And while for most it's still Christmas Eve as they are asleep, for me it's Christmas Day as I'm still awake after church and haven't crashed from the adrenalin yet.

This is the end folks and Lord has it been a ride. I'd like to thank every single person who has read and/or reviewed, placed me or this story on alert or added to a favorites list. There is nothing more rewarding than having one's work acknowledged and appreciated. I'm working on the next in what will hopefully be a series and will begin posting in mid-January. I'll try to keep my profile updated with reports. If you've enjoyed so far, I hope you'll keep this in your thoughts and check it out when it comes out.

Happy Holidays, whichever you celebrate.

Thanks again, everyone. You truly make this worthwhile.

Juliet work to the dawn light streaking through her window.

"Hey, Jules, you awake?"

She looked at the chair to her left and saw her uncle, seated, but now leaning forward.

"How is Tyler?" Juliet asked.

Her uncle didn't even comment that her first thought was for Tyler. "He's fine. We're… fine."

Juliet nodded slightly, understanding the implication. "Good. And, Clark?"

Roy's eyes darkened, but he answered, "Full recovery and on his way to prison. Juliet, I swear if I had known he was doing this-"

"Don't," Juliet interrupted. "No one knew. No one could have known."

"I don't deserve you."

"Uncle Roy. You took us in when Mom and Dad died; you didn't have to. I love you and Tyler. I'm just sorry that everyone was hurt because of me…"

Her last words were lost to tears and Roy lost no time in jumping up and pulling her into his arms.

"It is not your fault. Don't you even dare think that," Roy said as he rocked her gently. "You are the biggest victim in this God-forsaken mess and I am so grateful that you are alive and well."

Her uncle continued to hold her and rubbed his hand up and down her back as she cried herself out.

"Jules? Roy?"

Juliet sniffed and swiped her hand over her eyes before looking at her brother.

"So, when can I bust out of here?" she asked, struggling to smile.

"No concussion or other injuries, you're hydrated and medicated as a precaution, so as soon as we sign the paperwork, you're golden."

"And Tyler?" Roy asked.

"He'll be here for another day or two while they monitor for infection," John reported. "Here, I brought you a change of clothes."

"I'll meet you in Tyler's room," Juliet informed them both, watching the two men leave, each looking back at her before closing the door.

She pulled on the jeans and sweater, examining her body in the process. There were finger shaped bruises on her upper arms and her right wrist was red and still slightly swollen. Brushing her hair caused the skin around her face to pull and disturb the bump on her temple as well as the laceration on the back of her head from her impact with the wall.

No stab wounds. No drugs. Of all Clark's victims, she had come out the luckiest. She replayed the events in her mind, still unable to believe some of the aspects that had gone into the actions. She had played into the fantasy of her deluded stalker and then attacked him. She had watched him attack her cousin and kept the blood from seeping out of Tyler's body. She had verbally berated an FBI agent who had later supported her and guided her through their shared captivity.

Her hands were shaking again. Juliet breathed deeply and reminded herself that she and Tyler were alive. She mourned for Peter, Casey, Brian and the other two boys, but she and her cousin were alive.

She walked out of the room and went next door, finding her cousin sitting up in bed and speaking with Roy and John.

"Hey, Ty," she said quietly, using the nickname for the first time in years.

"Hey, Jules," he returned just as quietly with a smile. It was the first smile she had seen in almost two years.

Juliet ignored John's offer of his chair and perched on the bed next to Tyler. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. Tyler squeezed back.

"You okay?" he asked. Juliet wondered how much he had been told.

"I will be," she answered honestly. "I'm more worried about you."

Tyler blushed and included his father and John in his sheepish gaze. "Yeah. Sorry about all that."

Roy shook his head. "All right, before this gets any further, I want to make one thing clear." The man fixed all three of them in his gaze. "There will be no more apologies for this, hellish and tragic case from any of us beyond what we say right now. So, I'm sorry Juliet, that I didn't notice that Graham was stalking you. I'm sorry that I didn't notice that you were in danger and that I didn't listen to you when you said Tyler was innocent.

"Son, I will never forgive myself for even believing for a second that you could have possibly murdered Peter and those boys. I'm your father and I should have protected you and when I didn't, I let you run off into more danger. I will never doubt either of you again."

While Juliet struggled not to cry again, John spoke.

