Hello everyone!

Here is another chapter especially long to make up for my absence! First of all, thank you to everyone who reviewed followed, and favorited this story. It's been so long that I don't remember if I have replied to your reviews or not. If I haven't, I apologize. Just know that I really appreciate your opinion.

Disclaimer: I don't own the show Criminal Minds or its characters.

Enjoy!

Chapter 12

Hotch walked into a waiting room. He didn't know what the department usually used it for, but it was a gray room with a sofa on the far wall under the window, an armchair on each side wall and two plants in the corners next to the sofa. Hector Faraday's wife, Violet, was sitting on the couch obviously trying to hold her tears back. She was trying not to break down. Hotch didn't blame her. She probably had been questioned numerous times and being called out here again must be taking a toll on her. "Mrs. Faraday," Hotch started speaking gently but firmly at the same time, "I'm Agent Hotchner with the FBI. How are you?"

"Hello. I'm sorry, but why am I here?" She said politely, but overwhelmed at the same time.

He sat on the armchair closest to the victim's wife and folded his hands in front of him as he said with a gentle voice, "I know this must be difficult for you ma'am, but the FBI is helping the police with the investigation and we'd like to ask you some questions of our own."

She seemed to consider what she heard for a moment, when suddenly she spoke, "Is this going to help you catch whoever killed my husband?"

Hotch nodded, "We think it will, yes."

She nodded frantically, pursing her lips in a tight line, "Then I'll do anything I can do to help."

Hotch started off with an easy question. "What did your husband do for a living?" He knew the answer already, but people in distress tended to rumble about their loved ones, wanting to relive their memories with them and that sometimes revealed valuable information.

"He was a corporate lawyer in a big firm that he owns," she started in a small voice. But remembering his passion for his job all those years, made her smile and want to share those moments with the agent. "He wasn't always that, you know. He started at criminal law, but we started a family and it took up too much of his time. He settled for corporate law that had a better schedule. At first he was worried that such department wasn't for him, but he…. He thrived. He eventually became a name partner, and we raised enough money for him to become managing partner when the firm was ready to sink. He… He revived the company and he got to practice law for twelve more years. I can't believe he's gone. He was ready to retire. He was ready to come home to me. But now…"She shook her head, staring at the plant by the couch.

Hotch registered the lack of eye contact and he decided it was time to keep the widow focused on the interview. "Mrs. Faraday, did your husband work alone?"

She looked at him confused, "No, of course not. Not lately. He was a part of a four membered group with other promising lawyers. He was training them so that one day they would do just as well in their lives. I remember lately that he was getting involved less and less. He told me he thought they were ready, and that… that retirement was coming soon." Her voice broke at the end at the knowledge that her husband was so close to finally closing that chapter of his life and was about to start a new one with her.

"Do you know who was supposed to take his place after he left?" If he raised such a firm by himself, then he must have decided long ago who would replace him afterwards.

The wife lost herself in thought as she tried to remember the answer, "Um, Lisa Kellers. She had been his partner for many years. There was no one he trusted more. He planned to keep his shares of the firm, but Lisa would be the one running it."

Hotch nodded, "Thank you, Mrs. Faraday. I appreciate it." He got up and was halfway out the door when the woman behind him made him stop.

"Agent Hotchner!" She called out to him. When he turned around and looked at her, she asked, "Did I help?"

He made sure they were in eye contact before he said, "Yes, you did ma'am." With that, Agent Hotchner left the room and went back to the conference room to wait for the others to finish their interviews so that they could compare notes with each other and maybe reach a conclusive profile soon.

JJ was sitting in front of a worried officer's desk. He was trying hard to hide it, but the lines on his forehead, his deep breathing and his uncomfortable stance as he was sitting in his chair betrayed his emotions to the young profiler. She started with a gentle voice, "So tell me what happened yesterday."

"Me and Jeremy were out patrolling the area assigned to us when a disturbance call came in two blocks away from us. We responded. I was driving and when we reached the house there was a man waiting outside looking infuriated. He started yelling about how he was trying to sleep and the he heard someone scream in the house behind him and how now because of them he wouldn't get his much needed sleep to work his night-shift later," the officer explained looking at the agent in front of him.

"You remember many details," JJ remarked.

