JJ sat in the living room of Agnes Burns, the mother of Nathan Burns, the UnSub's 2001 victim. Nathan had been a twenty-seven year old pre-med student from UCLA with an IQ of 179 when he was taken and murdered, his scull cut open and his brain removed. His only surviving family member was his mother. Agnes had been a fortunate find: no victim had ever been taken from Virginia – Nathan had lived and died in California – but Agnes had relocated after her son's death making her the most accessible family member of a victim.

Hotch sat beside JJ. They both waited silently and somewhat impatiently as Agnes boiled the kettle and poured them tea in the kitchen. When she returned, JJ accepted her tea with a 'thankyou' and took a small sip out of politeness.

"Why did you leave California?" Hotch asked Agnes as she took a seat opposite the two agents.

"I couldn't stay there," she said sadly. "Not after Nathan...I go back once a year – on his anniversary. I visit Detective Morgan. He was the lead investigator on Nathan's case. I check in to see how things are progressing, with the investigation." She paused. "But it's not. Progressing, that is. The police have no clue."

"Did they have any suspects at the time?" JJ asked kindly.

Agnes shook her head

"Can you tell us a little about Nathan?" Hotch asked.

"He was smart," Agnes beamed proudly. "Always the brightest in his class. He finished school a year earlier than other his age. In college he studied business, accounting, arts, literature, theology and take up medicine," she laughed softly. "So casual, he was, as if he had just decided to read a new book." Her smile faded. "He was always so proud of his smarts," her voice broke, but she quickly recovered. "It was his pride and joy. His brain was his most treasured possession. And they took it from him."

JJ couldn't help but think of Reid in that moment.

"Was Nathan dating anybody?" Hotch questioned.

Agnes shook her head. "Nathan wasn't very good with people," she admitted. "Sometimes I think it's my fault."

"I'm sure that's not true," JJ assured, shaking Reid from her thoughts.

"I was so focused on his intellectual development," Agnes explained, "making sure he had the best education, the best books, the best teachers. I was so focused on his brain that I ignored his heart. I neglected his emotional development."

JJ felt Hotch stiffen beside her.

"Did he have any friends?" JJ asked. "Any new people in his life or anyone from his past who suddenly contacted him before he went missing?"

"No, sorry."

"How about his behaviour?" Hotch jumped in, seeming to have recovered from whatever had alarmed him. "Was he different in the months before?"

"No," Agnes said. "He was spending more time on his laptop, but he had a lot of work to do."

"Do you still have the laptop?" Hotch asked.

"I still have all his things," Agnes said. "Would you like it? I haven't touched it at all since he..."

"That would be great," JJ said. "We'll give it back as soon as we're done."

"Anything that will help you find the animal that did this to my son," she paused and squinted suspiciously at them. "Why is the FBI suddenly interested anyway?"

"We think the man who did this to your son is connected to a string of murders dating back twenty years," JJ explained.

Agnes looked JJ straight in the eyes, firm and unblinking – determined.

"Bring him back home," she said. "Bring it back home."

Xxx

"Thankyou for seeing us on such short notice," Prentiss smiled at Dr. Carson.

It had been short notice. Garcia had found Rossi and Prentiss only one brain surgeon willing to speak to them within the hour of their jet landing and Doctor Emilie Carson was it. He was a stocky man – short but tough. His greying hair was cropped neatly and Rossi was reminded of his military days. Garcia had told the Rossi and Prentiss that Carson had been a brain surgeon for close to twenty years – he was the best they had and they would take him.

"Happy to help," his smile was crooked, but not at all insincere.

"Did you get the files our analyst sent you?" Rossi asked watching the doctor carefully from across the desk.

"I did," Carson pulled open a drawer in his desk and pulled out a manila folder, placing it open on his desk between him and the agents. "What is it you'd like to know?"

"What tools were used to open the skull and extract the brain?" Prentiss asked. "And what kind of person would know how to do this?"

