The car had left the center of the town and was driving north. The man was slowing down, his left turning signal blinking. 'It's now or never' thought Reid, who had spent much of the trip shifting around. This was one of the times long arms came in handy. He leaned forward and with a twist of the back his hands actually reached the release button for the seatbelt. He then twisted again and scrabbled for the door handle, popping the door open. It went beautifully, and within seconds he had thrown himself out of the car. He rolled a couple of times, before gaining his feet. Behind him he heard the brakes slam and loud cursing.

Reid took off running. He heard the gun fire and a shot whizzed by over his head. He slouched down and kept running in a zigzag pattern. 'It is dark,' he thought, 'He can't see me. If I can only get past the curve in the road I can run into the woods, and he won't even know which side of the road I'm on.'

That was when he was tackled. Their combined speed made them crash down and slide on the asphalt. Reid had fallen headfirst, and could feel gravel biting into the side of his face, scratching him as he slid along the road.

For a moment they just lay there, panting. Then the assailant sat up, sitting on Reid's back, keeping his hands on Reid's shoulder. "Why did you have to do that?"

Reid didn't answer. Instead he said, "What's your name?"

"What?"

"What's your name?"

After a short silence, the man said, "You can call me Tom."

Then he pulled Reid back up in his feet and pushed him back to the car. Once again he secured him with the seatbelt. This time, however, he also locked the door.

"He's been gone for more than an hour," Elle said.

"He's still not answering his phone," Morgan replied.

"I'll call Mikey, see if he's left the restaurant." Sheriff Johnson picked up the phone again.

"Hey Mikey, it's Danny again. The agent who came for the food, is he still there?…No, when… okay, I'll hold." He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "Mikey says Dr. Reid left at least 40 minutes ago. He's going out to the parking lot, to see if he's having car trouble or something.

They waited for a minute or so, not really believing that Mikey would find anything. When he came back on the phone though, they could all hear him; he was talking fast and excitedly. Sheriff Johnson listened intently, and then said, "All right Mikey, don't touch anything, we'll be there in ten minutes."

Hanging up, he turned to the BAU team, talking as he gathered his jacket and double-checked his service revolver. "Mikey found the food on the ground, together with an FBI badge and a cell phone. The car is gone, and…" He sighed, a look of pity crossing his eyes. "He says there's blood on the ground."

The BAU, sans their walking encyclopedia, stood looking at the meager evidence, showing them that Reid had once been here. They had immediately identified all his belongings, but did not touch anything. The forensic team was on the way.

"At least there isn't a lot of blood," JJ said, not knowing who she was really trying to comfort.

"Yeah," said Morgan. "And we can't even be sure it's his. Maybe he clobbered the other guy."

Elle looked at her teammates. "Uh, guys. What are the chances that this is unrelated to the kidnappings?"

The SUV came up the driveway of a small farm. Tom drove into a garage adjacent to the main house and turned off the engine. He carefully closed the garage doors before turning on the lights and unlocking the backdoor. The gun was once again pressed up against Reid's neck as Tom leaned over him to undo the seatbelt. Reid was pulled out of the car and frog-marched through a door and into a living room/kitchen area. He heard Tom put the car keys on a small table by the door. Across the room was a bathroom. Tom took him there, and unlocked one of his cuffs.

"You have five minutes," he said, as he went out and closed the door behind him.

Reid quickly looked around for something he could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. Just toothbrushes, soap, towels and toilet paper. No razor or nail clippers, not even a shower curtain. He briefly entertained the idea of breaking the mirror, but that would be heard.

"Three minutes."

Reid hastily used the toilet, and then he took a good look at his face in the mirror. Both sides were bloodied now, one from the cut on the forehead, and the other from his close encounter with the road top. The left side of his face he could wash clean, as the cut now only bled sluggishly. Then he tried his best to get all the dirt and grime out of the abrasions on his right cheek. When the bathroom door was wrenched open he quickly washed his hands, then put them behind his back and let Tom cuff them together again. Tom put him in a red sofa, placing himself on a back-turned kitchen chair, crossing his arms over the backrest, idly playing with the gun.

