Criminal Minds 1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A Private Hell

_Sweet is the dream, divinely sweet, when absent souls in fancy meet: - __Sir Thomas More_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

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Time heals.

With enough talking and discussion and more talking anything can be conquered.

A paperwork day. Reid had been the last back after the last ordeal but despite Rossi's concerns that he would just walk in and cheat the evals again he was back. Rossi had to give him this much – if he was still effected by past events he wasn't letting it show.

He didn't know Reid as well as Aaron did though.

The constant rubbing of his hands on the side of his trousers didn't go unnoticed by the unit chief. The way he always hung back so he was last in the elevator didn't go unnoticed by Morgan and the way he couldn't or wouldn't look Prentiss in the eyes was not missed by her – but he was arriving at work at his normal early time and leaving last and doing his job and what more could they ask?

Today Reid was looking a bit pale and when he glanced at his watch for the fifth time Morgan got up and took a seat next to him.

"What's wrong?"

Reid tucked his hair behind his ears and turned to look at Morgan. "Wrong?"

"You don't look good Reid, and you are clock watching. So what's going on?"

Reid ran a hand over his jaw. "Sometimes it hurts still. It's OK – I have it under control. I just need to wait for the hour to be up before I can take another pain killer. Nothing to worry about."

Morgan rested his elbows on the desk. "And Hotch knows?"

A small shake of the head and a frown. "Do you tell him when you have a headache?"

"No buddy I don't – but ……….."

"But you haven't had a drugs problem." Reid pulled the pack of over the counter pill out of his pocket and handed them to Morgan. "If it would make you feel any better."

He took them in his hand and gave them a quick look over. "Yes Reid – it would make me feel better."

"Well I have ten more minutes and I need to take with water."

The complete truth was that he had a blinding headache – his jaw hurt and he had been having awful nightmares again. He would have in the past talked to Gideon about it, but now even had he been here he would have kept this to himself. It was have enough knowing that these people had seen him degraded to that extent – he didn't need to keep reminding them. He ran a hand over the scar on the back of his neck and sighed.

"Hey – kiddo – if you ever want to talk."

Reid nodded. Talk talk talk until you are blue in the face but if you don't actually tell them the problem they will never understand.

It was the same as every other evening. They all left except for Reid who wanted to just finish up this last bit. Another thing not unnoticed by anyone who knew Reid. Always one last bit to do.

He waited until everyone had gone and put his pen in his desk drawer and pushed the files to one side. The cleaning crew weren't due in for another half an hour. That gave him a full thirty minutes of peace. He lay his head on the desk and closed his eyes. This was the only place Spencer felt safe.

For some reason the nightmares didn't reach him if he was here.

As the first lot of crew arrived Reid pulled on his jacket and picked up his messenger bag. It always felt too heavy these days. He had been coming into work on the train. First thing in the morning he was so tired that he considered it hazardous to be driving. Last thing as the night-time started he always regretted those early morning thoughts – though he was in no hurry to get home. That nice safe place had gone now.

And so as he sat on the subway and held his bag close and closed his eyes against what was going on around him he just wished he could confide in someone, but who would really understand?

-o-o-o-

Emily closed her apartment door and locked it and set the alarm. She then leaned on the wall and took deep breaths. It was always such a relief to get home to her safe place. Where she knew that the bogeyman couldn't get her.

She slung her jacket over a peg on the wall and slung her sidearm and badge into a small drawer with a combination lock. Her clothing she shed as she walked to the bathroom.

Emily locked the bathroom door and took a long hot shower. She scrubbed at her face. She could still feel his mouth on her sucking and licking greedily at her face and she could still feel his tongue moving against her lips. Emily washed her hair and stepped from the shower pulling on a bath robe and scrunching it around herself tightly.

She stood staring out of the window until two in the morning when at last she felt too tired to stand and wait any longer. She lay on the top of her covers and rolled over onto her stomach.

Prentiss sobbed big angry sad tears until at four am she finally fell asleep.

And in her dreams he came to her and stood and watched and touched her cheek and then left again.

-o-o-o-

Hotch had decided against selling the house. He was going to rent it out and get somewhere smaller in the meantime. It felt wrong selling something which had made him so happy. There might be a chance for it again one day. He was having a problem letting go of these memories.

He picked up some take away on the way home and after double locking his new re-enforced front door and setting the alarms he dumped the food on the kitchen counter.

Aaron walked through the house and turned on all the lights upstairs and down. He needed to get rid of as many shadows as he could. He had never fully understood how a grown man could be afraid of he dark, and still he reasoned with himself it wasn't the dark he was trying to avoid. It was things moving in the shadows.

He used the small downstairs shower room to freshen up and change into something without a tie and then went back for the food.

It was almost cold by the time he sat down to eat the small meal for one. Most of it he just pushed around his plate. No appetite. His reason obviously was that he was worried about his decision to let Reid come back to work yet. He was worried about some of the new odd mannerisms he had picked up, about

how tired he looked. How tired they all looked. Had any of the team had a proper undisturbed night's sleep since that day in the snowy forest? He pretty much doubted that….but with Reid there was more going on than bad dreams. PTSD was what he had been 'treated' for, but had Reid told them everything? Those deep dark thoughts he kept locked away in his mind were going to come crashing down on him.

Hotch decided to talk to Reid about it in the morning. As he lay his head back and closed his eyes and listened to the silence a shadow bulged and shrank and faded.

-o-o-o-

Derek went to the bar after work. He drank orange juice and he watched the girls. Occasionally he found his eyes wondering over the guys, but only to make sure none of them were who he really wanted to meet. The one he wanted to tear his heart out. The one who was preventing him from feeling safe in his own home.

It was midnight when he welcomed Clooney and put down fresh water and some dog treats. He showered and pulled a towel around his waist. Still dripping wet he went back to his lounge and sat on his big leather couch. He thought about putting on a music channel. His concentration was shot recently. Bad dreams….not enough sleep. Maybe he needed to go down the gym and not to the bar.

At three in the morning Morgan went to his room. He lay on the top of his covers on his front with the towel still wrapped around his waist. At four he awoke screaming. At six he awoke sobbing. He got up and put the coffee on and put fresh water and some dog treats down for Clooney. He then took a shower and got dressed today in combat pants and a long sleeved top. He was about twenty minutes late for work. Again.

-o-o-o-

Dave also double locked his door and set the alarm. He also said hello to the dogs and put down fresh water and treats. Rossi however wasn't burdened with nightmares and he wasn't afraid of the shadows and he didn't stare at his own reflection in the window until he could hardly stand. Dave cooked up a quick stir-fry and after having a shower he relaxed and watched a documentary about polar bears. He had a early night. He knew that at some point in the night the dogs would start barking and he would have to get up and settle them again. A couple of doggy choc buttons and they were asleep once more on the bean bag bed they had in the hallway.

-o-o-o-

As soon as Spencer stepped through the door it started. His cell phone began to ring. It was always the same. At first he wondered if it was some fault with the electronics. The phone didn't register the calls – and he had never managed to answer it quick enough to hear if there was someone the other end of the line. Even with the cell turned off it still rang. It seemed to be for exactly six minutes. Then it would stop and start up again half an hour later. He put the phone on mute and stuffed into the bottom of his bag. The bag and jacket he dumped on the floor and his shoes he kicked off and left them where they landed. He had half an hour of peace and in that time he would take a shower, with the door tightly locked and facing said door at all times. He even showered in his boxers.

When washed and dried he went quickly to the bedroom and pulled a fresh lot of clothing out of his cupboard. Not the normal 'Spencer' get up. He was in black jeans and a tight black vest which he hurriedly tucked in and then pulled a pair of dark trainers on and he brushed his fingers through his hair. The belt he added had a loop for him to attach his keys to and his wallet with only a small amount of cash in it went in his front jeans pocket.

Reid was in and out of his apartment before the phone started to vibrate again in his bag.

Again he took public transport. He sat with his arms tightly around him and his legs crossed pulling himself as close into him self as he could. Where he was going he didn't want to stand out in the crowd. He wanted to fade into the back ground and just observe.

He knew he was out there. He could sense him. He could almost taste the musk in the air where he had been. He needed to find him. He wasn't going to permit yet another person to just abandon him, not right at the point he realised finally what it was he wanted.

The streets were packed. Every night a party night at this end of the town. A special kind of place. One where he could just slide along in the shadows and usually be ignored. Any form of heckling from passing cars he ignored. Kept his head down and let his mind pull him to where he needed to go.

Tonight he found he was standing at the opening of a well known little side street.

It was used for selling more than one kind of thing and the smell was thick and cloying.

Spencer rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand just to be sure he was smelling what he thought he was.

Floyd had been here. Maybe still was. He looked up and down the dark street. The security lights along here had long been broken. People didn't want to be illuminated as they did their thing or purchased what they needed.

His jaw was aching and it was only now that he realised that he had been clenching his teeth tightly together. A hand slid over his back.

"What you after?" A small dark skinned youth looked up at Reid.

He looked down at him and rubbed at his temples. "I'm looking for someone."

A gapped toothed grin was part of the reply. "Well you came to the right place then. Let me give you a tour."

"No – no it's alright. It's a particular person I am looking for."

The guy took hold of Reid's arm and started to drag him into the dark. "So what does the mystery man look like?"

"Oh – er – five ten. Long dark hair, dark eyes, funny smell, sometimes in glasses but not often, erm – boots and probably a waistcoat."

Spencer felt the hand tighten on his arm. "No – no you don't want to be looking for him. He's not right that one."

Reid again turned to look at the shorter man. "You know him?"

"Seen him – heard the stories – seen what he leaves behind. You really want to go home if that's what you are after."

Reid pushed the hand off his arm. "What he's left behind?"

"They say he sucks the very soul out of a person."

A frown. "And you have seen this?"

"I told you didn't I? I hear the stories."

"No – you said – you said that you've seen what he leaves behind."

"Well I exaggerated a bit. What's the great need anyway? He's a cheap junky whore. Only comes down here to give blow jobs in exchange for something."

"I see. In exchange for what?" Reid started to walk down the dark street. The moans and mumbles and groans going on around him he ignored.

"Different things….usually drugs."

"Right. He is prostituting himself for drugs. Wonderful."

"He does it good…heard guys who are willing to sell him their sisters for a blow from that dark one."

"This is getting better all the time."

"I'm told he's good." The little guy was hanging onto Spencer's arm again.

"I know! I know! Why do you think I'm looking for him?!" He was pulled up to a stop.

"You know from personal experience?"

A quick nod.

"Then you're fucked mate….he never repeats."

"He will me."

"You sound very sure of yourself."

"Are you going to help me find him or not?" Reid was getting annoyed with this distorted information.

The hand went from his arm. "You're on your own on this one. Good luck."

He didn't find him. He looked until the early hours of the morning and all he managed to do was fork out a few dollars just to prove he was the filth Floyd had always said he was.

Back at home he stripped and put the smelly sweaty clothes in the wash. At least now he knew he was looking in the right area. He would find him. He had something of his he needed to return.

Spencer spent longer under the shower this time. Washing in hotter water and using more soaps on his pale skin and in his hair. He ran his hands quickly over his skin. He was running out of time. Faster and faster he rubbed at his now pink flushed flesh gritting his teeth hard as he removed the scum from his body.

He didn't bother drying himself. No time. He needed to be quick now. He raced from the bathroom in a pair of boxers sticking to his wet skin – his feet sliding on the wooden floor. He fairly threw himself into the bed room and slammed the door behind him and flicked the lock across.

Out of breath now he stood in the darkness.

"I'm – I'm here."

There was no answer. There was never an answer. Not a real one.

He knelt down on the floor next to the bed which hadn't been slept in for weeks and placed his hands in front of him. He dipped his head down and for a minute or two looked at the growing puddle of drool collecting on the floor. Then he closed his eyes and waited for his alarm to go off at six.

-o-o-o-

He stood in the shadows and watched her looking through the window. He was so close he could have reached out a hand and touched her soul, but he left her and her silent tears. She wasn't for him. There was only one he wanted now and he had let him down so severely that he knew that he had lost him forever. He wiped a hand across his mouth and readjusted his clothing whilst passing down some money to the lad kneeling in front of him. "Go away."

"I'm not done."

"I know. Go away."

"Whatever." The money was taken from his hand and the lad scuttled away back into the shadows.

He looked back up at Emily who had pressed the palm of her hands onto the glass. "Go to sleep. I'll see you in your dreams."

Floyd pulled back and walked away

-o-o-o-

Hotch dreamed of feeling empty. As though someone had reached in a removed his essence. He dreamed of falling and of no one being there to catch him. He dreamed of people watching and accusing and laughing and mocking as he fell endlessly into nothing.

Aaron awoke with tears on his face and strange uneven breaths as though he had been crying. He rubbing his aching hands together and shook the feeling off. Laying down on his right side he pulled the throw from the back of the couch over him and went back to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Spencer didn't dream. Spencer didn't sleep – he kept perfectly still and felt the scar on the back of his neck tingle as a reminder.

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**A/N: OK once again let me know if this is worth continuing. Thank you! Pb tin XOX**


	2. Chapter 2 The Meeting

Chapter 2

The Meeting

**A/N: SLIGHT SLASH WARNING**

_Pleasure therefore, (or Delight,) is the appearance or sense of Good; and Molestation or Displeasure, the appearance or sense of Evil: -__Thomas Hobbes_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

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Just another day.

"Reid – is Reid here yet?" Hotch stood looking around the bullpen.

Morgan indicated the men's room. Then went back to trying to see the words swimming on the page he was trying to read.

Hotch looked at his watch and waited for five minutes when Reid still hadn't re-immerged from the room, Hotch went to see if he could find him. He pushed open the door and stood for a few seconds just watching. He then quickly entered and locked the main men's room door behind him.

"Reid – what the hell are you doing?"

Spencer stopped and turned to look at Hotch, at the same time he wiped the heels of his hands angrily across his eyes.

Hotch looked down at where Reid had been stamping down onto a splatter of bits which used to be his cell phone.

Reid opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again, deciding instead to start to pick the bits up off the floor and put them in the bin. He retrieved the sim card and put it in his jacket pocket.

"There – there was something wrong with it."

Hotch nodded. "We really do need to talk Spencer. I think you have come back to work far too early. I want you to consider taking more time."

"No." Spencer stood and looked directly into Hotch's eyes. "I can't. I need to be here."

"Reid – you are no good to any of us if you aren't ready. I'm not judging you. No one will."

Spencer sighed and leaned on the wall of the small room. He leaned his head back against the tiles. "I'm just not sleeping very well."

"Nightmares again?"

A small shake of the head. "No – just nothing – I can't sleep."

"Then sort it out Reid. I don't want to come down hard on you but this behaviour isn't acceptable."

Reid's fingers fiddled with the sim card. "Sort it out?"

"Go home and sleep. Please. Go and see a doctor get something to help you. Once you get back into the routine it will be easier."

Spencer took a shuddering breath.

"With your past history Reid, I cannot permit rumours to start. You look ill. I need you to go and sort your problem out now. We don't have a case and so for now I can spare you. Morgan will have to do his own paperwork for once – and Reid – get another cell and put your sim in it."

"But – but I think it's the sim which has the error. I will have Garcia check it out."

Hotch put his hand out to Reid. "I'll do that for you. I want you to make an appointment to see your doctor. I will give you a lift. In the meantime have a coffee and at least try to do something constructive."

"I can manage." Reid's hand stayed firmly in his pocket.

"The sim card Reid. Now."

Reid pushed away from the wall and pulled the small bit of plastic from his pocket. Hotch could see the slight tremor in Spencer's fingers as he placed the card on Hotch's palm. He also noted the way Reid closed his eyes and bit on his bottom lip. Aaron was going to sort this out.

"Be sure to tell me when you need that lift." Hotch heard Reid sigh as he left him alone in the men's room again.

Spencer followed shortly afterwards and sat down hard on his chair. Again he rubbed at his eyes and then at his aching jaw. He picked up the telephone and punched in a number. He knew Hotch would check out the sim card. He knew he would make sure he made his appointment. He felt trapped. Like some invisible net was closing in on him.

"Doughnut?" Emily's voice. He could smell the sweet sugary smell of the food Prentiss had in a small white baker's bag.

He shook his head slowly. "No thank you Emily." He was still looking down at the phone he was holding in his had. Someone was talking on the other end. Reid quickly put the phone to his ear and talked to the receptionist. He looked away from Emily. He had never really gotten on too well with her, but now there was a deep down dark rotting hatred for her.

For the rest of the morning he sat brooding and wondering what Garcia was going to find on his sim and what she was going to tell Hotch. At lunchtime he pulled a painkiller from his pocket and swallowed crunched down on it. The taste was revolting, but they seemed to work so much better this way.

He sighed when he heard the inevitable voice behind him. "Reid – I think we need to talk."

Spencer saw the small sideways glance from Morgan and with as much control as he could muster he placed his pen on the desk and slowly stood and turned to face Hotch. "My appointment is at three."

A nod. "My office please Reid."

He pulled his jacket off the back of his chair and shrugged it on. He then picked up his bag and carried it back to where Aaron was already walking. Once inside the office Hotch locked the door and asked Reid to sit. Again he felt like he was being trapped. He could feel his heart beating too fast and a sweat breaking out on his brow.

Spencer sat quickly and crossed his legs tightly. His hands stayed on his lap twisting and untwisting in a manic fashion.

Hotch placed the sim card on the desk in front of him. It was in a small evidence bag. Reid looked at it and closed his eyes against the pain he was going to go through now.

"Do you want to start or shall I?"

Spencer shook his head. "It's not how it looks."

"How do you think it looks?"

Reid shrugged. "I suppose it depends on how blinkered you are being." He snapped back.

Hotch placed the palms of his hands on the desk. "I am putting your attitude down to lack of sleep. Now explain."

Spencer leaned back in the chair and tipped his head back so he was looking at the ceiling. "It's personal."

"Not anymore it's not. I can help you Reid but only if you will confide in me."

Spencer cracked his knuckles. "I'm looking for someone. They are just contact numbers."

"You call them every day." Hotch was fiddling now with the plastic bag.

"Because I haven't found him yet." He uncrossed his legs and pushed his chair away from the desk. "Look Hotch I am sorry, I know you don't understand and I'm not asking you to. I just want to be left to sort this out in my own way."

"How can I possibly understand anything Reid if you won't talk to me about it?"

Reid's legs suddenly re-crossed and his arms folded tightly around his chest. "It's personal." His voice had dropped to a much quieter tone.

"It's affecting your work. It's not personal anymore."

Suddenly Reid was standing and his chair had tipped back onto to floor. "This.." Indicating the sim card. "Has nothing to do with why I can't sleep. I am hoping it will help me."

"Explain how being in contact with drug dealers and pimps will help."

"NO!" And now Reid was pacing. "It has nothing to do with my work and it has nothing to do with you. I am entitled to privacy Hotch. I am allowed a life."

"No Reid. I am afraid you're not. Badge and gun. You are suspended until your sort this out. I don't want to risk mistakes on the job because your mind is elsewhere."

Shaking hands pulled his gun slowly from his holster and placed it carefully on Hotch's desk. The badge followed in a slightly more irritated fashion. "Fine! Suspend me for being a fag!" He snatched up his bag and turned to leave the office.

"Reid! – That is not what this is about. You know that."

Without turning back he spoke as he unlocked the door. "No Hotch – I don't know. I have a doctor's appointment to keep. Excuse me."

"Wait." And Hotch was there behind him a hand on his shoulder. "Here."

Reid turned to look at the sim card in Hotch's hand. Slowly he reached forward and took it. "Did Garcia find a fault with it?"

A shake of the head. "No – but I hope you find what you are looking for Spencer."

Reid put the card in his pocket and left.

It felt like the elevator doors would never open and he could feel eyes boring into his back making that scar tingle and his stomach twist in sickening knots.

He already knew that he wasn't going to keep his appointment with the doctor. He had no intention of sleeping but now it meant that he had no safe place to even get that small half hour sleep with no dreams and nightmares. His fingers closed around the plastic bag in his pocket and it was comforting.

-o-o-o-

Once inside his apartment he threw his things down on the hall floor and ran to the kitchen. One of the drawers had an old phone. It didn't take much to put the sim card in it and get it working.

Yes he knew he had tried to destroy it. Yes he knew he should have thrown it away but this was contact – even if it was one way – his only contact. He put the phone on charge and went to the bedroom pulling out a change of clothes. He placed them on the bed and went to the bathroom.

Again it was a quick shower and he didn't bother with a hair wash now. He could sort that out when he got back. This was good – this meant he had more time than usual to track. To look for him and to do the other things he needed and now that he was off work, well, he thought he might even have a drink.

Still damp from the shower he pulled on a pair boxers and some jeans with a plain dark grey long sleeved top. He didn't want to stand out. He needed to blend in and just observe. Eventually he would see him. He knew he would.

Once more with enough cash to over his nightly needs and with his keys attached to this belt loop he made him self as small as possible on the train. He sat where he could see the doors and both carriage ends and fiddled with his hands on his lap.

Even though it was daylight still it was still really busy in this part of town. It seemed to be an endless party here. Seeing as it was still early he decided to visit a bar and have a soft drink and get some sugar in his system.

With an orange juice and lemonade in front of him he leaned on the bar and looked around. Forever looking for who he needed. He rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand and tipped the drink down. He realised what a mistake it was immediately. Too much too quick. A quick walk to the men's room allowed him to expel the drink from his system down the toilet pan. He knelt on the dirty bathroom floor for a few minutes collecting his thoughts about this whole situation. He knew that he wouldn't be able to rest until he had this whole thing sorted and to do that he had to find Floyd. He had to at least say goodbye if that is what he wanted – and he probably did. A glance down at his watch. Still a bit early really, but he was going to go anyway and start looking. At least now he knew where to begin his search.

A miserable late afternoon greeted Spencer. It was dull and overcast as he made a slow and hopefully inconspicuous walk down towards the small side street he had found the evening before.

Already it was busy. Already it was night time down here. Head down but eyes looking around he began a slow walk down the length of what wasn't much more then an alley way.

He walked to the other end pretty much undisturbed and there was nothing. The sense he had picked up the night before was gone. Either he had been mistaken yesterday or he was just too early.

Reid stood for a while trying to figure out what to do next. He couldn't go home – he could hang about here for too long. His only real options where the coffee shop around the corner where he would get talked to and asked questions and have joviality forced upon him, or go back to the bar and have another drink. Something he was more likely to keep down this time.

Spencer turned around and started his walk back to the Ten Bells bar on the corner of the next block.

A few more people in here now, but not so you would notice unless you are looking for someone. He ordered a whiskey and this time sat at a table alone and sipped it slowly and played with the beer mat. No one talked to him or really even looked his way. He kept his head down and drank slowly until with bleary eyes the looked at his watch and decided it was time to go again.

It wasn't until he tried to stand up that he realised that maybe he had a touch too much to drink on a very empty stomach. His head was spinning comfortably as he walked in what he considered a reasonably straight line to the door and out into the cool night time air.

It hit him with a blast so strong that he nearly fell to his knees. The sudden air to his head made his eyes water and his knees feel weak. Too much to drink. He didn't think it had been that much, but now trying to look back on it he couldn't remember how many he had eventually tipped back and down into his now gurgling stomach.

At first he walked with one hand against the wall of the building as he made his way back to the place he needed to get to. Spencer was silently – he thought – cursing himself for drinking too much as he stood facing the darkness and still not being able to sense anything other than drugs and sex. Slowly he once again began to walk down the length.

"Hey."

A familiar voice. Spencer turned to look at the young man leaning on the wall. He did a small half smile at him. With a smile Reid walked over to him and took him by the shoulders. He moved the guy out of the way and took his place against the wall.

"The usual." Was all Reid said as he felt the hands at his belt.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he felt the young dark haired whore start to earn his money. Reid put one hand on the top of the guy's head as he knelt and the other hand he placed on his own stomach. It was as he had asked for at first. The usual. Nothing special, but pretty good nonetheless. He took long deep breaths as he felt the hands running over his sides and down to his exposed hips and then the short sharp breaths as the mouth touched and the tongue flickered over his exposed flesh.

As his back arched and he made small moaning sounds at the back of his throat the mouth and hands suddenly went. The hair slipped away from his hand for only a few seconds. A new trick. Something to get his body needing more.

And that's exactly what he got.

When hands suddenly returned and moved one to his hip and the other to his right buttock and the tongue began its games again he thought he was going to scream. His hand twisted around long dirty hair and the strong smell of musk was unmistakable. He felt the nails from the rough hands digging into his white flesh and he needed to move and look down and confirm this was happening but he couldn't move. All he could do was stand and take what was being offered.

The owner of the mouth did a damned good job and now the mouth was kissing and sucking and licking at Spencer's stomach and the hands were running over his ribs.

And now the mouth was on Reid's neck but still he couldn't open his eyes and look at this person. He was trapped in a world somewhere where he had no control over what was happening. The mouth crushing his and the sucking and nibbling and the nails digging and pinching and the hands squeezing and yes it hurt and yes it was wonderful. The teeth were biting down on his neck now and a hand had a hold of him touching with the rough calloused hands he new well. Another hand was twisting and twisting in his hair and Spencer wanted to reach out and touch this person and feel the skin beneath his hands but he just stood with one hand by his side and another pushing hard against the wall he was standing against.

And then it was over. Reid stood still against the wall and felt the hands re-buttoning his jeans. He felt them gently refasten his belt.

"Floyd?"

A finger pressed on Spencer's lips.

"Just some dirty street whore doing his job."

"But……"

"You've been drinking. Go home babes, you won't find what you are looking for here anymore."

"But……"

"I've moved on. You need to too. Go."

"Please…."

"You know where to find me."

A final gentle kiss on the lips and he was gone.

Suddenly the sounds which had been muffled out by the adrenaline came back into focus. Spencer looked down the street to see if he could see Floyd, but all he could see was heaving groaning bodies and deep dark shadows.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3 Mugging

Chapter 3

Mugging

_A friend is someone who, upon seeing another friend in immense __pain__, would rather be the one experiencing the __pain__ than to have to watch their friend suffer._

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

She had sensed something was 'off' with Reid but hadn't said anything. Now she sort of wish she had. He might know something. Anything.

She had on a pair of shorts and a vest top and stood in front of her cooker looking at the bit of chicken breast cooking in herbs in the pan. She wasn't hungry – but she was well aware just by looking at the mess Reid was in what happened when you stopped eating. Her job was important – she needed to stay on the ball. She needed to keep with it.

Emily wiped angrily at the tears running down her face and then prodded the chicken angrily. "You bastard. You son of a bitch bastard." She smacked at it again. "If I ever get my hands on you – if I ever – oh god."

She pulled the food off the heat and turned off the cooker and stood watching it laying there in the pan. "You complete bastard."

Prentiss pulled a length of kitchen paper from the roll and wiped her nose. She put the paper in the bin and went to the kitchen sink where she turned on the cold taps and filled her hands with icy water. She splashed at her face and took in a couple of handfuls of water.

The bit of chicken she removed from the pan with a fork and placed on a small blue plate – she then walked to the window and stood looking down into the shadows. She needed to shower. She could feel the sweat running down her back and the sides of her legs and she could feel the shuddering breaths she was taking. Prentiss picked at the chicken with her fingers and wished he had made something with noodles.

At three in the morning with the half eaten chicken still on the plate in her hand she decided on the shower. The food she dumped in the bin and the pan, spoon, fork and small blue plate she added to the dishwasher.

Her clothes she slid out of in the bathroom and she stood under the shower with her eyes closed.

Maybe she fell asleep standing there.

Maybe it was the stress.

Maybe it really happened.

Emily felt rough hands over her back. One snaked its was around to her stomach and the other rested on her forehead pulling her head back so his mouth could suck and lick and kiss at her neck. It didn't last long. Not much more than a whisper in time, but she opened her eyes and in her heart she knew he had been there.

-o-o-o-

Hotch sat with his bowl of soup and bread roll and flicked through the 'places for sale' part in the local paper. He wondered if he had been too hard on Reid – but until he had his head sorted properly he was no good for the BAU. Hotch was sure of that much. He needed to give him complete space and permit him to go through the grieving process he was going to have to go through to come out the other side unscathed. If that was possible. He remembered how he looked kneeling bleeding in the snow and he wondered how he had managed to pull himself back to the place he was and where that place actually was. Maybe he was far more damaged than he initially appeared.

Aaron put the paper with the small ads in it down and stood up to put some music on. Again all the lights in the house were on and though the curtains were closed and there was a faint smell of coffee he didn't somehow feel it was safe to put music on. It made him feel vulnerable. He wouldn't be able to hear if there was someone there in the shadows he was trying to push back.

Hotch guessed – it was a pretty good guess that this was over vigilance. It would pass. He would get over it. He had to so that he could lead the team properly. He sat back down again and pulled the throw over him and looked at the picture of Jack on the mantle piece. He needed to contact him. He needed to set up some sort of time to go and see him, but not yet. It wasn't time yet. He didn't feel comfortable and safe.

He wondered if he should go and talk things over with Reid out of work. Go and have a drink in a bar somewhere. Just a chat. Buddies.

Aaron closed his eyes and removed that thought from his mind. Stupid idea. He could call him on the phone though. Just to make sure all was OK. Tomorrow. Not now…far too late now.

Sleep came in fits and starts. Small images of dreams and twists of nightmares. Of running and hiding and of failure.

-o-o-o-

Rossi had talked to Hotch about his decision concerning Reid and he had completely agreed with him on all counts. Reid was obviously still very unwell and he would have been shocked if he had just bounced back as though he hadn't been raped and beaten and humiliated in front of everyone. It just wouldn't be normal if he had just shrugged it off. Therefore Rossi was much happier with this new snappy strange Reid. This one he was more able to understand. He could empathise with this one.

The other one. The one who was closed down and empty and devoid of emotion, that was the Reid he couldn't understand. Moreover he couldn't understand why the other team members didn't find his behaviour odd.

Rossi locked up and fed the dogs. He cooked up a well done steak and had chunky potato fries with it. He sat in his housecoat and pyjamas and watched re-runs of Mork and Mindy.

He made a decision to give Reid a call tomorrow or the day after and just ask how he is doing. As a friend. Nothing more. Just as someone who cares. Reid needed to know that they hadn't all abandoned him. He wanted Reid to know that whatever happened they were here to support him through it – they were family. That's what family did.

Rossi patted his dogs goodnight and left dog treats out for them. Hopefully they would all sleep through the night for once.

-o-o-o-

Morgan went to the gym after work tonight. He thought it would be better to try to get him to sleep at night. It didn't work. He didn't like being there. He felt people were watching him. Which they probably were and usually he lapped up the attention, but today – tonight – he just wanted to be alone and the gym wasn't the place to be for that. He went to the steam room and rested until he began to feel light headed and sick.

A quick drive home afterwards took him down a road he didn't often travel. Actually it was out of the way. It wasn't on his way home and he didn't really know why he was here. Something had lured him to come home this way.

He saw him. He was easy to spot. Tall and thin with a very distinctive walk. He was dressed down, but in a fashion far more fitting for this area. Spencer walked with his head down and his elbows in tight at his sides.

Derek wondered if he should call out to him, but then thought that was probably a very bad idea. He pulled the car over and watched him standing leaning with his back against a wall and one leg bent so that the sole of his boot was against the bricks. He was looking at something in his hands, but from here Morgan couldn't see what it was. It looked like he was twisting it around his fingers.

A tall blonde guy walked up to Reid and started to talk. He saw Reid look up and do his tight smile at him. At this point Derek's hand was on the door handle about to leap out and save his kid bro from the dangers of tall yellow haired guys, but Spencer was shaking his head and pointing down the street.

The guy moved on and Spencer stayed against the wall fiddling with whatever it was he had in his hand. He stayed like it for about half an hour – twisting and twisting his fingers – completely unaware of what was going on around him. When he moved off finally he pushed whatever it was into his pocket and walked in the direction of the subway.

Morgan shook his head. Tomorrow he would have to call him. Tell him that he saw him. Obviously whatever Taki and Floyd had done to him had done a lot more damage than anyone realised. He was just relieved that Spencer hadn't walked off with anyone. That was a small blessing. He watched the familiar figure until he was out of sight and then he turned his car around and went home.

He showered and ate some fruit and took to his bed early.

A dream:

In his dream he was laying in bed and someone came and stood at the end of his bed. All he could see was a shadowy form but he knew the voice only too well.

"I saw you watching him."

"I'm worried for him."

"He'll be fine. I gave him something."

"The thing he had in his hand?"

"No – the thing living in his soul. He will be alright."

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to Agent Derek Morgan. Just remember that I gave him someone to protect himself with. He needs to get on with his life."

"Hanging around street corners with rent boys?"

"If that's what it takes, it really depends on how he interprets the gift I gave him."

That was the dream. When Derek awoke he was cold and the drapes were drifting in a strange unfelt breeze.

-o-o-o-

He stood on the platform and wondered what to do. Sure go home. Have a shower. And ultimately tonight he had to do the same as always, but tomorrow and the day after? He felt lost.

Spencer squished himself up as tightly as he could on the train and avoided looking at anyone and he pulled the strands of hair out of his pocket and started to twist them around his fingers again. Floyd's hair. His proof. He sighed and leaned his head back against the graffiti covered window behind him.

Reid didn't see them coming. Had he been looking he probably wouldn't have changed much of what he was doing anyway. But he would have seen the hands coming in the snatch what he was playing with.

As he felt the hand grabbing his and pulling at the length of hair wound around his fingers he let out a small yelp of surprise and looked up to see a huddle of youths in hoddies. Spencer's fingers bent and fisted around the strands of hair as his big eyes looked up into the dark faces.

"What you got?"

Reid tried to poke it back in his pocket.

"Give it here!" and the glint of a knife.

Spencer's hand stayed in his pocket. "I don't have anything you will want. Take my money – there's not much though. My wallet is in my left front pocket. Do you want me to get it for you?" His eyes flickered from one dark face to the next.

"No – I want what you had in your hand." And the knife was waggling now in Reid's face. "So hand it over." The youth leant forwards now and grabbed Reid under the jaw holding tightly and digging fingers into the side of his face. Pain shot through his jaw and across the side of his face and burst out of him via a nose bleed. It didn't seem to put the guy off though who was now being jeered on by his mates.

"Cut him!" The chant began, and now Reid knew that this small time gang leader had to do what was expected or lose face. He felt the blade rest against his cheek.

"Cut cut cut." Being sung in the background.

"Give me what you had or I will stick this in your pretty brown eye."

"Hazel." Reid tried to move back away from the blade but his head was hard against the window.

"What?!" Spitting as he spoke.

"My eyes, they're not brown, they're hazel." Think what to do. Think.

"I don't give a shit what colour they are your stupid fag!"

Spencer uncrossed his legs and placed his hands on his lap. "I told you – take the money – but the security cameras are watching this. You won't get away with it. If you hurt me then you will be in a whole lot more trouble than you will be if you just walk away."

He felt the blade press against his skin. He knew this person meant trouble. Equally he knew that he was as bothered by the escalation of this situation as Reid was. Spencer put a hand up and placed it over the one holding the knife. "Just put it down and walk away."

It pressed harder against his cheek. "Give me what you have in your pocket."

Reid knew that the longer he could keep him talking the better the chance of defusing this or even better, someone would join the carriage and they would move on.

"What I have will be of no value or interest to you. I have money in my wallet. Take it and go." Carefully he pushed the hand away from his face. He moved his other hand down to his pocket to remove his wallet and it was now that things began to go wrong.

There were five of them and only one of him. They dragged him from the chair by his legs and though he reached out and tried to grab for something to hold onto they were too quick and there were too many of them. Spencer felt a fist land on his face and a boot in his ribs.

He could feel a hand try to reach into his pocket and so he attempted to roll onto his side and keep it out of hands reach. His nose was bleeding uncontrollably now as a boot caught him under the chin cracking his head back against a metal pole. He howled in pain as his jaw which was still not fully healed took the damage.

Something punched him hard in the chest and now all he could do was to put his hands over his head to try to protect himself and curl up as tightly as he could. It really didn't last long. Probably from the time they dragged him from this seat until they ran out of the carriage doors as the train stopped at a station was only a couple of minutes.

No one else got in the carriage he was in at that stop and so he permitted himself the luxury to lay and rock and try to pull the pain away and put it somewhere else. The next stop was his. He needed to get up and get off the train at least. He didn't know what sort of damage they had done to him but he didn't think his face was cut. The blood there was just from the sensational nose bleed he had suddenly been possessed by.

Spencer could feel the train slowing down for his stop. Slowly and carefully he rolled onto his front and then got to his hands and knees. He was aware that he should report this. They would just get away with it and torment some other poor commuter, but Spencer just needed to get home.

People stared at the tall thin stumbling blood covered young man who looked ill – but no one offered help. Best not to. Keep you nose out of other peoples business. If he wanted help he would ask for it. They ignored him and tomorrow he would be forgotten. Not really that unusual to see a drunk guy who'd been in a fight. Avoid them. Don't get involved – especially if blood was involved. Not worth the risk.

It was about a fifteen minute walk from the subway to his apartment block. Each step was harder than the next. Five minutes into the walk he hand to stop with one hand on his chest and another on the wall of a building and empty what little he had in his stomach onto the paving stones. He cold smell the alcohol and it made him heave all the more until there was nothing coming up except stomach acids and finally he was able to wipe his face with the back of his hand and continue his walk home. Ten minutes in and his head began to spin. He stood very much how Morgan had seen him with one leg bent and his back against the wall trying to keep the world from spinning madly.

Five minutes later he was moving again. Spencer was vaguely aware that where he hand his hand still clamped to his chest that his fingers were wet. He stopped and pulled away his hand and looked at his fingers. A small frown spread over his face.

"He stabbed me." He muttered as he stood looking at his hand as though it had grown an extra finger. Quickly he placed it back over his chest and stumbled the last few minutes to his apartment. Spencer punched in the security number to get in the main doors and then tiredly walked to the lift. He stabbed at the button impatiently with his finger. He wanted to get in and see what the guy had done to him and to check on the treasure in his pocket. He was too afraid to take it out again unless someone else saw it.

As the elevator doors 'pinged' open he stepped in – pressed the floor number he needed and leaned on the back wall letting the car take him up towards home.

Once in Spencer carefully took the strands of hair out of his pocket and popped it in and evidence bag he took from a kitchen drawer. He then took it to his bedroom and put it under his pillow.

A quick look at the clock told him he was running late. He didn't have time to shower now but he did have time to change out of the dirty clothes. As he pulled of his top he could see clearly the hole in the right hand side of his chest. Curiously he ran fingers over the wound and then looked at the tips of his fingers. No time to think about it now. He had no time left. Quickly he pulled off the jeans and in just his boxers he knelt down on the floor.