Carson reached forward and spread the files apart so that he could see each one. He picked out a crime scene photo of Margherita LaGuerta, a 58 year old entrepreneur. The photo was taken specifically of Margherita's head, the top, above her eyes, missing.

"Are there any pictures of the top of her head?"

Prentiss shook her head. "The top was missing on all the victims," she said.

Carson grimaced but looked closer at the photo. "Here's what I can tell you," he flipped the photo over so that Rossi and Prentiss now had a view. "You see here?" he ran his index finger along the cut where Margherita's skull had been removed from the rest of her head. "This is a very crude cut, very rough and very hazardous. There would be no way of cutting this woman's skull open and removing an intact brain. This cut was most likely made with a hand-held saw, judging by the jagged cuts and bone flakes."

"That doesn't make any sense," Prentiss said. "We profiled an UnSub that would want to preserve the brain."

"I think so too," Carson said. "These crime scene photos don't show as much detail as they probably should. The photographers are focusing on the top of the head rather than close-ups of the faces."

"That's because the faces were untouched," Rossi said.

"Yeah, it looks like that from this far away," Carson said. "And you'd only notice it if you were looking for it, but check this out," he put Margherita's photo flat on the desk and pointed to a place just below her right nostril. "The skin here is raw and chafed." He pulled out another crime scene photo of a different victims from the file, and then another, and then another. "These victims have it too," he said. "All under the right nostril. The skin is red and raw."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Carson looked disgusted but continued, "that the brains were removed from the nose – post mortem."

Rossi and Prentiss sat speechless for a second.

"I'm scared to ask," Rossi muttered.

Carson took that as his cue. "It's not a method used today," he said. "Not in the past couple thousand of years at least. The ancient Egyptians used the nose as a passage to remove the brain. They would use long hooks to go up the nose canal, perforating the cribriform plate of the ethmoid bone. They would then probably liquefy the brain enough for an easy exit but so that it is still intact. Anything remaining would be scooped out with a long spoon."

Stew, Rossi resisted a shiver.

"Can I ask what the official cause of death was?" Carson asked, sensitive to the horrors of the situation but wanting to gain further insight. "Both of what was done to the head was post-mortem and the physical damage done to the body, although severe, would not result in death."

"Our analyst is still gathering the details," Prentiss nearly choked, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation she faced. Compartmentalisation be damned.

"We think it might have been an injection to the heart," Rossi informed noticing a change in Prentiss's behaviour, but putting it on the backburner. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, considering the nature of these victims – they were all geniuses, yes?" Carson pulled out a file from the folder and flicked through it. Rossi recognised it as the victims' profiles. "I don't think this is a ritualistic or religious thing."

"We had come to that conclusion as well," Prentiss said.

"I hope you don't mind me suggesting..."

"Not at all, please continue," Rossi pushed.

"Well, seems to me that this man is Obsessive Compulsive and may in fact be a genius himself," Carson said. "There has been a new movement, in the past fifty years or so, to understand the brains of geniuses. I notice that the last ten victims had Modafinil in their systems. You know that this drug can enhance cognitive function, right?" both the agents nodded and he continued. "Well I'm wondering if this suspect is experimenting on his victims?"

"But there was no sign of that."

"There was no sign of physical experimentation," Carson corrected. "We don't have any of the brains to make sure for certain though. In any case, I think he has left the brain in pristine condition. I'm actually referring to experimenting based on the theory that, given the right tools, it is possible to alter the IQ of an individual."

xxx

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I've been really sick and quite honestly couldn't be bothered doing anything. Hopefully you like this chapter enough to forgive me haha. Also, very quickly, the "medical" facts in this are probably not at all factual but for the sake of this fic, let's just believe they are. Thanks to all the reviewers: marcallie, People Person I'm Not, Annber03, Sniper, Sue1313 and tannerose5 (special thanks to you for getting me out of bed lol).

Let me know if you'd like to read more! (Oh, one more thing, should I up the rating on this?)