The moment Aaron walked through that door, he knew they'd made a horrible mistake. The heavy, metal doors closed behind them, and they heard a lock fall into place, and then the horror began.

"Hotch? Rossi? Open the doors!" he heard Reid shout form the other side, and he felt panic welt up in him when he realised what was going on. This was the unsubs MO. He had cut them all off from Reid. He had separated them all from his next victim.

"Reid, get out of here! Go, go!" he shouted back, ignoring Morgan's and Prentiss's confused looks. How had he not seen this before? Reid was his type, he was his target all along! How could Reid not have seen it? But he knew the answer to that question; he was conscious of everything in the whole wide world except of himself. That was Aaron's job. It was supposed to be. He was supposed to be the one aware of Reid at all times. And yet this happened...

Aaron heard heavy footsteps through the door, and he clenched his fists.

"What is it, Hotch?" Prentiss janked him back, staring at his eyes, asking - no, willing him to talk.

"I'm his next victim." they heard Reid's soft voice reply for him, heard the shiver of his body. They heard the shiver in his mind. And the footsteps grew louder.

"Listen to me, Reid. Get out of here howeve-"

"Drop your gun, Dr. Spencer Reid." Aaron's words got stuck in his throat at the unsubs threatening tone, at his frightening presence even through the door separating them. "Or I'll shoot them through the door."

If they weren't in this situation, he was sure everyone would have laughed at Emily's expression. Aaron had never seen the stoic, brave agent this horrified. But they were here right now, and they heard Reid's .38 drop to the stone floor, and Aaron couldn't help his breath hitching. Morgan spit out enough curses for all of them, so Aaron refined from them and cloaked on his role, like he would a mantel piece.

'On the ground' he mouthed for all three to see. They complied slowly, quietly. Somehow, they all knew it was too late, Reid had already dropped his gun.

"It is over, Peter, there is no need to make this more ugly than it already is." they heard Reid speak through the door. Aaron closed his eyes when he heard Reid stress the word 'need'. There was no need, but there was want, they all knew. "Agent Jenifer Jareau is probably already conscious from the hit you gave her, it's been two to three hours already. She's most likely contacted the police station, they're on their way." they heard him continue.

"Shut up." More footsteps, and then the sound Aaron dreaded so much; sounds if struggle. A loud bang cut off Morgan's new string of curses. The door vibrated from the heavy weight of two bodies leaning against it, and Aaron was again, trying to come up with a plan.

Even when we're one the ground, we're still an easy target for him. And we can't shoot, we might hit Reid. and then frustrating thoughts of He most likely already knows all that.

Our only hope is that the struggle weakens the door enough for us to break through-

His thoughts were cut short when he heard the fight continue. They heard Reid continue his persuasions, they heard him profile, do his usual Reid thing, and try to talk the unsub out of doing anything rash and irrational. But Aaron knew it wouldn't work. This was neither rash, nor irrational, it wasn't the kind of unsub Reid usually took on. This was a sadistic psychopath who's only goal was to take down as many victims as possible before going down. There was no time for persuasion, no secure happy ending, so Aaron decided to do the only thing he knew to do in such a situation; take action.

He crawled towards Prentiss, and took a hairpin out of her hair, thanking the gods for her having one with her. He ignored more sounds coming from the other side, and gave the pin to Rossi.

"I don't know how to pick a lock."

"Prentiss?"

"Me neither."

"Morgan?"

"No."

Aaron denied his tired sigh, and turned back towards the door. "You know how." David encouraged him. He had no idea, how.

"What-No, stop it. You don't need to make this even harder for yourself. If you stop here, there's a 82.3% chance you won't get a death penalty. But I can't help you with assaulti- Stop!" They heard more shuffling, and a clank no one was willing to acknowledge or identify. Reid's voice sounded incoherent and faint. As if he was pressed to the ground. Aaron thought, panicking.

"You son of a bitch! If you touch him, I'm gonna-"

"Stop, Morgan, let me concentrate." He cut Morgan off. He was half ready to start screaming himself, but he needed to keep his head cool, he needed to do this, needed to learn how to do this in the few minutes he had left. Before it was too late. Morgans banging on the door wasn't helping.

"Calm yourself. We'll make this."

He was on the verge of tears.

"Please, don't- don't do this. You won't-" he half whispered towards the unsub. He had no more valid argumentations to use, nothing more to say that helped. He felt absolutely bare beneath the unsub, with his body as well as his mind. And he wasn't even naked yet.

