Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Penelope’s voice was soft, almost maternal, as she pulled up in front of the house. Lena nodded, forcing a smile, but it didn’t take a profiler to see how shaken she was. 

“I’m okay,” she lied, “Just tired.”

Penelope leaned over, giving her a one-armed hug across the console. “You were incredible today. Morgan was bragging about you. He was all like ‘Reid better watch his back, because we might have a new prodigy.’”

Lena rolled her eyes and gave a more genuine smile. “He was joking. All I did was pass out flyers and…”

Find a body—the body of a woman who was my age. 

“I’m serious,” Penelope said. You did a lot of good this summer. Go inside, see your family, and get some sleep. You can call or text me if you need to talk.”

Penelope gave a wink, but didn’t push further. 

Lena stepped into the warm night air, her go bag slung over one shoulder and her suitcase rolling behind her. Penelope’s car remained, ensuring she got inside. Lena stood in front of her door, dreading the fact that her parents were going to ask for details about her internship, and knowing that the one thing on her mind would be the body of the woman she had found less than twelve hours ago. 

Her mind went back to the body. The way Morgan’s hand rested protectively on her back as he steered her away. Her conversation with Gideon on the jet still echoed in her head. Well, if you could call it a conversation. Lena spent the whole time avoiding eye contact because she feared that if she spoke, she would break down in tears, and the last thing Lena wanted was to break down at the end of her internship. 

“You won’t forget this,” Gideon had said, “But you’ll find a way to deal with it.”

Lena reached for the cross pendant around her neck, the gift her father had given her before she left for her internship. It also doubled as an early birthday gift, as she turned twenty in the middle of the summer. 

Finally, she turned the key in the lock, letting it open with a creak. The air smelled sweet. Her parents probably planned a belated birthday celebration for when she got home. 

“Hey,” she said, “I’m home. Sorry, I’m late. The team got a case right before I was supposed to leave. I tried to call, but no one answered.”

Just like now. Lena dropped her bags by the door. 

“Mom? Dad?”

The kitchen light was on, but the rest of the house was dark. Maybe they had tried to stay up for her and given up. She saw the cake first, thinking it strange that it would be uncovered. It was chocolate, and purple lettering read 'Welcome Home + Happy Birthday. ' 

But that wasn’t what Lena noticed. Two chairs were pulled up to the table, and in them were their parents, heads slumped forward, throat slit from ear to ear. 

In that moment, Lena forgot everything she had learned over the summer. She fell to her knees and let out a guttural scream. 

Eight weeks earlier. 

“Oh, you’re crying, what’s wrong?”

Lena blinked as she stepped into Garcia’s office, trying to force her tears down. Penelope Garcia swiveled around in her chair and opened her drawer. 

“Chocolate or Twizzlers?” she offered, offering up one of each.

Lena tried to laugh. “I’m fine, thank you, though.” 

Garcia tilted her head. “Okay, I know you’re new here, but you are in an office full of profilers, so if you plan on lying, you’ll have to get better at it.”

“I just came from Agent Hotchner’s office,” Lena muttered, “He ripped my research summary to shreds.”

Penelope gasped. “Oh, honey, welcome to BAU. Hotch is hard on everyone.”

“He said my hypothesis was unfocused and my argument lacked cohesion.”

“And let me guess, when he was flipping through it, he used the word ‘interesting’ in a voice that made you feel like you had committed a federal crime?”

Lena cracked a genuine smile. “That’s exactly what he did.” 

“Then congratulations,” Penelope said, “Aaron Hotchner likes you. He wouldn’t take the time to correct you if he didn't. Come in, sit. You’re in the land of colors and happiness now.”

Lena sat beside Penelope, watching as the horrific images filled the screens. 

____________________________________________________________

Penelope hadn’t even started her car when she heard the scream inside the house. Without thinking, she bolted from her car. 

“Lena!”

The door was unlocked. Penelope found Lena on her knees, curled in on herself, fingers curled in her hair, trembling and gasping for breath. Penelope approached slowly, as one would a wounded animal. 

“Lena,” she said quietly, “What-”

Then she followed Lena’s gaze, and her eyes landed on the blood. Penelope’s hand flew to her mouth. She was speechless for a moment, and tears filled her eyes. She dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around Lena’s shoulders, pulling her close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Lena sobbed into her chest, and Penelope knew they needed someone here who could be objective. She called the one person she knew would still be at the office. 

“Hotch, it’s Garcia,” she said, “I was dropping off Lena, and… you need to get down here. It’s bad.”

Hotch didn’t hesitate. “I’m coming.”

When the call ended, Lena’s body had gone limp. Her sobs were quieter. Her fingers were still tangled in Penelope’s sweater. 

“We can’t stay here,” Penelope murmured, brushing Lena’s hair back from her face, “Come on, sweetheart, let's get some air, okay?”

Lena didn’t answer. Her eyes were wide, and she was staring at the bodies. Penelope helped Lena to her feet. She was dead weight at first, but they made it to the porch step by step, where Penelope guided her to sit on one of the chairs.  Lena’s hands shook violently. Penelope sat beside her, but didn’t speak. 

Maybe five minutes passed when a black SUV pulled up, and Aaron Hotchner was out with Derek Morgan behind him. Aaron took one look at Lena with gentle eyes. He stepped forward and crouched beside her. 

“Lena, I’m here. Are you alright?”

Morgan stepped into the house, gun drawn. 

Penelope wiped her eyes. “She found her parents. It was…it was bad.”

Hotch tried to look Lena in the eye, but she wouldn’t meet her gaze. 

“Can you think of anyone who would be?”

“No,” Lena said, “I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt my parents.”

“This wasn’t random,” Derek said as he exited the house. “Hotch, that cake was made today. Whoever did this staged it so Lena would find them.”

Hotch looked down at Lena and then at Garcia. 

“Penelope, take her to the SUV. Keep her warm.”

Garcia nodded, placing a hand on Lena’s shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Lena stood silently, barely hearing what had been said. All she felt was Penelope’s hand guiding her to the SUV. Lena slipped into the SUV without a word. Penelope had to buckle her seatbelt. Garcia shut the door before turning to Hotch. Her own eyes were wet with tears. 

“She was alone when she found them. I don’t know how she will process all of this.”

“She will,” Hotch said. He returned to the house as Morgan stepped back onto the porch. 

“It’s clean, Hotch,” he said, “There’s no sign of forced entry. No signs of struggle. No signs of a break-in. Whoever did this either knew them or had a key.”

“And look at how it was set up,” Morgan said, “our unsub displayed his victims. This was meant to hurt Lena just as much as it was meant to kill them.” 

Hotch didn’t answer at first, “I’m going to take Lena somewhere safe. Garcia, call Reid. I want him to look into her assignments during the internship, find any assignments she may have worked on for her college classes, and let’s see why she was targeted. You look into her parents.”

Garcia opened the passenger’s side door to see that Lena hadn’t moved. 

“Lena,” she said, “Hotch says he’s going to take you somewhere safe.”

Lena blinked slowly. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be.”

Lena finally turned toward Garcia. “Thank you for being here.” 

Garcia reached up and brushed a lock of hair behind Lena’s ear. 

“Sweetheart, I’m here if you need to talk.”

She stepped back, closing the door. Hotch slipped behind the wheel, giving her a moment to breathe before he turned on the engine. Lena stared straight ahead. 

“I didn’t even think to go upstairs, “she said, “I walked in, I saw them and then…I didn’t even check if someone was still in the house. I didn’t even think like I was trained.”

Hotch didn’t look away from the road. “You thought like a daughter. There is no training in the world that prepares you to find your parents like that.”

