The room stayed quiet for quite a while as the team of profilers tried to get as much sleep as they could. Yet it was hard to come by for them. They alternated between worrying about the man laying so still, his head still pillowed in Morgan's lap, and worrying about their absent friend. Was she ok? Had they just put her in another room? Could they really trust that she was ok, as Marcus had said? Or had they gone and…and killed her?

There were no answers and each question they thought of only brought another question with it. The only thing they could do was wait and that was something none of them did well. They were people of action. This captivity, though short so far, was starting to wear on them all in little ways. It made the situation worse with the two pails against the wall. Though they were practical, and they all understood that a body had needs, it didn't stop the embarrassment of having to use them in front of their friends and colleagues. Aaron was the first to give in to nature's call, with Dave after him. Morgan took a turn, letting Garcia act as Spencer's pillow. Garcia, as the only girl, held out the longest. Eventually, even she had to give in, though she refused to look at her friends afterwards for the next hour. But they granted as much privacy and respect as they could in their confined space.

Finally, after none of them could stand the silence any longer, Dave spoke, repeating his words from earlier. "Even after all you guys told me, I still can't believe the kiddo is taking so much and still managing to be here." He said in a soft voice. His eyes were fixed on Spencer's back and the cuts that had scabbed over. All of them looked at the red flesh, torn and welted, underlain with bruises from earlier hits. "I've never seen him act so tough before. He's usually, well, the mildest of all of us."

"He's got a temper on him." Morgan smiled as he said this, his hand stroking over Spencer's hair once more. "One time we were bickering back and forth at my house. I didn't want to let him go home by himself because I felt he needed to be with someone that night. I kept blocking him from leaving. He got so pissed, he threw a coffee cup at my head." His story brought on soft laughter.

With a slightly broken look on her face, Garcia looked down to Spencer again, a slight sheen of tears to her eyes. "How can he take so much?" She lifted wet eyes to look at the men around her. "I would've been screaming and sobbing after the first few hits. But he…he just, took it."

None of them had known that Spencer was finally waking up. Still groggy, he'd been lying there as Morgan had told his story, trying to orient himself. But when he heard Garcia's words, he couldn't help responding, though he didn't move or even open his eyes. Everything on him hurt. When he spoke, all of them jumped a little, turning to look at him. "When a high percentage of your childhood was spent being beaten by kids bigger than you on a daily basis and then you take a job in the FBI where you're randomly injured, as well as adding in my predisposition to catching the interest of Unsubs, well, I've built quite a high tolerance for pain as well as the capability to distract myself from it for a while." His eyes opened, looking to them. "And I can take more. I will. I'll last as long as it takes for everyone to get out."

"Reid, we don't have a plan to get out of here." Dave was the one to point this out. His eyes were dark with worry. "We don't know how long it'll take us to figure one out."

"I'll make it." He insisted again. They all watched as his eyes closed once more. "I have to. Once I die, he won't have any use for any of you anymore. I'm strong. I'll hold on just long enough…" Weakly his voice trailed off, showing his exhaustion. Morgan's hand continued stroking in his hair as he said "You'll hold on till we get you medical help. I'm not giving up on you, pretty boy."

Spencer could only give a soft hum in response. His body was sore and his head felt like it was going to split open. The headache, he'd expected, as well as the body aches. Not just from the pain on the outside, but from the withdrawal his body was going through on the inside. It took everything he had not to snarl when Garcia spoke suddenly; her voice was too loud, too high, and his head felt like it might break from the sound. "Reid…where's Emily? That Marcus guy, he said he wouldn't tell us. That he'd let you tell us the story. Where is she? Is she ok?"

He'd known they'd ask him this. So Marcus had said he could tell them, had he? Annoyed, Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, focusing for a moment on the feel of Morgan's hand in his hair. The little tugs on his scalp actually felt wonderful, like they were pulling away part of his headache. Though the others didn't know it, this was something that Morgan had done for him before. No matter how bad things were for Spencer, this gesture soothed him. Sometimes, when he lay like this with his friend, he couldn't help but think that maybe this was what it really felt like to have a brother. Someone who watched out for you, took care of you, soothed you when you were hurting or scared, fought with you when needed, laughed with you at all the good times. It was a pleasant feeling.

He abruptly realized that his thoughts were drifting. Either the pain was messing with his mind, or there was still a small amount of the drug in his system. That had been a high dose for him even back in his using days; now, after being so long without it in his body, it had been almost too much.

Remembering that the others were waiting for an answer, Spencer sighed softly and shifted to bring one hand up to rub at his face, wincing as that pulled at his back, bringing to life a new world of pain. He gritted his teeth and tried to breathe around it, focusing on the hand that continued to move in his hair, gripping the hand he'd brought up in Morgan's pant leg. Someone's hand touched his arm and he heard Dave's deep voice, calm and soothing. "Breathe, Reid. Try to take a few deep breaths and breathe your way through the pain. You need to hold as still as possible, kiddo."

"Gee, you think?" Spencer snapped before he could stop himself. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was grimacing. "Sorry, sorry." He was quick to apologize.

"It's ok." Dave reassured him, still calm.

Now that the waves of pain had mellowed and Spencer could breathe easy again, he let go of Morgan's pant leg and tried to relax his body as best he could, working to ignore how cold the ground was under him. To distract himself, he started to finally answer Garcia's question. "Emily isn't here because she's free. He set her free." He told them all in a voice that was just barely a whisper. It was all the sound he could handle.

"What?" Someone exclaimed. It was loud enough that his head pounded and he couldn't even tell who the voice belonged to.

Much to his gratitude, Morgan made a shushing sound before whispering "Low voices, guys. He's probably got a headache of mammoth proportions."

