its been a while since my last update so this chapter is longer than most. my poor computer was gone most of my Christmas break which sucked. the little hole where the charger thing goes wasn't working so I had to go to a computer shop and it cost more money than I wanted to pay to get it fixed. so I didn't get it back until my break was over. but here we are. my stories will never be forgotten. there are warnings in this chapter. theres blood and theres probably going 2 b even more blood as the story goes on. I'm still getting a feel for my characters, but its coming along quite well. enjoy!

"Fear cuts deeper than swords."

-George R. R. Martin

J.J. knew how worried Spence was about what Nick injected her with. She was trying to keep track of her own symptoms though. She wasn't experiencing any pain or dizziness, but she wished she could at least look at her leg. If something deadly was running through her veins, she was sure she would be able to see some kind of terrible marking on her skin, but she couldn't. It seemed like there were a million different possibilities to what Nick could have put in that needle, but if she kept focusing on that, she would probably go crazy. There was nothing she could do about it. For now, everything felt alright to her. Her leg wasn't hurting at the injection site, and she didn't feel like passing out. It was going to be okay. Reid's poor feet were another story. J.J. couldn't tell how long ago it was since their captor left them, but Reid's feet were swelling. His left foot was still covered up with Reid's only sock, but she could see could the black bruises running across his toes on his right foot.

"How do your feet feel?" J.J. asked, but she already knew the answer. Reid could tell her every lie he could think of, but she knew his feet hurt badly.

"They hurt," Reid admitted. "But not that bad. The foot was designed to be able to go through forces of trauma caused by running and jumping so it's better he dropped the brick on my feet than somewhere else. I'm not planning on walking on them anytime soon."

J.J. pulled again on her chains. The chains weren't old and rusty looking like they had been up there for a while. They looked brand new like Nick bought them just for this purpose. How much of this had actually just been set up for this kidnapping? J.J. looked around at the boxes that seemed random to her at first, but the longer she looked at them, the more she saw the design in their placement. They created a path that was just out of her line of sight. It was the path that Nick followed when he talked to them, and it was the path he took when he left. They were probably locked up in the front of the window so they would be able to tell what time of day it was, but she didn't know why Nick chose to keep Reid right next to her. It seemed like they would be stronger the longer that they were together, but J.J. wasn't going to mention that.

"Do you think he went to work?" J.J. asked. With the size of this attic, the house below them had to be huge. They were abducted in the evening, spoke with their captor just before dawn, and they hadn't seen him since. He was working a 9-5 job. That's all J.J. could think of. He would be back to see them before sunset. She was sure of it.

"Yeah," Reid said. He was staring at the boxes too. "He has to have a good job to afford a place like this."

Doctor. Lawyer. Producer even or he was the heir to a fortune from wealthy parents.

"Do you think his wife works?" Reid asked.

J.J. noticed the ring too. Nick never mentioned a wife, but he obviously wasn't living in this huge house all by himself. J.J. wouldn't be surprised if he had a few kids running around too. That meant it was more likely for someone else living here to stumble upon J.J. and Reid hid away in the attic. J.J. wasn't against screaming and making all kinds of noise to get the wife's attention, but they had to make sure that their captor was really at work. If they made a racket and Nick was downstairs, it wouldn't be good for them. The best idea for them right now was just to wait. They would figure out Nick's schedule soon enough.

"I bet she does," J.J. said. "It's rare for a woman to not have a job nowadays. And they probably have kids too. Imagine how big this house is. It's too big for just two people to live here, and seeing as it's a weekday, everyone is gone. Parents at work. Kids at school. House is quiet. It's empty. Except for us."

J.J.'s stomach growled. If Reid heard it, he chose not to mention it. She was hungry. She didn't get a chance to grab something to eat before they drove to the Blackwell house, and she never ate very big lunches. It wasn't going to be long before her stomach growled again. She wondered when Reid last ate. Or drank. She didn't have to use the bathroom which seemed like a gift from God, but she would have to before the night was over. She was positive that Nick wasn't going to let them use his facilities so when nature called, they were going to have wet pants for a while.

"House isn't empty," Reid casually said. He was still staring at the boxes. She lost interest in them a long time ago. Reid probably memorized all the labels written on the boxes, and if there was any design to their organization, he knew that too. "Don't think it's ever empty." J.J. looked towards the boxes to see what Reid was staring at. She still didn't see anything.

"What are you talking about?" J.J. asked. "Don't think the place is haunted Spence."

"No," Reid said with a slight smile. "There's a cat behind the boxes. It woke up about an hour ago, and it's been watching us ever since. I was thinking the cat was going to come over, but I guess it's still scared of us. Nick probably has no idea the cat is up here."

She looked back towards the boxes, but didn't see a cat. She supposed a cat was better than a strange dog hanging around. She never really got over her fear of big dogs, but she would rather have another person hiding around in the attic. A cat couldn't exactly help them. The only thing a cat could do was keep them company during those long nights. J.J. was hoping it wouldn't come to that though. The team already knew J.J. and Reid were missing. How long would it take for them to be found? Hotch and the others most likely already found the crime scene involving the Blackwell child. J.J. didn't think Nick was stupid enough to take their phones, and since their phones were missing, they were back at the house. That meant the team found the little boy, their phones, and their guns. How would that help the team find out where J.J. and Reid were being held?

"Spence, do you think Nick left anything behind when he took us?" J.J. asked.

"Our guns are missing, our phones, our shoes, and my belt is gone. Unless he is keeping those for safe keeping, he left them behind at the house."

"No, I mean like, evidence," J.J. said trying to find the right words. A shadow coming from behind one of the boxes caught her attention. Reid was right. There was a little cat hiding over there. "If they only found our stuff, they won't have much to go on. They won't even have his fingerprints since he was wearing gloves. How is the team going to find us?"

Reid licked his lips. He didn't look scared, but he was anxious. She looked back down at his feet. The swelling wasn't going down. Nothing good would come about of mentioning it again. Reid knew more than she did about the condition of his feet. She just prayed the swelling would go down soon. There was nothing else she could to help him. All they could do was wait.

"Footprints," Reid said. He had his eyes closed like he was trying to remember his own abduction. J.J. didn't want to think about hers. It happened so suddenly. She was glad she didn't have to see that little boy die. She was surprised to see that Reid seemed to be handling it somehow, but maybe that was because reality hadn't yet hit him. All of this could be a dream still. They could both wake up back at the hotel ready to end the case. J.J. still felt like she was in that dreamlike state too. Anything was possible, and consequences didn't really matter because choices made in the subconscious rarely effected the waking mind, but this wasn't a dream. It might be a nightmare, but this wasn't a dream.

"The ground was soft," Reid said thinking back. "The grass was a little bit wet. It wasn't like they just watered it, but maybe the cold nights had lingering dew on it. The yard was mostly grass, but there were still a few areas that were bare like behind the tree where he was probably hiding. His footprints have to still be there." Reid opened his eyes back up breaking the flashbacks in his mind.

The team was probably still at the Blackwell house, and if Reid was right, they found this guy's footprint behind a tree so they had Nick's shoe size. That was it. They might be able to find out where he bought the shoes, but unless it was some really rare shoe store, that wasn't going help the team. That wasn't going to get Reid to the hospital, and it wasn't going to get Nick behind bars. J.J. looked away so Reid wouldn't see the disappointment on her face. She didn't know why she was thinking that Nick would have been stupid enough to leave his wallet behind. That did happen a lot at crime scenes, but Nick planned all of this out perfectly. He knew what he was doing, and J.J. wondered how long he had been thinking about doing this.

