Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and I apologize for the late update. Midterms and assignments are going to kill me soon, but luckily I managed to get this done in 2 hours! Yay! So enjoy and please do review, just to let me know if there are things that should be changed, or things that you liked.

It was supposed to be just a visit to Keith Barnes to bring him in for questioning. Morgan and Reid reached the flat where Barnes had rented a room with a friend, and Morgan rapped on the door, hand on his holster just to be safe. "Keith Barnes, this is the FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions." Silence. The two agents eyed each other wearily and Reid moved to cover Morgan's back, gun securely held in his hands. Morgan shouted out again, banging his fists louder against the wooden door. "Keith Barnes, I repeat: This is the FBI! Are you in there? Keith Barnes!"

Morgan slid his gun out and motioned to Reid before yelling out a final warning. "Keith Barnes, this is your final warning! Answer the door or we're going in!" Still, no one appeared at the door and Morgan didn't hesitate this time to kick the door down. "FBI, freeze!"

The entire place was in disarray. Clothes were strewn all over the floor and leftovers of food were scattered around the kitchen table. The TV was on, switched to the news channel. Reid slipped a door possibly leading to a bathroom open, and checked the room, "Clear!"

Morgan moved on to the only room left and slammed the door open, yet still nothing, or no one greeted them. Morgan lowered his gun and looked over Barnes' bedroom. As was the entire flat, the bedroom was equally messy. The bed was unmade and papers were spread across the study desk, with angry red letters circling what seemed to be countless wrong answers. He opened the wardrobe and had to leap back to avoid the stampede of clothes tumbling out from where they were hastily stuffed.

Reid poked his head back in, "There's nothing here Derek; the house is clean." Morgan snorted, "I wouldn't call this place clean. It's like a pigsty in here." He turned towards the young genius, "Any luck finding where he might have gone?" Reid shook his head and leaned against the doorway, hands snug in his pockets. "None, but you know what's strange? I haven't seen a single computer here; not even a tablet or laptop." Morgan shrugged, "Could be a coincidence, or he could be hiding something on the computer. I better call Hotch, tell him Barnes is a no go."

But before he could dial the unit chief's number, an indignant yell sounded from the door. "Dude, what the hell?" Reid cocked an eyebrow at Morgan, "You don't think…?" Morgan smirked and headed out, drawing his gun out again. "Only one way to find out."

A scrawny, gangly boy with a mess of red hair framing a pale face stood at the ruined doorway, mouth gaping open as he took in the broken door and the federal agents coming towards him with their guns trained on him. He raised his arms immediately, pupils dilated wide in fear as his breathing turned heavy. "Dude, don't shoot!"

Morgan stopped advancing but kept his gun on the boy. "Keith Barnes?" Barnes nodded fervently, "Yes, yes! Who the hell are you? Dude, put the gun down!" Reid, taking some pity on the bewildered boy, lowered his gun and stepped forward. "Keith Barnes, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid and this is SSA Derek Morgan. We're with the FBI. Now I need you to calm down; no one is going to shoot you, ok?"

Barnes' eyes flashed wide open at the mention of the FBI. "Woah, the FBI? Did I do something wrong?"

Morgan, eyes narrowed at the seemingly harmless boy, holstered his weapon and straightened his figure. "Maybe you could tell us that, Keith."

Reid smiled comfortingly at the boy, "We need to bring you in to State PD for questioning Keith, and we'd really appreciate if you could come in and help us out." Keith frowned, "What is it that I'm supposed to be involved with?" Morgan crossed his arms and stared at him, intentionally unnerving the boy, "Three days ago Patricia Morton was abducted from Wilson High School during an after-party and you, Hank Howards and Sam Carlton were last seen with her. You're one of our primary suspects Keith, and we need to bring you in for questioning."

Keith shook his head, fear palpable in his eyes. "Look man, I don't have anything to do with that girl's disappearance; I swear!" Reid raised a hand, trying to calm the clearly high boy, "Keith, we're not saying you did anything. We just need to make sure we find the man who took Patricia, and we need your help."

The boy looked desperately between the empathic Reid and intimidating Morgan, "It's not like I have a choice do I?" He pointed accusingly at Morgan, "He'd probably shoot me anyway if I said no!" Morgan rolled his eyes, "Kid, no one's going to shoot anyone. We just need you to cooperate with us."

Keith bit his lip and sighed, "Fine, I'll go with you." Reid smiled encouragingly at him, "Thanks Keith. There's something else; do you have a computer?" Keith raised a brow, "Yeah, I have a laptop for school; why?" The boyish agent slowly moved closer towards him, not wanting to spook the boy just when he calmed down. "We need to take a look at it, if that's all right with you?"

The boy looked annoyed, clearly reluctant to part with his computer. "Isn't that like, an invasion of privacy?" Morgan sighed, frustrated at just how much it was like talking to a three year old who wouldn't give up his favourite toy. "Keith, we really need to see your laptop man. Now you can give us the laptop voluntarily, or we'll get a warrant for it and it'll be on your permanent record for an obstruction of justice. Now I'm thinking with a juvie record as long as yours, you don't want the extra baggage, do you?"

Keith groaned and dumped his backpack onto the ground, pulling the zipper open. "I hate cops. Here," He fished out a slim laptop that clearly cost a fortune, "Don't mess with it ok? I just bought it."

