Author's Note: I really do have the best readers! Thank you for your awesome reviews, alerts, and favorites. You really do help me get past my bouts of writer's block and sheer laziness. As a thanks, here's a quicker paced, action chapter. Enjoy!

The sun was just reaching its peak in the afternoon sky when they decided to sit down for a drink of water. Lambert watched the young brunette as she slipped her backpack down her shoulders and set it against a tree stump. Their dinner the night before had gone much better than he had planned. He'd learned everything he could about Rebecca Marrow. He'd learned that she was a sucker for the works of William Shakespeare, that she'd moved to D.C. to attend Georgetown University five years ago, and had fallen in love with the city, and that she loved the great outdoors. It was the last of these facts that had sparked his interest, and changed his mind about his evening plans. They'd chatted over dinner about all of the amazing outdoor adventures he'd had growing up, and the trips she planned to take in the future. She had listened, and appeared genuinely interested. It had even been Rebecca, who'd suggested the morning hike.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Rebecca pulled him from his thoughts.

Lambert set his own pack down and turned to face her, nodding. She gave him a bright smile and the light breeze sent her dark locks waving against her face. Her dark eyes twinkled at him and he returned her smile with one of his own. It was good to get away from the city and into the familiar sounds and sights of the wilderness.

"It really is," he answered, "how far to the summit?"

Lambert knew exactly how far the summit of the trail they had taken was. He had spent the majority of the night studying maps of the area and browsing D.C. area recreation brochures. He also knew that they would never make it to the summit. He had a different route in mind. One that he was certain they wouldn't encounter other hikers.

"Only another two miles or so," Rebecca answered.

"What do you say to taking a little detour?" he asked, "I hear there is a really amazing canyon where the river drops down a few hundred feet in a series of waterfalls. Supposed to be really pretty. I want to try and get some photos."

He pulled the camera from his pack and waved it in his hand for her to see. She gave him another smile and tucked her water bottle back into her pack, before lifting it back onto her shoulders.

"A photographer too? You're just full of surprises," she teased, "I'm trusting you here, Mr. Outdoors. Don't get us lost."

"I won't get you lost," He smiled, "I promise."

"Where are we in the Archer case?" Hotch asked, as soon as everyone was settled around the round table.

"We've reviewed the file that Garcia put together on Forester," Emily answered, "The guy was definitely bad news, but it didn't really give us anything on Archer. Until we can get into that laptop, we're stuck."

"Rico's still in the wind," Morgan added, "we've got Agents on his house, and his workplace, but he hasn't been to either since yesterday."

"What about Foster?" Hotch asked.

"We still don't know who he is," Emily confessed, "none of the files we have on any of the victims have any connections to anyone named Foster."

"It might be another alias name, Hotch," Morgan said, "like Archer. If that's the case, his information is might be in that laptop as well."

Hotch nodded, "I spoke with Agent Parks again. Sikes isn't talking. He also let me know they'll be moving Donovan from the hospital into the jail's infirmary this afternoon. Our window to speak with him again is closing, so if you have any more theories or questions for him, I suggest we move quickly."

Morgan and Prentiss both nodded their understanding, and Hotch turned his attention to Rossi and Reid. "Anything on Lambert?"

"The girl in the photo's name is Melinda Reese," Reid began, "her body was discovered yesterday in the dumpster behind the bar that she worked at. The bartender said he saw her leave with a man after her shift was over. He gave us a positive ID on Lambert's photo."

Emily shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she eyed the photo of the woman's body. Lambert's note to her played over in her head, and she couldn't help the guilt that suddenly washed over her. She quickly adverted her eyes to Reid as he spoke again.

"The time frame in which the murder took place, suggests that Lambert may have went out in search of his victim, shortly after leaving here. He only had a few hours between the time he left this building and the bartender said he entered the bar."

"According to time stamps," Rossi added, "he used this time to return his rental car, and check out of his hotel room at the Hyatt. He also withdrew the max amounts available from multiple Visa cards belonging to Keith Frasier."

"He's using cash now, so odds are he's downsized his spending," Hotch thought aloud, "Circulate his photo to all of the hotels and car rental agencies in the D.C. metro area. He's gotta be staying somewhere."

