❝Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me and I will defend it.❞

MARY SHELLEY

✩

1.7 : early morning meetings

OR

season 6, episode 24 : supply and demand

IT'S NOT QUITE FIVE-THIRTY IN THE MORNING, AND FIN IS ANXIOUS FOR BOTH THE SUNRISE AND THE CUP OF COFFEE SHE KNOWS IS WAITING FOR HER AT THE BAU. Hotch called both their phones this morning, despite the fact that Romero's definitely reported back to him that Spencer spends the night quite often, and said that they needed to be at the BAU before six a.m. for a "quick meeting".

Fin wasn't too worried about it, but Spencer was immediately nervous, and when she asked him why, he said that Hotch hardly ever calls early morning meetings, especially on a Friday, and when he does, it's something serious.

So now Fin is nervous, too, and for more reasons than one. Lars emailed her late last night, and it had no subject, no introduction, nothing. It just said: Next week is Nick's birthday. He would've been 29 this year. I really miss him. He always said you and I were the only family he had left in the world. I don't want to spend his birthday in a city I don't know with men in suits that won't talk to me and shitty German reality shows. I want to come home.

Fin knows the only reason Lars was in Munich in the first place was to split them up, keep Esther from taking either one of them hostage, forcing the other's hand. She thought about responding quickly, telling her to stay put, to wait until Esther's back behind bars, but Lars is the type of person who needs to touch the stove before she believes it's hot. If you tell her not to do something, she wants to do it even more.

So Fin plans to talk to Hotch, to see if there's any safe way for Lars to come back to America. She'll probably still have to be in a safe house, with limited contact with the outside world, but at least she'll be closer. At least Fin can see her face.

When Spencer and Fin walk into the conference room, Rossi and Morgan are already sitting at the table, drinking their coffee, but there's no sign of Penelope or Hotch. That's strange, because usually they're the first two in and the last two out.

"Where's Hotch?" asks Spencer, at the same time that Fin asks, "Where's Penelope?"

Morgan glances up at them, eyebrows raised, a tiny grin on his face. "In answer to both of you, they'll both be here soon."

Spencer drops into a chair, an old book magically appearing in his hands. It looks well-loved and cared for, the binding falling open easily in his hands. Fin wonders if maybe it was his mother's.

She makes them both a cup of coffee, careful to add several more sugars to Spencer's mug, and sits down next to him. "Do either of you know what this is about?"

Rossi shrugs. "No idea. We got the same phone call you did. Early morning meeting, be on time, and he'd explain when he gets here."

Fin tugs her sleeves over her hands, blowing carefully on the surface of her coffee. "I wish he'd just tell us, instead of making us wait like this. It's worse this way, not knowing."

Morgan nods his agreement. He's been a little off ever since last week, when they had a case in Florida and he suspected his cousin might be one of the victims, having been missing for seven years. It was hard for him to lie to his aunt and tell her that Cindi was killed, but in all likelihood, Cindi is dead somewhere, a Jane Doe in a dumpster or a ditch or buried somewhere unknown, and Fin believes everyone deserves closure. Morgan did the right thing. And he'll be okay.

The door to the conference room opens again and Penelope walks in, clad in a pretty floral dress, a pink cardigan, and holding her favorite Love is Mixtapes mug. "Where's Hotch?" she asks, her voice anxious, glancing around the table.

"Any minute," Rossi replies absentmindedly, now scrolling through something on his tablet.

"I-I didn't get a file sent to me," Penelope says, sitting down between Rossi and Fin. "Did a case go directly to him?"

"Don't know." Rossi is the king of ambiguity, and it's not doing anything for either Fin's or Penelope's anxiety levels, but she knows he's just as nervous deep down.

"I can't remember the last time Hotch called a meeting this early," Penelope mutters, reaching down and pulling her laptop and phone out of her bag.

"Three years, eight months ago," Spencer replies softly, closing his book. The look on his face is one Fin knows well: worry from experience.

"What happened, Spence?" she asks, nudging his leg with hers beneath the table.

"Gideon left."

Penelope inhales sharply. "Who's leaving?"

"Nobody's leaving," Morgan replies calmly, his eyes immediately finding Fin, giving her a questioning, probing look.

And then she realizes: What if Hotch is calling a meeting to tell the team about Esther? To tell them everything, the way she asked him not to?

She's not ready.