"I'm here. I'm not late." He said to no one and put his hand on the floor in front of him and looked down at the floor.

-o-o-o-

Somewhere in the dark and the shadows a curled up form lay in the dirt and howled like an animal in pain.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4 A New Alliance

Chapter 4

A New Alliance. 

_Love is an alliance of friendship and animalism; if the former predominates it is passion exalted and refined; if the latter, gross and sensual: - __Charles Caleb Colton _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

At least now he didn't have to get up and go to work it gave Spencer the chance to crawl onto his bed and lay down for an hour or so. He stood up and walked slowly to the bathroom. His knees ached from kneeling for so long and his chest ached slightly. Time for a shower and to sort things out.

Spencer stood in the stark white of the bathroom in his boxers and looked down at the indentation on his chest. There was a bloody scab around it but as he pressed on his he could feel that the skin had begun to heal over already. He stood on tip toes and looked at it in the mirror and slowly picked at the scab with his dirty fingernails. There was new pink flesh showing under the scab. He placed his hand hard against it and took a deep breath. Nothing. Just that slight ache as though he had been kicked. The bruises from the kicking were already fading to a greenish yellow.

Reid turned on the cold water and waited until it was running ice cold and then put his head down and cupped handfuls of water over his face where his nose had done a pretty good job of covering the bottom have of his face in blood. Once done he turned and looked at the shower and then turned again and left the small room.

He pulled the dirty jeans back out of the wash basket but found a shirt to put on with them. He tucked the grey shirt with a small darker grey design on it into his jeans and did the belt up. Reid ran his fingers through his hair and then went and sat on the edge of his bed. He slid his hand under the pillow and pulled out the small bag with the twist of hair in it.

"Thank you." Spencer whispered to it.

He now had the whole day ahead of him. He tucked the hair back under his pillow and lay down on the top of his covers. He intended staying there until mid day at the earliest and then he needed to go into town and pick some things up. That nose bleed had been avoidable. And next time he would remedy it.

He lay on his back in a white shirt and dirty jeans with his hand resting on the strange place he had been stabbed only the evening before. He didn't close his eyes though. Spencer thought he would be tired to the point of collapse by now, but strangely he didn't seem to need much sleep these days. Just the occasional battery recharge and this is what he was doing when there was a knock on the door.

A sigh.

He decided to ignore it until he heard the voice. "I know you're in there. I need to talk to you." Morgan.

Another sigh.

"On my way." He called back before Derek decided to kick his door in. He pulled the door open and looked over Morgan's shoulder half expecting Garcia to be standing there too, but he was alone.

"Hey kiddo." The lightness of the words was lost by the gravity of the tone.

Reid stepped back away from the door. "You want to come in?"

Morgan walked in immediately taking in Reid's grubby appearance. He closed the door and followed Spencer down to the lounge. "Did I disturb you?"

"Not really. Sit – coffee?"

Derek shook his head and sat down on Reid's couch. Spencer sat on his big chair and sat with his legs tightly crossed and his arms folded.

"So – what's wrong?" Spencer knew Morgan wouldn't be here unless there was a problem.

Morgan leaned forwards with his elbows resting on his knees. "What happened you know …."

Reid sighed and leaned his head back closing his eyes. "Derek – I don't want to talk about it."

"It's just you know – it's affected us all in different ways."

Spencer unfolded his legs and folded them back again. "Well I'm glad it's not me then…Is that all?"

"I find I am doing things I wouldn't normally do."

Spencer started to pinch at the skin on his inner arms. "I don't know what you want me to say Derek. You need to see a professional. Why are you telling me?"

Now Morgan leg out a sigh. "I drove home a different way last night. I have no idea why, it wasn't a route I would normally take."

Reid glanced over at him now and bit on his bottom lip. "I see. Your SatNav is broken maybe?"

"I saw you."

He knew this was coming but it still felt like someone had hit him in the solar plexus with a baseball bat. "I don't have a curfew."

"You looked like a rent boy Reid, what the hell are you playing at?"

Spencer stood up. "Thank you for you observations Derek. I wasn't aware that I needed your permission to dress how I wanted or to walk where I chose."

Morgan didn't stand. He was afraid if he did that he temper would get the better of him. He didn't much like this Reid he was talking to. This wasn't the Reid he thought of as a kid brother.

"Just sit will you Reid and let me talk."

"Why!? So you can remove from me the tiny bit of self confidence I have left? You want me to just sit at home and be a good boy? Will that ease your mind any?"

"Reid please – sit – I'm not judging you."

"The hell you're not!"

Spencer was pacing the small room now and Derek could see just how grubby Reid was looking. "OK – maybe I was a bit, but it's how it looked Reid, and if you can't explain to me what you were doing I'm going to have to tell Hotch what I saw."

Reid stopped and shook his head. "You tell me Derek – what was I doing when you saw me?"

"Walking – then you stopped and leaned on a wall…fiddling with something in your hands. Looked like someone asked for directions."

Reid stood in front of Morgan and then crouched down. "You want to truth – you want me to tell you what I was doing there?"

A nod – and Morgan had a funny idea that he wasn't going to like the answer. "I went looking for Floyd. I got blown by some street whore. What you saw Derek wasn't someone asking for directions it was someone propositioning me." He looked directly up into Morgan's dark eyes.

"And did you find what you were looking for?" The sickness in Morgan's stomach didn't show in his voice.

"Yes – yes I did. Thank you for asking. Now get out. Report me if you want. I very much doubt I have a job anymore anyway. Though Morgan I would watch Emily very carefully. She's not dealing with this as well as you think she is."

Morgan stood and looked down at Spencer. "Non of us are Reid."

"Can I be of service while I am down here?"

Derek ignored the weird sleazy remark and left Reid's apartment. He ran down the stairs in too much of a rush to wait for the elevator and made a quick dash for his SUV. He was speed dialling Hotch before he had properly sat down.

"It's Morgan. We have a problem. Again."

-o-o-o-

Emily woke up with a start and a small cry in the back of her throat. She tried to lay still and stay silent. There was someone in her apartment, she was sure of it. There was a smell. The smell of smoke, cigarette smoke and something else.

And as she lay there and listened to the silence she could feel where arms had been wrapped around her. She could smell a scent on her skin. Carefully looking down she could see small scratches on her stomach. Not enough to bleed, but there were raised red marks. With a shuddering breath she placed her hand over the marks.

Slowly she got off the bed and padded in her boxer shorts and vest to the bathroom She stank of stale sweat and sex and she had very nasty morning breath. Emily stood in front of the bathroom mirror and picked up her tooth brush. He other hand she lifted and brushed her fingers over her mouth. She licked her lips and there it was – that taste. She looked back into the mirror and now saw the small bruises along her neck and across her shoulder. Bite marks…hard enough to mark – gentle enough to be from passion. She now ran her fingers over them.

"What's going on?" She asked her reflection. "Was I drugged? Is this some weird dream? The same as I had in the shower." She turned slowly on the spot and looked at the small shower cubical and then back to the mirror above the sink. Slowly and methodically she began to clean her teeth.

And her thoughts turned to Spencer and maybe she should call him. Just as a friend. Just to make sure he was alright. She was sure that if she was struggling

this much then for Spencer it must be like having part of you ripped away. She would offer and understanding shoulder to cry on. She thought he would appreciate that. As friends. Nothing more than that. Not with Spencer. She spat the toothpaste bubbles into the basin and then rinsed with a pink mouth wash which she also spat and then she ran her fingers slowly over her face, pushing her hair out of the way and peering at her bone structure and the shape of her eyes.

"Damn you Flanders." She muttered as she turned once more to the shower and stripped off to get the smells of the night off her skin.

-o-o-o-

Aaron called Rossi.

"We've not got anything on today. I need to get myself somewhere new to stay – I'm taking a personal day to sort things out. I also wondered if you could go and check up on Reid – you don't have the emotional attachment that the rest of us do. Call me if I'm needed."

He didn't give Dave any room to argue or talk him out of it and if Strauss wasn't happy then she would just have to suck it up and put up. He needed a day away from everything with his mind on something completely unconnected.

A few phone calls to his realtor and he was dressed in casual trousers of dark blue and a white short sleeved shirt.

The properties were mostly uninspiring depressing places for a single man to live. One bedroom en suit and kitchen diner with a separate lounge if he was lucky. Just not what he was after.

"I need you to find me something less – less – boring. Something different. Something I can invite my brother and son over to stay. I need more than one bedroom and I need a proper decent sized bathroom. I asked for 'not big' I didn't ask for 'compact'."

The Realtor pursed her lips at the very awkward and fussy handsome dark haired man. "Do you want me to call you back or go through the list now? It might take me a while."

"I'm paying you. I can wait but I do expect you to find me something by the end of the day. I don't necessarily want something in a block. A single story dwelling with a small yard would be nice. I have a son. I need somewhere he can come and stay."

Again the face. "You should have made yourself clearer."

He left her to hook up her lap top in the car and went and sat on a wall. It was a crisp day, but not cold and right now Aaron felt almost content. It didn't last. The familiar feelings of being observed. Something out there watching him returned. He stood up and paced and then walked in big circles. How long was this woman going to take? What the hell was he paying her for? All he wanted was somewhere where he could lock his door at night and feel safe. Somewhere that felt like he could bring the happiness with him and leave the ghosts behind. How hard was that to find?

-o-o-o-

"OY! You – move on. You can't sleep here." The beat cop called out to the bum sleeping on the park bench. He turned a tired face to the police officer and nodded.

"Good morning to you too officer." He pushed himself up to sit and blinked. "I am assuming I am allowed to sit – this being a park bench."

"Just get up and move on." The rather tall particularly muscular officer responded.

He stood and heard his knees crack. "You will give me a moment to ……….."

"No – get out of here and I don't want to see you back when I return."

"Well – there will not be a fucking chance in hell of that officer, so don't you worry your pretty little self about it."

"Get out of here Mister and you watch your mouth."

He licked his lips. "My mouth – my mouth sir…" a small nod. " Is what makes me my money. I can assure you I am going to take very good care of it."

He turned before he was able to take the conversation to a place where he would be asking for some money and walked off.

"Where're you going?" A voice called behind him.

He stopped. "For a piss."

"Get out of the park!"

With mumbled words and a sideways glance at the tall cop Floyd walked back out towards the street. He would probably be back in the evening if it wasn't raining. He had to find somewhere else now that Spencer had tracked him down. He didn't want him following him around. He gave him what he did so he could carry on and be happy, not so he could drag him self down lower than that rat that he himself was.

Floyd was tired and hungry. He had no money and there was no way he was going to visit a homeless shelter. The past week or so had had devoured enough rodents to grow himself a his own fine pair of whiskers and now he just wanted to lay down and feel someone in his arms.

His very brief projected interludes with dear Emily were lovely – they left a nice scent of woman sweat on his skin but it wasn't the same. It would never be the same.

Decisions. He had a few choices. One of them was to give up completely and go home. He would only be tormented for a millennium. What's a few hundred years between friends? He could carry on whoring himself out, but that would require being clean. He could go back to his old home here. Not his home with Spencer. He couldn't go there. He would explode if he ever saw Spencer again. He would be able to lay traps and garden herbs. It would be like in the times before. When things were going right. Before he messed up. Before Spencer and before his princess.

He looked at his hands and smiled. Now he knew where he had to go and what he had to do. With a renewed vigour in his walk he began to walk towards the freeway in the hopes of hitching a lift home.

-o-o-o-

They must have passed each other. Morgan had barely left when the light tapping was heard on Spencer's door.

Reid assumed it was Derek back again and swung the door open to see a flushed Prentiss standing there.

"Emily!"

She put her hands on his chest and pushed him back into his apartment and kicked the door closed behind her.

"Reid. I am going to ask you some questions and you are going to tell me the truth."

He was backing off from this wild looking woman. "I always do – what's – what's – stop that – Emily! What's wrong?"

She was pushing him back into the lounge.

"Where is he?" She hissed at him.

"What?"

"Floyd – I can smell him on you. Where is he?" Her hands were resting on his chest but she had stopped pushing him back. Spencer raised his hands and put one on each of Emily's shoulders.

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. His lips brushed against her skin causing a shiver to run down her spine "Prentiss – I don't know where he is."

"Don't lie to me Spencer." She turned her head to look at him accidentally brushing her lips over his jaw. Her breaths where deep and hot against Reid's skin.

"Explain to me then – how you also smell of him? I can smell him in your hair Emily. I can smell him.." and now he was nuzzling into her neck. "On your skin."

"Spencer – I – you must stop – what the hell…?"

And one of his hands was resting on the side of her face and one was on the small of her back and his tongue ran over her lips. "I can taste him on you Emily." He breathed into her mouth and moved his hand to the back of her head and twisted his fingers in her hair.

"Reid – stop."

He moved his hand from her back and around to her hip. "What is it about me that you hate so much Emily?" He found the gap between her shirt and trouser waistband.

"I don't hate you Spencer." She could feel his fingers on her bare back now. "Please stop."

"You don't want me to stop."

"I want to find Floyd."

"You already have." And now his mouth was pressing against Emily's as he held her head in place with his right hand and pulled her in closer with his left.

For about two minutes she let Spencer give her a breathtaking lip crushing toe curling kiss. It was nothing like she ever imagined he would be like. He wasn't gentle. He pulled her hair and bit down on her lip and his nails dug into her back. When she finally remembered what the hell was going on she pushed back away from him and Spencer let her go. He stood against the wall with his arms at his side staring at Emily.

"Well…." He said "I wasn't expecting you to be such a dirty girl."

She slapped him hard across the face and still he stood and looked at her. She could see the hand print rising on his pale skin.

"Emily – I need to find him as much as you do. In the meantime we have each other. Small consolation I realise that."

Prentiss moved right away from this very strange Spencer. "Very small consolation! What the hell got into you?"

Still leaning on the wall but watching Emily he spoke. "Do you know when I last had proper sleep? Do you know what that does to a person….never sleeping…never able to sleep, just laying for hours staring at the ceiling listening to the night sounds. Listening to distant car alarms going off…listening to the world wake up when you can't sleep. The only comfort I get….the only respite….when I can relax is when I am going against every grain in my body Emily. I need to find him. I need to leave here now and go looking for him. I have a few ideas where to look. You may come with me or stay – I really don't mind."

Emily was walking in circles. "Where? Where are you going to look?"

A frown from Spencer. "First stop is the other side of the city. Does that mean you're coming with me?"

A quick nod. "Yes – yes I'm with you Spencer." She walked quickly over to him and placed a hand on the red cheek. "I'm sorry."

A tight smile and he placed his hand over hers. "There's bottled water in the kitchen. I just need to get something and we can go."

As Emily went to the kitchen Reid went to the bedroom and took the sample of hair and put it back in his pocket. With a sigh of happiness Spencer left the apartment with Emily. He closed the door and locked up securely.

It was good to know he had someone on his side. Someone who he was sure he could get to know just a bit better if she let him.

Emily was confused by this change in Spencer. She thought maybe he was having some sort of breakdown. She was not going to take advantage of him. It wasn't Reid she wanted.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5 Reid and Prentiss

Chapter 5

Reid and Prentiss

_Love is the immortal flow of energy that nourishes, extends and preserves. Its eternal goal is life: -__Smiley Blanton_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

They travelled in Emily's car in silence.

Reid gave general directions. The last part of it he wanted to walk. Her car would be easy to trace. Fine. Let them find it they would still be a long way from finding them.

Prentiss pulled over into a small parking area behind a twenty four hour store. "Now what?" She sat feeling too hot and sweaty and looked out of the side window.

"Now you lock up the car and we go look for him."

"Reid – they will find the car."

Reid rubbed at his nose. "Call in sick. That'll give us a couple of days."

He pushed open the door and slid out into the morning sunshine. He squinted into the sun and then looked back at Emily. She was going to get so hot and sweating in those trousers. Maybe he would suggest she got something else to put on – but then the image of the sweaty Emily made him lick his lips. He leaned back into the car to hear the end of the conversation.

"I will probably be fine in a couple of days – yes I think it was the chicken – have to – uh – go!" And she snapped the phone shut.

"Turn it off and leave it here. I don't want them tracking us."

She looked at the cell phone in her hands and nodded. "I don't like this. Running - it feels wrong. We should tell someone what's really going on."

Reid scratched at his neck. "You want to tell them? I thought this was between the two of us Emily. I thought this was our little thing." He was crouched down now outside the car but looking in at her still holding the phone.

"You're right – I know – I think – it just feels dishonest." Prentiss frowned but nodded and placed it in the glove compartment. She looked at the hand gun she had in there and looked over at Reid. She snapped the small door closed and locked it before Reid could see it. She still had the gun she was carrying on her belt. She didn't need to have the spare and Reid's firearm had been taken from him probably for good reason.

They started to walk. Reid in front and Emily just behind him. It sort of brought back memories of following Floyd through the forest. Reid somehow had a similar way of walking – but still not the same. Reid kept his elbows tight at his side and he almost swayed as he walked. From behind it was mesmerising. She wondered if he realised that he was walking like that. Was it natural or some kind of affectation he had picked up somewhere. Whatever the answer she found her eyes locked on Reid's behind.

The area they walked in became seedier and seedier. The small boutiques slowly gave way to boarded up premises and sex shops. The other people walking down the street changed slightly too. The female to male ratio had changed. Now the street walkers seemed to be very odd looking women or young men. She felt decidedly uncomfortable here, but Reid just carried on walking. The speed of his pace didn't change. Head down he just carried on. Emily walked quickly behind him wishing not for the first time in her life that she was a guy.

They passed clubs small bars. When Spencer suddenly stopped she nearly walked into the back of him. She placed a hand between his shoulder blades to keep her balance and it sent a bolt of electricity through her body.

"Reid?"

He could feel her hand on him and now he could feel her sweet hot breath on the back of his neck. He had been trying to fight this all the time they had been walking, but he could feel Emily's eyes on him and he could sense her thoughts.

"A drink I think."

"A drink? Here?"

"Here is good. I'm a regular." He started towards the door but again her hand was touching him, this time on his arm.

"You drink here?"

Slowly he turned to look at her. Emily looked into Spencer's hazel eyes and she was sure she saw for a fleeting second another pair of eyes watching. "Why wouldn't I drink here?" Daring her to give the wrong answer. She shook her head.

"No reason, I just thought you were more of a wine bar type."

Spencer smirked.

He turned and walked towards the doors of the Ten Bells.

It wasn't as bad once she was inside. It just felt like a normal bar except it seemed to be only males here. Spencer grabbed her arm and guided her to the bar. "Emily – what do you want to drink?"

"Oh orange juice." She was now staring at Reid's profile. This was another thing she had never really noticed about him. His odd personality had always blinded her of what a beauty this man actually was.

Reid ordered the drinks and this time his hand holding onto Emily's he took her to a small alcove with about enough room for four people. They sat down. Spencer on the outside edge and Emily back in the shadows. Not that she was shy or anything like that, but she just didn't feel comfortable in this place at all. Not her scene in lots of ways. Reid however seemed to be totally relaxed.

"Spencer." She asked after taking a few sips of her drink. "Are any of these people friends of yours? Will they know where to find him?"

Reid put his glass down and poked at the drink for a while with his straw. "These? This lot in here? No Prentiss – we need to go a lot deeper before we find Floyd and to be really honest I don't think he will be here anymore. Not after last night." He took a sip of his juice through the straw.

"What happened last night?" Now it was Em's turn to play with her straw.

"I was – you know – getting serviced….and he took over. I knew the mouth Em. No one does it like him."

"Christ Spencer!" She turned and grabbed at his hands. "You – for gods sake! Why? What possessed you to do that?"

A small shrug.

"Maybe I like it? Maybe I'm not the nice clean cut nerd you all want me to be? Maybe we all have secrets?" He looked down at the hands holding his. "Maybe it was because I knew he would find me if I did that."

"And this is your intention again? That's whoring Spencer! My god, you can't do that!"

"Oh suck it up Emily." He hissed at her and snatched his hands away from hers.

"This is how you intend finding him? What am I meant to do while you are playing your sick game?" She was talking a bit loud now.

"Keep your voice down. Listen – you want to find him – I want to find him – are you saying now that you are placing limits on how far you will go to find him? If that's the case Prentiss go home – I'll do this alone."

She was vigorously shaking her head now. "I didn't say that – but Spencer – you can't do that to yourself. There must be another way."

The prodding of his drink was causing it to splash over the side of the glass on the table. "You have a better idea? I will be glad to hear an idea from you."

"How about asking questions – working on like this as profilers – You must know people you can ask. You say you know this area, that you – uh – work it – so to speak, then you must know who to ask. I am assuming that they don't know you are……"

"No they don't and I don't think I am anymore anyway so moot point princess."

She turned to face him again with a small scowl across her face. "What did you call me?"

He picked his glass up. "Princess. Drink up – if my mouth is going to be used for talking this might take longer."

"Reid." A hand was on his shoulder – but there was no response and so she dropped her hand away from him again and watched as he drank the last of his drink and wiped his sticky fingers along the legs of his dirty jeans.

"Let's go then." He stood and put a hand out for Emily. She noticed how long Reid's fingernails had got and how there was a build up of dirt behind them. She bit down on her bottom lip and going against everything she knew was right went with this new wrong Reid to find Flanders.

-o-o-o-

Stupid – stupid people.

When will they learn?

He picked up a ride easy enough. A pale faced pale skinned pale haired man in his thirties. He introduced himself as Reggy and Floyd introduced himself as Franks. Reggy asked how far he needed to go and he told him probably further than he was willing. Reggy gave Floyd a strange sideways glance wondering suddenly if this dirty stinking hitchhiker had been the wrong person to pick up today.

Reg would have preferred a girl. They were more likely to give him a tip at the end of the journey.

"Do you smoke?" He shook a pack of cigarettes at Floyd – who in turn nodded and took one.

"Ta."

"So you're on a long trip then?" Now offering a box of matches.

"You could say."

"Uh hu. So you running or chasing? Everyone is either running or chasing after someone. What's her name?"

"Spencer – and I'm not running or chasing – just moving on."

"Uh hu."

"So I can anticipate picking up Spencer tomorrow then?"

Floyd turned to Reggy and smiled. "I should think so. Until then, may I pay for the ride?" And Floyd's filth encrusted hand moved over onto the leg of Reggy Waterman.

Again – true to form Floyd took what he wanted. And when Reggy was dead and laying in the ditch at the side of the road he look more. The car, Floyd drove off the edge of this busy road onto a very quiet little spot. He had then pushed Reg out and dragged him to the ditch he was now crouching in with him. He had done to Reg only what Reg had wanted to do to him. He pulled bits of the dead man's flesh off and sucked it into his mouth in long succulent slithers. He ran his long nails over Reg's face and put his fingers on the blue lips. The fingers he followed closely with his own lips licking and tasting the last breaths of Reggy Waterman.

Like an animal he stayed and protected his feast from the forest animals. He carefully removed bits to eat later. The heart he ripped out with an apology. "I know you were only trying to help Reggy, but you know….each man for himself these days, and I have a lot of making up to do before I can move on properly.

He squeezed the heart and sucked on the blood and then putting it in his pocket for later he just sat next to Reggy until the early hours of the morning.

He looked down at the forest floor and muttered. "I am doing what I can here. You didn't leave me much to work with."

-o-o-o-

Mary-Beth Waterman sat at the kitchen table chain-smoking. Reggy was late. He was very late and this bothered her a lot. He was either with some whore somewhere or he had been drinking again.

She rubbed absent mindedly at the bruise under her eye and then looked down at her chew and broken fingernails and waited for her loving husband to come home and beat the crap out of her because he could.

Tonight was a whole new beginning for Mary-Beth Waterman.

-o-o-o-

It was horribly obvious to Emily that Spencer was well known here. People nodded hellos to him and nodded invites. He nodded and did his strange shy wave back at them but didn't talk to them.

"They might have seen him."

Spencer stopped and turned to Em. "They haven't. He hasn't been here. I can't smell him Emily. He's gone." He put a finger on the end of her nose and smiled. "Don't worry. There is more than one place he could be. This is just the closest and probably easiest for us to search. Keep up." He turned and started to walk again into the darker dirtier parts of the alley way.

Emily walked quickly behind Spencer trying her best to ignore the noises coming from either side of her. She dug her hands deeply into her pockets and kept her eyes locked on the back of Reid's head.

The alley way eventually opened up into a courtyard. The backs of warehouses made up the square. A few doors set into them. They all look disused and disgusting. Well disused by what they had been built for anyway. Spencer stood and looked around. He personally had never been down this far and so he wasn't completely sure what to expect. This was fine. If Floyd was here or had been here he would be able to find him.

Emily put her hand on Reid's arm. "We are going to have to search all these old derelict buildings?"

"No princess – no we won't. I will know if he has been here." He placed his hand over hers. "Shall we begin?"

The walked through the nearest door. It was hanging off its hinges. They stepped into the darkness together.

Emily could hear the sharp intake of breath that Spencer took. He then started taking in huge gulps of dank dirty air.

"Reid?" Her grip on his arm tightened.

"It's OK….He's not here. I don't think he has ever been here. I don't sense him. I can't smell him or – feel him."

Prentiss started to walk back out of the dark vile building. "You are sure?"

Reid allowed her to guide him back into the dim daylight. "No – not sure, I will know if he has been there. It's going to be harder to tell if he hasn't."

"I have to be honest with you Reid – I don't know what you are going on about." She started to walk to the next door. Reid didn't reply to her comment – he didn't know how to reply to it. He wasn't sure he knew what he was talking about either.

The next door creaked horribly and Reid instantly knew without going in there it wouldn't have been where Floyd had stayed. It just felt wrong. He would want somewhere he could come and go quietly not with this awful sound. He closed the door again and shook his head.

The next was a plain black door which pushed open. Spencer put his left hand out and took hold of Emily's right and then carefully pushed open the door. The smell was grotesque. It was like a million things had crawled in there and died and over the top of that was the heady musky scent of Floyd. The smell was so bad that Emily recoiled and put her hand over her mouth.

"He's not here now."

Prentiss made a strange gagging sound and looked at Reid with big eyes. "How could anyone be in there? My god what was he doing?"

"You want to go in and find out?" Reid gestured with his head. "Or shall we – uh – assume he's move on."

"Just close the door Spencer. Good god – that smell!"

Reid pulled on the small silver coloured handle and closed the door. He dropped his hand away from Emily's and ran his hands over the back of his neck. "I need to think. Go back to the car and I'll meet you there in an hour."

Prentiss looked around where they were and then back to Spencer. "No – I'll wait." She knew full well what he meant by thinking. "I don't know quite what has got into you Spencer but you need to calm down and back off away from it a bit."

He looked at Emily and gave her a tight smile. "I think I know where he would go, but it's just this odd gut instinct again. I can't explain it."

She grabbed hold of his hand. "You don't need to explain it and you definitely don't need to sell your body to get inspiration."

"But……"

"No – Spencer listen to me. Something dreadful happened in that forest that day but it was in the past and we have survived it and come out the other end. We now need to heal – and we are trying to do this is different ways. Hotch is moving home – Morgan is going to the gym more often – I – I well I am on this crazy road trip with you and you Spencer have to heal too and dragging yourself into the gutter isn't helping you – it's – not you."

"Not me?"

"Obviously not you! Call me crazy if you want but Spencer you are not acting like 'you' – you are using words you wouldn't normally – you are doing things you wouldn't have dreamed of before. Your clothes are filthy, it doesn't look like you've washed in days and you – you smell wrong."

"So do you – I can smell him on you Emily. I can taste him on you."

"Likewise. This isn't you Spencer – this is some trick Flanders is playing."

Reid started to walk back towards the alley way.

"Please Reid – at least consider it."

"He's going to Maine. We need to catch up."

"Wait! Reid just wait will you." She walked quickly behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I need to ask you something."

Spencer turned around and looked directly into her dark eyes. He raised his hands and tucked his hair behind his ears. "What's wrong?"

"Earlier – in your apartment. Is something like that likely to happen again?"

Reid put a hand on the side of her face. "You mean your slapping me?"

"You know full well what I mean."

Reid blinked. "Floyd by proxy."

"For both of us."

"Let's just see how things go shall we?" He took hold of Emily's hand and escorted her back down the alley way and then on towards where she had parked her car.

-o-o-o-

Aaron stood outside the small single story dwelling. It had a back yard and a small pretty front garden which was tended by the groundsman. It was a nice exclusive quiet area away from the traffic and away from the life he was trying to leave behind. A couple of cats wandered down the pedestrian walkway outside the Hispanic looking property. It was safe. It was nice …. "I'll take it."

"You haven't looked inside yet."

"I can see from the floor plans the layout and it has the rooms required. Send me the papers. I want to move in as soon as possible. I need the windows and doors replaced with the re-enforced ones we talked about."

The realtor was making notes on her pad. "Very well. I will bring the papers to you before ten this evening. If you don't mind a personal visit."

Aaron looked over at the harassed but friendly looking woman in glasses and shook his head. "I would love a personal visit. Pizza and wine good for a celebration?"

* * *


	6. Chapter 6 The Diner

Chapter 6

The Diner

**A/N: Yes I know Reid is OOC he is meant to be...just thought I would make that clear. Pb**

_If we have our own __why__ of life, we shall get along with almost any __how__. Man does __not__ strive for pleasure; only the Englishman does: -__Friedrich Nietzsche_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

He kept his head down and avoided eye contact. He thought he would probably stand out in the normal crowd, but this lot were far from the norm.

A train journey. Not something he did often, but today he felt compelled. He had cash from Reg Waterman and a ticket to take him as far as he needed – for now. One this train somewhere was his mark. He just needed to sit and think and then home in on it. It was female. He knew that much. He sat with his legs tightly crossed and his hands laying unmoving in his lap wondering if he had given Spencer too much of himself and not really left enough to keep himself going. Eventually he was going to have to take it back again and this would mean seeing Reid again and the though made the back of his eyes sting with anger.

Floyd could here the scuttling of small children and he could smell their young breaths. He wanted to look up at them but he knew that the time was getting close and well you don't want to get too involved with the case do you?

He could now hear the heavy breathing of a woman sitting next to him. She smelt of lies and drugs and that small tinge of death. There was something deep down eating away at her slowly. Floyd permitted himself a sideways glance at the woman. She was tall and leggy. Her skirt too short and her hair had too much bleach. The make up was overdone and the way she sat – that self righteous look on her face. Floyd did a small half smirk to himself and turned his eyes back to his lap.

Jem…her name was Jem could smell the guy she had sat next to – but they were the only seats left. The smell wafting off him was like something she had never experienced before. It was like he was decaying – she had smelt dead things before and that's exactly what this guy smelt off. She curled her lip in disgust and pinched the end of her nose.

"Kids stay here. I'm going for a piss."

He listened for a response from the children but there wasn't one. Just a strange silence. Floyd felt the shifting in weight as Jem got up and walked towards the rear of the train. He counted under his breath to ten and then still without looking at the children he got up and followed.

She was nearly at the washroom door when she get a waft of that smell again and a hand touched her between the shoulder blades.

"Excuse me." She could feel hot breath on the back of her neck. Slowly she turned around. "Wondering if you could help me."

She looked him up and down and now could see the face. A pretty face for a guy but he still stank and the smell made her want to gag.

"Not sure how I can." She snapped back at him and went to turn again.

"I really think you can." And he grabbed at her arm pulling her around again.

She put her hand over his and started to pry his fingers off her arm where they were digging into her soft flesh. "You will let go of me now Mister. This is a packed train and you won't believe how loud I can scream."

"I don't think you want to alert the authorities of your whereabouts do you though Jem?" He looked up into her blue eyes.

Jem's hand dropped from Floyd's and she stood thinking. "How the hell do you know who I am?"

"Not important, but I know you are a whore and a junky and that you are going to the washrooms not for a 'piss' as you so nicely put it, but to snort whatever that is you have in your pocket."

Her eyes turned from surprised to cold and calculating. "Screw you whoever you are. Let the hell go of me now."

"Or you will scream and have to explain why you have taken the kids your ex has custody over and are running away as fast as your drugged up legs can take you?"

"Who the hell are you?!" She hissed between her teeth at him.

He moved his hand off her arm and placed it on her shoulder. The other on the side of her head. He wound his fingers through her brittle blonde hair and with a quick 'snap' she was falling to the floor. He let her drop and stepped over her moving onto the next carriage towards the very rear of the train.

-o-o-o-

She pulled over into a small parking lot in the front of a diner.

"What are you doing?" Spencer looked out of the side window.

"I need to eat. When did you last eat something? If we are going to do this then we need to at least stay as healthy as we can."

Spencer nodded and pushed open the car door. "And Em. You need to change out of those trousers – or at least cut them down to something above the knee. You look too hot. And I do mean that as in temperature. You might need to wipe off the rest of your makeup too."

She pulled down the sun visor in the car and looked at her face in the mirror. He was right about the make up. "I have stuff in my flight bag." Emily slid out of the car and moved to the back.

"Get sorted then – I'll order us coffee and something to eat."

As Emily popped the rear door of the SUV she watched Reid walk across the parking lot. She was glad to see him walking more like Reid again. His elbows in tight and that odd swing of the hips he had.

She pulled baby wipes out of the bag she had in the back and wiped them over her face removing all traces of the day before's makeup. She almost considered re-applying but Spencer was probably right. She pushed the thought to the side and pulled out a pair of shorts. Really they were for lounging around in after work, not for being seen in public, but as the only person around who was likely to ever see her again was Reid she didn't feel it mattered. After all Reid didn't really count as someone she was bothered about. And so why was she fussing with her hair and finding a matching Tshirt and rubbing at her legs to make sure she looked OK for him?

Spencer's mind was fuzzy. It felt as though he had ants crawling over his brain. The headache coming was making his eyes water and there was a strange tingling at the back of his nose almost as though he needed to sneeze.

He pushed open the doors to the diner and walked to the counter. He pulled his butt onto the stool and put his elbows on the counter resting his chin on his hands.

"Can I help?" A slightly shrill voice that went right through him. He looked up and blinked at the dark haired Hispanic girl standing with an apron on over her slightly too tight blouse. He name badge said 'Hannan'.

"Coffee – for two. I'm going to be over there." He gestured to the empty bench seats by the back wall. He didn't fancy being a window display today. He slid off the stool again and grabbed a handful of paper napkins which he held under his nose. He looked back over at Hannan – "Nose bleed." Then back over to the empty seats. You have a cigarette machine or anything?"

A finger pointed past him and over at the opposite wall. He gave her a twitch of a smile and walked to the machine.

By the time Prentiss walked in Spencer was sitting with the coffee and a half smoked cigarette. He glanced over at her as she walked over looking much less the Fed and more the girl on a road trip. She had on dark blue boxer style shorts and a vest top. Her hair was tied back and on her feet she had trainers. She seemed to almost have a happy bounce to her step until she saw Spencer. She moved quickly and slid into the bench so she was facing him.

"You don't smoke." She looked at the open pack on the table.

"Nor do you." He almost snarled back. "But I bet you're gagging for one too."

She swallowed and let her finger play over the green and white pack. "I don't smoke. I never have done."

"Same – so why was I having cravings?"

A slow head shake. "I don't know, but put it out. It doesn't look right. You don't look right – did you order food?"

"I ordered coffee…You want food?"

"When did you last eat?" she watched his spoon go in circles around in his coffee. "Spencer – you must eat and you need to put that damned cigarette out."

"Don't tell me what to do Emily. You want to come with me to find him – then fine, but don't you try telling me what to do."

"I'm not – well I am – but this just isn't you." Prodding at the pack on the table.

"Order me some toast then – now back off and leave me. I'm thinking." He reached out to move the pack away from Emily's hands and brushed the back of her hand with his fingers. It was like a lightning bolt shot through them both. "Emily?" Spencer's voice was suddenly low and quiet. "What's going on?"

He stubbed out the smoke and looked down at his hand still just about touching hers.

"I have no idea Reid. I wish to hell I knew what was going on with you. I'm getting food. We both need to eat."

"Wait!" He grabbed her wrist before she could get away from him. "You feel it too don't you." It wasn't really a question.

She pulled her arm away from Reid's grip. "I don't know what I feel Reid. I have no idea what the hell is going on anymore."

He leaned forward over the table and whispered in her ear. "I can still smell him on you." One of his hands rested on her shoulder and as she moved away out of reach Spencer sat back again and started to stir his coffee.

-o-o-o-

He had waited.

Timing is everything. He didn't want to be observed as he slid out of that final carriage. He looked down at the rails sliding out from under the speeding train and stepped out into nothing.

He hit with a bone jarring crunch and rolled out of the way and into the ditch at the side of the rail track. He was bleeding. From his head somewhere and from his hands. Something felt wrong with his legs. He thought probably he had broken them…more likely shattered them, but that was ok. That was fixable. He could deal with that.

Floyd rolled to his side and vomited into the long grass. This hurt. This was a very painful experience. His stomach knotted and cramped and forced yesterday's meal from him in bloody slime covered lumps.

Slowly as the cramps subsided and he was able to push the pain back to some other dark miserable place he began to crawl away into the thick vegetation which formed a natural barrier between the rail tracks and the surrounding farmlands. He pulled plant life up and around himself to form a shield in case anyone came looking for the man who threw himself off the back of the train. If anyone bothered to look. He was really hoping he had time before they connected Jem's death with his apparent suicide. For now he had to just lay low and keep still and close his eyes and wait.

"Why are you making this so hard for me? I'm doing what you told me to do."

He wrapped his arms tightly around his dirty undernourished body and took a deep shuddering breath before sleep took over and let his healing begin.

-o-o-o-

He ordered the pizza and chose a nice bottle of wine. He showered and had a shave and pulled on a nice pair of black jeans and a dark grey shirt. He thought about a tie and then decided to just leave the top button undone….more friendly. Less official. He combed his hair back off his face and then waited downstairs for the visitor.

Hotch paced the room and checked the bottle of wine and got glasses out and then thought it was a bit forward and put them back. He hadn't felt this nervous in years. Stupid – A drink to calm the nerves.

Aaron was just about to take his first sip when the door bell rang. A knot of fear raced through his stomach – what if it wasn't her? Slowly he walked towards the door glancing briefly down at the holes in the hall floor where he had been staked out for a while. He stood facing the front door with a growing amount of sweat appearing on his brow. When the bell sounded again he leapt forwards opening the door with one hand and swiping the back of his hand over his forehead with the other.

She looked cute. The hair she had normally scraped back into a pony tail was hanging down and bouncy – her face looked relaxed and calm. In one hand she had a file of papers and the other a pizza.

"I met the delivery man on the way in."

