Reid slept like a log until around 2pm the next day. When he woke up his mind felt clearer and sharper than it had in a long time. It surprised him to realise just how much sleep deprivation had slowed down his thoughts now that they were back to normal.

His head hurt like the devil and his mouth was dry, but apart from that he felt pretty normal. He sat up and swung his feet onto the pastel-pink carpeted floor. He realised with a small measure of alarm that he wasn't wearing pants, and that instead of his pyjama shirt he was wearing Morgan's grey hooded sweater. He saw the matching grey tracksuit bottoms over the back of a chair and put them on, and then wandered downstairs into the living room where the TV was on, showing a football game.

"Hey." Morgan looked up. "How're you feeling?"

"Nnng." Reid mumbled. His hair was mussed over his face but he couldn't be bothered to move it.

Morgan chuckled. "You look like you could use a coffee."

Reid's face brightened slightly and he nodded.

"Well too bad." Morgan grinned evilly. "Young says no more caffeine. It might make your brain go skewy again."

Reid groaned. "Can I at least have some water?"

"I think I can allow that." Morgan grinned and got to his feet. "Sit down, I'll get it."

Reid obeyed gladly.

A few minutes later Morgan came out of the kitchen with a glass of water. He gave it to Reid and sat down beside him. Reid nodded his thanks and drank the whole thing in one go. Morgan saw him rubbing his forehead and grimacing, and was concerned.

"You got a headache? Do you want me to get you some painkillers for that?" he asked.

Reid shook his head. "Uh no thanks, it's probably just dehydration since I've been out for so long. I know it's just aspirin but I don't want to take any painkillers unless I have to."

Morgan nodded. "Oh right."

Reid smiled awkwardly. "So um…what exactly happened last night? I sort of remember parts of it, but it's kind of blurry. For instance I'm not sure how I ended up wearing your clothes…"

Morgan chuckled dirtily "Well now, there's a story." He smirked.

Reid rolled his eyes, his cheeks reddening slightly. He still hadn't got used to these feelings he had about Morgan, and though he could push it to the back of his mind when they were talking, he still felt awkward.

"Well, around 1am I found you out in the snow in your pyjamas. Like literally you weren't even wearing shoes. I called Young and he came over, and Prentiss followed him. Prentiss went to get you some dry clothes but she must have picked up mine instead."

Reid nodded, his face expressionless.

"You were kind of talking but some of what you were saying was a little weird and didn't quite make sense."

"Weird how?" Reid raised his eyebrows and looked alarmed.

"Uhh…I dunno. Like you talked about when you were a kid and you felt like you were different to everybody else. You said the other kids gave you a hard time, called you Robot Boy, and they thought you didn't feel anything, but you were just hiding the pain."

"Oh." Reid said quietly. He started biting the sides of his fingers.

"Do you have any idea why that was on your mind last night?" Morgan asked gently.

Reid shook his head. He suddenly looked kind of far away.

Morgan touched his shoulder softly. "Reid."

Reid looked up at him. "Hmm?"

"Young said…sometimes schizophrenia messes with your temperature controls, and that could explain why you wanted to lie down in the snow." Morgan said hesitantly. "But I couldn't help thinking…I dunno. That maybe you were trying to…or hoping that it would…" he tailed off.

Reid frowned and looked down at his hands which were fidgeting in his lap. For a moment he didn't reply.

"There's no shame in it if you were." Morgan said gently. "You've been through a hell of a lot recently, it's perfectly understandable if…you know. You got overwhelmed by it all."

"I don't…" Reid looked confused. "I don't know. I just remember lying in bed so tired and uncomfortable and I just…I knew I couldn't stand feeling like that for another day. It's impossible to describe…I was so desperate to sleep, but I couldn't and I felt like there was no way out."

His voice cracked slightly just talking about it.

"So I guess it's…possible, that I was trying to commit suicide. But I wasn't me at that time. I don't have any memory of what I did, so I can't say for sure." Reid shrugged uncomfortably.

A cold shudder went through Morgan's body.

"But you don't feel that way now." he confirmed anxiously.

"No!" Reid reassured him with a smile. "I don't want to die. The idea terrifies me."

Morgan gave a relieved smile.

"Good. Cause gorgeous as I am, this team wouldn't meet its prettiness quota without you in it as well."

Reid laughed and shook his head. There was a short silence.

"So uh…what exactly did Young give me? That was strong stuff."

"Temazepam. 10 milligrams."

Reid looked puzzled. "I asked Young and he said because of my history, benzodiazepines were off limits except for emergencies."

Morgan looked at him incredulously.