"So," he said, taking in Reid's bloodied face, "What do you know about me?"

"About you? Nothing really," Reid said, feigning ignorance.

"Come on now," Tom sounded irritated. "You're a big shot FBI profiler, and a doctor nonetheless. Tell me what you know."

Reid swallowed. He figured he had to stall for time. "Well, okay, your name may or may not be Tom. You like Chinese food and you drive to work."

Suddenly Tom had moved. His fist curled around the front of Reid's shirt, pulling it, forcing Reid's head up until they were locked eye-to-eye. "Sarcasm doesn't amuse me. I know that you have figured out who I am by now. So, What Do You Know About Me?"

Reid breathed heavily, and words from the profile flew through his head. Unpredictable, stressed, frustrated. He was speechless. He couldn't tell him about the profile, he couldn't give him any warning or any advantage over his team.

"I… We… we are nowhere near finding you," he finally said. "All we have is a general idea, age, sex, M.O., you know, the usual characteristics. We've only been at it since yesterday. Give us some time!"

Tom looked at him. "Are you lying?"

"No, I'm not!" Reid said shrilly. "We're profilers, not miracle workers. No one is going to find you anytime soon—"

Tom interrupted him. "What would take precedence? Looking for me or for you?"

Reid hesitated, but said, "Looking for you."

Tom looked at him with an calculated look. "We'll see about that."

"Where is Bailey?" Reid suddenly asked, turning the conversation around.

"Bailey?"

"The boy you took."

A strange look came over Tom's face, it softened and he smiled. "His name isn't Bailey, it's Mattie. It's always been Mattie. Do you want to meet him?"

"Yes, please. Is he okay?"

"Of course he's okay. Come on, this way." Tom sounded almost eager.

Tom led Reid to a door that revealed a stair leading down to a basement. Reid carefully navigated down the steep stair, which was a little tricky without the use of his arms, but Tom's hand around this bicep helped him balance.

The basement was lit up by a single light bulb, covered by a dirty globe. On the far end of the basement was a bed, with a small body in. A small, unmoving body. Reid's heart skipped a beat. No, he couldn't be dead yet! There was still at least 24 hours left. He must be asleep. Tom pulled him over to the bed.

"Mattie," he called. "Mattie, Daddy's home. Everything is okay, Daddy's here now."

When they got near the bed, Reid could see that the small blond head was turned towards the wall. The boy's little green eyes were open, but they were dull and he didn't move them to acknowledge their presence. One of his hands was chained to a horizontal bar on the bed frame, giving the child a wide range of motion, but not letting him get off the bed. Reid's heart ached to take the boy in his arms and hug him safe again.

"Mattie, this is Spencer" Tom said, making introduction. "He's gonna be here for a while, but don't worry, he won't hurt you. I'm gonna put him over here, and he won't get near you."

Reid was pulled over to a radiator a few feet away from the bed. Tom unlocked the handcuff on his right arm, and then fastened it around the radiator pipe. He looked over at Bailey.

"Isn't he beautiful?" he asked. "My wonderful little boy."

The change that had come over Tom in the basement was astonishing. He had changed his body language and even the pitch of his voice. He wasn't at all the man that had brutally attacked Reid in the parking lot and used Reid's own gun on him and tried to interrogate him. Now he spoke much sweeter, and seemed less threatening, but he still felt highly unpredictable. Reid wondered if he had some kind of personality disorder.

Tom went back to Bailey and sat on the edge of the bed. He tenderly put his hand on the boy's head, stroking his hair. "Are you feeling better, son? Do you have a kiss for Daddy tonight? No? You can't go on sulking forever, Mattie. Can't I have a kiss, please?"

