I know this was posted in my drabbles, but for those that don't read those and for those that are just stumbling across this story, I'm reposting it now as the prologue to my newest story, Coming Home. :) I'm actually writing a het story, imagine that! Wow. I'm committing to a full on het story. I don't even know what to do with myself or why I'm attempting this and if it doesn't come out great, I apologize. Het isn't typical for me. Anyways, enjoy!

There were times that Spencer Reid couldn't help but think his memory was a curse. On the nights that he was plagued by nightmares, images of things he'd rather never see again coming to life to haunt in him with detail remembered so clearly it seemed all the more, those were the nights he was convinced it was a curse. When someone said just the right word or he saw just the right thing and a memory would pop up like a fist to the face, transporting him to another time and another place that he wished he could forget, he hated having an eidetic memory.

While his memory did mostly pertain to things he saw, that didn't mean it worked exclusively in that way. Strictly visual remembrance would fall more into the category of photographic memory. While people with a photographic memory recall visual information, someone with an eidetic memory isn't limited to merely visual. Many of his memories included other sensory information. Visual, auditory, tactile, taste and smell. Yet there were positives about his memory. He had used it to save many lives since he'd joined the Bureau. To save even one life made it worth the horrible trade-offs that came with it, in his opinion.

But more than that, his eidetic memory gave him the ability to call up memories he actually wanted to relieve. Instead of just thinking of a fond time, he could sit back and close his eyes and, with just a little concentration, he could watch that memory roll past like a movie on a screen and for a little while, he could pretend. He could be happy.

He looked down at the picture he held in his hands, the only photo he kept of her in his apartment. It was too difficult to keep the others around him; then he had no control over the memories. They would swarm him each time he came home. But this one picture, set beside his bed, was perfect. In the photo stood a much younger Spencer, glasses slid low on his nose, very obviously laughing as he tried to balance the weight of the petit woman that was on his back. The woman was laughing as well, her legs wrapped around his waist, one hand on his shoulder and the other up to hold her hat on her head. Under the hat spilled that long brown hair, hanging down to the small of her back in its customary braid. Bright, beautiful green eyes showed the love and humor she was feeling inside. His Mikayla, always so full of love and life.

Spencer looked at that picture and smiled. He remembered when it had been taken. It was a memory he'd visited many times. He remembered talking with their friend Colby, not knowing that Mikayla was creeping up behind him, chatting about the pictures Colby was taking around the campus, and then all of a sudden Mikayla let out a wild laugh and she was landing on his back, almost toppling him over. He'd just barely managed to catch himself, which was amazing in and of itself for someone as graceless as him, and he'd been unable to do anything but laugh as she'd grabbed his shoulder and bounced, shouting out "Giddy-up!" That had been when Colby had snapped the picture.

He smiled as he settled back against his pillows, the picture propped up on his chest. As always, one memory led to another, coming from the place in his mind where he stored everything about her. The first one that came was the first time he'd ever met her. Smiling, Spencer closed his eyes and lost himself in his memories.

It shouldn't have been so nerve-racking to simply sit in a chair and wait, yet thirteen year old Spencer couldn't deny the obvious. He fought not to wring his hands together, not to rub at his palms or his knuckles. This was no big deal. He didn't need to sit here and overreact about something that was so simple. He'd already been accepted into the school—this was just a personal meeting with Cal Tech's President, that was all. Nothing serious. The man just wanted to meet him and welcome him and run over the different safety procedures they'd set in place for him. But he couldn't shake that nervous feeling.

"You look timorous." A girl's southern drawl said from nearby.

Spencer almost jumped out of his chair. He'd been so focused on trying not to fidget that he'd missed the sound of someone coming. Now he turned to look and found a girl that looked smaller than him, both height and frame, with big green eyes and brown hair pulled into a braid, dressed in blue jeans and a plain blue t-shirt. Her words suddenly registered and he found himself surprised at what word she's chosen to use. It caught his attention enough that he actually found his voice to speak to her. "Timorous? That's a rather interesting choice of word."

"It's another way of saying that you look nervous." She explained, the drawl more pronounced. Her explanation wasn't scornful or mocking, just a simple offering of the definition. Smiling at him, she sat down in the chair beside him, pulling her legs up so she could turn to look at him. "Are you here with your family or something?"

