Okay, this is going to sound totally random, and rather rant-y, and you can skip it if you want to, but I'm very angry at Twitter right now. One of their trending topics over the past couple days bugged me, especially when it turned out to be false... Everyone's intitled to their own opinions on actors, writers, singers and other pop icons, and I understand that. Just don't say that someone is dead when they aren't. Especially if its an important and influential player in modern-day history. It scares a lot of people, and makes other people angry when it turns out to be a false alarm.

Okay, rant over.

I dunno if I'll update again before "Corazon" airs; I'm going home today for a dentist appointment tomorrow (My wisdom teeth are starting to come in, and I really don't like how they feel. Fun times). But I will have most of this story written by the end of the month, and it'll probably be completly uploaded by mid-Febuary at the earliest.

I don't own Criminal Minds. But Reid is a bada** when he goes all "I'm making an inference" on Dr. Malcom. Go Reid! :D

….

The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin

Rossi, Hotch, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and Garcia were gathered in the small conference room that was home base for the case, looking at the pictures and video that Linda Holden had dropped off at the police station. She, along with her husband Connor, were sitting out in the bullpen, nursing a cup of coffee each, and looking careworn.

"What a way to spend your honeymoon," Prentiss whispered. "Three weeks in Miami, a romantic boat trip from Texas and back… And before it even begins you get swept up in a Federal investigation." She and JJ were flipping through the pictures Linda had taken, in awe of the craftsmanship and authenticity of the ship, but shuddering at the thought of what was happening to their friend on it. They paused to look out at them; he was rubbing soothing circles on her back while she tried to make herself as small as possible.

Rossi walked past them, a laptop in his hands, also looking out at the couple. "This is going to change their relationship forever." Rossi admitted. "My guess is that it'll be stronger… but who knows."

"Do you have that video, Dave?" Hotch asked. Rossi held up the computer before getting to work setting it up on the table.

Garcia had also set up her laptop, commandeering a corner of the table for the machine and some fluffy pens, toys and photos; Morgan felt a twinge of sickness when he spotted a picture of Reid, Prentiss, Garcia and himself, all bunched up in Garcia's office; the photo had been taken by Kevin Lynch's friend from the White Collar Unit, Niko Zissou while he had been running errands for Garcia before a recent case. Garcia and Reid had been sitting in the two swivel chairs, with Morgan and Prentiss behind their chairs. Garcia had grabbed Morgan's shirt and was kissing him on the cheek; he had a huge smile on his face. Prentiss was resting her chin on Reid's shoulder, both her hands on his favorite purple scarf. Reid had a small, shy smile on his face and was waving at the camera.

JJ excused herself from the room; she was not on the case, and had no business being there, despite the words of her former teammates. Prentiss shut the blinds as Garcia played the footage.

The dark form of the ship was clearly visible in the moonlight; one could see the figures on the deck as they moved about the ship as the lens zoomed in. They seemed to be crowding around one or two figures in particular. Suddenly there was a faint stab of light as a second figure was led out onto the deck. Moments later, the sounds of screaming began. "We should do something!" Linda's voice whispered over the speakers. "Whoever he is, he's in pain." Of course, there was nothing to be done; Linda and Connor had no weapons, no protection, and no proof. The screaming continued… But it almost seemed like someone was… yelling… a challenge of some sort. The screaming stopped, then the sounds of a crowd of men roaring. The sounds of the boat motor starting were picked up. "We'll tell the cops, the FBI and the Coast Guard," said Connor's voice. The ship became smaller and smaller as the camera pulled away. "Please, God," Linda's voice whispered. "Help him. Bring that poor agent home, and anyone suffering with him alive and well, whoever they are."

The video cut off a second later. Garcia rubbed her eyes, trying to keep tears from falling down her cheeks. No one spoke for a moment.

"I-I started running boating licenses," Garcia whispered, her voice shaking. "To see if there's anyone in the Orlando area who may own a 16th century-era wooden pirate ship. Also, I'm going to call the Coast Guard to see if they're aware of this."

