ABLOCATE ▇▇▇▇ VOLUME TWO
━━ ❛ 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒅 ❜

chapter no. 049!

❪ 𝚃𝚆 ⠀ : ⠀ 𝚂𝚄𝙸𝙲𝙸𝙳𝙰𝙻 𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽,
𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝚄𝚁𝙳𝙴𝚁 & 𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙴. ❫

❝ IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME. ❞
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

﹙ JUNE 18TH, 2016 ﹚

     CARA VALENTINE WAS ANGRY. That much was for certain. Cara Valentine was angry, and that was okay. It beat the inescapable fear that encompassed her every time she closed her eyes. It beat the night terrors and what she had lived in for two years. That didn't mean she liked it, though. In fact, she hated it; she hated being mad at herself, but she couldn't help it.

     She was angry at herself for allowing what happened to her to affect how she interacted with the team. She was angry at herself for the night terrors. She was angry at herself for hurting hospital personnel, even though she couldn't prevent it or recall the incidents. She was angry at herself for harming herself. She was angry at herself for constantly having to remind herself that she was safe and needed Hotch present to believe anything anyone told her. She was angry at herself for latching onto Hotch in the first place because she'd inadvertently placed the responsibility for her well-being and sanity in his hands. She was angry at herself for being so timid and on edge around the team that she once considered the closest thing she had to a family of sorts. She never acknowledged that, though.

     She was angry at herself for ever walking into her apartment that night. She was angry at herself for choosing to walk straight into the arms of the Founding Fathers in the name of love. It was stupid, but she wouldn't take it back. She was just angry that she ever had to choose in the first place.

     She was angry at herself for not being able to talk without stuttering, pausing, or losing her voice. She was angry at herself for not being able to eat solid foods. She was angry at herself for not being able to color with Hotch. She was angry at herself for not having the strength to walk on both feet. She was angry at herself for how powerless, hopeless, skeptical, paranoid, and fearful she'd become. And she was angry at herself for asking to see her ex-boyfriend.

     Then there were things she was angry at that didn't include herself.

     She was angry at the Founding Fathers. She was angry at Michael Le. She was angry at Konaam Shirzad. She was angry at Matthew Johnston. She was angry at Hennessy Lu. She was angry at Stephen Leone. She was angry at everything that happened. She was angry at D. Inaya for wanting to put restraints on her, despite her understanding of why. She was angry at the other nurses and orderlies for sedating her, despite her understanding of why. She was angry at Nurse Natalie and that stupid smile she always gave her.

     She was angry—

     Cara took a deep breath, stopping her train of thought. Closing her eyes, she refocused her attention on the silence encompassing the room. Only the heart monitor interrupted the peace every other second, but she was okay with that.

     Suddenly, the door to her room opened and she jumped. When she saw that it was only JJ, she mentally scolded herself. The tension in her muscles remained.

     "Sánchez should be here in a few minutes," JJ informed her, voice low. "Do you still want to see him? You can change your mind if you want." A single nod answered her.

     It was still for a moment.

     "How are you feeling about seeing him?" JJ asked, unsure if she'd get a response or not.

     Shrugging, Cara cleared her throat, wincing at the action. "Nervous," she admitted.

     "It's been a long time," the blonde commented, making her way over to the edge of the bed. Gesturing between herself and the sheets, she raised a brow. Cara nodded, confirming that she could sit there. "As far as I know, the two of you aren't on the best of terms."

     "W-We haven't been for almost a d-decade," Cara reached for the drink on the bedside table, bringing the straw to her lips.

     JJ sat down, smoothing out the palms of her hand against her jeans and crossing her feet. She made sure she didn't knock over the blue stuffed cat Penelope had gifted Cara. It was positioned at the end of the bed next to her.

     Cara's eyebrows pinched together, noticing the nervous mannerism. "Why are y-you nervous?" she took a gulp of water.

     The question mildly startled JJ, for she hadn't expected Cara to pick up on her emotional state. Usually, she was quite good at masking what she was feeling.

