A/N: Hey look a new chapter... sorry it's taken so long but don't worry theres about three other chapters for me to add after this one so don't come hunt me down please.... hehehe

Anyway, enjoy and please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds etc. etc.

The doctor was pleased to report that everything seemed to be going on track. He was well on his way to recovery. He just wished he could remember his name. Or something useful. As he lay in his bed trying hard to remember something there was a knocking at his door. He turned to look and found himself looking at two detectives. He didn't know how he knew they were detectives, it was just something he had started doing. He was able to read peoples expressions, their body language and if he spent a little bit of time with them, he could tell you about their lives to. He had been doing this since he had woken up. Whenever he wasn't asleep he would try to figure out what was going on with other people. He didn't know why he was doing this but it felt like something he did often. Almost like he profiled people.

At that thought another flashback consumed his mind. It was his own voice accompanied by another, the one who had spoken before.

"Are you profiling me?"

"…Derek, you're in trouble…"

He had a name… Derek… he turned back to the two men in the doorway, a smile on his face, the first true one since he had woken up.

"Sir, Can we come in?"

Derek nodded, indicating with his hand the two chairs beside his bed. He didn't tell them about his name straight away. Instincts kept him from doing so.

"My name is Detective Wakeman and this is Detective Gap. We're the detectives in charge of your case. Now as we understand you haven't been able to remember much about yourself. Is that right?"

He nodded. "I'm getting flashes but nothing useful."

"Alright. Now I'm going to ask you some question and hopefully this will help trigger some memories. You were found outside a restaurant called The Riverboat. Does that mean anything to you?"

Derek frowned as he thought.

"The Riverboat…"

He was at a table talking to a man with a large burn scar down the left side of his face. They were alone but as he looked around he could see three men with guns standing at the doorway.

"Now Mike, what brings you to my place of business? You know you're in a bad place with me after that last hit. He wasn't supposed to live!"

"I have information…"

He sat in the bed, unsure of what to do. He was stunned. Was his name Derek or was it Mikey? And what had he been into? Bombs, hits, profiling people. They all seemed like bad news. He sounded like a terrorist or a mob man. He realised the two detectives were exchanging a look and he knew he had to say something.

"I think I remember my first name… Derek… but that's all I've got."

He sighed, letting his frustration show just enough to put them at ease. Best to let them figure out who Derek was while he worked on Mike.

"Alright then, Derek."

"What about this?"

Detective Gap pulled a small plastic bag out of his jacket pocket and held it up for Derek to see. Inside was a small book. On the cover was a picture of a boat, with The Riverboat written down the side. Derek just stared at it. He had a nagging feeling he had seen it before but no memory jumped out at him. He shook his head slightly.

"Nothing sorry."

"Alright then. We'll be back in a few days. We'll see what we can find on Derek. We want your permission to put your picture on the news, just a drawing and for your safety we'll say you died from your injuries. We want to find out who you are as much as you do."

He nodded.

"Do it."

The two detectives got up to leave.

"Thanks for your time Derek. We'll see you later. For your… safety, we're going to be keeping the guards at the door."

Derek snorted. His safety, they thought he was into something and he knew it. He needed to figure out what was going on now. The two detectives left with another nod of their heads. Derek didn't know what to make of this all. He moved slightly in the bed, trying to figure out how much movement he could get away with before the pain became too much. Almost immediately he gasped as it ran through his entire body. He breathed harshly but deeply, trying to get the nausea to go down. This was going to take awhile. He sighed in frustration. The Riverboat, that book, Mike, Derek, profiling, bombs. It all kept going through his mind, a loop of words. He clenched his uninjured hand in anger. Almost instantly he had another flash. He was in a squad room talking to a young man, who looked like he was just out of school. He instantly knew he respected this man and that he was a friend.

"Reid, you were her hero."

That was it. That name was important, he knew it.

"Reid…" he muttered to himself.

He was standing with a group of people watching a group of computer screens. He couldn't believe how worried and disgusted he was. His friend was being tortured and there was nothing he could do. The anger began building when a man on the screen injected Reid with something. He closed his eyes in despair. They had to find him. Reid didn't deserve this.

He sat in silence, staring at the wall opposite him. It was silent in his room beside the occasional drip from the IV hooked up to his arm and the beeping of the heart monitor he still had to have. He was beginning to feel tired again. It had been two days since he had woken up and ever since he had been feeling extremely tired. It would just hit him and within minutes he would be asleep. He had been getting better at staying awake. Something was telling him it would be best if he was awake and alert as much as possible. He was mixed up in something very dangerous and if he wasn't careful the person or persons could come back and finish the job. Whatever he was into he thought bitterly, he should really think about changing careers.

Yawning loudly he lay back against the bed, grimacing at the pain it caused. He fell asleep in minutes. His final thought was of the mysterious blonde woman who he knew would be looking for him. The question was, why hadn't she found him?