"Shut up." the man on top of him replied again. Reid closed his mouth, he knew his last, and only real weapon wasn't going to work today, he had no ammunition left. Pleading didn't help, he knew, and the only thing he was left with to do was let the man continue undressing him harshly. The feeling was too familiar for him not to shake.

He wanted to close him eyes, to cut his connection with the world, but he knew he couldn't. He had yet to take in the unsub's every detail, the man's every move, to give them a clue, give them anything. This wasn't like the last time, he didn't know this man. He had no invincible shield of knowledge to protect himself. Yet he had to stay strong. He could do this. It wasn't as if it was the first time this happened. Reid knew how to do this, he knew how to steel himself.

Better me, that somebody else.

And yet...

"Reid, hold on. Hold on just a little longer." he heard Hotchner say to him, only a few inches parting them apart, yet it feeling like thousands and thousands of light years. As if I was Neptune, and he were Mercury, and this whole nightmare the Solar System.

"No, please... Please- I don't. I don't want this, not again, not again. Don't-" he shouted out weakly, brokenly. He couldn't do this again, he realised. He couldn't. He saw the unsub point his gun towards the door. He had to protect Hotch, not only because Hotch was there, on the other side of the door, comforting him while trying to learn how to pick a lock as fast as possible - which was a task with a very low succeeding rate, Reid knew-, but because Hotch was one of eight in a small circle of people Reid cared about, and he was trying so hard only for him. He had to protect them, all eight of them. Hotch, JJ, Morgan, Emily, Rossi, Garcia. Henry. His mother...

Reid grabbed the gun by it's barrel with his left hand, the only limb he was still in control of- the attacker had his right hand pressed against the floor with his much stronger left one, and he was sitting on his higher thighs with his sheen's pressing against Reid's sore ones, making him unable to do anything more than point the barrel of the gun just under him chin.

"Shoot me, not them. You wouldn't mind, right, would you?" he spat out in a suppressed, yet cold voice. He ignored his teammates' shouts. I wouldn't mind either, his sick mind thought. "We have several reports of some of the victims being sexually assaulted postmortem. You're a necrofiliac as well, you wouldn't mind me being dead, right? Shoot me, relieve yourself, and let them leave."

Reid couldn't believe his own voice. He had never, ever sounded so cold and detached while blurting out facts to other people. Facts and statements were his babies, his lovers, which would follow him to the end of his days, and he always told them with enthusiasm and joy, as fast as he could, so he could say as much as possible. This, this was new.

"Do it." he repeated. Do it, please, the twisted voice encouraged him.

"Not for you." the man replied in an even colder voice. They were on Neptune, the coldest of the eight planets. They both had become icy, Reid felt. The unsub pulled the gun out of his hand, and Reid felt the pain before he saw the barrel colliding with his temple. A million dark spots danced before his eyes, and he wasn't even aware of the loud groan he had made. He only ever heard the results of it- the desperate shouts from his desperate friends, Morgan's the loudest. He smiled in spite of himself.

"Now shut up. This is the last time I'm warning you. I want to hear you scream, not talk." And with that statement, the unsub threw the gun across the hallway, and grabbed his other wrist to pin it by his head. Spencer vaguely thought of trying to fight- struggle, really - his way towards the gun- the unsub was unarmed now- but dismissed the thought as he felt the man's hands release his wrists to travel lower and lower and...

He whined when he felt his pants being slid down his thighs to just above his ankles, his underwear following, and his now free hands immediately shot up to the crook of the unsub's neck, trying to find the right pressure point to immobilise the man. The world seemed to have turned itself against him completely, Spencer thought, as he felt only the thick material of the mans hoodie reaching to just under his jaw. He grabbed it hatefully, as he saw the man grin.

He turned his head away, all thoughts of staying aware forgotten, as he felt the man shifting between his legs. The dark spots still dancing before his eyes helped him lose himself in a world of numbers, as he felt his thighs being grabbed and his legs being lifted. His free hands he used to scratch all over the man until he finally gave in and found places on his shirt to hold onto for balance.

