** There really is a Central State Hospital in Louisville, Kentucky that has 192 beds, and a Sierra Vista Hospital in Sacramento, California which has 120 beds. Both are mental hospitals. All I did was use the names only.**
Chapter 1
Morgan sat in the plush leather chair behind the desk in Hotch's old office trying to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him, but found he had difficulty and knew why. Even though he and Garcia had carefully packed all of Hotch's personal belongings in two cardboard boxes, Morgan couldn't force himself to have them sent to Haley even after three years. A part of him was hoping that one day Hotch would be found alive, come back, reclaim his position in the BAU, and want his personal items back. So until that time, he requested Penelope store them in a closet in Hotch's office where they would be safe until such time as they either found him alive and Hotch decided if he wanted to come back, or his body was found in which case there would be only one option open. He had spoken with Haley when he called her and asked if they could hold onto Hotch's personal belongings from his office because there was still hope he would be found alive. Haley agreed only because she knew that despite the search for her husband being called off and he being presumed dead, his team still held to the faint hope he was alive. But before she had hung up her phone, she made Morgan promise that whenever the time came that the team truly believed him dead, to have those items sent to her; Morgan agreed before saying goodbye and hanging up. But Garcia suspected that wasn't all that was troubling her Chocolate God.
Try as he might, it was still Aaron Hotchner's office. Everything in it was Hotch as well as represented and defined who he was, or had been, and that couldn't be so easily packed away. So Morgan asked Garcia to find out about the office on the other side of Rossi's and see if it was available; Garcia promised she would and let him know as soon as she could. But as Penelope quietly left, he noticed David Rossi standing in the doorway. The older agent offered Garcia a weak smile as she walked by but made no effort to enter the office, instead standing in the doorway with both hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans as Morgan turned his attention to him.
"Something I can do for you, Rossi?" he asked, curious while at the same time grateful for another interruption of his thoughts.
"Not really," Rossi replied this time slowly stepping into the office until he stood in front of the desk. "I heard the tail end of your conversation with Garcia and understand you don't feel comfortable being in Hotch's old office."
Morgan sighed and clasped his hands, sitting them atop the paperwork; he continued looking at the older agent. "Yeah I do. I mean, everything in here reminds me of Hotch, and no amount of packing is gonna change that. I feel like by being in here this way is a betrayal of some kind."
Rossi nodded as he understood in a way. It felt strange to him too every time he came into his friend's old office now as well. He felt his best friend's presence in the room and although it gave him a bit of comfort, it was awkward as well. "I think I understand, Derek. But, I also think Aaron would be honored knowing you were occupying his office. It would mean much to the team because when they look up in this direction and see the lights on in Aaron's office and somebody occupying it, despite it not being Hotch, it might go a long way in offering the rest of us some comfort rather than seeing this office dark and empty with nobody inside. What I'm trying to say, Derek, is that if this office is dark and empty, it makes the possibility of Aaron's death that much more real to the team."
Morgan exhaled through his nose as he considered the older agent's words. "I understand what you're saying, Rossi," he said quietly. "But we have to move on and perhaps by me vacating Hotch's office just might bring some closure to the team. My being in here could be preventing that from happening. And that's what this team needs right now. It needs to focus on what's ahead."
"I think we got closure when we officially closed the case involving his disappearance. And that has nothing to do with you occupying his office. I'm not telling you what to do, Derek. It's just my opinion."
Morgan leaned back in the chair with his arms resting on the arms of the chair. "I haven't made a definite decision yet; I only asked Garcia to check into whether or not the office on the other side of you is available. But I'll think about what you said although I can't make any promises."
"I understand," Rossi said with a smile before turning around and walking back to his own office. Alone again, Morgan returned to his paperwork; but stopped after a few moments to look up at the open doorway and in the direction Rossi had gone.
After an hour or more, Morgan laid down his pen and looked around the office again while he thought about what Rossi had said; the agent could see Rossi had a point. Moving into Hotchner's former office did give Morgan a feeling of peace because he felt like his former boss was with him, at least in spirit. But on the other hand, he still felt uncomfortable. He breathed out through his nose and shook his head.
"I just wish I knew why taking over your office felt like I was betraying you somehow, Hotch," he said softly.
