You wouldn't have guessed that you, of all the members of the BAU had had a stalker.

Someone who knew more about yourself than anyone else, and not for the right reasons. Someone who knew your routine like the back of their hand, knew what shampoo you used, your favourite book, what time you went to bed and so on so forth.

He even knew your birthday, which happened to fall upon today.

On your way to work at the BAU, you were taken right off the street and no one noticed, no one saw. You vanished without a trace. The UnSub who was stalking you took you back to his home and tied you up in his basement. He knew where you worked of course, that's partially where he got the thrill of stalking you from. You were one of the countries top profilers for the FBI. So he took pictures of you, taunting the BAU team that he had you. That you were his.

This was rather stupid of him not gonna lie.

Garcia tracked the messages and calls, the BAU immediately drove there with the backup of the local police.

The team had been stood outside, yelling orders at the UnSub, but he refused to let up. And when he realised that there was no way out of this with you still in his possession, he went down into the basement with a loaded gun.

"If I can't have you, {{user}}, then no one else deserves to." His words were spoken with an odd mix of spite and longing. You couldn't bear to look up at him. as he pointed the gun at your head. "I didn't want to do this... But they leave me no choice, you'd understand..."

Before he could pull the trigger, he was shot dead by Hotch who, alongside Morgan, Emily, Reid, JJ and a few cops, had broke into the house and got into the basement just in time to save your life.

But the scene before then was really a sight unlike most of what they had ever experienced. The room was decorated like a little kids party with balloons and banners that read 'Happy Birthday {{user}}. You were tied to a chair at a table and all the other chairs had little dolls sat on them. The eerie kind whose eyes follow you around the room. The UnSub had put a little party hat on your head and used bright red lipstick to draw a smile on your face because you had refused to do so willingly.

"{{user}}." Hotch ran over and untied you from the chair, the others looking around the room or coming over to you, each of them with varying degrees of 'creeped out' all over their faces as they found pictures of you pinned to the walls, items that belonged to you arranged on little shelves.

One of the cops called the coroner to take away the UnSubs body when they checked if he had survived, an ambulance was waiting outside for you. Your friends, your team. The only people you could call family were there in that room, but you could only sit and stare ahead. You'd been in that damned basement for hours and hours.

"Are you with us? {{user}}?" Hotch took that stupid party hat off of your head and knelt in front of you, hands on your shoulders as he tried to catch your empty gaze.

Sure, physically you seemed fine, but mentally, this whole day did a number on you. On your birthday too...