     "You're d-displaying signs," Cara let out a soft sigh, feeling a little winded, "signs of anxiety. Why?"

     Blinking, JJ did her best to recover from the question. "Truthfully, I'm worried about you seeing Sánchez," she said, tilting her head to the side. "Are you sure?"

     "Yes." Cara didn't hesitate in answering.

     "Just so you know, we'll all be standing outside with Dr. Inaya, Captain Marvinhill, and security if you need us. I know Hotch and Rossi will be in here, but..." JJ could feel her motherly instincts inching forward, but she reeled them back. "We'll be there."

     There was a small tug on the corner of Cara's lip. "Thank you," she gave the woman a brief, minuscule half-smile. The sight of it caught JJ off-guard, her eyes widening. Before she could verbally react, the door opened.

     Natalie stood in the doorway with a warm smile. "Agent Jareau, you're needed down the hall," she announced, waving politely at Cara. "Ms. Valentine, I'm about to bring your morning medications."

     Cara gave her an unenthusiastic thumbs up, staring ahead blandly.

     "I'll see you later, yeah?" JJ checked, standing up. A soft hum was the only reply she got.

     Exchanging nods, JJ and Natalie passed by the other, each headed in different directions.

     The entire floor had been cleared, similar to last month when Cara had first arrived. Today's event required privacy and secrecy. The location of the recovered woman couldn't be compromised. Not when her life was on the line. If the Founding Fathers found and took her again, who was to say that they wouldn't finish her off permanently this time?

     Approaching the cluster of people in the waiting room, she took note of four Surrey police officers and Captain Marvinhill. Their backup arrived. This meeting really was happening.

     "What's the ETA?" JJ asked, coming to a stop beside Marvinhill.

     "Now," Hotch said, peering up from the text he received.

     Spencer's jaw tightened. "Great," he grumbled.

     "Reid," the Unit Chief called. He waited until the doctor met his look of warning. "Play nice with Sánchez. That applies to everyone."

     Those eight words were an implicit message to Rossi, and the man knew it. A scowl crossed his lips. "Aaron—"

     "The prodigal trafficker is here," Morgan jutted his chin to the right, interrupting the conversation.

     All heads turned to see five guards surrounding Owen Sánchez. Compared to the last time many of them saw him, he looked drastically different.

     There were deep and dark circles resting under his eyes, painting the image that he likely hadn't slept in a while. His dark-brown hair was in unruly curls and had grown out to his shoulders. Stubble decorated the skin around his jaw and he adorned a mustache. The orange jumpsuit he was wearing when Hotch, Rossi, and Blake visited him was gone. Instead, he wore jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt with his wrists cuffed together in front of him.

     "Isn't he a sight for sore eyes," Tara muttered.

     Rossi couldn't help but chuckle, bypassing the glare Hotch gave him. The distaste he had for Owen Sánchez ran deep.

     "Officers, let's head to the room," Marvinhill said, addressing the Surrey police officers. The four men nodded, following his lead.

     The closer Owen got, the more uneasy the team felt. This whole situation felt surreal and simultaneously like a bad idea. No one still knew why Cara wanted to see her ex-boyfriend in the first place, but if she was adamant about it, then so be it. Perhaps this could prove beneficial... perhaps.

     Eventually, the two parties met in the middle of the hallway.

     "Sánchez," Hotch greeted plainly, observing the ex-traffickers body language. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and there were no physical signs of stress or anxiety. The guards around him shifted positions, allowing him to walk forward a few feet.

     Owen gave the dark-haired man a curt nod. "Agent Hotchner." His eyes wandered to Rossi and he held back a smirk. "Hey, Grandpa. How's the hearing?"

     Rossi shot him a sarcastic smile. "Fuckhead."

     JJ and Penelope were quickly taken back by the nickname.

     "So, Cara..." he glanced between the pair, wanting to get down to business. He was disregarding the rest of the team's presence. Those agents weren't important to him. "Where is she?"

