--Have fun guys!--

11

"I can't believe it was one of my own," Deaton said, following Morgan, Prentice and Hotch out of the small cabin. "I mean I knew he was taking a vacation here this week, said it was his folks house, but I never would have guessed…"

Morgan shook his head as they stepped off the porch steps, past the Ambulance that were being occupied by a young woman that would have been killed in less than ten minutes from when they got there. Man, they had definitely cut this one close…

Slow movements. Muffled footsteps on the grass. Surrounding the house barely making a sound. Guns loaded and cocked, gripped tightly in hands. Routine. Front door in sight. One kick and it would come down, a small shower of splinters following the broken lock. But that was after they knocked first.

No answer at the door, there never was. Maybe he would try and run, maybe he'd take the coward's way out. Maybe he'd take the girl with him. You never knew how these things would go. Even if you were an FBI agent. BAU or not, you couldn't predict what everyone was gonna do.

"Harrison, this is the FBI open up!" Morgan yelled, slamming his fist on the large wooden door. Of course, and as usual, there was no answer. "This is the FBI open the door!" And, once again, there was silence on the other side. Morgan motioned to a member of the SWAT team that was close to the door. The man stepped back and kicked the door directly under the knob, having the exact affect that Morgan had predicted. Guns pointed in all directions, shouts of "clear" were heard throughout the house.

Morgan saw Hotch open a bedroom door and turn around, gesturing for him to follow. Prentice turned the corner and disappeared with another member of SWAT. Morgan followed Hotch into the room, shifting his grip on the gun.

"Here!" Hotch bellowed. Morgan saw nothing until he stood next to Hotch, who had his gun carefully aimed at Harrison's chest. There was only one reason that Hotch hadn't arrested him.

Monica Ellis, who was in Harrison's arms and had a large needle and syringe pointed at her throat. Full of Methamphetamine, just like all of the other girls. A blindfold tied around her eyes, just like the other ones. Her breath was rapid and heavy her wrists bound with wire, both being held by one of Harrison's hands. They were on the ground, the obvious signs of torture visible on her body.

Morgan felt for the woman for a moment, knowing how terrified she must be, and how thankful she must be that they were here. And how devastated she was that they might not be able to save her. Once again, BAU or not, you never know how these things will go.

"Harrison you don't want to do this," Hotch assured. "Let her go, and this will all be over." He said.

"No!" Harrison bellowed. Monica winced and whimpered. "No it's not over! It can't be over! I have to FINISH THIS!" He pushed the needle harder in to Monica's neck. She whimpered louder. Morgan flexed his jaw and squeezed his gun tighter.

"No, you don't. You know this is not right. I know what your mother did to you. I know how much you despise these blonde women and their facades of being so pretty on the outside and ugly on the inside. I understand. But, Monica is a good woman," Hotch said carefully. "You and I both know that. Now, let her go."

There was no way, no way that would work. Morgan thought. But, by some amazing grace of God, Harrison let go of Monica. He stood as she fell to the floor, his hands behind his head, facing the wall. Hotch pulled out his handcuffs, Morgan bent down and lifted Monica in his arms. She squirmed and writhed, moaning for him to let her go.

"Shh, it's alright. It's okay you're safe." He soothed. He untied the blindfold and unwound the wire on her wrists. He looked toward the doorway, up at Emily.

"Get the medics in here." He said.

"I already did."

Now they were back outside, walking past Monica. Morgan had to make sure she would be okay.

He walked up to the gurney and she smiled at him.

"You gonna be okay?" He asked gently. She nodded weakly.

"What's your name?" She asked. Morgan grinned.

"Derrick." He said.

"Derrick," She repeated. "You and your friend saved my life." She whispered. Morgan shook his head.

"You wanna thank somebody, if you can get to the Toledo police station by the end of the week you look for a Dr. Spencer Reid. Thank him. He's the one that found out where you were." He said. Monica nodded and mouthed the name again.

"Okay," She said. "Ill be there." Morgan squeezed her hand and walked away.

"You know Reid's gonna be so embarrassed if she stops by." Emily said. Morgan frowned and looked at the ground.

"If he…ya know, still acts like Reid." He grumbled. He was willing to do anything for that kid. But this, he didn't know what to do. He missed his friend, and he wanted him back.

"We'll get Reid back, okay?" Emily said. "I'm sure Gideon has something working in that head of his to get Spencer back." Morgan shook his head. It had been merely weeks since he had to watch that bastard hurt his best friend. He never wanted to commit murder so bad in his life. And now he had lost hi again, only this time he had no way to find him.

"Let's get back to the station." He said. "I'm kinda worried about Reid. Garcia said he was getting sick." Emily opened the passenger door to the large black SUV and got in. Morgan did the same and turned the keys in the ignition. J.J. and Hotch were in the car in front of them, already turning out of the parking lot. He put the car in drive and pulled out.

"Well, at least we got one mess out of the way." Emily said with a small shrug. Morgan nodded.

"One mess gone, another disaster about forty minutes away." He muttered.

--Oo! Guess what?! Now it's time for feedback!--