The Edge of Vengeance

"Lindy. Lindy, please." His voice broke. His stomach sank. A sob caught in his throat. The room began to spin, he closed his eyes and waited.

He watched her. He held her. He gently pushed several wisps of hair out of her face. She shuttered at his touch. She was broken. He saw it in her eyes when she looked at him. He heard it in her raspy breathing. They should leave; he should pick her up and carry her out. He knew better though, the last thing he wanted to do was make things worse. If things got worse, she might…she could….statistically her chances….no. Never mind, he wouldn't think about that. He wouldn't let her become a statistic. She was Spencer Reid's little sister and she was fighting for her life.

It was a beautiful, early, spring morning in Charlotte, North Carolina. Lindley Barrett reached across the bed and looked at her phone - 7:04am. She sighed. It had been a late night and the last thing she wanted to do was get up and run. She would do it though, as always. It was the usual early morning battle. Sleep a little later or run a little longer. Running won out. It cleared her mind, got her creative juices flowing and gave her motivation a swift kick in the rear. She was a writer after all. With her next deadline right around the corner she could not afford a week's worth of writers block. So, she got up and threw on a sports bra and a pair of yoga capris.

She walked past her computer desk and tapped the laptop's keyboard to wake the screen. Looked like a few emails were waiting for her. Well, wait they would. She needed to get her body moving. Moving over to her drawers, she dug around for a pair of matching socks, walked to the living room for her running shoes, and the kitchen for a water bottle, then out the back door.

She breathed in, the crisp morning air filling her lungs. The sun breaking through the leaves of the trees lining her neighborhood warmed her skin. A smile began in the corners of her mouth. This was going to be a good day. She leaned into a stretch, and scrolled through a few Pandora stations. Lindley waved at a neighbor and ran off.

He walked into the building, squinting behind his sunglasses. He needed coffee and he needed headache relief. He got into the elevator and pressed the number for the BAU floor. His stomach churned as the box began to rise. It wasn't until the doors opened that he realized he had been holding his breath. He walked out exhaling. He turned left and headed toward his desk and the saving grace of warm, brewed caffeine.

He poured a cup, added two packets of sugar and took a small sip as his teammates walked in.

"Morning." He greeted Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss. They smiled in return.

"Morning, Reid." Prentiss said. "Good weekend?"

"Alright." He answered.

He made his way back to his desk, knowing his inclination to rattle away facts and statistics first thing in the morning. He just didn't feel up to it. He sat down in his chair and stirred his coffee when Jennifer Jareau, JJ, walked through the door.

"Hotch wants everyone to meet now. We've got a kidnapping case in Charlotte North Carolina." She said.

At the mention of that particular city in that particular state, his head snapped up. Charlotte, North Carolina had a population of 731,424 according to the 2010 US Census. The odds of an individual getting kidnapped were 1:610,000, but didn't they see those odds defied every day? He mentally scanned through all the previous victim photos from the past 7 years. A feat made possible thanks to his eidetic memory. Those they saved and those they hadn't. The families that they had comforted and consoled, he wondered what would have happened if someone told those families those kidnapping statistics.

They all began to gather their belongings and move toward the meeting room.

"Hey Genius, you coming?" Morgan asked

"Uh, yeah. Yes." He said, pulling the strap to his brown messenger bag over his shoulder. He grabbed his coffee and followed Morgan into the room. David Rossi was already there, waiting. He looked up, as the three younger agents filed into the room. They sat around the table and watched as JJ shuffled her folders.

"Okay guys and dolls, we've got some missing babies in Charlotte." Penelope Garcia said as she made her way into the room, handing out tablets to everyone but Reid. He preferred the feel of the folder in his hands. He enjoyed the process of sorting through records and writing notes in the margin as his brain ticked of the mistakes of others.

"I'm sorry, babies? As in literal crying, pooping babies? Prentiss asked.

"Oh, um no, young women, young ladies in the Charlotte area. Sorry, love." Garcia corrected.

"I'm not sure that's any different. They're still victims" Aaron Hotchner said from the back of the room. "Garcia." Hotch said again, signaling their tech specialist to continue.

"Yes sir. The bodies of three young women ages between 22 and 25 have been found in dumpsters all around downtown Charlotte." She clicked her pointer toward the screen and the picture of a pretty brunette filled the screen.

"Margaret Sutton, 24 was found two weeks ago in a dumpster behind a local supermarket. Her body was covered in bruises and small cuts. Restraint marks on her wrists and ankles. Small electrical burns also covered her body.

Chloe Denners, 22 was found 8 days ago in a dumpster on the other side of the city. Her body was also covered in bruises, cuts and burns, same restraint marks.

Leah Archer, 25 found two days ago again a dumpster. Bruises, cuts and burns, the same in all three cases. Also, 2 days ago Lindley Barrett was reported missing by her publisher, Susan Cranston. She…."

Reid dropped his coffee. The ceramic cup hit the floor and shattered. He made no movement to pick it up. He made no movement at all.

"Reid?" Hotch asked.

For the first time in his young life Spencer Reid's glorious mind was blank. Void of all thought whatsoever. He didn't even register the fact that his boss was calling his name. All he heard were the five words stated by Penelope Garcia; "Lindley Barrett was reported missing." What were those statistics? Wrong. They odds of being kidnapped couldn't have been so vast. Not if Lindy was a victim. They thought the name difference would have kept her safe. She moved to Charlotte after college and quickly gained a publishing deal. She was a fantastic writer. No one knew. They made sure no one knew, but now, now everyone would know. She would be in constant danger. Someone would find a way to use her as leverage against him and the team, if the hadn't already.

"Spence?" It was JJ's voice that brought him out of his thoughts.

"Spence, what's wrong?" JJ asked again. He looked up. They were all staring at him. Concern on their faces at the suspicious actions of their youngest member.

"Reid." Hotch asked again, a little more forceful this time. He looked up at Hotch.

"She's my sister. Lindley Barrett is my sister." The genius said.