"Ah." A smile. "Come in Miss Buckley."

She stepped in and handed Aaron the pizza. "Call me Rosie."

"How much do I owe you?" he asked as he took her coat.

"Oh don't be silly – do you realise how much money you have made me by agreeing to sign this? The pizza is on me."

-o-o-o-

He watched Emily walk to the counter and say something and then leave the diner. Reid pushed the cup to the side and got up to follow her. She hadn't walked past the windows to the right and so Spencer was confident that she had gone left. He followed as quickly and quietly as he could. As he rounded the corner of the building he saw he standing under a Perspex hood of a public call box. Silently he walked up behind her. Finally putting a hand on her arm and asking.

"Emily – who are you calling?"

He heard her gasp and drop the phone and start to turn around. "Spencer – I…"

"Deceitful little whore!"

She wasn't expecting the fist in her face and he hands were still scrabbling for loose change in her pocket when Spencer's fist met the side of her head. She let out a surprised yelp and pulled herself together pretty quick.

"What the hell's got into you?!" And now she was easily defending the flying fists coming in for her. "Stop it for god's sake Reid! I was calling a car hire company!" But now he had hold of her hair and was pushing her hard back against the side of the diner.

"Don't you lie to me! I know when you are lying you little bitch!" He attempted a knee in her solar plexus but Emily was by far the better at hand to hand and was dodging his strikes easily – all except for the hand in her hair.

She could feel his hot breath on her face – he stank of dirt and cigarettes and coffee – it made her want to be sick. This wasn't the Spencer she had grown to – well not love exactly – but put up with. This was some horrible Floyd/Reid hybrid.

"Get off me!" and now she was kicking at his shins and her hand was across his neck. As soon as the distance was correct she brought her knee up hard. The effect was instantaneous. Reid released his grip and with a strange howl he bent double vomiting his sweet coffee out onto the hard packed soil.

Emily watched for a minute and then put a hand on Reid's arm. "I'm sorry – Spencer." She really had nothing else she wanted to say – but for Em this road trip was well and truly over. She listened to the gagging and coughing sounds as Reid now crouched down in the dirt and let the tears of pain fall as he held his head down hiding his humiliation from her face. Taken out by Prentiss.

"Leave – me – alone." His words came out in short sharp bursts.

She stood and watched what had once been the innocent genius coughing and spitting in the dirt. "I'm sorry Reid."

And now he looked up at her. "Well I'm not." Slowly he got to his feet and stood with his back against the timber building. "I thought we had something Emily."

She shook her head. "Had something?"

"I know you don't like me. That is so obvious, but you know I thought finally we had something – some common ground apart from work that would maybe help."

She walked over to him and put her hand under his chin. "I never disliked you Spencer – I just don't understand you. You confuse me and recently – well this – common ground – has just made it more confusing."

Reid moved a hand over to the side of Emily's face. "Did I hurt you?"

"No – no it was a shock really."

"Uh – good – good that I didn't hurt you." He chewed on his bottom lip. He could smell Floyd so strongly on her that it was making his head spin again and when he looked up into her eyes he could see she was thinking the same thing.

It was small. He just rested his mouth on her shoulder. He desperately needed that taste in his mouth. That deep dark musky taste and as he ran his tongue over her shoulder and towards her neck he could feel her hands moving around to his back and sliding up under his grubby shirt.

"You just taste so good." Spencer breathed out onto her lightly tanned skin as she dug her fingernails into his back and took in the heady musky smell that Spencer had oozing from him.

But in Spencer's foggy mind this was Floyd he was holding and Floyd's smell he could smell and his mouth his was seeking and crushing and sucking at with his, and in Emily's confused mind it was Flanders who was touching and holding and licking and biting at her and it was Flanders whose back her nails were digging into as she pushed against Reid and he pushed back wanting something from Emily she was completely unable to give.

-o-o-o-

He awoke from a dream where he was with angels. He scrabbled and tore at them trying not to tip and end up in the abyss…but they smiled and pushed and their voices were like water as he fell and crashed.

Floyd opened his eyes. He could taste Emily Prentiss on his lips which he licked greedily.

"Well done babes. You're doing good. Bring her to me."

He closed his eyes again and slipped back into his chasm.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7 A Room For The Night

Chapter 7

A Room For The Night

**A/N: NonCon/slash warning…sorta...mild **

_Habit and routine have an unbelievable power to waste and destroy: -__Henri de Lubac_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Most of the time he crawled. He travelled by night and slept under the cover of trees and old barns during the day. He kept to himself and kept his head down. He wanted to get back. He could feel the place pulling him right back to the beginning almost.

He wiped at the nose bleed and frowned. For day's now he had no respite from this. He needed to get stuff together. The continual dripping from his nose was becoming annoying and tipping back his head and letting the blood slide down the back of this throat had become nauseating. For now as the light began to show through the branches he stood with his back to a tree and took a deep breath. He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to work out how much further he had to travel. He was moving faster now his body and soul were healing, but both were still undergoing a lot of repair. This was the middle of nowhere. Deep in the forest and he was hungry and tired of the taste of blood in the back of his throat and on his lips and he needed Spencer. Right now he needed him. Just to see him and touch him and smell him – but it was going to have to wait. He just hoped that the gift was keeping him well and that he would bring Emily safely to him.

Floyd slid down the tree and pulled his legs up close. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his head on his knees. He dreamed again of the angels and of the bottomless pit and of screaming and awoke to feel something cold pressing on the side of his face.

-o-o-o-

The two of them kept quiet. Prentiss didn't know what to say to Reid and Reid wasn't about to start up a topic of conversation with her. She pulled up into a parking lot next to a car hire company.

"We need to change the car Reid."

"I know." A long sigh. "You sort that – I want to go and do something." He didn't move though, he just sat and looked out of the window and then turned back to Prentiss. "Don't follow me."

"Where are you going? Reid you can't just walk of and not at least let me know where you will be." She looked over at Spencer who seemed to had changed again since the incident at the diner.

"I'm not sure but I'll meet you back here in the morning. Get a room." He started to get out of the car but Prentiss grabbed him by the arm.

"I need to know where you are going Reid. You can't just say you'll see me in the morning."

He swivelled around in the seat and looked at Em. "I am not your son, nor your lover. Let go of my arm. I can see no reason why I have to tell you where I am going."

"Then at least let me tell you where I will be." She didn't let go yet. For some odd reason she felt very uncomfortable letting Reid out of her sight – or at least not having contact with him.

He pulled his arm away from her. "Prentiss – I don't want to know where you will be. I need to go and do something and to be honest knowing where you are will be a distraction. Here – tomorrow – around ten. The we can get going properly. Somehow it feels like we need to hurry." He climbed out of the car and turned to watch Emily stand on the driver's side.

"Tomorrow then." She said but didn't look happy about. "And Spencer – please be careful."

Without more than a slight smirk he turned and walked away.

Emily walked over to the car hire place. She had the chance now to just leave. Forget this stupid idea and get back in her car and go home. Let Reid sort it out himself, but something as stopping her. Something deep inside was telling her to get the car sorted and wait. Wait for Spencer. Wait for that little thing inside of Reid which wasn't him anymore. With a sigh she pushed open the doors of the small building and approached the desk.

She felt unseasonably hot and sweaty. She could feel the water running down her legs and between her shoulder blades.

"Can I help you missy?"

A sigh. She hated not being able to flash her badge and get respect from people like this. "I need something for a few days."

A scratch of the head. "What sort of something?"

A frown crossed Emily's brow and then a slight smile. "You have bikes? Or only cars?"

"We have bikes."

Prentiss smiled sweetly at the guy behind the counter and began to do business.

-o-o-o-

Spencer didn't know this city but he could easily tell where to go. It seemed natural the way the place pulled him towards it. He kept his head down and walked as much as he could in the shadows of the shop fronts. Even when someone walked into him with a mumble apology he didn't look up or stop. His mind was set on doing this one thing and he needed to concentrate.

Again as before when he had been with Prentiss these streets slowly began to change. At first the type of shop – and then the boarded up fronts and cheep merchandise and gradually the sex shops and the seedier side of life emerged. Still head down the kept walking towards his destination. The concentration of street walkers became a joke. Every other step someone was attempting to stop him now.

"Hey you want some?"

"Good afternoon sweetheart."

"I've got a room if you have the time darling."

He walked past them without looking up. Dirty street scum. He could smell their dirt. He could smell their disease. He wondered why they thought he would be interested in them.

Still head down and now walking at a quicker pace to escape this area he walked onwards. The hookers made way to beggars and junkies. Again they called out to him offering him goods and asking for change and again he wondered why they thought someone like him would be interested in conversing or dealing with such filth.

Reid couldn't see how dirty his hair was and how it hung in greasy clumps either side of his sick looking face. He couldn't see the grime encrusted into his jeans and the smears of blood and dirt over his once white shirt. He did see how he looked lower down the chain than some of the people here living on the streets and if Reid had looked in a mirror now he wouldn't have recognised his face. He would have seen the diseased ridden junky rent boy that he looked like.

It was a place like all the other places in all the other cities anywhere. A long dark narrow street backing onto bars and clubs dedicating themselves to the gay scene. The clubbing wasn't something that interested him at all, but the backroom games were. This though still wasn't what he was here for. First a drink. He needed a drink and he needed a smoke, and he was in desperate need for something extra. Something to give his mind a boost. Just a little something.

Spencer entered the bar and stood at the counter. It was just past mid morning now and still a bit early to start drinking but he needed this before he felt he could do the rest. However much Floyd was pushing him internally he still could feel enough of himself left to know maybe this was slightly wrong.

He ordered a double whiskey and found a quiet corner where he hoped he would be left alone for a while.

As Emily was pulling up outside a motel on a big Harley – Reid was kneeling on the men's room floor bringing up the drink he had been consuming. His head was spinning and his very empty stomach was in fierce cramps demanding it was emptied immediately. He could feel hot tears running down his cheeks as he dry heaved into the filthy stained toilet as he knelt in the dampness of the dozens of missed shot from previous users of the establishment. The only saving grace he could think of right now was that since his hair cut he could use both hands to hold his shaking body over the vile hole he was barfing into and not get stomach contents stuck to his hair.

Finally he was able to sit back on his heels and rub at this eyes with his fingers. This wasn't going to work. He couldn't do this.

"Floyd – where the hell are you? What do you want of me?"

He slowly stood and made his way to the wash basins. Not only did he smell of his own vomit and bodily fluids but other peoples too. He stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirror and wondered where he had suddenly gone and why Floyd was pulling him back after rejecting him. He wanted just for a second to be inside Floyd's head to try to work out what this was all about. Why was he smelling Floyd on Prentiss, why was Emily smelling Floyd on him? What the hell was his game? Why did he feel the need to do what Floyd was telling him to do.

He moved from the basins and staggered from the men's room and straight out into the now dim late afternoon light. He could start now. Start doing what Floyd needed. He staggered through the doors and then back down towards the street he had come across earlier. It actually backed onto the bar he had just been in. With one hand brushing along the wall of the building to keep his walking as straight as he could he rounded the corner into hell.

-o-o-o-

Emily had a long shower and this time seemed to be left alone in her own thoughts without someone else's encroaching and touching. She soaped herself thoroughly and then washed the dirt out of her hair. She wished Spencer would do the same. It hadn't been that long since either of them had had the chance to shower but it felt like a lifetime of dirt she was washing off. As her thoughts drifted to what she had done and how Reid had touched and pushed against her she turned the water on a bit hotter. She needed to get the feeling of Spencer's mouth on her skin away and she was seriously worried about how this was going to effect their work. That was if they still had jobs after this.

She picked up a nail brush and scrubbed at her hands and then her shoulders. She cleaned her nails and then just stood under the water washing over her tanned skin wondering what the hell she was playing at. She needed to call Hotch. To call Rossi. To call anyone. She had to tell someone where she was and what she had planned.

Quickly she washed the soap out of her hair and stepped out of the shower. She pulled a white towel around her and started to walk to the small bedroom.

It really did feel as though someone had pushed her. She would have sworn in court that is what happened. She clearly felt the hand between her shoulder blades on her bare wet skin. She could remember feeling the force of the sudden shove and her feet sliding out from under her. Emily put her hands out to catch her fall and almost managed it. Her body didn't land too hard on the white tiled floor but her head still caught the door frame. She lay for a second or two wondering who would have done that to her. She tried to turn her head to look but all she could see now were shadows and all she could hear was a slight whisper and the feel of a kiss on the back of her neck.

-o-o-o-

He took himself deep down into the shadows and leaned on the wall next to a big commercial bin. The smell from the refuse around him was covered up by the smell of blood from his own nose. He pinched his nose and tipped his head back against the wall feeling the blood sliding down the back of his throat. It didn't work for him the same as it would have for Floyd. Spencer just started gagging and choking leaning forward spitting into the litter surrounding him. he wiped his nose on the arm of his sleeve and leaned forward until the bleeding stopped. He then rolled his sleeves up to disguise the mess and pushed his hair away from his face.

Spencer didn't have to wait long. Any time of the day there would be someone up to wanting a bit of fun. This guy was a bit taller than Spencer and looked like he spent most of his days in the gym.

The communication was light.

A nod.

A nod as a reply.

A gesture away from the area.

A frown.

"I have a room."

A nod from Spencer as he pushed away from the shadows and followed this tall strong stranger out of the place he had been hiding and down deeper into the filth of the area.

As Emily lay bleeding on the bathroom floor Reid followed the fair haired guy through a door way in what looked like to be an abandoned building. The place was infested with roaches and there were obvious signs of rats. Needles and other bits littered the floor and in the corners and along the walls young and old alike lay and muttered and mumbled in various drug induced stages of life. Spencer ignored all of this and kept his eyes on the back of this new guy he was following. Another door way which was unlocked with a key. The face turned to Reid.

"My place."

Not much for conversation Reid just followed him in.

The room held a bed. That was the only actual real furnishing. There were chains on the wall and hanging from the ceiling. Around the bed on the walls at different heights and placements were large metal rings. As Spencer stood and took in his surroundings he heard the door behind him being locked at the same time he realised that there were no windows. The room was lit by a single bulb hanging from the middle of the room.

Spencer had a very nasty feeling that he had taken on a hell of a lot more than he could handle. A quick blow in a side street was a long long way from what he seemed to be facing now.

"I – uh."

"No talking. Strip."

Reid's eyes flickered again around the room and to the door and back to the guy and slowly shook his head. "There's been a mistake." Whatever bravado Floyd had given him to do this in the first place was very quickly slipping away. He tried to pull up information on how to deal with this but there was nothing. He did the only thing he could think of doing right now and walked to the door.

"I'm sorry." He took the door handle in his hand and twisted and pulled and of course he knew it was locked – and he knew he wouldn't be walking out of this room yet but he needed to at least show this person that he was not a willing participant in these games.

A large hand rested on his shoulder.

"Boy – I am paying you for this so just do what I want. Strip."

A small shake of the head as he turned to face the guy he had willingly come here with.

"I make a mistake. I don't do this." He gestured around the room.

The guy grinned. "You do now. You are new – I haven't seen you before. The new ones are always the more fun." And the fingers of this man were starting to undo Reid's shirt.

Spencer reached a slightly shaking hand up and placed it over the one touching his shirt. "Stop."

Obviously this wasn't a word that dear Gert was used to hearing – and if he did he chose to ignore it. Reid wasn't quite sure how it happened but one second he was standing facing this mountain of a man and the next he was on his knees with his hands being held behind his back. He tried to get up and move away to get as far away as he could but the coldness of the metal was already being clipped into place around his wrists. Spencer let out an alarmed yelp as memories of being held by Taki came racing back into this mind.

He stopped moving. Every muscle in his body locked him into place kneeling on the stranger's floor. He sat back on his heels and looked that the floor. He had no real idea what this man was going to do to him but he could take a blind guess and be quite accurate and this he could blame on no one but his own stupid half drunk self. He could hear movement behind him. The sounds of clothes being removed. The thump of shoes being thrown across the room and all Reid could do was kneel. The fear of what would happen if he tried to move was over riding the fear of what would happen if he didn't.

He now grabbed Spencer by his hair and moving to the side of him pulled him so he was leaning forward. Reid did what he was asked and stayed once again where he had been positioned. Now hands were touching his jeans and unbuttoning his waist band.

"Please don't. I don't want this." But his words were so quiet he wondered if he had actually said them. He felt the big strong hands pulling the jeans down as far as his knees and then he was being manoeuvred again so that his chest was against the side of the bed.

"Lighten up boy. You'll enjoy it."

He pulled against the cuffs holding his hands now he could feel the man touching his bare skin and every tiny bit of whatever it was Floyd had given him was gone and all he had left was the fact that he was in a room with a locked door and no windows and chains and god only knew what else and he had his hands cuffed behind his back kneeling on a dirty floor with something very cold behind taken from a small tube and used on him – which was a very small comfort as that was the only preparation he did provide.

With one hand holding the back of Spencer's head and the other gripping his shoulder he used Reid like you would any common whore.

All Reid could do now was let this person take him like the dirt he obviously was for being here in the first place. He would love to lay the blame on someone else, but this had all been because he thought it was what Floyd wanted from him. This however he knew was not what Floyd wanted. This was what Taki wanted.

The tears and the snot and the licking of the lips was from pain and frustration not from any cell in his body enjoying this experience.

He turned his mind off from the hammering his body was getting. He tried to ignore the moans and groans from behind him and he wanted desperately to pretend that the hand in his hair twisting and pulling his head back and the one with the fingers digging into his shoulder weren't there, but this was something he was finding very hard to phase out. Small involuntary noises from the back of his throat and from where he was being forced hard against the side of the bed seemed to fuel the big guy even more.

It was probably all over much quicker than the eternity it felt like. As Reid was released and let to flop his head forwards and rest on the dirty mattress the voice spoke.

"You need to learn to relax. I'll give you five minutes." He felt fingers touch his arm and the cuffs were removed. "Get cleaned up." A box of tissues was thrown on the bed next to him.

Spencer sunk back down so that he was sitting on his heels again and pulled tissues out to wipe at his face. He felt stupid. He had never felt so low and disgusting.

As Prentiss began to awaken Reid was being dragged by his hair across the floor to kneel about central to the room. Again the tried to cut out what was going on around him but as his wrists were grabbed again Spencer started to defend. Still half undressed it wasn't the easiest thing to do. He attempted to stand and stop whatever this person was going to do with him next.

"Keep still. Don't move."

The words had an immediate effect on him. His hands went to the floor and he tipped his head down. Every nerve in his body was screaming for him to move to get away but something in his head was keeping him firmly on the spot.

"Good – you learn quickly." A hand was pulling his head up now so their eyes met. Spencer blinked away the self loathing he was feeling inside as the man stood and let the hair go again. "You've got a pretty face. You could do better than be a common rent boy you know."

He stayed silent. Telling this man that he was a Fed was probably not the right thing to do. He wanted to – his brain was telling him to correct him but he managed not to. He took in a deep breath and concentrated on what Gert was doing behind him this time. Again his arms were pulled behind his back and his wrists secured. Reid's only thoughts now were that if he did good – if he did what this guy wanted then maybe he wouldn't hurt him. Maybe he would just use him and let him go. A small almost laugh tried to escape when he thought of how much money he was earning here tonight.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8 Cameras

Chapter 8

**A/N: NonCon and drugs warning**

Cameras

_What the human eye observes causally and incuriously, the eye of the camera notes with relentless fidelity: -__Berenice Abbott_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

There were voices but too far away and faint for him to make out what they were saying. It sounded like someone was shouting or screaming and – well the rest he couldn't figure out.

Floyd attempted to open his eyes but found that was just not going to happen right now. Actually the more he thought about it – and this thinking thing was not too easy either at the moment – the less he seemed to be able to do. He tried moving his hands….and curling up his toes but it just wasn't going to happen. He could feel that he was laying on the ground and that was about all he could manage to sense. He wondered for a short while if he was actually breathing still. He concentrated on this fact and discovered that - no he wasn't.

Now with the small amount of time he felt he had left here he listened for the sound of his heart – it was there in the background somewhere but not pumping as it might – it was hibernating. Keeping safe. Keeping him safe. He could feel something dribbling from the corner of his mouth and he thought it was probably blood, maybe just drool….it didn't really seem to matter.

-o-o-o-

"Shit Kelly – what you shoot it for?"

"Dang hell shit! I don't know!"

"You just shot the dudes brains out over a tree and you don't know why?"

"I was just gonna scare him…."

"Well he's gonna have one helluva a fright when he wakes up from that!"

"Screw you Kelvin - Like you've never shot no one before?!"

"Well not someone sleeping I aint!"

"Just makes you so much better then does it? That they saw you coming?"

"See if he's got any money on him and let's get the hell out of here."

"I'm not touching him!"

"Damn you Kelly!"

The voices faded as they walked off back the way they had come.

"I'll come back tomorrow."

"What the hell for?"

"Want to watch him rot. Might bring the camera."

"You're one sick dude you know that?"

-o-o-o-

And suddenly the feet of the man mountain were in front of him again and hands in his hair pulling him up off his haunches and onto his knees.

"You're meant to be entertaining me." The voice sounded out of breath – but Spencer for now wanted to keep his eyes shut now having a very good idea what was coming next. "Pleasure me – and make it good. You only have your mouth."

He allowed his eyes to open a small crack to see the hugeness of the thing in front of him. Reid turned his head and began to scuttle back on his knees.

"This isn't – this – this isn't what……."

"What you expected? They all say that. You'll get used to it. Until then don't you move. Stay just where you are."

And again his neural pathways betrayed him and Taki's rules snapped into place. He sunk back down onto his heels and let his head drop.

"Get up off the damned floor and do your job!"

Now cross messages. One telling him not to move and to stay silent and keep his head down….Another telling him to move and uh well…keep his head down. He finally decided that the damage Taki could do was far worse than what Gert was asking and so he sat back and kept his head down.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You sell your arse on the streets but wont blow me?"

No reply.

"I get it. You like a bit of roughing up first? You need to be high? I can arrange both for you."

Nothing. Total silence.

And then the pain started. A hard push from a hand had Reid on his back with his cuffed hands trapped behind him. He quickly opened his eyes and looked up at the man standing above him before the kick to the side of his head sent his vision into a strange spin. Still half undressed he now attempted to roll onto his side and escape the hand which was now reaching down and grabbing hold of the front of his dirty white shirt.

Gert was far too quick for the wriggling Spencer. He pulled him up so that his shoulders were off the floor and with his free hand delivered a punch to the side of Spencer's still giddy head. He released an 'umph' sound and he felt his teeth cut into the inside of his cheek. And now a well aimed foot caught Reid in an unprotected area which was still recovering from the knee it had received from Emily.

The guy was still holding on tightly to the front of Spencer's shirt and was dragging him forwards whilst Reid coughed up blood which had been gathering in his mouth and made a long drawn out howl of complete pain. This time he wasn't even given the comfort of getting into a less painful position. Gert was dragging him to the bed as he dry heaved and his nose ran and his eyes watered and now as he was lifted and thrown onto the filthy lice ridden bed he had a very nasty feeling that Gert was going to refuse to pay.

-o-o-o-

They sat of separate couches and Aaron signed the papers and they smiled. It was a good feeling. He hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. For once things seemed to be good. He had found a nice place to transfer to and now he was enjoying a friendly drink with a nice lady.

She packed all the paperwork up and stood.

"You're going?" Hotch looked at the uneaten pizza.

"No – I wasn't intending to. I was just going to put the paperwork somewhere safe." She walked out to the hallway and placed the folder on the table. She was feeling a happy warm glow inside as she turned and walked back. This time sitting on the same couch as Hotch – but right at the other end. Easier to reach the pizza.

"So divorced?" she plunged into the questioning.

"Recently." He opened the pizza box.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's one of those things."

"Same here. He couldn't cope with my odd working hours. It's not nine to five you know working doing this job. He didn't seem to see it like that."

"I completely understand."

"I love my job though you see, wouldn't give it up for anything."

Aaron nodded. "Help yourself. I'll open the wine."

Hotch got up and picked up the bottle of wine. He was feeling oddly nervous around this woman and he didn't know why. Some sort of miracle took place when he opened the bottle and the cork didn't get stuck and he didn't slice anything open with the cork screw. He looked over at Rosie and smiled.

"Oh I love red wine. I hope you have nice big glasses." And a very nice not too big not too shiny not too white smile.

"I've got beer mugs if you'd rather." A rare moment of humour from Aaron.

When he sat down again he found he was sitting slightly closer to Rosie and she seemed to have moved over a bit too. They didn't touch. They didn't really look at each other that much, but they talked. Aaron told Rosie about Jack and Rosie told Aaron about her cat.

"You have no children?"

She now looked directly at Aaron. "I think that you really need to be in a very good stable relationship before you start on that route. Even what appears to be set in concrete can crumble as soon as a child is involved and I never thought I had that sort of a relationship with my husband. Too delicate was that balance and now I know I was right. It failed without the added pressure of children."

And she tipped another glass of wine down her throat.

-o-o-o-

As his brain tried to reorganise itself, once again he felt his hands being released but this time they were just pulled around and re-cuffed in front of him.

"Do you know what? I think you need to learn to relax a bit."

Reid who was now on his back pulled his knees up tightly to his chest and tried desperately to pull his jeans back up again – but a hand grabbing his ankle pulled his leg down again.

"I said you need to relax. Put your hands above your head."

A shake of the head. He wasn't going to do what this person was asking. He wasn't going to be used like this – he didn't want this, and so why was his stomach twisting in excited knots as he felt Gert pull his hands up and link the cuffs to one of the rings on the wall….and why was his body betraying him like this.

"There you go! I knew you'd get into the swing of this. I thought maybe I'd invite some friends around for the party."

Reid's eyes shot open again. "NO!"

Which was probably the wrong thing to say, but sometimes Spencer's mouth just blurted out what his brain told him to.

Things began to happen now in such a while that his mind couldn't react to the different thing happening quickly enough. Gert was straddling the struggling Reid now who was writhing and trying to get the man off him. One of Gert's hands was now holding a bit of cloth. He smiled down at Spencer as he placed the cloth with a hard hand over Reid's nose and mouth. Initially Reid thought that he was going to be gagged, but Gert just held it there, not preventing Reid from breathing, but forcing his breaths to take down the fumes from the chemical on the rag. It stank of gasoline and at first made him gag but as that first feeling of surprise and a touch of fear passed he lay back and let the ether take control of him. There was in reality nothing he could do to stop it.

Gert sat and watched the glazed look gradually come over Reid's face. He pulled back and slipped off him and pulling on a bath robe went and unlocked the door.

"Who's up for a party?!" He bellowed out into the large room in front of him. "Someone go get Lemmy." A few scuttling noises and doors opening and shutting then a couple of guys walked over. One of them had very visible track marks up his arm, the other just looked tweaked.

"How much?" The tweaker asked.

Gert looked over his shoulder at the pathetic thing laying on his bed. "I don't think money is a suitable exchange here. Just go enjoy – and remember you owe me."

Tweaker smiled and walked past Gert into the room.

"And remember – absolutely no smoking – I don't want you to blow this place up too."

They guy turned and grinned a rotten toothed brown smile at Gert. "But that was a blast!" he then turned and walked over to Spencer who was now making odd noises and rolling his head from side to side.

Spencer wasn't completely sure how he got here but this was a nice place. It was very dark but hanging around him like long crystal shards of something he couldn't get his head around was loveliness that he was unable to find a name for.

He thought probably he might have died. This would explain a lot. It would explain the way he was laying on the ceiling looking down at some filthy rent boy on the bed. He wanted so much to stretch his arms out but they seemed to be attached to the – thing he had no name for but it was stopping him from moving. A tendril? A life line maybe. Something so he could pull himself back again…..for now he floated and laughed at the scene going on below him and shook his head to try to get rid of the fog filling his mind.

As he watched the person below him get pulled and pushed and rolled over and touched he started without wanting to – enjoy it – he wanted more of it….and when this person stopped and stood back Spencer let out a long moan of disappointment. He wanted to touch the person down there too but still his hands were where he couldn't move them. He closed his eyes and moved to try to get a better look but this time things were different. The person down there was being pulled back onto his back and Gert was there and Gert was taking money this time and nodding. He wanted to hear the words he wanted to know what this new person was doing but he couldn't concentrate. Again he started to shake his head and let out sounds of disappointment but things worked out differently this time.

Reid was suddenly on the bed looking up at a twitchy young man. He was here for whole different reasons than the last one. The cuffs were detached from the bed and Reid was half carried half dragged to some chains on the wall where he was re-attached. Still he was half dressed and so Gert took the chance now to remove Spencer's jeans and shoes and turn him so he was facing the wall. His hands now above his head at full stretch.

"Having fun? I think you are? I doubt you've ever enjoyed yourself so much in one evening before have you?"

He didn't answer. He wasn't given the chance to answer. The stinking rag was again put over his mouth and nose and held there for a few minutes.

Reid looked at what was happening from across the room. They had him chained against a wall this time and he noted how he was naked from the waist down. He smiled. This person looked nice from the back….maybe a bit skinny.

He let himself have a little laugh again as he watched him pulling at the chains and swaying side to side almost as though he was drunk.

It looked like the whip had small barbs in the end. He could see the way it sliced across the buttocks and dug into the thighs causing little dainty rubies to appear. The deep red lines forming over the backs of his legs also had tiny jewels trying to creep their way out. A big smiley face of rips was appearing slowly but now he couldn't see…..he was spinning laying on the ceiling looking at the cracks as something warm lapped on his back and buttocks and legs and a tongue licked and lapped at him….

Suddenly the pain was there.

He could feel it all and he was back hanging from the chains. Spencer was confused and howling and yelping strange noises and words and now that the mouth had moved away he felt that now familiar sudden coldness as hands grabbed him by the hips and held him still.

-o-o-o-

She was ready to go. She had her jacket on again and was standing looking at Aaron's front door. "Uh."

Hotch put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me call you a cab. I can't have you driving home like this."

Rosie turned to face. "I think I've had a little too much. Do you mind awfully if I just crash on your couch? I don't think I could manage any kind of motion right now."

Hotch smiled. "I have a spare room. You will be safe. There is a lock on the door."

"Thank you Aaron. I would really appreciate that."

-o-o-o-

She finally managed to get to her hands and knees. Her head had been bleeding badly but she reasoned that all head wounds did and as it had stopped it would probably be alright – but the woozy head and the double vision let her know that this was likely a nasty concussion and a hand to the place she had hit her head let her know she needed stitches.

"Well damnit." As she stood and put a hand out to the wall her towel fell off and for the tiniest split of a second as it slipped she felt a fingers running down her spine. As quickly and carefully as she could she picked the towel up again and wrapped it around herself. She went back to the bedroom and pulled on the shorts and vest top he had on earlier. She then looked at the phone.

"I have to call Hotch. He needs to know what's going on here. If I knew what was going on here. She picked up a business card laying on the bedside table and squinted at the phone number on it. With a sigh she punched in the number.

"I need a cab to the local A and E – yes – as soon as possible please." She gave her location and slipped back into her trainers and waited for her lift to the hospital. "Crap." She mumbled as her head began to swim again.

-o-o-o-

He hung there as they took the photographs. They moved him so he had his back to the wall and used the whip again. He could feel it bite into the flesh on his chest and abdomen as it ripped through his shirt. Spencer knew the best thing to do was to keep still and keep his head down. This is what he had been told. If he did that then there would be no pain. Hadn't Taki taught him that much? So why did it feel like they were flaying him alive. He had no howls left in him now. They pulled his face up and took nice shots of his wide open glazed over eyes. They took out camcorders and took moving pictures of different people doing different things.

He heard a discussion but he refused to understand it. His mind was so foggy with ether and so muddled with pain that he couldn't think beyond the rules Taki had given him and the look of disappointment Floyd would have had on his face.

Slowly the people left. The flashes of camera's stopped and the smell of the rag was gone. Someone was wiping Spencer's face with a damp clean cloth and then releasing his hands. He wanted – no needed to go to his hands and knees now. He had to appease Taki and then this would go but he was dragged back to the bed and secured to it by one hand and one ankle.

"Do you smoke?" He was asked.

"Yes." He replied.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9 Being Moved

Chapter 9

Being Moved

**A/N: Same as before: NonCon/slashy undertones.**

_Suffering is nothing. It's all a matter of preventing those you love from suffering: -__Alphonse Daudet_

Disclaimer Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

He lay in the leaves.

There was nothing he could do. He tried to move and did in fact manage to crawl a few feet, but there really was no where to go. The next best thing was to try to curl up in as small a size ball as he could, but that wasn't going to happen either. He was laying on his front with his one arm above his shattered head and the other at his side. His legs were slightly spread and his left leg bent at the knee. He looked like he was sleeping if you ignored the fact that half of his head was missing.

Floyd had reached the stage now where he just wanted to sleep and sleep wasn't something that Floyd did. A very disconcerting feeling it was for him and one which made him very suddenly fearful for Reid. Was Taki around? Something was wrong – something was very wrong and his brains were up the old Elm and he had now way of getting a good re-growth out here. No drugs no nothing. He thought that if he could cover leaves over himself he could somehow recreate some sort of dark comfort. Why had they let this happen to him?…..He had behaved. He had done everything asked of him and now this shit! This was why he got so pissed off with them sometimes….it was this sort of thing which got him into trouble in the first place.

He wanted to shout at them at the unfairness of the game. He had abandoned what he was doing – he was trying to be the new him – what was it they wanted? For now all he could do was lay there. This was damned humiliating. Bodily fluids seeped away and down into the forest floor but he could still feel the wetness – that vile dampness brought on by death.

-o-o-o-

She sat in the waiting room with a wad of paper over the side of her head. It had stopped bleeding but they still insisted that she sat there like this. She had wanted to flash her badge, but she didn't have it. She needed to get this sorted and back and get organised and see if her hair was going to look strange, because Emily had a horrible feeling that they were going to want to cut some of her hair away so that they could put in some stitches. It struck her that since being with Reid she had become more and more unattractive and less like herself than she had done in years. She wasn't sure what it was about Reid, maybe it was because she didn't feel she had to keep up appearances in front of him. It was doubtful he would notice anyway.

Eventually after what felt like half of her life had past and she probably had grey hairs they asked if she wanted to come through. She sat on a big orange chair and they took the wadding out of her hand and put it in a bin.

"So what happened?" Someone was pulling through her hair having a look at the damage.

"I slipped on a wet bathroom floor." A big sigh.

"This happened a few hours ago….you should have come straight in." He tutted.

"I was unconscious laying on the bathroom floor. It was kind of hard for me to reach the phone." Getting snappy.

"I'm going to have to shave part of your hair." Smug.

"I expected you to." Pissed off.

"It's a nasty wound Miss."

"Agent." Getting very cross with that smug face now. "Special Agent Prentiss. Will you just hurry up and get it stitched so I can get a cab back to the motel?"

She was a long way impressed with the finished result. It would mean having to wear a hat of some kind until it grew slightly…or maybe get the rest of it cut so it didn't show so much. She was given painkillers for the thumper of a headache she had and now she sat on the wall outside the small emergency room in the evening air wondering if now was the right time to contact Hotch. She finally decided that once Reid turned up she was talk to him about it….either way tomorrow she would call in – Spencer didn't have to like it, but her job was a risk here, and there was a good chance that she had already lost it. Though – she was off sick – so she shouldn't be here – but she wasn't actually hiding…And then she thought of the bike and part of the motivation behind getting it was so they would be harder to track. She bit on her bottom lip and placed her hand over the enormous dressing on the side of her head and waited for the cab to come and take her back to the motel. She wondered if Reid had eaten. She was hungry and she was sure she had eaten since he last had. Another thing she was going to have to come down hard on him about. The lack of eating and this smoking he had suddenly started.

-o-o-o-

They let him sleep – but sleep was furthest from his mind. He lay back and smoked another of whatever it was they had been giving him. They had stripped him and sort of reclothed him, though not in a real sense – just a very short robe that he could tie up tightly around his waist. This – this stuff he was smoking numbed. It not only numbed the intense pain he was in, but it numbed his mind. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this predicament. And all calls of aid or advise to Floyd came back unanswered. He was on his own on this one, and with the ether still running in his system, though admittedly not enough to get him high, but enough to keep his mind racing, with that and with whatever this was –

He looked at it and waved it around a bit and talked kind words to it –

Whatever this was it took away all that pain and hurt he had been feeling.

Hey! These people seemed to actually like him. Gert seemed to have respect for him. Probably – he thought, maybe this was respect. He looked at the cuff holding him to the ring on the wall and then down to the one around his ankle.

That could be alright he supposed really, it was for his own safety. He watched with bleary eyes as the door was opened and closed again. Gert was with a small huddle of people who came over and looked at Spencer. They snatched his smoke from him.

"Hey!"

They pulled his gown off him.

"Stop!"

They took more photos of him and then rolled him onto his front. Spencer fell asleep.

He didn't see them bring in the set up for the camera. He was too stoned and asleep for him to see them set up the lap top in the corner of the room. He couldn't hear the conversation they had about web sites and hits and money.

When they undid the cuffs and pulled him from the bed he didn't protest. He was handed a bottle of water which he drank happily even though they were having to support him so he didn't fall over.

As he drank the lovely clear liquid he became only slightly aware of being disrobed yet again. The hands still holding him up and still and now they seemed to be inspecting him and pulling at him and rubbing something cold over his skin.

Somewhere he could hear the clanking of chains again and a strange squeaking noise which right this moment his brain couldn't place.

-o-o-o-

They stood and watched and calculated.

"Screen test first. I want to see how he performs."

They oiled their subject. It picked up muscle – or in this case bone – better on camera – The hair they left as it was for now. No point in wasting soap on something they might be disposing of soon. They inspected his face closely. A nice face they all agreed but he looked like a junky. Keep his face off screen…the punters liked that – they could put the face they wanted there then. They considered some sort of mask and then changed their minds. It would be fine. He seemed compliant. Could they have him against the wall please? They wanted to see how well the cat worked against his skin. He was pale – the welts would probably look particularly good on this one. They could keep him back just for flogging. They liked that – they usually got extra money in for the floggings and beatings and he looked like he was going to mark nicely.

"Good choice Gert." One of them said – and gave a big gold toothed smile at the tall blonde guy who was standing back happily watching. This was going to earn him a damned fortune. Enough to get the butt implants he was after.

They stood the subject against the wall and again chained his hands so that they were at full stretch above his head. They talked about muscle tone and the way it accentuated his bone structure and what looked to be a frailty about this one. He looked like they would need to be careful with him. He would need a lot of rest between sessions to let the swellings go down again…They would need to be careful about breakages and too much damage if they were going to keep this for any length of time.

Could they start then please?

