Hotch was desperate. Bastiana had been missing for a few hours now and there hadn't been a single sighting of her, not anywhere. Apart from some signs of a struggle they found, they had found no evidence except the blood on the bedroom he was now sitting on. He sat here like a statue, silently waiting for her to come back.
He felt like screaming and shouting it wasn't fair that Bastiana had been taken from him at the time he wanted to confess his feelings for her.
H couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it—but he had to.
FLASHBACK
Hotch stood in front of Bastiana's condo. He reached forward to knock. A few seconds passed and there was no answer. He frowned trying the doorknob. It was unlocked. Rose his eyes drown and went inside. Bastiana would definitely not have left her door unlocked with all that her brothers deal with every day. That would be asking for something bad to happen. He unholstered his weapon and walked in, tense.
The agent gasped as he saw the whole place was chaos. He definitely knew that Bastiana wasn't a slob; the whole apartment was a mess. The chairs and tables were overturned and every glass item in the room was broken. There was a bloodstain on the carpet that looked recent and Hotch couldn't take his eyes from it.
Taking a few more steps inside, Hotch sees Bastiana's empty bed and his heart begins to beat faster. Bastiana's suitcase is sitting open on the bed, a notebook and pen sitting next to it.
Then Hotch sees a gun on the bedside table, and his breathing becomes more shallow. He hurriedly goes to the bathroom, only to find it empty, with no trace of water in the shower.
Walking back over to the beds, Hotch pulls out his phone and dials Bastiana's number, seconds later, he hears Bastiana's phone ringing from the open bag on the bed.
Worry tightens in Hotch's chest as he slowly turns, surveying the rest of the room.
He spots it. The red fucking rose, he feels his heart drop into his stomach, fear clawing at his chest.
For several long moments, Hotch stands there staring at the rose and its contents, barely daring to breathe. The unsub has Bastiana, that much is obvious.
Hotch feels his body begin to shake with rage and fear as he sets the rose back on the table, taking out his cell phone but he heard a noise from the door.
Hotch carefully walks toward the living room with the gun in his hand, only to hear a voice but not by the person Hotch hoped to see.
"Put the gun away, James Bond,"Harvey commented idly.
"Specter," Hotch greeted him with narrowed eyes.
"Hotchner," Harvey greeted back and if they weren't standing in the living room of Bastiana´s condo you could have mistaken it for a Western showdown.
Having a smug expression over his face the lawyer walks towards the Agent but it disappeared when he saw the mess around the room.
"Where Bastiana is?."Harvey said, his voice a scared whispered forced out of his throat.
There's no other way to read the way Hotch's face falls - he's heartbroken.
END FLASHBACK
Hotch return to the present as the red spot of blood coated the cream white paint. Hotch closed his eyes. He had no idea what had happened there, but he needed to find out; he needed to find Bastiana, because whoever took the lawyer was not sane, not if you looked at all of the carnage caused in the house. "Hotch!" Morgan's voice called from the living room and Hotch squared his shoulders.
"Coming," he looked around one more time, his eye landed on Bastiana's phone in the suitcase, now he knew why they couldn't get hold of Bastiana, her phone was left behind, making it impossible for them to trace Bastiana's whereabouts.
Hotch walks out of the lawyer's bedroom. Morgan's voice could still be heard in the living room. It sounded like he was on the phone to the office, calling in a team to come and assist. Hotch knew he had to let Reis know what was going on. He could hear Prentiss talking at the front door and realized that Rossi had arrived. Blocking them from his mind for a moment, he rounded the corner, and this time his knees did buckle beneath him. The wooden floor was hard, but it didn't matter, not as he took in what was in front of him. The handmade solid Meranti sideboard was shoved to the side. The pictures displayed on it were on the floor. Their frames were broken, the glass cracked. But, it was the overturned chair that held his attention. Beside it was a large puddle of blood. Hotch had no idea whose blood it was, but his gut – his gut told him it was Bastiana's blood. He reached for the old Yale sweatshirt that hung over the next chair before Prentiss's hand covered his wrist and held him back. Hotch lifted his head.
"We'll find her, Hotch. I promise, we'll find Bastiana and we'll bring her back." Prentiss squeezed Hotch's wrist in support before reaching out and helping Hotch up from the hard floor. "Benson's team is here, I'll let them in." Prentiss excused herself and left Hotch behind. Giving her boss and mentor just that moment he needed to gather himself. To get a grip on his wayward emotions and to get himself geared up for what was to come.
"I'll find you, Bastiana, just hold on. I'm, coming." Hotch dragged a hand over his face, and then pulled his shoulders back. Any sign of emotion left his face; his eyes were bright and hard. It was time to hunt, to search, and to find those responsible for taking what belonged to him. It was time to do his job.
The rain poured down, thundering harder than she'd ever heard it. She seemed to feel it in her bones. It couldn't dampen the pain in her head, in her heart.
She has been taken by a crazy man. Someone took her away from her work...
"You are really a selfish bitch."Said a voice in her head."Someone has kidnapped you and the only thought you have is about your job?"
