Dallas, Texas
present day
home of Kurt Harmon


"…reid…"

Everything was swimming. Black and swimmy. Like diving deep in a lake, the surface a watery mirage and your body floating.

"…reid!...ambulance…" It was a voice. He knew that voice.

it's morgan. oh, good. morgan's here. he'll fix everything.

Morgan's voice sounded like it was coming from very far away.

i think i'm unconscious.

"…quick…seal off…APB…whole area…now!" Different voice. Hotch. Giving orders. Sounding urgent, stressed. Something had gone very, very wrong.

what happened…oh right, he hit me…

"…he's coming around…get the medics!…" Morgan's voice again, closer now.

wait…there was a taser…emily!

He struggled toward the watery surface and then the cool, swimmy blackness parted to admit a messier, noisier blackness.

"Can you hear me, kid? What's your name?"

Who's your daddy? Is he rich like me?

He grabbed at Morgan. where's my wife? why don't I hear her voice? "Emily," he croaked. "Emily…"

"Hang on, Reid. Your head's swelling up like a balloon. Take it easy." Morgan turned and shouted. "Where are the damn paramedics!"

"Where's Emily?" His eyes were fully open now. Flashlights and people were everywhere, half of the lights were aimed down at him. It was like being on an autopsy table. His head was throbbing.

He didn't see Emily.

Oh God…is she hurt? Is she…is she…no, she can't be.

JJ was kneeling at his side now. "Spence, you have to lie still," she said, pushing on his chest to get him to lay back down. "You could have a concussion." Worry was all over her face, but it wasn't worry for him.

"Who the hell cares, what's…who…where's Emily, dammit!" He saw Morgan and JJ exchange a grim look. Morgan's jaw was clenched tight enough to crack walnuts. "What? I saw that look," he said, seizing Morgan's forearm.

"Everything's okay, kid."

"The hell it is," he said, and pushed them away. He staggered to his feet, throwing off the efforts to keep him down. He swayed a little and held on to Morgan for a moment. He turned and saw the workshop behind him. A Dallas CSI was taking pictures of something on the floor just inside the doorway.

His whole body went cold. He lurched to the workshop's door, shoved an officer aside and stared down at – nothing. Except it wasn't quite nothing. Emily's gun and badge were lying on the floor like they'd been tossed aside.

He had about a half a second of relief that Emily wasn't down there, which was quickly drowned out by the horrible realization that – Emily wasn't down there.

Oh, God.

"Reid," Hotch said, coming up behind him. "Let the paramedics take a look at your head."

"No," he said, turning and pushing past him. "How long was I out?"

"Five minutes, tops."

That sounded like an eternity. "Where's Emily?" He grabbed Hotch's shoulders, not caring if he was being inappropriate. "Tell me right now, Hotch. Where is she?"

Hotch looked him right in the eye. "He took her, Reid. Harmon took her."

JJ hovered by the ambulance, watching Spence pace back and forth. She didn't know what to say or do. She'd never seen him like this. It was more unsettling than she could articulate to see him unable to rationalize, unable to dredge up any statistics, but instead helpless in the face of his emotions. She hadn't realized how much she depended on him being Reid, doing what he did, until now here he was, unable to do what he did or to do anything at all. "Kid, you gotta calm down," Morgan said.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Reid snapped. He had a bandage on his head where Harmon had struck him with a two-by-four they'd found near Reid in the grass. Morgan had been forced to all but wrestle him down before he'd let the paramedics look at him.

Rossi appeared, looking harried. Reid stopped pacing and turned to face him. JJ moved to Spence's side and put her hand on his elbow. He was vibrating all over; it was like putting your hand on the hood of a car with the engine running. "The police have roadblocks set up in a five-mile radius around this place. He's not getting through with her."

Reid shook his head. "We're not going to catch him."

"We will, Reid."

"We're not, Dave! He had at least a ten minute head start! He had this set up, do you get that? He was calm enough to stay here, hidden, while we pounded on his door and spread out through his property. He waited until we had our backs to the yard and he Tasered her. This wasn't an accident, this was planned. You think he didn't have an exit strategy?"

"Why, though?" Morgan said. "Why her?"

"Do we know he meant to take her?" JJ asked.

