The low drum of the engine was all that could be heard, and Prentiss' eyes kept glancing toward Reid in unease. His fingers were tapping on the screen of his cell constantly, and it was getting louder the more she watched.

"Reid!"

He jolted back to life, and shifted in his seat. "Hmm?"

"You alright?" she asked as her eyes switched back to the car in front, carrying Hotch, Rossi and Morgan. She saw Reid brush back his hair nervously, a habit he picked up when it was unkempt. Now, he seemed older.

"Im fine," he mumbled, but Prentiss knew. She knew what was going on in Spencer's mind, to an extent. She wasn't blind to a spark, either.

"Hey, you're shades," she observed as she noticed they were missing. He wasn't squinting at the glare of the sun anymore. "Yeah, I guess the headaches were psychosomatic," he laughed solemnly, looking down to his phone in thoughtful silence.

"What happened?" she asked, treading carefully. He was a relatively private person, with what little he had outside the workplace.

"I was convinced," he merely stated, and Prentiss knew that was all she would get. A few more moments of quiet, and they turned into the street after the car. "So, pre-muscle Morgan, huh?"

A smirk sounded beside her, and the young genius was battling a smile. "You'll have to see the picture Garcia dug up," he advised, and silence followed again. Before long, they were pulling up at the bottom of the drive. "You go first," she advised, and turned to see the doctor eyeing it nervously. "I think that's not such a good idea...he was threatened when he saw me. You should go," he explained logically, but she saw the struggle within him. Without that logic, he would throw that door open and barge in like a bull.

"You're right, as always Doctor Reid."

Climbing out of the car, she signaled for the others to wait, and approached the door to the appartment block.

Pressing the buzzer next to Morson's name, she waited.

Reid checked his watch placed outside his sleeve, 5 43 pm. She should be home.

He waited, his eyes on Emily securely. Her head turned, and she shook it slightly. His chest felt weighted as he too climbed out, and slowly walked to join her. "No answer?"

"Nope," she observed, and pulled the handle on the door for it to open. It was unlocked, unsecured. Reid was adding all this up as he went along.

They trudged up the stair cases to the third floor, and found her door in the dimly lit hallway, lighting up its modern minimalist design. Emily's shoes clicked against the wooden flooring.

"Can you see anything?" she asked as Spencer cupped his hands to peak through the small pane of glass in the upper half of the door. "Its dark...but I can see the something in the hallway straight ahead. On the floor...small."

Spencer lent in forward to get a closer look, but felt the door give under his weight. It was open.

Nudging it cautiously, he glanced inside the dim apartment, feeling like this was some kind of violation. But then his eyes picked up the object on the floor, remnants of a crushed phone. "One down," Prentiss commented as she eyed the object from behind, and began searching the living room. Reid was frozen.

"Hey," her voice called softly, and he thawed to turn to the direction it came from. She was stood by a table, on which the phone stand was placed. He joined her as she stared at it. Underneath, a small, light green piece of paper poked out.

Nudging it out with his finger, it slide into view. On it was, from notes she had made on her timetable, her handwriting. slanted and rushed, a little like his own.

"What does it say?" Emily asked, having trouble deciphering the scrawled words.