Her hands shaking in fear as she did the best thing she could do which was breath in and out of her nose and she felt she had calmed down and had gotten out of bed. She slowly walked to the door opening the door to see a female with dark blonde hair that goes to her the same height as Bastiana. She`s taller than her now because she`s wearing boots that are `s wearing a black dress as well with a white belt around his waist.
It's time.", she said.
"Time for what?", Bastiana asked, being detained and pulled out of the room.
"To attend dinner with the master"
Bastiana opened her mouth and closed it. This was it.
She was guided to a room to get herself cleaned and if she wanted, to change clothes. She noticed fresh water in a big bathtub, ornated with small flowers. The same pattern in an old water jug. There were a washcloth and a pristine soap, in a handmade case, a small bow on it.
She took her dirty tank top off and tried to wash the sweat and dirt away from her skin with the cloth. She was standing in front of the mirror wearing her bra and jeans. She chose a white shirt with a round neck for herself, suddenly feeling the need to cover herself.
She noticed something on the floor. It was a thin piece of steel, about a quarter of an inch wide and two inches long. Sharp on the other end. She put it in her pocket.
When she was ready, she was guided to a private dining room. A man was already there wearing a white dress shirt and black pants. The candles lit on the table, shining soft yellow light, a vase of white lilies in the middle.
"Hello Bastiana.", his voice sounding soft.
"Hi."
She was going for the chair but he got up and pulled it for her. "Here you are."
"Thank you."
She sat down, trying to have something to do with her hands. She found the napkin, opened it, and put it on her lap.
The waiter brought the food and served it to them.
"Thank you.", Bastiana said.
"That's all for now.", He said and told her to leave with a gesture.
She hadn't seen food for what seemed like ages ago. She took a bite of the meat.
"You know who I am?", The man asked her.
"From the moment in which my eyes find yours."She said, gazing him blatantly.
She sat down, trying to have something to do with her hands. She found the napkin, opened it, and put it on her lap.
The waiter brought the food and served it to them.
"Thank you.", Bastiana said.
"That's all for now.", He said and told her to leave with a gesture.
She hadn't seen food for what seemed like ages ago. She took a bite of the meat.
"You know who I am?", The man asked her.
"From the moment my eyes find yours."She said, gazing him blatantly.
FLASHBACK
She opens her eyes and looks around her, she is in a large, white bedroom, filled with matching furnishings. Her eyes fall on to a full bookshelf at the other end of the room, not a big reader even she can't deny the luxury of having so many books, Spencer would kill to see that many books in one place, she thinks, her thoughts dwindling on her family, my family who think I'm dead, I need to find a way out.
She slowly pushes herself up from the bed, her head spins and she sits on the edge for a moment before getting up again, she looks around the room again, three possible exits. Double doors which she guesses lead out of the bedroom to the rest of the house, another door single door on the wall by the other side of the bed, and three large windows.
She moves around to the other side of the bed and through the single door, it opens to a bathroom, without any windows, she moves to the windows in the bedroom and when she pulls back the net curtains and finds them all barred, she tries the doors leading to the rest of the house and finds them locked.
She turns and rests her body against the doors, leaning her head back against them she closes her eyes and lets out a frustrated groan, as she opens her eyes and spots an exit she hadn't seen in her first evaluation of the room.
Almost running across the room she moves a small side table under the air vent in the ceiling, standing on the table she begins to pry it open, after a few minutes of trying she hears an amused chuckle from behind her, she had been so caught up in her task she hadn't noticed the opening and closing of the doors to her prison,
Stepping down off the table, she turns and finds herself face to face with Alan Woodford.
"You really think I would be thoughtless enough to leave you in a room that had a way out?" He asks, chucking again, she simply stares at him without replying, instead, she thinks of ways to kill him.
"I might be lenient when it comes to women, Miss Wolf, but I'm not stupid." He smirks as he watches her; again she says nothing, instead looks around the room for a weapon, could I knock him out using that vase?
"While you're my guest I expect a certain amount of respect from you," he calmly states while he roughly grabs her chin and forces her to meet his eyes, "that includes looking at me while I'm talking to you."
She knows she doesn't have the strength to take him, not without a weapon, but she thinks of doing it anyway, her eyes flash with defiance but before she can even act on her thoughts, Woodford speaks again, "I know how much you care about your brothers and I would hate to see you suffer if they were to get hurt."
Again she says nothing, but she doesn't look away, doesn't search for a weapon or a way out, Woodford takes this as the only answer he is going to get, he releases his grip on her and walks from the room, locking the door as he leaves.
END FLASHBACK
The man's voice is so casual, so indifferent, it sends shivers down her spine. "You are a smart woman."
"I'm not being smart, I'm just a skilled trained professional in pointing out the obvious," she replied.
They continued like this for the course of the evening, Woodford making small talk as though she were a casual acquaintance and not his prisoner and Bastiana answering as little as possible, with each question growing more and more irritated by him.