"Already done," Rossi said, "nothing so far."

Hotch nodded and slowly looked around the room. His team looked exhausted, and Emily had already picked her left thumbnail down to its cuticle. He could practically feel the anxiety vibrating off her with every new piece of information they discovered on Lambert. He forced himself to look away, and realized they were missing someone.

"Where's Cassi?" he asked.

"She went out to get everyone lunch," Garcia answered, "With the Archer case still being a need to know only case, I didn't think she had to be here for the briefing."

"Garcia, Lambert has been watching this building, and is now targeting brunette woman," Hotch explained, "I doubt he's been back since the incident in the courtyard, but if he has…"

"Oh my god," Garcia cut him off and grabbed for her cell phone, "I didn't even think."

The phone rang in Garcia's ear a couple of times before the woman's voice greeted her from the other end. Garcia let out a relieved breath, "oh thank god. Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Cassi responded, "it's takeout. Last I checked it wasn't dangerous."

"Just hurry up, and get yourself back here," Garcia ordered, "and stay where people can see you, OK?"

Emily felt as if her heart had jumped up into her throat when Hotch had made the connection. It hadn't yet occurred to her that Cassi, even with shorter dark hair and deep blue eyes, would have a striking resemblance to Emily from a distance. Lambert had already killed one woman, who held a likeness to her. If he had been watching yesterday while Cassi was walking the courtyard, he could already be planning an attack on the consultant. None of them were safe anymore.

Emily watched Garcia frantically dial the phone, and let herself breathe when Garcia's face flushed with relief as she spoke into the phone. Cassi was alright, and would shortly be back in the office where they could protect her from the monster she'd been hired to hunt. Emily's mind was reeling with possibilities and she felt the room around her start to sway. She blinked a few times and stood to excuse herself, before hurrying to the ladies room. Once there, she quickly paced the short distance across the room, peeking under the stall doors to make sure she was alone, before stepping into a stall and locking it. She sat down on the edge of the toilet seat and let her head droop between her shoulders, trying hard to calm her nerves. A sharp pain in her head made her reach forward to steady herself against the stall door and she sucked in quick breaths, willing it to go away. When the pain subsided, she quietly cursed and stood to dig into her pocket for the pill bottle. She hated the way the pills fogged her head, and she had every intention of flushing the remaining tablets to rid herself of the obligation. However, her shaking hands refused to follow her commands, and fumbled with the child safe lid as she tried to pry it open. She was on the verge of hyperventilating when frustration overwhelmed her and she chucked the plastic container into the stall door in front of her. She ignored the bottle rolling between her feet, and quickly spun to sit back down. She closed her eyes and rested her face between her hands as she forced herself to take deep breaths.

Five minutes became ten, before her breathing returned to normal and she could feel the fog lifting from her brain. She had always been good at compartmentalizing her feelings into tightly locked boxes in her mind, but the knowledge that someone had been killed in her place had broken through one of those boxes. She blamed the pills for weakening the walls that kept her anxiety locked away. She wasn't herself when she was on them, but she was in pain when she wasn't. It was a double edged sword and she suffered with either direction. She had to choose which option was better. She could take the pills and dull the pain in her head, but she would be groggy and had already demonstrated a lack of judgment when she was on them. If she stopped taking them, she would be able to think clearly. At least until the headaches became too intense for her to focus.

She picked up the pill bottle and stood, turning it over in her hands, thinking. Now that she had gotten control over her shaking hands, she twisted the cap off and dumped one tablet into her palm. She took a deep breath, and tossed the tablet into her mouth, swallowing it dry, and dumped the remaining pills into the toilet bowl. If she had to suffer either way, she had chosen the option that made the most sense. Being unfocused was dangerous, and had already put Cassi in danger, without either of them realizing it. Without the dulling of the medication, she would be the only one affected. She could handle the headaches. She could not handle being responsible for anyone on the team getting hurt because she didn't see the threat coming.

