A/N: This one was tough! Rossi is a really difficult character to write cause of his history so I just got really stuck in the bit at his house. So please be kind. It's not my best work.

DISCLAIMER: Same as the past 36 chapters.

"Rossi," Morgan started, nodding towards the archive box, "What's in the box?"

Rossi looked at the box that he'd kept in his office for decades. "Evil."

The whole team could tell that this was going to be a bad case. The mutilated bodies of the women they'd found; the emotional and psychological torture of the women's families; not to mention the psychological torment Rossi was going through, realizing this could have stopped years ago.

Morgan stood from the table and took a single seat closer to the cockpit. He just needed some time to think the evidence through without the influence of the team. He opened up the file and studied the women's bodies, as they lay at the dumpsite. He reviewed the original M.E's photos and findings, hoping to find the key.

Reid took his files and went to the opposite corner of the jet. He read through each of the files, one-by-one. Hoping. Wishing. Thinking about how he could use his powers for good this time.

Rossi stared out the window of jet, at the sky flying by. He couldn't help that unhelpful thought running through his mind. If he'd just found that one final clue, that missing piece, twenty years ago… maybe these most recent victims would still be alive. Whether anyone believed it too, Rossi was sure the Butcher was responsible for these latest kills too.

Though he wasn't usually one to be affectionate while in public, and especially not when the team were on a case, Hotch couldn't help his fingers from brushing over Emily's as they sat at the table. The mutilated bodies that were passing his eyes, he needed to feel her next to him. She turned her hand over as she looked at the file in front of her, familiarizing herself with the original cases. She gently lifted Hotch's hand and placed it back on his own leg. Then, leaning over and lowering her voice, she whispered. "I get it. I do. And I promise, I'm not going anywhere." Hotch sighed and sat back in his seat, grateful for her understanding.

Hotch was standing in the kitchen, hunched over with his head in the fridge. He could feel her walk into the room and smiled to himself. Then he felt her hand in his back pocket, groping and squeezing. "Lost something?" he joked, pulling his head from the fridge and standing up straight. When he turned to face her, Emily pushed her free hand into his other back pocket, alternating squeezes. She giggled as he leant down to kiss her.

When he pulled back he sighed and leant his forehead against hers. "We've got the house to ourselves and we're still clothed? I think we should fix that," he whispered, reaching up to start on her shirt buttons. Emily removed her hands to still his and shook her head. "You've got somewhere else to be," she replied, reaching behind him, into the fridge and removing a dish.

Hotch tapped his knuckles on the door, glancing down at his shoes until he heard the door creak open.

"Hotch, what are you doing here?" Rossi said, surprised to see his friend on his doorstep. Hotch held up the dish, "Cheer-up lasagna." Rossi huffed and stood back in the door, closing it after Hotch stepped through.

"Did Emily send you?" Rossi asked when they reached the kitchen. Hotch nodded and shrugged, "But I would've come around anyway." Rossi nodded and placed the dish in the refrigerator. When he stood up he frowned slightly. "Can I get you a drink?" Hotch nodded and followed Rossi to the lounge room.

As Rossi poured the whisky, Hotch walked over to the bookshelves, perusing his friend's collection. "So what's going on with you two?" Rossi asked, handing Hotch a drink. The younger man rolled his eyes and shook his head. "That's not why I'm here," he replied sternly. Rossi nodded and gestured to the lounge chairs.

Hotch sat opposite his friend and leant back in the chair. "I'm honestly fine," Rossi started. Hotch shot him an incredulous look. Rossi opened his mouth to further defend, but raised his hands. "Fine… I'm not great," he added, "But I will be." Hotch huffed.

"Are you going to take some more leave off? I'll organize the paperwork if you'd like?" Hotch asked. Rossi shrugged and nodded. "My muse suddenly appeared last night so it might be a good idea to take another crack at it," he replied. Hotch nodded. "I'll take of it first thing tomorrow morning."

Hotch stayed for about an hour, the two men talking through the aftermath of the last case. It was just after nine when he suggested he call it a night. "I'll give you a call tomorrow to confirm your leave," Hotch said when they reached the door. Rossi nodded and held out his hand. "Tell Emily thanks for the lasagna," he said. Hotch rolled his eyes and smiled. "Goodnight Dave," he said before he headed down the path to his car.

"Rossi wanted me to thank you for the food," Hotch said, climbing into bed next to Emily. He kissed her shoulder and brushed her hair behind her ear. Emily rolled over and smiled, running her hand down Hotch's chest. "Well… I'm good for nothing if not delicious lasagnas," she whispered back.