"I want this kept an inside investigation." Hotch ordered behind closed blinds.

Reid, who still had a butterfly bandage above his eye, nodded. "I think we should completely close it. Not just the part about JJ."

Rossi agreed. "If I'm right and this is Bateman, we could force him to accelerate by applying pressure. We need to keep our profile under wraps."

Hotch looked in at the team from the precinct window, glad that he had sent both women home. On the table was a note found taped to JJ's phone. "Next comes the brunette."

It was strange to have a day off with nothing to do, but for once, Emily wasn't complaining. In her bed was Jennifer Jareau, her girlfriend. And while they were both fairly banged up and sore, they found that each other's company was the best medicine.

"Are you hungry?" Emily asked, changing her bandage in the bathroom.

JJ called out from bed, "Chinese?"

"You're going to have sweet and sour sauce flowing through your veins one of these days." The brunette chortled. "Your usual?"

"Please!"

Emily rolled her eyes and returned her focus to the bandage, struggling to reattach the tape with one hand.

Noticing her girlfriend's battle, JJ forced herself out of bed to come to Emily's aid. "Need help?" She asked, wrapping her arms around the brunette's waist. Her reflection startled JJ, the purple bruises prominent against her ivory colored skin; she knew they were there, but it still shocked her to see them.

"Please." Emily nodded, avoiding eye contact. She was supposed to be the one caring for JJ, not the other way around.

JJ smiled sheepishly and collected the tape from the counter. With a few snips of the scissors, she placed it perfectly around Emily's healing shoulder. "There. Now come back to bed. I need my pillow."

Emily brightened and did as she was told, snatching her phone off the dresser before climbing under the blankets with the blonde. Quickly, she spat off their order and thanked whoever had answered.

JJ had already fallen back asleep, her arm draped protectively- and securely- across Emily, making her smile. If we could only stay like this forever, Prentiss thought.

Morgan ducked his head into Hotch's makeshift office. "Results are in from the prints found at the crime scene."

"Which scene?"

"Both, actually. From the tape on JJ's phone and from the ones scattered throughout the O'Connell's house."

Before Hotch could ask if there was a match, Rossi appeared. "And you'll never guess who didn't show up for work today?"

Morgan bit his lip. "I'm going to guess Bateman, considering he has to know he's busted."

"Good job, both of you. I think it's time we go pay Officer Bateman a visit."

Rossi followed behind him as he glided out the door. "Only if my handcuffs get to do the talking." He mumbled.

"Jennifer, wake up." Emily shook the blonde awake, running her fingers through her hair. "Wake up, baby. Come on, snap out of it."

JJ had woken Emily from their nap during a nightmare; she was thrashing about, screaming for help. Slowly, at the feel of Emily's embrace, JJ opened her eyes and quieted.

Emily held her close, whispering in her ear. "You're okay now, Jen. I won't let anyone hurt you."

After a few moments, when JJ had collected herself, she breathed, "It was that cop, Em. I remember now."

Emily's entire body tensed, furious that she wasn't in Texas where she could take a bullet to Bateman's head. She suppresses her anger, though, knowing that JJ needed her more for support than vengeance. "They'll get him, JJ. I promise."

The brunette repositioned herself in bed so that she could reach her phone, keeping its glaring screen from JJ's eyes. She sent a text to Hotch and forwarded it to the team. Bateman. JJ remembered. Get him for me.

Garcia had never been so pissed. "What do you mean it was that cop? The unsub is a cop? One of us?" She bellowed, the walls surrounding them shaking.

Morgan put a finger to his lips. "Baby girl, you have to quiet down. We don't know if he's working with anyone yet. "

"Derek, do you remember how I said I didn't believe in guns?" Garcia asked, fuming. "Get me one. Right now. I want to see the look on his stupid face when I say 'say hello to my little friend!"

"FBI, come out with your hands up!"

Nothing moved.

Hotch thundered again over a megaphone, "Officer Julius Bateman, come out with your hands up or we will enter the premises."

Still, nothing. Hotch nodded, motioning for Morgan and Rossi to storm the door, guns drawn. Reid was standing behind the vehicle, watching the scene unfold with surveillance from a neighboring house.

Morgan twisted the know, surprised to find it unlocked. He threw back the door, pointing for Rossi to take the left. Hotch followed behind them. Bateman stood dead center in the kitchen with a knife to his neck.

"Put it down, Bateman." Morgan ordered, waving his gun in the air to show that he was holstering it. "There isn't any need for that."

"Do you know what they do to cops In prison?" He sneered. "I can't do that- I can't go there."

Rossi came from behind, his gun still aimed at the unsub's head. "We can talk about isolation, Bateman. There are options."

"Yeah right, not for someone like me."

Before Bateman could slice his throat, Rossi fired. The shot struck the officers wrist, making the knife fling to the floor.

Quickly, Morgan swept in and began reading his rights. As he lifted Bateman to his feet, Morgan shoved him. "That's for JJ. Get him out of here." He told another officer.

Rossi clapped Hotch on the back. "Time to go home."