Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Warning: Spoiler for "Revelations" (episode 37) season 2. This warning serves for future chapters as well.

Sidelined

"History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again." – Maya Angelou

"Watch your step, there's a bit of a drop-off. I haven't gotten around to fixing the back steps yet," Savannah said over her shoulder just as Reid landed once more on his butt. Real dignified there Reid, way to go. How to Win Friends and Influence People the Spencer Reid Way, over ten copies sold world-wide, he thought grimly as he picked himself up out of the dirt. At least it hadn't rained recently or I'd be caked in mud. Thank god for small favors.

He stood to find that, not only was Savannah watching him; a glint of mischief in her hazel eyes, but both Hotch; his mouth in a grim line, and Morgan; a big-old grin on his face had also stopped to watch his humiliation. All three of them had managed to make it out the back door without falling. Grimacing, he attempted to straighten his tall frame only to find that he had somehow managed to pull something in his back. Good going, just fake it, maybe no one will notice, there's a little boy out there who needs to be found.

"You okay Reid?" Instant concern etched Morgan's face as he reached out an arm to his colleague and friend.

"I'm fine," Reid struggled to stand upright and winced. Damn.

"We'd better get you back in the house and lie you down on a bed," Savannah had also reached a hand out to Reid. Both she and Morgan put an arm around the young man's waist and helped him back up into the house and steered him toward the main bedroom.

"I'll be fine," Reid protested, unable to actually pull away from Savannah's and Morgan's hold. Hotch hovered behind in the doorway, regarding the trio with a stern, yet unreadable look on his face. He's going to regret ever letting me on the team at the rate I'm going, Reid thought dismally, crack shot FBI agent to the rescue. More like bumbling idiot. He could just hear Hotch when they got back to headquarters, "Reid…we need to reevaluate your position on the BAU…maybe you'd be better suited to desk rather than field work…you have a great mind that we can really use, but…"

"Reid, we'll go check out the rest of the property, there's a barn out back and what looks like a makeshift junkyard. You can focus on anything we may have overlooked when we profiled our unsub," Hotch said without preamble.

"I'll go get a heating pad," Savannah rushed out of the room, returning a minute later with an old electric heating pad which she plugged in and brought over to the bed.

"Can you arch your back?" She asked as she placed a hand under his back to lift him, sending a tingle up his spine. For a moment Reid relished the feeling, a tense smile playing at his lips until a fresh spasm tore at his lower back. Clenching the bedspread in his fist, Reid ground his teeth and grimaced in pain.

"Here's some aspirin," Morgan pressed two pills into his friend's hand, handing him a glass of water. Reid struggled to lift himself enough to drink the water, but found that he couldn't. Savannah was quick to help him up and he sent her a grateful half-smile as he popped the pills into his mouth and sipped the water. Laying his head down on the pillow, he closed his eyes, waiting for the aspirin to take some affect, he knew it wouldn't be as good or quick as Dilaudid would and he scolded himself for even thinking that. Where's an NA meeting when I need one? He thought ruefully.

"Where's your cell phone?" Hotch asked.

"In my pocket," Reid opened his eyes and reached into his pocket to lay the phone on the bed next to him.

"Make sure that you keep it on and next to you in case anything happens. We'll finish checking the rest of the property and come and get you," Hotch's voice was strained. He must be angry that he has to waste so much valuable time on me, Reid thought.

"Did you hear me Reid?" Definitely a bit of impatience there.

"I'll be fine Hotch, it's not like some psycho is hiding in the basement or anything," Reid rolled his eyes and tried to sound lighthearted, but Hotch just gave him a pointed look and placed the cell phone on his chest.

"We'll be back soon," Hotch turned and headed out of the bedroom.

"Reid, don't worry about it. It'll be okay, just relax and think about how we're gonna get this guy," Morgan had read the worry that crossed Reid's features and knew that more than just the injury bothered the young man.

"Yeah," Reid said resignedly, "I'll rethink our profile. You guys go out and be the heroes." Man he really hated how whiny that had come out. Groaning inwardly, Reid closed his eyes once again and felt a light touch on his forehead as fingers brushed at his hair.

"Shhh…you just rest now," Savannah said in a soothing voice as she lightly kissed his lips and then left to join Morgan and Hotch in the search for Aiken.

When the door made a loud thunk, Reid started thinking through the profile his team had come up with a couple of days ago. Going through the information the area police had given them, they had concluded that the man they were looking for was in his late thirties or early forties, was scarred or disfigured in some minor way, spent weeks at a time studying his victims after he had chosen them, and that the crime was not sexually motivated.

