Disclaimer: I apologize for the delay, my computer's USB port broke, and I lost internet connection with it, now I have to re-write the chapters, word for word, which is no easy task. Again, I am sorry for the delay, and I thank those of you who have reviewed, and are still reading, I will try and update as quickly as possible…
"Jeremy?" Morgan asked, relieved, yet disappointed.
The boy coughed weakly. An attempt to answer.
"I'm agent Morgan, with the FBI, I'm gonna pull you out of there."
Jeremy squirmed, afraid, though he recognized the name.
Morgan sighed, and reached his hands into the log, firmly grasping Jeremy's ankles. Instantly the boy began to struggle, terrified, yet weak. Morgan held onto him, and gently as he could, pulled the struggling boy from the hollowed log.
He closed his eyes when he saw Jeremy, seeing the fear and pain set in his eyes frightened him, made him wander how badly off Reid was right now…
Jeremy stopped struggling, destabilized by the drug that hadn't been fully injected. He knew this was not one of Mr. Cranes men, and the name, he had heard it before.
Then he remembered Reid, who had fought to free him, who had remained trapped. He struggled again, bolting up and staring into Morgan's eyes with a fierceness like he had never known. And then, as if all his bravery had been drained away by a flash memory of the past five days, and Jeremy began to cry.
Morgan released Jeremy's bound wrists, and carefully began to massage the circulation back into them. He took in the bruises, and the dried blood masked by dirt and decay of the log. He listened to Jeremy's sobs and incoherent mutterings as something darker then fatigue fought over the boy, pulling him into unconsciousness. He pulled Jeremy into his arms and called Hotch.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"Where's Morgan?" Gideon asked, watching as the foremen put an end to the fire that had consumed the house.
Hotch seemed distant, as if he were somewhere far away. "There were tracks leading into the yard, toward the forest. I asked him to follow them." I hoped they would lead to an answer. He thought silently.
Hotch snapped completely back into reality as his phone began to ring. It was Morgan.
"Hotch," Morgan's voice was strained. "Man, I found Jeremy."
"Any sign of Reid?" Hotch asked, hopeful.
Gideon turned toward him, curiosity in his deep eyes.
Morgan sighed. "No, not a sign of him."
"Bring him here, now." Hotch said, angry though he did not let it show.
"What happened?" Gideon asked. The flames were dead.
After a moments silence, he turned toward Gideon. "Morgan found Jeremy. There's no sign of Reid."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Reid had just turned of the shower water when Mr. Crane burst into the bathroom. Immediately, he fell to his knees, trying to cover his nakedness with his arms, eyes averted.
Mr. Crane snickered. "You're all ready learning." He jeered, throwing a light bundle at Reid. "Put those on, and come to the door. Do it quickly." On his way out, Mr. Crane took the clothes Reid had been wearing, and slammed the door.
Reid took a towel from the pile and wrapped it around himself, and then he stared at the clothes Mr. Crane had brought for him. Black leather pants and a loose, black cotton vest with no buttons. Reid's stomach turned as he thought of himself in those clothes, waiting to be sold to some creep. But he knew that if he did not do as he was told, the beating would not be pleasant, not when Mr. Crane was all ready angry with him.
Humiliated, Reid pulled himself into the leather pants, hating them all the more after he put on the vest. He felt so exposed, so dehumanized. He waited as long as he could before he knocked on the door, and then exited the room.
Mr. Crane had been waiting and wasted no time before forcing Reid against the wall, grasping his bruised wrists tightly, binding them in front of him with thick leather straps.
Once again, Reid found himself bound, defenseless. In his fear; however, he found anger, and in a blinding wave of hate for what was happening, he acted out. Mr. Crane had expected obedience, and suddenly found himself fighting to maintain his balance as he was violently pushed away. An angry growl escaped his throat.
"You wont escape!" Mr. Crane's voice, like his footsteps echoed against the concrete walls as he chased after Reid, seriously angry.
Reid ran toward the old, wooden stairs, trying his best to run and climb in the suffocating leather pants. He had made it up four steps when one of his ankles was seized, and he fell forward, breaking the fall with his bound arms.
He kicked at Mr. Crane. "Let me go!"
Mr. Crane smiled, using the weight of his body to restrain the struggling product, bringing his face against Reid's. "You have just made this so much better for me." He breathed hotly. "You are not getting out of this, no matter how hard you try."
Reid continued to struggle in a futile attempt to fight as he was forced down the stairs and thrown against the wall. Mr. Crane forced his bound wrists above his head, securing them to another metal ring. Reid fought against the restraint, afraid.
"Lets give your friends one last look at you, shall we?" Mr. Crane smiled cruelly, pleasure in his eyes. Jeremy would know guilt, and the FBI would harbor despair, because no one could save this boy from the fate he had fallen into.
Reid tried to melt into the wall as he was hit across the face. Mr. Crane grabbed his cheeks roughly, pulling Reid forward. "You will never see the sun again."
Mr. Crane pulled an odd, hateful device from a nearby shelf, something Reid had never imagined would be used on him in his lifetime. The ball gag was forced into his mouth, his continued attempts at fighting in vain, his protests silenced. Mr. Crane turned Reid around, scratching his stomach against the concrete wall, and then proceeded to whip him. Lash after lash, Reid felt his skin break, biting down on the gag hard enough to leave eternal teeth marks, trying not to cry out. He closed his eyes to the pain, and silently hoped that soon, this would all be over, like a nightmare that takes longer then usual to wake up from.