Lena swallowed a lump in her throat. The car was silent. 

“I’m supposed to take you to a safehouse, but I’m taking you to the BAU. It’s secure, and you have people you know there.”

Lena nodded. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be,” Hotch answered. 

It was well after midnight when they arrived at the BAU. 

“You don’t have to talk to anyone yet. There’s a couch in my office if you need to sleep.”

He led her to his office and turned on a small lamp. There was a blanket draped over the back and a small bottle of water on the table.

Hotch crouched in front of her. 

“I’m not going to sugarcoat this,” he said, “this won’t be easy. Tomorrow you will have to answer a lot of questions, but for now, you can rest. We won’t bother you unless it’s necessary.”

He rose to his feet, closing the office door behind him, and Lena was grateful for the privacy.

____________________________________

Hotch stepped out of his office and found his team at the round table. “Nobody is to bother her until morning. That’s an order. We are going to find who did this.”

Gideon’s voice was low. He stood, turned away from the group, looking out the window. “Okay. What do we know about our unsub?”

“We know there was no forced entry,” Morgan said, “and judging by the state of the bodies, and the cake on the counter, they were probably killed early in the evening, so that suggests that they knew their killer.”

Emily nodded. “And the cake? The way they were seated? If I’m Mrs.Carter, and my husband’s throat is slashed in front of me, I’m screaming and getting away.”

“And if I’m Mr.Carter,” Morgan said, “and my wife is attacked, I’m fighting off the guy, but we didn’t find defensive wounds on either of the victims. Maybe we’re dealing with two unsubs.”

“Whoever did this most likely knew Lena,” Gideon said, “They know her well enough to know when she’s coming home from her internship and to be updated if there’s going to be a delay.”

Hotch nodded. “Someone wanted to hurt her,” he said, “but not kill her.”

“Reid,” Hotch said, “Focus on her academic work. Look for anyone whom she may have criticized, outperformed, or angered. Morgan, Prentiss, Gideo, and I will go back to the house. Morgan and Prentiss, talk to the neighbors, see if they heard or saw anything. Gideon, I want you to take a look at the crime scene. Garcia, dig into their personal lives. Look for anyone who would have had access to their home. JJ, when she wakes up, I want you to talk to her.”

Hotch’s gaze drifted to his office. Lena was curled up under the blanket he had left for her. He couldn’t tell if she was asleep. He rubbed a hand over his face. 

“Poor kid,” Morgan muttered. 

“She’s strong,” Gideon said, “She’ll pull through.”

They took one last look at the office, and the four of them got on the elevator, prepared to find the man who hurt her.

Chapter Text

Lena didn’t sleep. She lay on the couch in Hotch’s office, arms wrapped around herself, blanket draped over her. She cried until she had no more tears left, and then she was left with the memory of blood, cake, and her screams.

Three bodies in less than twenty-four hours. 

A soft knock came. 

“Lena? It’s JJ.”

She didn’t answer, but the door creaked open, and JJ came in with a bottle of water and a mug of tea. She didn’t try to make small talk. Lena appreciated that. She set both beverages on Hotch’s desk and sat in the chair across from his desk. 

“We don’t have to talk now,” she said, “but if you want to, I’m here.”

Lena sat up. “We can talk now.”

She reached for the tea. 

“You know, one of the things we look for when working a case like this is victimology.” JJ started, “So I’m going to start by asking you about your parents.”

Lena took a sip of the tea. It was chamomile with milk and a hint of honey. She knew Garcia had made it. 

“My dad’s name was Robert,” she said, “he was the pastor of our local church. He was terrified when I got accepted to the FBI internship.”

JJ nodded. “And your mom?”

“Her name was Dana. She was an elementary school counselor. She always came home with little cards and thank-you notes. She kept everyone in a shoebox under her bed.”

“Can you think of anyone in their lives they had a conflict? Even something that seemed small at the time?”

Lena shook her head. “They were well-liked. My dad always gave people second chances. I always thought he was kind of a pushover with everyone except me.”

JJ tilted her head. “Second chances in what way?”

Lena shrugged. “He hired people with problems. Addicts, criminals, and people who cheated on their spouses. He always said it wasn’t his job to judge. Just to help out where he could.”

“Did any of these people make you uncomfortable?”

Lena hesitated. 

“There was one man. I only met him once. It was the summer after I graduated. I was meeting my dad at the church so we could go get lunch together, and there was a man outside smoking a cigarette. I had to walk past him to get inside the church, and I felt him looking at me. My dad said he had just gotten out of prison and needed a job. He only worked at the church for about six months, but I always checked for his car in the parking lot before I stopped to see my dad. I always thought I was being dramatic, so I never said anything.”

“Do you remember his name?”

“No,” Lena said quietly, “But my dad kept records of all his employees in his office. Past and present in case they ever came back.”

JJ nodded. “That’s helpful, Lena. Did they seem worried about anything recently?”

“Me,” she said, “They were worried sick when I traveled for that case. Can’t say I blamed them. I wasn’t even going to tell them the full story.”

“Okay,” JJ said, “You’ve been very helpful. If you need anything, Garcia, Reid, and I are right here.”

Lena nodded, wiping a tear with the back of her hand. “Thank you.”

JJ gave a smile. “We will find who did this. I promise.”

The door clicked shut, and Lena was left alone with the perfect mug of tea and the perfect storm of emotions.

________________

Garcia’s fingers flew across the keyboard in her office. She had managed to look into Robert Carter’s records. She found employment records, donation logs, and anything else she could find. 

“She was right,” she murmured, “Her father kept everything.”

Reid leaned over her shoulder, taking a brief break from flipping through Lena’s assignments. 

“Filter anyone hired last summer with prior convictions.”

Garcia nodded. “Already ahead of you. One name fits the description. Michael Trent. He had served time for aggravated assault and possession, and was released three months before Lena graduated from high school, and was hired at the church within two weeks of his release. I have an address. It’s about thirty minutes from the Carters’ house. I’m sending it to Hotch now.”

Reid nodded. “Garcia, do me a favor. Get into Lena’s computer. I want to see all the casework from her internship, not just the things she turned in.”

Garcia’s hands paused. “Do you still think this is because of her academic work?”

“I’m not sure yet, but it’s too early to rule anything out.”

Garcia’s eyes softened. “I don’t like digging into her life, but she didn’t exactly make it difficult. When this is all over, we are going to have a long talk about cybersecurity.”

Most of the files were drafts, presentation decks, and behavioral summaries.

Reid leaned closer, staring at the screen. “Wait. Stop there. That doesn’t look like a normal assignment. He pointed to a file titled Parental Manipulation. “That doesn’t look like a standard assignment.”

Garcia clicked it open, and Reid’s suspicions were proven correct. 

“This doesn’t look like something she expected anyone else to see. Even her rough drafts are written with more finesse.”

He scanned the summary and frowned. 

“This…is a profile. It’s personal.”

Garcia leaned in. “What do you mean?”

“It starts as a behavior analysis. It mentions a parental figure but doesn’t specify the name or gender. She mentions a figure who uses their position of trust to manipulate, control, and isolate their family members. She compares public perception to private reality. It’s personal.”

Garcia’s hand hovered over the mouse. “She was trying to profile her father?”

Reid hesitated. “I think it started our as an academic exercise. Many classes will have students study the behavior of a friend or family member. But as it went on, she started to suspect something. Look at this.”

He pointed to a paragraph. 

In his community, he is viewed as a saint. He’s known for second chances, forgiveness, and quiet wisdom. But behind closed doors, he keeps a tight leash on what his family sees, does, and believes. 

Garcia blinked. “Why didn’t she share any of this with JJ?”