"N-No." Curse that stammer! He hated when that happened. Hated how ridiculous it made him sound. "I'm going to be starting my first term here tomorrow."

Her eyebrows rose up and she looked impressed enough that Spencer found himself sitting up just a little bit straighter. "Wow! So you're definitely someone smart then. Are you taking jump start courses or are you fully graduated from high school?"

This girl didn't speak like any girl his age that he knew. Then again, he didn't know many girls his age. But she didn't speak like any of the older girls he'd known in his high school, either. She spoke, well, like he did sometimes, with a different vernacular than the average kid. It intrigued him. He'd looked into the school and hadn't seen any other underage students. "I graduated last year." Summoning his courage, he asked her "Are you a student here as well?"

To his surprise, the girl laughed out loud. "Are you kidding me?" She said with a final giggle. "My mama would have kittens if I started my college education this early. Plus, I might qualify solely on my English credits, but as my Daddy likes to point out, my math skills are sorely lacking."

Though he heard the rest of what she said, Spencer couldn't' stop himself from gaping at one part of her little speech. "Have kittens?" He squeaked slightly on the words and for once, didn't notice enough to curse it. "What do kittens have to do with you attending college? That seems a rather strange thing to say. It makes no sense whatsoever."

Once more she laughed and Spencer found he wasn't flinching from it as he usually might. Her laughter didn't hold any of the usual scorn or maliciousness that he was used to. It just sounded…happy. "Isn't that just the most confusing and entertaining expression? My Mama uses it all the time. I've tried to research the etymology of it but so far I've come up with no real answers. But I do know that it's an expression that means to get extremely upset about something. I love learning new things like that."

"Phrases like that always confuse me." Spencer admitted shyly. When she didn't laugh, he felt brave enough to continue. "I believe that, if a person has something to say, they should say it plainly. What's the point of wrapping it in expressions and things that obscure the meaning and wrap it in so much else that, more often than not, the true meaning behind it has been lost?"

"Really? I find it fascinating to listen to the different ways that people speak. The variations in dialect from even one end of a state to another, or from the West coast to the East coast. When I'm old enough that my Mama can't stop me anymore, I'm going to go to college and study Linguistics, I believe. Or maybe I can get Daddy to help me get started before I'm eighteen. They offer courses on Linguistics over at the Pasadena City College. That's not that far from here. I could stay with Daddy while I take my classes."

"Sugar bee, are you bugging our new student?" A deep male voice asked with amusement.

Spencer looked up and saw the President of Cal Tech standing nearby, a smile on his face, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the girl. The girl just grinned at him and said "I like him, Daddy. Can he come over for dinner this week?"

Daddy? Oh man…the President here was her father. He couldn't believe it. Wait a second, what? His brain caught up with the conversation and he realized what she'd just asked. Come over for dinner? She wanted him to come over for dinner? But…no one ever invited him over. Ever. He wasn't the type of person kids made friends with. He was the type they laughed at and quickly moved on from.

The man let out a laugh that was warm and deep. "I don't see why not. It's nice to see the two of you have made friends. I'll make sure to set something up, sugar. Now, why don't you go ahead and go down back to where you're actually supposed to be, hm?"

Not flustered in the least bit by the chiding, the girl rose to her feet. Before she left, though, she gave Spencer one more of her wide smiles. "By the way, I don't believe I said it before. I'm Mikayla."

"I'm Spencer." He said shyly.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Spencer. I'll see you later this week!"

And like a flash, she was racing off, leaving Spencer slightly stunned. It must have been obvious on his face because the man laughed once more. "Don't worry, Spencer. She has that effect on everyone when they first meet her. You'll get used to it. For twelve, she's a bright girl, but she's definitely a pistol. Now, why don't we go into my office…?"

That had been the very first time he'd met Mikayla. Maybe it wasn't anything spectacular to anyone else, but it had been to him. It had marked a multitude of firsts. The first time he'd managed to actually have a full conversation with a girl without embarrassing himself or losing his voice. The first time someone his age had willingly sat there and talked with him. The first time he'd made an almost instant friend. There was just something about her that made Mikayla impossible to dislike. She had such a love of life that seemed to fill the space around her and she had an easy laugh that never failed to make others smile.

