A/N: I'm not normally one for large Author's Notes, so I'll try to keep them at a minimum! I hope to pepper a lot of Prentiss/Hotchner in this story, but keep it realistic at the same time. If anything, just know that I ship them!

This story does have some OC's. If you need help drawing a mental image, I kind of picture Bryce Dallas Howard as Molly. Just because she's awesome.

I'm want to keep everyone as in character as possible, so if you feel like I'm writing them please let me know!

I only like the Prentiss seasons, so anything Post-7 is nonexistent in this story. So sorry if that offends anyone!

The rain had been relentless for nearly three days. It blew across the streets of D.C horizontally due to the velocity of the winds that were coming off the East Coast. Schools had closed as well as most businesses.

It seemed that Quantico was the only operational facility within ten miles.

SSA Jennifer Jareau tried to keep her face passive as she entered the bullpen, crossing over towards her office. Storms didn't go over too well in her house. Henry, who had already reached the peak of his "clingy" stage, was also terrified of thunder. So not only was he sleeping between her and Will every night, but now there was a lot of screaming and crying involved with it.

She adored her son with every fiber of her being, but she had never been so pleased to send him with the nanny. She would probably need to give Annie a raise for having to deal with a sleep deprived five year old two days in a row, but it was well worth it.

Hoping to prolong the start of another wonderful day at the BAU, JJ took a detour over to the cluster of desks that housed most of her team. Only Reid and Morgan were present at that time, but that was no surprise considering that Emily Prentiss abhorred rain with every fiber of her being and would make a point of taking the longest amount of time possible to get to work.

Nobody really knew who she was proving a point to, but they allowed her to vent regardless lest they wanted to face her wrath one on one.

"I thought hurricane season ended last month." Morgan was pondering, staring out the windows. However, it was a useless endeavor what with the torrents of rain blocking his few.

"Actually, this would be considered a Nor'easter." Spencer offered his unsolicited correction. "Hurricanes move forward quickly, covering more land space; while Nor'easters have much slower wind speeds allowing them to remain in one area from anywhere between three or four days. Economically, they're considered a higher threat due to the isolated damage."

As usual, he saw a look of disinterest on his colleagues' faces rather than gratitude for imparting knowledge. With a tight smile, he quickly went back to fiddling with the neon Rubik's Cube Garcia had put on his desk the day before. It had given him something to do with his hands during their down time.

"Baby Girl!" Derek hollered at Penelope when she whisked into bullpen. "Are you sure we don't have any urgent cases in Miami or Key West?"

"Sorry my lovely, beautiful man. But it appears that the only action we'll be getting for the next few days is Hurricane Fuddy Duddy out there!" The blonde gestured towards the outside, shaking off her bright yellow raincoat.

Though they all heard Reid mutter "Nor'easter Fuddy Duddy" under his breath, they chose to ignore him. They weren't really in the mood for another meteorology lecture.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stay out here with you fine people, I have a stack of paperwork on my desk that's about yay high." JJ gestured with her hand right around her waist. Though it was a slight exaggeration, it was still at least a day's worth of work. "If anything exciting happens, you know where to find...me..."

She trailed off as she turned to move towards her office. A figure stood at the elevators, hobbling from one foot to another. At a glance, the woman looked to be just another soaking wet individual who was trying to warm up after escaping the storm. But after giving her a second glance, JJ noticed that red hair framing the stranger's face wasn't just hair.

It was blood.

"Hey." JJ nudged Morgan and nodded towards the woman who was still scanning the area frantically.

Derek stood up immediately and strode over to the elevators with Reid and JJ on his heels. Penelope observed from afar, curious to see what had happened to the poor creature, but not curious enough to get involved.

"Ma'am?" Derek kept his voice gentle as they approached.

The woman was obviously distraught. There were tears on her cheeks that were only made evident by the active stream coming from her bloodshot eyes. She was wringing her hands in front of her, trying in vain to dry them with one another. She was pale and there were hues of purple all over her bare arms and blue in her trembling lips.

"Ma'am," Derek repeated, holding out his arm but not touching her. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes continued to scan the bull pen. It was obvious that what she was looking for was nowhere to be found because her shoulders sagged and she turned her desolate gaze towards the three agents.

"Em...Emily Prentiss?" Her voice was soft but obviously hoarse. She sniffled and waved her hand around. "Is she still...Does Emily Prentiss still..."

Noticing how hard it was for her to form a complete thought, let alone a sentence, Derek nodded and turned his hand so that it was palm up. "Yeah, Agent Prentiss works here." He told her with a gentle smile. "She's running a little late, but we can find somewhere warm for you to rest until she gets here."

The woman's eyes flickered to his hand briefly before she tilted her head back towards the elevators. "I...I need to speak to...to Emily..."

Her voice was so pained, so desperate, that JJ felt all the more inclined to help her. "She'll be here soon. The rain's just holding her up." She said quietly, moving around Morgan. "Are you okay?"

The stranger's eyes softened at the sight of a fellow female. Though it was only fractionally, her posture relaxed. But she continued with her urgent request. "Emily..."