"I'm sorry, Tyler, that I thought you were a killer. I'm sorry that I've been pushing you and not understanding what you've been going through. Jules, I'm sorry that I failed at protecting both of you."

"I'm sorry that I've pushed everyone away," Tyler admitted. "I'm sorry that I've been a jerk and that Peter is dead."

"I'm sorry that it's because of me that Clark killed five people and hurt Tyler," Juliet confessed. "I'm sorry that I didn't trust you when I went after Tyler on my own."

Tyler's arms gingerly came around her shoulders while Juliet reached carefully around his abdomen, mindful of his stitches and bandages. John stood and supported them from behind while Roy joined them and embraced them from the front. The family remained that way for several moments.

"Now, when can I get the hell out of here?" Tyler asked.

Juliet laughed and rested her head on Tyler's shoulder as John and Roy stepped back.

"Tomorrow," Roy answered. "And then we're going to talk about some punishment for running away from John, the police, and the FBI."

Tyler groaned half-heartedly and Juliet sighed in contentment. She was with her family and they were stronger for this incident. That was all that mattered.

On the jet, Morgan had retreated into his Bose headphones, JJ and Reid had begun a game of Crazy 8's, leaving Hotch reviewing the case file and Prentiss watching him.

"Something I can do for you?" he asked without looking up.

It wasn't until he met her eyes that she spoke.

"That was an interesting case. Not often we get unsubs who think they're living a fantasy life, from a fantasy series, no less."

"There certainly wasn't a lot of evidence for it," Hotch admitted.

"I'm a little surprised Reid didn't pick up on it," Prentiss laughed.

Reid's protest carried over from where he and JJ were sitting. "It's not like Graham went out of his way to integrate his delusion into his actions. If he had incorporated other aspects of Tolkien's works such as the sigil the Uruk-hai used to represent Sauruman on his victims or even—"

Luckily, JJ elected to smack Reid's arm to cut off what would have likely been a long and detailed list of Lord of the Rings references he would have spotted. Hotch smiled and resolved to mention this case a little as possible as a preventative measure.

"Lucky he didn't get more creative," Prentiss remarked, a shade of darkness creeping into her tone.

Hotch knew why. He remembered Georgia and Tobias Hankel just as well as the rest of the team. It must have awakened very unpleasant memories when he had been kidnapped and been missing. The looks on his team members' faces when they had come storming into Graham's cabin had made that perfectly clear. The relief had been palatable when he had reported that he'd received nothing more than the blitz attack and a few punches, leaving bruises, but nothing more.

"His victims were never more than items needed for his message," Hotch said. "He showed no signs of sadism."

"Right, of course."

All of which was true, even taking the fantasy out of the profile. McCallister, as the first victim and trigger was still only drugged and stabbed post mortem. The boys had been even less connected and had had painless deaths. Even Tyler Phillips had been attacked swiftly and efficiently. There was nothing in Graham's behavior that should have truly worried his team beyond the obvious uncertainty and anxiety of his abduction. And yet.

"I wasn't even acknowledged until it was time to get rid of me," Hotch remarked. "It was Juliet who was in more danger as the focus of his delusion. If she had refused him strongly enough, he might have turned violent to convince her otherwise."

"I couldn't help but notice that you said you didn't try to talk to Graham yourself when you were coaching her on how to play him."

"She had the advantage and anything I said would have been uninformed," Hotch said curtly, trying to turn back to the file.

"Still," Prentiss went on. "It must have been hard, trusting her in that situation."

He abandoned the file, knowing Prentiss wouldn't let up until she was finished with whatever line of inquiry she had started.

"Yes," he admitted. "It was a risk, putting that much pressure on her to talk Graham down, but she was the more familiar with the fantasy and he wanted to talk with her. She could make the connection."

Prentiss smiled. "It's not like you to take a back seat. That must have been difficult."

"Not really. Juliet is a remarkable young woman. I knew she could do it."

Finally, Prentiss seemed willing to let the subject rest. "Well, she did manage to get Reid to feed a sugar cube to a horse. After that, confronting Graham must have been a piece of cake."

Reid looked affronted again while Prentiss and JJ giggled like school girls. Hotch cracked a small smile and then smiled wider when Morgan took his head phones off in surprise.

"Wait. Reid did what?"

The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places. But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater. –JRR Tolkien