" Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world. "

— Albert Einstein

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2.1 ; SIXTEEN.

"SHIT!" CAROLINE CURSED AS she stumbled up the porch stairs in her glossy black heels, almost dropping the large cake in her arms. Luckily, she caught herself before she fell face-first into the icing-covered dessert and balanced the box containing the pastry more securely in her arms before continuing to walk up the steps.

Why her Aunt Guinevere decided on a gigantic three-by-three foot cake for the celebration was beyond her. The stupid thing was too large to see around, causing her to trip several times.

Caroline approached the door to the old brown Victorian house. She shifted the weight of the pink and yellow cake to her right arm and reached to knock on the door with her left. But before her knuckles even touched the door, the huge oak doors swung open, revealing her Aunt Guinevere in the doorframe.

The moment she saw her aunt—Caroline was hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia. Her aunt looked so much like her mom, it was astounding. Despite the fact her aunt was older than her younger sister, Caroline's mom, by two years, she had the exact same long blonde hair that passed well below her shoulder blades, the same blue eyes and the same heart shaped face that her mother has—well, once had.

Caroline was so taken-back she wasn't even able to move or speak.

"Caroline, there you are!" Her aunt beamed at her, wiping her pale hands off on a light blue washcloth. The older woman looked at the huge cake in her arms, ecstatic. "You picked up the cake. Perfect! Just come inside and set it on the table."

The profiler maneuvered her way into the house and her aunt moved out of the way in order for her to carry the cake inside. She passed through the foyer and entered the black-and-white tiled kitchen before setting the cake down on the counter carefully, making sure she wouldn't mess up the precariously frosted pink and yellow icing.

"Aunt G, why did you get a cake that was so big?" Caroline asked her, smoothing back her plaid skirt and quickly fixed the wrinkles in her white blouse.

The blonde girl examined her aunt and she could tell that Aunt Guinevere had been cooking recently because of the flour that clung to the side of her face and the ends of her silvery-blonde hair. It almost made her seem a little washed-out, as if the white flour had somehow drowned out whatever color her aunt had on her pale skin. Also, it didn't take a profiler to see the ingredients all spread out on the counter across from her.

"Your sister's birthday is in two days," Aunt Guinevere explained to her as she cleaned up the leftover food she used to cook breakfast earlier that morning, "and it is her sweet sixteen. We are celebrating as a family."

"With a cake that's bigger than her?"

"With a cake that is bigger than her." She nodded enthusiastically.

Caroline rolled her eyes and laughed at her aunt. It felt nice to be back again. It was rare when she got to visit her family, because of all the travel she does at the BAU. So, she packed up and she was going to stay with Aunt Guinevere for a couple of days. Somehow, she was able to convince Hotch to let her take a couple days off, but he only agreed to it after he heard it was her Cait's birthday. He, of all people, knew how big that was for them. And with everything about Reid and the recurring nightmares she's been having of late, she needed to see her family now more than ever.

"So, is Chris here yet?" She asked her aunt, reaching over the counter to taste the pancake batter she was making. Her aunt slapped her hand away and shook her finger at her niece playfully.

"He is outside with Rebecca and Cassie setting up the decorations for the party."

"Becca is here?"

"Yes, she flew in from Jamaica this week." Her aunt informed her, mixing the batter confidently. Caroline reached over and dropped in some strawberries and her aunt smiled at her. She knew those were her sister's favorite type of pancakes—strawberry.

"But I thought she was doing an exposé in Cuba?"

"She was. . .until Jamaica presented a better story."

"Let me guess, water for the poor?"

Her aunt laughed, shaking her head. "No, actually. It's about providing healthcare in rural areas in Africa."

"Well, nonetheless, I'm glad she's here." She told her aunt, giving her a small smile. "It's been a while since I've seen her."

Rebecca Moorehouse was not only her brother's girlfriend of seven years, but she was also one of her closest friends. Her brother and Rebecca were high school sweethearts, but the only reason they started dating was because Caroline introduced them when they were seventeen. And despite Becca's absence because of her job, the two have been together ever since.

