THE BLOG

Chapter Two

A Vision And A Revelation

-on the plane to Washington D.C.-

Spencer returned from the on-plane, shaky toilet and sat down on his usual seat, observing the others for a short moment. JJ was on the phone, probably with Will, her babies-father, telling him that she was yet again gone to solve a case, Hotch was studying the case files, Rossi had his eyes closed but Spencer was pretty sure that he wasn't sleeping and Emily and Morgan were playing cards and it looked like Emily would win. Morgan didn't like it much.

Reid couldn't help the yawn that crept over his face. This late start had thrown him off balance, he had even put his wrists under the ice-cold water from the rest-room sink because that normally brought back the life to him but the act didn't do its deeds and he figured that he would need a lot more coffee to survive this day. Probably his body was just trying to tell him how he didn't want to be involved in this case. All the attention, all the pressure. He wasn't a fan of these circumstances to do his job.

"Hotch?", he brought his body up to have free sight and saw Hotch reluctantly looking up from the files, "the boy, Michael, has he talked yet?"

"He's not gotten back to conscience, I fear. The unsub did a good job, cerebral trauma, damage to the spine...he sure didn't know what he was doing but he did it well", Hotch answered, his lips thin with disapproval.

"Could you do a quick preliminary analysis of the handwriting on the demand?", the dark haired man asked handing him a copy of the thing. Nodding, Spencer took him and processed what he saw. He started talking almost immediately.

"There's a big difference between the first part, the one where he threatens to kill Mr. Hansen and the part with the princess. The first sentence is written quickly, you can tell by the way the letters are linked together. The princess-part is wider, the letters fewer connected, he took more time on writing this. It might be that the second part is the essence of the whole thing, his original cause, I just don't see why. Why would he address someone in the ransom demand if he should except the only one to read it are policemen? Apart from that I think it's ave to say that he doesn't want to make a political statement of it. If he did he would call the victim 'The Ambassador' or something else pointing out his political status or role, also he didn't directly address the government, neither the US, nor the German, to pay the money, he just put it there and the second part is personal, it's about someone he knows"

"You think so?", Morgan, who had started paying attention to him halfway through his analysis wondered, "What if 'pirate princess' stands for a country or a person, someone the Germans have imprisoned? Or a country Germany is with war at?"

"Germany is semi-officially at war with Afghanistan but rather calls it a 'peace-mission', Afghanistan is surrounded by desert and is in no published book or text a linked to something as pirates. And since 2004 they are a democratic republic, so there should be no princess around", Spencer mused, "this is nothing political. Pirate Princess must mean something special to him but it's not Afghanistan. To me, it's a money thing. Simple as that, the princess-thing is weird...but 80 Millions..."

"This guy smells money", Emily added

Nevertheless, Morgan was on the phone now.

"Hey, baby girl, could you please check for me if Germany has any foreign prisoners that are somehow linked to piracy or that are some way linked to the term 'Pirate Princess'?"

"Sure, my vision", Spencer heard Garcia answer Morgan's question, muffled by his team-mate's cheek.

He was wasting Penelope's time, Spencer thought but couldn't blame Morgan, he always had his own theories and always hoped that he would be right over Reid. Sure, they were also great friends and he would trust Derek Morgan with his life but ever since they had been teamed up together there had been this silent, subtle rivalry. Morgan didn't like how Reid 'knew everything' and always wanted to prove that the little genius-kid wasn't the only smart-head on the team. Spencer had never wanted to claim to be the smartest and he'd never been overly competitive, it was just his character to correct misinformation, misunderstandings or generally wrong statements. He couldn't help it and Morgan always took it as a challenge when Spencer happened to correct him. And just as every time before, Morgan's mouth twitched just so slightly at his colleagues constructive critique on his Afghanistan-theory.

Spencer knew that he wasn't really angry with him, he was just annoyed. But then again, Spencer thought, brains was the only thing he had a bit more off, probably; in every other discipline, Morgan would kick his weak ass. He was faster, stronger and, needless to say, of course way better with the ladies. The only time Spencer had ever flirted with success was after Derek had told him exactly what to do. He told him to do a magic trick and it worked, a pathetically simple magic trick he had picked up when he was seven had earned him the telephone number of a gorgeous waitress. A magic trick, he thought again, and if I ever try to really talk to a girl, it's a complete catastrophe.