"What do you think he wants with us?" Reid asked after a moment of silence. J.J. had been thinking the same thing. It could be Nick's way of striking back at the government for some misfortune that happened in his youth or he was trying to get ransom money to escape somewhere. Both of those ideas seemed plausible, but not likely. Nick seemed more interested in meeting J.J. and Reid than getting revenge or money.

"I don't know," J.J. said. "I really don't."

"He doesn't want money," Reid said. "I don't think he needs money, and he didn't mention calling the media to demand ransom money. I think he just wanted us."

"But why?" J.J. asked.

Reid didn't answer, but he didn't have to. The hiding feline finally decided to introduce herself. She crept out from behind the boxes with a deliberate slowness that amused J.J. Her head bobbed up and down as she studied the new people in her home. She was a delicate little creature with striking calico markings and a dark pink nose. She meowed loudly at them, and inched forward. Her fur looked healthy, and even though she was smaller, she looked well fed. Nick wasn't abusing his cat, but he had no problems locking two federal agents in his attic.

"Hi Kitty," Reid said softly. The cat didn't run away when she heard Reid's voice. She took another step forward, and meowed again. The cat had no idea they weren't supposed to be. To her, this was just another adventure with new humans to meet. Could animals sense pain? If the feline stopped in front of Reid, would she know how badly hurt he was? The cat jumped on one of the boxes in front of them.

"So either he likes cats, his wife likes cats, or his kids do," J.J. said.

"Do you think there are more cats somewhere?" Reid asked. He didn't look around for more though. He had his eyes fixed on the cat on the box.

J.J. didn't care if there were a million cats in the house, but did Nick know this cat was up here? Was he going to come looking for the cat after work? Was he going to come back to the attic earlier than he intended to get the cat? The cat jumped off her perch, and wandered over to the agents. She was back to bobbing her head up and down when she got close to Reid.

The cat might have been afraid of them at first, but she lost all of that fear when she started sniffing the boy genius. She didn't seem to notice his feet, but she circled around him and in no time at all, she was brushing her head against his side. Reid smiled, and he moved his arms to pet the cat only to be reminded that he was still chained up. The cat didn't mind. She circled up, and lay down next to her new friend.

"I think she likes you," J.J. said. She would have been pestering him to go out and adopt a cat of his own if she was safe at home. Nothing the cat did would make her forget where she was or that they were dealing with a dangerous unsub that they still knew little about.

Reid seemed to lose interest when he remembered that he couldn't pet the cat. "Look out the window."

"Why?" J.J. said. She was hoping he could see sirens somehow. All she could see was sky.

"The sun is starting to set," Reid said. "It's still winter so the sun is setting earlier, but that means Nick will be home soon."

J.J. felt like her breath was caught in her throat. Reid was right. Of course he was right. The sun was going down. Nick left very early that morning so he would be heading home soon. He might stop to get some dinner and maybe spend some time with his family, but then he would be right back up in the attic with her and Reid. J.J. wasn't ready to face this unsub again. She didn't like not knowing exactly what she was dealing with or what to expect when he came back, and by the look on Reid's face, he wasn't ready to see Nick again either.


Hotch thought Garcia did a terrific job at the press conference. He hated asking her to do it because it made her so uncomfortable, but now at least the public had the image of the monster they were looking for. Somebody knew this guy. He just didn't appear out of nowhere and abduct two federal agents. J.J. and Reid had been missing for an entire night. Hotch and the others hadn't slept all night, and he sent Prentiss and Rossi back to the neighborhood after first light. He couldn't believe that much time had gone without a peep from the unsub. What did this guy want with them? If money was a motive, he would have contacted the media by now demanding a location for the ransom money. That call never came, and he had Garcia ready to track any suspicious number that came their way. Rossi reminded him that if their unsub had a day job, any letters or calls would have to wait until he was off work. That was some comfort. If the unsub was working somewhere, he wasn't hurting Reid or J.J.

"I have extra officers patrolling the neighborhood around the Blackwell house," Sheriff Labute told Hotch as he walked in the conference room where Hotch was waiting with Garcia. Jude Labute was a nice enough fellow. Hotch worked with him in several cases in the past. Labute was in his 40s with auburn hair and brown eyes. Hotch only met Labute's wife once, but Hotch could tell even then how much they loved each other. The last time Hotch actually saw Labute was a few weeks after the sheriff's wife miscarried. To Hotch's knowledge, the couple never did have any children.

"I don't expect our unsub will be back at that house any time soon," Hotch said. The abductor had no reason to go back. He already had what he wanted.

"Another body was just found in the area," Labute said. "A young woman in her car. "We don't know if she is another victim of the guy you are looking for, but I'm having my men wait for you. I'm sure your team will know right away if the new guy or not."

"Alright," Hotch said. Hotch was positive that this new victim wasn't from the same guy who took his friends, but it was worth checking out the scene. "Where is she at?"

"Oak and 34th Place," Labute said. "It's within walking distance of the Blackwell house."

While it was very possible that their unsub did kill someone else before the murder of Timothy Blackwell and the abduction of his agents, Hotch didn't think this murder was related to his case. From the sounds of it, this woman died within the general time that Reid and J.J. went missing. If anything, this was the final victim of Adam Blackwell. Hotch pulled out his phone and texted the cross streets to Rossi.

"Oh, and Hotch?" Labute turned around when he got to the door. "There's somebody out here to see you. I think your guest wants to see Garcia as well." Labute smiled, and opened the door a little wider so Hotch could see Morgan waiting patiently out by the front desk. Morgan hadn't been gone that long, but it seemed like years. Garcia made some kind of squealing noise from the chair she was sitting at, but she jumped on her feet and ran over to her dear friend.

Morgan wasn't quite expecting that kind of reunion, and he fell back a few steps when Garcia pounced on him with a big hug. Hotch smiled, and stayed in the conference room for a moment longer to let them have their moment. Garcia was crying, and Morgan didn't look like he was that far from it. Hotch understood why Morgan had to leave, and he would never criticize Morgan for the choices that he made, but this team really was a family. They would always be there for each other. Hotch stepped quietly out of the conference room. He didn't want to disturb them, but there was a little boy standing directly behind Morgan. Seeing as none of the officers were concerned with the child's presence, Hotch was betting the kid came with Morgan.

"Don't surprise me like that!" Hotch heard Garcia telling Morgan. "I've missed you so much and then you come out of nowhere when we are all having this terrible day and you don't even bother telling me that you would be here."

"Sorry baby girl," Morgan said breaking the hug. "I didn't even know I was coming myself until this morning when I saw the news."

"The press conference didn't help much," Garcia said. She wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve, but looked ready to start crying again any minute. "We haven't heard from the unsub. At all."

"What time did they go missing?" Morgan asked.

"Just after 11pm last night," Hotch said. "We don't know exactly what time because there were no witnesses, and the rest of us were already in the house. We were in the house for about half an hour, and by the time we got outside, Reid and J.J. were already gone."

Morgan nodded.

