So Near Yet So Far Part 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.

There are three more chapters after this, which are with my Beta - will post as soon as I can.

Oh, you've gotta live every single day
Like it's the only one, what if tomorrow never comes?
Don't let it slip away, could be our only one
You know it's only just begun, every single day
Maybe our only one, what if tomorrow never comes?
Tomorrow never comes
. . . . .

Reid was not happy with the way time seemed to be slipping away. Each step forward in tracing Doyle was followed by taking two steps backwards. He was good, too good. Doyle led them down paths they didn't need to go, he knew they were onto him and he was enjoying the game. He was taunting them and none of them liked it.

Meanwhile every chance Spencer got he was in with Garcia, borrowing her laptop, to talk to Emily. Conversation was flowing now. He was surprised how easy it was for him to talk to her this way. Spencer had to admit, after the initial awkwardness, he was able to tell her anything and everything, including how he felt about her. He just hoped he could tell her face to face.

Spencer lived each day as it came, like he had when he faced his addiction. He had won that battle, he would overcome this. He had to believe there was a light at the end of the tunnel, even if he couldn't see it yet. Spencer fought his way out of bed each day, not wanting to leave the sweet dreams he had had. He struggled to focus each morning on the tasks he had been assigned, itching to continue with his work on tracking Doyle; he swore he could hear him laughing. Relief came at lunchtime when he would chat with Em, telling her all the office gossip that she longed to hear, why puzzled him.

Each day was a personal battle, frustration was eating him up. He wanted to grab Hotch and shake him. Nothing was as important as getting Emily back, why could no-one else in the team see that? Why were they not doing everything they could to get her back? Why did she have to fit around everything else? Each time they got called into the conference room his heart sunk, more time away from helping Emily.

But today was even worse. He was late in due to an appointment at the hospital. The news was good, but bad, depending on your viewpoint.

Walking into the bullpen he headed straight for Hotch's office. He knocked and waited, in no rush to enter and share his news.

"Come in," Hotch finally called.

Spencer entered, noticing Rossi was there, the two had obviously been sharing some case notes, from the files open in front of them. Hastily Rossi cleared them, probably their next case.

Spencer hovered uncomfortably.

"Sit down," Hotch indicated the chair in front of his desk. Rossi still hadn't spoken.

"How did it go at the hospital?" Rossi asked.

"They're pleased with the progress I've made; apparently I am a good healer," Reid didn't make it sound a good thing.

"That's good, isn't it?" Rossi tried to encourage. It had become overtly obvious to all of the team how effected by all of this Reid was. They had assumed that being stuck in Quantico, trawling through Prentiss' files was getting him down. They thought that once he was fit enough to get back into the field, then he would pick up again.

Reid just shrugged at his question. "Guess so, they think I could be considered for a return to the field."

"But...?"

"I have got a second opinion and they aren't so sure."

"Really," Rossi eyebrow arched, "and does this second opinion come with the name of the doctor?"

Reid looked at the ground. "Dr Reid," he mumbled, "I don't think I'm ready, and we'll lose JJ if I got back into the field and we're still short staffed without Emily. This way I can still help and we keep JJ," he added rapidly.

Rossi and Hotch looked at each other knowingly.

"Reid I think it would do you good to get away from here and all that is going on here. I will request that you have a FBI medical and psych evaluation as soon as possible, then we can discuss this again," Hotch summarised.

Reid nodded and stood to leave.

"Hey Kid, you know we haven't given up on Emily, don't you." Rossi asked.

That familiar shrug...again.

"Reid, just because it is not plastered all over the conference room boards doesn't make Doyle any less of a priority for us. We have to be careful; Strauss has made this clear it is not our case. Interpol are doing things their way, so are we," looking at Reid's face, Hotch finally understood how he felt.

Reid left, returning to his desk.

"It's more than missing a colleague, isn't it?" Rossi turned to face Hotch.

"Looking that way. I don't know how we missed it before."

"Do you think he should be in the field, if his mind isn't fully on the job?"

