It's easy to break a man. Just take away one thing and his world falls apart. Life is fragile like that. So fragile and pathetic. There is not much of a challenge to it, which is a shame. I like a good challenge.

The doctor, however, was not a challenge. He put up a pretty good fight, better than I had expected, but he still posed no challenge. I could not wait for him to find me; it was too risky. I listened carefully to hear if there was anyone else with him. There were no voices and only one set of footsteps; he was alone. I slowly made my way out of the closet, trying my best to keep the noises to a minimum. In my coat pockets I kept a gun and a tazer. The tazer was all that I really needed. The gun was more of a precaution.

I peeked out from the bedroom doorway. I could see the doctor in the living room. He sat on the couch, facing away from me. His head was down. I guessed that he was most likely reading. Slowly, I inched forward. My heart pumped furiously so much that the anxiety began to hurt. And there was the doctor lost in his book, completely oblivious to the world around him. Should I say something? I should I get his blood pumping as well?

No. This just needs to get over with. The plan is already taking longer than expected.

I was standing right behind him, yet he was still unaware of my presence. It's a wonder he ever was allowed to become an agent. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the tazer. My free hand crept forward, making its way to the doctor's mouth. It was this moment when the doctor caught on. He jerked around, but I was prepared for it. I slammed down my hand into his face, doing my best to cover his mouth and nose. The doctor fought back. He grabbed onto my arm and tried to pull himself free. His fingernails dug deep into my skin. It took me by surprise.

Let's just say I was not pleased. I yanked back the doctor's head as far as it could ago and jammed the tazer into his chest. All it took was one shot and he was out. The doctor slumped forward. I grabbed onto him, not holding him up rather than holding him quiet. Trying to balance out the deadweight took some time- he was taller than I had anticipated- but I managed.

The doctor was mine.

It was one of those rare days when the members of the Behavioral Analysis Unit were not loaded with an overbearing workload. For the most part it was quiet. Few conversations were passed around as everyone had busied themselves with playing catch up with paperwork. It was not until Hotch came out of his office and requested Reid's presence does the team take note of their youngest member's absence. "Have any of you heard from Reid?" Hotch asks. Reid had rarely been late to work before, certainly not more than five minutes at the most, but now they had reached well over an hour since the work day had begun. Although uncommon it's did not necessarily mean life threatening. Still, Hotch began to worry, and there was no relief when he saw his team members look around the area, appearing to be just as confused and as concerned as he was feeling.

"I don't know," Morgan says as he checks his phone. There were no texts or missed calls from Reid. "I'll call him. I'm sure it's nothing. He probably just stayed up late working on something and overslept."

"Are we sure that he even sleeps?" Rossi says.

The group waits patiently for Reid to answer the phone. The moment passes and all Morgan gets is Reid's voicemail. He shakes his head. "I'll try again."

They wait longer, and just when Morgan was about to give up again someone answers. "Hello?" the person on the other line asks. The voice does not sound like Reid's; it's too low and jagged sounding. For a second Morgan wonders if he had dialed the wrong number, but he was sure it was his friend's.

"Reid?" he says into the phone.

There is a short pause. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but the doctor is a little busy at the moment."

"Who is this?"

"I can have him call you back later if you so wish."

"Who is this?" Morgan demands. The rest of the team stands by quietly. The atmosphere of the room has quickly changes. The air becomes heavy with the static feeling of fear and anticipation. They wait on edge to see what comes next.

There is the faint sound of laugher on the other side. "I should be asking the same, but I don't care who you are. Would you mind doing me a favor, though? Could you put David Rossi on, please? I trust that he is somewhere nearby. Unless he has taken the day off for whatever reason he came up with."

Morgan turns towards Rossi. He considers saying more to the man on the phone, but knows that nothing would be helpful. Instead, he extends his arm forward to offer the senior profiler the phone. "He wants to talk to you."

