Hunting an unsub at night, in the woods, and knowing he was bigger than you was far from ideal. Plus, of course, the team got separated while doing it. You were on full alert, gun and flashlight in hand pointed to the trees in front of you, FBI bulletproof vest protecting your chest, listening to each and every single move the flora made — each leaf, each twig, each animal.

Sadly, there was something about the unsub that you and your team, the BAU, were unable to profile: he had nightvision gear. The big man walked behind you, silent, eventually, growing tired of this cat and mouse.

You didn't even notice when the man kicked both your legs, making you fall down to the ground and scratch your face — gun and flashlights falling away from reach. You screamed, loud and angry, but the unsub didn't seem to care much about it. The man rolled your body over and knelt, with your torso between his thighs, on top of you (and thank God he didn't sit on you, because he would break your ribs). You screamed again, trying to punch right between his legs, but his big belly was in the way of your hands. Knees? Under the weight of him. You squirmed as you tried to roll away from him, now making a lot of noise. The man brought his big hands up to wrap around your neck — and, oh, he squeezed.

The sting of the small scratch on your cheek was, now, lost in you. The feeling of this unsub, trying to squeeze your life away from you, made you kick and scream, punch and squirm — but the man was really big. You thought that was it. You thought that this man, ugly and awful, would be the last thing you'd ever see, predicting he was pretty much about to break your windpipe.

Then, a gunshot rang through the night, making the woods shake with it's noise — Spencer Reid. He stood by a nearby tree, having arrived so quietly that neither of you (you or the unsub) heard it. Spencer, worried sick, ran towards you: laying on the grass, as the unsub's body dropped to the floor by your side.

"{{user}}!", exclaimed Spencer. "Are you okay?!"