akacinno's A/N: The endo! Hope you enjoy this...: )

dieselwriter's A/N: All done. And it feels like we have only just begun...

Epilogue

It is better to go down in infamy than to never go down at all.
~Jack Bowman

Washington DC Police Department
April 24th

"Paige," Hotch addressed and Paige snapped out of his daze, giving Hotch a bright grin. "How are you?"

"Come on," he said with a dubious expression on his face, "can't knock us down that easily! Although I will say I could've done without the injuries that tagged along."

Paige gestured to Hotch's knee with his injured arm and Hotch returned the good-natured smile before facing the team.

"Ready?" he asked them and Morgan nodded in reply as the rest met his eyes with determination. Hotch turned to Paige. "Are all of your men here?"

"Yep," he said and then backtracked. "Well, most of them. There's a few at Estridge's house, but they have most of the information already. There's also a few still investigating at Lee's house. Who's still over there, Devon?" he asked a man to his left.

"I think it's just Jackson and Nate."

Paige nodded and turned back to the agent. "I can pass on the information to them when they get back. We should begin before they scurry." He turned to the room of men and women and cleared his throat. "Attention!"

The murmurs quieted down immediately. Although Paige was an easy-going guy, Clarke thought it was clear that his team respected him immensely. They all stared at him with unwavering focus and loyalty.

"You all know I'm not usually one for big speeches-" a few of the officers laughed at this comment, which made Paige grin, "-but I know some of you are worried about where I'm coming from and where we go from here, and I owe it to you, so here it is."

Paige took a moment to collect himself, and Clarke already felt inspired by the man and his devoted team that stood spellbound at his every word and gesture.

"I consider Simon Estridge…well, I used to consider him a friend. And I know I'm not the only person in this room who feels that way. For those of you old enough to remember, you know Simon Estridge was an Assistant Chief in our own department and he sacrificed his time, energy, and safety for all of us. And I'm not asking you to forget those memories. That's exactly the way I want you to remember him. That's certainly the way I'll remember him.

"Some of us know about the string of events that led to Simon's breakdown, and for those of you who don't, you'll find out in just a few moments. I hope you'll be able to appreciate the circumstances that led to the Simon Estridge that exists today."

Pursing his lips, Paige swept his eyes over the group, looking defiant.

"Simon has turned into a dangerous man. He is responsible for the deaths of seven people that we know of. It might even be more. He has a strong motivation, a strategical mind, and he knows us. We trained him. He's one of the best.

"This new Simon Estridge is not a man who should warrant your pity or your mercy," Paige continued, a steely note entering his tone. "As far as I'm concerned, the old Simon has passed, and he will always be a friend to me. If you have any doubts about the new Simon and how far gone he is from our old compatriot, know that he made an attempt on my life and took one of our own, one of our youngest and brightest.

"This is going to be a hard one, guys," he concluded on a rather simple note to try to ease the tension in the room, "but I need every single one of you and I need all of your effort in this. If any of you has any concerns you can always come to me. But right now I need you all to listen up and wait until the end for further questions. Understand?"

"Yes, Chief," was the unified response. He nodded at them and turned to Hotchner once again.

"The stage is yours," he told him, stepping back.

"Thank you," Hotch said before taking over the group's attention.

"I cannot pretend to define the relationships Simon Estridge had with each of you and lecture you on how to overcome that barrier on this case," he spoke and the room, if possible, got even quieter. "But I can appreciate the relationships I have with my own colleagues and know that what we are about to convey to you may be hard to hear and remain unbiased towards. All I ask of you now is to listen to the facts."

"Simon Estridge comes from a family of three children," Reid informed, feeling a bit of pressure at having to follow enigmatic speakers like Paige and Hotchner. "It's not unusual he took Carl Faison under his wing so easily; being the oldest of two younger sisters, he assumes responsibility by nature," he glanced over to Clarke and nodded.

She cleared her throat, feeling a similar pressure.

"Five years ago, Chief Paige and Estridge received Metals of Valor for their efforts in a high speed chase. The car they were after ran off the road, and the Chief was able to apprehend the fugitive from the burning car while Estridge saved a hostage. The incident left severe burns on Estridge's hands, making him unable to reliantly fire a weapon and confining him to desk work."

"Three years ago," Rossi continued on, "his mother and one of his sisters were killed in a car accident. A cop named Eddie Summerfield rear-ended them at a red light and plowed them into the middle of the intersection with oncoming traffic." Several of the police officers shook their heads. "Simon did his research after the accident. Eddie was a recovering alcoholic. Although Eddie wasn't drunk the night of the accident, Simon most likely saw him as tainted, a corrupt authority figure."

"A few months after his mother and sister died, Simon's youngest sister called him, claiming she had been raped," Morgan explained with his hands in his back pockets. This didn't seem like news to most of the crowd, but they still looked upset by the information. "She filed charges against her attacker, a pilot in the Air Force, but without witnesses or solid evidence the case was dropped.

"I'm sure you all remember the aftermath, when Simon was Honorably Discharged after his mental breakdown. The rape of his sister was the last injustice he stood for and he snapped."

