A/N: Hardest chapter to write in a while. Hope you all like it. Also, will contain spoilers for "Omnivore".

Hotch felt his blood run cold as he heard a distictive voice over the phone. His hand gripped the receiver in a death grip as his teeth gritted together.

"I'll stop hunting them if you stop hunting me." he said in that cocky tone that was trying to seem intimidating.

"No," Hotch said, "I don't make deals. I take down people like you."

A slight growl was heard, "You're gonna regret that."

"No, you're going to regret crossing me," Hotch said before hanging up the phone, trying to hold back that slight feeling of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. No, he wasn't going to cheat the victims again, and he wasn't going to give this psycho path a chance to be free, "I'm not a man who makes deals. I'm a man who hunts people like you."

Hotch could once more hear a growl as he slammed the phone down on its receiver, glaring at it in hopes of it bursting into flames. When that didn't happen, Aaron just let out a frustrated huff and headed back into the conference room. He needed something to help find this bastard. The concentration didn't last long when Hotch received the news.

The Reaper struck again. A bus full of people, shot and killed. Numbers painted in blood on the bus windows. Hotch gazed at the scene, his usual stoic features cracking, and his hands clenched at his side. Taking in deep breaths, Hotch walked away from the crime scene and into an alley. Rossi wasn't too far behind him, a look of concern and determination on his face. Hotch whirled around in anger and guilt and started blaming himself for the whole situation, explaining to David the deal that was offerred to him and suddenly feeling something wet coming down his face. Was he crying?

"Aaron, this is not your fault."

"They wouldn't have been killed if it wasn't for me," Aaron ignored the older agent's words, allowing self-pity and guilt to wrap around him a nose. It was choking him.

"Aaron," David growled. Aaron could see the irritation on Rossi's face, "This isn't your fault damnit!"

"Then who's is it?" Hotch demanded as he felt something be choked in his throat.

"The Reaper, Aaron, you should know that. And I know that you're not the type to start a pity party."

Hotch let out a growl before reaching out for the tears that had somehow escaped. Very few people had witness him cry: his younger brother Sean who was in New York, Hailey, Jack, and of course Hinata. In either profession as a lawyer or profiler, enemies devoured those who showed vulnerability. Those with weak stomachs were not allowed, so Hotch had taught himself how to keep a professional stance. Something really big had to happen to get Hotch to let his guard down and let his tears show, or one had to know him on the most personal of levels. Some of those moments are like when Hotch couldn't handle the abuse his father- something Hinata doesn't even know- deals to him and of course his ex-wife walking out on him. And now he can add David to his short list of people, and perhaps the lost of mass lives because of choice belonging to Hotch.

"Okay, clear as day you're still enjoying your own party, so..." Rossi pulled out his gun from its holster, "If this is bothering you so much then here. End it."

Hotch gave Rossi a "what the hell" look and then looked at the gun in Rossi's hand, "That's a little bit dramantice, don't you think?"

"My wife told me I had a flare for being dramantic."

"Which one?"

"All of them," Rossi sent him a smirk, and Hotch couldn't help but feel his own smirk form on his lips, "Now that you're back to usual professional self. Let's catcth this son of a bitch."

Hotch didn't say anything, he just walked back to the crime scene, hoping no one saw the tear streaks falling from his face. He needed to be professional again. Vulnerability wasn't an option. His attention went back to the numbers painted on the windows, knowing this was the key to finding the bastard.

The numbers seemed familiar was the first thought that came to Hotch as he observed each one. Soon enough, he was blinking in realization and then pulled out a small notebook he had in the pocket inside his coat. These were the addresses to George Foyet's multiple living places. Damnit.

"We need to find George Foyet, the Reaper's after him next."

He had them split up into three teams to assess the three addresses Foyet lived in. As Rossi drove, Hotch reached into his pocket and touched his phone. He really wanted to call Hinata and simply tell her that he loved her. There were times after agents saw tons of death who instantly pulled out their phones and started calling their families just to say those three words. Hotch even did so after the bombing back in Gideon's time. Only that time it was Hailey. Treating that moment like it was the last time you would hear their voice. The thing was, Hotch wanted to not only tell her, but he wanted to show it. That 110% boundry has become a serious headache for him now.

Shaking his head of those thoughts, Hotch watched as Rossi stopped in front of one of Foyet's address and quickly got himself ready. The place was clear. Hotch's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he saw Reid's number flash across the screen. Reid had explained the amount of blood at his scene was enough to kill someone. Hotch and Rossi quickly got back into the car and drove. Everything seemed to fall apart afterwards.

George Foyet was the Reaper. The team connected the dots after Reid said that the Reaper wouldn't kill the only person he had control of. Research showed what Foyet really was, and Derek had yet to call about his status. When the team rushed to his sight, Derek was barely conscious with glass shards in his body from the window he had to have been pushed out of; and his partner was brutally murdered. Hotch felt the guilt trying to rise out of him but held it down as he tried to figure out who Foyet was target next. Again, the dots were connected, and they headed to the house of the writer who was following the Reaper case.

Hotch felt his anger clench as he pointed his gun at the bastard, saying this wasn't going end well. George only gave him a menancing smile as he gave in- a bit too easily for Hotch's liking- and came in.

Back at the hotel, Hotch stepped out of his room and pulled out his phone while ignoring his frayed nerves as he dialed an oh so familiar number.

"Aaron?" a sleepy voice asked. Aaron's frustrated expression was slowly melting away into a smile.

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you that I finished the case. We'll be driving back in the morning."

"That's good," Hinata said. Hotch could see the smile on her face, and felt his heart hammer in his chest, "Are you okay?"

Hotch gripped his phone a bit too hard, "I'll be better when I get home," he admitted.

Something was rustling in the background. Hotch assumed it was the sheets. Her own or his was the question.

"Aaron," Hinata began, "I-I have a surpise for you w-when you get back."

"Oh?" Aaron asked as he felt his breath hitched.

"Hmmm," Hinata hummed, "P-Promise me you'll p-pick me up once y-you get settled tommorow."

The smile tugged at the corners of Hotch's lips, "I will. I love you."

"Love you too," Hinata whispered. Hotch let out a relieved sigh.

Just then Rossi walked up to him, an apologetic look on his face, "Aaron, you really need to see this."

I want to know what's on your minds people.