He'd gone to dinner that week, and then twice the next week, and from there, the two built a friendship faster than Spencer had known was possible. When summer had ended, she'd gone back to her mother's home, back in Georgia. Her parents were divorced and her time was split between them. When school was in, she was at home. When she was on vacation, she came to California. It worked for her, she'd told him. But when she went home, they exchanged addresses and phone numbers, and not a day went by that they didn't speak to one another.

The next summer the two had been inseparable. She was the first true friend he could ever remember having. When the feelings of friendship grew, turning into more, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. It wasn't until he was just shy of sixteen and she was fifteen that he finally bit the proverbial bullet and worked up the courage to ask her on a date. That memory came next, slipping forward and transporting him back.

His class done for the day, Spencer had some free time and, as usual, was enjoying it with Mikayla. Each had a coffee in hand as they walked side by side through Throop Memorial Garden. It was a pretty little garden on campus and it was someplace the both of them enjoyed. Him, because of the calm he found here. Her, because it was just a little taste of nature for her in the middle of the city settings. Walking it with each other just made it that much more enjoyable. He'd come walking here today with her for a purpose and he wasn't going to leave until he at least tried. For days now he'd been building the courage for this. Finally, finally, he was going to do what he was aching to do and ask her out on a date.

He was rambling on a little tonight, he knew. Nerves always did that to him. But, as always, she didn't complain in the least, even when he rambled about topics she knew nothing about. When he finally wound down about his day, she was still beside him and she graced him with one of those smiles that, just recently, had started to fill his stomach with the fluttering of nerves. "At least I know, no matter what, I'll always have a friend that's good with numbers." She teased him. She had no problems joking about her lack of ability with math. The numbers always got so flip-flopped, she told him. Still smiling, she bumped his arm. His latest growth spurt had put him quite a bit taller than her. His chin was level with her forehead. So, her shoulder nudged his bicep more than anything.

"Oh!" Abruptly he remembered something. Reaching down into his bag, he pulled out a book, turning to hand it to her. "I found this when I was in that secondhand bookstore we like. I thought of you immediately."

Mikayla's face lit up and he swore her eyes were almost glowing with enjoyment as she reached out and took the book from his hands. It was a copy of Shakespeare's Othello. Not long ago she'd lost her copy of it to water damage when a guest had spilled water on her while she was reading on her mother's porch. It was one of her favorite books and she'd been devastated at its loss. "Oh, Spencer, look at it. It's in such good condition!" Turning, she gave him a fast, brief hug, making his heart race. "Thank you so very much! You are the absolute best friend a girl could ever ask for."

Just do it already, Spencer. Quit procrastinating and step up and be a man he chided himself mentally. As she fell back into step beside him, he chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to keep himself from fiddling with his hands or his coffee. He didn't want her to see how very nervous he was. "You know," He started out as casually as he could. "the theater over at the Boston Court is putting on a production of Othello this weekend. I've heard it's very well done."

"I've never actually seen a theater production before." One arm curling the book to her chest, Mikayla tipped her head up toward him and smiled.

His heart beat a little faster and he couldn't quite meet her eyes, but he made himself keep going. He could do this. He would do this. "Would you like to go with me?" The words came out in a rush, but he got them out. They'd been said and there was no taking them back. Oh, God, he felt like he was going to be sick. What if she said no? What if she didn't think of him like that? What if he'd just messed up the best friendship he'd ever had in his whole life just because of stupid hormones?

Then she was smiling at him, a hint of rose filling her cheeks, and a shyness he'd never seen there before. "I'd like that." Her voice was softer, that Georgia drawl just a little more pronounced.

Suddenly feeling much lighter and much more at ease, Spencer smiled right back at her. Inside, all he could think was She said YES!

The two walked silently on, each wearing their own smiles and thinking ahead to the coming weekend.

He'd been afraid that the date would end awkward. The closer it got to it, the more nervous he'd become. Smiling, Spencer laughed at himself. He should have known better. Everything that should have been awkward with her always ended up being just right. She had a way of making him feel almost—normal. He wasn't some socially awkward genius when he was around her. The way she looked at him, the way she smiled, made him feel as if he were someone special.

