A/N: Teensy tiny spoiler for "Fisher King"


It was Wednesday morning and Prentiss was staring morosely at her breakfast French fries. "I dreamt of carrot sticks last night," she said. "Carrot sticks and apples." She was sitting on the floor with her back to wall and her head tipped back as she regarded the single French fry she had clasped between her thumb and index finger.

"You're twisted," Morgan told her from the cot where he sat with JJ's feet in his lap. Hotchner and Gideon sat on the other cots.

"Am not," Prentiss defended herself. "I just can't wait to eat something that crunches when you chew it. Aren't you sick of this food?"

"Sure, but I don't dream of vegetables."

Hotchner rubbed his temples as he listened to the two of them. Prentiss and Morgan were driving him to the brink. Gideon was as always a pillar of patience and JJ was subdued by her injury and slept a lot. He himself was also well practiced in the art of waiting. But Morgan and Prentiss' sense of patience was of a more selective kind. They were both action people, problem solvers. They preferred to meet their problems and challenges head on. Sitting idly by, not being able to help themselves was grating on their nerves, which made them bicker excessively.

Things would've been different if they had been in a different sort of danger. If they'd been tied up, beaten or tortured, either for information or for sport. Then there would've been something for them to focus on, somewhere to direct their anger, something to act as an outlet for their energy.

As things were now, they still had a certain amount of freedom, three meals a day and running water. Now they were just waiting. Waiting for the next step, and that was what sat so wrong with Morgan and Prentiss. That was why they bickered so much. But just because Hotchner understood this didn't mean he had the patience to listen to it any longer.

"There's lettuce on the burger," Morgan offered.

"Yeah, it's not exactly crisp though, is it?" Prentiss said sarcastically.

Hotchner exploded. "Enough already!"

Prentiss and Morgan quieted and looked surprised at him. "Enough already," he said again, but softer.

Suddenly there was giggle from JJ. She had curled up in a fetal position on the cot, with one hand crammed under the pillow and the other one wedged between her knees and now she was giggling and moved her hand up to press against her head as she couldn't stop giggling even though it hurt.

The others stared surprised at her. They'd barely been able to make contact with her for days and now she was laughing? Slowly Morgan too broke out in a grin that turned into a laugh. Prentiss was next to follow.

"Sorry," she apologized to Hotchner between sniggers. "We're behaving like five year olds."

Hotchner waved her apology away with a smile. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.


Shortly after seven thirty Reid stumbled bleary eyed out of Gideon's office, disappointed that there hadn't been any news worth waking him up over during the night. His two man entourage took him to a gym locker room so he could shower, shave and change his clothes. Reid had actually slept pretty well during the night, being exhausted had helped. But a short arm chair and a long body inevitably led to stiffness and sore muscles, so the shower was welcome.

Afterwards they went down to the in-house cafeteria where Reid picked his way through some scrambled eggs and French toast, downing it all with several cups of coffee.

Then they went back up to the bullpen, Reid's hand still curled around a warm coffee cup… and his world was turned upside down yet again.

"Reid!" Garcia sounded utterly distraught. "Reid! Help me!"

She was standing in between two agents who both had a firm grip around her arms. Arms that were cuffed behind her back.

Reid's mouth dropped open and Jensen grabbed the coffee cup out of his hands before he dropped it.

"Wh- what are you doing?" He looked around for Dobson, instinctually knowing that he was somehow responsible for this. Finding him he strode over angrily.

"Dobson, what's going on? What are you doing?"

Dobson didn't quite look at him. "My job. Garcia is an accomplice in the kidnapping of your team."

Reid just gaped for a moment before finding his tongue again. "That's- that's preposterous. Have you lost your mind? Release her, now."

"No Doc, that's not going to happen," Dobson said, waving to the agents to take Garcia away. "We've got plenty of evidence to corroborate our suspicions. Garcia has a hand in this. She's the link we need to get Hotchner and the others back."

"No." Reid shook his head, took a few steps back and turned around, walking purposely towards Garcia. "No, you're wrong," he called over his shoulder. He reached out and took one of Garcia's arms, pulling her away from one of the agents.

"Let her go," he said angrily, but in a second Lee and Jensen were there, taking a hold of him and pulling him away, ignoring his struggles. "No, stop it, let me go, let her go. Dobson, stop this!"

