Wow…. I got a ton of support on chapter 1! Ya'll can thank Nymphadora-TonksBAU's AMAZING review and support for me writing this right after I finished chapter 1.

The chapter title comes from Pearl Jam's "In Hiding." I don't own that or Criminal Minds.

So, without further ado, here is chapter 2 (It rhymes!)

I'm in Hiding

"I want you to know that I am hiding something from you, that is the active paradox I must resolve: at one and the same time it must be known and not known: I want you to know that I don't want to show my feelings: that is the message I address to the other."

~Roland Barthes

Spencer got back to his apartment and fell to the ground in tears. He couldn't think of anything past his pain and humiliation.

Eventually, he fell asleep curled up on the floor with nothing but blanket covering him…

"So good Spencer… Such a good little cock-sucker," Spencer gasped and looked up at Mathew… his rapist.

"Please no," said Spencer, knowing what was about to happen, even as Mathew pushed himself in.

Pain. Searing, splitting, mind-fogging pain. Stop! Stop! Is that him yelling? Spencer can't tell, but guesses it must be, because it stops as soon as Mathew covers his mouth with his hand.

He keeps thrusting… in, out, in out-

Spencer jerked awake and had to try not scream. There were tears running down his face. It took him a moment to realize that his alarm clock was already beeping.

That's right genius. It's Thursday. Have fun hiding your weakness from a bunch of profilers.

I could call in sick reasoned Spencer with himself but you never call in sick. Not even when you're actually sick.

Spencer groaned and sat up, deciding that going to work was his best course of action. He shut off his alarm and climbed in the shower.

Dirty. I'm dirty, so very dirty. He realized. He turned up the water as hot as it would go and saw steam raising from the shower.

Doesn't matter. Need it to be clean. Too dirty. Spencer stepped in the water and sighed as he felt it burn the impurities from his body. He was sure his skin was turning bright red, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered but getting clean. He grabbed a sponge and scrubbed his skin raw. Stayed in the shower until the hot water was gone and he had to get out.

He went to the closet to get out his customary Khakis, undershirt, button-down shirt, sweater, combination. He started to put on his khakis.

Don't worry, Spence, we'll get to that later. Mathew laid a gentle kiss to Spencer's…

"Ah!" Spencer screamed and threw the pants across the room. He closed his eyes and evened his breathing.

Calm down, Spencer. Khakis are out of the question. That leaves jeans and slacks… slacks are too formal. Jeans can be explained by sleeping in, which will cover other bases… such as why you're late.

With that conclusion in mind, Spencer went over to his closet and quickly pulled out his nice blue jeans and a red polo.

Dressing quickly, he was already very late and didn't want to naked for longer than necessary, he grabbed his belt with his cuffs, gun, and cell-phone case on it and his messenger bag.

Sure. I'll help. Just give a second to put my stuff in my apartment, and I'll be out…

Spencer closed his eyes and tried to ward off the memories. There was no way he could leave this at home. Everyone would notice. Once he was in control of himself again, he stepped out of his door, and made his way down.

Well, until he got to Mathew's door. He almost had a panic attack just looking at the door, but closed his eyes, breathed deeply and rushed past the door and downstairs.

"Spencer!" he heard and turned to look at Mrs. Hines. "Are you on your way to work?" Spencer nodded curtly. "Are you okay?" asked the older woman.

"I'm fine. Just overslept. Bye," said Spencer, then quickly left the building and made to walk to work.

Shit. If she, the old woman that lived next to him, realized something was up, then how could a group of profilers that he spent most of time with not? Maybe he could just account it to oversleeping.

Walking to work gave him a long time to think. Which wasn't a good thing.

33% of all men are raped. That's 1 in 3.

"We're not statistics, Spencer!"

1 out of every 10 rape victims were male in 2003.

"Reid, no wonder you can't get a date."

66% of people know their rapist and 38% are friends or acquaintances.

"It's not that hard, a Dalmatian could do it."

Victims of sexual assault are 26 times more likely to abuse drugs…

"It helps,"

Oh, and didn't he know it. When he took a shot, he could forget Tobias. He was numb. There were nightmares when he was high.

He still had the vials… hidden under the cabinet in his bathroom-

That dangerous thought was cut off when arrived at the FBI Headquarters. Good, maybe work could be a nice distraction from his thoughts. He went in the front door, gave the receptionist his quick customary wave and ran to the elevator, trying to act as much like himself as possible.

This is it he thought when the elevator clicked at his floor. Have to do this just right, or they'll know… they'll know how weak and pathetic you are. They'll hate you. You know it!

Reid took a deep breath and did his best to ignore the voice in the back of his head, then stepped out of the elevator and made his way inside.

"Well, well, well," he heard a voice come from behind. Reid flinched at the condescending words, although they were spoken in a joking tone, "what have we here? He good doctor Reid is," the man, who Reid now recognized as Morgan, looked down at his watch, "45 minutes late." Morgan hooked an arm around Reid's shoulder in a friendly way.

Reid stiffened.

Mathew grabbed Spencer's shoulder to keep him from leaving.

Morgan looked down worriedly at his young friend. All he had done was sarcastically taunt the boy a bit and put an arm around his shoulder, but Reid was freaked out. He had stiffened, was trembling, and his pupils were dilated, but before Morgan could ask what the matter was, Reid just shoved his arm off of him and murmured that wasn't feeling well and quickly walked off.

Morgan looked as his friend walked away. He was lying. It was obvious. But, the only time he'd ever known Reid to outright lie was when he was either a) about to throw himself into trouble or, b) he was on drugs. Neither were attractive options.

And, as much as hated ratting on his friends, Morgan decided the best course of action was to tell Hotch.

~~~~^~~~*\O/*~~~~

Reid spent most of the day at his desk doing his paperwork. And Prentiss's, but not Morgan's, which was odd, because usually he did do Morgan's paperwork. Damn. He must have let him know something was more wrong than he was letting on earlier when Morgan touched him.

But other than Morgan, Reid was pretty sure no one else was too suspicious. Of course, when he showed up late, everyone asked, but he just said he was a bit under the weather and slept through his alarm. Prentiss reminded him that it was OK to take a day off, but Reid turned her down, saying it wasn't bad. Everyone left him alone after that.

"Hey, JJ!" called Morgan when he saw her walk into the bullpen.

"Hey, Morgan," responded JJ.

"Spence," said JJ to get Reid's attention.

You're so beautiful, Spence.

"Spence?" asked JJ worriedly again as she saw Reid stiffen and start quaking. His breathing was erratic and he wasn't responding to her calling his name.

"Spence!" she said, getting really worried.

He gasped and his eyes, which were mostly black from his pupils, darted around nervously, finally landing on JJ's eyes…

Mathew held him against the wall and looked Spencer up and down with hungry blue eyes.

"No!" he yelled, and took off, out of the bullpen. By this time, most everyone else had noticed the noise, and one of the agents not one the team had been able to stop him before he got all the way and was struggling to keep him still, by holding him around the middle. Finally, Reid gave up his struggles and went limp in the man's arms and eventually fell unconscious.

"Morgan," Hotch said, from where he was standing, "take Reid and get him down to my car. I'm taking him to the hosipital.

One of life's primal situations; the game of hide and seek. Oh, the delicious thrill of hiding while the others come looking for you, the delicious terror of being discovered, but what panic when, after a long search, the others abandon you! You mustn't hide too well. You mustn't be too good at the game. The player must never be bigger than the game itself.

~Jean Baudrillard

Ok, the next update won't come near so quickly, but I hope you like this one!

Please Review! And all of you that have so far, thanks! Keep it up!