"Garcia," Rossi gently urged. "I was also wondering if… maybe… you could enhance the audio in the video. Especially the background; I think someone was trying to say something on that pirate ship."

Garcia nodded and began typing hurriedly. Hotch and Rossi exchanged glances when a vocal program began running the audio through a filter in less than a minute, turning back to her when she suddenly stopped typing.

"I got something!"

There was rustling mixed with some garbled noises; the sounds of the waves and the wind mixed with the voices of the witnesses. Hotch opened his mouth to speak, but Garcia held up a finger to silence him.

"Wait for it…"

And suddenly there was a voice.

"NO! Uncle James, don't do it! Please!"

"That's not Reid's voice," Rossi noted grimly as the yelling continued.

"Shhh!" Garcia hissed, fingers poised over the keyboard as she listened.

"Uncle James! What's he done to you?"

Garcia had tears streaming down her cheeks. "What if they killed him?" she gasped, breaking her own rule of silence. "What if we're too late? I can't think of him… like that."

Morgan and Rossi both placed comforting hands on her shoulders, and Garcia grabbed Rossi's while resting her cheek on Morgan's. Hotch started pacing the width of the room behind the conference table they sat at.

"He's alive," Morgan whispered vehemently. "I'd know if he was gone."

"-See reason, Uncle James?"

JJ walked into the room at that moment, she gasped, a hand over her mouth.

"That's not-"

Hotch nodded grimly, still pacing.

"Do you think he's-"

Morgan shrugged. "That's what we're trying to figure out," he admitted.

"-Et them win! Uncle James, let him go!"

"What'd he say?" Morgan asked, confused.

"Garcia, look up the name of anyone named James within the Orlando area. He would have lost someone within the last ten years, a wife or child. Check boating licenses and boat ownerships; if he does have a historic 16th century sailing vessel, then he's going to have to prove that he owns it." Despite his resemblance to a caged lion, Hotch seemed determined to find his youngest team member in any way possible.

"As you wish," Garcia muttered, opening another window, a small, rather grim smile starting to appear on her lips despite her tear-stained cheeks and smudged makeup.

"Guys!" Morgan yelled suddenly.

"What is it?" Prentiss asked.

"Just listen," Rossi whispered, pointing to the computer. Even Garcia stopped typing.

"Hook! I challenge you!"

"That's Reid!" Morgan whispered, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. Garcia's smile brightned, tears running with renewed strength. Prentiss took a teary-eyed JJ into her arms, heaving a sigh of relief as she did so. Hotch stopped pacing, and Rossi suddenly looked about ten years younger.

"A challenge of what, exactly, Peter?" A man sneered. Garcia flinched; she did not like how that voice sounded.

"I challenge you to…. You and me… with swords tomorrow, when the sun… peak. If I win… let me and Johnny… your crew must turn yourselves… lando PD and the FBI."

"Why is it doing that?" Morgan asked, confused.

Garcia clicked at her computer. "It was the wind picking up; there was that massive storm last night, remember? A parabola would have picked up more sound in those conditions."

"What if I win? Do you want to know?" The voice of what was unmistakably their UnSub faintly grated through the speakers. "How's this? If I win, you can pick your fate."

"What fate?" There was no mistaking the tense, but fearful tone in Reid's voice.

"Option one: You walk the… body washes up… shore. Only this time, you are the last… I'm never found again."

"What's option two?"

"Option two… my personal cabin boy… and the crew's chew toy." The room was suddenly filled with the dark chuckles of other men, all who seemed to know what 'chew toy' meant.

Garcia paled, both her hands reaching up to rub her eyes. Morgan, a look of total rage on his face, slammed his fist against the conference room wall, cursing a few choice words under his breath. The other's held their breath, waiting for Reid's answer…

Suddenly, the sounds of the witnesses' boat motor revved up, causing them to miss a mass of dialogue, except for one word, spoken in Reid's familiar voice: "…deal!"