"Honestly, ma'am, I couldn't forget it if tried. The man was loud. And even if he wasn't, I could never forget the time when partner was suddenly gone," the officer replied frankly.

The last sentence made JJ frown. "What do you mean 'gone'?"

"Well, we got out of the car and while Jeremy went to calm the man down, I went to check for any disturbances in the house. He was always the better of the two of us with people. He had this calming effect about him." The officer chuckled at the memory of his partner. He wasn't a social person. He was quiet, but the rest of the department didn't mind. He was good at his job. "Anyway, I knocked on the door and the owners insisted that no screaming had taken place here. I asked to check inside just to be sure and they let me in. When I got out, Jeremy was nowhere to be found and neither was that man."

"What did you do when you didn't see him out there?"

"I looked for him. I wasn't that long in that house, so I figured he couldn't have gone far. I looked in alleys, I knocked on doors, but no one had seen him. A minute later I was walking back to my cruiser, he sent me a text," the officer shrugged as if that was normal. He fumbled with his pockets as he said, "here, let me show you." He got his cell phone out of his pocket, unlocked the screen and brought up the message list for the agent to see. He pressed on the one with his partner's name on it and gave it to agent to read the last message Jeremy sent him.

JJ grabbed the phone and read the message. 'Hey, Ella needs me and I have to go. See you tomorrow at work.' "Who is Ella?"

"She's his sister. She's sick. She has leukemia and when things get tough, Jeremy leaves early to take care of her and I always cover for him if he needs it."

JJ gave back the phone to the officer and asked, "So nothing about this message seemed weird to you?"

The officer shook his head, "No. As I said, his sister's really sick. It wouldn't have been the first time he had to go, but he always came to work the next day. Always. That's how I knew something was wrong."

"Alright, thank you," JJ smiled compassionately at him. "Would you mind sitting down with a sketch artist? The man you met there was probably the UnSub and his appearance would be really helpful to narrow down the suspect pool," JJ said gently, trying to convey the importance and urgency of her request through her words.

"Sure. But if that was him, how could he take him with nobody seeing or hearing anything?" he asked confused, unwilling to believe that his partner had been taken right under his nose.

"He probably surprised him and had a vehicle lying in wait somewhere close," JJ spoke carefully, choosing her words carefully, not wanting to make the officer panic or blame himself for what happened.

The officer knew the FBI agent wasn't telling him everything, but he didn't press the subject. At this moment he'd rather not know everything. He sighed loudly in concern, worry, guilt… all of the emotions hit him at once.

"Are you okay?" JJ asked in that comforting voice of hers.

The officer shook his head, "I just can't believe how he could have been taken right under my nose and I didn't realize anything. I didn't even know something was wrong until now. What kind of a friend or officer am I if can't tell my partner has been kidnapped?" He looked at her, waiting for an answer though in reality he didn't expect one.

That was a tough question to answer. She didn't know what to say to make it right, so she tried to smooth things over as best as she could. "Like you said, he disappeared often and this UnSub is meticulous. There's no way you could have known." He touched his arm in sympathy and got up from the chair, going to call the sketch artist to sit with him. He knew the officer would blame himself for his partner's disappearance. She only hoped that the fact drove him to catch the UnSub and not to his self-destruction.

Morgan walked into an interview room that had a wide window on the side, so it didn't resemble the gray boxes he usually interviews all the monsters out there. He found a black woman pacing the floor, covering her mouth with her hand in worry. She looked young, but not as young as the victim, who had been 24, but maybe Spencer's age. He cleared his throat to get her attention, and her head turned instantly at the sudden sound. "Hi, I'm Derek Morgan with the FBI. You're Meghan, right?" He asked gently as a conversation starter.

"Please, call me Meg," the distressed woman said as she took in the man in front of her.

"May I sit?" Derek asked pointing to the chair on his side of the table.

"Uh, yes, of course," the woman asked, turning to sit down as well. Once she got as comfortable as she could be in a police station, she said, "You know, the police have already asked questions. I answered every one of them. So, what am I doing here? Do you have any news about Sally's..." she choked on her sister's name, remembering how the last thing she told her was' I love you, sis' and Meg had only said 'yeah, yeah, I know.' She closed her eyes, to find the strength to say what she wanted to say, "Sally's killer?" she whispered.

