[Here's another chapter! I'm glad it didn't take me too long. I may have mess ups and if I do, please tell me in a review, so I can go back and check it. I'm not sure if I'm doing so well with the main characters, so if anyone thinks I'm doing a not-too-great job, please tell what I could do to improve. I hope you are all enjoying this story and that I'm doing a good job with this. I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS OR ITS CHARACTERS, JUST MINE! R&R please!!^^]

"What can you tell us about what your daughter was like?" Hotch asked. J.J. was sitting right beside him, waiting.

"Haven't we already gone over this?!" the woman said, the mother. She had a tissue to her face and was wiping tears. "I thought we told you everything we needed!"

"We're sorry," J.J. began. "But, there was another victim and we're starting to wonder what his reasons truly are for what he's doing. And the only way we can know that, is if we find out more about his victims."

"But I thought you did that before." The man said, the father. He wasn't as emotional as his wife, but he did seem to be holding back tears.

"Yes, we did. But not as thoroughly as we feel we should now." Hotch told them. "I am sorry, but if we're going to catch this killer, we have to everything we can about why he chose who he chose. And we can only find that out if you tell us all you can about your daughter. Everything you know she did or anything. Maybe some of her friends we could get in contact with, if she has any."

The couple were quiet for a moment, but then look at each other and then Hotch and nodded.

"The first thing I'm going to ask may shock you, but I need you to keep an open, clear mind and answer me truthfully." They nodded and then Hotch asked the question he thought may be one of the main reasons the killer was killing who he's killing, though it wasn't clear yet why. "Did your daughter drink or smoke or do any kind of drugs at all?"

They gasped, surprised by the question. At first, they blurted out immediately, saying, "No, Shyanne would never do those kinds of things!! How dare you?!"

"Please, Ms. And Mr. Clearwater." J.J. said, trying to calm them. They were outraged. "Let him continue."

"Look, I know it's shocking to think she may have done anything like that. But, just because you don't believe, it doesn't mean it's not true. Please, think back on the last times you saw her before. Was there something different about her behavior that you just couldn't pinpoint? Was she angry a lot, or maybe more carefree than ever? Anything out of character for her?"

The Mr. Clearwater was quiet for a moment, glaring at Hotch, but thinking. And then Ms. Clearwater burst into tears and fell on her husbands shoulder. Hotch and J.J. gave her a moment and once she had slowed her sobbing a bit, she said, "She'd always…always ask to watch 'Steal Magnolia's' when she came to visit, if she did… we never talked enough," she sobbed a lot for a minute, but continued. "always distant because of how things were when she had left, but when she did come home, it was like we were a happy family again. She'd always ignore any faults in the day and would just enjoy it here." She sobbed some more. "But, the last two times she came home, she never watched the movie and she was just so distant. When she was actually in the house on her visit, she'd be listening to music and almost ignoring us unless we really needed her for something. And she'd be gone the rest of the day, not answering our calls. And…before…" she sobbed and then swallowed. "We had a fight-the worst of them all and she said…she said she'd never be coming back!" then, she couldn't stay any longer. She hurried out of the room and up the stairs, crying all the way.

Mr. Clearwater was crying, not sobbing. The tears just streaked down his face. He cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, sir, we had-" J.J. began, but he cut her off.

"I…I always wondered if that was her reason for staying away…I never thought she'd…." he couldn't say it. "But, my parents didn't think I would either and I did when I was young… Can I ask one thing?" he asked and he seemed dead. His face was blank and tired.

"What?" J.J. asked.

"Bring down the son of bitch who hurt my daughter. And soon."

"We'll do everything we can, sir." Hotch told him. "I still need to ask a few more questions, if you don't mind. Though, now, I doubt if you would or not. Still, answer me truthfully."

"What?"

"Did you…used to ignore her? In any way that you can think of, looking back now, did you ever ignore her or pay her no attention for a while? If so, we need to know."

"No, it was never that bad. It was only those two fights that really…broke us apart."

