"So you are saying that you were kidnapped at Embrey Mill, correct?" 

"I was- I was kidnapped there, yes." She stutters, twiddling with her fingers as she speaks.

"Would you be willing to tell us a bit more?" JJ pries, leaning towards Erin to offer a sense of comfort despite the essence of the situation.

"I was at Embrey Mill. My boyfriend at the time had a track meet. I loved him so much, but he was abusive. He had never been physically abusive to me, but he was always verbally abusive. I feared the day he would come and do something horrible to me, but I couldn't leave him. I loved him so much, and that part of me was incapable of letting go of him." She pauses in order to swallow. "It sounds bad, I know, but it was harder than it looked. Anyway, I was taking a smoke outside the stadium and saw a middle aged man watching me. I mean he was watching me with this sort of pleading look. Something didn't seem right. He looked confused, so I asked him if he needed help. That was the first thing I did wrong. He looked me up and down and offered the ugliest smirk possible. I cringed, but continued to remain beside him. He claimed he didn't know where the restrooms were, so I led him there. Before I knew it, I blacked out and the last thing I remember was him leaning over to watch me as I tumbled to the ground."

Erin excuses herself for a moment to go to the bathroom. She sounds congested and stressed, so  the team lets her remove herself from the setting for a moment. She crosses her robe over her chest and scurries to the restroom that lay directly across the living room. The team makes eye contact and ponders about the situation.

"She's quite unsettled." Hotch sighs, leaning onto the couch for a millisecond and then quickly sitting back up.

"I know. Can you blame her though? Her stutter and overall unsettlement derives from what she went through. It is a common symptom of incidents like the one she experienced." Spencer adds, moving his hands around in the air as he speaks.

It has been a good ten minutes since she left to go to the bathroom. Her implication of heading to the restroom seemed as though it was going to be rapid, when in reality, she still is no where in sight.

"JJ. Will you go check on Erin?" Hotch asks.

"Of course."

Hotch glances over at Spencer and catches him watching closely as JJ walks away. Although he is oblivious to what he is doing, Hotch can barely contain himself. A smirk slips and Spencer turns quick enough to see the look on his face.

"Erin?" JJ knocks on the door.

There is no answer, so she knocks a couple more times. Alex's fiancé instinct must have kicked in at the very moment JJ sighed.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" Alex questions.

"Erin has been in the bathroom for a while now. She made it sound like she would be quick, but it has been a long time." JJ explains.

"Oh, this happens often." Alex begins to unlock the door with his nail and leans closer to JJ and whispers, "Most of the time she is just thinking rather than actually going to the bathroom."

JJ allows a quick smile to appear on her lips before Alex opens the door. Alex gasps and his eyes grow wide. JJ holds eye contact with Alex for a moment and her face falls.

"Holy shit, Erin!"  He shouts, leaping into the bathroom and kneeling beside her. 

Frantic, Alex runs a hand over his wife's chest in hopes of feeling a heartbeat. His eyes are still as wide as ever, and he can't sit still.

"Erin, please." He begs. "This should have never happened. She was doing better, I swear. I-" He chokes on his words as tears fall.

On the counter, a bottle of fentanyl lay toppled over. JJ lets out a sad sigh and walks out of the room. Spencer and Hotch look eager to hear what just happened.

"She killed herself." JJ mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

Hotch and Spencer make brief eye contact before Hotch excuses himself to notify the police.

Alex is sobbing and cradling his late wife in his arms. He continues to whisper words of encouragement and love even though her senses are long gone. JJ and Spencer watch from afar as Alex's pain radiates.

JJ and Spencer are not paying attention to each other, but their hands are inching towards each other. Whether it is a reaction to the sudden death or a result of their eternal sexual tension remains unknown. Before their fingers can interlace with one another, Hotch stomps back into the home, informing them that the police are on their way.

"Well, we only have Abigail to rely on now." Luke groans, resting his head against the headrest of the carseat. 

"Oh no, what happened?" Emily questions, concerned at Luke's comment.

"Erin committed suicide while the three of them were in the home. It looks like it just happened." Luke explains.

