A/N: Mad thanks to all my reviewers. So happy to see that more are reviewing as every idea gives me more feedback. While this chapter is light on whump be rest assured that there will be much, much more in the next chapter. Enjoy!
It was absolutely exhausting, Reid thought, to sit down. Or maybe he was just tired and sitting down didn't give him any more energy; he was just simply overwhelmingly tired. He'd just gotten off shift. Robin, another brothel girl, nudged him. "You alright?" she asked. "You look like you're about to pass out."
"Michael wouldn't let me eat dinner, just hungry and tired," Reid said as he leaned against the wall. Robin was one of the few who he and Morgan trusted. He and Morgan had been at this location for just over five months.
Robin handed him two granola bars. "I suspected as much, so I stole this for you. Where's Morgan?" she asked.
"Client," Reid said, "Supposedly an overnight booking."
"Hmm, been awhile since he's been booked overnight, sure, but why do you say supposedly?"
"The two people who were with them looked like they'd rather spend the night sleeping than playing. The guy who was with him reminded me of..." Reid sighed,he knew exactly where the person reminded him from. He was someone who was famous for writing books - Rossi something. Reid was really hoping he was wrong, though, because he couldn't imagine such an agent flaunting himself in a brothel.
But then again, why the hell would the many be here from America? That made no sense. "Anyway. They just struck me like they'd rather be asleep."
Robin shrugged, studying her shoes. "A few Viagra, and that might change."
"True." Reid yawned. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just tired, rough night. Whips aren't fun."
"Tell me about it. Did you know the crack of a whip is actually a sonic boom?" Reid asked, leaning back against the wall as he covered his lap with his blanket.
"What? No, I forget you have a photographic memory," she said with a sigh. "I'm glad I got to move in here, the girl's room fucking sucks."
"Well, this room smells more so it's not all roses."
"I'll take a room smelling more over drama," Robin said with a sigh as she looked at Reid before studying his face. "OK, out with it. What's on your mind?"
"I just remember being an FBI agent, and wishing I wasn't weak and allowing these guys to just - do whatever, you know?"
Robin shook her head. "Trust me, being a prostitute doesn't make you weak - not even a forced prostitute. It doesn't matter what you did or didn't do in your former life either. Someone shows up, says they'll kill whoever and do whatever - you listen to them. It's not weakness, it's simply self-preservation."
"You've thought about this a lot," Reid remarked.
"Been a prostitute seven years," Robin said as a few others trickled into the room. She frowned as she looked at Reid. "You know, Morgan asked me to book a room without cameras."
"Without cameras?" Reid asked, watching Robin flick her blonde hair. "I thought you and he took care of all that."
"Yeah, no room is without cameras now. It's like a code, really - I think I've told you this before but perhaps not. See, if someone asks for a room without cameras, there's two reasons: one, the client has requested it and two they want someone checking up on them."
"And?" Reid prompted.
"Well, I thought Morgan requested it because the client did ask... But now I'm not so sure."
"You want to go check up on him."
"Yes."
Morgan sat down on the floor as he watched the two men talk. He didn't recognize either and didn't mind being ignored. He hated all-night gigs, they were never fun. They didn't even pay that well, and you usually had to work the next night too. Morgan inwardly groaned as he realized his debt was still at $200,000. The debt system was such a crapshit and very, very illegal. But when they took away all your documents, killed your friends and threatened to kill more...
The grey-haired man sat down next to him. "Your street name is Brayden?" he said.
"Yes," Morgan said, tense.
"I thought you requested the room without cameras."
"I did."
"Then what's this?" the man asked.
"We have no rooms without film monitoring. We have rooms without cameras," Morgan defended himself, wincing as he had no doubt of what would happen next.
"Film monitoring sounds similar to cameras to me, why didn't you state that?" the man stated, glaring at him as he crossed his arms.
"Because you didn't ask, and I'm not psychic."
"I'll be back," the second man added. He was the one who had been there the first night. "Gotta call in a favor."
Morgan's stomach churned, sometimes Michael would take out the cameras but that request had to be run by him. God, he was so fucking dead.
"You shouldn't have lied," he said as he patted Morgan on the head. Morgan didn't move, even though he cringed as he was touched.
"Yeah, all of the rooms come with cameras, special requests have to go through me. Morgan should know that, of all people," Michael said as he came into the room. He grabbed Morgan and flung him back at the baseboard of the wall. I'll leave that for you to deal with, but allow me to disconnect them. Just a moment." He smiled, then added, "Morgan is always allowed to be seen without them." He quickly swept all of them and then left the room.
The two men spent some time looking around, and Morgan groaned, hoping he wouldn't at least need to go to the urgent care after this. Not that that would ever happen. The only time they were allowed out was when they were being moved. Oh, and that one time Reid had been taken to the hospital ages ago. The client hadn't even been banned for shooting Reid in the foot.
When they finished whatever they were doing, they sat down. The gray-haired man looked at him. "You used to work for the FBI."
"Correct." It was a commonly known fact, he lost nothing by revealing that.
"So why are you here?"
"Because you've booked me overnight," Morgan deadpanned. This was going to be a long night if they kept asking shitty personal questions. "Do you get erections by playing the twenty questions game, or do you want blackmail material? My answers may vary."
