A/N: Hey all, two in one day! Crazy, I know. Please R&R, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

The team sat on the jet, going over the case they had been given earlier that day. There was a palpable tension in the cabin of the small aircraft and everyone knew the reason. Reid and Hotch had argued before the team left for California. Hotch did not want Reid to come with the rest of the the team, he wanted him to stay and work this case from Quantico. Reid had told him there was no way he was going to sit around while people were being killed. The real reason for this argument? Well that was simple enough. Worry.

Hotch was worried about what might happen, because Reid fit the victimology to a T. When the pictures of the victim popped up on the screen everyone had been speechless. They all could have been Reid's brothers for how alike they looked. And they all had an above average intelligence- not nearly as high as Reid's- but still above average. Oh, yeah, this guy had a type. And Reid just happened to be that type. That, made everyone on edge.

"Okay," Hotch said, breaking the tense silence. "This guy likes to kill by hand."

"He strangles them," Morgan said sounding uncomfortable. "Why?"

"Well, despite the popular belief, strangling someone with your bare hands, especially a grown man, takes strength. Like, a lot of it. And stamina. Much more difficult than TV would have you believe. Which would mean that this guy is probably young, and fit. It would also mean that he is dedicated to killing this way, as most killers would try and, upon realizing how difficult it is, settle for using something like rope or a belt." Reid told the group, determined to make this as least awkward as possible.

"Alright, so it is important to him to strangle them" Prentiss looked up from her case file. "But why is it so important?" She posed the question.

"... I don't know." Reid said, a phrase that rarely came out of the geniuses mouth, which was unnerving in and of itself.

..

Reid's eyes drifted open and he saw the roof of a car. The truck was moving and street lights illuminated the interior of the truck when they passed them. Why am I laying on the floor of a moving truck? His mind asked him. He was too tired to answer and he felt his eyes drift closed again.

…..

Reid and Morgan rode in the same SUV, going to the last crime scene.

"Morgan, you guys don't need to worry." Reid said quietly. Morgan grumbled something unintelligible under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse.

"Of course we need to worry! You've seen the victims, doesn't it freak you out?"

"Well, obviously it freaks me out. But I can take care of myself, you know."

"Damnit Reid!" Morgan shouted, hitting his hand on the steering wheel. "You are a danger magnet! Or have you forgotten about that completely?"

"I'm not going to let a psychopath stop me from doing my job."

"And no one's asking you to stop doing your job. We just want you to do it safer." Reid snorted at this.

"We're FBI agents. There is nothing safe about this job."

"Yes, but this is another level." Morgan argued.

"What if it was you?"

"What?"

"What if men that looked like you were dying? Don't try to convince me you would stay at Quantico. I don't even believe that you would stay at a field office."

"That's different." Reid turned large hazel eyes on him.

"How?" Morgan opened his mouth, but couldn't think of an adequate response. Instead, he turned back to the road, effectively ending the conversation.

..

Reid was vaguely aware of the truck stopping and one of the doors opening and closing. The door by his head opened and a pair of strong hands grabbed him under his bound (When had his hands been tied?) arms. He was dragged across what felt like a gravel driveway and his head lolled back against whoever was dragging him. He didn't much care at this point. He didn't even fight the darkness that consumed him.

…..

Reid stood before the geographical profile, studying the map and the red pins he stuck into it. Each red pin was a victim. A person whose life was cut short. He wanted to get this guy. Garcia's voice over the speakers of the computer snapped him out of his thoughts. He had most definitely not been paying attention.

"I got it!" Garcia exclaimed. "His name is Bryan Baker," she listed his home and work address, setting the team into action. All accept Reid, who was told to stay at the station. He sighed and begrudgingly agreed. And then his team was gone, to get the bad guy.

..

Reid was jolted when his bound feet hit one of the concrete steps particularly hard. He grunted as he was dropped on the concrete floor a few minutes later and he heard a laugh from Bryan's blurry retreating form. Reid let his head fall back against the cold floor. He deduced that he was in a basement. It wasn't damp, but it was cold and he could see a small window from where he was positioned. The window looked to be at ground level as he could see grass growing directly under it. It was nighttime and he wondered if anyone knew he was gone.

…..

When the team made it back to the station, Reid was disappointed to see that they had no Bryan.

"What happened?" He asked as soon as they were close enough.

"He wasn't there." JJ said, shaking her head. Rossi muttered something that sounded like a curse.

"At either location." Rossi added for good measure.

"Then lets find him." Hotch growled, walking past the members of his team. They knew he felt personally responsible for every member of his team, and that this guys choice of victim was making him bristle, even if he had never really indicated that he would go after Reid directly. Hotch turned on the computer screen and Garcia popped up.

"Did you get him?" She asked.

"No. We need you to find him." Hotch told her.

"If he is on this plane of existence, you know I will find him." She said, stealing a glance at Reid. "Garcia out." And she was gone.