A/N: I am on a roll, I am going to just keep posting as fast as I can. I probably should have waited until I have a few chapters to post at once, but this is pretty close, think I posted the first not even an hour ago. As always I do not own Criminal Minds. Enjoy.
Hotch
It's difficult at times being the Unit Cheif's Go Bad. I spend just as much time under his desk at the BAU as I do in the closet at his home. I am always on the ready, to go at a moment's notice, just as he is. My main job, to hold and protect his countless suits, shirts, ties, and his FBI standard black shoes. My side compartment holds his toothbrush and toothpaste, all-in-one shampoo and body wash, razors, and shaving cream. There is nothing special about the contents of my black polyester walls, unless, of course, you know where to look. My contents may look like what one would find within any FBI agents Go Bag, but if you were to reach into my inner stitched pocket you would discover what is most important to my owner; a single picture in a sandwich bag, a bag that protects this moment in time, from the dirt and grim of a mainly thankless, neverending, imperative job. The frozen image is that of a three-year-old boy, a birthday hat upon his head, a cake before him, and wrapped around his tiny form is a beaming and beautiful blonde woman smiling as bright as the noonday sun. These are the people most precious to my owner and I take great pride in carrying them across the country; so that when that inevitable moment arrives when my owner needs a reminder that there is good in this world, that he is fighting for something, he can gaze upon their smiling faces.
The woman, my owner's Love, is gone. I can remember the day that horrible man Foyet first invaded my owner's life. I remember being placed down at the door, the sound of a gun going off, the fighting, and then a sicking silence between groans from my owner. Then there was a splash of blood soaking into my fibers as the psycho carried my unconscious owner from the apartment. I thought I would never see him again, never accompany him on another case. Emily was the first person to come to see if my owner was alright, many FBI agents followed not long after her. Five days later my owner returned, and I knew that everything had changed, he would never be the same and by extension nor would I.
The phone has wrung, it's early in the morning, it will be another case, I am ready because the Unit Chief is always ready and so is his Go Bag.