I woke up to running to the bathroom and throwing up. I groaned into the toilet. It was 5 in the morning, what a great start. My phone started to go off.

"Hello?" I answered, still hovering over the toilet.

"You sound happy." I heard Luke chuckled. "How you been?" He's been at work for a week now, starting to miss him. Its weird to not have him here. I miss the dork.

"I shouldn't have that left over pizza."

"What did I say, and say it with me, dont eat pizza thats been in the refrigerator for a week." I slowly shake my head.

"Such a comedian." Luke was on a case in Texas. Since hes been gone and ive been alone in the house since then. I miss the goofball. "Im going to bed, maybe it'll go away."

"Take some sprite okay, you know that they work."

"Si amor, i will."

"Love you."

"Love you more." I hung up and placed the phone on the sink, throwing up again. That pepperoni pizza was funky yesterday. I heard a buzz. I reached up and saw a text from JJ. A case. I groaned into the toilet, and got ready for work. I wasn't in the mood, i out my sunglasses on, drank some sprite, which made me feel a little better.

"Back it up." Morgan stops me as I passed his desk. "Hung over?"

"Bad pizza." I took the last sip from the can.

"Hazel you look-" Emily smiles.

"Like shit? Yeah I know." I placed my sunglasses on my desk and looked at Hotch who was going into the conference room. "Lets get this show on the road." I drum my desk and headed up. Derek and Emily stayed behind, looking at me. They knew something was up.

We got a case from Kansas city. Detective McGee came here saying there is people disappearing. 63 people missing. 63 people is a lot and nobody noticed, nobody? Nobody was dead, no john and jane doe's.

The detective showed up with journals about the missing people. Hotch and Jj and him went to Kansas City while the rest of us stayed back. If they invite us in, thats when we can go in. Derek, Emily, Spencer and I wrote down every single name on the the board, looking.

"Damn. That is a lot of people." I crossed my arms as Derek put the last note card up.

"Homeless men, homeless women, runaways, prostitutes, and drug users."

"Can all of their disappearances be a coincidence?"

"Yeah, technically it wouldn't really be a coincidence since a number of these people share high-risk traits, which throws the curve off. You see, the word "coincidence" implies more-"

"Hey, kid," Derek stops Reid. "we do not need a vocabulary lesson right now."

"Right. Sorry."

"What was it the Yorkshire Ripper said about his victims?" I asked him looking back at the cards.

"The women I killed were filth, b*st*rd prostitutes that were littering the streets. I was just cleaning up the place a bit."

"He's a housecleaner." Emily and I dropped our mouths. How? That quick? Damn Derek.

"Mission-based killer who believes his murders are helping society."

"These guys devolve rapidly until they're just killing machines."

"And our hands are tied by jurisdictional concerns?"

"Well, what are we supposed to do? If we don't follow the city's jurisdiction, no one's gonna ever ask us for help." I said, sitting back.

"We do it by the book. Then we pray. That no one else gets hurt in the meantime." My stomach started to do its thing.

"Hang on." I ran out of the room and into the bathroom. I pulled back my hair and started throwing up. Im already sick about this. I flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth. Emily came in.

"You okay?" I spit the water out, wiping the water on my lips with my arm.

"We got those days." I joked.

"You want something? I think I got some medicine in my bag."

"Im good thanks. Sprite is the only thing thats making me feel better."

"Come on, I'll get you one." We went to the vending machine and Emily bought me two cans. We headed back to the conference room.

"You good?" I nodded my head, taking a sip.

"Lets just get this case ready in case they call us."

—

"Any news?" Gideon came charging in.

"Haven't heard from Hotch or J. J. Garcia went through all the names but couldn't find a single report to hang an investigation on."

"We've been compiling preliminary profile thoughts based on the limited victimology that we have."

"Profile? We don't even have this case yet."

"We just want to be prepared in case we are called in." I told him.

"We don't have enough other work to do?"

"Gideon, he's a housecleaner."

"With 63 potential victims." He sighs and takes a seat.

"What have you come up with so far?"

—

"B. A. U."We made it to Kansas city since now the the case is federal.

"I'm Jason Gideon. Agents Morgan, Prentiss, Santos and dr. Reid." Gideon introduced us.

"Captain alright." We shook hands with him.

"If you, uh, want to get your squad together, captain, we could start giving the profile." Hotch comes in.

"Already?"

"We've been working on it all day." Reid nods.

"Oh, have you, now?" I can tell he didn't want us here at all.

"Just out of an abundance of preparedness, yeah."

"Give me a few minutes, guys, huh?" He walks away.

"I'm not sure if he's really ok with this, or he's sure we're wrong and wants to see us embarrass ourselves."