She wants to take Lars' advice, but what happened to Emily is too fresh, and she doesn't want to interrupt their grieving. She can't do it now.

"I appreciate everyone coming in early." Hotch walks through the door, staring at his phone, and Fin starts in her seat. Spencer places a hand on her thigh immediately, probably out of habit, and squeezes gently, comfortingly. It works.

"What's going on?" asks Rossi, somehow keeping his face a mask of calm.

Hotch sits down next to him, pausing a moment, clearly formulating his thoughts, and then says, "The director called a meeting last night to discuss budgets."

Fin resists the urge to sigh in relief. It's not about her.

"They skipped over Strauss?" Rossi frowns.

"She's away." Hotch pauses again, and Fin notices he's slightly uncomfortable. Maybe even nervous. "The Bureau is facing a lot of changes and this unit is no exception. Over the next few weeks, each of you is going to be asked if you'd like to stay with the unit."

"Why wouldn't we?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"There are other options for you out there," Hotch replies. "And while I want the unit to stay together, I understand completely if you want to see what the alternatives are. Morgan, there's renewed interest in you from the New York office."

Morgan shakes his head. "Nobody's called me."

"They will."

"That doesn't mean I'm gonna go."

"Oh, I know." A tiny flicker of a smile crosses Hotch's face. He looks almost relieved for a brief moment. "All I ask is if you are contacted by another division, that you let me know."

"I'm staying," Fin says softly, breaking the tense silence. "I don't care what other options I have."

"The Bureau won't like that very much," Hotch says, glancing over at her, the way a tired father might.

"Screw the Bureau. And screw the director. They can't break us up. We've been through way too much together." Fin looks around the table at the people she loves so desperately. Spencer's hand tightens on her thigh. "And I don't have much family left, so... I'm staying."

Hotch's phone rings, and he pulls it out, glancing at the screen briefly before answering. The room is tense. Waiting. "Hotchner. Yes. Right. We can be there in twenty minutes." He hangs up and sighs heavily. "Virginia police believe they've uncovered a serial killer."

Fin runs a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "And of course they had to do it on a Friday."

"They need us at Zacha Road and Route 7 as soon as possible," Hotch continues. "Morgan, you and Dave head out there."

"What about this?" Rossi asks, pushing his chair back from the table.

Hotch sighs again. "We can talk about it later."

Morgan gets up, too, and he and Rossi hurry out the door, followed by Penelope, carrying her laptop and coffee mug, on her way to her lair.

"Reid, you and Finley stay here, work the geographical profile and whatever information Morgan and Rossi give you," Hotch says.

"Hotch." Fin stands up, just as he turns to leave the room.

He pauses, looks back at her.

"Are you staying?"

"It's...my intention," he replies carefully.

"Hotch."

He inhales, then nods. "Yes."

The knot in Fin's stomach unwinds just a little. She gives him a small smile. "Okay."

As usual, Spencer and Fin work better in silence. Fin sifts through Jake Wattey's college transcripts and Paige Hawley's Facebook page, all helpfully printed out by Penelope, while Spencer pokes pins into the map on the case board, muttering quietly to himself. They do this for almost an hour, until Fin has to take a break from the seemingly unending number of pages in front of her.

"Moving two bodies across multiple states is a huge risk," Fin says, leaning back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. Too many selfies and red-shirt seasons, and her eyes begin to water. "I don't think this guy's working alone."

"I don't either." Spencer chews on his lip thoughtfully. "Paige was abducted months after Jake, which means Jake was held in the meantime, and he traveled with both. They were both healthy and athletic. There's no way a single offender, regardless of how organized he might be, could keep them both under control without help."

"So this is a group?" Fin raises her eyebrows.

"Yes, it is." The door to the conference room opens, and Hotch enters, followed by a red-headed woman who looks slightly familiar. "Reid, Finley, this is SAC Andi Swann. She's the head of the DTTF, and she'll be consulting with us on this case. Andi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and SSA Hazel Finley."

"Nice to meet you." Andi shakes Fin's hand and nods to Spencer, who keeps his arms crossed over his chest, nodding back and then dropping into the nearest chair. He's getting better with germs and other people, but today's been a stressful day so far, so Fin won't bug him about it. She knows he's really nervous about everything going on.

"I interviewed for the DTTF once I got out of the Academy," Fin says, nodding. She remembers Andi now. "I didn't have the qualifications back then, but I remember you said I had potential."

