The office door creaked open a little more and pulled me out of my troubled thoughts. My head popped up and instantly I reached up to brush the stray tears off my cheeks. Hotch crossed to the desk I was sitting on, staying quiet as he turned and leaned against it at my side. We sat in silence for nearly a minute as I sniffled pathetically and tried to pull myself together. FBI agents didn't cry on a case because their friend had said a few mean things to them.

More than a few, I pointed out, replaying the last moments of the argument with Spencer again; my lip quivered and I fought back the tears that welled up. I was just making it worse, going back over what he'd thrown out at me. We have a case. My feelings need to wait.

Clearing my throat, I took a breath to steady myself and then tipped my head to look up at Hotch. "Did you and Rossi smooth things over with the Sheriff?"

"We did. He's not happy, but he's giving us until after the funerals tomorrow to try and bring Owen in on our own terms," Hotch explained, folding his arms over his chest as he added, "JJ and I also think it's a good idea to release the MPEG of Owen's latest killings to the media."

"Really?" I asked in surprise. "Won't that just put more focus on the killings and fuel him further?"

Hotch shook his head and reminded me, "Owen doesn't fit the normal mold of injustice collectors. What makes him different?"

Oh, yeah. I rubbed my temple irritably as I tried to get my brain to focus. I knew this. It had been the point I was trying to make in the profile before Spencer had gone off the rails. "Because with Owen, his injustices aren't perceived; they're real. Part of his endgame is making sure someone finally sees what he's been through. If we show him we know why he's doing this, it might suppress his urge to kill. At least for a little bit."

Hotch nodded, a hint of pride in the look he gave me as he pushed off the desk and straightened his suit. "We don't have very long. I'm running with Prentiss to touch base with the school, and I'd like you helping JJ go over the profile again. Try to get it fleshed out as much as possible so we have a little more ground to stand on."

He turned to me and held out his hands, and I couldn't help the small smile that came out. I took his offering and let him help me off the desk as I sighed, "So, less than twenty-four hours to find Owen and stop him or we'll be adding him and Jordan to the body count. Got it."

As we stepped apart and I turned to go start on the profile, Hotch caught my arm. When I looked up at him again, he asked gently, "what did Reid say to you?"

Another hit to my tender heart. Doing my best not to wince, I shrugged and dismissed, "nothing much. He's just having a bad day, that's all."

"You are aware I'm trained and quite skilled at catching insincere answers," he hinted. Though I really did want to talk with him – okay, needed to talk to him – about what had happened, it wasn't the time or the place. If I started talking, I'd start crying, and we were on a time crunch.

Instead, I patted the hand he had on my arm, turning and leading him to the door as scoffed and countered,

"No, you're not. You're a mind reader using this job as a front for your telepathic abilities."

"Oh, right. Your team conspiracy theories," he sighed; I caught the bemused smirk he was trying to keep back. "Like Rossi being in the mob."

"You know that's true," I tutted as we crossed the station to the corner we were set up in. "Emily will back me up on that."

"That doesn't surprise me, and that doesn't make you right," he retorted. Before we reached the others, he caught my arm again. When I turned to look at him, the humor was gone from his face. He looked genuinely concerned again and he pressed softly, "I know you don't want to go into it right now. But, really, are you alright?"

My lips pressed into a tight line and I took a couple moments to think through my answer before saying softly, "not totally, but in the grand scheme of things, my hurt feelings aren't as pressing as this case. I'll be okay."

To my surprise, Hotch stepped up and pulled me into a hug. It was brief and one-armed, but it was enough to settle some of the hurt that Spencer had thrown onto me. As he pulled back, he promised, "we'll talk when this is over. If you need anything before then, tell me. Alright?"

"Sir, yes, sir," I teased as we pulled back, giving him my most convincing smile. After a couple more moments of studying me – probably to make sure I didn't burst into tears or collapse in a heap at his feet – he gave my shoulder a squeeze and left me with Emily and JJ.

Both women had been not-so-subtly watching us, and when I turned to face them they both paused and then instantly turned to the board.

"Smooth," I teased them as I came up beside JJ, nudging her arm with mine. "Alright. What've we got?"

She passed me a stack of papers and photos she'd been holding and nodded to the board. "Garcia's going over the school's social media site, and Emily's working through the class list to try and see if we can figure out Owen's next target. I need you and your profiler brain to help me get this all a little more organized."

"To be fair, I'm only really half a profiler right now," I pointed out as I flipped through the photos. Emily, passing by us to the copy machine, paused and rested a hand on JJ's shoulders.

"And JJ's a brilliant liaison, so between the two of you, you make one whole profiler."

I snorted at the look JJ threw her as Emily smartly skirted out of her reach, throwing an impish grin our direction. As JJ turned to the table to start gathering another heap for me to sort through, I busied myself with tacking up what I had, working in compatible silence.

Which lasted all of ten minutes before she asked me casually, "what'd Spence say to you?"

My hand paused halfway to the board, trying to ignore the somber ache that flickered to life. "Oh, um, it was nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing," she hedged, and that got me looking back at her, surprised. She gave a small, apologetic smile and told me, "you guys got a little loud."

