A/N: So sorry this has taken so long! On top of everything else that's been going on, the internet router has been messed up at Clay county and I feel like I've been there for a week. Plus I haven't slept for more than three hours at a time since last Thursday. Plus I had a serious allergic reaction at work and my own crew had to work on me. Plus I had a wreck and got the crap beat out of me (again) on a run. It's been a rough week. Please review, it will make me feel better. Oh...also, please pray for the real-life Doc Newswanger, who is a really wonderful person who specifically asked for the role he got in my story. He's leaving in the morning for Poland on a mission trip. It sounds dangerous, and I hope he's okay. Anyway, on with the story...

Trevor paced restlessly in the upstairs of the station. Gideon was scanning case files again, Morgan was muttering to himself, mentally replaying some of the scenes in hope of finding something, anything, that would help them find their new friends. JJ and Emily were handling the press, and Hotch…well, to the untrained observer, he seemed to be staring off into space, but his team knew he was really sorting through the few clues they had. So much of their jobs were cerebral, it sometimes seemed like they weren't doing anything when they were actually doing their best work.

Unfortunately, this is what it looked like to the distressed young sheriff. He continued his pacing until he went up to the far wall. There, he paused for a split second then pulled back his fist and punched the cinderblock wall. Morgan and Gideon were at his side instantly, Hotch only half a step behind. Reid winced, looking at Trevor's broken hand. Blood oozed from the scraped knuckles, and it had almost instantly turned blue and was swelling. Hotch took the wounded hand to examine it, prodding carefully around the misplaced bones. Trevor barely flinched. Reid looked around from one person to the next, and then said, "Uh…I'll go get one of the paramedics."

He turned toward the stairs, and Trevor called after him in a flat voice. "No use. Teri's our only paramedic. Got a couple of EMTs downstairs, but no medics."

Reid looked helplessly at Morgan, hoping in vain that his friend could help him get around his slip-up, but Morgan had nothing to say. There was nothing that could help right now, except finding the boy's sister and friend. Reid disappeared down the stairs.

Hotch, Gideon, and Morgan looked at each other, then at Trevor. None of them knew what to say. Finally, Trevor looked up from where the blood was dripping onto the grey tile. "Okay…"said Trevor. "So, now what?"

"Um…" Morgan said, "I'm thinking hospital."

It was almost as if Trevor hadn't noticed his injury until it was mentioned. He poked roughly at the swollen flesh and you could see the bones shifting under his fingers. Morgan turned pale, and Hotch felt his stomach roll. Gideon put an arm around Trevor, and led the boy toward the stairs. "I'll take you to the hospital. These guys will stay here and keep working."

"Working?" Trevor asked. "They're just sitting here!"

"Well, a lot of what we do-"

"Paramedics!" Reid exclaimed, running back up the stairs. All four men turned to look at him, confused.

"Uh, Reid," Hotch said. "There are no more paramedics. Teri…he doesn't need an ambulance anyway. It's just a broken hand!"

Reid didn't answer yet, just began digging through the case files looking for the paper he needed. Finally finding the picture, he waved it around as he talked way too fast. "Teri's a paramedic so she would have paramedic equipment but she's also the coroner so she doesn't always need paramedic stuff to say someone is dead if they're obviously dead

so-"

He was not doing such a good job with convincing them he hadn't come unhinged, so finally Morgan tried to calm him down. "Reid, when you're talking that fast, you lose us mere mortals. We know Teri's a medic, and the coroner. Now, what about the equipment?"

Reid took a deep breath and tried to slow the flood of his thoughts to a speed he could put into words. "We were with Teri when she found Jimmy. She just looked at him and could tell he was dead. She didn't do any paramedic stuff, just said that he was dead."

Trevor looked ready to kill. "You saw him! He was tortured and shot. She didn't need any 'paramedic stuff' to confirm it!"

Reid shook his head. This wasn't coming out right, and he was just pissing the sheriff off. "I know he was dead. I'm just establishing that she didn't hook him up to the…uh…defibrillator."

"Monitor," Trevor corrected automatically. "When it's checking for a heartbeat, it's a monitor, when it's shocking someone, it's a defibrillator."

"Okay. Anyway, she didn't. So who did?"

There was silence for a moment, then Hotch spoke up. "What?"

They gathered around Reid at the table, and he placed the rather gruesome post-mortem photo in front of them. He took an ink pen and drew three circles on the dead man's chest. "These are sticker marks. I've been trying to figure out what caused them, and it just hit me. ECG electrodes! Whoever did this…well…" He looked down again. "I haven't got the 'why' yet, I just figured out the 'what'."

"You did good, Reid," Morgan reassured him.

Trevor looked up at Gideon, almost like a scared little boy. "Will this help you guys find Teri?"

Gideon tried to put on his most reassuring smile. "It's the kind of thing we do. It's why you guys brought us here."

Trevor, though he may be young and scared, was not naïve enough to believe that was a real answer.

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The x-rays showed three broken bones in Trevor's hand. Gideon sat with him as they splinted it and made a cast out of something called ortho-glass. It was soft and flexible, then the doctor wet it, and as it dried, it became hard like a cast. The young man had been quite, but no longer seemed actively hostile against Gideon or his team. He just seemed exhausted.

"It doesn't seem right in here without Doc," he said suddenly. "I tried to pretend it was just his day off or something, not being held hostage by a psycho." Gideon nodded, knowing instinctively that Trevor needed to say more. Not to Gideon, but just to get it out. "I've been so worried about Teri that I haven't thought that much about Doc. I mean, she's not alone there. He's being tortured too. What do you think they're going through right now?"

Gideon hated that question. Absolutely despised it. What could he say? This bastard is flaying off your sister's skin and burning her with acid while a very close friend watches her suffer. Not a chance. But he couldn't lie to him. Any lie, no matter how well-intended, would be viewed as coddling the young sheriff, and would just make him angry. So he settled for the closest thing to the truth he could bear to say. "I don't know."

"I hope he doesn't know," Trevor went on, staring off into space.

"Hope he doesn't know what?" Gideon asked.

Trevor looked back at him, no longer looking so young or scared. He was not a kid, and had the grim expression of a seasoned law-enforcement officer. "Doc hates to see people in pain, especially his friends. When Teri sprained her back, he gave her pain pills, muscle relaxers, anti-inflammatories, and something for nausea. She slept for two days. I hope he has no idea about the profile. It'll be bad enough for him to have to watch her suffer. If he knows that it's all for his benefit, that he hurting her to hurt Doc... That's gotta be worse than death!"