"And clearly you did." Andi smiles at her. "I hear you work very well as a profiler."

Fin blushes a little, glancing over at Hotch, who gives her an encouraging smile and then a nod. Back to business. She looks back at Andi, eyebrows raised. "So...you know the group who did this?"

"Yes." Andi looks up at their case boards, shoving her hands into her pockets. "My team and I have been two steps behind an organization that abducts college kids throughout the US."

Hotch hands her a steaming coffee mug, and she nods her thanks to him.

"How long have you been tracking them?" Fin asks, leaning against the back of Spencer's chair.

"Three years," Andi replies. "But this is the first time there's been an identifiable body."

"Do you think this is their work?" Spencer tilts his head up curiously, resting his chin on his hand.

"It's definitely their type. Stressed-out, vulnerable kids."

"Paige and Jake were both low-risk, middle-to-upper class." Fin frowns. "Wouldn't it be easier to take kids off the streets, where no one would miss them?"

"Young innocents are worth more money," Spencer replies, tilting his head back to look at her.

"And they're harder to lure, so they hold onto them for a longer period of time," Hotch adds, crossing his arms over his chest. "How many victims do you estimate they hold at one time?"

"That's hard to say." Andi shakes her head, thinking. "But from what I can tell, there's a lot of turnover."

Hotch nods. "Customers don't want to see the same faces twice."

"We don't think they travel with more than a handful of victims at one time." Andi glances back up at the board, her hands tightening around her mug. "They're low-tech, minimal, but they're damn organized, which makes them hard to catch. The rumor is that they hold events for two days in metropolitan areas and then they disappear."

"What kind of events?" Spencer asks, leaning forward in his chair.

"Where top-paying customers can do things like this-" Andi gestures to the photos on the case board- "and worse to the victims."

"It seems impossible to trace." Spencer frowns, staring off into space, his brain clearly whirring as he connects every dot.

"We study their behavior," Andi replies. "They're not a good breed, but they're still human. They make a few mistakes. We've also recently established an undercover unit."

"Wait, how can you infiltrate them?" Spencer's brows narrow confusedly. "Wouldn't your agents have to commit a crime to be accepted as a customer?"

"Exactly." Andi nods. "That's why we can't pose as buyers. The entire system is set up to protect the customers, but there's no way we can trace them from that end."

"So...your agents go in as targets." Realization hits Fin like a brick wall. This is what she would have signed up for, had Andi been as accepting as Strauss. It makes her stomach churn.

"Do you have anybody under now?" Hotch asks.

"Locally, a few. They're still establishing their backstories."

"They might be able to help," Hotch says, and Andi nods, reaching for her phone.

"I'll call."

Once she leaves the room, phone held to her ear, Hotch walks up to the board, uncrossing his arms. "This group needs space and solitude, especially if they're holding multiple victims. Paige and Jake lived thousands of miles apart, but were both targeted. So...they send scouts to campuses, malls, clubs." He's thinking out loud, and somehow, it's all coherent.

"And it makes sense they wouldn't take more than one victim from a given city." Fin nods, perching on the edge of the table, her brain working hard to connect all the dots. "It keeps their profile lower and it's less to carry at a time."

"The victims are assets," Spencer says, bouncing his leg up and down anxiously. "Why would the unsubs kill their profit?"

"Maybe the victims are escaping," suggests Hotch, and then he pauses thoughtfully. Fin can almost see the lightbulb above his head. "Or...the clients are adapting."

"What do you mean, 'adapting'?" Fin asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"These clients are extremely depraved. When the act of sex isn't enough for them anymore, they may be demanding more extreme forms of release." Hotch's tone is grim, his mouth a thin, pursed line.

There are hurried footsteps out in the hallway and then Andi walks back in, shoving her phone into her pocket. Her brows are narrowed, too.

"What is it?" Hotch asks.

Andi pauses, swallows. "One of my UCs missed her last two check-ins."

Spencer sits up straight in his chair. Fin's stomach drops. She reaches for his hand, only to find he was already reaching for her.

This changes everything.

~

ooohoohoo suspense :)

posting early because a) i feel like it and b) i'm busy this weekend and will most definitely forget everything i'm supposed to do

also, yes, i changed a ton of the dialogue up in this one because it didn't flow right to me, and also because seaver isn't here anymore, and i didn't want fin to just take all her lines, because that's very un-creative of me.