Rossi is slightly taken aback. Why would they want to talk to him? He takes the phone from Morgan and prepares himself for whatever lies ahead. "This is David Rossi."

"David! Finally I get a chance to speak with you. How are you?"

Rossi frowns slightly. He is confused by the man's tone. On surface level it sounds cheery, but there is a slight edge to it. "Fine. Have you been wanting to speak to me for long?"

"Awhile. I can barely get more than a few words out of you when I have the oppurtinity. You are not the greatest of listeners."

"I apologize. Have we met before?"

"On several occasion," the man says. "I'm rather offended that you don't remember. Not that I'm surprised or anything."

"Can I ask who I am speaking to? How did you get a hold of my colleague's phone."

"The doctors? Oh, it's a long story. It was the only way I could get your attention. And it wasn't even you who called! You are terribly difficult to get a hold of. Do you know that?"

"I'm sorry," Rossi says again. Whoever this person is, he is starting to frustrate the agent. The conversation is going nowhere, so Rossi pushes forward. "Where is Reid?"

"Sleeping, or at least something like that, but he is unconscious at the moment so I cannot imagine that he would be any use for you."

Hotch had heard enough. He rushes out the room without saying a word to the others. He needs to talk to Garcia; she can track the phone. They will have to act quickly, especially if there is there is a chance that Reid is in any sort of danger.

Rossi pauses. "Is he sleeping at his apartment? Is that where you are?"

"David," the man says with a chuckle, "do you honestly believe that I would be so foolish? No. We are long gone. We had ourselves a little sleepover. Well, there wasn't much sleeping, and there won't be any later as well. I got some things in mind. I'm sure you would love to hear about it, but I should get going. Maybe we can talk again later. Sounds good?"

"Where is Spencer? Is he okay?"

"You're a profiler, David. You can figure it out. But you will be hearing from me again. We have much to talk about."

The line goes dead.

The team split up into two groups. The first, consisting of Morgan and Emily, went off to Reid's apartment. Garcia had managed to track down the area Reid's phone was last active, which turned out to be a park nearly half an hour away from the apartment. That is where Rossi, Hotch, and JJ have gone to search. There is no sign of Reid, to no one's surprise.

"What do you think he meant by sleeping?" JJ asks. "Reid would never sleep outside. I don't know if he even goes outside unless it's for work."

"He must have been held somewhere else," Hotch says.

"Or he could still be at his apartment, and could have just had his phone stolen," JJ says. Her tone is hopeful, but even to her own ears she knows it is nothing but a false hope. " Have you heard from Morgan or Emily yet?"

"No. Not yet."

"Besides," Rossi says, "that was over half an hour ago. A lot can happen in that time. It's doubtful that Reid is still in the area, if he ever was."

"Maybe I should try calling him," JJ says as she pulls out her phone. "It's a long shot, but he might be in the area."

The three agents wait in silence, straining to pick up any possible clues. Two seconds after JJ pressed dial a faint electronic chime rings out in the distant. The agents' snapped into attention. They look around to find the source. Hotch is the first to spot it. Several feet away he sees a homeless man lying underneath a bench. The man was awaken by the sudden noise, and is blindly scrambling to find the device to quiet it. Without saying a word, Hotch hurries off into that direction with JJ and Rossi not too far behind him.

"FBI," Hotch barks. "Put that phone down."

The homeless man, unaware of the agents' presence, jumps at the rough voice. He lets the phone lie on the ground, and covers the back of his head with his hands. There are words coming from his mouth in jumbled, incoherent mess, but Hotch pays no attention. The lead agent pulls out a pair of rubber gloves out of his pocket and quickly puts them on before touching Reid's phone. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.

"It's mine!"

"No. This phone belongs to one of my agents. How did you get a hold of this?"

"I-I… It was given to me," the scraggly man manages to get out. He moves his hands away from his head so that he can get a better look at Hotch. Clearly this supposed FBI agent is not one to be messed with, not that he would try. Just answer the questions, he tells himself.

