Trap

A/N: Please beware; once again this fiction might contain very slight hardly noticeable slashy undertones. Read at your own risk!

Sacred cows make the best hamburger: - Mark Twain

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.


"Aaron." Floyd's voice was husky and dark. "We need to find Spence. You have to stop seducing me like this." Floyd looked down into the far away eyes of Hotch and grinned a big toothy blood smeared smile on the outside and a small spiteful smirk on the inside. Blood was still dripping out of his nose as he moved back and straddled the man he had emotionally raped on the beach in the moonlight and tipped his head back. He moaned softly and sighed happily at the feeling of the blood running down the back of his throat. With great reluctance he put thumb and finger to the bridge of his nose and held.

How many times had he been told this was not the way to stop a nose bleed and how many times had he tried to explain that this was not blood coming from his nose. Well yes it is coming from his nose. A hand played over Aaron's stomach as he thought. It exits via his nose, but it doesn't originate from there. People don't wish to understand. He took his fingers from the bridge of his nose and ran them over a small indent on his hairline and then looked down at Aaron who had placed his hand over his own as it drew circles on his abdomen.

"Did you say something?" Hotch's voice sounded faint and distant.

"Spencer. We need to find him."

Floyd pulled away from Hotch and stood putting a hand out to the mad laying shaking on the stony beach. Hotch put out a hand and grasped Floyd's tightly as he climbed back onto his feet.

"What? .." Aaron shook his head trying to rid his mind of the confusing thought rattling around in it.

"Spence. We are wasting time."

They walked in silence – Aaron trying to get to grips with what had gone on back there on the beach, and Floyd taking in the air and thus tracking down where 'they' had taken Reid. The journey eventually saw them standing at the mouth of a very small cave entrance. To Aaron the next step seemed obvious. They now had to get into the cave and find Spencer, though from here it didn't look like the cave went back for very far. For Floyd things couldn't have felt more different. Something was messing with his senses. Something was playing with him and he didn't like it. Almost as though some of his self control was being licked away and right now self control was the only thing stopping him from raping Aaron and leaving his blooded beaten body to the crows.

"We need to hurry." His words didn't feel right in his mouth. They fell out as the words often did when what he was saying was not the truth. "Agent Aaron Hotchner?" He found he was turning to Aaron and seeing him again through the eyes of lust and need. "Quickly." Deep hard breaths pulling in the flavours of the sea air and pushing the animal back into its cage.

Hotch had noticed that Floyd had been acting strangely but he hadn't been behaving in a very Floydian manner for a while, so this was just another twist. Aaron was still learning to get used to these things. It had taken Reid years to get where he was and he had only been getting close to Flanders for a few months. Though it felt like he had known him for many life times. He let Floyd take the lead and walk in to the cave. Hotch had the flashlight and swung it around the small area once they were both inside. Now here it was obvious that there was more to this small place than met the eye.

Flanders walked quickly to the rear of the cave and put fingers to the wall and then down to the floor. At the back there seemed to be three different ways they could go. To each Floyd went and tasted the earth and touched the rocks and breathed in the air.

Without a word he turn and indicated the left hand passage and then started to walk down it. Even to Hotch's untrained – in tracking something you neither see hear or smell – eye he could tell they had come this way. They passage was well travelled. There were obvious marks and scrapings on the rock to tell them that people had come this way. When finally it opened up into a wider tunnel Floyd stopped dead in his tracks.

A quiet voice. "There is something not right about this. The smells… there is something wrong about the smells."

Hotch came to stand by Floyd and he too could smell something odd. "What is that smell? Bats?" It was so strong it was threatening to make Aaron's dark eyes water.

"Piss."

"What?"

"No the smell. It's urine. Human and not fresh." Floyd put the back of his hand to his nose. "Sometimes this is used to put off tracking by smell, but – why would that be here?" He moved forwards a bit more. "There are other smells too. I am having a problem deciphering them." He crouched and put his fingers to the flood. "Spence was here. I can smell his blood, but this dampness is where the smell is coming from." He stood and walked beyond where Spencer had been soaked and stood looking at the two tunnels he now had a choice to make.

