, closing her eyes and leaning back in her chair as throughout the room her colleagues began to drag themselves back to their feet. "Going home?"
"Mmm." Spencer Reid nodded thoughtfully, "I have an early morning."

"You know it's the weekend right Reid?" Derek Morgan laughed as he pulled his leather jacket on.

"I know. I just have...things planned."

"Things?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

"I'm guessing none of those "things" would be a visit to a bar?"

"Um, no." Reid shook his head, ignoring the mocking from the older agents and turning to pick up his bag. They all walked towards the elevators together, their lighthearted banter slowed only by their exhaustion.

"Hang on." Emily frowned, ducking into a small, glass paned office. "You're not still working are you?"

From her desk, JJ looked up, shaking her blonde hair from her face. "My work is never done."

"But it's the weekend." Morgan's head appeared around the doorframe. "I know you have more of a life than that girl."

"I'll have a life when I've figured out where we're going next." She smiled weakly, motioning to the pile of official folders littering her desk. A large screen fixed to the wall filtered through a slideshow of crime scene photos, mug shots and various rap sheets and files.

"These the options?" Morgan moved fully into the room, watching as they slid across the screen.

"Yeah." JJ nodded with a sigh, "That's the most recent one to come through. Break and enter, two killed, thus far unidentified, only about an hour ago. There's been a few in the area, police think it's the same unsub."

Standing in the doorway, Reid felt Emily stiffen next to him. He turned to her curiously but she was already moving towards the screen.

"Pause it." Her voice was strangled. JJ reached for the remote and froze the screen.

"Go back."
JJ skipped back through the photos slowly.

"Stop! No, forward...a little more...that one!" She pointed to a picture of a tall house surrounded by trees and police tape. "Where is that? What's the address?"

"Uh..." JJ rifled through the piles of paper for a moment before pulling a small sheet out, "770 Republic Road, Christiansburg, Virginia."

"Oh God."

"Emily?" Morgan stepped towards her, placing his hand on her shoulder as she turned towards him, her face white. "What's wrong?"

"That's...that house..." She choked out, "That's my sister's house."

The room descended into silence for a split second before everyone leapt into action at once.

"I'll get the paperwork started, make sure we can have the jet." JJ gathered her folders and hurried from the room, followed quickly by Reid,

"I'll get Hotch."

Morgan dug into his jacket pocket, pulling out his cellphone, "Call her." He suggested, holding the phone out to Emily. She took it and dialled quickly from memory. She listened desperately as it rang exactly six times before clicking over.

"Voicemail." She whispered, handing the phone back.

Across the hall, the BAU's glass doors burst open as Hotch and Reid raced to meet the others. JJ was a beat behind, phone to her ear, arms full of paper. "Wheels up in half an hour."