Reid stood straight. “How could she? She just walked in on their murder scene a few hours prior. I imagine giving up this information would feel like a betrayal, especially since she doesn’t know the full story yet.”

__________________

Prentiss glanced at the house through the windshield. The lawn was overgrown, a screen door was blown open by the wind, and the mailbox was dented. 

“We’ll keep it calm,” Hotch said, “and don’t mention the murders.”

Morgan nodded, stepping out of the car. He gave the door a firm knock. 

“Michael Trent?”

There was no answer. Prentiss glanced through the curtain. Just as they heard the rattle of the side gate. There he was, wrinkled clothes, a cigarette between his lips, and a trash bag in his hand.

“Can I help you folks?”

Hotch stepped forward. “Michael Trent?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

Morgan held up his badge. “FBI. We just want to ask a few questions.”

Trent cocked an eyebrow at the badge. “Questions about what?”

“You worked for Robert Carter,” Hotch said, “We’d like to ask about your time in his church.”

Trent chuckled, tossing his bag in the bin with a thud. “Why does the FBI care about a job I had two years ago? Carter is a good man. Helped me get back on my feet. In return, I did the best job I could. Didn’t steal, didn’t start fights.”

“If he was such a good boss,” Prentiss asked, “Why did you quit working for him after six months?”

“I didn’t,” he said, “I was asked not to return.”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed. “You were fired?”

Trent nodded. “He let me ‘quit’ so it wouldn’t look so bad when I tried to get a new job, but he said there were complaints. He said some of the women at the church were nervous about working around me when they heard about my past.”

Morgan crossed his arms. “And what was that past, Mr.Trent?”

Trent let out a breath, and smoke spilled out from his lips. “I’ve served my time, agent. It was just a couple of bar fights. I was a drunk, made some bad choices, and one night, a young lady got caught up in one of my fights. Paid for it in time, and I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since I got out.”

“What happened to the girl you hurt?” Prentiss asked. 

Trent dropped his cigarette on the ground, grinding it beneath his boot. “Broken wrist, concussion. Bruises. I was messed up back then. I tried to talk to her when I got out, but she didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Hotch muttered. 

Trent glared at Hotch. “I’ve served my time,” he repeated, “I got a job unloading trucks. I don’t drink, and I stay out of trouble.”

Morgan stepped forward. “Do you remember Carter’s daughter?”

Trent glanced up. “I saw her a few times. She was always polite. Sweet girl.”

Hotch struggled to suppress a glare. “Did you ever speak to her?”

“No, sir. I may have waved at her when she stopped by the church. She kept her distance.”

“Sounds like she has good instincts,” Prentiss said, watching for a reaction. 

Trent shrugged. “I can’t say I blame her. That’s why I never spoke to her.”

“Where were you last night between seven and eleven PM?” Hotch asked. 

Trent raised an eyebrow. “Home, watching TV. Why? Did something happen to him?”

“We’re questioning everyone who knew Mr.Carter.”

“Why? What happened? Did someone hurt him? I wouldn’t do that. He gave me a chance when no one else would. I’ll never forget him.”

_______________________________________

He watched the house from the ridge, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. The porchlight was still on. He had made a mess of that house. He had never meant to make such a mess. 

She wasn’t supposed to react that way. She wasn’t supposed to fall to the ground and cry like a child. 

“Lena, you’re smarter than that,” he had muttered. 

Because the truth was, he had left a message in that house that only Lena could understand. 

The truth will set you free.

Soon, Lena would remember the truth. She would remember the version of her father that lived behind closed doors. 

The BAU was close to finding him. If they let Lena back into the house, she would find his message, and he would be in cuffs in a matter of minutes. But they were focused on Trent. 

He started the engine and backed into the treeline, hoping to put them on the path that would lead to his arrest. 

_____________

Derek sipped his coffee as his phone buzzed. He hadn’t slept a wink since Lena’s parents were murdered. 

“Morgan,” he answered. 

“This is Detective Klein,” the voice answered, “have you spoken with Michael Trent recently?”

“Yes, sir,” Morgan said, “he was a possible suspect in a case my team is working on.”

“We just found his body, agent.”

“Where was he found?”

“Behind his house. Looks fresh. He was murdered.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, “please, don’t touch anything until I get there.” 

He stepped into Hotch’s office. “Michael Trent is dead,” he said, “He was dumped behind his house. The unsub knew we were questioning him, and he killed him to send a message.”

It was then that he realised Lena was still on the couch in Hotch’s office, thankfully, asleep. Hotch stood, and as they moved through the bullpen, he gave passing words to Reid. 

“Please check on her when she wakes up.”

It wasn’t long before they were at Michael Trent’s house. His body lay crumpled behind the building, eyes wide, neck at an unnatural angle. 

“It was a clean break,” the coroner mumbled, “no defensive wounds. He never saw it coming.”

Hotch crouched beside the body. “No drag marks. He was killed here.”

“Agent,” the detective said, handing Morgan a plastic evidence bag, “This was in his pocket.”

Blessed are you when men shall revile you and persecute you.

Chapter Text

Lena awoke to voices. They were low, but urgent. Hotch’s office had become the only safe place in the world for her, and now, it was filled with stress and danger that seemed to leak into the walls. She slowly sat up, letting the blanket slip from her shoulders. Her mouth was dry. She needed to brush her teeth, but she had left her toothbrush in the bags she had abandoned at the crime scene. She tied her hair back into a ponytail and stood, opening the door, hoping she didn’t look as terrible as she felt. 

Dr.Reid was the first to notice her. She had a huge crush on him during her internship, which she hoped he hadn’t picked up on. However, she was aware she was spending her summer with a group of profilers, but if anyone had noticed, they had the good graces not to say anything. 

Today, he looked tired. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Hey. You’re awake.”

“Did something happen?”

Reid hesitated before speaking. “Michael Trent was murdered early this morning.”

Lena’s mouth fell open. “Do you think it was the same person who-”

Hotch stepped into the room. “We believe it’s the same unsub.”

“I never thought he did it,” Lena said quietly.

“We didn’t either after we spoke to him,” Reid said, “We think the unsub killed him to send a message.”

Hotch’s eyes softened. “Lena, we believe this is all about you.”

She swallowed. “Me?”

Hotch exchanged a glance with Reid. 

“Garcia found something on your computer. Something we need to discuss.”

Lena’s stomach twisted. She wasn’t surprised that her computer had been searched. She was surprised that they had found anything relevant to the case. 

“What was it?’

“We should discuss this in private,” Hotch said. He led her back to his office. Reid followed and closed the door. 

The attractive doctor cleared his throat. “It was a document. A profile. Parental Manipulation. It wasn’t an assignment you submitted for your internship or your coursework at college. It seemed personal.”

“It was,” she said, more icily than she would have liked. She gasped at her tone and looked between the two agents, wide-eyed. “I-I’m sorry. That…wasn’t meant for anyone to read. It wasn’t finished. It wasn’t even a good profile. I let my emotions cloud my judgment.”

“We know,” Hotch said, “But it tells us something. You wrote about a man who used trust as a weapon. He was beloved by his community, but controlling in private. You didn’t name him, but it was obvious you were talking about your father.”

She didn’t answer right away, but her eyes burned. She wouldn’t cry again. This wasn’t the time or the place. 

“It was homework,” she said, “We were supposed to study the behavior of someone we knew well. We weren’t even supposed to analyze it at that point, just… make observations. I turned in the assignment, but some parts stuck with me, so I kept going.”

Hotch stepped closer. His tone was soft but firm. “Why didn’t you tell any of this to JJ yesterday?”

