A/N: Humptidum, this story got HUGE attention! Thank you all! I'm kinda feeling a lot of pressure here to make it good, tho.. I promise, it will be good. Or at least I hope it will be :D Beta read by the lovely LT, next chapter will be up before Friday! Enjoy!

-o-o-o-

"One is never lost. One is always where one is supposed to be."
-- Hadji Singh

-o-o-o-

Monday

"No sign of Reid today?" Hotch looked around the bullpen. All of the other agents were accounted for, except for the youngest member of the team.

"Nope", Morgan said, looking around casually. "He probably just overslept."

Prentiss shook her head in disbelief. "I've been here for years and I've never once seen him oversleep. Hasn't he called?"

"No", Hotch said, shaking his head slightly.

"Maybe he just needs some time after that last case. It was pretty bad." Morgan dropped some files on the table next to him. "If he needs time…"

"If he needed time he should have called", Hotch interjected. "Not just decide not to show up for work. Call him. Find out what's going on. I have a meeting in five minutes, I'll see you later." With that, he turned away from the group and continued on his way to his meeting with Erin Strauss. He was not happy that one of his agents had decided to go AWOL. There was always the chance of them being rushed of to Hicksville, Arkansas on a case, and it was crucial that their team was always reachable.

Watching his boss walk away, Morgan pulled up his phone to call Reid. To his dismay, the phone was shut off. "He turned the phone off", he said, flipping it closed.

Prentiss sighed. "What's he up to? It's not like him to be like this."

"I still think he needed some time to gather his thoughts after that case."

"Maybe." Prentiss nodded. "We'll try again later."

"Yeah." There wasn't much else they could do now, and Morgan knew what it was like to need time. He didn't want to intrude on his co-workers personal space, even though he was concerned. He could give it until tomorrow. Or at least a few hours.

-o-o-o-

Tuesday

As Morgan walked through the glass doors into the BAU-office, all he could think about was that he hoped Reid would sit at his desk as he always did, fiddling with his papers and drinking his jumbo-size cup of coffee from the coffee shop he always stopped at before coming into work. He would be reading his papers, mouthing along as he read. He'd sip his coffee and bite his lip, trying to figure out how to proceed with his work. He'd cross and uncross his legs restlessly while pushing wayward strands of hair out of his face as he spun his cup absent mindedly on the table. That was Reid.

But as Morgan stepped into the bullpen, there was no resident genius to be found. His desk was gaping empty and paper work was piling up in the inbox. Morgan sighed. Now he knew something was wrong.

He had been calling Reid once every hour the day before, and two times as he got up that morning. Not once had there even been a signal. The phone was off and there was no getting a hold of the young agent.

"Any word?" Prentiss wondered as Morgan walked up to her. Her concerns were just as great as Morgan's. She might not be on a sister/brother basis with Reid, but she knew him well enough to know that this was not like him at all. His work was basically all he had, and he'd never ignore it like this.

"Nothing. He hasn't turned his phone on."

"God, Hotch is gonna throw a fit." Placing her hands on her hips, Prentiss drew a deep breath. "What are we going to do?"

"What are we going to do about what?" Rossi's voice came from behind them.

Morgan turned to face him. "Reid's not in and we can't get a hold of him."

Rossi frowned. "That's not good. He wasn't here yesterday either. Is he sick?"

"We don't know, no one's heard a word from him since we left work on Friday."

"You don't think something's happened to him, do you?" Prentiss ran her fingers through her hair, worry ghosting across her face.

"Something's definitely not kosher around here", Morgan concluded. He took his jacket from his chair and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Prentiss asked, although she already knew the answer.

Pulling on the black leather garment, Morgan gritted his teeth slightly. "Reid's apartment. I have a spare key at home for when I water his plants while he visits his mother."