"You'd rather have rough sex than answer questions? That could be arranged," his repeat said.
"I just want to know why you're here. You're not a good guy client and you don't want to have sex with me - so why are you here?"
"Just checking on a favor is all," the man said.
"Are you law enforcement or something?" Morgan asked. He knew it wasn't uncommon for law enforcement to case the joint and arrest people for no reason whatsoever. Generally, the false law enforcement would arrest the person, beat him badly, then turn him back into the abuser.
"What if we were?"
Morgan's head leaned against the ceiling. This was just not his night. "Then I'd say I'm fucking screwed."
With that the person smirked before shrugging, "I think we're done here." With that he slammed the door shut and the other person followed.
Morgan stared after them, wondering what the hell was going on and what he was going to get punished for.
Then his heart seized. Reid. Fuck. He grabbed the back door and finding it locked, yelled, "What do you want, you bastards? Come back! I swear to god-" but he sighed, grabbing the handle as he raced down the stairs. The men simply checked out and left.
"What was that about?" Reid asked him, following Robin to the front desk.
"I don't know, but it was weird..." He sighed as he let his voice trail off. "Come on, let's get some rest."
"Thought that was an all-night client."
Morgan shook his head to Reid and motioned for him to follow him. Reid, Morgan and Robin went to the basement.
"Think they were undercover," Morgan told Reid, "wouldn't touch me and just asked questions."
"That's pretty typical of do-good law enforcement," Robin said. "That and they also don't tip."
"What is the law enforcement like in this area? I've heard various different things, mostly that it can be good but that it's skewed heavily towards the brothel owners," Reid said.
"It generally is. People like that will go undercover all the time. If you complain that they're hurting you or holding you without your passport they'll inform Michael." Robin removed the corner of her shirt and a scar revealed MHN. "Meghan. She died because of that."
"Duly noted," Reid remarked.
"What happened?" Prentiss asked as Rossi and the agents came back. Rossi sat down and opened a Dr. Pepper while the other agent said he'd let them be, then closed the door.
"Well, Morgan's alive. I suspect Reid's alive too," Rossi said.
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, I saw someone that looked like the picture in the bar, but moreover Morgan was compliant yet somewhat combatant. It was almost like he wanted to launch out and attack us, but couldn't with someone there. Would that fit with the relationship he had with Reid?"
"Morgan can be overprotective," Prentiss nodded. "He'd be trying to protect Reid for sure, especially if Reid has gotten hurt because of his actions before, which is likely. You didn't reveal you were an agent, I assume."
"Of course not. There were cameras in the room even though we requested a camera free room. Morgan told us some bullshit about how he knew all rooms were covered with a camera, and that he assumed we didn't want to see any."
"Probably a lie they're encouraged to tell," Hotch suggested, "Would make sense; they would want to keep an eye on their clients and their boys."
Rossi nodded. "It was a good move sending me in, he didn't recognize me. Unfortunately, we're not going to be able to ask questions unless we can get him or Reid away from the compound."
"Yeah," Hotch said. "So what we need to do is figure out exactly how they're controlling Reid and Morgan and why. We need to get a better look at how they work, which will be very, very hard to do."
"Unless one of us goes under," JJ suggested.
Hotch shook his head, "No, you'd be noticed right away. I doubt Morgan or Reid would be able to conceal their shock if they saw you - that's why we sent in Rossi."
JJ nodded, and Garcia spoke up. "I'm going to go see what I can find online about the brothel."
"I'll help," JJ added as she followed her.
Morgan groaned as he looked at Reid. "We've been summoned to a meeting with Michael," he said.
"Why? We've been being compliant, what does he have to meet with us about?" Reid asked even as he rubbed the sore spot on his arm. "We have been being compliant.. right?"
"What if that's what he's worried about - we're being too compliant?"
"More likely we're being moved again," Morgan said with a sigh.
Reid sighed, "Yeah, probably."
Michael came in then and sat down across for them. "Morgan. Reid." He leaned back in the chair and smiled. "There's rumor that one of your team survived the blast."
Reid and Morgan exchanged uneasy looks. "Yeah...?"
"And he's here, searching for you."
Morgan's stomach dropped, wondering who it was and how it was happening and how Michael was going to use this against them.
"And you're going to tell him that you want to be here and that he should fuck off," Michael smiled.
Morgan's stomach dropped as he looked at Reid, who had the same horror-struck look on his face. "H-he won't buy that,-"
"You don't even know who it is. Actually, I have to come clean about something. I lied." Michael smirked and grabbed Reid by his shoulder before grabbing him and holding a knife to his neck. "Your team never died."
Reid's eyes widened as he stared at Morgan, silently mouthing what the fuck to him. Morgan tried not to reply anything.
Another man came in then dressed in a suit. "This is my organization's lawyer, Mr. Nichols. He will be taking you to the station and you will be telling them that you are free here, this is your life now, and that you are not to be bothered. Then we're moving you. I'll be moving Reid to the new location and you will meet him there as long as you're all well-behaved. Understood? Otherwise," Michael said, grabbing Reid, and aiming a gun at his head, "Something might happen."
"Got it," Morgan said, his jaw clenched.
A/N: What do you think will happen next? What do you think of what's happened so far?
Here's a challenge for you: How do you think the team will react to Morgan's statements?