JJ stared at the folder in front of her after she hung up the telephone in her office, then cupped her chin in both hands with elbows on the table. She had just gotten off the telephone with the local police chief in charge of the police department in Sacramento, California, filled her in on his case, and asked for the BAU's help. She let out a deep breath. From the moment the police chief had begun explaining the details of the case to her, she had a sense of déjà vu. It couldn't be happening again, it just couldn't. Normally JJ would feel the rush of excitement whenever the BAU got a new case, but not with this one. This case not only caused a feeling of dread, but felt like a knife through the heart.
Deep down, she didn't want to take this case but of the four telephone calls she had received so far asking for the BAU's assistance, this one stood out the most. But it was also the least of the four she wanted herself and the team to become involved in. It would re-open old wounds that were still fresh for everyone; but they were all professionals and had a job to do regardless of how personal a case might be. And nothing would be as personal as this one; but that would be Morgan's final decision to make as to whether or not the team went to Sacramento to help.
"Something wrong, JJ?" asked a familiar female voice. Looking up, JJ noticed Garcia standing in the doorway of her office, a look of concern plastered on her face and in her eyes which were hidden behind red-framed glasses highlighted by her shoulder-length blond hair with its pink strands. She watched the media liaison rest her forehead in an open palm and shake her head. "JJ?" Garcia asked again.
JJ sighed and looked up at her friend. "I'm all right, Garcia. It's just that….I got a call about a case that I don't know if we should accept it or not."
"Why? What is it?"
JJ smiled slightly. "I guess I just feel a little off today considering a few days ago we remembered Hotch. I'll be all right." Her blue eyes narrowed. "Why are you here anyway? Is there something you need?"
"It's okay," Garcia said. "It's not important. It'll keep. We'll talk later. Bye." The tech analyst turned and fled before JJ could even get out of her seat or respond. Getting to her feet, she ran to the door in time to see Garcia disappear in the direction of the elevators and sighed wearily. She sensed her best friend was as on edge as she. Only two days ago they had gathered at the local bar in Quantico to remember Aaron Hotchner and it always left all of them a little shaky for a day or so afterward. That special day each year was tough on everybody, and even after three years it still wasn't getting easier. Swallowing the building lump in her throat, JJ walked back to her desk, grabbed the file, and walked out in the direction of Morgan's office to inform him of their new case in Sacramento.
Morgan was still reviewing paperwork when there was a knock on his door. Looking up, he noticed JJ standing in the doorway holding a folder. "What is it, JJ?" he asked.
"I received a call from the police chief in Sacramento, California," she replied stepping into the office and handed her boss the file. "They need our help with a case. I told him we'd be glad to help." She bit her lower lip and bowed her head which didn't escape Morgan. He paused before looking through the file.
"What kind of case is it?" he asked. He could see something was bothering the media liaison.
"They have a serial killer targeting women recently discharged from a mental hospital," she explained quietly. JJ noticed the pale look on Morgan's face and knew how he felt. "So far there are six dead women. All the deaths have been made to resemble suicides. Sound familiar?"
"Yeah, it does," Morgan replied grimly. He flipped through the file as if his hands were stuck in glue. Just flipping through the file was proving difficult. "The exact kind of case we were working when Hotch disappeared."
"Think it could be the same UnSubs?" JJ asked folding her arms.
"Could be. We never did catch them." He handed the file back to the blond. "Get in touch with Reid and Prentiss; I'll get Rossi. Conference room in fifteen."
"Right," JJ answered as she headed out of the office leaving her Unit Chief still sitting behind his desk.
Morgan let out a deep breath as he forced himself to his feet, leaned forward with arms straight and palms flat on the desk with head bowed. Exhaling, he raised his head. It's got to be the same UnSubs, he thought to himself. And if it is, it's a sure bet they'll know where Hotch is. And if it is, I'm gonna fucking beat the information about Hotch out of them if I have to. With that, Morgan left the office and went next door to get Rossi.
Fifty-one year old Jackson Hunt was the best psychiatrist on the staff at Sierra Vista Hospital in Sacramento, California. He was a well-respected man in his field of psychiatry, and today would have been just another day at the office for him except for one thing; today his son Ronald and his daughter-in-law Daria, would be bringing in a new patient, an Adam Hefner who, according to Ron, had suffered a break from reality and was currently in a catatonic state but didn't appear to be a danger to himself or anybody else. Reading the man's chart while waiting for the patient to arrive, he familiarized himself with a few things. According to the records , Hefner was six feet, two inches tall, and was forty-three years of age. He apparently didn't respond to anybody verbally and only stared into space. He spent a majority of his time in a stupor showing no response to being spoken to or prodded, and maintained little or no eye contact with anybody. To the untrained eye, anybody not familiar with catatonia, the man would appear to be a vegetable but really wasn't. And he was being transferred to Sierra Vista from a hospital called Central State Hospital in Louisville, Kentucky since the man's family had moved out to Sacramento from Louisville, Kentucky.