Other agents in the bullpen began to approach. Not wanting the woman to startle any further, JJ gestured towards the desks they had just come from. "Why don't you wait for her at her desk?" She offered, touching the woman's cold arm. "I can get you something warm to drink while you wait for her."

Just get her to relax. Was all of their first instincts. Then they can figure out what to do.

A moment passed, and without so much as a nod, the woman followed after Morgan and JJ with only a little hesitation. Reid lagged behind, hoping to assess her demeanor from her stride. He was thrown off by her very obvious, but contained limp. He chose to bite back his questions regarding that particular injury.

JJ her settle into Prentiss's chair while Garcia scurried off towards the break room to retrieve the promised hot beverage. Morgan had disappeared into Hotch's office to inform him of their visitor.

The two men were now standing on the walkway, observing the terrified woman.

"Did she give a name?" Hotch asked quietly.

"No. All she said was that she needed to speak to Prentiss."

"She's not wearing a guest badge, so she somehow bypassed security." The Unit Chief said. "It appears that she's not a threat, but something is definitely off."

"Should we call Prentiss?" Morgan asked.

Before an answer could be issued, the elevator dinged and out stepped a frustrated Prentiss with an inside out umbrella. "Second one this week." She announced to no one in particular, tossing the offending object into the large trash can right inside the bullpen. "Remind me again why we don't have an open bar in this building?"

Her exasperated smile was directed at JJ and Garcia, who were hovering by her desk. Her female teammates seemed a little on edge as she drew closer and she was just opening her mouth to call them out on it, when she saw the redhead sitting in her seat.

One. Two. Three. Four seconds it took her. Four seconds to register who it was. After nearly a decade, her face was just as she remembered it.

"Molly?" She gasped, dropping her bag and staring.

Despite her earlier insistence, the woman shrunk back nervously, intertwining her fingers so tight that her knuckles were turning white. "H...Hi."

Trying to swallow her shock, Emily turned to her teammates none of whom had moved from the positions they had been in when she came in. Realizing that they weren't going to be of very much help, she once again faced the blast from her past.

"What are you doing here?" It was meant to come out as a simple question, but her naturally sharp voice made it sound more like a demand. Wincing, she tried to correct it, "I mean...Why...why...What are you doing here?"

"I'm so sorry to bother you." It was the woman's first full sentence. She was still shaking, but after swallowing and taking a deep breath, she was able to compose herself. "It was...It's an emergency."

"I can see that, what the hell happened?" Prentiss reached up to touch the cut on her head. "You're bleeding."

"That's nothing." Molly touched Emily's hand to stop its advance. "I...I crashed my car."

"You crashed your car?"

"Right outside of Pennsylvania. I'm sure it's still there."

"Was anyone else hurt?"

"No. I hit a tree." Molly rubbed her aching head and her knees jiggled nervously. "Emily. I need your help. They took him!"

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Emily looked to JJ who shrugged.

"Who took who Molly?" She asked, stepping closer to the younger woman.

"Flynn. They took Flynn." She let out a sob and covered her mouth, as though saying it aloud had been what finally broke the seal.

Hearing this, Emily didn't need be filled in anymore. She let out a silent curse and quickly turned towards Hotch, her eyes pleading. Using his incredible gift of insight, her boss nodded and motioned for the team to follow him into the conference room.

"Molly, come with me." Prentiss extended her hand. "We'll figure this out, okay?"

Nodding, Molly stood up on shaky legs and grasped onto Emily's fingers. She couldn't speak, as the emotions continued to course through her. So she simply let the Agent lead her.

/

She kept her head lowered, avoiding eye contact with the five strangers who she had joined at the table. Emily had left the room with the bespeckled blonde woman almost immediately after she'd led Molly to sit down.

It had been nearly five minutes of painfully awkward silence. Occasionally one of the men would clear their throats while the kind woman from before sat on her left hand side, offering silent comfort. She appreciated that more than anything else.

Emily came back in with the file that Garcia had helped her quickly gather up. She gave Molly a regretful look before setting the thick folder down on the table and sliding it to Hotch.

"Missing child, ten years old." She said, shortly. "He's more than likely in the hands of some very dangerous people, so whatever we do, we have to act fast."

"Your son?" JJ asked the shaken woman.

Molly tapped her fingers against her lower lip, closing her eyes and ducking her head in way of an affirmative response.

"When did you last see him?" Morgan asked.

She spared him a small glance before biting her lip and looking to Emily. "Last Wednesday." She whispered, anticipating the response.

"Last Wednesday, as in eight days ago?" Rossi leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbow on the table. Though his tone was far from harsh, his words cut through Molly's heart.

"He wanted to go ice fishing." She stared at her hands, willing herself not to cry anymore. She hadn't had anything to eat or drink for days and she was on the precipice of dehydration. "There's a pond in the woods behind our house, I told him he could go but to be back in two hours. After eight hours, I knew something was wrong."

Morgan's jaw hung open. He let out a small huff and did his very best not to upset the fragile woman any further. "Why...Why didn't you contact the authorities."

"If I tried to call you, they would have known." Molly said across the table to Emily. "They would have tracked me down and killed me before I could even try to save Flynn. Then they could have gone after you."

