Okay; originally this story was written sometime early 09 and since I've improved in my writing skills and abilities, I've decided to give this story a re-vamp. I'm keeping the original (or partially-changed) story on FF if anyone wants to compare and tell me how much better I am now ;)

Anyway, I've wasted enough time; enjoy the read and enjoy it if you will.

KaseyKC

Chain Reaction

Every action has an equal reaction; the problem is figuring out what and when that reaction will occur.

9:35am, FBI Office, Quantico

It was still early as of yet, but the drive into work had been anything but relaxing; road works on all the main highways along with an increased police presence because the PD had been getting called 'lax' and 'lardy-cops of Quantico' meant that Gideon had arrived twenty-minutes later than usual. That also meant that he was behind schedule and so he couldn't sit back and watch people rushing past his office; he basically couldn't waste time and perfect his profiling abilities.

After almost ten-minutes of watching people run by in a hurry and with a sense of urgency in their movements, Gideon was quite surprised when the phone on his desk rang; he hadn't used the thing more than once or twice and that was only when he had to deal with Strouse.

He immediately answered it and listened intently as the caller rattled away and went on and on about how much they needed the help of the B.A.U; well, the guy didn't actually say that but Gideon's profiling skills informed him of that.

Eventually the caller was silent and Gideon was able to get a word in, "Okay, we'll be there in a few hours," was all he said before he hung up; feeling incredibly happy that he'd cut the call and so didn't have to listen to the guy much more. He really did hate getting these early-morning calls from PD detectives who thought nothing of his skills, thought nothing of the B.A.U and the star team which he was a part of.

He wearily arose, his chair squeaking as he pushed it away from his desk, and looked through the large window that allowed him a decent view of the bullpen. He could see Morgan, looking for all intents and purposes like he was trying to sleep on the mountain of paperwork he had yet to do, and also JJ who looked as bright and bushy-eyed as ever; which didn't exactly make Gideon feel any happier because he felt like he could do with a couple more weeks in bed.

He frowned when he saw Reid walk in with a cup of coffee and next to Emily, also carrying a cup of coffee; from the same cafe, and they were talking and chatting and smiling at each other. He shook his head, and reasoned that they're friends, nothing more.

He moved towards his open door and leaned his head out, he saw Hotch coming over towards him on the catwalk and he said quickly, "We've been requested."

"I know," Hotch answered as he stopped beside Gideon, "They called me after you hung up on them."

"He was annoying me," Gideon shrugged and Hotch raised an eyebrow.

Gideon walked along the catwalk and Hotch fell into step beside him, as they descended the stairs he called out, "Guys, we've got a case. Atlanta City's called us in."

Reid and the others looked at Gideon and Hotch for a moment before scrambling to get their gear, and Reid, after grabbing his satchel bag and jacket, caught up with Gideon and Hotch who were about to enter the lift and asked, "What's the case?"

"They've got an Unsub who's kidnapping and murdering young girls," Gideon answered simply as everyone dived into the lift and the doors closed with a loud 'bing'.

11:25am, B.A.U Jet

The sun was shining brightly above the clouds and the jet coasted along at roughly 30'000 feet, allowing the occupants of the jet to garner some sun before they descended beneath the clouds again. It had been forecast that it would rain today in Atlanta meaning that they would be landing in the midst of the rain; and none of them had any waterproofs with them. Not that they were really concerned with that since they all had their holdalls and a spare change of clothes with them.

Reid was sat reading a novel by a British author and Gideon was staring out of the window while Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss and Aaron Hotchner, sat together around the collapsible table, discussing the homicides and the possible personality of the killer.

"Each of these victims look alike and all of them have the exact same injuries," Jennifer Jareau, also known as JJ, said more to herself than to the others, "How could anyone do such a thing?"

Morgan didn't speak and neither did Prentiss or Hotch. Gideon seemed to be lost in his own realm as he continued to stare at the clouds and wonder about the different hues and tones they took on when the sun shone over them. Reid, who hadn't looked up from his novel and so didn't see the subtle look that Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch gave each other, answered JJs query.

"Serial killers can't always see the difference between normal and abnormal like we can, to them this level of violence could be normal." He continued to read his novel, flipping through the pages insanely fast whilst still taking in each and every word on each of them.

"Have you even seen these photos?" JJ demanded as she stood up and stalked over to him. As he looked at her she shoved several of the photographs she held in her hand towards him, "Look at them Reid!"

Slowly putting down his book, Reid studied each of the photographs closely; taking in every detail in them, "They seem familiar somehow," he commented quietly, looking from the photographs to the others.

"In what way?" Gideon spoke, apparently he had focused on the conversation at some point because he looked at Reid closely and observed his reaction.

"Like I've seen them before, like I know them," Reid answered looking back at the photographs again, searching through his eidetic memory, trying to find the link to the whisper of an image in his mind's eye.