They watched via the lap top they had set up. Occasionally one of them would get up and adjust the camera angle. They applied more oil to his back and asked if he always swayed like that or was that the drugs? They were assured by Gert that this was a mild side effect and wouldn't even be noticed once they started.

The first thing they wanted to see was how he reacted to just touching. They wanted him to keep his back to the camera for now. They didn't want head shots of any description at this stage. It can be distracting. It can cause someone to make a decision based on the wrong factors.

The touching consisted of one person on his knees behind Reid running his hands over the backs of his legs and his buttocks and the small of his back. It also involved the mouth doing much the same thing. They liked the way he moved slowly back and forth in time to the 'touching'. He was a gentle one. This one was going to be a novelty.

Now onto the next thing.

Gert called one of his men forward and asked him to start.

It was a single plaited whip. Long but without barbs. Just to see how it looked on his back. As it cracked and flicked over Spencer's skin Reid let out a small cry of surprise – not actual pain – he was still feeling numb, but he hadn't been expecting that.

They peered at the monitor and looked up and nodded. The guy with the whip went again. This time it wasn't such a shock, but it was beginning to sting slightly. Spencer wriggled a bit and the men behind the monitor smiled.

They watched until the welts on his skin looked as though they might start to bleed and then asked if he was amenable to anything else.

By this point Spencer could definitely feel the pain. Any drugs he had been given were wearing – but not totally gone from his system. He hung by his arms with his knees slightly bend wondering if his shoulders were going to come out of their sockets. When Gert grabbed him around the waist and undid the chains on his wrists he let out a sigh of relief.

"You're not done yet." Gert hissed into his ear.

Silly Spencer….fancy thinking they had finished with you. _'Floyd please help me'_

Gert dragged Spencer to a more central point. "On your knees."

A command Spencer was not likely to ignore. He went down and placed his shaking hands on the floor in front of him and bowed his head.

Gert shrugged. "He does that a lot. Dead weird." He moved Reid around so that his back was to the camera. "Get up on your knees."

Nothing.

"Get up – they want to see what you look like in different positions."

The word was so soft it was not much more than an exhale of breath but it was Spencer's last protest for tonight. "No."

The buyers didn't mind that he needed to be shown some respect. They watched again on the monitor how his hair looked as Reid's head snapped to the side by the force of the punch. They nodded in agreement. It seemed like they might be interested. They would obviously have to show this to their boss and will be back tomorrow one way or the other. If he was no good for continual usage he would definitely have a good part to play in a 'one off' video they were interested in making.

Gert was happy with this and kicking Reid onto the floor out of the way he helped them collected up their things and go. Either way Spencer was going to make him a packet of money. Now looking down at the shaking naked oiled form on the floor he pulled him over onto his front and holding tightly to his hips had the nice oiled subject for himself one last time.

-o-o-o-

She sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed at her eyes. She didn't want to sleep. Her head was pounding too much and she was afraid if she slept now she would sleep through the small travel alarm clock and miss her rendezvous with Spencer. She couldn't predict the mood he would be in. She had no idea where he was and the images in her mind were not making her feel very at ease. What the hell had she been thinking letting him go off like that? But then again he was a full grown adult and it was not up to her to give him orders. They were not working. She wasn't sure what they were doing but this was more like some kind of hell than work.

Again her hand went to the dressing on the side of her head. She got up and walked over to the bathroom where she had slipped – no where she had been pushed. She looked down at the floor and could see where her footprints had dried and left marks on the white tiles. She could see a small puddle of blood, which she would have to report in the morning and there very clear for her to see was a smear of dirt like from the bottom of a dirty boot. She stood and stared at it.

"I was right." She muttered to herself, though she also knew it wasn't possible and there must be another explanation. Emily walked back to the bed and sat down with her back against the wall and her knees up tight. She rested her chin on her knees and looked down at her feet. "I'll be damned if I will sleep in this place." And there she sat listening to the birds singing as the light began to creep in through the not very high quality drapes at the window.

-o-o-o-

They had a case.

They sat around looking despairingly at each other. They had had this sort of thing before. There was no Reid in today and Emily was off too, but the bulk of this was going via Garcia.

"There are a lot of these sort of sites." Hotch was saying. "What makes this different is the violence involved. They claim – they have a disclaimer which they show every half hour – that all subjects are there voluntarily – that no one is actually harmed and it is just make up and acting. There are a few places like this. One step beyond the normal pornography. Some site are even said to simulate snuff, but we have no proof of that. This one though." Hotch indicated the frozen image of a man chained to a wall. "….we have received complaints about. Some people are saying it's not simulated. And someone has even recognised one of the 'subjects' as a rent boy who went missing some months back. I need these people found and I want the site closed." He sat down and looked at his fingernails. "Garcia is already looking through footage. Morgan – she might need some support there. It gets a bit – rough."

-o-o-o-

Someone had hold of his arm and was dragging him. He tried to listen but he couldn't do that anymore. He tried again to open his eyes, but that was not happening either. There wasn't much he could do. The healing was painfully slow. It hadn't even started yet and he could feel things feeding off him and he could feel he was being dragged.

It was hard to tell how far he had been moved but still there was only one pair of hands on him. The hands pushed Floyd onto his back and started to scrabble around with his jeans waistband.

Oh fabulous….killed by a bloody necrophiliac – and to think they could have been friends – and still can be….once the brain has grown back. And now he was being touched and manhandled by some woodsman with a camera. Not impressed. Not impressed in the slightest.

And now he was concerned that the gift he had given Spencer had been taken back again. He knew he needed it for a little while….but he also had a horrible feeling that Spencer needed it too – so as much as Floyd wanted – no – needed to kill this bastard who was abusing his 'dead' body – he knew Reid needed to keep that gift for a while longer yet. Not begrudgingly, but rather more sadly – he passed it back again.

-o-o-o-

He woke up sitting on the back seat in a car. He was dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie which was up and pulled down to keep his face in shadow.

Spencer moved a hand to his head. He had the headache from hell today. What had happened? He blinked and looked around expecting to see Emily and seeing instead some rather seedy looking blokes in cheap suits.

He looked down at his hands and saw that his they were shaking slightly and he felt sore. His back and the backs of his legs and where he was sitting in the car hurt like he had been sliced with something.

"Excuse me? Where am I?" He glanced at the men and then out at the unfamiliar roads dashing past.

"Keep your mouth shut dog. No one told you to talk."

And so he looked out of the window again. The door lock button was up and the handle was there – next to him. Again he kept his head down and as the car slowed at some lights Reid grabbed the handle and tried to push the door open.

Nothing happened.

"Stop that. Just sit still and be quiet."

He pushed at the door again as hands reached over and tried to restrain him. He started to shout and punch at the glass and as they pulled him away it was his bare feet that he smacked against the window as he called out for help.

And as he shouted and kicked and flailed and screamed someone deftly squirted a liquid into his mouth.

Spencer stopped the shouting and started to cough and gag and his kicks and flailings became less and less violent until he was laying still across the laps of the man in the back of the big dark SUV.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10 The Cut

Chapter 10

The Cut

**A/N: Vile underhanded doings going on here! Mention of drugs and other nasty stuff.**

_Because I could not stop for Death -- He kindly stopped for me -- The carriage held but just ourselves -- And immortality: -__Emily Dickinson._

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

She looked down at the watch on her wrist. It was half nine now. Time to go and meet up with Reid again. Emily didn't want to be late – she hated being late. Very unprofessional, but then so was everything she was doing.

Prentiss picked up the few things she had and pocketed the painkillers and left her small room. She went to reception and told them that she had the accident and that there was blood in the bathroom. She needed them to see that it was her that was injured and not someone she had murdered and cut up in the bath. She knew how the minds of some of these people worked. She paid her bill and went outside. The ride back to the parking lot where she was going to meet Reid was not long. Just around the corner. She was there and waiting for him at seven minutes to ten.

She locked up the bike and went to a stand and got a strong sweet coffee and a doughnut. She then sat on the small two foot high wall and waited.

The next time she looked at her watch it was about one minute to ten. This was strange – Reid was a good time keeper and usually early too. She stood up and brushed the sugar from the doughnut off the front of her vest top and looked down the road to see if he was coming yet. It wasn't a busy street, but nor was it so quiet that she couldn't miss him….even so he was no where to be seen.

Maybe her watch was wrong. Maybe. She stopped the next person who walked by her and asked if he had the correct time on him. "I think my watch is fast." She explained.

But it wasn't and she knew it wasn't – and now it was nearly fifteen minutes past the hour. "Where the hell are you?" And now her head was thumping again not only with the pain of smacking it on the door frame but with the worry of where Reid was. She couldn't call him. He didn't have his cell with him. But maybe he had called hers. She walked over to her car which she had paid to keep in the lot for a week and unlocked it. She pulled open the passenger door and then unlocked the glove compartment. She pulled out her phone and flicked it open. The battery was dead.

"Fantastic." She glanced at the side arm and sighed and then she secured it all up again and walked back to the wall half hoping that Reid would be sitting there with a smile on his face waiting for her.

Nothing.

"Damnit!"

And she was pacing and the more she paced the more she worried and the more her head hurt.

She knew she had to call Hotch. She had to at least call in sick. Later….she would wait until eleven…..maybe his watch had stopped. Maybe he was delayed by something….

"Damn you Reid." She muttered and sat back down on the wall.

Three coffees and one more doughnut later she looked down at her watch. It was nearly half eleven. He wasn't going to turn up. She should have known that yesterday. She should have followed him. She should have persuaded him to stay. Now thinking back she could think of a very easy way to get him to stay, but that wasn't a direction she was or ever would be willing to go in.

Was he still where he had planned on going last night? Had he moved on without her? Had it all been just a ruse to get rid of her because she rejected him and then showed him that she wouldn't be pushed around by him. Her pacing on the sidewalk was becoming more and more frantic as she tried to profile where she thought he would have gone last night.

As Reid he would have stayed with her or gone to get coffee and then sleep. As Floyd – what was she thinking – he isn't Floyd so anything else he did would be so out of character he would have been easy to pick out as being out of place.

Emily decided to give it until mid day. Give him a chance to get here, but two hours late was quite bad. She snapped around and walked to the telephone kiosk which was just inside the parking lot. She picked up the receiver and pushed in some loose change and then stood with the thing to her ear waiting.

"Hotch – it's Prentiss." A small pause. "I know I'm sorry. I had an accident and I know I should have called…." Another pause. "No I think I will be fine – I fell and hit my head. I've got stitches." More listening. "Yes – yes I will – if you can give me a few days." A sigh as she listened again. "I will do – and thank you sir." She replaced the phone. A few more days grace. She just had to hope no one came to give her some flowers now because she wasn't going to be at home.

-o-o-o-

They hauled him out of the car and took him over to an elevator door. Spencer knew he was walking because there was no other way he could have been moving, but he couldn't actually feel his feet on the ground and everything was bouncing almost as though the ground was shaking. If he could fee the ground. He knew he flinched a couple of times. Things were around him and it confused him, he couldn't work out what they were or where they had come from. He was sure the dream would be over soon as suddenly arms grabbed him and pulled him into the elevator.

A tiny room. Minute. Hardly big enough for one person let alone the five – ten – however many people were crammed into this tiny box which seemed to be getting smaller.

Spencer turned and placed his hand on the cold metal of the elevator call and tried to push them back out again. He could hear his whimpers of panic and he could feel the sweat on his face. He sat. He couldn't think of what else to do as the ten or was it twenty people stood and stared at him as he started screaming and kicking at the walls of the metal coffin. He was shouting out words, but he had no idea what they were or if they meant anything or if they were just noises.

The hands on him now pulling him away from the wall didn't understand. Too many hands – too many people – he couldn't breathe. They had sucked all the air out of the elevator car and now the walls were bending and buckling and the thing was creaking and squealing and dropping and Spencer was screaming and kicking and flailing at the people holding him down who were now shouting something back at him which he couldn't hear because his ears wouldn't work and all he could hear was the sounds of an animal trapped in a hunters toy.

They watched the weirdo freak out in the elevator – kicking and screaming and spitting foam from his mouth. When they reached the floor they needed. They just grabbed the junked out scum by his arms and dragged him into the lobby of the offices they were visiting.

Reid could feel that the floor was moving. He could feel that something was sucking him out of the now open doors and his kicking and howling didn't stop. Finally more hands were on him and lifting him from the carpeted floor. Hand grabbing his ankles and his forearms so that he was now facing down looking at the floor shaking his head spraying spittle up the arms of the men he was with and drooling onto the floor.

-o-o-o-

They threw him into an empty room where they watched for a little while and then walked away. Unsure now how the boss was going to react to this small dilemma. They didn't know he was going to freak out like that on them. They were going to have to be more careful what they gave him, but at the time it had been necessary. That or crack him around the head to stop him getting out of the car. They'd been told this one was compliant. It didn't look that way to them. This one was going to have to be knocked into place by a few well practiced hands.

-o-o-o-

He opened his eyes to find he was in an empty room. Spencer had no idea how he got here. He had fuzzy memories of being in a car and even fuzzier ones of being with Gert. The last real thing he could remember was telling Emily he would be back by ten in the morning. He was laying on his side and he could feel that the part of his face which was laying on the floor was wet. He lifted a shaking hand to his face expecting to see his watch on his wrist but saw an unfamiliar dark item of clothing. Now he moved his head and that was probably the mistake. The room span so violently that he just curled up into a tight ball on the floor and squeezed his eyes shut waiting to bounce off the walls. He could feel liquid gurgling in his stomach wanting to escape and so still with his eyes tightly closed he moved carefully and just let it go.

He let in huge sobbing gasps of pain as his muscles contracted over and over again trying to rid his insides of whatever it was he had in there…and judging by what was managing to come out it wasn't much. Once he was able to control the cramps in his stomach he rolled over onto his back and ran cold fingers over his face. He had been drooling. He could feel it over his cheek and on his neck and the way his muscles were hurting made him wonder if he had suffered a seizure. That would maybe account for the strange flashes of memory he was getting, but either way – whatever had happened he couldn't be late for Emily. She would throw a freaking wobbler at him for being late. He scrabbled to his feet and leaned on the wall of the room which he guessed was probably about twelve foot square and painted all over a very pale baby blue. Even the inside of the door was the same colour. Keeping one hand on the wall he walked on wobbly legs to the door.

There was a small window in the centre at about head height and it brought a little quick twist of panic in him wondering if he had had a breakdown or something and had been locked up. It would certainly account for the loss of memory and the feeling that he wasn't quite all there. Or here – wherever 'here' was.

It was just as he reached the door that it suddenly opened. The people standing the other side of the door didn't look like doctors. Spencer's mind raced trying to force his brain to wake up and tell him what the hell was going on.

"Nice to see you awake at last. Follow."

Not that he was given much of an option. One man walked in front and two others held Reid by each arm and walked him a bit quicker than his legs wanted to move down a long corridor and into a large dark room at the end. They pulled him over to the middle of the room and let go of him, where he took a stumbling step forwards and then swayed slightly. He tried to turn to see what the hell was going on, but was stopped.

"Stand still."

And so he did. The old fear crept up his spine and filled his brain with one thought. 'Do as you are told and they wont hurt you.' And though logically he was well aware that this wasn't true, Taki had left his mark on Reid. In more places than the scar on the back of his neck which was now tingling wildly.

"Strip."

He couldn't see who was talking to him. The voices were behind him.

Spencer didn't move. They had told him to stand still and that command over rode any others – especially ones telling him to do something he was definitely not going to do. He didn't expose his body for anyone.

It happened in slow motion.

One set of hands pulled at his clothes as another set of hands pushed a stinking rag over his face for him to inhale a few breaths and another began to wipe a cold oily liquid over his now exposed body.

Then it all happened in fast forward.

The sudden rush to his already fogged over brain had him flying forwards until he reached the wall. He could feel that his hands were being held in wide metal cuffs and then pulled high above his head. Voices suddenly too loud and the just as quickly fading to nothing.

He wanted to shake his head. He had a growing needed to shake his head violently side to side but his order to stand still wouldn't let him. He kept his face to the wall and looked down. He couldn't see anything….his eyes had decided to close as the very slight twinklings of light in the room were threatening to blind him.

Spencer didn't feel the pain of the whip. He felt nothing more than a tiny sensation that something was touching his skin. It touched firstly along his back and then lower down on the backs of his legs.

Still. As completely motionless as he could manage with just the smallest of tears creeping from his eyes where the light was still trying to pull open his eyelids and scrape over the tender insides of his brain.

More coldness….They were wiping something over his skin again and now a voice horribly loud – almost to burst his ear drums was in his ear.

"You are doing good here. Just remember. Stand still."

And then another voice which he couldn't quite understand the meaning of but it was somewhere far away and probably down a tunnel. "Going live in – five – four – three – two – one."

And he didn't move. He stood and took it although this time he could feel it. He could definitely feel something biting hard into his skin, but it still wasn't hurting, he was just aware that it was happening. He could feel his blood trickling down the back of his legs and tried to calculate how long it would take for it to reach his feet but his concentration was broken by the hands now on his back and that very cold feeling of something getting him ready and now he bit on his bottom lip as he felt his body respond to what was being done to him and the hands touching him and then the mouth moving along his spine and then back up to his neck.

How long it lasted he had no idea. He just knew that when the cuffs were finally removed from his wrists and he was let to slide to the ground that there seemed to be slight concern in voices he was managing to hear.

"Went too far."

"New boy needs to be broken in slower."

"Behaves well once he knows what's expected."

"We got a lot of hits and some nice responses."

"A shame it's going to take a while to heal that mess."

"Stick him in with Ardal. He's on his own now."

-o-o-o-

The two of them stood looking down at the corpse.

"It's not doing what it's meant to." Kelly mused.

"What you talking about?"

"No rigor." Kelly bent down and picked up a hand. He demonstrated how the fingers were still moving properly and how the whole damned hand moved. "He's cold as ice though."

"He's got no fucking brain Kelly – he's dead. Course he's cold you moron."

"But look." A few kicks and he had kicked the now redressed Floyd over onto his back… he leaned down and pulled his shirt up. "Look."

"Can't see nothin'"

"Exactly! He aint got no blue splodges. His blood hasn't uh - what's the fucking word for it Bo?"

The other guy now moved forward and looked down at the exposed pure white skin and then up at the face with the closed eyes. Clearly he could see insects on the lips and crawling over the damage on the side of the head but the face still look at peace. It didn't actually look dead. Bo pulled a small pocket knife out of his pocket.

"What you doing Bo?" Kelly asked with a worried look on his face.

Bo crouched down and ran a finger over Floyd's stomach. He looked at the still soft skin and then with the blade drew it over where his finger had just been. He stood up and they both watched.

"Holy crap." Bo snapped the knife shut and just stared.

"What?! You cut him and wonder why his bleeding? You stupid?"

"Kelly you tosser – dead guys don't bleed."

"But he's got not fricking brains!" Kelly was leaning in getting a better look at the small cut which had been made. "He's gotta be dead! Bo! What we gonna do?"

"Take him home. Pa will know what to do. Grab a foot. Let's get the hell out of here before someone comes and finds him."

"No one gonna find shit out here." Kelly was just standing looking at the impossible.

"Well we found him didn't we? Come on….help me out here."

-o-o-o-

"Hey babygirl." Morgan said quietly as he entered Garcia's bunker. "Thought you might want company." He walked quietly over to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm.." She rubbed at her nose. "I'm fine Derek. Thank you."

"Mind if I sit?" He moved from behind her to next to a spare chair.

"Go for it." Her normal bubbly self sounded very tired and sad.

"Bad?" Morgan slid his chair closer so he could see what she was looking at.

A sigh. "The same things over and over again really. Different people. I don't know Derek – what drives someone to do this to someone else? What is wrong with them?"

"We are sure this isn't just acting?" he looked up at the frozen image of a man being beaten with what looked to be a split bamboo cane.

She shook her head. "I'm still working on that. They don't look to be bothered by what is being done to them. Surely they would be."

Now Derek was shaking his head. "Some people get off on this sort of thing. The pain pleasure barrier thing. They could be there because they like it."

"Or it could just be for the cameras. And I have to sit here and try to work it out." She took off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. "I'm seeing – trying to see if they use the same person more than once. If they do then it's not close together. You know….not the following day. I want to compare markings - cuts – bruises – but they are a clever lot – so far nothing." She put her glasses on and looked down at her empty coffee mug.

"I'll get you another drink Pen and then I'll be back and we can look together. You shouldn't have to watch this sort of thing alone in here. Do they do more than the beatings?"

A nod. "Oh yes…a lot more."

-o-o-o-

She walked reluctantly back to the car and pulled out a note pad. She wrote on the page with a marker pen. 'Spencer – I am at the Night Rest Motel around the corner. I am really concerned – please let me know you are alright.' She then wrote the note out again. One of them she put on the dashboard so it could be seen from outside, but not easily. The other she tucked behind the wipers on the front of the car.

Then she was back on the bike and back in front of the motel again. She managed to get the same room as the previous night and booked it for two more. She then asked that if someone should call for her to send them to her room. She was expecting someone – she was hoping they would show up. She then got a sandwich and a drink from the machine and asked if there was a pair of scissors she could borrow.

Emily stood in the bathroom in her shorts and vest. She had been crying and she didn't know why. She didn't think she had ever felt this confused and alone before. She didn't know who to talk to. Mother wouldn't understand and no one from work would – where the hell was Floyd in all this? What the hell part did he have to play.

When she looked down the basin was full of Emily's long dark hair. She had cropped it off to a few inches all over.

"Compartmentalise that!" She spat at the mirror and went back to the room where she curled up and fell asleep.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11 The Movies

Chapter 11

The Movies

**A/N: SMALL AMOUNT OF MILD SLASH WARNING!! **

_Whom computers would destroy, they must first drive mad: - anon_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

The room was almost square. The longer

edges of the room had a bunk against each. There was approximately three foot separating them and enough room at the end of the room for partition wall and a chemical toilet the other side of it. There was also a plumbed in washbasin. There was no window, but there was the continual whirring sound of an air vent. The room was pale green. The bedding was old and stained and worn but it was clean.

They carried Reid in and dropped him face down on the bunk that didn't have someone sitting on it. The other person was handed a tube of cream and a cloth.

"Antiseptic cream."

A nod from the guy with long hair tied back.

"I don't want him getting scarred. Look after him."

"Does he have a name?"

A shrug and the door was closed again.

A sigh and he got up and walked the washbasin. He wet the cloth and took it back to where they had dumped the new boy. He assumed was a new boy. They had given him his inaugural whipping and it didn't look very nice. Ardal sat next to Reid and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey are you awake?" No reply and no movement except the slow and steady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. He placed the cloth on Reid's back and slowly started to wipe away the blood so he could see where to put the cream. Why they did this to the new ones he never really understood.

"They should have been more gentle mate….sorry about this." Slowly he cleaned the mess off Spencer's back and then made his way down to his lower regions. Careful not to touch or make it seem in any way sexual he cleaned Reid as much as he could. "One damned tube of cream to cover this mess? They are kidding me I hope."

He was as gentle as he could be. The poor guy was obviously in a state of shock or had been whipped unconscious – either way Ardal didn't want him to suddenly start to freak out. The room was too small for him to be able to fight off a mad naked newbie. Once he had sorted that out he pulled a robe down off a peg on the wall and lay it over him.

"Talk to you later then whoever you are. Nearly time for me to go to work." He stood by the door and wiped his hand over the back of his mouth and waited for them to come and get him.

-o-o-o-

Hotchner looked around the depleted bull pen and sighed. The only thing going on right now was Garcia working on the tapes and videos. Morgan was helping her. Rossi was busy trying to track down an old 'friend' who had 'connections' which might help. JJ was in her office.

A light tap on the door and Hotch walked in. "Busy?" He asked JJ who was looking very tired.

She did a slow nod. "Same as always."

"Take a break. I want you to go and check up on Prentiss – she called in and said she had an accident and hurt her head. Just go over there and make sure she's going to be alright. She's far more likely to tell you than me."

JJ nodded. She knew it was Hotch's way to get her from out behind the desk for a while. He worried about her. He didn't like working with a pregnant woman. It just didn't feel right. It felt unsafe. On the other hand he didn't want to patronise her and as they weren't doing anything that JJ could help with right now this was the best option – as Hotch could see it. He did want someone to make sure Emily was alright. She seemed to have been acting strangely lately.

They had all been acting strangely lately. He wondered if he should call Reid and then changed his mind and found himself walking back to his office.

-o-o-o-

Garcia sat back and took a break sipping at her coffee. "Thanks for the drink." She said to Derek still a long way off from her normal bubbly self. She took her glasses off again and leaned back. "You know what I could go for right now?"

"What's that babygirl?" Morgan's eyes felt sore from watching the videos with Pen. He had no idea how she could do this all day…it would kill his sight. Then he looked at her glasses on the desk and smiled to himself.

"A shoulder rub."

As her computer pinged to let her know there was a new stream for them to look at Morgan got up. Garcia pressed the button on the keyboard and a new lot of images appeared for them. All Garcia could see was a dark smudge without her glasses on and Morgan's attention was all on the lovely shoulders of Penelope. They didn't see the new subject being whipped until the blood ran down his back. They didn't see the way he stood still for them and let them touch and manhandle him in any way they pleased. They didn't see the slightly familiar flop of his hair as his body did an involuntary buck of pleasure. They actually didn't look up again until the recording stopped and her screen went back to its standard blue with the logo in the middle.

Morgan sat down and Pen sat and finished her coffee. "I really need a break from this. I'm going out for a long lunch." She slipped her glasses back on and smiled. "Thank you. I do feel a lot better for that."

-o-o-o-

JJ had a feeling that she wasn't going to get an answer from Emily. Her car wasn't in the parking bay and she wasn't answering her cell or home phone. Something was wrong. She still tired though. She pressed the buzzer to Emily's apartment but wasn't surprised when there was no answer. She pulled out her phone and speed dialled Hotch.

"She's not here. Her car's not here. She's not answering the door."

Hotch told her to come straight back again and on the way by Rossi's office popped in. "I think we have a problem." He then carried on to Garcia's bunker. She was just putting her shoes on and having a little joke with Morgan when Hotch walked in. He looked at her shoes and at Morgan and then back at Garcia. "Something going on here?"

"OH! Oh! No no…my feet were sore. Can I help you sir?"

"I need a trace on Prentiss car as soon as possible." He slid his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Emily? Is there something wrong? Yes – yes or you wouldn't be asking me. Right on it sir. Uh Morgan I am fine now. Thank you." She did however hand him her now empty mug for a fresh brew.

She sat down and clicked away from the videos they had been watching and pulled up all the information she needed to get a trace on Emily's car. It didn't take long. It was in a large town a few hours drive to the north. She gave Hotch the information and sat back down again. The thought of going out and having a big lunch was gone from her mind now…She was worried about Prentiss. Everyone was acting so crazy lately. She accepted the coffee from Derek with a thank you.

"I'm off for a while Princess. You take care."

She smiled at Derek and clicked back to the videos. The next one had arrived to watch and so she clicked onto it to watch. A blond guy curled up in a ball being kicked. Not her idea of fun….but it was making someone a lot of money.

-o-o-o-

They pulled him into a shed and left him laying on the hard packed floor. Then one of them picked up a length of twine and rolled him onto his front. His hands he took and tied tightly behind his back.

"What you doing that for? He's not gonna get up and walk away. He aint go no brains."

Bo gave him a sideways look. "Doesn't stop you now does it? Just leave him. See if he bleeds again tomorrow."

"Might've been seepage."

"Yeah. Might have been."

They covered him with a tarpaulin and locked the door behind them.

Blessed peace at last. He wanted – needed to heal but now he knew Reid needed it. He was going to have to just try to stay like this for as long as possible. What the hell sort of trouble had Spencer got him self into anyway. Cos on one hand Floyd could feel his pain and the other – well it was making him really wish he had the use of at least one hand.

-o-o-o-

She eventually stopped crying. She felt a mess…she was sweaty and sticky and she was covered in bits of hair. Emily ran her hand over what was left of her hair and then looked at the small alarm clock. She should eat and have a drink – and she definitely should shower..

Again she was standing in the bathroom. She ignored the hair in the washbasin and stripped off. She shook her clothes out wildly trying to get rid of the nasty itchy bits and then placed them on the shelf where the towels where. She then turned on the shower and stepped in under the water. The dressing on her head came loose but she didn't care. She let it come out and then washed all the much from her hair with the motel shampoo. It stung like hell but it felt good. It felt good to be able to feel it. To be able to feel something.

She soaped and rinsed all over and listened to her grumbling stomach. This time when she got out of the shower she was more careful. She held tightly onto the wall and dried herself quickly then got dressed back in the slightly grubby shorts and vest she had been in for what felt like forever. She looked at her self in the mirror and laughed.

"Emily Prentiss – what do you look like!" She left the bathroom with a smile on her face to find the sandwich and drink she had got from the machine. Egg mayo was not her favourite filling and after eating half of it she threw the rest away. The drink of coke went down a treat though. It felt like her whole body screamed a giant 'thank you' as it hit her system.

She felt revitalised and ready to go and see if Reid had been looking for her.

The small reception area had a rack of baseball caps. Emily picked one up and placed it on the counter. A nice black hat to cover her massacred hair.

"Hey." The guy behind the counter smiled at her. "What happened to your hair?"

She smiled. "I fancied a change. Has anyone been looking for me?"

Emily frowned when she got a shake of the head. "Sorry Miss no one."

She stuck the hat on her head and tried a smile. "Please tell me I don't look completely stupid."

The guy smiled back. "You look like a darling. I will take any messages I get for you. Room ten?"

She nodded and left and had not a clue what to do now. Should she assume he carried on without her? Or did something go wrong with whatever it was he was doing and for the first time in her life she was gasping for a cigarette. Prentiss eventually walked a bit down the road and found a small bar. She could wait here – have a drink – of coke – and then some junk in a bag….and then go back and see if he had arrived yet. She looked over at the cigarette machine and with a puzzled expression walked over to it. "Fine fine I will have a smoke for you – anything else you require?" She muttered to herself.

-o-o-o-

Spencer woke up again not knowing where he was. His back felt stiff and uncomfortable but it didn't hurt. He turned so he could see the room he was in. He was on a bed and there was one just a short way off which was empty, but the bedding was disturbed as though someone had been sitting there. A bath robe type thing had been laid over him and so he slipped his arms in and pushed himself up to sit. It was at this point that the door opened and someone walked in.

Spencer saw a stunningly good looking guy a bit shorter than himself. His hair was tied back but bits had fallen out in wavy ringlets around his face. He had what looked from where Spencer was to have very green eyes and a big smile.

"Hey – you're awake now."

Reid just stared at him. Then looked away as his roomie walked to use the toilet.

"I'm Ardal. You have a name?"

Reid slowly shook his head, not sure what to say and wondering why his mind had gone completely blank.

Not completely – there was one thought still there and it wasn't one he would normally be having.

"You don't have a name or you don't want to tell me?"

"Spencer."

A nod. "You could have made something up you know. Spencer – nice to meet you. You are new here?"

"Y yes. What is this place?"

"It's a bit like a commune. But our payment for the job is that we get to fuck. Pretty good huh?"

"Oh." Reid's hands were twisting in his lap and his eyes suddenly went huge as once again the Floyd part of him wanted to take over. He quickly lay back down again and rolled onto his side.

'_Come on babes help me out here.'_

Spencer forced his hands away from his groin area and wrapped them tightly around him. "I think I need to sleep."

"Well make the most of it. A pretty boy like you will get lots of work."

Ardal looked at the back of his new roomie and sighed. He too was worn out from his games he just had to play and he flopped down on his bed and pulled covers up over himself. "Night then Spencer."

And the lights slowly dimmed.

"Night." He mumbled back.

It was screaming that woke Ardal up. He turned to look at the person on the other bed who was curled up tightly facing the wall and howling out names of people.

"Spencer?" He sat up and watched for a short while before deciding that Reid was having a nightmare or a really bad trip….either way he couldn't lay there and watch. He pushed his covers off and got out of bed. He placed a hand on the shoulder of the shaking shouting person. His gown thing was drenched with sweat and just with that one hand on him he could feel the way his heart was racing in a panicked nightmare. "Hey Spencer wake up." A small shake of the shoulder, but it got him no results. He sat down on the bed and ran a slow hand down Reid's knobbly spine. "Spencer." This time his voice was low. He wasn't sure if he wanted to wake him up or not now. Carefully he lay down behind Reid and put an arm around him. "It's OK Spencer." He whispered.

Reid felt the hot breath on the back of his neck…He thought maybe that he had been having a bad dream or something. He awoke suddenly to feel an arm around him and yes – the hot breath on the back of his neck.

The Spencer part of him wanted to pull away and tell this stranger to leave him alone. However the Floyd in him was shouting and hollering over that. 'take him Spencer….give me something back.'

Slowly Reid uncurled from the way he had been laying. The hand which was resting on his chest started to move and the fingers drew circles around his nipples. The hot breath returned as Ardal spoke again. "Hey – are you OK?"

He didn't answer but he rolled over onto his back and looked up at the dim ceiling.

"Be careful of your back." A Caring voice.

"My back? My back is fine." Spencer now turned to look into the face of the person who had climbed into his bed. "What are you doing in my bed?" A simple question.

"You were having a nightmare. Shouting out names of people."

"Ah – which names?"

"Floyd mainly – but Hotch too and Tobias."

"Oh – well they are – were friends." Now Reid rolled over so that he was facing Ardal.

"Your lovers?"

"No – well yes and no. Not really." Spencer put a finger on the end of Ardal's nose. "Roll over." He not a raised eyebrow as an answer. "Please?"

He rolled over and put a hand out pulling open the drawer in the small cupboard between the beds. He pulled a tube of something out and passed it back to Spencer. "They keep us well stocked up here."

Spencer took the lube from Ardal and smiled at it. "I don't use lube." He threw it across the room.

If Ardal had known Reid better. If he had spent more than a few hours with him before climbing into his bed he might have noticed how Spencer's tone changed and he might have been better prepared for the biting and scratching and the tearing into him with such force he thought he was going to explode. Reid was shouting out incomprehensible words to some long forgotten god as one hand held Ardal's hip and the other was in his hair pulling his head back so that Spencer could get his teeth into the white flesh. Biting and sucking and licking at the skin which he had to be oh so careful not to break.

And at the point that Ardal thought it was done…laying there on his side with so many thoughts going through his mind at the same time most of them along the lines of - 'Oh my god!' He felt Spencer move away and grab him by the shoulders and roll him onto his back.

Reid's lips came down and brushed against the pale mouth of his latest partner. "My turn." He spoke the words directly into the slightly open mouth and then licked his lips in anticipation.

And as Spencer lowered himself down and as Ardal bucked and writhed and cried out and his hands seemed to be all over this new strange person and Spencer's body was arched back and they dripped sweat onto each other and they shared bodily fluids…………..

-o-o-o-

A strange noise was heard.

The two younger woodsmen sat at the table listening to their Pa talk to them about something he had heard on the radio.

It was a howling sound.

"What in the bejezus was that?"

The two brothers looked at each other.

"Pa." Bo began…and told his dad of the accident they had in the woods.

"He caint be alive boys." Pa was shaking his head. "No with no brains."

The brothers got up and walked to the window. "He sure bled though Pa and now all the noise. That's him Pa. It's a damned devil of a monster in the shed."

"Well sounds like the damned devil found something to screw." Pa picked up his shot gun. "Stay here. I'll check it out."

* * *


	12. Chapter 12 Possessions

Chapter 12

_When I find myself fading, I close my eyes and realize my friends are my energy_

Possessions 

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

The garden at the back of the bar was patchy grass and a couple of bench seats with round wooden slatted tables. The type that gave you splinters in the backs of your legs.

She sat down carefully and put her glass – a new pack of cigarettes and a book of matches on the bench.

"I'm not impressed – you realise that don't you. Why can't you get Reid to smoke for you? Why me?"

She slowly opened the pack and pulled out a cigarette. She hated them. The thought of putting it in her mouth was making her stomach crawl but there was not much she could do to stop it.

She slid it between her lips and pulled a match off the book. A quick flick and the match was lit and she was lighting up the cigarette. She inhaled deeply and filled her lungs with smoke.

She followed it with five minutes of coughing and gagging and trying not to be sick. The smoke fell on the patchy ground and burnt out.

"Damn you. I can't do this!"

She moved from the bench and sat on the grass.

"One puff nearly killed me. You want more?" She wasn't aware of the few other people who had arrived now, glancing at the strange woman who had now laid back with her knees bent talking quietly to herself.

She took another from the pack and lit another match. "I wouldn't do this for anyone you know." Muttering to herself and prepared this time to maybe not actually take any of the smoke down – but she thought that he would make her. This time though it wasn't quite as bad. Maybe the first drag before had been the kill or cure and now she was laying down it didn't make her head spin quite as much. It was still though one of the most vile experiences of her life. Well one that she was doing voluntarily anyway.

Emily swatted at the afternoon flies and when the barkeep asked if she was OK – she requested another coke and lit up again. Her mind was a million miles away. Her head hurt and she still had no idea what to do about Reid.

After three large glasses of coke and half of the cigarettes had gone she got up and visited the washrooms. She sat and pondered on what to do next. The room she had book for one more night after this but if Reid wasn't coming back by tonight she figured it just wasn't going to happen. Emily wondered if she should go and try to find out where he had gone. A few enquires at the local PD would show her where to at least start looking. Now standing washing her hands she looked up at her face in the mirror. It was smudged and grubby with dirt. The cap disguised what a mess her hair was in but it didn't cover up the rest of the dirt. She needed to go back to the car and get her flight bag and take it back to her room….then she could change out of these dirty clothes. Though no longer itchy she could do with feeling fresher.

She splashed water on her face and under the smell of the pink soap she had used she could still smell the odour from the smokes she had been puffing on. Quickly and with a new decision made she picked up the pack of cigarettes and stuck them in her shorts pocket and with the matches poked inside the box and she left the washroom.

It was a quick walk back to the car and she was getting a bit cross with herself now for hiring the bike that she wasn't using and for paying a fortune to park up her car which she was. She did an inner snarl at Reid for costing her this extra money. She doubted she would be able to put it on the BAU expenses.

The note was still under the wipers unmoved and she thus presumed that Reid was still not back….or at least hadn't seen the note. She looked around to see if she could see him anywhere but really now didn't expect to.

A sigh.

She pulled her flight bag out of the back of her SUV and walked back to the motel room with it. Firstly checking to see if anyone had asked for her. Which they hadn't. She picked out a cheese sandwich from the machine and went back to her room.