She quickly washed her hands and splashed some water in her face before checking her appearance in the mirror. She looked tired, but no worse than she had earlier that morning. She dried her face on a paper towel and hurried out the door to rejoin the team. She jumped in surprise when she was met instantly by the wall that was Derek Morgan.

"Geez," she gasped, "you scared me."

"Are you alright?"

She forced a smile, "yeah, I'm fine."

She moved to duck around him, but he moved with her and set his hand on her arm, holding her back. She looked up into his concerned eyes and could see his determination in their depths. He wasn't going to let it go this time.

"Morgan, I really…"

"This isn't your fault Emily. You know that right?" he interrupted.

She stared blankly at him, listening, but not letting his words sink in. Nothing he could say would make her feel any differently. He sighed and released her arm.

"Hotch wants us to go talk to Donovan," he changed topic, "we need to see if he knows anything else about that Foster guy."

"Alright," she nodded, "Let's go."

"Exactly how far are these waterfalls?" Rebecca asked.

They had been walking off the beaten trail for nearly two hours, and this was the first that she had sounded suspicious of their destination.

"It's just a little bit further," he answered, "Don't tell me you're getting tired."

She laughed and turned to look over her shoulder at him, "Not a chance, but I swear, if you got us lost…"

They walked for another fifteen minutes before they could hear the bubbling of the quickly moving river. Rebecca took the lead and pushed on through the trees until she was standing next to the crystal clear water. Lambert watched her take in the sight of the thirty foot waterfall a few hundred feet to their left, and smiled. She had her back to him, and he could feel the anticipation building in his chest. They were miles off any trails and the roaring river echoed through the canyon. No one would hear a sound. He slowly gripped the hilt of the knife that he'd tucked into the waistband of his jeans and took a step forward.

"Wow, Keith, it's beautiful," she said without looking at him.

"I have a confession to make," he spoke in a low voice. She turned to look at him with smiling eyes, "My name isn't Keith Frasier."

Her face fell in confusion and he slowly revealed the knife in his hand. He could see the fear flash in her eyes as her situation dawned on her. Her dark eyes shot from the knife back to his face and she took a slow step back away from him, raising her hands in surrender. The gesture irritated him. Emily Prentiss would never just raise her hands and surrender to him.

"Why?" she croaked through her constricting throat.

"You made it so easy," he stepped closer and she took two, making him smile.

He watched the emotions swim across her features. At first she was terrified; her eyes filling with tears that fell down her cheek, and then to frustration, and finally to what looked like anger. Yes, Rebecca Marrow was pissed, and suddenly she wasn't the delicate waif he'd met yesterday. Her eyes held contact with his, and in their dark depths he saw a familiar look of determination. His memory flashed back to the mountain in Montana, where Emily Prentiss was defeated and yet stared him down, challenging him. He hadn't been able to accept her challenge then, but he was free now.

He lunged forward, but Rebecca surprised him by sidestepping his attack. The knife missed its mark and sliced through the flesh of her arm as she blocked the strike. She cried out in pain, but used his momentum to step in close to his chest, and brought her knee up into his groin. He grunted and dropped to one knee, gripping her backpack in attempt to hold her in place, and swung the knife out blindly. This time it connected, and he felt the blood from her back slick down the back of his hand. He retracted his hand and growled as he moved to thrust again, but she spun, slipping her arms from the straps of her pack and took off at a dead run. He was quick to recover, and easily caught up to her. He took her down hard, with both of them crashing into the underbrush and rolling down into the freezing water. He quickly found his balance and was relieved that the water was only about waist deep. He'd managed to keep his hold on her shirt through the fall, and forced her back into a large rock that protruded from the water's surface. She sputtered as the water rushed up the sides of the rock and into her face. It was only now that he realized he'd lost his knife somewhere in the tussle.

Still not ready to give up, Rebecca swung out, catching him in the face with a crack of her knuckles. He laughed at her attempt, despite the blood it brought from his nose. He gripped the collar of her shirt and lifted her from the rock, before slamming her back against it, smiling at the pained cry that it ripped from her throat. She slumped in his hands, slowly losing her fight to stay conscious. He watched her face closely, snarling as he wrapped his large hand around her neck and gave it a squeeze. Her eyes shot open and she clawed at his hand, ripping at thin skin there. He laughed and shoved her down the rock until her head was submerged in the frothing water. He was surprised by the fight she still had left in her when she pushed off the muddy river bottom and broke the surface, coughing, and spitting. Her palm shot up and caught his chin, pushing up at his face and he had to release her neck to grab her hands.

