It's not often that the team finds themselves feeling in over their heads. Stressed, yes, but that comes with the job with just about every case they take on. But these particular ones, the cases that hit far too close to home, prove more difficult to keep reason in mind especially when vengeance is right on its heels.

As it is with every case time was working against them. Before the video ended their masked unsub got off Reid, who had been beaten into unconsciousness, and went right up to the camera. He grinned, at his audience, his eyes gleaming with malice. Then he delivered a message directed to Rossi.

"I'll give you twenty four hours- starting at five this evening- to find us. One second after, he's dead. Don't doubt me, David. As you can see I have no issues with bashing that pretty face in. Twenty four hours, and you lose."

That was the end of it. There were no more information on Reid and his condition. The last visual the team had of him was Reid lying on the bed, his arms still bound behind in his back and blood smeared across his fast, most of it coming from the broken nose.

Broken, but alive. Broken can be fixed. They could still get Reid back and repair all of the damage that had been inflicted upon him. Rossi would see to it. He would make sure that Reid would get the best medical help- for both his physical and mental health- even if it is rejected. He would protect the young agent to make sure that no evil would come so close to him again. If someone must die in the next twenty four hours, Rossi will make sure that it will be the twisted masked man.

Hotch only allowed a few seconds to go by after the ending of the video before diving back into the case.

"What do we know from the video?" he asks.

"Well, the guy clearly has something against Rossi," Emily says. "So he's the main target. Reid is only a pawn to his ultimate goal."

"But why Reid?"

"It could be that he was the easiest target."

"By the way he was talking it sounded like he had met both of them before," Derek adds. "Like he had seen them interacting. It was most likely a lecture or even a case if he has been following close enough."

"Dave, did you recognize the voice at all?" Hotch asks.

Rossi shakes his head. He did not. For the life of him he could not place a name or even a face to that voice. He has heard many different voices; it's impossible to remember all of them.

"Did anything about him seem familiar?"

"No. It was hard to tell. I-," Rossi trails off. He is better than this. He has been doing this for years, longer than Reid has been alive. He should be able to get more out of this.

"What about the last lecture you went to?" Hotch asks. On the surface his tone is calm, but there is an edge of urgency to it. Any time that they are not progress is time wasted. "Was there anyone there you noticed to be out of the ordinary?"

Rossi tries to bring himself back to that place. It wasn't long ago; maybe couple days or so. It was at a college a little under an hour away. He had spent the drive there trying to give Reid a pep talk that had ended up being a failure. Reid was not the best public speaker, a fact that he knew and got the better of his nerves. The lecture itself was uneventful. The crowd size was average and the topic was the usual. Rossi covered all the grounds, answered questions, and got a few laughs. Reid was the expected awkward mess, which annoyed Rossi at the time and smiled at later on that night. Afterwards Rossi answered more questions while Reid stood in the background.

Then Rossi remembered. The professor: he had talked to Reid afterwards. He even tried to beforehand, but Rossi rushed them along. There was something about him that Rossi didn't like, although he wasn't sure why at the time. Maybe this was it.

"The professor!" Rossi exclaims. "Lavine or Lastine or something like that. He kept trying to talk to Reid."

"About what?" JJ asks.

"I'm not sure. I only caught the end of their conversation. It was about something he was working on, I think. But I didn't like the guy. He was looking at Reid strangely."

"What do you mean by strange?" Derek asks.

Rossi pauses for a moment so he can find the best words. "You know how when you go to a bar and you see the lonely old guy well past his prime watching some kid? It was like that. He looked like he was more interested in Reid for reasons other than what he had to say."

"But would that be enough to make Reid a target?" Hotch asks.

"He did rape him."

" Rape is most often about power," Hotch cuts in. "And in this case it seems the power is over both you and Reid."

Rossi scowls. "I know. But I'm telling you the guy was weird. It's a start."

Hotch nods. "Give Garcia all of the details you can remember so she can try to dig up something we can use. J.J. will come with back to Reid's apartment for another look through. Emily and Morgan, I want you to go to the college and see if you can talk to the professor."

"Where am I supposed to go?" Rossi says. "You can't expect me to stay here."

"Dave," Hotch says, "You know we can't risk having you with us. Not when it's this personal."

"And it's not personal for you guys? I'm the one he wants to talk to. Let-."

"That is why we can't have you with us. We need you to stay here and help Garcia and to wait for him to call again."

"But don't you think he's watching?" Rossi asks. "He wants me to find Reid. Me! I'm the reason he has Reid and I'll be damned if I'm not the person to stop it!"

