Reid didn't sleep at all that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his rapist's face. He could feel every painful violation the man had inflicted upon him. He could feel the warm trickle of blood down his legs. He could feel the hot substance spilling into him as the tormentor finished.
He was glad Henry was asleep. He didn't want the toddler to see the tears streaming down his face.
~~~~~CM~~~~~
When Henry awoke some hours later, Spencer tried to put on a brave and happy face for the child but he could tell quickly that it didn't work. Henry was constantly cuddling him and telling jokes and stories, just like Spencer did when Henry was upset (stories, none of the jokes Spencer knew would entertain a boy not even two years old).
Reid, unsurprisingly, still could not bring himself to eat. He could barely keep from retching with an empty stomach; he had no desire to see what happened on a full stomach.
Henry napped briefly after he ate lunch, leaving Reid to relive his latest attack.
He wondered if this is how Morgan felt when Buford had been assaulting him. Did he feel dirty and ashamed and disgusted with himself? Did he feel betrayed by his body because, in between the pain, it felt good? Did he feel like there was a huge hole inside of him? Did he feel like there was something gone, ripped from him, that he didn't even know existed before it was gone?
These thoughts kept looping through his mind until Henry woke up from his nap. Reid was thankful for the distraction.
Not long after feeding Henry some dinner, that…Reid didn't even think he deserved to be classified as a human but, that man came back. He didn't say a word to either captive, just grabbed the toddler by the arm and dragged him out of there. Reid wanted to badly to fight this man but he knew that would only result in his and Henry's injury (at best) or death (at worst).
When the man returned, he did not speak to Spencer. He shoved Spencer down onto the cot and began removing his captive's shirt. Spencer couldn't quite keep the tears from leaking from his tightly shut eyes.
The sadistic man looked up at his victim's face as he was undoing his pants and saw that the brown haired man's eyes were squeezed closed.
"Now, that just will not do," the man said softly, as though he was talking to someone he cared about but with an edge of anger to his voice. "I think it would be a good idea if you opened your eyes."
Spencer forced his eyes open and his breath hitched as he saw this attacker looking at his injured, naked body like he was a starving man and Spencer was a three course dinner.
Reid could barely manage to keep his eyes open and looking into the other man's as he felt each painful thrust rip through his lower half and his treacherous body responding.
"We'll have to do that again very soon, Agent Reid," the depraved man announced. "I don't know if you noticed, but I had a lot of fun. Your eyes are just so expressive!"
"Why are you doing this to me?" Reid exploded in a pained voice. "What did I do?"
"What did you do? What did you do!" the man shouted, anger overtaking his previously calm mood.
The man suddenly rushed back to the cot and, before Reid could react, threw the naked man on the floor.
"You killed my brother, that's what you did!" He kicked Reid in the side. "You shot him," another kick, this time to a very sensitive appendage between his legs, causing Reid to curl up on his side with a moan, "and you killed him and now," a third kick, aimed at Spencer's exposed back, "I am getting vengeance for him!"
The last comment was followed by an excruciating pain and a loud crack as the enraged stomped on the vulnerable, pained man's stick-like leg.
A scream erupted from the man on the floor as he felt the white hot pain shoot up his leg.
The muscular man stood over his victim, breathing heavily.
"I've only ever killed two people in my entire life and neither had a brother!" Reid cried in anguish.
"Philip Dowd!" the other shouted angrily. "He was my half-brother. Our father's name wasn't on my birth certificate but he was my half-brother."
Spencer didn't say anything. The man now had a crazed look in his eyes and Spencer was terrified.
"You have no idea how long it took me to find out about you," the man whispered dangerously. "I didn't even find out that he had been shot and killed by the FBI until 3 weeks after it happened. No one knew about me you see. I was my father's dirty little secret that he never admitted existed. The only person who did accept me as family was Philip! And you killed him. Oh, I looked for years to find out exactly who had killed my brother but I finally did. Then the only thing left was to come here to Virginia and take you. The kid was just an extra and what a great thing it was. He allowed me to manipulate you without any effort."
He stood there, face nearly purple with anger for several minutes, chest heaving. Reid sat there, stock still, and didn't dare say anything about how Philip was shooting people with a sniper rifle just to save them. He didn't even dare breathe too loudly.
Eventually, once the captor's breathing slowed, he left. A few minutes later, he returned, dragging a terrified Henry with him. He released the boy and the child shot over to his godfather on the floor.
The attacker didn't linger. He left as soon as he released Henry, slamming the door and locking it behind him.
Reid managed to pull himself, one handed, to the cot and miraculously balance on his good foot long enough to lie down on the cot. Getting his clothes on, however was another story.
He had Henry bring his clothes to him. He didn't have a problem getting his shirt on and he even managed to wriggle into his underwear (with more than a little pain coming from his broken shin bone) but when it came to the pants, there was no way on earth that he could get them on. If he even tried to put his injured leg through the pant leg, blinding pain shot through his body. Eventually, he settled for just throwing the thin blanket over his legs while he waited for whatever was next to come.