There was no response from the bed. Reid's stomach made somersaults. Sweet words, which would have fit in the mouth of any loving parent, were being perverted and twisted. He couldn't imagine being in Bailey's position, having this fatherly love declared by a stranger that had stolen you from your home in the middle of the night and was keeping you chained up in a basement.

Tom sighed. "Never mind then. You rest for a while, I'll be back soon with your dinner. I love you." He kissed the boy on the forehead and left the basement, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Reid strained to get as close to the bed as possible. "Bailey, can you hear me? My name is Spencer and I'm with the FBI. Do you know what the FBI is? It's like the police. I'm part of a really big group of policemen who are all looking for you, day and night.

"I met your family today. They are really sad, and they miss you a lot. Your dad showed me your collection of baseball caps. You had quite a lot there, buddy. Your dad promised that he would take you to New York next season. Just you and him at a Yankees-game. He and your mom love you a lot. Your grandmother has baked oatmeal cookies that are waiting for you in the pantry at home. And your sister, Cassie, has been taping every episode of Pokémon for you. I saw Daisy too, your dog. She misses you too. Your mom said that she walks around the house all day with her red ball in her mouth, looking for you. So remember that, Bailey. Every time he is down here, talking to you, remember how much your family love you and miss you. And I'm going to do everything I can to help you get home. I promise, Bailey, everything I can."

'This ends here,' Reid thought. Now that he had actually met Bailey, he could not imagine this little boy dead. He would fight for him, to his dying breath. And he still had 24 hours.

When the door opened again Tome came down, carefully balancing a TV tray. He put it on the bed and fetched a key that hung on a nail on the wall just out of reach for a little boy. He unlocked the cuff around Bailey's arm and lifted him up into a sitting position.

"Are you gonna eat today, or am I gonna have to feed you again?"

Bailey looked up at him, and then he looked over at Reid. Their eyes met for the first time and Reid nodded at him and mouthed 'Go ahead'. Bailey carefully picked up the spoon and started eating the tomato soup, holding a piece of bread in his other hand.

"Good boy," Tom crooned, "I knew you could do it. I knew you were a big boy!"

When Bailey had finished his dinner, Tom put the tray on the floor and reached for the boy. "Come on, time to brush your teeth, then it's time for bed."

They disappeared up the stair and Reid hated to see them go, but he took comfort in the fact that it was only Thursday. He looked at his watch. It was 12.03. It was Friday.

Friday

Reid woke up with a start when he heard the basement door open. He glanced at his watch. It was 3.52 a.m. When Tom had brought Bailey back from the bathroom, he had chained him up again, and tucked him in. Reid had then talked to the boy, mostly nonsense, telling him stories, as he had listened to Bailey's breath even out until he was sure he was asleep. He had then spent quite some time examining the handcuffs and the radiator pipe he was cuffed to, but had found no weak spots. He didn't remember falling asleep, though.

Tom came down and walked right by Reid, not even acknowledging him. There was an aroma of whisky around him. He sat down on the bed and shook Bailey. "Mattie? Come on baby, time to wake up. There's a good boy."

Reid could see Bailey's body tense as he woke up, but he didn't move.

"Mattie?" Tom was crying now, sobbing in between words. "I'm so sorry, Daddy's so so sorry. Please Mattie, forgive me. I didn't mean it. Daddy loves you so much."

He was hugging Bailey around the waist, and had buried his face in the boy's pajama shirt. The boy was crying too. Silent, despairing tears.

"It's okay, Mattie, Daddy's gonna make it up to you. He's gonna give you a real bath, I'll show you that I can do it, that you can trust me. I'll take such good care of you."

Reid's heart stopped. Was this it? Had the timeframe changed? Why? Was it his fault? Don't upset the unsub's routine, it said so right in the profile he had helped create.

Tom was already reaching for the handcuff key. "A nice hot bath. Then we'll both feel better. You'll see."

