Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.

The moment she woke up, she knew something was off. The maternal instinct her roared at full blast telling her that something had happened to her child- to Spencer. Quickly rolling out of bed, her eyes darted towards the window. Light shone through the curtains and the birds were chirping obnoxiously. Another dart towards the calendar on her wall (bless her son, it would never be on the right month with the days crossed out without him) told her it was Saturday. The only thing Spencer did on Saturday's was keep her company.

Wrapping her bathrobe tightly around her thin frame, Diana quickly raced out of bedroom and made a beeline for her son's. It was only open a crack, but she had to force herself back from slamming it open. Thoughts flooded her mind as panic set in. What if he wasn't inside? What if someone snatched him away while she was asleep? Another pervert after her baby? The government? Of course! It had to be them! Only those sick bastards would snatch a beautiful child like hers-

No. Stop. We. Are. Not. Doing. This. Today. Diana firmly thought as she got her breathing under control. It was an exercise she sometimes used to battle the paranoia. It didn't work very often but today it made the panic mute.

Steeling herself, feeling dread rise inside her heart (a mother knows when something is off, even when she hasn't seen her child) she carefully, silently, opened the door. Stepping in, she sighed in relief when she saw Spencer huddle on his bed, his face lax in sleep.

Then she saw his wrist hanging off the bed.

The panic came back full force and almost choked her.

With soft steps and the tact to avoid the creaky spots in the floorboards, she made it to his bedside. She dropped to her knees and carefully held a tiny wrist that was red and raw from rope burns. She bit back her anger at the sight of some dried blood speckled about the burn.

"My poor baby," Diana mumbled softly, "Who would do such a horrible thing to you?" She asked as she caressed the wound lightly, with the child-like hope that it would heal completely from her touch.

Immediately, Spencer drew his arm into his chest and curled into a fetal position. His sleeping face scrunched up and he began to mumble.

"I'm sorry…please, don't touch me. . .no! My clothes, please give them back, please. . . I'm not a freak. . .not a freak. . .not the goal post. . ." The twelve year old mumbled almost hysterically as tears leaked out from his closed lids and onto his pillow.

Diana choked back her own tears as she finally saw Spencer's bruised face up close. Wiping away his tears, she sang an old lullaby to him. At the sound of her voice, Spencer fell back into a more peaceful sleep and she was glad for it. Her child was very shy and she knew he would have been embarrassed to have been caught crying by her, despite her being his mother.

Careful not the wake her son, she left the room and went to the kitchen to start breakfast. She tisked slightly to herself as she took in what they could eat. The milk and eggs were both expired and it seemed that Spencer only purchased things with high amounts of sugar. Not surprising, Diana thought with a smile, he may be a genius but he was still a kid.

Still, today, her baby was getting a nutritious breakfast! Today was going to be good day, she could already feel it. Today, without a shadow of a doubt, she was going to stay lucid. Today, she said to herself as she showered, Schizophrenia can go fuck itself.

The trip the grocery store was easier than she thought it would be. She kept expecting her pesky illness to show up, but it was surprisingly quiet today. It must have gotten her message.

Good.

It was only after she came back home that a frown came upon her face. On the porch of the house was Spencer's backpack looking worse for wear. That wasn't there before. She thought, and prodded it with her foot. She didn't hear any ticking, so if it had a bomb in it then it was a dud. Groceries in one arm, she picked up the red backpack and unlocked the door to. Quickly checking to make sure Spencer was still asleep, she put away the food and turned back to examine the backpack that now sat on her kitchen table.

It looked like it had been on a wild ride. One of the straps was completely torn off; it was caked with mud and littered with holes. Spencer would have never let his backpack become so destroyed. He was always careful with his possessions. The fact that it was stuffed full was not lost on Diana. She slowly unzipped it, not knowing what to expect but knowing she wouldn't like it.

The first thing to come out was a tiny slip of paper that had been ripped out of a notebook:

Here's your stuff back, fag.

It broke Diana's heart.

The other things had been Spencer's clothes-wait, didn't he wear that yesterday? Diana couldn't be a hundred percent sure but she suspected the answer was yes. That would mean that her boy had been forced to walk home naked.

