A/N: Hello lovlies! Chapter 10 is up and I hope you guys don't hate me too much by the end of it. In case anyone wonders, they are chained to the wall so they can't really go anywhere or retaliate, and they're also a bit malnourished. Again, thanks for the reviews, and thanks also to DaisyDay for being a *fabulous* BETA-read for me.

Please review!

BRTxoxo

It was early morning. Gentle sunlight filtered through the small window above the mattress Katrina slept on, curled into a tight ball. She stretched, very much like a cat, and yawned. Her wrist throbbed with a now common dull pain. Something tickled the bottom of her foot, something soft.

She yelped in surprise, drawing herself into the corner, until she realized what had happened. She smiled slightly.

Spencer Reid, SSA FBI Agent, young genius, lover of all things SciFi, was half splayed across the bottom of the mattress, half lying in a crescent moon shape. His hair was ruffled, and he was breathing deep and evenly, still very much asleep. He looked much more peaceful in this sleep than he had yesterday when he had arrived.

The blanket he had used was twisted around his lanky body and limbs, his mouth slightly parted.

Her tail flicked in amusement and she smiled again, smoothly prying the blanket loose and covering him up properly with it.

That done, she went through her now normal morning routine of going to the bathroom, washing her face with cold water and brushing her teeth before she settled back down to watch Spencer.

As soon as her tail was tucked safely around her drawn up legs, his eyes snapped open and he jolted upright, his face confused and not quite scared, but close enough. It was the horror of knowing one slept in too late and was then late for something they should not be. Immediately he grabbed his head as pain throbbed in his temples and soreness ached from his stiff arms and legs.

"Spencer? Are you alright?"

Katrina's soft voice cut through the haze that was surrounding his mind, officially letting him know that the day before had not been a dream and that he was indeed captive in a basement with a handcuff that was locked too tightly around his wrist.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." He fell back onto the mattress and sighed heavily. "I just… thought that it was a dream," his voice was far away, wistful.

"Oh." Her mind wandered to thoughts she never knew she would have, thoughts that she knew she probably shouldn't have at this time, seeing as she was captive in a basement that belonged to a madman that thought she was in love with him.

Katrina pondered Spencer Reid. His warm brown eyes, the boyish look of his features, his highly trained mind full of knowledge and stories, his long fingers and thin wrists-almost as thin as hers, his soft light brown hair and the way it curled at the ends, the way he talked, and the way he spoke and gestured when speaking about "Doctor Who", the way he smelled.

"You smell like coffee."

"I'm… I'm sorry?"

Oh my gosh… me and my big mouth, she thought, mentally berating herself for her lack of thought filter. "I mean… sorry. I haven't had coffee in almost a month. You smell like coffee, and…" she sniffed, wrinkling her nose slightly (again, Spencer told himself that it was endearing the way she did that at all) and frowned a bit, "sugar. Not just regular sugar though, like, candy type sugar."

"You can smell all that?" the young genius sat up, crossing his legs and turned to the young cat woman.

"Well, being a cat, my senses are heightened. At least some of them, like my vision, hearing, smell, and balance." She smiled slightly.

"I take it you can also purr?"

. . .

Sweeny Todd had returned by the end of the week. The first thing he did was yank them out of sleep and shower them. She apologized as much as she possibly could when he returned afterwards.

He smiled at her shakily and told her that he'd be fine.

They fell into a routine. Every other day they would be showered. Sweeny Todd would leave then, giving them water and some type of food. After they heard his truck rumble into the distance Spencer would tell her more about "Doctor Who", or she would tell him stories about her childhood, or stories she had made up in her head. Every night Sweeny Todd would return, try and get Katrina to talk to no avail, sometimes "punishing" her, as she described it to Spencer while he cleaned her up and then she would write in her brightly colored Lisa Frank journal and then tuck it safely behind the mattress under the pillow.

Eventually Spencer got the nerves to tell him that Katrina needed more than just crackers. The man had looked at her. His eyes scathed down her frail body. They flashed back to Spencer's form.

"And what," he hissed, his voice slithering over the walls of the room, "makes you think that?"

"W-well, she needs it. She's part cat, she needs fat and more nutrients. She… she told me."

"She told you?"

Spencer hadn't gotten to reply. Sweeny Todd hit the young cat-woman and screamed at her, demanding she talk to him. When he got no reply, he backhanded the genius, eliciting a high pitched squeal of alarm that sounded an awful lot like a cat noise from Katrina. She refused to speak again and received more blows from the angered murderer before he stormed from the house.

His truck screeched from the residence and it wasn't until it was completely silent again until Spencer crawled over to the still form of his companion.

He told her a happy story from "Doctor Who" that day.

Weeks passed.

One night, Spencer took the journal out of the safety of its nook and read it, after Katrina had fallen asleep. He didn't want to, not really, but she wouldn't say anything about the first three weeks of her captivity.

He stopped after the first few entries, not wanting to read anymore, no matter how badly he wanted to know. That night, he laid down next to her curled up body and watched her, eventually falling asleep.

The next morning he woke up to her screaming in agony.

. . .

What. How. How did this happen. Why did it happen.

Katrina's mind raced.

Her tail twitched.

Another scream ripped through her throat.

Spencer had jolted out of his peaceful slumber at her first scream.

She had been torn out of sleep by pain, searing, throbbing, agonizing pain emanating from her tail.

"Oh my gosh…"

Through her tear burning eyes, she could faintly see Spencer's horrified face, and she barely heard his breathed exclamation through the pounding in her ears.

She gasped through the pain.

"I'm so sorry my dear, but you see, it had to be done." Sweeny Todd's blood covered hand smoothed down her hair. he looked to his other captive and tossed a plastic bag from a convenience store full of first aid supplies at him. "Take care of it." His voice was harsh compared to the soft crooning he'd used with Katrina.

"It had to be done?" Spencer asked, incredulously challenging his captor. "She needs that! It's part of her spine! She could be permanently damaged or even crippled from that!"

Sweeny Todd sent the young FBI Agent reeling, leaving a blood smear across his rapidly reddening face. While he was down, the serial killer snipped off a lock of Spencer Reid's hair. "Take care of her. Or your punishment will be much more… permanent."

Katrina screamed again with another twitch of her tail that was now cut short, bleeding onto the mattress.