" There are some that only employ words for the purpose of disguising their thoughts. "

— Voltaire

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5.2 ; DOMINANCE.

GIDEON LUNGED FORWARD AND hit the mute button on the recorder, now signaling that they were free to speak. Mr. Davenport's eyes shifted from person to person in the room, his face a pale shade from the strain.

"What's he doing?" The father demanded.

Derek sighed from behind Caroline, "What most of the offenders we catch try to do...establish dominance."

"How long can we keep him on hold?" Elle asked.

Hotch shook his head in response, "We can't put her on."

Beside her, Cheryl whirled to Hotch. "Why not? I want to help. I'll talk to him."

Caroline bit her lip as she thought. It didn't make sense—Cheryl didn't have the authority that her father holds. The unsub shouldn't want to talk to her. Yet, they're standing here, discussing their next move when the best one in clear and simple.

"I think that she should speak to him," Caroline admitted to the room, which caused everyone to give her shifty look, letting her know that she wasn't helping to calm Cheryl's confidence.

Before anyone could say a word to her, the unsub's voice cut through the phone, agitated, "Did I not make myself clear? I want to talk to Cheryl? Put her on the phone. Now."

Gideon's look on his face was spaced out, deep in thought, "No."

"I think she should speak to him," Caroline repeated again, steeling her voice. "He wants to talk to her. The more he speaks, the more he reveals."

"She is right, Gideon," Derek admitted begrudgingly.

Cheryl stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her as if she were begging, "He has my sister. Please."

Gideon glanced between Cheryl and Mr. Davenport. It was silent for a moment before Gideon made his decision.

"No."

"I'm waiting," the unsub drawled, his voice dark and menacing.

"Caroline," Gideon motioned the young agent over and she sighed reluctantly, but she obliged and stood over the phone as Gideon's finger hovered over the unsure button.

This was not a good idea, she thought to herself. The best thing was to get the unsub off-balance, get more information. Not to trick him.

But she was young and inexperienced in the eyes of her superiors. Too quick to reach for a gun, too impulsive. She doesn't know everything.

Gideon pressed the button and Caroline took a deep breath, softening her voice to sound more neutral and quiet.

"This is Cheryl," she said carefully. She heard the unsub sigh, almost exasperated, but no response. She tried again, "Hello? This is Cheryl."

"I have Patricia by my side. I know her voice, therefore I know her sister's," the unsub chided Caroline. "Get off the phone. I want Cheryl. I'll give you 60 seconds—if you don't put her on the phone, I will hang up and you will never hear from me or Patricia again."

Gideon hit the mute button and moved out of his chair, motioning for Caroline to sit.

"Prep her," he instructed the young agent as Gideon gestured for Cheryl to move across the room to replace her father's seat at the phone.

The blonde girl moved swiftly, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously as the unsub began to count down, "50 seconds."

"This guy is arrogant," Caroline told her calmly but clearly, keeping her mind focused. She had less than a minute to teach Cheryl Davenport how to speak to a sociopath and every second counted. "Let him know that he's in control. Let him guide the conversation."

"40."

"Use your sister's name. Say, 'My sister Trish' or 'Her name is Patricia,'" she said as Cheryl settled into the seat her father once resided in. Now, he stood behind his daughter, wringing his hands nervously as Cheryl listened to Caroline intently, nodding to everything she said.

"35 seconds."

Cheryl nodded as she continued, ignoring the unsub' clock, "Talk about her. Let him get to know her through you. Don't veer off topic."

"Got it," Cheryl murmured weakly, suddenly staring down at the phone like it was going to attack her.

"25 seconds."

"Also, agree with him. Tell him that you understand him, and as hard as this sounds, empathize."

"20 seconds."

"Let him know that he didn't mean to hurt Trish or go this far and that he can fix it. He has a chance to show that he's a kind and forgiving person by letting your sister go."

"10 seconds."

Cheryl's doe-eyes focused on her, wide and frightened. She could see the cracks coming through, the fear. Her sister's life was now riding on her back. She was alone and completely lost.

Caroline rested her hand over Cheryl's gently, giving her an assuring smile, "And if you don't know what to say, I'll tell you."

"3—"

Caroline glanced over at Cheryl as she reached over and her finger hovered over the unmute button. She swallowed.

"2—"

Cheryl turned to Caroline and nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

"1—"

Caroline hit the button and the room was suddenly deadly quiet except for the ticking of the clock on the the wall. Cheryl scooted closer towards the phone, her hands clasped tightly in her lap to keep from shaking.

"This is Cheryl," she said, her voice suprisingly even. She looked to Caroline for confirmation and the young agent smiled and nodded her head encouragingly.

