Im real sorry this took so long to post, ive had a lot going on in my life - i've been in and out of sessions and ive been recovering from an illness and havent had time or the motivation to post anything..

I really really really enjoyed writing this chapter, its my favourite one, and i know exactly where im going with this story again so im already working on chapter four! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i do.

'You are a wonderful creation, you know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know.' - Oscar wildes, the picutes of dorain gray.

He had watched as the girl made her way down the empty alleyway, her black and blue hair tied back into a bun, she clutched her bag tightly and he remembered smirking, she'd be easy to control. As he had come up quickly behind the girl, he had shoved the rag into her face, the chloroform worked quickly and she was soon unconscious, he dragged her to his car knowing he'd have some fun. He glanced up at her now, her hair loose and her face wild with fright, he put down the jacket he had removed from her, and stood.
'I hope you are stronger than the rest.' he snarled, the knife in his hand glinting, walking calmly up to her his face only a few feet from hers, 'Now stop fucking crying.' he whispered, and slashed the girl across the cheek, causing her to flinch and wriggle, trying to escape, he continued to slash across her body, pushing the knife in through her skin and smiling as she bled, smiling more as it clotted and smiling wider when he made new cuts.
'Please, please just let me go, stop please.' she cried as he did it, not realizing her words made him shiver with excitement over the torment he was causing her, and he continued well into the night, until she passed out from the pain and exhaustion, and he wiped his hands, and walked out into the cold night, needing to earn some money so he could buy in more diladuid, he found his alley and leaned, selling to anyone who came, that was until he noticed a tall, thin man at the end of the alleyway, with long hair that curled at the bottom.
'Doctor Spencer Reid' he murmured to himself, before cutting through some back alleys so he could see where he see the man without being seen.

Reid had been laying in his bed for the better half of an hour, his mind just wouldn't switch off and give in to the exhaustion that was weighing his body down and it was depressing laying in semi-darkness (he acknowledged that his team had given him the room with a street lamp outside the window so he had a source of light) wishing he had been more useful, or wishing he had never even had an addiction to diladuid so he would not even be in this position to start with. Sighing he gave in and threw his legs out of bed and switched on the light deciding that maybe the cold air outside might make his brain realize how tired it was, throwing on his black suit trousers and a button up white shirt and his usual black shoes, he made his way down through the lobby and into the street outside.

Chicago was unusually cold tonight and he breathed in slowly while feeling the air make him shiver, as his body upped its temperature, He found himself walking aimlessly through the streets surrounding the hotel, letting his brain wander from subject to subject but he never focused on something for longer than a moment before his course of thought changed. He had a rough idea of the direction he had traveled in but found himself pulling to an involuntary stop at the end of a darkened alley, where he could see a figure leaning confidently against the wall, and he knew who it was. He shouldn't have been surprised to see a drug dealer in Chicago, but he had avoided all such contact with dealers since he became clean, one of the steps he had too take in order to rid himself of the thoughts that still haunted him, and the thoughts he got walking down the alleys back in Washington, and he reminisced that this sort of felt like home to him.

Reid had no idea what he was really doing, or where he should go, all he knew was that usually you found dealers in bad areas and down alleyways, and Washington was a big place but he needed the diladuid so badly, he had thought that those two vials he had took of Tobias would be enough, that he would stop after they had been used, but before he knew it they were empty and a sense of anxiety and frustration had threatened to overwhelm him. He knew he had to find someone to supply him, to free him, to be his very own Tobias Hankel without the personality disorder, so he had been wandering, itching his the crook in his arm and sweating in the cool air. As he was about to give up and go home and deal with the withdrawal, he realized he had passed an alleyway with a lone figure down it, taking a few steps back he felt hope rise in his chest as he walked quickly down the alleyway, the man looked up as he approached, a smirk tainting his features.
'E-excuse me.' Spencer stuttered, unsure of how to go about buying drugs, he had $100 on him, hoping it'd be enough.
'What's your drug' the man stated easily, already knowing a drug addict when he saw one, and also knowing a fairly new one as well, however this one was pretty looking, which was unusual, they usually looked rougher, more muscled, or toned at the very least. This boy was skinnier than anything he had ever seen and had long hair that curled behind his ears, but he saw it in his eyes, the boy had huge bags under them and he looked dead and frightened, he was a child.
'Diladuid.' he quietly said, shame wracking through his body, the man simply smiled.
'Ah, diladuid. Not as common as it used to be, but i have some. How many?' he asked, his voice husky and low.
'3 vials' The man then reached into his pocket and pulled them out, Reid looked at the man, he had short black hair that curled slightly on his forehead, he had muscle but not as much as Morgan, his face had a tattoo but Spencer couldn't quite make it out.
'That'll be $90.' Reid reached into his pocket and pulled out some of his money and placing it into the mans hand, the man, smiling, place the vials into Reids and it was done, his first drug transaction was done. 'I hope to see you again, kid. Don't use it all at once.' the dealer taunted, and Reid simply turned and half walked, half ran, back to his small flat.

