She knew it was dark. She knew she was cold. How long she'd been lying there, she wasn't sure. It felt like years. Her entire body ached and she felt something thick and warm dripping into her eyes.

The room seemed empty. Riley was facing the wall. The light was even softer; the fire must be dying down. He won; she didn't have the strength to fight him off another time. Closing her eyes, she tried to fall asleep before he came back, praying this was the last time she'd wake up. At least then, she could be with Spencer…

Coming up from the basement, Reid carefully pushed the door open and looked around. It looked like some sort of kitchen, his visibility now fully adjusted to the darkness. There was an old wood burning stove knocked over, the brown, dirty walls covered in grotesque spray paint mixed with paint ball splotches. Andrews could be anywhere now. As badly as he wanted to make him pay, Riley had to be suffering. His only concern was once he had her, how was he supposed to sneak her past Andrews if Hotch hadn't caught up to him yet?

He moved from the kitchen into a long hallway. A dim light came from a room at the end of the hall. That had to be the fire Miriam talked about. The doors had been ripped off every room. Peaking in each one, he found them unoccupied, holding only empty beer bottles, cigarette packs, and other various bits of garbage and debris. No sign of Andrews. No sign of Riley.

Reid kept his gun at the ready, prepared to defend himself should he encounter their unsub. His hands were shaking, afraid he might pull the trigger prematurely. He hadn't been this nervous since his first case. Swallowing his fear, he attempted to regain control and moved closer to the source of light.

It was the chapel. A small room, with a few pews still in their place, but mostly it looked completely abandoned. A dying bonfire was set up where the altar used to be, the smoke heading up to the ceiling. The roof had caved in in several areas, revealing the overcast sky. He glanced around. The front door was open, but Hotch was no where to be seen. This was too eerie. Where the hell was every-

Before he could finish his thought, a great force came into contact with his stomach, knocking him off his feet. His hand managed to hold onto his gun as he lost his balance. Struggling for breath, he rolled over, finding Andrews hovering over him.

"I new you'd find your way here eventually; I was counting on it." Andrews said, moving closer. Reid wanted to shoot him, but fighting to breathe prevented him from doing so.

Andrews reached down and picked up the gun. Reid closed his eyes, preparing for the bang. It was over. Andrews won after all.

"Open your eyes, you coward. I want to see the life leave you."

Quickly mustering whatever remained in his sore muscles, Reid abled himself to pull away far enough to get back on his feet. He coughed for a moment, the two men staring each other down. Reid's gun aimed straight at his forehead.

"Where is she?" he asked calmly.

"She's dead." He answered quickly.

"I don't believe you," he replied, hoping it was truly only a bluff. "You wouldn't kill her. You love her."

"You're not going to trick me, kid," He answered, stepping closer. "You're too weak. I'm going to kill you and then I will kill her so no one can take her from me. Ever."

He had one shot at this. "You don't want to kill her. What will you do with yourself once she's dead?"

"Don't!" he yelled. "You're not going to take her away!"

"Sam," he lifted his hands in front of him, as if to surrender. "The only reason I'm here is to save her. You don't want her to die. Do you?"

He didn't answer. His hands gripped the gun more tightly. At any minute, he could pull that trigger. Reid's mind began to work; faster than even he could think possible.

"I know how much you love her. Because I love her that much, too."

"No you don't! No one loves her more than me!"

"Alright, I agree with you, maybe you do love her more than I do." He said, taking a step closer. "But it's irrelevant. She doesn't love you that way. She doesn't love me that way, either… she loves someone else."

He let Reid's words sink in. He shook his head, slowly at first, than faster with determination. "No, she loves me."

Reid could feel his pulse quickening, his heart ready to burst from his gun vest. "No, she doesn't love either of us. But," he took another step, putting his life in Fate's hands. "I want her to be happy. I love her so much, and I want her to feel the same way I do for her. And if that means she has to be with someone else, if it means I never get to have her… then I can let her go." He paused, breathing, trying to slow his heart rate down. "And you have to let her go, too. Please, will you let her go?"

Andrews seemed softened by his words. Reid was skeptical that the words would actually reach him. After all, this was a Hail Mary. He waited for Andrews to lower his gun.

"I can let her go." Andrews said. "But you're not going to be so lucky."

Instinctively, Reid closed his eyes and heard the gun go off. He waited; waited for the searing pain and the hot lead to pierce his body. It was an execution shot, it wouldn't take long. He waited for it all to end.

…It never came. Reid opened his eyes. He looked to Andrews in time to see him drop Reid's gun. He fell over, face down on the floor, a bullet hole in the back of his head…

Looking up, Reid's eyes met the hallway and saw a figure standing in the darkness. Gun poised, the shape moved into the light, revealing Aaron Hotchner.