"Yes," Reid said. "I was closer to him, if he didn't care who he got he would have taken me. He shot the Taser past me to hit her. I was inconvenient, that's why he just knocked me out. Her, he wanted disabled. He meant to do this. He was prepared. Figuring out why is going to be the key." He shut his eyes and shook his head, one of his hands restlessly worrying over Emily's rings, rolling them back and forth across his palm. He'd been doing that since he'd realized she was gone.

JJ suddenly noticed something else. "Spence – where's your ring?"

Reid looked at her, then held up his left hand. It was bare. He just stared at it for a moment. "He took it off me," he said. "Took my wedding ring right off my finger." He looked down at himself, then clapped a hand to the front of his vest. "He took my pocket watch, too." He cast his eyes around like he was looking for the answers in the air. "I laid there unconscious and did nothing while he took my ring and then he took Emily."

"Don't go down that road, Reid," Hotch said. "You are not to blame for this."

"I promised I'd always be there for her and when she needed me, I wasn't there. Now I'm still here and he has her, so you do the math." JJ watched his face fighting itself until he turned away and walked a few steps off, his hands gripping his elbows.

"Dave, we gotta find Nathan Harris," Morgan said. "He might know where Harmon would have taken her."

"The police are still looking for him. There's an all-points out, they're watching his house and McKinniss, the whole city's on alert for him."

"We should get back to the station. If they find him we'll have to talk to him right away. JJ and I still need to find Harmon's parents, if we can talk to them they might know something."

Rossi nodded and looked at JJ. "We should get him away from here," he said, dropping his voice and looking at Reid, who still had his back to them. He'd stopped about ten feet away and didn't seem to be paying attention.

"He should go to the hospital," JJ said quietly, stepping closer to them.

"He won't," Morgan said. "Would you?"

Bullock came walking up, looking somber. "How's he doin?" he said, nodding toward Reid.

"Medics don't think he has a concussion."

Bullock eyed Rossi. "That ain't what I meant."

"I know. Look, we need to be getting back to the station so we can do our job. Harmon's profile is more important than ever now, we have to dig up his family, friends, anyone who can tell us more about him. And Nathan Harris has to be found."

"We got crime scene goin over this place with a fine-tooth comb. We'll let ya know if we find any tire tracks or evidence a where he mighta taken her." He sighed, lifting his cowboy hat to rub his partially-bald head. "This ain't good, is it?"

Rossi sighed. "Harmon's not one to take direct action. He's a manipulator. Killing Elle was the first taste he got of violence, as far as we know. He may have discovered he liked it."

"Why'd he want to take Agent Prentiss?"

"We don't know. But we're going to find out."

Bullock nodded. "You all – take care a Stretch, there. Don't know how I'd handle it if it were my pretty wife in the hands a some crazy man."

"Don't worry about Reid," Morgan said, sounding a little defensive. "He'll be okay." But he didn't look convinced, and JJ had to wonder if that were really true.

Morgan hurried to keep up with Reid, who was practically running into the police station, leaving the rest of them in the dust. Garcia was waiting for them. "Reid – what happened? Is there any sign…"

Reid gave her a quick, terse headshake and pushed past her. "Not now, Garcia." She followed them back to the conference room, looking hurt and near tears.

Morgan put an arm around her. "We don't know anything, baby girl," he murmured. "Just that Emily's gone." They all gathered around the conference table. Hotch looked pinched and anxious, and Morgan could see the scars left by George Foyet lurking just underneath his skin. Hotch knew more than anyone what Reid was going through right now. Reid snatched up one of the files on Harmon.

"There has to be something here," he said, his tone clipped and businesslike. "Does he own property out of town? Could it be under another name, did he inherit anything?"

"Reid, let's just take a minute to…" Hotch began. He didn't get far.

"No, I won't take a minute, Hotch, that minute might be one Emily doesn't have! I can't sit here and look at these files while he's doing who knows what to her, so let's find him before he kills her!"

"Reid…" Morgan began, but he didn't even get as far as Hotch had gotten.

"He must have had a vehicle ready to get her out of the area so fast. Where was it parked? Behind the property, in the field? Why is nobody thinking of these things? Who is figuring this stuff out? Who is out there looking for her?" His voice rose steadily during this outburst until he was shouting. He broke off abruptly, planted his hands on the conference table and leaned over them for a moment, breathing hard. "Goddammit!" he exclaimed, as his hands lashed out and swept papers and files off the table to the floor. He turned his back and took a step away, one hand on his forehead.