Embarrassment flooded through me and groaned, dropping my head back. "Great. So everyone heard him tearing me a new one. Great."

"Is that what he did?" she pressed. Heaving out a sigh, I gave a small nod; at the look on her face I added quickly,

"I mean, he's just – I know he didn't really mean what he said. He's having a bad day and he's frustrated."

Even as I said the words, they stirred up the frustration I was trying to hard to suppress. It was almost second nature to defend his outburst. It was… well, I knew what it was. People-pleasing. Fawning. I knew the term. I'd done a whole unit on it in practically every psychology class I'd taken the last four years. A trauma response that involves immediately moving to try and please a person to avoid conflict or confrontation.

Being raised by Mayor Rick Taylor and being stuck with Skeevy JerkFace for years had taught me time and time again that conflict never ended well for me. It was easier – and safer – to deny my own feelings and validate theirs, even when it hurt me. Comforting others was my ingrained defense mechanism.

This wasn't… it was different with Spencer. His anger hadn't felt like theirs. I wasn't afraid of him hurting me, I was just afraid of pushing him away more, of losing a friend because I was being stubborn and whiny. I was still convinced his reaction had been because of me. I hadn't stood up for him during the profile, like he'd expected. I had been siding with Hotch – regardless of the fact Hotch had been in the right – and I'd hurt him. It was no surprise he was upset with me, no surprise he'd lashed out.

As JJ studied my face – definitely seeming more like a profiler than a liaison at the moment – she said simply, "maybe it is a rough day for him. But, no matter the reason, that doesn't excuse him being hurtful to you."

"He didn't mean it," I defended again instinctively, even though I knew JJ had a point. She shrugged and pointed out,

"Even so, that's not okay. I mean, when I'm having a bad day, I don't get to take it out on the rest of the team. It wouldn't be right for me to yell at Hotch, or belittle Morgan, or reduce Emily to tears –"

"No, you just lock me out of hotel rooms in my towel at midnight and 'accidentally' fall asleep before letting me back in," Emily pointed out as she passed by, snagging a couple papers off JJ's pile.

"That was one time, and you know you deserved that," JJ argued, pointing a finger at her as she headed back to the copy machine. Emily gave her a wink and I snorted as JJ rolled her eyes. "Anyways… Em was right in saying I'm not a profiler, but that doesn't mean I don't see what you're doing."

Not sure of where she was going with that, I slowly held up the papers and the pushpin, motioning towards the board. "I kind of assumed you did –"

"I meant," she laughed, pushing my arms down and shaking her head. "I know you're putting aside your own feelings to make Spencer feel validated. You're prioritizing his hurt and his emotions over your own, and convincing yourself that how he's been acting is okay because you feel guilty when you get angry or upset at someone."

For several seconds I stared at her, absolutely flabbergasted by the fact she'd nailed everything I was feeling in a few sentences. I opened my mouth to say something, paused, and then slowly shut it again.

"I mean… yeah," I finally managed, and then went right back to my default defense of, "he has a right to be hurt, though."

"Yes, but he doesn't have the right to take it out on you. If you'd heard Morgan talking to Spencer like that, would you just sit back and let him do that?"

I debated trying to say yes, but we both knew that wasn't true. I'd jumped to Spencer's defense for things not nearly half as hurtful as what he'd said to me. When I just shook my head, JJ told me gently,

"You're fast to stand up for other people, but you don't stand up for yourself. The moment Morgan gets too harsh with his teasing or you notice Spencer's upset, you step in and defend him. When Morgan came after you at the hospital about Penelope, you didn't stand up to him. Right now, you're making excuses for Spencer's behavior when he's the one in the wrong."

Okay, okay. So… maybe it was the people-pleasing habits I'd grown up with. Spencer's response was anger, and mine was fawning.

"It's just… instinct for me to try and keep the peace," I told JJ simply, fixing my eyes on the papers and pictures in my hands. "Growing up, anger was dangerous. When dad lost his temper, we always got the brunt of it. When Connor lost his temper…" I shook my head and took a breath to keep myself focused on the here and now. "Reacting to it just fueled the fire and I always got burned. So I just diffused instead. So even if I didn't fully talk them down, the fallout wouldn't be as bad."

JJ reached out and her hand settled gently on my arm, giving me a small squeeze to get me looking up. When I met her eyes, she gave me a soft, understanding smile. "You know Spence isn't like them."

"I know," I promised; that visceral response was the first honest one of the day. JJ smiled, hearing my honesty, and pressed on,

"I'm not excusing how he's been acting, but I know it wasn't his intention to hurt you. He did, though, and it's safe to tell him as much. If he really is your friend, it's only fair to be honest; suppressing your feelings will just hurt both of you more in the long run. You don't have to lock your emotions away. If you're hurt, acknowledge it. If you're angry, don't hold it in. I know you've got a voice, and a strong backbone. Don't keep those hidden away."

JJ's affirmation hit me deeper than expected; I'd never had that growing up. My whole life, I'd always been told I was overreacting, being dramatic, being selfish and self-centered… but not this time. She was Spencer's best friend, and even so, she was assuring me it was okay to be mad at him. She was encouraging me to hold him accountable.