"The only things we have to go on right now is the unsub's shoe size, and a drawing that isn't that accurate from one of the neighbors. She saw a stranger in the neighborhood, but she couldn't see him or his car that well since it was dark outside," Hotch said. "We have the sketch hanging up in the conference room."

Morgan followed Hotch and Garcia into the conference room, and stared at the bulletin board. There was so little on it, but Morgan took his time memorizing the face of their unsub. "Another body was just found," Hotch continued. "I'm sending Prentiss and Rossi to check it out, but I don't think it's from our unsub."

"Because he just wanted J.J. and Reid," Morgan concluded.

"We just don't know why," Hotch added. Hotch was sure once they could figure out the unsub's motives, it would be easier to find the guy.

"Who is the little boy standing by the door?" Garcia asked. Hotch looked up, and saw the kid that Morgan came with was now waiting casually by the door. He was no doubt listening to every word they said. Hotch actually forgot all about the kid when Morgan was staring at the sketch.

"Oh," Morgan said. He turned around to acknowledge the boy. "John Blackwell. He was hanging out with Rossi and Prentiss earlier. I offered to take him to his aunt's house, but nobody was home when we got there. I couldn't just leave him outside so I brought him with me."

Hotch looked at the boy, trying to find any kind of similarities between him and his older brother. His hair was much lighter than Adam's was, but they had the same eyes. He was wearing jeans with a black sweater, and even though he was looking at one of the televisions out front, Hotch knew the kid was more interested in what the team was saying than the game on the screen. There was a quick wit about him, and Hotch wondered how a boy like that survived for so long in such a strict household.

"Have you talked to him at all about what he saw last night?" Hotch asked. After they found out that Reid and J.J. were missing, he left the Blackwell family in the care of the sheriff. Hotch hadn't talked to any of them after Adam was killed. Rossi said he found the children in one of the upstairs bedrooms, but that didn't mean they stayed in that room the entire time. It was very likely that one of them saw what happened to little Timmy.

"No," Morgan said. "I found out about his siblings, and that his mother hasn't mentioned to him or the other children about how their brothers died. John found out online at his aunt's house."

That wasn't surprising. The internet provided countless information in a matter of seconds. John was going to find out one way or the other. Hotch just hoped that the kid didn't get too many details. That would mess up his growing mind.

"Do you think he saw something?" Garcia asked.

"I don't know, but I'd like to talk to him," Hotch said. "We don't need to do anything formal, but maybe he can tell us something more than what we have. Did you call his mother?"

"Yeah, I had to leave a message," Morgan said. "Called her three times on the way over. She never answered, but when she decides to check her phone, she will know where he is."

"Thank you for not leaving him outside," Hotch said. He went over to the door and waved the boy over. "Garcia, can you let me know when his mother gets here?"

Garcia nodded, grabbed her laptop, and went back out to the waiting area. "I'm going to grab a coffee," Morgan said after Garcia sat down. "I'll bring one for you too. Be nice with the kid. He's been through a lot. He's doing a pretty good job at hiding it, but be careful."

Hotch would never do anything to traumatize the child, and if John didn't want to talk to him, Hotch wouldn't pressure him. John paused a moment when Morgan left, but he came up to Hotch with a small smile on his face. His eyes were betraying the smile. He looked nervous.

"Hi sir," John said. He kept his hands behind his back, and Hotch noticed that his clothes looked a few sizes too big. Hotch never really dug into the past of the Blackwell family, but he sure this kid was wearing the same clothes that his brothers wore when he was their age. Was this new unsub connected at all to this family? Was there any specific reason to attack when he did?

"Hi, my name is Aaron Hotchner," Hotch said holding out his hand. John took it and smiled.

"My name is John, but I go by Johnny," the boy said. "My sisters call me Johnny. I like it better. I don't think I'm too much like that one guy from the Bible so I'm Johnny."

"Nice to meet you," Hotch said. He stepped into the conference room and beckoned for Johnny to follow him. The boy looked around again, probably for Morgan, but he followed Hotch."Would you mind talking to me for a few minutes? It might help us find the bad guy who took Timmy from you."

Johnny shrugged, but he took a seat at the end of the table. Hotch sat down next to him. If the unsub was stalking their house, someone from the family had to have seen him. "Before you guys came last night, mom put me and my sisters in the guest bedroom. There's a window in there, but you can only see out the side of the house. Not the backyard or the front yard so none of us could see what was going on."

Hotch nodded. He didn't have time to go through the house the night that Adam died, but he didn't think Johnny witnessed the murder of his little brother. "Let's not think about last night. Close your eyes for me. Think back to yesterday. Did you notice any weird cars driving around?"

Johnny closed his brown eyes, and put his hands underneath his legs. His eyes were still moving beneath their lids, and Hotch was grateful this little boy was trying his best to help. "No. Mom painted the windows in our bedrooms white so we can't look out anymore. She didn't want us to get tempted by the devil. When we wanted to look outside, we had to go downstairs to the living room. She didn't paint those windows so we didn't get to see outside a lot. Like ever. But wait."

Hotch perked up, and grabbed a notepad from the table to write down what Johnny said. "There was a weird car yesterday. Not like weird, but I didn't recognize it. I was downstairs for Bible study. Esther and Rachel were upstairs doing girl stuff, and Timmy was supposed to be playing in the backyard. But I couldn't concentrate on the Bible so I looked outside. There was a black car parked across the street. It was shiny. I thought Simon was coming home to visit us, but I don't think he could afford a car like that."

"What kind of car was it?" Hotch asked.

"I don't know car brands," Johnny said. "But it was shiny. And it had 4 doors. The windows were rolled down."

"Could you see the driver?" Hotch pressed on.

"No one was in the car. But when Timmy came out to the front yard, I saw some man hiding behind a bush and I was laughing cause I thought he was some stupid door to door salesman. We haven't seen those guys in forever cause mom always scared them off. I thought he was gonna try to sell Timmy something so I watched."

"What did he look like?"

"Um, he was tall," Johnny said. "His eyes weren't brown. He was wearing dark clothes. Like a black button down shirt and black pants. They weren't jeans. His hair was light brownish. He was hiding behind a bush when Timmy came out, and I saw Timmy finding something in the grass and then he ran inside. I know he found a bird cause he showed me later, but I didn't know then. But after Timmy was gone, the man bent over and picked up the birdy. He had his car keys in his pocket, and he pulled them out after he had the birdy in his hands. I couldn't see what he did, but when he was done, he threw the birdy against the tree. So I knew it was dead. Timmy came back out with a shoe box like he wanted to keep the birdy, but he screamed when he saw it was already dead."

"Your brother brought the bird inside?" Hotch asked. Hotch looked down at his notes. Johnny saw the same black car the neighbor saw from that night, and it seemed like Johnny was giving a more detailed version of their unsub. He couldn't wait to have Johnny talk to the sketch artist.

"Yeah," Johnny said finally opening his eyes. His eyes were big with tears. "Timmy was crying, and he brought the bird to Rachel, but she couldn't help it. I think it was dead before the bad guy threw it on the tree."

"Why?" Hotch asked.