"Hello, Cheryl," the unsub's voice breathed through the phone. "How are you?"

The girl's eyebrow shot up in confusion, but didn't fall for the bait. "I'd be a lot better if I knew that my sister...Patricia's ok."

The unsub chuckled lightly, as if he were having a normal conversation, "I can tell you have a lot of empathy, Cheryl. You care about others."

"Yes, I do. And it sounds like you understand."

Caroline nodded. She was doing well.

"You mean I empathize?" the unsub drawled out 'empathize' making it sound more awkward and foreign.

Cheryl frowned. "Yes."

"I do. Very much. I empathize. I empathize with you, Cheryl. I know you want to be with your sister."

Caroline reached over and grabbed a sharpie and a yellow pad of notebook paper, scrawling a message over the lined paper. She presented it to Cheryl when she was finished and she glanced over it, nodding. It read: You want Trish back.

"Yes, I want Trish back," Cheryl said, her voice becoming more prominent and strong.

"Good. Tell me what you want , Cheryl. I'm very interested," the unsub taunted. "I'm very interested. Tell me all about yourself. What's your favorite color?"

Caroline leaned over and muted the conversation. "Don't answer that. Stay with Trish."

Cheryl nodded and she hit the button again.

"If I tell you, will you let me talk to my sister?" Cheryl asked.

The unsub chucked, "Maybe. Maybe not."

The blonde girl took a deep breath and Caroline could see the tears in the corners of her eyes. "I like blue."

"How ordinary," the unsub remarked. "Do you like chocolate, Cheryl?" Cheryl glanced over at Caroline, confused at to what to say. "Do...you...like...chocolate?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice weak from trying to hold back tears. Her father rubbed her back encouragingly.

"I do as well."

Cheryl shut her eyes tightly together. "Please, let me talk to my sister."

It went silent on the other end. They all waited for a response, something. But nothing came. Panicked, Cheryl cast Caroline a desperate look and she held up her hand, telling her to wait. She motioned for her to continue talking, to keep prodding the unsub.

"All I want to do is hear her voice," Cheryl begged, her voice becoming shaky as her eyes began to water. Her resolve was breaking. "Please."

There was a soft creak on the other end of the line and everyone leaned forward, listening intently. Cheryl sat up in her chair, her eyes wide as she listened. "Hello?"

There was a moment of silence then a girl's soft voice came over the phone, weak and drowsy, "Cher..."

Caroline let out a small sigh of relief. Trish was alive.

"Trish!" The blonde girl exclaimed.

"Cheryl, is that you?" The other Davenport sister murmured, her heavy breathing marring her words.

"Trish, it's me. I'm here. Are you ok?"

Trish sighed on the other end, "Cheryl, I can't..."

"Where are you? What do you see?"

"I...I see the moon."

Caroline glanced up and shared a look with Hotch, who looked grimly down at the phone. There was no way Trish Davenport was being held outside, there was no way to control the victim. More than likely, Trish has been drugged and was hallucinating.

Then there was the sound of a door creaking open. Cheryl sucked in a breath as there was scuffling and the sound of something hitting the floor.

"Trish!" Cheryl gasped, tears falling down her face as she called for her twin. "Trish!"

Suddenly the voice on the phone wasn't Trish's, but the cold, calculating tone of the unsub.

"Have 500,000 ready," he instructed sharply.

"Let me talk to her!" Cheryl sobbed, her body shaking as she tried to hold back tears. Caroline rested a calming hand on her quivering shoulder.

"$500,000 is what I'm owed," the unsub's voice replied, unrelenting and uncaring. "The Davenports will wait by the phone. You will receive a call with precise instructions in exactly 15 minutes."

There was a sharp click and the line went dead. The unsub hung up.

Cheryl, gasping for air, looked around at the BAU, the look on her face beyond terror. She shot up from her chair and ran off, with her father of her heels.

Gideon glanced over at Reid, still frowning and asked, "Were you able to trace the call?"

Reid slowly pulled off his headphones dejectedly and shook his head. "No. He's probably using a disposable cell phone. They're impossible to trace."

"She said she could see the moon," Caroline murmured out loud as she thought, frowning. "She sounded delirious, sedated."

"Could've been a light," Gideon suggested.

Derek scoffed, "If he's keeping her drugged, it might mean he's not very strong. He might have to keep her weak so he can dominate her."

"Or to keep her quiet," Caroline offered. Derek shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"Has Davenport told us everything about his staff?" Gideon inquired.

"Yeah, we have detailed reports, but we should probably revisit background on household staff, aides and current docket," said Hotch.