Dobson nodded to the two agents to get Garcia out of there and they started frog marching her towards the elevators again while Reid helplessly watched, trying to pull free from Lee's arm locked around his chest. He wanted to run after her, tell her that he would fix everything, that everything would be all right. But he didn't know if he could fix anything right now, he didn't know if anything would ever be all right again. He just didn't know.

"No, stop it. You're making a mistake. I haven't done anything," Garcia pleaded with her guards. "Reid! Help me! So something! Call Henry!"

Reid continued to struggle against the grip that held him until Dobson stepped in front of him.

"You're really pushing it right now, Doc. Is it too much for me to expect a little cooperation from you? Your entire team has been taken, for god's sake!"

"Yes, I know," Reid shot back hotly. "I just watched you take the last one."

The elevator doors closed, leaving Reid with the vision of Garcia's scared face burned into his mind. The bullpen was utterly silent, the regular staff there was shocked, not knowing what to believe.

As soon as the elevator doors were closed, Lee let go of Reid, who immediately turned his accusing and angry eyes on Dobson. "I want to know what's going on and I want to know now. No more secrets. We're talking about my team here."

"Follow me." Dobson said, heading off towards the round table room. He'd expected this and had set up a special briefing for Reid.

Landon Jones sat by the table with his laptop in front of him when they came in.

"Sit down, Doc," Dobson said as he popped a nicotine gum out of a blister pack.

Reid didn't.

Dobson shrugged, showing that he understood the gesture, but didn't care.

"It seems like your girl's been keeping secrets from you."

Reid swallowed the protest that Garcia wasn't hisgirl to see where Dobson was heading. Instead he said, "Everyone has secrets."

"True," Dobson agreed, "But some are worse than others. And that…" he pointed to the picture of Donnie Nelson hanging on a white board. "That's Garcia's cousin."

Reid could feel the surprise showing on his face and his crossed arms sank down to hang at his sides. "That's… I… What?"

"Flesh and blood relative. Funny how she forgot to tell you that when the first ransom demand came, isn't it? And funny how she's been neglecting to tell you ever since, huh?" Dobson sounded rather spiteful.

Reid shook his head, regaining his composure. "That doesn't prove anything. She can't help who she's related to. And you can't put people in jail just for being related to a terrorist."

"We've got more," Dobson said, looking pleased with himself. "Jones has spent the better part of the night searching Garcia's computers. Go on, Jones, show him what you've found."

Reid looked at Jones, frowning. "What were you doing on her computers?" Even though the BAU did the same to their suspects and victims all the time, he felt like it was an enormous invasion of Garcia's privacy. She was her computers in a way Reid couldn't quite understand.

"He was searching them on my orders," Dobson said. "And a good thing it was too."

With an apologetic smile, Jones handed Reid a folder. Reid took it, looking warily at Dobson as he opened it. The content sent him fumbling blindly for a chair and he sat down heavily.

It was photos, blown-up photos of his team and it didn't take a genius to figure out that they had been taken by the kidnappers. Reid spread them out on the table in front of him, his eyes darting from one to the other. Pictures were supposed to say more than a thousand words, but right now they weren't saying the right words. They didn't tell him if his teammates were breathing or not. They didn't tell him where they were. They didn't tell him if they were okay. In fact, they told him the opposite.

JJ looked the worst. Blood covered her pale face and had run down, soaking her pink blouse. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open and he fervently hoped she was just unconscious. She had a grotesque lump on her forehead where clotted blood stuck her hair together in stiff clumps.

Prentiss, Gideon and Hotchner were all blindfolded. Prentiss looked unhurt while Hotchner had dried blood around his nose. Gideon's face was peppered with tiny cuts and scrapes and his jaw was set in a way very familiar to Reid. That meant that he, at least, was alive and awake underneath the blindfold.

Morgan's photo was a little different. He was lying on his stomach, his arms bound behind his back, but without a blindfold. His eyes were closed, his face slack. The skin around the eye that was showing was puffy and discolored and a big, bloody lump protruded from the back of his head, a rivulet of blood trailing down his neck.

Pushing the faces of his teammates aside, Reid tried to look professionally at the pictures. What else could they tell him? Was there any clue as to where the team was being held? They were all lying on a concrete floor. As far as Reid could tell it was the same one. Did that mean that they were all together? He hoped so, that would simplify a potential rescue. The photos were clean of any other identifiable objects, except for JJ's. In one corner above her head a heavy-linked chain trailed across the floor. Reid didn't want to know what that was used for.

