Hello, everyone. Hope you've been well. Thanks for continuing to read the story, even though it may creep you out or make you ill.

Thanks for more reviews, M4E. ^^ It will be interesting... that's all I can say. Glad you liked supportive Hotch. Wish we could all have someone like that near us.

Warning: non-con touching, ethical turmoil. Uncomfortable to say the least.

Setting: Back in Reid's flashback, Wednesday morning.

Surviving 22: Bide My Time

"What kind of solvent is this?" I asked Al as I worked on cleaning the carpet beside his bed Wednesday morning.

"It's my own mixture," he said.

"Do you like chemistry?"

"Eh… I like it enough to use it for stuff." He put his hand on my head and petted me like I was a well-behaved dog.

"I'm really sorry… about what happened," I said meekly, keeping my eyes on the spot I was cleaning.

"No, it's okay, Spencer. I tried to rush you too much. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I shouldn't have hit you. I just felt… rejected, I guess." He touched my face softly.

This was an apology. I looked up at him and couldn't detect any trace of deception or even manipulation in his face. "I understand," I said.

"Once that mess is gone, we can forget all about it."

I was a little startled to hear a chirping sound coming from outside the room. It was a phone. I hadn't seen Al use a phone since I woke up in his house.

"Keep going; I'll be right back," he said.

I sprayed the spot down again while he left the room, but then I just listened, letting the cleaning solution soak in for a while.

I could hear Al's voice coming from near the front door. "Hello? Hey... Today isn't great… You sure you can't get anyone else?" He sighed. "Fine. I'll do it... Yeah, okay... Yup. Bye."

I went back to scrubbing, and was glad to see that the dried semen-spit mixture was coming out of the carpet.

"That was work," Al said as he came back into the room. "I'll probably have to stay a little later than usual."

He seemed disappointed, so I said, "That sucks."

"Yeah. I'll try to get done as soon as I can, though. I'll be thinking about you the whole time."

I pushed a smile up at him. "Really? The whole time?"

He petted my head again. "I can't stop thinking about you. Ever since we met, you've been my world." He slid his hands down my shoulders and I realized that he wasn't holding the knife at the moment.

With my hands and feet tied… I don't stand a chance. I told myself to bide my time and make getting hold of that phone my first priority.

"Since you have to be gone longer, can you leave me untied this time?" I asked lightly.

He knelt to hug me from behind and kissed my neck. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. Not yet, anyway. You're everything to me… I can't risk losing you."

I wanted to pull away from him, but instead I leaned into his embrace. "I want you to trust me," I said. "I'll make you happy. You'll see."

"You already make me happy." He kissed my jaw. "I love you."

Gee, if it weren't for the conspicuous handcuffs, it might really seem like we were a devoted young couple. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and pictured my friends grouped around me. I focused on JJ's warm expression and managed to get out, "I love you, too."

I could tell right away that I had pushed the right button. Al wrapped his arms tighter around me and kissed his way to my mouth. "Thank you, Spencer," he whispered. "I know it's hard for you to say the words, but I knew you wanted to."

He was both perceptive and delusional at the same time. I'd find his case very interesting if I weren't his victim.

I need to not think of myself as a victim… even if I am one. I'm not going to become a statistic. I'm going to escape.

"I can leave you something to eat since you'll have to wait longer for dinner," he said, still holding me.

My foot was falling asleep. "Okay," I said. "Maybe you should leave me in the bathroom, since you're going to be gone so long?"

He shook his head. "I don't have a good way to cuff you in there. You can pee right before I go and I'll leave you a bottle just in case—but try not to use it."

"Okay."

He kissed my face again and then got up.

I shifted, sending my foot into the pins-and-needles phase. Ouch.

"Looks like you've about got that cleaned up," he observed. "I'll be back in a minute and take you to the bathroom."

I nodded. Al's solvent had made short work of the mess. I had drawn out the cleaning a little because it kept me away from other possible activities.

He had his knife when he came back into the room. We took care of the cleaning supplies and then he accompanied me to the toilet.

I wondered how effective that cleaning solution would be if I sprayed it in his eyes. I would have to keep that as a possible part of my plan. I wished I had thought of it when he wasn't holding his knife. Another opportunity will come. He's getting a little less strict about carrying it all the time.