     "Before you see her, there are some boundaries that need to be put in place," Hotch disclosed.

     "Let me guess," Owen sighed dramatically. "I can't touch her without her initiating it; I can't raise my voice, make any loud noises or sudden movements, and I can't mention anything about the Red Scorpions or Founding Fathers unless she mentions it first."

     Spencer narrowed his eyes into slits, opening his mouth to say something, but Rossi beat him to it.

     "How do you know that?"

     "You're forgetting who was there to help Cara pick up the pieces when Le was abusing her all those years ago."

     An uneasy force settled between the two; silence filled the air. It was evident to the team and security officers that the men did not like one another very much. Nobody could pinpoint why exactly, though.

     "Rossi and I will be in the room with you the entire time," Hotch said, causing the ex-trafficker to direct his attention back to him. "If we deem that the conversation could be harmful to Cara in any capacity, you will be escorted out. If you cross any boundaries, you will be escorted out. If she wants you gone, you will be escorted out. No exceptions. Is that clear?"

     Owen pressed his lips together. "Crystal."

     That singular word made Hotch's ears perk. Interesting. "Crystal" was Cara's traditional response whenever he asked her the same question. He quickly discarded that thought.

     "The handcuffs will stay on the entire time, too," Rossi added. "So, don't get any ideas."

     A soft chuckle echoed from his lips and Owen's brows flickered upward. "Trust me—"

     "No."

────

     THE STAREDOWN TAKING PLACE BETWEEN CARA VALENTINE AND THE BLUE STUFFED CAT AT THE EDGE OF THE BED WAS GETTING INTENSE. Five minutes and fifteen seconds of no blinking had passed by until Cara caved, blinking rapidly. "Fuck you," she hissed, flipping the inanimate object off. Boredom had resulted in the saddest form of entertainment— interacting with a stuffed animal and verbally communicating with it. If that could even be considered entertainment.

     Cara Valentine was not entertained.

     Wandering her eyes around the room she'd memorized every inch of, she pressed the pad of her thumb into her wrist. If Owen could just show up now, that'd be great. The small puddle of courage she had would only last so long before she became a coward and kept her mouth shut. She needed to talk to someone.

     An exasperated sigh tumbled from her lips and her line of sight landed on the new flowers she'd woken up to. Penelope had been in earlier that morning when the blonde was asleep. There were six vases of flowers set up around the room and the flowers had been replaced with fresh ones. New balloons decorated the room and a blue stuffed toy cat had been left on the bed.

     It was comforting, in a sense, to know that the team still cared about her despite everything that happened and how she'd been behaving. It was out of her control, but she still felt guilty occasionally. Not to mention she still felt angry too.

     There was a sudden knock and she glanced to the right. The door cracked open and she could see Hotch checking on her. A single nod was given, signaling she was ready.

     A source of light lit up a portion of the room and Hotch walked in with Owen and Rossi trailing behind. When the ex-partners locked eyes, time seemed to slow down. For Cara, it felt like a fever dream she didn't want to have but needed to. For Owen, it felt like a part of him could finally breathe. Their moment with promptly cut short.

     With a soft click, the door shut and Rossi pulled a chair up to the bed, shoving Owen into it.

     "Easy there, wrinkle-crinkle," the long-haired man growled, shooting daggers at him.

     "Watch your mouth, mop-head," the Italian man warned. He wasn't against hitting the guy upside the head, but Hotch might be.

     Now Cara Valentine was entertained.

     The interaction between the two was enough to alleviate some of the nervousness she felt. The rubbing of the wrist came to a pause.

     Owen settled his attention on the blonde, choosing to ignore the agents and focus on the matter at hand. "Cara..." He sounded breathless when he said her name. "Hey." Slowly, he took in her appearance and the visible injuries she had.