Morgan took the laptop from his, intrigued as to how the boy got the money to buy such expensive equipment when he clearly was tight on money, what with the run-down place he managed to rent. "Great man, thanks. Let's go, come on."

Emily and Dave, in the meantime, had headed over back to Wilson High, where Hank Howards' aunt had said he'd be there for practice at 3. The janitor had directed them towards the boys' locker room, stating that practice hadn't started yet and the boys were just getting ready. The two agents went in and were bombarded with multiple "what the hell"s and "Dude get the fuck out!"s when they saw a woman in their changing rooms. Emily just rolled her eyes and she and Dave flashed their badges, "Don't worry, I've seen it all boys." Dave smirked and jerked his head towards the door, "Out, boys, now. Hank Howards, we'd like a word with you please."

A tall, well-built young man with dark brown hair and light blue eyes Gillian Miles had described stood from where he was pulling on his shoes. "Yeah, that's me. Is there anything I can help you with?" Emily noted his politeness and the open smile he currently sported; he definitely wouldn't have any trouble getting the girls. Dave nodded, "Yeah, I'm SSA Dave Rossi and this is SSA Emily Prentiss with the FBI. We're currently investigating a murder case and we have a few questions we'd like to ask you."

Hank nodded, "Sure, just let me get the guys to cover for me with the coach." He strode to the door and called for someone outside. "Hey Jude! Tell Coach the feds want to see me; I'll be there as soon as I can." Jude yelled an affirmative and Hank returned his attention back to the agents, sitting back down on the bench. "So how can I help the FBI?"

Emily leaned against one of the lockers, "Three days ago, you were the last person seen leaving with Patricia Morton, along with Sam Carlton and Keith Barnes. Do you know all three people?" He nodded and tied off the knot on his shoe laces, "Yeah, Sam and I are on the football team, but I assume you already know that. I met Keith when he was still on the football team but after he was kicked out I sort of took him under my wing. It was either that or leave him to the school bullies."

Dave took in the seemingly friendly boy, "What about Patricia Morton? Do you know her?" Hank's face scrunched up as he thought, "Not really. We met her at the after party here at Wilson but that was it. I didn't know her from before, if that's what you mean." The veteran profiler tilted his head a little, "But you did leave the party with her and your buddies, yes?"

Hank shrugged, "Yeah, we went out to the little spot in the forest. You know, the one couples usually go out to? We had a little fun, but that was it. Sam left first, and Keith and I left after that. I think it was close to 12 then." Emily wrote down the details, lifting her head to scrutinize the boy. "Can anyone verify that you were around at that time?" She was surprised to see a bitter smile twist his lips, "Yeah, my sister. But she won't be able to tell you anything 'cause she was half asleep by the time I got her into bed." She leaned forward, interested in his choice of words. "How old is your sister, Hank?" His mouth tightened and she saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. "14, but she has Down syndrome so I have to take care of her. That's why I left; I got a call from my aunt saying she wouldn't go to bed because I wasn't around."

Emily smiled a little at him, "I imagine your sister was extremely happy to see you back." Hank gave her a lopsided smile, "Yeah, you know someone with Down syndrome, Agent?" She nodded, "My cousin. She's 6 now." He sighed, "So you understand how hard I've got to work to take care of her and work and go to classes." Dave interrupted, "You have a part-time job?"

Hank nodded and scratched his chin, "Yeah, at the mechanic shop just next to Wilson High. I go there every day after school just before practice." "Huh," Dave sat down, wincing a little at the soreness of his leg. By God, he was getting older. "Can you tell us why you were seen with at least another victim, Hank? Angelina Gothman was again, seen leaving with you, Sam and Keith."

Hank raised his hands in surrender, "Hey, this is high school man. We blow off steam by fooling around with the girls, but I never touched them." Emily frowned, "But it's not a coincidence when Wilson High has sports matches with the victims' schools and they end up abducted and murdered." "Dunbar High, Archbishop Carroll High, Emerson Preparatory," Dave read out from the list, "Do I need to read out more, Hank? All victims were last seen at this after party with students from your school; specifically the football team. Now tell me it isn't a coincidence that your football team, and in turn, you were present at every abduction site?"

Hank gritted his teeth, "Look, agents, you can check with my aunt. She saw me come home by 12 and go straight up to my sister's room. As for the other girls, I honestly don't know what to tell you. Yes, I was there for the matches and the after-parties, but I didn't touch those girls. We partied, we made out; that was it. I never saw them again afterwards." He stood and grabbed his helmet, "Now if there aren't any more questions, I'm already late for practice. This," he scribbled something down on a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Emily, "is my mobile, where you can reach me." He looked at the agents exasperatedly, "Can I go now?"

Dave stepped out his way, "Be my guest." After the door closed, Emily turned towards him, "He does fit the profile Dave." He nodded and stretched a little, grimacing at the noise his bones made as they popped, "Yeah well, he might, but taking care of his disabled sister and having a job would make it near impossible wouldn't it?" She sighed, "We need more evidence. I'm going to call Hotch and tell him what we got. Oh and Dave? You're getting old, grandpa." She smirked as she dialled her love's number and Dave glared at her. "Oh ha ha Emily, wait till you're my age."