A/N: This is my first attempt at Criminal Minds fanfiction, so this might be a little ooc. Reid is a seriously hard character to write, so bear with me. I left the unsub vague on purpose because I'm not a psychologist, nor do I have any background in the subject, so to avoid glaring mistakes, I'm leaving it up to your imaginations. I did try to come up with an explanation, which I will post in a later chapter (if you want it now, just review or PM).

warning: this first chapter is a little dark, but it does get better after this.

disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, which is probably a good thing, as I'd get far too distracted with each character's background, and not on the cases.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1:

"This unsub is most likely a Caucasian man between 30 and 40 years old," Morgan said to the gathered members of the Annapolis PD.

"He probably suffered some kind of trauma, like the loss of a partner or child, perhaps both. He blames another man for this loss, which explains the overkill found on the male corpses," Reid said.

"This guy is all about control; he forces the husbands to rape their wives. When that no longer satisfied him, he started abducting complete strangers and repeating the pattern," Rossi added.

Prentiss took over. "There was a lot of overkill in the men, but the women only suffered a complete hysterectomy post mortem. They were killed fairly humanely by comparison, with blunt force trauma to the head. This tells us that he has a lot of rage, likely suppressed for a long time."

"He's most likely from a lower- to middleclass background," Hotch added. "This shouldn't be released to the media, the unsub might take more extreme measures. Thank you."

/*/

It was dark, Dr. Spencer Reid was fairly certain. The first thing he really noticed as his mind started to wake up, was that his head was throbbing. In the split second it took him to become aware of the sensation, though, he remembered what had happened and had already gone through several likely scenarios as to what had happened while he was unconscious. This was when he became aware of a second sensation. While his head hurt, it was cushioned on something fairly soft, as opposed to the rest of his body, which was sprawled on what he guessed was a concrete floor, and someone was running their fingers through his hair.

He cracked open an eye, but, as he suspected, he could barely make out anything in the semi-darkness. What he did see, though, puzzled him a little. He could see the underside of a delicate jaw, female, by the looks of it. Reid knew exactly where he was. Well, almost exactly. He knew he was in a basement, and he knew that he had been kidnapped.

According to the temporary profile he and his team had come up with, the unsub was a Caucasian male in his 30s to 40s, but he couldn't exclude that this woman was involved, so he kept quiet and closed his eyes again.

"Did you hear that?" She whispered, her hands stilling. Reid didn't respond.
She stayed still for a moment longer before resuming her movement. Reid thought it might be a nervous habit, maybe she was a mother, or at least a caretaker.

The woman sighed. "I'm getting paranoid, sitting here in the dark by myself," she whispered. "Well, except for you, of course, but since you're still out of commission..." she trailed off. It was more likely that she was talking to fill the silence and get rid of her nerves than actually trying to have a conversation with an unconscious person. As Reid thought that, he deduced that she was probably just another victim, and decided to 'wake up'.

He opened his eyes all the way – not that it helped much in the dim light – and sat up slowly. The woman scooted back, but didn't say a word while Reid turned around to face her, and catalogued her appearance. In the dim light, he could see that she was wearing a torn blouse that had once been white with some kind of beading at the top and jeans that looked worse for wear. Her hair was curly and dark. He'd guess brown, but he really couldn't tell.

She bit her lip and stared at him. "Are– are you okay?" she asked hesitantly. Reid felt the back of his head. He had a big bump, but he couldn't feel any blood. "Yeah, I think so," he replied, letting his gaze drift around the room.

"I'm… I'm Annabelle, but most people call me Belle…" she introduced.

"Spencer Reid," he replied, his gaze stuck to the tiny strip of light at the bottom of what had to be a door.

The woman – Annabelle – sighed. "It's no use, I've tried to open the door, but unless you can pick a lock with your bare hands… All I've got on me is 3 dollars and a grocery list." She scooted further back until she was leaning against the wall.