     A splint had been placed along her back and was secured from her torso to her neck. Multiple tubes and IV drips ran under the blankets and her clothes, attached to her body. Both of her arms were wrapped in gauze and white casts. He could barely make them out from under the navy green quarter zip she wore. It was almost swallowing her whole. She'd lost a considerable amount of weight and it showed in her face and build. It was likely due to the capture. He doubted that the Founding Fathers fed her often.

     Cara inhaled sharply. "Hi," she narrowed her stare as the corner of his lips quirked up. "If you say you've m-missed the sound of my voice, I-I swear... I swear to God I'll kick you out."

     "You don't sound so confident in saying that," he retorted, reaching up with cuffed hands to brush some hair out of his face.

     A cold glare was directed at him. "I-I was tortured and lost my... lost my voice," she cleared her throat. "So, I don't want to h-hear it."

     At the mention of her being tortured, Owen's face visibly dropped. The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in. "I'm glad you're safe now."

     "Thanks." Cara held back her true thoughts on the sentiment. She wasn't going to ever be safe until the Founding Fathers were dead.

     "How are you?"

     "About as t-tired as you look."

     In the background, Rossi couldn't help but smirk.

     "I can tell someone hasn't lost her snarkiness," Owen chuckled.

     The sentence brought on a wave of déjà vu and Cara knew what he was referencing. It was the same instance her father had referenced last month when she'd been hallucinating in the basement of Balmoral Tower. It was the last time she and Owen had spoken until today.

     Everyone watched as she tensed up, blanching. Whatever just crossed her mind wasn't pleasant and Hotch was enticed to step forward out of concern.

     "Johnston and Le t-tortured me over you," she blurted, stunning the room to utter silence.

     Prior to today, nobody had a clue as to why Cara wanted to speak with Owen Sánchez. This might be it, though. And prior to today, Cara hadn't shared anything about her capture aside from who she had and hadn't hallucinated about. Anything else she disclosed would be new information.

     "T-They wanted to know what you had t-told me in... in the past," she clarified. "They thought that I-I knew you'd been a m-mole. I was h-honest with them. I-I didn't know a-anything. Besides, you made your bed with t-the gang when you betrayed them."

     Owen blinked. "Okay. Tell me how you really feel."

     "D-Don't be an ass," she muttered, rubbing her wrist.

     "Sorry."

     "N-No, you're not."

     "I'm not."

     The pair shared identical countenances of indifference. It was obvious that they easily got on the others' nerves.

     However, while Cara stared at him, she couldn't help but be reminded of all they'd been through together. They shared part of their life together. Whether they were on good terms or not, they used to know each other. He used to know her. Anything she ever said to him would stay between them and vice versa. To a very small extent, she still trusted him.

     "My father is dead," she stated, unsure if this was news to anyone. It wasn't.

     "So I've heard..." Owen merely glimpsed back at the idiots behind him. That was one sliver of knowledge he'd gained during their latest encounter. "I'm sorry, Lyn. I know how much he meant to you."

     Nodding slowly, she met his sincere gaze again. Immediately, her vision blurred and she wore an expression he was familiar with. It was the same one she had when she was on the verge of a breakdown and about to be vulnerable. In the past, it didn't happen often, but he would always recognize the signs.

     "Something else happened, though..." Owen trailed off, darting his eyes in between hers. "What's on your mind?"

     At his question, Cara blinked back a layer of tears. "I uh," she started, voice cracking. This was a lot harder to admit than she thought it would be. Glancing away, a tear fell down her cheek. She needed to say something. "I k-killed Hennessy."

     The confession stunned everyone and the black-haired man in front of her sat up. In the back, Hotch and Rossi exchanged similar looks. This was major news to them. Hennessy Lu had yet to be found, and now they knew why. He wasn't with Michael Le and the others. He was dead.

     Outside the hospital room, the rest of the team observed as the atmosphere abruptly changed. The tensed postures of Hotch and Rossi and their glances of shock combined with Owen's straightened back indicated just that. Whatever Cara had said had taken them all aback.

     "When?" Owen's voice was void of emotion, but from where she lay, Cara could detect a tone of surprise.

