╭──╯ . . . . . VIOLENT DELIGHTS ܴೈ

✧.* ONEERTAXEA . . . . . ╰──╮

march 14th, 2010

"do you think it was marshal kassmeyer's fault that agent hotchner's family's identity was compromised?" strauss asks, her voice crisp and pointed, each word like a jab meant to unsettle me. "absolutely not." i reply instantly, the firmness in my voice surprising even me. how could she even suggest that? my fingers curl slightly in my lap, nails pressing into my palms as I fight to keep my expression neutral. "you answered that very quickly." she remarks, her tone loaded with skepticism.

i take a breath, forcing myself not to roll my eyes. "when you're being tortured, there's no end in sight except giving them what they want." i say evenly, though my stomach twists at the memory of those dark days overseas. the helplessness, the pain—it all comes rushing back, but i shove it aside. this isn't about me. "and kassmeyer didn't do that?" strauss presses, leaning forward as if daring me to flinch.

"no," i say, sharper this time. "he withstood everything foyet threw at him. he didn't break." i glance at her, wondering if she'll ever understand what that kind of resilience takes. probably not. people like strauss don't understand the sacrifices, the pain we endure for the job. they sit in their pristine offices, dissecting our decisions without ever standing in the fire themselves.

"then tell me exactly what happened after the paramedics arrived." she sighs, the weariness in her voice grating against my nerves. i meet her gaze, my frustration simmering just below the surface. she doesn't get it. none of them do. the board members sit there, looking bored and impatient like this is some routine briefing instead of the raw truth of what we went through.

"the paramedics stabilized kassmeyer as best they could," i begin, my voice steady, though my hands tighten into fists beneath the table. "his injuries were brutal—fingers gone, head bleeding, barely conscious. foyet wasn't just trying to extract information. this was personal. he wanted to break him, to send a message to agent hotchner and the rest of us."

i hesitate, glancing at strauss, her expression as cold and calculating as ever. i hate this. i hate that she's dissecting every word, twisting everything we've been through into something clinical, something detached. "what kind of message?" strauss asks, her voice cutting through my thoughts.

"that no one is safe. that he's always one step ahead," i reply, my voice hardening. "but kassmeyer didn't give up jack or haley. he held on as long as he could." i pause, the words hanging in the air.

february 24th, 2010

hotch jumps into the ambulance with kassmeyer, his jaw tight and his eyes set with a determination that feels almost unbreakable. as the ambulance speeds off, sirens blaring, the rest of us stay behind at kassmeyer's home, combing through the wreckage foyet left behind. the air is tense, each of us moving with purpose but weighed down by the knowledge that foyet is still out there, playing his twisted game.

about twenty minutes later, we're still working alongside the local pd, but the search feels like grasping at shadows. then, morgan's phone rings, breaking the silence. "guys, over here." he says, waving us over as he answers and puts it on speaker. "foyet called haley from sam's phone." hotch's voice comes through, sharp and breathless, the strain unmistakable. my chest tightens. i can't imagine what hotch must be feeling right now, knowing foyet has reached haley. "okay, we'll get garcia to trace it." morgan says, motioning for jj to get penelope on the line.

"he told her she was compromised... and that i was dead." hotch continues, his words laced with frustration and barely contained fury. i exhale sharply, the weight of the situation pressing down like a vice. "have you called her?" emily asks. "no. he told her to throw her phone away and to buy a disposable one." hotch replies. "hotch, we're coming to you. hang tight." morgan says firmly. "no," hotch cuts in, his voice resolute. "anderson's bringing me a car." "you want to meet back at the office?" rossi asks.

"i'm hoping she'll call me to check." hotch says. "foyet posed as a marshal," morgan says, the anger clear in his voice. "even from a number haley recognized." "and then he did what gets him off—he scared her." rossi adds, his tone grim. "no," i interject, the words coming out before i can stop them. "he paralyzed her. he overwhelmed her. he told her the one thing that would break her completely, and now she trusts him." the memory of my own loss flashes through my mind—matthew, and the way the news had shattered me.

"where do you think he'd take her?" reid asks, pulling me back to the present. "witness protection had her living in jersey." emily says, the urgency rising in her voice. "he has a head start. he could be taking her there right now." reid adds. jj strides back into the room, her phone pressed to her ear. "garcia's got a trace." she says, putting the call on speaker. "talk to me, garcia." morgan urges. "foyet's bouncing off a few towers in fairfax county," garcia explains, her voice clipped but steady. "he's still local to virginia. i'm sending the coordinates now."

as my phone pings with the location, my stomach drops. something feels wrong. "wait—that phone's still on?" i ask, my voice tight. "yeah." garcia confirms. "hotch?" i call out, dread curling in my gut. "please don't be doing what i think you're doing." "he hung up." garcia says, her tone matching my unease. "shit." i mutter under my breath. a faint beeping follows on garcia's end, and she speaks again, her voice now tinged with alarm. "hotch is calling foyet."

the room falls silent for a beat, and my heart sinks. no backup, no plan—just pure anger driving him straight into foyet's trap. "patch us in." morgan says quickly. the line crackles, and then foyet's voice slithers through. "you know what i've been thinking?" he muses, his tone mocking. "haley looks good with dark hair. she's lost some weight too—must be all the stress you put her through. where's the little man? oh! there he is. does he like captain america because of you?"

my blood runs cold as foyet's words cut through the air like knives. he's taunting hotch, dangling his family in front of him like bait. then, through the line, a phone rings. "that's your wife. hold, please." foyet says casually, and we hear the click as he switches calls. "ms. hotchner?" foyet's voice takes on a chilling, fake politeness. "i'm here." haley's voice comes through, faint and static-filled, but it's enough to make my breath catch. "open the gate, and i'll drive in." foyet says, his tone almost conversational. "okay." haley replies, her voice trembling. a second later, the line goes dead.

"aaron," foyet's voice comes back, colder now, almost gleeful. "i really gotta go." the call disconnects, and garcia sighs softly. "he's gone. signal's gone. he's a ghost again." foyet has haley and jack. hotch is running headfirst into a confrontation with nothing but his rage and desperation. we're all standing here, helpless to stop it. and the worst part? foyet knows he has the upper hand.

_______________︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶_______________

author's note

sorry this one is so short, in the process of getting back home after the holidays ! 

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