Everyone just stared at him. Morgan's chest felt tight. Jesus, kid. This isn't going to work. You can't do this. He looked at Hotch, then Rossi, and saw the same knowledge on their faces, as well as how much they hated it.

Reid sighed, his arm falling to his side. He turned around, shaking his head. "I can't work this case," he said, his voice sounding lifeless and flat. "I'm too emotional."

Hotch nodded, and Morgan saw his relief that he wouldn't have to order Reid off the case. "Good."

Reid snorted brief, bitter laughter. "It's not good. Nothing about it is good. You think I want to step aside? What does it say about me I if I just walk away and let other people look for my wife?"

"It says that you're smart," Rossi said. "And that you trust your teammates."

Reid shuffled to the edge of the table, his head bowed. He took a deep breath, and when he looked at them again, there was a terrible kind of resignation on his face. He met each of their eyes in turn. "We've all been through a lot together," he said, quietly. "I'd trust any of you with my life. I hope you understand what it is that I'm trusting you with now." He turned and walked out of the conference room, shoulders hunched.

Hotch turned to them. "We don't eat, we don't sleep, we don't have another thought for anything else until we find Emily. We clear on that?" Everyone nodded. "Good. You know what to do."

JJ came over to his side. "I've got Harmon's parents' address. You ready to go?"

Morgan sighed. "Gimme a minute," he said, glancing toward where Reid had gone. She nodded. Morgan steeled himself, then followed after Reid.

He found him standing in the courtyard, arms crossed, head bowed. Morgan just stood there a few paces behind, waiting.

"Tell me why I can't work on this case," Reid finally said, sounding hollowed-out, his voice echoing around inside him until it finally found its way out.

"You know why, kid."

"Tell me again. Explain it to me in a way that'll make sense."

Morgan walked around him until he could see his face. "Harmon's taken someone you love. You're desperate to find her. You can look at the files, examine the clues, but you'll be so anxious to find the answer that you might jump to the wrong conclusion. Make an assumption that isn't supported. You could point us in the wrong direction. That won't help her."

"I could point you in the right direction," he said. "My job on this team is to see what the rest of you don't."

"Your job right now is to get through this. You're a victim too here, Spencer." Reid's head came up at Morgan's use of his first name. "You can't think straight or focus on the profile with Emily in danger. If your places were reversed, I'd be telling her the same thing."

Reid let out a burst of surprised laughter. "Our places should be reversed. Aren't I the designated agent-in-jeopardy around here? Why her?" He lifted his wet eyes to Morgan's. "Why'd he take her?" He sounded young, and confused, and frightened. Morgan's resolve solidified. I am not gonna let this happen, Reid. I am not gonna let this guy hurt her.

"We're gonna find out, my man. And we're gonna get her back. I promise." Morgan took a step closer. "Hey," he said. Reid looked up. "You're just about my best friend in the world, you know that?"

Reid's eyes widened a little bit. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't lie to you, kid. I'm not gonna let you down. There's a roomful of people in there, smart people who care about Emily, and care about you. Nobody's losing anybody, not now, not on my watch."

"I believe you."

"Good." Morgan reached out and pulled Reid into a hug, slapping his back. "It's gonna be okay, got it?" He felt Reid nod. He pulled back and looked him in the face. "You ought to go back to the hotel and try to rest."

"No, I can't do that. If I can't work the case I can at least be handy if – I don't know, if someone needs a map analyzed or a code broken."

"Okay. Take your time. Me and JJ are going to go talk to Harmon's parents. No one's cutting you out of the loop here, you know."

Reid nodded. "I know."

"Okay." Morgan clapped him on the shoulder. "You coming back in?"

"In a second. I need to call Emily's mother. O'Neill said I could use his office if I needed privacy."

Morgan nodded and headed back into the police station, leaving Reid standing in the night air. Determination replaced the empathy on his face. He wondered if Harmon knew what kind of punishment he'd earned for himself the minute he'd taken one of them.

