Jane, you weren't gone long, but it's good to have you back! Thanks for your reviews as always, and for pointing out my typo... I must have been in a hurry on that one. You're right that it's more like novel pacing... I have a lot more chapters planned. This will be a long one, for sure. I do have a major interest in abnormal psychology, and I think the readers will understand Reid's inner turmoil better if they see Al as human. I sometimes wish I didn't understand controlling relationships so well.

True, moira4eku, Reid is a brave young man. I thought he could have handled the Hankel situation better, but chalked it up to inexperience and drug abuse. This is Reid with just a little more grit at his disposal.

Warning: More creepiness. Nothing too explicit. Keep teddy close.

Setting: Starts in Reid's flashback. After the break it goes to Morgan's point of view in the interview room.

Surviving 16: Exceeding Tedium

After dinner, he cuffed me to the couch again and left me there while he did the dishes. Then he came to sit with me. He pulled me against him and caressed me while he watched the TV screen. I was starting to get used to the hand going through my hair or reaching into my open shirt. I let myself believe that he loved me, to cut down on the horror that I felt.

He loves me; he just doesn't understand boundaries. Doesn't realize I need to love him back before he takes these liberties. Doesn't know that a lack of response isn't consent. It's not his fault… he isn't trying to hurt me.

I told myself those things over and over. I could easily tell myself how wrong it was later, when I was safe. But it was hard to shut out the other thoughts…

It's been over twenty-four hours. They're going to be twice as worried now. They have so little to go on. I hope they're following up with the papers. Expanding the search to other papers. Identifying the people who placed the ads. Narrowing the possible area the unsub lives in…

"You seem lost in thought," Al said.

I'd let myself get too distracted. I needed to play my part at all times. "Sorry," I said, searching for an explanation.

"Still thinking about your friends?"

"A little," I admitted grudgingly.

"Don't worry," he said, rubbing my head as if it would erase the anxiety. "It's okay to be happy here with me. They'll get over it."

With an effort, I snuggled into his side. "I like that," I said, and it wasn't a complete lie—I'd always found a scalp massage to be soothing, in spite of its making me want to wash my hair after. Besides, it bothered me a lot less than some of the other ways Al had been touching me, so if I could get him to do this more and that less, I wouldn't feel as helpless.

"Good," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm really happy with you, Spencer. Today was a good day."

I nodded.

"I just wish I didn't have to leave tomorrow."

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I have to work."

"Where?"

"I hate to have to leave you by yourself all day," he went on, ignoring my question. "But I'll try to make it up to you when I get home."

"What will I do while you're gone?"

"I could leave you with a book to read…"

"It would have to be a stack of them to last me more than half an hour or so."

He leaned to the side to look at my face. "Oh, yeah?"

"I read faster than most people."

"Hm. I'll make it a stack, then."

"Okay… eight hours is a long time to go without peeing, too."

"You do it when you sleep."

"Yeah… I know."

"You want a catheter or a bedpan?" he asked seriously. "Because I can do that. Or an adult diaper."

I grimaced. "I should be able to hold it."

He chuckled and kissed my temple. "Let's get ready for bed."

.

I looked at the time and was surprised to see that it was after three. Reid wasn't even quite done with his account of Sunday.

"You know," I said as I stretched, "you don't have to give an exact word-for-word account of every conversation."

"I know," he said, "but I remember every word, so I might as well be as accurate as I can."

"Well, it's up to you."

"I'm sorry. I know it's hard for you to listen to… and it's probably exceedingly tedious."

I shook my head. "No need to apologize. I've got nowhere to be."

He took a minute to gather his thoughts and take a drink of water. "That night was about like the one before," he said. "The biggest difference to me was that my joints were sore from being tied up so much. But that did give me some distraction from his hand running all over me. I stayed as still as I could, because I knew that was what he wanted, and I concentrated on the pain instead."

And this is only Sunday night, I kept thinking. That bastard had him five more days and four more nights.

"Monday, we got up earlier, and he made breakfast again. He let me sit in the kitchen while he was making it, and I was grateful because I knew I'd be tied up all day. After breakfast, he took me to the bathroom like usual."

"Was he still watching you in the bathroom?" I asked.

"Yeah. He always did.

"He left me the books like he said he would, and he left my right hand untied. To make sure I couldn't use it to untie myself, he used the handcuffs for my left hand.

"'Eight books. That should keep you busy.' I could tell he thought there was no way I would get through half of them. After he said that, he leaned down and kissed my mouth. He ran his hand over my chest while he was kissing me. It was the first time he'd kissed me on the lips, so I was kind of… it shook me up more than it should have."

There are no rules about how shaken up you're allowed to be when someone violates you, kid.

"I couldn't get myself to kiss him back, but considering how docile he liked me to be, maybe it's just as well. He seemed perfectly happy, regardless.

"He said, 'I'll miss you, Spencer.' I told him, 'I'll miss you, too.' He smiled and ran his hand through my hair one more time before leaving.

"It was the first time he'd closed the bedroom door since I'd gotten there, and I heard him turning a key in the lock. It was frustrating because I knew that even if I got untied, I would have to either go out the window or deal with a locked door.

"Of course, I knew I wouldn't be getting untied that day. I didn't have anything I could pick the handcuff lock with. I searched the nightstand, and all I found in it were a spare rope, condoms, lubricant and a lighter. The lighter didn't have a lot of fluid left in it. A quick calculation told me I couldn't hope to heat a link of the handcuff chain enough to weaken and break it before I ran out of fuel. So, I put everything back as I found it.