Hotch waits for the moment to cool. "Talk to Garcia first," he says. "Then you can meet us at the apartment."

"I can go with Emily and Derek. I already know Lastine. I can-."

"I don't think you're in the best mind to handle that. I believe you know that too."

Rossi grinds his teeth. He knows that he's been defeated, but Hotch is right. He can't start losing his game now; not when time is running out. "Fine," he says with a sigh. "But don't think I'm backing down from this."

Before Hotch can reply the door opens. In walks Strauss, her face grim and set in determination.

"Or not," Emily says quietly.

It's starting to get late now, and with every tick of the clock I become even more bored. I am not the best when I am bored, not to the people around me. By half past six that evening I still did not have any visitors. Disappointing. I busied myself in the kitchen in the kitchen, preparing dinner, while I still had the time slot open. To be honest I am not much of a cook. My meals usually consist of something that can be popped into the microwave and are ready to go within a five minute time slot. Tonight's selection is some type of soggy noodles covered in white sauce. Good enough.

As I watch the green numbers countdown on the microwave I remember the doctor. The last time I checked in on him was an hour ago. He was still passed out then, or at least pretending to be. It has already been nearly a day since I first took him into captivity and now we have less than twenty four hours together. There was something about the idea of it that made me feel a bit sad. But, I remind myself as the timer of microwave begins to beep, there is still plenty of time to have some more fun. A lot can happen in a day.

I take my flimsy plastic dish into the bedroom where I am keeping the doctor. He is awake now, once again watching me. I roll my eyes. "Good evening, Doctor," I say as I walk towards my easy chair. I sit down and poke at the limp noodles with my fork. "You were asleep for quite awhile. I wasn't sure if you were ever going to wake up or not. That would have been a shame. I can't have you dead just yet! Are you hungry?"

I watch for his reaction. I get nothing. Not even a blink. I shrug. "Suit yourself. So, it looks like your friends won't be showing up any time soon. I suppose they could already be in another state by now, working on another case. That would be unfortunate. They must be doing fine without you, which isn't all that surprising. Don't get me wrong, kiddo, you're smart but you're just a disaster to take anywhere. Well, at least that's what I've gathered from all lectures I've seen." I take a bite of noodles. It's as tasteless as it looks.

"You know," I say thoughtfully, "they tote you around like some bizarre commodity. Like some exotic freak they used to show around in those old sideshows, you know, before those became politically incorrect. The human computer; watch it solve problems at amazing speeds, but break down when it comes to natural human interaction! I'm sure they get a kick out of it. I know I do. But look on the bright side! You have some type of purpose, even if it's being the team's freak!"

Emotion stirs in the doctor's eyes, but he gives away nothing direct. This would be much more enjoyable if he could talk back, I say to myself. Perhaps it's safe enough to remove the tape, at least for a little while. If anything I can just punch his face again if I need to shut him up.

"I'll tell you what. If you promise to be a good boy and stay quiet I'll take that nasty tape away. How does that sound?"

He blinks. Good enough.

I return to the kitchen to find a pair of scissors. Cutting it off will be the best option. The doctor flinches when the blades come close to his face. "Don't worry," I comfort him. "I'm only trying to help you."

It took some effort, but I managed to cut through the multiple layers of tape without cutting the doctor's skin. Peeling the rest off, however, proves to be the more difficult part. I yank hard so it will take less movement. He whimpers in pain, and almost begins crying as it rips out some hair on the back of his head. Baby. I make sure to knock into his nose as I made it to the end.

"There!" I say with a triumphant smile. "That feels better, doesn't it? Right?"

The doctor stares at me, unsure if he is supposed to answer. I widen my smile to encourage him. Yes, you may speak.

"C-Could you possib-bly cut these ties?" he asks, referring to the zip ties that bind his wrists. "I can't feel my arms."

"Only if you want me to break them."

He looks hopeless, and it makes me happy. "I can get you water," I offer. "If you're thirsty."

"How will I be able to drink it without hands?"

I force a smile. "You're smart. I'm sure you can figure it out. If anything, I'll help you." I rise to my feet and walks towards the kitchen. "I trust that you are not foolish enough to yell for help. I'll just drown you before any arrives."

Once I return with a glass in hand, I set it on the floor next to the mattress. The doctor looks at me, confused. I smile again and reach towards him. He flinches, but I tell him I mean no harm. Slowly, I help lean him up to a sitting position. I can see him gritting his teeth, trying to fight back the pain. He shakes his head slightly to fight off a sudden spell of dizziness. I reach for the glass again and hold it up to his lips. He hesitates a moment, but decides it is safe, which it is. Poison is not my favorite choice of death.

