A.N.: Alright my friends, here's the next chapter! I have a feeling you'll like it;) I think I will post the chapters like this, one playing in the past and one in the present; well until the past catches up to where we've begun. Thanks again for the fantastic flood of feedbacks, now I have a strong motivation to continue the story:) Beta-read by the kind REIDFANATIC.

Chapter 3

Present

Jessica watched the young, skinny man lying in the bed in front of her, trying to find out who this guy could really be. His hair and clothes were still so wet that they were cleaving to his thin frame. She had already pulled off the sweater that was blocking her way to the wound and she was surprised to see that he was wearing a shirt and a tie under it which made him look more like a businessman than a criminal.

"So you say that the FBI was here looking for him?" She called to her brother, who was in the kitchen, warming water for the procedure of getting the bullet out of the injured man.

"Yeah," Andrew came in and leaned against the doorframe. "And not only the FBI. There was another group of men before the FBI, I don't know who they were, and they didn't say if they were members of any organization. I told them he wasn't here, I told the FBI guys too, but they insisted on searching the house. Just after they were gone, you came and said you found someone at the river." He chuckled, shaking his head. "He must be some really big fish."

"He seems to be in serious trouble," Jessica said. "He needs help. Do you think he's a criminal?"

"No," Andrew shook his head again. "The chief of the FBI people said that he's not dangerous to anyone. He said something about only needing him for interrogation, but I didn't really understand."

"What do we do when they come back?" Jessica asked, a hint of anxiety in her voice as she looked at the young man lying so vulnerably in front of her. "Are you going to give him up?"

"What should we do?" Andrew shrugged. "If they only want to question him, there's no use in hiding him and by the way, we can get in trouble doing that. Look, we have no car, we have no phone at the moment, so I presume he won't go anywhere for a while, unless the Bureau comes back."

He looked down at his sister's worried face. "I know how you feel, but you know that no matter how clever you are, he will need a real doctor sooner or later, and better sooner than later."

Jessica nodded and turned back to her 'patient'. She pressed the cloth back onto the wound, out of which blood was still oozing but not as heavily as before. The kid didn't even flinch, though it must have been quite painful; he was probably so deeply unconscious that even pain couldn't burst through to reach his mind.

"Water's ready," Andrew reported from the kitchen and seconds later he came in, carrying a large bowl full of warm, almost hot water.

"Thanks," Jessica said, "just put it there."

She had already prepared the things she was going to need – nippers, bandages, antiseptics - on the small bedside table next to her. Now she turned her full attention to the injury on the man's side. After carefully unbuttoning his shirt, she folded it sideways so that it wouldn't disturb her during her work. There was blood everywhere, the kid had obviously lost a lot of it; but he'd live. As Jessica cleaned the wound with the warm wet cloth, she sensed something that caught her attention. It seemed as if one of his ribs was broken or at least cracked by the force of the impact; fortunately it was in place, and Jessica noted that she had to be even more careful.

She took the nippers and sat down on the floor in order to see the bullet hole better. After taking another quick glance at the unconscious man, she cautiously pulled away the edges of the wound and slowly tucked the nippers in. She had to be extremely careful not to cause more damage than had already been inflicted; so she was advancing forward at a very low pace, millimeter by millimeter, until she finally felt the hard and metallic surface of the bullet. Sighing and resisting the urge to wipe away the cold sweat from her forehead, she managed to grab it with the nippers, beginning to pull it out just as slowly as before.

It was just about then that the man suddenly moved. He groaned softly and turned his head towards the girl while his muscles tensed and his whole body started shifting.

"No, stop that," Jessica hissed in concentration. "Stay still, idiot, it's almost out."

The man groaned again in pain, his heavy breathing becoming labored, and was obviously making pitiful attempts to get away from the cause of his pain.

"I said stay still!" Jessica ordered him angrily, raising her voice to almost shouting. "If you move I will accidentally hurt you, understand? It's only a little left…"

Much to her surprise, the man calmed down, as if he really understood the situation. His groans softened to whimpering, and Jessica wondered how he could stop himself from giving into his instincts in his semi-conscious state.

It took a few more seconds that felt like hours and the bullet was finally out. The man was breathing heavily and was obviously in a great amount of pain. Jessica was relieved though, apparently she had succeeded.

"See?" She asked smiling "It's much better now isn't it?"

The wound had started bleeding again, this time more intensely, and she quickly pressed the cloth back against it, ignoring the kid's gasp.

"Sorry, I know it hurts," she apologized, "but you can trust me. I'm preparing to be a doctor; I know a lot of things. Last year, our dog was shot by one of the local hunters. I took the bullet out of him too, and he's healthy and lives to this very day. Believe me, you're gonna be okay."

The man blinked twice as a sign of his understanding. He was silent now, only glaring at her with wet brown eyes that were gleaming in his pale face from under heavy eyelids. After a couple of seconds, the eyelids closed and he appeared to lose consciousness again.

"Andy, could you help me with the bandages?" Jessica called out to his brother.

"Of course," he stepped back into the room. "Did everything go smoothly?"

"Yeah," she said, "you'll need to lift him up, and hold him in a sitting position. I promise I'll try to be quick."

Without a word, Andrew pulled Reid up by the shoulders and then put his arms under the injured man's armpits to hold him in place. Reid's head lolled down; he was no doubt out again.

"Careful," Jessica warned, "he may have a cracked rib. Now hold his arms… good."

She quickly bandaged the wound, reeling the band around Reid's torso a couple of times.

"Okay, I'm finished."

Andrew carefully laid the young man back onto the bed. "Now we just have to wait. In a couple of days he'll be all right," she continued, smiling contently at her brother. "I think I'm gonna cook some soup now. Are you hungry?"