Whenever Spencer Reid met a girl he found interesting it was elementary school all over again. His palms became sweaty, his hands started shaking and the lingual centre of his brain quit duty. If he managed to say anything at all, it was statistics and those recited in about fifteen octaves higher than his normal speaking voice. It was pathetic. No wonder he never got a date. Not a real one at least. There'd been Lila, but she was a victim, he was supposed to protect. The incident where she pulled him in the pool and kissed him couldn't be counted as a date, even if Spencer had wanted to. And as for the waitress, they had held contact for a while but it was rather pointless as she didn't live in Quantico or anywhere near and Spencer wasn't the type for a long-distance relationship, he thought. He couldn't be sure, he'd never had one. He'd in fact never had a real relationship for a start. Again he didn't count Lizzie, a nerdy but pushy fellow chemist back in college, that invited him to a party and then to her bed (she would later call it 'picked him up') and took his virginity at age sixteen. Since then he'd had a few attempts to have a girlfriend, with medium success and the years he hadn't had sex he could count with one whole hand. Morgan would never have to spent five years without sex, that was sure.

Spencer guessed he was okay with it, he didn't miss anything, not the sex part at least. When it had happened in the past it had always been rushed and awkward and he didn't really see the appeal, apart from the fact that it, well, did feel good in a way. But it wasn't at all how most people saw it, something magical, a bounding experience or a transcendental way to get to know your partner.

No, sex had never been like that to him, so there was not much to miss that he couldn't replace by one hands work. But he missed other things, things that one hand could never replace.

He missed affection, and not the kind of affection his colleagues, his friends, felt for him, not the friendly affection; no, the real thing, love. And reassurement, appreciation, not as a profiler, not as a good person but as a man. He missed feeling wanted, needed for anything more than his brains and for doing his job. He was lacking someone who entirely knew where he was coming from, some one who understood him without words, someone that wasn't torn away by his awkwardness. Someone that could make him stop being afraid. Normally when a girl got too close, she repulsed him eventually because she wasn't right, didn't really understand him, or maybe she was okay but he didn't feel right. He felt like he needed to run because it was all too much for him. As much as his brain was quick and functionary with everything theoretical, it malfunctioned when it came to emotions. And so far there hadn't been a girl to break the spell.

"Hey Spence", he dimly heard JJ call him through the mist of thoughts occupying his head, "you dreaming?"

She smiled wryly and he knew that she asked herself what he was thinking. JJ was like a sister to him, a sweet sister that never stopped trying to figure him out.

"I'm a bit tired, I usually don't oversleep", he half lied in reply. He really needn't tell her that he thought about his girl problems.

"Well, we'll arrive in a bit, just get your stuff ready", she said.

"Hey Reid", Morgan said, "Me, JJ and Hotch are going to see the local police, Rossi and you are going to pay the son a visit in the hospital, see if he woke meanwhile"

Just when Morgan had finished, Spencer felt the plane shake a little and the common movements, rumblings and noises of landing flooded his senses. He had no problem with flying but take-off and landing never ceased to freak him out. Knowing the statistics, that more people died in car-accidents than on a plane didn't help him much.

They arrived at the hospital about half an hour after the plane had set on the solid ground. The weather in Washington was slightly better than it had been in Quantico. It wasn't raining and from time to time the sun broke through the small holes in the clouds. Typically for fall, he thought and his mood brightened when he thought about Halloween coming up. He always felt like a jolly five-year-old when October was finally there. He'd always loved Halloween.

The hospital wasn't too big, you couldn't get lost in it, that was for sure but it had just the smell hospitals had. A smell Spencer despised. It reminded him of so many unpleasant things; his mother after an episode where she managed to cut herself with a kitchen knife, tubes all over her face; himself after killing Raffael Hankel and Tobias along with him; himself after nearly dying from Anthrax; himself after being shot in the knee by a grieving father seeking revenge; Penelope after being shot, Hotch after being shot,...no, the hospital wasn't a nice place for Spencer Reid. The only happy thing that ever occurred in a hospital was the birth of his god-son Henry, JJ's and Will's child.

Through a cloud of disinfection-spray-smell, the two agents entered the second floor from the elevator and went for the receptions desk and as Spencer had never been good doing the talking, Rossi took the lead.

"Hello, I'm Agent Rossi, this is Agent Reid, with the FBI, we're looking for Mr. Michael Hansen", he said holding up his batch, with Spencer quickly doing the same.