"What the hell did you think he meant by 'emergency'?" He asked, laughing.

Reid raised his eyebrows and looked sheepish.

"Oh…" he said.

"Exactly." Morgan ruffled his hair. He then stood up and headed for the kitchen. "Now come on kiddo, you've been asleep for like 12 hours, we need to feed you!" He called behind him.

"Agreed." Reid laughed and followed him through to the kitchen.

After they'd munched their way through about four bacon sandwiches each, the conversation turned back to the case.

"Has Hotch told you how it's all going?" Reid asked, sliding their plates and last night's pans and dishes into the sink and turning on the hot tap.

Morgan grimaced and shook his head. "Not good apparently. They found out that he definitely used an axe from the woodcutting station, and that he cleaned it in the water feature in the reception area, but the rest of the forensics are a little confusing."

"Confusing how?" Reid frowned, misjudging the pressure of his squeeze and squirting far too much dish soap into the sink, releasing a couple of small bubbles into the air.

Morgan couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping and Reid responded with a good-humoured pout.

"Don't laugh at me. The design of this bottle is totally flawed."

"You don't cook much for yourself do you?" Morgan guessed with a smile. "What, do you live on microwave meals and takeaways?"

Reid smiled and started washing a greasy pan. "Pretty much. It's kept me alive for this long, so…"

"I'm not judging." Morgan laughed. "But uh…you should wash the pans last, otherwise the plates get greasy. Fill them with water and leave them on the side to soak." He suggested.

"Oh right." Reid took the pan back out. "I never realised this required so much forward planning." He started washing a bowl. "I guess…it would have been nice to learn, but there never seemed to be much point when there was only me to cook for. Maybe my mom could have taught me before I went to college like everybody else, except I was sixteen when I went to college and she wasn't well enough I guess."

Morgan watched his friend's back, thinking about how different Reid's life had been to his. Sure he'd been screwed up to hell by Carl Buford, but he'd always had a mom to come home to and though he fought like cat and dog with both his sisters, he knew they always had his back. If he'd been born into Reid's life, he didn't know how he would have made it to adulthood without hating the world.

He stood up, picked up a dish towel and took the clean bowl from Reid. Reid smiled at him and they stood in companionable silence, looking out at the falling snow.

"Oh, you were saying, about the forensics?" Reid remembered suddenly.

"Right. They found out what was written on the wall. Turns out it was in Ukrainian."

Reid looked surprised. "But we ruled out Kurkov. Why would he write a message in their blood if he didn't kill them?"

Morgan shrugged. "I have no idea. His wife is Ukrainian too though."

"That makes no sense. We analysed the DNA from the glass he drank from with the first female victim, that was male DNA. And the person I bumped into was a man. What did the message say?"

"Roughly translated it meant 'she'll be mine for eternity'." Morgan said.

Reid raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Poetic."

"But not very helpful."

"It's interesting that the message doesn't seem to be for the woman he's describing."

"Who do you think it was meant for? The police?" Morgan asked.

"Well he has taunted us before."

Morgan nodded. Reid pulled the plug and rinsed his hands before drying them on a dish towel. He took the dry dishes from the draining board and put them away.

"It looks like we're going to have to use Prentiss and Young after all." Reid said grimly.

"They'll be fine. Prentiss knows what she's doing and Young…well Young isn't totally useless." Morgan smiled to cover up his own worry.

"I know, but something just doesn't feel right about all this. He's managed to get to six people and take them without anyone seeing a thing, he paraded his victims for everyone to see at the ball and then he walks casually into a high security event, picks up an axe and slaughters four more people, again without being seen. He's one of the slipperiest unsubs we've ever encountered. We're putting Young and Prentiss in real danger here."

"You need to trust that they know what they're doing. This bastard won't get away again, we'll make sure of that." Morgan said determinedly.

"Well then…they're going to need all the help they can get." Reid said meaningfully.

"…"

Reid folded his arms.

Morgan sighed. "I'll call Hotch."

...

Having heard from Morgan that Reid was better, Hotch agreed to allow them back on the case. They drove up to the hotel and were met by officer Jarvis who took them to a meeting room where Hotch, JJ, and Rossi were looking through stacks of files on the overly large black mirrored table. All three looked tired and dishevelled, and stacks of empty coffee cups littered the table.

Hotch looked up and greeted them. "Hey. Good to see you're feeling better." He told Reid.

"Thanks." Reid nodded.

"So where we at right now?" Morgan asked.

"We're trying to figure out how to arrange it so that Prentiss and Young are the most available couple to the unsub, without making it too obvious."

