" Don't bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself. "

— William Faulkner

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2.5 ; HEIRLOOM.

CAROLINE SLOWLY LOWERED HERSELF into the plush leather seat of the BAU's jet, tossing her bags carelessly in the chair beside her. She sighed tiredly, leaning back and closed her eyes, trying to get a moment's rest. Besides her and the captain of the jet, tucked away in the cockpit of the running plane, the jet was empty and completely silent. She had gotten here earlier than planned, but she needed a moment to clear her head.

After Clara was arrested, they placed her in a mental hospital while awaiting her trial. She didn't know what would happen to the girl, but whatever it was, she hoped it wasn't too cruel of a fate. Despite the fact that Clara Hayes killed two people, she just needed some help. And if she had received it, a feeling taunted Caroline that Clara could've been saved from whatever her life has become now.

And on top of that, it was still Caitlin's birthday—at least for a couple more hours. Unless Caroline could get to her aunt's house the moment she lands, there was no way she could make it. She was going to miss her sister's birthday. The very thought of it made her stomach churn.

The sound of someone walking up the steel steps, their shoes clicking the metal loudly as the person boarded the empty plane, caused her to finally stir. Caroline opened her eyes reluctantly, groaning as she turned around in her seat at the new arrival.

There goes peace and quiet, she thought to herself, shaking her head. Then again, with a team like hers, she didn't get much quiet.

Gideon appeared in the aisle of the jet, carrying his small go-bag strapped across his shoulders. He saw her turned in her seat, watching him, and he gave the younger girl and small smile as he sunk down in the seat across from her. He didn't say a word to her as he settled in.

Caroline bit her lip, watching for a split second more before breaking the silence.

"You know, I figured it out." She told him. "The stutter."

He raised his eyebrows up at her, curious. "You know why the Footpath Killer stuttered?"

"When we were talking earlier, that's when I got it. I told you and Hotch that I was just trying to stall Clara."

"Right."

"Well, that's it, isn't it? The Footpath Killer—you were just trying to stall him." She explained, giving him a smile. "You said, 'I know why you stutter' because you were buying time. You were stalling, but you don't really know why he stutters."

"I don't?"

"I looked it up. No one does."

Gideon nodded and rubbed the inner corner of his eyes warily. "There are some theories about a neurological basis."

"But they're just theories." She said, leaning closer towards him. She stared right at him, refusing to break under his intimidating stare. "What really happened in the convenience store?"

It was silent for a moment. The darkness of the night surrounded them, blackening out the windows and left a chill in Caroline's bones. Suddenly, Gideon's eyes started to mimic that same darkness, the burden of simply knowing. He glanced up at her, his eyes completely focused and stern.

"I'll tell you what I do know about a stutter." He muttered darkly. "I know who to provoke one."

Caroline opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the sound of more footsteps boarding the plane immediately stopped her. But, now more than ever, she really wanted to know what happened in the convenient store.

"Is there any regulations against drinking on the plane?" Caroline heard Elle ask teasingly as she boarded the plane.

Morgan snorted. "Probably. Hey, Reid, what's the rule on—"

"Actually, there technically isn't a rule on drinking on the job. Most of them are just societal conjectures. However there are stipulations, such as excessive and copious amounts that influence the performance in the field—"

"And forget I ever asked." Derek mumbled, throwing his stuff in the seats across from Caroline and Gideon. Elle wasn't far behind as she sunk in the seat across from him.

"Well, whatever rules or stipulations there may or may not be," Hotch said, "there's no alcohol on the plane anyway. So you guys are out of luck."

Elle sucked in a breath. "Dammit."

Caroline rolled her eyes, smiling as Reid squeezed by her. She pulled her bags out of the way as he sat in his customary seat beside her. He leaned back in his chair, clutching his brown leather satchel in front of him. He cocked his head to the side and cast a sideways glance at her.

"Is everything alright?" He asked her, his eyes examining her face, concerned. "You usually always wait for me and we board the plane together. Did I do something?"

"No, Spence. You didn't do anything." She sighed and picked at the leather armrest absentmindedly, avoiding his gaze. "I just needed some time alone for a bit."

Gideon, suddenly feeling his presence was no longer required, stood up quietly and left the two young profilers sitting alone to sit beside Hotch in the front of the plane. Neither of them watched him go.

"What's wrong?" Reid finally asked when Gideon left. He lowered his head, trying to look into her eyes, but her head was turned away from him, shielding her face.

"It's just—it's just...I'm going to miss Caitlin's birthday after all." She murmured, stealing a glance a her bag resting on the floor. A box-shaped bulge protruded from the bag and Caroline sighed. She wasn't even going to be able to give Cait her present.