Her brother's girlfriend worked as a travel writer and she was just about the coolest person she knew. Rebecca was one of the only people who had stuck around after the death of their parents and she had been by her family's side ever since. In Caroline's eyes, she was the only girl good enough for her brother.

"Caroline?"

The moment she heard her sister's voice, she turned and saw Caitlin standing in the doorway, holding a leather-bound journal that Caroline had given her for her last birthday in her hands. They stared at each other for a moment and Caroline was struck by how much she had grown.

She remembered her little sister with pigtails and braces, but her sister was no longer a little girl. Her straight-as-a-stick dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, but somehow, her sister managed to pull it off. Instead of big dopey eyes and chubby cheeks, her sister had lost most of her baby chub, which was replaced with high cheekbone and a rounded jawline. Her jade green eyes had lost their doughiness over the years and had become more prominent on her face.

Oh, her eyes. She had their father's eyes—the Hale family eyes. Those deep green eyes that practically glowed when the light hit them were the hallmark of the Hale line. Her siblings had inherited the beautiful jade green eyes that people always envy. Caroline, on the other hand, inherited her mother's eyes—the blue turquoise ringed with gold.

Caitlin had grown into a beautiful young lady, it almost made Caroline want to cry. She had missed her more than she could've possibly imagined. 

"Happy early birthday, little sis." She told her, smiling at her. "Did you miss me?"

Her sister squealed and threw her writing journal on the kitchen floor. She darted forward and tackled Caroline in a hug, wrapping her skinny arms around her waist. The young profile laughed at her excitement and squeezed her tightly, refusing to let go.

"I didn't know if you were actually going to come!" Caitlin exclaimed. "I just can't believe it. You're actually staying here?"

Caroline pulled away from the hug, holding her sister by her shoulders at arm length. She petted her blonde hair carefully, soothingly. "I'm not leaving. I came here to celebrate your birthday, as a family."

"So no work?"

"No work."

Her face lit up with a grin and Caroline felt something stir in the her heart, like her emotions had become a tangible thing she could touch. Her sister just looked so happy and normal, she couldn't help but feel relief. She was alive, and so was her brother and Cass. They survived hell six years ago, and they came out of it alive.

It took all Caroline had not to recall those weeks of horror.

Caitlin was only ten when the monster who ruined their lives broke into their home and held them captive. She had been young but old enough to remember what happened. They got lucky with Cass. She was just a baby when it all happened so she doesn't remember it, except what they tell her, which wasn't much. They all wanted Cass to have a normal a life as possible without the horror of what happened hanging over her head.

Caitlin had been ten. Ten years old.

When she was ten, she had a twin brother named Charlie. Charlie had been Cait's world—her best friend.

She had lost the most important person to her in a second it took for a trigger to be pulled. 

And now, she was about to turn sixteen. Caroline vowed after Charlie's death that no matter what happened to them, they would always be a family. Always. 

"Look what we have here," Caroline heard her brother's voice coming from behind her, startling her, "is that my little sister I see, not at work? Please, somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming."

The blonde 22-year-old turned on her heels and saw her older brother standing in the doorway leading to the backyard.

The word handsome didn't really describe her brother—although that's all they heard when they were growing up. Overwhelming described him more. When he turned sixteen, he had hit a growth spurt that rocked him to the sky, making him well over six feet tall. He was heavily-muscled and toned, and if she wasn't so used to being around him, she would almost be intimidated by his strength. He was deeply tanned from his time in the Middle East, making his green eyes and closely cropped blonde hair pop.

He was exactly as handsome and terrifying as their father used to be—if not more so.

"Oh, shut up, Chris. You work at the Pentagon, for Christ's sake. You have worse hours than I do." She teased her brother.

"See that's where you're wrong, Care." He told her, towering over her against the doorframe, grinning. "I got promoted, so now I work a regular 9 to 5 job."

She rolled her eyes at her brother but she went over and hugged him anyway. She buried her head in his chest, since he was almost a foot taller than her, and she listened to his heartbeat for a moment. He smelled strongly of paint and hot glue from hanging the decorations outside. She was almost shocked that he didn't smell like burning metal, like he usually does.

