Thank you to those who have been reviewing! Reviews have dropped considerably since the story started, and I know a lot of that is because of the gaps between updates. That's unlikely to happen now, as the end of this story is not that far away - probably three weeks at a guess, and I am considering a mini case fic, just involving Hotch and Prentiss – you'll see where that fits in when you read this chapter. It would be nice though to get the reviews up to where they were, as it is disheartening when they drop off. Which brings me to say a MASSIVE thank you to those people who have reviewed every chapter, not only of this but of my other Criminal Minds fics as well, and to those who reviewed How Far Away the Stars – the extra bit will be with you tomorrow. If you a regular reviewer and I haven't sent you the extra HP bit, please let me know in a PM.

This should be updated on Tuesday, as should Maybe Tomorrow.

It's not been beta'd, so please excuse the typos.

Enjoy – and please review. It does mean a lot to get feedback.

Where the Blue of the Night

" A man should look for what is, and not for what he thinks should be."

- Albert Einstein

Chapter Thirty Four

November 9th

Time trickles away like the last drops of water from a bottle on a hot day. But this was no hot day, and time was certainly not passing slowly.

He'd left his car a mile away, running through the park and looking like an ordinary jogger. He'd realised a long time ago that people tended to ignore joggers; they blended into the scenery, faceless, nameless. No one would ever think that they would commit a crime, they were too intent on getting fitter, toning up.

Martha Moore's picture was in the newspapers now. The police, and the FBI he supposed, wanted people to be on the lookout for her, noting where she was going, what she was doing, if she had altered her appearance at all. He knew she hadn't; he'd seen her last night, with the boy when he'd been looking for place to go when he needed to be out of sight for some length of time. He knew in which vicinity she was travelling in, but not quite where.

As soon as he had found the boy he would be able to collect his JJ. She would fly to him like he was honey, desperate to discover the child. He would be a hero, and he would have his prize.

But first, he had to find the boy. He had time, he had all the time it needed.

Emily bit the inside of her mouth and muffled a moan as Hotch pulled up outside Mulberry Police Department. He turned to her automatically, looking at her with concern.

"You okay?" he said. There was no hint of a grudge in his tone, and the warmth that he had been so good at producing inside her returned.

She nodded. "Just bit the inside of my mouth. Think I've got a bit of an ulcer," she said, not letting any of the frustration she felt with him seep into her voice. They'd been quite for much of the journey, only conversing about the tactics they were going to take in the field, keeping the topic solely about work. It was half way to being awkward, but something stopped it from fully getting there and she suspected it was because they only half meant to be cool with each other.

Emily didn't hold grudges; she wasn't built that way, and neither was Hotch. But she couldn't yet bring herself to tell him that she forgave him. She wanted him to suffer a little too, like she had, for this was real life and not some fairy tale where they would live happily ever after.

They were active agents, and there would be times when one of them got hurt. He had to know that he couldn't simply walk away because he couldn't deal with the fact that he hadn't protected her. That was just a fact of their lives; they would get hurt.

"It's because you're run down," he said. "This case – Utah, South Dakota, before that even – we haven't stopped for weeks and we're all too tired. As soon as we can leave the safe house we're all on leave for three weeks. Strauss confirmed it when I spoke with her last night."

Emily nodded, suddenly feeling as if she wanted to burst into tears. It was exhaustion; physical and mental exhaustion. She coped with most things well enough; as an ambassadors' daughter she'd had to, but Sophie's disappearance was the thing that could finish her off.

She'd needed Hotch last night, more than she'd ever thought she'd need anyone. She'd needed someone to lie next to her, to lie to her, tell her that everything was going to be alright because they would have found Sophie by the morning, and for some small amount of time she could have taken some comfort. But instead she'd been alone, and at in the darkest hours that come just before dawn, she'd realised just how dependant she'd become upon him in such a short space of time.

It should have been enough to scare her, but the only terrifying thing now was the thought of these three weeks without him being there.

"That's good," she said, holding herself together. "What about Morgan?"

"Reid's worked something on Strauss. He's requested that any inquiry be dropped, and he's managed it. I have no idea how, but Morgan's off the hook officially," Hotch said. The car was in park, but he had made no attempt to get out yet.

"Hotch," she said, needing this battle to be over. "I can't deal with everything that's going on right now, including this fight. It needs to give."

He nodded, looking at her, his hands tight on the steering wheel. "Shall we put the other night behind us for now, and talk about when we have those three weeks?"

Her heart lightened instantly, and she nodded. "Don't think you're off the hook," she said. "I mean it."

He grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "We need to go in. We're late already."

Emily nodded, getting out of the car, feeling as if the ache inside her had dulled a little.

It was the boredom that was the worst thing. Sophie had had enough of the four walls that had enclosed her for what felt like forever. She was pretty certain that nothing was going to happen to her, not at his hands anyway as he would have done it by now.

There wasn't much food left, and she didn't know if he intended to replenish her cupboards anytime soon, so she'd tried to spin out what she had. This meant she couldn't even comfort eat like she had done a little at first, meaning there was pretty much nothing at all to do right now.

Sophie stood up and stretched, looking about the room which she was pretty sure she now knew like the back of her hand. The bookcases, the drawers and cupboards, the shelves... all of it was too familiar. She stretched her leg and kicked the sofa she had been sleeping on, preferring it to the bed which was a little lumpy. Her big toe met something hard and she bent down, lifting the material that covered the sofa and found two drawers.

