A/N: I forgot to mention this earlier, but this story was inspired by the multiple crossover fics I've seen around lol. I really love both shows, so it seemed perfect. I have already typed up the last chapter so we gucci. ALSO, there is no 'set' time for this fic (I know some people like to imagine the characters in certain ways). Ok that's all. I hope you enjoy :)
Hotch was doing everything in his power to distract himself from the painful thoughts piercing his mind, but with every passing hour it became worse. Most of those thoughts were of you.
You haven't called in almost four days. If you missed one or two days, then fine. You're an adult, but you have never left a message unread or not called back for so long. Especially when it comes to him.
That worry came to a head today; the day you were supposed to be back. He was almost antsy to see you. To make sure you were alright. One minute turned to an hour, then one hour to two. Eventually, the whole day went by, stealing glances towards your desk and the door, but nothing.
"Hey, has anyone heard from (Y/N)?" Emily asked, sitting on her desk as if ready to leave. Everyone looked at each other, shaking their heads.
"Not for a few days," Rossi said, knowing this wasn't good.
"Me, too. I even called her a couple of times to ask how her trip was going, but both calls were sent straight to voicemail." Reid chimed in. Hotch's eyes grew as he realized he was not the only one you weren't answering. Something felt wrong, and one look at each other showed the team felt the same.
"Hotch, this is off; especially for (Y/N)," Morgan said, everyone looking to the unit chief.
"Ok, let's meet up at (Y/N)'s, see if she's been there recently. Morgan, call Garcia on the way. She went home earlier than the rest of us. Let's go." Hotch ordered, and just like that, they were on the trail.
----
Once the team saw your apartment untouched, they knew you were gone. They had to follow you, and thankfully Garcia was able to track your cell phone when it was last used a few days ago. Thus leading them to Cedar Creek, South Dakota; a town ravaged by a string of killings lately.
"I don't understand. (Y/N)'s smart, so she would've researched any dangers of where she was going, especially when there were lives lost." Reid said as they traveled to the police station.
"I was surprised the sheriff accepted our offer to come out. They must be desperate." JJ spoke.
"It's no coincidence (Y/N) comes to a town rifled with murders and then disappears. She's gotta be in the middle of this." Morgan pitched. Hotch agreed, but the idea made him sick. He couldn't lose you.
"Agreed. So we work this case and find (Y/N) in the process." He said. Once they got to the police station, they went straight to work.
"Ok, just to rundown again; Emma Lang, Troy Kingsley, Madison Baker, Alica Fern, Casey Jones, and Alex Raff. All found within days of each other, all drained of blood. The victims also had multiple wounds, layered." JJ grimaced.
"You mean this sick bastard used them over and over again?" Morgan asked and JJ just nodded.
"I think you mean bastards: plural. No way less than five people did this job." Rossi pitched. Hotch kept glancing at the wound photos, silently hoping you weren't going through that right now.
"Ok, we'll split up; Morgan and Rossi, you take the dumpsites, JJ and Reid on the victimology. Prentiss, you're with me. We need to find out what happened to (Y/N)."
"Wait, (F/N) (L/N)?" The sheriff piped up after catching their conversation. The team nodded, wondering how he knew you. "She came in last week asking questions about the case. I should've known she was with you, her being FBI and all."
"So she was here for the case?" Hotch asked, to which the sheriff nodded.
"Oh yeah. Looked through all the info you are before I pointed her to the motel on the northern edge of town near Maggie's Cafe."
"Not a bed and breakfast?" Morgan asked, remembering that little detail you told him earlier.
"No. We had one up here, but it shut down a couple years ago." Hotch thanked him as the team was witnessing your story unravel before their eyes.
----
It wasn't until around eight at night that the team could meet outside of your motel. They would have come earlier, but they needed to work this case before they let their feelings for their missing family member take priority, much to Hotch's dismay.
It took one look at the parking lot to know they were on the right track as there was your car sitting at the very end. After questioning the motel manager and flashing a couple badges, they were given the room number 10.
"Sorry I can't give you a key," she said nonchalantly, staring at her little corner TV, "The other guys already took the spare."
As soon as the words left her lips, they sped to the hotel room at the end of the building. Hotch was the quickest, reaching the room in record time and pulling his gun out once he saw the door cracked open, leading the others to do the same. When they were ready, Hotch kicked open the door yelling 'FBI'. His eyes were now trained on the two men currently standing in the middle of your motel room with their hands up.
"Where is (Y/N)?" he barked.
-------
You showed up to Cedar Creek while the sun had just peeked over the horizon, having driven Darling nonstop overnight. You texted Sam and Hotch, letting them know you made it safely before heading into the police station.
"Sheriff Nelson? Agent (L/N). I'm here about the recent string of killings." You introduced, flashing your authentic badge as compared to your brothers' convincing replicas. You saw the man visibly relax.
"Oh thank goodness. We could use all the help we could get," Afterwards, you got to talking about the case. How people, mostly transients, were going missing and showing up days later drained of blood; you know, the good stuff. To you, it was an obvious case of vampires, and hopefully, the nest wouldn't prove too hard to find.
The first night in Cedar Creek you spent in your motel, looking over the case files and meditating once more - Rowena said it'd be good for you. The second day went pretty much the same: work, eat, magic, and sleep. It wasn't until the third night that things got interesting.
You changed in your motel from your FBI attire to your old hunting gear: a white shirt, dark flannel, black leather jacket, jeans, and your worn combat boots. It's been a while since you've seen yourself like this.
Today you believe you found the nest, as the body dump sites are avoiding a certain area of town. They were probably trying to not draw attention to themselves, but they ended up leading you right to them. According to an old map, there was a barn east.
Stopping at your car before you left, you popped the trunk and lifted the hatch. You gazed at all your weapons, memories flooding back to you. Werewolves in LA, a couple demons in Florida, even some spirits in DC, and so much more for so long. Despite the pain it brought, you couldn't help but admit you missed hunting. It was in your blood.
Instantly, you reached for a newly sharpened machete, along with a few vials of deadman's blood. Sighing, you closed the trunk and locked Darling, throwing anything excess back into the room before walking east. You opted not to take Darling since the walk would do you good and you didn't want any blood ruining her seats.
After almost an hour, you arrived at a small decrepit barn; perfect for a nest to take root. Quickly, you crouched behind the large worn sign as to avoid detection. You took notice of the single guard walking back and forth in front of the main entrance. Since he was here, his family must be inside. Perfect.
You finally struck once the vamp had turned his back to you, bringing your blade down with excessive force. You knew you'd need it. Around the side of the barn, you saw a ladder leading up to an open window, probably to the rafters. Once you settled in the loft, you took cover once again behind some old equipment.
You could see just about everything, but what makes you choke was counting the 15 vampire heads walking around the barn floor, making you regret turning down Sam's offer for help. How could you have missed that there were so many? You've never seen a nest this big.
You could hear them talking about their victims, how they stole them at night, and how the FBI was in town. They haven't realized you were a hunter yet, making you a little less tense. You had the element of surprise. No matter how many times you hunted, it was still one of the most heart-racing things you've ever done.
Once you took a chance to collect yourself and ready your blade, you looked back down to the barn floor. This time, you only counted 14 moving heads. Balls.
"Hey, there pretty thing~" came a voice from behind you before you felt a crack on your skull.
Really hope you like the story so far. It's been a long while since I've written anything outside of an analytical essay for college, so I can only hope it's enjoyable enough lol.