"We asked the police to make a point of removing all presence from around the lake, so the unsub has his dumping ground back." JJ said. "Apart from that we're finding it hard to think of a way to do this." She sighed.

"How can we justify putting the guests back out in their cabins when there's a killer out there?" Morgan asked.

"By telling them we have him in custody." Reid said suddenly. "We just fake an arrest and say the guests are safe to go back to their cabins. An unsub like this will definitely be following the investigation. Seeing the police get it wrong will hopefully make him over-confident and more likely to make a mistake."

"We can't lie to the public. Not when we can't guarantee this psycho won't go after somebody else like he did to that family." JJ shook her head.

"What choice do we have?" Morgan snapped. "If we don't trap the bastard he's going to get away, and who knows how many more people are gonna die?"

"The profile indicates that Prentiss and Young will be his next targets. They match his victimology exactly." Reid told her. She didn't look very reassured.

They argued around in circles for hours, came up with new plans and then tore them to shreds. They went over the profile with a fine-tooth comb and worked out every single detail about the man's relationships and psychological profile. They went through the risks and benefits of every possible action one thousand times. The atmosphere was different to normal, more strained. Everyone was exhausted and aspects of this case were so personal that being objective was damn near impossible when their friends could be in danger.

Eventually they came to the conclusion that the fake arrest plan was the only way they could possibly catch him, and time was running out. They made some calls and Hotch gave them their orders and then they split up.

...

Morgan was heading to the exit when he bumped into John Wotton, the teacher he and Reid had spoken to at the Gathering the night before.

"Hey." He said. The older man turned around and gave him a charming smile. He was breathing slightly heavily like he'd been in a hurry and his hair was sticking up a little at the back like he'd been running his fingers through it.

"Hi there! If you're not too busy could you help me with something?" Wotton asked, holding his gaze for several seconds longer than your average heterosexual man generally felt comfortable with.

"Sure. What do you need?" Morgan smiled back at him.

Man…if I'd had teachers like that when I was a kid, I'd probably be a brain surgeon by now. He thought to himself.

"I just wondered if you'd seen the boy you saw me with yesterday, Winston?" he sounded a little harassed.

"Sorry, I haven't. Has he been gone for long?" Morgan really was sorry. For some reason he really wanted to help.

"I asked him to meet with me an hour ago. He's probably tucked up in a corner somewhere listening to his iPod and drawing. That boy…I've taught some difficult kids in my time but that one…he just doesn't care about anyone except himself! He lies about me and he steals from me, he fights with all the other kids and I just don't know how to get through to him!" he said exasperatedly.

"Oh." Morgan said, a little taken aback. The boy had seemed sulky and bad tempered but not exactly rebellious. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh…don't worry. It's just frustrating as a teacher to see a kid throw away their potential. He's already on so many warnings, I had to pull a lot of strings to even get the school to allow him on this trip, he's such a walking disaster that no teacher wants to be responsible for him. Well…except for this one idiot I guess." He gave a wry smile.

"He's very lucky to have you." Morgan said warmly.

Suddenly the janitor's closet to their left snorted. Wotton's head snapped towards the noise.

"Alright Winston, game's up." He shouted.

There was a heavy sigh and then the kid poked his head round the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked snippily.

"Yes you can, by stopping all this messing around." The teacher said through gritted teeth. "That thing you promised to do won't do itself now will it?"

"Maybe it should go do itself." The kid muttered.

"That's enough!" Wotton snapped. "You know the rules."

He turned to Morgan. "Thanks for your help. Fancy meeting for a drink later on? I could use some adult company." He smiled in a kind of flirty way.

Morgan was a little caught off guard. This invitation put him in an awkward position. If his gaydar was functioning properly and he was being hit on then there was no way he could accept, it would be unprofessional. But if he was wrong and the guy was just being friendly then…well it might be kind of nice to hang out with someone outside the team for a night.

"Oh…uh…well yeah that would be great, but I'm not sure I can make it tonight 'cause of work. Tomorrow would probably be okay though." He said finally, wondering why Winston was glaring at the floor from behind his black fringe. He was evidently not a happy kid.

"Oh we're leaving tomorrow morning." He said disappointedly. "Well I'll be at the Masked Ball tonight with the other teachers from around seven." He smiled and lowered his voice so Winston wouldn't hear him. "Or my room number is 203 if you'd prefer a more intimate setting."

Yup definitely being hit on. Morgan knew he should politely turn him down but somehow despite thinking 'no thanks' what he actually said was;

"Well…how could I refuse an offer like that?"

The teacher gave him a smirk. "See you later then. If your work allows it."

