A/n again I can't thank everyone enough for all of the support you've given the story. I appreciate and welcome all feedback. There are more tweaks to the Sleepy Hollow legend in this chapter, so consider yourself warned.

Thanks once again to my wonderful beta REIDFANATIC. She puts up with a lot from me and is a great sounding board.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable from CM or Washington Irving. I own only my own characters.

Nightmares

Reid's head pounded when his eyes opened. It was dark except for one lone candle fluttering in the darkness around him. His eyes were blurred, and he blinked rapidly against the light. He looked to the right and saw that the candle was right next to wherever he was lying. His left side ached from where he'd lain in one place for who knew how long.

It took awhile but his eyes were begun to adjust to the light. He groaned and turned over onto his back. His stomach heaved at the movement, and he turned back over and vomited. He lost the entire contents of his stomach till he could only dry heave. One hand wiped at his mouth as he turned over onto his back.

His head was still pounding like tiny little men with hammers were beating the inside of his brain. He could feel the pain getting worse with every beat of his heart. If only he could stop the pain. How did one stop the beating of their heart? It wasn't possible, so he decided to try and ignore the pain.

His eyes drifted up to the ceiling of whatever the place was that he was in. Maybe if he sat up the pain would stop. This proved to be a bad idea when he tried, because his head began to spin so rapidly it felt like he had just left the tilt-o-whirl ride at the carnival. He dropped back on where he'd been lying. It felt like a cot of some kind. He ran his hand over it and felt a thin blanket covering the lower half of his body.

He looked up again and saw that the ceiling above his head was some kind of carved stone. There were no visible colors in the stone over his head because the light of the candle was too dim to see anything outside a small golden circle.

His eyes moved around the rest of the room, trying to see anything without actually resorting to getting up off the canvas cot he lay on. There was nothing to see, only dark stone walls on either side of his head. The smell of the room was like a cave. It was musty and earthy. Alone the smell would have been bearable, but the smell from the contents of his stomach that he left on the floor of the room was sickening. He tried not to think of it and was glad of the faint light. Total darkness would have sent him into spasms of horror.

He tried to sit up again and the dizziness wasn't as bad that time. The pain in his head was beginning to subside a bit, and it no longer felt like the pain was part of his veins and arteries. He looked to his left and saw the candle sitting in an old fashioned holder on a table next to him. The table was made from some type of dark wood.

He picked up the candle in its holder and shone the light over the room. It was a lot bigger than he'd first thought. There was a glass on the table full of clear liquid that he hoped was water. He put the candle back down on the table and became aware of a great burning thirst in his throat. He picked up the glass and looked it over carefully. His hand was trembling and some of the water spilled over the rim and onto the table forming a small dark pool on the surface. He dipped a finger of his other hand into the liquid and brought it to his lips. He hesitated for a minute, but then chided himself for his fear. He wanted that water, he was so thirsty. He opened his mouth and tasted the liquid. It was cool and sweet like water. There was no other taste, but he knew there were dozens of poisons that had no taste. He picked up the glass and drained it. If the water was poisoned or drugged, it was too late now.

He picked up the candle again and got carefully to his feet. The last of the dizziness was fading. And the pain in his head wasn't as severe as it had been, but it still let him know that he was alive and not in the middle of a very bad dream.

He moved across the room and as he got closer to the other side a door became visible. His steps quickened and when he reached it he was unpleasantly surprised to see that there was no knob on this side of the door. It was wooden like the table and there were brass fittings and hinges that sparkled in the light of the candle. He reached out and touched the smooth finish of the door.

"Is there someone there?" He said, or tried to say. His voice was hoarse and it trembled like his shaking hands. The darkness in back of him seemed to press against his back and shoulders like the embrace of some malevolent spirit.

There are no such things as spirits. Use your head and start thinking of a way to get out of here!

He called out again, making his voice stronger and more confident than he felt. "If anyone is out there, I'm a Federal agent. Let me out of here now, and maybe we can work something out."