"No, not yet ma'am. But I promise you, we're doing everything we can to find him," Morgan tried to comfort her, seeking eye contact. Once he found it, he went on, "Now I know the police have asked questions, but I'd like to make some of my own and I want you to answer me with as many details as possible. Can you do that for me?" When the woman nodded, Morgan asked, "When was the last time you talked to Sally?"

The woman looked at her intertwined fingers as she said, "the day before she…before she disappeared. She had recently found a new job, so I called her often because I worried."

"Why did you worry?" Morgan frowned.

"Sally wasn't the most social person in the world. She had friends and all, but not many. She never really opened up or got comfortable unless she really knew the people around her. She was a chef and that required teamwork and she was struggling with that, I guess," Meg shrugged.

"So she was a part of a team?" Morgan asked for clarification.

Meg nodded, "Yes. She worked at a new famous restaurant downtown."

"Did she ever mention anything about having trouble with any of her coworkers?"

Meg frowned at the agent, "What kind of trouble?"

"Did she have a fight with anyone? Did someone ever get pissed off enough to threaten her or want to harm her?"

Meg shook her head, "No, no, no, no. Nothing like that. I mean being a chef surprisingly involves a lot of stress, so the occasional fight happened here and there, but by the end of their shift, everything would be fine. She really liked it there and the bond that they had. She just didn't know how to be a part of it," Meg smiled sadly. She had told her sister that talking to them even about their favorite movies would do the trick, but she was always so shy. It wasn't fair what happened to her. She had been so sure that someday she would become a famous chef. And now someone had thought it right to get in the way of that, in the way of her life. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve to have her life cut short. At that thought, Meg couldn't help but let a sob escape her lips. She couldn't hold the tears back. She missed her sister.

Morgan saw the woman get lost in her own head, her thoughts obviously leading her to dark places that made the tears come to the surface. He hated seeing this pain. He hated that there was nothing he could currently do to help. So, he reached out, touching her hand softly, hoping that at least he could offer some comfort or reassurance as he said, "We will catch the man who did this. I promise." He looked at her in the eyes and made a promise to himself that they would find the bastard. He promised that those people will find justice no matter how long it took.

Rossi walked to the department's hallway, where John Giling's parents were waiting. He found them leaning on each other, holding hands, obviously trying to appear united and strong, but not being really good at it. The mother had puffy red eyes, and the father avoided any other contact. His hand was holding hers, but the rest of him wanted to be as far away as possible. It was obvious neither of them was happy to be here. He approached them and the father saw him first and got up. Before he had the chance to say anything, Rossi spoke first. "Hello, I am Agent Rossi with the FBI."

"My name is Peter, and this is my wife Mary," the husband took the introductions upon himself immediately. He was tense and seemed restless. "Is there anything new on the case?" he asked right away.

Rossi looked around at the busy hallway, the officers and civilians rushing in and out of the department. That didn't seem like an appropriate environment for an interview. "Why don't we go somewhere more quiet to talk?" Rossi gestured further inside the department, and the wife got up and followed the husband who was following the agent. They found a quiet corner with semi-comfortable chairs to settle at. The parents sat together on side, while Rossi sat on the chair that was facing diagonally the couple. They looked at him both with a hopeful expression on their face and he hated that what he was about to say would definitely crush that. "Unfortunately, there haven't been any new developments in the case, but we were hoping you could help us make progress."

"What do you mean?" The wife spoke up confused. The police had questioned them twice already. She couldn't understand how else they could be of assistance.

"I'd like to ask you some questions that could get us closer to solving the case." Rossi was careful with his words. He tried not to say the word 'killer'. He needed the parents to be focused on answering his questions, not overwhelmed with flashbacks and memories of their son or feelings of loss.

"But the police have already questioned us," the husband say frowning.

Rossi leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and locking his hands in front of him as he said, "I know how hard this must be for you, but I wouldn't be asking this if it wasn't completely necessary." He looked them both in the eye, trying to convey the urgency of the matter.

The husband considered this and eventually nodded his agreement, "Okay. Fine. Ask away."

"So, your son, John, loved sports?"