"It was bleeding really bad from its stomach," Johnny said thinking back. "Timmy was going to ask Adam to help bury the bird under the tree house, but I don't think he ever did. The bird is probably still next to Timmy's bed. He was really upset about it. We all are. None of us saw anything dead before. I didn't know that Timmy was going to be dead next. When mom went to see his body earlier, she wouldn't take any of us with her. She even left Esther behind."

Johnny couldn't go on. Tears were freely falling from his face now, and he kept sniffling. Hotch wasn't going to ask anymore from him, but when he was ready, Hotch wanted the sketch artist to talk to him. If Johnny's memories were right, they could get a very detailed image of the monster they were dealing with. Somebody was going to recognize the unsub.

"I mean, I can't even remember the last thing I said to Timmy," Johnny said. He wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his jacket. "Why would somebody do that to him? I don't understand. I'm really sorry that your friends are missing, and I really hope that the bad guy isn't hurting them too. But if I knew the same creep who killed the bird was going to kill my brother, I would have stopped him right then."

"There's nothing you could have done," Hotch said softly. "You're helping us a lot now."

"What do you want me to do?" Johnny said.

"I have somebody here that can draw the man you described to me," Hotch said. "Once the drawing is done, we can post it on the news so that everybody can see what he looks like."

"Do you think you will find him fast then?"

"Faster than not having this sketch," Hotch said standing up. All they needed was for one person to recognize him. Just one person.

"I'm sure your friends are okay," Johnny said. "I mean, maybe not okay, but like alive. He killed Timmy right away. He didn't do that to your friends."

Hotch agreed, but the unsub wasn't keeping them alive so he could have more friends. He was keeping them alive for another reason. He had to believe that they were both still alive since no more bodies have been found except for the woman in the car. When he killed Timothy Blackwell, he left the child's body out in the open for all to find. Hotch suspected that if he was planning on killing Reid and J.J., he would treat their bodies in a similar fashion.

"Thank you for your help," Hotch said. Johnny smiled. He was done crying, but he was never going to get over losing two brothers in one night. "Would you mind talking to the sketch artist now?"

"I'm ready," Johnny said.

Hotch smiled back at him, and stepped out of the room where Morgan was already waiting with the sketch artist. She held her collection of drawings against her chest, but she looked more than ready to talk with the little boy. "You read my mind?" Hotch asked Morgan.

"Nah, I'm not that cool," Morgan said laughing. "Overheard you, and when Johnny started talking about the unsub, I knew you would need this lady soon."

"My name is Robin," she said smiling. She had short brown hair that bounced up and down when she talked, and her brown eyes were hidden behind a pair of glasses. "The sketch shouldn't take that long, but hopefully he can give me enough details to work with. I'm sure he will."

"John Blackwell!" a woman shouted from the front door. Hotch turned around and saw Mrs. Blackwell storming in the police station with her two daughters. Hotch hadn't seen any of them since last night. He wasn't even sure that he met any of the other children, but these were her daughters. The older of the daughters, Esther, had brown hair that went straight down her back. The younger daughter, Rachel, had the same brown hair but her hair was far past her waist. They had similar dark eyes, the same color that Johnny had, and they were dressed modestly. They wore long blue skirts and white button shirts with black sweaters over them. The elder of the daughters had a gold necklace on with some kind of charm on it, but that was the only thing that Hotch could see that was different about the two girls.

Johnny didn't look much like his mother. She didn't have their same brown eyes, and Hotch didn't see a single freckle on her face. The children probably looked more like their father than their mother. The only characteristic they got from her was their hair coloring. She was dressed more casual than her daughters were wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but her gray eyes looked fierce.

"Ma'am, please don't come in here shouting," an officer approaching her calmly said. Her daughters stayed behind as she came further into the station. "What can I help you with?"

Hotch turned around to watch Johnny sinking further and further into his chair. Hotch felt for him, but he had no power to keep Johnny there if his mother wouldn't let him. Morgan slipped past Hotch, and sat down next to the kid. That didn't help much. Johnny looked miserable.

"I'm looking for my son," she said. She was nearly shouting again. "John Andrew Blackwell. 12 years old. He will be 13 on October 28th. Someone called me and told me that he was here. He has light brown hair, and his eyes look just like his sisters' do."

"We were just talking to him Mrs. Blackwell," Hotch said. He took a deep breath, and walked out front to meet her formally. She didn't look eager to shake his hand when he held out, but she did. "My name is Agent Aaron Hotchner. We met for a few minutes last night."

"What are you doing with my son?" she demanded. "He needs to be home."

Hotch looked back where Morgan was hanging out with Johnny. He couldn't see them where he stood, and neither could Mrs. Blackwell. "He saw someone suspicious in the neighborhood the day that your younger son was killed. He was just about to give the description to the sketch artist so we can get it sent to the media today. The faster the public knows who we are looking for, the faster we can catch him."

"How dare you talk to my son without my permission? What gives you the right to talk to a child without the parents present? John! I know you can hear me. Get over here right now!" she shouted.

Johnny emerged from the conference room with Morgan by his side. His head was hanging down low, and he kept his hands held together in front of him as he went to his mother. His mother grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back to his sisters.

"Don't you dare disappear like that again!" she yelled. "Girls, take your brother to the car. I'll be there in a minute." The eldest daughter nodded, and put an arm around Johnny's shoulders. He looked close to crying again. Rachel held the door open for them, and the three of them left together. When they got to the old van, Johnny looked back up at Hotch. He looked like he was trying to say something, but Hotch missed the message when Esther nudged him into the vehicle.

"Ma'am, we are really sorry for what happened last night, but his statement could help us find the monster than killed Timothy," Hotch said gently.

"You are the ones that killed Timothy," Mrs. Blackwell scowled. "You came into my home, killed one of my oldest children, and then allowed my baby to be murdered in his own backyard. You did this. I want you nowhere near their funerals and I don't want any of you speaking to my children ever again. I hope you rot in hell for what you did to my family." She spat on Hotch's feet, and stormed out. Hotch watched her race to her van, and speed away without bothering with her seatbelt.

"I'm going to have a talk with her," Sheriff Labute said calmly stepping up besides Hotch. "What she just did was assault a federal agent."

"She's grieving," Hotch said. People grieved in different ways. Hotch couldn't imagine losing two children in one night. It didn't matter if one of them was a murderer. Adam was still her baby, and Hotch would never criticize someone for the way they mourned. He was just really disappointed about losing Johnny before the sketch was made. They couldn't do it without that boy.

"You gotta stop making excuses for people," Labute said, but he turned back to his desk. "That woman wasn't nice before her kids died. I'm just waitin for the day when another one of her kids snap, and I'm sure it's gonna happen. You saw how she was with them. Those girls didn't say one word, and her boy got quiet too once she got here."

"I don't think we've seen the last of Johnny," Morgan said.

"Why?" Hotch asked. He personally never wanted to see Mrs. Blackwell again.

Morgan handed Hotch a ripped up piece of paper. Hotch opened it up, and saw the bad hand writing from the preteen.

DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME. YOU'LL SEE ME AGAIN

Hotch put the note in his pocket without thinking twice, and pulled out his phone. He didn't have any new messages from Rossi or Prentiss. They were probably already at the crime scene. They were most likely going to tell him the dead woman in the car had nothing to do with the guy they were looking for, but Hotch didn't have time to wait. Reid and J.J. needed him. If they were right about the unsub having a regular job, he'd be home pretty soon.


