Here's Chapter 2

Thank you so much for all the reviews and endearment towards my trip. I hope to have the third chapter up befor I leave Saturday.

"Las Vegas police say the burnt body of a man was found around five this morning. He was found in a bookstore near the suburban district and he was presumed as a John Doe. However, when investigators moved the body they found an FBI badge. He has now been identified as Special Agent, Dr. Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. No word on how the FBI is handling this case…."

"How did you not know?" Morgan exclaimed shutting off the TV, his eyes wild.

"Morgan, please," Prentiss said, trying to calm him down. She looked at Hotch Both agents froze.

Hotch stood staring at the black screen. Silent. He couldn't hear Morgan screaming at him. He could only hear an annoying ringing in his ears. He swallowed, closing his eyes as they burned. It can't be. H-He just called me last night. He can't be-. He took a deep, shaken breath and turned away from them. He didn't say anything. He couldn't. He turned towards his office, his legs heavy. He stumbled halfway to the stairs.

"What's going on?" Morgan hissed at Prentiss, both of them watching their leader push himself up the stairs.

JJ had watched the scene from her office and hurried down the stairs after Hotch collapsed in his office chair, not even bothering to close his door all the way. She looked between Prentiss and Morgan, a quizzical look on her face. "What happened?"

The press played the report all over the country on the same channel. Every TV sounded the same crushing message everywhere it was turned to. Even a small TV with antennae pointed towards a grimy, basement window played it to its lone listener.

Small shards of sun broke through into the concrete room. Besides that it was dark.

The walls were stained. The air was damp and dank. Besides the TV, there was a cabinet beside it with the doors padlocked, a steel door without a handle, and a chair with a limp figure. The figure was that of a tall, slender man. A sack was tied tightly at his neck and hid his face. His hands were tied behind him. He was shackled to the chair.

The news reel finished and the man groaned, lifting his head and froze. He turned frantically, jerking forward, grunting as the ropes dug into his wrists. He jerked his legs forward and cried out when the cold metal slammed against his lower shin. He hissed and swallowed, looking down towards the concrete floor, although all he saw was burlap.

The metal door creaked open and three men walked in. They stopped just before the pale light, letting only their silhouettes give them away. One of the shadows stood taller than the others, with broader shoulders. The other two were roughly the same height and built, although one seemed slighter.

"Who's there?" The prisoner demanded, trying to sound brave although his voice was a few octaves higher than normal.

"Hush, Agent," One of the shorter men said, his voice full of mirth. "The dead are not meant to speak."

The larger of the three chuckled. The last one made no sound.

"Dead?"

"Did you not see?" The first man said, walking around the light to stand behind his captive. "Your body was found. You're supposed to be dead. It's all over the news."

The captive swallowed audibly. He could not think of anything witty to say and decided to stay silent. The same man laughed as did the larger one. Again, besides the footsteps from their entrance, there was no evidence to the prisoner of the third man.

"Don't worry about the 'lie' part, Doctor. It won't be one for much longer."

The footsteps faded and the metal door slammed shut. The captive shivered and turned around, finding where there was a source of light coming to him. He swallowed again, his heart sinking. Aaron thinks I'm dead….

"Oh, no." JJ whispered, her hand covering her lips as tears brimmed her eyes. "No, not Spence…."

Morgan had collapsed in Prentiss's chair and sat hunched over her desk, arms on the table as he stared at the files they were supposed to be working on. His expression was no longer outraged. It was blank.

Prentiss leaned on the Morgan's desk, staring up towards the entrance as though waiting for Reid to walk in and say it was some sick joke from him or the media or some unsub trying to get their attention. She swallowed. The tension was suffocating.

JJ trembled, hugging herself. "It's not possible." She whispered, staring into space. "He was getting to be so happy again." She turned towards Hotch's office, seeing their leader sitting at his desk, looking broken, his hands covering his face as he hunched over his desk.

"Why was he in Las Vegas, anyways?" Morgan grumbled. On any other day, it would have been a protective growl, but he did not seem to have the strength to raise his voice.

"It's his mom's birthday," JJ replied, sighing and reaching for a tissue off of Reid's abandoned desk. "He wanted to spend it with her."

"What I don't understand is why the FBI wasn't notified before the press aired." Prentiss said, still staring towards the elevators through the glass doors.

JJ looked up at Prentiss looking at her confused. "You're right. They're supposed to."

Prentiss turned towards her, looking at her calculating expression. JJ whipped around and headed out of the bullpen, towards the elevators, walking in quick strides.

Morgan glanced towards the closing doors and brought his eyes to look at Hotch through the window of his office. "I'm surprised Hotch is taking this so hard." Morgan muttered, bringing himself to sit up straighter.

Prentiss glanced at Hotch's crushed form to Morgan and swallowed, staying quiet.

Hotch's legs had given up on him as he rounded his desk. He fell into his chair. He swallowed, his hands shaking violently. He clenched his fist, his heart stopping. He could barely breathe. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hurt something. However, he sat, staring at Reid's leave request. He wanted to yell at it as though it were to blame. His lips parted and he let out a sob.

Tears ran down his face. He took a shaken breath, his body trembling. He pushed his face into his hands, blocking everything out. He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't.

"What did I do?" He whispered, choking on his own voice. "Why? Why?"

Chapter 2- End