"I felt around for a broken mattress spring or anything else I could hope to pick a lock with, but there was nothing within my reach. I thought about trying to break the window at the other side of the room, but there were blackout curtains over it, so I couldn't judge what kind of glass I was dealing with, or how big the panes were. If it was too sturdy I'd just have a pile of objects under the window when Al got back, and it wouldn't be hard for him to figure out that I'd been trying to get someone's attention.

"So, I finally just started reading the books. Since they were his books, they told me what he was interested in: art, three on photography, two on chemistry, taxidermy and first aid. It was hard concentrating at first, but I knew I had to pass the time somehow. I started with the book on art. It didn't hold a lot of new information for me, but I read the whole thing anyway."

Reid gave a summary of each of the six books he'd read in Heathbridge's room that day, and I have to admit I glazed over a little bit. It seemed to me like the books' contents had nothing to do with our case, and if we really wanted to know what books he had, we could just go to the crime scene and see. But I let him tell his story his own way.

"After the second chemistry book, I couldn't read any more. But I didn't have long to wait before Al got home. He hugged me and kissed my face and told me he missed me. I said I missed him too, thinking only of the denotative definition of the words so I could say it truthfully. He hobbled my feet and uncuffed me to take me to the bathroom. He asked me if I got much reading done. 'I read six of them,' I said. 'No, you didn't,' he said, smiling like he thought I was joking. I said, 'You can quiz me on them if you want.'

"He didn't just watch me in the bathroom this time. He… he put his hand on my hip while I was relieving myself."

Reid paused, staring at the table and working his jaw for a moment. He reached for his water and took a drink. Then he went on, "He took me back to the bedroom and opened one of the photography books at random. He asked me what the author said his favorite type of photo was, and I answered immediately, 'The black-and-white portrait in natural light. He said that on page sixty-three.'"

I smiled for the first time since we'd stopped for lunch. "I bet that knocked him out."

"He was pretty surprised." Reid was almost smiling too. Not quite. "He asked me some more stuff from the books and when I got everything right he said, 'I can't believe I found someone with a photographic memory.' I didn't correct him because I figured he would like the sound of 'photographic' more than 'eidetic,' being a photographer, himself. He said, 'Everything about you is perfect.' He started stroking my face. 'I've fallen in love with you.' He kissed me, and this time I made an effort to kiss him back. His fantasy was taking off and I didn't want to do anything that might stop it. I was sure he hadn't hurt me so far because I'd been so compliant. If I resisted, he might do anything."

He didn't need to explain his motivation; I would have known without his spelling it out. Maybe he was doing it for the benefit of the jury, or whoever else might listen to the transcript later.

Reid described dinner that night, their conversation mostly on the books Reid had read during the day. Then Heathbridge had cuffed Reid to the couch again so he could watch TV while Heathbridge went to work in his darkroom for an hour or so.

"'When he came back out, he told me, 'Your prints are coming out beautifully.' I forced a little smile and said, 'Good. Maybe you can teach me how to develop them. I'd like to learn.' He said maybe, but not like it would happen anytime soon. He was obsessed with me, but not to the point that he completely trusted me yet. I guess he thought I might try to throw the acid bath in his face or something."

That would have been great…

"He tied my hands again to take me to the bathroom before bed, and this time he stood close behind me. He put one arm around me—his other hand had the knife… he always had that knife—and he… he held me against his chest. I couldn't relax like that. He asked me what was wrong and I said, 'Sorry, I'm just a little nervous.' He kissed my neck and said, 'It's okay. I love everything about you.' And he rubbed my chest. I had to completely ignore him and micromanage every muscle in my body to finally relax enough to pee. I had to defecate afterward, and thank god he didn't touch me while I was doing that. He untied my hands so I could clean up.

"He took me back to the bedroom and had me take off my shirt before he tied me in for the night. This time, he changed in the bedroom, and since I was pretty sure it was what he wanted, I watched him. I stared at his collarbone so I wouldn't have to look him in the eye, and I wouldn't be drawn to look anywhere else. He wasn't muscley, but he was built like someone who took decent care of himself. I thought we'd be pretty evenly matched in a fight.

"He left his shirt off, too, and put his arms around me as soon as he put the lights out. I didn't like feeling so much skin against my skin, but I kept still like I knew he wanted me to. I was getting better at shutting it out. He kissed my shoulder and said, 'Good night, Spencer. I love you.'" Reid's voice shook when he said the last few words.

"I didn't wake up during the night, but I did early in the morning, and I was pretty sure I'd had some nightmares that wouldn't quite come back to me. Al's arms were still around me, and he was lying against me with his leg between mine."

He sounded hollow again, having to separate his emotions from his account so he could keep going. My phone buzzed and I unlocked the screen to find a text from Hotch.

Break there for today.

"It's four-thirty. Let's stop there."

"Okay."

We went out to the bullpen where the others were grouped around Rossi's desk, discussing the case we'd been asked to consult on. Reid went to stand by JJ, and I stepped aside with Hotch.

"I knew from the SAFE that some really rough things were coming up soon," Hotch said quietly. "I figured it would be better to leave off there."

I nodded.

"Also, I got word that Heathbridge's lawyer requested that he be arraigned in Maryland first because two of our known victims were from Maryland."

"You're kidding me. Heathbridge is from Virginia. How many vics have they identified?"

"Four. One was from West Virginia; Reid is the only one from Virginia so far."

"When they try him in Maryland, he won't get the death penalty. We'll have to have him extradited back here again for the crimes against Reid."

"That's right. We'll see if it plays out that way."

"Damn, how long is all of this going to take?"

Hotch shook his head and looked in Reid's direction. "Probably far too long."

I'm trying to be believable, but I'm not an expert on the legal system. So, even though that's not the main focus of the story, if I get something really, problematically wrong, please point it out. Thanks for reading! I know it was another slow chapter (ergo the title). I hope it builds the suspense.