Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Mistaken

"I have learned as a composer chiefly through my mistakes and pursuits of false assumptions, not by my exposure to fonts of wisdom and knowledge." - Igor Stravinsky

Hotch and Morgan followed Savannah out into the hot, humid air, careful not to stumble where the back step was missing.

"Well, there's a lot of ground out here to cover," Savannah swept her arms out in an all-encompassing circle. "Maybe we should split up," she suggested, "I could head out toward the barn and you…um…Mor…?"

"Morgan," he supplied with a slight frown.

"Yes, Morgan, you could head out toward the swamp in that direction," Savannah pointed off toward the left of the house, "and you," she pointed at Hotch, "you could head off to the right, that's a spot where the boys like to play when they come, there's a tire swing and a lean-to fort."

"Excuse me Miss…Leigh?" Hotch faltered.

"Last name's Breighton."

"Miss Breighton, I think it would be best if we didn't split up," Hotch looked around Savannah's backyard, squinting, a slight frown on his face.

"Well, if that's whatchya think, it's just we could cover more ground if we split up," Savannah shrugged and headed off in the direction of the ramshackle barn. It too had seen better days; the once red paint was now a dirty rust color and peeling in a number of places. The trim was no longer the typical white, but a slight silver color from the wood having become weathered through the years.

"This barn's been around since 1920," Savannah supplied as Hotch and Morgan followed, both keeping their eyes open, looking around in all directions as they made their way to the barn.

"Would Aiken be safe in there?" Morgan gestured toward the barn, his jaw tightened in concern.

"Honestly the boys didn't go out here much, but I don't think it would've fallen down around 'em if they had," Savannah lead the way into the darkened barn, ducking slightly to miss hitting her head on a beam that had fallen. Brushing at cobwebs, Morgan and Hotch followed.

"Aiken," Savannah called, "Aiken sweetie, you in here?" Morgan and Hotch each took a side and searched the barn, careful to avoid beams that had fallen. Savannah made her way up to the loft using a rotting wooden ladder which had threatened to give way under her a couple of times.

"Aiken, are you up here hon?" Savannah swept hay out of her hair as she crawled around the loft. Wood creaking beneath her, she made her way to a window looking out over a field where a few cattle that her grandfather had once had used to graze. She looked out at the field, not seeing Aiken there, she turned away from the window and felt the wood beneath her give a bit. Planting her weight she drew in a sharp breath and waited a couple of seconds before moving forward, praying that she wouldn't come crashing down to the floor beneath her. It wasn't that far of a drop, but she knew that it would hurt and possibly break a bone if she were to fall. Not to mention that it would be embarrassing.

Morgan, having checked out the stalls on the left side of the barn and finding nothing, turned when he heard Savannah's intake of breath. He quickly made his way across the barn and readied himself to catch her should she fall through the decaying wood of the loft. He followed her movements as she slowly made her way to the ladder and held the ladder as she made her way down, catching her when the third rung gave out under her.

"So, you were saying…" Morgan teased, as he turned and put her on her feet, "something about the barn not falling down around them."

"I would have to disagree with that statement," Hotch said from his position near the rear door of the barn, a breeze had started blowing and he watched as the entire roof of the barn swayed in the wind, "I think you should probably have this razed as soon as we get safely out of here. I'm sure it is a fire hazard or against a public ordinance or two."

"You okay?" Morgan asked, releasing his hold on Savannah's shoulders when she had stopped shaking. She nodded, testing her weight on her ankles, and sighed in relief when she remained pain free.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she smiled up at him, blushing.

"I'm heading into the field," Hotch called to the two and walked out of the barn, thanking God that it had not fallen down around him. Savannah and Morgan followed.

"Aiken!" Hotch cupped his hands around his mouth and called hoping to hear a response. When none came, he continued his walk around the right side of the broken fence, stopping every yard or so to call for the boy. Morgan did the same on the left side of the fence and Savannah walked down the middle of the field, sweeping her eyes in all directions.