It went silent among the agent. Caroline had the feeling they were all thinking the same thing. Her theory was only confirmed when Derek spoke up.

"Guys, she wasn't blindfolded," he mentioned as everyone shared uneasy looks. "That means she's seen his face and as soon as he gets that money..."

Caroline looked up at her teammates and swallowed, "He'll kill her."

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She tried not to be pessimistic, she truly did. But it was hard not to face the facts.

Caroline paced up and down the corridor connecting the kitchen and the living room as her mind swirled with thoughts and images. The only sound there was in the empty hallway was the antique wood creaking as her heels dug into the floor. She tried to think of something else, anything to pass the next 6 minutes, but she couldn't.

The rest of the team had holed up in Mr. Davenport's office to sort the logistics of the ransom and money transfer with Mr. Davenport while she had opted out. She couldn't think about the random drop when so much didn't make sense about the whole situation.

The unsub had been rigid the whole conversation with Mr. Davenport. No emotion, no indications of any kind of interest in speaking to him at all. His only true interest hadn't even been the money, but speaking to Cheryl. She didn't have control over the money, she shouldn't have been facilitating the ransom call.

But she did and it was the most response the unsub had shown the whole phone call. It didn't make sense.

Caroline paused when she heard the scuffle of movement come from the kitchen. She frowned and quietly slipped inside the small kitchen. She saw Cheryl standing at the counter, grasping a large glass of wine as she poured what looked like a very expensive wine inside of it. Caroline shook her head and snuck up behind the girl. Cheryl stared at her as she carefully slipped the wine bottle and glass out of her hand and set it beside the sink, not saying a word.

"Look, I know I shouldn't be drinking, but under the circumstances, you think you could let this one slide?" Cheryl asked Caroline, frowning.

"He's going to call back," she told the blonde girl calmly, despite the girl being highly annoyed. "We need you at your best."

Cheryl sucked in a deep breath, the agitation washing away and being replaced with worry. She bit her lip and glanced up at Caroline.

"Have...have you had many cases like this?"

Caroline gave her a small, knowing smile. "I've seen my fair share of abductions."

"I didn't know how you do it," Cheryl admitted, shaking her head, "this job. How do you stomach it?"

"The men I hunt down are cowards," Caroline told her. "For the most part, they target the weakest members of society, women and children. There's nothing I'd rather do more than but the bastards away."

Cheryl frowned, "I just wish you could get them before they snatch someone."

"Trish is alive," Caroline told her. "You've trusted your feelings this far. Hold on to that."

Cheryl looked up at her and she could see the deep, terrified desperation in her eyes. Caroline could remember feeling that six years ago all to well. She had been separated from her family, her lifeline. When He wasn't with her, taking advantage of her and every part of the situation she was forced in, Caroline was terrified. Her worst fear was that He was doing the exact same to her little sister or her mother.

It's the fact that she didn't know, or she couldn't stop it, killed her. It was what caused the desperation that drove her mad.

Still to this day, whenever she was on a case, she couldn't help but check where her family members were. She understood where Cheryl came from.

She truly wished she could stop the criminals before they committed their crime.

Then again, she wished for a lot of things.

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Exactly 15 minutes later, the unsub called again and gave his precise instructions. It was mostly basic, with the only exception being that everything had to be done by Cheryl. Cheryl had to gather the money packets. Cheryl had to make the drop, no wires and no look-a-likes or Trish would die. Cheryl had to be alone in her car, no one could follow her and no surveillance was allowed. The unsub would only give directions to Cheryl over the phone as she drives and she must make the drop at exactly 3:00 A.M.

All the small, minute details he named off revolved around Cheryl. His whole focus seemed to be more about getting her isolated than receiving the money.

And it bothered Caroline to no end.

She stood silently in the foyer, watching the antique clock as the hour hand passed 3 A.M. Morgan and Hotch left an hour ago to trail Cheryl, checking to make sure she would be in no danger. She hasn't gotten an update call and she began to feel anxious.

Something wasn't right about the whole random drop. She felt the aching suspicion but she couldn't place it.

Suddenly, the front door opened and Derek barged into the Davenport house with Hotch trailing behind him with Cheryl, who looked as pale as a sheet. But there was no Trish.

Mr. Davenport sat up and walked over to the group with a confused look on his face. Caroline took one look at Derek's and knew something went horribly wrong.

"Where is Trish?" Mr. Davenport demanded, glancing back at his other daughter, concerned. "What happened?"

"It wasn't a ransom drop," Derek explain through gritted teeth. "It was an attempted second kidnapping."

