(A/N: Here we go with chapter three. A little bit of intro here. This is where the crossover comes in. If you're not familiar with Criminal Minds feel free to email me with any questions. . Big thank you to my Beta, LaurynBrook. Thanks for helping me suck less. This chapter is from Reid's point of view.)

Chapter 3: I Told You I'd Be Here

My eyes squinted to read the clock as my phone woke me from a deep sleep. Though it wasn't the first time I'd been awaken in the middle of the night by a ringing phone, I was confused all the same. My cell phone sat motionless on the bedside table as the jarring rings came from the cordless phone on the charger next to it.

"Hello," I answered somewhere between sleep and confusion.

"Spencer," the voice on the other end called almost pleading.

I recognized her voice immediately, but her tone was strange.

"Annabelle? Annabelle what wrong?"

"I'm sorry to call so late," she sobbed, "it's just…"

"No, no, it's fine. It's not that late really. What's going on?"

The story I received over the next hour was pieced together between sobs and mumbles. It was torture listening to her in such pain. I'd never heard her in such a state. I wanted to hug her, to let her know everything was going to be alright.

"I'll take care of it," was all I could manage. "Don't worry; I'll there as soon as I can."

Once I hung up the phone I picked up my phone and dialed franticly.

"JJ, get everyone together. We need to fly out tonight. It's an emergency."

I was sure JJ had questions. I'd never called in the middle of the night insisting a team meeting, but I wasn't in any position to give answers right now. I packed as faster than I ever had, cursing at every step that I didn't have a bag pre-packed for once in my life.

Not surprisingly I reached headquarters before the others. They filed in confused and sleepy, looking to me for answers. I said nothing. This wasn't something I wanted to repeat.

"Ok Reid," Hotch said seriously. "What's going on? Why are we all here in the middle of the night?

Taking a breath I passed out the case files Garcia had printed only moments before and tried to think of a way to explain without babbling. I tend to babble when I'm nervous and I didn't need that delay right now.

"Three girls so far," I started. "Kidnapped, murdered, and dumped in a secluded area. All of them age three, Caucasian, blonde hair, blue eyes."

"I've heard about this," JJ added. "The papers have named the unsub "The Sweetheart Slayer." Vegas PD requested that we take a look, but I hadn't gotten to it yet."

"We need to go to Vegas."

"Now," JJ questioned. "No offence, Reid, but there are ten other case files on my desk right now. What makes this case so special?"

"Annabelle Sanders," I said pointing to the CSI's name in the case file. "We went to school together, well her brother and I did. She was the only friend I had my age," I remembered, "the only friend I had at all really."

"Ok, so it's your friend's case."

"It was," I sighed, "until yesterday."

I laid a new police report in front of them.

"Alex and Caroline Sanders, age 3, taken from a playground while the nanny's back was turned."

"Her kids," Morgan questioned.

I nodded.

"Any suspects?" Rossi asked. "The father maybe?"

"No, he was with her. He works for the crime lab, too. They were both working a hit and run when the nanny paged with the 911."

"Any chance this could be unrelated to the Sweetheart case?" Morgan asked.

"It's possible, but in any case Annabelle asked for my help. I'm going whether anyone else does or not."

"We'll go, Reid," Hotch said picking up his cell phone. "I'll ready the jet."

"You're a good friend." JJ said sitting down next to me.

I looked up from my daze as the jet flew somewhere over the southwest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean packing up in the middle of the night and flying across the country to help her out. That's pretty big."

"I guess I don't think about it that way. When it comes to Annabelle there's very little I wouldn't do. We've been friends since I we were twelve years old. It isn't exactly easy being a twelve year old senior, and it's even worse when your English teacher asks you to tutor the captain of the baseball team. I thought tutoring her brother Tom was going to be a nightmare. I hardly knew anything about him except that he was popular and six years older than me like everyone else in my class. He turned out to be a decent guy. When I went to his house for our first session he introduced me to Annabelle. We hit it off right away. It was weird. I never fit in with anyone, let alone someone my own age."

"First girlfriend," JJ asked intrigued.

"No. It was never like that. I took her to her prom. I was in college by then, but that was the closest thing to a date we ever had. I just never thought of her like that."

"What do you know about her husband?"

"I haven't had a chance to meet him, but he sounds like a nice guy. Smart," I said recalling conversations we'd had about Greg, "studied chemistry at Stanford. He worked in the lab until just after they were married."

Just then the jet started its landing procedure, and within moments we were on the ground.

"Are you going to call your friend," Prentiss asked, "let her know we've landed?"

I looked at my watch. 5:00 AM Vegas time.

"It's too early to bother them," I said rubbing my eyes. "Besides, they're probably exhausted. Annabelle sounded like she hadn't slept. I think we should just go to the Crime Lab. Annabelle said the case is being handled by CSI."

"Spencer!"

Before I had time to respond Annabelle had thrown her arms around me.

"I can't believe you really came," she cried. "I knew you would if you could, but I never thought you'd be able too."

"I told you I'd be here."

"Thank you. You have no idea what this means to us."

"You must be Greg," I said offering my hand to the man at her side. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet under better circumstances."

"Nice to meet you," Greg said dejectedly. He wasn't the energetic man Annabelle had gushed about in her letters. It didn't take a profiler to see that these two people were in a lot of pain.

"This is SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA David Rossi, SSA Derek Morgan, SA Emily Prentiss, and SA Jennifer Jareau."

"It's nice to meet you all," Annabelle said in an impressive balance of grace and sorrow. "Thank you so much for coming. This is my supervisor Gil Grissom. The rest of the team is around here somewhere. We keep insisting they go home and get some rest, but they won't leave us."

