Am I sick in the head? Quite possibly! Two quizzes today, enough homework to keep me busy for a good hour or so, a shower to take, and I'm writing you guys another chapter only the preceding day! Although, I have to say, I really enjoyed writing this chapter—don't ask me why, not like I'm very good with violence—and am quite pleased with how it came out. Don't worry, I don't actually enjoy this kind of stuff in real life. Although maybe I should be attending therapy sessions. I do hope you read these quotes, as a side note; I go to the trouble of finding them… Lastly, I also hope you read A Thousand Cranes. I really am very proud of it, and do review if you have read it. Do I expect too much of you guys? So sorry. Just letting you know. Oh, and read stories by ilovetvalot—they're to die for. Really good writing there, and I'm not even sure if she reads this story… ah well, nobody should have to miss out on her work!

Sorry for rambling. R&R!


"Remorse is the pain of sin." –Theodore Parker


Her volunteering elicited plenty of varying responses. Rossi and JJ were on the far side of the wall, meaning she couldn't quite see them, but she did note a flash of blond hair as JJ whipped her head around to peer at her. Reid, who was closest to her, instantly took on a look of fear as memories bubbled to the surface from the ordeal with Cyrus that he'd rather have kept buried.

As he began to panic when she didn't take it back, she noticed both Morgan and Hotch give her scornful looks. Let us talk it out first, their expressions were as easy to read as a book. It was like communicating in a foreign language that she was fluent in. Don't jump to this yet. We can work this out. Don't give him what he wants. She subtly shook her head at them, pushing the sense of pain from the movement to the back of her mind, earning her an impatient glare from Morgan and a contemplative one from Hotch that he didn't bother to hide.

Eventually, she dragged her line of sight away from the two men and Reid, who was showing the beginning signs of a panic attack. She felt guilty for causing him to relive such awful times, but one way or another, he'd understand later. If there was a later. The team would comfort him, of that she was sure. More than one team member had come to favor the young genius, with so much skill and potential it far surpassed that of anyone's any of them had met before, not to mention an unbreakable innocence that nobody could hope to withstand. He deserved soothing words, gentle hugs, and especially, above all things, goodbyes. She wasn't worthy of any of it.

Silence reigned, with the exception of the heavy breathing coming from Reid. It remained that way, an ominous hush settling upon all of them, until Emily thought to lift her eyes.

The dark, venomous green irises that her own brown ones met shocked her, giving her the feeling of wanting to curl up and hideaway like a very, very guilty child. Not just one that had broken something, or spilled something on an expensive white carpet, but one that had been caught smoking. The sinking, tight feeling in her chest was that severe, even overwhelming. For a fleeting second she had regrets, but then she reminded herself why she had spoken, and was able to mask the stirrings of fear inside her.

That locking of the eyes was all it took. Terror had twisted her expression just long enough for Louis to notice, and that was all he desired. For the few minutes of silence while she had been observing her teammates responses he had been staring at her, looking her over, even going so far as to shamelessly undress her with his eyes. Now as she displayed exactly what he wanted to see, his mouth turned upwards into a gleeful, if psychotic, grin.

"Good. You'll be fun," he informed her smoothly, not caring to view her outward response. There would be plenty of time for that later, after all. He straightened his legs, twirling the light gray roll of duct tape around his wrist. Finally, and much to her relief, those haunting and demeaning green eyes released hers in search of the person farthest away from her. The grin wiped from his face for now as he set about the evidently boring task, he stepped over, whatever brand of sneakers he was wearing making small tapping noises against the stone floor. Even as he walked he slipped the roll off and ripped a large piece without any difficulty, slapping it without compassion onto Rossi's face the moment he reached him. Apparently, Rossi didn't show any response whatsoever, for Louis quickly moved on to apply the same careless treatment to JJ, Hotch, Morgan, and Reid respectively. He paused at Reid to give the hyperventilating man a disgusted and strange look before tossing the roll of duct tape across the room, somewhere in Rossi and JJ's corner.

Finished, he let his eyes sweep over the silenced team to make sure that the strips of tape were sticking securely. Once satisfied, that damn grin crept back onto his face like a snake to match his once again malicious eyes. As he had learned from his experiences, giving his victim just the right look could scare them terribly. He had made every effort to perfect it, and Emily had to give him credit; he was having the desired effect that he undoubtedly worked so hard to achieve.

He forcibly slowed himself to an agonizing pace as he moved to stand in front of Emily, who, in turn, was becoming more and more alert with every passing second. She contemplated that regaining her senses at this particular time might not be a good thing as he clicked a key into her metal cuffs and turned it. Her arms fell, ungracefully and covered in oozing blood, from their holdings and onto the floor. She didn't have so much as a moment to feel the numbness ebbing away from her arms when her hair was pulled, roughly.

She stumbled forward, her muscles protesting after having been in the same position for God knew how long, ending up collapsing hopelessly onto her knees despite his longing to yank her to a standing position. This fueled an anger that was burning beneath the surface and he automatically jerked her hair again while sending out a rage filled kick, which caught her squarely in the stomach. Winded, she doubled over, wheezing and trying to ignore the stinging pain that accompanied the rough attack. She grimly reminded herself that it was going to get much, much worse than this.

The duct tape had unfortunately served its purpose well. Muffled cries of objection, pain, possibly even remorse and concern were chorusing from her team's direction behind the slivers of tape that prevented intelligible speech. His larger hands circled around both of her injured wrists, seemingly unconcerned with the deep redness that would cover his own hands, and an unwilling whimper escaped her before she had the common sense to muffle it.

This, obviously, delighted him. Adrenaline surged through him and he successfully dragged her to her feet, even though she was unsteady and swaying from the lack of balance caused by the probable concussion. He looked her over only briefly before placing a well aimed kick to her knee, which she admitted was painful as hell. If there was a crack of breaking bone, she didn't hear it over the roar of pain that was occupying her senses. Nor did she have a moment to gather or prepare herself before he backhanded her, leaving an already bloody mark on her cheek, and sent another kick to her chest immediately following. This time she felt more than heard the cracks of multiple ribs breaking as she was knocked off her feet and sent to the floor.

The stone underneath scraped her exposed elbows and worsened the bloody injuries she had already acquired along her arms and cheek, and her head began to spin. Feeling faint, she managed to make out Louis' bulkier form, towering over her before squatting down to look at her directly in the face. She was able to muster up an ounce of relief at the realization that she couldn't make out the spitefulness lingering in his poisonous eyes. He waited a few seconds to make sure he had her attention before leaning forward and sneering in her face, hissing out loudly enough so that he was sure her team would hear:

"This is just the beginning."

The last thing she was conscious of were the cries that her teammates were doing their best to convey in spite of the obstructions covering each of their mouths, her limp body being dragged across the cool stone and her wrists being cuffed again before she was thrown back into a very painful and very unsure oblivion.