Title: Blackjack

Author: Kuria Dalmatia

Rating/Warnings: FRM, R (profanity, graphic violence, adult content, torture, profanity, mention of child abuse, frank discussion of bodily functions)

Pairing: Hotch, Reid and the BAU

Summary: Aaron isn't sure what is worse: being held hostage naked in a basement while being subjected to beatings, or having Spencer dissect his failed marriage in horrifying detail.

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer and comments

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Aaron decides to count that last beating as beating Number Eight. No. Wait... It is Number Nine. His count is off by one because he didn't include being doused with the buckets of water. Okay. Wait. There was the second time with the electrical cord.

That last one was actually Number Fifteen, Spencer corrects. The first two were with the belt, the next two were with the electrical cord, Number Five was the bamboo, Six the switchblade cutting your clothing off, Seven the switchblade nicking you, Eight the slaps, Nine the bleach water, Ten and Eleven the bamboo. Twelve, the sips of water. Thirteen, the number of times you swallowed while drinking the water and, yes, he was totally counting. Fourteen and Fifteen, bamboo.

Aaron hopes the UnSub has the same count. He doesn't know if he'll survive to Number Twenty-One.

You will, Spencer says adamantly. He obviously omits the part about just what the UnSub will do when he hits Twenty-One.

Blackjack.

Jack.

You won't abandon him, Spencer shouts. You won't.

I can't, Aaron whispers back.

Good. Spencer sounds pleased before turning serious again. I know the hits are painful, but he's not exerting a lot of force. Maybe because he can't. If he could... well... you'd be in worse shape. But I believe that the UnSub doesn't have the upper body strength. You're right. He's young. Younger than me.

Mucus cakes Aaron's nostrils and makes his breathing more labored. It's a bitch to clear his throat. His right arm steadily throbs and he can't move his fingers. He's not sure if it's because his shoulder is dislocated or his arm is broken because the UnSub decided to focus on his right side that last time.

You're left-handed, Spencer reminds him calmly. Hotch, we just need more time. Think. THINK. I knew exactly when those cameras were on when Tobias held me hostage. Why do you think I called you a narcissist? I knew you would understand. We have history, Hotch. History. Now, I need you to give us a clue.

But he can't. The UnSub made sure of it.

Aaron shivers because he's cold, realizing that his shirts have been removed. He's just wearing his shoes and socks.

At least you're still wearing a suit, Spencer declares with amusement. Er. Your BIRTHDAY suit!

Not funny, Spencer, Aaron shoots back.

But Spencer has already changed topics. Wonder why the UnSub insisted on your right side? In fact, why does he always start with your right side?

He's left-handed, he answers without hesitation. The UnSub comes from a strict Roman Catholic family, probably ones who don't recognize Vatican II and who still attend Mass in Latin. It wasn't until the late 1960's that the stigma of being left-handed began dying down. Those who were left-handed were considered agents of the Devil. Still, if you attended a parochial school, you were strongly encouraged to be right-handed. He doesn't add just how strongly.

Hotch? Spencer asks worriedly.

I hate wooden rulers, Aaron states flatly and tries to stuff the images of his mother and Sister Gregory back into the little box from whence they came.

Thankfully, Spencer is silent.

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