Everything whips by me and then April is ending. The whole thing is giving me whiplash. The winter months seem longer than anything I've ever experienced, but now it feels like we are halfway through the spring. I've been here less than six months and only now do things feel like they aren't rushing by me.

Caro has yet to set a wedding date. From what I hear through the grapevine about it, Maman isn't coming. That's been solidified. Caro seems to have cooled down about it. At the very least, she seems put together while we are on the phone and hasn't mentioned Maman once this phone call.

"Okay, we're still looking at venues and dates but we are thinking Spring 2008," she says to me on the phone. "We will send out the invitations in early January so you can mark it on your calendar. Tattoo in on you if you must."

"You're being a bit dramatic," I tell her.

I hope she can't hear that I'm running errands. Caro, being an early childhood educator, is always going on about multi-task being and for memory retention. She's right, but I've been waiting to pick up the books by David Rossi for something like two months. They're hard to come by, I guess nowadays since they are an older print run. I'll remember to remember not to flee the country during her wedding.

"Well, you didn't come to my high school graduation or my engagement party, and you aren't coming to my bachelorette party, so you're going to come to this thing," Caro sighs. "If it helps I'll become a serial killer so you have to come and investigate at the venue. At least you'll be there."

I roll my eyes, adjusting the bag I have with books in it, "I'd love to arrest you. Stéphane can walk you up the aisle and I'll walk you right back down it."

"Also, did your birthday gift come in the mail?" I ask.

I sent her a letter, offering to pay for her and Cletus to go to a couple's spa. Her engagement feels like something that she needs major stress relief from. Only because it's her birthday, I also paid for Cletus to go. I hope he gets stuck in a mud bath or something while they are there. Maybe she'll find a cute and kind boyfriend.

"Yeah," Caro says.

I can tell she's upset we aren't getting together. This time, it isn't me. The plan was to do Stéphane and me in November, when our birthdays are, and to do Caro and Bastien in early June since it's about halfway between their birthdays. Bastien has been sent out for training somewhere I'm not even allowed to know with my clearance. Penelope could find out for me, but I'd rather not abuse Hotch's trust like that.

"Listen," I say, sighing, "we will make November a celebration for all four of us, okay? We can do something in New York, even. Something closer to halfway."

I pull my phone away in anticipation of her squeal. She starts to shriek about all the things she can't wait to do, but that it has to be in September and not November, and I only get her off the phone when she has to make dinner.

When I get back to the flat, Estelle is making food. Again. It's been like this every day for the past week. She got permission from the landlord to bring in a deep freezer, and she's stuffed the thing with meal after meal after meal. I swear, she's made something like thirty portions of stew alone, not to count everything else she has cooked.

"You're acting like you're expecting the apocalypse," I point out.

She sways to the music, only turning to look at me, "a summer without me for you is like the apocalypse."

In less than a week she is leaving me, and she won't be back until the first week of September. Her supervisor has swindled some funding, so she has enough money to tour around looking for primary sources. August she'll spend with family, but the rest of her visit is funded. I'm going to get so many patches from her trip.

Soon enough though, Sunday ends and I'm back in the office. The team hasn't returned yet. We were out for drinks Saturday night when they got the call. Us ladies were having a great conversation with a guy pretending to be a special agent when they all were swooped out. They might have come in last night sometime, but I check in with Penelope.

She's in her office, decorated just as nicely as always. I peek my head inside.

"Any reports you think I should look at?" I ask.

"Unless you know how to narrow a search for hikers lost in the woods, I don't have much," she continues typing.

There is a physical file next to her. I pick it up, flipping through it. People are being hunted in something like two hundred acres of woods out in Washington. They aren't sure who it is yet, nor even if there is only one Unsub. Garcia's digital files are probably more up-to-date.

Still, I call my brother.

Stéphane picks up on the third ring, "hey. Caro wedding blues?"

"Stéphane, you worked out in Washington two years ago, right?" I ask. "Fire lookout stuff?"

Penelope stops clicking the keys on her keyboard. She looks over at me.

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm on a case," I offer. "They're trying to find some people who might be out in the forest. Do you think you could talk to my coworker Penelope? You might have intel that can help us."

"Course," he answers.

I put him on speakerphone. Penelope asks him about experienced and inexperienced hikers, and hunters as well. I don't know how much help he is, but being in a watch tower out there, Stéphane's seen more than most people would expect. He talks about ways people stay warm without making fires during dry season. Once Penelope is done with her questions, she thanks him, and blesses me, before calling someone out in the field.

The rest of the day goes by well, and just before I clock out, Penelope races out of the room with a huge grin.

"You helped narrow the search!" she squeals.

The few other people who work in admin and other areas stare at her. She ignores them, walking over to me. She squeals my shoulders, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"They got two people out," she says. "Two more than they were expecting too, and they have the hunters in custody."

"I'll be sure to thank my brother," I manage even though my lungs feel tight.

She pulls back from me and smiles.

Penelope isn't the only one happy with my discovery. I show up earlier than the others since they often roll in a bit later after flights, which gives me some peace to myself. The succulents from Hotch feel kind of lonely on my desk. So, I add a few things. The mug from Reid, somehow manages to make me smile. The digital photo frame I got from Bastien I put up as well. It rotates through photos of us siblings with a new one every ten minutes.

Morgan pats me on the back when he walks into his spot at the bullpen. I hadn't even noticed him arriving with the others.

"Your brother," Morgan laughs, "you know, I could kiss that man."

"He's single," I smile. "I could put in a good word."

I think Caro would have a conniption if Stéphane showed up to the wedding with a guy. She's already trying to walk Cletus into accepting Bastien's potential dates. Stéphane is straight as far as I know, but if Cletus thought both my brothers were bisexual, he might call off the wedding.

The thought gives me hope.

"Which one is he?" Reid is right behind me, nodding toward my picture frame.

My shoulders tighten. I don't know how he manages to sneak up at me all the time. The photo up is one of us four from November. Caro is on the farthest left, hugging me tightly. Stéphane is next to us, smiling in his charming way. Bastien is laughing so hard he's almost blurry. Even I'm almost smiling.

"Middle one," I point him out. "I'd forgive you for forgetting though. My siblings look like remixes of each other."

Morgan whistles, "man. The Bouchard household is full of gorgeous people."

Reid squats beside the desk, pointing at the photo, "you look like all of them too. Even with the red hair. I'd never think you weren't their sister."

I turn from the photo to him. I'm always told I'm the odd one out. In the way we look, but also in so many other ways. I missed Christmases and birthdays and years and years. Caro and I couldn't be farther from opposite people, and Stéphane and I too. Even Bastien and I operate in such different worlds. I'm told it too. By them, the three who speak French together every time they meet up and they speak English with me alone. By Maman, which is part of the reason we don't talk.

He doesn't see it though, and he's the profiler. If he is the one who is could at reading body language, and knowing people by what isn't said, then maybe he is right.

"Oh my God, you had a pixie cut?" Morgan laughs.

The photo has switched. It's a picture from high school. I put the frame against the desk, trying not to groan. Even though Stéphane did this I can't help but feel like Bastien is responsible.

"Let's get back to work," I roll my eyes.

The chatter doesn't die down though, and I can't help but feel like May is going to whip around me just as much.

~~~~~

Now, this chapter does have a sweet moment, but overall I'm most proud of it because of the casting. I think I picked such a good set of siblings lmao. Like, truly, I can't imagine any of them played by anyone else. What do you think? Could there have been a better fit? Let me know in the comments.

Feedback from you guys really helps motivate me to keep updates on time and consistent. I'd love to know what you are thinking and feeling about anything! It would mean so very much to me.