𝔸𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕠𝕟

𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕙𝕝𝕪

[Emma's POV] 

Penelope had her work cut out for her. Really, I mean it. Y/n is a very private person. Everything you'd want to know, you'd have to dug further and further to find it out. Which makes sense knowing her because she was like that. 

Cut off from the rest of the world. Even Elizabeth was willing to admit to it. Her own best friend knew that Y/n was a glass half full. Revealing so little,  but it felt like a lot. 

And right now, something like that sucks, because it means we have no idea how to go on about this. I certainly want to just roll over and cry and never stop, I let this happen. I let Davon distract me... from her. I ruined my chances. And now she's slipping further from me.

Penelope spent an hour digging and came up with nothing. Her brother, her mother, her father, nothing. She went to jail and that was the only record that we really had. It's like her life before was dormant. Or non-existing. She was a ghost of the past. 

A past we really needed access to because it's really the only way we'd ever really find her. 

"She's just...gone," Emily said. "We only know of her record." Repeating things we already knew. "Not of what happened to her. Or who happened." 

"She wanted it that way," Derek pointed out. "Closed-off. No connections. She wanted a new life."

"She already had that!" I snapped. I gained my composure. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," JJ said. "We're all under stress. It's never easy when one of us goes missing. We'll figure this out." She gave me a smile. 

"It's Y/n," Reid contiued. "She's too stubborn to let anything bad happen to her." 

[Y/n's POV]

"What the fuck is she doing?" He asked. 

"Sir... she's singing the entire lyrics to Blank Space, by Taylor Swift." 

"I fucking know that!" He snapped. "Why?!" 

"With all due respect," the guy started. "It's a great song."

"I didn't fucking ask if it was a great song!" He yelled. "I want to know why the fuck this psychotic bitch is singing it while shes being tortured?"

He didn't say anything. I continued to sing the entire 1989 album. Motherfuckers. 

[Elizabeth's POV] 

Some of the most unimportant work is done on the most unimportant people. Like, Davon. I'd rather not spend a whole evening going over ways to prevent him getting sent threatening messages. 

There really is nothing. Blocking. But if they're persistent-- which they are-- they aren't going to let up. Including for an FBI agent. 

This fucking moron didn't really understand that. What did Emma see in this guy? I saw air and expensive clothes to try and hide him being a douche bag (news flash didn't work). 

"Could it be the same person?" he asked. I nodded. 

"Odds are. I mean, look at the time stamps on the messages," I said. I moved the phone towards him. I pulled up a screenshot of the messages Y/n sent me. "Minutes after." 

"Enough time."

"Exactly." 

I didn't receive the call until the well hours of the evening. There wasn't anything I could do, that's what they said. Someone kidnapped her, when I was supposed to be meeting her. Damn Davon. He might have been an asshole but he didn't see this coming.