She placed the sandwich on the side cupboard and the bag on the bed. Unzipping the bag she had a look inside and chewed on her bottom lip. One by one she pulled things out. Nothing really suitable for what she felt she needed and anyway a little voice in her head was telling her she was fine as she was. A bit of sweat on a woman was good.

Angrily she swiped the things off the bed onto the floor and sat down grabbing the sandwich and drink on the way.

"Where the hell are you?" She said to the sandwich. "Why are you in my head? Who is in my head?" She rubbed at her eyes and then her temples. The headache was making her feel sick again. She reached over and looked at the pack the hospital had given her. They said take one every four hours but that just wasn't doing the job and besides she hadn't had one in a while and it was impossible to overdose on these damned things, and if this headache didn't go and let her sleep then she would probably die anyway.

She looked down at the four pills in her hand. "It won't kill you Emily, but it's a pretty stupid thing to do you know." She rolled them around on her palm. "But I am so tired. I just need to sleep so I can think straight." She picked up the bottle of coke and opened it. "You should take them with water not coke." A sigh. The pills were going down and the coke was following. "Now please let me sleep and work out what to do about Reid."

-o-o-o-

It was a few hours later that the big black SUV pulled up in the parking lot next to Emily's car. Morgan – Rossi and Hotch got out and stood looking at the car. Before they approached it Hotch was pointing things out.

"It's been here a couple of days." It was obvious that the car was parked up buy the dust on the roof and the way the bits of leaves and rubbish were slowly collecting around the tyres.

Rossi walked over to it and pulled on his latex gloves. He removed the note under the wiper blades. He read it and looked up at Hotch. "This changes things slightly." Hotch and Morgan instantly gloved up too and went to look.

"She's here with Reid?" Morgan ran his hands over his head. "What the hell is she doing here with Reid?"

Hotch was looking at the note now. "She was here with him. It looks like they got split up."

Morgan looked over at Hotch. "Did you know about this?" But he was shaking his head.

"Obviously not. We need to get to the motel and hope that Prentiss is still there and hopefully Reid will be too and this can be sorted out." He looked over at Morgan. "We are going to remain calm whatever the situation. I don't expect raised voices. Something strange is going on and has been since that encounter in the forest and since Floyd disappeared. I need to know if this is connected and shouting at each other will not get the answers we need."

"Why are you looking at me man?" Morgan ran his hands over his chest. "I'm calm."

"Good. Then let's go find Prentiss."

The motel wasn't too run down or trashy looking. The man behind the reception desk smiled when the trio entered. Hotch flashed his badge and the man instantly looked worried.

"We are looking for someone. Female. Long dark hair."

A nod. "She's been waiting for someone. Room ten."

They might not be who she as expecting but he wasn't going to argue with the Feds.

He watched them walk off and then sat down again….slightly worried for the poor woman now. Maybe he should have called her as soon as they left to warn her? But no….they were Feds. He lit up a cigarette and puffed furiously on it. At least she had already paid.

-o-o-o-

As Hotch was knocking on the door to Emily's room Spencer was laying down again facing the wall with his knees pulled up close. Behind him Ardal was wrapping himself around his new very friendly companion. He kissed Spencer gently on the back of the neck and ran his tongue along the scar.

"How did this happen?" he asked him – his hot breath made Spencer's nerve endings tingle.

"I – uh – long story."

"OK…don't want to talk about it?" The tongue running over it again.

"Not really."

"Your back is almost healed already. I thought it was real blood. It was a good effect they used."

"I guess. I heal fast."

"I'm keeping you awake. I'm sorry. Sleep. I'm here – don't you worry about nightmares." He placed a hand on Reid's chest and Spencer took hold of it in his and squeezed gently.

"Thank you."

Spencer vaguely felt the hands on him relax and he felt Ardal pull him closer and for a strange moment he felt really happy. He was sure it wouldn't last. Ardal like everyone else would leave. Everyone he ever let through his barrier left. He wasn't sure what it was about him – what it was his father saw and Gideon saw and what it was about him that made his mother ill – but he knew it was him, and now Floyd had gone too. Every time. Maybe he should reject these new feelings for this strange man now – or maybe he should do what he had learned to do and just take it as it came and enjoy it while it lasted.

He didn't sleep. He lay and looked at the wall and wondered why he was here and what they were going to do to him and he could feel the sleeping breaths of the other man and so Spencer pushed back slightly towards him to pull in just a bit more of that comforting feeling of being needed.

-o-o-o-

"Prentiss – open up!" Hotch shouted.

Silence.

He knocked again. "We're coming in!"

"Hotch." It was Dave. "She might be in the shower."

He ignored Rossi. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. "Morgan. The door please." Hotch instructed.

A good kick and the door swung open. What they saw was not what they were expecting. Prentiss was curled up on the bed. The room looked like it had been raided by someone. There was a dreadful smell of stale cigarettes and sweat in the room. It was close and claustrophobic. Morgan just stood and looked…his heart leapt in his chest in fear. Dave was behind him and Hotch already on his way across the room.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. She was clearly breathing and her skin was warm, but she was out cold. Aaron leaned over her and pulled the cap off her head expecting her hair to cascade down. He stood for a second and just looked at her face. She was dirty and ill looking. She smelt vile and her hair looked like someone had gone at it with a chainsaw.

The others slowly walked over.

"Prentiss." Hotch shook her gently. "Emily. Wake up."

A slight murmur.

"Morgan get me some water."

Rossi was looking over the things on the floor. He picked up the cigarettes. "She smokes?" He looked at how many were gone from the pack.

Hotch looked over at Dave as he waited for Morgan. He shook his head. "No she doesn't – but she also has long hair and an impeccable dress sense so I wouldn't disregard them as being hers just yet." Morgan passed Hotch a rinsed out coke bottle with water which Aaron used to drop little bits of water onto Emily's mouth. "Wake up Prentiss." His voice sounded more than a bit worried.

There was a collective sigh when her eyes flickered open.

"Prentiss?" Hotch tried to keep his voice calm as he had requested the others did but this was becoming very hard to do. When she suddenly opened her eyes wide and let out a yelp of surprise he moved back to give her some space.

She sat up and watched the three of them watching her in return.

"Hotch! Sir – what on earth?" She looked at the others. "Oh god."

"Care to explain what's going on here?" He handed her the note which he had put in an evidence bag. "We traced your car when we couldn't get hold of you at home. What are you and Reid doing? Where is he?"

Her hands went to her head and the confusion was playing over her face. "You don't know where he is? I thought that was why you were here." She started to get up but her legs felt wobbly from the painkillers she had taken. She reached out for the cap and put it on her head. "My hair – I fell and – and needed stitches."

"What were you and Reid doing here?" The three of them were looking at the mess in the room and at the one double bed and their little stories were playing in their heads.

She started to shake her head. "Just a small road trip. He was feeling down and I was – well I had – not been feeling well and so…"

Hotch turned his back on her. "When you decide to tell me the truth go ahead."

She gestured around the room. "This – this isn't how it might look. Reid went off somewhere yesterday – no the day before. He was meant to be back but never showed up. I thought – I don't know what I thought. Everything just got so confusing."

"So you cut off your hair and started to smoke?" Hotch rounded on her again.

"We were looking for Floyd." There she'd said it. Over with. Job gone, but no more lying.

"And he was here?" Rossi was asking now.

Emily shook her head and looked down at her hands. "No he wasn't here. Look I don't know what Reid was up to, but he said he had something to do and would be back by ten in the morning….and he wasn't. I'm worried sick – I don't know where he went but I have a damned good idea and it's not somewhere I want to visit on my own."

"Keep talking Prentiss." Hotch sounded cold and more than a bit pissed off.

"He's changed a lot – since what happened. He's doing strange things. He was smoking."

Rossi showed her the cigarettes. "These are Reid's?"

A head shake again. "No – let me explain. He was smoking and acting out – said he needed to go and do something and not to follow. He was even walking differently – almost like – I don't know – it's going to sound so strange, but almost like he wasn't him. Anyway – recently since Floyd left these odd things are happening with him. I don't know what's going on. He made move on me. Quite a violent one – I had to stop him painfully. It just wasn't him."

Morgan walked over and sat on the bed next to Prentiss. "You are saying he tried to rape you?"

"No – no – not that far – but further than I was willing. Then he left – told me to get a room and not tell him where…." A shrug. "It was that night I fell and hit my head."

Hotch began talking again now. "So you say he has been doing strange things and you think you know where he might have gone? What exactly has he been doing?"

She bit on her bottom lip. "Look – I can't be sure of this – it's just a feeling. The way he was acting and talking – he pimps himself out."

"What the hell!" Morgan was on his feet. "You cannot be serious!"

"I know Floyd did it. I think he was trying to emulate him – or was being coerced to do it." She looked over at the cigarettes. "The same reason I suddenly needed to smoke when I've never done in my life and the same reason I cut my hair off. I can't explain it!"

"So Reid is missing – you have cut your hair off and started smoking and you didn't think it proper to let us know?"

She threw her hands up in defeat. "I messed up."

"Yes Prentiss you did. Get this mess cleaned up and pull yourself together. First thing in the morning I want you to go back to the office and assist Garcia in looking through the tapes. If you are well enough to pull this then you are well enough to work."

"Yes sir."

"Morgan. Stay with her will you? In case Reid or Floyd turn up."

Derek nodded and looked at the strange form of Prentiss sitting next to him. She looked so young and vulnerable. She looked like someone had taken the real Emily and replaced her with something unsure and rejected. She looked wrong.

They sat in silence as Dave and Aaron left. The door being closed locked them in the stale stench Emily had made. She looked over at Morgan and sighed.

"It made perfect sense at the time. Derek – am I losing my mind? This is complete insanity." She followed that by reaching over and picking up the cigarettes. Morgan watched her pull one from the pack and put it between her pale lips. The flick of the match and the glow on the end of the smoke and Emily was inhaling deeply. "I know I don't smoke. I can't explain my sudden urge to need to smoke forty a day." She looked at the thing in her hand and took another long drag.

-o-o-o-

Pa walked out to the woodshed.

The noises had stopped now and he wasn't even sure that is where they had been coming from but he had to check. The kids said he was dead but they tied him up. They said he was dead but they also said he was bleeding. They said his brains were all over the forest so how was he still alive. Seepage. Had to be – that and wild imaginations.

He had a torch in one hand and the shotgun over his shoulder. He pulled it round and readied it before pulling the shed door open.

The smell hit him hard. He took a step back and shone the torch in. Something in there was rotting pretty bad. There was no movement but he could see a lump under the tarpaulin. A careful step forward and he prodded it with barrel of the rifle.

Nothing.

Another step and he reached down and pulled the cover away.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13 Pictures and Cream

Chapter 13

**A/N: Various nasties alert**

Pictures and Cream

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

They stopped off at the local PD first to get information on the area. Where would the right area be to start looking?

They also got Garcia to fax over a picture of the missing Reid that they could show around. They took copies of it so they could hand them out and maybe contact them if they saw him or remembered him. Rossi wrote a phone number down on the back and with a local cop to show them the way the left to look for Spencer.

There was like in most major towns in this area which would be the most likely for them to start. The officer with them warned them that some people will get very defensive, but they already knew that. They knew that this was not going to be easy and to actually find Reid there was going to be heart breaking. Hotch walked with a twist in his guts hoping that they didn't find what they were looking for but this time of the evening would be the best time to start looking.

The road was brightly lit and full of mainly men of various ages. They followed the officer as they walked past a bar club and a bar and then he stopped at a dark side street.

"Your best bet would be to start here. Then try the bar."

A nod and with pictures in hand the three men started to walk down the street. Most people pulled back into the shadows but Hotch and Rossi especially were looking out for that one person they dreaded they would find here.

Someone walked over to Hotch. "You're not really welcome here – your sort."

Hotch showed him the picture. "I'm looking for this person. Have you seen him over the past couple of days – or nights."

"I don't look at faces. The face isn't what people come here for. You have other pictures I might be able to recognise." He was smirking.

Hotch pushed the bit of paper into the young man's hand. "This is very important. The phone number is on the back – if you see or hear anything."

"I won't." He gave it back again. "As I said – I don't go looking at the faces."

Rossi stepped in. "He's new to the area. He would have looked awkward. Out of place. Looking nervous. He's tall – over six foot – skinny."

He took the picture back again and had another look. "I don't remember – sorry." He folded the paper up and put it in his pocket. "Someone else might've…he's gone missing?"

"He would have been here a couple of days ago."

"Sorry – wish I could help….a few new guys went missing a month or so ago….no one's bothered though. What does it matter if one or two junky rent boys goes missing?"

Hotch nodded. "Thank you – we will keep looking and you have information on the other missing people?"

A shake of the head and now he was backing away. "As I said – can't help you. I don't know nothing." He turned and disappeared into the shadows.

They carried on walking and trying to talk to people but they few who would talk to them and would look at the picture said they hadn't seen him or hadn't been around that day or night.

"Sorry can't help you." Was the phrase for the night.

The visit to the bar was a bit more helpful.

"I saw him." The barkeep was holding the picture. "Noticed him cos he looked like he was nervous or waiting for someone. He got off his face on whiskey."

Hotch sighed. "Did he leave alone?"

The guy rubbed at his nose. "Like I said – looked like he was waiting for someone who never turned up. He was in the men's room for an age too. Thought he was up to no good and was going to check up on him…. but he came out and just left. Sorry – didn't see which direction he took. He was staggering though."

Rossi wanted to know what he meant by 'up to no good'.

"You know – either shooting up or giving hand or blow jobs. He looked like a junky whore boy. Sorry – he's not a friend is he?"

Hotch just looked at the picture on the bar. He didn't look like a junky whore boy in the picture. It was before all of this crap though. "Keep hold of the picture – it has my phone number on the back – if he should return…"

"I'll let you know." He took the picture and put it on the shelf behind the bar. "A lot go missing you know. The kids think it's easy money. They get involved with the wrong lot and they're never seen again.

-o-o-o-

It looked like he was sleeping.

He could see his shoulders were moving, but he could also see that he was covered in insects. There were maggots crawling over his head and in his hair. Pa could see where the side of his head was missing. A huge crater. His boys were right. This should be a corpse. So why was it breathing?

Maybe it was the light from the torch and the wind….maybe….a trick of the light. He sure smelt like he was a cadaver. But he didn't look dead. It was a confusing set of signals.

Pa took one of the feet and pushed up the leg of the jeans. He carefully touched the skin. He pulled off a boot and looked at the foot. He ran a finger over it. It wasn't warm as such, but nor was it the cold hardness it should be. He pulled out a knife from his pocket and flicked it open. He cut an almost straight line across the back of Floyd's heel slicing the tendons easily. It bled. It bled a lot. This was red fresh blood – not old dead stuff which had been laying in a corpse for a day or so.

"Shit on a stick." Pa said.

He moved around to the head end of Floyd and looked again at his face. His skin was white but not blotchy and not dead.

"What the hell?"

Pa crouched down and licked his finger and then placed it in front of Floyd's nose. He instantly pulled it back again when he felt the coldness of the air being exhaled from the 'body' on the shed floor.

Floyd wanted to eat him. Right there. Right then. Rip into the bastard and eat him raw. Sod the cooking. Sod getting worms….he wanted that stupid woodsman in his stomach - but all he could do was lay there. He could – he could heal quicker if he took back what he had passed onto Spence for now, but he wouldn't

Pa checked that the bonds were still tight on his hands and then went a step further by pulling off Floyd's other boot and throwing it to join the other. He noticed how revoltingly dirty this man was. He looked like a hobo druggy – which might account for the oddness….He tied Floyd's feet tightly together and then just stood there looking at him.

"I don't mean you no harm boy, but you freaking me out a bit."

'Well I mean you harm you son of a bitch whore dog.' Floyd thought back. 'Do you realise how much of a delay you have caused me by cutting my tendon?'

Unfortunately for Floyd – and fortunately for Pa the message was never received.

-o-o-o-

For Dave and Aaron it was time to book their own room – two single beds – at the motel and check in with Morgan and Prentiss.

They sat around and talked about what to do next.

It was already decided that Prentiss would go back and help Garcia. The rest of them would stay here and continue to try to track down Spencer. Tomorrow they would go out again. Different faces around at different times of the day. They also wanted to find out more about the other missing people and figure out if it had anything to do with their missing agent. Until then – they all needed to sleep.

Emily didn't mind sharing with Derek if he didn't mind – which he didn't. He was a gent and lay on the floor with a pillow and a couple of blankets. He didn't sleep well. A lot of the night he was awake listening to Emily shout out in her dreams. Unknown words and a jumble of things he could make no sense of. He didn't know she had nightmares, but something bad had happened. Again something out in that damned forest when she had been alone with Floyd and Morgan was very afraid for her. She was cracking up and he doubted that sending her back to base to watch violent porn with Garcia was going to do much to help. Especially knowing what sort of things Reid seemed to secretly be into.

Aaron slept fitfully. His dreams full of blood and mayhem. The normal stuff.

Dave dreamed about being an ant and living in a huge colony in Lanzarote.

-o-o-o-

The morning.

Spencer opened his eyes and could still feel the warmth of someone behind him. For the briefest of moments he thought it was Floyd and then it all came back in small jerking gap filled lumps. With a long sigh he rolled over onto his back and looked to his side at the man sleeping next to him. A pair of green eyes were looking back.

"They will bring breakfast in soon. It's a good idea to try to eat it."

"I'm not hungry." Ardal turned over so he too was laying on his back. Reid reached over and took hold of one of his hands. "Thank you."

"You still need to eat Spencer. They work you hard. They will work you very hard." He squeezed Reid's hand gently. "Come on. Get up and get washed. I need to check your back for you."

Spencer used the 'facilities' while Ardal washed and then they swapped places. He was still washing when he felt the hands on his back. They both had on short bath robe type things.

"Let me check on your back."

Spencer just shook his head. "Really my back is fine."

Ardal frowned and pulled up the hem of Spencer's gown. There were very faint marks on his skin, but they could have come from anywhere. "Holy cows you do heal quickly."

Reid shrugged. It wasn't something he was fully able to explain. He knew it had something to do with Floyd but that was not an area he felt comfortable talking to Ardal about.

Ardal dropped the fabric again and watched Spencer's reflection in the mirror by looking over his shoulder. "What do they give you?"

Reid looked in the mirror and talked back at the reflection. "Give me?"

"They have something for everyone. Don't know how they decide but they like to keep us doped up for the shows."

It was now that the door opened and someone walked in with a tray in each hand. "Food. Eat up quickly – they want you both ready in fifteen minutes."

Ardal just nodded and took the trays. Spencer stood and stared.

"Want us both?"

Ardal shrugged. "Just go with the flow. So – you didn't tell me. What do you give you?"

Spencer put his fingers to his mouth and sighed. "Ether."

For some reason this put a very big smile on Ardal's face. "Well that explains why they want us both. Eat! You are going to need all the strength you can."

It was a small green plastic bowl full of sliced fruit. A bottle of mineral water and a small pot of natural yoghurt.

"I really don't think I want to." Spencer poked the food with his fingers. They had no utensils to eat with. "Ardal – how long have you been here?"

He reached over and picked up a slice of fruit from Reid's bowl. He lifted it to Spencer's mouth. "Eat."

"I don't……….."

"Want to….I know I heard you, but the better you perform for them the better they treat you. You must've done good yesterday. If you don't eat you can't do what they want then you get down graded. Please eat."

Reid had managed to eat half of the fruit when the door was opened again. "Ready boys?"

Ardal put a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Remember – go with the flow. There is absolutely no point in resisting it."

Spencer looked at Ardal and wondered what hell they must have put this person through for him to have reached this point.

-o-o-o-

They were taken to the room Spencer had been in the day before….only this time he was a bit more lucid. He hadn't noticed the video equipment before or if he had he had forgotten about it. He looked around the room with a growing panic building up inside him. Ardal walked over to the side and removed his robe and stood waiting to be told what to do. Reid just stood staring around frozen to the spot.

The command for him to strip got them nothing.

He couldn't hear what they were saying to him. All he could hear was his heart thumping and the blood rushing in his ears. He tuned slowly to face Ardal who was standing buck naked scratching at his inner elbow.

Spencer took two steps towards him before he was called to a sudden halt.

"Stop! Hands and knees now!"

………..and he was down. No hesitation. There was a sudden rush of sound behind him that he couldn't make out but it might have been laughing. But all Reid could think of now was 'keep still keep still keep still'.

Hands pulled off what small amount of clothing he had on and then a loud commanding voice in his ear. "On your back."

Which involved moving but the command seemed definite. He moved so slowly hoping that by making no sudden moves the pain wouldn't start. He felt sick with the fear of what these people could do to him if he didn't do what they said, but also Taki's rules mixed in with them were fogging his mind over and making his hands shake.

"Just lay still there." The same voice.

He lay staring at the ceiling with his arms wrapped across his chest and his knees pulled up close. He could hear the sounds of chains clanking and scraping.

One hand and then the other was unfolded from him and pulled to the side. They clamped wide cuffs around them and pulled them out so his arms where straight out. They left his feet how they were.

A harness was then placed over his head and his head was pulled back so that he wouldn't be able to turn his head sufficiently to look towards the camera. They wanted to keep this one for a while. This fast healer was going to be fun.

He wanted to – really – scream , that would have been a noise he needed to remain silent. He could feel angry tears though. He didn't know what he was angry at right now, but he thought it was maybe himself – but still his brain wouldn't connect properly and allow him to think straight.

Spencer didn't see them offer Ardal a rag – and didn't see Ardal shake his head slowly. He didn't hear the quiet – "No." that he said either…all he could hear was 'Keep still stay quiet. Keep still stay quiet.' Hammering in his head over and over in time to his heart beating much too fast.

The stinking cloth held over his face was almost a relief. He knew at least now that this wasn't him it was happening to anymore. He looked up at the face of the dark haired man with the cloth and wondered if it was him who was going beat him today but after a while and when he began to float he saw him walk away and Ardal join him.

Ardal pushed Spencer's legs down so that he could sit across his thighs. He ran a comforting hand over Reid's stomach.

"Was the head thing necessary?" He asked and was told it was. Ardal sighed and put his hand out. "Pass it over then." A metal canister was placed in Ardal's hand and from where Reid seemed to be watching from on the other side of the room down a deep long tunnel he panicked. He really wanted to scream out again but knew now he should try to keep his mouth shut but he could feel Ardal's hands slowly moving up his body and someone shout something off in the distance and Spencer watched from his hiding place as Ardal crawled up along his body and held the canister next to his face.

"Open up Spencer. Get it over with."

He could hear the words but they seemed to be jumpy and scratchy and too fast and too slow at the same time.

"Please." He asked. "They will tell me to hit you Spencer. I don't want to. Please open up. It won't hurt. I promise I wont hurt you."

He had heard promises like that before and they were lies …always lies. Everyone he ever met and got close to wanted to hurt him and Ardal was no different. Spencer blinked and slowly opened his mouth.

Whipped cream and nitrous oxide entered his mouth and system throwing all sense and knowledge of what was going on out of the window. He did try to whip his head from side to side as Ardal fed him and the chemicals mixed with the petroleum ether and too Reid to a whole new level of being.

As Ardal moved down Reid careful now with the canister and squirting little bits of whipped cream out and licking it greedily from Spencer's throat and moving down clawing and sucking at the skin and the cream…Reid was somewhere else. Not very pleasant either as the room got closer and the ceiling fell and threatened to crush him under the weight and angels sung to him love songs and Floyd –

Floyd was shouting at him….

'_Are you stupid?'_

'_What the fuck are you doing?'_

'_You are going to just lay there and let them do that to you?'_

'_Get up. Kick him in the balls….Spence – babes – I want to help you but I can't do everything.'_

'_Get him off you!'_

'_Babes – where the hell are you? I can't hear you.'_

And Reid was screaming back in a language he didn't even know he knew.

Now another rag was being placed over his face and he was somewhere else….Somewhere where this wasn't Ardal now on him taking him – having him in front of cameras – it was Raphael and he leaned in with the canister in his hands and …………..

………………he was standing against the wall again. His head dropped down in the dark and the whip being used over his back. This time he could feel it. It felt as though pieces of his flesh were being ripped away – as the warm blood oozed down his legs and he shook his head violently from side to side.

When his back arched and he began making odd noises, they stood back and watched Reid seize. It was interesting. The punters would enjoy that. They kept the cameras running. This new boy was getting a lot of hits and reviews coming in fast and thick…….

They would do something else tomorrow. Keep them interested in him. Eventually maybe let them see the face. It was such a pretty face. Such a sad face. When the fitting stopped and Reid just hung by his wrist from the chains they cut transmission and let Ardal take him away.

"Clean him up like yesterday. You did good."

-o-o-o-

Again Ardal spent time cleaning the blood off Spencer. They had used him for hours today, Ardal didn't know how this person had survived it. He thought when he had the seizure that they had killed him. How much can one person take?

He rolled Spencer over onto his back and looked down at him. Reid blinked back.

"What happened?"

Ardal shook his head and smiled. "Whip-it."

"Oh god."

"My turn." Ardal moved over and lay on his back and smiled at Spencer as he took the canister from his hand. "I told you they look after you if you perform well and you did a splendid job out there. We have a whole canister to ourselves and something to snort."

Reid moved so that he was on his knees and looked down at his new friend.

"Open wide."

* * *


	14. Chapter 14 Practice

Chapter 14

Practice

_I know you've heard it a thousand times before. But it's true -- hard work pays off. If you want to be good, you have to practice, practice, practice. If you don't love something, then don't do it: -__Ray Bradbury_

**A/N: WARNING: LIGHT HARDLY TO BE SEEN SLASH**

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Prentiss was pleased to be away from everyone else again and on her way back to the BAU. She really didn't know what help she was going to be for Garcia and actually didn't even know what Penelope was looking at the tapes for. Looking for any clues as to where it was happening she supposed. Then her mind drifted to Floyd and what he was doing. She was sure something had happened. Something bad had happened.

Emily pulled over the SUV and took out the pack of smokes. She got out of the car and sat on a grass verge and it up. Not a very busy road – quiet enough for her to be able to just relax and smoke. This was becoming more and more enjoyable for her and the less revolting it seemed the more she needed to smoke.

"You can't smoke can you? What happened Floyd? Where are you that you can't have a smoke of your own?"

There was no reply and if there had been she would probably have swallowed the cigarette in shock….She lay back and looked at the sky. Wasting time. Procrastinating – she didn't want to look at the video's with Garcia and yet something else was telling her it was important. She was being punished.

A small chuckle.

"I'm losing my mind and being punished for it."

Another laugh and another cigarette.

"I know you want me to stay on the road and keep driving, but you want me to do this too, and Floyd honey as much as I love you – I'm not going to smoke and drive. One or the other."

A deep breath and she relaxed in the long grass again.

-o-o-o-

"This is no good." Garcia was saying into the phone. "I need more…there is nothing on these tapes to identify anything. I need the address for the live feed." Listening. "Well I understand that your client is trying to protect himself, but really, I can't do what I am expected with the material you are providing me with." A pause. "What_ am_ I getting? A lot of bad dreams. Now please will you explain to your client that we need the address so that I can do my job. I will be waiting for your call. Thank you." She hung up and looked at the pile of DVD's she still had to get through and listened to the ping of a new lot being delivered to her email.

She took her glasses off and cleaned them on a tissue and then put the tissue in the bin and the glasses back on her nose. "Not that it will make any difference. I still won't see anything." She muttered and set her baby up to put the next lot onto disc for her. She then moved over to the one she had been using with the video programs running and put the next disc in.

-o-o-o-

He felt a bit better today. His lungs nicely filled with noxious fumes thanks to dear Emily. He needed to be careful with that one though. He didn't want to damage her – but as she had a thing for him anyway it was all too easy to abuse her willingness. His mind was slowly pulling back together but it was going to be a very long slow process unless he borrowed a bit of himself back for a little while. He tried to pull at his hands to get them out of the bonds but all he could manage was to wiggle his fingers.

Floyd blinked.

"About bloody time." He managed to whisper to himself. "I hope you are making good use of me babes….I have a feeling you will have a lot of explaining to do. Not that you will want me. You've moved on. So why am I still giving you part of me? Damn you Spence. Damn you to hell."

He could wiggle the toes on one foot but the one which had been sliced across the back he was putting all his foot power into healing that. As for his brain. Slow but sure did the job – don't they say?

It itched. He wanted to put his hand inside of his skull and pull out the insects and maggots. At least that would help speed things up a bit.

He licked his lips and then wiggled his fingers. Tomorrow. He thought by this time tomorrow he would be able to move a bit better….though he was still unsure whether he would be able to actually get the whatever the hell it was off his hands.

But still the over riding need to scrape at the inside of his skill with his fingernails was making his eyes water.

It was late in the evening when someone paid him a visit again. Pa once more. Again with his shot gun, which Floyd had every intention of inserting somewhere painful in Pa as soon as he could – and a flashlight. Floyd closed his eyes as the tarpaulin was dragged off him and the light shone over his body.

"Well stone the crows."

Pa lifted up Floyd's feet and looked at the scabbed over slice on the back of his heel.

"You sure heal well for a dead guy." He prodded him with the barrel of the gun and Floyd allowed him to kick him over so he was laying on his back. Insects with too many legs scuttled away and maggots lay writhing where Floyds broken head had been laying. He looked down at the fading mark on Floyd's stomach where Pa's son had sliced him. It was a lumped up purple line now. "This just aint natural. I'm gonna have to report you to someone. Once you's better and we've had chin wag."

He threw the tarp back over him and left walking backwards. No way was he going to put his back to that thing. He put an extra lock on the shed door that evening. He didn't want anyone wandering in and finding his treasure.

-o-o-o-

Rossi, Morgan and Hotch went back to the area they had been in the night before. A different crowd of people were out in the daylight. Maybe someone here had seen Reid. Again they handed out pictures and again they were told – "No sorry haven't seen him."

It made Hotch's stomach tighten with distress as he walked down this street and saw were they had handed out the pictures the night before they had been discarded on the ground. He bent down and picked a couple of them up.

"He can't just disappear." He muttered looking down at the damp dirty picture he had in his hand.

"Maybe we are looking in the wrong place." Morgan looked around the filthy street they were standing in and tried to imagine Reid wanting to be here in the first place.

Hotch shook his head. "He was here. The barkeep recognised him. If not in this actual street then he was close by. Someone saw him. He is fairly distinctive looking and was drunk. Keep asking until we get an answer from someone."

It was a long day taken up with small rest stops of coffee and trying to work out what to do next. Reid just seemed to have disappeared of the face of the earth. No one had seen him expect the guy in the bar who said Reid had spent and abnormal amount of time in the men's room and left appearing drunk. Hotch's fears now were that it wasn't just alcohol he had been consuming. He wanted to go back and check out the men's room…Talk to the cleaner. There had to be a clue somewhere of what happened to him once he walked out of the doors.

The three of them went back to the bar. A uncomfortable silence swept over the place as they walked in. Obviously they were not normal customers. Not one of them had a big bushy moustache or a leather cap for starters. They were cops. It stood out a mile – and the cuffs hanging from Morgan's utility belt just confirmed any doubts anyone might have.

Again they spoke to the barkeep.

"He hasn't been back."

"I was wondering." Hotch was asking. "If I could talk to the cleaner of the men's room."

Morgan looked over at the door and started walking over towards them.

"Well they don't get cleaned everyday."

Morgan stopped and turned around again. "Have they been cleaned since he was here?"

A slow shake of the head. "Nope."

Again Morgan started to walk towards to men's room….now not really looking forward to what he might find in there.

He pushed open the door and pulled on his latex gloves. It wasn't a very large area. Three stools and a urinal. The bin was over flowing and there was mess up the walls that he didn't want to get to close to. Reid had spent an unusual amount of time in here. Only a few reasons he would be doing that. He pushed open the first stool door. The toilet was flushed and reasonably clean. There was a puddle on the floor behind the toilet which was probably from a leaking pipe. The next stool had liquid on the floor. This was not from a leaking pipe. Morgan was careful not the step in it. Again the toilet it self was clean and flushed. The final one was about the same as the second. A puddle of something not very nice on the floor….accompanied this time with what looked like vomit.

Morgan backed out and went to the bin. He tipped the rubbish onto the counter by the washbasins. There was no evidence of drug use. That really was what he was looking for. So if Reid wasn't taking drugs in here…and assuming he would have left what his rubbish behind….what was he doing?

"So Reid….you were sitting drinking alone…maybe a bit nervous….maybe waiting for someone. You get up to use the facilities and come in here. Then what, man? Where were you doing in here for so long?"

He stood by the door and tried to envisage a slightly inebriated Reid. He thought back to the few times Reid had drunk too much. Usually when he was visiting him. He usually finished the session with a visit to the washrooms. "You were being sick." He made sure all the rubbish was back in the bin and he left the smelly room again. He felt ill imagining the guy he liked to think of as a kid brother kneeling in the filth throwing up.

With a shake of the head from Morgan, Rossi and Aaron turned to leave. "Please don't forget to call…."

"He won't be back…that type never return."

Rossi turned back again. "That type?"

The barkeep shrugged. "He looked like he was waiting for his man – who it seems didn't turn up. He looked like he was going out to get his jollies somewhere else. I'm sure you gents know what type I'm talking about." He pulled the picture down off the shelf where he had placed it and jabbed at it with his finger. "That type."

The three of them left without a further word to him and Morgan gave his small profile of what he thought Reid was doing in the men's room. "Throwing up. We know he can't hold his drink and he had been sitting for a good part of the afternoon alone."

"And I know he's not eating properly either." Hotch added.

"Drugs?" Rossi this time. "I know you don't want to see it that way, but in my view Reid has had a type of breakdown or a snap of some kind. He's acting out of character – he's managed to get Prentiss involved in this hunt for Floyd, who I believe had run off and left the young man. A lovers tiff." Rossi was rubbing the toe of his shoe on the ground outside. "So why bring Prentiss? And then why split up to do what ever it was he had planned."

They walked thoughtfully back to the SUV but with no more clues than he was in the bar and left a bit drunk they had no ideas.

The drive back to the motel was also in relative silence – each of them playing over in their heads what might have happened when he left the bar. He may have just continued his journey to find Floyd, but not likely. He wouldn't have come all the way down to this part of town just to drink. He was here for a reason, and they all knew that Floyd hung out in areas like this, so was he looking for Floyd here? Not likely either. He had told Prentiss he was going to Maine and so why? Unless he liked to do this, unless this was a side of Reid he had always kept close and never revealed for very obvious reasons, but that seemed wrong too. Everything about it just totally out of character and how could Floyd be coercing him if he wasn't even near by?

They went back to the motel and sat around in the room Hotch and Rossi had, brainstorming ideas to and throw and getting now where and now it was getting dark and another night was going to pass and nothing. No leads. Just one big fat dead end.

-o-o-o-

Prentiss went home. She knew she had been told to get working with Garcia but it was already mid afternoon and she had wasted too much time. Emily called Pen as soon as she arrived home.

"Hey I'm back. Hotch wants me to come in and give you a hand there, but I really need a shower and to change my clothes first." Listening. "Ok Garcia. See you tomorrow."

That was a relief. She walked over to the big double doors leading to a small balcony big enough for half a person to stand on. She pulled the doors open and stood taking in the afternoon air – and then a quick smoke before a shower. She pulled her cap off and threw it across the room and ran her fingers through her hair. "Screw you all." She muttered and took in a deeper drag. Her headache had cranked up a notch too and so she went to her flight bag and emptied the contents onto the floor. She picked up the pills and wandered into the bedroom.

-o-o-o-

The Morning.

"Wake up love birds….we have a job for you."

Spencer's eyes shot open to see a large man standing over the bed. Ardal groaned next to him and snuggled in deeper to Spencer.

"A j job?" He reached over and shook his bed mate. "Ardal – wake up."

"We worked hard all day yesterday." Ardal let the man know. "We need a rest. Spencer especially."

A hand took hold of Reid's arm and started to drag him off the bed. "Well sorry about that my lord, but the boss requires that the pair or you shower."

The pissed off look on Ardal's face changed to a big smile. "A shower? Spence it's OK….just a shower. We got a bit messy last night is all."

Reid pulled his gown on around his shoulders as Ardal noticed again how quickly he had healed. There was hardly a mark on his skin today. It confused him but he didn't say anything, not now. But he knew for sure that it wasn't makeup they had used on him yesterday.

No breakfast to start this day off with.

They were led to a big room. The shower as such was central. Reid had only seen things like this in movies. Multiple jets were on the ceiling pointing down and their where four clear glass walls. Ardal took his robe off and looked at Spencer who was just standing with his mouth slightly open. "Spence. It's ok. It'll be fun." He moved to Reid and pulled his robe off for him and took him by the hand. "Just relax Spencer. I'm right here with you."

Reid looked over at Ardal. "But…"

A shake of the head. "Remember – I'm looking after you – I wouldn't do anything to hurt you Spencer." A smile and he walked in through the shower door with Spencer in tow. The water started automatically and Ardal just stood for a while looking at Reid and watching the confusion on his face. He carefully bent down and picked up a bottle of soap.

He stood behind Reid and poured some soap out onto his hand – slowly wiping across his back and down his sides. Spencer just stood with his hands by his sides and his eyes closed. Again something was betraying how he thought he should be feeling. Something inside of him – his spirit – was screaming at him to turn around right now and get on his knees. He took a deep breath and spun quickly on the spot so he was facing Ardal. He placed a hand on each of his shoulders and pushed him back until his back was against the glass wall of the shower. The water was pouring down his face and over his skin as Reid slowly licked and sucked and nibbled his way down Ardal's chest. One of his hands now replaced the one Ardal hand been using on himself as he slid down to his knees.

The cameras got good views of what Spencer did with his mouth. He had obviously done this before – they watched Ardal's back arch as Spencer gripped his partners hips and pulled him closer. They saw Ardal's hands holding Spencer's head in place and they picked up every grunt and moan and whimper made.

The cameras picked up the images of Spencer getting back to his feet and pressing Ardal against the wall…the water pouring down the glass distorted faces but the expressions were there. As Spencer now took his place behind Ardal and one hand was on his shoulder with the nails digging into the soft flesh and the other was holding onto Ardal's own bony hip.

It became evident to them that this Spencer person was going to get them a lot of money. He healed remarkably fast – he never seemed to be lacking the ability to perform and oh yes – he was a dirty boy! And now Ardal was on his back and Reid was smiling in a sort of manic way with his eyes glazed over which would have alarmed Ardal if he had been looking.

-o-o-o-

In the shed.