Garcia jumped from her computer, running from the conference room with fresh tears running from her face onto her blouse, Prentiss and JJ following behind her. Morgan stormed from the room, looking livid; Hotch heard him mutter something about going for a walk. Rossi exited the program, going to close the computer when he saw a name and a picture.

"Hey Hotch," he said. "Come look at this."

Hotch leaned over the computer screen, eyeing the file up and down.

"James Riley, age 53 of Orlando, born in 1958 in Jacksonville…" He read tersely. "He married Angela Watkins in 1975. They had no children, but Riley had a brother who was killed in a motor accident in 1995… Daniel and Jonathan "Johnny" Riley, Angela and James adopted them… Oh, wait… Angela and Daniel died in 2004… Drunk driver crashed into them just outside of Orlando… Rossi, look at the credit card statements after the funeral."

Now it was Rossi's turn to be confused. "16th century period clothing, swords, daggers, knives, a powdered wig, wood, nails, iron bars, white canvas, thick, heavy hemp rope…. The guy built a frigging pirate ship!"

"He was institutionalized from November 1st, 2009 to September 25th, 2010," Hotch continued, "when he and a bunch of patient being considered for the outpatient program inexplicably escaped. It was at this time that his only surviving nephew, Jon, disappeared, two days later. Three weeks go by, and our first victim disappears on a Monday, the 18th of October, and washes up on shore that Friday evening. The same thing continues for the next three Mondays until…

"Monday, November 15," Rossi grimly supplied, looking toward the evidence board and the pictures of each of the four victims that had brought them here, ending with Reid. "If this sicko sticks to pattern, today's the day he'll get rid of Reid and prepare for another victim."

"And that's not the worst part," Hotch muttered, scrolling down further.

"What?"

"He has a license to a staged re-enactment on that boat; they're living as sailors on the high seas, but-"

"But in reality they're kidnapping young men and killing them, thinking they're fictional characters in a classic children's novel," Prentiss said as she walked into the room. She had her phone in one hand and a sheaf of paper in the other. "I just got the call from the Coast Guard, and they faxed over all the important documents. Riley's ship's current location is right here." She pointed it out as she spoke. "If we hurry we can get there shortly after noon."

"Noon?" Hotch asked.

"When the sun is highest in the sky; Reid probably said 'at its peak.' Peak is another word for highest, and the time that the sun is highest in the sky is noon."

"I'll call the Coast Guard, and have them meet us at the docks in 20." Hotch growled, fishing out his cell phone. "Dave, you get the rest of the team, tell them we're going to track down this sicko and get Reid back."

::::

The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.
~James M. Barrie

….

A/N: And, just curious... Whose all looking forward to "Corazon" on Wednesday? I saw the promo on YouTube and thought it was AWESOME! It's safe to say that I nearly had a heart attack; this one appears to be a kickstart into the second half of the season. I'm also gonna post the link on my profile in case you wanna see it.

Speaking of my profile, I have a poll up regarding my Spencer/OC series: I want an UnSub from a past case in the series to come back for another round, but I dunno which one to choose (I'm probably gonna have Gideon come back, too). I wanted Rothchild, the creepy guy from 'Masterpiece,' but I kinda wanna see what else is out there... :D

Thanks to my awesome reviewers Noel Ardnek, SayidRocks, lolyncut, 68luvcarter, zannabanana, Integer, SSAFunbar, HannahlovinCM, MKatM and Laurella, as well as everyone who has favorited and alerted.

Integer: Love the pun, and I'm glad you liked the last chapter. The quotes were the best part, I thought. I hope this chapter made you happy, and willing to come back for more!
Laurella: Thanks for taking a moment to read and review! I'm very glad you liked it, and I hope you come back for the rest of it! :D
MKatM: I'm glad you liked it! I've had a blast writing... Please come back for more!

Next few chapters: Sword fights (It's coming slower than anticipated; thank goodness for YouTube), rescue and recovery. Love ya'll! :D

*~N_CBAU~*