"They way he uses his sarcasm, he doesn't want us here." I said as I looked at Hotch. Everyone looked at me. "What? Im the queen of sarcasm."

"We're going to provide a psychological profile of the man we're looking for. It contains some unusual, specific personality traits that someone out there is bound to recognize." We started the profile as officers came in.

"Which will make him relatively easy to locate. Long-lasting, negative impression he leaves on anyone he might meet."

"We have a term for the killing behavior this unsub displays- Cleaning house- fixing what's wrong with the world."

"He's deeply rationalized this behavior, and while he certainly knows the killing is wrong, he truly believes that he's doing the world a great service."

"Ultimately, this type of unsub becomes a loner. There will not be too many people that can still tolerate him. Now, if he does have a relationship at all, the person will not be his equal. It'll be someone subservient to him."

"He'll be fastidious, tending toward obsessive compulsive disorder, and he'll have an overwhelming sense of indignation towards the things that he's judged to be wrong. He wouldn't even consider the reasons why someone might disagree with him."

"He sounds like a real jagoff." One officer calls out.

"Exactly. Class-a scumbag." I looked at him.

"Detective McGee started noticing the disappearances a year ago. The unsub probably had a stressor at this time- the death of a family member or someone who had some semblance of control over him. Right now, no one has control over him."

"It's probable that he isn't currently working after this many victims And the devolution that it brings a job just wouldn't leave him time to practice his true calling."

"Which is?"

"A predator, a killing machine. By now, it's become all he thinks about." We headed out to the streets, asking around. Nobody wanted to talk, as usual.

"Yeah. You make the people around you feel good." I heard Emily say to Derek.

"Well, he's no Charlie Chaplin." Hotch said. I put my hands in my pockets.

"Again with the Chaplins." Morgan groans.

"How'd you guys do?" I asked them.

"Well, Reid got propositioned by every prostitute we talked to but we didn't find anybody who thinks they'd seen the unsub."

"Same story with us."

"I saw Gideon and McGee a block back. They hadn't had any luck, either." I pointed out.

"It's odd. If the unsub were out here, he'd stand out. You know, people would recognize the description."

"So where does that leave us?"

"Right where I thought we were." The captain came behind us with JJ.

"Captain?"

"You said this guy would definitely be memorable. You were adamant. So if no one out here remembers him, according to you, he doesn't exist."

"That's not exactly what we said, but-"

"It's what you implied."

"Then what do you think happened to them, captain?" I frowned.

"I told you, I don't think anything happened to them."

"Oh, that's right. You think they all got houses and jobs." And here we go Hotch. They were arguing.

"Ok, all this means is we have another piece of the puzzle here. Someone got over 60 street-smart people out of here and no one noticed."

"It's almost like he blended in."

"It's more than that. It's like he must somehow belong."

"Like he's here all the time."

"Like social services."we all turned to Morgan. "Captain Wright." He hums. "Does your social services department patrol around?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do they drive around in the middle of the night looking for people to help?"

"No. They have to be called, and then-" Morgan ran. He sprinted away. Hotch and I ran after him. Calling him and he kept running. As Derek talked to the women, he heads to the driver, asking him questions. The man got nervous and stepped on it. Morgan jumps in the car and stops him.

"Morgan!" He then crashes the car. He pulls him out of the van. We got the man and brought him into questioning.

I watched Hotch and the others coming out of the interrogation room.

"His name is Charles Holcombe. He owns the old meatpacking plant. Thats where hes keeping them." We all ran out and headed there. I strapped my vest on. We walked in and saw him holding a knife to the victim.

"Charles Holcombe! FBI Don't do it." We called out, surrounding him.

"Let me do my job!" We all fired at him, him dropping dead. I put away my gun and checked. Dead. The victim cries as they took her away.

—

We headed back home. Decided to have a little movie night with the team, watching Charlie Chaplin. We all laughed and throw popcorn at each other. I even saw Gideon laugh, shocker.

"We have to do this again." I smirked as I walked with the team to our cars.

"Definitely a girls night." Penelope smiles.

"Count us in!" JJ laughs. We all got into our cars and drove home. I stopped by a walgreens to pick up some milk and some Candy that Gerardo asked to get him.

"Yeah Gerardo, Im getting it now. You'll stop by tonight." I said through the phone, talking to my bratty brother. "See you later." I gathered my things and headed to the medicine aisle. I scanned through the medicines. I grabbed some Ibuprofen, putting it in my basket. I stopped as I saw the pregnancy tests. My mouth opened slightly. I touched the box.

"Sick huh?" I jumped from the voice of a woman behind me. "They do bring a lot of joy." She then walks away. I grabbed three boxes and checked out. Driving home, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Is it really happening? Like really?