"We would never leave family in a time of need," the man she'd introduced added. "My team and my lab are at your disposal. Anything you need just ask."

"Actually," Hotch said, "we could use a base of operation, room with a fair amount of space and a phone. A computer would be ideal but not necessary."

"I think I have just the place for you."

"Thank you. While we're getting set up here Mrs. Sanders," Hotch asked, "would you mind taking Dr. Reid and Agent Jareau to your home? We need to get a feel for what kind of children the twins are."

"Not at all," Annabelle said willingly, "anything I can do to help."

"Does this adjoining door stay open," I asked feeling awkward profiling my friend and her children.

"Always. We put them in separate rooms from birth. We thought it would be easier than having to split them up when they got older. As soon as they could walk they could reach they started opening the door. We just keep it open now."

Walking over to Caroline's bed I looked through to doorway noticing the direct sightline to Alex's.

"How do they sleep?" I asked vaguely. "What I mean is, what position do they sleep in, backs to the wall, on their stomachs, tossing around?"

"Facing each other." she said understanding my reasoning. "They stay insight of each other until they fall asleep."

"Interesting."

"Why," asked Greg slightly confused.

"A connect like this, the constant contact with each other, the need for the other's presence. It's very unique."

"I just assumed it was a twin thing."

"To some degree yes," I said, "There are numerous studies about the physiological and psychological bond between twins. Reversed asymmetry monozygotic eggs, for example, split late. Somewhere between 9 to 12 days. The DNA matches right down to the very last stranded code, and there's sporadic documentation of shared physiological pain. Though seeing this sort of thing in fraternal twins is uncommon."

"So what does this tell us," Greg questioned. "Why is this closeness relevant to their kidnapping?"

"Well," I said thinking, "I understand Caroline is being called the fourth "sweetheart."" Annabelle cringed. "If that's the case, this 'closeness' as you called it could be the reason Alex was taken, too. If Alex fought to stay with his sister, which is probable, then it's likely that the kidnapper was forced into taking him or risk drawing attention."

"So," Annabelle sighed, "you're saying it's possible Caroline could have been the target? This could be the same," she paused, "killer as before?"

"It's possible," I said hesitantly, "but we're looking at other angles. I could have it all wrong."

It seemed, when we returned to the lab, that those 'other angles' I mentioned were numerous.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sanders," Morgan asked when we'd all settle in back at the lab, "We were looking through your files, trying to pinpoint possible enemies and we came across a few things we'd like to ask you about."

"Ask whatever you want," Greg prompted, "our lives are an open book."

"I see a case report here that lists you, Mrs. Sanders, as the victim of an attempted murder."

"Twice actually," she said in complete earnest.

"Do you mind elaborating?" Prentiss asked.

"The first was shortly after I joined the department. The team was working a case. Two murders linked by MO and the gym membership of the victims. The killer turned out to belong to the same gym. She was obsessed with the gym owner and saw any woman he spoke to as a threat. Unfortunately, she saw me questioning him. She attacked me in my home two days later."

"The case file says she was apprehended," Morgan said reading.

"Yes," Greg answered for Annabelle. "She's serving a life sentence in a maximum security hospital. She was found to be a constant danger to herself and others."

"And the second attempt?" Hotch asked.

"That was my fault," Greg said, but the sharp look from Annabelle told me he was being too hard on himself. "While Anna was pregnant with the twins I was assigned to a case. A six-year-old boy had been poisoned. Our evidence convicted his mother. Afterwards the father threatened us on two occasions. I didn't say anything at first, but when I did it was too late." Greg swallowed hard. The memory was obviously painful for him. "He took Anna, tied her up, beat her. He was going to kill her," he paused, "and the twins."

"I see here that he's currently serving three consecutive life sentences?"

"Yes."

"Does he have any family left? Anyone who might be interesting on carrying on his work?"

Annabelle shook her head. "No. His wife hung herself in prison. They didn't have any other family so their youngest son was place in foster care. We heard he was adopted last year, his records have been sealed to protect him from his father in the event that he does escape."

"This last one," Morgan said, "is about you Mr. Sanders."

Greg put up his hand halting the question.

"A couple years ago a gang of teenagers decided to get their kicks by beating up tourists. They'd already killed one person and injured another. I was in route to a scene when I saw them attacking a third victim. I called for back up but I couldn't wait," Greg was getting upset remembering. "I revved the engine and honked to drive them away. One of them charged the car so I drove toward him hoping he'd back off. He didn't. He died in the hospital. After I hit him his friends dragged me out of my truck and beat me."

"There was an inquest into the boy's death," Hotch said knowing protocol.

"Yes," Annabelle said, this time answering for Greg, "It was found to be excusable."

"The boy's family filed a civil suit later. The city settled the case."

"Could the boy's family be out to get you still?"

"His brother is in jail on an unrelated charge. The mom is upset but harmless."

"Besides," the one they called Nick said, "the James' take revenge in monetary form. Kidnapping isn't their style."

"That brings us back to the 'Sweetheart Slayer'," Prentiss sighed.

"Which brings us back to nothing," Annabelle said in sorrow.

Just then the woman introduced as Catherine came sprinting down the hall.

"Anna! Greg! LVPD," she said slightly winded, "they've got Alex."

Annabelle gave something that feel between a gasp and a cry.

"They're taking him to University Medical. Come on, Brass has a police escort waiting."

(Insert suspenseful music here…lol. Hope you like my cliffhanger. Thought it only appropriate after what CSI did to us tonight. Hope you like it. Leave me a review. If you give me a useful idea you get listed in my notes…and I may just give you a sneak peak at what's to come.)