John's mother was the one who spoke next, "Not all of them, no." She had a faraway look in her eyes. It was obvious her mind was full of memories of the child she lost too soon. "Just basketball. Ever since he could hold the ball, he would dribble it around and try to shoot it in any loop he found." She sniffed at the memory playing in her head. It was like she could see him right now, when he was only a little child, holding the ball and looking at her with a wide smile on her face. She tried to focus and continued, "Eventually we enrolled him in the local basketball team, where he became the point guard. He was so good at it. We never missed a game. We tried every time that at least one of us was there to cheer for him. This year though, he got to the bigger league. He was transferred to a new team. It was all over the newspaper. We were so proud. We went to see all of his games, though he wasn't playing," she finished sadly.

"What do you mean?" Rossi asked in confusion.

John's father explained, "He was the youngest member of the team, so he was benched for the first month. The coach told him to observe their tactics and all, and once he got the hang of it, he would be able to play."

"So, he was going to replace the current point guard?" Rossi asked for clarification.

"Yeah, I think," the father nodded.

"Did that cause any problems inside the team?"

Peter, the father, tried to remember if anything had happened, but nothing struck out. "No, John never said anything like that. The current point guard had to move, so he was going to leave anyway."

"Did John make easily friends in the team?" Rossi asked next.

"Not really," the mother said. "He was really shy. He was excited, but he thought they were all such good players, that when they got to know him, they wouldn't accept him. He was good at teamwork, but he didn't make friends easily."

"Why is that?" Rossi asked curiously.

"I-I don't really know," the father said lost, "We always told him he was free to ask them to come over to our house anytime, but he always found an excuse."

The mother looked at him, her eyes glistening from the tears ready to fall, and said, "I think he was always afraid that they would say no. He was a good kid," she smiled tearful.

"He was." Rossi agreed. "I'm sorry for your loss." He looked at them both making sure he had their attention as he said, "I want you to know, that we're doing everything we can to find out who did this."

"Thank you," the mother said as the first tear fell from her eye.

Rossi nodded and got up and left. They had tortured those poor parents enough. He decided to give them some space. He had all he needed for now. It wasn't much, but it would do.

Alex and Reid walked into one of the two waiting rooms. It was a light blue room with comfortable-looking chairs all around it and some plants scattered in the corners. A coffee table was sitting right in the middle with magazines and newspapers on it that were most likely outdated. It reminded Reid of a hospital. Michael Lenning's parents and brother were scattered inside the room. No one really talked to each other. The brother stood motionless staring outside the window. He was young; barely 20 years old. The mother was sitting on a chair staring at nothing in particular and the father was pacing the room compulsively, but with a calm demeanor about him. When the agents opened the door to come in, the parents turned their eyes to them, but the brother didn't react at all. He kept on looking out the window. "Hello. I am Alex Blake and this is Dr. Reid. We're with the FBI," Alex introduced them. She sat close to the mother while Reid remained standing looking at the brother curiously.

"Hi," the mother said. "I am Sofia and this is my husband Chris." She didn't introduce their son. She knew that even if she did, he wouldn't acknowledge them. He had been like that ever since he found out about his brother.

"I've very sorry for your loss," Alex started, "is it okay if we talk about your son, Michael, for a while?" she said gently, looking at the mother.

"Do we have a choice?" the father said disbelievingly.

Alex looked at him calmly trying to come up with something. "Time is of the essence, but if you're not ready, we can give you some space," she ended up saying, hating that she wished they didn't ask them to come back later.

"When you lose a child like we did, you're never really ready, you know? They didn't even let us see him", Sofia said sniffling, looking at her hands in front of her. "But it's okay, we can do this. Right, Chris?" Sofia looked at her husband, and for a moment their eyes locked. Something passed between them, some kind of understanding, because in the next moment the husband moved to sit next to his wife.

After the husband settled, Alex asked the first question, "When was the last time you talked to Michael?" She leaned in closer to the mother, hoping that maybe the close proximity of a female presence could substitute for some comfort.

"About a week ago," Sofia said, avoiding the agent's eyes. "We didn't speak for long because he was busy with his research."

"What kind of research?" Reid asked gently.

"Michael was a psychologist. He was part of a research program for his doctorate. We don't know exactly what he was studying," Michael's father said. At that moment, the brother reacted. It was just a huff, but a reaction nonetheless.