"By who?"

"Some guy. Said he didn't need it, so I could have it."

"When was this?"

"I don't know! Does it look like I have a watch?"

The agents exchange looks of frustration and worry. Just as they thought, whoever had called earlier was gone. "What did this guy look like?" Rossi asks.

"I dunno. I can't remember."

"You can't remember? It wasn't that long ago? What about skin or hair colour? Height? Age?"

The man looks up at them. One eye is nearly squinted shut to help focus on his thoughts. "White," he says. "Older. Brown hair, or maybe it was black. I can't remember. Barely got a look at him."

"Did he have anyone with him?" JJ asks.

"No. He was all on his own. Just came up and handed me the phone- said I could use it more than him. I wasn't going to do nothing with it! Just try to call up my wife or something."

"What all did he say to you?" Hotch asks.

"Not much. Like I said, he just told me I looked like I could use the phone more than him, and then he gave it to me. Never said a name or nothin'. He just left after that."

"Had you seen him before?"

"Never in my life had I seen that man. Just gave me a phone and left. I thought he was just trying to do a good deed, but figures it was stolen. Can't trust people, you know."

Hotch represses a sigh. "Stay in the area," he says to the homeless man before turning away. "There will be someone coming by soon to formally interview you."

"Sure. Ain't like I got nowhere else to go."

They left the man then. Any hope they previously had was shrunken down. "So he was here," Rossi says referring to the unknown caller. "We got a witness, but he doesn't remember anything. Hopefully someone else can get more out of him."

"I can try," JJ offers. "At least he did see someone."

"But not Reid," Hotch cuts in.

"True, but we do have the phone. We can see if we can lift any prints."

"It's a start," Rossi says. "But now that we have the phone, how does he plan on getting in contact with us?"

"He might have taken your number from Reid's phone."

"But why didn't he call me if he already had my number?" Rossi asks. The question is mostly directed to himself. It would not be the first time some crazed person has gone out of his way to reach him, but as direct as this man wanted to be he seemed to have a roundabout way of doing so.

"I don't know, but keep watch on your phone," Hotch says. "I already have Garcia ready to get any incoming calls. Let's go to the apartment to see if the others have found anything."

I settle myself down onto the mattress on the floor next to the doctor. He is awake now, but unable to move or speak. While he was out I took the liberty of doing up his wrists behind his back with zip ties, and with a nylon cord I bound his ankles together and knotted it up around the zip ties. I bound his mouth with duct tape, winding it round and round his face. It would keep him quiet; there was no way he could manage to get it off with his own doing.

In my hands is a silver DVD disk. I reach for a black Sharpie marker lying on the floor. "I talked to your dear friends," I say to him. "They are probably looking for you by now, or for your sake I hope so. It won't do them much good though." I uncap the marker and bring it up to the disks surface.

"In the mean time we can make them another video. I am nearly finished with this one. I just have to write something and post it. They should be viewing it sometime in the near future. Boy I wish I could be there for that!"

I look down at the doctor with a smile. He is just staring at me with his eyes large and wet with fear. It's annoying. I could punch him in the face. Maybe I will later- for the next video. "I'm sure they will find it interesting," I say. "It may be a little awkward for you, but terribly entertaining for me. Would you like to make another one? You had fun the first time around, right?" I look to the doctor again for any sort of response. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I sigh. "You are quite boring, doctor. But I can easily fix that."

Okay, so I know that it is not much longer, but I tried! I did! This was just the spot to leave it off. I do apologize for how long it took me to update. I had previously planned on making it a week earlier, but it's summer. I get too easily distracted. I will try not to do it again though! I would also like to apologize for my writing. It is a little bit rusty at the moment, and I am still in the process of getting back into the swing of things.

Thank you to all of those who read and review the last chapter! I was not expecting much of a response, so it was nice to see that people actually enjoyed it and wanted to see more! I will try to make the next update sooner rather than later. Again, I am so sorry!