They reasonably concluded that the murders were premeditated and well planned out. He waited for the husband to leave for work on a Wednesday and was invited into the home, like those inside were expecting someone (there was no sign of a forced entry at any of the 5 homes that he had invaded), and then he killed those who remained in the house, notably a mother and a son.

Usually those were the only two left in the home after the husband had gone. The husband would return after work to find his wife and son had been murdered with a knife from the kitchen. It would be staged to look like the murder had been committed by a distraught husband during a particularly heated argument. As a matter of fact, the first two husbands had been brought up on suspicion of murder and had only recently been cleared of any guilt. The unsub wanted the crime to look like domestic violence had turned to murder.

It was the third such murder that had the police looking at someone other than the husband. The husband, in this case, had not been the one to find the bodies. Instead, the neighbor kid, who had gone over to ask if his friend could go to the park, had discovered the bodies. Used to walking in after knocking, he entered the house and saw someone dressed in black leaving through the kitchen door. He called out for his friend, and when he got no response, he walked into the kitchen and that is where he found them.

When the fourth murder took place two weeks later, a homicide detective began to put the pieces together and discovered that three other similar murders had taken place within a 50 mile radius. He asked the chief to call the FBI when he realized that this could be the work of a serial killer who preyed on housewives and their sons.

As Reid thought through the profile and the facts of the crimes, he paused when he got to the most recent double homicide. It was different in that more than one boy was present. The Randalls had two sons, surely the unsub would have known that, given the amount of time he appeared to invest in studying his intended victims prior to committing the murders. In addition, the boy had not been killed with a knife; he had died from a blunt trauma to his head. Was it Braden and Molly's determination to keep Aiken safe that had caused events to turn out differently? Maybe they had fought more with the unsub and in his frustration he had thrown Braden into the refrigerator where he had struck his head and died. Had he even looked for Aiken? Maybe they were wrong in their profile with the assumption that the unsub studied the homes for a couple of weeks prior to committing the crime. How would he know there would be a housewife and a child in the homes if he didn't? Was he only going after those homes in which there were a housewife and a son? Could there be other murders they weren't looking at because the profile was not including everything it should?

Reid was torn abruptly from his thoughts when he heard the front door being pushed open. Were they already done looking for Aiken?

"Hotch? Morgan? Savannah?" He called from the room.

No one answered. Reid listened intently, trying to catch any sound coming from the other room. Why won't they answer? Opening his eyes, he placed his hand on his gun, and positioned himself so that he could see the door better.

Straining his ears and calming his breathing, Reid could just make out the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen. His heart began to beat a little more quickly and he attempted to sit up, failing as his back screamed in pain that nearly doubled him over.

"Who's there?" He called out. He knew he was being irrational, but in his mind he pictured a figure dressed in black searching the kitchen counter and drawers for a boning knife. Though he knew it would be highly improbable, his imagination continued to torture him further, as he pictured the man steadily making his way toward the bedroom, intent upon killing him.

He heard someone open and close something in the kitchen. His breathing quickened and he fumbled with his cell phone, hitting the speed dial for Morgan. Everything is going to be okay; Morgan, Hotch, and Savannah will be here any minute carrying a frightened, yet safe Aiken and the person in the kitchen would turn out to be Savannah's boyfriend – no – brother or sister. Why wasn't Morgan picking up? Looking at his cell phone, Reid realized that there weren't any bars and that his cell didn't have any reception. Damn it! He threw his cell phone to the floor. It was useless.

"Whoever you are, I have a gun and I am not afraid to use it," he shouted in what he hoped was a steady, confident voice in spite of the fact that he couldn't move due to the pain in his back. He would not be helpless; he could not be as helpless as he had when he was being held by Hankel and his multiple personalities. He would not go back to that time, he wouldn't. Reid scrunched his eyes in pain as he again attempted to sit up straight. He fell out of the bed with a thump and landed in an unimpressive lump on the floor. His gun, which he had just freed from the holster, clattered to the floor as he fell and slid away from his grasp underneath the bed, out of his reach.

Hearing a loud crash followed a few moments later by a bang coming from the kitchen, Reid focused on trying to push himself up off the floor. He would face whatever came his way with bravery, or at least with an attempt at bravery. Gritting his teeth, he managed to roll himself into a sitting position. Placing his back toward the wall he panted heavily willing the pain to subside. His head pounded with the effort. He raised his head shakily, determined to face whatever came his way.

Soft, steady footsteps made their way out of the kitchen and toward the room Reid huddled in. He could hear each step as the intruder drew nearer, tha thump, tha thump, like an unfaltering heartbeat. The steps stalled just outside the door, Reid watched through feverish eyes as the knob turned. He took a deep breath, his heart stopping for a beat, and waited for the door to open.