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Hotch had told her not to go alone for this precise reason. This unsub was unpredictable in his motives and his execution style. Everything about this man was a mystery and therefore a danger to the BAU as a whole. They had been told to stick together but only in pursuit, did (Y/N) realise that she was alone.
She should've turned back; it would have been the smart thing to do.
If she had been smarter, she would’ve made it home tonight. She would’ve made it home to her husband. Spencer wouldn’t have to lose her.
“Again,” the unsub said, ignoring her cries of pain. “I just want to know what the FBI has on me.”
“It doesn’t matter. They have enough.”
“Make it go away.”
“No.” (Y/N) gritted her teeth, knowing how her answer wasn’t the right answer for her captor. Wrong answers were punished.
The FBI had a crap ton of nothing. She knew this. They has barely profiled him down to his age group. They had stumbled across him by accident. All they knew that he was a psychotic murderer with narcissistic tendencies.
“What is it about you agents that don’t seem to get how underpowered you are?” The unsub moved away from where he had (Y/N) tied and towards a duffel bag in the corner. “You’d think after I slaughtered the first two that they’d learn? But you never do. Do you think you’ll scream as much as Agent Monroe did? Or just break down like Agent Callahan?”
“That was you?”
“Oh yeah. You didn’t know?” He smirked, pulling a small box from the bag. “Ha! You didn’t know! I wonder if your team know that I’ve got you. Or will you become just another face on the wall?”
“They know.” The words were shaky. (Y/N) couldn’t even convince herself that they were true. They weren’t coming. Nobody was.
Spencer, she knew, would be out of his mind by now. His overprotectiveness had always annoyed her but now she knew why he was like that. He had been where she was. He had made it out alive. She wouldn’t.
They had vowed to never give up on each other but she wished that they hadn’t. That promise would be his ruin when he couldn’t fulfil it.