Al tugged my pants down further, apparently not satisfied with my current level of exposure. I felt his pelvis pressing against my buttocks. I forced myself to concentrate on fully emptying my bladder; it was going to be a long time before I could pee again.

When I reached for the toilet paper, he grabbed my wrist. "Let me do that for you," he whispered, sending a shudder through me.

I numbly handed the tissue over. He's dextrous with his left hand, I thought to myself as he effectively made sure I was clean.

He dropped the crumpled tissue into the toilet, but before I could move to flush it, he put his hand back between my legs and I froze.

Don't move… don't move… For god's sake, can't you just leave me alone?! I was starting to panic. "Al," I gasped, "you have to go to work."

He sighed. "I know." He tucked me back into my underwear and pulled my pants back up. He slid his hand up under my shirt while I fastened my fly. "I wish I didn't have to go." He kissed the back of my neck. "I'll make it up to you, though. What do you want for dinner?"

I asked him to pick something up from one of my favorite restaurants. I figured that if Al were on the BAU's suspect list by now, and if Garcia saw that he had made a purchase there, it might get her thinking on the right track. A long shot, but I had to try something.

He agreed and took me back to the bedroom. Once I was secured to the bed, he brought me more books, a water bottle, a granola bar and the empty bottle he had promised me.

"I love you, Spencer. I'll see you tonight." He leaned down to kiss me, and I made myself kiss him back.

.

It was nice being able to eat the granola bar around lunchtime, but I carefully rationed my water. I really didn't want to use that bottle. I could hold it. I'd had to wait a long time to use the bathroom many times, with all the lockers and closets I'd been locked in over the years, not to mention staking out possible crime locations.

I read one of the books, but then I lay back and made myself think about strategy. I had almost lost it in the bathroom that morning. I couldn't slip up again. I had to be ready for whatever he did to me. He had been very happy with me when he left, and he was going to want intimacy after his long day at work. No matter what he did, I had to take it. I could do it. I had to. Even though his apology made me sure that we were back on good terms, if he felt rejected again, he might go further next time. Self-control was not a virtue that he seemed to possess.

I fell asleep for a little while. I wasn't sure what time it was when I woke up. Al's house was always dark because of the blackout curtains he kept on the windows, and he didn't have a clock in his room. That might have been strategic—it would be harder for me to plan an escape if I didn't know how long I had before he got home.

I read a little more before I finally heard his car. I was starting to recognize its individual sound. It was a six-cylinder engine. Sometimes the brakes whined, but that had just been on Monday when it was raining. The engine hesitated once when he was starting it, but he hadn't had to try a second time. None of that told me the make or model, much less what color or what the license plate said, but I thought that I might be able to recognize the sound, should it become useful information.

He didn't come to the bedroom right away. I heard him moving around in the kitchen and then the bathroom. I wasn't exactly eager to see him, but I wished he would hurry up and take me to the bathroom. I had been shifting position uncomfortably for the last half hour.

Finally, he came in. "Hey, Spencer," he said warmly. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long."

"It's okay," I said. "I held it, but I really need to go now."

"Okay, I've got you." He quickly rearranged the ropes on my legs and then produced the key to the handcuffs.

I uncuffed myself from the bed and dutifully moved the vacant cuff to my free wrist. The need to pee was a strong incentive for compliance. I gave the key back.

"I've got everything ready so you can take a shower after dinner," he said.

"Oh. Thanks… that would be nice." Don't think about Psycho, don't think about Psycho…

But I was thinking about it. What if this was it? Now that he was happy with me, he was putting me in the tub to cut me up… he'd go out looking for a new lover and I'd be dissolving in chemicals in his backyard…

There was a paper bag on the bathroom counter, but Al didn't say anything about it.

Oh, god… is that a bag of tools? A hacksaw? I don't want to die like this…

"I have a surprise for you after your shower," he said, wrapping both arms around me while I peed. His knife was pointed up toward my face, but his tone belied any intention of hurting me. "I think you'll really like it."

I'll like it? He can't think I would like being cut into pieces, right? I thought hopefully.

He didn't try to touch me below the waist this time, and I was grateful, but still suspicious. I tried to ignore the bag on the counter while I washed my hands.

He led me by the hand to the kitchen, where he had laid out our dinner. He pulled out my chair for me and seated me. Then he gently kissed my cheek where he had bruised it the night before. "I hope you're hungry," he said, going to sit across from me.