Hotch wasn't quite content with his team, and it was something that happened to him very rarely.

Not only had they lost track of Reid completely, they hadn't even managed to catch at least one of the unsubs. Hotch couldn't really comprehend how this could occur; there were six or seven people judging by the number and directions of the shots, the agents were even seeing them at the beginning but then… according to the footprints disappearing at the opposite end of the forest, there was a big vehicle waiting for them and they managed to escape. This might have happened even before the FBI knocked on the door of the lonely house on the other side of the river, asking the tall, blonde man who came out if he had seen Reid or anybody else around. The blonde man said he didn't see anyone; he even gave his consent to the agents to search his house, however, they found nothing.

The sudden ringing of his cell phone pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Hotchner."

"Sir…" Garcia's voice was full of anxiety. She had already been informed that they'd failed to find Reid. Still there was something in her voice that made Hotch nervous too. "Sir, I've just got the test results."

"What test results?"

"The… blood you found on the forest ground."

"Yeah?"

"You won't be happy about it…"

"Say it Garcia!"

"Sir… that blood appears to be Reid's."

Hotch felt his heart skip a beat. "What? Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir." Garcia's always cheerful voice now sounded low and very distant.

"Damn," was all Hotch could say.

"You have to find him!" Garcia begged. "My poor baby… he's hurt somewhere out there, with no one to help him! You have to find him!"

"It's okay, Garcia," Hotch tried to calm her somewhat. "We'll start searching again immediately. He was probably taken further down by the river. We'll find him, I promise."

The line went dead without Garcia saying goodbye, and the unit chief had a feeling she was fighting with her tears, probably already giving way to them.

Reid's blood right at the point where Morgan stated he had shot an unsub… that was very bizarre. Could it really be that Morgan shot someone without seeing who it was? If Hotch could choose, he wouldn't have told Morgan, at least not until they'd found Reid, but he couldn't avoid that. He had to give a reason why he was ordering the agents to go out and start looking for their youngest again; and lying was never his way of solving problems.

He could just hope that Reid had really traveled further up the river and that was why they hadn't found him yet… he didn't dare to think about the other option. That the young agent was taken by the group of unsubs. That would mean the team was further away from finding him than ever.

Several hours later, Reid awoke to a terrible pain.

His right side was on fire, although he wasn't moving at all, and that made him frightened to the edge of panic until his dazed mind realized that nobody was actually torturing him. It was the simple action of breathing that sent waves of burning pain rushing through his chest and side, and it wasn't getting better. His involuntary groans softened to whimpering as he became more and more alert. He moved his head carefully and peeked around the room; he appeared to be alone, but this place was definitely not a hospital as he had first thought.

Vaguely he remembered a young, blonde-haired girl talking to him, trying to calm him. But where was she now? He tried to call out but his voice was no stronger than a whimper, and no one answered.

What am I supposed to do?

He wanted painkillers, in fact he craved them. Not moving when injured was one thing, but he never thought he would be in an agony like this, caused by something as basic as the need for breathing. He couldn't avoid the pain or he would have drowned. Every time he took a breath and his lungs expanded, it felt like he was stabbed in the ribs with a sharp, merciless knife.

Fighting back the tears that started building up in his eyes he tried to decide what to do. He noticed that someone had taken off his sweater and tie; his shirt was unbuttoned and there was a tight bandage across his abdomen. So that girl had really treated him… now he could remember that he woke up at some point while she was still here. But where could she be now?

Deciding himself, he held his breath and carefully turned to the side. The movement caused him more pain but he'd already prepared himself for that. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead and neck as he continued to push himself up onto his elbows in order to get up.

He was about halfway out of the bed when the girl rushed in, gasping as she saw the injured man.

"What do you think you're doing?" She nearly shouted at him and caught his arms to support him. "You're not supposed to move, you'll only hurt yourself more!"

With that, she gently pushed him back onto the bed. Reid couldn't suppress a whimper as his bent torso straightened again.

"I know it hurts," Jessica said sympathetically. "That's why you have to lie still. Or if you need to go to the bathroom, just say and Andrew will help you. Do you want me to call him?"

Reid shook his head and slowly closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, we've run out of pain meds," Jessica continued. "But Andrew will go and get some first thing in the morning. Until then all I can offer are sleeping pills."

The young agent nodded and opened his eyes again, lifting his pain-filled gaze to the girl.

"What's your name?" She asked.

Reid didn't answer. His mind was still fuzzy and he could only comprehend about half of what the girl had said. At last he opened his mouth to say something only to find that he was unable to speak, managing to just groan instead.

"Well tell me something Johnny," Jessica moved on, "who exactly are you and what have you done? Because I heard half the country is looking for you. My brother told me that there was a group of people here, asking after you and then another group who called themselves the FBI. That makes you a really interesting person to me," she smiled, "so I'm dying to hear your story. Don't worry, I promise I won't tell anyone."

Reid closed his eyes tiredly. So his team had already been here, searching for him, and that meant they would come again, sooner or later. He didn't know if he wanted to be found. All he knew was that he wanted some painless rest and time to think over his situation.

"Alright, we can talk later," Jessica said as if she understood what Reid's silence meant. "I'll bring you those sleeping pills then. You need to rest."

With that she hurried out of the room, returning a minute later with the medicine and a glass of water. "You need to drink all the water," she warned, "or you'll dehydrate."

Realizing how thirsty he actually was, Reid complied gratefully, lifting his head only high enough to be able to swallow properly.

Soon, everything felt better as he drifted off to the artificial sleep.

Sooo how did you like it?:)