She was validating my feelings. She was validating me.

"Thanks, Jayje. It… it really helps, hearing that out loud. You know?"

Nodding, she reached out to pull me into a hug as she promised, "I do, because I used to be the same way. Trust me when I say that self-respect feels a lot better than pleasing someone else."

There was more I wanted to say, but her phone ringing pulled us out of the moment we'd fallen into. As we pulled back, we shared an understanding smile and stepped apart. She took the call and I turned back to the board, diving back into the case, feeling ready to take on whatever came next.

Hotch hadn't gotten anything useful from the victim's parents. Not that I was surprised, considering most of the town had dismissed Owen's bullying. They'd all insisted their kid was innocent in all the harassment, it was just peer pressure, a misunderstanding… again, not saying Owen was right, but he definitely had justification for the pain he was in.

Now, we were left sitting, all but forced to wait for Owen's next move. The MPEG had been released and we hadn't gotten a peep from Owen or Jordan. Penelope and Emily had gone through the rest of Owen's classmates – and all the kids they could track down that had bullied him – and none stood out. None was worse than any of the others he'd already gone after. We had no way to get ahead of him.

Hotch had been staring at the board JJ and I put together for almost five minutes. Emily had passed on the list she'd been going through to me, and I was skimming through to see if my fresh set of eyes would pick up anything.

So far, it was a solid no.

The only reason he's still going is because of Jordan, I thought to myself, nibbling on the end of my pen as I followed my thought down the rabbit hole. Normally he would've just gone out in a blaze of glory. But he's keeping himself alive because of Jordan –

"If we can get Jordan away from Owen, we'll save her and take away his reason to live."

For half a second I actually thought I'd said that out loud, because it was nearly the exact revelation that had come to mind. When Spencer and Morgan came up to the table, though, I realized that somehow, I was on the same brainwave as the genius beside me.

Hotch and Emily gathered behind me and I sat back to look up at them as Morgan elaborated, "Owen's mother's death left him with severe issues of abandonment. If he thinks Jordan's doin' the same thing –"

"He'll take his own life," Hotch finished. Well, it was morbid, but he was right. "It'll be the only way we can save Jordan."

"How could we get her to leave him, though?" I asked, looking back at the board and then around at the others. "We have no line of communication. He hasn't even reached out about us releasing the video.

"He's kept Jordan in the dark. She doesn't know about the murders," Spencer said, his gaze dropping to me. Hurt and sadness instantly rose up, and this time I didn't try to push it away. He saw the look in my eyes and pressed his lips together, immediately looking up to Hotch instead.

"And you want to tell her," Emily guessed, thankfully segueing past that awkward few moments of silence. Morgan nodded and said,

"Yeah, if we can. We might be able to get her to turn herself in."

Hotch sighed and crossed his arms as he pointed out, "even if we could talk to her, the only person she trusts is Owen."

As our group began to deflate with that realization, Emily made a noise of surprise and said, "well, actually, there's one other person she'd listen to. And… she might even have a way to talk to Jordan."

"Her friend from school. Eileen, right?" I asked, looking back at her as the realization hit me. "You mentioned the PDA that Owen bought her –"

"The only people she uses it for are Owen and Eileen."

"Do you really think that she'll listen to her over Owen right now?" I asked. Hotch was already grabbing the SUV keys off the table and moving for the door.

"It's worth a shot, at the very least. Morgan, coordinate with Rossi and JJ, fill them in and keep us in the loop if anything happens with Owen. The rest of you, with me."

Emily and I scrambled into action, and as I made to grab my bag, Spencer beat me to it. He picked it up and held it out to me. My irritation spiked just a hint and I took it quickly, slinging it onto my shoulder and murmuring a swift thanks as I rushed after Em and Hotch.

I knew he was trying to reach out, but JJ's words stuck with me. I was upset, I had a right to be upset, and I wasn't letting how he'd treated me get brushed aside by a couple kind gestures. I wasn't a totally heartless jerk, though, and reached back to hold the door open as Spencer followed me outside. He gave me the same quiet thank you and we left it at that.

Eileen, unsurprisingly, wasn't totally on board with the plan. She, unfortunately, was the only other person in town besides Jordan that seemed to actually like Owen. It threw a wrench into our already convoluted plan, which really was the last thing we needed at the eleventh hour.

Again, the young girl sighed and looked between Emily and I, still not certain she wanted to trust us. Hotch, pacing in the hall, paused long enough at the bedroom door to give me a try to hurry this up frown.

As I gave him my wide-eyed rendition of what does it look like we're doing, Emily again tried to explain,

"Jordan doesn't know what Owen's done. She has no idea the danger she's in –"

"Owen loves her, he would never hurt her," Eileen shot down again; Hotch's eye twitched before he turned around to pace the other way. At Emily's quick nod, I stepped a little closer to the stubborn girl and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"If the police find them and there's no way out, he will," I coaxed gently, trying to be as gently insistent as I could. We didn't want to freak her out, but we needed to talk to Jordan.

When Eileen didn't relent, Emily added quickly, "We've seen it before. Even if he doesn't hurt her, she'll still get caught in the crossfire."

