"Nathan?"

"Shut up! It's not like you're really here to help me! You left!" Nathan raged against the perceived illusion not bothering to turn and face the specter.

Reid took a step back, careful not to put his back against the wall. Reid noted the exits before proceeding, "Nathan, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid. You remember meeting me? You attended one of my lectures and later led my team and I to capturing the D.C. serial killer."

There was that tone of voice again, just like in the subway; calm, curious, and slightly placating.

Reid continued, "You wrote to me months ago, you sent it to the Bureau. I didn't get it until after you'd been released. I wish I could have been there." Reid knew if he had any hope of walking Nathan out alive a second time that empathy would go a long way to accomplishing his goals. Reid would later tell himself that he said it all under the guise of doing his job, but more than part of him knew that if he'd been there, when Nathan had been released – well, those contemplations were best saved for the NA meeting he'd most certainly find himself in after the case had concluded.

Nathan cringed as he felt the nerves behind his eyes burn white hot with pain and then the unexpected happened, tears. In the past, the drugs would have never allowed this. Nathan swallowed a chuckle at that thought that to his surprise came out still, as a sob. Before the drugs would have wracked his head with pain at the slightest hint of sadness, his eyes caught in a state of denied release, as he did his best to ignore the pain. Now it was as if every tear that had been repressed finally sprung forth. As the first hot tear hit his hand he heaved a sigh of relief.

This was a first, Reid thought, he'd never had an UnSub cry when caught. As Dr. Reid stood behind Nathan, he mused how the young man was almost unrecognizable. In the place of that shy and pale little boy in the subway was now a man, a serial murderer, in the middle of a psychotic break.

Nathan was lost in the sensation of his emotional release, completely absorbed in the foreign sensation of the streams of tears running down his face. Before he could give into his grief completely Reid spoke again, "Then I got your second letter, you really paid attention during that lecture at Georgetown, I was impressed that you remembered all of that – even without your notes."

"Dr. Reid?" Though his voice had deepened somewhat with age and emotion, the frightened boy that had cornered him in the subway remained in there somewhere. Like Adam and Tobias, Reid maintained there was something in there still capable of being saved, of being set free.

Nathan turned slowly, on his knees, to face Dr. Reid and then stood. The combination of Nathan's increased physical presence, and the dried blood that coated the front of his clothing, had Reid against the wall before he could stop himself. From behind, Reid could have still imagined that Nathan was the boy from the subway but face to face, it was hard to see Nathan as anything other than a butcher.

Nathan took a step toward him, wiping away his tears and leaving a smear of blood across his cheek in the process. "Dr. Reid?" He moved closer until he could feel the older man's shallow, nervous breathes on his face.

"Nathan, listen to me, are you armed? Where is the knife?"

Nathan set his hand on his knife and began to unsheathe it.

"Nathan, stop. I need you to take your hand away. I'm going to take the knife from you. Do you understand?"

Nathan nodded and rather unexpectedly placed either of his hands of Reid's shoulders and squeezed gently. Nathan stared at him afraid that if he looked away that Reid would disappear and another illusion, something more frightening, would take his place.

Nathan breathed out a shallow gasp of surprise. "You really are here. You're real…and warm." Nathan moved closer.

Reid proceeded with caution, setting his hand gently at Nathan's side, keeping a firm yet gentle touch as his hand moved toward the knife in the side of Nathan's belt.

"Dr. Reid?"

"Yes, Nathan?"

"I don't want to go back." There was that scared sophomore again. "They – y-you don't know what it's like. I need this now."

Reid tried his best to stay focused as Nathan's grip on his shoulders became bruisingly tight. From the moment Nathan had stepped toward him, Reid had kept eye contact and held it. The change in Nathan's eyes, in his entire visage, transformed with those last words, "I need this now." The immediacy was terrifying and Reid did the best he could, given the circumstances, to maintain control of himself and the situation.