Her brother's job at the Pentagon wasn't one to be taken lightly. After serving in the Marine Corps for two years, Chris was promoted to a weapons coordinator and creator at the Pentagon. Whatever deadly weapon the government has to create, he probably had some big part of creating the weapon or making sure it existed. He has the power to potentially create a weapon that could wipe out a whole country, but he takes it in stride.

That was why Chris was her rock and he always would be, just like Dad used to be.

"Don't be a smartass. Just admit you are excited to see me, you asshole."

"I love you too, Care."

Caroline pulled away from her brother the moment Cass burst through the kitchen door from the backyard, running into the kitchen, laughing and squealing.

"Don't spray me, Becky!" Caroline's littlest sister squeaked with joy as she ran around the kitchen like the Tasmanian Devil, her blonde pigtails flopping around as she danced. "I be good, I promise!"

"Cassandra Hale, don't you track mud into this house!" Aunt Guinevere scolded the green-eyed five-year-old as she made a lap around the table, giggling wildly. The runny brown mud left puddles on the tile were her tiny feet padded through the kitchen. "Be careful!"

"Let her have her fun, Aunt G." Caitlin told her, laughing at their little sister. "Let her be a little dork. It's entertaining."

Just then Rebecca walked in from outside, laughing at the five-year-old running around like a crazy person in the kitchen as she wiped off the mud from her hands.

"I swear, that child has too much energy." She remarked, flipping her shoulder-length brown hair over her shoulder casually. "She could go for days."

Then, her brother's girlfriend saw her standing in the kitchen and she let out the closest thing to a girly giggle she had ever heard. Rebecca's cocoa-colored eyes lit up as the woman pulled Caroline in a tight hug.

"I'm so happy you're here." She told her. "I missed you! I don't get to see you enough anymore."

"I missed you too, Bec."

Finally, the crazy five-year-old girl stopped running, giving into exhaustion. Her head bobbed as she looked around at everyone staring at her and she giggled, loving all the attention she was getting.

And then Cass saw Caroline.

"SISSY!" She screamed in excitement, her pigtails flying behind her as she sprinted towards her eldest sister's legs at full force.

Before she could knock her over, Caroline caught her and swung her around, laughing along with her giggles. She placed the young girl on her hip and her little sister buried her head into Caroline's fair blonde hair, rubbing her tiny nose into her neck, tickling her.

"How's my favorite little girl in the whole wide world?" She asked Cass fondly, rubbing her back as she wrapped her little arms around her neck delicately in a hug.

"You're home!" She giggled. "I miss you!"

"Oh, I missed you too, baby. So much."

And like that, Caroline was able to forget everything—her job, her past, her present, even the future. Nothing mattered to her more than these moments, the ones with her family. Six years ago, they bonded through something beyond blood. Without her family, she wouldn't be able to make it a single day. They were the thing that kept her going, the only reason she hasn't given up on life. Because she had them, and that was what mattered most.

Just then, her phone rang. Cass, startled by the loud ringing, shot up in her arms, looking at her older sister with large, confused eyes. Everyone stared at her as she fished through her skirt pockets and pulled out her cell. She didn't bother to check the caller ID when she answered.

"Hello?"

"Caroline, I need you to come in. We have a case." Hotch's voice came through the phone. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

She looked around at her family, all of them with expectant faces. She especially paid attention to Caitlin's. If she wasn't here, this was going devastate her.

Caroline carefully set Cass down and migrated towards the back of the house where she was positive no one would hear her.

"Hotch, you said I had these next couple of days off." She argued with him, starting to feel a little angry. "Is there any way you and the team could just go without me this one time?"

"I wish there was." He admitted, sounding sincere. She rubbed her head as she thought. "It's important."

Caroline sighed, defeated. "Caitlin is going to hate me."

"She is not going to hate you."

"Yes, she is. It's her sixteenth birthday, Hotch! I have never missed a birthday or an anniversary in six years because we almost didn't have those. This is going to kill her."

