A.N: Ok, so I know it's been a while for this one, but I do hope it was worth the wait. Thank you to everyone reviewed, added to favorites, and alerts you guys totally rock, it's reached over two hundred thank you for that, and now as always on with the show.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and I can't really say that no one was hurt while making this chapter cause well you'll see *evil laugh*

Chapter twenty four

Hotch pulled up to the curb, white and black police cruisers, blue and red lights flashing, the city Medical examiners van doors open, gurney pulled out, waiting to haul the body away. Detective Monroe, dressed smartly in a white, silver striped dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, silver tie around his thick neck, charcoal grey slacks, and black Dr. Martin boots on his feet, moved to greet them.

"This sicko sure knows how to keep things interesting," he stated gruffly, the tone, saying that he thought it was anything, but.

"What do ya got?" Rossi asked, stepping forward pleasantries forgotten.

Monroe shook his head, "I don't know were to begin, Rossi," he said, running an aged hand through slightly graying, brown hair, "over kill with this one."

"You sure it's the same man?" Hotch asked, not wanting misjudge the older man, but sometimes things like MO's can be misinterpreted or thought to be the work of one serial killer and that not be the case.

"Does that answer your question sonny," he answered gruffly, pointing to the dark red, Chevy Cobalt the driver side door splattered white blood in the shape of the taunting eye within a pyramid.

He could feel the familiar pain in the back of his head start to surge forward again, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the pain he closed his eyes, frustration building right along with the pain.

"We'll catch him Hotch," Emily whispered laying a comforting hand on his shoulder trying to give him hope in the darkness.

"And how many bodies will there be lying around before that, Em? He's killed countless all ready and nothing seems to stop him," he returned trying to keep his emotions in check.

"We will stop him this time," she replied forcefully raising an eyebrow in counter. She'd never seen Hotch give up and she'd be damned if she'd let him this time. "He'll screw up it's only a matter of time."

"Time isn't a luxury with have right now Prentiss," he grumbled walking away from her. He knew his harsh words would string, but he couldn't help it, it couldn't stop the flood of anger and self loathing that tried to consume him. He blamed himself for this, if he'd just made that damn bargain all those years ago, Haley would still be alive, he would've never had to go into hiding like some fucking coward and Jack wouldn't have had his young life up rooted.

She watched him walk away, anger building in her chest, but not for the man whose back was all she could see of him. No it rested solely with the sick son of a bitch who had done the crime, took the life of someone who wasn't ready to leave this life just, yet. Her own frustration grew with every new body, with each hour that passed, a frustration she was sure the whole team shared.

"Hotch!" came Rossi's shocked deep voice, breaking Emily out of her revere as she walked Hotch's quick step, towards David.

"Wha…" the question died on his lips when he came level with Rossi's stance eyes looking the body laying prone in front of him. "How?"

"Someone care to share with the rest of the clueless class here," Monroe asked, impatience to know who he had lying dead in his town, not three miles from the high school grounds.

"But how?" JJ began bight blue eyes shocked wide with fright, "he's not suppose to be in town, how in the sam hell did Foyet get him here?"

A deep growl left Monroe mouth, lips curling into a sneer, "Again I ask if ya'll know somethin' please by all means share cause this bull shite guessin' is driving me crazy."

Clearing his throat, Reid spoke up, "His name is Kevin Lynch he works for the FBI, a hacker and suppose to be on the other side of the continent."

"How'd yea know maybe he's got family issues he needed to come back and take care of, either way he's a stiff now. What's he to ya?" Monroe questioned, glancing down at a mop of dark brown, blood splattered hair.

"He use to work in the Federal building here in Quantico and dated a member of this team," Rossi asked raking strong fingers through his dark hair.

"But why Lynch, he's nothing to any of us not even Pen any more?" Emily asked, glancing once more at the man she once knew though not very well, she still felt remorse for him.

"That he can and will get to anyone we hold or in this case ever held dear to us. To prove he's better then us, to scare us into thinking he's won this little game," Hotch answered disgusted dripping from his voice. Yet fear clutched at his heart, as his thoughts strayed towards Jessica and her new husband who currently were held up in DC being closely watched and guarded by Agent Anderson and two other trusted agents who Hotch personally selected to keep them safe, he didn't want Jack to lose someone else he loved to this made man for no other reason, but revenge.

"Why the over kill, though?" JJ asked turning away from the gruesome scene her stomach churning, bile rising in the back of her throat.

Reid every curious had moved forward to get better look at the body, counting every stab wound, bruise and cut cataloguing them into his mind. "Anger maybe, but that begs the question why as well. He didn't know Lynch, never met him in his life that we know of."

"Smith." Emily stated simply waiting to smack something.

"What's he got…?" Rossi halted mid sentence realization dawning in his mind, "information. What department did he work in?"