“Because,” she said, “I don’t even know if it’s true, and I wasn’t going to call my father a monster when his body wasn’t even cold yet.”

Reid spoke softly. “We think our unsub knew something about your father. He thinks you know it too.”

_____________

Penelope hadn’t left her desk in hours. Coffee sat cold by her elbow. She stared at the photo of Michael Trent’s body. She had dug into his life, and everything he had told the team yesterday had been true. There was only one thing out of place. 

Hotch called her. 

“Garcia,” he said, “I need anything you can find on the staff at Robert Carter’s church. Especially anyone who still lives in the area.”

“Already on it,” she said, “Sir, there’s something you should know about Trent’s records. His last paycheck wasn’t processed through the church. It was some kind of security firm, but it’s not licensed, so I will certainly be digging into that further.”

“Good work. Let me know when you have anything.”

“How’s she holding up?” 

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Garcia closed her many open tabs, but her mouse hovered over the profile Lena had written. She opened it and read some. 

Sometimes the scariest monsters are the ones who kiss their daughters on the forehead before bed.

__________-

JJ stood at the edge of the crime scene tape. 

“Ready?” Prentiss asked. 

JJ shrugged. “I’m just here to get a change of clothes for Lena. Gideon might appreciate having someone to bounce ideas off of, though.”

They moved into the entryway, where Lena’s discarded bags still sat. Then they stepped into the kitchen where the birthday cake sat under plastic wrap. Only this time, a slice had been taken out. 

“Hey Emily,” JJ said, “This had been tampered with. The unsub was here.”

JJ looked into the cake and found a note. She slipped on a pair of gloves and carefully unwrapped the cake and retrieved the paper. 

You did not buy me a sweet cane with your money or satisfy me with the best part of your sacrifices. You burdened me with your sins and troubled me with your transgressions. 

JJ stared at it for a moment before sliding it into the evidence bag Prentiss held out.

“He left this for Lena,” JJ said, “It’s her cake.”

Gideon came down the stairs. “I think she needs to come back here. The unsub left something that only she would understand.”

“I don’t think she’s ready for that,” Prentiss said, “Hotch won’t force her, and neither will the rest of the team.”

______________

He watched them from the edge of the treeline. They kept coming back, but they never brought Lena. The house was sacred ground. Sanctified by blood and silence. They were trespassing. The profilers thought they were smart. But Lena knew. She was just young, inexperienced. A little lamb who allowed herself to be led by the wolves. 

Her profile? A work of art.

He read it every night like a devotional. It brought him solace to know she had seen what he knew to be true his whole life. Her fury was evident on the page, and it thrilled him. 

He didn’t want to kill Trent, at least, not in the quick, painless way he had. He saw the way Trent had looked at Lena all those months ago. If he didn’t need to send his message quickly, he could have kept Trent for days, weeks, even slowly torturing the man who had scared Lena so much. 

He pulled another note from his pocket. This time, he would leave it somewhere only Lena would think to look. Carefully, he sealed it inside an envelope with her name on it. Even if they didn’t bring her back to the house, she would have to return eventually. She was the sole inheritor, so the house would go to her. Even if she didn’t intend on living there, she would have to sell it, and selling it meant cleaning it out. His message would be found, and then Lena would be saved. 

She was the only one worth saving. 

___________________________

Reid sat at his desk, fingers steepled in front of his lips, staring at the crime scene photos from when Trent was killed. 

What did he miss?

Trent had been dead for less than eight hours. Killed cleanly for lack of a better word. A Bible verse was left in his pocket, and another was left in the cake when Lena’s parents were killed. Guilt. Sin. Judgment. The verses had to mean something. He looked up at the board in front of him. 

• Blessed are you when men should revile you and persecute you. 

Was the unsub calling Michael Trent blessed? Or simply telling the team he wasn’t their unsub? Reid couldn’t say just yet. 

• You did not buy me a sweet cane with your money or satisfy me with the best part of your sacrifices. You burdened me with your sins and troubled me with your transgressions. 

It could mean the unsub thought the Carter family owed him something. Maybe the unsub was somehow harmed by the family? 

He glanced towards Hotch’s office. Lena hadn’t come out since their conversation, and understandably so. Reid pushed his glasses up his nose. 

“I think she knows more than she realizes,” he said to no one in particular. 

Hotch was at Morgan’s desk to give Lena some space. Morgan and Garcia had reluctantly gone home to rest after being ordered to do so. 

“She may be repressing something,” he said, not looking up from his notes. “It’s not uncommon for trauma, especially for someone like her. In her college classes and over the summer, she was taught to be observant, but being able to handle the things we see can only come with time. She handled herself fine in the field, but as I told her the other night, no amount of training prepares you to find your family like that. That profile she wrote? That was a crack in the perfect childhood she believed she had.”

I wasn’t going to call my father a monster when his body’s not even cold yet. 

He didn’t blame her. He had also refrained from mentioning that a human body cools about 1.5 degrees Fahrenheit per hour, so by the time JJ spoke to her, her father’s body was certainly cold. 

Prentiss looked at the board. 

“Let’s focus on the verse he left at the house,” she said, “the one he left on Trent was selected in haste, but he had time to pick the one in the cake.”

Reid read the words aloud. 

“Isaiah 43:24. King James Version. The use of scripture is interesting considering that Robert Carter was a  pastor.”

“And it was left in Lena’s cake,” JJ said, “So we can assume it was meant for Lena.”

Gideon didn’t look up. “The whole scene was meant for Lena. It was staged so that the first thing she would find was the bodies of her parents. We should let her go through the house. There’s something in there that only she would be able to understand.”

“She’s still sleeping,” Reid said quickly. 

Hotch gave a nod. “We can’t force her to go back, but I think she will. I think a part of her wants the truth just as much as we do. On the other hand, if our unsub has killed three people to get to Lena, it’s possible that being at the BAU is the only thing keeping her safe from him. And if we send her into that house, we’ll be allowing her to play by his rules.”

“But if we don’t,” Prentiss said, “he might escalate again.”

“I’ll talk to her,” he said, “but it’s her choice. If she isn’t ready, I can’t force her.”

Reid folded his hands. “I think at this point, she can find more than we can.”

JJ stepped into the room. “She’s awake.”

“How is she?” Hotch asked. 

“Tired,” JJ said, “She’s trying to put on a brave front. She asked for a toothbrush but didn’t say much else.”

“She’s trying to take back some control,” Hotch said. 

“We all would,” JJ said quietly. 

Hotch knocked before entering his office. Through the window, he could see her sitting up on the couch, cross-legged with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was staring out the window. 

“Lena,” he said gently, “Do you feel like talking?”

She shrugged. “It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

“You do,” he said, shutting the door quietly behind him. “I need to ask you something. We believe there is something in your house that the unsub wants you to see. We believe he left something only you would recognize. You won’t go in alone. Reid, Gideon, and JJ will be there with you. You will be safe. But I won’t pretend like I’m not asking you something extremely difficult.” 

After a long pause, Lena pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking, “I can’t.”

Hotch gave a single nod. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I had to ask this of you.”

Chapter Text

He waited for the light to go out. The apartment was modest, but charming. She must have lived there for years. She probably felt safe here. That was unfortunate, but he didn’t have much of a choice. 

He had been watching her for over an hour from the courtyard. She had slipped out of her shoes, showered, and even though he was certain she had been sent home to rest, he saw the brilliant glow of a laptop from her window. Penelope Garcia. 

She was digging through Lena’s life again. She did care for the girl. It made him feel warm inside that Lena had someone who cared about her in such a way. Sadly, that wouldn’t protect her from his justice. 

