Missing.

Summary. . . . . . . . . . . Two agents go missing, one is found, just what has happened to the other? And how long do you keep looking?

Disclaimer. . . . . . . . . Not mine, never will be, just playing in this wonderful sandbox.

A.N. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Thanks once again to everyone who has taken time out to read this fic, and to those who have reviewed, or added to favs. Your support, as always means a lot. Here's chapter 13, I hope that you enjoy. Peanut x

Previously on Criminal Minds. . . . . . . .

Now though he knew. He needed the begging, needed the pleas for mercy, needed to see that last breath and the light as it faded from his victims eyes. So he had returned, even though he knew he should run, and watched as those imbecilic agents scurried around like the useless humans they were, not seeing that which was right before their eyes. He returned and taped as he waited for the time to end, pulling on a mask as it did so, and placing the camera so that it could record Spencer Reid's last moments, and the agony those last moments would cause him. Picking up the album he had picked out specially, he moved forward.

We had to split up again, we had no choice the corridors spreading out before us like rabbit warrens, dark and dusty, cobwebs dangling, catching you by surprise, igniting unwanted nervous reaction's. Morgan came with me once again, Hotch's way of keeping me in line if we find the un-sub, big mistake; Morgan's wound up tighter than I have ever seen him, I've seen the way he looks to Reid like a sibling, if we find him looking as he did in the video's, and the un-sub is there too, it'll be a race to see who can kill him first. We have to find them first though, and so far the search is proving fruitless.

The beams from our flashlights cast an eerie glow over door after door, but a quick scan of the knobs and the undisturbed dust that gathers like silt on the floor tells us both everything we need to know, the room doesn't hold the prize we are looking for. I can tell just by looking at the floor, can tell Morgan sees it too, the un-sub hasn't been down this way, but we have to keep looking, the others haven't called back with good news, so maybe there's another way down here, maybe that bastard took that route, maybe Reid will be just around the next corner.

I jump before freezing, only just able to raise my light to see the look of fear and anguish and regret that is spread across Morgan's face, as his watch signals the end of time, a look I'm sure is slowly spreading across my own. It can't be. Not now. Not whilst we are so close. Reid is here, I'm positive of it, we can't lose him now. I see my own thoughts echoed back at me and we both, as one, move further into the passageways. Turning a corner, and then another sharp one, we get our first break, our first clue apart from feelings that Reid is actually down here, a disturbance in the dust around a door. A quick glance inside is all we need, to know that this is the way he came in, and turn our attention back onto the floor to follow the footsteps clearly now indicated there, out breaths catching as we move further down the walkway and see the water pouring down the walls from a crack within the ceiling to gather upon the floor, before gravity slides it down towards the last doorway. I sneak a glance at Morgan, see his eyes come up to meet mine, witness within them for the first time hope. This has to be it. Now we can only prey that we still have a little time.

This isn't going as planned. He's not giving me the satisfaction I need. Not secreting the fear, or shouting out the pain, he's just lying there, numb and withdrawn and quiet, so deadly quiet. This is not right. This is not right at all. I need begging and pleading and crying for mercy, and life, not this quietness. Maybe the pain I have inflicted so far is not enough, maybe once he feels the vinyl skewer it's way into his soft flesh he will give me the sounds I deserve to hear. He doesn't move as I rip the threadbare shirt he is wearing apart, doesn't even flinch as I unfurl him from the coiled position he has maneuvered himself into, his eyes vacant, his face slack, only the soft wisps of misty air telling me he is still with me, and his nonchalant behavior ignites within me even more fury. He has to pay for his disobedience, he has to give me the cries I so need or this will not be over, I will have failed.

The first slice sends shivers down my spine, but still my prey remains the same, quiet and still. I press harder, feeling resistance at first, but gradually forcing the shard through layers of flesh and muscle and tissue. I gain a reaction then, but the barely there whimper, and the stiffening of his body is not nearly enough. I pull the shard slowly out and raise it once again, this time I will not be so slow and careful, this time I will be brutal and harsh. I thrust the broken record down again, penetrating easily this time through the pale flesh, and eliciting a response that fills me with excitement and moaning with pleasure. Still in the throes of gratification, I remove the shard once more, and move upwards. It's time to finish the game.

I pull on the matted and filthy hair, positioning my preys head so that I can gain access to the creamy white skin that covers it's neck, and the precious vessels that throb beneath it. Eyes turn my way, eye that are filled with pain and exhaustion, regret and forgiveness, and just a hint of what I am looking for, supplication. It's just a hint, but it's enough. I move the shard forward, aiming for it's final destination, stopping to admire as a bright white light engulfs my vision, and a searing pain rips it's way through my body, piercing my heart, shattering it to pieces, as another pain engulfs my head, stopping all signals from my brain.

We both rush over together after the echoes of the shots had died down, a quick check all we needed to confirm are aims were true, before we push him aside like the garbage he was and turn our attention upon the one we came here for, the missing piece of our family, our heart. Seeing him in the flesh for the first time in a year brings tears to our eyes, and tells us all we need to know. We may have found our son, our brother, but the real battle is about to begin, and it's a battle we could still yet lose.

To Be Continued. . . . . . . . . . . . .

A.N. . . . . . . . . . . . . So the un-sub failed, or did he? Will Reid have the strength to survive? Tune in next time to find out. Catch you all soon, Peanut x