Two, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen, seventeen, nineteen, twenty-three, twenty-nine, thirty-one, thirty-seven, forty-one, forty-three, forty-seven, fifty-three, fifty-nine, sixty-one, sixty-seven, seventy-one, seventy-three, seventy-nine, eighty-three, eighty-nine, ninety-seven, one hundred and one, one hundred and three, one hundred and seven, one hundred and nine, one hundred and eleven, one hundred and thirteen-

"No, no, no, nononono... " he broke his own trail of thought, as he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled open. "Don't. No, no- plea-"

Smack.

"I told you to shut up!" And then excruciating pain. Through a haze of pain he could only register the fact that his wrist was turned at a wrong angle, and the blood painting the floor a deep red. His own scream sounded distant to himself, but it was enough to deafen out the voices of his teammates.

I am going to bleed out before he has a chance to finish what he started, he thought delightedly.

His attacker shifted, pushed his legs even higher, his thighs pressing against his chest so hard he was panting already, bending him almost in half, so that Reid thought his spine would snap. That's ridiculou-

Pressure against him. He was frozen in shock, fear, his mind playing tricks on him. Where is he? Who is there, doing this to him? Hankel, or Peter?

"No, no, no, pleaseplease- don't. I don't want this. I don't- H- Hotch, please, help- no-" he repeated again and again and again, until he received a slap he didn't really feel. He knew it was unfair of him. He knew he was hurting Hotch as well by asking him to help when he just couldn't. But Reid, he needed someone, something to hold onto, even if it was only an empty word.

Hotch, Hotch- Hotch!

The man leaned even farther forward, and to Reid's horror captured his lips with his own. Reid felt the unsub's tongue against his lips, and he pressed them together tighter than he ever remembered doing, for the sake of stopping the man as well as stopping his own reaction. He didn't want to vomit, not now, not here, not because of the pain, and not because of disgust.

Smack.

"Open your mouth, filthy boy! Or are you arrogant enough to think you could protect yourself? To think there was ever anything to protect? Dirty whore!"

Sinner, he heard Hankel's voice echo through his head, then he felt sin fill his body as the man pushed his tongue in his mouth.

"Don't listen to him, Reid! You motherfucker, I'm going to rip off your head! Get. Away. From. Him." he heard Morgan shout in a deadly voice, but the feeling of the unsub's voice washed away all other senses. It was too loud. Too much, too fast.

Sinner.

"Leviticus 20:13 KJV; If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them." he muttered quietly when the man finally freed his mouth, bored, or satisfied, or both.

"Pretty boy, scream for me."

The pressure increased again. He's playing games with me, Reid realised brokenly, and then he felt the first indications of giant pain. He felt the unsub move forward, he felt the tears finally grace his cheeks, the scream ready to leave his throat, felt his eyes widen with dull static, and-

"Hands over your head! Get away from him!"

"Hands over your head! Get away from him!" JJ shouted to the scene in front of her. She was trying, failing, not to look, not to be there, as the local officers pulled the struggling unsub from Reid. Reid, who didn't even look at her, who didn't even seem aware of any of them.

"Spence, Spence, it's alright. It's over." she finally pulled herself from her trans, and knelt down by his side. He pushed himself up, sitting against the wall, pulling at his sweater to cover himself, and-

"Oh, god! Get the paramedics. Quickly!" In a flash, her hand was gripping his wrist, stopping him, denying him from bleeding out. He shook a little, and she wondered who he saw when he looked at her then; A friend or a foe?

"Spence, Spence, stay with me!" she repeated bluntly as she saw his eyes dull a little. She ignored the voices behind her, she ignored her team, the unsub, everyone. Nobody was important right now, only Spencer. And he was slowly slipping away from her. "Hey, Hey! Stay awake! Spence? Spence!"

The ride to the hospital was the quietest they've ever had. It seemed like everyone was drowned in their own fears, in their nightmares, and no one was willing to share them with the other. They would become too real to handle if they were in the open, JJ felt. She didn't need to be a profiler to see the grief and guilt and fear haunt the faces of her friends.

"He is going to be alright." Prentiss said suddenly, and JJ found her respect for the agent rising even higher than before. Nobody else did dare to break the suffocating silence surrounding them, no one was ready to get a grip on themselves yet. JJ looked at her in admiration, and in some ways for reassurance.
Emily seemed to sense her pleadings and looked at her with serious, yet warm eyes, and JJ was sure she saw everyone relax a little, believe her. "He is going to be just fine."