Because he only had a permit, he couldn't drive them to the theater, but neither minded walking from the campus over there. Her father agreed to meet her at the campus to bring her home. It was only a fifteen minute walk and neither of them minded that. She'd been absolutely beautiful, he remembered. Stunning. It was one of the few times he'd ever seen her in a dress. She'd worn a beautiful dark purple cocktail dress, perfectly respectable for a fifteen year old girl, and had even pulled out heels, though he knew she wasn't fond of the. Her simple wrap had been thin in the night air and only now, with quite the distance of time, he could look back and see that it had been deliberate on her part. It had allowed her to get chilled, which had of course prompted him to hand over his coat and wrap her in it.

Spencer didn't remember a single moment of the play. He spent almost the entire time watching her discreetly as she was drawn into the play. She had such a wonderfully expressive face, he found himself able to watch her constantly.

She'd talked almost the whole walk back, discussing different aspects of the production versus the actual play, and for once Spencer didn't feel the need to talk. His coat was draped over her and her small hand was tucked into the curve of his arm and he felt like he was on top of the world. And when they reached the meeting place and saw her father's car and she thanked him so prettily for a wonderful night, he had done what had felt right and had bent and they'd shared their very first kiss.

After that first date, they went out once to twice a week, either out to eat or to the movies or even just wandering together in the afternoon. Honestly, it wasn't anything they hadn't done before, but now it held an entirely different tone to it. Within a month, he officially asked her to be his girlfriend and she'd happily said yes. For Spencer, life was perfect. Absolutely perfect. As he got closer to eighteen, they took to discussing their future. How marriage came up, he never could recall. It was just a topic that was one of many that they spoke of. Something that they both wanted together one day. Though there was no official proposal, to them they were engaged from that conversation on.

To their friends, they stopped being Spencer or Mikayla and became 'Spencer and Mikayla'. A unit, always spoken of together. He was closer to her than anyone in his life. There was nothing that he couldn't tell her and the same went for her to him. They shared their secrets, their fears. She told him how it had felt to be in a home that was part of a messy divorce and what it was really like to be shuttled between parents who couldn't even stand to communicate with each other. She told him of her dreams to write a book one day. In turn, he told her of his father leaving when he was ten and what it had been like to care for his mentally ill mother and of the torment he'd endured as a child prodigy in a public high school. There was nothing they kept apart from each other.\

Then, one night, just days before Spencer turned eighteen, the two were talking on the phone about Spencer's up and coming trip back home to Vegas—the trip he would make once he was eighteen and could legally get his mother the help she needed—and the subject changed to something he had never thought it would.

"Spencer, can I ask you something?"

The hesitancy to Mikayla's voice had Spencer instantly sitting at attention. He straightened up on his couch, eyebrows furrowing down with worry. "Of course you can. You know that. What is it?"

"Well, you and I, I mean, even though there's been no proposal, and I'm not complaining about that at all! But even though there hasn't been one, one could state that we have an understanding between us, correct?"

Surprised at her choice of topic and still wondering what exactly was going on, he said "I've been under the impression that we do."

"I was just wondering, well, if you'd thought about when. You know, when you'd like to get married."

There was something going on here. Mikayla wasn't the type for idle questions. If she was bringing up this topic, it was for a purpose. There was something on her mind that she wanted to say or ask but she was going about it in a roundabout sort of way. There were times Spencer would let her do things her way, simply following along until she got to the heart of it. This time, however, he went the other route. Bluntness. "What's going on, Mikayla? What is it you really want to ask me?"

He heard her sigh over the phone before she said "You know, a gentleman would've simply answered a lady's question and allowed her to direct the conversation to where she wanted."

This was a familiar playful argument they had all the time. With her southern upbringing, there were things she was used to, a certain way things were, that she had had to teach to Spencer, who hadn't grown up with those rules. Most of them he did already; they were simple rules of etiquette. He had always been a mannerly individual. But some of the things were most definitely particular to the south and therefore he was unfamiliar with them. He was her 'gentleman in training' she teased him. "I'm still in training, so I can take a few liberties. What's going on?"

For a long moment she was quiet. He could practically picture what she would look like as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders in that way of hers when she was approaching something she felt the other person wasn't going to like. "Now just hear me out before you say anything, Spencer. I'd like the chance to present my arguments before any form of rebuttal."

"I agree."

