My handy, dandy, trusty old laptop won't open FF up for me, and I had to use a school computer to put this chapter up. And as soon as it's up, I have to go. So I'm quite literally posting this, and then getting ready to see Deathly Hallows Part 1! Thanks for waiting, everyone!

Here's Chapter 3... In which the team figures out what's gone down... :D

Again, I own nothing!

...

The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin

It was cool again. But he was lying on fabric, not bare wood. A cool cloth was placed on the cut on his chest and he gasped, shivering. It was then that he realized that he was shirtless.

"Just relax," a voice whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Who are you?" he asked.

The voice shushed him gently. "Don't worry, you'll be fine; I'm here to help. Just rest."

::::

"Wasn't Reid supposed to be back by now?" Prentiss asked.

Morgan glanced up at the clock in the Orlando Police Department conference room that was the team's current gathering place for the duration of this case.

"Maybe the interview took longer than we thought," Morgan calmly stated. "I mean, our last victim, Nathan Smalls, was on vacation with his family; he was the Best Man at his older brother's wedding. Reid probably has questions for a majority of the family."

"Morgan, most of Small's family's gone back to Montana by now; it was just a few members of the wedding party who planned to vacation here for a few days who were left when we came in."

"Well… Maybe they have a lot to say," Morgan replied lamely. Emily rolled her eyes.

"Look, Hotch is on his way back from the marina, and Rossi should be back soon from the morgue; I'll call Garcia and see if she can track Reid's phone. You can call him right now yourself if it makes you feel better."

Morgan chuckled slightly as he got out his phone. "Knowing the kid, he probably stopped somewhere to get coffee."

"Can't say I blame him," Prentiss added, taking a drink of the cop station coffee and wincing. "This stuff tastes worse than the past due milk I bought last week."

"How did that happen?" Rossi asked as he came into the room.

Emily set her mug down, frowning. "The store manager wasn't cheap or anything; the stock guys just forgot to take off the bad cartons."

Morgan grinned as he placed his cell phone to his ear. A moment later, his smile lost a bit of it's vibrancy as he listened to a voice message.

This is Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. I'm sorry I missed your call. Please leave your name, number and a brief message, and I'll get back to you soon. Thank you.

What followed was an automated message, and the beep of the recorder starting. Morgan left a message.

"Reid?" Morgan asked. "Is everything alright? Call me when you get this."

Morgan hung up as Hotch walked in. "Where's Reid?" he asked. "He called me earlier this afternoon saying that he was on his way here."

"No idea," Prentiss replied, starting to dial her own phone. "I was about to call Garcia and have her trace his phone."

"Good, get on that." Hotch replied, already walking toward the board, taking out his own phone to punch in Reid's number. It rang four times before the message replayed itself.

This is Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. I'm sorry I missed your call. Please leave your name….

Hotch hung up; he wasn't going to leave a message if Morgan already had.

"Hey, Hotch," Rossi said suddenly. "I just thought of something. Reid fits the victimology of the other victims almost perfectly. He's young, late twenties, but looks much younger. He's thin, quiet, and shy, but when confronted by someone, he can easily talk back to them. Just like the other victims."

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked.

"When Garcia goes to trace Reid's phone, have her trace the SUV he took," Rossi replied, turning to Prentiss as he spoke. "All the victims' personal effects were found in their rental cars, or on the monorail. Phones, wallets, clothes… everything."

Hotch looked at the older man in surprise. "Why didn't we think of this sooner, Dave? We could've taken him out of the field, told him to stay here at the station, that if he was going somewhere, he should take one of us."

"He would've thrown a fit, Hotch!" Morgan cried, standing up. "He doesn't like being babied! You of all people should know that!"

"Morgan's right," Rossi added. "Reid likes being independent; he's been taking care of himself and his mother from a very young age. He wouldn't want us looking over his shoulder for him."

"Well what do you think he would've said six hours ago if he'd known this would happen?" Hotch cried, exasperated.

Silence reigned in the conference room for a moment before a perky voice spoke up.

"Hello, my pretties!" Garcia crowed. "What can I do ya for?"

"Garcia, we need you to trace Reid's phone, and the SUV he took."

There was silence for a moment before she answered. "Both the phone and the car register somewhere in the Walt Disney World Park… They're right on top of each other."

"We have to go!' Hotch growled. "Garcia!"

"Yes, sir!"

"We're going to need you to come down here and make a statement. If Reid's been taken by the UnSub, we're going to need more manpower here than we have now."

"Yessir! I'm a coming! I'm a coming!" And with that, she hung up.

Twenty five minutes later, the team had pulled up in front of the Contemporary Resort with the Orlando PD, who was cordoning off an area of sidewalk.

One of the officers pulled Hotch to the side, whispering something in his ear as Rossi, Prentiss and Morgan headed for the black SUV near the front of the parking lot.

Grimly, Morgan scrolled through his contacts until he found, and hit Reid's number. Prentiss approached the vehicle, starting slightly as a cheery tune blasted from inside. Tentitavly, she reached through the open window, and unlocked the car.

Inside, Reid's shirt, tie, pants, shoes and socks were thrown haphazardly around in the vehicle. On top of the shirt were his badge, wallet and gun. Prentiss turned away, looking slightly ill.

Morgan closed his phone, cursing softly, and Rossi slowly lowered his gun. "Damn," he muttered grimly.

Hotch ran over, staring at the scene with tired eyes. "Crime scene units are taking blood samples," he whispered. "There's no doubt that it's Reid's blood, but they want to make sure."

Morgan clenched his fists, shaking slightly. "I wanna catch this son of a bitch," he hissed. "And I want it done now!"

….

We are all of us failures, at least, the best of us are. ~James M. Barrie

….

A/N: ...Should I continue? Morgan seems like he wants to rip someone's head off, and I kinda wanna give him that chance...

And thanks to all my awesome chapter 2 reviews! ... lolyncut, Noel Ardnek, RavenParadox, danicalif, SayidRocks, RIPCURL. aus, 68luvcarter, SSAFunbar, and zannabanana! You guys rock! :D

Hope you all come back and review! ...Please?

Good-night!

*~N_CBAU~*