"We've seen that before too, and we don't want that happening. I know you don't either."

Finally, Eileen didn't instantly push back. Her face pulled into a troubled frown as she weighed her choices. At this rate, if we didn't hurry, contacting Jordan might not even matter. With how unpredictable Owen was, there was no telling how long we had until he devolved further.

"We're trying to save her," Emily insisted, clearly feeling the pressure of our timeframe starting to close. "You're the only person she'll listen to."

Eileen pressed her lips together and looked up between Emily and I, asking nervously, "and… she won't be in trouble, right?"

We both quickly shook our heads and I assured, "no. She's not in any trouble. All we wanna do is send a text to let her know what's going on. She needs to know she's not safe."

When Eileen still didn't move to help us, Emily sighed and said curtly, "look. If you want to protect her and be her friend, this is your last chance."

Well, it was a little blunt, but it was true. And more importantly, it seemed to work. Eileen sighed heavily, not happy with her choice, but she finally turned to her computer and pulled up the chat. She took a breath, and then slowly typed out,

Jordan… there are some people with me who want to talk to you. Listen to what they have to say, they are with the FBI. Here they are.

There was one last moment of hesitation, and then she hit send and pushed back from the desk.

"You're doing the right thing," I promised her; she didn't look at me as she skirted past me and mumbled,

"It don't feel right."

Emily gave my arm a squeeze as she slipped past me, following Eileen out of the room as Hotch and Spencer rushed in. Hotch motioned quickly for me to sit and I took Eileen's place, scooting up to the computer and looking up at him, ready for instruction.

"Send her the news coverage," he murmured, folding his arms to watch as I worked. I pulled up the link and as soon as I sent it, Spencer leaned down beside me. Being so close to him suddenly caught me off guard, and my mind instantly scattered as the soft scent of leather and coffee swept around me. Even with as upset with him as I was, the familiarity of Spencer still calmed the nerves that were starting to frazzle.

"Tell her to look at the pictures," he prompted, and as I typed he added, "and that we know Owen didn't tell her what he did."

I sent the message, and a couple moments later Jordan replied,

IT'S A LIE. YOU ARE LIARS.

Spencer and I both sighed as Hotch's frown got impossibly deeper. After a second of deliberation, he dug something out of his pocket and then held out a flash drive to me. "Send the MPEG."

"What?" I hesitated, looking up at him uncertainly. "Are you sure? That's a little much –"

"Aria, do it."

Well, if he was sure... Reluctantly, I took the flash drive and plugged it in. As I was loading the video, Spencer added, "Tell her that when the police come, Owen will kill her, and then kill himself."

Again, I paused. Spencer leaned a little closer to me and explained, "we have to make sure she knows the reality of the situation. It's a lot for her to take in, but it's the quickest way to get through to her."

Again, I wasn't totally sold that it was the best idea, but we really were pressed for time and we needed to work fast. As soon as the video loaded, I typed out what Spencer had said, took a breath, and sent the message. There were a few minutes of silence, and then another message popped up.

You lie. Owen loves me.

Before we could even come up with a response, the chat beeped and a new notice appeared: JNorris has logged off

"Now what?" I asked, turning in concern to look up at Hotch. He didn't look as panicked as I felt. We'd just lost our connection to Jordan, and if we'd upset her and she went to Owen…

"We planted the seed. Now we wait," he explained, seeing the turmoil on my face. "It was a lot to put on her at once and she needs to process it."

Though I didn't want to think it could happen, I had to ask, "what if she processes it and still doesn't believe us?"

Hotch was silent for a moment, and then just told me simply, "we'll worry about that if we get to that conclusion."

"Jordan's a smart girl. She'll put the pieces together and she'll realize we're telling the truth," Spencer assured, catching the still uneasy frown on my face. "It's highly unlikely she'll ask Owen about what we've –"

The computer pinged, and we all looked back to the chat.

JNorris has logged on

"She's back!" I breathed in relief, leaning forward, eagerly waiting for her to send another message. After another few seconds she sent,

You were right… what do I do?

"We need to find out where she's at," Hotch instructed. I typed fast and sent it instantly, holding my breath, praying she'd reply just as fast.

If I tell you… you will hurt him.

"She isn't going to give him up," Spencer murmured, over my shoulder once again to read. If we weren't in the middle of a case – and I wasn't still mad at him – I would've teased him about his glasses. Honestly… with as tense and on-edge as I was, it was comforting having him close.

"Maybe she can try and get away?" I suggested, looking back to Hotch. He gave a firm nod in approval and I sent the next message. Almost instantly, she replied,

I can try.

Let us know when you're safe.

After I sent the message, again the notification she'd logged off popped up. A small, hopeful smile crept onto my face as I propped my elbows on the desk, resting my chin on my clasped hands to watch the chat. Spencer and Hotch were both crouched down on either side of me, all of us perfectly still, barely breathing, waiting for her to message us again.

Just a couple minutes of the near unbearable waiting came to an end when JNorris has logged on popped up again. Just as I started to sit up in relief, the message that popped up read,

You turned her against me.