"He's not here," Hotch let out an exasperated breath, "where else could he be on your property?"

"Maybe he's not even here," Savannah frowned. She had hoped that the boy had sought out her place for refuge, but what if he had gotten lost somewhere in the woods between his home and hers?

"How about over there?" Morgan pointed to a metal shed just off the field.

"It's got a lock on it, but we can check," Savannah hopped over the fence and lead the way.

"Looks like the lock's intact," Hotch sighed heavily as he let the lock drop back into place, "Aiken? You in here?" He called anyway. Getting no answer, the three turned away from the shed and made their way back toward the barn.

"We can check the swamp area on the other side of the barn and the little play area on this side," Savannah said with a defeated voice, "maybe he's hiding in the lean-to fort or maybe he went into the swamp, though I hope not."

"Maybe we should've split up," Hotch looked around. Savannah's property seemed to be getting larger by the minute. Maybe he should call in another team member as he didn't want them to be on their own, Savannah's near accident convinced him that he had made the right decision in the first place, yet he wanted to cover more territory as quickly as possible. Every minute counted when a child was missing; the thought of his own son going missing prompted him to reach for his phone. He punched in the speed dial for Prentiss and waited, frustration quickly coloring his face when he realized that there was no reception.

"You got a signal?" Hotch asked Morgan who had dialed Garcia.

"Nothing," Morgan replied, looking around. They sure were isolated.

"You got a phone?" Hotch asked Savannah who was already shaking her head.

"Sorry, no phone, I don't spend much time out here during the week, and sometimes I get cell phone reception, but most times I don't," she offered a sympathetic look.

"Okay, you two go off in that direction," Hotch said grimly, "I'll go around the barn toward the swamp. If you run into any trouble holler." He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that Aiken was somewhere nearby. Or perhaps he was just hanging onto that hope, knowing that the alternative was by far a much worse scenario. Either way, he was not giving up on this search until Aiken was found and brought home safely or he was physically carted away.

He briefly felt a moment of anxiety remembering that Reid was alone in Savannah's house with a cell phone that was probably not working. He hoped that the young man was okay. As he passed the back door of the house on his way to the swamp, he thought momentarily of popping in to check on Reid, but dismissed the idea as overprotective. He didn't want Reid to feel smothered or as though he didn't trust the young man. He knew that he had been embarrassed and was feeling ill-at-ease over what had happened earlier. Not having the time to address the issue, Hotch had let it slide, thinking he could talk to the boy after Aiken had been found. He knew that Reid needed the reassurance and that the young man struggled with feeling that he was strong enough and probably had even more self-doubt due to his torture at the hands of Hankel. That still made him angry and filled him with sorrow every time he thought of it.

"So, tell me about Reid," Savannah threw over her shoulder as she made her way into the lean-to, looking for Aiken. She needed a diversion to keep her from despair at the thought of never finding Aiken. She also kept thinking about what the little boy had witnessed; her mind kept playing various scenes of Molly and Braden's deaths, each more gruesome than the last. Morgan's eyes were raking the woods that encompassed the play area, which appeared to be the newest portion of the farm.

"Um, what do you want to know?" Morgan stood facing the woods, his hands on his hips, a scowl on his face as he tried in vain to see what was not there – a little boy they had spent the past forty minutes scouring Savannah's property for.

"Well, what's he like? Is he always so awkward?" Savannah, not looking in Morgan's direction did not notice the faint smile that played at his lips. Though he was searching for a frightened little boy, he was happy that this beautiful woman seemed to be interested in his friend. He could see them together. She could supply the confidence Reid seemed to lack. Yeah, she would be good for him.

