Disclaimer: I do not own anything Criminal Minds related. Characters are merely borrowed and will be put back later. ;)

A/N: Please have some patience with this. It all takes place over about eight or nine minutes. :D And sorry for the Cliffhanger... ;)

And the second part is coming up tomorrow. :) And some of this is taken directly from "I Swear", one of my oneshots. That's the story this one is inspired by, and so it seems fitting to recall it a bit.

Suffer and Save

Chapter Nine- Suffer and Save

"Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he is afraid of losing you."

Anonymous

Everything was going in slow motion, as far as Hotch was concerned. There was just no way he could get there any faster; and yet more speed was what he wanted most in the world at right that moment. He pushed the SUV across the tarmac roads and forced the vehicle to its limits. Rossi sat in the passenger seat, but said nothing about the manic driving. In truth he knew that if it were him, he too would be going that fast. Morgan followed in the other SUV, with Reid hanging on for dear life in the front seat.

***

Emily was just not sure how much longer she could hang on. It had been three days from hell. Every last second of the last few hours had been just monstrous. She wasn't sure what was left to give. He had beaten her, thumped her with his boots, refused her food and given her only water, tied her to the ceiling and started that awful cycle all over again. Her neck was bruised and her back was burning. Her arms throbbed painfully, and her legs were cut. She was past the point of crying- something Randolph had seen many times before- but she was still fighting him off, albeit only generically. That he had not seen before.

She was exceptionally good at keeping her grip on reality. In the past, the women had gone mad, frothed at the mouth and hallucinated. She had hung on until right this moment, and he was strongly considering that this was to be the end of the line for her.

He was bored of her. She didn't fit the bill. Causing her pain was one thing- but she hadn't torn herself apart like the other women had; like his mother had. It was time to be rid of her, once and for all.

He pulled her to her feet once more, noting the blood on her face, the torn and bloody dress he had given her to wear, the bruising on her arms and shoulders from where his blows had rained down just hours before. She was barely able to hang on when he stood her up. She was nauseous and dizzy; the past day had been a horror story of dry retching and ravenous hunger.

But there was no way she was going to let him win; never give up.

Still, there was a nagging thought in her head that perhaps they would never find her. Perhaps she would never see him again. She could barely remember what it felt like to be safe, away from harm, warm and dry. She was always cold here. Her feet were cut and calloused, her eyes were heavy, and her entire body felt sometimes as though it were ice, and others she could have sworn she was on fire.

All she wanted in her heart was to have him hold her, kiss her, tell her it was going to be alright.

But in her head, she despaired. Even if he found her, he wouldn't want her. Not like this.

Her legs dangled uselessly and she coughed sporadically as Randolph tried to make her stand. They had been through this many times even in the last ten hours. Emily was just too tired to hang on much longer. She had been coughing blood for about five hours now. Finally, he made her stand on her own two feet, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she shuddered helplessly in the cold.

And that's when she heard the crude flick of his belt. It was slower this time; not angry.

Oh God.

***

Hotch's SUV screeched to a halt about five metres from the front door of the hotel. He was out of the car within seconds, and he and Rossi were both moving toward the hotel. They had some research from Garcia. The hotel had over 200 rooms. The job in front of them was horrifically long; they would have to check everywhere.

Which was why, when he broke through the door and tried to turn on a light switch, the electricity flickered once or twice, but then failed. They would have to work in the darkness of a hotel that had never been top of the range anyway. The halls were dark and windowless, the rooms practically as dark because of the grime and dirt of the building generally.

Morgan and Reid ran toward them and they started their walk through the foyer as a team, never knowing where Randolph might be- and not wanting to shock him into killing Emily either- which was what might happen if they called out.

Hotch indicated that they would split up, when they were finished in the foyer. Hotch himself would cover the rooms on the ground floor, because there were, according to Garcia, fewer of them. Rossi would go through the second and third floors with Reid- and Morgan was to go through the kitchen, dining area, and any sheds or yards he would find as he went through the hotel. They were each in contact by earpiece, and though they were outwardly calm, they were all privately terrified that they would be too late.