"Owen," I breathed, whipping around to look at Hotch in horror. "Please tell me we didn't just get that poor girl killed."

He met my panicked look with a heavy, brooding stare that only made the guilt rush through me faster. Desperate for reassurance, I turned to Spencer. He looked just as stricken as I felt. The chat beeped one more time. JNorris has logged off. My heart sank into my stomach and I let out a shaky breath, dropping my face into my hands.

Had we just added another name to the list of Owen's victims?

The ride back to the station had been painfully quiet.

Normally, Emily I put on some music at the very least, but we'd spent the fifteen minute drive lost in our own thoughts. Hotch had assured us we'd done the right thing, that it had been the best option we'd had to work with, but it really wasn't much comfort. The few messages we'd sent – that I'd sent – might've gotten Jordan killed.

The thought sent another wave of guilt through me and my head swam; I plunked my face into my hand and took a breath to settle myself. I had no idea if I felt awful because of the case, or because I hadn't eaten all day. Honestly it was probably a combination of both.

Again, I tried to focus on the papers in front of me. We were still after the get inside Owen's head schtick, and this time we were combing the town for any locations he'd target next. I'd gone over two of the lists Penny had sent us, and so far, nothing stood out.

As Emily approached, I assumed she'd hand me another sheet, but instead she sat a Wendy's bag in front of me. Totally perplexed, I looked to Emily for an answer and she told me, "nuggets with honey mustard and medium fry. Well," she plunged her hand into the bag and pulled out a few. "Probably more of a small now."

It took me a second to fully process the act of kindness Emily had just done for me. All I managed was a surprised, "you bought me nuggets?"

"No, I got myself some fries and the nuggets just came with it," she teased; as she passed behind me, I reached back and pulled her into a quick one-armed hug. "Are you doing okay?"

Popping a nugget in my mouth – and taking a break from staring uncomprehendingly at the paper in front of me – I leaned back and gave a small shrug. "I… don't know. We haven't gotten any more videos from Owen so there's still a chance Jordan's alive, right?"

"There is," she agreed. "I know Hotch told you half a dozen times but… it was the right thing to do. And Owen catching her, that's not your fault."

In lieu of answering right away I ate another nugget. I mean, I knew we'd done the best we could with a bad situation…

"It's the not knowing that kills me," I told her after a moment, shaking my head and letting out a heavy sigh. "If I just – one way or the other, you know? I just want to know if she's alright or not."

"Aria," Emily started, and I said quickly,

"I get that no news is good news but –"

"Aria," she insisted, grabbing my chin gently and turning my head to the side just in time to see Jordan Norris walk into the station. She spotted us instantly and both Emily and I scrambled to greet her.

The poor girl froze on the spot, like she half expected us to throw her to the ground and arrest her. The moment I was within arm's reach, I pulled her into a tight hug. She was caught off guard for half a second, and then instantly she hugged me back.

"I'm so glad you're okay," I told her, squeezing tight. Maybe it wasn't the most professional move, but she didn't seem to mind. I felt Jordan take a shaky breath and then tears fell onto my shoulder. I went to pull back, but her arms cinched tighter around me.

It took a couple minutes to shuffle her back to one of the empty offices. By the time we'd gotten there, JJ and Emily were already waiting; at my silent request, Em had grabbed the Wendy's bag.

As I sat Jordan down with me on the loveseat in the office, Emily passed it to me and I held it up for Jordan. "Are you hungry?"

"Oh, yes ma'am," she sniffled, quickly wiping at the tears on her cheeks. I gently pressed the bag into her hands and she took it gratefully. We gave her a couple of moments to eat, and after she'd had a few nuggets, JJ pulled up a chair to sit beside us.

"Jordan, can you tell us what happened? After you said you'd try to get away?"

She chewed slowly, contemplating her answer, but finally she gave a nod and said softly, "I… I ran outside and got to the car while Owen was… diggin'" she cut off with a shaky breath, more tears falling down her cheeks as she continued , "h-he didn't see me 'till he heard me start the truck. He tried to stop me, but I just kept drivin'.

"That's good. You did really good," I promised her, rubbing her back gently. Emily came forward and knelt in front of us, resting a hand on Jordan's knee as she said softly,

"Jordan, we need to know where Owen is. We have an agreement with Sheriff Hallum to let us try and bring him in, but that's only until after the funerals. And if Owen hurts someone before then…"

Instantly, the young girl shook her head, lip trembling. "You're just gonna hurt him –"

"We don't want to, Jordan," I assured; she looked up at me through her tears and I insisted, "Owen was bullied terribly by so many people. He wasn't treated well, and neither were you." Jordan shook her head again. "Owen needs help, and that's what we're here for. If we don't help him, we think Owen might hurt himself or someone else, and we don't want anyone else getting hurt."

Jordan sniffed and asked me softly, "you… you really don't wanna hurt him?"

"We don't. I promise."

She looked to JJ and then to Emily; when they nodded, she choked back a sob and nodded too.

"He… he's at Stratman Ranch."

Sheriff's going to Savage house, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan going to cemetery

Hotch, I mouthed to JJ, holding up my ringing phone as I slipped out of the office we'd been camped out in. We'd been waiting anxiously for a follow up about the ranch, but the first words out of Hotch's mouth squashed the bit of hope I'd scrounged up.