Then, she heard a gasp come from behind her and she whipped around, her blonde hair flying behind her. She saw Caitlin standing in the doorway with tears in her eyes.

"You're leaving?" She whispered. Her face was contorted and twisted, almost to where she looked like she was in pain. No, more like betrayal.

Caroline felt an immediate pang of guilt. She tried to backtrack. "No, Cait, wait! It's not like that—"

"It's never like that!" Her sister snapped at her, wiping the tears from under her eyes aggressively. "I understand your job is important, okay? But after everything we've been through, I just thought we could have a normal day without serial killers and psychopaths. For once, why can't we be normal?"

"I know, Caitlin, I'm sorry."

"No." She muttered, her eyes trained on the floor. "I'm tired of people apologizing. That's all I ever heard when Mom and Dad died, and even more so when Charlie died. I'm so sick of people saying they're sorry."

Caroline stared at her sister, unable to think of what to say. For once in her life, Caroline was beyond speechless. She couldn't think of one thing to say to her sister that would make this, everything, okay. Her uselessness caused a sharp, intense pain in her chest that she couldn't shake.

"Caitlin—"

"Don't, Caroline, just don't." She murmured, avoiding her sister's eyes. "Go ahead and leave. That's what you're good at anyway."

Caitlin turned on her heels and ran away, and she distinctly saw the tears running down her sister's face. Caroline rested her head against the wall, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to come.  Everything started to come back in a second; the raw, overwhelming fear and pain she's stifled down for years was bubbling up, suffocating her. She was gasping for air, unable to breathe. The world blurred in front of her and she stumbled, almost falling to her knees. She rested her hand on the wall to balance herself.

She was having a panic attack.

Caroling tried to calm herself down and slow her breathing, but it wasn't working. She needed to stop. All the pain, all the fear...it was too much. It overwhelmed her, drowning her. She wasn't strong enough to face everything she's shoved so far down inside herself she doesn't recognize it. She just wanted everything to stop.

Then make it stop, she told herself. No one is going to save you but yourself.

So, she took a deep breath and held it, trying to concentrate. She closed her eyes tightly, so tightly she was seeing pale purple spots dance across her eyes.

Caroline was doing what she did best—she was turning off her emotions.

When He had her family, everything was starting to boil over. Everything was too much to handle for her, and she was weak. She was always too scared or pathetic to even attempt to fight back. She needed to be strong for Cass and Caitlin and Chris if they wanted to make it out alive. So, when he would come into her room at night, she'd shut off her emotions. And when he'd started, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of her. That's when she discovered her unique ability to feel absolutely nothing when she wanted to, and she did it often.

That's when she felt it—the emptiness. She embraced it and she took relief in feeling absolutely nothing. Her face went slack and she straightened her back, her face becoming a cool exterior.

She suddenly remembered she was still on the phone with Hotch. She put the phone up to her ear, where he had just been silent the whole time.

"I'll be at Quantico in twenty."

She didn't wait for a response. She hung up the phone and didn't check it again.

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    Caroline walked through the the BAU headquarters aimlessly, trying to get her head together. The numbness had eventually subsided after she left her aunt's house, but that nagging worry was still there. Besides Caitlin, nobody was angry with her sudden departure. Her aunt even told her that Caitlin would shake out of it by the time she came back home, but she highly doubted that.

She had to find some way to make this up to her sister. Anything.

As she passed Gideon's office, she heard voices coming out through the cracked door. She stopped and listened in, curiously.

"So anyone else would've seen a guy who stutters, but you saw the Footpath Killer." A male voice stated, astounded.

She knew what they were talking about -- the Footpath Killer. It was a case Gideon was working on during his time at the university. Caroline even saw the original profile, the one the older profiler originally gave to the police. Given that he struck people from behind, even on a deserted footpath in the woods, he had to be ashamed of something. Gideon said it was a stutter, one of the hardest things to determine when giving a profile.

