A.N.: Okay, since a lot of other authors have surprised their readers with a new chapter of their current story as a Christmas gift, I think I'll just do the same then:) Merry Christmas to everyone and big thanks to those who had reviewed the previous chapter! Beta-read by REIDFANATIC.

Chapter Four

One day earlier

"It's Douglas Jacobson."

"Jacobson, what about him?"

"He's dead."

Reid felt like the blood in his veins had suddenly turned to freezing ice.

"What?"

"His maid found him this morning when she came to clean his house. His throat was slit with a knife, his stomach open and his intestines…" Garcia trailed off, voice broken.

Reid could hardly believe that he was not dreaming and this was all true. He was still standing in the middle of the kitchen, frozen to the spot, even unable to stumble to a chair to sit down.

"You visited him yesterday, right?"

"Yeah, but there was nothing wrong then…" He mumbled, finally finding his voice.

"Reid, listen to me," Garcia interrupted, sounding more serious than ever, "Hotch wants you to stay right where you are. Strauss had sent some people to your place to escort you here, they could be there in any minute."

"Fine, but why…" Reid started, then suddenly realization hit him. "Wait, you don't think I did it? You want to handle me as a suspect?" He felt his heart start beating faster; he began pacing his apartment, eyes scanning nervously everything as if he was a trapped wild animal.

"Honey, don't be stupid," Garcia hurried to calm him. "None of us thinks you have anything to do with it. It's just… it's not our case, that's all. Strauss had already made measures, and apparently she thinks that Hotch and the team may be… emotionally affected since it's about you, and…"

Hearing these words, Reid felt the last bit of his strength leave him and he collapsed on the couch, exhausted and trembling. So now he couldn't even count on the team. Not because of them, but because they are 'emotionally affected'.

"I don't know much yet," Garcia went on, "but I don't believe they consider you as a suspect. You just need to be questioned about Jacobson, because you are very likely the last person who saw him alive. The escort group is just a… part of the protocol, I think."

"I hope so," Reid breathed.

"Don't worry, we'll find the one who did this," Garcia said in a soft voice. "And don't forget that we are always behind you. Hotch probably wouldn't want me to tell you this, but right now as we speak he's busy trying to make things go as smooth as possible to spare you more inconvenience."

"Thank you," Reid muttered as he calmed down a bit. All in all, he could still count on the team. Even if their hands were bound, they were trying to do everything to help – that gave him a lot of comfort.

Suddenly a loud knocking was heard.

"Um, I gotta go, it must be them," Reid said, "wish me luck."

"See you soon, sweetcheeks," Garcia answered.

Reid hung up the phone, sank it into his pocket and hurried to open the door. There stood two men in black suits and sunglasses, their arms crossed on their chests. To be honest, Reid felt a bit disappointed at the sight of them; he hoped that at least Morgan would volunteer to be a member of the escort group.

"Dr. Spencer Reid?" One of the agents asked in a quite unfriendly tone. To Reid's reluctant nod, he continued. "Would you come with us please? I assume you've already been informed…"

"Um, yes, just two minutes, I have to get myself ready. Come in," Reid said nervously, letting the two guys inside.

"Oh, and there will be no need to bring your gun," the other agent said as they walked in, looking around in the small apartment.

What? Why? Reid was confused. Why couldn't he bring his gun when he wasn't a suspect? He didn't dare to ask it however; just made a mental note to come back for it as soon as he was over this whole mess.

As he grabbed his bag in the living room, he automatically peeked out of the window; and that was when something caught his attention. First he didn't realize what exactly was wrong with the street but then it became clear. There weren't any FBI cars parked in front of the house beside his. And I don't think we're going with public transport, he thought.

"What are we going to travel with?" He asked as he returned to the black-suited men. One of them was just exploring the kitchen, the other one fiddling with his tie in front of the hall mirror. He turned to Reid slowly and bored.

"Excuse me?"

"I… didn't see your car parked out there," Reid gestured towards the window. As the man stood there silently, without answering, another suspicion formed in the young agent's mind. "I'm sorry, but have you showed your badges?"

The agent still didn't answer, but reached for his pocket in a very low pace, as if he was really annoyed, but when he drew his hand out, there was nothing in it. Reid stared at him bewildered for a second, then all hell broke loose. The agent made a small, strange nod, and a moment later Reid noticed something moving in the edge of his vision, but before he could do anything he felt something hard hit the side of his head. He let out a small cry of pain as he lost his balance and fell against the wall. Black spots were dancing in front of his eyes and as he turned, he saw the two 'agents' closing in on him. One of them had something in his hand that bore a strange resemblance to his mother's rolling pin that he kept in one of the kitchen drawers. Reid panicked. Who the hell were this guys and what did they want from him?

The rolling pin ascended and Reid quickly lifted his arm in front of his face to protect himself just in time, and the blow landed hard on his arm. Reacting fast, he grabbed the black-suited man's wrist and pulled it towards himself, managing to make the guy lose his balance; then pushed him with all his strength against the other one. The men stumbled backwards but weren't knocked off their feet, however, Reid only needed to gain a couple of seconds advantage to turn around and make a run for his gun.

