Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds

A/N: Ignore my crappy profile. I know nothing about profiling, save what I learn from the show, so yeah, everything is kind of obvious. Handwriting analysis details from google, so they aren't entirely made up.

Also…I want to publicly apologize to Spencer…I know we all love to torture him, but I still feel bad about it. It's like I wake up every morning going, 'hmm, what a lovely day to hurt Reid.' I've actually got the next few chapters planned out and…well, let's just say Reid's not going to have fun.

And thank you, once again, for all of your support. Your reviews have been wonderful, and have made me much more confident about what I am doing. You guys are absolutely wonderful. I hope you like this chapter.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS GRAPHIC CONTENT __________________________________________________

Rossi frowned, and stood up, walking over to Reid and placing a hand on his shoulder. Reid just about jumped out of his skin, spinning around to face Rossi.

"Kid, I don't know what you're problem has been lately, but you need to get your head in the game, and stop snapping at your team mates." Rossi didn't sound overly angry, but his voice had a steely tone to it, that really left no room for arguing. Reid's eyes narrowed and Morgan was almost afraid that Reid would hit Rossi, right then and there in the conference room. Instead, he turned back to the white board, calmly folding his arms across his chest.

"There were at least two stressors. One made the unsub start raping men, around two to three months ago." Rossi nodded, seemingly appeased.

"Right. The first stressor was probably his injury, and most likely had something to do with a prostitute resembling the men." Prentiss, feeling the tension in the room ease, chose this time to join in.

"The second stressor made him start kidnapping and killing, a week ago. He threatened to kill them if they went to the cops, but he waited a whole month and a half before he actually kidnapped anyone."

Morgan walked over to the evidence board, looking at a note card that had been left with one of the victim's who had been unconscious for the assault. "I have paid you more than you're worth, don't bother going to the cops, or I'll kill you. He's pretty straightforward in the note." Reid walked over to Morgan, frowning as he looked at the note.

"A left slant, the unsub is probably cold, and indifferent to others, but the baseline is wavy, and the markings are dark, suggesting that he also has intense, uncontrollable moods. He doesn't concentrate on the upper zones of the letters, so he's probably of low intelligence. Maybe the unsub was a janitor or security guard at the hospital, or the police station, and was fired due to his injury."

"It would make sense. Losing his job could be the second stressor, the one that made him start killing," said Morgan, but then he frowned slightly. "Still, that doesn't explain how he knew where to find these guys once he figured out they reported the crime. They lived in different parts of town, one lives in DC, and they didn't work close to one another. I'm guessing he wasn't just roaming around town for a month and a half, and then happened to find them all in one week. He must have gotten personal information about them somehow." At this, Morgan noticed Reid tense considerably, his eyes going wide.

"He asked them where they lived before getting them in their cars, right?" Reid asked, turning to them. JJ, who had been silent thus far. JJ blinked, and stared at him blankly for a moment.

"Yeah. He told them he was going to drive them home," JJ answered. Reid nodded, his eyebrows knitting together as he looked back at the board.

"But that implies that he planned on killing them if they went to the cops before the stressor…" Reid trailed off as Hotch walked in.

"Garcia's still looking. Morgan, I think you and Reid should go and try to talk to some prostitutes, and see if any of them knew the unsub. He probably had plenty of contact with them before his injury." Morgan glanced at Reid, unsure of how he would react to being sent to talk to prostitutes. Reid just nodded calmly.

"His injury might have been caused by a prostitute who fits the victim's descriptions." said Reid, almost as if he were talking to himself. Pulling on his jacket, Reid left the conference room, and Morgan followed him. Once they had made it to the black SUV, Morgan got in the driver's side, taking a deep breath and waiting until Reid got in to start the vehicle.

"Are you going to tell them?" Morgan asked gently. Reid frowned deeply, shaking his head as he pulled on his seat belt.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Reid, please don't make this hard. This unsub is the same guy who raped you." Reid fidgeted, staring out of his window to avoid eye contact with Morgan.

"I don't remember enough for it to matter," Reid snapped.

"What do you remember?"

"I was with a friend, and he took off. I started feeling dizzy, even though I had only had one drink. The unsub walked up to me and offered me a ride home. I told him I'd just get a cab, but I was so...unsteady because of the drug, and I couldn't think straight...when he grabbed my arm and pulled me out to his car, I just went with him. I didn't tell him my address, but he kept asking me. He blindfolded me, and we drove for about two hours, but we couldn't have gotten far. He turned a lot, and I'm pretty sure he never crossed the interstate. He probably lives within a six to ten mile radius of the bar he took me from, which was on Potomac Avenue. Once he stopped, he pulled off the blindfold, and tied up my arms, tying them so most of my weight would be on the insides of my elbows and biceps…" Reid stopped, shaking his head. "We should stop here and walk up to the prostitutes. I don't think they'll want to talk to us if we drive up in a big, black SUV."