Morgan nodded, his heart thumping in his chest uneasily. He didn't know if he was ready to go back to that way of life yet. It hadn't exactly been a conscious decision. But…it had been a long time and there was just something about Wotton which he found attractive. Maybe no strings attached was the best way for him to get back on the horse. So to speak.

He needed some uncomplicated fun after the shit he'd been through recently. And Wotton was leaving the morning after so it would definitely be uncomplicated.

And he didn't have to decide right now whether he would actually turn up or not.

...

It was around nine pm, Prentiss and Young were at the Winter Wonderland Masked Ball and Prentiss had already found out the hard way that Young was a terrible dancer. Her toes suffered from this especially, and they were already having a tough time already, being wedged into a pair of bright red high heels which Hotch had ordered for her along with the dress, which seemed specifically designed to be the most uncomfortable things on the planet for anyone with a normal number of toes. They were very sexy though, as was the dress. She hadn't had an opportunity to wear clothes like this in a long time.

"OW FUCK, ADAM," she yelled over the music. "Adam I really need to sit down!"

Young nodded and helped her hobble over to their linen table-clothed table near the back of the function room, which was now free of beds after the very publicised 'arrest' of the hotel manager in connection to the murders. There hadn't been much time to decorate but the hotel staff had done themselves proud. All the guests were heartily celebrating the serial killer's incarceration in style, with many a cheerful toast.

Prentiss collapsed into a chair and slid the shoes off to discover that she had blisters on her heels and baby toes.

"Why do women spend a fortune on shoes that don't even function properly as shoes? The least I expect from a shoe is to be able to walk in them." Young tutted.

She glared at him through her black sequinned cat shaped eye mask. "Hotch ordered them, not me. I think he got my size wrong though, these aren't even that high and my own highest stilettos haven't given me this much pain."

She rubbed her feet and winced.

"Do you want to leave?" Young asked.

She shook her head. "We can't. He doesn't attack them in their homes so it's got to be here. I'll be alright."

Young got down on one knee and began to massage her feet. "Never fear Princess Prentiss, your Prince Charming will heal you with his loving touch." He grinned up at her.

"Stop that you idiot." She snapped somewhat half-heartedly, since it actually did help quite a lot.

"Can't. It's my duty as your loving husband, remember?" Young chuckled, switching feet. "Plus it's partly my fault for treading on you so much."

"I half thought you were doing it on purpose. I didn't realise it was possible for somebody to dance that badly. It was like you couldn't even hear the rhythm." She laughed.

Young sighed. "Yeah…my rhythm isn't very good. Neither is my balance. I used to be able to…" he cut himself off and shook his head. "I'm sorry." He said softly.

She was surprised that he didn't make a defensive joke or a sarcastic remark.

"Can you dance barefoot? Or would you prefer to stay sitting?" Young asked.

She shook her head. "I can't stay barefoot when we might be put in a situation where we have to run for our lives. But running in these would be worse. I think I'll go back to the cabin and get another pair."

"I'll come with you." Young said, sounding unenthusiastic about venturing outside into the cold dark night.

"No, you stay. It's not far and I have my gun strapped to my leg, so I'll be fine. If you came with me I'd have to protect you too." Prentiss assured him. "Go and stay with Hotch and the others so you don't get yourself kidnapped or anything."

He sighed. "I'm starting to feel like I'm the princess in this relationship."

She laughed and stood up. "Be quiet and hold my purse until I get back sweetheart."

"You know, some women in this situation would deliberately try to make me feel emasculated. I'm so glad that isn't an issue between us." Young said sarcastically, holding her red and black polka dotted purse between finger and thumb at arm's length, like it was the tail of a dead fish.

She smiled at that before she could stop herself, and he smiled back, because she was pretty when she wasn't yelling at him.

Prentiss realised as she walked out of the door that she had started to enjoy fighting with Young. Just a tiny bit mind. He still wasn't boyfriend material at all though. Morgan was wrong about that.

Prentiss buttoned her black furry-hooded coat, to keep out the biting wind. She hid her gun in her pocket, keeping her hand on it the whole time. She was glad of the strong moonlight and outdoor lamps to see by. She would never admit it to Young, but she was a little freaked out now she was out here alone. She wished she had asked one of the team to accompany her, but part of her had wanted to show off to Young. It was a nice feeling, having someone admiring you, and it was one that as a woman, she often didn't get from men since mostly they were so reluctant to be overshadowed by a woman.

She was around half way when she heard a rustle and saw a shadow move through a gap in the trees next to the path. She stopped dead. She strained her ears and searched the trees for movement with her eyes, heart pounding.

Another rustle.

She took the gun out slowly and flipped the safety off.

The shadow moved closer. And…