The doctor thanks me for the water, though it was clear he is not pleased with me. I smile politely and ask if he would like more. He shakes his head. No, he would not.

"So," I say as I move myself into a more comfortable position. "Tell me, doctor, how are you feeling?"

"Fine."

I chuckle. "Yes. You sure do look like you're feeling fine. Maybe you're a little tougher than I thought, kiddo."

"Are they okay?"

"Of course they are! Maybe worried, but maybe not. But if you're asking if I hurt any of them, then no. I wouldn't want to interfere with the game. I want to keep this as fair is as possible. Fair is fun after all."

The doctor pauses. "Earlier you were only talking to Dave," he says. "Not the rest of the team."

"Wow. What an outstanding observation, doctor. It's no wonder the FBI hired you."

"Why?"

I sigh. "Let's just say that there is a little bit of bad blood between David and I. I have some questions I would like to ask, but he refused to answer them. He won't even take the time to listen! I know it can be hard to hear the world below the giant throne he has set himself upon, but he is going to miss a lot if he doesn't start paying better attention."

"And you want this attention."

A statement, not a question. I frown. "Of course I do! That's what I just said! That is what this is all about! Why else do you think you're here?"

"I-I could help you," the doctor stutters out. "With your questions. I can at least try to answer them. I know I don't have as much experience as Dave, but-."

I interrupt him with a burst of laughter. "Sorry, kiddo, but no. Other than using you as bait, I have no real use for you. You're kind of like a new toy; all shiny and new and fun to play with, but easily disposable. I have no interest in what you have to say. It's part of the reason I taped your mouth up." I want for the doctor to reply, but he only looks at his tethered feet.

"Does it bother you when he calls you kid?" I ask. "I've heard it many times. How old are you?"

Again, no reply.

"Does it bother you that no matter how much older you get, no matter how many cases you solve he and probably the rest of the team will always think of you as the kid? That cute, awkward little kid that is always there for a good laugh? The child that keeps getting in the way? That's how they think of you, isn't it? Don't deny it. I've seen it."

"They don't."

I grin. "Now you're just fooling yourself, kid."

"They don't."

Defiance. Who the hell does he think he is?

"You know," I say slowly as I move up onto my feet. "Maybe we should have some more fun before your friends get here. Make you all pretty for them. That is if they get here in time. Tell me, since you think you know them so well, do you believe that they will find you in time to save your life? Do you believe they want to?"

"They will."

"Well, you better hope so." I bring back my right leg and send it straight into the doctor's ribs. He collapses back onto the mattress, wheezing in pain. I kick him again, harder this time. "Because if they haven't by this time tomorrow you're going to be fucking dead."

"I want you off this case," Strauss says. No greetings or warnings; just like that she has cut them down.

"No," Hotch says, scowling.

"No?" she echoes back. "Aaron, I'm sure you haven't forgotten who I am. You should be careful what you say. This case is far too personal for each and every one of you. I can't take the risk of something going wrong."

"If we don't do something now something bad is going to happen," Morgan says. "He's going to die if we don't find him."

"May I remind you that you are not the only capable team of profilers we have here."

"But we are the best," Hotch says. "We know what we're doing. We've worked under personal connections before and it has never once failed us from doing our job."

"That-."

"Erin," Hotch cuts in. "I'm sorry, but unless you have any additional information on what's going on then you're just wasting our time. As Morgan said, we need to act quickly or Reid is going to die. I'm sure you don't want to deal with the mess of a murdered federal agent."

"I don't want to see anyone dead," Strauss replies curtly. "I know it's hard for you to believe, but I want agent Reid returned safely too. But it's my job to make sure that protocols are being followed."

"They will be."

"And what do you plan on doing when you find Spencer? Do you think you'll be able to remain composure if you don't make it in time?"

The level of tension in the room reached a new level. As probable as it was, it was near insult to even consider Reid not being found alive. There was no other option.

Without looking back at his team, Hotch begins to walk towards the open door. "Let's go," he orders. "Time is running out." He does not make eye contact with Strauss as he quickly brushes past her. It would be too risky considering the thoughts currently going through his mind. They are going to find Reid, and they are going to bring him back alive.

And now we come to another stopping point! I won't ramble about boring things, like what may happen in the next chapters, so I'll leave it at this. Thank you to everyone who continues to read and review!