"Did they get the chance to speak with her or ask any questions? I mean, she must have had a lot on her plate."

"Barely. She got to the part where he kidnapped her and the rest is history. We have to make sure we can get all the information we can from Abigail. If we can't, we have no way of identifying who Bridget's kidnapper is. Let's just be positive about this situation. She is our last chance, but I have a feeling she will give us something." Luke smiles and pats Emily's leg before standing up.

They both are silent as they make their way to Abigail's apartment. Luke knocks on the door and takes a half step back. They wait for a couple seconds, and the door swings open revealing a smiling young woman.

"Hi, are you Abigail Schultz?" Emily asks, showing her badge.

Abigail glances left and right and then steps out of the doorway and onto the porch. She closes the door lightly and puts her focus on the two strangers standing in front of her.

"Uh yes, I am Abigail. Who are you?"

"We are with the BAU in Quantico. I am Agent Emily Prentiss and this is Agent Luke Alvez. We are here to speak to you about an event that happened in your past."

Abigail blinks and glances to the left as she thinks. It takes her a moment to realize what they are referring to.

"My kidnapping? Oh my god, I haven't talked about that in a while. Honestly, I have pushed it aside more than I'd like to admit, but I would be willing to tell you my story. If you don't mind me asking, why are you curious about the incident?"

Emily and Luke are relived to have someone who is willing to share their story with them. Although they were speaking to her for a couple seconds already, the agents are positive that they are capable of retrieving some evidence that would contribute to finding the kidnapper. Deep down inside, Emily is beyond grateful for this small chance of hope in order to find her beloved daughter. 

"A seventeen year old girl named Bridget just went missing the other day. We believe she could have been kidnapped by the same man that kidnapped you as well." Emily describes.

"Oh God, that's awful. You know, now that you say that, I thought I heard or saw something on the news regarding a teen girl going missing. That's gotta be awful for the parents . . . I mean my parents-" She turns and puts a fist to her mouth to stifle any signs of sadness. "Excuse me, I am sorry. Uh, please, come inside." 

Luke steps inside while Emily reminds on the porch going bug-eyed as she thinks about her daughter. The urge to tell Abigail that she is the mom of the missing teen is more extrusive than ever. Her pain is stronger than it has been, and she has to take a moment to straighten herself out. Luke puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her it will be okay. Emily purses her lips and nods. She takes large strides and beats Luke inside.

Luke and Emily sit at the petite coffee table, and Abigail hands each of them a glass of water. Once she places the glasses on the table, she slides a chair over from the other end of the room.

"So, what do you guys want to know? I am more than willing to tell you my story. It's, um, frightening to say the least, but if this will help find the missing girl, I am an open book."

"Great!" 

"The only problem I have is that it may be a bit difficult to recall some details, but like I said, I will do my best."

"Don't worry. We will help you walk through what happened. We do this special trick in order to help you remember the incident. We promise you will not get hurt and we will be right here, alright?" Luke clarifies.

"As long as I will be okay physically, I am ready to do whatever it is you need." 

"We appreciate your compliance more than you know." Emily thanks with a smile.

"Okay, Abigail, I am going to have you close your eyes. Now think about the incident. What do you smell? What do you see? How's the weather?"

"It's-it's cold out, that's for sure."

**ABIGAIL POV

The powerful wind causes the trees to sway like a young child stuck in wavy waters. My hair is long and chestnut brown again. My nails are painted a baby blue, and I am wearing the silver ring my grandmother gave me before she moved to Texas. 

Kids are giggling around me and playing a game of tag. I watch them as they run across the lawn, worries and responsibilities are the last thing on their minds. I miss that time of my life even though it seems like it was just yesterday. I smile to myself and pull out my Vera Bradley lunch box. I ate most of my lunch today, but I am beyond hungry. I reach and pull out a bag of crackers. I whisper the quietest yes ever and somehow a man hears me. 

"Crackers huh?" He comments looking at me and then the bag of crackers I just pulled out of my bag.

"Yeah." I laugh awkwardly, unzipping the Ziploc bag.  

Instead of going on with his day, the man sits across from me. He appears to be an older man, and I have never seen him before. My school and parents have prepared me for instances like this, so I quickly begin to put on a play of my own.