"Maybe you're thinking of someone else," Prentiss offered as there was an uncomfortable silence on the plane. She was watching Reid's reaction also and noted that he looked even more distressed by that obvious statement than he had even been when looking at photographs from even the most gruesome of cases they had worked on. It intrigued and worried her in equal measures because she was certain that it was probably someone, or something, from his past that had sparked him when he had set eyes upon those photographs he held in his hands.

"I know I'm thinking of someone else but they look like her, all of them!" Reid insisted looking at her with an earnest gaze, "Someone I knew… years ago..."

"Who?" Gideon asked softly, his voice gentle but firm; he knew that Reid was uncomfortable when talking about his past but he also knew that if the information was relevant to the case then he needed to know.

"Err…" Reid looked at Gideon with a rather pretentious half-glare on his face and was briefly debating whether or not to answer, but even he knew that Gideon would on have asked him if it could be important to the case so he decided to grimace and 'suck-it up' as Morgan often said, "Maybe Sara Clarkson, I think."

Gideon nodded and, knowing that Reid didn't want to discuss it any further with the rest of the team around, picked up his cell phone, flipped it open and rang their technical analyst; Penelope Garcia.

Garcia was happily beating some poor 'Elf Lord's' arse on the MMORPG that she was a member of; one of the highest ranking members if she did say so herself, when Gideon's call distracted her from landing her killing blow. Though it was annoying for her, it saved Elf Lord's arse and she couldn't exactly begrudge her sexy man; especially when it was his team that was calling. She was fully expecting Morgan to be the one who had called her and so greeted the caller with her usual enthusiasm.

"What's up my sexy man?" She asked with a cheeky voice as she typed away on her computer, pulling up the search database she seemed to always be using whenever the team were on a case.

Garcia, run a search for a Sara Clarkson," Gideon said, ordered, her completely ignoring the tone of voice which she'd answered the call with and getting straight to the point. He didn't want to reprimand her for her behaviour since it was one of the many quirks of one Penelope Garcia that made his life easier to life; if someone like Garcia could be so silly and childish when she had to trawl through horrific child-porn sites and look at video-posts of murders on a near-enough daily basis then he wasn't going to damage her way of coping with it all.

"Err… yes Sir. Not a problem!" She stuttered and flushed bright pink as she realised that she had greeted her boss in such an inappropriate way. She hurriedly began to work her computer wizardry, searching through the Social Security database as well as all available, and a few unavailable through legal means, databases that she could gain access to.

She found several pieces of information about the girl Gideon was searching for, including a couple of newspaper articles, and professionally informed Gideon of it, "Sarah Jane Clarkson born in 1986 to Alex and Frances Clarkson. She has, had, one brother. There's a police report and records of the deaths of both her parents and her brother; they died in a car crash eleven years ago. She was the only one who survived; and suffers from PTSD, due to the crash."

"What's her address?" Gideon asked, feeling bad for the girl but he couldn't afford to feel sympathy for a murder; even if she was only murdering because she was so traumatised.

"One second," Garcia replied, a few commands in-putted into her computer later which rewarded her with every piece of information pertaining to Sarah Clarkson's whereabouts and she had an address, sort of, "There's no listed address but there is a PO in Atlanta City in her name. There are no credit cards in her name, though she could be using an alias, no leases on any homes and no memberships or job records that use her name. She's off the radar; to a point sir."

Gideon sighed and said, "Thanks Penny," he was getting tired of the needle in a needlestack that was situated in the middle of a nuclear fall-out zone; they had a suspect but couldn't locate said suspect. The irony.

Garcia heard the sigh in Gideon's voice and said quickly, "I'm sorry sir. I'll keep looking for anything but I don't really think I'll find anything."

"It's alright Penny, bye," Gideon hung up the call and placed the cell phone on the unopened file in his lap. He then looked directly at Reid.

"I think you might be right," he said finally and he watched how Reid tried to not show any outward signs of panic or worry.

Reid nodded mutely and placed the photographs back on the table before refocusing his attention on his novel; trying to forget everything and become lost in the words and the false world of Sherlock Holmes. Needless to say, he wasn't succeeding all that well.

Taking Reid's behaviour as a sign that they should stop discussing the case, and also stop staring at Reid, the others all busied themselves with other things; Emily dug out the book that she'd 'borrowed' from Reid's desk earlier that week; JJ went over the case details with Hotch in silence, and Morgan slipped his headphones into his ears and began playing some random assortment of music. Gideon though did not go back to staring out of the window and instead chose to subtly study Reid as he attempted to read his novel, all the while with a growing look of worry and discontent upon his young face. Secretly, Gideon was worried about Reid, 'he's been through a lot lately; far too much for him, for anyone... He needs a break.'