He waited for the screen to dim. When he entered her apartment, she didn’t stir. Her head was lulled sideways on the pillow, lips parted. Her glasses were still on. He gently removed them, quiet as a prayer. 

There would be no blood tonight. 

He pulled an envelope from his pocket and placed it by her head. 

Go back to your home, and tell all what I have done for you. 

Then, he placed his hand over the woman’s mouth, startling her awake. Her eyes flew open. They were a beautiful, soft brown. She tried to scream, but his hand was pressed firmly to her mouth. 

“Shhhhh,” he hushed, “I’m not here to hurt you, Penelope. And I won’t if you don’t make me.”

Tears welled almost instantly. Her body trembled. She was afraid, and that wasn’t a bad thing. That fear would keep her alive.

“I left your team a message,” he said, “I’m sure they’re smart enough to understand it. When they do as I’ve ordered, I’ll release you.”

She didn’t fight. She was a smart woman. Still, he needed to prove he was serious. In his other hand, he held a knife. The blade rested against her throat, but he didn’t press hard enough to hurt her. 

“I don’t want to shed your blood tonight,” he said, “but if you scream, I will have to.”

He wiped away a tear before removing his hand. Penelope didn’t scream. She was too smart for that. 

“Now, I need you to sit up and come with me.” 

Penelope sat up slowly. He could see now how much she was trembling. He took no pleasure in scaring the poor woman this much. Not like when he killed Pastor Carter. He took a step back, but he was still between her and the door. 

“Get your shoes,” he said quietly, “It’s chilly tonight.”

He extended a hand to help her stand. She flinched. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Penelope,” he chuckled as he reminded her, “We both want what’s best for Lena.”

Once her shoes were on, he led her through her apartment. They slipped out the door and into the night. 

___________

It was 3 am when Hotch’s phone vibrated on his desk. He answered it quickly. 

“Hotchner,” he said. 

It was a man’s voice, quiet, calm, distorted. 

“She’s with me. She’ll stay safe as long as you get my message.”

“Who is with you?” Hotch asked before the line went dead. 

He stepped out of his office, hollering into the bullpen. 

“Reid, Prentiss, JJ, Gideon, round table, now.”

The team was gathered in less than a minute. 

“The unsub called me. He says he has a woman, and she’ll be safe if we get his message.”

JJ turned away with her phone out. “Garcia’s at home. I should call and make sure she’s safe.”

“How did he get your number?” Prentiss asked. 

JJ turned back to the group. “Penelope’s number is going straight to voicemail.”

Reid’s head snapped up. “That’s not like her.”

“I’m calling Morgan,” Hotch said, “JJ, Reid, go to Garcia’s apartment. Be careful. If he’s not happy with how we’re handling the case, he will escalate, and that won’t be good for Garcia.”

Gideon leaned against the window. “He wants Lena back in that house.”

Hotch nodded. “We need to find what else he left for her. Even if she’s not up to it, we need to check the house again.”

JJ was quiet. “What do we tell her?”

Hotch looked back at his office. “We have to tell her the truth.”

JJ nodded and grabbed her coat. Reid followed without a word. 

He had tried to shield her from the situation as much as he could, but he couldn’t do that anymore. He turned to Prentiss. 

“You and Morgan return to Lena’s house. Look through the whole house, and anything that would be specific to Lena.”

Hotch and Gideon lingered in the room. “He’s cornering us,” Gideon said, “he won’t wait long for Lena to go back to that house.”

“I know,” Hotch said, “but what happens when he gets what he wants? I won’t sacrifice Lena to him.”

Hotch didn’t bother knocking when he entered his office. Lena sat straight up. 

“What’s happening?”

He stood. “Lena. Garcia has been taken hostage by the unsub.”

Lena's lips parted in surprise. 

“He says he left a message,” Hotch said, “if we understand the message, he says she’ll stay safe. He wants you back at the house. I know you said you couldn’t do it before-”

The color drained from her face. “I’ll do it. If it keeps Garcia safe, I can go back.”

________________________________________________________________

JJ and Reid hadn’t said a word since they left Quantico. They both secretly hoped that Garcia was still at home and she had just forgotten to charge her phone or something. 

The apartment was quiet. Her car was parked out front. The lights were off. 

JJ knocked on her door. Nothing. “Penelope?” she called, “It’s JJ and Reid, are you in there?”

Reid tried the nob. It was unlocked. They entered slowly, clearing the room. 

“She’s not here,” JJ said.

Reid moved toward the bed. “Her laptop is here. She probably fell asleep working. She didn’t log off.”

JJ noticed a slip of paper next to the pillow. She slipped on a glove and held it up. 

Go back to your home and tell all what I have done for you.

“She was taken from her bed,” JJ said, wrapping her arms around herself. 

Reid’s eyes were on the note. “He’s using scripture to speak to Lena, but this one was altered, unlike the others. The original verse says, ‘Go back to your home and tell all what the Lord has done for you.’”

JJ stared at the paper, and then at the apartment, which was so full of colors and trinkets but so empty because Garcia wasn’t there. “So he sees himself as God?”

Reid nodded. “And he’s chosen Lena as a disciple.”

He stepped back from the bed. “There’s no sign of a struggle. She was probably too scared to fight back.”

JJ walked to the window where the curtain was slightly parted. “How long do you think he was watching her?”

“Long enough,” Reid said. 

JJ swallowed. “We need to call Hotch.”

She stepped into the hall. 

“JJ,” Hotch answered, “Is everything alright?”
“She’s gone,” JJ said, “she was asleep when he broke in. There was a Bible verse on the nightstand, but he changed it. Our unsub took out the reference to God and replaced it with himself.”

“Lena has agreed to go back to the house,” Hotch said, “If you could get there as soon as possible, I think having you there would be helpful for her.”

JJ frowned. “She agreed?”

“She wants to help Garcia.”

“But if we take her back to that house, aren’t we just playing into our unsub’s delusions?”

“We are,” Hotch admitted, “but we’re out of options. If we don’t do as we’re told, we lose Garcia.”

JJ was silent for a moment. “We can be there in twenty.”

______________________________________________

Hotch hung up the phone, turning to where Lena had been standing. She held the bag JJ had packed for her just yesterday. Her face was pale, her eyes were dull, and she was eerily quiet. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, “we can find another way.”

“I already said I would,” she said, raising her voice just a little, “Garcia wouldn’t be in danger if it wasn’t for me. I can’t risk her life because I’m scared.”

Hotch nodded. “JJ and Reid will meet us at the house. Prentiss and Morgan are sweeping the house to make sure it’s safe, but everything else is being left untouched. We believe he left something in the house that only you would understand.”

Lena took a breath and stepped on the elevator. 

_______________________________________

Prentiss clicked on her flashlight. They hadn’t spoken much. The weight of Garcia’s disappearance pressed on both of them.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Morgan muttered. 

He was quiet as he stepped into the living room. “I keep thinking I should have been there. She must be so scared right now.”

Prentiss glanced at him. “Penelope’s not helpless. We’ll get her back.”

They swept their flashlights across the room. The mantle above was filled with pictures of Lena and her family. 

Prentiss’ phone buzzed with a text from Hotch.

We’re bringing her in. Be ready.

Morgan glared at the carpet. “If that bastard hurts her. I’ll-”

Prentiss cut in. “We’ll find her.”

Morgan didn’t answer. He scanned the photos of birthdays, holidays, and candid moments. As Lena got older, her smiles got more and more stiff.

“I wish we knew what was going on in this house,” Morgan said quietly. 

Prentiss stared at a picture of Lena on her eighth birthday with her arm around a bike. Her father’s hand gripped her shoulder, and it looked tight.

