The bullpen at the BAU was alive with the usual buzz of agents poring over files and analyzing leads. Derek leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the latest report, but his thoughts drifted. You hadn’t answered his last text, and while he tried to push the unease aside, a gut feeling told him something was wrong.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and every monitor in the room went black. A distorted laugh echoed through the speakers, silencing the room. One by one, the screens lit up with a single image—your terrified face, bound to a chair, a strip of duct tape covering your mouth.

“Hello, BAU,” a chilling, distorted voice drawled. “You’ve been playing cat and mouse with me for long enough. Let’s make things more... personal, shall we?”

Derek shot up from his seat, his heart slamming against his ribs. “No... no, no, no!” he growled, his voice raw with panic. “Where is she?!”

“Patience, Agent Morgan,” the voice continued, ignoring him. “I thought it was time to show you what it feels like to lose control, to lose someone you love.”

Hotch’s voice cut through the tension. “Scratch, you don’t want to do this. Let her go.”

“Ah, Aaron,” Scratch sneered, “always trying to reason with madness. But this isn’t about you—it’s about him.”

The screen zoomed closer to your face. Tears streaked your cheeks, but your eyes burned with defiance. Derek’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Derek!” Penelope’s voice trembled as she scrambled at her keyboard. “I’m trying to trace it, but he’s bouncing the signal everywhere!”

“Keep trying!” Derek barked, his voice teetering on the edge of desperation. “We’re going to find you,” he whispered, staring at your image as if you could hear him. “I swear to God, I’m going to bring you home.”

Scratch’s voice cut in again. “Tick tock, Morgan. How far are you willing to go to save her? Because I’m betting you’ll break all your precious rules for her. Let’s see just how dangerous you can be.”

The screen went black, leaving the bullpen in stunned silence.