There was no answer. Had he expected that there would be? The darkness was pressing harder against him; it seemed to know that he was afraid. He felt dizzy again, but he didn't want to turn around. The candlelight was still so dim. It gave him no relief from his fears. His legs began to tremble and his breath came in gasps. His chest was so tight he could hardly breathe and his pounding head hurt like it had when he first woke. The candle fell from his hand and sputtered out on the floor of the cave. It was completely dark, so dark he couldn't see anything. It was black as night in hell. He felt a scream begin to well up in his throat and he forced himself not to give voice to it. He dropped to his knees and felt for the candle but he couldn't find it, then the dizziness over took him and he passed out on the cold stone floor.

He was walking through the trees. They fluttered round him in the cold October air. Leaves and twigs crackled under his feet and in the distance he could hear the rustle of corn stalks. The sound of the wind in the corn fields got louder as he walked north.

There were birds flapping overhead and animals scampered through the branches of the trees over his head. It was completely dark except for the full moon. The branches filtered out the light of the moon, diffusing the red light into the surrounding darkness. He couldn't see too far in front of him, but he walked without fear of falling. In fact, all fear of the darkness was gone. The only thing he felt was a terrible sense of foreboding as the rustle of corn got louder and louder in his ears.

He stepped out of the forest after a long while and found the cornfield in front of him. And he didn't want to move forward, but his feet wouldn't obey his brain. He crossed the dirt road in front of him and stepped into the cornfield. The rustling in the corn was getting louder and louder as the wind picked up and tossed the stalks into each other. He pushed through them and the red light from the moon fell like a bloody pall over the field and his feet. The ground was black underneath him and it seemed like he walked forever.

There was a loud scream in front of him and he broke into a run. Dogs were growling and barking and she was screaming.

"JJ," He called.

Abruptly he was clear of the field and in the back of a terribly familiar barn. The dogs barked, there were three gun shots and someone knocked him to the ground. He rolled to his back and looked up in a daze at the face of Tobias Hankel.

"No… you can't be here, I killed you!" He shouted.

The scene changed again and he was back in the cave. The room was brightly lit with torches, their yellow light casting weirdly dancing shadows around the room. There were men in a circle and he was part of that circle. He found himself murmuring a low chant, words that he didn't understand. It was no language he'd ever studied or come across in his years in school.

He looked down and saw that he wore black robes belted at the waist like some insane monk's habit. It one hand held a jeweled dagger. It was silver and reflected the flames of the torch on its surface. He found he couldn't take his eyes off the dagger, and the rubies and sapphires that encrusted the hilt. An overwhelming sense of purpose flooding his being and he looked down at the altar. There was another man lying bound to the altar in front of him and he was looking up at Reid with an expression that was past terrified. His eyes pleaded with Reid, and with dawning horror Spencer recognized the man.

It was the same man he'd seen in his dreams, the same man he had been in the dreams. There was no headless horseman in this dream. The man was dressed in black and his white shirt was open half down his chest. He screamed as the chanting began to crescendo. Reid heard his own voice say in a commanding tone.

"Pieter Van Houten, first born of Jan Van Houten. You have been chosen to give your life for the wrongs of your father upon this land and upon the only daughter of the Guardians' High Lord, Heinrick Van Tassel. As your father's name was erased from this place, so your blood shall provide protection to this town for another generation of time."

He stepped forward and raised the dagger above his head. The man on the altar screamed again. Reid couldn't stop it. He was screaming inside his own head as he watched his hand flash down and drive the dagger into the heart of the man in front of him.

At the last minute Pieter Van Houten's face changed and rippled like a bad computer generated effect in a big block buster movie. As the dagger struck home, the face became his own, and pain cleaved into his head and chest.

Reid's eyes popped open and there was light above his face. He saw the masked face of a man in black robes stood over him and he screamed. The pain in his head was so intense his vision began to blur, and fade in and out.

"It will do you no good to scream young master Van Houten. Soon it will be time for the ritual and you will add your blood to the protection of this town."

Reid tried to reach out and push the man away when he bent over him, but he was suddenly weaker then a kitten and unable to move. He groaned and a very soft "No!" formed on his lips.

"I promise you my young friend that it will be over soon. The Guardians take no pleasure in the pain and torture of their promised sacrifices." He picked Reid up as if he weighed nothing and carried him out of the door.