Spencer was lying on the ground in the dungy basement, in pain and bleeding. The Man loomed over him, admiring the bleeding gashes he left on the boy's back with the whip. As Spencer tried to calm his breathing, he heard a belt buckle being undone.

"Please no..." he whimpered.

The man kneeled down and spread the boy's legs. "Shut up. You deserve this."

The boy started struggling and squirming to get away from him. "No! I don't! You're not real! You're dead!"

"Oh yeah?" The man pushed down on the boy's back so that he couldn't move. He lined himself up and pushed forward, eliciting a scream from the child. "This feels pretty real doesn't it? I may be dead, but I will always live in your head."

As the man moved, Spencer screamed and cried out. It did feel real. It really hurt. "Please stop! You're dead! You're not supposed to hurt me anymore!"

"No. You will feel me every night when you go to bed. I can hurt you in your dreams." He leaned down so he was speaking directly into the boy's ear. He emphasized each word with a particularly hard thrust. "You. Are. Mine."

Spencer shot up in his bed, covered in sweat and shaking. Tears were silently running down his face and his breathing was erratic. He clutched his chest as he tried to calm down.

He looked around the large room, which was full of his Uncle Dave's expensive wooden furniture. The clock on the dresser read 3:24 am. He was covered in soft and warm blankets and his teddy bear sat next to him.

As he managed to calm his breathing, he thought about what The Man said in his dream. It was true. Every time he went to sleep he dreamed of being hurt. He didn't want to hurt anymore. He wanted to be happy with his daddy and Uncle Dave and the rest of his family. He didn't want to see The Man ever again.

So he decided that he wouldn't. If he had to see The Man when he slept, then he just wouldn't sleep. Nodding to himself, he sat up in the large bed and threw off the covers.

He stayed awake the rest of the night, waiting anxiously for the morning. Around 9:00 am Spencer heard footsteps making their way to his room. He snuggled up in the bed and pretended to still be asleep.

Morgan opened the door and strolled in, clearly still half asleep. Spencer rubbed his eyes and sat up, easily fooling the older man. "Good morning pretty boy." He sat down on the bed and Spencer crawled into his lap. Morgan petted his hair and kissed the top of his head. "Let's go get you some breakfast. Pancakes?"

Spencer nodded excitedly. "Pancakes!"

By the next night, Spencer found himself incredibly tired. His eyes were continually drooping as he struggled to stay awake. He tried to distract himself with books, but that just made him more tired.

After a while, he started pinching himself to keep awake. If he found himself drifting, he would pinch the skin on his arm. The pain would make him wake up, for a little while at least.

Then the next night, the pinching wasn't working. He started to scratch his arm with his nails. He was doing it so hard that it was drawing blood. But it was better than being hurt by The Man in his dreams again.

After those few nights with no sleep, Spencer was really feeling the exhaustion. He tried to act energetic around Derek and Rossi, but he just couldn't find the energy. He could tell that his dad and uncle knew something was wrong. They would look over at him with concern when they thought he wasn't looking.

Spencer didn't want them to know what he was doing. He just knew they would make him go to sleep, but he didn't want to face The Man again. So he did his best to hide it. He especially made sure to hide his arm under long sleeves.

His arm was scratched raw. He had scraped off layers of skin which had bled badly. He didn't clean it either so it had dried blood covering it. It also had a slight green puss around the edge of the wound. To put it simply, it looked bad. Really bad.

It also hurt. A lot. But that was the point. The more it hurt the less likely he was going to fall asleep. As long as he kept it up and hid it from Derek, he wouldn't have to see Hobbs ever again.

Morgan came out into the kitchen where Rossi was waiting with two glasses of wine. "Okay Spencer's in bed." He nervously ran his hands over his head. "You've noticed too right?"

Rossi handed him the second glass of wine. "That Spencer's been acting weird? Yeah. I noticed."

"Well do you know what's wrong?" He asked, slightly more forcefully than he meant to.

"I mean I wouldn't be doing well if I went through what he went through."

Morgan nervously glanced down the hall to Spencer's room. "I know, and I get that, but he was doing so well in the hospital. He was acting like a normal kid. Now he's quiet and withdrawn and I don't know what to do."

Rossi let out a sigh and thought for a moment. "I know. He barely gets excited when I let him edit my drafts now." He gave a small chuckle, before his face hardened again. "I would talk to him in the morning. Maybe you can get him to tell you what's wrong."

The darker man practically slammed his glass down on the counter. "You think I haven't tried that!" He realized his overreaction and closed his eyes to try and compose himself. "I'm sorry Rossi. I just, I don't know how to help him."

Rossi patted his shoulder. "I know. Maybe we could ta-"

But he cut himself off when he saw Spencer slowly waddle into the room. He looked terrible. He was extremely pale and his face was shiny with sweat. "Bambino what are you doing up?"

"I…I d-don't…I don't f-feel… f-feel g-good…"

Morgan watched as his baby struggled to get his words out. Something was wrong. The boy's eyes started to flutter and he swayed on his feet. Morgan rushed forward just as Spencer collapsed. He caught him just before he hit his head on the ground.

"Spencer! Open your eyes! What's wrong?" He received no response except for a low moan from the boy. He turned to Rossi. "Call an ambulance."

Rossi nodded and ran to get his phone. While he called 911, Morgan held his son and tried to find what was wrong. The first thing he noticed was that he felt really hot.

Rossi ran back over to the two and kneeled down. "They're on their way." He looked at the unconscious little boy. "What happened?"

"I don't know but I think he has a fever."

Rossi moved his hand to Spencer's forehead to check his temperature. He most definitely had a fever. But what concerned Rossi more was that the boy was shaking slightly. "Morgan. He has a fever and he's shivering. He might have an infection in one of his wounds."

Morgan mutely nodded. He started to strip Spencer of his pajamas, trying to find the source of the infection. When the shirt came off he caught sight of Spencer's arm. "What the fuck?"

He grabbed the boy's arm and showed the inflamed, raw, and bleeding wound to the older agent. Rossi took the arm and carefully inspected the injury.

Suddenly a knock came at the door and Morgan got up to let the paramedics in. They carefully and quickly moved Spencer to the ambulance. Rossi yelled to Morgan before he could get into the ambulance with his son. "I'll meet you at the hospital!"

Morgan nodded to him as the paramedic closed the door.