Anger was beginning to build at alarming rate.

His clothes were no longer wearable. Not only were they ripped in embarrassing places, they also had cruel, hurtful, untrue words painted on them in bright pink. His books had been ripped to shreds, with several pages sharpied out and rendered completely useless. At the very bottom was another note:

Just die.

She didn't scream in a rage, but a hiss of breath fled through her clenched teeth as she wiped away angry tears. Quickly stuffing the items in a garbage bag (she would never let him see this, never), Diana set it outside for the garbage man to pick up. Glancing at the clock, she started on breakfast. She needed time to think.

Putting a frying pan on the stove top, she turned up the temperature and began gathering the ingredients she would need to make scrambled eggs and toast. All the while, she thought of what she had discovered. Her boy was being bullied; that much was obvious, but she had never known how deep it truly ran. Thinking back on the Spencer's nightmare, she knew that he was reliving what had happened yesterday.

Guilt surged inside her belly like an raging beast. Yesterday, she hadn't even known the correct time. Yesterday, she had been living in a world where she was still a teacher. Yesterday, Chaucer had been her best friend.

Yesterday, her child was severely humiliated and probably didn't make it home till late. And where was she? Having the time of her life in a place that only existed in her head. Days like this made her want to call child services. She wasn't stupid; she knew she was unfit to raise her son. More often than not Spencer was taking care of her. But then she would imagine his brown eyes filling up with tears as some stranger took him away, leaving her in some decrepit mental institution. His pain, his confusion, she need only imagine it and that stopped any calls that should have been made. Spencer's confidence took a beating when William left without a word.

Forcing him to be taken away against his will would be beyond cruel.

Still, she needed to figure out what happened Friday. From the clues given, she knew Spencer had been tied down-possibly a football goal post if his dreams were real. He'd been stripped, roughed up, called terrible name and was forced to walk home naked. Diana wondered if they had even untied him or if he had had to untie himself. It would explain the blood on his wrists.

"What are you doing?" A sleepy voice asked behind her. Smiling at the sound of Spencer's slightly slurred speech she turned to look at him. Her smile faded when she saw white bandages peeking out between the sleeves of his pajamas as he rubbed his eyes. So he was trying to hide it from her.

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to, Spencer." She chided him gently as he came closer to investigate what was being cooked.

"An egg's caloric ratio is 3% carbs, 62% fats, and 35% protein. It's a good source of riboflavin, vitamin B12 and phosphorus, as well as selenium, but it's high in saturated fat, and cholesterol." Spencer told her as she sat two plates with scrambled eggs and toast onto the kitchen table.

"It's amazing what your mind can remember." Diana told him with a smile as she kissed his forehead. She was not the kind of person who enjoyed being touch and that trait had been passed onto Spencer. Today, though, both seemed content to lean into each other.

"Spencer, why do you have bandages on your wrists? Did you get hurt?" She asked casually, not looking up from her food. She did glance up when she heard a fork clatter and took in her son's panicked expression.

"Well, um, it's . . .fashion! Yes, apparently putting bandages on your wrists is the newest trend." Good Lord, her son was a terrible liar. But she decided to play along for the moment.

"I never knew you were into fashion." She watched with a slight smile as Spencer's triumphant face at making what he thought was a believable lie fell once again. His eyes darted back and forth before they lit up.

"It's a social experiment I'm conducting. I want to see how other people will treat this trend and the only hands on way is to become a part of the trend itself. I could observe others, but I think this method will give me more reliable data." He stated easily and Diana changed her opinion. His lies started out bad but, once he was able to flesh them out, they became more believable.

"And the bruise on your cheek?" Diana asked, wondering what he would come up with.

"Dodgeball at school. Someone's aim was off and they hit my face instead of my chest." This time he didn't even bat an eyelid.

"Was it a friend?" His eyes came up in surprise.

"What?"

"Was it a friend that hit you?" She expanded. "In my days of school dodgeball, the coaches seemed insistent that friends were always on opposite teams. I think they enjoyed seeing the polar reactions. Some refused to even throw the ball at their friends, while others practically salivated at the thought."