He had gotten just what I had asked for. It was nice to have something familiar… but I couldn't help wondering if it was my last supper. "Thank you for getting this," I said.

"No problem. I'm glad to give you something you like. I really missed you today."

I thought I must be overreacting, but I couldn't stop the grim thoughts. Will you miss me when I'm gone? "I missed you, too," I lied. Please, don't kill me.

He smiled. "I can't wait until the weekend. Just two more days of work. Then we can spend all our time together."

Alive, I hope? Or do you plan to keep my corpse awhile?

"I want to get to know you better," he went on. "I'm so happy you're here." He seemed to really mean it. Maybe I would live until the weekend after all.

"I want to know you better, too." Maybe it will tell me how I can get away from you… "I've never known anyone like you." That was true in the sense that everyone is an individual, but I'd met only too many people like him in my line of work.

He smiled at me again.

We ate quietly after that. It was weird, but I realized after a minute or two that we had fallen into what would almost pass for a "comfortable silence." I was still aware that I was a prisoner, but I wasn't afraid at the moment. Since he wasn't talking, he wasn't unsettling me. I caught him watching me a couple of times, but it wasn't an unnerving, psychopathic stare. He would smile and look back at his food right away. Like a normal person caught admiring the object of his affections.

He really is in love with me, or as close as he can come to it. He doesn't understand how things are supposed to work, but he's trying his best. He thinks he's found his one-in-a-million. If I shatter that delusion, he'll be destroyed. He'll almost definitely lash out and kill me.

Or… maybe he'll just kill me because, if I'm not his true love, he'll need to find a new one. He can't find a new one with me around. He can't let me go because I'll implicate him. Maybe killing isn't part of his compulsion at all. It's just necessary cleanup. After all, even though he doesn't want me to move when he's touching me, he does like me to respond to him. He doesn't want a zombie or a corpse for a lover. He wants to be loved back.

"What are you thinking about?"

I looked up, a little startled. "I… guess I was just thinking about how crazy it is that we ended up together," I said. "I never thought things would turn out this way."

"Me neither… I was starting to think I'd die alone." He was looking down shyly.

I felt sorry for him. Me. For him. It didn't make much sense, but I couldn't help it. Because I knew that this dream-come-true was a lie. He wanted so desperately to believe it that he couldn't see himself as a kidnapper or murderer. He was just a normal guy looking for love, and now he thought he'd found it. He wanted to live happily ever after. With me.

And there I was, pretending to be the love of his life, knowing that I was going to destroy his dream forever or die trying. From his perspective, I would be the sick one. I was a liar and a traitor. But I couldn't let myself feel guilty about it. If I did, I would screw everything up. I had to keep the lie going. Once my team found me, I could start to fix things.

"How could you think that?" I asked. "You're so charming and good-looking."

He actually blushed.

"It's true," I said, and I certainly hoped he believed me, because I wasn't lying at all at the moment. "You're also kind and intelligent."

"Not as intelligent as you."

"That doesn't matter. You know how to use what you know. That's really valuable. I can't believe you weren't already with someone when we met."

"I didn't want just anyone, though… and it's hard when you're into both genders. Guys are more intimidating physically, and not as easy to connect with. I don't like going to gay bars, either… I don't like being hit on, and I never know what to say when I want to meet someone." He looked up. "That's why I'm so lucky to have found you, Spencer. I want you to be as happy as I am. I know you love me, but I think you're still worried… There's something holding you back."

Damn, I have got to make sure I keep my guard up. He's too perceptive. "I think I just miss my friends," I said. "And I'm a little worried about my mom. I wish I could call her and see if she's all right."

Now Al looked like he felt guilty. "I understand… I'm sorry you can't call her. Maybe eventually I can let you, but… Even though I love you and I want to trust you, we've still known each other less than a week. I've been hurt before. I just don't want to be stupid about it."

"I get it," I said. Because you're right not to trust me. "We have to build slowly. But I'm sure between the two of us we can work it all out. I want you to meet my family someday. I'll explain my disappearance and later tell them we met some ordinary way. Everything will be perfect."

He looked happy again, but all he said was, "We'll see."

Hang in there, Reid. And hang in there, readers. Let me know your thoughts so far.