"Can you tell us what they were about? I know this is personal, but anything may be of use in finding this guy." J.J. told him, hoping he'd tell if she said that.

He looked at them for a moment and nodded, sighing and wiping his eyes.

"Get away from me…" I warned in a low voice as the killer had just come back into the barn. It had just started getting really, really bright outside and I wondered if it was around nine or eleven a.m. I had my hands behind myself. I had cut the tape apart before, but I can't let him know until I'm ready.

He just smiled and laughed, walking to me slowly.

"You better not touch me." I warned again.

He knelt down in front of me as I backed into some hay stacks. He just smiled a yellow toothed smile and then he grabbed the side of my arms hard, yanking me to my feet.

He let go and let me stand for a moment but then I fell into the hay stacks, off balance because my feet were still taped, I hadn't been able to cut them as easily and he came before I could. He laughed at me. Just then, I used my hands to push myself up and pushed myself forward, with my feet, until I was lunging at him, my arms swinging.

He grunted and cursed a bit as I scratched him and punched him and even got a chance to headbutt him, but then he punched me in the stomach and I toppled to the ground, clutching my stomach and trying hard to breath.

"You have a little fire…." He said and I could hear the smile in his voice. "Don't worry," he was now behind me at my ear as I began coughing and breathing in deeply. "I'll knock the fight out of you real soon…"

"Aaah!" he kicked me in the back, making me fly a few feet across the room. I tried my best to ignore the pain and get up, but then he smacked me in the back of the head, knocking me to the ground. I rolled over and watched him as he smiled.

Just then, I summoned all the strength I had at the moment and kicked him in the stomach. He staggered back as I rolled away from him and then tried again to get up. He was laughing now, coming closer again. I was on my feet again, crouching.

"Leave me alone!" I yelled and tried to tackle him, but he just grabbed my arms hard and threw me down, my side hitting the ground hard. By now, I had scraps on my arms and legs and even my face. From before at my house and now. My body was sore and I was so tired, but I couldn't let him win. I wasn't going to let him! And so, I kept trying and trying to get up, only to be knocked down again. Blood was trickling from my mouth now, whether it was from being hit in the stomach hard again or a busted lip, or both, I didn't know.

I just knew this guy couldn't win. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

"So, what are we looking for, Reid?" Morgan asked, in the living room as Reid checked out Alice's room.

"Anything. Anything we didn't see before or couldn't. Just anything." He called to Morgan.

Morgan sighed and headed towards the hall, passing a few other people who were here to dust down area's and check for prints. And then noticed something. One of the doors weren't busted in. it was completely intact. He realized why, thinking back on how they always found the victims. They were in a closet or something of the sort in their house, curled into the fetal position, as if they'd been scared and hiding before they died. "Reid, he's going to come back."

"What?" Reid came into the hall then and saw the door. He then just stared at it, frozen, as the images of the girls ran through his mind and then he imagined Alice, just like that. Then he shook his head and walked away, pulling out the picture quickly and watching it for a few seconds before putting it back.

"If we don't catch him before…" he cut off, not wanting to finish that. "Well, we can catch him when he returns. He's done it each time, though we've thought he could have been here, hurting them. But we found out the last victim was taken, and then brought back."

"It's sad…" Reid said quietly and to no one in particular.

"What?"

"It always takes a little over a week after they've been dumped in their homes, for anyone to find them… They're always so alone…"

"And that's why he targets them. He can have privacy while he does what he does." Morgan said. He then thought of something. "Reid, do we need to call this Alice girls parents? They don't know yet, do they?"

"It's a waste of time, Derek." Reid said immediately.

"They need to at least know, Reid, no matter what happened in the past."

Reid just stayed quiet. He didn't want to open that can of worms. He didn't hate them anywhere near as much as Alice, but he did hate them and he knew how they used to feel about him and his mother.

"Did you daughter have do any…drugs?" Rossi asked hesitantly. "Or drink or smoke? If so, please we need to know. And when it started."

The parents seemed surprised at the question. "Why do you need to know if Gorgia did any of that?"