"How do you know that?" He whispered to her softly, trying to assure her. It amazed her how he could tell by one glance that she was struggling. He just knew. "We still have a couple of hours."

"By the time we land, I'll be so far away from my aunt's, the drive will be impossible." She fought back tears, her voice becoming thick. "It'll be too late."

It was silent for a moment as Reid contemplated what to say next. Suddenly, he sat up, his eyes lighting up with an idea. She watched him carefully, almost cautiously. She wasn't going to get her hopes up.

"I could drive you." He told her. "When we land, I can drive you to your aunt's house. We'd get there right before midnight, if I book it."

She frowned, unsure. "I don't know, Spence—"

"Do you trust me?"

Caroline paused for a moment, looking into his piercing brown eyes. He was being sincere. She bit her lip.

"Yes."

He smiled. "Then trust me that I will get you there, okay? No matter what."

She trusted him. She trusted him with her life on a daily basis. But what if he didn't get her there before midnight? What if she did miss her sister's birthday?

She refused to let herself hope that it was possible. Because, if it wasn't, then she didn't have her hopes up and it won't sting as much as it already does now. To know that she was so close...

But, it was Reid and in that weird way of his, he smiled at her and her defenses melted away. She smiled back, a small smile that wasn't much but it meant everything to her.

She allowed herself to not hope, but believe in Spencer Reid.

"Okay."

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        Ultimately, after a quick agreement that both of them would deny of any involvement in their endeavor of racing towards Aunt Guinevere's house if caught, Reid turned on the sirens in the large black SUV that he and Caroline "borrowed" from Quantico's garage. Spencer whizzed in and out of lanes, the cars on the road parting the way for them darting up the street. He even ran a couple of red lights, which almost resulted in a wreck but the car he almost stampeded hit the brakes just before their car lined up right in front of the FBI's large SUV.

Caroline had never seen Reid drive with such urgency. One reason was that he usually never drives, especially on cases where Morgan and Hotch usually take the wheel. Another was because she didn't think he had it in him to be so...aggressive. Most of the time, he was meek and a little awkward, which was fine. Around her, he opened up and she liked him for how he was. But she had never really seen him so wound-up before now, hollering at anybody who got in their way and taking questionable roads. If she was being completely honest, she kinda liked how he took it upon himself to be in charge. It was a different side of Spencer Reid Caroline didn't know existed, but she liked it.

He truly was doing everything to get her to her aunt's house before midnight. She smiled a little and clutched the small jewelry box closer to her chest, thinking of some weird, twisted fairytale. Instead of the princess running away from the ball before midnight and leaving behind her shoe for the prince to find, Prince Charming was the one racing her home before time ran out.

It was a good thing Caroline's life wasn't a fairytale.

After two more close-call accidents, Reid finally pulled to a halt in front of Aunt Guinevere's house, the brakes screeching as the SUV slowed to a stop. He parked the car and checked the digital clock on the dashboard before turning to beam at her.

"11:55!" He exclaimed, beating his palms against the steering wheel in excitement. "I can't believe we actually made it!"

Caroline said nothing. She knew she should've been thanking him and running to the door in the dramatic way movies portray, but she was utterly frozen. Her eyes were locked on her aunt's old Victorian house and she could feel her stomach churn with anxiety.

Reid quickly realized something wasn't right. His smile disappeared. "Care, we made it. Why aren't you going inside?"

"I don't know," she admitted to him, her eyes still locked on the house, "I just—I guess I'm scared. Of what she'll say, if she'll even forgive me."

And that was true. If Cait decided to forgive her, she would then be faced with all the questions she had about her parents' and Charlie's deaths. She would have to reopen all those deep, hidden wounds.

"You know, the average person doesn't truly forgive, they actually let their emotions fester underneath until either the issue is resolved or someone breaks."

Her head turned to give him a wide-eyed stare. "And how is that suppose to assure me?"

He gave her a small smile. "Because if I had someone as amazing and wonderful as you apologizing to me, I would forgive them in a heartbeat."

Caroline was at a loss for words. Just like that, all her fears were gone. She no longer feared Caitlin and her questions, if she so had them.

Spencer Reid thinks she's amazing.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek softly, just a graze of her lips. He suddenly went very still as she moved her lips up to his ear, her nose brushing the side of his face with the gentleness of a feather. She murmured, her voice like a wisp of air at his ear, "Thank you, Reid. For everything."

She didn't pause to listen if he had anything in response. She didn't even see his reaction. She didn't want to ruin the moment.

With the small precious velvet box she clutched with utter care and precaution to her chest, Caroline slipped out of the car and into the still night.