"We'll take him with us and keep him at the base and see what happens."

. . . . .

Derek was waiting at Reid's desk.

"How's it going? You fixed yet?" he asked.

"Oh yes, fit and well to return to work." Reid added sarcastically.

Morgan's brow furrowed. "What's the problem then?"

"All this," he indicated the whole room, "everyone carrying on as if nothing has happened. Has everyone forgotten Emily is out there on her own? What happens if we don't catch Doyle? How long does Emily hide? I can't face the possibility that tomorrow will never come, that we will never see her again."

"Right, this way," Derek practically dragged Spencer to his office.

Pushing him into a soft chair, Derek drew another up to face him.

"I like you. You're a great kid," Derek's head dropped, "God, I should probably stop calling you that, but I can't help it. I know you really like Emily." Reid went to interrupt, but Morgan was quick to silence him. "I know this is tearing you apart, but we are not ignoring what has happened, I know you are working the case. Hotch is listening to you and assigning us all jobs to do going on what you have found out. Trust me the hours Pen is spending on the computer, I know, last time we had a movie night she never left her laptop alone. You are not the only person hurting, but if you don't keep a lid on it Strauss will find out, then . . ."

Morgan didn't need to spell that out for him.

"All I can think of is Foyet and Frank, and how things ended with them."

Morgan shook his head slowly. He could understand how worried Reid was and was running out of words of encouragement.

"We all knew this wouldn't be easy, but none of us thought it would take this long. He will make a mistake soon, and then we'll be there to catch him."

. . . . .

Reid sat staring at the screen. It had been over half an hour, but still nothing. Garcia came breezing back in.

"Hey Lover boy, what's happening in EP world."

"Nothing," he said, worry evident in his voice.

"OK, you don't have to share, just tell her I love her and will catch up with her later."

"I can't, she's not answering."

Penelope pulled a face, "Guess she's busy or something."

"But she knows I try and get in touch at this time of day. I needed to talk to her."

"Honey, you know Em she will not be sitting around doing nothing all day, waiting for one of us to contact her. That would drive her up the wall. She's probably lost track of time, tell you what if I hear anything this afternoon I'll let you know."

. . . . .

Reid's phone rung; groggily he reached for it, it was only nine o'clock, but Reid had been fast asleep.

"Yes," he answered curtly.

"Reid, it's me," Garcia's tone was strained, "Can you come over, quickly?"

Reid agreed, put the phone down and left.

Arriving at Garcia's apartment he ascended the stair quickly. Knocking, he waited impatiently.

"Quick, come in," Garcia practically pulled him as she opened the door.

"What's the matter?"

"She's still not answering and in the last hour someone has tried to hack me. I worried Reid, what do we do?"

"Put me on," Reid said sitting on her couch, in front of her laptop.

Garcia typed away rapidly, and then pushed the laptop towards him.

'This is SSA Reid. Where is Emily?'

"Reid what are you doing?" horror filled Garcia's voice.

"Speaking to Doyle," he said confidently, "Call Hotch and the others, we need them here."

The laptop binged. They looked at each other then the screen.

'Dr Reid, I do hope you're not in too much pain now. Luck of the Irish must be with you, as I was assuming you'd be dead. But at least you'll have empathy for what Emily is about to face. It's her turn, and the beauty is that you have no idea where to start looking for her to save her.'

They both picked up their phones and started calling the team.

Once everyone had arrived Reid started to explain how they knew Doyle had Emily.

"Garcia, you have broken every rule I can think of, and probably some I don't know," Hotch was furious.

Penelope couldn't look up, "I'm sorry sir."

"Why did you not tell us?"

Garcia looked up in surprised, her mouth opening but nothing coming out. "I . . . I . . . I don't understand sir."

"You shouldn't have done what you did, but at least we know Doyle has Prentiss, without this we may never have known until it was too late. Is there any way of using it to find out where she is?"

"If I let them hack me, I can back-hack and see if that locates them."

"Do it."

Penelope begun to type frantically, as if her own life depended on it.

Ironically, it did. More than ever.