"This back and forth travel between us is becoming increasingly difficult. You're going to be eighteen soon and I still have almost a full year before I turn eighteen. Despite having graduated high school a year early, Mama isn't inclined to let me move out with Daddy quite yet. I think she's afraid I'll start more schooling and she's still holding out hopes of me settling down first and putting aside the notion of school."

That made Spencer snort softly. No matter whether she 'settled down' or not, Mikayla was going to go to college. Nothing her mother said was going to stop her.

"Exactly." She said in agreement to his sound. "But that's Mama's view. Now, that means that, for the next almost year, she's going to keep me down here. I won't be able to come back out there but for occasional short visits. Are you with me so far?"

"I am."

"Good. Now, you know I love you, Spencer, and you know I want to spend my life with you, just as I know you love me and you want to spend your life with me. There's no one else for either one of us. So, marriage is a logical assumption. The when of it shouldn't really matter, as it's in our plans anyways. So this is what I was thinking. When you go to Vegas to take care of your mother, I want to go with you. You'll be eighteen and I'll be seventeen still but with a notarized affidavit from my mother granting me permission, you and I could marry while in Vegas and I could return with you as your wife. Then, we would never have to be apart again." Her words rushed now, as if afraid that he would cut her off. "We're not average teenagers, you and I. We know what we want and we know that we want one another. The rest, we'll decide together. But if we already know that we're going to marry one day, why should we have to wait? Why not marry now and save ourselves a year of pain at being apart?"

Spencer sat there in silence as her words bounced around inside his head. She said nothing, only waited for him to speak. She knew him better than anyone and she knew he would need time to process this before he spoke. He would need to stop and think and process it all before he could formulate any kind of response.

Marry? She wanted to marry now? But they were so young! Yet, Spencer dismissed that argument almost as quickly as it came in. She was right; they weren't the average teenagers. They did have an understanding that one day they would marry one another. What was the difference between marrying now or later? Later, they would both be older. Most likely she would be in college and he would, hopefully, be financially secure in some job and therefore better able to support her. But they would have to spend the next year apart from one another. Whereas, if they married now, she could come home with him and they'd never have to be apart again. Maybe he was still in school and maybe he didn't have a steady and secure job to support her with yet, but they could work with that. They could make it work. She could stay here with him at his apartment.

Even as he thought about it he knew what his answer would be. Not only because he loved her and because it felt so immensely right, but because he had never been able to refuse her anything she wanted.

"Are you sure your mother would sign for it?" He asked with a smile.

Her answer was almost bursting with excitement. "Positive! Does this…does this mean…?"

"I guess it means I'll pick you up from the airport in Vegas. You can fly straight there and meet me there. And we'll have to get rings sized when we're there. I have the rings my mother gave me for the future, whenever I decided to settle down.

Her loud scream had echoed in his ear and made him wince even as he was grinning broadly. Married. He was going to get married.

Their plan had gone off without a hitch. Only hours after arriving in Vegas, he'd picked her up from her flight. As promised, she'd had the notarized affidavit as well as all other paperwork ready to go. First they'd gone to the house and he had done what he'd originally gone for. Even now that memory made him wince. It had been so hard for him to go to the house with the men from Bennington and have to tell her that he was committing her. Her pleas were one of the memories that haunted him. Shaking his head, Spencer pushed that memory away and went to the one that came after it. After his mom had been taken from the house, Mikayla had come to him and held him and let him cry.

Then the two had cleaned themselves up, changed their clothes, and left the house to go apply for the license. They'd agreed that they would be married before they spent the night together. Despite what others thought, they had never slept together before. Both believed in waiting until they were married for that special moment.

It had been easier than they'd thought to get all the paperwork together and set the ball rolling. Spencer knew he'd never forgot how she looked in her simple sleeveless white dress, trailing down to her ankles, her hair bundled up on her head an shining with stones her mother had given her. He had thought to himself that the shine on them was nothing compared to the shine in her eyes. With the exchange of vows, they changed their lives as they became Dr. and Mrs. Reid. And the night that followed was one of his best memories of all.

