The room spun. She stretched, crying out at the pain that followed. Her head felt like it weighed ten times more than it should have. Her lips were dry and cracked; the shackle around her left ankle stripped the flesh from her leg. She reached out to one of the water bottles her captor rolled across the floor to her. Picking one up, she found it empty and grabbed another. Again, empty. Four bottles, all empty. She threw the last one across the room.
She screamed. She screamed until the pain in her throat turned that cry into a sob.
Sometime later, still sitting in the pitch black she sat up. She huddled in a corner and took a deep breath. Everything hurt, she shivered in the damp, cold air but her mind was clear. She sat going over everything for the twentieth time. She remembered her morning run. Had it been that morning? Or had more time passed? Running, with her music turned up and pumping, she didn't notice the car pull up beside her. She didn't notice the door open or the arms shoot out. A hand slammed over her mouth and she was pulled in the backseat. A cloth covered her face as she struggled, screamed and blacked out. She also remembered lying in her bed trying to decide whether she wanted to get up or not. Next time, she'll stay in bed. Next time. Tears started to fall as she realized there might not be a next time. It was looking more and more like she'd die here. She let her head fall against the wall. Thinking like that wasn't going to help her in anyway. Spencer would find her.
Someway.
Somehow.
She must have dozed off because she jumped as the door was opened again. She had given up trying to talk to her captor. A water bottle rolled across the floor. She crawled toward it ripped off the cap and drank deeply. The water burned as it flowed down her throat. The light from the opened door reminded her that the blinding room lights from before hadn't gone off for a while. At one point it was going off every hour. It wasn't worth analyzing, she was just thankful. Looking up from the water bottle, she realized the door hadn't closed. This was what she would worry about. Her breath caught in her throat. A figure filled the doorway. She slid back to the wall, the chain rattling along the floor. It echoed through the room. She shivered. The figured moved from the doorway. She waited. What else could she do? She held her breath. The figure moved back into the doorway, this time with something in his hands. A bucket? She cried out as the icy water hit her body. She gasped and the breath she held pushed its way out. Her mouth and nose filled with water. She cried, coughed and spat it out. The door slammed shut. She sat back in the darkness, wrapped her arms around her knees and gave into the trembles running in waves over her body. The light flashed back on. She turned toward the wall and cried.
Penelope Garcia sat in her tech cave staring at the backlit screens that circled her. Through these screens she could access anything. Everything. It was through these screens that she had helped save countless lives and send horrible people to jail. She was doing what no one else could. She was an essential part of the team, nothing was safe, and no information was off limits. As often as they called her and depended on her knowledge to help solve the crimes, Garcia couldn't help but wonder if sometimes this room was a crutch. Her family was out in the field, while she dealt with passwords and security codes.
She watched the video on the screen. She had never felt so helpless.
The video itself came to her through e-mail. Of course she dismissed it right away, only stopping because of the subject line. It read "Lindley Reid Barrett". Garcia took a chance and clicked the link. It immediately took her to a webpage with a single video player. As the video began, Garcia realized with horror, what she was looking at; Spencer's sister. The one they hadn't even known existed. The young girl sat in a corner. Her leg was chained to the floor. She closed her eyes against a bright, unnatural light. Garcia jumped as a figure entered the frame. The figure drew back, with what looked to be a bucket in his hands. He swung his arms towards the girl. A liquid launched out of the bucket, soaking the girl in the corner from head to toe. The figure walked out and closed the door. The Tech Goddess of the BAU was watching a live video feed of the genius' baby sister