A/N: Hey Everyone, I apologize for not updating yesterday but I fear that the schedule that I have been able to maintain thus far, won't be as easy to keep up. Updates will be less frequent, probably once or twice a week. Not too bad right? Reviews help and will make the updating much faster. And like I said before they make my day. Thank you for all the reviews. I love all of you guys! When I read them I was beaming from ear to ear. Writing this story is so easy with all of those reviews coming my way. Keep 'em coming and don't be afraid to shoot me some criticism. I can take it. Here's a pretty long chapter for you guys.

Please review and enjoy!

...

Wyatt Khan was a 6 year old boy who had been taken hostage in a gas station robbery. The BAU had been called into this case as a precaution, as many little boys had been snatched and had been used as bargaining tools during these types of occurrences over the past month. They had profiled the Unsub as a highly unstable white male between the ages of 35-40. They had narrowed down their suspects between two males who had been involved in the past crimes, and seeing as one of them was now dead, 37 year old Marco Baits who had suffered coronary failure, they presumed the unsub was a Barry Mar. The 34 year old who had been a "witness" at each of the crime scenes. Where none of the young boys had survived.

The Maryland Police Officers, SWAT, and the BAU circled the gas station in a tight perimeter, guns raised. Hotch was given a megaphone.

"Barry," He began, adjusting the device in his hand, "We know you are in there. We can end this peacefully. No one has to get hurt."

Silence filled the falling night as they waited for a reply. When nothing came Hotch began again. "Barry no one had to get hurt. Let Wyatt and the other hostages go, put down your weapon and come out. Then we can talk and you can tell us what you want."

Once again there was no reply. Hotch dropped the megaphone to his side and looked to his team.

Emily peered at Hotch with a questioning gaze, "What do we do now? He's not cooperating, not even responding." She gazed to the sound system that rested on the plastic table in front of her, almost willing Barry's voice to sound. They had installed communication by placing sound receptors all around the building. If Barry was going to say something, they would hear his demands. And yet he remained quiet.

"We go in?" Reid suggested. The team looked at his surprised.

"Reid that's not a possibility," Rossi stated, regarding the agent curiously. "We go in and Wyatt is as good as dead." Reid turned to Rossi, eye brow raised.

"There are six other people in there. Wyatt is the only one being targeted, and isn't the main priority. We go in, distract the unsub, we can get the six other people out, no problem." Reid countered.

"But what about Wyatt?" JJ asked, brow furrowed.

"What about him?" Reid asked innocently.

"We go in there and he's dead. We can't sacrifice his life to save the others. That's not how this works. Our job is to keep everyone alive no matter what. But you knew that Reid, didn't you?" Hotch stated. His eyes searched the young agents face, seeing his blank expression. He looked into his barren, cold eyes and for once saw something that didn't seem like Reid. Something cold, dark.

Something unlike Reid.

"Fine." Reid nodded though still didn't seem convinced. The speaker crackled and Barry's voice began buzzing through. As the team turned there attention, Hotch's gaze lingered on Reid. And as he began to join the rest of the team he could swear he heard him speak.

"Doesn't fucking matter. That kids as good as dead."

Hotch stared at Reid's crumpled form as he thought, his mind returning to the case and the memories it held. He recalled the events in perfect clarity, remembering the feelings and emotions he had felt.

He remembered Reid.

Red rimmed eyes stared out at his motionless colleague, tears falling. He did remember, but what had he done?

Nothing.

It was his fault. Ben was right. He had done this to Reid. His mind relayed memories of the past, guilt and anger plagued his being. There had been times, so many different occasions when he had felt something to be off, and yet...he had done nothing.

"I'm sorry Reid. I'm so sorry," Hotch whispered. He couldn't rip his eyes away form the young mans still form. But he felt his head drop in his hands as everything went dark.

...

He felt his mind beginning to clear as the effects of the drugs began to wear off. He also felt a harrowing pain erupted in his right hand as his body began to feel again. Though pained, he enjoyed the clarity. He didn't want to feel numb any longer.

His mind fastened in pace, and his thoughts cleared. His memories turned explicit, no longer a blurred haze. He strained to think, recalling the past. What had happened?

He had been high for most of it, that was certain. Dilaudid had become a common means for Ben to control him. But there were gaps that he could recall, everything wasn't completely blank. He remembered being concealed in the burlap, suffocating. Being dragged across the halls of his prison, dragged down a flight of stairs. But then?

Light. He had seem lights through the darkness, had heard voices. Voices, he heard them again...Familiar? And he had seen, what had it been? Had it even been real? As he thought, a memory came into focus that couldn't possibly be true. And yet..

No.

He couldn't believe it. He had lacked on to far too much false hope. He couldn't handle more disappointments.

The memory replayed, light in the dark abyss of his mind.

It was so clear, so close. But could it be true?

It was all he wanted, to believe. But the likely hood, no it was impossible.

He hadn't seen him. It was just a figment of his imagination.

An illusion.

He hadn't seen Morgan. The team

He had to be mistaking.

They were not real.

