Nine: Missing Person

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Rossi slammed on the breaks and the team began to scramble out of car before it had fully stopped moving. They sprinted up the stairs at top speed, Morgan and Hotch in the lead. Nobody was at the front door; Morgan readied himself to kick down the door. Hotch put an arm out in front of Morgan... and pushed the door open. It was unlocked. They all hurried into the front room. 

The first thing they noticed were the pictures. Plastered on the walls, thrown on the floor: hundreds of pictures of Spencer. At a coffee shop, a bookstore, a subway station, walking into work, riding a bus, in his apartment-- some even taken from inside. 

They quietly stalked the place, looking for a sign of their friend. They finally made it to the bedroom. 

The room looked like nothing had happened in it-- except the fact that Spencer's gun and phone lay cracked and unloaded on the top of the bed. 

Hotch picked up the gun and examined the rim of the barrel, then looked to wall by the bedroom door. "It's been shot."

The team looked at the wall, and realized Hotch was right. A small hole was on the wall, and a small but steady trail of blood leaked from it.

Penelope picked up the phone with a paper towel, just in case there were any fingerprints. As soon as she clicked it on, she let out a shaky breath. "Oh, God, no..."

"What's wrong?" Morgan immediately looked over her shoulder at the phone. "No-- n- not again."

The team gathered around the phone.

The background was their little brother, gagged and bound, unconscious. 

Spencer Reid had been abducted. 

***********************************************************************

Garcia continued scrolling through pictures of Spencer. Usually these would make her laugh and smile. But not right now. Right now she was having to choose a picture for the missing person's file.

"Babygirl, you picked anything out yet?" Morgan shuffled over to Penelope from the rest of the group, which was quietly working on a profile, geographical profile, looking through evidence, camera footage, trying to get a DNA match on the blood on the wall and track down where the unsubs could be.

Garcia frowned deeply. "No- I know we need to get this out fast, but what if I use the wrong picture? What if they keep calling, telling us they found him- but they keep finding the wrong person? So we keep thinking he's okay! he's safe! but he's not, and we keep wasting our time while he's getting...I don't even wanna think about it-- I just can't imagine his eyes, they-- how could we let this happen?"

"Hey. I know you're worried. We all are. But people are more likely to send information about him if they know to send it. If anyone saw anything, and they see this, then we can find him faster. Nothing's going to happen to him." Morgan sadly rubbed her shoulders. 

She sighed. "Yeah, I guess so... but... this is all my fault."

"What?" Morgan leaned against the desk so he could face her. 

"How could I forget he moved? What kind of friend does that? Especially when their friend is in danger, what kind of friend forgets where their friend lives when they're in danger? Or at all!" She rambled. She was so angry with herself.

Morgan sighed. He was furious. He couldn't believe he had let this happen again, he hadn't been there for Spencer again. If Spencer even made it out alive, he would have to live with even more trauma. He hadn't even fully recovered from Tobias Hankel."Hey. You cannot go around blaming yourself for this. This isn't your fault, this isn't anybody's fault but the unsubs'. And I know you won't listen to me about this. I wouldn't listen to me either, but please try not to blame yourself. We all could have been better, we all should have paid more attention. It's okay to worry, but we all have to be at our best. We have to, for Spencer."

"Yeah... yeah, you're right." Penelope sniffled.

"There's something else, isn't there?" Morgan asked her, although he already knew the answer.

She paused, and then whispered, "Why can't we keep him safe?"

Morgan looked down at his shoes and slowly shook his head.

"I don't know, Babygirl. I don't know..."

Garcia clicked on a picture of Spencer at one of their late dinners at Rossi's.


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She reached under her glasses to wipe her eyes before a tear fell.

"I think this one."

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