Rossi and Prentiss were heading back to the station when Hotch told them about a new victim. The unsub that abducted Reid and J.J. did it with such skilled ease that it was probable there were more victims they had yet to learn about. He made sure he left nothing but a footprint behind when he took them that night. Prentiss was already running a profile in her mind. He wasn't a young man. Younger criminals make more mistakes so he was probably in his 40s. He was in shape. He murdered a little boy and abducted two federal agents with ease, and he probably didn't stick out in a crowd. The sketch that their witness gave had been out to the public for hours, and as far as Prentiss knew, they didn't get a single new lead. He also had space to keep Reid and J.J. in, and it was someplace that he knew his family wouldn't look so Prentiss was imaging a shed of some sort.

"We should start looking at bigger properties," Prentiss said. The houses in this neighborhood weren't small by any means, but none of them looked big enough for a shed to be in the backyard.

"I don't think asking Garcia to send us a list of people with a lot of land is really going to narrow down our search," Rossi said.

Rossi pulled over across the street from an obvious crime scene. Prentiss counted for police cars, and curious pedestrians stood in front a nearby house taking photos. What good would those pictures be for anyone? Someone's life was tragically cut short, but the public was just basking in the moment of being close enough to the scene to show off the photos to their friends. It made Prentiss' stomach roll. She put gloves on, and was ready to cross the street as soon as Rossi locked the car.

They pulled out their badges when they got up to the officers, and the police stepped aside. Like Hotch told them, the policemen had not touched the vehicle. It was a cute Volkswagen bug with a large flower sticker on the back. Red dice hung from the rearview mirror, and the steering wheel was covered with a cover of red flowers. This was the girliest car Prentiss had ever seen. It belonged parked in front of some high school, not surrounded by police cars in a murder investigation. Prentiss bent down to look inside the driver's window, but it was hard to look in. There was blood everywhere. She debated against opening the door. With her luck, the dead girl inside would tumble right out so Prentiss circled around to the passenger side of the car.

She opened the door and took a step back. The smell was overwhelming. This girl wasn't just killed. Prentiss couldn't tell how long the body was just sitting in the car decomposing, but she thought the girl probably died sometime during the night. Blood was all over the once pristine car. On first glance, Prentiss could tell the poor thing fought for her life. That's why the blood was in more areas than just her seat, and her hand was still on the door. Her final moments would soon become immortal in the photographs the police would take of the scene. They would be stored somewhere and become forgotten in time, but this broke her heart. The hand with the red nail polish and heart ring still on the door handle just showed Prentiss that the girl was trying to get away. She was trying to get out of that damn car and failed. She paid with her life.

"Her name is Danielle Lewis," an officer behind them said. "We didn't touch anything, but we did look up the license plate. She just got the car a year before."

"How old was she?" Prentiss asked. She spotted a framed photo of an older man in the backseat. Even that was not spared from the bloody mess that stained the rest of the car.

"She was 19," the officer said. "We haven't told her family yet. We were waiting for the body to be positively identified."

Her purse was in the floor of the backseat. It was a little red purse that seemed to match with everything else in the vehicle except for Danielle. She was wearing all black. She wore a black coat that was opening just enough to reveal a black dress underneath, and she wore a matching black headband over her blonde hair. It seemed odd that a vibrant girl like Prentiss assumed she was would be wearing all black. She looked at the picture in the backseat again and made the connection. She was going to or coming from a funeral.

"Her throat was slit," Rossi said. He leaned forward in the car, and gently opened up Danielle's mouth just enough to look inside. "Her tongue is missing."

That settled any mystery for Prentiss. Danielle Lewis wasn't murdered by the unsub who abducted Reid and J.J. She was the final victim of Adam Blackwell. Rossi pulled out of the car and pulled out his phone to let Hotch know. Prentiss got further into the girl's car to close her mouth when she noticed a gold locket on a necklace she was wearing. The tiny locked was opened up to reveal a photo of the girl and the same man who's photo was in the backseat. She closed Danielle's mouth, and got out of the car. The smell was starting to make her feel light headed.

"The unsub that has Reid and J.J. might have been watching them," Prentiss said.

"I think he was watching Adam Blackwell for a lot longer than we were," Rossi said putting his phone back into his pocket.

"He knew when we were coming," Prentiss added. This new unsub was smart. She would give him that much. He had every last detail of this abduction planned out. He could have even planted that footprint there to throw them off his track. "He was ready and waiting for J.J. and Reid in the backyard. He was probably there even before we were."

"So he knew what case we were on, and he solved it before we did," Rossi concluded.

Prentiss looked back at the car, and was blinded by a flashing light coming from one of the spectator's cell phones. She couldn't believe the blatant disrespect by some idiot with a smart phone. She looked across the street at the group of people. Most of them were young, in their 20s, but there were a few that looked even older than her. She didn't know which one took her picture. It didn't matter, but she wished that they would stop.

"He was ready before we were too," Prentiss added. Not only was the unsub hiding out in the backyard, he also had his bait. "Do you think he knew Adam?"

"That could explain how he solved our case so quickly," Rossi said. "But Adam wasn't the smartest tool in the shed. The unsub that took Reid and J.J. seems smarter. A lot smarter."

Prentiss still wanted to look into the idea of Adam having a close friend that knew all of his secrets, but where would they find the friend? Adam didn't go to school, and he didn't have a job. From everything Prentiss gathered about him, his only friends were his siblings. That could be something for Garcia to look up. Prentiss was sure he graduated from high school, and he might have a lingering friend or two that he talked to sometimes. It wasn't a strong lead, but it was better than nothing.


Maddie was shocked when she turned on the television that morning and heard what occurred during the night. It was bad enough that a little boy was brutally murdered and that his older brother was a suspected serial killer, but two federal agents were abducted from the scene as well? How often did that actually happen? Maddie couldn't think back to one incident even similar to this one. Not one. She couldn't wait to get to school though and ask Professor Nick what he thought about this. If anyone had some kind of insight into a killer's mind, it had to be her Philosophy teacher. He came highly recommended, and even though classes had only just started up again after the long Christmas break, she liked him. She was always fascinated by serial killers. When she was in high school, she would spend hours in the library looking up killers like Jeffrey Dahmer and Ted Bundy. What made them into cold blooded monsters? Most of them blamed trouble upbringings, but not all of them were beaten and abused as children. What was their excuse then?

Maddie threw a pair of jeans on, a cream colored blouse and a black jacket and ran out to her car without eating breakfast. She always wanted to look her best when she left the house. Eating always came second to her. She was the first one to class, like always, but Prof Nick didn't get there until the minute class was supposed to start. He was disheveled. He was wearing a different suit than the one yesterday, but what hair he had wasn't brushed. He went through the lesson swiftly, without taking any questions, and left before the students did when he was finished. Maddie couldn't get one single question in, and God knew she had a lot.

She was a little bummed out when she headed to her next class. It was just Math class, and even though the young man teaching the class was a looker, she really wanted to talk to Prof Nick. She sat through the rest of her classes with little interest. Only one of her teachers took a moment of silence for the little boy who was killed. The rest of them acted like nothing of any great importance happened last night. It wasn't like some huge mass shooting, but it was still sad and there was still a monster on the loose. She didn't think the guy who took the agents was a danger to the rest of society though. If taking the agents was his first real crime, he sure aimed really high. There was probably something about the FBI that pissed him off, and he wanted to get revenge. That seemed plausible. She wondered if the FBI thought of this. She wondered if there was a way to contact them. She was sure there was a tip line somewhere, but she didn't recognize the man in the sketch that was going around. There was a witness to the horrors that unfolded during the night, and she gazed at the sketch released by the FBI. She stared during her lunch, but she didn't recognize him.