"No, it was someone I didn't know." He responded quietly, his brown eyes resting sadly on the table. Diana almost stopped the pretending then and there. Almost told him what she knew and almost asked him what she needed to know.

No, that will only make him clam up. Steeling her resolve, she continued on. She had a plan and hopefully it would work.

"I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your friends. That I can recall anyway. You know how forgetful I can be." She winked at him and he gave her a weak smile in return.

"Well there're two girls, Alexa and Harper. They're both really nice. They want to be scientists when they go to college. And then there's Greg. He's a lineman on the football team. He wants to be an engineer. He gets my lunch in the cafeteria sometimes if it's too crowded so I don't get trampled. Jack Trulie is pretty laid back. He's always strumming a tune on his guitar. He hasn't really talked about the future but I think he wants to go into the music industry." On the surface, most would take what Spencer was saying at face value, but Diana wasn't just anybody. She was his mother and she used to be a teacher. The fact that he didn't even bother to describe their physical features was a dead giveaway. Spencer probably didn't even realize it, but he used the same basic pattern to describe his 'friends' : This is (name), they are (blank), they want to be (blank).

The fact that his voice grew softer as he continued didn't help him.

"They sound nice." Diana said, "What do you do together?"

"Study. Goof off. Silly things." He replied with short, choppy sentences.

"Has Greg taught you any football moves?" She winced inwardly at her question. It was cruel but she needed a reaction to confirm her suspicions.

"Yeah." Spencer's voiced cracked as he moved out of his chair and put his half-eaten breakfast in the sink.

"Spencer? Is something wrong?" Of course something's wrong! Not even the brightest lights in Vegas could outshine the fact the Spencer doesn't have any friends. And here you are, practically forcing him to make them up. The most sickening part is that he's doing it so you won't worry. She thought bitterly.

"Everything's fine, mom. I'm just really glad you're coherent today." He said softly, as he took her own plate to the sink. Even now he was trying to be the adult.

"But your voice—"

"Puberty. I had to start sometime." He said, cutting her off. "I'm going to take a shower, ok?"

"Alright, Spencer." Diana would never admit it, but the puberty remark impressed her a little. It was a good save on Spencer's part.

"Do you need—" This time it was her turn to cut him off.

"I think I can handle myself for 15 minutes Spencer." She told him dryly. He nodded once before leaving the kitchen.

Hearing the water beginning to flow through the pipes, Diana broke her act, put her head in her hands and wept for her child. Oncer her grief ran its course, she allowed her bitterness and anger to take control of her heart and began to form a plan.

She was going to find them. She was going to find the people who hurt her child so badly and she was going to make them pay.

Somebody - God, the government, an alien mothership - was on Diana Reid's side today. After Spencer got out of the shower and changed, he sheepishly informed her that he needed to stop by the school library to pay for some books he had lost. Her mind immediately flashed to the books in the backpack.

"I'll go with you." One of the things that made Las Vegas High unique was the fact that it had one of the largest libraries in the district. The school even made sure that the library was open on Saturdays incase students needed to study at the last minute. It was the main reason Spencer chose to go there.

"Are you sure?" Spencer asked, adjusting his glasses.

"I've never been inside your school before, though I imagine it's like all other public schools: a prison." Diana said breezily as she grabbed her keys and headed out the front door, Spencer following closely behind.

The drive was nice. Spencer filled the quiet with his soft chattering as he spewed random facts based on what he saw outside his window. Most would be annoyed, but Diana soaked it up the way only a mother could.

There were a few cars in the parking lot as she pulled in but not too many. Good. Crowds made her nervous, which made Spencer nervous and that was not something that either needed today.

Taking her by the hand, Spencer gently pulled her into the school telling her about its history, the population of students, and how the budget was doing this year.

"Spencer, go on ahead. I need to use the ladies." Diana told him, taking her hand out of his.

Spencer stopped babbling; his face became worried almost instantaneously.

"But you don't know where the library—"

"I can read the signs." She informed him. "I'll be fine. I haven't drowned in a toilet yet." She told him and his eyes gained an amused glint, but still held anxiety.

