Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or any characters recognizable as CM characters. I do own my OC Mark Rossi

Prologue

Spencer Reid didn't know whether his eyes were open or closed, both were the same to him. He'd been in the closet so long, he'd lost count of the time. He knew hours had turned to days, but had the days turned to weeks yet? But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part for him was hearing the whimpers and cries of the others, just on the other side door. He wanted so badly to help them, just once. He wanted to make up for all the times he'd failed to help. All the times his father had told him that what happened was his fault, even if he had nothing to do with it. He heard a single pair of footsteps coming toward the room. A shiver went down his spine at the thought that it was again his turn. The knob squeaked as it turned and Spencer slid as far back as he could into the closet. He knew what was going to happen. It was the same every time. It didn't matter what he did. Spencer couldn't stop it. He gasped when he hit the back wall unexpectedly, as the door opened.

The monster knelt down in front of the door, smiling as if he wanted to eat the boy for dinner. The man reached out and beckoned Spencer to him, annoyed when the boy didn't move. "Spencer, do you want me to go get someone else? To make them suffer? You know it'll be worse for them." William Reid spat angrily.

"No." Spencer said, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

"Then come out. You're my son. Daddy won't hurt you." William said gently.

But even as he came out of the closet, Spencer knew it was a lie.

000

Dr. Carolyn Rossi, M.D., sat in her Baltimore, Maryland office, lost in thought. Her last session of the day had been with a young girl whose father had been killed while fighting in Afghanistan. The girl's father had been a Navy Seal and that was part of the reason the session had stuck with Carolyn. Instead of keeping pictures on his desk, she had a mental list of all the significant moments in her life that she kept with her all the time. She thought about her only surviving son Mark, who'd once been a Navy Seal. Thankfully, Mark had survived every mission and Carolyn had thought her son would settle down and start a family after leaving the Navy. But it wasn't to be. Mark was in his mid-thirties, still single and currently a Deputy U.S. Marshal tasked with hunting down federal fugitives. Truthfully, the only black spot on her life had been the death of her youngest son, James. James had drowned in the family pool under Mark's watch when Mark was ten and James was six. Though Carolyn and David had never and would never blame Mark for James' death, Mark blamed himself. As a result, Mark had distanced himself from his parents. He still called on occasion, but that was rare. It went so far that instead of spending Thanksgiving and Christmas together as a family, Mark preferred to spend his time hunting fugitives, terrorist or insurgents. Carolyn had grudgingly come to terms with it, but it didn't mean that she didn't want her son back in life. Deciding she needed to call Mark, Carolyn pulled out her cellphone and punched 3 on speed dial.

000

The only part of his job as a Deputy U.S. Marshal that Mark Rossi didn't really care for were stakeouts. And it wasn't even that he didn't like stakeouts, he just had to be in the right mood. It just so happened that the particular fugitive Mark and his team had been chasing has escaped from prison for the fifth time. One time Mark could understand, twice ok maybe, but six? Really? Give it a rest and do your time already. His phone vibrated and he glanced at his partner. "Take your call; I'll watch the house."

Pulling the phone off his belt, Mark glanced at it and scowled. He recognized the number, but he couldn't remember exactly from where. "Who is this?" he asked, slightly irritated. Calls from unknown numbers and fruitless stakeouts tended to shorten anyone's fuse.

"Well, it's nice to hear you voice too, Mark."

Mark felt like a jerk. He hadn't talked to either of his parents in at least three months, maybe longer. He couldn't remember. But he'd never tell his mother that. "What do you need, Mom?"

"Six months and that's all you have to say?" Carolyn asked in an exasperated tone.

"If I had something to say, I'd called. Look, I'm busy, is there something you needed?"

Carolyn paused for so long before speaking that Mark thought she'd hung up on him. "No, I didn't need anything, Mark. Goodbye."

After he disconnected the call, Mark waited. His partner, Tim Freeman, knew him about as well anyone could. They'd worked together for five years. "You know…" Freeman started.

"Don't start, Tim. You know why it's the way it is."

"Well, yeah, but what's it been…twenty years?"

"Twenty-five." Mark said, staring intently at the house they were watching as their fugitive left through the front door. He couldn't have picked a better time, as far as Mark was concerned. "He's on the move. Let's go."

000

William hoped Spencer had learned his lesson. But with a mother like Diana, William knew Spencer would have to be managed with a firm hand. Besides that, Spencer was saving lives. He…

"U.S. MARSHALS! WILLIAM REID, FREEZE!"

How the… William started, before stopping himself from going down that road. He knew what had to do.

000

Mark watched the man in front of him. But he didn't see a man. He saw a monster. William Reid was monster who needed to die. Mark found himself going down a road that he should've avoided. Please just draw on us so we can get this over with.

He watched as William Reid pulled a weapon from under his jacket and started to move away and turn around in one move. "GUN!" Mark yelled, drawing his weapon and seeking cover behind a car on the curb. Using the car for cover, Mark aimed his .40 caliber Glock 23 down the street and was shocked when he didn't see William. Then, as his body regained control and he came down from the combat induced adrenaline rush, Mark heard a sound he'd prayed to never hear again. A man choking on his own blood. He turned and saw his partner had been shot through the throat.

"No…no! Come on, Tim! Stay with me, brother!" Even as he pulled out his phone and dialed 911, he watched Tim's eyes lock onto his own. "That's right, man. Stay with me."

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Yes, an officer has been shot. I need you to rush a bus to the 1500 block of Keller Street."

Even as he heard the sirens, Mark could feel his partner slipping away. In that moment, he knew that he would kill William Reid. And he knew exactly how he was going to it.

000

Mark sat in back of an ambulance, staring at nothing. He kept seeing Tim, his throat blown out by the gunshot. They'd been partners and friends for five years. Tim had only been married three years, and he had an eighteen month old daughter.

"So, the shooter was William Reid? You're sure?" Mark's boss Chief Deputy Marshal John Gregory asked.

Mark glared at his boss. "Yes, I'm sure. And I think I know how we can find him."

"Yeah, how's that?" Gregory asked.

"Call in the BAU." Mark said.

"The BAU? Aren't they FBI, track serial killers?" The Chief sounded skeptical.

Mark sighed. "Just trust me."

"Ok. But if it doesn't work out…" Gregory said, clearly still skeptical.

"It will."

000