The receptionist eyed them briefly and then sighed, "Just go down the corridor, last door up to the left, but last time we checked, he wasn't awake. His sister just arrived, though, she should be there with him, so maybe he woke up now there's a familiar voice"

With that she let them go and Spencer followed his fellow agent to the last room on the left.

"The have a daughter? How did I miss that?"; Rossi asked while walking.

"It's not really important for the case, is it? Her name is Louise, 19 years, a college freshman in Dartmouth, an English Literature major", Spencer recited from his memory, she had been mentioned in one of the files, Hotchner had went over on the plane.

"Well, I think we should integrate her into the investigation, she might have some thing to say to our negotiations with the unsub, I mean, that's her parents in hostage", Rossi said as they had almost reached Michaels room.

"And maybe she can tell us about her families enemies...maybe she can even tell us who or what the Pirate princess is", Spencer added just before Rossi turned the doorknob around.

The sight that welcomed the two was more than irritating. A teenager, 15 years of age, as Spencer remembered lay in the hospital bed, wired to at least three machines that were buzzing and humming and keeping him alive. The boy himself was beat up massively, one side of his face patched together, poorly hiding the horror it had seen. He was definitely in no state to talk.

The second they entered, the figure at the other side of the room raise to her feet and opened her mouth to snub at the intruders or question the doctors.

The light was dim, so it took a while for Spencer's eyes to adjust and the equivalent while for his throat to cord up. The view took his speech at once. She wasn't exceptionally beautiful, she rather looked like she had sat behind the wheel for a while and been fighting sleep, her dark brown hair tied up in a more than messy knot and her puffy eyes staring accusingly over to the two men, but there was something about her. Something that pushed a button inside Spencer's brain. She wasn't exceptionally beautiful, if you considered common measures of beauty, but she was exceptionally beautiful to him and that was the whole problem. Her wide cheekbones, giving her goldilocks-cheeks, a pointed nose on top of a set of round lips and even though she wasn't smiling now, he could see the hint of dimples. And then her eyes, deep, warm brown eyes that were red from crying, piercing him across the distance, had sure seen more laughter than tears in their life. Her eyes had taken him aback. Always when this happened he reflexively took a step back, stared down on the floor, up to her again, down again, his stomach twisting with an overwhelming shyness, the urge to run and the urge to vomit. All first-crush in high school over again, every time. Why did this have to happen now?

And it had happened before, every now and again. It did with Lila and a couple more afterwards, he could deal with it. He had to deal with it. He was just a little bit dumbstruck, it would wear off and then he would do his job accurately, he told himself, again wincing internally about how pathetic he was.

"Sorry, Miss Hansen, we're with the FBI, we're investigating the abduction of your parents", Rossi said, apparently ignorant to Spencer's struggle.

She took a deep breath, more to calm herself down than to actually breath, Spencer estimated and looked at them again, as if she tried to read off their faces that they were not lying to her.

"It's about time", she finally said and decided it was safe to step up to the agents.

As she approached them, with the air of her movement blowing her flowery, natural female scent over to Spencer's nostrils, he unconsciously did two things at once; hold his breath and take another step back. An outside spectator would have to believe that he was scared of her. Well, he was in a way. Get a hold of yourself, he ordered himself but unconvincingly.

"I got a call from the police one and a half days ago, I started driving up here from Dartmouth this morning and this entire time, no one tells me what's going on. The police officer that came here earlier couldn't tell me much, he was as good for information as the TV. So, I really hope for your health and my sanity that you are here to give me some answers", she ranted the second she stood in front of them, she was searching for Spencer's eyes but as he was still switched from his shoes to her face, she decided it was safer to direct her speech at Agent Rossi, who let her finish patiently.

"We will sure tell you everything we know, if you'd be so kind to answer some of our questions", he said.

"Shoot", was her curt reply.

"Are you aware of any enemies your family might have?", Rossi said, following the typical protocol for those occasions.

"None that I could think of, I already told the police officers. My Dad was not a man to make enemies. Being German you always have to be extra cautious not to piss anyone off around here. You know, if all else fails you're the Nazi. You wouldn't believe how many people asked me if Hitler still lived in Berlin, when I tell them I'm German So, my Dad tries to avoid any complications. Making sure no one feels the need to bring 'icky subjects' on. I always tell him he's being pretty spineless but then again, I don't have the reputation of an entire nation to protect"

"So, no enemies", Rossi closed. She was pretty talkative, this one, Spencer thought and dared to look at her for a little longer, hoping it secure as she had her eyes locked on Rossi.