“Everything looks so normal, it’s almost creepy,” Prentiss murmured. 

Morgan nodded. “Reid said she was profiling her father for a school project. She probably knows more than she’s willing to admit right now.”

Gideon opened the front door. “Hotch and Lena are here. Are we ready?”

Morgan nodded. “Let’s find out what he wants her to remember.”

______________________________________________________

Hotch stepped out of the car and walked over to the passenger’s seat. Lena hadn’t moved since the car stopped. 

“I’ll stay with you the whole time,” Hotch said, “you won’t be alone for a second.”

Lena nodded, but her hands trembled.

The porch creaked under their steps. He opened the door for her, and Lena paused. 

“What if I can’t find what he wants me to see? What if-”

“I’m with you,” Hotch said, “we can look together.”

Morgan was in the living room. Lena’s eyes scanned the mantle. 

“That’s not right,” she said quietly. 

She walked over to the mantle and picked up a picture of herself on her father’s lap at six years old. 

“This isn’t supposed to be at home. My dad always kept it on his desk at the church.”

“There’s something he wants you to remember,” Hotch said softly. 

“I remember this picture,” she said, “there was a church picnic. I was playing and I didn’t want to sit still for my picture with him. I kept making silly faces, and-”

The room went still. “Lena, did he hurt you?” Morgan asked. 

Lena shook her head. Tears filled her eyes, but never fell.

“He disciplined me, sure, but I needed it,” she said, staring at her hands, “I embarrassed him in front of the congregation. I needed to learn respect. That’s all it was.”

“No,” Prentiss said, “that’s not all it was. Lena, you were six.”

Hotch stepped closer. “Lena, what happened after this photo was taken?”

Lena’s voice trembled. “He took me out back to the shed. He told me to pray, and he didn’t let me out until I learned to honor my father.”

“How long were you out there?” Hotch asked.

“I don’t know. It got dark. I used to be afraid of the dark, but I got over it,” she said. 

Hotch stepped forward. “Lena. What your father did to you was wrong, and I think a part of you knows that.”

She looked up at him, and then back down at the floor. “No. You don’t understand. I was a really bad kid. I deserved it.”

“No child deserves that,” Hotch said, “and the man who did this wants you to reconnect with past memories. Since he was able to get into your father’s office, I think we should go there next.”

Chapter Text

Lena hesitated at the bottom of the church steps. Her fingers reached for her cross pendant. She hadn’t been here since the Sunday before her internship started at the beginning of the summer. 

Hotch stood beside her. 

“I loved this place,” she said, “it always felt like a second home.”

Hotch didn’t say anything as they stepped onto the first stair. 

The air inside was stale and smelled of wood polish. Lena could still hear echoes of hymns. The sanctuary was dimly lit through the glow of stained glass windows. 

“His office is back here,” Lena said, leading them into a hallway behind the pulpit.

The door was unlocked. 

At first glance, nothing had changed. The books on the shelves were neat and uniform. Sermon notes for this coming Sunday were stacked on the desk. Lena checked the space on the desk where the photo of her and her father sat for thirteen years. 

Her father’s Bible was in its place. It was worn and fraying at the spine. Lena was hesitant to touch it. She opened the book to where the silk bookmark was. 

The pages opened to The Gospel of Mark. One verse had been underlined in red ink. 

Whoever causes these little ones who believe in me to stumble, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea.

Beneath the verse was a sticky note that had the same handwriting as the other notes. 

You remember.

Lena stared at the note. “Did he do all this to get to me?”

Hotch’s phone vibrated. He turned so Lena couldn’t see the message, but she peeked over his shoulder to see a picture of Garcia. Her glasses were gone, and she had been crying, but she was unharmed. Still, the sight made Lena gasp. 

Hotch slid the phone into his pocket. 

“He wants you to remember what your father did. He wants you to know that it was wrong.”

Lena’s hands trembled. “I used to cry when he locked me in the shed. Then, one day I thought if I was quiet enough, he wouldn’t put me there anymore. He always said I would thank him one day. I tried to. I tried to understand him. Maybe the unsub is mad at me for not hating my dad.”

Hotch stepped forward. “None of this is your fault. We’re going to put an end to this.”

Lena’s fingers traced underneath the desk, and she paused when a drawer opened. 

“This used to be locked. Always.”

She tugged it open, and inside was a leatherbound journal. 

She picked it up slowly. 

The first few pages were prayers and ideas for sermons. 

Near the middle were paragraphs about sin, disobedience, and the struggles of raising a “strong-willed” child.

Lena glanced up at Hotch. “This is about me.”

Hotch stepped closer, reading over her shoulder.

She tests me daily. Her spirit is rebellious. But I will not fail in my duty as a father.

Lena’s lips parted as she flipped to the next page. 

Only discipline brings clarity.

She blinked quickly. 

“I thought he was acting out of love,” she whispered, “I thought he was helping me be good.”

Lena turned to the last page. 

She’s continuing to pull away. College was one thing, but now she’s talking about solving crimes for a living. I pray God will break her pride before it’s too late.

Lena closed the book.

“He never liked the idea of me going into law enforcement. I thought he was coming around when he gave me this necklace, but I guess he never really would have.”

Hotch gently took the journal from her hands. “What your father did was about control. Not love.”

Lena nodded, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

“It feels wrong to talk about him like this. I still feel like I should protect him.”

“Because he’s your father. He raised you to believe you owed him, but Lena, you don’t owe him anything.”

____________________________________________________________________

Penelope didn’t know how long she had been there. 

The basement was cold and damp. Her wrists were zip-tied, but not painfully so. She could move, but not far. Her glasses had been taken, and without them, the world became nothing more than soft colors and vague outlines. 

She hated that she couldn’t see, but more than that, she hated being away from her team. 

Garcia closed her eyes and tried to focus. Her stomach twisted at the memory of waking up to him in her apartment. He had been calm. Almost kind. 

She shivered. The same man who had been tender with her had killed three people less than  48 hours ago. 

She knew her team would come for her. All she had to do was stay alive long enough to be found. 

The stairs above her creaked. Penelope turned her head, trying to make out the shape coming for her. For a few seconds, she allowed herself to believe it was someone from her team. 

“Penelope,” the man said, “I thought I’d check on you.”

She didn’t respond. He knelt in front of her. 

“I sent them proof of life,” he said, “that should be enough to motivate her.”

Garcia stiffened. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m sorry, but I do,” he said, “Lena won’t see the truth unless I force her to. You matter to her, so you matter to me. She’s already been back at the house. She’ll remember what was done to her, and justice will follow.”

He stood.

“I’ll be back,” he said, “once she understands.”

Garcia allowed herself to breathe once he ascended the stairs. 

Her team would come for her. She just had to hold on a little longer. 

____________________________________________________

Morgan’s knee bounced up and down under the conference room table.

“Tell me what we’re missing,” he snapped,” we have a picture of Garcia, so we know she’s alive. We see this guy’s been watching Lena. What else do we need to find him?”

JJ looked up from the board. “The journal confirms the abuse we suspected. He saw breaking her as a divine duty.”

“That lines up with our unsub’s fixation,” Prentiss said, “he wants Lena to renounce the version of her father she still clings to.”

Reid was fidgeting with his pen. “He’s using scripture to justify his actions. He sees himself as an instrument of justice.”

Morgan stood, suddenly. “So what does that make Garcia? A pawn?”

“Not a pawn,” Hotch said. “Lena didn’t respond as he expected. He took Garcia as leverage to get Lena back to the places he thought would help her remember.”

Red leaned forward. “The locations he’s chosen are all personal. Lena’s house, the church, Garcia’s apartment.”