Reid awoke to the sound of constant beeping- a heart machine, he realised slowly- and was relieved to find Emily and Morgan sitting close by, both dozing lightly in their chairs. He was grateful for their presence, yet he had first to sort somethings out before facing them again, so he forced himself to think through the haze of painkillers and pain.

What should he do now? How should he act? He was aware that someone, if not all, heard his little slip before, and he wasn't ready, wouldn't ever be ready, to tell them anything that-

"Reid." Hotch's voice broke him from his thoughts. He looked up just in time to see him walk from the doorway, and sit on the only unoccupied chair in the room. He was aware of Emily and Morgan slowly waking up from their slumber, but he couldn't get himself to look away from Hotch's steely gaze; he knew what was coming. "What did you mean when you said you didn't want that to happen to you again?"

"Nothing." Reid lied instantly, letting his gaze trail from his boss' angry eyes to the bandage covering his wrist, and then back up. He knew there was no chance that he would be able to hide anything anymore, and that he was very obvious, if not because of his nervous habbits while lying, then because before him sat a profiler, one who had years's worth of practice with dealing with Reid. But it wasn't like he was just going to let everyone know everything.

"Don't. Lie to me, Reid." Hotch's voice sounded strained, deadly, and Reid wondered if he would have grabbed him, or done something other psychical, was Reid not injured, and well.. in the condition he was in at that moment.

"I'm not lying to you, Hotch! I meant- no, nothing, I-"

"I will give you two choices, Reid. Either you talk to us, or a professional, or anbody, about this, and I will think about letting you go back to work- after enough absence leave- when I see you-re ready to work again. Or you won't, and I will see to it that you lose your job."

The silence following Hotch's speech, or rather, threats, was deafening, but Reid didn't have the strenght to think about how to get away with none of the stated choices while everyone else stared at him. He was too tired, and too drugged, to argue, or lie, or anything, really. But that wasn't surprising at all, he realised, Hotch purposefully chose a time when he wouldn't be able to outsmart them, to talk- threaten.

"I will give you until tomorrow morning to think about it. We will come see you around 11PM. Now, Prentiss, Morgan, let's go. There's no point in troubling the nurses, and Reid has some thinking to do, I believe." And with those words, Hotch stood from his chair, and walked out of the room, followed by a recluctant, and apologetic looking Prentiss.

No 'How are you?'? Or at least 'Get better'? I really messed up this time for him to be this angry.

"I- I can't believe you didn't tell us anything. That you don't trust us." Morgan's voice startled him. He was still in the room, hadn't moved an inch since Hotch came in, and he looked as if he had just been slapped, or rather, beaten.

"Of course I trust you! Nothing happened!" he denied to the world, and he was sure the two profilers standing just outside the room heard him. His eyes obviously told different than his mouth, for Morgan only looked more hurt by his words. For a reason he couldn't pinpoint, It made Reid uncontrolably furious. "What do you want from me, Morgan?!"

"I want you to tell me the truth! To talk to me, man! I'm your friend, I thought you knew that, Reid!"

"I know it, Morgan! Of course I do! But... but-" he broke himself off, his voice, his will, slowly losing it's intensity. Their shouts obviously stirred some of the hospital stuff, judging by the voice of Emily outside of his room trying to calm someone down, but Morgan's eyes demanded his attention again, and he found he didn't care about anyone else right now. "I'm sorry, Morgan, but I can't talk about it. I- I just, can't."

"It doesn't have to be me, it could-"

"No one, Morgan! I won't talk to anybody! There is nothing to tell!" he raised his now hoarse voice again, trying, forcing, Morgan to understand. He was going through an emotional rollercoaster, and his seatbelt wasn't properly attached. He would fall out, break. He needed Morgan to stop, he realised.

"There is! Of course there is! I know there is, because there was back then, when it happened to me. There always is. You just don't want to admit it to yourself. I understand, remember? But you have to tell-"

"-what? What do I have to tell exactly, Morgan? Tell someone how fucked up I am? Literally? How horrible it felt, how much it hurt? How scared I was when I realised you- no one was coming to save me from it? How, how horrible it is to get raped?! I think people know that fact already, Morgan!" he cut in angrily. Morgan watched him with mixed emotions, but Reid could recognise only two; worry and pity.

Worry and Pity. The two emotions Reid hated the most in human behaviour mixed together. Hate, he could handle. Love? Complicated, but possible, manageable. But worry, and pity? Those two made him feel like a horrible being, made him hate himself for worrying others, for being happy that people worried about him, for being pitiful enough for people to worry. For..