Reid stepped towards the boy, as his father said "He has been like that ever since we found out. He hasn't talked to us, he hasn't eaten. He has been locked in his room all day," he looked at his son almost in desperation. It was heartbreaking to see a family go through something like that.

Reid came to stand next to the kid as he said, "Hi, my name's Spencer. What's your name?"

The boy looked at him from head to toe, sizing him up, judging him inside his head. He was obviously wondering how he got accepted in the FBI in the first place. He must have thought of the agent's presence next to him as non-threatening, because he said - almost whispered, "Adam."

Reid could feel the surprised stares of the people in the room piercing the back of his head but he didn't let them get to him. He continued in the same soft voice as he had started. "It's nice to meet you Adam. How old are you?"

Adam looked at him, but he answered almost immediately. "Twenty."

"Were you close with your brother?"

Adam shrugged, looking back out the window, "I guess. I mean the age difference wasn't really helping, but we talked almost every day."

"When was the last time you guys talked?" Spencer asked next.

"Like five days ago."

"What did he say? Do you know what he was studying, Adam?" Spencer asked.

"He was part of a research program that studied the effect a strict patriarchic family has on its members, especially the children. They had just visited a prison in Ashland for potential subjects. He said that they had found some that could be useful. He was happy because they were making progress." It was obvious the young man was trying to keep the tears back, but talking about his recently deceased brother was not an easy task.

"Did he ever mention any trouble at work? Anyone he didn't get along with?"

"He hadn't gotten to the socializing part yet." At the agent's questioning look, he continued, "He was the newest member in the program and he was always," Adam paused looking for the right word, "cautious before making any new friends."

"What do you mean cautious?" Reid asked confused.

"He was of the opinion that man didn't need many friends, as long as he had at least one true friend. So he never really sought out friendships. He was content with what he had."

"Thank you, Adam." He thought of patting his back, but he wasn't one for physical contact, so he pursed his lips into an almost smile and turned to leave.

"Thank you for your help," Alex thanked the parents. "I am very sorry for your loss."

They were almost out the door when Adam spoke up. "Dr. Reid."

Reid turned around instantly and found the boy staring at him intensely. What he saw in the boy's eyes were all emotions he was familiar with. Loss, sadness, pain, agony, nostalgia… they were all trapped in his orbs creating a web of sorrow. Reid didn't speak. He let Adam form whatever sentence he had in mind.

"Will it ever stop?" Adam simply asked.

For some reason Reid knew exactly what he was talking about. Will the pain ever stop? Will those emotions ever let him go? Reid took a breath and answered, "Honestly, no. But it will fade and eventually you will be able to live with it. It will always be inside of you, but you will move on in time."

"I don't want to move on," Adam said stubbornly.

"Moving on doesn't necessarily mean forget." He saw Adam contemplate his words and when he simply nodded, he understood he needed now time to think, so he let him. Alex opened the door and he followed.

"How are you holding up?" Alex asked Reid as they were walking towards the conference room to find the rest of the team.

"What do you mean?" Reid frowned, not really understanding the basis of the question.

"This case seems like a difficult one. We've been here all day and we have no leads so far," Alex said conversationally.

"I know. It's frustrating. I feel like I'm missing something but I don't know what it is." All this time he's been feeling like that, but he hasn't been able to figure out why yet. On the way to the conference room, they made a detour for some coffee.

The last statement seemed to have a double meaning for Spencer even though he probably didn't realize he had said that way. Alex wondered what could have happened in such a little time to the young man that made him look so…miserable. "Enough about work," she said as she grabbed a plastic cup from the cupboard. "How was Friday night? Did you have fun?"

Reid froze, though he tried not to show it. He probably failed. He frowned at the onslaught of memories from Friday night. It had slipped his mind that Alex didn't know. She was the only one who couldn't explain his distant behavior today. He tried to be normal, but when Derek was around, he couldn't really manage it. However he had stayed professional so far. He tried to reply with a vague answer, "No, not really." It was the truth. It had been one of the worst days of his life.

"Did something happen?" Alex asked casually, knowing already that something probably did.