He tried not to make too much noise, it being the morning and all. He didn't want them to come in and find that he had finally managed to get his hands free and he certainly didn't want to be disturbed right now as he fucked Ardal by proxy.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15 A Little More

Chapter 15

**A/N: Drugs and coffee alert! Slight implied slash.**

A Little More

_Work was impossible. The geeks had broken my spirit. They had done too many things wrong. It was never like this for Mencken. He lived like a Prussian gambler -- sweating worse than Bryant on some nights and drunker than Judas on others. It was all a dehumanized nightmare...and these raddled cretins have the gall to complain about my deadlines: -__Hunter S. Thompson_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

She had lay on the bed all night with her eyes open looking into the darkness and muttering to herself. At about five in the morning when the last of the cigarettes had gone from the pack she stretched and slid off the bed. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror on the wall and the grubby person who looked back didn't look like the Emily she had known all her life.

Briefly she considered a shower but decided to pop to the small twenty-four hour store first and get another pack or two, and maybe even a lighter. She pulled on an old battered leather jacket over the top of her vest and a pair of combat boots and wearing the same clothes she had for days now – she left her apartment.

Outside the store was an ATM, and so she withdrew as much as she could and then walked into the store. She got four packs of smokes…a yellow disposable lighter and a bottle of water. Having paid for them on her card she then walked to the end of the street where there was a small place she passed often and dreamed of entering.

It sold bikes. She hadn't had much of an opportunity to ride the one she had hired and luckily this place was open already. Again paying on her card and sorting out insurance in the shop she was ready to ride it out within the hour. Water smokes and money stored in the pannier – she looked both ways before pulling out onto the street and heading out of the city. Garcia would understand. She would call Hotch. She would have to let him know. Emily needed to find Floyd.

-o-o-o-

The morning saw the remaining agents heading back to the SUV for a journey back to base. It just wasn't possible to spend any more time here. They didn't even know if this is where Reid was. He could have gone anywhere….as Emily had said, he may have carried on his journey.

The phone buzzing in Hotchner's pocket caused him to pause as Rossi and Morgan carried on walking to the car.

It was an unknown number and so with caution he took the call.

"Hotchner." Firm and authoritative. "Yes." Listening. "Where are you?" The other two turned around to look at Hotch who had now raised a 'wait a minute' hand to them both. "I will meet you there." Again listening. "Tell me where and I will see you and yes they will be with me." A pause. "I will find it." He snapped his phone shut and looked up at the other two. "Someone thinks they saw Reid."

They walked closer with a questioning look on their faces.

"The day Prentiss last saw him. He says he has some information. Paradise Diner on 4th street."

Morgan nodded. "What are we waiting for then."

"Just understand that this might be a false lead. I want to find him. I need to know where he is, but I wont raise my hopes on one report that he was seen."

Rossi was nodding now.

"As long as we are clear." Hotch looked at Derek. "And please – as before…."

"I know….calm."

They walked quickly now to the car. The only lead in so much time was a relief but as Hotch had said, it might be nothing. It might just be someone looking for a reward of some kind.

As Hotch was getting in to ride shotgun his phone began to buzz again. He pulled it out and once again it was an unknown number. He put it to his ear once more and spoke.

"Hotchner." Again a pause and a frown. "No Prentiss that is not good. I need you to go back to base and assist Garcia." Listening. "No – Prentiss you are not listening properly. I need you do go back now." Hotch's face looked like a thunderstorm had broken out overhead. "Well I'm not agreeing to it so you may not. Go back." Listening again. "You will stop with these games now. I don't know what you think you are doing, but you will return immediately. You have a job to do and I am not granting you personal time until it has been done………" a pause. "Prentiss? Prentiss?" He looked down at the phone and snapped it shut.

"Just get us to the diner Morgan." He snapped at Derek and offered no explanation of the telephone call.

The place was a bit out of the way and slightly run down and probably made most of it's money from street folk during the early hours of the morning. Right now it was empty apart from the two members of staff and the skinny kid sitting in the corner looking nervous. When Hotch looked over in his direction he held up one of the pictures Hotch and the others had been handing out. Rossi ordered four coffees and then they all went over to meet the guy. Hotch introduced themselves and watched as the young guy looked like he wanted to scarper.

"I didn't know you were Feds." His voice was shaking almost as much as his hands were.

"Hotch sat and slid across to face him. Rossi sat down right on the edge of the same bench seat the guy was sitting on. Just in case he wanted to escape. Morgan stood with his arms folding being calm.

They just sat in silence until the coffee arrived. Once settled Hotch started to talk.

"You've seen him?" He tapped the bit of paper.

A nod "I'm sure it was him. But he looked sorta skinnier and ill."

"Can you tell me what he was wearing?" Hotch needed to be sure it was Reid he had seen.

"It was dark. Look he had dark jeans on and a white shirt I think…I'm sure he did….and he was dirty. Most of the boys down there are very particular about hygiene and stuff….but he was noticeable cos he was so grubby. I didn't get close enough to see how bad he smelt. Thought didn't want to."

Hotch hated the way his youngest team member was being described but he bit down what he wanted to say in defence and kept going. "Anything else?"

"He was stoned – or drunk. Could hardly stand up straight. He was leaning on the wall. Waiting."

"And?"

"Well he went off with someone."

Hotch's stomach tightened again in pain of what he was hearing. "Did they talk? Do you know who he went off with?"

"They had a few words exchanged then he went off with Gert, but I'm telling you that boy couldn't walk a straight line – I don't know what Gert wanted with him – he's usually dead fussy and only takes to the pretty boys."

Morgan's arms unfolded and he wiped his sweaty palms on a napkin off the table. He took a glance and Hotch and re-folded his arms. It was taking all his mental power to stop jumping this guy and pounding him into the floor.

"Why didn't you tell us all of this earlier? Why wait until days after the event?" Rossi wanted to know.

The guy turned to Rossi. "I've not been around. Found this on the floor when I got back."

"And so Gert…" Hotch was talking again. "You can tell us where to find him?"

A twitch of the face. "Well here's the thing – I know where he takes the boys…and you know…they make out, but no one actually seems to know where he lives. He's never taken anyone home with him. So really you know – I wouldn't think he's still with Gert. But that's a guess….Gert never takes anyone home and he wouldn't stay in that rat hole he takes the boys back to."

And so this is why they were back once more at the small street. Now they were sure this was the last place Reid had been and for some unknown reason he had been waiting for someone. Whether he already knew Gert and it was him he had been waiting for he didn't know but Hotch was sure that Reid would never have come to this town in the first place without some sort of coercion and he definitely wouldn't have got drunk and then hung out with drug addicts and prostitutes. It was so far off from what Reid would do that it was almost laughable. But the lead had to be followed up.

The three of them walked down the small street. The smells were the same as last time. Dirt and old sweat. The door way they were told about was easy enough to find and they were standing in the very large dark room that Reid had been in not so long ago. They could see movement around in the edges of the room. It was disgusting and filthy but it was the door directly across from them that they were interested in. The room Gert took his boys to.

Hotch felt sick. If this man had taken Reid in there and he hadn't been seen since and Gert also seemed to have gone then what was behind that door? Were they going to find a corpse? Or had this all been a mistake and it wasn't Spencer that the guy had seen. They walked slowly forwards. Hotch's brain wanted him to run and kick the door down and scream….but his body forced him to stay calm and walk. They readied their side arms and Hotch pulled the bolt across on the door.

It opened with the sound of a long drawn out sigh.

They shone torches around the room and though the smell was revolting it didn't have the smell of depomp to it. The flashlights reflected off the chains on the wall and the mess over the floor. They could see blood and stains of all kinds over the bed and some dirty clothes thrown into the corner. Carefully with gloved hands Rossi picked through some of the things. Dark jeans, a very bloody dirty white shirt, odd socks…grimy boxers and a pair of shoes….it was the socks which made Hotch squeeze his eyes shut. He needed to try to get rid of the images shooting through his mind.

"I'll call the CSU." Rossi walked away to get a cell signal and Morgan just stood still….scared if he moved he would lose the false wall of calm he had around him.

"So where the hell is he now?" Was what Morgan managed to finally say.

-o-o-o-

They sat in their small room. Ardal was sitting on the edge of the bed. Spencer on the same bed but sitting with his back against the wall and his knees pulled up tight the small robe tied tightly around him and his arms wrapped around his legs.

"You confuse me." Ardal suddenly said.

Reid looked at the back of his companions head. "I don't want to do it."

"You made that perfectly clear, but it's more fun if you do it with someone. You know – like drinking."

Spencer pulled an annoyed face. "You don't have to do it either you know."

Ardal turned slightly so he was facing Reid. "But it's what gets me through."

Spencer nodded. "I understand – but I don't like it and I won't join you."

Ardal fiddled with the mirror he had on his lap and turned away again. "Why the self righteous act Spencer? You are more than happy to do Ether when offered."

Spencer pulled his knees up even tighter. "No – Ardal – no I'm not happy."

Now the mirror was on the bed next to Spencer and Ardal was moving back to sit next to him. "Just once."

"How many times is not the point. I have seen what this stuff does to people. I'm not joining you and I wish you would just throw it away and forget about it. I'll hold you – I'll help you."

"And that's not the point either. I want to do this. It numbs everything else. I would explode and die if I couldn't numb those empty places – or at least be able to forget and escape."

And those words had Reid looking at Ardal in the face and he though maybe this man had seen right into his soul.

"I really do understand." Spencer put a hand on the side of Ardal's face. "But I can't join you."

He watched with resigned sadness as Ardal prepared the powder.

He watched as he moved the blade over and almost like magic split the powder

'_for me babes….one line for me.'_

Reid frowned and shook his head.

'_I got shot in the head Spence. I gave you all my healing stuff to help you. Now you help me back. One line babes.'_

'_For me.'_

'_I do love you – you know that don't you?'_

"One." Spencer's voice was a whisper but Ardal still heard it.

"Thank you." Ardal looked at Reid and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

Reid took a short length of straw from him. "I'm not doing it for you."

He leaned forward and took one single line.

'_Thanks babes. You are my number one whore you know.'_

-o-o-o-

Garcia waited for a short while for Emily to arrive but when she didn't turn up she just carried on watching show after show. She had started to try to do facial recognition on any faces she could get a proper look at, but they were careful not to show the faces of the people without masks things on their faces to disguise what they looked like.

A new one just arrived. She marked it to save and watched the first few seconds.

"Well that's a bit different for a change." She said to herself as she caught a peek of two men in a shower. For now though she turned back to the back log she needed to try to wade through.

More whippings and beatings and lots of sex but no faces.

"I need a whole new sort of recognition software for this stuff." She muttered to herself.

-o-o-o-

He waited until he was sure they had gone until he pushed the tarpaulin off and sat up. He carefully touched the side of his head. The new bone was soft and the hair still not grown back properly…it was in fluffy clumps right now, but doing ok really. He now looked down at his feet and stated to removed the bindings around his ankles. He didn't know how well his tendon had heeled yet and now testing it he could tell that it was not right yet. He would need to be very careful with it.

Floyd reached over and pulled one boot and then the other over and pushed his feet back into them. He never felt quite right without these things on his feet and now he had to ask some questions – but he had no stuff.

"Great now what the fuck am I meant to do?" He held his hands out in front of him and watched them shaking. "You really don't want me to succeed do you? Why did you create something so fucked up and then let it loose? Why are you surprised it keeps messing up? Why do you fucking hate me so bloody much!" He had raised his voice from the original whisper to a shout. A deep in take of breath and he closed his eyes and thought.

"Spence. Just do it. You will be helping me so much. Just for once in your sodding pathetic lousy life think of me first."

A slow lazy smile spread over his face as he slipped back onto the floor of the woodshed and looked into the darkness.

-o-o-o-

"What are you doing here?" A voice in the dark.

"I need to know if I can have them." Floyd's voice sounded a long way off to him.

"Don't you know? Can't you use that all powerful mind of yours?"

"It's not working too good." A touch of sarcasm.

"I can't help you just because you have syphilitic pustules growing on your brain Floyd." A laugh in the darkness

"That's not the reason." Floyd spat back.

"But you're not going to deny it?"

"Just give me the answer I need."

"No – I told you not to come back here."

Floyd could feel the icy breath over his skin.

"Well I'm not – not really – as such."

"No - you got your whore to do it for you. Go think on those actions Floyd. Go do your job."

He opened his eyes and looked at the shed roof.

"Ohhh…decisions, decisions." And a big toothy smile.

-o-o-o-

He felt his mind slowly melt as he slid sideways and away from Ardal and whatever it was he was doing. There was a total nothingness. He pulled a slightly puzzled expression as strange voices and conversations drifted through his mind. He was sure he could hear Floyd.

"Floyd?" He reached out but there was nothing there and his mind shut down and let him fall into a deep drug induced sleep.

When he awoke he could feel warm arms tightly wrapped around him and the stale smell of sweat and sex. He had no memory of anything which had happened – if anything had indeed happened. He could feel the steady breathing of Ardal behind him. Spencer now realised that his robe was no longer on him and he tried to work out in his muddled mind if he had removed it. He could see in the dim light various things scattered over the floor and some of them made his eyes widen slightly and some of them scared him: a used syringe and some rubber tubing - paraphernalia of different types and uses and sizes. Spencer rested a hand over Ardal's and spoke his name. He didn't get a response and he didn't try talking again. The sound of his own voice he thought would cause his brain to explode. He felt a small trickle of blood begin to make its way out of his nose, but he wiped at it quickly and it didn't continue. He had no idea what he had been doing, but he could take a jolly good guess.

Spencer squeezed his eyes closed and pushed back against the only thing he could be sure of now. Ardal.

* * *


	16. Chapter 16 Toys

Chapter 16

Toys

**A/N: having a bad day….hope this chapter is ok!**

_What is grand is necessarily obscure to weak men. That which can be made explicit to the idiot is not worth my care: -__William Blake_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

She seemed to know where to go without having to think. A pull. Something dragging her along and she rode without of thought of direction as she was manipulated and coerced into doing whatever he wanted her to do. Now that he had ripped through her barriers she had nothing to protect herself with. No backup. Nothing….just a free mind which Floyd had every intention of ripping apart and using as he wished.

Really in Flanders mind it was her own fault.

If she hadn't shown so much interest in him he would never even have noticed her – but she just couldn't keep her dirty little mind closed around him and he lapped at her and sucked her in.

Emily ate at roadside stalls. She got burgers and corndogs and drank coffee…and yes she knew it wasn't healthy and good for her skin but right now she didn't give a damn about that. All she could focus on – all Floyd would allow her to focus on was finding him. The job had faded into the background. Her oath to serve the country was forgotten and any thoughts of going to work to help Garcia look at porn was eliminated. Now she needed somewhere to stay the night. The dirt from the road was sticking to her sweaty skin and she wanted to strip off and lay on a bed somewhere and read.

It was a grubby run down place but it didn't matter. She had no intention of getting under the bedcovers so any stains went unseen. She locked the door and closed the blind and stripped down and flopped on the bed. She wasn't tired. This was a different sort of feeling. As though she just needed to keep very still for a while and recharge her batteries. She lit up a cigarette and opened the bedside drawer to see what was in there. A bible. Good. Just what she was looking for.

She started at the beginning and at a speed she had only ever seen Spencer read at she started to take in the words.

-o-o-o-

The next time Reid woke up Ardal was gone.

He moved a hand behind him to feel for the warmth, but the bed behind him was cold. He opened his eyes and glanced around. The room was very much like the last time he had seen it only this time the lights were brighter. He rolled over onto his back and pulled the bed covers over with him wrapping them around his naked body.

Spencer's head was thumping and he could feel a crust of blood under his nose. Slowly he sat up and took in the mess in the room. It looked like one hell of a party. Some of the things obviously he knew what they were. He wasn't stupid. He knew what all of this meant. Reid pulled the sleeves of his robe down over his arms so he wouldn't have to look and find out if he had been doing something he really didn't want to think about. He prodded at some of the larger objects with his toe and frowned. There wasn't even a tiny bit of his brain which remembered what happened. He sat with his legs over the side of the bed and his arms tightly around himself wondering where Ardal was.

There was something about that person which seemed to keep Reid from imploding and disappearing into his own head. He was in a way keeping him sane. Spencer rubbed at the scab under his nose and then ran long sweaty fingers over his face feeling for a bruise. Usually after a night of rough sex…and this looked like it was more than a bit rough, he would have a bruise or two. Because he would have been fighting Floyd off.

He stood and walked carefully to the washbasin, being wary not to tread on anything on the floor. He filled the washbasin up with warm water and looked at the pack of razor blades on the small self next to the taps. He stared at them for a while and then at the empty place where the mirror had been. It was behind him on the floor somewhere. He would have to wash without it….The sight of it he thought would make him feel very ill. And now it was beginning to sink in what he had done. Taken cocaine for Floyd.

He put his face into the water and washed away all the mess with his fingers. He wanted to scream at himself for being so stupid, but it was his choice. No one had forced it on him. He had a good enough will power to say no…and had said 'no' and Ardal had eventually accepted it, so why had he felt the need to do that for someone who had run off and left him after one of the most horrific experiences of his life? The man was going to slice his head off.

Reid put a wet hand on the back of his neck.

And the man who professed to love him just walked off afterwards.

"You are a coward Floyd." He said as he raised his head from the water. "You get your dog to do your dirty work to leave you free. So why am I here and why are you asking me to do drugs for you Floyd? Where are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

Spencer ran a finger along the slightly raised line on the back of his neck.

"You still need me. You might not want me and I definitely don't want you, but you need me don't you? What for Floyd? And you know something else? I think you may have been right, maybe I am a fag, it was you I didn't want. It was you I was repulsed by, not my sexuality, and so Floyd why was I so compelled to find you again? And Emily? What is that all about?"

He didn't get a reply and wasn't expecting one. He wiped his face on a bunch of paper towels and threw them in the bin and then turned to look at the mess around him again.

A sigh.

Spencer felt a compulsion to pick it up and tidy but he didn't want to investigate too closely what all the things on the floor were. There didn't seem to be any food left for him. There had been none the day before either which didn't really bother Spencer but it confused him. All he had been given since he arrived was the bowl of fruit and some yoghurt – oh and cream.

Again he looked around the room….maybe he had eaten yesterday and couldn't remember. There were no signs of food here at all. Not even a Whip-it dispenser. Just sex toys and drugs. His eyes caught on the mirror on the floor and slowly he walked over to it and stood looking down. Still around the edges faint traces of white powder. The mirror was covered in finger smears. Someone had been licking their fingers and wiping them over the surface. He sighed deeply and picked it up. He would have love to have been genius enough to be able to tell if it was him or not, but he had not a clue. Under the mirror lay the small blade Ardal had used. Spencer reached down and picked that up too. Now he was looking for the straw he had used. That was the last thing he could remember doing.

"I snorted cocaine for someone I loath and wasn't even in the room with me." He said coldly looking back down at the mirror. He opened his fingers and let the things fall back down to the floor.

Now he was standing here he could see quite clearly that there was more than one syringe. Only one bit of rubber tubing, but two needles. Again he was tempted to look at his arms. To feel them through the thing fabric of the thing he was wearing, but if he did, and he if had been that stupid then he didn't think he would be able to hold himself together any longer. He tried to stop himself from looking for whatever it was had been in the needles. He really would rather have not known, but the small bits of silver foil and the stained cigarette filters laying next to the green lighter made his heart sink even lower.

"Please – please whoever is listening – not that."

Reid walked back to the bed and sat with his back to the wall. He pulled his knees up tightly to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He rested his forehead on his knees and slowly and rhythmically rocked back and forth trying to keep the tears of anger and shame back. Very slowly his fingers made their way over his arm in search for the tell tail mark on his arm.

Just a small sound escaped from between his lips and the rocking continued but now he wasn't able to keep back the tears as he left a soggy patch on the hem of his robe.

-o-o-o-

The CSU swarmed in. People were pulled in for questioning. They needed every tiny bit of information they could scrape together. As the people in the area were taken away in vans Hotch approached the supervising CSI.

"Anything?"

A shake of the head.

"All I can tell you is that a lot went on in that room. There are a lot of blood, hair and skin samples we have picked up. There is a lot of blood but nothing fatal. No signs that anyone had bleed out and no big blood splatter patterns. This place is also very dirty and there is no show to cover up what was going on here. What I am saying is, if your boy was here I would imagine he left alive. I'm only guessing though. I've seen places like this before. A sort of trial area."

"Trial?"

"For the sex industry. They set them up in places like this first. Do a screen test. If they fit the bill they use them. Sell them on."

Hotch's mind screamed at him but he stayed calm. He was glad Derek was back at the Precinct finding out about the other lads who had gone missing. Aaron felt Rossi's hand on his arm.

"Drugs?" Hotch decided that a one word question was all he could manage right now.

"Oh most definitely. There are multiple signs of different drugs used here. From cocaine to heroin and there is a smell of gasoline – I don't know if you noticed that? Ether. So yes – in answer to your questions drugs have been used. We wont be able to tell if your boy was drugged."

He looked away from Hotch who was beginning to go very pale and started talking to Rossi. "They sometimes go willingly. Not everyone has to be drugged to be used like this. Most are, but you know….for some it seems like a good way to get money. The porn industry if rife and this room has been used to check out a lot of people and they haven't been too gentle with them."

Hotch started to walk away. "We need to get back to base."

Rossi frowned and looked at Aaron's retreating back. "This is a very personal case for us."

The CSI nodded. "I understand. I will let you know as soon as we have any results of any use to you."

Rossi walked quickly behind Hotch. "Wait."

Hotch stopped and turned around.

"Aaron – explain. We have evidence that Reid was here. We haven't found this Gert person yet and Morgan is still collating information of others reported missing. We haven't started to talk to the people we took in yet."

Hotch ran his fingers through his hair. Rossi was right, but he had a horrible feeling that Reid was going to be somewhere on the tapes and videos Garcia was looking at. He looked at Rossi in the eyes and nodded. "We need to find out what happened to Reid when he left that place."

Now Rossi was nodding. He had grounded Hotch again – he was thinking as a profiler and not as a friend. A very dangerous route to take.

The questioning was done mainly by the local cops. They asked the simple question of where they had been for the past four or five nights. If they got through that stage they went onto the next. "Have you seen this man?"

Person after person shook head or scratched at chins and sometimes arses and crotches too and left a name and somewhere they could be located if needed. Names fake and the locations variable. Most of them gave the local shelter as their home address. Nearly all of them were on drugs of some kind and half of those were so tweaked that they wouldn't have known if the titanic had been in the street that night.

Finally.

"Yes I saw him. Newbie with Gert." A hand was waved and the tall if he stood up straight dead looking person in ripped clothing and battered skin was taken to the interview room by Hotch and Rossi. Morgan was faxing through pictures of the missing to Garcia to see if she could match anything.

"And Garcia – Don't forget – Reid is part of that list now."

Silence on the other end of the phone and then. "Derek – I hope to god I don't find him on any of these." Then line was cut.

They sat the guy would called himself 'Dan' down. They gave him a warm drink of cocoa. They offered him smokes. They wanted him to feel comfortable before the barrage of questions they would have for him. Rossi asked the questions this time. Hotch stood back and slid his hands into his trouser pockets.

"So you saw him?" Rossi finally started.

"In that alley way….near the bins…yeah I saw him."

"And why are you so sure it was him?"

"The eyes. Look at them! How can you forget those eyes. Never seen something so beautiful. The rest of him was wrecked. Drugged or drunk I don't know, but man those eyes…huge mothers and so sad."

"What else?"

"He didn't look clean you know? Not someone I would go to. Too thin. Too sick looking but a mouth that looked like it could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch."

Rossi closed his eyes at the image and sighed.

"Did you see if he left alone or not?"

"Gert approached him. I guess he saw those eyes and mouth too." He puffed on the cigarette. Rossi wanted to stuff it down the guys throat but had to keep like Morgan and stay calm…he was helping them.

"Where would Gert have taken him?" Rossi could see out of the corner of his eye that Hotch had started to pace.

"His room." A shrug. "Thought you knew that already as you were there ripping the place apart."

"Have you ever been there – in his room?"

"Once – but I wasn't happy with it. Didn't like the bondage stuff. Some guys are into that crap. I don't like it." He started to chew on his fingernails. "I was only there an hour or so…I guess Gert didn't think I was good enough."

"For?"

"For to bother calling in the others."

Hotch stopped pacing. "What others?"

"Oh every now and then Gert would get some other guys to come in and watch whatever was going on. They had bags like they had laptops and cameras and crap."

"And he didn't do that with you?" Rossi started asking the questions again. Hotch's agitation was all too clear.

"No – no – but he did with him." and he put his finger on the picture of Reid. They were there ages. Invited others in too…said no smoking allowed so he had the Ether going in there I reckon. They left about three hours later I suppose."

"And did you see Gert and…" Rossi placed his finger on Reid's picture. "him again?"

"Well Gert left after he did." Looking down at the picture. "He just locked up and left."

Hotch stepped in again. "The person we are looking for left? With anyone?"

A frown spread over Dan's face. "I just said didn't I? He left with the guys with the computers and stuff. They half carried him out to their car and left."

"What type of car?"

A shake of the head. "Geez man I don't know! It was dark…the car and the night both dark…and big….one of those SUV things but I have no idea what type it was.

"What was he wearing when he left.?" This was important. If he was in the same clothes they knew this guy was lying to them. They knew Reid had been stripped of his clothing.

"Same they all wear when they leave. Black sweatpants and a hoodie. Barefoot – I noticed he had nothing on his feet and before you ask. It's a one way street and I didn't see which way."

Dave smiled at him and nodded to Hotch who nodded back at him. Dave pulled another pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and placed them on the table. "You know I can't pay you for this information, but if you see Gert again we would be very interested." He slid the pack across the table towards Dan. "And Dan – thank you."

"He will be away for a while. When he gets a good payment he's always away for ages – weeks sometimes."

"We would still like to know." And he reached over and placed his hand over the hand reaching for the cigarettes. "One more thing. You said he didn't look clean."

"He looked like he was positive. You know?"

Rossi nodded.

-o-o-o-

He didn't notice that someone had walked into the room…he didn't know until he felt the pressure on the bed next to him and then the hand on his shoulder.

"Spencer?" Ardal's voice.

Reid turned to look at him.

"Spencer? What's wrong?"

"Where have you been?" Spencer felt an arm reach around his shoulders and pull him in close.

"I was working. But that's not what's wrong." He felt Spencer push in close to him almost as though he felt the need to meld physically.

"All this stuff on the floor." He felt the arm tighten. "I don't remember any of it."

He heard a small laugh. "You are upset about that? Well I can understand I suppose. You partied like an animal Spencer! It's why they gave you the day off."

"What did I take?" he squeezed in tighter. He was going to explode he knew it and Ardal was the only thing which was going to prevent that now.

"We did the lines first – you remember that don't you. You said one – then snorted half of it." Ardal could feel Spencer's shivers as he talked. "We played - and we loved each other…." Ardal's voice was getting quieter and lower and his free hand reached over and took one of Reid's hands. "We shot up and well…to be honest I don't remember much else."

"I wouldn't have!"

He hadn't known Reid long but he could hear the distress in his voice.

"It was your idea – I assumed it was something you always did." He squeezed Spencer's hand. "It's OK it doesn't mean we have to do that again. We can just snort and smoke. You are ok smoking stuff aren't you."

And he wanted to scream that this wasn't him and he was being made to do this but he couldn't make his voice work and all he could hear was.

'_Thanks babes. You would sell your soul for me wouldn't you?'_

* * *


	17. Chapter 17 Hope

Chapter 17

_The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved -- loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves: -__Victor Hugo_

Hope

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

They drove back to base.

Another two days had gone and they were still no closer to finding Reid or getting information on the whereabouts of the Gert character. The DNA results were due back any time and they drove in silence with Derek at the wheel gripping it a bit too tightly and driving a little bit too fast occasionally which Hotch let go as he was sure if he was driving he would not be coping as well as Morgan. Rossi sat in the back with his eyes locked onto the side window but his mind a million miles away. Sure he hadn't known Reid for long, but to think that one of their own had been pulled into this sickened him. Nearly a week – a week of the gods only knew what was happening to him.

Aaron could only think of what Garcia was watching. She still insisted that she had seen no faces. She couldn't get a fix on any of the pictures they had sent through. She really didn't know what else they could do until they had the web address this was all coming from and then she informed Hotch, she was doubtful, if this was as well organised as it appeared that it was going to be a walk in the park getting what information she needed. She reminded them of the complication with the Hankel case, of how it was Reid who gave them the clues on how to find him and it reminded Hotch of how they got there too late. How Spencer had had to deal with it alone. How they had failed in their rescue mission.

"I have nothing to go on. I have no faces and no idea of location yet…All I know is that it's a big operation there are multiple 'victims' and more than one room used. I've seen no windows. So I can't even tell you if this is a warehouse or a basement. There is nothing."

Hotch told her to take a break. Stay around but leave the videos for now – they would get an address for her to work on. Eventually.

They had no idea where Emily had gone. Like Reid she had simply disappeared. Her cell phone was not being answered, but at least they knew she had done this voluntarily and hadn't been pulled into the same scene as Reid seemed to have been.

Hotch had very mixed feelings on going back to base now. On one hand they could maybe get the information they needed easier, but then he felt like they were abandoning Reid. It hurt. It hurt him not only as someone he felt was a friend, but as the team leader. The team he felt was disintegrating. Maybe it was Floyd they needed.

He turned to look at Rossi sitting in the back staring at his own reflection and then turned to look at Derek eyes fixed on the road ahead, face fixed in cement so that he didn't scream and he felt he too was looking at his own shadow in the window. He was beginning to feel slightly how Prentiss must have been feeling. Something was ripping into them as individuals and tipping them into their own nightmares. He swallowed, needing to say something but not wanting to break the silence.

"We need to find Flanders." He said it as much to himself as to the team. "If there is nothing on the tape. We need to find him."

There was no reply. They were all thinking the same thing: _'We should have listened to Prentiss.' _

-o-o-o-

For Floyd things were not good. He had been left alone which was on the bright side of this miserable existence, but he was getting more and more lost with whatever was going on with Spencer. He wanted to take back some of the gift, but Reid wouldn't return it – or it was constantly in use. Floyd would have liked to have investigated what was going on because it had reached a point now that communication with him was closed. Spencer was almost always out of his mind on one thing or another. Which at first Floyd encouraged and very much enjoyed but now it was annoying. He needed to know who was hurting him – why he was in so much pain and why he was able to shoot up and snort constantly and have no barriers in his mind or life to stop it – but he couldn't. Reid wasn't listening anymore. In response to what ever Reid was doing and in fear that the one thing in his life he knew he needed was slowly going he gave him all he had.

Floyd curled up under the tarpaulin and closed his eyes and felt the maggots and insects in his brain crawling around and eating him away from the inside. That was ok…He could cope. He just needed to keep Spencer safe – and he was very aware of how much he had yet again fucked it all up.

-o-o-o-

He had fallen asleep tucked up with Ardal feeling again almost safe, but wondering where he had gone. Reid tried desperately to think back to what he was doing a week ago – two weeks ago – but it was a foggy mess. Everything had been blurred into one huge dark lump and it sat there festering at the back of his mind.

There were no nightmares. There was nothing. Just a big empty space where once at least monster had dwelt, but now just a frightening darkness – sometimes as he awoke he thought he could hear the beating of wings, maybe part – the last dregs of a dream forgotten as soon as his mind woke up, but it felt too real. It seemed familiar and threatening, but it was only there for a few seconds and was almost immediately gone again.

Today he woke up as usual with Ardal laying behind him. Today there were no arms. Ardal was already awake and sitting up looking down at Spencer.

"You don't look well." He said as Reid turned over to look at him. "They are taking too much of you Spencer. I don't like where this is going."

Spencer swung his legs over the side of the bed and was greeted by a thumping headache. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward putting his head in his hands. "I'll be OK." But his voice was shaking.

"I've seen this happen before."

Spencer felt a comforting hand start to gently rub his bony back. "Seen what?"

Ardal moved so he was kneeling on the bed behind Reid and kissed him gently on the back of the neck. "You – you've changed in just the few days we've known each other. I don't like it Spencer."

"You encouraged me to do this." He gestured to the mess on the floor. "And now you are moaning at me for it?"

"I didn't know you would - I don't know – go to such extremes, I suppose."

Reid stood up and looked around the room. "You think this is me? You think I did this?" He started kicking the remnants of another night of drugs and debauchery across the room. "This isn't me! I wouldn't do this – I couldn't do this!" He was shouting now and picking things up to throw.

"Hey – calm down. I wasn't having a go at you. I was just saying to take it slower."

He spun on Ardal. "Take it slower? I'm not taking it at all. Don't you listen? Can't you hear me say this isn't me?"

A deep frown spread over the other mans' brow. "OK Spencer, I can hear you."

Reid sat down on his own bed and resumed his head in hands sitting position. "You can hear me, but are you listening? I mean really listening to what I am saying?"

All he got back in reply was a shrug and then. "Well they called us ten minutes or so ago. They want you first."

Reid looked up at Ardal. He knew what this meant. The same as the past two days. He looked over the floor and found a pair of boxer shorts which he slid into and then walked over to the mirror on the floor. He picked it up and absent mindedly licked his fingers and ran it over the last remnants of powder on the surface.

Ardal understood. Anything to take the edge off the pain. Reid dropped the mirror back onto the floor again and with his heart thumping he stood against the wall next to the door to wait his turn.

"I'll see you later then." Ardal's voice was already coming from down a long deep tunnel. Spencer looked over at him and nodded.

"Yes. Later."

He stood and stared off into space until the door opened. Ardal was given something to eat. He would need energy. Spencer was taken by the arm and lead out. He wouldn't need to be doing much today. Just take it and rest and take some more. He looked down at his hands and saw how his once nice nails were now broken and chewed. A good reflection on how he was feeling inside.

It was a smallish sized room they took him to. This one was different. It was white. Plain white. Nothing else in it. Cameras set into the walls and red blinking lights in the corners. They pushed him into the room and told him to wait.

And he did. He stood in his light blue and green striped boxers with his arms tightly around him and his head looking at his feet. Spencer took deep breaths. He had been here before and they took great delight in using him in here. When the door swung open again and two men in black skin tight suits and masks walked in Reid still didn't look up. One of them held a club and the other a length of rope with a knot in the end.

The lights dimmed very slightly. Spencer assumed to take the glare off the walls – and they started to circle him. Still he just stood. He knew what they were going to do and he knew what was expected. He glanced over at the booted feet and he closed his eyes and sighed.

Hit number one took him across the small of his back. He made a small noise from deep inside and took half a step forwards to keep his balance just as the club caught him across the ear. This time as step to the side as his head began to spin and he unfolded his arms wanting to defend himself put knowing that wasn't what they wanted.

The crack under the chin from the club was the one which took him off his feet. It was with such force that he didn't have time to use his hands or arms to break the fall. His lungs forced out a cry of pain as first his back and then his head made hard contact with the floor. For second or two he lay there doing nothing. He had to get up again. They would want him to get up. Slowly he moved over onto his stomach and then onto his hands and knees. He could see the splat of blood on the floor from the back of his head and a trickle which he assumed was from his ear. Gradually but as fast as his spinning head would let him he got to his feet in a crouching position and then stood. He turned a slow half circle so that he was facing the same way again and waited.

A boot in the groin – a fist in the face – and as he went down again the boots continued they assault on his back and ribs.

He could feel that he had been kicked over so he had his back to the wall and as he opened his eyes he could see a lovely smear of blood over the floor where he had been booted to. The strange thing was that although he could feel it. He could feel his jaw cracking and his teeth loosening and he could feel the ribs snapping and his fingers being crushed – none of it actually hurt as such. It was just a sensation – and eventually it would go away. Eventually they would leave him alone and let him lay here and heal.

And they did leave him…taking deep breaths wrapping his arms around his bruised chest and waited for the next bit. He could tell when they stopped the filming because the lights came on too brightly. He squeezed his eyes closed and just concentrated on being somewhere else…anywhere else. He got wafts of the smells of the forest and cloth and blood. Always blood. His head thumped in time to his heart and he tucked his head in and pulled his knees up and just lay and waited.

-o-o-o-

Yet another tape.

She picked it up and slid the disc into the computer. This was different. This wasn't what the others had been. She sat and watched it for a while. It was the back of two guys….and they were very obviously shooting up. There was something about it which was very unsettling. For a couple of minutes she watched the two guys who seemed to be wearing bathrobes or something. As one of them started to slump forwards the other put his hand on the back of his robe and pulled it down at the back. Garcia just sat watching – not knowing what was going to happen next.

The guys back was painfully thin and covered in light marks and bruises. She bit on her bottom lip as the other took him by the shoulder and tipped him back onto the bed.

It was a split second. That was all. A very fleeting glance of a face before it was off screen again. Garcia froze. Carefully step by step she clicked rewind. She could feel tears building up in her eyes.

"Please let me be wrong." She muttered under her breath.

Her hands were shaking when she hit speed dial.

"Sir, can you come to the bunker. I have something I need to show you."

By the time Hotch arrived the tears were flowing freely.

"Garcia?" He stood behind her. "What's wrong?"

"I think I found Reid." She pressed a button and the screen in front of her showed two men. One half laying back and the other leaning for wards. Garcia zoomed in on the face of the one leaning back.

"Oh god." Hotch whispered. "And we still don't have a location?" He sat down on a chair next to Garcia.

"Sir I have done everything I can think of! They are not your average porn people. They are far from stupid. I can't get a location. I cant even get close to a location." She sighed. "You need to see it all."

She moved the video on to show the beginning again. The two of them putting the tubing around their arms. The needles - the slumping and the pulling down of the gown. Garcia froze the picture again.

"Sir." She looked over at Hotch who was staring blankly at the screen. "Sir – the thing is this – I know that back."

Hotch blinked and wiped his hands on the legs of his trousers. "What do you mean?" Hotch also knew that back. He had seen it in the showers. Reid didn't know he had seen. He had watched silently as the tall skinny agent soaped himself down and stood under the hot water. He knew every muscle and bone and mark Reid had on his body. And that was him.

"Well the other recordings, you can't see faces, but I recognise that back. The shape of it. The way the – well the way it's so bony – I had no idea it was Reid!"

Hotch was looking from Garcia and back to the screen. "How many? What sort of recordings?"

But Penelope was in full out sobbing mode now.

"Pull yourself together Garcia – this is one of our agents. What else have you seen with him in it?"

She looked up at Hotch. "I think almost from the beginning sir. Whippings and beatings and sex…..and drugs sir."

"Show me."

"Sir?"

"Now….I need to see everything."

"But sir…."

"How could you have missed this for so long?!" Hotch was losing his normal calm front. "It's your job to spot these things."

"I've never seen him naked!" and another burst of tears. "How was I to even begin to guess it was him?"

"You should have known Garcia. You just should have known." He muttered more to himself than to her.