"If you're sure. . ." He trailed off.

"Spencer," Diana said firmly. "Go. I will meet up with you."

He gave her one last look before nodding. She watched as he turned a corner and waited a few moments to make sure he didn't come back to check on her before she began to move.

"That boy should put some of that overactive worry towards himself." Diana muttered under her breath as she walked for a little bit and found an emergency exit that led outside.

Now, because she used to have a high paying, respectable job, most people forgot or never realized that Diana spent most of her time in the 60s and 70s protesting at anything that was pro-government. The rallies were mostly made up of misfits and outcasts. Since she had been to so many, she ended up studying the patterns of some of the groups that attended regularly.

For instance, pot heads almost always had a place that they habituated religiously. These places were easy to get to but were also places most people wouldn't want to go. Pushing open the door, Diana smirked in victory.

Sitting against the dumpsters and the wall of the school were four teenagers smoking weed. One of them hadn't hit their high yet and was desperately trying to hide their joints when he noticed her.

"Don't bother," She said with a wave, "By all means, continue on, I won't take up much of your time."

"You a cop?" A young man asked lazily and he took another drag.

"Considering I spent most of my youth protesting against the government, it would be hypocritical if I was." She told him with something akin to pride. All the druggies found this hilarious.

"Rock on, Lady V, rock on." The young man spoke again after his laughter subsided.

"Lady V?" She asked.

"Lady Vixen." The teenager explained with a flirtatious grin.

"Be still my beating heart." She said sarcastically, but didn't bother to correct the name.

"Joint?" He asked, offering her his and she shook her head to decline.

"No, like I said, I'm here with some questions and I don't have much time." If she didn't hurry

Spencer might really think she fell into the toilet.

"Ask away."

"Yesterday, did. . .something happen on the football field?" She asked and immediately all four tensed at her question.

"Who told you that?" Another young man who was sitting against the concrete wall asked sharply.

"My son mentioned it but he wouldn't give me details."

"And you son is. . .?" The teenager asked suspiciously.

"A kid just like you." She lied easily and all four relaxed again. The first teenager, who seemed to be the leader, spoke again.

"You seem cool Lady V, so I'll tell you. Just don't tell anyone that you heard this from us." He said as seriously as one could when they were high. He took another drag before speaking.

"This is gonna sound out of this world, but one of the seniors this year is a twelve-year old."

"Really?" She asked in fake surprise.

"Yeah, honest truth. None of us here actually know him personally, so we just call him Little Man." He told her, letting loose a puff of smoke.

"Sounds a bit degrading."

"Compared to what others call him, it's actually a tame name. We don't call him that to make fun of him." The only girl in the group said quietly.

"And those names are?" Diana asked even though she knew a few already.

"Some words just aren't mentioned in the presence of a lady." The leader deflected before continuing. "Anyway, we don't have a problem with Little Man but others do. See, he has the best grades in our whole class and some kids don't take kindly to being beaten by a twelve-year old."

"What kids are those? Nerds?"

"You'd think it'd be the nerds and geeks, but most of them don't seem to mind. Sure there were a few that were brought down a peg, but I think most were already in the mind frame that there would always someone smarter out there. No, it's the preps and the jocks that took the biggest offence to him being here. Jocks aren't known for their intelligence but having a kid show them up in any field is an immediate insult to them. As for the popular girls, well, I think they just like torturing people that do better than them." He told her with disgust in his voice.

"So the incident?" She said to get them on track. Her time was running out. Hopefully Spencer had become distracted by some books.

"Ah, that. Excuse my language, but it was just fucking cruel what they did to him." He said with the shake of his head. "We weren't there but what went down was spread around pretty quickly, even for the rumor mill. Anyway, Little Man was in the library and I guess Harper Hillman came up and told him that Alexa Lisbon wanted to meet him behind the fieldhouse on the football field. The kid who told us was in the library and heard the whole thing. He said you could tell Little Man didn't buy it for a moment but Harper didn't give up and practically dragged him to the field."

"Bitch." The girl mumbled.