"Take Rossi with you." The familiar voice of their unit chief came from up the stairs, and they turned around. Hotch was standing outside his office door, a grim look on his face. He wasn't happy about the situation, but did his best not to let his worry shine through is stoic exterior. If the commanding officer began to show that kind of weakness among his crew, the system would fall apart. He chose to hide his true emotions.

Morgan nodded. "Okay." Accompanied by Rossi, he left the bullpen and headed home to collect the spare key. Just in case Reid didn't answer the door.

-o-o-o-

Seven knocks and three rings after they had arrived at Reid's place, the two agents decided that it was enough. There was definitely enough cause to use the spare key. Morgan looked at Rossi, who nodded, and the spare key was pulled out of the pocket and shoved into the lock.

The door slid open and revealed nothing but a silent, empty apartment.

"Reid?" Morgan called into the silence. There was no answer. "Reid, it's Morgan and Rossi." Nothing.

The two agents entered the apartment slowly, hands ready to go for their guns should the situation call for it. But for the most part they were just worried about their youngest colleague.

"No signs of a struggle", Rossi said as he peered into the living room. There were books everywhere, floor to ceiling. He wasn't exactly surprised, considering that the younger agent must have acquired his extensive knowledge from somewhere. This explained a lot.

"No note", Morgan said, looking at the fridge and the notepad by the phone. "Nothing. It's like he just got up and left."

Rossi crouched by a slightly open dresser drawer. "Wherever he's gone to, it looks like he brought some clothes." Things were definitely missing from the drawer. It looked like someone had just reached in and grabbed whatever he could get his hands on.

"He packed a bag and took off?" Morgan leaned against the door post, looking questioningly at his senior colleague. "That doesn't sound like him. He's a pedantic neat freak; he'd never leave things in disarray. And he's too bound to his work not to let us know where he went."

"His mother", Rossi commented. "Isn't she in some sort of hospital?"

"Yeah, a sanitarium in Las Vegas."

"Maybe she took ill. He could have just been too stressed out and worried to remember calling us."

"No", Morgan said firmly. "No, he wouldn't. Rossi… Something's wrong."

"And I'm reaching for straws." Rossi knew it. He didn't want to believe that something could have happened to the young agent. "Maybe we should call the sanitarium and see if he's there. There are not a lot of other places he could be."

Morgan nodded. "He should have the number around here somewhere." Making his way back to the kitchen, he searched the neat pile of old letters and envelopes until he found what he was looking for. A letter from Bennington with contact information. He dialed.

"Hello, this is Agent Derek Morgan of the FBI. I'm looking for one of our agents, Dr. Spencer Reid? His mother is a resident with you."

There were a few moments of silence as Morgan listened to the orderly on the other end of the line. Rossi joined him in the kitchen, and stood beside him waiting for the reply.

"He's not? Alright." Morgan shook his head. "Has his mother had any difficulties that could have caused him to rush off and visit her?"

More silence, but Morgan's face took on a shade of concern mixed with irritation. "No?" A sigh. "Well, if he does show up, could you ask him to call us? It's very important. Thank you."

Hanging up the phone and shoving it back into his pocket, he turned to Rossi. "Nothing. They haven't seen him since Christmas. Where the hell is he?"

"I have no idea. Does he have anyplace he likes to go to when he wants to get away?"

"Not that I know of. I've never seen him go anywhere else than home after work, and I don't know what he does on the weekends." Morgan sighed again.

Rossi looked at his watch. "We can't do anything here; let's head back to the office. Maybe Garcia can put a trace on the phone?"

"Not if it's not on."

"At least she can put it under surveillance." Rossi pulled his own phone up and flipped it open, dialing.

"Oracle of Quantico, speak, oh fortunate one."

"Garcia, I need a trace on Reid's cell phone."

"He's still missing?" Rossi could hear the worry in Garcia's voice.

"Unfortunately, yes. Can you put his phone on surveillance and also check if there are any airline tickets or such bought in his name?"

"I am on it as we speak, Sir. I'll call you back as soon as I have something."