-o-o-o-

Today was the day.

He sat up and stretched and wiped his hands over his head. The bone was hard and the hair growing well. He pulled a few maggots out of his hair and slipped them without thinking into his mouth. He chewed lazily and looked around the shed.

He walked with caution. Still the back of his heel was giving him problems and this – what he was going to do would have to be done with a slight bit of planning. He scratched at his head again and then tucked his hair behind his ears. He ran a finger over the still purple coloured line over his stomach. Eventually it would go or at least fade, but for now it was good reminder of how pissed off he was with these people.

There would be no messing around here. It would have to be quick and clean. He could have fun once it was safe. He picked up a few useful bits off the floor.

He had a lovely toothy smile on his face as he tipped his head back and started to howl.

Floyd waited. They were predictable. The door swung open and the flashlight shone over the tarpaulin. He stepped forward and pulled it back. There was a pile of old bits of wood and blankets under it. Floyd watched Pa stare at it for a while. He could _almost_ hear his brain ticking over.

"You looking for me?" Two steps in. One hand on a shoulder the other in his hair. A snap and Pa was on the floor. He pulled him out of the way of the door and turned off the flashlight. He moved the shotgun out of the way and stood back and waited. It wouldn't be long before the next one came out to see what was taking Pa so long.

He didn't have to wait too long.

Kelly walked over. He could tell it was him by the way he dragged his feet. A lazy brain and lazy feet to match. He readied the bit of cord around each of his hands and again couldn't help but smile.

One foot through the door and then the next. A half turn to see Pa laying on the floor was all Floyd needed. The cord was around Kelly's neck and pulling him back out of the doorway and into the shadows of the shed. Floyd saw as he put hands up to his neck trying to release the cord slowly cutting in…slowly letting the scum's blood out. He felt him quiver and shake against him as he pulled harder and the arterial spray hit Floyd in the face and went up the wall behind him. He felt the body get heavy and it felt good. Floyd felt a lightness in his heart as he let go and watched him slump to the floor.

Again he pulled him out of the way and made sure the gun was discarded.

He didn't have to be so careful now. Now he could play. Floyd flexed his ankle and cursed that it was actually hurting him and stepped back waiting.

Ten full minutes. Longer than he would have thought before Bo walked in through the shed door.

"What in the name of……."

Floyd stepped forward. "The name is Floyd. If you were wondering. If you had ever bothered to ask."

Bo swallowed. "Look man, this wasn't my fault."

"I was there remember? When my brains got shot out?"

"Yeah but…"

"And you dragged me back here and tied me up….wasn't your fault." Floyd rubbed at the end of his nose. "Well I'm sure as hell sorry about that Bo but you're going to have to pay for someone else's crime. I got fucked over…and when you thought I was dead you screwed me."

"Oh for…………No that wasn't me."

"I don't give a flying fuck if it was you or not. You and these other two scum, you dirty inbreeds you are the same. I don't distinguish between on or the other…"

"No you…you don't understand mister."

Floyd took a painful step forward. "Exactly what don't I understand Bo?" He put a hand out and touched him on the chest. "Tell me…come on – it might save your miserable life."

"It wasn't me!"

The expression Floyd pulled could have been seen as 'I'm sorry.' But Floyd didn't know what that word meant, so it was probably just a mistake. With one hand on the man's chest and one now on his shoulder he pushed his hand through flesh and fat and muscle and bone and anything else that got in its way until he reached his heart. It was still beating when Floyd ripped it from his chest. He held it up for Bo too see as he let go of him and let him fall to the floor.

He stood for a while just looking at it and then smiled.

"I did good. I did the right thing." He had to work fast before they started to get cold. He worked on Kelly first kneeling down next to him he ripped into his chest and tore open his rib cage. He did this in a way he loved the best. He smiled and dived in head first ripping out the heart with his teeth. He sat and sucked at it for a while and then turned to Pa.

"I have plans for you." Again he removed the heart first and lapped at the contents which dripped and ran down Floyd's arms. He then flipped him over onto his back and gave him what Reid had been giving Ardal all week.

It was late in the night by the time Floyd was sitting again surrounded by ripped up bodies. He had promised that Pa was going to be the first ….and he was….

Raw heart was always one of Floyd's favourites. The livers went down well too. Slowly he ate his way through the tender bits of Pa and his two sons.

The shotgun found its self a new home.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18 Suicide by Proxy

Chapter 18

_Better to die, and sleep  
The never-waking sleep, than linger on  
And dare to live when the soul's life is gone. _

_- __Sophocles_

Suicide by Proxy

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Floyd is.

* * *

She rode the bike for as far as it could take her, but now the forest path had deteriorated into just a rutted animal track. She pushed the bike behind a tree and covered it over with some branches to break up the lines a bit more. Highly unlikely anyone would come down here and find it, but she didn't want to take the chance.

Emily held a bottle of water in her hand and had her cap on pulled down low. Her jacket was undone and her legs filthy. She squinted into the dankness of the forest and took in deep breath and started to walk.

She was close. She could tell she was close and something had changed – but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. The pull was just a great, that hadn't altered in the slightest. It was – the headache maybe. Her headache was finally gone, and though her mind was still confused she was able to start putting up her little walls again. They were low and not very well made, but they were gradually getting higher and stronger.

The sun was beginning to get low in the sky when she reached the clearing. There was something about this place. Something special…she looked around for wind chimes, but that wasn't what it was. She exhaled a breath of calm. The very last person she wanted to meet now was Taki. She walked to the middle of the clearing and looked around. Something had happened here. She could feel it crawling over her skin and creeping over her brain slowly she walked over to a tree. She could see it quite clearly now….someone had been shot. A lot o blood, bone, tissue – though mostly eaten away now by insects there was still clear signs that something very nasty had happened here.

As she crouched to look further she pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit up. It wasn't until she pulled the smoke into her lungs that a smile spread over her face.

"That's why you can't smoke. Someone got the better of you." She prodded at the bone with her finger. "Take the top of your head off did they? So where are you now? You didn't get up and walk away….so whoever did this to you took you with them. Oh Floyd! This really is too funny." She stood up again and glanced around her. "Come on then….you called me here. Where are you?"

She walked in a small circle a bit of bone still in her hand. A twitch of a smile as she slipped it into her pocket and walked off again.

"I'm close. I know." A swig of the water and she dropped the last of her smoke onto the ground and put it out with the heel of her boot.

It was about another half hour before she could see the light through the trees. The sun was almost down and so she stood and just watched for a while. It was a steady light. Not from a flashlight…and not from a fire.

Now she walked more carefully. The pull was almost at its peek. She had arrived. Floyd was here somewhere. Now all she had to do was find him.

Gradually a small house came into view.

Rough made from local supplies by the looks of it. Lights were on at the windows, and the front door was wide open. She didn't want to go to the door at night with no back up and so she just stood and watched for a little while. She could see a faint glow coming from a small outbuilding. Probably a flashlight or low powered electricity supply she couldn't tell from where she was.

Slowly she made her way around the tree line until she was standing opposite the outbuilding. Carefully she walked forwards. Some how she didn't think she was in danger. Something about this felt safe. The bottle of water in her left hand and her right resting on her stomach she walked to the doorway.

All she could see at first was blood.

Up the walls, pooling on the floor, covering everything. The smell was one of the most repulsive she had ever some across. The stench of a fresh kill. It was just about possible to make out that this carnage was once human. The information was slowly sinking in when the movement in the shadows made her water bottle drop from her hand.

"Oh my good god – what have you done?! What are you doing!?" Her head span and she thought that she was going to pass out as the horror of what she was looking at sunk in.

"It's OK Emily." Floyd wiped his face on his forearm.

"Alright!? What in – Oh god. Please no." She turned and started to run. She needed to run. She had to get away. What the hell had she been thinking. Suddenly it all became all too clear.

She was running through mud. Her feet wouldn't move. Her eyes wouldn't focus. All she could see was a monster eating something and she needed to get that image as far away from her as she could. She could hear someone crying and wondered for the briefest of whiles if it was herself. A hard hand on her shoulder stopped the noise as she let out a little yelp.

"I can explain." And the hot fetid breath was on the back of her neck.

"No." She wanted to say more but she needed to vomit. Emily leaned forward and heaved as her stomach twisted and her mind screamed.

"I didn't plan on you seeing that."

The sounds of gagging.

"Emily – I can explain."

A shake of the head. "Don't touch me!" and more heaving and vomiting.

Floyd walked around in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Look at me."

"I said don't touch me! What in the name of whatever do you think you are? You have ruined my life, you have destroyed Reid's and what – whatever it was you were doing in there is not what normal people do Floyd! I don't care what you explanations are. What you were doing…. Back there."

"They shot me!"

"And that gives you cause to do that!?" She was looking at Floyd in the eyes.

"Yes! Actually yes it does! Don't you defend yourself?"

"Not by eating those who wrong me! No I don't!"

"Oh miss fucking perfect!"

It was a punch. A quite hard uppercut that Emily delivered to the under side of Floyd's chin. She watched him stumble backwards and fall down with a grimace to his face. The look of surprise on Prentiss face matched the one of anger on Flanders.

"Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. I came here because of something you did to me. I smoked cigarettes for you. I read the bible for you! What the hell are you doing?"

She watched as Floyd slowly rolled onto his front and crawled away.

"Get up and explain!"

"Darling – I am trying to. You pack a mean punch." Floyd could feel his boot filling with blood as the new skin of the back of his heel ripped open and the newly repaired tendon snapped. He wanted to kill something. He wanted to scream in frustration, but he bit on his bottom lip an made his way to something he could pull himself up on.

Emily watched. She could see there was something wrong.

"What's wrong?" Sudden concern. Another trick?

"Nothing is wrong. Why would there be something wrong?"

"Reid has gone missing." She blurted it out. Didn't know how else to broach the subject.

She got a nod back. Emily watched Floyd sit back down again and pull his boot off. She could see he was bleeding but after what she had see in that shed she really didn't care anymore.

"Can you find him?"

"Why would I want to?" He was inspecting the damage.

"I thought….."

"Well you thought wrong." snapped back.

Emily started pacing. "Look – you pulled me here somehow. I don't know how, but you did. What for? What do you want from me?"

Floyd looked over at Prentiss. "From you? I want nothing." picking at something on the back of his heel.

"Then why this?" Open hand gesture. "Why did you pull me here – why my hair – why get me to smoke?"

"Oh – That – that was just an example of how I can control people and how I can make you do exactly what I want when I want you to do it."

"This was just…………"

"Flexing my muscles at you Emily."

She started to walk towards him. "Why? Why me?"

"Because you were an easy catch."

Now she was close enough to smell him properly it made her want to be sick. "You need to come back with me and help to find Reid."

"You're not going to arrest me?"

"I would sooner wash you. You stink."

"Yes – you know what happens to someone when they get their brains blown out? They start to rot. The body begins to break down, and usually you piss yourself. I stink and you want me to help you find Reid. Let me think about it Emily." He slid his foot back into his boot.

"What's wrong with your foot?" She watched as he tried to put weight on it again.

A sigh. "It's not healing. Did you bring transport?"

She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. "I had to leave it back there a bit."

"Then maybe a shoulder to lean on until we get there?"

She didn't want to but she moved closer. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

A small smirk. "Because Spencer is the only thing I have ever loved." He put his arm around her shoulder and slowly the two of them walked away. Somehow the bodies in the shed didn't matter anymore. The fact that Floyd had been eating them didn't matter anymore, and the strange smell emanating from Floyd seemed to have changed in Emily's mind from blood and death to a deep heavy musk.

-o-o-o-

They went through them together locked in Garcia's bunker. Hotch tried not to freak out when he saw what had been happening. He tried to stay the same leader that he needed to be. He needed to be for Penelope.

Bit by bit they found pieces and together stared at the images.

"Are you sure that's him sir?"

A slow nod. He knew exactly what Reid looked like naked behind wet glass. He was finding it to see why Garcia hadn't noticed. "It's him." he was afraid to say too much. He didn't want her mind to go to the same places his was at. "I've shared a room with him, I know what he looks like topless." The words stuck in the air and he knew how wrong they sounded and Garcia's hand stalled over the mouse for a fraction of a second but that was all. She moved it to her coffee cup and took a deep drink back on it – but she didn't comment.

"Sir, even had I known it was Reid, we still don't know where he is."

Hotch looked at the tech sitting next to him. That wasn't the point. He needed to know everything. Before they find him he needed an idea of what they were going to rescue.

"I realise that. Any news on the location of the bike Prentiss bought?"

"Nothing. No way to track it except by visuals sir, and there have been no reports. You think she has gone to find Reid?"

The computer pinged to let her know a new one was there to see.

She clicked on the button and the screen lit up. This time there was no mistake.

"Oh my good god." Garcia went to turn it off again. The big white room and Reid head down standing in the middle. This time there was no mistaking it. It was too clear.

"Garcia – go. I will watch."

"Sir?"

"Just go." He sounded firm. He sounded almost too calm. Garcia looked at the team leader and almost expected to see the cracks showing. She stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll go and get you a drink."

Hotch didn't respond. He just stared at the image on the screen. Once she had left he unfroze it and watched as Reid was battered by two men in masks. This so far to Hotch was the most worrying of them all. He wasn't restrained and he didn't defend himself, he just stood and took it with hardly a sound. There was also the very alarming sight of seeing Reid's face so clearly. He had lost his fight, he had lost whatever it was which had appealed to these people in the first place. He had given up, and now they broadcast his face, and he knew from previous conversations with Garcia that once the face had been seen you didn't see much of that person again.

When it finished he got up and left the room. Rossi. He needed to find Rossi and they needed to locate Prentiss…

-o-o-o-

Ardal wasn't back when he was dragged into his room and dropped onto his bed. A hoodie and a pair of sweat pants were dropped on the floor next to the bed.

"The boss thinks you've earned these."

Someone else left a glass of milk and a plate of cheese and ham. They left without another word and let Spencer curl up on his bed and try to shut the world out. He didn't know how long it was before Ardal walked back in. His hair was wet and his body shiny from oils. Reid turned and looked at him, and for the first time it made me feel angry.

"Did you have fun?" His voice sounded quiet and a bit slurred.

Ardal looked at the clothing on the floor and raised an eyebrow. "I was working."

"But was it fun?" Reid sat up.

"You know what goes on. I don't need to answer that." He reached out and picked up a bit of cheese. "How was your day?"

Spencer rolled off the bed and stood up. "Oh you know – the same old same. They beat me half to death…let me get my breath back then whip me. I thought they would be bored of it by now." He avoided Ardal's hands reaching for him and walked to the basin.

"What's wrong?"

Spencer could sense Ardal was standing behind him. He hadn't touched him. He seemed to know when he didn't want to be touched. It was one of the things Spencer was beginning to think maybe he might love about him. He wasn't pushy. He cared. Someone cared and now that someone would leave. They all do. He had let his defences down again. After Gideon he had promised he wouldn't and then Floyd and now this and Reid could feel it all crumbling under his fingers.

He picked up a razor blade off the small shelf and held it carefully between his fingers. As he turned Ardal stepped back but said nothing. He leaned forwards and took the mirror off the wall and walked back to sit next to Reid on the bed. Again being careful not to touch him he placed the mirror on Spencer's lap.

"Oh I don't need that. I just want to show you something."

He left the mirror there though and just pushed up the sleeve of his robe.

"Spencer? What the hell are you doing?"

"Just watch."

He sliced across his wrist so deep with the blade that he could feel it scraping the bone. He pulled the blade out and dropped the bloody bit of metal onto the mirror.

"NO! Spencer!" Ardal was on his feet but Reid hushed him.

"It's ok. Look." He held up his arm for Ardal to see. "It's not bleeding. It's healing."

The slap Reid got across his face was a bit of a surprise. He hadn't been expecting it, but again it didn't hurt. It was just a sensation.

"I don't know what sort of mean trick that was Spencer, but you scared the hell out of me!"

"Yes? Well imagine this Ardal. Imagine being so low and feeling so vile and repulsive and so useless that there is no point in life. Have you ever been there?"

Ardal knelt on the floor in front of Reid and looked up at him….again the curls had escaped the tie holding his hair back and all Spencer could see was something that made his toes curl with desire.

"Yes – I've been there."

"Well imagine being in that place and finally realising that the only thing left is to kill yourself – but hey you can't! You go through all of those emotions – you say what you need to say to whoever might be listening and you try to explain to yourself the reasons why you are doing it. You reach that final point. No going back – and you can't do it. You can't do it because for some very odd reason you heal. You can't make yourself bleed. You can't overdose on drugs, you are stuck in this miserable stinking existence and the only thing you care for is making love to someone else."

Now Ardal's hands reached out again. They took the mirror and blade away and a hand rested one on each side of Spencer's face. "I wasn't making love. I was fucking them for food and a roof over my head. I am a whore Spencer, nothing more. I do this to keep me in food and drugs. I feel absolutely nothing for those people. What ever made you think that?"

"When it is us……….."

"No – never….not for the cameras Spencer. That is work. Alone here together just the two of us then that's different – but by the looks of what is on the floor here they are moving you up anyway."

"Moving me up?"

Ardal got up and sat next to Spencer. This time closer so their thighs touched. "They will use you for private entertainment. You will get better food and clothes to wear. They like you. That's good. They will look after you."

Spencer lay back again on the bed. The damage to his wrist was a faint white line. As he turned over and curled up with his pillow he felt Ardal lay down behind him. Simple comfort. The feel of warm breath on the back of his neck and the touch of flesh against flesh. Nothing more.

-o-o-o-

They had not been out of the freeway for long when she felt something was wrong. The sudden movement behind her and the sensation that Floyd was sliding sideways forced her to quickly pull over.

Floyd was grateful of this action as all he wanted to do was lay and hold his arm and scream.

"Shit shit shit!"

Was all he managed to say as he rolled off the bike onto the grass. Emily turned to see the blood. Too much blood. Gushing squirting arterial spray.

"Oh my god." She was off the bike and at his side. "What on earth happened?"

"Spontaneous wrist slicing." He growled from between gritted teeth. "I'll be alright. Give me a minute."

Emily wanted to help but he had rolled onto his front holding his arm tightly under him. "Go away." He muttered. He hated to let this woman see this side of him. He needed to take back what he had given Reid. What the hell was he playing at?

Prentiss stood back from him and looked up and down the road. She was lost for something to do at this point. When a car slowed and pulled over and a window wound down a fraction she was not any less bothered.

"You have a problem?" A young guy in an expensive car.

"Er – my friend hurt his arm…I don't suppose you have a cell phone do you?" She looked back at Floyd howling and rolling on the grass. She really didn't think there was much he could do to stop her.

The phone was passed out of the gap in the car window and Emily smiled kindly. "Thank you."

A number from memory.

"We are on the freeway. I have Flanders. We are on our way back." She flipped it closed again and passed it back. "Thank you. I think we'll be alright from here."

As she watched the car move off she noted that the howling noises had stopped. Slowly she turned to see Floyd laying very still in the blood soaked grass.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19 Talk

Chapter 19

Talk

_And it will fall out as in a complication of diseases, that by applying a remedy to one sore, you will provoke another; and that which removes the one ill symptom produces others: -__Sir Thomas More_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

"Floyd?"

Emily just stood and watched for a little while. Why had he stopped moving? Slowly she walked forward taking in the amount of blood around the still form on the grass. He was still on his front and still had his hands under him.

"Floyd!"

Crouching down now and touching his shoulder.

A deep intake of breath from Emily as she noted the lack of movement from his shoulders.

"Floyd. Oh no – oh no!" She pushed him over onto his back and stared down at the white empty face looking back at her. His eyes were open but unfocused. The front of him was just a puddle of blood. She moved quickly now by ripping the bottom off her vest and wrapping it tightly around his arm above where most of the blood seemed to have come from. She then grabbed his shoulders and tried to pull him off the grass and onto the gravel at the side of the road. She needed to flag down a car somehow but didn't want to leave him. She dropped his shoulders onto the ground and placed her head on his chest. A very faint sound but she wasn't sure if it was his hear or just the sounds of death.

Shaking him didn't seem to do much. She needed to do CPR – and knowing the chances of that working were so slim she wanted to scream. It was an eternity. A life time that Emily sat on the road side astride Floyd trying to get his heart to start and trying to get him to breathe. A car pulled over and someone got out.

"You ok?"

She glanced up quickly to see a woman in her fifties. "I need an ambulance. I think he's dead!"

The woman pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and made the calls and stood watching for a while. "Let me help….What can I do?"

"His wrist – something sliced through his wrist." And the smell of blood was up her nose again and gagging and sticking at the back of her throat. "He can't die. Oh god please don't die on me Floyd. Not after all this….not now!"

The woman pulled off her Tshirt – she was wearing a sport's bra under it….she took Floyd's hand and felt how cold his fingers were and saw how he wasn't bleeding and looked over at Emily. She said nothing. She wrapped his wrist tightly in the Tshirt and put pressure on it. Anything to help – she would never forgive herself if she didn't do all she could.

"Where are they? I need the ambulance! Breathe for me – please breathe!" and she was kneeling at his side doing chest compressions and breathing into his dirty filthy blood smeared mouth and her lips pressed against his and they were cold and unmoving.

-o-o-o-

He could see he was on the grass and he could see Emily was moving towards him.

Floyd was for a while confused. That was until things began to dim and go dark.

For a small while there was a glimmer of a light somewhere but he couldn't moved he just sort of hung in limbo and watched it. He thought he should have been able to feel Emily's hands on him but he couldn't.

He wondered why he had stopped breathing and made an effort to start again, but he suddenly became aware of a pain. A deep inside of him pain.

Floyd could feel at last. He could feel the pain inside and he could feel grass under his feet. He opened his eyes and looked down. His boots were gone. A frown on his face now as he looked around him. Many people of all ages shapes sizes and colours walked down towards a river.

He put a hand on his chest. Where he could feel soft hands touching him but it was a ghostly feeling. The hands weren't there. It was just a memory. Slowly he began to walk along with the others. No one spoke. Some had been crying. Some were smiling. Most were elderly.

Floyd couldn't work out why he suddenly felt so heavy. His arms too tired to move his feet too tired to walk. He stopped again and let the people carry on walking by him. No one touched him but some stopped to look. As he sunk down to his knees unable to move any closer to the river everyone was making for someone grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back onto the ground.

-o-o-o-

The ambulance crew didn't look very hopeful. They moved Emily out of the way and the other lady moved back too as they swarmed over the man covered in blood. They intubated him and put things on his chest to listen.

For Emily it was a relief to finally see Floyd's chest moving again, but it was a short lived relief. They called '200' and 'clear' and as everyone moved out of contact she watched his back arch and his shoulders leave the gravel and then fall back down again. The tube down his throat had air squished down it and they listened again.

More numbers called more shouts of 'clear' and Emily watched in shocked silent horror as the man who seemed to survive anything lay dying at the side of the road.

Again the arching of the back and needles going into his arm and another being prepared.

"He's lost too much blood."

She heard them say.

"Well top him up again." She thought to herself knowing full well that wasn't how it worked and if Floyd died they had lost Spencer too. She walked over to the woman who was standing holding her blood soaked Tshirt to her chest.

"I'm sorry." She said to Emily. "You were together?"

Emily nodded. "I was wondering if I could use your phone. I need to call my boss."

-o-o-o-

He looked around him and saw faces of people in white.

"You need to decide what to do." One of them said in a sad voice.

They looked down at him. "I don't know what you mean. Decide what?"

His voice sounded strange – as though it was coming from a thousand miles away – or had been caught in the wind and blown away before he could say the words properly.

"Well you can come with us down to the river, or you can take back some of what you gave Spencer."

And the fist bolt of pain ripped through him.

He wanted to scream now but there was no air in his lungs to force the sound out with.

Stinging sensations swept up his arms and to his brain as he felt his lungs suddenly inflate again.

"I can't take it back. He needs it."

"He will kill you. Take some back Floyd. Go on. Save yourself."

Another bolt of electricity passed through him. He felt his back leave the grass and then thump hard back down again.

"You are running out of time. You need to decide what to do."

Another voice now spoke to him. "It's you or him Floyd. Decide."

And another. "Come on Floyd – don't give up – please don't give up." It was Emily.

-o-o-o-

"We need to call." One of the paramedics said as he stood.

"You can't!" Emily pushed the man out of the way. "He can't be dead!"

"We're sorry miss. There is just too much blood loss."

"NO! He will pull through….he will be ok – he's always ok!" And she was on him shaking him by the shoulders and screaming in his face. "Stop messing around…we need you to find Reid!"

They carefully pulled Emily away from him. She watched numbly as the tube was removed and the monitors taken away. Someone was writing something down on a bit of paper…someone else entering something on a small hand held computer.

Prentiss could feel everything spinning around her head. They lifted him onto a gurney from the ambulance and pulled the straps across him. The blanket was laid across his middle and one end pulled down to cover his boots and the other end to cover his face.

Emily sank to the ground as she looked without blinking at the scene unfolding in front of her eyes. She saw them tuck the blanket in around him and it was this final act which finally caused her to lean forwards from where she was kneeling in the bloodied grass and throw up.

-o-o-o-

"I've decided."

They nodded and stepped back

"A shame Floyd. You were so close." The voices were whispers now and the grass became hard.

"But either way I cause him pain."

There was no answer.

-o-o-o-

They thought it was the convulsion that did it. They had just pulled the gurney up onto the wheels and it started. They quickly pulled the blanket back and watched with shocked pale faces as the man they had called TOD on tipped his head back and screamed as though a thousand demons were ripping out of him.

His back arched under the straps and quickly he was lowered back down again.

From where she knelt on the grass she could hear his desperate rattling gasps for breath and in the strange half light half darkness of the traffic rushing by and the lights from the emergency vehicles she watched Floyd pull himself back a bit. She leapt up and ran to his side.

"I knew you could do it." As the convulsion subsided and more drips and monitors were attached she wiped a stray bit of hair off his face and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Thank you."

And just barely a reply. "I think I just pissed myself again."

-o-o-o-

He woke up suddenly. He had a strange dream about laying on the grass somewhere warm and friendly. Spencer could feel Ardal behind him holding him close and then he could feel something else. The bed was wet. He looked down and saw a slowly spreading redness appear. At first he just looked at it not quite understanding what it was and it was around then that the pain hit.

His back suddenly stiffened and he threw his head back smacking Ardal hard on the side of the face.

Spencer's brain couldn't take in quite what was going on. He knew he was in pain – the most dreadful screaming sort of pain any person could ever be in and still be alive. He could see red. Everything was red and he knew people were holding him and saying things to him but he was totally unable to respond in any way. Something was wrong. What had happened? Where had all this pain suddenly come from?

They had hold of his hands. Someone was shouting at him, but he could only hear his heart racing so hard in his chest that he thought they should be able to see it trying to escape through his rib cage. Others now holding his legs and cool hands on his face. Ardal's hands and Ardal's worried voice.

Spencer had no idea how long it lasted. He gagged and choked and couldn't breathe and then the searing deadly pain across his chest and up his neck and into his brain.

And the same words over and over again.

'sorry babes.'

Thumping in his mind.

And he wanted to scream back that he didn't know what 'sorry' meant but they were dragging him from the room and Ardal's hands were gone and all he could feel was the roughness of these other people.

Ardal stood in the suddenly very quiet room.

Obviously it was a nightmare, but he had never seen anything like it before. He had seen nightmares – sure he had – he had seen Spencer's but this was like he was possessed. Like his mind had suddenly snapped. He looked down at the bed and saw the sweaty patch Spencer left behind. He bent down and took in the scent and then just knelt on the floor.

The end. They wouldn't keep him now. Not if he was going to be unpredictable. He ran his hands over the bed where they had been laying so peacefully not so long ago. Well peaceful for him – he wasn't so sure about the stability of Spencer's mind anymore. Slowly he had changed. Slowly he had grown to love him more and now this. This sweat stain on the bed and the bloodied razor blade was all that was left.

Ardal spent the rest of that night listening to the screams echoing through the hallways of this home of his and his head resting on the only thing left he had of Reid's. A soiled bit of bed linen.

-o-o-o-

She wasn't allowed in the ambulance with them. She stood at the side of the road with the strange woman in a bra and stared at the flashing lights taking him away.

"Well what in hell's name just happened?" The woman asked.

Emily turned to her. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself. I am Agent Emily Prentiss and to be very honest with you ma'm I have no idea what just happened. I thought he was dead." And she could feel as those weak walls she had built get soggy and collapse big hot tears begin to run down her dirty face.

"Agent? Like you're a Fed? Was he a criminal?"

Emily turned to the woman again. "Yes a Federal Agent." A swipe away of the tears on her face. "No he is a witness I suppose." She had to call Hotch. She had to tell him what was going on. Emily tried to keep her voice calm. "Do you think I could use your phone one more time?"

A smile and it was handed to her. Emily wiped her bloodied hands on the front of her ripped vest and smiled a thank you.

She pressed the numbers slowly trying to find time to get her own head around what had happened before explaining it all to Hotch. She ended up just telling him the name of the hospital they had taken Flanders to and wondering if it was wise to leave him there with the poor people, but on the other hand she really didn't think he was going to be doing much. He had died. He had been dead for long enough for them to clear up the debris and …………

Yes she would go to the hospital now and she would see them there.

Emily handed the phone back. "Thank you so much. You have been a wonderful help." Emily said quietly.

The woman had put her blood stained Tshirt back on again. "I would offer you a lift but you know…your bike and all."

Emily put a kind hand on the woman's arm. "You have been too kind already. Thank you again."

She put her hand out to shake. "Katherine Halls." She said and then walked quietly back to her car and for the third time that evening she watched a vehicle disappear.

-o-o-o-

When Floyd opened his eyes and he felt able to move his head he was overjoyed to see Rossi sitting next to his bed looking at him. He licked his lips but said nothing and moved his head again so that he was staring at the ceiling. He could feel that on hand was strapped to the bed and the other had bandages and some sort of brace covering his lower arm and hand.

"You had us worried for a bit there." Rossi stated.

Floyd didn't answer.

"Care to explain what is going on?"

"Water please." The question ignored.

Rossi rose and picked up a beaker with a straw in it and walked to the bed. "Prentiss thought we'd lost you."

He sipped at the water and looked at Dave. "I'm not that easy to get rid of."

"You nearly took your hand off. They don't know if you will get full movement back in it. And your leg – the cut tendon – that is going to be a problem for you too."

Floyd pulled a pissed off face and looked back at the ceiling. "I feel fine. I assume you don't have Spencer back yet?"

"And I assume you are going to tell us where he is?"

"I don't know where he is. I can track him for you. I can't give you an address." A thought. "How long have I been here?"

Rossi sat back down again. "Long enough for extensive surgery on your wrist and foot."

"Ah no – oh shit. Look – I need to do something in quiet – you know….so I need to you to stop talking for a bit."

He had been here hours. He had only meant to snatch a small tag off Reid for a few minutes, just long enough to get him over the little bump – and now Reid was without full protection and once again he had performed a royal fuck up.

"I can hear you breathing…I really do need total silence."

Rossi stood. "I will get a paper to read and a coffee. Don't go anywhere now will you. I will be right outside." He walked to Floyd's bed. "I don't know you as well as the other's do and I know you pull crazy stunts on them, and I know you have messed with Prentiss but I am willing to give you a fair chance. Don't let me down. He tapped Floyd on the arm and turned to walk away.

"Always knew you were different Rossi." He heard as he pulled open the big white door to leave.

He lay back head on the pillow and closed his eyes. "Right you bastards. I need to sort something out with you. I need to talk."

When Rossi returned fifteen minutes later Floyd was sleeping fitfully. The blood on his wrist soaking through the bandages.

-o-o-o-

"I don't know what you want me to say." Emily was pacing. Hotch was watching her.

"I need you to explain everything. You disobeyed my direct order Prentiss."

"I can't explain – it's a fog – I don't understand what was going on."

"You understood enough to get money from your account and to find where Flanders was."

She nodded. "But it was like that wasn't me. I don't know how to explain something I don't even understand." She ran her hands over her head. "Sir do you really think I would do this from choice?"

Hotch shook his head. "We have all had our own problems since the last case involving Flanders. He is a blight Prentiss."

She stopped pacing and turned to look at Hotch. "A blight? He wasn't there Sir I really don't think he had any involvement in it. I don't know what it was…a small breakdown? I don't know! I wish I did."

"I need you to see someone about it Prentiss. You have to talk this all through with a professional before I can allow you to come back to work. I need to be sure nothing like this will ever happen again."

She bit on her bottom lip. "I was hoping I could come with you to find Reid." Her dark eyes met Hotch's.

He didn't show any feeling on his face – he kept it hard so that he could keep it under control. "I'm sorry Prentiss that is out of the question. You are on leave until I know you are medically fit enough to return."

She turned and left the room without another word.

Hotch walked to the window and placed the palms of his hands onto the glass. He needed Reid back. He needed to know he was there in the bullpen in the mornings. He needed to be able to see his smile in the mornings and see that awkward wave of his. He wanted to walk behind him and watch him. He needed to near him on the jet and smell his soap and shampoo. He needed Reid in his life so desperately it made his stomach hurt knowing he could never be his.

Tonight he had a date with Rosie. She was nice and intelligent and fun to be with. But she didn't have Reid's body.

* * *


	20. Chapter 20 A Place Inbetween

Chapter 20

A Place In-between 

_God is cruel. Sometimes he makes you live: - __Stephen King _

**A/N: I have had a VERY bad day today….for this reason this chapter might in places seem a tad odd…very sorry if it is confusing. I had to get it out of my system. SLIGHT SLASH WARNING**

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

They rushed him back down the surgery. All the work they had done which had seemed so straight forwards the first time was now far more complicated. They couldn't understand how the micro surgery had just disintegrated the way it had – almost like the first time round the injury was trying to heal its self as they stitched. This time was different. They clamped and sucked up blood and filled him with fluids to try to keep enough blood in his system which as hard as they attempted to fix seemed to be collapsing.

They thought to amputate rather than lose the patient, but the surgeons battled on trying as Flanders body went into spasms and fits as it tried to cope with what was happening to it. Not that which should. The anaesthetist was having problems keeping things stable his end.

The doctors shouted orders at each other and stuck more needles in his arm as once again his heart stopped.

-o-o-o-

There again – closer to the river this time. Not the same people walking around him. From here he could hear the river. From here he could smell the damp earth around its edges. From here he could see fish jumping in colours too bright to be real. Everything too bright to be real. Laying again on the damp grass with no boots and his fingers playing with the grass which was a bit too long. He could see someone had stopped and was looking down at him. He looked back and blinked.

"Decisions to be made?"

He sighed and sat up. She sat on the grass next to him. A woman in her late ages. Long grey hair hanging down her back and a flowing yellow dress.

"Want to talk about it?"

He licked him lips and looked at her pale blue eyes. "Not really."

"I might be able to help you decide."

"There is no decision to be made really. Either way – whatever I do now I fucked up."

She smiled at him. "Well yes you are a fuck up Floyd, but you can attempt to fix it." She put a hand on his knee as he sat cross legged looking down at the river.

"I can't fix it. It's gone too far to fix." His eyes flitted back to the river. "Where are they all going?"

"You need to pull yourself out of this self pitying state Floyd and think what has to be done. You need to get your Spencer away from that place and you need to take the Agents to him."

"I know that." His voice was a bit snappy. "But I can't fix the damage to myself and keep him safe at the same time."

"Have you ever thought that the surgeons can fix the damage? You don't need what you have given to Spencer. Not really." Her hand squeezed on his knee.

"I'm dying."

"Well Floyd that really isn't an option for you is it? What is the point in your pathetic self sacrifice if it doesn't help Spencer? When you go, once you cross that river, and you will if you don't start fighting this then he will lose what you gave him anyway. If you die so does he – so where is the point Floyd?"

"Then I would have failed anyway. I will be back where I started."

She removed her hand an nodded. "So what are you going to do? Sit here on the grass and watch them cross over the river, or are you going to get up off your dirty perverted arse as walk back up the hill?"

He looked at her for a minute. Tried to reach in and look into her soul. But there didn't seem to be anything there. He looked behind him at the direction the people were coming from. He looked up at the hill.

"Why me? Why pick on me?"

"Because Floyd, you aren't like these are you?" She gestured at the people walking by. "They will walk over and they will be home. Floyd – you will walk over and be home too, for the shortest of whiles, until you are pitched back down again. You might have a chance to stop that happening, but it's getting late. It's getting dark and once it is dark your options are closed. Make up your mind Floyd. Save him and yourself now by fighting, or cross over and hope that they don't notice that your pathetic stinking vile form has entered their peaceful territories."

"Fighting." He moved onto his knees watching the slowing stream of people walking towards him.

"I know things generally come easy to you – but you started this – go back up there and put a stop to it. Fix it."

He ran his fingers through his hair and tucked it behind his ears.

"You did good though." A hand on his shoulder. "Go now before it's too dark."

Floyd stood up and turned back to look at the river and the deep dark forest on the other side. He sighed and closed his eyes taking in the sweet scent of the water and listening to the splashing of the too bright – too large – fish.

-o-o-o-

He had calmed down. Whatever it was he had taken had left their star a sweaty drooling mess. The shaking and the fitting had stopped and now they had to decide what to do with him. There was talk of returning him to Ardal. See how things worked out, but now they were worried that the drugs had done this, though strangely their own doctors had found no traces of anything in his blood.

Reid just felt confused. Nothing was making any sense anymore.

He could hear Floyd's voice still in his head saying 'sorry' for something he couldn't understand. He was tempted to ask – to open himself up and call him and ask what happened and what he had done to deserve what he was so sorry about. Was all of this his fault?

They dragged him off the bed to see if he could stand. The room swam around his head and he could see funny swirling colours out of the corners of his eyes. He tried to reach out and touch them but they were just out of reach. Slowly they walked him out of the small room and down a corridor. Rooms on each side of him. So many rooms with small window's in the doors. So many people locked up and used and hurt by these people. He was just one of the many.

His room was empty when he arrived back. They pushed him into the room and closed the door behind him. He walked to the bed and flopped down on his back and pulled his knees up tightly towards him. All this time he had wanted to die and when it had finally come to it and he thought he was he realised that wasn't what it was he wanted. He wanted – no needed to get out of here. He wanted to be able to remember what it was like before he was here but it seemed like such a long time ago and in such a different world and lifetime that he couldn't quite get a fix on it anymore.

Spencer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What had Floyd done to him? and why was he suddenly sorry?

He thought again for a moment that he could feel grass under his fingers and smell damp earth, but as he drifted off into a deep dark sleep that was quickly replaced by a void with the sound of wings beating in the back ground.