Whatever drive that had once filled him, dissipated. The flutter that he had so suddenly felt, disappeared. And instead of fighting the darkness, he let it consume him.

His family was not there. There was no reason to rush back to Hell.

...

It had been over an hour since Ben had last visited the team. It was erratic behavior, as he had always specified how he would return in ten minutes after each question was asked. And yet he had not returned.

"What do you think he's doing?" JJ questioned, her arm resting on the jut of her knee cap. Her gaze remained trained low to the floor. No one rushed to answer her, as none knew the reason.

"He's a psychopath," Rossi replied, sighing. "When does their behavior ever have a purpose?"

"It's just, I never thought anything like this was possible," Garcia murmured suddenly, her voice quite and muffled as she spoke through her hand. "How can this be happening?"

Morgan felt his face flush as anger once again began to boil inside of him. He didn't understand any of it. Why? WHY? Reid didn't deserve any of this. He couldn't stop himself from yanking loudly against his restraints, making the team jump. Five pairs of eyes gazed at his tensed form.

But Morgan slumped back, allowing his back to rest against the wall. The fight, the anger began to drain away, despair taking it's place. In a strong, but broken voice he said, to no one in particular, "I just don't understand, why is it always Reid?"

Silence.

What was there to say?

...

Ben returned two hours later, carrying a large plastic bag. He did not introduce his arrival or say anything to the team as he walked down the steps and headed to the middle of the circle where Reid lay. They all watched in the bitter silence, their breaths held as they waited for what this psychopath would do next.

He placed the bag next to Reid's head and sat beside his brothers crumpled from. The team watched as he gazed over his brothers crumpled form, contemplating him. Morgan bit back the anger that was welling up inside him, but he couldn't help but think, I can't wait until I get my hands on you. I'm gonna tear you apart, and m-

"Hello everyone," Ben said suddenly, cutting off Morgan's thoughts. He sat cross legged, facing Hotch, with Reid's head resting on the curve of his lap. He gazed at them, smiling genially. He didn't resume speaking for a few, long uncomfortable minutes. "You all must be wondering why I did not return after the promised ten minutes, am I correct?"

When no one responded Ben merely continued, "I do hate going off schedule, however I got an idea from my last visit and I think it's gonna make this game...much more interesting." His gaze lingered on Hotch as he spoke. "You see so far, everything has been routine. Question. Answer." He signed. "How is that any fun? I've been planning this game for a long time and it has to be absolutely perfect. So I was thinking, what am I missing?" He placed his finger to his cheek, mimicking the expression of deep thought. "Or better yet. Who is missing all the fun?"

Prentiss knew where this was going, she felt a deep churning in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she was wrong? Her suspicions were reaffirmed and residing despair settled as she watched Ben gesture to Reid. He stroked his long, bony fingers through his brothers hair gently, pulling at the occasional knot.

"I don't think it's fair," He continued. "Reid shouldn't be missing this." He smiled at his unconscious brother subtly rocking him back and forth.

The team was silent. None wanted to know what he would do next.

Ben reached fro the large plastic bag that rested beside him and undid the knots that held the opening tightly shut. When there was enough room he reached inside and pulled out a small black case, and a ball of silvery twine. He set the case down and unraveled the small ball, humming as he did so. He wrapped a good amount around Reid's wrist and tied off the loose end. He did the same for the rest of his extremities until both his arms and legs were secured, and then he rose to his feet tying the loose ends of the wire to hooks in the wall, none had took to notice before now. He huffed when he tied down the last piece and seemed to take a second to admire his handily work.

Reid was now immobilized, restrained by the sharp wire that was cutting gashes in his pale, already battered skin.

The rage reappeared inside Morgan and he jerked at the chains roughly. He succeeding in gaining a sharp look from Hotch, but nothing more.

He sat, watching, unable to save his brother.

Ben moved back to the center of the circle and picked up the black case he had placed on the stone floor. The box clicked as the lid was opened, and Ben's eye's searched it's contents. The team watched in a burning silence, their hearts racing in their chests. The same thought rushing through each of their minds.

What was the bastard going to do?

Ben looked up suddenly and smirked at the unsettled expressions of the team. "Suspense right?" He joked, chuckling to himself. "No need to worry. The funs just about to begin."

He closed the case and dropped it the floor, but not before pulling something from inside and concealing it from view. They strained to see what it was. Ben quirked an eye brow, kneeling.

His hands worked efficiently as he did what he intended while effectively hidding the process. Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. It all seemed like an eternity.

Finally Ben's voice reappeared, "Wakey wakey Spence"-JJ cringed-"Time to get up!" Exclaiming he thrusted his hand upward, revealing a syringe. He smiled at the horrified expressions of the team, and couldn't help the sticky chortle that escaped his lips. "Aww don't worry. Little Spencer will be just fine..."

And with that he slammed the needle in Spencer's heart.

A/N: Aww finally Reid is coming into the story. I love the team, but a fanfic is never any good without the little genius. I can't wait! I hope you guys can't too. I'm having a lot of fun writing this story, and each and everyone of you are making this process incredibly easy. Shoot me a review and thank you. Hope you enjoyed!