Reid studied the room for a moment longer before getting up and pacing the, admittedly small, room. "This unsub always takes couples, why deviate from that pattern?" he asked himself more than his companion.

"Maybe he's trying to play matchmaker?" she suggested, a nervous chuckle accompanying her words. He stared at her then, frowning.

"I was joking. You know, it's something people do when they're nervous and want to break some of the tension…" she said, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them.

"Aren't you afraid?" Reid asked curiously.

"Right this second? A bit. Don't worry, I'll start freaking out if I hear a noise or if that door opens," she joked faintly. "No one can stay frightened forever, it's too exhausting."

Reid looked at her with a frown. She was… strange, to say the least. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of a key turning in a lock.

"Here comes the panicking," Annabelle whispered, scooting as far back as she could. Reid stood up and moved to the side of the door, in an attempt to surprise the attacker. But as the door opened, no one stepped through.

Reid glanced at Annabelle, who shrugged and pushed herself up. Cautiously, he stepped into the doorway, sensing her right behind him. "Be quiet," he whispered, "and follow me."

Just as he stepped through the door, however, it slammed shut before Annabelle could follow him. He turned quickly, trying to find the handle only to realize that the door was remote controlled.

"Spencer?" Annabelle shouted from the other side of the door. "Are you there?"

She sounded seriously panicked. "I'm here, don't worry, I'll get you out, I promise!" he shouted back.

A sound behind him made him turn around. A silhouette was outlined against a bright light behind him. As Reid identified the noise as the cocking of a gun, he realized he had no other option than to hear this guy out. It might be his only way of saving Annabelle...

Spencer had been gone for a while and Annabelle was getting worried. What if he was dead already? What would happen to her? She shivered. The room was getting colder and she was losing hope. At least when Spencer was in the room she was able to keep her calm. Well, at least somewhat, considering...

Her head shot up as the door slid pen again, her heart starting to race. Almost instinctively, she started to retreat into the corner, trying to make herself smaller.

When Spencer appeared, unharmed, she almost launched herself at him in relief. He stumbled back a little in surprise, but quickly adjusted to hold her. "I'm so glad you're okay," she breathed, holding on to him tightly.

"I'm fine," he replied.

She hugged him for another moment, relishing in the moment of security, before she let him go and stepped back. "What did he want?"

Spencer looked uncomfortable. "He told me I had two choices... Neither of them are good," he replied, looking very serious.

Annabelle nodded. "Well, he is a serial killer... What were they?" Her heart was racing again, but with Spencer there and no sign of their captor, she was doing okay.

Spencer refused to look her in the eye. This wasn't going to be pretty. "He's a sexual sadist, but not usually a rapist himself..."

He was stalling, Annabelle knew, and that could never be good. "Stop it, Spencer, just tell me, I'm a big girl."

He paused, studying her face and setting his jaw. "Either he rapes you or I do," he replied flatly, but she could see the pain in his eyes.

Panic clawed at her heart as her breath left her. She turned to the wall and leaned her head against it. She had thought it'd be something like getting to choose who would die first or choosing between suicide and murder, but this? This was truly sick.

"I'd rather it'd be you," she whispered as tears stained her cheeks. Why did this have to happen to her? She turned to face him, but didn't bother to wipe away her tears. Let him see it, let him feel bad, a vicious part of her thought. It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair...

Annabelle took a deep breath, and noticed for the first time that there was more light in the room now, giving her an opportunity to study him. He looked a bit like a geek, what with his sweater vest and tie. His hair was a mess, but she couldn't tell if that was his usual look or because of the situation.

Pushing past the panic and fear, she stepped closer to him, her tears coming faster than ever. She pulled him into a hug as she started sobbing in earnest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept repeating in her ear. "I'm so sorry."

Gradually, Annabelle released her grip on him. Taking a step back, she reached for the edge of her shirt. Spencer looked pained, but didn't say a word as she pulled it off.
This was, without a doubt, the worst day of her life...

A/N: Review and let me know what you think! I'll try to update once a week.