"He's not here," he sighed, the frustration thick in his voice. "We've got a body, a half dug grave, and a note. No Owen."

"What's the note say?" I asked, trying to keep my optimism front and center. This case was just trying to break it down at every turn.

"I'm going to return my mom's necklace," Hotch read off, and answered my next question before I could even ask it. "The Sheriff's taking some of his men to the Savage house, and Rossi and Morgan are coming with me to the cemetery Hope Savage is buried at."

"Okay, good plan," I began, and paused when I ran back over what he'd just said; he was missing a name. "What about Spencer?"

The pause on the other end instantly unsettled me. "He's going back to the station."

"Why? Is he alright?"

There was another pause, longer this time, heavier with the worry both of us were feeling. "I don't think he is."

As upset with him as I was, I couldn't ignore the concern I felt for him. He had been a jerk to me, but he was hurting. Something was wrong, and now it was enough to get Spencer headed back here when the others were off hunting a kid on a shooting spree.

"Is there anything I can do?" I offered, half expecting him to ask me to keep an eye on Spencer.

Instead, he said simply, "no. You've done enough for right now. We'll handle things on this end, and I'll call you if anything else comes up."

"Same with me," I told him. "Be careful, boss man."

"You as well," he said as he hung up. For a moment I held the phone tight to my chest, playing out the thoughts running through my head. Part of me – the part that clearly didn't learn from my mistakes the first time – was already planning out what to say to Spencer when he got here.

Yeah, try and have a heart-to-heart with him again, Aria. It worked so well the first time, I sighed, rolling my eyes at myself as I stuffed my phone away and turned to the board instead. Emily and JJ were still busy with Jordan, helping take down her statement and simultaneously keeping her calm, so I'd set to work helping the others as best I could from here.

Maybe there was something we'd missed, something in the profile or in one of the lists we'd been pouring over? I could at least start there. It wasn't much, but I felt better fretting over the board than pacing incessantly, which was really my only other option right now.

I'd fully immersed myself in the notes I was skimming through, so focused on trying to find anything that could help that I didn't even hear the station door opening. I didn't even notice the shadow that fell over the board until a voice right beside me said,

"They think he's going to his mother's grave."

I spun around so fast I almost fell over, staring incredulously up at the man who could, apparently, materialize out of thin air now. "Spencer for the love of God –"

He ignored my near heart attack to snatch the picture of Hope Savage off the board, spinning on his heel and heading for the office Jordan, Emily, and JJ were in. His words caught up to me and for a second, I looked after him, confused. Our fight earlier tabled for now, I scurried after him and asked,

"He's not? Where else would he be going?"

As was the theme of the day, he didn't answer me. Instead, he rushed up to Jordan and asked her quickly, "he was gone when we got to the ranch. I want to save his life, but I need to ask you a question. This necklace – he gave it to you?"

He pointed to the one Hope was wearing in the picture. Emily and JJ both looked at me for an explanation, but I was just as lost as they were. We had barely fleshed out anything about Owen's mom, let alone the necklace. Where was Spencer getting this from?

"Uh," Jordan began, her hand flitting to her neck on instinct. Her fingers faltered and she realized, "he did but I – I left it at the ranch."

Spencer whirled back around so fast I barely had time to jump out of his way; he was halfway across the station as he called out, "he's coming here!"

What!?

Instantly I looked back to the other two. JJ was comforting Jordan, and Emily already had her phone up to her ear, waving me off after our unhinged genius. "I've got Hotch, you get him!"

She didn't need to tell me twice.

"Spencer, wait," I called out, rushing after him across the station. He didn't slow, already halfway out the door by the time I reached him. He went to take off up the street and I barely snagged the sleeve of his sweater to hold him in place. "Spencer! Just – just stop for a second. What makes you think he's coming here?"

He glanced back at me and the look on his face put my heart in my throat. There was that deep sadness again; it was almost more painful than the hurtful words he'd thrown out earlier. "It's what I would do."

My hand tightened on his sweater and I stepped closer, heart falling from my throat to my stomach. "Okay. Look, Emily called Hotch and they others will be here soon. Just come inside –"

Spencer turned suddenly, pulling his arm free to grab hold of mine as he pushed me back into the doorway. Before I could ask what he was doing, he'd pulled his gun from his holster and pressed it into my hands.

"Aria, stay back please. I don't want you getting hurt. Just cover me, and don't shoot, okay?

"What? Spencer –" he pulled away as I tried to process what he was doing, turning from me and walking into the street. I followed his gaze and now my heart just completely stopped.

Owen was marching straight for the station, fully armed. He wasn't just coming here to try and say goodbye to Jordan. He was going to force us to shoot at him. Suicide by cop.

Spencer was trying to save him. He was walking out to meet Owen, hands up, sparing a glance at me and mouthing'don't shoot' before turning back around. Watching him going to confront Owen was like watching him walk to his death. Suicide by misunderstood loner.

"No, Spencer, come back, please come back!" I begged, starting after him. He heard my heels on the concrete and threw another look at me as he hissed,

"Stay there, Aria!"