Hotch saw Morgan come back into the conference room; Reid wasn't with him. This wasn't going to be easy. It wasn't as though Reid was the only one with an emotional attachment to Emily Prentiss. They all had a connection, a strong one. And Reid might say he couldn't work the case, but Hotch couldn't imagine that he'd go quietly back to his hotel room and sit there waiting. No, he'd stick around, listening in and interjecting thoughts and opinions. In short, he'd be underfoot. Then it'd be up to Hotch to somehow tell him that he was making their jobs harder, and that he couldn't be part of their efforts to locate and rescue Emily.

He didn't have to imagine what Reid was going through, he knew. He had listened to his wife being shot, had heard her die. The road back from that had been long and difficult and it wasn't over yet. Two years and he still grieved for her, still thought of her, still ached for what could have been and agonized over what he could have done differently that could have saved her life. He didn't want that for Reid, and it was all the more tragic that they were still so new together, still discovering each other in their marriage, with everything ahead of them. Emily was in the hands of a man who'd already killed one person who got in his way. Hotch could all too easily put himself in Reid's position, which was why he had to be careful not to do just that lest he lost all objectivity himself. He had to stay in control, stay focused, if they were going to keep Emily from suffering Haley's fate.

JJ was up as soon as Morgan returned, an air of taking-care-of-business about her. "Let's go, Harmon's parents don't live far from here," she said. Morgan nodded. Garcia was deep in searches, Rossi was just as deep into the files. They were two agents down and the clock kept ticking away.

"Where is he?"

Everyone stopped. The new voice that had just spoken cut through their scattered thoughts like a knife through butter. They all turned to the doorway, where Jason Gideon was standing and staring at them. "Jason," Hotch began.

"Where is he?" Gideon repeated.

Morgan kept heading for the door. "He's in O'Neill's office calling Prentiss's mother. Come on, JJ." He walked past Gideon, JJ following along.

Gideon watched them go, then turned back to Hotch. "I heard it on the scanner. Who's this Kurt Harmon?"

"The man we think shot Elle," Hotch said. "He's a mastermind. We suspect he's been using Nathan Harris as a proxy to commit murder. Harmon thought Elle knew something and killed her. We're not sure what she actually knew."

"He took Emily? Why? It makes no sense."

"Jason – you're not an agent of the Bureau."

"I want to help," he said, holding Hotch's eyes. "It's the least I can do."

Hotch sighed. "I'm not the one you should talk to about that."

Gideon looked away, his jaw tight. "Has he recused himself?"

"Yes. He's not happy about it."

Gideon nodded. "Excuse me." He turned and walked down the hall. Hotch watched him go.

"Hotch?" Garcia asked.

"What?" he said, still staring at the spot where Gideon had been standing moments before.

"Shouldn't we let him help if he wants to?"

He sighed. "Depends on why he wants to help."

Reid hung up his phone in O'Neill's office, offered to him for the privacy required for these calls he now had to make. That had been the single hardest conversation of his life. Talking Elizabeth Prentiss out of getting on the next plane to Dallas had taken all the persuasive skills he possessed. The last thing he needed was her around, demanding updates every fifteen minutes and dogging his every step. He'd finally convinced her by appealing to her sense of practicality. The team would function more efficiently if they didn't have to worry about her, too.

The team. Which at the moment, does not include me.

He raked a hand through his hair. His left ring finger felt very naked without his wedding ring. Why had Harmon taken it? And his pocket watch, too? They couldn't be trophies, Harmon hadn't killed him, the assault on him had been a matter of necessity. He had to have a use in mind for them. Something to do with Emily, perhaps, but he couldn't imagine what.

Emily. I'm so sorry. I let him take you. I should have been faster, smarter – if I'd been better, you'd be here now instead of somewhere with him. You deserve a better man than me at your side. Why you picked me, I'll never know.

The door to O'Neill's office opened up. Reid got to his feet, stunned to see Gideon standing there.

"I want to help," he said. No greeting, no word of acknowledgment that they both knew Reid had avoided him at Elle's service.

Reid's first instinct was to defer, as he always had. To look to Gideon for guidance, and to find out how to feel and act. But he didn't need that now, and Gideon had no guidance to offer him. "You want to help?" he said.

Gideon nodded. "If you'll let me."

Reid came out from behind O'Neill's desk and headed for the door. "Then find my wife," he said. He walked past Gideon and left him there, not waiting for a response.