The way he spoke, his calm, controlled voice; she couldn't comprehend why he was doing this, why he hadn't just killed her it was like it was all a game that she didn't understand or a joke she didn't quite get.
As their plates were taken away she couldn't hold back her confusion anymore. "Why am I here?" she asked, "Why didn't you just kill me?"
He actually laughed, but it was cold and mocking."I am not going to kill you"
Bastiana swallowed but made herself ask the question. "What do you want?"
She felt him smile against her skin, heard the little pleased sound he made. His voice, when he spoke, was a dark whisper that hinted of wicked things. The sort of things that good girls didn't think about. "I want you, Bastiana. I want your fire and your courage." He loosened the arm that bound her to trail fingers along the hem of her tank. "I want to touch you. Taste you. I want to lay you down on my bed and work you over until you're boneless and sated. I won't fall asleep with your scent around me and wake up in the morning to start it all over again."
"Copies," he said dismissively. "No one of the previous women was not as beautiful and unique as you, they were a bore and ordinary. I tried to teach them how to be you but they fail. So I had to deal with them."
Bastiana was suddenly quiet, her eyes wide.
It was him. The unsub from her brother's case. Alan Woodford was the unsub who killed sex women. For a moment she was lost in thought, when she looked up, he was still watching her, almost studying her reaction; suddenly she could no longer take the charade any longer, she got up from the table, "May I go?" she asked.
He nodded his head and watched her leave the room, he needed to possess her, to have her for himself, and if anyone thought she was alive, they would come looking for her and he needed to make sure no one would ever take her from him.
"Thirty-six hours." Benson looked over at Rollins, who was seated at her desk, her eyes fixed on nothing in particular. "No word from Hotch and the feds." She swallowed hard enough to draw Rollins's attention back to her. "We're at thirty-six hours."
"No ransom call." Rollins smacked an open hand against one of her desk drawers. "No call, no note, no email. I'm going to pretend I don't know what that means."
Benson's best female friend had been missing for thirty-six hours. The last person to hear from her had been her secretary Amy on the day Bastiana have been taken.
An hour later, NYPD and BAU detectives found traces of blood in Bastiana's living room. A few building residents had called to complain that the lobby security cameras had been turned off. No one heard any commotion, possibly because Bastiana usually left for work at 5:30 AM, earlier than most of the other residents.
In a trash bin outside the building, the detectives found Bastiana's cell shoes, with traces of blood on them. NYPD — and later the PD/FBI joint task force, brought in because Bastiana had worked some high-profile cases during the last year — hypothesized that the attacker or attackers had blindsided Bastiana while she left the building, possibly striking her in the head.
And then, more than two hours into the investigation, there was a glimmer of hope: a woman on the other side of the street had seen two men load a third into a BMW. She left for work at 5:30 in the morning, just like Bastiana, and had initially assumed that the woman, slumped with one arm across each of the other men's shoulders, was still drunk from the night before, a not-unfamiliar sight on a New York City street before six o'clock.
"Hell-oh….Earth to Olivia!?"
"Huh?" Benson was startled at Amanda's voice and her hand waving inches from her face.
Benson looked at the blonde and said "Sorry, what?"
Rollins laughed and said "Where did you go, boss? You looked a million miles away!"
"Um…"
"Sorry…it's been a couple of stressful days," Benson said stepping up and hugging Amanda tightly.
"Thanks for being here Manda."
Olivia returned the hug saying "I'm glad to be here, Liv."
Both of the women walked out of the office but the brunette comes back three hours later and most of the officers out in the field, the squad room was nearly empty. Benson was not surprised to see chief Dodds standing in the doorway.
"When did you —" Benson started to say.
"Bastiana is my family"
"Of course." Benson laid an open hand on his back and led him across the squad room, shutting the door behind her when they reached her office. As she sat with Dodds on the small couch beneath the window that looked out on the squad room, her face suddenly fell. "Chief," she said, a firmness overtaking her gentle demeanor, "Where Carisi and Dodds are?"
"All the family is gathering at Neal's house" he whispered and his face distorted from the agony that overtook him."My son with Dana, Logan, and Lola try to be strong for Neal, Sonny, Mike, and Spencer but we are falling.."
"Someone took Bastiana!"
It clicked in. He broke down in sobs. So Olivia ignored her own pain and stepped into him, to try and comfort him.
"I always thought I have more children than Michael," he said after embracing her tightly, but he knew her answer already."They all are my children after all family has nothing to do with blood."
"She stood in front of me saying that Michael married her brother. Michael becomes her family and a wolf always protect his pack" he answered after a short silence and Olivia could hardly believe that the shell of a human being in front of her was the same savvy man who successfully navigated the maze of the police department politics for years.
"Olivia, about the questioning..."
"I don't want to bring here no one of them.." she said tears rolling down her face.
He gave Bastiana a slight smile.
"I assure you, Chief, that you will find Bastiana. Nobody is going to rest until he is found." Olivia reassured.
Meanwhile, Rossi and Prentiss were at Bastiana's condo searching for pieces of evidence.
