NOTE: My apologies for the delay in posting; I'm navigating an unexpected, extremely bumpy patch of 'real life' right now. I appreciate your patience.

Chapter 36

Darkness.

Usually the complete absence of light disturbed Reid, scared him. Which is why the feeling of calm, coupled with immense relief, he now felt as the soft, silent darkness wrapped around him like a security blanket, also contained a tiny speck of uncertainty.

Reid's mind had just a moment to form the thought 'See, I told you this was better', before his brain suddenly swamped him with images of the basement room, flooded him with pain from the torture and mental torment he was enduring, and let him become aware of the sound of ringing.

'No, wait, stay' his mind shrieked at Reid, as he opened his eyes to find himself still pressed against his captor, whose hand was now completely past the waistband of his pants, and half-way into his cotton briefs. Horrified, Reid realized the man's fingertips were about one second away from reaching his most private body part, when he also became aware of the fact that the man's hand was still. Before his brain could fully process what was happening, Reid once again heard the ringing sound.

The doorbell was what saved him.

When Derek had been enjoying a previous boyfriend down in the basement rooms, the soundproofing had made him miss answering his door when a courier company came to deliver some computer hardware he'd ordered. Unfortunately, the rules around answering doors, and phones, were extremely strict. As were the punishments. Once his self-inflicted injuries had healed sufficiently, Derek had immediately gone out and bought what he needed to install speakers in each basement room that would let him hear his doorbell, or his land line phone. His cell phone he always kept in his pocket.

Luckily, Derek's brain was so attuned to listen for the sound, that when the doorbell rang this time, even though his mind had completely broken from his conscious regulation, his brain threaded through and stopped his hand from reaching the point of no return; stopped Derek from reaching the point when his brain could no longer access the solid darkness of his mind to reel him back under control.

"SHIT" Derek shouted into Reid's ear, leaving it ringing.

As quickly as he'd reached Reid's side, Derek pulled his hand back out of Reid's pants, digging his nails painfully into Reid's soft skin at the same time, then flung him away and raced towards the door. As the ringing continued, Derek wrenched the door open, flinging the ominous words "We'll finish this later" over his shoulder, and stormed up the stairs.

Reid lay on the floor where he'd landed, his ear still ringing, his chest almost beyond pain now, his nipples so sore he knew there must be some kind of permanent tissue damage. Gulping down the sobs that threatened to erupt, his breathing still erratic, Reid felt completely paralyzed; unable to move, unable to think, unable stop his mind from repeating, 'Why? Why didn't you stay in the silence?'….

Rossi laid his head back against the headrest of the SUV, closed his eyes, and realized he felt very, very old. Behind him in the backseat was Reid's suitcase; in the end it had been impossible to examine it in Reid's home, so the team would go through it in the impersonal atmosphere of Quantico. Hotch had decided the whole investigation would be moved there, now that an FBI agent was involved.

Morgan's explanation on how the Unsub had entered Reid's apartment was sound. It was the only answer that fit into their theory of stranger abduction. Rossi had congratulated Morgan on his good work, even though he knew Morgan was too angry right now to accept it. Hotch had stayed silent while the others hashed out how it may have gone down.

"If the Unsub was able to quickly remove the locks, and disable the alarm, does that mean he was in the apartment previously? Does it indicate a current tenant of the building is the kidnapper? Does our serial killer just happen to be neighbours with an FBI agent, and why pick Reid as a victim? And how was he removed?" Hotch questioned the group, "It's getting late. Once we finish up here tonight, we'll regroup early tomorrow to go over all of the evidence so far, including from each of the crime scenes."

Putting his hand up to stop Morgan from speaking, knowing he would protest not racing immediately back to Quantico, Hotch continued, "Time is of the essence, but rest is equally essential for optimum mental capabilities. We don't all have brains like..." He left the rest unsaid but they all knew who he meant.

Rossi had been glad Hotch wanted the group to get some rest. They had only just finished up a difficult case in Atlanta, and they couldn't afford to make any mistakes with this one. As Rossi had thought earlier, if Reid was already dead, a few more hours wouldn't make any difference; if he was still alive, he would need his teammates at their best to figure out where he was. Rossi's mind tried to turn towards the crime scene photos from the last murder victim, tried to make him imagine Reid's thin body covered with the same brutal wounds, but Rossi had too much prior experience with evil to allow it. Over the years he'd managed to develop enough mental gymnastics to keep even the worst images at bay; he wouldn't be able to function effectively in his job otherwise. He hoped the others would be able to block out enough to continue with the case, everyone's input would definitely be required to unravel this organized killer's extremely well-developed game plan.