The reality of what was happening slammed into me and panic mixed with instinct. Though my heart was racing and I felt the cold trickle of fear dripping through me, my hands were steady as I lifted the gun to cover him. If that was all I could do, I was doing it as best I could. At least, I was, until Spencer looked back to me, and then shifted a little to the right.

He was blocking my shot.

Spencer was unarmed with no damn vest, hands in the air, and there wasn't anything I could do. Hell, I couldn't even say 'fuck it' and rush out after him, because Owen would probably start shooting and take both of us out.

I was literally stuck between a brick wall and a hard place.

The fear burning through me was only outdone by the frustration of realizing how helpless I was right now. I couldn't even hear what he was saying; I had no idea what was about to happen, and I had no way to help Spencer. For a moment my vision blurred, and I blinked quickly; tears I hadn't been expecting rolled down my cheeks.

I was genuinely, whole-heartedly terrified. Just as frightened and helpless as I'd felt being stuck in that cell with Chester, as I'd been in the parking garage with Connor. Now, though, it was Spencer on the line. He'd protected me when I needed him, and he'd made sure there was no way I could do the same for him.

Right now I couldn't decide if I was more worried for him, or furious with him.

A vehicle skidded to a stop just behind me and I spared a moment to glance behind us. Oh thank God, Hotch was here! He met my desperate, tear-filled look as he, Morgan, and Rossi got out. Please help him! I begged silently; Hotch shook his head.

I looked back to Spencer and my heart sunk further, if that was even possible. He'd heard the car too, and now he was moving back and forth to block the shots from me and the rest of the team. All we could do now was watch and wait for this to unfold.

"Stay back! Right where you are!" Owen hollered, starting to lift his gun. A ragged, rough breath left me as more tears fell, watching as Spencer kept creeping towards him. It was like he didn't care that he might get shot, and that sent a whole new wave of fury swirling in with the terror. I tightened my hand on Spencer's gun. There was a chance I could get Owen with a well-aimed shot, but with how erratically Spencer was moving, I really didn't want to risk it.

Please, please be okay. Please know what you're doing, I begged Spencer silently, holding my breath as he inched closer and closer. Instead of fixating on all the ways this could go wrong, I tried to focus on what was going right. Read the scene as you see it, not as you expect it, Hotch's voice repeated in my head, one of the lessons he'd been repeating since our first training session together.

Read the scene. Owen hadn't shot yet. He was tense, but the gun wasn't fully raised. His movements were shifty, but not chaotic. He was panicked and desperate, but not fully devolved. Owen was still in control of himself, and that meant Spencer was safe. For now.

None of that changed the fact that Owen's finger was still on the trigger, and Spencer was still unprotected.

Spencer crept forward until he was just feet from Owen, arms starting to lower, his posture easing up. It should've assured me, but all I saw was the video of Owen shooting those boys. All of them gunned down in just a brief few seconds, gone before anyone could've done anything to save them.

That could be Spencer.

Owen pulled a hand off the gun, and he slowly started to reach into his jacket. My heart – my entire body – froze. What was he grabbing? Another gun? A knife? A grenade? With Owen, there was no telling, and the danger Spencer was in instantly tripled. I wasn't breathing, wasn't moving, only chanting over and over, Please don't die. Please don't die. PLEASE DON'T DIE –

Slowly, Owen pulled his hand out and time came to a stop. I braced, ready for gunfire, for Spencer to cry out in pain and drop to the ground. Instead, Owen let go of the gun strap he'd undone from his shoulder. He stepped forward, sat the rifle at Spencer's feet, and then stood with his hands up. He had surrendered. He had surrendered, and Spencer was okay.

Spencer was okay.

The relief that rushed through me was overwhelming. A choked sob left me as I finally started breathing again. As Hotch and Morgan rushed forward to help Spencer apprehend Owen, I sank down to a knee and braced a hand against the bricks. The adrenaline was finally done pumping through me and all I could do was focusing on breathing in and out as my tears fell to the concrete.

Rossi knelt in front of me, a hand coming to rest on my shoulder. Whether to give me comfort or hold me upright, I really couldn't say. Either way, his touch was appreciated. I leaned into his hold and he gave a gentle squeeze and murmured,

"Stai bene, ragazzina (you okay, kiddo)?"

Taking another shaky breath, I managed a weak, "chiedimi quando scompare la mia aritmia (ask me when my arrhythmia goes away)."

Giving a soft chuckle, Rossi took Spencer's gun for me and offered a hand up. Taking it gratefully, I stood up on shaky legs and stepped aside to let Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer pass inside with Owen.

Rossi gave my hand a squeeze before pulling away to follow them inside.

I took a few moments to pull myself together. The panic attack was still hovering over me, but the hysteria inside me was churning from fear to fury. My friend - arguably, one of my best friends - had just decided to walk himself towards what could've been his death, leaving me with no choice but to watch it all play out. What made it worse was realizing he had to have known this is what Owen was doing. He'd wanted this to happen.