Time was running out, and so were his options. Reid could only think of one. He stood up, going as close to the bed as he could. "Hey Tom, why did you do it, huh?"

Tom froze in mid-movement and turned his head towards Reid.

"Why did you kill your son? Huh? What did you do anyway? I bet you left him alone in the tub. To answer the phone maybe? Or check out the TV? Or yell at your wife? Or were you just drunk? Why did you do that? Any idiot knows you can't leave a kid alone in the bath tub."

Tom shook his head, frowning. "No, no, don't say that. Don't talk like that. Shut up! You hear me? Shut up!"

But Reid ignored him. "What did it feel like? Seeing him floating in the tub, knowing it was all your fault. What did your wife do? Did she hit you, did she scream at you, throw you out of the house? Did she hate your guts? I bet she did! Who could ever love the man that killed your child?"

Tom had put his hands over his ears and was rocking back and forth. "No, no, no... it wasn't like that. Not at all. It was an accident."

Bailey's eyes were wide as saucers as he looked between Tom and Reid, his fear clearly visible in his face.

"An accident? What about all the other boys, Tom. What about all the other Matties? Those weren't accidents. Those were murders. How many times does Mattie have to die, Tom? How many times are you going to kill him? How is he ever going to be able to forgive you, if you keep killing him over and over again? Why can't you just leave him alone? He's dead, Tom. He's dead, and nothing can change that."

"NOOOOOOO!" Tom flew up from the bed, with tear-streaked cheeks and fire in his eyes.

"You don't know anything!" he yelled as he attacked Reid. The first punch to his face was so fast he didn't have time to even try to block it. It also slammed him back into the wall and into the radiator. He gasped as the top of the radiator bit into his lower back. Reid stretched out his arms as far as he could to try and keep Tom away from his body, but Tom's next strike was at his legs, and as they were swept from underneath him, Reid spun around and fell. Unfortunately he fell directly onto his own outstretched arm, the one that was cuffed to the radiator. He could hear the sickening pop as his shoulder joint dislocated due to the stress of trying to catch his bodyweight at such a high velocity. The sudden pain blinded him. He could hear himself screaming, but it was as if the sound came from far away. More blows and kicks were raining down on his body, but his whole body, except for his arm and shoulder felt numb, so he couldn't tell where or how bad it was at first. Then, all of a sudden, dozens of little fires were popping up on his body, crying for his attention. He curled into a fetal position, and tried to protect his head by curling his good arm around it. The whole time he could hear Tom yelling incoherently at him, calling him names, telling him that he just didn't understand. Reid just hoped that this was enough to make Tom forget about what he had been about to do to Bailey.

After an immeasurable time the beating stopped, and over the ringing in his ears Reid heard Tom stomp up the stair and slam the door behind him. He desperately wanted to check on Bailey, to tell him everything would be okay, but he couldn't get his body to obey. A blackness started to creep into the corners of his eyes, and spread until he couldn't resist the alluring darkness and his body fell into unconsciousness.

The mood at the Fairmount Sheriff's department was very tense. Activity had picked up at the command center again, in spite of the late hour. Mikey and his son, who worked as a chef at The Red Dragon, had both worked together with a sketch artist. They said that though they recognized their customer, they didn't know anything about him, except his food preferences. He would come in every few weeks, always ate shrimps in sweet-and-sour sauce and he always paid cash. The sketches had been shown around to everybody on the team, and some of the deputies thought he might look familiar, but they couldn't place him. They were now waiting for the day to start so they could go out and show the sketches around. The BAU team had gathered together, frenetically going over every scrap of evidence they could find.

Hotchner's normally tidy appearance now looked rather dingy. He had taken of his jacket and even loosened his tie. His face was grim and he kept looking at his watch.

Gideon just looked tired. He kept rubbing his hands over his face and sighing. He knew all the statistics and the odds, but he had faith in Reid. If anybody could beat the odds, it was him. Gideon was counting on him to help himself, but that didn't stop him from worrying

Morgan was all over the place, he couldn't sit still and whenever he talked, it was louder than normal. He kept leafing through report after report, but had trouble focusing. He wanted to find the answer plainly written down in bold red letters somewhere.