After the Seattle Strangler case, Caroline received a call from Reid that Gideon was at a decrepit gas station and had just caught the Footpath killer. Apparently, when they returned home, Gideon stumbled upon the gas station while out for a drive and found that the man running the store fit the profile -- stutter and all. But, before he could call the police, the Footpath Killer took him hostage and threatened him at gunpoint but walked out totally unharmed. They later arrested the man for all thirteen murders of the Footpath Killer.

He had yet to explain how he did it.

"Right." Gideon replied. "But sometimes these guys are still found by just dumb luck. Berkowitz was caught because of a parking ticket."

"Except the cop who caught him wasn't staring down a shotgun like you were." Caroline told Gideon, speaking up from the doorway.

"This is true." He nodded at her. He glanced over at the two male trainees sitting in front of him. "This is also a good time to stop."

"Thank you, sir." One of the male FBI trainees said as they stood up to leave.

"No, thank you."

As the trainees left, Caroline entered the room and sat down in the office chair directly in front of Gideon. She smoothed out her grey slacks as she sat down, trying to remove the wrinkles. After she left her aunt's house, she changed into something a little more appropriate for work, which just so happened to be some leftover grey slacks, a silk maroon blouse and a grey tailored jacket with some black flats she had in her go-bag stashed in her car. She didn't have time to head home and pick out clothes that were less wrinkled.

"Ok, I'm curious." Caroline said, leaning back in the chair. "Why'd he stutter?"

"You're on your way to becoming one of the best agents in the Bureau now, Caroline." Gideon replied, smiling at her like he knew a secret. "You tell me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Depends on whether or not you can figure it out, I suppose."

She narrowed her eyes and gave him a smug smile. "Okay. Challenge accepted."

Gideon nodded, acknowledging her determination. They both stood and Caroline followed him out of his office and into the bullpen where Reid was sitting at his desk, concentrating intently on a chess board, and both Derek and Elle were watching him with confused looks.

Gideon approached Reid and he moved his knight a few spaces to the left. "Check. Checkmate in three moves."

"What. . .?" Reid muttered to himself, staring at the chessboard in confusion.

"You know you'll start beating him when you learn." Caroline told him, coming up behind him. She glanced over his shoulder and examined the chess board. "He's definitely got you in three."

"Learning what?"

She smiled at him, patting him on the shoulders playfully. "To think outside of the box."

"You would know how to do that, wouldn't you, Care?" Derek commented, leaning back in his office chair. "You're our Little Miss Risk-Taker, aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes and leaned against Reid's desk, facing Derek and Elle. "Only when duty calls. But I have a question."

"Go for it." Elle said.

"The Footpath Killer, why did he stutter?" She asked them.

Morgan snorted. "Come on, Care, we've all asked Gideon and he won't say."

"We wants us to figure it out." Elle told her, crossing her arm over her chest. "Which is really a pain in the ass if you're the new guy and he keeps testing you at every turn."

Caroline gave Elle a sympathetic smile. After the Seattle Strangler case, Hotch approved Elle's transfer to the BAU. She was officially a member, but Gideon still keeps testing her every moment he gets.

"Doesn't matter." She said confidently. "I'm up for a challenge."

"Okay, hotshot." Elle told her, smiling smugly at her. "It's on. Luckily for you, I like a challenge."

"Good," a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and big blues eyes told Elle as she approached the small group of profilers, "because these are for you."

The small woman in the green sweater plopped a slack of government-issued files on her desk. Elle looked at the files in distaste, then the blonde woman with curiosity. Caroline bit back her laughter as she sat at her desk across form Reid's.

"I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, JJ if you like." The blonde woman stuck out her to Elle and she took it, shaking their hands briefly before pulling away.

"Elle."

"Greenaway—highest number of solved cases in Seattle three years running, speciality in sex offender cases."

Elle looked over at Caroline with an impressed look and she just smiled at her. JJ was the lifeline at the BAU, she knew everything about everyone. It was her job.

"Not bad." She told JJ.

"Well, I'm the unit liaison." She explained to Elle as she walked towards Hotch's office in the back of the bullpen. "My speciality is untangling bureaucratic knots. You'll probably be talking to me a lot. My door's always open, mainly because I'm never in my office. So just call me on my cell, okay? We'll talk."

