Thank you for reading! And I've decided to write the story I talked about last chapter as soon as I'm done this fic.

Hotch frowned as he looked at the dying person in front of him. The erratic pulse of the old man proved that he was barely hanging on to life. He was lying on a bed, hooked up to six separate machines that hummed quietly in the small attic.

Hotch moved the man's hand back onto the bed and picked up the large file of papers that was sitting next to him.

Patient Name: Oakland Wood

Age: 79

Condition: Brain Cancer

Suggested Treatment: Bi-weekly chemotherapy for twenty months. Oakland needs constant supervision and a 24-hour nurse.

Hotch furrowed his brow, he hadn't seen any nurses the entire time he had been there. He shuffled through the files once more until he reached a page that was printed one week ago.

Oakland has requested termination of his chemotherapy. He will reside at home with his son, Paul Wood. Paul has previous medical training and will act in place of Oakland's previous bedside nurse. Without chemotherapy, Oakland has an estimated 2 weeks to live.

"The trigger," Hotch said aloud.

Looking beside Oakland, Hotch found a table with a pad of paper sitting on it. Hotch picked it up, reading the words scratched onto it.

Paul, I am so disappointed in you. I remember when you got out of high school, you begged me for money for your tuition. You had always wanted to be an actor. I gave you my entire life savings so you could go to that pricey film school. Once you graduated, you went to one audition. One. When the casting director told you that you didn't get the part, you gave up on your dream. Why did you give up? Before I die, I want you to be that actor you always wanted to be. I know your name, son. But no one else does. Go, make it happen. Don't ever give up.

Hotch put the pad down slowly, knowing what he had to do.


Paul knelt on the floor in the fetal position. He sobbed pitifully, rocking back and forth on the hardwood. "Why is life so hard?" he cried. "What did I do wrong?"

He got up, tears staining his cheeks. He grabbed a camera and headed up towards his father's room in the attic.


"I have major news on Paul," Garcia said urgently. "About a year ago, his father got brain cancer and up until now, Oakland Wood has been receiving regular chemotherapy until he decided to stop the treatment. Oakland only has two weeks to live. Paul has been taking care of him."

"That's his trigger!" Prentiss exclaimed.

"Baby girl, where was his father staying?" Morgan asked.

"441 Porter St, about seventeen miles from Paul's house," Garcia said.

"Let's go," Rossi said, grabbing his jacket and leaving the bullpen.


Reid woke up with a blinding headache. His analytical brain was functioning a little slowly after the abuse he had just endured. However, his mind never failed him and he was pulling up facts on knots mere moments later.

Gritting his teeth, Reid pulled on his binds, twisting his hands every which way until the ropes fell off of him.

"Someone didn't go to boy scouts," he muttered.

Reid stood, up and took a moment to regain his senses. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. "Ouch," he said, touching a cut on his face.

Reid turned away from the mirror and towards the door. Grabbing the handle, he turned it, and prayed that it would open.


Paul directed the camera towards himself, "My name is Paul Wood, and I have murdered nine people. Soon, I will kill two more. This is a video to prove that I have captured two FBI agents I will kill them very shortly after this video is completed." Paul approached the attic, "This is the first agent, Aaron Hotchner," Paul opened the door to the attic and the camera clattered to the ground.

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion! The last chapter has not yet been written so the more reviews there are, the faster I will be motivated to write it! (I've always wanted 50 reviews, hint hint :) Thank you to the people who have been faithfully reviewing throughout, I love hearing what you have to say :)