A/N- Hey, you guys actually like my story! Guess I'm doin somethin write! Haha- get it? Write, I write things, supposed to be right?

No?

*sigh*

Okay then- awkward. Kay. Ummmm... here is the story.

Okay. Yeah. Okay.


Chapter 3- Echoes of Love

"So he asked me to give him the definition of 'abacot'." she griped, muttering under her breath a few other things he didn't quite catch. His mind was reeling, and he chuckled at his conclusion.

"Hey- what's so funny?" she demanded, aggravated by his lack of sympathy.

"Nothing... it's just- ummm...- your teacher made a mistake." he stated matter-of-factly.

"What mistake?" she questioned, oblivious to what he was thinking.

"The word 'abacot' is not a word at all. It is actually a common misspelling of the word 'bycoket'. You see, over time, people began to say 'abacot' instead..." he trailed off, and awkwardly stared at the ground.

JJ stared at him for a second, disbelief shadowing her amusement.

"Spence," she joked, shaking her head. "You have got to learn to be normal." With that, she bolted off.

"Hey!" he shouted after her, breaking into a sprint as he tried to catch up with her.

Her hair floated and bounced, pleasant streams of bright blonde hair trailing behind her. He pushed harder, but was unable to compete with her already long legs. Though he wasn't the shortest, he still hadn't had his growth spurt yet, leaving her to quickly push past him.

She slowed to a jog, and stopped soon after. Racing, he finally reached her. Panting, breathlessly gulping in precious mouthfuls of air, he allowed his eyes to travel to her. She was leaning on her legs, frantically trying to wipe the perspiration from her sweaty forehead.

"I am normal, I just have a few flaws," he whispered breath hoarse and breathy.

"No you're not, Spence," she whispered back. Seeing his betrayed expression, she completed her thought.

"You may not be perfect, but I love you, just the way you are." His smile took her breath away. She loved making him feel better.

With that, they continued walking. They both knew they were late, and that this would result in Punishment. Sir hated it when they weren't home on time. But they didn't care right now.

All they were thinking was, when the trees swayed with a rhythmic whisper, and when rays of sunlight sprinkled onto the road from the trees surrounding them, life was just fine.


"Guys, I think I got something!" the enthusiastic tech piped from the other end of the line.

"Whatcha got for me, baby girl?" Derek questioned, knowing the answer would be productive. Garcia always had a way of finding the team the right information.

"Well, that depends on what you got for me, babe," she purred. A few exasperated sighs were all she received in return.

"Fine, I'll tell. Okay, so I was diggin around, snooping through the families' last purchases and found out that they all had just returned from an overnight camp. It is a small campground where all five girls attended for a local get-together for the kids of the community. It cost $40 and lasted 4 nights. I don't know if this helps, but you did say everything.

"No, Garcia, that is perfect. Any connection counts." Hotch replied, voice stony and face blank.

"Well, if this is the connection, could the killer possibly have met them there?" Morgan asked anyone, trying to start the debate.

"Probably... he could have been staff at the place." Prentiss assisted, adding a new idea to the profile.

"Aside from the camp, where else could he have met them?" Rossi said the question as if it were a statement.

"Schools, maybe. This unsub seems to be an obsession based killer- he will go anywhere to find a new victim." Prentiss was about to say something else when Hotch's phone buzzed. He answered, and with only a "Yes", he hung up the phone. The faces staring him down were waiting not so patiently for some information.

"There has been another report of a missing girl." Hotch informed them.

Silence.

"Well, this proves he is spiraling," Rossi said, trying to bring back the profilers to the question.

"And if that's the case, he could be on a psychotic rampage," Morgan added.

"I don't think so- the kills are to controlled and regulated until now, so we can assume that he's not just killing them for no reason," Prentiss doubted any one was listening to her, she'd spoken so quietly. Still a newbie to the team, she was shy and always thought herself wrong. However, a voice proved her wrong.

"Prentiss is right- he definitely has some motive other than death." Hotch said in his stony voice.

"What's her name?" Rossi asked.

"Megan Whiteman, 9 years old. She was notified as missing this afternoon when she didn't come home. Her mother called the police after hearing about the murders in the newspaper. She's pretty shooken up," Hotch informed them.

His hands were itching to do something other than sit in this plane. He decided to assign orders.

