A/N: Couldn't help but wonder a little about the woman who was spared Hankel's wrath by shutting off her computer. Pure speculation, obviously, on my part about her in the second half of this story. Some spoilers for the episode itself as well.

"All right. I'll choose who lives," Reid said, making his particular choice of word at the end of his sentence very clear.

"All the same," Charles replied dismissively. For someone supposedly so smart, this boy really didn't get it. All the lies he told himself, all the arguments he made, none of them mattered. Someone would be dying tonight, one way or another.

Reid tried to count out the minutes in his head. Tried to see if there was any way he could figure out how to hold off on answering. Tobias might return soon. All of these people could be spared then.

Raphael might return, too, though.

Unfortunately, Charles was not a patient man, and Reid felt the sinister eyes boring into him, could sense the aggressive tension building yet again.

Finally, Reid spoke, cautiously daring to look up at Charles' face. "Far right screen," he noted quietly, nodding in the direction of the woman on the aforementioned computer.

Charles turned to observe her, too. "Marilyn David?" He rattled off the address then, knowing those who were listening in to their conversation would take it down. They watched as the woman walked over to her computer a few moments later, the screen suddenly going black shortly thereafter.

With that settled, Reid was left with these parting words from Charles. "You've done your part. Now it's my turn." All that remained now was the waiting. And the wondering.

The silence in the shed seemed deafening. The break allowed Reid to now become fully conscious of the pain shooting through his body. His foot stung. He could feel the dried, sticky blood on the side of his head. He alternated between warm and cold sweats. He'd long ago gotten used to the smell of animal innards…yet he still felt very queasy. Partly from the beatings to his body, partly from the constant "what ifs" running through his mind. What if the team can't find me? What if I wind up paralyzed?

…what if I never make it out of here…

Focus. Try and stay focused. Your mind cannot fail you now.

Reid's eyes traveled back to the screens yet again, immediately drawn to the darkened one.

Marilyn. In a way, he'd almost wished he hadn't learned her name.

She was young. The only one at her home, too, if the activity in the video was anything to go by. If anything happened to her at this unsub's hands, how long would she have to wait before help arrived? Before anyone noticed anything was even wrong?

She didn't deserve to die alone.

Reid then warily glanced at the other videos. There was somebody sitting at a table in one, a couple sitting on their couch in another. What were their names? What were their lives like? Why was Charles watching them?

Who will he pick?

Is he there yet? What time is it, anyway?

Maybe that couple could fight him off. Maybe they could try and protect each other, or one could escape and get help.

He easily killed the Kyles, though. Slaughtered them. And Dennis died first.

What about that third person? Do they have anyone to help them?

What does it matter whom he chooses? All the same, just like Charles (…Tobias. His name is Tobias…) said.

Reid's gaze flickered to the camera then as he tried to take his focus off the potential victims. Were his team doing anything to help these people, to warn them? Did they even hear the conversation between him and Charles? Are they still looking…

The shed grew increasingly dark, the space bitterly cold, as night continued to fall. Reid kept trying to count out how long he believed Charles to be gone, only to find himself losing track very quickly.

Then, finally, one form of agonizing torture ended. Only for another to follow right behind. A flash of black in a screen above caught Reid's eye.

When the woman jumped upon noticing the unknown man appear out of nowhere, so too did Reid.

When her eyes widened in horror as one of the man's arms stretched out towards her, a knife in his hand, so too did Reid's.

When she began to scream, Reid longed to do the same, only to find his throat was too dry, too worn out from his pleas and cries and screams. Instead, he remained mute, watching helplessly as the woman was yanked up from the couch and held in a tight grip, only to immediately collapse to the floor a few seconds later.

Reid trembled violently as he closed his eyes then. Tobias, Charles, Raphael, they could all come back and do what they wanted to him. He'd withstood so much thus far, he'd had years of practice confronting bullies and learning how to defend himself. He could take it.

He couldn't take this, though. There was no way he could ever stand to watch anyone else suffer. Especially if he himself was responsible for their pain.

Unfortunately, closing his eyes did him no good. The speakers may have been tiny, but he could still hear small echoes of screams. Still had to wait and wonder when it'd be safe for him to open his eyes…and what sight would await him when he did.

If only he'd kept his mouth shut. If only he'd tried to distract Charles. If only he'd suggested…other options…

"I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior."

"Wanted"...yes.