The storm that had hit when they'd gone back home had been a huge one. Her father had been beyond furious. His first reaction was to contest it, but with the notarized affidavit from her mother, there was nothing he could do. The second was to demand that it be annulled. When she told him that was impossible, his temper had grown even more. Mikayla had begged Spencer to stay where he was and she'd pulled her father out of the room. What had happened between them, he didn't know. She never did tell him. But when they came back out, Alan had been much calmer, though obviously still not pleased. He'd plainly told Spencer that he had better make Mikayla happy or Alan was going to take it out of his hide. Spencer had gulped, nodded, agreed to it all, and had been thoroughly pleased when they'd been able to leave and go back to his—their—apartment.

Life became almost idyllic after that. With such an easy friendship and dating, it was no surprise to either of them how well they meshed together as husband and wife. They easily adapted to one another's routines and they spent almost all of their time together. It was no trouble at all for Mikayla to finish off the last of her credits for school and turn it in. And the minute she turned eighteen, she started her linguistics classes at Pasadena City College. They'd been married two years when Spencer was approached about applying to the FBI. He and her discussed it and she was all for him joining the Bureau. She was so proud of him over it. When he accepted, they prepared together to move.

They were happy together. At least, he had thought. One day had changed everything.

Though he'd started these memories to smile, it was inevitable that they ended with this one. They always did. Rolling onto his side in his bed, Spencer curled the photo to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as the last memory assaulted him.

When Spencer opened the front door, he was surprised to see the apartment was dark. It was the very first sign that something was wrong. The first thing that was out of place. If she had no plans, Mikayla was always there, coffee just finishing brewing, setting the cups out on the table so they could have a late afternoon cup and discuss their days before having to start dinner or anything like that. It was how they both unwound and it was a routine Spencer loved. Yet now, there were no sounds at all in the apartment.

His feet seemed almost leaden as he made his way in and turned the light on. Nothing looked out of place. Yet it felt empty. Why did it feel empty? What was going on here?

That was when he turned and when he saw the envelope on the table. It took him a long moment to gather the courage to walk over there and pick that envelope up. On the outside was written just his name, nothing more. Just 'Spencer'.

When he pulled out the letter that was inside, his eyes traveled down the page quickly, reading the words that took his fairytale life and turned it upside down.

Spencer,

I'm sorry to have to do things this way. I didn't know how to say the words I wanted to say to your face. This is hard for me. I'm leaving Spencer. Please, don't come after me, don't look for me. Just let me go. This is what's best for both of us. I thought what we had was love but I've come to realize that it isn't. This isn't love.

I'm sorry.

Mikayla

At first all he could do was stare. No! his heart cried. No! But the words on the page stayed the same. Mikayla was gone. She had left him, with just this simple note.

No, he would not believe it! She wouldn't have done this. Not his Mikayla. She wouldn't' have left him and she wouldn't have left him through a note. She was a strong willed woman, a spitfire, and if there'd been problems then she would've brought it up somehow. She would've talked to him. Not leave him a note. Especially knowing how his father had left this way; this wasn't something she would have done to him. That meant….God. That meant someone had taken her.

His heart in his throat, Spencer grabbed the phone and dialed the first number he could think of. The police.

No one had believed him when he told them that there was no way she would leave. When he insisted that the note was written under coercion, they had practically rolled their eyes at him. None of them had been willing to investigate a wife leaving her husband. The only one who believed him was her father, Alan. Together, the two had done everything they could. Alan had hired private detectives, even. But nothing came up. It was as if she'd vanished.

Eventually, when the date came that Spencer had to leave if he still wanted to make the academy, Alan had sat him down and told him he had to go. That, whether she'd left or was taken, she would never have wanted him to throw away all his dreams and pine for her. She would've wanted him to go on. And in the Bureau, maybe he could get the help he needed to find her. Maybe someone there would believe him and help him search.

Though it ripped him apart to do it, Spencer had finally agreed. He'd packed up the apartment, moved his things, and gone to the academy.

Almost five years had gone by since then. In one month it would be five years. And in that time he had heard nothing, seen nothing of her. No trace of her was found anywhere. In his heart he knew, he just knew she was alive. Just as he knew that she hadn't left him by choice. The fact that he found no trace of her — not under their married neither name nor under her maiden name— made him believe even more. It was as if she had dropped off the face of the earth.

With quiet tears streaming down his face, Spencer ended his memory session the same way he did every single time. He pressed a single kiss to the picture before setting it back on his nightstand. In the quiet of the room, he made the same vow he always did. "I will never give up until I find you."