AN – I know it's been SO long since I updated this story and I'm really sorry! Life has just been kind of crazy in that way it likes to be, but I finally got my writing brain back and am here with another chapter. Our agents are in a tough spot, and it's not about to get any easier for them, so be prepared for all the drama that is to come! Usual warnings of blood, violence, mild swearing etc. apply.

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For a moment, everything is silent, and all Hotch can hear is a voice in his head saying oh god, oh god, repeating on a despairing loop. His head sags limply against Reid's shoulders, the fight drained out of him after what he was just forced to do. Only too late does he register the footsteps coming up behind him, the firm pressure of metal against his skull being the thing that brings his focus back to the UnSubs watching them.

"Well done, Agent Hotchner," the dominant UnSub praises as his partner once again brings the gun up to Hotch's head. "But don't think we're done with you just yet. You've put the blades in. Now you're going to take them out."

Hotch spins to glare at the UnSub, his vision hazy through the tears still forming in his eyes. "No," he refuses bluntly, resisting the urge to sprint across the room and strangle the man torturing them. "He'll bleed out. I won't allow you to kill him."

The submissive UnSub sighs in annoyance while the dominant merely chuckles. "You do realise that the aim is for one of you to die?" he explains in a patronising tone. "So I'll tell you again. Take the knives out. Or take a bullet to the head and leave him all alone here with us. What's it going to be?"

A fresh wave of tears spills down Hotch's cheeks as he weighs up his options. He's pretty certain that these sadists will continue to torture Reid even if Hotch does take the bullet, but the thought of risking Reid bleeding out strikes a kind of terror into his soul that he has never felt before. He turns his attention back to the man lying lifelessly in front of him, reaching a hand up to cup Reid's face in a gesture usually reserved for when they aren't being observed. Reid's glassy eyes try and fail to focus on Hotch's face, but he manages to move his lips in a soundless pattern that Hotch makes out to say 'do it, it's okay'.

"I'm so sorry," Hotch whispers, so quietly that it's more to himself than anyone else. Going against every instinct in his body, he reaches out for one of the knife handles and quickly draws the blade from Reid's body, eliciting no more than a quick inhale from the nearly unconscious man. Knife after knife gets pulled from Reid's abdomen, tossed into a pile that is quickly cleaned up by the submissive UnSub, who returns the knives to their sack after the last one has been removed, finally lowering his gun from Hotch's head.

As Hotch kneels there on the ground, staring down at the wounds that are now oozing fresh, dark, crimson blood, he feels his entire body go numb, overwhelmed by the shock and the panic and the guilt. Then he glances up at Reid's face, sees the way the man slumps unconsciously against the wall, and it all comes rushing back in a tidal wave of pain.

"Spencer? Shit, Spencer?! Wake up. Please, wake up! Shit!"

His hands grasp Reid's shoulders and shake them vigorously, but it does nothing to rouse the man, and the dominant UnSub gives another sneer from the other side of the room.

"Look at the decisions you've made, Agent Hotchner. I hope you can live with them," he jeers, pride at his work incredibly obvious in his voice. He turns towards his partner and commands, "come, we're done here. Let's leave Agent Hotchner to think about what he's done."

The UnSub's words echo in Hotch's mind, deafening him to the sound of footsteps receding from the room and a heavy door clanking shut. All he can hear are three words, coming at him so aggressively in his mind that it's like they were being shouted at him.

You've failed him.

There's a moment where Hotch feels paralysed, his eyes looking out on the horrific scene in front of him but his body unable to respond. It takes an agonising amount of time before his brain remembers another piece of information pertinent to their current condition.

He's bleeding out.

His next actions are a blur. Without stopping to think, he slides Reid down the wall so that he's lying on the floor, slips off his own suit jacket and presses it into the wounds with as much pressure as he can apply. Tears fall relentlessly down his face, and the whole time he's begging Reid to wake up, asking over and over again until he's run out of words.

He gets a moment of hope, a few seconds of believing that things might be okay, when Reid's eyes briefly flutter open again. "Spencer? Spencer! God, Spencer, please, you need to stay awake. Spencer, look at me!" Hotch's words come out frantic, his stoic pretence having long since been dispelled, and he leans in to try and capture Reid's attention.

Reid's gaze floats aimlessly around the room for a minute, his eyes still half lidded and his pupils unusually dilated. There's a fleeting moment of recognition, before his eyelids droop closed again and his head lolls against the floor.

"No, Spencer, no!" Hotch cries out in desperation. "Please, you can't leave me, Spencer, I love you!" He realises too late that this marks the first time he's said those special words in the course of their relationship, but Reid's closed eyes and limp body signify to him that he might just have missed his chance for them to ever be heard.

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AN – mwahahaha! Yes, I'm evil for what I'm doing to these poor guys. But it brings me joy, so there's going to be much more evil to come! Stay tuned for more horrendous torturing of our favourite FBI agents