Marilyn David hummed as she set her grocery bags on the table, slowly pulling various items out and doing some haphazard organization. She was veering back and forth between excitement and nervous anticipation, and not just because she would be trying out a new recipe tonight for her guest.

Her boyfriend Scott was coming over tonight. He was finally getting a chance to come up for a visit, and they were planning to make a date night out of the occasion. Tonight was the first time they'd been truly "alone" in a while…and she knew that they wanted to make the most of the evening. Wanted to take that next step in their relationship. Despite his reassurances that just being with her was enough to make the night worthwhile, she still wanted everything to be special and perfect and wonderful anyway. Scott was a lovely man, and he deserved the best.

All she needed to do now was hear he'd made it into town safely. Preparing dinner would be a nice distraction in the meantime. She found her thoughts drifting as she pulled more stuff out. Hope he got a good tan. Wonder how that new job's going? Wait'll he hears about the concert that's coming our way soon…he'll be thrilled to know I got tickets…

Just then, the ringing of her phone snapped her out of her increasingly giddy reverie.

That's him! For some indescribable reason, though, instead of feeling excited, Marilyn briefly touched her stomach as a sudden sense of unease washed over her.

Oh, god…what if he's calling to tell me he's late? Or that he can't make it...

She hesitantly picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Marilyn David? This is Jason Gideon with the FBI…"

Marilyn froze at the mention of those three very intimidating letters. FBI? Is this some kind of joke?

"Turn off your computer."

"…what?"

"There's a hidden camera in there. You're being watched. I don't have much time to explain further. Just turn off your computer. Please."

Marilyn felt her blood run cold at the severe, commanding tone of the man on the other end of the line. She wanted to pry further, and yet she was quite sure she didn't want to know the answer. Instead, she simply did as she was told, trying to stay as quiet as possible in case her whole place was somehow bugged.

"Thank you, Marilyn. Can you do me another favor?" Hearing a hint of gentleness seep into his voice allowed her to finally ease her shoulders. A little.

Marilyn nodded, before realizing this man hearing her voice would probably be a good thing. "Yes. Anything." Stay calm. They're only trying to help.

"Check and make sure your doors are locked."

"Um…o-okay…" Now the terror flared up again. Is everyone okay? Is there some maniac out there right now? She briskly moved throughout her house, double checking every door, even every window. Maybe after the call she'd push a couple pieces of heavy furniture around, too.

After informing Gideon that her doors (and windows) were locked, after a few more somewhat comforting words and pieces of advice from the man, the call ended. Marilyn put her food away, her appetite now gone. She immediately called her parents first, checking on them, and then Scott, shaking with relief as she heard each of their voices.

Scott wanted to stay with her upon hearing the anxiousness in her voice – she hadn't told him what was up, so as to reassure him, but her secrecy only worried him more. Especially when she then insisted he stay away from her place for his own safety. He would go looking for a motel nearby, though, and made sure she had both his number and that of the place he'd be staying, just in case.

After all was said and done, Marilyn sat on her couch the rest of the night, too awake and filled with fear to even consider sleep. Her house was completely silent, allowing her to be alert to any unusual noises.

The next day, after the briefest of naps, the silence became too much for her, and she finally turned on her TV. She began flipping through the channels, searching for something to occupy her mind, no matter how mindless.

Footage of a crime scene caused her to stop, however.

"Tragedy strikes yet again, as local couple Pam and Mike Hayes were murdered in their home last night. Mike Hayes was a prominent defense attorney. This is the latest in a string of brutal murders that have swept the area in recent days…"

Marilyn stared at the screen in shock, shivering as a chill ran down her spine then. She knew. She couldn't explain how, exactly…but she knew. That was supposed to be me.

So many questions ran through her mind then – how the FBI knew, who tipped them off, how they were able to find and warn her. Why weren't these people warned? Her heart ached as she saw the Hayes' house surrounded by yellow tape. The realization that this lunatic was still out there only added to her dismay.

Did she dare celebrate the fact she was alive? That her loved ones were okay? Take comfort in the knowledge that the person she talked to was working with people who were aware of this predator, and would try and stop him? She'd be able to volunteer her help if needed now, after all, in order to catch this guy…and she'd be more than happy to do so. If it were anyone else in her shoes, they'd try and find the good in the situation, too. Wouldn't they?

Somebody had been looking out for her last night. She couldn't ignore that fact, even if she didn't understand why. As Marilyn lay back down on her couch, trying to take everything in, two words began repeating themselves in her mind over and over again.

Thank you.

As always, reviews/critiques/etc. are welcome!