Chapter 35

The first time Morgan ever laid eyes on Dr. Spencer Reid, he thought someone was playing a joke on him. Knowing Morgan wanted to eventually train the new cadets on a regular basis in combat/defence techniques, the head of that department regularly called on him to assist in the larger classes.

Morgan, successful high school jock, tough Chicago ex-cop, muscular gym rat, loved putting the younger men and women through their paces. In his mind, it was absolutely imperative that an agent in a position to be out in the field, must at all times be able to defend themselves without a gun; if you couldn't be fairly guaranteed a win in a fight, then you belonged behind a desk.

Since joining the BAU, Morgan's views had only relaxed a tad. That the team relied mainly on intelligence, and instinct was an absolute; but a physical element still existed (the truth of this argument would be borne out a few months later when Morgan made a leap between two buildings while chasing an Unsub.)

So, his first impression upon seeing a tall, painfully thin, awkward white kid who, besides the fact that he looked like a strong wind would knock him flat, appeared to be young enough to still be sitting in a high school classroom, was that the trainer was pulling a prank. 'No way could that guy have passed the physical requirements to join the Academy to become an FBI cadet' he thought to himself, as he turned towards the trainer, expecting to see him hiding a smile.

Instead he heard the man say, "See that guy over there? You'll mainly be working with him today. He's supposedly some kind of genius, a protégée of Gideon's. He, apparently, is not required to actually pass any of the physical challenges, but we're supposed to do what we can with him." Then the trainer shrugged, as if in apology for having to foist this wimp on Morgan.

Morgan scowled. Big brains didn't impress him in the least. If this kid thought just because he was super smart he'd be able to lord it over everyone else in the Bureau, he was in for a rude awakening. Morgan smirked, 'Kid's not going to be able to move by the time I'm through with him' he thought.

Walking up to the skinny, young man, Morgan introduced himself, prepared with an insulting retort if the kid seemed to be in anyway condescending towards him. But, instead, Reid had shyly ducked his head as he told Morgan his name. He didn't shake Morgan's hand; in fact he took a few steps back from him. Morgan, unsure how to interpret this behaviour, decided to keep his profiling skills highly attuned, intending to have the kid figured out by the end of the day.

Morgan shook his head a bit, as the memories of that first day flooded back while he stood in Reid's apartment. That was nearly eight years ago, and not only was the skinny, white kid one of his closest friends, Morgan still hadn't figured him out, not completely. 'Now you may never get the chance' was the thought that instantly materialized, but Morgan quickly subdued it, slamming yet another intellectual cement wall down in his brain.

When Rossi had come to tell them that Hotch figured the bedroom was the point of abduction, Prentiss had gone with him, but Morgan had ignored the request. It was bad enough they, along with the lab techs, were tromping all through Reid's home, invading his personal space; there was no way Morgan could make himself move into Reid's bedroom, a person's ultimate place of privacy. Living rooms, kitchens, bathrooms; these were communal places of a home, shared by others. But your bedroom, this was a place only people you wanted to be there would go; and Morgan knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that Reid would not want ANY of them in his bedroom. So Morgan would not, could not, go there.

Letting himself slide once again down memory lane, Morgan remembered the very first exercise the group had been asked to do. One person would make a dash towards the other, a fist raised for a blow; the other person had to block the move, and subdue the attacker if they could. Nearly everyone there could prevent the fist from hitting them; a few knew how to also control the attacker. But not Reid.

Morgan had run towards him, fist raised, scowl on his face, and Reid had just stood there, riveted to the floor, eyes widening with real fear, his complete vulnerability shining through, along with something else that Morgan could not identify. It was this combination of emotions that had stayed Morgan's hand, had actually stopped him in his tracks. For the rest of the session, he'd been at Reid's side, helping him to learn the merest basics; still unsure what it was he'd seen in Reid's eyes.

Once Reid graduated and joined the BAU, Morgan had taken him under his wing immediately. From the first day, Reid's sensitivity, vulnerability, and naiveté created a 'big brother, little brother' bond with Morgan that had never been broken. Until now. When Reid needed him the most! Morgan, once again, mentally slammed another wall in place, suppressing his guilt and pain.

"I have to figure out how he got into this apartment" Morgan said quietly to himself. He wanted to be the one who discovered the answer; he NEEDED it to be him...

Reid stared at the sole of his captor's foot, aware that if he didn't do what was asked he would be severely punished, but having no idea how to make himself do it. Fighting desperately not to vomit, Reid opened his mouth, but immediately closed it again. Shaking his head, Reid shifted his head slightly so he could see Derek's face.

Derek's smile shook Reid to the core.

"If you don't lick my foot, you'll be strapped down with a special mask I created and made to lick me in another, more interesting, place."

Derek planned to use the mask eventually, of course, but had no qualms about bringing it out at this early juncture. In fact, now that he was talking about it, Derek wished he had used it today; his body was beginning to actually ache with lust for the handsome young man, and thinking of things he could do with him once he was in the mask made Derek's mouth start to water.

Shame filled Reid as he once again opened his mouth. Humiliated at what he was going to do, Reid stuck out his tongue as far as it would possibly go in order to put as much distance as he could between his face and the foot. With tears of disgust prickling the sides of his eyes, Reid touched the barest hint of the tip of his tongue to Derek's flesh. Moving quickly, he ran it up from heel to toes. A tiny sob escaped as Reid realized he was afraid to pull his tongue back into his mouth; the mere thought of it nauseated him.