     Shrugging, she sniffed while more tears fell. "I lost... lost track of time. I-I don't know when, but it was after he..." The words got caught in her throat and she cleared it. Pull it together, Cara. "After he slit my father's throat."

     "I'm not going to sit here and act as if he didn't deserve it. Both he and Kirk were pieces of shit, but why? I thought that was your number one principle: you don't kill," the previous trafficker commented, slightly raising a brow.

     In the Red Scorpions, Cara Valentine had been one of the highest-ranking members. She had a cold, heartless, and ruthless reputation. One thing she was known for was that she didn't and wouldn't kill people. Torture? Yes, she would torture people. It was never of her own volition; a gun was held to her head nearly every time. Still, she refused ever to take another person's life, and she was relatively respected for that. Everyone else in the gang was a killer.

     Cara pushed down the lump in her throat, ignoring the burning pain. "I-It was an accident," she confessed. "He... He was taking my clothes off, and I was trying to stop him." The volume of her voice lowered the more she talked. It hurt. "I kicked him, twice, and he slipped in a pool of blood. H-He hit his head on the ground. I-I tried to resuscitate him, but he wouldn't wake up. Johnston found us," she whispered, staring at her wrist and nails. The skin on it was beginning to turn pink and her nails were still blue. This was still real.

     "And I'm assuming he lost his shit," Owen deduced, very much so aware of Matthew Johnston's unstable temper.

     Cara nodded, frowning. "I-I should hate him, you know?" she murmured, biting the inside of her cheek. Her voice was low enough to the point where she couldn't hear the words leaving her. "Hennessy," she clarified, speaking a bit louder. "He was family to an extent. H-He was the only person my father ever loved aside from me, which meant I-I grew up loving him too." Her statement caused Rossi to frown, darting his stare to Hotch.

     Inhaling, Owen shifted in the chair.

     "How does... How does someone go from loving another person to being more than w-willing to murder them in cold blood? I know betrayal and a broken heart run deep. I've felt it," she pressed the pad of her thumb into her wrist further. "I feel that hurt. I have lived with it for over half my life. I-I know how dark things can be. Never though, have I... reached a point... where I was c-capable of carrying out murder. Let alone l-laying a hand on or r-raping the child of that person I loved. For a while, I-I've been trying so hard to make sense of it because if I do, t-then maybe... I-I don't know."

     Leaning her head back as far as the splint would let her, she tried to gather herself. There were things she needed to get off her chest and Owen was the only person she felt comfortable enough with to tell. He would never judge and she needed someone who wouldn't judge her because of what she went through. If she had it her way, Hotch and Rossi wouldn't be in the room, but she knew they had to be for safety.

     Owen allowed a frown to show. He could tell that Cara was struggling to compose herself and say what she wanted to. The pain of trying was etched all over her.

     "You're doing good, Lyn..." he whispered, but she couldn't fully hear him. The right side of her body was closest to him and he wasn't aware of the fact that she couldn't hear in her right ear anymore.

     "You're the one p-person I've ever loved whose betrayal and l-lies destroyed me and led me down a d-dark path," Cara started again, pointing a finger at him. "I-I stopped myself from experiencing emotions or happiness... I stopped getting close to people. I-I stopped everything."

     Owen's frown deepened. All right. They were going there today.

     "A-All I could focus on was that hurt, and I-I channeled it into my work for the Scorpions. And when I did feel something... it was all at once, a-and these waves would wash over, drowning me, a-again and again. There were no breaks in between, and I was trapped u-until I was arrested, and some doctor t-took pity on me and got the F.B.I. to s-somehow offer me a deal."

     At the mention of Spencer Reid, the three men glanced out the windows.

     Upon noticing their stares, Spencer stood a bit taller. The other team members turned their attention to him, too. Evidently, he'd been mentioned in the conversation. It wasn't clear if that was a good or bad thing.