JJ had spent most of the night with her phone glued to her ear. Her voice betrayed nothing, but she kept playing with her hair and gnawing her lower lip. She also kept running between the different groups in the room, putting together their meager findings.

Elle had spent the entire night sitting in the same chair, tapping away on her computer; compiling a list of every suspect, witness and resident of Fairmount she could find who was within the right age, sex and race perimeters. She desperately needed to feel like she was doing something worthwhile, something that would help Reid and Bailey.

"We're getting nowhere," Morgan growled. "Reid's been missing for eight hours now."

"And Bailey Sanders has been missing for five days," Gideon reminded him. "They are equally important to find."

"But Bailey still has 20 hours to live," Morgan argued. "Reid could be lying dead on the side of the road for all we know! Why would the unsub have taken him?"

"Do you think Reid somehow identified him in the restaurant?" JJ theorized.

"I doubt it." Gideon said, idly running his finger back and forth over the rim of his coffee cup, eyes focused somewhere far away. "Not unless the unsub somehow identified himself, but I don't see why he would do that. This kidnapping is so far out of his pattern, it's impossible to map. I think it was a spur of the moment decision."

"The owner of the restaurant said that they talked about Reid being a profiler," Hotchner said, scratching his furrowed forehead. "He would have heard that. We know that the unsub is stressed about the investigation. Suddenly having a whole team of profilers on his tail must be terrifying for him. He must have seen Reid as a threat."

"No, I don't like that," Elle said. "If he's a threat, then there's no reason to keep him alive. He could have just killed him in the parking lot. Why leave all his things behind, and then drive off with him?"

"Maybe it's a diversion," JJ said. "Maybe he wants to redirect our attention, our focus, to give him time to finish his business with Bailey."

"No," Gideon said, "Then there would have been a ransom note or some contact by now. Otherwise we just keep looking for both of them in the same place. It must have been some sort of fear-based decision. He's probably trying to figure out what to do with him now that he has him."

"Well, that doesn't help us find him, does it?" Morgan was frustrated. He gestured to Elle's computer. "How can we not find someone who fits the profile?"

"I can actually find several here who might fit the current profile, but the background keeps sending me off-track. There's no one here with a drowned son."

Hotchner looked up. "What if his past history really is in the past?"

"What do you mean?" The team looked at him, confused.

"What if his past hurt so much that he's wiped it out completely. We know he has changed his life-style. Maybe he changed his name too."

They all looked at each other. All new leads were good news. Gideon took charge. "Elle, e-mail that list to Garcia, Morgan…"

"Already dialing, Gideon."

It rang three times before the phone on the other end was picked up.

"Pen…eh…eh…eh…lope" Most of the greeting was drowned in a giant yawn.

"That's how you answer your phone now, Garcia?"

"What? Morgan?" Garcia still sounded a bit out of it.

"The one and only, baby."

"It's 4.30 in the morning, Sweetcheeks, aren't you gonna say 'Sorry for waking you'?

"No," Morgan said curtly. "Are you awake now?"

"I suppose."

"Good," Morgan said. "Elle is e-mailing you a list of names. We need you to check if any of them has ever changed his name, and if so, his background under his old name. Got it?"

"Right. Fine." Rustling sounds through the phone told Morgan that Garcia was getting out of bed. "I'll get to the office as soon as I can... Is this the kidnapper?

"Yes."

"So you need it, what, like yesterday."

"More like last week." Morgan didn't really want to tell her what had happened, but he knew he had to. He took a deep breath. "Pen, he's taken Reid."

There was a short silence.

"Our Reid?"

"Yes."

"I'm so gone, I'm not even putting make-up on."

A buzzing noise informed Morgan that Garcia had hung up.

TBC