Clearing his throat, Morgan spoke, "Well, he's a genius you know, he remembers everything he sees and reads and is a great asset to the team in the sheer amount of what he can reason out in that mind of his. He is a bit awkward in certain situations, especially around women. He is very sweet and gentle," what else should he tell this woman? Morgan suddenly felt protective of his friend. What did

he really know about this woman other than she had inherited a broken down farm, knew the victims, and was good looking? Could he trust her with his friend's heart? He didn't want to see Reid broken again. He knew that he was stronger than many would give him credit for, but still, could this beauty be trusted with something as precious as his friend's heart?

"Go on," Savannah crawled out of the lean-to, dusting dirt off her pants, and looked back toward the house, a wistful smile in place. Perhaps when they walked back to the house, Aiken would be there with Reid and all would be well. Smothering a gasp with the back of her hand, she wiped at a tear that threatened to fall as she realized that nothing would ever be the same for Aiken or his father. Their lives would be forever haunted by this monster that had killed two key people in their world. Why had he chosen to go after Molly and Braden? Why hadn't he killed Aiken too? What kind of monster would kill a kind woman like that and a little boy?

"You'll have to find out the rest for yourself," Morgan said noncommittally; not looking in Savannah's direction he hadn't seen the grimace on her face, "where else should we look?"

Sighing, Savannah led them to a small garage off to the side of the house, past their vehicles parked in the gravel drive. Morgan shook his head in disbelief when she pried open the garage door. If Aiken were in there, he would have had to really squeeze himself in, it was packed with boxes and rusty junk from one end to the other. He doubted a mouse could fit itself in the garage, let alone a little boy, no matter how small he was.

"Okay, so doubtful Aiken could be in here," Morgan turned away from the garage.

"Well, there's always the crick," Savannah turned and headed toward the small play area, but cut off toward the right just before reaching the lean-to. Morgan quickly followed, picking his way through the trees. Savannah seemed hell-bent on getting to that crick. Or maybe she had been offended by the way in which he had changed the subject from Reid to the search so abruptly. He nearly bumped into her as she had stopped walking without any warning.

"He's been here," the happiness was evident in her voice. The grin she wore radiated her face.

"How do you know that?" Morgan asked.

"Look here, there's a footprint in the mud along the bank," she pointed at what looked like an imprint of a boy's sneaker. Morgan knelt down, unconcerned about the mud that stained his khakis. The track looked fresh; perhaps it had been made that day. It would be hard to tell, normally a print made in mud would dry up and eventually become untraceable within a matter of a few days, but here it would take longer for that to happen. The thick foliage allowed for little sun to peak through, so the ground was moist and the air cooler where they stood. A print could last for weeks undisturbed.

"When is the last time that Aiken and Braden visited?" Morgan noticed another bigger print a few feet away from the one that Savannah had discovered.

"They were out here last Saturday," she said crestfallen. It seemed crazy that only four days ago Braden, Aiken, and their cousins had been out to the farm. They had helped her work on the kitchen and one of the upstairs rooms and had played outdoors until Molly had come to drop off dinner for Savannah and pick them up. Savannah had enjoyed the day and had looked forward to this coming weekend with the boys. She knew that it gave Molly and Steve some much needed alone time and it gave her much needed help. Tears flooded her eyes as the reality of it all hit her. She couldn't even imagine how hard this would be for Steve when it all sunk in.

Sensing the change in her mood, Morgan stood and pulled her into a hug, cradling her head against his chest, rubbing his hand on her back in a gesture of comfort. Tears overflowed and spilled down her cheeks, wetting his black t-shirt. "Shhh, I know it hurts," he murmured, "right now we need to focus on finding Aiken, okay." He pulled back from her when she took in a shuddery breath and pushed against his chest. Wiping her tears away, she took another deep breath and plastered a watery smile on her face.

"Aiken?" She called half-heartedly, "Where are you?"

A mile in the other direction, Hotch was asking the same question as he rested for a moment on a fallen log before making his way back toward the house. Maybe Morgan and Savannah had experienced better luck. Maybe they had found Aiken.