"Amen, my fellow junkie, amen." The story teller said before continuing, "Well, they get to the field and Alexa was there, but so was the whole football team and most of the school."

"What did they do?" Diana asked in a soft dangerous tone. The pothead sent her a look before continuing.

"From what we heard, they took his clothes and tied him to the goal post. The kid who told us said Little Man was begging them to let him go. One of the jocks, Greg Payton, I think, slugged him and told him to shut up and Little Man started crying. Everyone was pointing and laughing, calling him names. Doubt they'd think it was funny if they were the ones in his position." He finished, glaring at the asphalt; his voice tight in anger.

"If only the popular people dislike him, why did everyone else show up to cheer them on?"

"Hierarchy of fear, Lady V. The preps rule this school. They have the power to make others miserable if they don't go along with their demands. They're not afraid to use it either." One of the others spoke up with a shrug.

"And none of the teachers bothered to put a stop to this?" Diana asked in disbelief.

"The teachers. . .that's another story. The staff is split 50/50 on Little Man." He informed her.

"Those who like Little Man take to him like water. They try to watch out for him but they can't always be there. The other side though. . ." He paused again, thinking, "I don't think they like the fact that a kid knows more on their teaching subjects than they do. So if they see him being bullied, they, more often than not, turn the other way. 'Sides, the football incident happened after school. Any teachers still here would be inside grading papers."

"I see, thank you for your time. Your answers have helped me greatly." As Diana moved to go back inside, she stopped.

"One last question," She said, not even turning around, "Why didn't you untie him?" She heard several sharp intakes of breath and she turned her head to look at their stunned expressions, their joints on the ground, forgotten.

"What? Y'mean they didn't even untie him? Shit, nobody told us that! If we had known we would've untied him after everyone left!" The leader scrambled to assure her, shock still evident in his tone.

"Why do you even want to know about this?" The teenager who had been silent the whole time asked.

"When my son comes home in the middle of the night stark naked with bruises and tears, a mother tends to become concerned for his well-being." She told them sadly. That's not how she found Spencer but it was close enough.

"What? But you said—"

"I lied." She cut him off stiffly. An awkward silence filled the air as all four looked at the ground with guilty expressions.

"Lady V, I swear we'll watch out for him from now on. I've actually wanted to talk to him for awhile now, I just didn't think anyone would take kindly to him hanging around druggies. Little Man has enough problems." The leader told her sincerely.

"I didn't come here to guilt you into being his friends." She told him, crossing her arms, "All I wanted was answers. I apologize for lying earlier but I didn't think you'd tell the truth if you knew I was his mother."

"Probably not." The leader admitted sheepishly.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that I was here. My boy is fiercely stubborn and he won't enjoy the fact that I'm asking questions about something he no doubt wants to forget."

"Our lips are sealed Lady V, he won't hear a peep of it," The leader said solemnly, "Right guys?" He asked his companions and they all nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," She told them softly, putting her hand on the handle to open the door. "Oh, by the way," She said casually, back turned to them, "His name is Spencer and I don't mind if you become his friends. He's bound to find a way to get drugs sooner or later. I doubt he would take any; he's probably read everything there is to know about them anyway." Diana said as she stepped inside.

"Hey Lady V!" She heard the leader call and she turned to look at him. He was standing up and he gave her a big grin.

"My name's Ethan. Now go out there, kick ass, take names, and then kick ass again." Diana just smirked at him as the door slammed shut. Looking at the clock, she winced and began moving quickly towards the library.

"Please don't be having a panic attack, Spencer." She prayed under her breath.

When she finally made it to the library, she was slightly out of breath and took a moment to compose herself. Peeking inside, she sighed in relief at seeing Spencer rapidly reading at a table surrounded by books. Instead of going over to him though, she walked up to the checkout counter where the librarian was sitting.

"Excuse me," Diana said quietly, gaining the other woman's attention. "My son came to pay for some books that he lost. I was wondering, how much did he owe?"

The other woman looked at her. She was older with graying hair and a name tag that said "Maggie" in bold print.

"Ah, let me see. What's the name of your son?" Maggie asked with a sweet smile as she turned to the computer monitor sitting to the right of her.