Moments later he was sprawled on the floor, his mouth bloody from where his teeth had snapped against his extended tongue when Derek viciously kicked him in the chest. Even the throbbing pain of his whip marks, one of which had started to ooze again, couldn't override the feeling of horror that Reid felt about his tongue, his contaminated tongue, now touching the soft tissues of his mouth.

"Get up"

Derek voice sounded choked. Waves upon waves of intense desire had descended upon him when his 'Mr. Right' had licked his foot. That it had been done so reluctantly made it all the sweeter. Derek was panting heavily now, unsure if he should continue with his game plan. Gripping the sides of the chair, Derek let Reid stand in silence for a few minutes as he battled his physical urges. Luckily, Derek's mind was still on board with the original plan, and still in command enough not to let his baser needs move to the fore.

Once his breathing levelled out a bit, Derek pondered for a moment if he should finish this later. Gazing at his 'boyfriend's' slim torso, he decided to forge ahead, confident in his ability to maintain his equilibrium.

"Touch yourself." Derek whispered, his eyes glowing in anticipation.

Reid didn't move, he couldn't. Confused, he was afraid to ask his captor where. The tears that had been teasing the corners of his eyes finally made their way slowly down his pale cheeks. Derek watched his new possession's eyes get impossibly wide, the raw emotion in them, heartbreaking to see for any of his teammates, only causing Derek to shift in his chair as his body began to crave satisfaction.

Derek ripped open his own shirt, buttons flying everywhere, as he instructed, "Make yours hard" while pointing to his own nipples.

Reid's mind had had enough. It urged Reid to leave, to let it hide him in the deep darkness it could provide, away from all the pain, the hurt. But Reid still resisted, afraid that if he did let himself sink into the blessed oblivion, it might end up permanent. Taking shallow breaths as he tried to control his surging stomach, Reid slowly moved his trembling hands up to his chest...

To the average person, Reid's door gave no sign that it had been breached. The assumption would logically have to be that, due to the lack of damage to the door or the doorframe, unless someone had picked the locks, which due to the complexity of these wasn't a viable answer, the door must have been opened to the Unsub from the inside.

But Morgan wasn't an average person. He was someone who purchased dilapidated properties that he renovated in his spare time. To save costs, he'd taught himself most of the relevant construction aspects, all except complex plumbing and electrical; so when he examined the apartment door, he did so with quite a different perspective.

At first glance, all seemed usual. Even at second glance, the door and doorframe refused to give up its clues. It was only when Morgan got onto his hands and knees, his hands slowly passing over each inch of the wood, his eyes mere inches from the frame, that he finally discovered something. The receiving plate for one of the locks had a hairs width band of lighter wood on the side of it. Squinting, Morgan nearly pressed his nose against the wall as he traced the line with his fingertip.

"This guy is a professional" he muttered, knowing how meticulous the Unsub had to have been to have been able to replace the locks in the exactly the same spots they were removed from. The contrasting colour of the wood was proof that this section had been covered up until very recently; only wood unexposed to the environment and people would retain its original pale colour. Luckily Reid's apartment building was extremely old, so the rest of the wood now had a dark patina.

But he had made one mistake. Probably in a hurry to leave with Reid, he had missed his mark by a mere whisper; but that was all Morgan needed to decipher at least part of the mystery of Reid's abduction. The Unsub had removed the locks and entered the apartment secretly. How he managed to know which locks Reid would have, or how he got Reid out of the apartment without detection remained questions to be answered.

Morgan stood up slowly, his mind racing. As he walked towards the bedroom to tell the others of his discovery, he still would not step a foot into it, Morgan began silently listing the number of professions their Unsub might work in that would require that skill...

It seemed to Reid that he'd been abusing himself for hours. Silent tears now streamed down his face as he followed the instructions Derek was calling out, his voice getting evermore ragged with tension.

"Pinch. Pinch harder"

"Pull. More, more" Reid saw Derek aim his camera and cringed.

"Rub them, faster. I said faster!"

"Flick them, with your tips." Reid watched in horror as Derek reached up to mirror Reid's movements with his own nipples, grunting with pleasure.

"Pinch and pull. Now, scrape them with your nails. Do it!"

This move was the one that undid Derek. Reid's poor sensitive flesh, which had already been previously tortured by Derek, finally cracked and started to slightly bleed. As Reid kept rubbing, stinging pain now added to the rest, Derek stared at the blood, the faintest whiff of it seeming to galvanize his body's strained urges. With shaking hands, Derek rapidly snapped picture after picture, whispering to himself, "Oh they'll love these. He'll think these are the best ones yet."

Then Derek's mind broke.

Flying to Reid's side, he instantly had Reid's wrists grasped in his left hand and pulled behind his back. With Reid's back pressed against Derek's chest, he began to slide his flat hand straight down Reid's smooth torso; soon slipping it underneath the waistband of Reid's pants.

With his lust blood rushing through him, his ears filled with its pounding refrain, Derek couldn't hear Reid's soft pleas, "No, oh no. Please don't. Please. Please don't. No, no, please, no..."