Spencer snapped out of the flashback and felt shivers running through his body, more extreme than before. The man in the alley had vanished and Reid frowned and realized that it was time to head back to his hotel room, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling of nerves and paranoia as he walked, but however many times he glanced behind, he never saw the man lurking in the shadows on the street opposite, smiling with anticipation as Spencer entered his hotel, he watched the windows and saw one switch on for ten minutes, and off again.
'Now the games really do begin.' he said aloud, before stepping back into the shadows and heading back to the girl he had tied up, wanting some fun.

Reid awoke in a cold sweat the following morning, and he was itching for a shower, he was early for once which was nice, the team wouldn't get worried, he swung his legs over the bed and made his way to the bathroom and blasted the water at the highest temperature possible, before stepping under it and relishing as it un-clenched his muscles and relaxed him. After he had finished he made his way down to the lobby, as he continued to run his fingers through his long hair and untangle it, he caught sight of a irritated looking Morgan. 'Everything ok?' He asked as he approached, Morgan just looked at him and shook his head.
'Ill explain at the station.' He simply said and looked out of the windows and they stood silently waiting for the team.
As the rest of the team arrived in the lobby, they all went to go in their cars, and re-united at the station where they headed straight to the conference room.
'What did Garcia say?' Hotch addressed Morgan, skipping all the crap.
'Garcia looked into all the cops at the beltway clean cops meetings and all of them check out, they're all clean and some have moved away, none of them live in Chicago, or mailed anything here.' Morgan paused and made eye contact with everyone before continuing. 'She also did a search on Frank, and got something.' Morgan got the photo up on his iPhone and showed it to Reid. 'Is this Frank?' he asked bluntly.
Reid studied the photo and recognized him immediately, the tattoo on his head gave him away, it was of a swan. 'Yes, that's him.' Morgan sighed. 'His name is Reece Frank Philips, he was 35 and was arrested for drug possession on multiple occasions and sexual assault, along with one account of rape.'
'You say 'was''? Rossi inquired.
'Yes, that's the bad news. Franks dead.' Morgan said, pursing his lips, while glancing at Reids reaction. Reid tried desperately to control his features, he was dead? how? when? he was healthy? and strong enough to defend himself?
'How did he die?' Prentiss asked, JJ moved over and put a hand on Reids shoulder, so he knew she understood.
'He was murdered.' Morgan said, taking in the teams surprised eyes. 'Not an ordinary murder either, they found drugs in his system - heroin - and he was badly mutilated, however on the whole of his face the initials SR were found.' At this everybody turned to look at Reid.
'Wow, our unsub does get around.' Prentiss muttered.
'We need to re-do the profile.' Hotch addressed the team, re-focusing them. 'It seems our unsub is obsessed with Reid, and he must have been stalking you for quite some time to know your regular dealer.' Hotch said.

He stepped into Reids room, his hand lightly touching Spencers clothes, he picked up a familiar shirt he saw Spencer wear so many times and inhaled the scent, it smelt of a slight after shave and Spencers natural aroma, it was intoxicating. He still remembered the first time he smelt that very smell, it was then he knew he loved him, he watched Spencer plunge into a great depression, and Spencers addiction got out of control, but he also got to watch him get better, which made him mad with envy as he had became addicted to the same drug as Spencer just so they could be closer, so they could be together, so why didn't Spencer love him anymore? Why didn't Spencer WANT him? It infuriated him, shook him too the core, so he decided to try again, to invite Spencer back, so they could be oblivious, and he left the small vial of diladuid on the chair, along with a needle and tourniquet, and wrote a small note. Smiling at this great achievement, he inhaled the shirt one last time before folding it how Spence liked it, and left the hotel through the back entrance.

Spencer went through the whole day sorting through ideas with the team and he sprung ideas, and so did they, but could not come up with any connection to anybody in Spencers life, it was a hard situation and Spencer was enervated. By the end of the day the team had not got anywhere with their brainstorms and decided to again, call it a day; Spencer could not believe he had let the team down again, he also couldn't believe Frank was dead, or Reece, or whatever his name was, Spencer walked quickly to the bathroom before leaving and leaned his hands onto the counter and let it support his weight entirely. He stared at the basin for a long time before looking up slowly into the mirror and into his hazel eyes which seemed to be more dark than usual, it took him a while before he noticed Frank standing behind him.

'Spencer.' Frank murmured, his voice sounded harsh, as if something was blocking his airways.
'You're dead?' 'Yes.'Frank smiled slightly at Spencer, mostly for stating the obvious.
'How are you here?'
'Well, you're the genius Spencer, I'm obviously a figment of your sub-conscious, I'm trying to give you clues that are hidden in your mind, however its extremely hard when you were high for most of these clues.'
Spencer paused, and shut his eyes and rubbed them with the backs of his hands before re-opening them to find Frank standing there still. 'What clues?'
'You know them, Spencer. Its so painfully obvious!' Frank lowered his head to his hands and started banging the sides of his head. 'Time to wake up, Spencer.'
'What?'
'Wake up!'