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Despite how late it was, Aunt Guinevere had answered the door without a moment's hesitation and welcomed her eldest niece with open arms. Caroline glanced over her appearance, the dark circles and the evident exhaustion mirrored in her green eyes told her that her aunt had probably stayed up all night, waiting for her.

Her aunt didn't question why Caroline was here at such a late hour of the night. She simply pointed to the oak staircase behind her with a gentle smile.

Caroline gave her aunt a quick rub on the shoulder, a gesture of gratitude, as she entered the house quietly as she could. She walked up the steps without saying a word, trying not to wake the rest of her slumbering family.

Caitlin's room was the first door on the left upstairs. On the old Victorian oak door hung a small whiteboard that had been tacked up with two small yellow push-pins. The board was covered in Cait's handwriting—most were doodles in red and blue marker of flowers and whatever else her sister thought was cute at the time, but in the center she had written DO NOT DISTURB in large cursive letters, the message underlined twice with thick black lines.

Caroline chuckled as she approached the door. She ignored the frigid wind of teen rebellion airing from the message as she stood in the hallway as quietly as she could, her heels creaking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight from her toes to her heels.

She brought her hand up to the door and knock softly once, then twice. There was no answer.

Caroline reached for the doorknob and turned it. The hinges creaked as the door opened, revealing her sister's bedroom.

A summer ago, Caitlin had wanted to paint her room from the bright pink she had chosen when she was eleven to a "more adult" color—like maroon or beige. After a discussion about what being an adult really was and what she really wanted to paint her room (because, seriously, beige? Which one of her friends talked her into that?), Caroline had somehow talked her down from painting over the still bright pink paint on the walls. But they did get her new furniture, because the older stuff from their childhood home was getting a little beat-up. They had replaced the old pine dresser, nightstand and vanity with white-washed wooden ones, all of the objects pushed against the walls.

And pushed against the far wall, alongside the window, was Caitlin's bed, with her butterfly covers pulled over her sleeping form.

She smiled at her sleeping sister as she leaned against the doorway. "You can get up now, Cait. I know you aren't asleep."

One green eye peeked open at her. Her sister grumbled. "How did you know?"

Caroline slipped into the room and shut the door behind her with a soft click. "Because when you fall asleep, your eyebrows do this twitchy-thing. It's cute."

Caitlin didn't reply. She carefully sat up in the bed as she deliberated what to say next.

"What are you doing here, Caroline?" Her sister finally asked, her voice muffled by sleep. "You missed my birthday. There was no reason to come back."

She left her place in her doorway and sat on the edge of her bed, nodding towards the digital clock sitting on her sister's nightstand. "Actually, it isn't midnight yet, so if you're getting technical, I haven't missed your birthday."

Caitlin didn't react. She just blinked at her, those green eyes staring at her in the dark.

"Anyway..." Caroline said as she fished out the small box she had tucked away in the inside of her coat. She rested it on the bedspread in front of Caitlin's crossed legs. "I just wanted to give you your present. If you'll have it."

The small amount of moonlight peeking through the window across the room barely illuminated Caitlin's face. Despite being mad, her sister couldn't help but examine the small velvet box set in front of her in curiosity. She bit her lip, debating on what to do next.

"No," she eventually said, crossing her arms stubbornly. She glared at Caroline. "I'm not just going to forgive you for flaking, again, might I add, because you brought a present. I can't be bought."

"I'm not trying to buy you, Cait. If you'll just open it, you'll see."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why? What's so damn important about it?"

"Just...open it."

After a short, but incredibly tense moment, with Caitlin's eyes never leaving hers, her sister eventually caved. She puffed her breath, her cheeks bubbling out. She snatched the present off the bedspread and gritted her teeth as she unclasped the metal lock and lifted the lid

The moment Caitlin laid eyes on the necklace, her demeanor changed in a second. Her green eyes, which had once been filled in anger and exhaustion, were replaced with longing. The young blonde's lip began to quiver as she beheld her present.

"Is this..." Caitlin covered her mouth with her hand, not sure whether to cry or scream. "This can't be it."

"It is." Caroline smiled, peering at her younger sister's face. She wasn't sure what she was looking for. Joy? Fear? Sadness?

Caitlin delicately lifted the necklace out of the box, holding it by the thin gold chain. In her hand lay a coin-size gold amulet. She fought against the urge to cry. Made of intricate bands of metal, within the round border of the amulet lay two overlapping circles, on top of the other. In the space that they shared were two small gems—a blue sapphire and a green jade—that gave the center of the necklace the appearance of an eye. A small gold metal line connected all the gems and borders together. It was simply beautiful—and it had been their mother's.

"This is Mom's necklace! But she gave this to you when she..." Caitlin swallowed, trying to force the words out, "before she died."