Everyone's eyes widened. Mr. Davenport rushed to his daughter and pulled her in a hug, holding her close to him as if he let go she would be gone.

Caroline bit her lip as everyone entered the foyer. She knew something had been off about the whole situation...

Then, the phone rang. Everyone froze.

Derek, who happens to be closest to the phone, held up a hand as he reached to answer the call, signaling the room to be silent. The room gathered around the phone as Derek hit the button and no one dared to say as they waited to hear what the unsub had to say.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" The unsub said, sounding out of breath. "A little running around, getting our pulses racing. Are you there, Cheryl?" Caroline immediately held up a hand to the blonde girl and shook her head, warning her not to answer. Cheryl nodded in response. "Are you there?!"

"Tell me you didn't feel a slight tingle, a thrill run up you spine," he breathed, his voice becoming chill and breathy as if he was pressing his mouth directly against the receiver on the phone. "Huh? But those clever and cunning FBI agents deduced my little plane just in time—they figured it out. If they hadn't, I would have had you both." He sighed, almost sounding disappointed. "The whole pair. The matching set."

"Why are you doing this?" Cheryl demanded, no longer sounding weak and scared. She was angry and very determined. Caroline gave her a warning glance. She couldn't encourage him right now, especially if they were to figure out what he wanted.

"Because you asked me to, Cheryl," the unsub said. "You asked me to with your glances. The way you talk...those little gestures—"

Derek reached over and hit the mute button. Cheryl turned on him, her eyes wide and furious.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

All Derek replied with was, "Do not answer him."

"You asked for this, Cheryl! You asked for it!"

Caroline saw the change in her eyes before Cheryl moved. The small, quiet fear boiled into hard fast determination that made her blue eyes look almost dangerous. Before she could stop her, Cheryl pushed Derek's hand off the mute button, against his protests, and positioned herself over the phone.

"What do you want?" She yelled into the phone, almost quivering with anger.

"What do I want?! You!" The unsub snapped at Cheryl, his voice becoming sharp. "It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow, but I promise you, we will be together."

And just as soon as he called, the unsub hung up and the phone static of the dead line filled the void of silence now present in the room. Cheryl, no longer determined, sank down in the chair behind her and put her head in her hands, her shoulders dropping over the rest of her body.

Caroline stared down at the phone with nothing she could possibly say. How could they have missed it? The unsub's demand to speak to Cheryl, his unnerving need to know simple facts about her...he was obsessed. And, judging by what the unsub said about Cheryl asking him with her "glances", he's been watching the Davenport twins for a long, long time.

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"This is a crime of obsession. Your speciality, your lead, Morgan," Hotch said to Derek as the rest of the BAU (with the exception of Reid waiting in the living room with Mr. Davenport and Cheryl) gathered in the Davenports' red marble kitchen, waiting for a plan in order to proceed with the investigation. Beside Caroline, she noticed Gideon was silently peeling an orange, tearing at its smooth skin with a small serrated knife he had borrowed from utensils drawer. The smell of fresh citrus wafted into the kitchen.

Morgan's mind immediately focused on the task at hand. "I think we should recheck everyone on Davenport's staff against the profile of a stalker."

"Aren't stalking behaviors pretty diverse?" Elle asked him.

"There's overlap," he admitted. "Narcissistic, inflated sense of self-worth, history of bad relationships—"

Elle sighed, "Okay, so what do we know so far?"

"He's probably white, obviously male with sophisticated speech patterns."

"Sophisticated, yet bizarre," Gideon spoke up in middle of cutting the newly-peeled orange into slices. "He rarely uses contractions. It's not you're, it's you are."

Caroline frowned, biting her lower lip in thought. "Okay so he's pretentious. He wants to sound smarter than he actually is. Whatever position of authority or level of success this has, he had to struggle for it."

Hitch glanced behind him as if he was double checking for anyone overheating him as he leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper. "We may also have to face the possibility that—"

"That Trish may already be dead," Elle finished as she reached for an orange slice. Gideon placed on in her palm as he began disbursing out the food to the five agents in the kitchen. Caroline took the citrus slice gratefully, biting into the juicy fruit slowly, savoring it. She hadn't eaten all day and it wasn't until she had something to eat that she realized how starved she actually was.

Derek took an aggressive bite out of his orange slice, his gums smacking as he chomped. "You know, this guy has called every play so far. I say we apply some pressure, make him sweat."

Gideon nodded, "Well, there's only one way to do that."

a/n: hello lovelies! this is lowkey a filler chapter yIKes but I hope you enjoyed it anyways! let me know your thoughts and I hope you guys have had a great start to 2018!

don't forget to comment and vote!