After a short lunch, she strolled down to the library. She had a little bit of time before English class, and since she didn't have any homework, she thought she could read. It beat going back home. That would just be a waste of gas. There weren't any new books out that she really wanted to read so she just strolled through the aisles until something caught her attention. The book she chose had a large black cave on the cover with a young woman holding a lantern peaking in. That was enough to catch her attention. What was inside the cave? She liked books that made her think. If a book was truly over when she was done reading it, was it worth it? She liked stories that stayed with her long after the last page. She sat down with her chosen book near the back of the library and started reading.

Maddie only got to the third chapter when someone caught her eye. The red hair of the woman stood out in a room full of brunettes and blondes. She looked up and saw Mrs. Harris browsing through the biographies of ancient leaders. Maddie could see why Prof Nick married her. She was beautiful. She wore a long blue skirt with a white button down blouse. She wore a longer white coat over it which made her red hair stand out even more. When Nick was next to her, they looked like the perfect couple. Maddie rarely saw them together though. They worked opposite hours so it was odd to see Mrs. Harris there that early. Maddie took a class with Mrs. Harris last semester, and she wanted to again this semester, but her schedule was already too full. Mrs. Harris was one of her favorite teachers.

She put the book down, and walked over to Mrs. Harris. Since Maddie couldn't talk to Prof Nick, she was sure that his wife would have some insights. They were probably talking about it this morning before he left for work.

"Mrs. Harris?" Maddie asked.

The pretty woman turned around and smiled when she saw Maddie. She didn't look like she got much more sleep than her husband did. They both looked exhausted, but Mrs. Harris had her hair brushed. That was more than her husband could say.

"Oh, good afternoon Maddie," she said retaining her smile. "I've missed seeing you in class."

"I know," Maddie said. "Your class was awesome. I'll try to pick one of your other classes next semester. I'm taking Philosophy 101 with your husband though."

"How do you like it?"

"So far, so good," Maddie said. She wasn't lying. The class was still in its infancy, but she thought she liked psychology more. "I was wondering if you watched the news this morning with him. I wanted to know what he thought about the shooting and the FBI agents going missing and stuff."

Mrs. Harris broke eye contact. Maddie didn't know if she was trying to find the words, but Maddie didn't think she watched the news with her husband. She didn't need Mrs. Harris to tell her that.

"We didn't watch it together," she finally said. "We don't watch TV together that often since he leaves so early every day, but I heard about it later. It's awful what happened. I feel so sorry for the family with the little boy. I can't imagine losing a child like that."

"And then the kid's big brother was the Tongue Ripper guy," Maddie added. It wasn't uncommon for the serial killers to have siblings. It was uncommon for the younger brother of a serial killer to be murdered by another serial killer. "I guess I'll have to ask Mr. Harris tomorrow."

"Why couldn't you just ask him during class? It would probably be an interesting discussion for all of the students," Mrs. Harris said.

"He didn't take any questions during the lecture today," Maddie said. She had a million questions about what he was teaching that day and about the Tongue Ripper, but she didn't get to ask any of them. Her mother always thought she could make a living out of being a reporter. She always had questions to ask, but she didn't like being in front of the camera that much. She would rather be a profiler or somebody working in criminal justice. She wanted to lock up the bastards that hurt children.

"I'll ask him about that when I see him then," Mrs. Harris said. "I know that he does get really busy during the day. He rarely has any time for himself. I'm hoping we can take a long vacation somewhere once we get to spring break. God knows I need it."

"I think everyone wants to go on a vacation," Maddie said. "Thanks for talking to me Mrs. Harris. I really did miss you over winter holidays."

Maddie turned around to read for a little while longer when Mrs. Harris cleared her throat. Maddie turned around, expecting some light hearted joke to end the conversation, but her former teacher looked serious. "I will tell you something about the shootings last night."

"What?" Maddie asked. She stepped forward so Mrs. Harris wouldn't have to raise her voice.

"Adam Blackwell, the Tongue Ripper suspect who was killed last night…He was a former student of mine," she said quietly. "I had him last semester. He wasn't in your class, and I probably wouldn't have remembered him except for he let me borrow one of his books. I never finished it. I didn't like it which is rare. I like almost every book I read in some weird way, but not this one. Nick said we could go this weekend to Adam's neighborhood to return the book. I guess we won't be going now."

"You had a serial killer in your class?" Maddie asked loudly enough to get other students to turn and look at her. She didn't care.

"He wasn't killing anyone when he was in my class," she quickly said. "At least, I don't think he was. He was just one of those quiet kids that you forget about. I probably would have if he didn't loan me that book. I don't know what we are going to do with it. I don't want it anymore, and I wouldn't feel comfortable returning that to his mother."

"Could I look at it?" Maddie asked.

Mrs. Harris got quiet again, but she didn't break eye contact. "It's not a very factual book. It's dark which doesn't seem surprising now that we know what Adam Blackwell was into."

"Is the book about death?"

Mrs. Harris looked uncomfortable, and Maddie felt bad for pressuring her. "It's about religion if God was out to get vengeance against all of us. I know you're an adult, but I don't want you reading it. I don't want anybody reading it. I think I'm just going to burn it in the fireplace tonight."

Maddie wanted to read that book more than ever now, but it wasn't fair to put Mrs. Harris in this situation so Maddie let the subject drop. "I hope the rest of your day goes good."

"Thank you Maddie," Mrs. Harris said kindly. She put the book she was holding back on the shelf, and left without another word. Her former teacher was a gentle soul. Maddie could tell that much, but just because Mrs. Harris wouldn't let her borrow that book, it didn't mean Maddie couldn't find it herself.

Maddie kept the novel she picked out earlier, but didn't sit back down to read it. She wandered over to the section of the books about religion. She was determined to read the book that Adam Blackwell lent to Mrs. Harris. She didn't care about how disturbing it might be. The book could offer some insight into his confused and twisted mind that led him to kill.


Nick couldn't get home fast enough. He was delayed for a few minutes when one of his students wanted to talk about an upcoming project, but he shut them up as quickly as he could. He didn't want to talk about projects, and he didn't want to run into his wife. He heard that Abby was on campus, and with his luck, he would run right into her and she'd want to talk about a fun weekend. Weekends were never fun with her. He didn't care how hard she tried. It was never going to be lovey dovey between them. He appreciated her effort, but it was fruitless. He made it to his car without further incident, and just like he was told, his wife was there. She had the nerve to park right next to him in the parking lot. She wasn't in the car, thank God, but her car looked shinier than his. The red paint on her car made Nick's car seem like nothing more than a shadow. He needed to get his car washed too.