"Yes, she did." She looked at the glistening stones in the amulet, remembering how she received that necklace. "Mom was sixteen when her mother, Gran, gave her the necklace, I was sixteen when I received it; so, now I believe that it's time for me to pass the tradition on."

"But, I couldn't accept this. Mom gave it to you, and I know how much you love it." Caroline set her hands on her sister's small but strong shoulders. "You can and you will. Mom gave that to me because she wanted us to have a piece of her to survive and live with us when she died. She always used to tell me that the necklace," she tapped the cool metal border of the necklace gently with her finger, "would always protect me, as it has protected the women of her family for centuries."

"Gran always called it 'The Eye of Balance'." Caitlin murmured. "The sea and the earth meet to complete the circle."

Caroline nodded. "I guess you can look at it like that, but Gran was always superstitious. I used to think it was made for our family—the blue eyes of Mom's family and the green eyes of Dad's."

Caitlin sat, still as a statue and just as quiet, as she gazed at their family heirloom. Her sister didn't protest as Caroline carefully took it out of her hands and slipped it over her head. The Eye rested at the base of her chest like it had always belonged there.

Her sister's hand slowly crept up and wrapped around the necklace, clutching at the amulet like it was a lifeline. She took a steadying breath and nestled herself farther into her yellow and pink pillows before the tears began to fall down her face.

Caroline didn't offer any consolation. She couldn't think of anything to say that would comfort her sister.

"Mom would always say that you would protect me—us, our family—if anything would ever happen to her and Dad," Caitlin said, her voice thick with tears. She wiped at her eyes, brushing the big, watery tears off her face. "That's why I was mad, not because you couldn't make it, but because Mom and Dad and Charlie aren't here with us. Aunt Guinevere tries, but she's not Mom. She never will be. You're the only thing left that I have of Mom." She bit her lip as they began to quiver. "Even Chris doesn't like to talk about them. You're the only one who talks about them like they were here like it wasn't just a horrible dream I made up. That our parents were actually murdered, Charlie was murdered and that monster is still out there somewhere—"

"Stop," Caroline murmured.

She opened up her arms towards her sister and Caitlin crawled across the covers, burying herself in her arms like she used to when she was younger.

Caroline rocked back and forth gently, trying to soothe her sister as she sobbed. She pulled back a strand of her blonde hair and kissed her forehead gently like she was a China doll.

"Why did you change your name?" Caitlin whispered in between sobs, her voice breathy. "We...we all used to be the Hales. And then you took Mom's last name after everything. I never understood it."

Caroline's hand paused over her sister's head. She began to chew on her lip so hard, she could feel the skin stretching underneath her teeth, threatening to break.

Caroline Hale had died along with her parents and little brother six years ago.

She would never be the same person that she once was, and she just wanted to forget it all. So she took her mother's maiden name and never looked back. She thought it would've helped, at least make her feel better, but she still had that aching hole in her chest that would never ever go away.

She shut her eyes tightly as she felt the pain bubble in her—under her skin, in her chest, her lungs. It suffocated her. She took a deep breath.

Caroline will never go back.

"I know you want answers, Cait." She whispered so her voice wouldn't break as she resumed petting her sister's hair. "I wish I could give them to you, but some things are too hard to explain. But I promise you, when you're old enough and when we're both ready, I'll give them to you. But right now, we're just going to have to live with it."

Caitlin swallowed in between sobs and nodded, her breath evening out. "Okay."

As Caroline wiped away her sister's tears from her soft cheeks, Caitlin sat up and stared at her with those large green eyes that screamed of sorrow and terror.

She was sixteen and she already had the look of a tortured soul. It wasn't fair. She didn't deserve it, she was just a kid.

Caroline had been just a kid.

"Mom would've proud of you—is proud of you." Her sister said to her, giving her a small smile. "You're doing something she always wanted to do—help others. Even though your job sucks because you don't get to stay home, it makes a difference. You...you save lives." She sniffed and wiped her eyes again, trying to look as solemn as possible. "I am proud to be your sister and I am so glad, out of anyone I could've had as an older sister, that it was you."

Caroline bit her lip as she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She leaned over and pulled her sister into a tight hug, burying her face into her sister's shoulder.

"I love you." She murmured to her sister.

"I love you too, Care."

As she embraced her sister, she realized that, even though the man who had tortured and killed Caroline and her family was still out there, she wasn't alone. She may not have the answers Caitlin wants right now, that everyone wants. But hearing that her family was just as terrified as she was made her feel some kind of relief, in a weird way. She wasn't the only one.

She promised herself that no matter how far they went or what happened, she would protect and keep her family together.

Even if it was the last thing she did.