As the jet continued to coast along at 30'000 feet, the sun continued to shine through the porthole windows and Gideon continued to observe Reid, and there was silence within the jet as no-one dared to speak a word.

12:54pm, Atlanta Police Precinct, Atlanta.

The Atlanta Police Precinct wasn't old but it looked shabby; the walls were a muted, concrete grey; the windows were old, with peeling white paint; and there was little in the way of parking out front which meant the teams SUVs had to pull into the squad-car parking lot behind the precinct. Inside wasn't much better; it was cramped and humid, the place lacked any sufficient air conditioning, and there was a distinct musty smell in the air. Detective John Disart, the lead on the case the team had come to consult on, was showing BAU to the conference room, used for interviews and press releases as he chatted to them with an easy-going smile that was anything but easy for the team to constantly look at.

"You can use this place if you want, I guess it's not what you guys are used to but it's the best we can do," Disart said cheerfully showing them into the large room, airy room; which still had the musty smell. In the centre was a long oak table complete with hardback, material-covered chairs, "I just hope you guys can figure this out, God knows that this sicko's out to get as many as possible," Disart shook his head and added in a more cheerful voice, "Just holler out if you want anything."

"We will," Hotch muttered too quietly for Disart to hear as he left them alone.

The team all sat down at the table, bar Reid; choosing their seats almost as if they were already allocated. Hotch sat at the head, Morgan to his immediate right, Gideon to his immediate left, then JJ next to Gideon and Prentiss next to Morgan. Reid avoided the table and moved instead over towards the window where he stared out and up at the murky clouds that were several different tones of pewter grey.

"Reid," Gideon said, his voice loud in the silence of the room and startling to Reid, who had been getting lost in the turmoil evident in the clouds. Reid slowly tore his eyes away from the clouds and settled them on Gideon; the two dark brown orbs filled with an almost indiscernible annoyance and discomfort. Something that most people wouldn't have picked up on, but Gideon wasn't most people.

"What?" Reid asked his voice soft but sharp, filled with reluctance, as Gideon and the others stared at him. He was beginning to feel increasingly annoyed and agitated with the constant staring.

"Could you please sit down?" Gideon asked looking Reid directly in the eyes. Though Gideon didn't move or point or glare at Reid there was a subtle shift in his eyes and a slight stiffening of his posture that told Reid that it wouldn't be prudent to argue or be rebellious so he decided to do as Gideon asked.

Nodding tightly Reid sat down opposite Hotch, in the last available seat, and tried to avoid the searching and analytical gazes of his team members.

"The Unsub," Gideon said, slowly and deliberately, and everyone turned their attention from Reid and onto him, "Derek, JJ, Emily, I want you to start making a profile on this unsub now. Hotch, would you ask Disart to see if anyone knows Sarah Clarkson and ask if anyone has heard of her brother…"

"Michael," Reid said quietly, causing the others to look at Reid briefly.

"…Michael Clarkson, please?" Gideon continued without looking at Reid and the others took the hint and stopped gawping at him.

"Sure," Hotch said getting to his feet; he quickly and silently left the room, going in search of Detective Disart.

"On it boss," Derek said as he stood up and JJ and Emily followed him; they walked over to the open door at the other end of the room and saw to their amusement a whiteboard which they wheeled out and set-up near the windows.

"Reid, come with me," Gideon quietly said to Reid as he stood up slowly and made his way towards the door; he knew that Reid was following him and so didn't turn around to check.

Silently following Gideon out the door and towards the men's bathroom, Reid thought about what was about to happen and how much Gideon would ask to know; his thoughts didn't make him feel any better and he was seriously debating becoming a clam when Gideon opened the door to the men's bathroom and gestured for him to enter. Gideon closed the door once Reid was inside and silently watched as the young man walked over to one of the sinks and busied himself with washing his hands; wasting time, putting off the questioning that he knew was about to come.

"Spencer, I know you don't like to talk about your past, but right now I need to know everything about Sara Clarkson and her brother. You knew them," He said quietly, his voice firm but also understanding; he knew how hard it was to discuss painful memories from a less-than idealistic upbringing, but he couldn't ignore the fact that he needed to know for the sake of the case and to bring justice to the victims.

Reid didn't answer, he just continued to wash his hands over and over in the cold water that was coming from the tap; he was trying to collect his thoughts and he found that the repetitiveness of the action of washing his hands was helpful to him ordering his thoughts into a single coherent thought that he could share. After about five minutes of washing his hands, during which Gideon didn't speak or make a move to stop him, Reid took a deep breath and said slowly, "Okay, what do you want to know?"

TBC...

I'll upload the next chapter when I edit it and improve it and add to it. Please review this and tell me if it's better the way it is now or the way it was; I'm guessing the answer will be now ;)

KaseyKC