"It wasn't long after his discharge that Carl Faison sought out Estridge," Hotch said and all attention shifted to him. "Estridge welcomed him with open arms, and his natural ability to lead and nurture combined with his new motive to avenge his mother and sisters made Estridge an effective teacher in long distance serial killing. Faison, who was Dishonorably Discharged from his SWAT division after shooting a civilian and was a predisposed serial killer, made a perfect student."

"After Faison died, Estridge had to find a new protégé," Reid stepped in again. "Now if there's something you need to know about Simon, it's this: although he killed people, he never saw himself as dirty. He believes that he has to kill, that it is a justice that his mother and sisters never received, and he would never do it in a way that seemed dishonorable. No slitting throats or stabbing people, because those methods are personal and painful. He has his underlings shoot from long distance because it gets the job done quickly and physically separates them from the deed. He takes their credentials as a reminder of the good he believes he is doing."

"Simon does not have remorse for the things he's done," Hotch said in a low voice. "He doesn't think what he's doing, the people he's killing, is wrong. And he will not stop. He will lie low for now, but we will hear of him again and we will catch him."

The room was silent for a while as the information sunk in.

"Thank you," Paige came forward to speak to the crowd once again, "for your attention and your help. And for you," Paige turned to Hotch, extending his hand. "We appreciate everything you've done for us, Aaron. We all do."

There was a hushed mumble in the room as the men and women murmured their thanks. Hotch shook Paige's hand.

"We'll be back," he said before Paige dismissed his team. As the room regained a hustle and bustle cacophony, Hotch addressed his team.

"You have five minutes," he said, picking up his bag and wincing at the pain in his bruised knee. "Gather your things and meet in the parking lot."

They all nodded and as they collected their bags and documents, Paige noticed the unhappy expression on Clarke's face.

"What's the matter, sunshine?" he asked casually, gingerly fingering his injured shoulder. "Keep wrinkling your forehead like that and you'll ruin that pretty little face of yours."

Clarke gave him a brief smile before the frown settled back into her features.

"I know there's not much more we can do here," she said as the rest of the team filtered out of the room, "but I can't shake the feeling that we're sort of…giving up."

Morgan overheard her comment and glanced over his shoulder. Clarke caught his gaze, half expecting a glare to be aimed her way, but instead he gave her an almost sad expression. In a way, he looked almost apologetic.

Clarke blinked and Morgan turned around again, exiting the building.

"You've done all you can do," Paige said, pulling Clarke away from the silent interchange, "and we're very thankful for that. All we could do is let everyone know the facts and hope that the day where we can put him behind bars will arise before he hurts any more people."

Clarke thought about his words and then smiled at him.

"I know you're right," she said and he beamed at her. "It doesn't make walking away any easier, though."

He gave a heavy sigh and placed his good arm around her shoulder.

"It never is," he said and gave her a sad smile as the exited the building, back into the heat.

There was a cell phone ringing throughout the motel room. At the second chime, the last name, Steele, appeared on the screen. A heavily scarred hand reached over and clumsily picked it up off the desk. It rang two more times in his hand before the decision was made and the owner answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Simon, what's going on?"

The scarred hand reached for the gun sitting on his bed.

"Nathan? What are you up to?"

"Just finished up searching a suspect's house on this LDSK case and now I'm heading back to the station," he laughed. "They had me and Jackson digging through every trashcan in the dump."

The man kept his finger off the trigger, eyes glued to the door of the motel room.

"Sounds like good investigative work there, officer."

There was a pause in the conversation.

"Hey, Simon…if there's anything I can do for you…I know Carl's death hasn't been easy for you."

"Of course not…he was like a son to me…but I'll be fine, Nate. You're doing enough as it is. When I talk to you, you make me feel like I'm still there working at the station. I love hearing about how everyone's doing. Makes me think of the good old days…"

He paused.

"How are things going at the station?"

"Oh, pretty good. Jackson thinks we'll have this case wrapped up this week. I disagree. Just because we've got the hired hand doesn't mean we're anywhere close to the man behind the curtain, right?"

"Right," he responded, placing the weapon back on the bed and going for the cigarettes in his pocket instead. "Well, assuming Jackson's right, any plans for the weekend?"

"Ha, well, there was a flyer going around for a seminar Friday night. There's a guy coming who used to be hooked on Dilaudid. I dunno, I guess I thought it'd be interesting."

Dirty.

There was another pause as the man felt the new information surging through his mind.

Stay calm. Don't get too excited.

"Clean Cops, huh?"

"Yeah. The guy's from the BAU. FBI, can you believe it?"

With his heart hammering in his chest, he dropped the pack of cigarettes next to his gun and almost squeaked out the next question.

"Do you remember his name?"

"Yeah, I think I have the flyer, hold on."

The seconds ticked by slowly and his heart continued to thunder with anticipation.

"You find it?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"Yeah, I found it," Nate replied and the man heard the sound of paper rustling. "Here it is. His name is Spencer Reid."

akacinno's A/N: Squeeee! : ) Hope you enjoyed it, folks! Leave a review if you liked it- we appreciate the feedback we receive. Thanks!

dieselwriter's A/N: Oh, it feels like it's only just begun because it has only just begun. Bwuahahahaha! No fears; a sequel is in the works! Thanks for sticking it out until the end with us; my sister and I enjoy working with each other on something we both enjoy so much and we just hope you had as much fun reading it as we did writing it!