If anyone asked him later, he wouldn't remember his ride back home. He had the radio on, and switched stations whenever a commercial came on, but he didn't listen to a single song. He didn't care. His thoughts were consumed on the young man trapped in his attic. He did wish it was Saturday just so he could spend all day really understanding the kind of person Reid was. What did he think about when he was alone? His career? His mother? His books? What was he really afraid of? Nick was sure that he murdered J.J. in front of Reid, the agent would never mentally recover so that was one of Agent Reid's fears. Nick had no plans on killing J.J. that day. He would eventually, but it wouldn't be today. He didn't believe J.J. was any kind of real threat to his quest. She was tied up, and he would probably be able to get Agent Reid to do what he wanted if he was afraid J.J. would get hurt.

He didn't park his car in the garage when he got home. He didn't want the long walk from the garages to the house so he pulled right up front. Could the agents hear his car? The window in the attic wasn't open, but with the house being quiet, it was very likely they heard him turn his engine off. They probably knew he was back. He unlocked the front door and threw his school bag in the living room. All he needed from school was already in his hand. He was rarely without his phone. He went into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of lemonade, and sat down to review the security footage from that day. The property was so large that they needed surveillance cameras. Abby even wanted to get a guard of some sort so watch the property while they were away or asleep, but Nick convinced her that cameras would do the job. He had cameras planted at the front gate, all sides of the house, the swimming pool, the garden, and he had a few inside the house itself. The only footage he was really interested in reviewing was the camera planted in the attic.

Nick sat down in his favorite armchair to review the footage. The camera was placed just to the side of the little window. It wasn't big enough to draw their attention, but he wasn't dealing with an average citizen. The two people he abducted were smart enough to discover clues that most people would just ignore. He would be surprised if they didn't find the camera yet. He took a big sip when the footage started rolling, and while it was interesting to watch his captives talk to each other, he couldn't hear a damn word they were saying. The video cameras he purchased didn't come with sound. He was going to have to make another trip to the store after work tomorrow. He wanted to know what they were talking about. He needed to know what they were saving. Since their lives were in his hands, everything they said to one another became his business. He would let them keep their secrets for another night. After that, anything they talked about would be used against them. He would make sure of that.

The hidden video camera didn't reveal all that much. It was mostly just the two agents talking to each other, but about halfway through the footage, Reid found the camera. He looked right at it for a full minute, and then he nudged J.J. a little to show her. It would change their behavior somewhat now that they knew they were being watched. Reid probably knew that the camera didn't have sound, but he would know for sure when Nick replaced it. Their conversation didn't cease after the discovery of the camera. He was sure that they had a lot to say. This was their first night in the makeshift prison, but he didn't think their talking would go on much longer. He wasn't planning on giving them any water until they absolutely needed it, and food wasn't on the schedule at all. They were going to have to earn that. Without the energy from food, they would just get weaker and weaker. Talking would no longer be their priority. Staying alive would be the only thought that consumed their minds.

He turned the footage off, set his empty lemonade glass down, and checked Critter's food bowl. It looked untouched. He was so used to filling it back up whenever he got home from work. It was possible that Abby filled it up before she left, but that seemed unlikely. Nick shrugged it off. His cat would eat when she got hungry. He walked over to the pantry, and got on his knees to find where he hid the supplies he needed for the agents. Abby never went snooping around in the pantry. It was true that she liked to cook, but all of her ingredients were all the shelves easiest for to access. She was never a huge fan of getting on her knees so he knew his secret would be safe there. He found the needle that he was keeping for J.J. untouched in a baggie. The vile of liquid was still right next to it. He whistled as he filled the shot with the liquid, and he safely put it back in the baggie. He wasn't a doctor so he didn't know exactly how long the deadly fluid would start taking effect on her, but hopefully it would be soon. What was Reid going to do when he found out his friend was dying? He wouldn't be able to help her or relieve any pain that she would be going through. All he would be able to do is watch. And cry.

Nick found his baseball bat where he left it by the staircase, and took a deep breath. It was finally time to see his agents. He took the elevator after he got up the staircase. He didn't feel like walking up another staircase after the first. That would just be wasting time, and he didn't need to burn any more calories. He was in pretty good shape as it was. The elevator ride was a short one, and he resisted the urge to pop in his study when he walked by. He usually went there after a long day at work. It was the perfect place to quiet in his mind. He liked to be alone with his books. They gave him the comfort that his wife never could, but he didn't need them now. He had Reid waiting for him. That's all he needed.

The door to the bedroom creaked loudly when he opened it. When he returned tomorrow with the new video camera, he would get the damn door fixed. He wanted the element of surprise, but he would never get that if the door continued to sing the song of its people whenever he turned the nob. He looked down at the twin sized bed waiting so patiently for a guest to rest their weary head. The dark blue comforter on top looked inviting, and the sheets were freshly washed. He really hoped that one day Agent Reid would be able to use it. He would unlock the bathroom door so Reid could shower, and he was sure the young man would like to look out the window. Nick was quite proud of the condition of his property, and his front yard belonged on the cover of some magazine. He had gardeners come by once week to maintain it, but Nick liked to sit out there and read when the weather permitted it. Reid would never be able to do that, but the agent could dream about reading in the sun again. Nick wasn't against bringing books to Reid if the agents behaved. Books couldn't be used as a weapon, and Nick wanted people to learn something new every day. Just because their bodies were locked up didn't mean their minds couldn't escape somewhere else pleasant.

He picked up the rope he left on the floor near the bed, and opened the door that led to the attic. This door didn't creak like the other one, but the agents already knew he was there. He swung the rope over his shoulder, and walked up the stairs taking one step at a time. There was no hurry. He wasn't the least bit tired, and his wife wasn't supposed to come home until after dinner time. He had all the time in the world. He unlocked the door at the top of the staircase, and casually pushed the door open. It didn't squeak, but the agents remained quiet. He followed the path he created for himself with the boxes, and made his way deeper into the attic where Reid was waiting for him.

"Good afternoon agents," he said with a smile when he finally saw them again.

Little changed since he saw them last. Reid's right foot, the one without the protection of the sock, had swelled a lot more during the night. The bruising was a dark shade of red mixed with a bit of purple, and his poor toes looked almost blue. He wasn't going to be able to walk on that for a while. Other than that, they looked the same. Their hair was disheveled, and the clothes they were wearing looked dirty from twisting around in the dirty attic all night. Nick couldn't remember the last time the attic was cleaned. He wondered what kind of goodies he could find in those boxes. He could be storing some priceless gems up there and he'd have no idea.

"You need to let us go," J.J. said with authority in her voice. It's funny how she could sound so serious while being chained to a pipe in a stranger's attic. He was the one in control, not her.

"You've been missing for almost 24 hours, and that's all you can tell me?" Nick asked. "I'm a little bit disappointed in you. I thought you would offer more conversation than just begging for freedom."

"You never told us what you wanted," Reid said quietly.

Nick got on his knees in front of Reid. The agent never broke eye contact. Nick liked that. He wanted to see Reid's bravery so when the bravery was finally broken, Nick would know. "I just want you," Nick replied. "You are going to listen to every word I tell you from now on."

"Or what?" J.J. asked.

"Or I'll shoot your brains out," Nick said quickly. He was getting really sick of her attitude. Life would be so much easier if she was gone. "I'll dump your bodies where I killed that kid, and you will rot. Want that? I didn't bring the gun with me, but its right downstairs. Want me to grab it?"