"Spencer Reid." Diana said resolutely. The librarian didn't even type anything on her keyboard, but she did turn back towards Diana.

"Spencer owed 10 dollars. He just paid it about five minutes ago." She said in a guarded tone, smile gone.

"10 dollars seems rather cheap." Diana commented. Maggie looked around before beckoning Diana to lean in closer. Looking to see Spencer still absorbed in his book, she did so.

"This isn't the first time Spencer's had to pay for losing a book," The librarian confessed in a whisper. "I don't have any proof but I think some other students have been stealing them and vandalizing them. Like I said though, I have no proof and pointing fingers won't help. I do know that it's not him. He treats any book he holds with respect so I cut the price and pay the rest myself."

"What makes you think he hasn't simply misplaced them?" Maggie shot her a look.

"Spencer told me about his memory. I highly doubt someone with a memory like his misplaces things." She said tartly, "Now, I have some questions for you."

"By all means, ask away." Diana replied coldly. Inside though, she was cheering. This woman obviously cared about Spencer.

"Why is this the first time you've come here?" The librarian started on a quiet tirade. "Do you have any idea how much torment your son goes through? Do you? Where have you been? His only sanctuary is in here and I can't always keep an eye on him! Why do you suddenly care now?"

The questions cut through Diana like a knife and it took her a moment to compose a reply without becoming overly emotional.

"I'm sorry," She said, "I know I should have been here ages ago, but I've been sick for a very long time and it began to get worse around the time Spencer started going here. I'm not using that as an excuse to avoid the responsibilities of a parent, but it certainly makes it harder. Spencer doesn't help by hiding things from me. I think he does it so I won't become stressed." She saw the anger fade in the librarian's eyes after she finished speaking.

"I apologize," The other woman started, "That was rude of me. What can I do for you? And don't tell me you're here to pay for his books or just for a visit. As I already said, Spencer's paid for the books and you. . ." She trailed off, trying to find words that convey what she felt.

"You look like someone on a mission." Maggie finished after studying Diana for a moment.

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it." Diana admitted reluctantly. Before she could continue on, the librarian spoke up again.

"I'm willing to help in anyway possible, but I can't give you names." She told Diana with a helpless shrug, "I haven't actually seen anyone lay a hand on him. I have suspicions, but I can't give you names based on hunches, in case I'm wrong."

"Oh, don't worry about that." Diana said slyly, resting her elbows on the counter, "I have names. All I need are some yearbooks. Surely helping a clueless mother find some books won't get you in trouble." She finished lightly, picking off some imaginary lint of her shirt. The librarian mirrored her smirk and came around the counter to meet her.

"On the contrary, it would be rude of me not to. Right this way." She said as she led Diana to the row of books that held copies of the school's yearbooks.

"Have fun looking at our history! I don't think Spencer saw you come in, so I'll make sure he knows." Maggie told her cheerfully and Diana nodded in agreement.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Maggie asked innocently, "I'm simply doing my job." With that said, she went on her way, leaving Diana with the books. Picking up last year's yearbook, she idly flipped through the pages until she found the people she was looking for:

Harper Hillman

Alexa Lisbon

Greg Payton.

"So you're the three stooges messing with my son." She said to herself as she looked down at their smiling faces. She flipped through once again just to make sure.

Yep, no Jack Trulie.

The saying that all lies held a grain of truth in them flashed through her mind as she thought back on what Spencer had told her at breakfast. Using the names of his bullies on a moment's notice was clever but she would bet that it cut him deeply to use them.

"Mom?" She looked up from the book to see Spencer a few feet away.

"Yes?" She questioned back, taking in his curious stare.

"Why are you looking at that?" He asked hesitantly, clutching a book against his chest.

"What, this? I just wanted to see what your friends looked like." She said with a false smile which faded at seeing her son pale. "Spencer?" She asked in concern.

"I, uh, already paid my fees. Just let me put my books back and we can go." He choked out as he practically ran out of the aisle. Putting the book back, Diana walked back toward the entrance, but stopped when a photo caught her eye.