"Do that." Rossi hung up the phone and put it back into his pocket.

"If there's anything out there, Garcia will find it." Morgan was certain that if anyone could get a trace on their youngest member, it was Garcia. A needle in a pile of needles would be no problem for their technical analyst's swift mind and fingers.

"Let's hope so." Rossi nodded and looked around the kitchen. "This kid is even more pedantic than I am", he said when his eyes fell on the meticulously arranged spice rack and the row of utensils carefully hung over the counter.

Morgan snickered slightly. "Hard to believe, huh? He's constantly confused and his desk is a mess. But his apartment is always spotless. I dare you to find dust."

"That bad?" Rossi smiled and looked around, touching the counter with his fingertips. Absent mindedly, he opened the door to the cabinet under the sink. "Huh."

"What?"

"Looks like Reid had a little accident." He pointed to the broken lamp and shards of glass in the bin inside the cabinet.

Morgan looked at the mess in the bin. "That lamp's from the bedroom." He walked out into the hallway and to the bedroom. As he reached the window, something began crunching under his feet. Looking down, he noticed several shards of left behind glass on the floor. "Rossi."

The older agent accompanied Morgan in the bedroom. "Glass", Rossi said as Morgan indicated to the floor. "Would he have left it behind like that?"

"Not a chance. Someone's been cleaning up here." Morgan felt his heart beginning to beat faster. He'd had his suspicions already that something had happened to his little brother, but finding the glass on the floor settled it for him. Something was definitely wrong now. "There are no other signs of a struggle."

"We don't know if anything happened just yet."

"I know." Morgan gritted his teeth. "But he wouldn't take off like this." Walking out into the living room, he scrutinized the apartment. "There's nothing here. He must have been caught off guard."

"It's his own apartment. Of course he was taken by surprise; he wouldn't be expecting anyone being in here." Rossi felt complied to follow Morgan's train of thought. Everything about this situation rang 'abduction'. But why? And by who?

"We need to call Hotch." The second Morgan reached for his phone, Rossi's phone went off.

"Rossi."

"There's nothing", Garcia's voice chimed through the cell as Rossi put it on speaker. "No train, flight or bus tickets, no one has requested permission to use the jet and his phone is still off. But I have it on surveillance; if it turns on I can triangulate it in less than three minutes."

"Sounds good, Garcia", Morgan said as he nodded to Rossi to follow him out the door. "Do you have a last dialed number?"

"You're speaking to the mistress of all that is crackable, sweetie – reluctant phone companies are easy. Last dialed number from his cell is Hotch's cell on Thursday while you were still in Salt Lake City. The last dialed number from his home phone is two months old and it's to Bennington. He doesn't use his home phone much, does he?"

"Apparently not", Morgan mumbled. "No word from him back at Quantico?"

"Not that I know of. Morgan, where is he?" The worry in Garcia's voice was much more than obvious.

"I don't know, Garcia. But I'll find out. You keep a look out if he turns his phone on. Rossi and I are going back to Quantico now."

"Okay, I'll see you soon then. And keep me updated!"

"Sure thing, mama."

Click.

Rossi put away the phone and the two men walked out of the bedroom. "So now what?"

"Put out a missing person report and get people keeping a look out for him." Morgan wished there was more they could do.

"There really is no obvious sign of foul play yet."

"What more do you need?" Morgan turned angrily to his senior colleague.

Rossi nodded. "You're right. We'll go back to Quantico and get things rolling. I'll call Hotch."

As Rossi went out of the apartment, dialing their unit chief, Morgan locked the door to Reid's apartment. He stopped for a second and drew a breath.

Why is it always Reid? We'll find you, bro. Just hang tight, wherever you are.

He pulled the key from the lock and followed his colleague out to the car, and they sped off towards Quantico.

-o-o-o-

Stop… Please… Stop… I can't… Can't… No more… Please…

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