"None that I could think of", she repeated.

"Have your parents mentioned something unusual happening lately? Something weird?"

"No, we...we haven't talked in a while. I've been pretty busy. No one cared to call me much, if there had been something really exceptional or if they'd been threatened, I'm sure they would've let me know. But...no...no one mentioned a thing to me"

She felt excluded, separated from her family, Spencer couldn't help the profiling, his poor brain held on to the only normality it knew. Did this make her a suspect? He looked at her closely again. It was hard to imagine that she was in any way involved in this but he couldn't let his freak feelings overshadow his professional judgement.

But she didn't act suspicious, she was tired, exhausted, angry and sad, a bit desperate, devastated when she looked over her shoulder to check on her little brother. She did it every ten seconds or so. She was worried about him. No, she had nothing to do with this. Every time she saw him, her whole body crunched slightly; it pained her. She couldn't have been involved in something that did this to her brother.

"Okay, that was it so far, thank you for your assistance. Now, how can we help you?", Rossi used his calming voice, he must've noticed how much she worried, too.

"I just want to know what the hell is happening and why it has to be my family...we never did a thing to harm any one", her voice broke ever so slightly before she got hold of herself again, keeping composed. She also didn't like displaying weakness, Spencer figured.

"All we know the kidnapper found his way around the security-staff and forced your parents to drive him away from the property, there's no GPS tracks of the car, so we don't know where he took them. He left your brother in the house after he put him in this state with his ransom demand", Rossi answered calmly.

Her face flinched a couple times through his statement, at the words 'forced' and 'left your brother in this state', she took a beat before talking again.

"How much does he want?", she asked.

"80 Million Dollars", at that her jaw dropped.

"From whom?"

"He didn't specify", Rossi looked at her fiercely, as if he was trying to catch the blow she took with his stare alone.

"I don't have 80 Million Dollars", she whispered and her body seemed to have lost all stability, she reached out blindly for the end of the bed and grabbed nothing twice before she held on to the bedpost tightly to steady and support her.

"Miss Hansen, I can promise you, we will give it our all to safe your parents"

"Thank you", she said under her breath but didn't look up from the floor, "has he called you yet? Tell you until when he wants the money?"

"Not yet, we will momentarily inform you, when it happens", Rossi reassured her and she just nodded weakly.

Spencer just stood there. Something had cracked loudly inside of him when she lost her composed posture. It hurt him to see her suffer like that, to see her features darkening, the glim of hope weakening in her eyes. He felt sick, both because of her sate and the fact that he felt that way about it. He really needed to get it together.

"Reid, I'm going to talk to his doctor about the beating, maybe that'll tell us something for the profile", Rossi said quietly to Spencer, turning away from Louise.

Spencer wordlessly followed until-

"Why don't you ask her about the princess-thing?", he held the lanky guy back, putting his open palm against his shoulder. Spencer felt his face grimace something expressing protest.

"I know she's pretty, but you can't shy away from questioning the pretty girls for the rest of your life, kid", he whispered for only Spencer to hear who knew he was right. After the faintest hint of Spencer's hesitant nod, Rossi left the room and him with the girl.

He stood there a couple of heartbeats in silence and tried to search his brain for the function of his mouth and how speaking worked.

"Anything more, quiet boy?", she asked after another couple of heartbeats, resigned, eyeing him tiredly.

"Um...uh...my name is Spencer", he corrected her automatically and the next second,wanted to hit his head against something solid at the stupidity of that remark.

"Anything more, Spencer?", she repeated just as tired and hopeless as before.

"Um...the...uh...the ransom de-demand of the unsub, it said: 'Tell my Pirate Princess I'm coming to rescue her'...does that ring a b-", he stopped mid sentence when he saw her freeze on the spot, her face became white as a sheet and she looked a little like she would get sick every moment, "Louise? It's okay, what does it mean?"

A new wave of fear shattered the girl and Spencer just as much when he saw it happen to her, tearing her apart, even if he hated to admit. But it obviously did ring a bell, Spencer just wondered which.

"That's...that's...", now she stuttered, as if saying it pained her, she seemed to be disbelieving in face of the revelation, afraid of what it meant, "Pirate princess is my screen name...my blog...it's......"

Spencer's head was spinning momentarily. They had a trace to the unsub now, and it was a different one than expected.