"HR I think," JJ answered back still turned, even after seeing countless victims the scene, because it was someone she knew, disturbed her even more. She felt a large warm hand come to rest on the small of her back, drawing circles in a soothing motion.

"You all right Jen?" David's deep voice, asked against her ear, not caring if they had an audience or not.

"I'll be fine once we catch that bastard," she replied turning her head just a fraction to stare up into the warm brown eyes gaining strength from the simplest of gestures. "What about Will?" the question ripped from her thoughts as she caught sight of Lynch's bare blooded foot.

"We can check on him, love don't worry," David reassured through a deep pang of jealousy tore at his heart.

She caught the sudden look of weariness in his eyes and touched his cheek causing him to look back at her, "For Henry only Dave he's may past."

He nodded in reassurance, but still a shadow of the green eyed monster still lingered.

"Detective," a new tenor voiced male said, rushing towards the older man, a plastic coved piece of paper waving around in his hand.

Monroe took the bagged evidence and quickly glanced over the contents, "This may help explain a few things," he stated handing the note over to Hotch.

Hotch

'Bout time I addressed you hu. Did you like my little present? I left him just, so you'd know no one not your family, not even your friends are safe from me. Once your team is dead, and your little brat son and I have you begging for mercy will I give it, but then were would the fun be in that. I much rather watch you suffer and live with all that blood on your hands. The end is coming Aaron you should've made that deal this would be all over by now if you had.

The Reaper

He wanted to desperately to crumple the piece of paper, more than that he wanted to wring the very life out of George Foyet limb by limb, but then he'd be no better than the monster himself.

Meanwhile, Derek stood stock still in the doorway of Kristine office, staring at Penelope's blonde head, trying in vein to curb his temper. Foolishly he'd thought she meant what she's told him, when she thought he'd been out cold from the drugs pumping through his system. He wanted to kick his own ass for being so stupid and blind, she had someone, someone that wasn't him.

"Was," she cleared her throat, emotions clogging the passageway, "was there something you needed Morgan?"

"Not from you there isn't," he spat, turning to walk away.

"Excuse me?" she answered shocked beyond belief by his harsh words.

"You heard me Garcia I want nothing from you," he returned, circling back around, to stair into hurt honey colored eyes. Internally he winced the emotion unexpected.

"Good to know Morgan, cause I don't want a damn thing from you either," she hissed turning to face the computer in front of her, tears burning the back of her eyes.

"Thank goodness we can agree on something," he retorted to the back of her head, the urge to wrap his hands around her pretty little neck growing.

Without turning to face him, "Oh your still here thought you'd be out traipsing around with your latest fling of the moment. What's the matter she get wise and dump your sorry ass?" she sneered, knowing she was hitting below the belt, but didn't care at the moment.

Shock filled his eyes, before being replaced with fiery anger, he stocked forward forcefully turning her chair to face him, looming over her menacingly, "What's your damn problem Garcia?"

Her breath caught in her throat again with him being so close, she could feel the heat of his body, smell the cologne he'd chosen to wear the very one, she'd gotten him hooked on years ago, but it was the intense look that filled his eyes, which cause her the most turmoil. Steeling herself, she answered, "You are."

A sarcastic laugh filled the medium sized office, as Morgan pushed away from Garcia a hand going to the back of his neck in frustration, "That's rich woman," he growled, "you've been back a totally of three days and I'm your problem. Well you know what I can fix that one for ya, sugar."

"Then why the hell don't you," she spat, standing up, her body still shacking, but determination filled her, to stand and face the man in front of her.

"Because you owe me an explanation," he tossed at her.

"Ha," he flung back, "I owe you nothing."

"The hell you don't, you leave without so much as a goodbye, never explaining why you decided to go, never filled me in on anything just a damn fucking box with our stuff inside."

"It's not like you cared anyway Derek, you had your little tartly to sooth your wounded pride. I'm sure you were glad to be rid of me," she regretted the words as soon as they left her lips, seeing him flinch.

"I wasn't glad your were gone Garcia I was pissed, and still am," he fumed pacing the floor, foot steps muffled by the carpet. "You left us, me with nothing."

The pain in his voice tore at her heart, at the icy wall's built up around the most important muscle in the body against this man pacing before her, "I damn sure couldn't stay here."

"Why the hell not," he roared, stopping just inches from her, "what the hell was so bad that you had to turn tale and run."

"None of your damn business, now if you'll…"

He interrupted her grabbed her shoulders and giving her a little shake, "Yes it is my business, you were my best friend and you just up and left me."

"Ha," she spat again, shaking his hands off her body, "some friend you were, didn't even tell me you were in a serious relationship, had to find that one out on my own, which was just fine. You hadn't spoken to me properly in months you let our friendship die a cold hard death Derek."

