AN/Enjoy, or not. Whatever floats your boat. Looking over my current stories, I realized something that many of you may be thinking. However, I'd just like to clear up the little worry in the back of your mind-I am not a sociopath. I promise. Thanks for caring ;)

I thought I would try and finish this story before the season starts.

Warnings: I don't own them.

Derek shook his head softly as he nodded in the direction of the woman at the counter pulling lightly on the young boy's arm. He and JJ were taking a coffee break while they went through potential case files in the small town diner.

Picking up on Derek's sudden change of mood, JJ turned slowly to see what had caught his attention. "What's wrong Morgan?"

He shook his head again. Seeing the young boy shift his weight from foot to foot nervously, he sighed and reluctantly whispered, "That mom over there, I bet she's a foster mom."

"Yeah?" JJ asked, her interest piqued.

"Yeah." Derek said sadly. If there was only something he could do-but he would need something more than just a suspicion before he could report this woman to the authorities.

"And?" JJ prodded.

"See the way the kid's eyes dart around nervously. As if he's waiting for-" Derek trailed off, thinking that JJ didn't need to know what this boy would be afraid of.

Unfortunately, JJ knew too well. In fact, she admired Morgan for picking up on something she would have missed-only because her back was turned.

"He's either been abused in the past, or is being abused now."

"Well what can we do, can we call social services?" JJ asked, obliviously of how this actually worked. She knew there was a system of protocols-ones that if she wasn't a sociopath, she probably would have learned for her job.

As it was, she had little need for those particular protocols.

Derek grimaced. Seeing the woman raise her voice and the boy flinch nervously, Derek had enough. "Excuse me, Jayje."

"Derek, what are you going to do." JJ grabbed his arm in a weak attempt to stop him. She'd make sure this boy had justice soon enough.

"I may not be able to do anything, but I can certainly say something-she can't get away with this-"

"And you're going to make the situation worse?" JJ retorted, "So what happens when the boy goes home tonight and she beats him-or worse-for arousing suspicions. Face it, we have to trust the system."

Derek sighed and nodded resignedly, "Sometimes I hate being a profiler."

JJ smirked, feeling once more a sense of pride at her so-called friend. Though Derek Morgan didn't have it in him to follow her line of work, he was someone she respected.

And now, it was time to do him a favor.

"Come on," She smiled, picking up the case files strewn about the table in front of them, "we'll see if Chief Barrow has any insight."

JJ smirked as she saw the woman writhing against the restraints in the chair in front of her. "How does it feel?" She asked snidely, fingering the knife in her hands.

"Oomph" The woman screamed against the gag in her mouth, which only served to make JJ chuckle softly.

"It's different, isn't it? To be helpless-" She gently dragged the kife along the woman's exposed chest, leaving a small trail of blood in her wake. "To not be able to do anything to stop it," She put more pressure on the knife, causing it to cut more deeply. The woman yelped in pain, which only made JJ's smile brighten.

"But, because I'm feeling generous, I'll let you ask me a couple of last questions." She smiled generously, swiftly ripping the duct tape off the woman's mouth and pulling out the gag. "Now did you have a question for me?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" The woman cried pathetically. "Please, I'll do anything."

JJ snorted in derision, "Are you honestly going to tell me that you don't deserve it? After what you did to those boys? You were their foster mother."

Recognition dawned in the woman's eyes and she grimaced in disgust. "Those brats?" She asked, seeing JJ nod, the woman quickly changed tactics. "It wasn't my fault! They came on to me. I didn't have a choice."

Enraged, JJ slapped the woman hard, "They were seven years old!" She screamed, "You were supposed to be a mother."

"Please-" The woman begged, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Which is exactly why I'm here," JJ bent down and whispered in the woman's ear, "Because someone needs to take out the trash"

It was 2:30 in the morning before Penelope realized when she had seen the similar case.

She was pretty certain she was going to be sick.

It can't be-there's no way!

This really couldn't be happening.

Firing up the three laptops she kept at home, her fingers flew over the keys.

"Chief of Police Robert Jareau was found dead in his barn Monday night. Authorities have concluded that his death was the result of a farm accident-funeral services will be held-"

"No, no, no, no..." Garcia shook her head. "This can't be happening. There's no way this is happening."

Her fingers pounding the keys frantically-as if willing her electronic devices to change the information they were reporting-as information just kept coming.

JJ's dad died in 94.

Pennsylvania-34 victims, starting in 1998 and ending in 2004. Washington DC-41 victims, 2004-2006.

After that, numbered victims were popping up in individual cities-Boston; LA; New York; Kansas City, MO; small towns; large towns-all of them coinciding with BAU cases.

This couldn't be happening.

Something had to be wrong.

It just had to be.