"Prentiss- talk to the families, try to scrape up as much as you can about the girls, might help with victimology. Rossi- get started on the geographical profile, try to find his comfort zone. Morgan- visit the ME, find as much information on the wounds as possible. I'll visit the crime scenes. Be ready- this'll be a long day." Hotch finished, and with a curt nod, acknowledged the team that he was dismissing any further conversation.


The young man gripped her arm tightly, and shoved the damp cloth into her mouth. The gasp was muffled underneath the dense fabric. Megan would never alert the neighbors now, he thought to himself.

Shining the light directly in her eyes, he kissed her clammy forehead, his stale breath floating over her delicate face. Her eyes widened in horror.

Anger began to creep into him. How dare she be frightened of him? He promised her nothing harmful would happen to her if she cooperated. Then why was she afraid?

He glared mercilessly, and without a second thought, backhanded her. Her head snapped back, a whimper of pain caught in the thick cloth.

He sighed, smoothed her messy head of hair, and whispered comforting words. He was trying to make her understand she was not a prisoner, not a slave.

She was his angel. And he would not hurt her, so long as she fulfilled the favors she owed him.

All the while, Megan was distracted by the sharp smell of death that seemed to hang over him.


Two figures walking through the streets, amidst them the nighttime stars were just beginning to dust the sky. They were both very late, and knew what the consequences were. The trip they had to make to the local grocer's had cost them a lot of time. It was just beginning to darken when they crept into their old, run-down home. Hoping they'd come in unnoticed, they sneaked through the creaking house.

They'd just made it to their small bedroom when a body came slamming against the door, prohibiting their entrance. Both children cringed, and fought the urge to run. Running only resulted in bigger Punishment. He smashed the two against the wall, smirking at their violent shivers. He screamed words of disgust at them, until he ripped Spencer from the hard wall and dragged the child to his bedroom.

JJ shrieked, and began to demand the Spencer's release. She raced to the monster, and attempted to shove the man away from her beaten friend. To her dismay, all she received was a grunt of anger and being tossed into the wall. Her head crashed into the wood, the thud echoing through the airy house. The last thing she remembered was the sound of Spencer screaming her name.

She was then thrust into unconsciousness, the world of darkness she'd become so accustomed to.


Sir threw the young boy onto his bed. He knew the blood would stain it, but he didn't care.

He never cared.

The irony scent clung to his skin, following him all through the house as a sick reminder of what he'd just done. He didn't know what the damage was, but he'd heard a few cracks throughout the ordeal.

But he reminded himself once again- they did a bad thing and needed punishment. Punishment taught them.

At least that's what he'd convinced himself.

He then washed up with a cloth he'd long since forgotten to clean.

Those bloody kids- always distracting him.

Moving toward the bedroom once more, he didn't have to fight the urge to shudder when he saw the crimson walls or the bloody door handle. He opened it calmly and walked in.

The girl was sitting on the boy's filthy bed, breathing shallow and quick. She was pressing a bandage to the boy's bleeding torso.

Where did she get that bandage? He stored all the medical supplies in the bathroom, and he'd locked it before they'd have a chance to get to it.

Then where-

He grabbed her arm, yanking her from the floor. She yelped in pain, trying with all her might to stay on the mattress.

But he was too strong. He shoved her against a wall, bringing his face inches from hers.

"Where did you get it?" he questioned, seething with anger.

The only reply he received was a disgusted glare full of contempt and hatred.

Ripping her from the wall, he dragged her fragile body out of the room without another word, and ignored the weak protests shooting out from her injured friend.

Instead, he pulled harder and made his way to another part of the house.

Punishment was needed.

He would get the answers out of her- he always did.


JJ knew he was drunk. She knew he was acting on impulses. She knew he would have no recollection whatsoever of this tomorrow.

She reminded herself this with every wave of pain. But it didn't make it right.

It never made it right.


A/N- Super short, I know! But I finally made it past 2,000 words, so I find it postable. A terrible attempt, but postable.

I am so sorry for not posting in so long, and I hope you guys like this. The next will be more into the story. I don't know if it is good or not, so please review and tell me.

Thanks for all the people who did- you guys are so amazing. I have gotten so much feedback, it is so awesome. Thank you generous readers!

BTW- still looking for weirdo factoids.

P.S. Technochocolate is goooooood...

Don't ask.

Nugget yelps not kind words as I manage to stuff him in his overnight carrier.

Sorry you had to hear that.

Oh, and always remember-never forget-

Piggy=bacon death protest- Please attend Monday 15, 1990 at da hippie center.

Be there be there BE THERE!