"Excuse me, Maggie?" She asked the librarian who had returned to the checkout counter.

"Yes?"

"It is possible to get a copy of that?" Diana asked as she pointed to a picture that with a plaque that read: 1993s Varsity Football Team. Maggie took one look at the picture and gave Diana a smirk.

"I have a flier right here with all their names on it. I must say, it's nice to see a parent take such an interest in our students." Maggie said as she handed Diana the flier.

"An interest, yes. Thank you for all your help." Diana said, folding the paper and putting it into her back pocket just as Spencer came back.

She left the library the same way a victorious warrior leaves the battlefield.

That night, she sat in her bed looking down at her phone with an old address book in her lap.

It may have been a few years since she had last taught, but she had once been one of the most sought after literature professors in Nevada. Over the years she had worked in almost every college or was a guest lecturer at one. She was in high places back then, and people in high places have even higher friends.

A short list of Diana Reid's friends:

Several deans of the major universities in Nevada.

The President of the Nevada College Board

The presidents of all the private colleges as well as community colleges.

That night, in glow of her bedside lamp, Diana called every last one of them.

"Hello, this Diana Reid. Listen, I have a favor to ask of you. . ."

14 years later

"Hey, Baby Girl." Morgan called as a greeting as he walked into Garcia's lair.

"Hey, Chocolate Thunder! Do you need something or did you just come to see little ol' me?" The bubbly blonde teased as she turned her swivel chair in his direction.

"Ah mama, you know seeing you always brightens up my day." He told her with a big grin before becoming serious. "I do need you to look something up for me."

"Shoot." Garcia said, her fingers already poised above her keyboard.

"Can you bring up the names Alexa Lisbon and Harper Hillman? They went to Las Vegas High and were in the same year as Reid."

"Oh, baby, I can do so much more than that." She responded flirtatiously as the profiles popped up on her screen. "Why do you need to look up these two when you have me?"

"Trust me Garcia, these two would be the last girls on the planet that I would hook up with." Morgan said, voice calm but Garcia could still hear his anger.

"Oh?"

"They did something really cruel to Reid in high school." Morgan gritted out and Garcia's smile immediately became a frown.

"These girls were messing with my Junior G-man?" She asked sharply, looking at their pictures in a new light.

"Yeah, I can't tell you the whole story. Reid barely trusted me enough to tell it. I don't think he'd be happy with me talking to anyone else about it." Morgan explained to the tech analysis so she would understand that he was withholding information from her.

"Did it involve the 1993 varsity football team?" Penelope asked without taking her eyes off the screen.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Morgan asked in amazement.

"I may not know the story, but some else sure as hell did." Garcia told him. "All, and I mean all of them were denied to all the colleges they applied to. Every last one of them."

"What? How's that even possible?" Morgan inquired curiously. He was glad that someone avenged Reid, but to be able to pull off something like that sounded like it came out of a movie.

"Somebody knew someone who could pull some strings." Penelope said with a shrug. "And I, for one, am glad they did! Who would want students that pick on little kids in their school? Serves those bullies right!"

"Yeah. . ." Morgan trailed off as his phone began to buzz. Flipping it open, he saw a text saying to meet in the conference room. "Gotta go Baby Girl, duty calls." He told her as he headed toward the door before stopping as realization came down on him.

"Hey, wasn't Reid's mom a literature professor before she got sick?" He asked. Penelope hummed and began typing things into her search engine.

"Oh my." Garcia whispered in shock.

"What? What'd you find?" Morgan asked, walking back over to her.

"Diana Reid personally knew almost all the deans and presidents of Nevada's colleges and universities." Garcia told him in an astonished tone.

"All of them?" Morgan asked incredulously and whistled in appreciation as Garcia nodded.

"Damn."

"You don't think she. . .?" Garcia let her question trail off, but both shared a look. After a moment of silence Garcia spoke up again.

"Let's never get on Diana Reid's bad side." Morgan nodded in agreement as he walked back towards the door, still in shock.

"And I thought my Mama was bad."

Mothers always know.

An: I always pondered on what would happen if Diana found out. Re-edited 3/25/18