-o-o-o-

He walked up the hill not in any great hurry to discover what was going to be at the top. The slope got steeper the further he walked. Firstly causing his feet to slide and occasionally having to put his hands down. Then it became necessary to hold on with his hands as the grass turned to earth and stones which slid away under him feet and forced him to his knees. He could see blood where he was cutting into his fingers on the sharp shards of shiny black stone and as the earth gave way to solid rock his feet grazed and cut on the too sharp rocks he was pulling himself up.

Floyd glanced back down the way he had come and could see nothing. A deep dark blackness had devoured everything. All that there was now was him alone hauling his scrawny arse up a near vertical cliff face – which was feeling cold. It was very cold and this once again was something that Floyd wasn't too used to. Pain and temperature changes were just not in his book of things to endure. Until now.

In some ways this deep coldness was good. It covered over the pain he was feeling in his feet and hands as the skin tore away on the rocks. He was sure he was leaving icy globules of blood and flesh behind him. And now the light was gone. There was nothing. He wasn't even able to see his hand in front of his face. A deep sigh. Was I worth it in the end? If he let go what would happen? He can't die more than once can he?

The next time he reached his hand up he felt a ledge. Was he nearly there? His arms ached and his breath felt like it was freezing in his lungs and as he pulled himself up scraping at the skin on his chest and abdomen as his waistcoat tore and ripped open – he realised that he wasn't actually breathing anymore.

Kneeling on the ledge he peered in front of him. A vast empty nothingness spread before him. Again he tried to take a breath, but there seemed to be no air up here. He tired to put his hands down in front of him but discovered there was nothing there either. Climbed all this way for nothing? Was that the message? There was nothing? It felt as though the ledge he hand climbed up to was getting narrower. He could feel it sliding away backwards across his shins.

'What now? What am I meant to do now?'

He knew that he couldn't go back the way he had come, and forwards was looking grim, and he wasn't going to be able to stay were he was. Options were slim and the pressure of needing to take a breath were increasing and he could feel a strange pain pulling across his chest as his heart pounded a few times and then stopped.

Floyd knew she had told him to go forwards and so carefully standing on his bleeding feet on the ledge which had become about three inches wide now he walked forwards into the void.

-o-o-o-

"OK he's back."

A sigh of relief over theatre and the surgeon started again on trying to reattach his hand back properly onto his wrist.

Things were just not going right with this person. He was twitching for a start. There had been horrified gasps as he started trying to make fists out of his hands and pull his knees up close when he was meant to be fully anesthetised. They were sure he would have started shouting and talking to them if he didn't have a tube stuffed down his throat. The whole time he was there he was bucking and twisting and making odd noises at them. Like some animal trying to escape somewhere from inside of him. They had never seen anyone react like this to anaesthetic before and a note was made on his medical records of his strange reaction.

"I'm done." Finally the words they were all waiting to hear. The three members of staff trying to hold the writing Flanders down onto the operation table finally let go. "I think we need to get him up to ICU and keep him strapped down. I don't like the look of this. I don't like the amount of blood loss here or the way his heart kept stopping. We might have a problem."

They answered silently knowing what the doctor in charge was talking about and how badly Flanders brain could have been damaged through all of this. It seemed to be the only logical explanation for what was going on. They re-strapped his arm and hand and then double checked that the foot was still strapped and held in place properly from the previous operation on the tendon. As it all seemed fine now they removed all his drips and tubes and took him quickly away and gave the charge of this peculiar person to the ward staff. Obviously the surgeon would be back to check later. Especially as it seemed to have gone so wrong before.

They left him sleeping and strapped to the bed.

-o-o-o-

He heard the door open and close gently and then nothing but the sound of quick breaths. He wanted to open his eyes and say 'hello' but he felt the pressure of someone sitting on the bed and touching his leg gently.

"Spencer?" Ardal's voice. "Are you alright? I have been worried sick."

Reid placed a hand over Ardal's and squeezed it slightly. "I've felt better." Now he felt his friend lay down behind him and run his hand down his back.

"Shit Spencer I thought I'd never seen you again. I've been out of my fucking mind!"

Spencer rolled onto his back and then his other side so that he was facing his friend. "I'm sorry. I really am sorry." He ran a thumb over Ardal's lips "I don't know what happened. Some sort of nightmare. I can't really remember except for seeing so much blood."

Ardal licked at Spencer's thumb. "There was no blood. Just you screaming the most god-awful noises I have ever heard. I thought you'd gone psycho on me." he pushed some or Reid's hair off his face so he could see him better. "You look so ill. Did they say what was going to happen?"

"They didn't say much at all. I'm ok. A bad dream is all." Reid ran a finger down the side of Ardal's face. "I'm sorry I scarred you. I would never hurt you, you know that don't you?"

As he said the words – words he had heard so many times himself in reality and in his nightmares he wanted to scream and cry and laugh at the same time.

"Let me make it up to you." Reid tried to keep his voice steady. "Roll over." A small hitch in his voice. Hopefully it went un-noticed. He kept his hand in contact with Ardal as he moved and rolled over. As he was wearing a pair of boxers Reid whilst kissing at the back of the sweaty neck of the man he loved pulled their garments down and out of the way. He placed one hand on the top of Ardal's head and pulled it back slightly and the other he place on his side slowly moving it down until he met the equally bony hip. Spencer ran his fingers around the hip bone in lazy circles as his kisses turned to nibbles and suckings and gentle and maybe not quite so gentle bites on Ardal's neck and shoulder.

For a brief moment Spencer had a strange urge to bite in and taste the juices running under that skin which smelt of old sex and other men. It made Reid's stomach knot tightly and his heart thump harder and his teeth to bit maybe a bit deeper.

Ardal moaned and pushed back seeking what he needed from Reid and Spencer gave it too him….unprepared he ripped his way into Ardal who howled and cried out and demanded more as Reid found that special place and moved his hand from his hip around to the front to give Ardal a hand with what he was already doing.

Having satisfied himself before Ardal he moved him onto his back.

Spencer had learned many tricks from Floyd. He had now a multitude of new tricks and techniques he could use to bring Ardal to a point of no return with the minimal of effort on his part but the ultimate in pleasure for the person he was working his mouth on.

When he moved back up the sweaty body of the man under him and their mouths joined Reid was sure had just given Ardal the best fuck and blow he had ever had.

He looked down at Ardal and smirked.

* * *


	21. Chapter 21 Recovery

Chapter 21

Recovery

**A/N: For my big sister Aggy**

_Sometimes, dead is bettah: - Jud Crandall, Pet Sematary_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

"I don't care if he is just out of surgery – I will see him now." Hotch flashed his badge at the hospital staff.

"Agent – uh – Hotchner, I really don't think you are aware of how sick Flanders is."

Hotch pushed a stray bit of hair off his face. "Believe me when I tell you that he is far sicker than you will ever realise. I will see him now."

The staff member in charge shook her head again. "He is sleeping. He has just come up from surgery again and to be honest we really don't know if he is going to recover fully."

"That's fine. I will just sit by his bed and wait. Where is he?"

"Agent Hotchner is this man dangerous? Do we need to guard him or ourselves?"

"He is a very important witness. You will let me see him now." His voice was getting harder and the words coming out sharper.

The nurse raised an eyebrow at him. "Please don't try to awaken him. He needs to recover in his own time. They lost him a few times on the table. How well he is going to heal from the massive blood loss is unknown."

Hotch nodded. "The room number please."

The nurse turned her back on him. "This way."

It wasn't what Hotch had expected. He had entered the room so full of anger that he thought he would probably have to be restrained and asked to leave, but seeing him like that was really enough to satisfy Hotch for now.

Flanders was restrained. Straps on both wrists and on his ankles. There was also one across his chest and pelvic area. He was laying completely motionless with his eyes closed and wearing dark blue hospital pyjamas. He had been washed. His hair was clean. The bandages and the brace holding his hand in place looked awkward and painful. He also had something strapped to his lower leg and foot keeping the lacerated ankle in place. There were drips and tubes passing both in and out of him and monitors stuck to his chest.

He was breathing deeply with a tube delivering oxygen across his face and to his nose. He didn't look like the person he had known. He didn't look like the murdering serial killer and likely cannibal Hotch knew he was. In fact Hotch thought he looked small and insignificant – delicate maybe and definitely pretty. An almost feminine face. He walked closer to him and scratched at his neck. They needed him. They needed him to find Reid but he could see now that they were going to have to wait.

At least an hour.

He hadn't realised that someone had joined him standing looking and also saying nothing. Rossi finally spoke. "We need to give him a chance to help us."

Aaron spoke without looking at Dave. "He is a murderer."

"And we need to find Reid and then we need to find out why."

Now Aaron turned to Rossi. "Why?"

"Why Flanders is what he is. I would like to do a paper on him. He interests me. I want to get to know him better."

Hotch turned back to look at the thing on the bed. "Interests you beyond getting him sent to trial? Be careful Dave – he has a way of twisting himself into peoples minds. Prentiss being his latest victim. Just be aware."

Rossi nodded. "Do we know how long he will be like this?"

A shake of the head from Hotch. "No – but I am happy to wait until he does. Every second he is sleeping is a second further from finding Reid. We need him up and with as soon as possible and yes I know that he has just come out of surgery Dave, but right now Reid is more important to me than if I upset the staff here by insisting on Flanders help. Every moment he is laying there……"

A hand rested on Hotch's arm. "Sit and wait then. I'll get you a coffee."

Silently Hotch went and sat on the chair near to the bed. He could hear a clock ticking on the wall and the heavy breathing of Floyd over the gentle bleeps of the heart monitor the other side of the bed. Hotch found himself staring at him. He didn't want to. He wanted to look at anything but the thing in the bed but his eyes were constantly drawn back to him and more and more questions filled his mind the longer he watched him for.

-o-o-o-

He could hear them talking. He could hear Hotch's breathing. Why couldn't they just leave him alone. He had done what was asked of him. He was here wasn't he? Not walking away as he could have done. Not back where he could have been and they still moan and niggle on at him. Never any rest. Never any peace from these people. Floyd knew Rossi would be back with coffee probably a newspaper – the man had a thing for news papers.

And so he watched swirling patterns in his mind and imagined what it would have been like to have been able to walk across that river.

The ice cold water on his feet and feeling the shiny pebbles beneath his toes and feeling that huge weight he carried around with him gone at last – well at least depleted enough to be able to move.

He thought of the smells of the forest and the sounds of the leaves and he needed it so much that he could feel a scream building up inside of him. He gave it up. His one chance he had been given in eons – he gave it up for Spencer.

Right in the back of his mind where he was sitting against a tree and smoking and feeling finally that he was at home – he could hear the disturbance of Rossi talking again to Hotch. He wouldn't stay. Rossi would go and leave Hotchner there – he knew him that well.

Floyd waited in his mind under the tree for the sound of the distant door to close and for the first rustlings of the news paper before he opened his eyes.

"I'm awake." He mumbled to the ceiling. He listened to the sound of the paper being folded and the rustling of Hotch changing position on the chair he was sitting on.

"Would you like some water?"

"If a smoke is out of the question." He turned his head to look at Hotch who was beginning to stand so he could reach the small cupboard with a beaker of water on it.

"Don't drink too much, it will make you sick." Hotch placed the straw in position so Floyd could sip up some liquid into his mouth.

He moved his head back again and pulled at the restraints. "They tied me down. Your orders?"

Aaron frowned. "No – you reacted strangely to the anaesthetic. You had some nasty seizures. The restraints are for your safety – not ours."

"I see and so you will be more than happy to release them."

"Flanders, I would like nothing more than to release them and remove you from this place but they are worried about damage done during your – episodes. They lost you a few times on the table. They considered amputation. You are fortunate to still be here. We need you. I don't like you Flanders and you would be the last person I would ask for help but you need to tell us where we can find Reid."

"I can't just 'tell' you. I need to be able to track him and that isn't going to happen if I am strapped to a bed." Floyd turned his head to look at Hotch again. "I should tell you that I am nor fortunate to be here. I chose this…I am here to help Reid. That's all. My only purpose. Undo the straps."

"They are monitoring you."

"I wish to discharge myself. Unless you are going to arrest me for something, in which case I wont be able to find Spencer for you and all of this – this – everything is pointless."

"Your heart kept stopping in surgery and you still haven't explained what happened to your wrist and foot."

Floyd wriggled his foot. "Someone sliced my tendon with a pocket knife…My wrist – I don't know. Don't remember much about it. I wish to discharge myself my heart is fine."

"They will want to check for brain damage."

"They will find a lot, but nothing to do with my heart. I wish to discharge myself."

"I heard you and as much as I need you on your feet and cooperating, I am unable to help you out. You need to be monitored properly. I need you alive." Hotch sat back down again.

"My nose itches. Agent Aaron Hotchner – I wish to be discharged. I need to find Spencer. Un-strap my arm so I can at least scratch myself. You say this is for my benefit? It doesn't feel very beneficial."

Again Hotch stood. "I should get someone to check up on you anyway." He avoided looking at Floyd again and turned to leave the room.

"Agent Aaron Hotchner – remember – I can't help Spencer if I am tied to a bed." He saw the slight shift in Hotch's shoulders but nothing was said back. Floyd stared at the ceiling again and waited. It wasn't long though. New voices. More than one.

"Ah you are awake. How are you feeling?"

Floyd looked at the doctor by his bed. "Like an elephant walked over me. But I will survive. I want to discharge myself."

"You are awake much sooner than we thought you would be."

"I want to discharge myself. Take the fucking straps off and let me go."

Ignored

"We need to do some simple tests on you. And I need to check up on your hand."

Floyd looked away. "Just undo the damned straps so I can go and do what I came back to do."

"We are very sorry that there are a lot of tests we would like to carry out first."

"Fuck them! I need to get out of here."

The doctor glanced over at Hotch who was standing near the door with Rossi.

"Can I at least look at your hand? I still don't know if the surgery will work. I would like you to stay here so if there are any more complications you are on site. We nearly lost you."

"Well you didn't. You did a fine job….check on it then – then discharge me."

The restraint on his left wrist was released and his arm placed so they could look at his fingers. Faces pulled. "I just need to see if you can feel this."

Floyd frowned. "Feel what?"

Was all the answer they needed really.

"I think you need more tests." And a tutting sound.

Floyd turned his head to look over at Rossi and Hotchner. "Tell them. I need to go."

Hotch was standing with his arms crossed watching what was going on.

"Sir." The doctor spoke. "You have had two very nasty surgeries done on you. I think it would be very foolish at this point to discharge yourself and you wont be walking on that foot for a while. Not unless you wish to cripple yourself."

"Tell them to get my papers – Rossi." Dave nodded at him and putting an arm on Hotch's left the room.

-o-o-o-

It seemed to take them forever to come to the decision to finally let him go. His own clothes were in a bin bag ready to throw away but he insisted on putting them back on.

He swore and cursed his foot brace which he eventually undid and put to one side so he could get his jeans on. He did however put it back on again afterwards. The doctors watched in dismay as he hobbled around with one arm held tightly to him in a sling and his foot being moved around in ways they considered worrisome.

"You shouldn't be doing that."

They kept saying. He ignored them.

"Who washed my hair?" Was about the only answer they got…and that was a question they didn't bother answering. He signed all papers needed to let him leave with a promise that if his fingers turned blue – or black – or fell off – he would be back. Probably to kill them, but he didn't add that.

They went down to the SUV with Floyd being half supported by Rossi. Floyd was a long way from impressed by this but he didn't want to mess up too much before he got there…he had a feeling he was going to have to hurt some people.

They stood in the parking lot. "I need to sit in the front. Cant possibly even begin to track from the back….too many smells." Rossi opened the door for him but Floyd just stood and rested his hands on the roof of the car. "He's not here. I mean in this town. We need to go to where you last saw him." Hotch nodded.

"I will tell Morgan to meet us there. It's a long drive. You might be better off in the back and trying to sleep."

Floyd slid onto the front passenger seat. "I can sleep here if I need. Did one of you get my pain killers?"

Rossi held up a bottle. "I have them…you're not due one yet – sit back and relax and try wriggling your fingers."

For Hotch they couldn't get there fast enough. All of his attention was on getting there as quickly and safely as they could. For Floyd it was a time to bitch and moan and nag and for Rossi it was a time to listen to the bitching and try to profile this strange person who not so long ago was dying on the surgeons table and now was moaning about every damned thing there was to moan about.

It's too hot – too windy – his foot hurt – his hand was in pain – he had a headache – his nose was bleeding – he needed to relieve himself – he was thirsty, hungry, bored, tired, itchy, sore – he didn't like the freeway – he didn't like the smell of the other traffic – he wanted to smoke – he wanted a drink – no a drink, not coffee – he was uncomfortable and needed to walk for a while.

"How much further? We've been on the same road for fucking hours." And a sigh.

"I told you it was a long way."

Another sigh. "Well I'm picking up nothing, just so as you know. I'm going to sleep. Someone recline this for me, I can't do shit with my hand like this."

Rossi leaned forward and cranked the seat back a bit. "I think sleeping would be good. Any luck with your fingers?"

Floyd looked down at the bluish coloured numb things sticking out of the end of the brace. "They are fine." He closed his eyes but he would be sleeping. He had slept enough in the past few days to take him through another lifetime. For now he rested and contemplated on the different ways he was going to have Reid when he got him alone. A funny twisting in his stomach at the thought of the smells and feels of that treasure of his. He watched the patterns behind his eyes and dreamed awake of all the pleasures of the flesh he was going to dip into.

Hotch was tired and though Dave had asked if he wanted to take over and drive Hotch wanted to do this. This way it felt as though he was doing something – he wouldn't be able to sit in the back and just relax the way Dave seemed to be, though really Aaron knew that Dave was thinking of the case of Reid and of Floyd and what actual help he was going to be.

When they pulled up at the side of the road Floyd turned his head and looked at Hotch. " A bit further."

"This is the last known location."

"Maybe, but he's not here now….a bit further. North. He's to the north and not on ground level. I need to get out and track properly if you want more."

Hotch nodded and looked over at his shoulder at Dave. "I'll call Morgan." Rossi said and got a nod from Hotch who opened the car door and moved around to the other side to help Floyd out. As he put his hand on the car door handle he got a nasty static shock and snapped his hand back. Floyd opened the door with his good hand and unsnapped the seat restraint. Rossi was talking to Morgan on the phone and Hotch helped Floyd get out of the car.

His foot hurt like it was on fire but he bit down on his bottom lip and smiled. "I need to kneel."

Aaron helped him to move down so he could put his fingers to the surface of the sidewalk. He watched a frown cross his face and watched Floyd look around and repeat the action.

"He's up. Not ground level and not basement. He's up high somewhere." Floyd looked up and over to the north of the large town or small city. "To the north." He carefully stood up again and manoeuvred back into the car. Rossi had finished on the phone.

"Morgan is meeting us here in ten. Do we have a location?"

"He's up high and to the north – is all I can tell you until we get closer."

"Does anyone need anything before we carry on?"

Shakes of heads from the other's who just wanted to get this done and get Reid out of wherever he was.

Floyd looked over at Hotch. "So – Agent Aaron Hotchner – I know you have some sort of idea what is going on – where he is – when are you going to tell me?"

Hotch held onto the steering wheel tightly. It gave his hands something to do even though they weren't moving. "It is on a needs to know basis Flanders and you don't need that information."

"It might help you know – to know what I am going to be facing when we go to get him." Floyd was fiddling with his very dark blue fingers and frowning at them.

"There is no - we – as far as you are concerned. You are getting us to the location. You are then going to sit and wait."

"That wasn't what I was led to believe." Floyd snapped back at him.

Hotch gripped even tighter. "Then you misunderstood. You are here to show us where he is. Flanders you are crippled. You are not coming in with us."

Flanders looked at Hotch and pushed the car door open again. "You know what? I will go alone. You want my help then it's one hundred percent…otherwise you can go screw yourself."

He pushed up and stood next to the car. Hotch got out of the other side and Dave out of the back. "Get back in the car. You are here to help find Reid."

"I'm not your sodding sniffer dog and I'm not a bloody cripple!" He took a very painful step forwards….the contraption on his foot rubbed and dug into his leg and it didn't seem to be doing much of a job of holding everything in place, but he was not going to be talked to like that.

Hotch walked around to him. "Get back in the car and stop your pathetic histrionics. I am tired of you and your games. We need you to find Reid. You are injured and a civilian. We cannot take you in with us. We have no idea what we are up against. We don't know how many of them there are. We are calling in SWAT and I do not want you in the middle of a gun fight not able to move."

Floyd moved slowly around and looked at Dave. "And you are backing him up I suppose. You bastards. I can't believe I fell for this."

Dave moved forwards and put and hand on Flanders good arm. "It wasn't a trick I thought you understood you were just here to guide us. We can't risk you getting killed in there."

"Oh like you care. It would make your bloody day to see me dead!"

Hotch grabbed him and swung him back around again. "Get in the car and stop moaning. We still need your help. Morgan is here now. We can go."

Floyd got back in the car but had no intention of sitting here waiting when they went in to do whatever it was they had to do. He opened the window as the cars drove slowly away….Rossi was in the other SUV with Morgan and Floyd was very pissed off.

"Are you going to tell me anything about this place…what do you know? What's been going on?"

"It's an internet porn organisation."

Floyd filled in the blanks for himself and Hotch didn't say more.

They drove slowly across traffic lights and around a corner and then slowly down a quieter side road. A big tower block stood in front of them.

"Top floor." Was all Floyd said.

"Of here?" Hotch pulled over.

"Of here – and I'm going in too."

"I know you are. I just hope you realise that I cannot be held responsible for your safety. If I think you are going to jeopardise this mission then you will be out of the way quicker than you can blink. Do we have an understanding?"

"It would seem."

"Good. Wait here for a minute – I need to discuss our plan with the others."

It was Rossi who finally came back to the car. "SWAT first. Then us. Put this on." He handed him a flak vest. "I don't care if you think you don't need it. You can't go with us unless you have it on. No arguments. Get out I'll help you with your arm."

A nod from Floyd. Not a happy face. His hand was completely dead but his arm hurt like hell and his foot he could hardly put on the floor. "Pain killers if that's OK with you." He said to Rossi.

And now they stood and waited.

They waited for what seemed an eternity before they were given the go ahead to follow and find Reid.

-o-o-o-

They heard gun fire.

Reid was alone with Ardal and the lights had been dimmed for night time. Reid pulled on his sweatpants and Ardal his boxers and the small robe thing. Spencer then pulled on his Tshirt.

"Just sit still. Don't move. We will be fine if we don't do anything." Spencer and Ardal sat on the bed their backs against the wall and arms tightly around each other – eyes staring at the door.

After the gunfire stopped they could hear screams and shouts and the occasional pop of a small firearm going off. Doors banging open and running of feet.

When their door finally opened it wasn't what Reid had expected. He thought he was going to see their boss with a gun to finish them off with. He was sure this was the end and the fear that they would kill Ardal and he would survive was making him want to be sick, and he was definitely beginning to shake. Ardal was holding tighter so when it was Hotch who walked in with Floyd at his side his mind wasn't sure what to make of it.

Ardal kept holding tight.

"Spence." Floyd walked painfully forward trying not to show the agony he was in on his face.

Reid pulled away from Ardal but turned to him to speak first. "It's OK….stay here."

He stood and walked over to Floyd. "Floyd."

"I missed you babes." He put his good hand out towards his prize.

"Well I didn't miss you. You left remember. You rejected me and you left. What are you doing here?"

A puzzled look on Floyd's face. "I brought them to you."

"Well did it occur to you that I didn't need your help? That I could have left whenever I wanted? Did that cross your twisted little mind?"

"Spence….what's wrong?"

"I don't want you Floyd. I don't want you in my life and I don't want you touching me so put that hand down the front of your trousers if you want I really don't care. I just know I have found someone I need to be with and that isn't you, and it will never be you, and my life will never include you."

Floyd reached out again and gently touched Spencer on the arm. "I would do anything for you – you know that."

A nod. "Well go away then and I told you not to touch me."

As Floyd tightened his grip Spencer pushed him back out of the way where he stumbled into Rossi.

"Hotch. You found me. How were the videos? Have fun watching – because I am sure you like watching me in the showers back at base."

Aaron's face blanched at the words. "Reid – come with us. We have you now."

Ardal was getting up now to stand at Reid's side. "We were happy. Why did you have to come and take it from us?" Ardal spoke to Aaron.

"This made you happy? You encouraged my agent to take drugs. Reid come with me."

"You will apologise to Ardal, Hotch. That was unfair."

"Reid he has been abusing you. He has been drugging you and sexually assaulting you. You will…………….."

Reid's fist met Hotchner's mouth.

It all happened so quickly that Rossi had little time to react to it. Reid was on Aaron – a head butt to his face followed by a knee to the groin and an uppercut to the chin. Spencer moved so fast and with such coordination that Aaron had no time to react. At the same time Ardal was on Floyd again a head butt and shouting abuse. There was little Floyd could do except stumble back further into Rossi who now stood out of the way to try to disentangle Hotch and Reid.

Aaron didn't want to hurt Reid. He knew something was wrong….maybe drugs…maybe – he wasn't sure what it was but this wasn't the Reid he knew and – and – needed back….

He tried to restrain him but some how Spencer got his arm and twisted it back behind him pulling him around so his back was to him. "Reid Stop!" He shouted just before and arm wrapped around his neck and Reid wasn't playing. This hurt – Hotch kicked back, but Spencer was out of the way before he could. He tried to take a breath as black stars swam across his vision. He had wanted to be with Reid so badly it had hurt and now this? His thought processes began to slow as he started to shake. One hand on the arm Reid had around his neck squeezing as hard as he could and the other he was trying in vain to elbow Spencer off him.

Ardal was on the floor kneeling over Floyd pummelling with his fists. The two clicks from the side arms came at almost the same time.

Rossi spoke. "Both of you. Stop."

Reid felt the cold of the gun pressing to the side of his head.

"Let him go Reid. Now."

As Spencer released Hotch who began to slump to the ground he looked to see Ardal being cuffed by Morgan.

"Back off Reid. Back right away."

Rossi moved in to Hotch who was gagging and gasping for air on his knees still not sure what had happened. He had come here to rescue him…He hadn't been expecting this.

He turned to look at Reid who was standing with his arms down at his side just staring at everyone.

"I was happy! For the first time in my life I was happy!" Spencer shouted into Hotch's face.

* * *


	22. Chapter 22 Sharing

Chapter 22

Sharing

_Floyd Flanders once said: - I don't share._

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Complete chaos.

That was the only way that Rossi could have described the situation.

Reid was sitting on the bed now leaning forwards with his elbows resting on his knees and his face behind his hands.

Morgan was escorting Ardal down the corridor towards some cops to take him away to be questioned.

Hotch was leaning on the wall of the small room bent forwards taking in painful breaths and wiping blood from his face.

Floyd sitting with his legs crossed: his face smeared with his own blood, slowly rocking back and forth banging his head on he wall behind him.

Rossi needed to talk to them all. Individually. Hotch could take care of himself and he didn't think that Floyd was going anywhere in a hurry and so it was Reid he approached.

He sat on the bed next to him, but didn't touch. "Reid – we need to leave."

Spencer turned to look at Rossi. "Well there is nothing here for me."

"Personal possessions?"

A shake of the head. "Nothing that means anything." He looked over at Hotch who was still leaning forward but watching Spencer closely. "Ardal didn't do anything wrong." He spoke quietly to Rossi. "Please don't let anything happen to him."

"They will want to talk to him…they will want to talk to you too. If he has done nothing wrong then nothing will happen to him. You are all victims Reid. We came here to help you. Floyd brought us here."

Spencer looked over at Floyd who was pulling himself to his feet again. Taking the weight on one foot only. He stayed leaning on the wall in the corridor which was facing the open door to Reid's room. Reid slowly got up and walked over to him.

"Floyd."

A nod.

"You were right. You were right about a lot. That's not the reason I fought you off me. That's not the reason I didn't want you near me."

Floyd stood unmoving just watching Reid. His good arm wrapped protectively around his bad.

"I've known for some time that I liked men. How could I not know? It was you I didn't want. It was purely personal. You disgust me. You make my skin crawl. The only reason you got from me what you wanted is because you drugged me. This.." Pointing back into the room. "Was fine. This was good. He is who I want. Floyd – I don't want you in my life and I don't want you near me. I don't want to have to smell you or feel your hands on me ever again. Are we straight on at least that – if nothing else."

Silence. But the jaw was clenched tightly.

Reid stepped back and turned to walk down the corridor in the direction everyone else had gone. He heard Floyd shouting behind him.

"I gave you everything Spence. I gave up everything for you."

Reid stopped and turned to look at him. "You shouldn't have bothered Floyd. I don't want anything you have to offer me."

He turned again and walked off down the corridor looking for where they took Ardal.

Morgan walked over to Hotch to see if he was alright. Hotch was far from alright though. Even though the physical wounds had been far more than he thought Reid was able to deliver the emotional pain was deep. He still couldn't work out quite what had happened. He had been worried out of his mind about Spencer and this was the result.

Rossi moved to where Floyd was standing. "Not what we thought was going to happen. No happy reunion." He could see Floyd was grinding his teeth in an effort not to explode. "I need to get you back to hospital. Your hand needs attention."

Floyd pulled himself out of the dark place he had been slipping into and looked at Rossi. "I don't need hospital."

"You still have no feeling in your hand. The surgery didn't work." Rossi was talking quietly.

Floyd swallowed and looked down at the very strange coloured fingers of his left hand. "Too late for that. It was too late when it happened. Too late for everything. I fucked up."

Rossi looked back at Hotch who was talking to Morgan about something quietly. Dave caught Hotch's eye and nodded. It was time for them to go and let the CSU get in here. Aaron tucked his shirt back in properly and wiped the blood off his face with a tissue from his pocket. The four of them moved slowly. Still trying to take in what had happened. They had no idea where Reid had gone to, though after watching the recordings for so long Hotch had a pretty good idea that he was looking for the only comfort he had been receiving over the time he had been here.

-o-o-o-

Spencer sat in the interview room…just to talk about what had happened to him while he was there. He mostly kept silent. There was no point in annotating the clips they had of him. He didn't want to go over it all again. He wanted to know that Ardal was alright. He wanted to go home. He wanted sleep but they needed blood tests and hair samples and urine samples and god only knew what else.

He knew why. He had been taking something. He had no idea what it was and they were going to find out. If there had been any chance of him keeping his job it was gone the moment they took that blood.

Reid wanted to blame Floyd for this. He wanted to be able to pass the buck but he wasn't sure how. Yes he had been with Prentiss looking for him, but it had been his own idea to go with Gert that night. Gert who had disappeared. No one had told him to do that. He had been over confident and stupid and for that reason he couldn't blame someone who wasn't even there.

-o-o-o-

Ardal wasn't so shy about telling all. There was no reason not to. He had been selling his body for sex since a very early age and couldn't actually remember a time when butt sex and blow jobs weren't part of his life. It just seemed the natural thing to do. You take drugs or drink and you have sex. He wasn't expecting to actually have feelings for Spencer though. This was the only thing he kept to himself. Yes Spencer had been willing and – no – he hadn't forced drugs of sex on him in any form. Why would he? He was having sex all day….wasn't night time a time to sleep – not a bus mans holiday. He was straight forward and honest about almost everything. Only a couple of things he kept to himself. The weird healing Spencer did, and the feelings. Those were either too personal or freaky to mention. He didn't want to end up in the loony bin over some parlour trick Spencer played with blades.

-o-o-o-

Hotch stood the other side of the mirror watching Reid and wondering if they had lost him forever. Morgan stood with him.

"He is going to need a lot of time." Morgan scratched at his neck. "I can't begin to wonder what he went through, but it looks like – I dunno man, but like he doesn't care."

"I would rather he was in hospital. Or at least going to stay with someone. He shouldn't be on his own." Hotch wanted to reach out and touch the glass but he kept his arms folded.

"He probably needs to be alone." Morgan said. "Not saying that is the right thing."

Both men fell into silence.

Hotch didn't know how he would cope without that face at work every day. These past months had been hellish enough but the idea that he was coming back to them was there and that was holding his sanity together. But now – what was going to happen now. Had Reid been broken by Ardal and the others beyond repair? And move so should he be putting any blame on Ardal in the first place?

-o-o-o-

Prentiss stood in front of the mirror in her apartment and sighed. He had been and had her hair cut in a more acceptable manner. It was short obviously but styled and feathered around to frame her face. She pushed it back out of the way. Too fussy. Too girly. She wet her hands under the cold water and then ran her fingers through her hair to get it more how she wanted. Still a million times better than the hacked up mess it was before. She glanced down at her cosmetics she had got ready to put on and prodded them around for a while with her fingers…she eventually just put on a bit of eyeliner and mascara. She didn't want to look painted and false. She wanted to look like who she really was now that her barriers had been destroyed.

She wasn't back to work yet. But psych evaluation time. She pulled on a pair of combat trousers and a black Tshirt then a suit jacket over the top and then went to look in the mirror again. A sigh. She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lit up.

"I'll be fine." She muttered to her self. "I am a profiler, I know how to work this to my advantage." She stubbed out what was left of the smoke and picked up a bottle of perfume and gave herself a liberal spaying of something expensive and heady. She had boots on to go with the trousers and that was it. No rings or jewellery or anything fancy. One final check on her teeth and she was gone…slipping a mint into her mouth as she locked up the apartment door.

She could do this. She might not be the same person she used to be on the outside, and things on the inside may have altered, but she felt for the better, but she could still do the job. Nothing had changed that.

Emily slipped into her car and closed the door.

Another sigh before she turned on the ignition and pulled out on her way to see the psychs.

-o-o-o-

They insisted this time that he stayed in the hospital. They thought probably that a lot of damage to his hand was permanent. It just wasn't doing what they had hoped. The tendon however was healing well, and though they couldn't promise he wouldn't have a limp they couldn't say he would. No guarantees. He was laying on the bed with his arm strapped to a contraption with needles and tubes and bits going in and out of his arm.

An infection.

Blood poisoning.

Breakdown of the tissue surrounding the wound.

The only good thing was that it had been a good clean cut. For Floyd it mean lay on the bed and keep still for the gods only knew how long or have his hand removed which right now he wasn't going to accept as an option. He still needed to take back what he had given Spencer, and though he was pissed off with him to the extreme he still had that funny knot in his stomach when the thought about him and he didn't want to cause him the pain he knew he would if he just took everything back again.

On the other hand – no pun intended – he had no intention of losing his hand. If it came to it – if this one he had here now was not ever going to work again then he would just have to take everything back and re-grow…because – re-growing something hurt like – well like – he didn't know – he'd never tried it with less than everything working.

"So tell me about yourself." Rossi was sitting on a chair next to the bed.

"What do you need to know?" A sigh as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Let's start with where you are from. Your parents. Where you were raised, went to school."

"Europe. We travelled. Gypsies. My parents – unknown – we were jointly raised. I had no formal schooling." Another sigh.

Rossi turned off the recorder he had on his lap and just stared at the man on the bed. "This isn't helpful."

Floyd turned to look at him. "What isn't helpful?"

"Your continual lying. If we are going to do this you do need to trust me and tell me the truth."

"That is the truth as far as I know it." He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and frowned at the profiler looking at him.

"You know who I am. You know what I do. I can spot a lie Floyd. If your background is not something you feel comfortable talking about now, let us start with something else."

Floyd raised an eyebrow…..someone who could catch him out….interesting. He was going to have to be more careful with this one. This one was special. This one was interesting. No underlying lust or wanting here. His mind not on the arse of the girl who just walk past. Just a profiler.

"I like butt sex." Floyd stated. "I don't mind telling you that."

Rossi turned the machine on again.

-o-o-o-

At last.

Alone.

Just himself.

He sat on his favourite chair and pulled his legs up tightly to himself. Somehow he managed to squeeze his frame into a tiny space and there he stayed. He didn't move for the rest of the day. He stared at the drapes and held tightly onto himself.

If he let go.

He would explode.

If he gave in to what he was feeling.

He would collapse in on him self.

Implode into a big nothing.

Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe that was the only way out now. Just slowly disintegrate. Unravel and see if there is anything left of who he was under this hard surface he had grown.

Not such a hard surface that he couldn't dig his fingernails into it, but there was no real pain there. Just a slight popping feeling as his nails broke the surface.

-o-o-o-

They sat on the couch and ate take away Indian food. She was laughing about a property she had tried to sell someone and failed miserably and Aaron was laughing too but down inside he was hurting so badly that he didn't think he would ever be able to recover.

"More wine?" Rosie asked him. She knew there was no work the next day. She knew something was wrong. "Or do you want to just tell me what is wrong. Was it something I did or said?"

Aaron turned to her. "No – no nothing you have done. I am sorry Rosie I am being rude. It's just – hard when you see people you love – work with – your friends hurt in the way I have. I am the team leader and I failed because I let my heart lead and not my brain." He picked up the glass for a top up.

"Well Aaron you know I am here if you need to talk about it…I wont pretend to understand everything." She re-filled his glass. "But I am always here. Well – not always, but you know what I mean."

Hotch nodded at her. "I have Jack next weekend. I was wondering if you would like to be here. To meet him." he pushed a bit of hair off hair face.

"I would love to." She put her hand over Aaron's. "I would be honoured."

-o-o-o-

Ardal sat in his bed sit.

He had earned enough money to get what he needed to keep his head in the place he wanted. Now all he had to do was to work out how to get his body into the person he wanted.

Never had he in all his life felt like this about someone. He wondered what Spencer was doing. Was he happy? Was he safe? Would he answer the phone if he called him?

He looked over at the notice board on the other side of the small room. 'Spencer' and then a list of numbers. That was all he had left of him now. He thought of the telephone outside in the hallway. He could afford to call him. He had change in his pocket and he wanted to call him so desperately.

"This first." He looked down at the mirror on his lap "He might not answer. I might need this afterwards. I need a clear head." Ardal pushed the drugs to one side and stood up. He had memorized that number. It hadn't been hard to do. Things like that came easily to him. Numbers. All those years calculating how much a blow job or a fuck will cost.

He double checked his pocket for change and walked out into the corridor.

The phone rang until the voicemail came on. He stood with his back against the wall and tears building up in his eyes at the sound of that voice.

"Oh Spencer – It's me – uh it's Ardal………"

A voice suddenly the other end stopped him.

He stood and listened and then spoke. "I miss you too. I was thinking – if you're not busy – maybe you would like to come over? I don't have transport – that is if you want to." He wiped his sweating forehead with the back of his hand and gave an address. "I'll wait for you." He put the receiver back down again and walked back to the room. Now he was glad he hadn't snorted. Now he could share.

* * *

**A/N: The end for now but, to be continued...**


End file.