Okay, so where to start? The desk seemed to be a good place. It was the only surface in the room that was slightly messy, for a lawyer Bastiana was extremely tidy. Even saying this desk was still organized, laptop-centred, nine file holders behind the laptop that seemed to hold the same colored folders. The was blue, green, yellow, red, purple, black, white, orange, and brown. The file holders each had a heading scrawled across it in thick marker as follows, murders, drugs, mafia, money, closed. Rossi picked up one of the folders in the 'Mafia' box and flipped over the cover, and continued flicking and flicking and flicking. In just one folder Bastiana had compiled at least 100 sheets of paper, neatly organized and color coded with diagrams and study notes in margins of information on Mafia.
He moved on to the rest of the room looking at her bookcases (there was freeking three massive once) filled to the brim with fantasy, YA, Mythology, contemporary, sci-fi, law, and hundreds more. There where lipsticks and jewels on the bedside table and a bottle of whiskey.
Against the voice in Rossi's head not wanting me to pry too far, he opened the drawer in the bedside cabinet. He had to jiggle the handle a bit as it stuck halfway. He reached his hand into dislodging whatever was stuck and removed the item causing difficulties, gun. Shaking the rest of the drawer out Rossi gazed into it, a collection of pill bottles rolled forward and each made a rattling noise as they hit the front of the drawer. He picked up each bottle and took a picture of the names so Garcia could check if they were legal or not, a part of Rock wanted them desperately not to be but if Bastiana was having to take all of these, all eight of them, Bastiana might have bigger problems than any of her family expected.
They then made their way to the kitchen which was offset from the living room. "He opened the drawers the same way here too," Prentiss said.
Rossi was looking at the cupboards. "Looks like he searched in here too."
"What the hell was he looking for?" Prentiss asked.
They made their way to the bedroom. The bathroom was there.
Rossi saw the medicine cabinet was open. Aspirin and what looked like cold medicine was dumped into the sink. The linen closet was open and towels had been dragged out.
Prentiss waded through the clothes that were scattered on the floor to the closet. She saw it was empty. Looking closer she saw in the back there was a box. It was dark so she couldn't see exactly what it was. She pulled it out and held it out in the light.
"Rossi you should see this" Prentiss held out the box for Rossi to see.
"They all letters addressed to the siblings" Rossi aid looking at the inside of the box.
"Not just the siblings but for her secretary and someone Travis Tanner,"Prentiss said.
"You what I found, "Rossi said pulling a file out of the box. Over the file with red letters was wrote: Will of Bastiana Wolf.
Realization and horror-filled Emily's features, "Oh God, oh God ",
"What it is Emily"
"She was leaving!"The woman pointed at the suitcase."The letters, the will, she was running away."
The two very carefully wrapped up the box and left the apartment and went to the BAU. Rossi called it in. He wanted the apartment scrubbed for prints and guarded.
Rossi had called to tell them what they had found at Reid's apartment. Rossi told Hotch about the box they had found in Reid's apartment.
Rossi had hung up the pills and the box on the evidence board when he walked in. Prentiss had set up the pictures of Bastiana's apartment on the computer screen in the conference room.
Viola took out his phone and put it on the loudspeaker as it dialed "Fountain of All Knowledge, speak and be dazzled!"
"Garcia, I sent you some pictures of pills," Rossi says avoiding Hotch's eyes."I need to down these names and search for what they are."
He cleared his throat, "Alprazolam, Temazepam, Citalopram, Sumatriptan, tramadol, and Selective Serotonin reuptake inhibitors"
What the hell are all those?" Morgan questioned.
Rossi's eyes looked sad, "Those along with Adderal and Asprin were the eight bottles of pills I found in Bastiana bed side table".
"Garcia I need them in ten minutes," Hotch said before hanging up.
"What we are going to do now?"Morgan asks.
"We need to hit the ground running," Hotch said, looking up at his team. "Anderson, will have to handle the press and get them under control."
"Morgan, go meet with the secretary of Bastiana to see if she can tell us anything about her boss's behavior or moves. Prentiss, I want you to reach her for old cases or threats toward Bastiana, talk to lawyers, or people who have socialized with her. Rossi, I need you to talk with Cody Wilson and I will speak with Captain Benson"
"What about the family?"Morgan commented.
Hotch sighed and closed his eye again, trying to relax into the cushy seat. "Captain Benson and I agree that the family is unavailable and at a very bad emotional state right now, we don't want to stress them or worry them. Reid and detective Carisi are out of this case and I want to tell you to not call or stop by them"
Watching his team leave, Hotch buried his face in his hands and wept.
''I can understand why they call Wolf-Wilson firm a cold castle"Morgan croons, eyeing the corridors with a sparkle in his eyes.
The man was looking around all the employees who were running around holding files. No one looks toward him, not even the women, the only person who was looking at him was Cody Wilson, who stared at him with an icy stare. Passed the name manager's office, he pauses outside the door, lifts a hand to smooth his pointer finger across the white printed letters: Bastiana Wolf. Managing Partner.