Morgan was still watching him carefully, when Reid retreated from his thoughts, and to Reid's distress, he was joined by both Emily and Hotch. Both had heard, both knew, both worried, and both pitied. He sighed tiredly, he didn't want to lose him job, he didn't want to lose them, and he didn't want to lose the hateful worry and pity he knew they would show him.

No use in dragging this on. Let's get it over and done with..

"I will talk. To a professional." he told Hotch, and was glad to see some of his anger subdue. First step towards freedom; please them, make them think they won. "But I want to start with work the moment I'm psychically healed. I don't want my life to be put on hold. That would just worsen my... condition. I want to work when I don't have therapy. To take my mind off things. It wouldn't make it worse. In fact, seventy-three percent-"

"Reid. Reid! We don't care about the statistic. I think we all here can agree that this isn't the usual-"

"Do you really want to leave me to my thoughts twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, with my IQ of 187?" he cut Morgan off, a little more heatedly than he felt. Second step; make them think you're ready to show your emotions, that you want and/or need help. And then he said, knowing it would hurt deep enough for him to buy some time: "I thought you'd understand, Morgan. Please."

"Alright, Reid." Hotch interfered, sensing the danger. "After you are discharged from the hospital, you will take one week absence leave, and then you can start working aga-"

"But, Hotch, I-"

"One week." Hotch repeated in a dangerously low voice, and Reid saw he wasn't too happy with being interrupted, so he closed his mouth. Please them. "People get months worth of Absence leave in such matters, a week is nothing. We will discuss your therapy schedule as soon as you're discharged."

"Yes, sir." he muttered obediently, and was pleased to see his tactics worked. Hotch lost the edge his voice carried before and he didn't look just as frightening.

"Reid?" Reid waited for Hotch to continue, and then he smiled faintly, as he did. "Get better."

"I will." he replied, then turned his head a little when he saw Morgan had something to say, kind of like a peace offering.

"I want you to know you can always talk to us. Even though we aren't professionals, we can still help."

"Thank you." he said to all three as he saw them nodding their heads approvingly.

"We should go. Reid needs some rest. God knows he will need as much as he can get before Garcia comes to visit." Hotch said finally, and left the room, a chuckling Morgan on his toes. Emily stayed behind just long enough to give Reid an encouraging smile- no pity or worry in her gaze, just strength and warmth- and to say a few words herself.

"If someone will be able to get over such a matter this fast, it will be you, genius boy."

Then she left, and Reid smiled softly. He knew he liked Emily this much for a reason.

That night, Reid let his mind wander.

The eerie silence of the hospital, broken only by the distant sound of water running somewhere in a farther ward, combined with the soft, greenish light shining dimly from the hall, calmed Reid, and let him think. He was evolving his plan, going through the rest of his steps, trying to come up with a distraction for his team.

Because there was one thing he was sure about; maybe he would have to confide in a therapist to some degree, but he would not let anyone else take part in it. It was his secret to keep, and he was set in his way, to keep it a secret. Forever.

A.N. So people, that's it! I'm kinda proud of it! :) It's the first part of a two-shot. Sequel will be up in a month or two, I'll decide when I see the reviews *wink* It will be called The dilaudid's spider web. Look it up, people :)

Here's a quick trailer thingy for the sequel to get you all going, and hopefully, reviewing :D

The Dilaudid's Spider Web;

-he dropped the sugar cube into his coffee absentmindedly. Tomorrow would be his first day at work after a two week absence leave, and his first therapy session. He would leave his sanctuary, would go from 'alone in his apartment' to 'crowded, busy BAU and prodding therapist'. Reid sighed tiredly.-

-JJ looked at him leaning over his desk, painfully aware of the horror he has been through, and of the fact that he was still just a boy, only ever a child in her eyes-

-he looked at the bottle lying seductively on his table, and at the syringe in his hand. It felt right, the syringe fitting into his hand like a newborn fitting into a mothers hands, yet he knew it was all a illusion, all just a trick. All just the dilaudid's spider web.-

-Morgan found his sitting in a washroom stall, looking relaxed, drinking his coffee, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world. Yet Morgan knew better. He was hiding.-

-"I'm so proud." Emily whispered in his ear, and he felt relaxed the first time in weeks. She felt like mother. in that moment, like something he missed, needed, for a long time. A Mother.-