I'm sorry, this chapter is going to be quite short, but I felt something needed to be said, and though I have an idea of what to write next, I was having trouble going about it when I wrote this. So just a temporary fix for you, hopefully it's decent, enjoy. :)

"So. He's targeting young people of different genders and ethnicities. That's why we didn't see the connection. He uses a drug store narcotic to knock them out, then keeps them at an unknown location before stabbing them and leaving their bodies in the woods." The man struggled to justify his departments lack of action and his eyes pleaded with the agents.

Rossi jotted the information down on a notepad, and JJ nodded at the detective. "We'll need the case file... everything you have on this case."

"Right. You should know we don't have many leads though... we really need your help on this one." He scratched his head absently, and handed her the nearest boxes on each murder. "The rest are in that room there..." He pointed at an open door to their left.

"Thank you detective... we'll be in touch." JJ smiled pleasantly at the man.

They retrieved the boxes then made their way out- exiting out the back door and driving back to the hospital with new information.

The group met in the hospital lobby and discussed what they knew of the case.

"So his victims are between 20 and 30... all physically non-threatening... he may have a physical ailment of some sort? He probably drives an old truck for transporting bodies... the jogger heard an engine starting up."

"Right, and he stabs them, almost always a sign of sexual motivations."

"Guys... I know we're dreading it, but we'll have a lot more information when we talk to Reid."

They sighed. They knew Morgan was right, but they'd been avoiding that task like the plague. It would be hard.

The team finally made their way to room 210 as if they were walking to the gallows.

Hotch's fist hovered over the peeling off white paint of the door to Reid's room, and-though his expression gave nothing away, his mouth forming it's usual grim line, he was terrified of what he might see... what state his agent might be in. Reid was his responsibility, and he cared for and respected the young man. he didn't know what he'd do if he lost him. With that thought, he took a deep breath and gave a hesitant knock. The rest of the team could sense the team leaders inner turmoil. They all felt it. Felt the fear for the youngest member of the team like a thick fog. It suffocated all 5 agents. There was an intake of breath as they awaited an answer. After a few tense seconds, they heard a quiet throat clearing, followed by a muffled "come in". The fog was easily lifted. There was a collective sigh of relief.

"Thank god. Boy genius rises from the dead once again" Morgan seemed fully aware that his humour was inappropriate at such a time, but was too elated to care. The kid was awake and talking. Awake and talking! The rest of the Team felt the sudden ease as strongly as he did, and laughed with him, Pushing the door forwards to greet their friend. The sight wasn't quite as cheerful as they had hoped.

Reid didn't look all that great to be honest. Yes he was awake, and yes he was talking, but his voice was weak and dull. Though his face held a small smile, It didn't reach his eyes. They were haunted and dark. Physically, he wasn't much better. The usual shadows beneath his eyes had deepened from lack of sleep. He was exceedingly pale from blood loss, his usual flush was lost. His hair was lank and dirty and hung messily around his face. His hands were wrapped tightly in gauze, his arms sporting cuts and bruises from broken glass, and blows from his captor. He had a nasty looking bruise on his jaw, and they could tell from his expression that he was in immense pain. And that's just what they could see.

"Nice to see you pretty boy." Morgan's grin faltered upon entrance, but soon picked up again-though less genuine than before.

"You had us pretty worried for a while..." Prentiss took his hand as she sat in the padded blue and white chair at his bedside. She smiled lightly, attempting to rekindle some of the original joy she felt at his response, but he just looked so... sad.

Reid cleared his throat again. "'m fine." As he looked around at the thoroughly unconvinced faces of his coworkers, he almost laughed. He just tried to tell a room full of profilers that he was perfectly fine after being stabbed 11 times by a psycopath... some genius he was.

"Like hell you are." JJ stared intently at the young genius before Morgan continued.

"Reid, you really scared us. What the hell did you do to make some freak want to kill you this time huh? Maybe put an ad out? Age 26, Occupation FBI, Is Searching for mentally unstable murderer with a preference for nerds..." Morgan joked with him, but his voice had a dangerous edge to it.

"Morgan..." Hotch warned, glancing towards Reid with every word. Morgan quickly plastered a smile onto his face an turned to Spencer, but it dropped immediately. Apparently, they weren't at the stage where they could joke about it. His face had crumpled. Tears sprung into his eyes at the comment. It wasn't like he searched for trouble... and the man that did this... wasn't just a murderer. He was a butcher.

"Spence" JJ gently put a hand on his shoulder, her eyes brimming with concern.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about what happened to you. And I'm sorry we're overwhelming you, but you know we're going to need you to answer some questions." She paused. "And know that we're all here for you Spence. No matter what happens from now on, he Cannot hurt you. Alright?"

Reid met her gaze, and nodded shortly as the rest of the team smiled gratefully at the young blonde.

"Okay kiddo. Can you tell us your story? From the beginning... if your ready." Rossi spoke softly, as if afraid he might scare him off, though he did look slightly better after JJ's reassurance, his eyes no longer filled with a need to escape... but with a new need... the look in his eyes was that which he got when he locked his keys in his car and was trying to figure out how to get to them. when he wanted to a crack a code, or decipher a hidden message. When he was scanning the information he had catalogued away into the recesses of his mind, plucking a file and allowing it's contents to open up to him... His gaze was determined. His jaw set. And with this newfound determination, he began his story. His voice didn't waver, and his eyes never left those of his colleagues. Not once.