A/N: They put Rob Zombie's Halloween on Netflix. You know what I'm doing now. I haven't seen it yet, but that will change soon.

"We can't find D/B/F/N."

"What do you mean, you can't find him? You're the F.B.I, aren't you?" You asked.

"Yes. We sent some of the local police officers over in Davenport to check on him because we couldn't get a hold of him, and he's not there. His phone was at home, and so was his truck. We'll keep looking, and I promise we won't stop until we find him, but for now, you'll need to stay here." Spencer spoke softly, only to be interrupted by Aaron coming into the room.

"Reid," He beckoned Spencer out of the room, and Spencer excused himself.

It went a lot like how it went when Jennifer pulled him out of the room. Except Spencer came back into the room with a relieved look on his face.

"We found him. Turns out, he just went on a walk. He's on his way right now."

You sighed involuntarily and looked at Spencer, who was still standing.

"Now what? Do we just wait?" You asked.

"Well, we'll keep questioning your Uncle, try and interrogate Michael, and, for you, once the scene is cleared-- which shouldn't be long now-- we'll take you home, and we'll help you pack up your items, and we'll get some legal stuff situated when D/B/F/N gets here, and then you'll be on your way." Spencer stood up. "For now, do you have a book in your bag you can read or something?"

"No, I don't."

"I'll have one of the officers at your house bring one over. Anything in particular?"

"No."

"Okay. You'll have your book in a bit." Spencer stood up and left, leaving you alone.

______________

You must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, Jennifer was gently shaking your shoulder.

"Y/N, they cleared your house. I'm going with you, to help you pack, okay?" She said.

You nodded and stood up, wiping the sleep from your eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's about four. D/B/F/N will be here in about an hour." Jennifer opened the door to the little board room and the two of you walked out into the evening air, where suddenly, you were bombarded by the press.

"Y/N! Y/N, what's it like being family to Michael Myers?"

"Y/N, is it true that Michael's your cousin?"

"Y/N! Y/N, over here! Smile for the camera!"

"Y/N!"

Camera flashes and microphones were shoved in your face, and people and their loud voices were up in your face. Suddenly, though, they were gone.

"Hey, FBI! Back off!" Jennifer shouted, flashing her badge.

Within seconds, all of the microphones were shoved under Jennifer's nose.

"Agent! Agent, can you tell us anything about the case?"

"Agent, is it true that you have Michael Myers in custody?"

"Agent! Agent! Agent, who's Y/N going to live with?"

"Hey! Shut up!" Jennifer shouted. "Go bother somebody else! This is official F.B.I business! We'll tell you what we know when we're ready!" She opened the door to an SUV and you got in. She shoved her way through the reporters and got into her seat.

You were honestly surprised that she didn't run anybody over pulling out of the parking lot. She was driving erratically, and the reporters seemed to be throwing themselves at the car. But, somehow, the only thing that was hurt was a couple of cigarette butts and maybe the tail of a rabid squirrel.

The ride was silent for a few moments before Jennifer began to speak. "I'm sorry for the press. They- they don't know when to stop."

"They've got a job to do. Families, probably." You sighed. "Hey, how's Sam?"

"He's meeting us at the house; he was cleared." Jennifer replied. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"Do you know why Michael would turn himself in?"

You didn't know. All that you could think of was that he knew it was over and just wanted it to be over. As if he knew that his reign over this small kingdom was done. Finite. Caputski. Whatever word you want to use, it was over.

"I wish I knew. Can I ask you something?" You replied. "Quid Pro Quo, I think is how Spencer put it?"

"Latin; classical Spence." Jennifer chuckled. "But, yeah, ask your question."

"Why didn't I end up in D/B/F/N's care in the first place?"

Now it was Jennifer's turn to not know.

"Well, we have agents talking to your aunt and uncle right now; trying to figure that out." She replied, turning into the driveway. "Come on; let's get your stuff. I'm sure you'll get answers soon, and D/B/F/N will be here soon, too."

______________

After about an hour and a half of packing with Jennifer (and one of Sherriff Morgan's officers, who had showed up within fifteen minutes of the process), Jennifer stepped out of your bedroom to answer a call.

"Yeah, Hotch?" "Uhuh." "Oh-kay..." "Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell her. Do you want me to bring her back?" "Okay." "Yeah, we're almost done. Maybe another five minutes or so." "Bye."

Jennifer came back into the bedroom and smiled at you. "D/B/F/N is at the station. Aaron wants us to finish packing, and then he'll come to help us load up your belongings, okay?"

Sherriff's Morgan's officer, Officer Simmons, was a muscular man, but not exactly burly. He was no John Cena, but he wasn't a twig. Currently, he was struggling to dismantle your desk, and was letting out a string of creative curses under his breath that he was sure you couldn't here.

"Officer, just leave it. Agent Hotchner said that D/B/F/N already had furniture because he had been expecting Y/N." Jennifer said.

"Oh, thank God." Officer Simmons said. "Is that everything then? No more furniture?"

"No. I'll call Hotch and tell him."

Jennifer stepped outside again, presumably to call Aaron.

"Hey, Hotch. We're finished." "Okay, great. How's, uh, how's U/N doing?" "Seriously? Well, he's going to need a really good one, then. And Michael?" "That's good. Well, um, send D/B/F/N, and we'll be back soon." "Bye."

"U/N lawyer up?" Officer Simmons asked, looking out of the bedroom window.

"Yeah. He's going to need a good one with all the evidence. I think A/N doesn't really know what to do. The officer who took her to the church says she's still sitting there." Jennifer recounted. "D/B/F/N is on his way."

"How's Michael?" You piped up from your spot on the floor.

"Well, he's communicating as best he can, but the other agents and officers are struggling to understand." Jennifer explained.

"Is he writing?"

"No; Aaron said that he was making gestures."

"Give him a pad and pencil. He likes writing out what he says more than gesturing."

"Alright, I'll let him know. Are you two going to be okay here if I run back to the station?" Jennifer asked, pocketing her phone.

"Oh, yeah. We'll be fine." Officer Simmons said. "He'll be here in, what, five minutes?"

"About. If you need anything, call." Jennifer smiled and left.

A few moments of silence passed between you and Officer Simmons before he spoke up.

"Did Michael ever, you know, hurt you?"

Your mind went to Cooper. Michael said he'd gotten him as a gift. But maybe, just maybe, it was so he wouldn't hurt you. What he didn't tell you that he overheard. Did he ever tell you the truth about that? Did he even ever tell you? He had taken his mask off around you. Did he feel comfortable around you? Did he care about you?

"No."

Officer Simmons was about to reply when you both heard the front door open. No one had called out, and Officer Simmons was immediately suspicious. He stood up and drew his pistol, slowly tiptoeing out of the room and out to the upstairs banister. After a minute, you heard conversation between the closed door. You couldn't make it out, but it didn't sound threatening. Soon enough, there were two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs.

When the door to the bedroom opened, Officer Simmons opened the door and stepped aside, letting the other person into the room.

The other person was male. He was an alright looking guy, with short brown hair that went down just about an inch below his shoulders. He had soft brown eyes and fair skin, light freckles dancing across his cheeks. The only thing that put you off was how young he looked. He was slender, but slightly muscular. The kid couldn't have been more than fifteen, and his voice, having a slight lacking in testosterone, only confirmed that.

"Y/N?"