There was a difference - a big difference - between the normal risks of the job, and the risk Spencer had just taken. Facing an UnSub with the team behind you and properly suited for the confrontation was dangerous enough. To evade the rest of our team and walk up to an armed, devolving UnSub un-fucking-armed was just careless, and flat out stupid.

The anger towards him I'd been suppressing for the sake of the case came back tenfold. First he'd taken his shitty day out on me, and now he had the audacity to just throw away his safety like he didn't matter to us? To me? Wiping my cheeks off and taking one last settling breath, I pulled the door open and stalked into the station. Most of the team was gathered with Jordan, while Hotch and Rossi were just disappearing to the back of the station with Owen and the Sheriff.

Spencer was standing meekly at JJ's side, and as if he felt my gaze, he looked up and met my eyes. All of the unbridled hurt and anger surfaced in the scowl I threw his direction; at least he was sensible enough to drop his eyes.

Instead of joining the others, I went back to the board to start our post-case cleanup. My hands were still shaking; it took me several minutes just to finagle the pushpins off the board. I irritably stabbed them into the cork as I took the photos, and turned to grab a folder to stuff them in.

Spencer was at the table, holding the folder I'd been planning to grab. Normally the butterflies came to life when I realized we'd hit the same brainwave. Right now it just fueled the disparaging fire inside of me.

Realizing as much, he held the folder out to me with a timid attempt at a smile. When I snatched it from him I saw it fall off his face before I put my back to him. As I busied myself with shoving everything I could into the case box, Spencer cleared his throat and started,

"I'm-I'm really sorry for –"

I spun to face him so fast I startled him. He took a step back, self preservation instincts kicking in, blinking down at me in alarm. Up until this moment I was pretty sure he'd never seen me angry, and now I was pretty sure he didn't like it.

Good.

"I'm sure you are. Like you were the last couple of times you said that today," I bit out; his face fell, but my anger didn't. "How long are you gonna be sorry for this time before you're tearing into me again?"

Nervous now, he began to fidget with the band of his watch. "Aria, I didn't – I know what I said earlier was out of line, and I –"

"Yeah, it was. It really was, Spencer. You know what else was out of line? Deciding to play Russian roulette with a mentally unstable spree shooter with a rifle." He opened his mouth - probably to try and defend his actions - and I snapped, "I don't care if you calculated the odds for him shooting you or the probability of talking him down before he lost it, or whatever else you think will make what you just did okay. You're the smartest man I know, and you just did one of the stupidest things I've ever seen."

He gave another few blinks, mind whirring into full speed to try and think of what to say back. I expected at least a little of the fire he'd had before, but instead he just gave a small nod and murmured, "I know."

There was no fight in him, no indignance or offense or even the mildest flicker of anger within him anymore. He looked sad, small, and thoroughly defeated. Though a part of me softened at the despondent look on his face, I was too hurt and angry to back down.

"I get that you're having a really shitty day, alright? Trust me, you made sure I knew exactly how that felt." He actually winced just a hint at the venom in my tone. "I know that you've had a rough couple of weeks, because as you seem to forget, I was right there with you. I'm hurting too, you know, and having you just - having you attack me, making me your verbal punching bag? That was uncalled for. But this was just –" the catch in my voice was unexpected, and I let out a shaking breath, forcing myself to keep it together. "You might not have cared about your own wellbeing just now, but we did. We do. I do. The next time you want to take a chance with your life like that, don't drag me into it too. I won't watch you do that again."

Okay, my own words had done me in. My lower lip trembled and tears pricked my eyes. I fought to push the emotion off my face but of course, Spencer saw. His face softened, which just made it worse. My heart ached; I knew that look. He wanted to comfort me, he wanted to hug me like he had after Penelope had been shot, or after Connor had attacked me.

I wanted him to, because I knew he could. What's more, he wanted to. Spencer wanted to help me fix what was hurting, but this time he couldn't. Not right now. He'd been the cause of the pain and I just couldn't push that aside yet. I went to move past him and, in a last ditch effort, Spencer reached out and caught my hand to keep me at his side.

"Aria –"

"Please don't," I whispered, trying to hide the break in my voice. I knew he'd heard it.

Spencer pulled his hand back to his chest, dropping his eyes and stepping aside to let me walk away. The chill at the loss of his touch stayed with me long into the night.

Happy Monday!...

I mean, I hope it is after this chapter... as I keep saying, I promise the pain will be worth it! I'd planned to make this a much longer chapter but between work and a concussion (keep your cabinet doors shut, y'all) the second half wasn't what I wanted it to be yet and trust me when I say it's a super important part that I want to be done a lot better than it is now! So I hope you still liked today's chapter!

Thoughts on Aria's feelings towards Spencer? Maybe you're a people pleaser too (lord I know I am) and hopefully this will help you start working towards prioritizing your needs! If not, maybe this helped give you a glimpse at what Aria's struggling with (and if you aren't I expect a full six-page report on how to be like you 😅). What about Spencer talking down Owen? I've always loved that part of the episode but my anxiety and love for our scruffy doctor always keeps me on edge!

I can't wait to hear your thoughts! You always brighten my day with your comments and I'm so looking forward to hearing from you guys this week!

Take care, be safe, and remember that you are loved ❤️