"Why not contact the local police?" Hotch asked evenly.

"I am the local police." Molly told him. "We live in a small border town. Only a handful of Inuits and Bush people live there. I'm the only law enforcement for miles and I've never needed my gun."

"You're a cop?" Morgan couldn't stop the skepticism.

"She was the head of her class at the academy." Prentiss stopped that train before it left the station. Molly's son was missing and she was in a state just beyond shocked. Now was not the time to be judging a book by its cover.

Finally, Rossi asked the question that had been plaguing most all of them. He hovered his hand out in front of him, halting any other comments that could have been made at that point, and turned to Prentiss. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but how do you two know each other?"

Tried as they might have, not one of them recognized the woman, and yet she seemed quite close to their teammate of over eight years.

Emily, who was hoping to deal with those questions at another time, lowered her head. She didn't want Molly to have to rehash a lot of old drama just so her colleagues could have a little backstory. But this was the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Their job was based on details and backstories.

"Molly's my sister-in-law." She finally answered, cringing at the stunned silence that followed.

"You're married?" Reid asked after a beat.

"What? No!" Emily stood up straight and gave the genius a disgusted glare. "She was married to my brother."

"Was?" JJ arched and eyebrow.

Before Emily could elaborate, Molly spoke up. "Nick died about...a while back." She also didn't want to divulge too much.

Though she appreciated their sympathetic looks and noises, she couldn't stop her eyes from rolling. She looked to Prentiss who had tightened her lips and was rocking back and forth on her heals.

Deciding to get back to the important matter at hand, Molly produced a picture from her purse and handed it to JJ to pass around. "That's the latest picture I have of Flynn." She sniffled, watching as the agents each took their turns staring at her son's angelic, freckled face. "It was taken six months ago, but he hasn't changed much since then."

She looked hopefully at Emily who gave her a reassuring nod.

"My brother started working in a pretty shady gambling ring right after he graduated college." The raven haired agent began to explain. "He and his associates eventually began to dabble in the art of contract killing when debts went unpaid."

It was said so casually, that for a moment they felt like they were hearing about any other UNSUB. Not the late sibling of one of their agents. Judging by her flippant attitude, it became clear to everyone that she was at the very least, detached from the man her brother was. In any case, she didn't appear to be very bothered by drudging it all up.

"Is that what got him killed?" Morgan asked.

"No." Emily replied shortly before continuing, "These men harassed Molly daily after Nick died. They would call her everyday regarding the money that was owed to them. When she wouldn't answer the phone, they'd make house calls."

"It wasn't until they threatened to take Flynn as collateral that I got out of town." Molly told them. "We've been living in the Alaskan Tundra for eight years now. I thought it was over. But they found us. Found him."

Despite her best efforts, she began to cry again. Her body and mind were exhausted, but she wouldn't stop until they found him.

"Do you have any names?" Rossi asked after giving her a moment. He hoped she could hear him over her wheezing sobs.

Molly took a tissue from the box that JJ had offered her and shook her head as she wiped her nose. "I don't know their individual names. They all had aliases. But they work for a larger operation called Red Card." She scoffed and gave Emily a look. "It was being passed off as a recreational conglomerate, but it was so obvious."

"A large group of Russian men in the middle of Wyoming should have been clue number one." Prentiss said in ways of agreeance. "Nick wrote to our mother one time when he dug himself in too deep. He said something about his boss...Gumble...Gipple...?"

"Gimbel was his last name I think." Molly recalled. "But he died the week after Nick."

Realizing that left them with nothing, Hotch sat back in his chair and told Garcia to call and have them get the jet ready.

"Where are they going?" Molly asked, looking to Emily with wide eyes. She didn't know what she expected to do when she got to Quantico, but she was at least hoping they'd give her a chance.

"We're going to Alaska." Emily said, helping her stand up. "We're going to get him back Molly."

Of course, she held the same doubt in her heart that she did when other children went missing. They say that the first 24 hours are the most detrimental-that the longer it went past that the more likely the child was dead. So what did eight days mean? What would have happened to Flynn after nearly 200 hours?

It was obvious that Molly was thinking along those lines as well, so Prentiss decided to play it half cup full for this case.

She would find her nephew.

/

When he was little, he remembered his mom rescuing a small wolf cub from a trap in the woods. It was in the middle of a rough winter and the animal reserve was filled with injured animals, so they kept the puppy at their home for a couple of months.

It was kept in a kennel in their kitchen with thick fleece blankets and a bowl that was always filled with water.

The kennel he was in now was maybe a little smaller than the wolf cubs, but the water bowl was about the same size. There were no blankets though. Just a flattened cardboard box and a leaking sandbag. He was in a closet with no door and a blinking fluorescent light overhead.

"Please. Please let me go." He whimpered, wrapping his fingers around the thin rusty bars. He had always tried to be tough, for his mom. But he was having trouble not crying after being trapped for so long. "I need to see my mom. She'll be so worried!"

He could see the top of a man's head sitting in the next room-maybe the living room? It moved occasionally as he sipped from the can of beer, but it never looked away from the bright light of the television.

"Please." Flynn cried again, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. "Mommy...Mommy!"

/

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