Morgan nodded and pulled over. They got out and walked up to the strip where the prostitutes worked. It was only about five pm, so there weren't many prostitutes on the streets yet. Reid walked up to a younger woman. Reid looked tired, but not nervous. Morgan decided to hang back a little, not wanting to crowd her.

"Hey, Stephen, haven't seen you in awhile," said the woman, smiling pleasantly at Reid. Well, of course Reid would've known other prostitutes, and wouldn't have used his real name...still, it was hard for Morgan to see Reid's former profession thrown in his face.

"Uh, yeah…I know…listen, have you heard any stories from the guys about a client who hurt his back while he was with them?" Reid asked.

The woman raised her eyebrows, but nodded. "Oh, sure. A couple months ago Brit had a guy throw out his back during the exchange."

"Uh, Brit?"

"Oh, right, you don't know him. Well, he doesn't work nights, only mornings. God knows why. He'll probably be up here tomorrow morning, around four or five. Tall, lanky guy, brown hair, red jacket. Hard to miss." Reid nodded and thanked her, and then turned back to Morgan.

"We'll have to wait to talk to him until tomorrow," Reid muttered as they walked away, sounding rather frustrated. And with good reason too; all of the victims had been killed between twenty and thirty hours of their abduction, and Fredericks had gone missing seven hours ago. Reid took out his phone as they reached the SUV. "I'm putting it on speaker," Reid said as he jumped into the vehicle. Morgan nodded, and began driving as they listened to the phone ring.

"Hotchner."

"Hi, Hotch. We know who the prostitute who threw out the unsub's back is, but we can't talk to him until tomorrow morning." On the other end of the line, Morgan heard Hotch let out a sigh of frustration.

"Okay, Reid. I wish I could say we have something, but we don't. Garcia can't find anything and Fredericks doesn't have a lot of time left. The unsub is not going to be taking another victim until he kills Fredericks, so we can't send people to the bars to look for him…"

"Me and Reid could go to the bars, see if somebody working there saw him."

"No, I don't think that would do much good. Let's meet at the police precinct to give the profile."

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By the time they had given the profile of the unsub, along with several police sketches, it was about eight pm. They returned to the Bureau, frustration filling the air. They had made sure that the surviving victims had police stationed around their houses, along with other precautions. Hotch, JJ, and Prentiss were on one side of the conference room, still trying to figure out how the unsub knew which victims had gone to the police, while Rossi, Morgan and Reid were on the other side of the room, scrutinizing Reid's geographic profile. Lines, circles, and tacks were placed across the map. One area was circled and highlighted as the most likely area that the unsub resided in. Rossi frowned slightly, leaning closer to the map.

"Reid, what's this circle here?" Rossi asked, pointing at a smaller circle, with a radius of about ten miles. Reid raised his eyebrow.

"Although he never took them from the same bar, three out of the seven were taken from bars near Quantico, so he probably lives in the area, since he's most comfortable here, but he would want to distance himself from the kidnapping, at least a little, so the unsub must live somewhere in here," said Reid, tracing the highlighted circle around Dumfries.

"Alright," said Rossi. Just then, Garcia came rushing in.

"Well, hello, my darlings. Guess what the gorgeous tech-goddess dug up for you." Heads turned to Garcia.

"What have you got, Garcia?" Hotch asked calmly.

"Well, after finding no trace of the guy in records, or the cyber world, I called the hospital that all of the victims went to, and talked to some of the staff. It turns out that a guy with a bum back was constantly in and out of the hospital, not for medical reasons, but to pick up his 'friend' from work. However, the staff say that they never saw him leaving with anyone, and it turns out he was always in just after the rapes occurred. They don't have any of his medical records on file, so he's not a patient at that hospital. He would have known that they would all go to that hospital though, since it's the nearest one to the alley he dumped them in. Also, it's closer to where he left them than the precinct."

"Good work, Garcia. See if you can get anything more." Garcia nodded at Hotch, and then hurried away.

"Well, at least now we know how he knew which victims reported the assault," said Rossi.

Hotch just shook his head, and pulled out his cell, calling Detective Norris to give him an update. While Hotch was on the phone, Morgan went to swap ideas with Prentiss. He didn't notice Reid and Rossi arguing until they started raising their voices.

"I wouldn't have a problem doing my job if you weren't always questioning every little thing I do!" Reid practically yelled. Rossi stepped up close into Reid's personal space, crowding him back against the wall. Morgan could only look on in horror, unsure of how to help Reid without drawing suspicion.

"Don't exaggerate Reid! I just wanted you to explain why you think the unsub is impotent! It just doesn't fit the profile, and not to mention, all of the victims descriptions of their assault suggest anything but impotence." By this time, Hotch had finished his phone call, and was looking at the two profilers with something like horrified disbelief.

"Just drop it, okay Rossi! It doesn't even matter!"

"Just explain it to me, Reid!"

"There are…they were all drugged, and all said that he was behind them, and if he put a condom on it, they wouldn't have known if he were using a…." Reid simply trailed off, looking away. "Whatever, it doesn't matter anyway."