Spencer jolted awake in the SUV which Morgan had been driving, he vaguely acknowledged Morgans worried glance at him.
'Sorry... I was in a deep sleep.'
'You seemed distressed?'
'I'm fine... I'm exhausted, Morgan.'
'Go to your room Reid and get some rest, things will be better tomorrow.'
Spencer nodded and opened the door of the SUV and made his way to his hotel room.

He opened his door tiredly to his room, and closed it behind him, when he turned Frank was stood in the middle of his room.
'I'm sorry we had to cut that conversation short, Spencer.'
'Am i asleep again?'
'This time? No. You are however, extremely tired and you're hallucinating - Which is more fun for me.'
'Wonderful...' Spencer leaned against the wall and let his eyes droop.
'Pay attention, Spencer. I figured out how to access the clues.'
Spencers eyes opened fully and he stared at Frank. 'How?'
'You wont like it.'
'Try me.'
'You need to take diladuid.'
Spencer choked on the air he had taken in, and clutched at his throat. 'No. I.. I cant.'
'Its the only way, being high will trigger buried or otherwise forgotten memories.'
'Ill be relapsing.'
'It's the only way... come closer Spencer, look at your chair.'
Spencer took timid steps forward and slowly looked at his chair and felt his breath catch in his throat again.
The diladuid sat temptingly on the seat, he couldn't tear himself away from looking at it, it was too inviting, too... too necessary. It took him a moment more to notice the handwritten note placed between the needle and diladuid. He read it slowly.
'Oh dearest Spencer, indulge yourself.'
Spencer dropped the note and backed towards the bed and shut his eyes tightly, this was a steep and narrow path he was walking. If he took it, he could crack the case, or so his hallucination said; but if he took it would mean admitting defeat after all this time, it would mean going through detox, or worse, being fired.
'There must be another way.' Spencer pleaded with his own mind.
'Spencer, think about it, when high you enter parts of yourself that you do not allow yourself access too usually. You lock away all those high memories because you're ashamed, you put a padlock on the box and left it at that, think of diladuid as your personal key. It would work.'
Spencer knew he was right, and in his haze made a snap decision, he grabbed the tourniquet and tied it quickly around his arm, he grabbed the needle and plunged it into the cap of the diladuid and drew up on the plunger, letting the liquid settle and flicking the side to make sure there was no air bubbles; and for a minute Spencer thought realistically what he was doing, he was going into oblivion. The thing was, Spencer knew the truth was, it was always going to end this way.

So he plunged the needle into the crook of his elbow, and pressed the plunger now, and gasped in sweet release.

Spencer opened his eyes, he was in a dirty bar, the air was warmer in here, he had no recollection how he got there, but he was sitting on a barstool, his back arched over the counter nursing a glass of whiskey. How unusual.
He took a sip, but could not remember deciding to do so, he didn't even like whiskey but he felt numb, like he wasn't really all there. He felt a breeze as someone sat down next to him and asked in a strong voice for a shot of yager. Spencers head moved without him directing it.
'Hey Spencey.' Frank smirked.
'Why are you here?' Spencer replied, he was confused, why was he not in control of his voice?
'Worry. You seem to be unusually out of your head tonight, i didn't want you getting hurt is all.'
'I'm fine.' Spencers words slurred together.
'Sure you are, come with me, i have a place you'd fit in perfectly well, your dream house, actually.' Frank then downed his yager and hooked his arm over Spencer before smiling at the bartender and placing money on the counter.
Spencer could not feel himself being lifted and soon realized why - he was in a dream. The dream began to pass quickly, and resumed as they entered an untidy house smelling of cannabis. He noticed that there was a cop in there he knew, taking what looked to be heroin.
Spencer felt himself being dumped into an armchair, and Franks face was inches from his own.
'What do you want, Spence?'
'Dope. Coke. Anything.'
Frank smiled, and brang Spencer a white powder, and knowing Spencer was too high he made the lines for him.
'Go for it, live a little.'
Spencer grabbed the rolled up ten dollar bill and snorted the power easily before feeling his head go fuzzy. Darkness. When he awoke, he was in a dark room on a bed, he felt like he had been hit with a few trucks, he looked around and noticed a figure standing in the back shadows.
'Hi.' the figure whispered in the darkness.
'Where am i?'
'In franks secret little house still, you were pretty messed up.' the voice replied as if he and Spencer were the best of friends.
'Who are you?' Spencer inquired.
The voice broke off then, the words not forming right, messing together and not making sense.
'Ok then.. why are you in the dark?'
The figure chuckled and took a step forward, and as Spencer strained to see his face, his fear doubled. The mans face, even in his dream, was distorted, as if someone had taken it and smudged it.

Spencer awoke with a jolt.