"Doctor Hunt?" asked a voice from behind him. The doctor looked around to see a petite nurse standing behind him.
"Yes, nurse?" he asked now facing the woman.
"I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Hefner's room is ready for his arrival."
Dr. Hunt let out a deep breath and ran a hand over his graying hair. "Thank you, nurse. I'll be glad when he gets here and we get him settled in his room. Also, I'll see to his medicines after I've had a chance to examine him and have had a chance to see what he was prescribed at Central State. By the way, has anybody spoken with Mr. Hefner's wife?"
"I tried calling her and ended up leaving a call back request on her phone asking her to call us immediately once she hears the message. Do you want me to have you paged when she calls back so you can speak with her directly, doctor?"
"Please." Hunt looked at his watch. "Well, I'd better start my rounds." He handed the nurse the file on Adam Hefner, smiled, and headed in the opposite direction. As he walked away he allowed a small smile to appear that nobody knew the reasons why except himself and what he knew.
"We received a telephone call from the chief of police in Sacramento, California," JJ began as she handed each team member a copy of the file she had showed Morgan earlier. "According to the police there, Sierra Vista hospital has had six of it's former female patients turn up dead in the past eight months."
"Sierra Vista," Reid murmured with narrowed eyes. "Isn't that one of the newer mental hospitals in the city?"
"It is," JJ continued as she pressed a button on the remote and the photos of six smiling women of different ages between the ages of seventeen and twenty-eight, and of different races flashed on the screen. "These six women were at one time or another, patients there, and after undergoing treatment for various mental disorders, were deemed able to be released and return to society and their families. But after a week of being released, each woman took her own life or so it's believed."
"And the police don't agree?" asked Prentiss as she bit her lower lip knowing what the case reminded her of.
"No," JJ replied as she sat down beside her. "Although the signs of suicide were evident with each victim, the chief of police in Sacramento doesn't believe suicide was the cause of death in any case and has asked for our help."
Rossi leaning back in his chair motioning with his chin towards the photos on the screen. "And did any of these women attempt suicide before being admitted to the hospital?"
JJ looked over her shoulder for a moment. "Jennifer Lawman, the first victim, had attempted suicide by overdosing on her antidepressants but was found by her mother unconscious in her room and rushed to the local hospital where her stomach was pumped. After she was released from the hospital, her mother had her admitted to Sierra Vista for severe depression. After thirty days there she had made such good progress that she was considered well enough to leave the hospital and return home. A week later she was found unconscious again from a pill overdose, but this time she died en-route to the hospital."
"What makes the police believe these women didn't commit suicide?" asked Reid brushing strands of his long, wavy brown hair out of his eyes.
JJ turned and gave the young agent a sad look or so it seemed. "Tara Jamison, the third victim, a week after being released from Sierra Vista, was found in her home alone, with a gun in her right hand having been shot in the right temple."
Reid looked confused. "I don't get it," he said.
"According to her ex-husband, Tara only wrote with her right hand. She was predominately left-handed and although she did know how to use a gun since her ex used to be a police officer, she always fired a weapon using her left hand only."
Morgan's eyes scanned his team. "Look, we all know this case is similar to the one we were working when Hotch disappeared three years ago and as the UnSubs from that case were never caught, it's possible they may be involved in this case. If anybody feels they cannot work this case tell me now. I promise I won't be upset." He looked around at each agent. "Reid?" he asked, eyes fixated on the agent he thought of as a younger brother.
Reid swallowed hard. "I'll be there," he said quietly.
"Prentiss?"
"I have no problem working the case."
"JJ?"
"I'm on it," she replied with a small smile.
"Rossi?"
The older agent exhaled as he closed the file in front of him. "We didn't get the UnSubs from the first case when Aaron disappeared three years ago," he said softly. "If these are the same UnSubs, I say let's get 'em. We owe it to Hotch."
Prentiss bit her lower lip. "Derek, what happens if these are the same UnSubs from before?"
Morgan looked at the raven-haired agent directly. "If it is the same UnSubs, then we're gonna make them tell us where Hotch is and if he's dead or alive." Seeing her nod her head, Morgan closed his file as well. "Okay everybody, wheels up in thirty," he said as he got to his feet.