He looked back at Hotch and felt a vile twisting in his stomach. Something was really trying to distract him here and he wasn't going to let it win. "I can smell him from this way – but the other way there is something too, I just don't know what it is."

"What sort of smell? Blood? Sweat? Just him? Elucidate for me."

"All – even fear – but there is something the other way too, but I cannot – Agent Aaron Hotchner – don't stand in my pocket, keep away." He hissed back at Hotch and gave him a shove with a hand which really wanted to hold him and run it fingers through his hair and – "Sod it." He turned back to Hotch. "I am going to give you a warning Aaron. I am finding my self control very fragile right now. This isn't coming naturally to me - I know I am being played with and that is the only reason you are not being buggered by me right now. Keep back. I need to find Spencer and you are so very distracting!"

Hotch didn't fully understand what Floyd was getting at, but kept back anyway. Avoiding Floyd when he was on that line between normal behaviour and being the psychopath they always thought of him as was the best thing to do, but he needed to be there to help find Spencer. Not the most comfortable position to be in.

Floyd could smell the blood and he could smell the sweat and so this was the way he decided to go for now. If this was a false trail he would soon know. He kept close to the edges of the tunnel and Hotch behind him walked down the middle shining the light down in front of them. There was nothing. The tunnel turned and it twisted and the smell to Floyd was just as strong but he was losing his focus and thinking about the person walking behind him, who for some reason was causing problems today. Was it because he had spent time with the whore? He suspected it was – his body just needed to adapt back again. In future he knew – he knew it already but the lesson had been forgotten – to keep well away from whores. All women were whores and bitches. He was grinding his teeth together and muttering about whores when a sudden yelp and howl of pain from behind him made him turn.

The light from the flashlight has disappeared and Floyd could hear Aaron's moans of pain. Slowly Floyd walked forwards and saw the light from down a pit.

"You fell down a fucking pit? You stupid sonofabitch!"

Aaron wasn't sure what was happening, one minute he as watching the way Floyd moved in those low cut jeans and the way his shoulders fitted that grubby shirt and looking at the way the waistcoat did up at the back and then the floor opened up under him.

Had it just been a fall it wouldn't have been so bad, but as he lay there at the bottom of the pit he could feel something warm and wet soaking up into his legs and abdomen. He tried to move and then the pain hit.

Flanders could see in the odd light down the pit the blood spreading out under Hotch's hips and his legs and he could see the long spikes pushed up through his body. He sat on the edge of the pit and lowered himself down. "You are bloody – hell – I don't know if there is a word for this!" Floyd ran his fingers over the spikes sticking through Aaron and could feel the slick blood tormenting him.

"You're bleeding." He whispered. "A lot." He moved down so he was kneeling by Aaron's head. "Don't move."

"Hardly." It hurt to talk. Hotch bit onto his bottom lip and tried not to cry out in pain as Floyd moved back down again and investigated the wounds better with the torch.

"Through your thigh. Outer edge. I think that one will be good." A mumbled sound as a reply. "The other is through the skin on the side of your ribs. It hasn't hit internal organs. Aaron – I need to pull your off them. The one in your leg is about six inches through. The one in your side is a bit longer. Penknife."

Again a mumble as a reply.

"I need a penknife. Something I can cut with. They are wooden spikes. I need to cut it down a bit then I will just hoik you off it."

"Don't have one."

"No worries."

Floyd leaned over the spike sticking out of the back of Aaron's leg. This was going to cause him major problems, but he had no over choice. He couldn't leave him here. He needed him on side. He lowered his head trying not to breath in the smell of Aaron's delicious blood. He ran his tongue slowly over the spike and then down to Hotch's leg. "I need to – erm – clean it." He could feel his breathing getting heavier as he cleaned the blood away with his mouth and tongue and lips. Once done, he lowered his mouth over the spike. "Oh god." He muttered to himself. One hand on either side of the spike which was sliding down over his tongue. He gripped it with his sharp teeth and bit. He bit down hard.