His vision went red and suddenly he was back in the bunker in Montana. His adrenaline was pushing through his veins like a flash flood as he got the drop on the Agent that had attacked him. Hotchner was curled in on himself, and Lambert was about to deliver a final blow when Emily had jumped him. The chain she'd used had cut into his neck, and no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to reach behind him far enough to get a grip on her. Fury boiled in him, and the image of Rebecca in front of him slowly began to change. Her eyes that were twinkling before, had taken on a pained, dark furious color, and her earlier smile was now a snarling grimace. Those two features were what he'd been looking for. She was an exact match.

He smiled and tightly gripped her small wrists in one of his much larger hands, while the other gripped at her throat again. Her eyes clenched shut as she realized that this was it, she had lost. Her body was giving up on her, and refused to fight him as he pushed her back under the water. He held her there until her muscles tensed and relaxed under his hands. He held her limp body under the surface for good measure, and was entranced by the red tinted water that swirled from under his hands and down the river.

Satisfied with himself, he drug the woman's limp body from the water and let it fall unceremoniously into the dirt. He stretched his muscles and flexed his jaw, realizing that his nose was still bleeding. Rebecca had an impressive left hook for her size. Chuckling to himself, he walked the distance back to his pack and retrieved his camera from the zipper pocket.

The majority of the drive to the hospital was made in silence, until Morgan couldn't ignore the nagging in his gut anymore. She had completely brushed him off when he'd spoken his concern in the office, and he knew she was holding back. He also knew that she had a lot on her mind, and needed to unload it, whether she wanted to or not.

"Prentiss, about earlier," he broke the silence.

"Morgan, please don't," she shook her head and peered out the side window.

"Come on Emily, talk to me," he risked a glance away from the road to look at her, but she stared straight ahead and ignored him, "What's going on with you?"

"I'm just tired," she said blankly, "this case is just more dead ends than answers, and it annoys me."

"This is more than you just being annoyed Prentiss," he argued, "you're on edge and unfocused. You aren't yourself today. You know we're here for you to talk to."

She turned at the tone he'd used to say it, and glared at him for a second before speaking.

"I'm fine."

"You're feeling guilty about what Lambert did to that girl, I get that," he argued, "but it isn't your fault."

"Yeah?" she spat out, surprising him, "Then you explain to Melinda's family that their daughter was stabbed to death and dropped in a dumpster like garbage as a message to me. You think they aren't immediately going to blame me. I triggered him, and now he's out there hunting for people that look like me. How is that not my fault?"

Morgan was surprised by her sudden outburst, but the driveway to the hospital gave him the distraction he needed to think for a second on how to respond. He pulled the SUV smoothly into the lot and turned his attention back to his partner.

"Emily…"

"I'm tired and my head hurts Morgan," she cut him off, "I'm tired of running into dead ends, and I'm tired of everyone watching me like I'm going to crumble. I don't need your pity."

"It isn't pity," he raised his tone to match hers, "its concern Emily. Look at yourself, you're wound up so tight that you jump at every sound, and you're fingernails are practically bleeding from the chewing."

"Save it," she snapped, "you wanna profile someone? How about you focus on the son of a bitch that's killing people right in our own backyard. If you really want to help me, just back off and let me do my job."

She opened her door before the SUV had even come to a complete stop, and he shook his head at her back as she stepped out. He hopped out and hurried around the hood of the car to catch up with her. She was already halfway across the lot when he caught up and grabbed her shoulder to make her face him. She spun quickly, ready to put the conversation to an end but her words were drown out by a deafening pop, and she hunched over and dropped to her knees.

Author's Note: Dun Dun Dunnn...Hope you liked the chapter. It was shorter than the rest, but size doesn't matter right? Quality not quantity and all that? Umm, yeah, anyways...Review and let me know what you think!