20 August 2013.

50 hours remain.

"Talk to me, babygirl." Morgan pressed the speaker on the landline in the centre of the table, settling down into his seat between Reid and Rossi.

"Okay so I ran all of the security footage from inside and outside the hotel. Emily returned to her room at 8:57pm, but, get this. There's nothing. No movement in or out of the hotel room. No Emily on any of the other footage. There are no gaps in the footage, nothing was erased, it's like she just... poof!" Garcia, voice panicky, could be heard typing as she rambled off her findings.

"And there's no sight of her on outdoor cameras?" Hotch rubbed his forehead in exhaustion, lack of sleep clear on his face.

"Nada, nothing!" Panic evident in her voice, Garcia's fingers continued their methodic tapping in the background. Everyone was silent, anxious glances being passed between them.

"Wait, Garcia, could you look at surveillance of cars parked in the lot? How many cars left the hotel lot between 9 and 11?" Reid bolted up from his seat, reaching for a dry erase marker JJ was fidgeting with.

"Ummm... seven. Footage shows four different families leaving the hotel in vehicles, two solo men, and one woman. Placement of the cameras doesn't show any of their faces. License plate photos are on their way as we speak!"

"Alright, Reid and Rossi, head to the hotel and re-search Emily's room. Try to figure out a way he could have gotten her out of the hotel. JJ and Morgan, I want every inch of that hotel searched, top to bottom. They could be hiding out there. Garcia, I need you to pull the names of all hotel employees, run them against the other victims. Check whose work schedule rules them out as a potential Unsub based on the times of prior victims." Hotch nodded at his team's anxious faces, trying to provide some level of assurance.

Emily awoke to the sound of the metal door opening, barely able to lift her head. Her body ached, bruises and bite marks covering her body. Dried blood crusted over abdomen and her shoulders ached from the weight of her own body. The rope around her wrists bit harshly into her already bruised flesh, but she couldn't muster the strength to move.

"Morning, doll." the unsub's now familiar-drawl made her skin crawl.

She mumbled in response, unable to speak around the cloth in her mouth. He busied himself at the table by the door and she couldn't bring herself to watch. She felt herself drift in and out of consciousness, brought back to her senses by the cloth being roughly ripped from her mouth.

"What more could you want from me?" she coughed out, weakly trying to look the man in the eyes. Anger flashed across the man's face and she cried out as she felt cold steel plunge into her thigh, just below her hip bone.

"Shut up, bitch. I thought ya'd learned some respect! And here I's gonna take ya down." he pursed his lips in disappointment, watching blood pour down the pale agent's thigh, "guess not."

She whimpered as tears slid town her face, now too tired to hold them back:

"I-I'm sorry. You're right." as tired as she was, bits of the profile filtered into her head, Reid's voice discussing his narcissism, "I'm not going to fight you. I promise."

Her sudden change of heart surprised him, causing a brief pause:

"Hm. Be back." He mumbled, retreating from the room. A heavy sigh of relief moved through her body.

Hotch stood over a copy of the hotel's blueprints, marking off already-searched areas.

Boiler room. Sub-basement. Rooms 101-934. 4 public bathrooms. Kitchen area.

Garcia's search had turned up a list of too many names and he had yet to hear back from Reid or Rossi. He knew he was missing something, but couldn't identify what. Whatever it was, her life was counting on his figuring it out. Glimpses of her voice floated through his head, flashes of her smile. No one deserved this, but especially not Emily.

He remembered the way she smiled at him the day he convinced her to rejoin the BAU. The way she'd hugged him after Hayley's death. Her smile over the top of her beer when she'd specifically invited him to join them all for drinks after particularly difficult cases. The blueprints in front of him faded into the background and his last memory of her filled his mind.

Her hand on his shoulder had made him jump.

"Relax. I brought coffee." She leaned over his shoulder to place the steaming mug beside the casefile that laid open on his desk. Her hair brushed against his ear and the smell of her shampoo flooded his nose.

"Thanks." he muttered, stiffening slightly in his seat.

"Is this our new case?" Perching on the edge of his desk, she held her hand out for the file.

"No, no. Just a consult for a sheriff in Minnesota. He thinks it's serial, but I just don't see it." Regardless of its irrelevancy, he held the paperwork up for her.

"Hm." she bit at her nail absentmindedly as she flipped through the file, pausing to re-read certain sections he'd already highlighted.

"Do you think I'm wrong?" he shifted slightly, his elbow resting against her knee and watching as she intently focused on the gruesome details before her.

"Not necessarily. There's not much connecting the murders, other than a similar dump site. But it's not even the same site, just the same neighborhood. The victims seem completely different. It looks like just a series of unrelated murders." she brushed her bangs off to the side of her forehead and closed the file, resting it back in front of him. With a soft smile, she rose from his desk and retreated back to the bullpen, squeezing his shoulder softly before she left.

Author's Note: Please drop me a review to let me know your thoughts and how you think things should proceed!