Supervisory Special Agent Aurora Taylor is one of the Bureau's finest agents, but her dark past is a mystery to all, including her superiors, when she finds herself working with the highly respected Behavioural Analysis Unit, she finds herself growi...
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"I have to advise against his," Hotch told the Sheriff as they walked through the cemetery toward Cortland Ryan's burial site. After the letter had been delivered to the newspaper, the entirety of the town wanted to see proof that the serial killer was truly dead, using whispers of failed executions to justify their misguided beliefs, their emotions clouding their abilities to see reason and realize, this wasn't Cortland Ryan, it was an elaborate copycat he helped create.
The sheriff had given into his town's demands for proof and ordered the body to be dug up out of the ground immediately, his worries for the town blurring his judgment and keeping him from reasoning with the agents trying to help him keep his town together and catch the newest evil to step into Lower Canaan, "All due respect this isn't your town," The elder man told the unit chief flatly, "I have to convince them that Cortland Ryan is dead and buried,"
"But you're indulging this killer by perpetuating the ruse that he's created," Hotch countered, stopping his movements when he found himself in front of a six-foot hole in the ground, a lazily forged wooden coffin rotting at the bottom of the pit.
"He's right," Prentiss stated, "It may embolden him, prompt more murders,"
"Sela lost her only daughter to that bastard," The Sheriff revealed, "We met when I was working the case, and grew close, I thought we'd gotten past all this, but I guess I was kidding myself," He turned to the construction grew, giving the controller of the small crane a nod, silently ordering him to begin hauling the coffin up by the chains they had managed to secure around the box.
Aurora, who had been stood between Rossi and Prentiss recoiled as the machinery began operating, a high pitch scream erupted from the pit as metal rang against metal, resistance from the coffin worsening the sound, discomfort rushed through her but she remained still, merely wincing at the sound, she refused to let the other agents see her discomfort, she kept her focus on the rising coffin until she noticed him backing away from the site.
Hotch held his head in his hands, groaning as the sound grew louder, aggravating his injured ear, and sending waves of pain pulsing through his head weakening his balance and distorting all his senses, the pain had distracted him enough that he hadn't registered her move towards him until she grabbed onto his arm to keep him from stumbling, "Hotch," She called, her voice distant and distorted, she called him again but he didn't hear her, his hand wrapped around her arm, his back falling against a nearby tree, "Hey!" She snapped, her voice louder than it had been before, "You okay?"
The screaming metal eased and after a few moments, his balance returned, he pulled his arm from hers, and she let go of him allowing him to stand on his own while he recovered, she watched him carefully, noticing how he worked quickly to pull his emotionless mask back over his pain-ridden features, "I'm okay," He said after a moment.
"And I'm Tinkerbell," She shot back, brow lifting, unimpressed by his attempt to cover the truth.
Gasps escaped the officers behind the uncomfortable agents, they turned and saw the Sheriff with a hand on his head while his officers stood wide-eyed looking into the wooden box, the agents walked over and discovered what had shocked everyone and found that inside the coffin there was no body, just remnants of soil and a white cloth the body should have been wrapped in. This copycat deserved some credit, they were working overtime to sell the idea that Cortland Ryan was alive and had returned to Lower Canaan.
