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Hotch POV

As soon as I ended the call with Stephenson, I called for the rest of my team, and we were back on the plane within the hour, only returning home for fresh clothes, and for me to tell Jack that I was going back out again. I swear, I needed to take some personal time with him and Beth, maybe a family day or something like that. They didn't know exactly why we were on our way back, and I was still trying to figure out how to explain it to them, without it coming off as a personal case.

Morgan drew me out of my inner musings by asking, "So, Hotch, why exactly are we headed back to Manhattan? I mean, did something go wrong with the suspect?"

I shook my head, and grimly responded, "Detective Lewis is missing."

That sparked some sort of outrage within the group, and I perfectly understood. There was something lost about that young girl, and I felt like, even though, ethically, I really shouldn't, I should be the one to help her. It was a strange fraternal feeling, booming within my chest. Whenever I looked down at her, it was strange, but I felt similar to how I would when I was with Jack.

I caught the tense and rigid posture of one Spencer Reid, and it made me raise an eyebrow. He did the usual attempt at deflection, and went back to reading whatever book he was in the middle of, but his grip was firm and uptight, almost bending the spine of the gaudy book in his hands in half. I had an inclination that there was something between the two of them, but I had no evidence, and I wasn't going to push Reid - ever since Prentiss returned, he's been a little touchy on any subject to do with 'feelings'.

The turbulence of the plane rocked us a little and Rossi tensed a little. Even though we've been using the same jet for over 4 years, he still gets testy about it. It was almost amusing, if I were being honest. I looked over at my team and I felt my heart swell with pride. We had come so far in the last 6 years and I couldn't help but smile, even given the dire situation.

Just thinking of the possibility that Lewis had been taken had my good mood vanishing, and a more serious, sombre mood to break out over my features. She might have just gone AWOL, and is spending some alone time, yet, I wasn't so sure about that. From spending so much time with her, I got the feeling that this wasn't something she would do of her own volition. I stated, in a serious and clipped tone, "I have been contacted by Captain Stephenson, and he has expressed a deep concern that Detective Lewis is being held against her will."

JJ was the first to respond, and she said, inquisitively, "Sir, how does he know? We've been gone, what? 2 hours, that's hardly enough time for someone to be considered missing."

I nodded, "I agree. I'm only even considering this as a legitimate case because Stephenson says he spoke to the alleged kidnapper."

That raised a few eyebrows, and Rossi stated, "Are we sure this isn't just some misunderstanding, Hotch?"

I nodded, once more, and said, "He sounded genuine on the phone. No odd inflections or other in his voice to indicate anything but sincerity."

He concurred in return, and went back to staring out of the nearest window. I noted idly that Reid had said nothing about the case, not even a random statistic about kidnappings. He sat there, almost in his own world, with a crease appeared in between his eyebrows. I decided to test out a theory, as I really had nothing else to do. I walked over to him, and noticed that he didn't even flinch. He was completely out of it.

I sat down opposite to him and I asked, "Reid.. Are you okay?"

He snapped out of his daydream of sorts, and quickly glanced around the room, and once his eyes landed on me, he almost sleepily replied, "Y-Yes, Hotch. Do you need anything?"

I shook my head saying no, and I enquired, "Is there something you want to talk about?"

He shook his head, more quickly than he should have if he wanted to be seen as being truthful, and he said, "Nope, nothing, nada, not at all."

I made a face of disbelief, and after a few moments of him avoiding my eye contact, I stood up and walked back over to my seat, nearest to the fridge. I quickly skimmed through the quick notes that I had sporadically taken while Stephenson had called me, and mentally face-palmed at the lack of information. This was going to be difficult to figure out, especially when the man who we're trying to work alongside with was a glory-hunting ass-wipe.

Not that I'd let anyone else know that. I just hoped that if she had been kidnapped, she stayed strong until we could get to her. Ever since I met her, there had been this instant connection. Her confidence shone through, even though she faced all that negativity every time she stepped into the headquarters.

It was obvious that her so-called team felt her an annoyance, although honestly, she was one of the only detectives I have ever seen to be able to grasp the concept of profiling in its purest form. They took her for granted, and I can guarantee that Stephenson isn't afraid for her life, but more for his job.

He was supposed to be their captain, and their team leader, he should know where every member of his team were, at any moment of the day. I knew that if there was even a sliver of a chance that any of mine were in danger, I would be all over it like white on rice - as Garcia would say.

It was people like Stephenson that angered me most. People in power taking advantage of their position, and enjoying every moment of it, until something goes wrong, and then it was suddenly someone else's problem. Idiot.

All I knew was that as soon as we found her, with the consent of Strauss and the rest of my team, I was pushing for a transfer. I wanted her on my team, and I'll be damned if I'd let Stephenson get in my way.

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