Many thanks go to the finest beta ever. Thanks, Girl. You rock!

Chapter 10

Washington DC

Jason Gideon had followed the young man into the apartment house and had used the elevator to reach the fifth floor. He had to hurry. There wasn't much time left before the FBI would arrive and burst in.

He had used Julia Stiles' credit card – Erin didn't even notice it was missing – to lead his old team to this place to find the only person who could help them putting an end to this madness.

Gideon knew the man was traumatized and loved to hide in a shell, but he was sure that the memories he kept locked in the deepest, darkest corner of his mind needed to come to the surface.

Ruben Strauss needed closure.

Erin Strauss needed closure and he hoped against hope, she would find it and didn't have to die, before she knew that the people who were responsible for the misery of her family had been brought to justice.

He raised his fist and knocked at the door.

"Ruben Strauss? It's me, Jason Gideon. We met before when you were younger. I'm with the FBI and I know your mother. Please, open the door."

Gideon hadn't expected anything to happen after his first attempt to make contact with Ruben. Erin Strauss's son wouldn't trust anyone easily.

"Ruben, your mother needs you. I don't know, if you know what happened to her yesterday evening, but believe me when I say, she needs you."

Jason waited. One heartbeat. Two. Three. Then he heard shy steps, then the turning of a key in a lock. A deep sigh, that gave away the other's fear. The door opened slightly and through he crack he got a glimpse of the young man's features. The blond, short cut hair and the clear eyes.

"How did you find me?"

"Your mother told me she owns this apartment. I'm here, because of her, because of what happened to her and you. Can we talk, Ruben? It's about time."

She didn't know where she was. Neither did she know what time it was nor how long she had been locked up in this narrow, dark, smelly room. In the room above her she heard steps, agitated, angry. Chairs that scratched over the floor, furious voices, sometimes the shatter of glass. Next to her on a mattress in a corner lay Ruben. He had fallen asleep at some point, because the lack of food and water had made him weak. Her own stomach didn't seem to exist anymore and her throat was burning, but she had chosen to ignore it, because this wouldn't get easier.

After the first time one of the man had sexually abused her she had been violently sick, but of course that had turned him on even more and had ended in a second rape. She hated that her son had to witness what these men were doing to her, but begging them to bring him somewhere else would only fuel their sadistic appetite and as long as they liked to violate her, they hopefully wouldn't touch him. Her physical pain was a small sacrifice compared to what her son's emotional pain did to her.

It was the fourth day of her abduction and until the day before, they had almost treated them decently. Erin knew they had contacted her husband; one of her kidnappers had repeatedly told her about the favor William owed them and that after he had kept his end of the bargain, they would set her and Ruben free. She had waited one day, two days, nothing had happened. Then the day before, she had heard an enormous fight in the room above their own little prison cell and after that, the horror had started. The slaps, the cuts with their knifes, the pulling at her hair and the endless insults and the constant abuse. All she needed was a gun, or a knife, something she could use to end this in her way. If she ever had the chance neither of both men would leave this place alive.

The blood in her veins had been replaced by pure hate. It burned under her skin like fire and introduced her to a side of her inner self that she hadn't known yet. Chasing criminals and making sure they would spend the rest of their lives behind bars was her job and she loved her job with passion, but never before she had actually wanted to kill anyone. What she craved for with a desperation she had never experienced before was the feeling of their warm blood on her hands and the moment their eyes broke because hell opened underneath them. The moment they finally died.

She actually believed, the fantasy was the only thing that could keep her sane.

She heard steps and knew her time of peace was over. Clenching her fist, she prepared for another wave of senseless violence… and perhaps a way to get even.

FBI, Behavior Analysis Unit, Quantico, VA

"Only this time, they didn't chose her. This time they grabbed your little brother," Rossi said, bringing to life what he had read in Erin's report. "I don't have to tell you, that they didn't make him suffer any less than your mother."

Rachel had listened to his sometimes husky words with an expressionless face the whole time, but David believed to see honest shock in her eyes, and the wish not to know what happened. He was destroying her belief system, the foundation of her world, but sometimes it needed an earthquake to see what was left to care for in this world.

"They could escape one day later. One of the men became careless and your mother could get a hold of his gun when he wanted to violate her while he was drunk. She shot him, but he survived, as we learned later. He was run over by a car when he escaped the house where they had kept Erin and Ruben. His partner was in a room upstairs. He caught them as they sneaked out, she hit him with a bottle of whiskey over his head and set him on fire with his flare match. He burned to death and until a few weeks ago, we couldn't identify either of them."

Rossi waited, gave her time to let the news subside and the horror unfold.

"Was Jeffrey the man she shot?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.

"No," Rossi replied. "But we know he was closely related to him. Possibly his brother."

"I see."

When Rachel looked up and met his eyes, he saw tears swimming in her eyes. "Dad said Mom was hiding Ruben. He told me, she didn't approve of the psychiatrists he hired to help him." She wiped a single tear from her cheek. "What if he was right, but she only hid Ruben, because she knew Dad didn't want him to recover?"

"We don't know that," Dave replied softly. "But what we know is that the kidnappers didn't ask for money when they kidnapped your mother. We also assume that your father hired them to kidnap your mother – and not your brother. Ruben wasn't supposed to be at home that night. They tried to outsmart your father and when he refused to play along, they snapped and lost control over themselves and the situation. Two small scale criminals that went mad. Wouldn't be the first time."

