The Appropriated

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad. -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

A/N: A sequel to Pollution.

Hotch.

He was alone.

No Haley and very often no Jack. He spent a lot of time over at Haley's sister's place. It wasn't that he was trying to get rid of him. Far from it. It was an attempt to give Jack his mother back in a strange way.

He employed a nanny and so when it was being discussed in the hospital what was going to happen to Reid now he was awake and walking and eating Aaron put his hand up and offered to take him in. He would get someone in specially to care for any special needs he might have, but in reality the nanny could care for him too. She was often there in the house with no Jack anyway.

So this is why Reid was sitting in the spare room surrounded by his things. A huge collection of books and boxes of things brought here from his own place so he would feel at home and comfortable.

Hotch wasn't sure it was the best of ideas. Reid was still not talking. He would sit and rock and mutter and cry, but he didn't communicate. He needed to be told to wash and when to eat, and when to sleep. But slowly, very slowly he was improving. They physical wounds were all but healed, but the scars would be there on his skin forever. The scars on his mind it seemed wouldn't heal. They were still open raw weeping wounds. The therapist would come to talk to him every day. And he would talk and talk to Reid and get nothing back except recently occasionally it seemed that Spencer looked at him. A good sign. A sign he was healing. Slowly.

Monday:

Hotch had gone to work. Rosa was singing to Jack. Today Reid remembered to take a shower. He remembered to dress in the clothes laid out for him and he managed to go down for breakfast. It was mid day, but Rosa gave Spencer a lovely smile and cooked him eggs and pancakes and gave him coffee with lots of sugar and she chatted away to him knowing she would never get an answer. That was good. Rosa didn't mind.

Tuesday:

Again Hotch was at work. Reid couldn't remember if he had been there for supper last night or not. He forgot to shower and he forgot to get dressed. Rosa came to find him at lunch time. He was standing looking out of the window. Hotch was there for supper. He had listened to Aaron chatting. But the words were flying high above his head. He wanted to say something back, but there was no voice to tell him how to say it so he kept quiet.

Wednesday:

Hotch took Jack to stay with Haley's sister. This would give them some together time and give Rosa time to sort Reid's room out.

When Spencer awoke he could hear birds singing. It had seemed like a long time since he had heard that. It felt like forever. He slowly got up and looked at the sweatpants and T-shirt Hotch had got ready for him and walked slowly to the shower.

Spencer stripped and took a long hot lathery shower. He moved his hands over the scar just above his hip and around to the one on his back. Sometimes he thought he could still feel the blade piercing his skin. Sometimes when he was alone he would cry and rock himself to sleep. He looked at his hands, the marks still there but fading and he felt his neck and sighed. It should have ended then. Spencer washed his dirty hair and when he was clean – about two hours later – time was something he was still having a big problem with – he dried his pale body and towel dried his hair and slid into the comfortable if not entirely flattering clothes.

He went back to his room and picked up the cell phone. 'Call me if you need me. Speed dial one.' But he knew he never would even if he desperately needed to, to hear that voice which grounded him.

Rosa was being very noisy this morning. Reid flicked his damp hair with his fingers and decided he needed to eat. He chucked the cell down on the bed and opened his door. She was shouting at someone or something, but it was in Spanish? He couldn't understand her anyway. Was she shouting at him? He stood half way down the stairs and listened. He could hear another voice. A male voice shouting back.

He walked quickly on feet which this morning hurt. He should have put slippers on. Hotch told him to but he always forgot that but yes – walk to the kitchen and get some food. He pushed open the door in time to see the horror show.

Rosa's eyes went huge as the man standing behind her drew the blade across her neck and let he fall to the floor. For a split second Reid just stood and looked.

"Who the hell are you?" A voice from over at the side.

And Reid turned and started to run.

He could hear shouting behind him as he left the kitchen and ran down the hall. His feet were slipping on the polished floor and as he turned to make for the stairs he felt a hand grabbing for the back of his clothing. Pure adrenaline kept him moving forwards. When the bat caught him on the back of his legs his knees gave way and forced him to crawl up the stairs. He wanted to scream. He needed to get to the cell phone on his bed. His whole mind focused on that one thing. Small black and shiny and sitting on his quilt. He felt a hand grab his ankle but it was not a good grip and he managed to pull it away. As he reached the top of the stairs, still on his hands and knees he felt something hard make contact with his shoulder.

For the first time for as long as Spencer could remember he cried out in pain. Scrabbling forwards still he could see his bedroom door. Closed. The precious phone was on the other side of the door.

Something hard again hitting him on the back slowed him down. Shouts and screaming and he didn't know if it was him or the people behind him. A sudden shooting pain in his left foot and the bat came down on him again and a grey fog seeping around his vision. It was slow motion. One crawl forwards met by pain from above. His fingers brushing on the white painted door of his room and now laughing. It sounded like they were laughing at him. The door swung open to let him carry on into the room. He could see his bed. Aaron on the end of the phone but they were stopping his movement now. Someone had a foot on the small of his back and someone else was shouting words at him.

A boot in his side and pulling hands had him laying on his back staring up at the aggressors. Reid started to crawl back into the room still watching them. He felt a hand on the front of his shirt pulling him up to sit and the man was looking closely at him.

"I know you from somewhere."

Reid tried to turn his head away.

"Look at me. I need to know where I have seen you before."

He tried to slap the hands away and keep moving back. Just get far enough away to get to the cell. That's all he needed. Crawling slowly back, trying to keep his face turned away and he was reaching for the quilt. His hand was grabbed and twisted as someone looked at the marks on the palms and the backs.

"He looks like the guy from 'Rent Boy in Chains.'"

"I think we should take him home and compare."

Laughter which almost distracted them as he pulled the quilt off the bed.

The kick in the groin put Spencer's attempts at reaching the cell phone on hold. His breath was ripped from his lungs in agony and all thoughts of cell phones and speed dials went out of the window as the bat came down again taking him in the kidneys. He wanted to curl up and protect himself. He had seen what they did to Rosa and was in no doubt what they had planned for him.

They kicked him in the ribs and they stamped down on his feet and hands.

Now he knew he was crying out in pain. He could hear his voice. He was calling for Hotch. He was calling for Floyd and all he got back in return was static and a bat on the side of his head.

…………………