Chapter Eleven

The next morning, Emily woke to JJ digging through her go bag, clad in jeans and a tank top.

"What's goin' on?" She mumbled sleepily, forcing herself to sit up.

"We forgot to set the alarm." The blonde replied. "And you've been ignoring me for the last twenty minutes."

"Really?" Emily frowned. "I don't even remember you waking me."

"You threw a pillow at me." JJ shrugged, slipping a v-neck t-shirt over her head. "But we gotta be ready in twenty minutes now so you can't ignore me anymore."

"Twenty minutes?" The brunette groaned, tossing back the blankets and climbing out of bed. "How'd last night go? I tried to wait up." She asked as she dug out an outfit similar to her friends'.

"It was fine. He already knew exactly what I was feeling." Grabbing her purple hair brush, JJ continued as she brushed out her still damp hair. "He felt the same way but he's more… he's convinced it's going to last. He's just more optimistic, I guess."

"He knows how he feels about you. He's not going to let you go without a fight, Jay." Emily told her, speaking through the bathroom door. "He's in it for the long haul."

"I know..." JJ trailed off.

Not even twenty minutes later, the two girls were exiting the elevator, giggling hysterically while a confused businessman followed behind them.

"What's so funny?" Derek asked, unconsciously resting a hand on the small of JJ's back.

"That man was doing a horrible job of trying to pick up Em." JJ continued giggling.

"In last nights' clothes nonetheless. He stunk." Emily continued while their three colleagues smiled at the other man's expense.

"Everyone ready?" Hotch asked when he joined the group not even thirty seconds later.

It was just after 10pm when the team finally caught a break. Another child had gone missing but the UnSub, now known as Patrick Harris, had slipped up and was seen by a passerby. Derek was driving one SUV with JJ in the passenger seat and Emily in the back while Hotch, Rossi, and Spencer were heading towards a second possible location.

JJ shuddered as she thought back to their case in Kansas just weeks prior. The weather was almost identical and tornadoes had been predicted for the night.

"So, six children?" Emily double-checked. "Probably hiding them in the basement because of the weather…" She trailed off, clearly just working out the scenario in her mind, not expecting either of her friends to join in.

JJ glanced in Derek's direction, knowing that he was thinking about Kansas, too. Reaching over the center console, she placed a hand on his thigh, causing him to meet her gaze briefly before turning back to the road in front of him. Dropping his right hand, he laid it over hers and squeezed gently, not saying a word; those few seconds of eye contact had expressed exactly what both of them were thinking.

As Derek pulled the SUV to a stop, JJ glanced in the side view mirror to make sure the two local police officers were still behind them. Once she saw the two men exit their vehicles, she knew they were in the right spot.

"Okay, Prentiss, we'll take the Harris, JJ, focus on getting the kids out of there." Derek directed as they approached the house. After receiving two nods of agreement, he easily kicked the door open.

The three of them, followed by the local officers, quickly cleared the first floor of the house before regrouping in front of the basement door. Derek swung the door open slowly and descended down the stairs.

"Patrick Harris! FBI! Show yourself!" He barked out loudly to be heard over the thundering storm outside. "Patrick Harris!"

Once they reached the concrete floor of the basement, they were confronted with exactly what they didn't want. Patrick Harris was using the most recent missing child as a shield while the other five kids were crowded back into a far corner.

"Patrick, let the children go." Derek demanded softly. "You don't want anyone to get hurt."

"No! I'm doing them a favor! Their parents don't deserve them!" The 20-something year old screamed back, tightening his grip on the young girl.

"Patrick, we know what happened to you." Emily told him. "These children don't have parents like yours though. No one is going to hurt them."

"Derek…" JJ whispered, glancing towards the small window in the top right corner of the room. "We need to…"

"I know. I can see it." He mumbled back, referring to the dark funnel-shaped tornado heading towards the house at an increasingly alarming rate. "Patrick, these children have good parents who are worried sick about them. Your father was a bad man. He didn't deserve you. But these children, their parents love them and take good care of them. They won't hurt them."

"Why should I believe you? They're all the same! They'll hurt them eventually! They always do!" He cried back, the gun in his hand trembling.

"No, Patrick, not all parents are bad." JJ decided to take a shot of her own. "I have a three year old, a little boy. I would never hurt him, Patrick. He is my entire world. There are good parents out there."

"No…" Patrick shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "No! You're wrong!" He exclaimed, suddenly aiming the gun at the three FBI agents. "You're wrong!"

"Patrick…" Derek started again, only to be cut off by the sound of a gunshot and JJ's exclamation of his name.