***

JJ and Garcia were driving through the streets in a panic, determined to get there and help as best they could. Garcia had plans of the hotel and she knew that the job the team faced with just four people was a nightmare scenario and they were at a huge disadvantage. Some members of the police force were at work, but in truth it was too early to have enough backup for the BAU. They were alone.

JJ spurned the car on, trying not to think about what might lie in wait.

***

Emily shuddered to herself miserably. There was no way she could fight him off. She was feeling drowsy and ill; she could smell him because he was so close to her now. She barely noticed when her legs gave out from underneath her and she fell to the floor. This alone was something she couldn't take.

She had been expecting the blows to rain down on her for falling over- but instead Randolph lowered himself to the floor on his haunches and smiled crudely at her. It took him a small amount of effort to push her over and then his hands were on her legs, trying to force them apart. Despite her struggles, she couldn't stop him. She found her voice, something she had been missing for what felt like weeks, and she screamed and bellowed at him, trying to beat him away from her.

But she wasn't able to. He was too strong.

***

Hotch threw open door after door on the ground floor, and before long he had a system going by which he would make a quick sweep and leave again. It was evident that Emily was not in any of the rooms he was searching. They were much too dirty and battered- too dusty and not recently used or even opened. Most of the doors squealed and most of the windows were so black that he couldn't see save for his torch. Stumbling through halls in the darkness, he heard something, and he moved toward it.

***

Rossi called out to Reid when he was about halfway across the second floor rooms. Reid came running up the hall as soon as he heard and he met Rossi at the door. It was a clean door- different to the others. It had painted quite recently and there was a light shining from underneath it. This was something. After indicating and making fast calculations, Reid stood to the side as Rossi shoved his foot against the door and blew it open.

What was inside was, frankly, baffling. Rossi lowered his gun immediately. Flowery wallpaper was different to the other rooms. The bed was carefully made and the kitchenette was tidy. The duvet was also old fashioned, and when Reid confirmed that the room was clear, Rossi opened the white painted wardrobe. Clothes- old fashioned dresses and coats.

"They belonged to his mother," Reid said after checking a tag. "They're too old to be otherwise."

"So what, he dresses them in her clothes... which makes sense. But why the wallpaper? The bed?"

"I don't know," Reid said, and walked toward the only other door he had not looked through. He had seen the bathroom- and it was pristine. He pushed open the last door, sure that Thomas Randolph was not in this room (the realisation of which made Reid gulp a little- if Emily wasn't here, where was she?). He looked inside and immediately beckoned to Rossi.

"It's a smaller bedroom. You might wanna see this."

And inside was exactly what Rossi had figured was more realistic. "This is where he sleeps. The bed is plain and the duvet is generic. The walls aren't painted or papered, and there's very little stuff," Rossi said.

"So he keeps the other room..."

"Just like his mother made him keep their house when he was a kid," Rossi confirmed.

And then Reid suddenly walked across the floor and pulled open one of the cupboards.

"Call Hotch," he said directly, pulling the cupboard wide open so that Rossi could see what was inside.

***

Hotch was running. Faster than he had ever ran in his life, trying to find his way through the Labyrinthine halls of the hotel, running toward the screams and cries of the woman he loved. He was close. He was so close.

And then suddenly he ran past it. He turned around and shone his light on the walls until he flashed past a door. The door he needed. Desperately, he reached for the handle. Locked. He pulled himself back and launched himself at the door harshly. It didn't budge. He pulled back again and directed his foot just underneath the lock, forcing his leg, hard, against the wood. He heard the splinter and then he heard a louder scream than any before. Desperately, he repeated his movement and the door sprang open. He descended the stairs to a house of horrors.

***

Garcia was outside with JJ, and she glanced up at the hotel, thinking of the horrors that had been happening inside- and feeling vaguely unsurprised. It was the sort of hotel where a cliché horror film might take place. And she was feeling very uneasy- almost as though it was a bit too quiet to be the centre of a serial killer's web. It was dowdy and drab, and the sign was almost entirely gone. Only the dust outline of the letters remained for the most part.