"Because, we think that the other girls did the same and we think that may have been a reason behind the killers choice in victims." Rossi told them.

The father nodded. "She did…begin to smoke. She tried to keep it secret, but we know that smell and it would be all over her room, though she'd try and cover it was perfume. We caught her once, before…" he close his eyes and cleared his throat. "We had had a fight about it before she went missing…"

"Is it our fault…?" the mother asked, not looking up.

"Is what your fault?" Rossi asked, surprised.

"Is it our fault our baby's dead?"

Prentiss sighed. "We've seen this plenty of times in other cases. But, ma'am, just because you had a fight before that happened, it is not your fault. We think that's something he actually waits for." Ms. Temple was crying now. "Ma'am, you need to know this. This is in no way your fault. If you want to blame anyone, blame this man who's killing these women. But do not blame yourselves. Ok?"

They were quiet. Mr. Temple nodded, but Ms. Temple kept crying. She didn't believe that.

"We need to ask some more questions, but we can wait if you're not ready yet."

They nodded and took their time. They weren't ready yet, but they knew they had to do this.

"Baby-girl, anything new on the blood we found on the branch outside?" Morgan asked into the phone, talking to Garcia as Reid continued to search, now in the living room. And, of course he didn't have it on speaker….just in case…

"They're still not sure yet, my chocolate thundercat. They say it's a mix of two different people, but mostly Alice. Her blood seems too mixed in with the unsubs. How's Reid?" she said from the other end.

"Still searching frantically."

"Have you guys found anything new yet?"

"No. Well, the unsub did leave one of the doors in the house intact, but that's not surprising, because that's where we find them when-"

"Ok, I got, don't explain anymore." She said hurriedly, not wanting to hear. "So, what happened to the phone?"

"He crushed it. We found it in the backyard."

"Oh." Morgan guessed she had wished there could be something she do other than sit around, waiting.

"Ok, well, I gotta go baby-girl. I'll call you if we find anything."

"Alright, my sweet. I shall miss your succulent voice."

"Yours, too." He told her with a smile and heard her laugh before hanging up.

"Her what?" Reid asked, stopped by Morgan, holding a paper.

"Nothing. What's that?"

"I think she saw his vehicle." He showed him Alice's quick, messy handwriting. "She's talking about a red truck, but I'm not sure what make. She says it's like the one from twilight, but I haven't read that. What's the make?"

"Dang, man, even I know that! Though it's only because Garcia forced me to watch it one night." He thought for a moment, then said, "It's a…"

"You can't remember?"

"Yes, I just don't remember as fast as you, genius!" he thought for a second. "It's a 1953 Chevrolet Pickup Truck. We got his car. I'm calling Garcia."

Finally, he was gone. I lay in the hay stack, my scratches having bled out already. It was only a little blood, thankfully, but everything still hurt like hell. He had had his fun and said he'd be back tomorrow. He left me food, but I only drank the water. I didn't want to give in to the tiny bit of help he'd give me, but laying here week and hungry and/or thirsty won't help much with my strength.

It was quiet again. I was staying still, unable to move without my whole body jumping with pain and sores. I just kept watching the chained door of this barn. I thought of trying to get through it, but I couldn't right now and I didn't know if he'd come back soon…I needed to try and wait…see if he had a pattern and be patient.

I shut my eyes then, having my plan. I'd fought so much, I needed to rest now. And if he'd come back, I'm sure he'd want me awake….he seemed to like it when I struggled….

I wonder what'd happen to me if I died. At first, I wondered what the hell my parents would say. It's sad, but I really haven't had contact with them either, since I moved away. Not like I had any reason to call. Who knows, maybe they would be happy…

I thought of my only neighbors. They'd probably be surprised and sorry, but I don't really think they'd care that much.

I thought of the few people I knew at work. Maybe they'd be sad, maybe miss me a little, but I doubt it would have that much of an impact.

And then, there was Reid…god, what would it do to him? I know that if I found him died, after all these years, I think it might tear me apart. Though, I've always cared about him…I hoped for his sake…he didn't care about me as much….i couldn't take it if he was hurt in anyway, especially because of me.