Hotch wasn't sure what the hell Floyd was doing to him, but it had a very sensual feeling to it. He was in so much pain he wanted to scream out, but still what Flanders was doing with that mouth of his was over riding those feelings. He could smell the sudden wafts of whatever it was Floyd's body released at times like this and he could hear the heavy breathing and feel the fingers digging into the back of his leg.

The action was repeated on the other spike. The mouth the lips the tongue lapping at the blood and moving over the skin. Hotch was sure the spike was not that close to his spine, but Floyd seemed especially interested in that part of Hotch's body – that little part of his back where his back dipped slightly. He could feel Flanders hands moving over his back and his hair tickling.

"I can't move you yet. We need to wait for the bleeding to slow down. There is a risk that I will eventually just drink you to death." Floyd liked that idea but this was not where he would choose to carry out that little pleasure.

"Go and find Reid."

"NO no no…I wont leave you. I will get you off the spikes first at least." He lay down on the floor at the bottom of the pit next to Aaron. "I will wait."

"Please – go and find him Floyd. We don't have time for this."

"Hush. Just lay still and quiet. Then we will get Spencer."

Floyd lay on his side down the pit and smiled at the trapped rabbit in the snare. What a lovely sight. How could this evening get any better?

…………………………..

He woke up when the cage door was opened and he fell forwards onto his face. He made a small squeak of surprise and a longer moan of extreme pain.

"Get up."

Spencer pushed himself up to his knees and then shakily got to his feet. He was swaying and the pain he was in was unbelievable. He wanted water to sooth his throat. He needed to do something with the pain in his abdomen and down into his groin and no his lower back too. He moaned and tried to fold himself up into a ball on the floor. His skin was dry and hot and his vision blurry but he could still smell the stench of both what they had poured over him and what he had been standing in. A thick leather collar was put around his neck and fastened at the back. His hands were tied in front of him.

"This way." A push and he was walking trying to bend over and relieve some of the pain he was in. It felt like he had been kicked repeatedly between the legs. Maybe he had. It was probably from the stoning. He couldn't remember now. They pushed and pulled him over to where the dolls stood. Now he could see then closer he could see they were very old. Ancient things. They couldn't have been made by Floyd they were much too old. He tried to figure out what the connection might be as he felt them turn him to face away from the wall. They pulled something down from the ceiling and attached it to the back of the collar. He was then hoisted up so he still had his feet on the ground but he couldn't curl into the pain.

"Spencer." Fingers under his chin to lift his face up. "I am very disappointed. This is not the result we had been hoping for, but all is not lost."

He didn't say anything. He couldn't. His throat would no longer allow words.

"You not feeling too well Spencer?"

He blinked.

"Well that is the reason you are such a disappointment. Listen to this."

Reid just stared at him.

"You will need garlic and ginger paste some vinegar a bit of chopped fenugreek a pinch of salt a pinch of pepper, some garam masala, coriander and obviously chopped chillies. You grind it all together with the ground meat and let is marinade for half an hour. You then shape it into tubes and grill for about fifteen minutes – remembering to turn so it browns evenly oh and brush with oil. Sound nice?"

Reid blinked again.

"But – here is the problem Spencer." Reid could feel a hand undoing his belt and unfastening the top button on his trousers. "The problem is that you are not well are you? So – we can't use you. Well not for that, but the dolls here, they are old and somewhat shabby. They need replacing. It wont matter if we used some vile diseased creature for that. Actually it would be a better ending for you don't you think? You will be horrifying people and repulsing visitors for eternity. Much better than a quick Reshmi Kabab. What do you say? Well probably not much. Sore throat. Pains where you shouldn't have them. Nasty very nasty, and avoidable."

He turned away from Reid who was trying to let all this information form sense in his mind.

"Strip him and prepare him. I thinkit will likeits modesty kept. That is fine with me. I don't want to see what this foul disease has done toits body anyway. Make sure you wash it and oil it. Do not give it food or water. The more dehydrated the better."

One more look back at Spencer and he was gone.

Reid stood swaying by the collar around his neck and felt them remove his trousers and socks. He was shivering and shaking, if through shock or cold or because he was ill, he didn't know.

He just knew that right now would be a brilliant time for Floyd to arrive.