He felt like someone had punched him in the gut, "I let, bull shit woman, you were there just as such as I was if not more, so."

"Oh of course like most men blame it on us, kick us when were down, so typical of you," she returned wrapping her arms around her waist protectively, "did it ever occur to you that you're the reason I left." This time she was sure she struck a nerve, she watched the tick in his cheek beat slowly, his jaw flexing like he was trying to think of something to say.

"Did it ever occur to you to tell me what the hell was going on with you," he yelled in return anger boiling inside his veins as he moved closer towards her. "I thought we always could talk to one nothing. I guess I was wrong on that account to. YOU LEFT ME remember not the other way around, so don't go sayin' that I'm the reason you left."

Penelope took a step backward, she didn't want to give away her heart to his man, even though she all ready had, and all she'd got back was pieces. Steeling her spine she glared at him, "Yea that's right I left you, cause I damn sure didn't want to be around you anymore. Parading your girlfriends and latest bed conquests in front of my eyes and for the whole fucking world to see, I was tried of this life tried of you," she lied, she would never have grown tried of him, just tried of waiting for him to open his eyes and see what was right in front of him the whole time. Sparing a quick glance at his left wrist, she received the shock of her life when there sitting wrapped around the strength of his arm, was the very watch she gave him just last night.

He shook his head, cornering her, bracing his good hand flat against the wall behind her, "You didn't even mean it did you?"

He was so close, she could feel the heat of his warm minty breath coast over her lips, and face sending shivers down her spine, "Mean what?" 'Oh please God, he didn't hear what I told him did he?' she thought to herself, watching a smug sneering smile lift the corners of his lips.

"I heard every word you said to me in the hospital Garcia, but you didn't mean a one of them did you?"

She tried to think of a way to escape an exit strategy to keep her from losing the last shred of her heart, "Only one of them did I mean," she answered, 'I love you,' but she couldn't nor wouldn't tell him that her stubborn pride held her in place.

"Which is," he asked, lowly, chocolate eyes boring into honey orbs, trying to read her thoughts.

"That…" she cleared her throat, "that when this case is finished I'm returning home to New York you'll never see me again."

Her words stung like a slap to the face, yet he didn't move, couldn't move she took his heart out doing the cha cha over the only piece that remained before handing it back to him. She truly didn't care about him anymore, didn't have any feelings left for what they once were, or even for what they could've become.

But something in his gut, may it be the quiver in her voice, the way she was biting her bottom lip, or the fact that her eyes had darted to his wrist that gave her away, but deep down, he knew she was lying and he was going to call her on that bluff. Slowly, he inched his right hand down the wall, to wrap around the base of her neck, his lower body keeping her trapped up against the cold dark wall. He felt the shiver run down her body.

"Tell me that you don't miss me?" he breathed turning the tables on her cooling his anger letting the lust fill his voice.

"I don't…" she stuttered, feeling his finger tips at the base of her neck electricity shooting through her, "I don't miss you."

"Lair," he breathed, inching his face closer, he didn't want to give in, didn't think his heart could take the beating, but he had to know, "you know I could always tell when you're lying baby girl."

It was music to her ears those two words, made so many defenses drop, but quickly she tried to regroup, pushing at his good shoulder, "I'm not lying Morgan, I didn't miss you."

"I missed you," he replied, softening his voice, fingers coming around to caress her cheek, "God how I missed having you around."

"I doubt it," she spat trying to regain some of her anger, yet all failed her.

"Never doubt it Penelope, I missed you, so damn much it nearly killed me," he answered feeling her body soften under his. "I can't function without you."

"You're going to have too Morgan, I don't leave here anymore, I don't work here," she answered regret filling her voice.

His eyes harden, "So he's the reason than?"

"Who?" she was confused.

"Mac!" he spat glaring down at her the hurt and pain reigniting in his veins.

"Mac has nothing to do with this, he's my boss," Penelope answered pushing more forcefully, the magic that was there broken with just a few words.

Understanding dawned in his mind, making him feel like a fool, "Move, come back here."

She shook her head, "No I can't."

Lips thinned into a fine line, "You really don't care do you?"

"Morgan, Penelope," Kristine's voice called, from the doorway.

Both looked over at her, Penelope elated that she had returned, but one look into her deep brown eyes told her it wasn't for the better.

"What is it Kris," Morgan growled hating to have been interrupted when he was, so close to getting some answers.

"The rest of the team is back, we're needed in the conference room," and she turned to walk away.

Morgan glanced back to Penelope, "We're not finished, baby girl."

"Yes, Morgan," she paused grabbing a pad of paper and pen, "we are. I have nothing more to say to you that I haven't all ready said, in both words and writing. Now we have a scum bag to catch," and she walked away out the door.

End note: well another piece finished getting oh so very close to closing this one out. Let me know what you thought.