God, I was fighting with myself now. At the thought of him finding me dead, I felt so bad and guilty. But, at the thought of dying before I saw him again, my chest…hurt…

And then my slowly becoming unconscious mind thought back to the one night I had went too far after drinking. It wasn't like my dreams because in my dreams, it's like I'm back in that place. Now, I was back in that place, yet totally aware that I wasn't actually there…. And I had different feelings now…

I had just gotten back from another day, having fought with my parents and even another physical fight, though it didn't go any further than before.

I was drunk off my ass, wobbling my way down the street towards home, though I thought of just sleeping on the grass beside the house.

That's when I saw Reid sitting on his porch and he seemed to have been waiting. "Hey, Spock!" I called, sounding so stupid but not caring.

"Alice?" he said and I could tell he sounded worried. "Are you ok?"

"Huh? Yeah! Of course I'm ok! Why wouldn't I be, I drank about three bottles!" I giggled as I wobbled up to his house and then tripped, falling face first to the ground.

"Alice!" he called and the he was right there beside me, helping me into a sitting position, at least.

"Woah…" I said, looking at the ground in surprise. "how did the ground get there? Huh, Spock?"

"Gravity." He said and he sounded irritated and worried. "Alice, why do you always do this?"

"What, fall? I thought you said it was 'cause of gravity…."

"Are you feeling sick?" he always did his. Asked if I felt sick or needed to throw up, but I didn't right now.

"No, I feel fine…"I said calmly with what I knew had to be the most retarded smile. "Are you feeling sick?" I put my hand on his forehead, then his cheek. "You feel ok to me. And you cheeks feel soft." I laughed, rubbing his cheek before he stopped me.

"Alice, I think you need to lie down somewhere."

"Ok!" I said and fell back into the grass. "This feels nice and cool."

"Alice, I mean somewhere inside. Do you need me to help you to your couch?"

"No! I don't want to go inside! Come on, lay down!" I said and yanked him down beside me. "Doesn't it feel nice?"

He sighed. "Yeah, it feels nice."

"You know, you are the coolest, funniest and smartest persons I ever met, you know that? I need you to know that, you know that?" I asked rolling over to where I could see him as he watched the stars, then me.

"Yes."

"And I don't want us ever to not be friends. Because we're like…like Spock and Kerk. We're best buds." And there went another goofy smile. Then I rolled over and tried to act all serious when I said, "I have been and always will be….your friend…. You know?"

"Yeah, I know."

And then I fell on him, hugging him. "Dude, I love you. You're my best friend. I love you so much!"

"I…love you too, Alice…"

I looked at him and his face was red. I felt his face and said, "You feeling sick? You're face is all hot."

"Alice, you really need to rest." He was so uncomfortable and (viewing the memory as if it were a movie) I felt bad for making him so uncomfortable, yet not…

"You know, you're really pretty. Very pretty, have I ever told you that?"

"Alice, come on." He sat up then and I sat up to, my hand still on his cheek.

I was so drunk now that I didn't stop myself from doing this.

"You're so beautiful, Spencer…I love you…" and then I leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth, not moving away until he pushed me free of his lips. He was so red in the face and he jumped up.

"You really need to sleep. Come on."

And after that, he took me back home and to my couch and left me to sleep. I only barely remember it, thinking it was dream once I woke again, feeling sick. When I went to talk to him, I saw he looked red in the face and uncomfortable right when he saw me, though he tried to hide it and say hey, as if it hadn't happened. I tried to uncomfortably say sorry, that I was so drunk last night and he said it was ok, he knows that and he said to just forget about it.

We told ourselves that was just a drunken, crazed impulse. But I know now that (though I never thought it possible then) that was something that, deep down, I'd always wanted to do. I meant what I said then. I meant it totally and completely….that he was so beautiful and that I loved him.

And I probably wouldn't be able to tell him that....

No, I didn't need to think like that. I can't give up. He's not going to kill me, not just yet! He can't! I WILL see my friend again, if it's the last thing I do!