Thank you, Morgan! If I had to tell them, I probably would have snapped way harder than they're used to from me. He sighed out a breath and made himself start explaining. "I made a deal with Marcus. Twenty four hours of my cooperation, no arguing or fighting, and no telling any of you what was going on, and he would release one person of my choosing. I took the deal; he set Emily free." That was a very condensed version of things, but his throat felt parched.

Someone must have been able to tell. Spencer heard movement going away and then coming back toward him. "Here, Reid." Aaron murmured to him. "Drink this. It's water."

Spencer opened his eyes just to slits, almost hissing as the light hit them. When his vision cleared, he saw Aaron holding a little cup in front of him. Gratefully he took little drinks, awkward from the angle he was laying, but heaven on his throat. After a few, he felt capable of talking once more without it feeling like his throat was made of sandpaper. His face gave a nasty throb when he lay back against Morgan's leg, reminding him of the giant bruise that was his nose. He tried to ignore it.

As she sat forward, Garcia gave Spencer a serious look, which the younger man barely caught. His eyes were still only barely open. "Reid…" she started off slowly. "How do you know you can trust him? What if…what if he lied? What if he hurt her?"

"He wouldn't." Aaron answered for him in a firm and serious voice. "Everything in the profile suggests that he's the type to stand by what he says. He doesn't really care about any of us beyond being pawns in this game to break and murder Reid. He holds no grudge against us and so it wouldn't really cross his mind to hurt Prentiss after telling Reid that he'd let her go. His game is entirely focused on Reid. Though it surprises me that he released someone, he must feel that there's no risk to that person coming back and ruining things. He most likely bound her so she wouldn't be able to see where she was as they took her out."

Dave crossed his legs and rested his arms on his thighs, giving Spencer a serious look. "Now that we know what happened to her, I want to know what happened to you. You were so drugged we were able to strip you and wash your back without you even flinching, Reid. Even when Aaron pressed on one to stop the bleeding, you didn't flinch. What happened in there when he took you out?"

That was the last thing Spencer really wanted to say. He wasn't proud of his actions in that room. There hadn't been a choice, true, but that didn't stop him from feeling ashamed of the little part of him that had almost salivated at the idea of getting a fix. Once an addict, always an addict his mind taunted him. But he knew his friends wouldn't let this go and there was nowhere he could hide from them in here. They were stuck together. If he tried to keep it to himself, they would nag and nag until he broke down and told them anyways.

Closing his eyes against the shame, Spencer curled his fingers, gripping his own hands. He didn't realize how he looked to them at the moment, with the lines between his eyebrows and the pained expression on his face. He didn't know that Morgan could feel how tense he'd suddenly become. They waited silently, giving Spencer time to gather himself. What he told them wasn't what they'd expected.

"There was a third condition to him releasing one of you that I wasn't allowed to know until the end. When he took us in there, he laid out a syringe on the table and told me to inject her. I knew what was in there and I saw the dose; it would have killed her. It was far too much. When I said this, he told me 'What you do here is up to you, Dr. Reid. The entire syringe must be empty before we take your friend away. I'm sure someone with your brain power will figure out a solution to this.' And I knew what he expected me to do."

He paused to draw in air. Shame and temper boiled around inside of him. He clenched his fists tighter and kept talking. "I prepped her and the syringe and I gave her as small a dose as I possibly could. By my estimates on body weight and dosage size, it was a safe dose for her. I knew that, what was left, I could handle. It was a strong dose, a bit more than I've taken before, but I knew I wouldn't suffer an overdose. I wanted her to have less so that the effects wouldn't be as strong and she would recover faster and not have to feel the craving for it. I've handled withdrawal before. Better I take it than let her have too much."

"Oh, kid." Morgan sighed out above him. Garcia made a small, pained sound. Neither of the senior profilers said anything for a long minute. Then Aaron spoke, low and firm. "You did the right thing, Reid. You did well. You have no reason to be ashamed about this; it wasn't your choice."

He couldn't help but sneer a little. "Don't I?" His voice was bitter. "I may have done it for her, but that does not preclude the fact that I wanted this, Hotch. Does that make you proud? I tied the tourniquet on and prepped the syringe and I became thrilled at the prospect of using; of the oblivion I knew I would soon achieve. I enjoyed it. Once an addict, always an addict, Sir." The last word was thrown out mockingly, full of all the cynicism that Spencer was holding inside himself.

It wasn't Aaron who answered him, but Morgan. Even speaking softly, his voice was slightly hard and very serious. "Don't you start that with me, Reid." He warned him. "You did what was right. Yes, the addict inside of you enjoyed it. That's always going to be a part of you. But that doesn't make you any less. And this is not going to change a damn thing. When we get out of here, you're coming to stay with me for as long as it takes until you get better from this. I won't let you backslide, kid. You've worked too damn hard to get this far. So just kill the bad attitude, shut up, and try to get some sleep." His body shifted and Spencer imagined he was looking at the others. "Let him sleep a bit. It'll help kick past some of the withdrawal symptoms and give his body more time to heal before the asshole comes back."

Before Spencer could think of protesting, the hand in his hair stopped stroking and started to rub at his head, a thumb rubbing over his temple. He almost groaned out loud. He must have made some sound because Morgan chuckle softly. "Just sleep, pretty boy. We'll wake you up if anyone comes in. For now, just sleep."

What else could he do? Under the gently soothing hands of his best friend, Spencer let himself drift back to sleep.

Sorry to those that might not like this chap. I know, it's a total filler chap. I thought it needed to be done and it also gives me time to plan what happens next lol because I'm not too sure what I want to do. I'm debating back and forth for what I want to happen in the next chapter. Let me know what you thought of this one and anything you might like to see in the future! I'm always open to suggestions and opinions! Thank you all for your wonderful reviews and for the new favs and alerts. You guys are just the best :D