Hotch walked out of his office right as JJ approached. They had a brief discussion before he turned to everyone huddled in the bullpen.

"BAU Team, can you meet me in the conference room, please?" Hotch announced. "I need to show you something."

Everyone got up and followed their boss into the conference room directly from across his office. It was quiet as they settled into their regular seating arrangements. Caroline sat in the seat facing the window that looked out into the bullpen to where she could see all the FBI agents and trainees running around, trying to get all of their work done for the day. She also had a clear view of the door, so she can watch who comes in and out of the FBI field office. She liked it that way, the way where she knew what was going on at all times around her.

She sat directly across from Hotch, with Reid on her right and Derek on her left. Elle was beside Derek and Gideon sat between Reid and JJ, who was squashed in between the two.

After everyone settled, Hotch began presenting the case.

"This is from the Phoenix office, the Bradshaw College in Tempe has experienced six fires in seven months."

"Who recorded it?" Gideon asked, pushing his glasses on top of his head.

Caroline flipped through the files laid out in front of her as everyone talked, trying to get ahead.

"A student with a digital camcorder." JJ told him. "He was watching a fire in the building across front their dorm. The other person you'll see is his roommate, 20-year-old Matthew Rowland."

She directed their attention to the flat screen TV hanging on the wall perpendicular to Caroline. JJ pulled out a small white remote and pressed a button, making the screen light up.

At first, this picture was grainy, but it focused in after a couple of seconds. The camera was trained on a window two-stories above the vantage point, where smoke was billowing out of the room and the huge yellow and red fire coming from the room burned out everything else.

"This is crazy!" The student from the tape hollered as the cameraman zoomed in on the fire. "Hey, Matt, get over here. You gotta see this, man. The building's on fire!"

A young man with impish features and shaved back black hair stuck his face into the frame, his face colored with excitement. He smiled at the camera, exposing large, white teeth. "I can't believe this. This is so cool!"

"Is that him?" Gideon asked.

"Yeah, that's him." Hotch replied.

They continued to watch the tape and things quickly went from bad to worse.

"Whoa, dude, over here." The student on the tape called to him, pointing over to under their door. Strangely, there was a unknown pool of liquid forming under the door coming from the outside, like someone was pouring something inside the room. "Check this out."

"What is it?" Matthew Rowland asked his roommate as he leaned over to investigate the mysterious substance.

The cameraman sighed.. "I don't know, but it's coming underneath the door. Is someone in the hallway?"

Suddenly, the sound of the lock turning against the door got both of they boys' attentions. Caroline bit her lip as she watched.

"Hey, someone's trying to get in!" The cameraman exclaimed, then his concern shifted to his friend. "Hey, dude, you should get away from there."

"Oh, my god, it smells like gas!" Matthew told his friend, his nose scrunching.

Before either student could react, large white and yellow flames raced up Matthew's body, covering the student.

"Oh, God! God!" He screamed in agony as the flames raced up his body. Caroline tried to ignore out his cries of pain, but he was too loud. She flinched at each cry, but she didn't take her eyes off the screen.

The student stumbled and fell on the floor, screaming even louder as the fire began to melt his body. The cameraman dropped the camcorder on the floor, racing to his friend, trying to put him out with a used rug.

And that was were the video ended, the young man desperately trying to save his friend. They didn't need to see the rest to know what happened.

Everyone focused on Hotch, trying to comprehend what they just saw. Caroline just saw a man being burned alive. And yet, as horrible and terrifying as that was, she wasn't as disgusted or horrified as she thought she would be—should be when presented such gruesome images.

And that scared her. A lot.

"Wheels up in 30." Hotch told them team, his face a mask of cool seriousness. "I don't think I need to tell you that time is of the essence here."

Caroline sighed and and rested her head in the palm of her hands. Serial arsonists only had two things of consistency. One was they will set fire anytime or anywhere under their right set of circumstances. The second part was the worst one of all.

They don't stop until they're caught.