     Bringing his focus back to Cara, Spencer saw that she was the only one not looking at him. Instead, she was staring at her nails. She was trying to ground herself, which meant her anxiety was high and she was struggling to be present.

     "I was free," Cara said gently, mentally replaying moments of brief peace or happiness she felt all those years ago. "Until I wasn't." All attention returned to her. "They found me and I-I was trapped again. I lost everything. I'm s-still trapped. T-They took everything."

     "Not everything. I can't believe I'm saying this, but you still have the BAU—"

     "No, I l-lost everything," she sharply cut Owen off. "I lost everything. I-I lost the only family I h-had left."

     The Founding Fathers took everything from Cara Valentine.

     They took her life, her home, her friends, her father, her autonomy, her body, her hearing, her mind, her sanity, her soul, her strength, her courage, her hope, her sense of safety, her freedom, and her mentality on life. They took everything, and nobody would ever truly understand what she meant by that. She was alone in her experiences and that terrified her. She'd rather be dead than have to live with what happened, not only with herself but with her father, and know that the Founding Fathers were still out there. Le said they would reunite when the time was right.

     All was silent and no one dared to make a move. Everyone had to be patient with her and they knew that.

     Two minutes passed by before any sound was made.

     Cara swallowed harshly. "I-I know death is irreversible," she spoke solemnly. "I-I know we can't change it, but I wish... Hennessy had just killed m-me... instead of my father."

     "Lyn—"

     "Every time I close my eyes, I see his body." That was the first sentence she'd spoken where she hadn't hesitated, stumbled, or paused. She'd said it with complete confidence. The words were true. Owen's mouth shut. "I see his eyes staring right into mine while he lies on the ground, unmoving. And when I re-open my eyes, the image doesn't go away. I-I hallucinate s-seeing his blood on me. Then, everywhere I look, s-something reminds me of him and I just—" Cara's voice broke off, and her chest heaved up and down. "I-It feels like a piece of me was cut out... and all I'm l-left with is this internal bleeding and a sea of m-memories that won't stop. They won't shut up. And I need them to. I-I need quiet."

     This was the first time Cara Valentine had fully opened up to everyone in the room. It was the first time they had seen her this vulnerable and honest. And it was heartbreaking. Not even Owen Sánchez had heard the blonde so broken down and destroyed.

     "It should have been m-me," she whimpered, tears blurring her vision again. "It should have been me." Cara squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head back against the pillows. The lump rose higher in her throat, and she could feel it clogging her airways. She pulled her legs to her chest, embracing herself in an attempt to self-soothe.

     Beside her, tears of his own were coming to the surface. "If the choice were his, Ross would have sacrificed himself for you over and over again without hesitation. He loved you with everything he had," Owen said. To hear the woman he loved saying she wished she had been killed shattered his heart and produced a sick sensation in his chest.

     "You know what h-hurts most? Not the fact that... that it should have been me, but that if I were to go back, I-I'd still make the same decision. I'd still lie, and he'd still die."

     A resounding quiet filled the room and Hotch stood up straighter. Flashes of the DVD played in his mind. Cara had lied to protect Spencer and their relationship; to protect the trust she had in him. In her efforts to protect him though, her father became a casualty.

     "And he would understand why," Owen stressed, aware that she likely wouldn't believe his opinion. Regardless, he wanted her to know. "He knew just as well as I do that you only lie when necessary. Especially when it comes to Le."

     Cara pressed her lips together, trying to keep it together as best she could. Everything ached, and she couldn't stop shaking.

     A memory suddenly came to mind and the ex-trafficker cleared his throat. "Do you remember the buy you, Ingram, and I did at Kiaro's on Gorge Street?"

     Immediately, she shook her head. "Owen, please," she mumbled, feeling tears fall down her face.

     "Ingram and I didn't want to go. The guy we were meeting had a bad rap. He'd been accused and caught doing some disgusting things. We wanted out, but lo and behold, in came you. I can remember clear as day you cussing us out and stating that you would go alone if we were going to act like pussies. So, we sucked it up and went. You wouldn't let us talk throughout the entire thing. You took control of the situation and ended up getting more products from the dealer than arranged. We were impressed.