Reid grabbed a plastic cup and put coffee in it. "I don't really want to talk about it." He hurried to put sugar in it and not a second later he said, "We should go back to the others," and started towards the conference room, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

Alex reached out to stop him. She didn't want to interrogate him. She just wanted to let him know that if he needed a friend, he knew where to find her, "Look, Reid, I've noticed the changes between you and Derek and I know something happened Friday night, as I knew something was going on between you way long before that. I'm not asking you to tell me what it is, I'm just telling you that I'm here for you if you want someone to talk to, okay?"

Reid didn't keep eye contact for the whole speech. Of course he always knew it would be hard to keep his relationship with Derek a secret, but it was a subject that still made him uncomfortable. He was glad all of his friends were so accepting and the whole situation reminded him how other than his mom, they were his only family. And even though things had been awkward lately, he hoped he never loses them. He was grateful for them. "Thanks," was the only word he managed to say. Anything else just seemed too much or too little. After that, Alex nodded and she walked to the conference room as if nothing happened and Reid followed her there with the same demeanor.

Hotch saw Alex and Reid walk in, the rest of the team were already there, and asked "What did you find?" As he said that, they all started sharing what the relatives of the victims told them. They discussed what they knew and they tried to reach a conclusion. Hotch called their technical analyst and said, "Garcia, can you check Lisa Kellers? I know the UnSub is definitely male, but can you see if there's a man in her life that would do something like that for her?" at her affirmative answer, he thanked her and hang up the phone.

Derek sighs, placing his elbows on the table for support as he leaned forward, "So we know they were part of a team, most of them were latest members, some of them were shy, and others not so involved."

"What about the police officer who's missing?" Hotch asked.

The detective leading the case that had gotten here a little after Hotch had gotten back from the interview, detective Rylings, answered immediately, "Jeremy? He recently became a detective. But on his first case, he made a mistake that brought bad publicity, so he was punished with patrol for three months. He was kind of an outcast because of that, but he was still accepted as a cop."

"So, he was part of the department but not high on the popularity list, so to speak," Rossi clarified, "which could be interpreted as less involved."

"But how did he choose his victims? How did he know if they were part of a team and what their role was in it?" JJ asked.

"He must have followed them for a while," Hotch said with a frown.

"We need to find why he's keeping them," Rossi said.

Hotch turned to look at him, "What do you mean?"

"We know he keeps them for four days, but why?" He asked gesturing with his hands, "Does he hit them repeatedly?"

"We know the injuries happened progressively" Alex added.

"Exactly. Did he hit them every single day for the sake of hitting them or do they serve another purpose?" Rossi asked.

He had a point. So what if they were a part of a team or were less involved? What did that mean to him and why would he want to kidnap them and abuse them? "If we don't find that, we probably won't be able to catch him," Hotch said.

An officer walked in and gave something to the detective in the room. Suddenly all eyes were on him. "The sketch you asked for is ready," he said putting it down on the table for everyone to see. It was a complete sketch of a man's face and it was surprisingly detailed.

"Good," Hotch said. He looked at JJ next, "can you call for a press conference and tell them that we're looking this man for questioning? Do not reveal that he's a suspect in the case. For now we just need his identity."

JJ nodded, as the detective spoke up, "Shouldn't we warn the public?"

"We don't have enough for a full profile yet or any more information regarding his identification, and if we did that, we would only raise panic." He hated thinking about it that way, but the UnSub already had his victim in custody and there was no way to find the officer unless they found the UnSub first. So, the public was safe for now, but the officer wasn't.

While JJ took care of the press conference, the rest of them stayed behind to try to create a preliminary profile. The worst thing was that the UnSub already had his next victim and there was no way to find him. The officer's phone was turned off, nobody saw anyone leave in the neighborhood he was last seen. It was unbelievable how the UnSub managed to kidnap an officer in broad daylight with no witnesses. There was practically nothing they could do other than look at the files they already had on all the victims. They were stuck. When JJ came back in the conference room, Hotch got up from his seat and closed the file in his hand. "Alright, we're all tired and unfortunately there's nothing we can do for now. Let's check into our hotel, get some sleep and come back first thing in the morning to look at it with fresh eyes."

They all sighed loudly before they stretched in their seats. When they thought they were good enough to stand, they gathered their stuff and got into the government issued SUVs – Hotch, Alex, and Reid in one and the rest in the other – and drove to their hotel. JJ got their hotel rooms and assigned one to each agent.