"Oh, my phone is ringing, one moment." I stand up, taking all my belongings with me.

I pull out my phone, look back at the man, and then sprint. I run so ferociously that my lungs ache within seconds. I am so unfit, but I am not about to be god-knows-what by this man. I keep my eyes straight ahead when all of a sudden I am forced to the ground with an unknown force; the smell of sage surrounding me. My last blurry vision is of the man I just saw.

For someone so old, he can sure run fast.

I wake up, but I feel so odd. To my complete and utter surprise, I am in my own home. I am about  to rejoice when I sense someone watching me. I turn, but I am forced to stay in the exact position I am in. Feeling confused about my restraint, I look down and notice ropes tied around my wrists. I panic and attempt to free my arms and legs, but I am completely incapable of moving any of my limbs. My breathing becomes rapid, and I grow anxious.

"Let me out!" I shout angrily.

The man laughs at me and walks around me in a circle.

"Not yet." He whispers in a slippery, raspy voice.

Just as he finishes speaking, I spot a large shadow in the corner of the room. I gasp and try to look around for my parents. They are nowhere to be seen at the moment and I am confused. They can definitely hear me speaking and have to know that someone is in the house with me. I hear a gurgle and snarl and realize that there is some sort of monster. I scream and call out for help.

"I need a weapon. I need something." I shout, my eyes scanning the room for something to use for defense.

"Hey, it's okay. I got you, Abigail."

He knows my name? I just met this weird man, and he knows my name. I excuse that thought almost as soon as it travels through the nooks and crannies of my mind.

He hands me some sort of gun and I play around with it for a moment before doing anything. I have never held a gun before. This is odd. So this lever causes a bullet to be released? Interesting. As long as it protects me from this monster, I am all for it.

"Thank-thank you. I don't want to die." I admit, thanking the same man who kidnapped me. 

Adrenaline runs through me as I think about saving not only my life, but this man's life too. I am about to become a real hero. I figure out where to place my fingers, and I feel like a real badass. Something does not sit right about shooting something, but I suck it up. I am facing a situation regarding life or death. This is up to me. My decision. I can do it. I am only seventeen, I can't die yet!

The monster progresses towards me, and I clench my eyes shut and pull the trigger. The monster lets out the most horrifying sound of pain I have ever heard and I scream as loud as I ever have. 

"YEAH!" The man shouts, cheering me on for killing this creature.

His excitement seems so . . . odd for a situation as such.

That is when I see red and blue lights reflect from the front door. I am confused on why the police are here, but then I realize that the stranger probably called them to help us. 

Before the cops enter the home, something knocks me out cold for the second time.

** 3RD PERSON POV

Abigail begins to break down once her story comes to an end. Luke and Emily are satisfied with the notes they received, but they make sure to comfort Abigail.

"Is that everything? If it is, that is perfect. You did a great job, Abigail. You should be proud of yourself." Luke extends a hand.

"No, not exactly." She answers, blowing her nose.

Emily and Luke exchange glances for the hundredth time. Emily already brainstormed a question hours ago and is nearly off of her chair while waiting to ask.

"There was no monster, you see." She adds.

The agents already know where this is going. Hotch was right. This man is a Mr. Scratch imitator, and they both know that this case is destined to be a lot more complicated than they anticipated.

"I-I killed my brother." She admits, crying hysterically. "I didn't even know. The fact that I perceived him as a monster is what kills me the most. I would have never killed him. I loved him. The monster though . . . he taunted and mimicked me. He lifted my shirt up and laughed at my weight. He threatened to take off every item of clothing. He wanted to humiliate me to the best of his abilities. He laughed at me and called me a pig over and over again. I will admit that I was a bit heavier back than, but that hurt me, you know? The last thing a teenage girl wants to hear is that she is fat."

"Abigail, do you remember his name?"

She bites her lip and closes her eyes. While she thinks, she picks at a hangnail on her left hand."

"I think it was Ken or Kyle? Something like that."

"God dammit."

"Luke, we've got a hell of a lot of information to fill the team in on."