My inactivity due to emotional turmoil was short lived, however. The minute the elevator doors slid closed, I sprinted back towards Garcia.

"Give me the address." I said by way of greeting upon reentering what Garcia dubbed her 'inner sanctum'.

"Uh, yeah, about that, Sweetie. I'd love to but Hotch-"

"Doesn't get a say. He's not her father. I'm her mother. If his kid was in danger you better believe he'd be the first one through that door and nobody on this team would step in his way to stop him on some technical B.S. Give me the address, Garcia."

With a guilty but understanding look on her face, Garcia scribbled the address neon blue Post-It note shaped like a flower.

I didn't even spare a thought to all the decent people I almost sent careening into ditches and cement dividers as I wove madly through traffic. The location was clear on the other side of town. A sketchy neighborhood on the best of days and one which I would normally have no reason to frequent. In fact, except on a single case, I had never actually been. Which the perp probably knew and used to his advantage when picking a location.

When I screeched up to the building I knew something was wrong. Too many police cars. Lights and sirens in full brilliance. Police tape and tons of Unis canvassing. Not good, not good. I could feel panic rising up from my stomach like vomit.

Without even bothering to yank the keys from the ignition I ran up the cement steps of the worn down, three story, brownstone type flat. I could hear the voices of my team up on the second floor. Skipping steps where I was able, I leapt to the second floor landing in seconds, all thoughts of subtlety and subordinance left back at Quantico in Garcia's office.

Rossi was the first to notice me. "Prentiss. You shouldn't be here." He peered over the banner of the staircase down to a few of the responding police officers who were standing below. "Escort her back down-" Rossi began, but had no time to finish as I burst into the room that his body language suggested he didn't want me entering.

The room was pink. Pink wallpaper, a small white four poster bed with pink sheets and comforter, white furniture covered with toys and stuffed animals. Her name was painted in his handwriting on her perfectly white door. Everything was perfect.

Everything but the far wall. The far wall, which at one point had been party to the same neat, pink wallpaper as the rest of the room was now marred with crimson red lettering dripping down the walls.

You should have listened. She might be safe if you had.

All of the sudden the floor wasn't beneath me. The whole world was topsy turvy and the walls had suddenly taken the place of the ceiling and floor. Morgan's strong arms caught me just before I hit the floor.

"Damn it, how did she even know where to find us?" I heard Hotch say from a far way off. "Morgan, Reid, get her out of here. Take care of her. JJ, Rossi and I will finish up here. Get her the hell out of here."

I'm not sure what happened right after that. All I could hear was blood rushing through my body, my heart pounding. I can't remember seeing anything or feeling anything (besides overwhelming numbness). My best guess is that Morgan carried me down the stairs and out of the house to the Suburban that I drove.

When I came to my senses my hands began to shake and I gasped in deep breathes. I was buckled into the back seat, on the drivers side. Reid was buckled into the middle seat right next to me, a wet washcloth in his hand and a bottle of water resting on the seat next to him. I tried to speak through my sobs but was incoherent. Reid seemed to know what I needed though, because he spoke in a soft voice, his hands clasping at my shoulders, my face, my hands, which, had I been rational, I might have thought was odd, since Spencer has never been much for physical contact.

"Emily. Listen. It wasn't blood on the walls. It wasn't. There was no evidence of a struggle, no evidence that Amy was ever there. None of those rooms match what we see on those videos he sent. It was a set up. She's most likely fine. He probably knows we're on the case now but…"

"But that just means we've got him on the defensive, Prentiss. We're going to get her back." Morgan finished for his friend.

Reid nodded encouragingly, handing me the bottle water in a way that suggested he wasn't going to negotiate on the subject of my finishing the whole damn thing. I didn't have the energy to argue so I simply took it from his thin fingered hands and downed it in a couple of gulps, staring dully out the window onto the crowded mid day traffic. I knew subconsciously we were headed back to Quantico but I couldn't find it in myself to care much.

I just wanted Amy back. Just wanted my little girl back in my arms, in my apartment, in my life. Was that too much to ask? I'd done so much, devoted so much of my life to protecting people, bringing justice to people. Didn't that count for anything?

A/N: Tell me what you think!

Edit: thanks to Cici for reminding me they're in Quantico Virginia not D.C. Mixing my fandoms there (thanks, Bones.) How could I forget?!