He pushes open the door, lets it glide back into place behind him as he walks over to the desk, leans his hands on it as he looks down onto the street below, watches cars and people scurry around like ants from his position high up in the clouds. He looks around the office, tries to imagine Bastiana works in here.
The man walks toward the office. Files, a pencil, laptop, and a lot of paperwork were over the woman's desk, four newspapers below the desk. He reads his way through the New York Times and saw a photo of the younger brother of the family, Mike Ross was stood near to his boss with a big smile on his face. He reads about a big win and a difficult case. He sets The New York Times aside, unable to read what follows. He turns, instead, to The Daily Law .Stories about Reid and Carisi for cases and what they have done to get the bad guy.
"Be careful with that one," a voice from the door makes him jump, all the more startling because he hadn't heard anyone approaching, and he had been listening. Amy is leaning against the door frame, back in jeans and a t-shirt, hair wet from a shower. "It's one of her favorites."
Morgan glances down at the paper in his hands. Nothing about it seems particularly memorable. It's detective Carisi's name on the front page by-line again, but Morgan has seen that before, in earlier issues.
"Can't imagine why." He tosses it, deliberately nonchalant, back on the table. Amy makes a face at him like she knows what Morgan is doing, and she isn't impressed. It's strange to see what is so clearly one of Hotch's expressions on someone else's face.
Amy takes the seat across from Morgan and pulls the paper closer to herself. "It was the bay that detective Carisi passed the bar. Bastiana was so excited for it who almost threw a fucking parade."She turns the paperback to face the agent."She was smiled all day and scared the shit of some associates"
Morgan snorts. He can't imagine a world like that. Amy grins like he knows exactly what Morgan is thinking."Bastiana is not a person who will show emotions in public"
The woman continued to eye him up and down. Morgan pulled his credentials. "Morgan with the FBI." He announced, and the woman dropped her guard and nodded.
''Amy Diaz'' The woman greeted, shaking Morgan's hand.
''The secretary..''
''I am not her secretary!''Amy said. She chuckled a bit.''I prefer 'Office and Life Manager'
He held his hands up. "Noted." He cocked his head to the side.''I am here t...''
'I know why are you here'' Amy's voice was cool, lacking the warmth and playfulness that has been evident only a moment ago. "My boss is missing and you are here to find dirt for her because she is a lawyer''
If looks could kill, he'd be dead twice over
"Come, sit down," Morgan said. When Amy was as settled as she was going to be, he started talking. "Bastiana has.
''Miss Wolf'' She corrected the man.
He raised an eyebrow.'' What?''
''You will address her as Miss Wolf, not as Bastiana, the only people who can call her by her name is her family and friends,''Amy said. The guy was still nervous, but that could possibly be because he was unsure of Amy's reaction, and not because he was trying to pull a con.
''Has Miss Wolf enemies?''Morgan asked, wrinkling his nose.
Amy snorted. If she started writing out a list now, she'd grow old before it was done.
"Okay, I withdraw the question," Morgan said quickly.''You noticed something off about her?''
''She was overworking herself but it was not something unusual, walking around the office like a ghost not eating, drinking or sleeping.'' Amy's tone is wry. ''She is the first person who comes to the office and the last who will leave, always focus on her work.''
''Something that you find odd?''
''One month ago and two weeks she had a huge fight with her family not only with her brothers but also with her in-law.''
''All the family against miss Wolf?''Morgan asks, surprised. The man remembered how Reid was acted those days like someone had hit his puppy.
''It's funny and scary to watch them fight Amy said, leaning forward, expression eager."Put them against each other and they are mere equals; put them together and they are a force to be reckoned with,"
"Hm," Morgan says, apparently unsatisfied. ''Something else?''
''In the last few months she has been receiving some flowers'' Amy says, and her voice comes out neutral enough. ''Some of them were from her brothers, clients, Specter, secret admirers and Hotchner''
''Hotchner?'' Morgan echoed from the office, still sounding shocked from the news.
''Dear boss of yours Amy says, not wanting to get into the history of his team.
''My boss," Morgan repeats it slowly, incredulously, feeling the unfamiliar weight of it on his tongue.
''You're wasting my time'' Amy pulls the stack of Daily Law closer to herself, starting to page through them.
''Secret admirers?''
''It was not the first time we have those things delivered in our office'' Amy taps the top paper, a Daily Law article from a week previous. ''The siblings do this thing almost every week wanting to show their love and Bastiana must find who sent it, it is like a game..''
''I can see a but coming''
Amy's face creases in thought. ''When they fight, they fight like monsters, they yell at each other ignoring for each other feelings..'' she pauses noticeably, then finishes with.''There is no way Sonny or Spencer or Mike or even Neal sent those flowers.''
The words hang in the air between them, absurd, ridiculous.
''You were aware Bastiana was leaving?''
Amy's mouth tightens. "Yes''
''She had almost abandoned her family''
Morgan doesn't know what to make of the expression on his face if it's anger or revulsion.