Somehow, Reid and Derek ended up on the same floor, their rooms right next to each other. Reid thought for a moment that JJ might have done it on purpose, to force them to talk since they had a chance of privacy that way. He didn't give it more thought. He grabbed his bag, got the key and got on the elevator along with the others. Reid and Morgan were the first to arrive to their floor. The got out and in awkward, tense silence walked to their rooms. They only said a simple goodnight before they each got into their own room.

The room was simple, the hotel wasn't a luxurious one. It only had a double bed, a sofa, a TV on the wall and a desk. As you walked into the little hallway before it opened out to the room, a wardrobe was on the right side and a door to the bathroom on the left. Reid didn't bother getting his clothes out of his go-bag. He only got his pajamas out and got into the bathroom to take a shower that would wash away today's events and stress. He felt so tired, so exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep. But for some reason, as he lied on the bed, it seemed like his senses woke up. It was as if his body could feel Derek being in the other room. It was as if his body missed him and longed for him and begged for him to reach him, to just touch him more time. Something had been missing all day, and it was as if he now found it. He tried to calm his fast-beating heart down. He shut his eyes and told himself that he wasn't ready. "Not yet. Not now." He begged himself to go to sleep, but who was really listening? He tossed and turned, trying to find a position that would let sleep take him on the uncomfortable bed, but something was missing. It wasn't warm enough. He got up and took a couple of blankets from the wardrobe. He covered himself with them and waited for their effect. He waited and waited, but it never came. He was still somehow… cold. He checked his phone and saw that an hour had passed with him tossing and turning. He knew what he wanted. He knew what he needed to sleep.

He got up and didn't even bother turning the lights on. He got out of his room, closing the door on his way, and walked to the room next door. He stared at the door, concentrating for any kind of sound on the other side, but nothing. Absolute silence. He breathed in and was ready to bolt, when he lifted his hand and knocked on the door three times firmly. He was exhausted and he wanted to sleep. And he knew without the man in the room in front of him, he wouldn't be able to do so.

The door opened and a shirtless Derek was staring at him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes adorably. He used to love the fact that Derek slept in only his pajama bottoms. Now, not only did he love it, but it terrified him as well.

"Spencer?" Derek was asleep the minute he got on his bed, so he was surprised and confused to see Reid at his door as such hour.

Spencer opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to come up with something sufficient to say. When nothing was good enough, he went for the truth, "I am not ready to talk, but I can't sleep alone," he blushed at his admission and looked away to hide his embarrassment.

Derek looked at him for a moment. Truth be told, it was torture for him to sleep knowing Spencer was in the room right next to his. He was glad he was here. He knew that he may never get an opportunity like this again, so he wasn't about to say no. He opened the door, nodding, and let him in. "You can take the bed. I'll crash on the couch," he said as he followed the younger agent inside.

At that Reid immediately disagreed. "N-No. Don't," he had come here because he missed him and his warmth. If Derek got the couch, he wouldn't be able to sleep. "I-I mean it won't be comfortable and it's your room and I- we can share. Just for tonight. If that's alright with you. I-I don't want to force you. Only if you want to It's-"

"Spencer, it's okay," Derek said, cutting off his rambling. If that's what Spencer wanted, then he would get what he could. If he regretted it in the morning, then they'll cross that bridge when they come to it. Right now he had the chance to feel the warmth of his body next to his, the warmth he had missed so much. "We can share," he agreed, "Just for tonight."

Reid nodded and lied on one side of the bed while Derek lied on the other. They were both back to back, but without really touching. He hated that he was facing away from him, that he was so close, yet so far. But he didn't think he could bear touching him or being touched by him without breaking, so he settled for this. "Goodnight, Derek."

"Goodnight Pr- Spencer," Both men noticed the slip-up, but neither of them said anything about it.

So... what do you think? I hope it was worth the wait... What do you think happens next morning? Would you like a spoiler, cause I've got one for you...

"What part of I'm miserable without you is so hard to digest? What part of I can't live without you can't you get?!"

Angsty. Who do you think said that?

Review, follow, favorite -anything is appreciated!

Until next time...