"Thank you," Reid said, relief flowing through him.

"Good job, Reid," he said sincerely, putting his gun back in its hostler. "Did you find her?"

"Not yet," he answered.

"Keep looking, I'm going to call in the others."

Reid nodded, going to Andrews to retrieve his gun. He stuck it back in his belt. He rushed from the chapel into the first exit he hadn't tried.

He moved among the hallways, trying to see, but each room was empty. "Riley?" he called, unsure she could even answer. "Riley, can you hear me?"

Each empty room took away the relief and replaced it with panic. "She's got to be here," Reid said. "He wouldn't be here without her."

The sirens sounded in the distance. He caught the flashing lights through the window. The police and the ambulance would be here soon. He went back into the chapel, trying to back track. Where was she?

His eyes scanned the area. There, off to the side of the hallway was another room. He hadn't been in there yet. He ran in swiftly, his eyes meeting a heartbreaking sight.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. He probably hadn't moved her in days, along with his other victims. A motionless body draped in black curly hair lay on a dirty mattress. Reid ran to her. No, they couldn't have been too late.

"Riley," he whispered, trying to pull her face to his. "Riley, wake up, please."

Her wrists were bound with duct tape and her body was covered in blood and bruises. A fresh cut was on the top of her head, dripping blood into her eyes. He reached to her neck to feel her pulse.

Faint, but it was there. She was cold, too cold. She didn't have much time. He shook her gently. "Riley," he whispered again. "Come on, you have to wake up."

Uttering a hushed moan, she moved faintly in his direction. Reid sighed, relieved. She was still with him. "Open your eyes, Riley. Come on, wake up."

She expressed another, painful moan, and slowly allowed her eyes to open; glassy and foggy. Reid pushed back her hair, hoping she would recognize him.

A moment; they seemed to focus.

"Spencer?" she muttered.

"Yeah," he nodded, trying not to cry. "It's me."

She stared at him another moment, then smiled dazedly. "I must be in Heaven."

He laughed shortly, his nerves getting to him. "Come on," he said, cautiously slipping his arms under her frail body. He slipped her bond arms around his neck. "We're getting you out of here."

She closed her eyes again, feeling him lift her into the air. She wasn't too heavy, and under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be a problem at all. Reid was still fragile himself and carrying this weight with injured abdominals was difficult. Still, he had to get her to the ambulance.

He adjusted her weight and began to head out. He felt Riley gently nuzzle his neck. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he said, moving through the chapel to the front door. He leaned down brushing his lips on her forehead.

"I threw up… in my hair," Her throat sounded dry and hoarse. "Does my hair smell bad?"

Her entire body reeked, but Reid couldn't bring himself to tell her that. "No, it smells wonderful."

She nestled into the crook of his shoulder, Reid held her tighter, feeling her fingers entwine themselves in his hair. Bringing her down the steps, the first of the snow began to fall, surrounding them in an elegant swirl of white flakes. Reid was starting to feel dizzy, but ignored it. Everyone else was waiting for them out there.

"How is she?" Hotch asked, rushing to them. The EMTs bringing a gurney over.

"She's really weak," he said, staring at Snow White in his arms, watching as the frosty shavings landed in her hair and on her face. It was just like the night they walked home. Of course, this time her sparkling eyes were covered with purple eyelids, her face covered in bruises. Her pink lips now chapped and blue. "She needs help."

They EMTS steadied the gurney right next to him, but Reid didn't move. Everyone waited for him to lay her down. He continued to stare at her, holding her body close to his.

"Reid," Morgan said, moving next to him. "Put her on the gurney."

He didn't move, like his body had taken control. As long as he held her, no one could get to her. No one would hurt her again.

"Reid, let her go." Morgan urged. "You have to put her down now."

His senses came to him. Reid gave in, lowering her onto the gurney. Gently, he slipped her arms off from around his neck and stepped away, allowing the professionals to do their job. The EMTs started working on her before pulling her into the ambulance. Morgan pulled him aside from the commotion. Emily joined them as Morgan helped the injured boy slip off the gun vest. Once he was free, she wrapped her arms around him.

"You did it Reid." She said. "She's going to be okay now."

Reid held her for a moment, the lightheaded sensation growing stronger. She pulled away and Morgan suddenly looked concerned.

"Prentiss, what is all over your shirt?" he asked.

Confused, Emily looked down… finding a stain of blood had formed on her blue blouse. Her eyes traveled from the stain over to Reid's stomach and gasped.

"Oh my God, Reid, you're bleeding." she said.

He looked down, but could barely focus his eyes. He touched the stain, looking at the blood on his fingers. "I guess I… tore my stitches…" He mumbled, loosing his balance. He felt Morgan and Emily prevent him from the fall as he blacked out once more.