Amy's hand twitches on the table like she wants to curl it into a fist.''It is not of your fucking business my boss has every right to leave after her siblings didn't need her anymore. She has a life away from them and the firm and for the love of good keep your ugly nose out of other people business"
Morgan's eyes fall to the photo in front of him, all the siblings gathering in a hug smiling at the camera.
"What do you know about miss Wolf's will?"He quirks an eyebrow, and Amy shakes her head.
"Travis Tanner and I were the witnesses."She leans forward on the table. "She decided it three years ago after Spencer's kidnap, no one know what happened to take this decision but we supported her"
Amy scoffs. "Something else?"
"You look very calm for someone who her boss and friend are missing!"
"When Bastiana walks out of this door I am in charge of 215 lawyers, 78 secretaries, 793 associates, 88 paralegals, and all the people in this floor including Cody Wilson."Amy gives him a hard look." She thought me everything I know and I will not let her down"
"She wanted to leave,"Morgan repeats, incredulous.
"Bastiana's been hiding and running all her life." is all she says.
He clears his throat against a sudden tightness.
Amy does an impeccable job of pretending not to notice."All the people in the firm excluding Travis, Wilson and I think Bastiana is at a meeting with a client somewhere at China"
Morgan sniffs. "What about the letters?"
Amy feels a surge of irritation washing over her. "You found a will and some letters, do the math genius"
The look Morgan gives her is cold.
Amy rolls her eyes. "We swore to her if something happens to her, all the brothers will get those letters. I don't know what they say but I suspect that is something Bastiana couldn't ever find the courage to tell them"
"I have one last question," Morgan said, he doesn't even glance up from the report that he's reading.
Amy opens her mouth to speak, ends up yawning instead. She blinks sluggishly in Morgan's direction, tries, a second time, to work up a response, but is thwarted by a second jaw-cracking yawn. She rubs at her eyes and scowls when she sees that Morgan is watching her with a teasing grin twitching at the corner of his lips.
"Finally," Amy manages around yet another yawn.
" Among the letters, we found something unusual." he hesitates, "I wanted to..."
''Who is B.W?''
This time, the look in Amy's face is unmistakable. It's anger, and it's aimed at him.
"We're done here."
Running out of the office Morgan saw Rossi speaking with Cody Wilson.
"Bastiana Wolf can be mean as fuck. Sweet as candy. Cold as winter. Evil as hell. Or loyal like a soldier. It all depends on you'' Wilson grins.
Rossi sneered, she knew one thing about Wolf and Wilson, they defended each other fiercely, but in their eyes, anyone else was fair game. The idea of loyalty or showing anyone else, who wasn't one of the firms, some sort of affection simply wouldn't compute. Knowing this Rossi chose to play on it.
"Look I know hiding things you think you are protecting Bastiana but..."
Wilson threw a pen away and set his glare on the man."Miss Wolf"
As if Rossi needs the reminder.
"Bastiana believed privacy was the highest virtue, and the one most frequently violated. "he says, truthfully"Which leads me to the second thing you need to know."
"No one can know what she thinks or feels. I know her for years and it scares me that she had a lot of faces, the snowwoman, Bastiana Wolf or Ross. Not even her brothers can understand her."
Rossi makes low, skeptical noise.
Wilson sighs and sets about making a drink or five for the decides to just pour himself a glass of vodka and forgo avoiding the idiot agent for a few more minutes.
Alright," Rossi says slowly. "And you're… fine?"
"I'll manage," Wilson says shortly.
Rossi rolls his shoulders. He still looks skeptical. "I just wanted to warn you."
Wilson fights the urge to snap. "Thank you, but I can handle myself."
Rossi lays his hand on Wison's shoulder. "If you do need a minute—"
Wilson shrugs him off. "I won't. All I need is you find my partner but you are here wasting my time asking stupid questions"
Rossi takes another breath and turns back to the BAU.
Back to the building Garcia had google the medication and read them off to them while they were eating. Prentiss stole a frie from Morgan and Garcia coughed to get everyone's attention. "Okay so Rossi already mentioned Adderall for his ADHD and Aspirin which we all know is a pain medication and it says here can be used for migraines which would also explain the Sumatriptan which is a prescription drug for migraines"
Hotch grabbed his coffee before gave Garcia a nod as she started tapping away on her phone again.
Morgan had poured a drink for Prentiss and Garcia and was walking over to the two with them when Garcia spoke again, "Okay, Tramadol. Tramadol is a drug under the category of strong opioids, it is basically a high pain killer and can also only be given by prescription."
After the announcement that the drug was also on prescription, Hotch was becoming more relaxed, his lawyer was likely not falling into illegal drugs.
"Temazepam is a sleeping pill. It is manufactured to allow the patient to fall asleep and stay asleep for a select amount of time. Dosage to be given by GP in response to the severity of patients insomnia, not to be prescribed to patients under the age of 18 with an exception for severe cases. Also a prescription-only drug."