Now, Rossi was waiting in the SUV for Hotch to finish speaking to Detective Green. Hotch was making arrangements for every tenant in the building to be questioned, as well as Mrs. Freeman and her husband, who had still not showed up. On the surface, this looked extremely suspicious, and one of their theories was that the killer lived in the building; but Rossi didn't think he was a legitimate suspect. From what he had seen of the man when Rossi first came to Reid's apartment, he didn't think he had the intelligence to plan and execute this abduction, never mind the other murders.

Hotch was also making arrangements for he and Rossi to come back tomorrow to question Robbie. The kid, funny enough, was the closest person to Reid in his private life and probably knew more than he was aware of. Besides, Hotch had posted a 24 hour guard over Reid's apartment, as he wanted the team to go back through it once they were a little more mentally prepared, and he wanted to make sure Robbie was introduced to the officer that would be on duty when he went in each day to feed the fish. It was Rossi who convinced Hotch to let Robbie continue with this chore; he didn't see why Reid's fish shouldn't be taken care of until his prayed for return, and since the boy had been going into the apartment all along, Rossi couldn't see why it should have to change as long as he didn't touch anything. The crime scene investigators had been through the place with a fine tooth comb, taking samples, prints and pictures; Robbie wouldn't change the outcome of any of their findings.

"The husband's been located" Hotch said as he entered the SUV, "Green's having him brought down to the station. He's supposedly drunk, so Green's going to see if he can get anything out of him, then throw him into the drunk tank and requestion him tomorrow. I'm going to send Prentiss down to monitor the session, ask some questions."

Both men were silent for a moment, both thinking the same thing; normally it would be Morgan sent to question the man, but they couldn't risk him losing his temper if he at all suspected the guy had anything to do with Reid's disappearance. Rossi made a mental note to speak to Prentiss about what sort of information she would need to dig for.

"There are just so many questions, Dave." Hotch's voice echoed the anguish he felt; the overwhelmingly strong, acidic emotion he'd been bottling up all evening.

Rossi stayed silent as Hotch pressed one arm against his gut while he laid his head against the other lying across the top of the steering wheel. For a few minutes all that was heard in the SUV was Hotch's deep, ragged breathing as he struggled to contain his anger, his frustration, and his tears. Then Rossi gently laid a hand on Hotch's leg for a moment in a show of silent support, while he once again said calmly, "We'll figure it out, Aaron. He won't win."...

It was a memory from years back that finally penetrated the screaming chant in Reid's head. The team had been in an Unsub's bedroom, trying to figure out his computer password. Unfortunately it was set up so that after a certain number of unsuccessful tries, the hard drive would be wiped out. Gideon recited a quote to Morgan, 'Try, fail, try better'; Morgan had immediately responded with his own quote 'Try not, do or do not.' Reid had pondered afterwards, which of these was right. Of course, the second was from a movie, Star Wars, so had only been created by the screenwriter; but Reid had found over the years that sometimes it actually made some sense.

But why had his brain decided to retrieve that memory? Reid struggled to quiet his roaring mind, his intellectual curiosity beginning once again to assert itself. Reid remembered the self he had been back then; before Hankel, before drugs, before deadly illness, before enormous physical pain, before emotions. His work colleagues had still been just that, had not yet evolved into the close friends they became, had not yet dragged his small, scared, deeply buried emotional side forward.

Suddenly he realized what his brain was trying to tell him. He had to decide which quote he was going to follow; he was at turning point now, he either had to keep trying to stay awake and escape, or he had to stop trying and let himself "do not", let himself admit defeat and sink into the oblivion.

Slowly Reid got on his knees and crawled towards the cot, each movement leaving him in complete agony. Before retreating into the warm embrace of his comforter, he slipped off his soaked pants and underwear, the ammonia causing the scratches on his lower abdomen to sting. Naked, keeping his eyes focused on his nightlight, Reid let his mind fully concentrate on deciding which way to go, as he unconsciously slipped his thumb into his mouth.