Her heart began to pound. Okay, she had no idea what was in them, but it was something to alleviate the boredom. She pulled open the one closest and found photographs; photographs of people she recognised, one person in particular. JJ; Agent Jareau. She'd already figured that he was fixated by her, but not quite this much. They went back years.

Sophie began to look through them all, piling them neatly. When they found her, these would be evidence, and a means to study him. Some of the photos had been defaced, especially pictures of JJ's boyfriend or fiancé or whatever – he'd been scribbled out completely. Some words had been written next to the other BAU members. He'd called Garcia an imposter; Morgan a traitor and Emily a bitch several times.

Sophie pulled out the other drawer, and felt a more intense rush of blood to the head when she saw what was in there. Print outs, some old, and handwritten notes, all on bomb making.

And there, in the corner of the drawer, was a device that ceased any sort of boredom. A small red light flickered a warning while she looked at it open mouthed, changing her mind to back away when she saw the handwritten number 5 on a sticky label next to it.

There were four more.

But where, and what could she do about it?

The small room was packed. Mulberry PD was the centre point of four small areas that were all policed by different departments. It also had the biggest bullpen, and was the logical choice in which to get as many officers as possible to brief them on Martha Moore.

Hotch felt his usual calmness return as they walked into the packed room, heading to the front where Detective Gruber was, the man who had been told to coordinate the search. He longed for five more minutes alone with Emily, but that wasn't going to happen for a good few hours, and the anticipation of that wait hung heavy on his shoulders.

"Agent Hotchner," Gruber said, offering his hand. "We've spoken several times. I appreciate you coming as I believe there are some difficulties at the moment."

Hotch nodded. "I'm sorry you can't have specific details. This is Agent Emily Prentiss. We'd like to get started as soon as possible and then your officers can resume their search."

Gruber nodded. "The floor's yours. I'll get their attention."

His bellow was enough to stop a parade, and Hotch cast Emily a quick look while the attention was off then. She still looked pale, although her expression was a little softer now. "You start," he said quietly.

"Sure," she said. The room fell silent, eyes flitting between himself and Emily. Sometimes, officers expected a profile to give a miraculous result, and then they were disappointed. A profile could guide them in the right direction, show them under which stones to look, and then could assist in closing a case neatly, but it still came down to good detective skills, hard work and intelligence. "Martha Moore is suspected of the abduction and murder of three other children around the same age as Alfie Fletcher. She is unable to have children herself due to an incident in her past and has a mission to find a child she perceives as needing her as a mother. Martha seeks children whose parents she thinks are unfit because of their lifestyles and targets them with letters and stalking over a period of months before abducting the child.

"She is not concerned with gender, and as far as we are aware, she keeps the children alive up until a certain point. We suspect that she delves into a delusional state where she believes that the child is tainted by the parents, becoming ill because of bad genes rather than the fact she isn't looking after them. Alfie is being kept somewhere unfitting for a child, and is possibly being drugged or bound in order to stop him drawing attention."

Hotch stood forward. "You are looking for an unusual place, not somewhere you would keep a child for any length of time. It is somewhere Martha will be familiar with although it won't be somewhere obvious. We are circulating a list of places that she had connections with, or where her husband has connections, but this list is by no means comprehensive. Speak with people she knows, find out where she goes on a day to day basis. It is almost impossible that she has taken Alfie out of the area, and it is unlikely she will do as she is only comfortable in the things that she finds familiar."

He moved slightly to the side so Emily could finish speaking. "Martha is aware that she is being looked for. It is unknown whether she has found out that we have discovered the body of Officer Bergamon, although it would not bother her if she knows we have. She considers the police to be beneath her, and her exploits to be justified. She will have no guilt for what she has done, and she will feel no remorse. When you find her, she will not hesitate to harm you as she feels that she is completely in the right.

"There is also nothing to say Martha will not leave Alfie if there is another mission for her to pursue. At the moment, she has no grasp on reality and will not consider leaving him without food and water an issue. If she thinks she has been 'wronged' in some way, she will attempt to take revenge. Her mental state is highly unhinged and she will not see the consequences of any of her actions."

Hotch finished with some basic details, explaining the finer points and giving a few more tips on where to look. They left as soon as the discussion began, Gruber's voice booming over the officers' for quiet while their detail was given. They were heading to two other buildings that Martha Moore had connections with, following Gruber and one of his officers. They had been a late night discovery of Kevin's; an old, disused church hall where Martha used to help run a Sunday school, and a scout hut where John Moore helped with some of the activities. They didn't believe that Martha was hiding Alfie in either of these now, but that they might have been used at some point during his time held captive.

Hotch asked Emily to drive, his cell phone feeling uncomfortably hot in his pocket. Boyd had still not turned up, even after countless messages had been left by Llewellyn and himself. He'd gone off the grid to the extent that Llewellyn was talking about having an APB go out on his car.

During the profile he'd felt his phone vibrate, but he hadn't answered it, knowing that his part would be over soon, and he'd be able to call almost straight back.

He'd been surprised when he'd seen who the call was from, then less so when there was no immediate answer. Something was amiss, and Hotch had a feeling that whatever was bad before, was just about to get worse on many levels.

If only he knew.