Rachel cleared her throat, "So maybe they asked for money and he refused…"

Rossi shook his head and her voice trailed off. "I assume they wanted something else. We found out they had connections to Islamic terror cells here in the States. One of them did time in a prison where the head of an Islamistic terror cell was teaching the corane. They had found a new business connection and your father is the CEO of a company that develops and produces weapons that are sold to members and factions of Al Quaida."

"My father would never support terrorists," Rachel said. "He would rather die, before he betrayed his country!"

Rossi gave her a long, sad look. "Or allow them to kill his wife and his son. That's what we need to find out."

Washington DC

"I can help you, Ruben," Gideon offered gently. "I can help you remember – unless you chose to live on in darkness; though…" he paused, rubbing his hands. "I think you already remember something… but it's too painful to think of it."

They sat in Julia Stiles' apartment. The living room was half dark, the blinds were shut, the desk lamp illuminated a clean, neat room, filled with books, some flowers and family pictures. Gideon had noticed William Strauss was missing in all of them. Erin had never been careless enough to have photos in her office that didn't contain her husband. In this apartment, in this world, William Strauss was missing, as a father and as a husband.

Ruben stared on his fingernails.

"You felt safe here, didn't you?" Jason asked. "Your mother brought you here and gave you the home, you couldn't have when your father was around."

"It's okay," Ruben said, the agreement covered as understatement.

"Your mother gave me some kind of journal, you know. In this journal, she wrote about the kidnapping… what those men did to the two of you. She asked me to profile your kidnappers and she asked me to use my connections to get some very sensitive information, including who they were and if your father had paid them to commit this crime."

"I know that," Ruben nodded. "She told me, she asked someone for help."

"Did she also tell you I'm a profiler?"

The young man shook his head. "Is that important?"

Jason chuckled. "It's my job to dive into people's minds… to know them better than they know themselves so that I can predict what they'll do next. I can also take you back to a place and find out what happened, even though you think this information is buried forever."

"And that's what you want to do with me? To dive into my brain to see what I can possibly remember from the kidnapping?"

"Only if you allow me to help you," Jason clarified. "It only works when you allow me to help you."

"Some of the shrinks my father hired tried to do something similar, you know… they wanted to tell me what I should remember. I won't allow you to do the same. No matter whether my mother sent you or not."

The young Man's voice was calm, but determined. For Jason it was obvious the young man was as sane as he was. He wasn't as broken as William Strauss wanted to make him believe.

"I'm not here to tell you what you should remember… I want to find out the truth. You know what happened to your mother, don't you?" Jason asked.

"I heard it on the radio… when she brought me here, she told me to stay, no matter what happens. That's what I do."

"And that was wise, but in a few minutes a SWAT team will storm this apartment, because I lured them here. I want you to come with me to Quantico so that they can question you."

Right after Jason had finished his sentence they could hear the sirens coming closer to the house. Time was running out, but Ruben didn't even try to run, not that Jason had expected it. The boy had given up on running away a long time ago. He was facing his destiny like a man.

"What will happen to me once I get there?" he asked instead.

"They will ask you a lot of questions… unless you let me help you. You don't need me or anyone else to hypnotize you. You remember it all, don't you? That's why you're here, hiding, instead of holding your mother's hand while she fights for her life."

Ruben swallowed and bent his head, as his cheeks blushed. "I don't remember everything… I suddenly remembered it some weeks ago when I was searching for something in our cellar. It was dark, as dark as it was in that room all those years ago… I felt claustrophobic like back then… I smelled the room again, heard their voices and then I remembered something. It was only a second… when they first… did this to her… the door was open… there was some light in the hallway… I saw him standing there on the doorstep… he did nothing, just stared at me, like he did five years ago."

Jason narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "You saw your father?"

Ruben nodded, his head still bent down. "Yes… and then he left. Mom didn't notice it…"

"Did you tell her about it, when you remembered it?"

"Not immediately… but she saw something was wrong with me… I couldn't tell her, but I confronted my father about it – he denied it, of course."

"When did you talk to him?"

"A few days ago."

"FBI!"

Jason turned his head and looked at the door. Morgan was hitting the door with his fist. The team was here. Just in time.

"They will storm in and think you're the attacker of their unit chief and arrest you, unless I open the door, but I'll only do that if you promise me, you'll tell them everything you know. Stop protecting your memories, because it won't help your mother. This is your chance to hold these people accountable for what they did. Don't miss this chance. Do you understand me?"

"I understand," Ruben said.

"So?"

"Open the door, Agent."

FBI, Behavior Analysis Unit, Quantico, VA

"I see. Thanks, Morgan."

Slowly, but with unmistakable determination, Hotch hung up the phone and looked up to William Strauss.

"As I see it, this is your last chance to tell me about your wife's abduction. We've found a witness who can tell us everything about your involvement with the kidnappers and why they turned against you."

Strauss gave Hotch a doubtful look. "You have nothing."

"My fellow agents found your son and Ruben has regained his memory about the time of the abduction. A repressed memory is still a memory and sooner or later, people remember what happened to them. So, if you don't talk to me, he will and it's on you how this will look in court."

~tbc~