Summary: My very first Criminal Minds fic! And my very second ever fanfiction! ;) A Reid-centric casefic. Takes place around seasons 3-4, in a slightly AU, slightly wobbly timeline. I know it's a popular idea, but here's my version of the Reid and His Father rewrite, as the canon episodes with Reid's dad just never did it for me. I tried to keep everyone in character and the premise plausible, and I think this version of Reid's past is consistent with the show and character. Rated T for language, for allusions to pedophilia (nothing graphic), and because I loves me some whumpage (this is mostly emotional whumpage, but there's some physical whumping coming too). Please note that this is not Beta-ed, but I did my best as far as editing goes. And of course, I own nothing. Nothing.

Nothing.

Prologue

The little boy adjusted his glasses. They were too big for him. As were his teeth. And his feet. And his knees. He was in one of those awkward stages of growth in which some parts of him seemed to be outpacing others.

The man thought he was perfect.

The little boy trotted past the park regulars, their chess battles spread out in front of them in black and white on the painted stone benches. Between moves they wiped sweat from their brows. Under the hot Las Vegas sun, the little boy brushed his own over-long hair away from his sticky face, and wondered if he could beat them. He liked chess. He didn't have time right now though; his mother needed him at home.

The man watched the sunlight as it turned the boy's lank brown curls into radiant gold, lighting his head like a halo. He wondered in awe at the purity of the perfect creature.

The little boy stumbled. He was a bit clumsy and uncoordinated. He dropped his books, a stack of tomes from the library much more advanced than one would expect in the hands of the average nine year old, but he loved to read. He got it from his mother, they always said.

The man reveled in the boy's brilliance. He looked too small and slight to even lift all those books! He was special, that one.

The little boy dug a rock out of his shoe and hitched his mismatched socks. The man knew he couldn't wait anymore. It had to be today. It had to be now. He jogged across the park towards the boy, and outpaced him quickly, running round in front of him and stopping in his path. The little boy looked up at the looming figure of the man. He shielded his eyes from the blinding sunlight to try to make out the man's face.

"Hey kiddo!" said the man. "You're gonna get a sunburn. Why don't you let me give ya a lift home?"

Across the park, Benny Torres looked up from his rook, shaded the sunlight from his squinting eyes, and watched as a tall man led a little boy away down the path. "Hey, Keith," he said, "Didn't that kid checkmate you in seven moves last week?"
"Fuck you, Benny," said Keith, but when he turned to look over his shoulder it was with a smile.

CMCM

LVPD Chief Augustus Herrera looked solemnly around the park from the spot where the missing child was last seen. Two park regulars who had been playing chess at the time of the abduction had reported seeing him here with a tall, white male in a blue button-up shirt, but the distance was too far and the sun too bright for a better description.

The sun was lower now, and Herrera caught a glint of orange reflecting off something in the parched grass. He knelt and retrieved a laminated Las Vegas Public Library card, "WOODS, CHARLES" printed across the top.

They had twenty-two hours. He slid his thumb over the name. Twenty-two hours before virtually all hope of finding little Charlie Woods alive was gone. Herrera radioed Detective Vargas, "I want the FBI on this. Get me Agent Jennifer Jareau at the BAU. We're going to find this kid."