“These are all places where you’re supposed to feel safe,” Prentiss said quietly.  

JJ nodded. “He doesn’t seem interested in hurting  Lena. He wants her to see the truth.”

Morgan began to pace. “ She went back to that house.  So why hasn’t he let Garcia go?”

Reid tapped his pen against the table.  

“Her parents’ funeral is tomorrow morning. The unsub may want Lena to reject them publicly.”

Prentiss turned to JJ. “Do you think she could do that?”

JJ didn’t look up from her file. “She’s still trying to convince herself that what happened was wrong. Asking her to reveal it in front of the whole congregation is a lot.”

Hotch was already standing. “It’s not ideal, but this could be our best chance to get Garcia home safely. We’ll be there the entire time.”

Morgan stopped pacing. “But is Lena up for something like that?”

Hotch met his eyes. “If Garcia’s life depends on it, she’ll try. The unsub will likely attend the funeral, and this could be a time to make him reveal himself. 

JJ  looked up. “We can’t force her.”

“For the unsub,” Reid said, “Lena’s rejection of her father could be the final piece. He likely sees it at the end of his mission.”

“What if she can’t?” Morgan asked. 

“He won’t kill Garcia. He’s not reckless. If he kills her, he loses leverage.”

Prentiss looked around the table. “We’ll have some of us in the church and some of us outside. I don’t want him near her.”

Hotch nodded. “Some of us should speak with Lena. If she agrees, we move forward, and if not, we can find another way.”

Gideon leaned forward. “There’s no harm in asking. Let her know we aren’t sending her in alone. She’ll have someone with her the whole time.”

“We can’t use her as bait,” Morgan said, shaking his head. The sharpness in his voice had dulled. 

“No, she’s not,” Morgan agreed, “but the unsub did this to get her attention.”

“We’ll make sure she’s safe,” Prentiss said, “and we’ll let her take the lead.”

Reid tapped his fingers. “If Lena stands up at her parents’ funeral and speaks out against her father, he may believe his work is done and let Garcia go.”

“Or it could cause him to snap,” Morgan muttered. 

JJ glanced towards the door. “Prentiss, Reid, and I will talk to her. She trusts us.”

Hotch nodded. “If she’s not ready, we can find another way.”

“We won’t leave her alone in that church,” Gideon said, “not for a second.”

“You three go,” Hotch said, “ The rest of us will prepare the church.”

______________________________________________________

Lena sat on the edge of Hotch’s couch, holding a tissue she hadn’t used. The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting stripes across the carpet. She kept seeing her father’s handwriting. 

She’s continuing to pull away. I pray God will break her pride before it’s too late. 

A soft knock pulled her from her thoughts. She rose, legs stiff from sitting too long. 

When she opened the door, it was JJ with Prentiss and Reid behind her. No one smiled, but their faces were all gentle. JJ entered first. 

“Can we talk for a second?”

Lena nodded and stepped back to let them in. 

Prentiss stepped by the window. Reid hovered awkwardly, unsure of whether to sit or stand. 

JJ took Lena’s hand and led her to the couch. “We’re here because we might need something from you. Before I say anything, I want you to know you don’t have to do what we’re suggesting.”

Lena blinked. “What’s this about?”

“We think the unsub might attend your parents’ funeral,” Emily said softly.

“What would he want from there?”

“We can’t know for sure,” Reid said, “but everything he’s done so far has been directed at you, and this could be the final piece.”

Lena swallowed, not even noticing how she was tearing apart the tissue.

JJ’s voice was steady but firm. “If you’re not ready, you don’t have to, but if you are ready, we believe the unsub wants to hear you speak out against your parents. If you were able to do that, he might let Garcia go.”

Lena looked down. “He’ll be watching.”

“We’ll be there too,” Prentiss said, “You won’t be alone. Not even for a second.”

It was silent before Lena nodded. 

“I’ll do it.”

JJ reached over and took her hand. “We’ll help you through it. Every word.”

Lena didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, “I didn’t even know what to say for the real eulogy.”

“We will help with the speech,” Reid said, “It won’t be long. Just honest.”

Lena nodded. “How can I speak out against him? I still love him.”

JJ squeezed her hand. “We aren’t asking you to stop loving him. We’re just asking you to tell the truth.”

Prentiss turned from the window. “Honesty could bring Garcia home.”

She looked up at them. “I never spoke about this stuff. Not even when I was little.”

“You’re not little anymore,” Prentiss said. 

“No,” Lena agreed, “but I’m just as scared to speak against him now as I was then.”

JJ leaned in. “This is your chance to speak up for her. Make it count for yourself and Garcia.”

Lena pressed her palm against her chest, feeling the pendant beneath her shirt.

“Okay,” she said, “I want to write something now just in case I lose my nerve tomorrow.”

JJ stood and offered a smile. “We’re here to help.”

Lena nodded and rose from the couch. “I’d like to write it alone at first. Maybe it will sound more authentic that way. Can one of you stay with me until I’m finished?”

“Of course,” Prentiss said immediately.

Lena sat in one of the chairs across from Hotch’s desk. She sat, picked up a pen, and stared at the blank paper.

Chapter Text

The church was fuller than Lena had expected. 

Women from the choir, couples, young and old, whom her parents had counseled. Soft piano music drifted from the front. Lena sat in the front row, the paper in her hands wet with tears and sweat. 

JJ leaned in and whispered as the hymn came to a close. “You don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready. We can find another way.”

Lena didn’t answer. 

The assistant pastor stood at the pulpit. His words washed over her. Something about her parents’ obedience, how they could finally rest, and there was a line about their legacy. The crowd applauded, and then Lena realised she was on her feet, walking to the front of the church. Her knees trembled. 

Lena kept her eyes on the paper in her hand. She paused when she reached the pulpit. 

“This is just something I wrote for…for my parents,” she said, “ Growing up, church was the safest place I knew.”

She paused, daring to look up at the crowd. JJ was seated in the front row. Hotch’s eyes swept the crowd, but he managed to meet hers for just a moment to give a nod. Reid and Gideon sat in the back. Reid offered a small, crooked smile, and Gideon gave a wave of his hand, telling her to move on with it. 

“My parents believed in order and discipline, which was apparent in how they ran their church and their home. Everything they did, I had to believe was for my good. Even when it hurt. Even when it scared me.”

She looked up at the crowd. 

“Until a few months ago, my greatest fear was disappointing them. Now, my greatest would be to live my life to please them. My father didn’t love me,” she said, her voice filling with tears, “but I loved him, and a part of me will always love him.”

A man in the back row stood. 

JJ stepped forward, putting an arm around Lena and guiding her away from the podium. 

“You did good,” she whispered. 

The man stepped into the aisle, and Morgan and  Prentiss burst through the doors of the church. 

The church filled with confused murmurs. 

The man smirked with tears in his eyes. “What do you mean you love him?”

He slowly opened his jacket, revealing a bomb strapped to his chest. 

Gasps rippled through the pews. Someone screamed. JJ stepped in front of Lena, pulling her back from the pulpit. 

“Everyone, stay calm!” Hotch shouted, “Do not run!”

Morgan and Prentiss flanked the man, weapons drawn but not raised. The unsub looked at Lena. 

“I did everything to show you the truth,” he said, “and you still love him?”

“He’s my father,” Lena said as JJ held her back, “I’m not defending what he did.”

Tears streamed down the man’s face. 

“I was trying to save you,” he said, “I was chosen to save you.”

“We can talk about that,” Hotch said, “if you let everyone go, you and I can sit down and we’ll talk about everything you did to save Lena.”