She looked across at JJ, who was cleared for field duty- but she wasn't inside, because she was talking to Reid on the radio. And it was sounding very worrying. They had found something- and they hadn't been able to contact Hotch to tell him, she gathered from the conversation.

JJ sounded urgent and worried, telling them to get out as soon as was possible. Garcia was very, very uneasy.

***

Hotch was not the type of man to hesitate. And at right this moment, he was definitely not going to hesitate at all. His sleeves were already rolled up and he had abandoned the thought of using his gun. Anger and rage boiled over and he launched himself across the room, shoving Thomas Randolph away from the crying Emily on the floor, and throwing himself on the taller, heavier man, immediately having the element of surprise on his side. He lashed out, fury taking over, and felt an odd satisfaction when Randolph's nose flamed into a bright red gush of blood.

Neither was Randolph stupid or incapable. He pushed Hotch back and was on his feet quickly, hitting out at the BAU leader, catching Hotch angrily across his shoulders and back, leaving him slightly winded. Randolph reached over and pulled Hotch into a headlock- and Hotch, knowing that Randolph could easily string him up- hit out with his left elbow, forcing it into Randolph's side angrily, and when the quiet "oomph" came, Hotch pulled away and prepared himself for the rest of the fight, grabbing an army knife from the table near the stairs and facing Randolph once more. It took him just seconds to take Randolph to the floor again, and he pummelled his fists against the other man's chest and head, solidly determined to inflict so much pain that Thomas Randolph would die right there and then. He lashed out with the knife in his hand, and drew blood. Randolph roared loudly, and struggled against Hotch.

He was caught off guard by Randolph's ability to recover quickly- and once again, the bigger man fought back and shoved Hotch away, breaking for the door and thumping up the stairs to get away, running through the hotel as quickly as he could, dragging an injured leg behind him.

***

Rossi pounded down the stairs and around the corner- he was now worried about where Hotch was, and they needed to leave the hotel. Now.

He saw a shadow move at the end of a barely lit hall, and he called out to Hotch. And then he recalculated. No way was Hotch that tall or that large. This was Thomas Randolph.

Unfinished business, he thought drily, and ran after the escaping shadow.

***

Hotch struggled to his feet and looked around. He had seen her just seconds before and ignored her in his blind rage. He wiped a small pool of blood from his mouth and clenched his fists a few times to relax the muscles and to ease the pain in his bleeding knuckles. He squinted in the room and searched for her.

And then he saw her. Or at least, her bare leg. A sick feeling woke in his stomach and his knees shook as he walked closer. Please, let her be okay. Please, please, please, please, let her be okay. He prayed to every God he knew of or had heard of in the few seconds it took him to keep the vomit and shock away and walk closer to her.

As soon as he got there, he knew that she had made it. Her eyes were open and blinking, looking straight at him as though she had been waiting for him. She said nothing, but allowed him to get closer to her. Her clothes were destroyed; modesty and dignity forever damaged by the man who had just ran from the room because he was no longer in control.

Shouts out in the hallway of a disoriented team went unanswered as he reached to his left and pulled a blanket from the bottom half of the old wardrobe nearby. He tried to reassure her as he went about dragging the material across her back and covering her with it. He dropped his gun and left it there, all other things, protocol included, forgotten as he moved closer to her.

Her eyes burned into his and he wanted to do nothing other than hold her forever; but first he had to get her out. He put one arm under her legs and another around her back, lifting her into the safety of his chest. She managed, somehow, to fix her arms around his neck and turn her body to face him, her eyes closing, for the first time in days, as her cheek pressed against him.

He muttered soft assurances and reassurances to her, holding her close to him, hearing her shudder and cry, feeling the matted blood in her hair, seeing the damage to her face and neck, knowing that her legs were cut and bruised- and wondering, had he been too late after all?

***

Morgan was assessing the entire situation while JJ was talking to Reid on the radio line. This was more than he had bargained for- and there was no way he could stop it. They simply had to get out- with or without Emily.

Otherwise they were all going to die.

***