Garcia's nails stopped tapping on the screen of her phone and she let out an exhale, "Oh Bastiana". Her frown deepened, Hotch doesn't think he had ever seen this look on the woman's face. Morgan peered over her shoulder and his face paled slightly.
"I...I...How?". The look on his face was of utter bewilderment. "Citalopram and Selective Serotonin Re-uptake Inhibitors are also over the counter drugs." Garcia chocked out. Her voice was thick with emotions.
"What Garcia, what are they for?". Hotch was worried about what sort of drug that Bastiana was taking would cause Garcia to got her pale.
"Citalopram is an anti-depressant". The words hung in the air, making it clogged with a variety of different emotions, the silence speaking all the words that remained unsaid
That night had not been easy for Neal. He barely spoke a word after his short conversation with Dana. Even his unconscious was out to get him as he dropped into a rocky sleep.
Blood was everywhere, and there was so much of it. "Neal?" Dana's voice echoed through his mind. "Neal?! Help me!" Her voice was raw with fear, tearing through the air. But by the time he got to her, he was nothing more than a bloody mass, a skinless human being, a red pulp.
"Dana..oh, Jesus...Dana..." Neal knelt down, and the skinless corpse opened her dark brown, the whites of her eyes popping in contrast with the blood on her entire face. "This is your fault. This is your fault, Neal." As she spoke, Neal could then see her teeth through her cheeks, more flesh was falling away, she was dying, rotting right before him...
Neal flew up in bed with a deep gasp, as a hand flew to his chest. He tried to steady his breathing, and he blinked a few times before rubbing his eyes. He slipped quickly from his bed, padding out quietly through the hallways in the dark to find his wife. He hated that he'd gotten in a fight with Dana, but there wasn't really any other way to let out all the pent-up emotions he was bottling up.
Dana was fast asleep on the couch, lying on her side with her arm outstretched and her head resting on it her belly. He felt another rush of relief as he saw her breathe deeply in and out, she was all there and not a horrific bloody mess. Neal pulled up the ottoman and sat right in front of her, taking in the woman's relaxed and sleeping features for a second. He reached out tentatively, and smoothed his thumb over the short, soft hairs just next to Dana's ear, then moved up and pushed his hair from her forehead and combed his fingers through the thick brown hair at the crown of her head. Dana smiled in his sleep at the gesture, snuggling down into her pillow and let out a small snore. Neal found himself smiling and he ran his thumb over the soft hairs of her somewhat-sideburns again.
"Neal," Said a voice from behind him, the voice was nothing but concern, and that concern did nothing but make Neal want to run, scream, fight, fly away from this reality.
"Someone took her."
"Neal," And then Spencer's voice became that careful, cautious tone he used only when he was most wary of Neal's reaction. Or most worried about him.
Both of the brothers walk out of the living room toward the balcony which Mike and Sonny were sitting with a glass of whiskey in their hands.
"Bastiana...she is...Oh my god..my sister."Neal snorted then, shaking his head and laughing brokenly again.
... I can't do it anymore, brother,"
The sound of Sonny's broken voice frozen Neal, Mike, and Spencer in their places.
They stopped, holding their breath, straining to hear, waiting for Sonny to speak again.
"I can't," Sonny repeated, and Mike's heart ached at the pain in Sonny's voice, both desperate and scared to know the cause of it.
"We haven't talked to Bastiana for almost a month and now she is gone."
"She is going to be ok."
At the soft reply Mime gave, Sonny leaning back against the balcony, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides as his face was turned up toward the couch were gis husband was sleeping and avoiding Mike's.
"I don't hate her."
The wounded, tortured, out of character confession spilling from Sonny's lips had Spencer yearning to step forward, to comfort his brother himself.
"I called her a selfish bitch to her face."
The way Sonny's words collapsed into tears was painful for Neal to hear, but witnessing Mike almost scoop Sonny up in his arms as he crumpled, and the way Sonny just clung on to him for support was almost like torture for Neal himself.
"At least you didn't tell her that you hate her like someone else."Mike's voice was low, dangerous, and he felt an odd sense of satisfaction at the way Neal swallowed awkwardly as a result.
Spencer's face took on that expression Neal had come to recognize as nervous, as though he was holding his breath waiting for Neal's response.
But then…he bursts out laughing.
And Sonny doesn't understand what's so funny. He glares at Neal for a long time before the man answered.
Spencer's face took on that expression Neal had come to recognize as nervous, as though he was holding his breath waiting for Neal's response.
But then…he bursts out laughing.
And Sonny doesn't understand what's so funny. He glares at Neal for a long time before the man answered.
"Don't pretend to be a good little brother Michael. Not with all the things you have told to her."
Mike flinched. There was a stunned look on his face as he stared at his older brother. His mouth opened for a second or two before he forcibly shut it. He couldn't believe Neal knew.
"What are you talking about?" Spencer looked from Mike who had gone rather pale to Neal who was pinning Mike with an icy stare.
"I don't know-" Mike began nervously.
"You don't know?" Neal asks, his voice more aggressive than before."The day she showed up to your house wanting to see you, dear brother of mine called her names and yell at her ..."