The unsub blinked. “I…I wanted her to understand.”

“She does,” Gideon said, “but that’s her father. It’ll take years for her to truly understand everything that happened.”

JJ pulled Lena behind a pew, and Reid slowly helped guide the attendants in the back to leave. 

Hotch took a single step forward. “It doesn’t have to end this way. You want justice. You can come with me and tell me every horrible thing Robert Carter did to you, but going after his daughter won’t get you the justice you want.”

“She’s not just his daughter,” the unsub said, “she’s my sister.”

Gasps filled the sanctuary. Lena froze. 

“What?” she whispered.

The unsub’s chest heaved. “He never told you about me, did he? I wasn’t worthy of his acknowledgement. I was the product of a mistake he spent his whole life trying to forget about. I was a stain his reputation couldn’t afford. Lena, why did you never get it? I just wanted you to stop worshiping the man who ruined both our lives.”

“Then why did you take Penelope?” Morgan growled, “She didn’t do anything to you.”

“She was with Lena when she came home. I thought taking Penelope would get her attention. I was right.”

Lena stood slowly, shaking off JJ’s hands.

“I believe you,” she said gently, stepping into the aisle, “I’m so sorry he hurt you. I want to hear about it. I want to remember him for who he was. Not for who he pretended to be. Tell them where Garcia is, let everyone go, and I swear to you I will listen to every word you have to say.”

Her brother’s voice cracked. “You’ll listen? After everything I did?”

Lena nodded. “Just let them go, and tell my team where to find Penelope.”

The man sniffled. “Everyone except my sister can leave.”

He cocked his head to Morgan and Prentiss. Penelope is buried in Robert Carter’s grave. I hope you get to her in time.”

“Morgan, Prentiss, go,” Hotch said. 

Morgan and Prentiss bolted out of the sanctuary. 

The man nodded to the door. “Everyone else out. Go.”

Soon, the building was empty, save for Lena, her brother, JJ, Hotch, Reid, and Gideon. 

Hotch didn’t move. “We’re staying until she’s safe.”

The man kept his gaze on Lena. “You didn’t know about me?”

Lena shook her head. “I swear.”

He wiped his face. “When my mother died, he let me stay in the foster system.”

Lena stepped forward. “I’m sorry,” she said, “he hurt me, too. I’d like to know you now. I promise, if you let them take you into custody, I will not abandon you like he did.”

He dropped to his knees, sobbing. 

Hotch lunged forward, disarming the trigger. He secured the vest, and cuffed the man. 

Gideon stepped in, pushing Lena away from the scene. 

“We’ve go him,” Hotch said into his mic, “We’re on our way to help with Garcia.”

__________________________________________________________________

Garcia was suffocating beneath the duct tape over her mouth. The coffin was pitch black around her. Her wrists ached from being bound, and her legs were numb. 

She forced herself not to scream, knowing that would only waste air. 

Instead, she forced herself to believe people were coming for her. 

Morgan, or JJ, or Hotch. Someone would find her. 

She just had to ignore the fact that she was buried alive. 

Something around her shifted. She heard people shouting. A sob escaped her. 

“I’m here!” she tried to say as her bound hands pounded against the lid of her coffin. 

The lid shifted. Light gut through the darkness. 

She panicked through her blurred vision as a face appeared above, and a pair of hands reached down for her.

“Baby girl,” Morgan said, “it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She burst into tears as her sip ties were cut and the tape was removed from her mouth. Morgan held her close as she clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder. 

“I knew you were coming.”

Prentiss knelt beside them, brushing the dirt from Garcia’s hair with gentle hair. “Let’s get you out of here.”

They helped her to her feet, and Morgan held her close pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“One of us will ride with you,” Prentiss said.

They passed by the front of the church, just in time for Garcia to see her abductor being led out of the church by Hotch. She froze, and felt Morgan’s grip tighten on her arm slightly. 

“It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

He brought her to an ambulance, allowing her to sit. She squeezed his hand and closed her eyes, resting on his shoulder. Morgan kissed the top of her head, and spoke into her hair again. 

“Don’t scare me like that again, alright?”

She smiled and shook her head. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

JJ jogged over to the ambulance with Lena in tow. 

Garcia’s eyes widened. “Lena…”

Lena stopped short, staring at her. “I’m sorry,” she said, “he only went after you to get my attention. It’s my fault I-”

Garcia stood, wrapping her arms around Lena’s shoulders. “You didn’t do this.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Lena said.

Hotch stood a few feet away, arms folded. Gideon stood on the front steps of the church, hands in his pockets. 

__________________________________________________

Two weeks later. 

Lena sat at a metal table, hands folded tightly in her lap. Hotch sat beside her. 

The man looked thinner here. His hands were cuffed to the table as he was forced into a chair. 

“I’ve been reading,” he said, “I know you like to read. Has anything caught your eye lately?”

Lena didn’t answer. She didn’t know how. She had promised she would come visit him, and it took both Gideon and Hotch coming for her to feel safe enough to do so. It also took multiple reassurances from Garcia that visiting the man who kidnapped her and burried her alive was not a betrayal. 

His eyes looked up to hers. “They say I’m unstable.”

“You are,” she said, “but I still want to get to know you. I can’t visit like this all the time. I have college. But I can call, and write.”

His eyes darted between Lena and the two men accompanying her.

“That’s it? You promised you would come visit me and it took you weeks,” he said, “you couldn’t even come in without backup, and now you’re telling me you’re leaving?”

Hotch was going to say something but Lena spoke before he could. “I kept my promise, but I can’t put my life on hold for you.”

“His face turned angry. “This whole time I was trying to save you from dad. Turns out you’re just as evil as he is, and you’re abandoning me just like he did.”

Lena flinched. 

Hotch stepped in. “She doesn’t have to be here.”

He leaned forward as far as his chains would allow.

“You’re just like him. I see it now. I should have killed all three of you.”

Lena’s stomach twisted, and she forced her back to straighten. “Of course you think that because I’m not reacting exactly how you wanted that you can act violently towards me. After all, you are your father’s son.”

The metal chair scraped as he lunged forward, only stopped short by his chains.

“Don’t you dare compare me to him!” he roared, “I love you! I got rid of him for you!”

Hotch’s arm shot out between Lena and her brother. Lena didn’t move. 

“You buried my friend alive,” she said. 

His body trembled. “I just needed you to see.”

“I do see,” Lena said, holding back tears, “you’re hurting, but that doesn’t give you a right to hurt others.”

“I thought you were different,” he growled, “but you’re just weak adn lying to protect him.”

Hotch stood. “That’s enough.”

The guard entered, securing the man’s restraints tighter. 

“You were supposed to help me,” he whispered.

Lena quietly rose to her feet. “I’ll come visit around Christmas.”

She quickly walked out of the room. Hotch followed. 

“I don’t know why I came here,” Lena said.

Hotch didn’t respond until they were at the end of the corridor.

“Because you wanted to keep your promise.”

Lena crossed her arms, pressing her back against the wall. Her eyes stung. “He really did think he was helping me. I don’t want to be like him. Or my father.”

“You’re not.”

She looked up at him. 

“I don’t know if I’m coming back for Christmas.”

Lena looked down the hallway, toward the brother she had just met. 

“I should go home. I have a lot of packing to do.”

Hotch nodded and walked silently beside her. It wasn’t until they were outside that he spoke again.

“You don’t have to make a decision today,” he said, “and whether you come back or not is your decision. Not his.”

Lena hugged herself, staring into the parking lot. “I thought coming here would settle something.”

“You were brave to come at all,” Hotch said. 

They walked to the car in silence, and Lena knew she wouldn’t be coming back.