"Reid, man, wake up. We're almost there." Morgan shook the younger man awake.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm awake." Reid rubbed his eyes.

"Hey man, you're not still having those dreams, are you?" Morgan asked, referring to Reid's nightmares about his childhood.

"No, no... I'm not. Not anymore."

"That's good, man. People always say it's better to live for the future than dwell in the past."

"Actually... the dreams still are about my past. Just not about Riley Jenkins..."

"Really?"

"Yes... they uh... my dreams have been about my old friend, actually. She grew up down the street from me..." He trailed off, remembering.

Morgan grinned, "Come on, kid, we got work to do."

Hotch walked around the plane, handing out files. "These came in from the New Haven P.D. Someone has been killing people in the same way as the Harper's Island TV show. So far there's four people missing from the campus and four dead. One was found tied to the bottom of a boat, like the first victim on the show."

Rossi continued, "Another was found hanging from a beam in her dorm room with red dye injected in her eyes, like the fourth victim on the show. Yet another was found sliced in half at the same time one more was found cut up in the same lake the boat with the first victim was found. These last two were the eighth and the third victims on the show."

"Is the UnSub killing people in the order of the show?" Prentiss asked.

JJ answered, "We can't be sure. I've done some research on the show, and the day that the victims are killed isn't necessarily the same day that they're found."

"Those could be the missing people," said Reid.

"So this guy could be killing people in the same order as the show, but we won't know until we find them," Morgan said.

"Or him," Hotch added.

The plane landed and the team drove to the Yale campus where the dean of the college and chief of New Haven police were waiting. The campus was large and ancient-looking. The buildings were old, the main building still had pillars on it, but the dorms looked like new buildings. The dean was a short woman with shorter red hair, wearing a pinstriped skirt-suit combination. The chief of police was a rather large man, both in stature and waist-width, and balding. He stood with his hands on his hips and was wearing a light blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves. The team unloaded from their SUVs. They were walking to the office of the campus when suddenly Reid stopped.

"Morgan," he said, staring at someone a couple yards down the sidewalk, "hold this," and he passed his messenger bag off to Morgan as he started to run down the sidewalk.

"What? Reid... Reid!"

But Reid didn't hear him. All he could see was a girl. He didn't know what possessed him to do this. But he couldn't get over how much she looked like her. It had to be her. It had to be. She was wearing a long sleeve white shirt under a striped hoodie with the sleeves cut off and a pair of jeans so worn that the bottoms were just threads. She carried a cloth messenger bag with fringe on the bottom and rolls of paper sticking out, most likely posters from an art class. He was almost caught up to her now, soon he would find out if it was really her. All of a sudden she saw someone, a guy, and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around him and they hugged. Reid stopped. If this was her, then there was no point.

He turned and went back to Morgan who was standing there with his bag. "What was that all about, man?"

Reid took his bag back. "Nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew."

"Who?"

"Nobody."

The killer pulled out his harpoon to sharpen it. He took aim, fired, and then pulled the rope, bringing the dummy back with it. The harpoon had gone straight through its midsection and out the other side. He smiled to himself, thinking of the next person's face when they saw the harpoon sticking out of their stomach.

The police chief began to speak as soon as they were in the building. "I told the FBI that we had this under control, but as soon as the third and fourth victims showed up, they sent you guys over no questions asked."

"Do we have any leads?" Hotch asked.

"One. It's also probably one of the reasons that you guys were involved. I've been told she's on the FBI's 'watch list.' Other than that, we have no reason to suspect her, or anyone else for that matter. Her name's Joaquina Mancuso. She's an English major, lives over in dorm B with a girl in her class."

There was a clear board in the middle of the room that looked like it could be a new version of the SmartBoard. It lit up, showing a girl's smiling face. They all glanced at the picture, but only Reid looked at it a second time. She had black hair cut to her shoulders, her hand was up by her face, in the middle of tucking her hair back from the gust of wind that had just blown. Her eyes were dark brown, almost black, her face was open and she was smiling like there wasn't a care in the world. Beneath her picture were pictures of the dead and missing students, but Reid could only look at the one of the suspect. He knew that picture. It was as familiar to him as his own two hands. He had taken that picture.

"Let's bring her in, see what she knows." Rossi sugested, and as they began to leave the room, Reid pulled Morgan aside.

"What is it, Reid?"

"That girl..."

"What, Reid?"

"Remember what I told you on the plane? About the girl who grew up down the street from me?"

"Yeah, man, but what does that have to do with any of this?"

"I saw her today... That was the person I was running after. That..." He pointed at the screen, "That's her."