On Prentiss' photo, the tip of a scuffed steel toed boot showed, but that didn't give him any clues either, other than convince him that Prentiss was alive too, or had been when the photo was taken. Otherwise there wouldn't have been any reason to hold her down.

"You found these on Garcia's computer?" he asked, slightly dazed.

"Yes," Jones said.

"Could you determine where they were sent from?" Reid asked, a sliver of hope that they could be traced back to an IP address, preferably one belonging to a computer stationed at the hiding place where his team was kept.

Jones shook his head. "They weren't sent from anywhere. They were probably uploaded from an external memory card or portable disc on two different occasions. Morgan and Prentiss' photos last Saturday, and the rest yesterday. They were all in a hidden, password protected, encrypted file together with information about your team."

"What kind of information?" Reid asked flatly.

Jones looked at Dobson who gave him a go-ahead gesture. "Information like addresses, living arrangements, family situation, interests outside work, habits…"

"In other words," Dobson said. "Everything you need to put together a couple of nice little kidnapping plans."

"All in all," Jones said. "The file has been updated about once a week for the last three months. We think that's when they started planning this."

"They who?" Reid asked bewildered.

"Garcia and the HBM," Dobson said. "Face it, Doc. She's been selling you out, and getting good money for it too. She's getting 50 grand for every kidnapping."

"What?" Reid looked quickly up at him. "What money? What are you talking about?"

"We've taken a look at her bank account," Dobson said. "Two hours after Morgan disappeared 50.000 dollars mysteriously appeared on the account. Same thing happened after Prentiss was kidnapped. On Sunday night, another 100.000 and then the day before yesterday, the 50 grand for Hotchner. I'm guessing there's 50.000 dollars earmarked for your kidnapping somewhere too. All this money has been traced back to the HBM's account. That's when we first started suspecting Garcia, when during our investigations of HBM's finances we found that they were depositing money onto her account."

"So do you think she's doing it for the money or out of loyalty for her cousin?" Reid asked cynically. "Garcia's not stupid. She wouldn't accept money that was so easily traceable."

"You can't still believe she's innocent?" Dobson asked incredulously.

"Someone else could've put that information there," Reid said feebly, working more on a gut feeling than any real arguments.

"Who? Who do you know that has access to her computers, Doc?"

Reid kept silent. In truth he knew that there was no one. Garcia was meticulous about computer security, especially since the Sir Kneighf debacle. Everything was protected and no one was allowed near the computers without her present. She always locked the room when she wasn't there.

"That's what I thought," Dobson said.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Reid asked weakly. "How could you not have told me about this?"

"And have you warn her beforehand?" Dobson shook his head. "I don't think so, Doc."

"But, Garcia's worked her since long before Nelson went to prison," Reid tried to argue.

"I'm not saying that she wasn't genuine at a time. But people change." Dobson's demeanor suddenly changed and he sat down opposite Reid. "Listen, Doc," he said sounding almost sympathetic. "I know this is hard for you. It would be for anyone. And I understand your loyalty to Garcia, I really do. It's always a sad thing when one of your own turns dirty. But if you want your team back you need to move beyond that and face the facts."

"But she's always been loyal to us, to the bureau." Reid looked at Dobson, searching for a hint that Dobson didn't want to believe this either, but he didn't find it.

"And yet Lee and Jensen heard her threatening to hack into our computers just yesterday," Dobson said.

Reid's eyes widened. "They- they heard that? But that doesn't mean anything, she was just frustrated, blowing off steam."

"She was plotting to hack into our computers!" Dobson said angrily. "She was going to compromise the computers of federal agents in order to find out information about an ongoing investigation that she was unauthorized for. And you knew and didn't tell me."

But Reid steadfastly shook his head. "There was nothing to tell! It was just a joke. Garcia didn't do this. She didn't ask anyone else to do it either, she would never condone it and she would never, ever kidnap any of her friends. I refuse to believe it. I'll never believe it."

Dobson stood up with such force that he sent his chair clattering on the floor. "Then you are of no more use to me. You're to stay here at the office at all times, but you're no longer a part of this investigation. Please leave this room."

Reid was shocked. "No! No, you can't do that. You have to let me-"

"No. If you don't want to help me find your team, then there's nothing for you here." Dobson grabbed Reid's arm and started pushing him out of the room.

Reid blanched. "Not want to help… But…"

But Dobson had shut him out. He was staring at a closed door.


TBC…