Unfortunately he didn't make it to his bedroom. One of the attackers lunged forward, managing to catch his leg and Reid fell on the coffee table, knocking it over and sending books and stacks of papers spreading all over the floor. He turned onto his back immediately to prepare for fighting, but the man didn't move from where he fell on the floor. Reid's heart beat wildly in his chest as he slowly got to his feet; the attacker had apparently hit his head in the edge of the coffee table and lost consciousness.

The young agent panted and watched the motionless body horrified, forgetting fully about the other man until he grabbed Reid by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

"You'll pay for this, jerk," he hissed through his teeth, then pulled the kid with himself into the bathroom and slammed him against the edge of the sink too. Reid gasped in pain but the next moment he launched himself forward, trying to push the guy away from himself. However, since the man was twice his size, he only lost his balance and both of them stumbled sideways, hitting the big bathroom mirror that shattered immediately. Broken pieces rained down on them, and Reid quickly jumped out of the door as the 'agent' was busy protecting himself.

He didn't get far this time either. The attacker caught him right at the spot where the other one did a couple of moments ago, and the young agent landed on top of the unconscious man. This time he wasn't lucky either, soon the first man was over him, kneeling on his chest and a hand closed around his throat, strangling him, blocking the way of the little air that could have gotten into his struggling lungs…

And then Reid's flailing hand found the rolling pin on the floor, next to the unconscious agent.

He brought it down desperately on the head of his attacker; once, twice, three times, and suddenly the pressure disappeared from his throat and chest. Coughing, Reid crawled away, still clutching onto the rolling pin as if his life depended on it. Probably it really did.

The other agent was slowly getting up too. The blows weren't strong enough to knock him out; he was growling and making his way towards Reid, who faced a difficult decision. He wanted to get his gun from the bedroom, but it meant that he would have to get past his attacker, and he couldn't risk getting trapped between a wall and the furious man again.

The guy came closer and Reid, once again losing his rationality to his panic, sped towards the apartment door, grabbing only his messenger bag in the hurry. He only realized at his car that he still held the rolling pin, which, as he now noticed, was slightly bloody at the end. He threw it away in disgust, not paying attention to the fact that it could have been his blood as well. Glancing back over his shoulder to see if he's followed, he jumped into the car and pulled off, heart still racing and his body shaking uncontrollably.

As Morgan entered the bullpen, he was greeted with an unnaturally big hustle. Everyone seemed to be running around, talking loudly in phones or to each other, looking extremely busy with something.

"What the hell?" He murmured under his nose as he stepped to Prentiss and JJ who were engrossed in a conversation next to a desk.

"Girls, what's happening in here?" He asked.

"Where have you been?" Prentiss asked back, as if he just missed the event of the year.

Morgan looked at her with a frustrated look on his face. "On my way here, why? Come on, I'm not even late for work! It's not my fault if everyone forgot to call me and tell me there's an emergency. Now tell me what it is!"

JJ exchanged a look with Prentiss before she answered, reluctantly. "It's Reid."

"What happened to him?" Morgan asked, nervousness growing inside him. What on earth had the kid gotten himself into this time?

"He was at Mr. Jacobson's yesterday, you know, the uncle of Helena Jacobson, to inform him about how we solved the case. And Jacobson was found dead this morning."

"What? How?" Morgan just didn't know where to start the row of questions.

"He was murdered, cause of death is a wound on his throat caused by a kitchen knife." Prentiss enlightened him with a hint of anxiety in her voice.

"Where is he now?" Morgan asked impatiently, referring to Reid.

"Probably on his way here with a couple of agents."

"What?"

"Strauss doesn't want us to work on the case." JJ explained with a desperate expression on her face. "Derek, I don't know what she wants to do, as far as we know he'll only be questioned but I'm afraid… what if they consider him a suspect?"

"That's ridiculous," Morgan snorted, shaking his head. "Reid killing someone? Nobody can believe this bullshit. I mean, he has a history with the FBI, we all know him, he should be above all kind of suspicion…"

Prentiss nodded. "I think it's not very likely that he'll end up being a suspect. They will need proof, and since we all know he's innocent, there's no way they'll find any."

Hotchner approached them, holding a cell phone to his head and talking, his voice was full of tension.

"…You sure?... Fine, I'll ask around. …Of course we'll find him."

"What's it?" Morgan hurried to ask as soon as he hung up the phone.

"Have any of you talk to Reid in the past half an hour?" Hotch asked, the expression on his face more serious than ever.

All three of them shook their heads. "Why?" JJ asked.

"He's gone," Hotch announced.

"What?" Morgan's jaw dropped. The third surprise of this very day.

"I just talked to one of the guys who were supposed to bring him here. He says Reid's not at home."

"Does he know that he's supposed to be escorted here?" Prentiss asked.

Hotch nodded. " Garcia called him and told him everything, about twenty minutes ago. He didn't protest."

"Then where the hell could he be?" Morgan felt anger rising inside him. He felt sorry and worried about the kid but running away from the FBI was just the stupidest move he could ever imagine. It was not very typical of Reid.

"I don't know," Hotch answered, looking in the eyes of the trio, one after the other. "But I'll send Garcia to track down the signal of his cell phone. Hope he's got it with him."

well well we are in trouble now...:D

I'll try to update soon. After Christmas I count on having a bit more time... to write!:)