"I didn't..."Mike doesn't know how to finish his sentence. The older brother looks away for a second before he quietly interjects.
"It doesn't matter, she was your sister. After all those years she had shown in front of your door and you told her to go to hell."
"I didn't know." Mike's voice breaks and he clears his throat. Neal straightens his back as he awaits Mike's answer." You and Sonny were the only people who were known the truth, leaving me and Spencer in the dark. For years we worship Edith while that bitch kicked Bastiana out of our lives.."
Mike's jaw slacks. Sonny is looking away again like he is trying to avoid Mike's eyes. His voice is calm as he explains:
"It was the best idea we had during that time."Sonny whispered."We thought that if you guys knew the truth we will hate Edith, the woman who was supposed to raise us after the funeral."Sonny bit at his lip and closed his eyes, but the tears started to fall past his squeezed eyelids anyway. "You don't know who pain you caused to ua by hearing you guys telling things about Bastiana or what Neal did the night that tell you about our sister. We couldn't let you guys hate Edith, can you imagine all the tears and screams in our house if you guys knew the truth. We wanted to have a normal life."
"Oh," is Spencer's quiet response. They sit in silence for a while.
"I…" Spencer's voice is cautious. "I guess I get it. Don't you?"
Mike's eyes snap open and he stares at Spencer. Does he get it? Does it even matter? Does it make it any less painful? Spencer doesn't read his thoughts from his stare and elaborates.
With a final pause of helplessness Sonny watched, Mike quietly left the balcony, closing the door silently behind him.
Mike went to the room of Bastiana when she stays at Neal and closes the door. At the soft click of the door closing, Mike's shoulders sagged. He stared down at his hands, curled them up into fists, and felt the sudden urge to strike out, hit something, anything, anything at all to channel the pain he was feeling elsewhere. Breathing shallowly he tried to force that need away, closing his eyes, fighting back his instincts to just scream, and rage, and burn the world around him.
In bittersweet contrast to how he was feeling, Mike gently took a photo from the nightstand and folded it into a neat pile that he put on the foot of the bed.
"Well maybe if you didn't act so cold and heartless all the time people wouldn't say that about you"Mike's words still echo in his mind.
A choked sob escaped him; He couldn't believe that was the last words who have been told by him to her.
Mike put the photo against his chest and rested his head there for a moment, berating himself for not being strong enough to keep himself together. With a set of his shoulders, he forced himself upright, clenching his fists tightly enough for his fingernails to dig into the wood of his palms, nodding out to the emptiness of the room.
He could do this. He had to.
Silence rushed at him, blasting him with realization and memories that may as well have been little more than dreams, and when he could take no more he grabbed his car keys, seeking the solace of a bleak highway.
Harvey barely gets his door closed before he sinks to the ground. The last bits of energy he had used to hold himself together fade, and with them his shoulders slump. His back falls against the door and he pulls his knees close to his chest, propping his elbows on them and burying his face in his hands.
He doesn't cry.
He doesn't.
He runs his hands through his hair, and he grips tight. The pain makes it more bearable. It keeps him grounded.
"Bastiana…" his whisper is close to a whine.
For the first time in months, Harvey feels truly alone. Lonely. He had become so used to Bastiana being around him, always close, talking and fighting, that the distance physically hurts.
And he can't get the blood from the carpet out of his head.
Harvey whimpers and slides to the cold, wooden floor. His arms fall slack to his side and he stares straight ahead.
The lawyer somehow manages to leave the room and stumble the few feet into her own. She stands there for a long time, her expression dead, and her mind blank.
Bastiana plummets on her bed. She stares at the air as the first teardrops from her eye. She doesn't move, and she doesn't feel like she ever will be able to.
She can't do this. Bastiana was supposed to be on an airplane, running away from all. She takes a shaky breath and it turns into a quiet sob.
The lawyer hates crying. She hates to succumb to her feelings. But with that much taken from her, it appears fair that she crumbles.
The woman is aware that Woodford is only a few rooms down the hall, and the last thing she wants is to let him know how hard this is for Bastiana. She grits her teeth and suppresses the wail that threatens to spill while she curls her upper body. Her arms eventually move and wind around Bastiana's stomach, trying to lessen the feeling that something has been ripped right out of her core. It doesn't help, but Bastiana can't let go either.
The lawyer forces herself to stay silent, with the effect that her head feels like it is about to explode from everything stuck inside her.
She was supposed to be away. Supposed to be with him.
They had spent so much time afraid to say anything about their feelings, and when they finally did, it was stolen from them after less than a year. Bastiana regrets the time wasted. They could have had so much more time.
She can't hold back anymore, and the next sob breaks free and shakes hee violently. Tears are streaming down her face, forming wet patches on her clothes. She doesn't bother to wipe away the tears, too many are following anyway. Her breathing is ragged, but she doesn't care.
It doesn't matter anymore. It feels like nothing will matter ever again.
Who you think is the mysterious B.W?
They will find Bastiana alive?
Hotch or Specter?