     "It was that night I learned to never underestimate you. You're capable of more than you think. You're capable of coping and moving on from what happened. Even if you don't realize it," Owen placed a hand on her knee.

     Instinctually, she shoved it away. "Don't touch me," she whispered, shaking her head.

     If her words hurt him, he didn't show it. "I'm sorry," he was genuine in saying that.

     "Thanks," she muttered, pulling the blankets around the splint and her shoulders.

     Hesitating, Owen mentally rearranged his next few statements. "I owe you a lot of apologizes," he began, catching the blank stare she gave him. "I do."

     "Yeah, you do, but I..." she inhaled deeply, "I, t-truthfully, couldn't care less. A lot... A lot of people owe me an apology, but I don't need o-or want yours. That's not why I wanted to see you."

     Owen's eyebrows furrowed into a jagged line. "Then why did you want to see me?"

     Cara shrugged. "You w-won't judge. You get it," she didn't know any other way to say it. "More than anyone else. N-No offense, Hotch, Rossi," she briefly glimpsed over at the two men.

     "None taken," Rossi reassured her. Hotch nodded in agreement.

     "You and I," she gestured between her and her ex-boyfriend, "we haven't seen eye to eye in almost a decade. T-That's on you, and I used to harbor a lot of resentment. I don't anymore. I-It's not worth the tiniest bit of sanity I have left."

     A smirk lined Owen's lips. "Did you have much sanity in the first place?"

     Her eyes narrowed into slits and she clenched her jaw. Why did he have to make things so excruciatingly difficult?

     "Owen, I will kick your ass out o-of this room."

     "Had to make a joke."

     "Y-You're not funny. Never have been."

     "Ouch."

     "Good." Cara glowered at him, irritated. "W-Why do you have to make every c-conversation so painful?"

     Owen shrugged. "I like annoying you. Call it payback for all the years you were a bitch to me."

     "You deserved it and you know it," she grumbled, wiping away the leftover tears.

     Nodding, he didn't argue with her on that one. They both knew she was right. "I'm sorry," he sighed, running a hand down his face.

     The small apology made Cara meet his soft gaze. By the look in his eyes, she knew he wasn't just apologizing for the comment he made. He was apologizing for everything, but it didn't fix or change things. What happened between them happened and they moved on. She moved on. The apology did, though, heal that part of her heart that'd been broken all those years ago on the night of the Surrey Six. And that meant more than she thought it would.

     "Me too."

𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆   ───   ❪ CRIMINAL MINDS ❫
act two:     𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚂,       ²
╱ ✹     ▬▬     ❛ © CARDIIAC      2023. ❜
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𓄹 ━━━ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓! ࿐ ໋₊ ˖

     hey everyone!! i hope you all enjoyed the forty-ninth chapter!

     this chapter makes me laugh at parts where it shouldn't.

     not going to lie... i'm a little nervous when posting this chapter. i'm not quite sure what everyone's opinion is on owen and his relationship with cara. hopefully, someone enjoyed this!

     personally, i love cara and owen's backstory and their dynamic. it's super different from her relationships with other characters and is super fun to write. i believe you will be seeing owen at least one more time before the book ends!

     lastly, the next chapter is going to be quite short! just wanted to let everyone know beforehand!

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˒⠀𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹. . . ▬⠀⤸

Thank you all for taking the time out of your day to comment on this story. It means a lot and helps the story be spread to a broader audience &&& allows me to grow as an author. All I ask is that people vote on each chapter, please. As a creator, it takes time to write and develop stories. Especially ones such as this that take a while to write and dedicate time to. So please, vote on every chapter. It means a lot more than I could ever express.

Don't forget to vote & comment!

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˒⠀𝑪𝑶𝑷𝒀𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻. . . ▬⠀⤸

❝ All Rights Reserved.
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