Neither agent said anything. "I want to be nice to you. I really you, but your continuous fighting with me is making that difficult. You've already sealed your fate about getting water today, and you probably won't get any tomorrow either. You only have yourselves to blame. We have a few things to get done today though. Are you going to listen or cause more problems?"

"You don't have to do whatever you are planning," Reid said. The eye contact was finally broken. He could tell that the pretty boy didn't like Nick to be that close to him. "If you want to talk, why can't we just talk? We can talk about whatever you want to."

That brought a smile to Nick's face. It felt good to smile again. He knew that taking Reid was a good idea. He didn't regret a single thing. "We will talk after we get this little errand done. It will only take a few minutes." The agents weren't going to like what he was planning, but it had to be done. "I have another needle in my pocket. If either one of you try something, guess where the needle is going?"

Reid instinctively scooted closer to J.J. Nick liked how close they were to each other. That was just going to make his job easier. "First things first, getting rid of the socks. I know that the attic gets drafty at night, but I've always liked to look at feet. I rarely wear socks when I'm inside, and so that is what I am getting rid of first. Like I said before, if either one of you kick or struggle, you will not like the consequences."

Nick turned to J.J. He didn't care much about her feet, but he knew how uncomfortable she would be without the warm socks on her feet. Her socks matched. He cautiously put his hand on her right foot. He wasn't positive that she was going to heed his warnings, but she didn't kick. She didn't try to scoot away and she didn't pull her feet back. He put his hand on the top of her sock, and pulled it off in one swift movement. Her small feet were well taken care of. They were soft to the touch, but she bent her toes when he tried to touch them. He didn't care that much. He repeated the action with the other foot, and threw both socks over the boxes.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Nick said. J.J. didn't reply. He turned his attention back towards Reid. Like his friend, Reid has his feet facing Nick. Nick felt awful for what he did to Reid's feet, but the right one really was worse than the left. From what he could tell, the left had minimal swelling. He walked his fingers up Reid's purple striped sock, and stopped just below his pants. He didn't pull the purple striped sock right away like he did with the woman. Reid's skin felt warm underneath his touch, and he dared to venture up even further on Reid's left leg.

"What are you doing?" J.J. asked.

Nick stopped. He didn't want to, but he stopped. He put his hand back on the top of Reid's sock, and pulled it off. He threw it somewhere near where J.J.'s socks landed. How much further would he have gone if that bitch didn't interrupt him? Reid's left foot didn't have much bruising, but the brick did break the skin. There were numerous cuts on Reid's foot and toes.

"Next piece of business is your pants," Nick said. His heart started pounding. Reid wasn't going to be able to stop him, but Nick had to be patient. "I'm planning on bringing blankets up here, but your pants have to go. There's going to be no arguments and no negations. All clothing is doing is hiding the bodies that you were given at birth. I can understand why human beings feel the need to cover up while walking around in public, but there is no shame here. There will be some initial fear, but you will grow used to it. I can't take your shirts with your arms behind your back, but everything else I'm taking."

"Clothing is also protecting our bodies from the pieces of wood sticking out from the uneven floor," Reid said quickly licking his lips. Nick loved that little habit he had. "Many types of dirt hold different kinds of bacteria, and if that bacteria gets into an open wound, it can spread quickly and become infected."

"I know how it works Dr. Reid," Nick said. "I also know what was in that shot I gave J.J. yesterday. Anymore questions?"

Once again, he had the agents silent. He turned back to J.J. It was easier to get her out of the way first. He put his hands on the buckle on her black pants. Her body felt tense, but she should have known by then that he wasn't interested in her. He was just doing this to make Reid feel more comfortable. "If you try anything, you will regret it," he warned her. Her unbuckled the pants, and pulled the zipper down. It was going to be harder to get the clothing off with her sitting down, but he would find a way. He went down to her ankles, and pulled from there. He'd rather not touch her if he had a choice. To his surprise, she lifted herself and the pants came off smoothly.

"Please don't take her underpants," Reid said. J.J. was wearing a black pair of underpants that her husband probably wasn't a fan of. They weren't lacy or high cut. They were the plainest pair of panties that Nick had ever seen.

"She might be able to earn them back, but for now, she doesn't need them," Nick said. "I don't know why people are so obsessed with covering themselves up. Animals don't go around covering themselves up. That's only an invention of mankind, and it's not something I'm fond of. The human body is a work of art that is constantly astounding me. I like to look at it."

Nick got on his knees and put his hands on her underwear. As much as he hated this, it needed to be done. He guided the underpants down her legs, and as soon as they were over her feet, he threw them over the boxes. He didn't care what she looked like so he turned back to Reid. The boy genius didn't look as confident as J.J. did when she was face to face with Nick. He was scared.

Nick scooted over to Reid's side as he unbuckled the pair of slacks, and when he pulled down the zipper, his fingers brushed over Reid's member. It only lasted for a second, but Nick felt like exploding in his pants. Nick took a firm hold of Reid's slacks and pulled them down Reid's long legs, not showing the same kind of respect he gave for J.J. He just couldn't wait to see Reid. To really see Reid. Reid cried out because Nick forgot to be gentle when the pants ran over Reid's feet. The pain didn't last long or at least Nick didn't think it did. He was distracted when he saw Spencer Reid trembling in front of him wearing little more than a pair of light blue boxers.

He could barely contain himself when he wrapped his fingers around the rim of the boxers. Reid wasn't fighting him. Reid was shaking, but he was accepting his fate. Everything was perfect. Nick took a deep breath when he took off the boxers, and he took care when the shorts went over Reid's legs. Reid lifted one leg at a time, and when the blue boxers were free from their wearer, Nick didn't throw them. He wanted to keep them. He wanted to sleep with them. It would be a while until Reid could join him in bed so the light blue boxers were going to have to do.

Reid pulled his legs up as soon as he could. Nick barely got a glance at the young man that he waited so long for. He grabbed the ropes from his shoulder, and roughly pulled Reid's legs back down. Reid hissed in pain while Nick held his ankles together. He tied them as tight as he could. He wasn't going to have them tied up for long. He didn't like Reid's legs so close together, but he needed to get this done. He found the brick that he left up there from yesterday and placed it underneath Reid's feet.

"You said you wouldn't do anything if we didn't fight you!" J.J. shouted. "What are you doing?"

"Last thing on my list," Nick mumbled. He turned around and grabbed the baseball bat he left on one of the boxes. He bit his lip when he swung the bat. Nick wasn't a sporty kind of a guy. He never understood ball games or the thrill in watching a group of people chasing each other in a big field, but he did know where he wanted the bat to land. He had to bend over to hit the right spot, but the bat hit Reid on top of his right knee. Nick didn't wait for Reid to react. He raised the bat up, and slammed the weapon down on Reid's kneecap again. And again. And again. He would have done it a fifth time, but Reid's body had curled over in a fetal position and the poor guy was screaming in pure agony. Nick put down the baseball bat, and sighed in relief. It was done. When he looked at the damage to Reid's knee, he was shocked. He didn't know there would be that much blood. J.J. was trying to get to him, but Nick barely noticed her. All he could concentrate on was the pained cries coming from Spencer Reid. It made him smile.

hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! told u its getting bloodier and I plan on starting the next chapter tomorrow. lemme know how everyone likes this chapter. who are your favorite characters? plz don't forget to review! till next time! xoxoxo