"Nathan, you can't go on doing this. You want to know why you do what you do? Well, eventually every killer makes a mistake because they need to get caught; for some, it is part of the fantasy, they think they'll go on to live in infamy, for others, it's just the need to tell someone, to gain recognition," Reid allowed his hand to travel further toward the handle of the knife, "I see you Nathan. I know what you've done and soon so will the rest of my team. Now it's time to stop, "Reid wanted to add, before it's too late, but Nathan seemed to understand the sentiment by tightening his grip on Reid's shoulders.

Reid winced as Nathan's grip was almost unbearable and the boy was moving closer – Reid knew he needed to change tactics, yes, before it was too late, for them both. "It's time to learn from what you've done. That's what you asked me for, wasn't it? What you've always wanted from me and Agent Gideon, to know why you do what you do?"

In a flash, Nathan grabbed Reid's wrist and held it as it were his only lifeline, as if, to let go meant that they would both slip away. Reid's pulse under his fingertips gave Nathan a fresh surge of adrenaline – Reid's pulse was the bell, the trigger, which made him salivate.

Nathan removed his other hand from Reid's shoulder, moving Reid's hand away from the knife, he withdrew it and pressed, tip-first, into Reid's throat. In on fluid movement, Nathan took a step back, and with one hand on the collar of Reid's shirt, and the other wielding the knife, Nathan was able to Reid up against his chest, the knife now pressing blade-first into his throat.

Reid was pushed forward, the blade moving only slightly to accommodate for the sudden movement. Nathan was steering him toward the master bedroom. The first thing Reid noticed when entering the bedroom was the massive amount of blood concentrated on one side of the bed. The sheets had been pulled up to hide the Nathan's victim, the knife prevented Reid from taking in a nervous swallow of air before he spoke, his first words coming out dry and shaky, "Why the sudden feeling of remorse?"

"What?" Nathan answered sharply, pressing down on the knife more in reaction than intention to harm Reid.

Reid almost threw himself back onto Nathan's chest to avoid the inescapable blade, bring one hand up to Nathan's wrist, trying to ease the pressure on his throat. "You covered their face, that is a classic sign of remorse," Reid could feel the skin at his throat begin to sting like the telltale signs of a razor's cut, "Nathan, please," Reid was pressed against Nathan so tightly that he had no trouble feeling the younger man begin to shiver at his words. "Nathan, you're hurting me," Nathan moved the knife enough to give Reid breathing room, just enough so his throat could rise and fall without fear of being cut, Reid cleared his throat and swallowed, "Tell me why you regretted this?"

For his answer Reid felt his shirt collar released and that free hand came to tangle in his hair, Nathan used it as leverage to bring Reid's ear closer to his lips, "I didn't want to kill him, Dr. Reid, this didn't have to happen. He..I..this..you know I couldn't have let him live."

Reid's used Nathan's momentary introspection and condemnation to push back against Nathan and then fall forward, attempting to escape Nathan's grasp. Yet, Nathan's hand was still firmly entwined in Reid's hair and he used Reid's momentum to drive him, face first, into the bedroom doorframe.

Reid heard a pop, his vision sparkled and then blackened, his knees gave way, sending him to the floor and back into Nathan's arms.

Nathan laughed as he felt a matching surge of pain burn through his head. This didn't have to happen, Nathan shook his head, and then began to drag the unconscious Reid toward the closed door across the hall. This didn't have to happen.

A/N: I'm sorry to torture you, well, okay, maybe, not really. Thank you to all of the new readers, reviewers, and lurkers, as well as, to all of the seasoned reviewers, readers, and lurkers. Things have mellowed out considerably in my personal life so finding the time, and the will, to write is becoming easier. I hate to think that this is going to come to an end soon. I've really enjoyed the whole process of it all. The final few chapters have yet to be written (no idea what will happen, seriously) but I am hoping to have at least one up in the coming days. As always, feedback and constructive criticism are highly valued and appreciated, so please review away.