"Just explain to me why you think that?" Rossi asked, crowding Reid even more. Reid went tense, and punched Rossi square in the chest, hard enough to knock the wind out of the older profiler. Rossi grabbed his chest, backing away from a very pissed off Reid.

"Reid, if you have a personal connection with this case, I suggest you tell us now." Hotch's voice was stern and sharp, but not altogether cold. Reid's eyes went wide, and his body went completely rigid. Morgan felt like he'd been punched in the gut when Reid glanced over at him, his eyes practically screaming, 'help me!' Reid then took his eyes off Morgan, staring at Hotch, seeming almost terrified. It was, for Morgan, heart-wrenching, and he personally wanted nothing more than to punch Hotch in the face for bringing this up. There was a long, tense moment of silence, in which Hotch and Reid simply stared at one another, and then Reid hunched his shoulders, looking at the ground.

"Yes…" he muttered, sounding almost like a kid who had gotten caught stealing out of his mother's purse. Hotch blinked, and Morgan could tell he was shocked at the admission, no matter what his suspicions had been. "But…there's nothing I can add to the profile that would be useful." Suddenly Reid turned, and hurried out of the room. Hotch let him go, sitting down and closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Morgan glanced around, feeling an odd sense of surrealism. Rossi stood where he had been arguing with Reid, his usually unreadable mask pulled back, revealing shock, guilt…it made him look older, almost frailer than usual. Looking at JJ, he was reminded of how she had looked in Georgia after they had found out Tobias Hankel had kidnapped Reid. Emily put her arm around JJ shoulders, and was gently escorting her out of the room. Hotch spoke up, but didn't move.

"Morgan...you knew…you knew, didn't you?" Morgan sucked in a breath and hesitated before answering.

"Yes, sir."

"Is there anything else I should know?" Morgan didn't hesitate before answering this time.

"No."

"Alright…go see if he's okay…take him home. If you see JJ and Prentiss, tell them they can go home too, but they need to be here tomorrow morning. I would still like you and Reid to talk to 'Brit' tomorrow, but if he needs to sit it out in the SUV, please encourage him to do so. We still have to work this case." Morgan nodded, and then, as though in a daze, left the room, at first unsure of where to look for Reid. He passed JJ and Prentiss, and told them what Hotch had said, and then wandered off to find Reid. He turned and went into the men's room. Morgan was greeted by the sound of Reid emptying his stomach contents in one of the stalls, and he had to stop momentarily to gather himself.

Feeling slightly unsteady, Morgan walked over to the open stall at the far end, and knelt down behind Reid, holding his hair back with one hand, and rubbing soothing circles on his back with the other while Reid continued to throw-up, despite the fact he'd only had toast that morning, and chips out of the vending machine for lunch. Finally, after a minute or two, the dry heaves ceased. Reid tore off a couple squares of toilet paper, wiping his mouth, leaning back and flushing.

"I'm okay," Reid muttered, leaning back against Morgan slightly. Morgan could feel Reid trembling.

"Here, let me help you up. We got to get home, we have an early morning tomorrow." Reid nodded, and Morgan helped him carefully to his feet, and they walked out of the restroom, Reid pushing Morgan away when he tried to help him walk.

As they got into Morgan's car, Reid took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Once Morgan had started driving, Reid spoke up, sounding devastated.

"I…I shouldn't be on the team."

"What? No, Reid, god, don't say that…we need you, kid…"

"I keep messing up!!! I know you knew about the Dilaudid, and then there's this whole thing…I was moonlighting as a hooker, Morgan! I do not belong in the FBI. I punched David Rossi. God…Hotch is going to fire me, isn't he?" Reid hunched over in his seat, burying his face in his hands.

"He isn't going to fire you, Reid! He's worried, more than anything. Everybody cares about you. If you need some time off, I'm sure Hotch will give it to you." Morgan continued to try to reassure Reid that his spot on the team was not being questioned in any way, but Reid didn't seem to hear him, curled up in the passenger seat. Once they made it to Morgan's house, Reid practically jumped in the car, and ran into the house. Morgan got inside, and heard the shower running. He let out a sigh, and went to his room, taking out the case file.

After a minute of trying, unsuccessfully, to piece things together, Morgan simply tossed the folder across the room, and then ran a hand over his scalp. God, he just wanted to punch a wall, or scream…probably not a good idea. No need to freak Reid out by throwing things at the walls and whatnot. Once he heard the water shut off, Morgan left his room, passing Reid in the hallway. Morgan took a quick shower, and then went back into the bedroom, noticing with little surprise that Reid had gone to his own room. Collapsing onto the bed, Morgan closed his eyes and, still feeling the stress from the day, fell asleep.

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TBC…

A/N: Alright, putting this chapter up a little early. Once again, thank you for all your reviews. I've got the next few chapters planned out, but I could still always use suggestions; for example, I've got Reid's reactions down pretty good, I think, but Morgan's just kind of standing around, going 'oh noooooo.' I could really use some help with what to do with his reactions. sassyboots4's review gave me some ideas for what I'm going to do, but I'm still just not very good at Morgan reactions.