So this account is basically just for the members/admins to read for our own enjoyment, and also the annoyance of the said OTP Majestic and Damon, two wonderful friends of ours who didn't believe us when we told them we'd write fanfiction about them. No no, we're not crazy. We just like to annoy the absolute shit out of our friends. Welcome aboard this fabulous ship. To those who aren't in on the joke, think of this as two OC's set in our beloved world of criminal minds.

-K

It had been a long number of days at the BAU. Every day, this case was getting closer and closer to a dead end.

Morgan had long since lost his temper, Reids genius mind was losing its sharp edge, Garcia was running out of kitten pictures.

Hotch and JJ were constantly checking on their sons, and Rossi had more than a few bottles of well aged scotch in his hotel room.

And now Blake was questioning if she wanted to keep the job after all.

The first three victims had been young females in the age range of seventeen to twenty four, their necks broken after exactly two days of brutal torture. And the next five had been male, all of which had been twenty seven, handcuffed by their wrists, electrocuted and shot execution style. The only reason they'd been able to tie the victims together was the scabbed over 'X', burned into the back of each victim's upper neck. Their Unsub obviously wanted credit for his work.

It was one victim in particular that had brought them to this case. There had been a note, left on the last female body. In a perfectly neat, textbook style scrawl, had been three simple words.

Behavioral Analysis Unit.

They had been singled out, brought to the case on the killers request.

JJ sighed, running a hand through her hair, grabbing another hot cup of caffeine from Reid. "How much longer can we keep this up?"

"My guess is it'll be another week or two before Hotch hands the case over," Rossi answered, his tone not entirely enthusiastic.

"Who do we hand it over to?" Morgan leaned against the nearest door frame, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I don't care who it goes to," Blake muttered. "I just want it over with."

"My hopes are that we can wrap this up as a unit," Hotch had come up behind them like a ghost, his eyes not leaving the open file in his hands. "The Unsub asked for us specifically. If we leave, the killings could only get worse. It could anger him. So you're not going to find out where the case would go. We're going to stay right here. But right now we're going to get back to our rooms, get some rest. We've got another long day, and another one after that."

Morgan let out a deep breath, throwing his jacket over his shoulder while Reid jogged around a few desks to get his bag. JJ retreated to go collect Garcia, who had flown out upon request, and Blake stood with Hotch, who engaged in a conversation with Rossi about their next tactic.

The small southern police station had fallen into a quiet hum of stressed induced labor, and the sound of keyboard clicks and dial tones were constant.

It was this kind of static that they had grown accustomed to.

And in the next five seconds, all of that would be disrupted.

The large wooden doors slammed open, the wind and rain from outside swirling in like a frenzied smoke. At first they didn't quite see him, his black hair and clothes blending with the night outside. But he stumbled in, his pale skin greatly contrasting with the rest of him, causing the blood soaking his shirt to stick out even more than it would have on its own.

"Aaron!" Despite his frightened appearance, the boys voice was a sharp bark, demanding and loud.

The doors had been pushed closed once again, and now the entire room was focused him, most looking on in concern.

He pushed himself forward, nearly losing his footing, before catching himself, putting his dead weight on his hands, which he rested on the nearest desk.

"Damon?" Hotch's voice stayed as calm as it ever had been, but he had stepped forward, placing a hand on the boys shoulder. "What are you doing here? What happened to you?"

"I need to-" He cut himself off, trying to steady his hard breathing, ignoring his questions entirely. "I need to talk to Emily. Where the hell is Emily Prentiss?"