A/N: Chapter is up, hope you enjoy! Was edited quickly so sorry for any mistakes.

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Chapter Three

"Hey, Stinky!" Dean tossed the pen top, only to have his aim go wide and strike the headboard instead of the bowed head. The reason for not getting an answer to his last three questions was because he was being ignored. What was so interesting about the picture? There was nothing revealing or important on the old polaroid. "Take the shower first, I'm going to head down to that little pizza joint and grab some dinner."

"Go ahead," Sam ignored the implication that he smelt any worse than his sibling. After being on the road for three days, he was sure that he was in dire need of soap. Whether or not he could get clean in this dump was debatable. Another dive to spend the night in because more than half of their fake cards were no longer active and they were low on cash. "Nothing with onions."

The door clicked softly, leaving Sam alone on the double bed. His attention was still on the aged polaroid between his fingers. There was nothing telling, there was no way for them to find out who it was. The longer he focused on the image, his gut tightened in anticipation. There had to be something important about it. It was a feeling, he just knew that whoever the baby was, they were in danger and somehow very important. It was unnerving getting such a strong feeling from a single picture. One couldn't tell if it were female or male, when it was taken, or possibly where. It would be pointless to try to investigate the case when they had absolutely nothing to go on. Couldn't he be happy that they had prevented the death of several children?

The evidence was placed gently on the nearby stand. Dean thought him crazy for holding onto it, but it was all they had to go on. Without it those responsible wouldn't be able to use it as a focus point. That might buy them some time to discover who it was and what they wanted. He reached down to remove his shoes and socks, a shower would help to clear his head. Food would be the next step and then he planned on searching for clues online. Maybe if they knew exactly what kind of spell was being performed, they would get more answers.

The bathroom door was left ajar in case and he stripped down in front of the cracked mirror. Sam eyed the scars adorning his torso and arms from years of hunting. He was lucky that scars were the only lingering signs of the past decade. His hair was already in dire need of a cut and the facial hair would be left alone. He didn't feel up to shaving yet, so he forwent all that and stepped into the shower. The warm water beat along his chest, it took lowering his head to get it wet in a shower created for the average person.

The long strands were soaked through within seconds, fingers massaging his scalp, causing an image to form. Ear length hair, strands with the slightest amount of curl near the end. A dirty blonde, with pretty features and a soft voice; one that was becoming more clear. A beautiful male with a slender form, gentle hands, and the ability to leave him speechless in the dreams. The dream this morning had been so clear, each image clung to his mind. The one that was plaquing his dreams may not even be a real person and why did that thought disappoint him? Finally, he could recall a face but no name, what did it mean? Was his subconscious mind creating this person?

Why would it? Why would he create the image of another male to dream about? All of his life he had always preferred females. Not once had he looked at a man and been sexually attracted. Then why the hell was his cock getting hard now? It was starting to stand recalling the latest dream and what had been occurring in the car. The dream lover had been in his lap on the back seat, doing things that would make Dean never wish to enter the vehicle again.

A therapist would most likely insist that he was going through some kind of inner-turmoil. That his dreams were telling him that he was confused about what he wanted with his life. It wouldn't be far from the mark either. After a decade of hunting, he was starting to feel burned out. He wasn't sure how much longer he wanted to do this. How many more years before he was killed permanently? How many more women would come and go in his life? What happened to his desire to one day want a family? He wasn't so sure if he wanted children, but he did want someone special in his life. There hadn't been anyone really special since Jessica had died. He had cared and loved a few but never one he would have settled down with. When was it time to stop hunting and focus on himself?

Lonely or unsure, it didn't explain the reason he was dreaming of having sex with a male. Unless his mind was completely fucked and confused. Proving exactly how screwed up and unsure of his decisions he really was. That's all it could be because there was no way someone could make him feel that way in the flesh. Not once had sex left him feeling like that, before or after.

"Dean?" He reached forward to turn off the spray noting movement through the mirror. The flimsy curtain was pushed aside, he was sure he had caught sight of something through the fogged plastic. There was some soap scum but it was otherwise clear enough to see through.

No answer, it wasn't his brother, and his gun was on the bed. Without bothering to grab a towel, he peeked through the mirror to search for movement. There wasn't any. Carefully, he looked into the room, hoping someone wasn't waiting to take his head off. It might have been his mind playing tricks or a shadow. The room was as he had left it, nothing out of place. Except the picture was no longer on the nearby nightstand. It had been moved to the bed, next to his weapon. There was also a piece of paper, his weapon being used as a weight to keep it from moving.

The door clicked and swung open, letting the evening sun into the room. Sam swore seeing his sibling standing in the doorway with a disgusted expression. It would have been more appalling if a stranger had been walking by, as it was, only Dean was gawking at his nakedness. "Were you here a minute ago?"

"No, and why the hell are you standing around naked? I don't need to see your inadequacies." Dean lowered his gaze from the semi-erect penis of his little brother. He already knew that he wasn't the only one that took after their father. It rankled that Sammy took a bit more, but he wasn't jealous.

Sam scoffed at the remark and went to grab a towel. Once the thin cloth was around his waist, he stepped back out. Dean was placing the pizza on the other bed. "Someone was just inside the room, I didn't get out quick enough to see who it was."

"Just now?" Dean inquired, still refraining from looking at the obvious bulge beneath the towel. Just knowing that Sammy had been doing something in the shower was weirding him out. "Did you wait until you were finished before checking it out?"

"There wasn't anything to finish and I'd say about five minutes ago, I saw the person briefly in the mirror." He hadn't been jacking off. If he had been, he would have run out with an erection the second he had spotted someone. An orgasm wasn't worth dying for.

"That isn't possible, Sammy." Dean removed the coat while eyeing the room. No one was in the room so that meant no one had been inside. "I was outside, just down the hall. There is this cute little redhead that has invited me to breakfast. I could see the door, no one came out of it."

"I don't care what you did or didn't see, I know what I did." Sam wouldn't second guess what he had seen. "I glanced out and saw someone in the room. Dark clothing, tall and built like a male. And before you say I am imagining things, my imagination moved the picture and also left us a note."

"A note?" Dean followed the finger. There was a folded piece of paper underneath the gun. Who would sneak into the room and do nothing but leave a message? He yanked it out from beneath and opened it. "Did you read it? What is this? Mason Heights, Richmond, Virginia. Oh, and it has your name, so I assume it was left for you."

"That is all? It doesn't give an actual address or anything else?" That was a bit vague. Was it a community, a sub-division, or a hotel? That clarified why someone had been in their room. "He moved the picture too. I put it on the nightstand before jumping in the shower."

"Okay, so someone was in the room. Someone that didn't need to use the door to leave." Dean frowned thinking how much danger Sam had been in. This visitor could have attacked him in the shower. He hadn't been gone for more than twenty minutes, that wasn't a lot of time. Someone was watching them.

"I want to check it out," Sam sat down on the edge of the mattress. His laptop was grabbed from his bag and plugged into the wall. The guest password was typed in for the sucky free wi-fi. It was a clue and it had to do with this case. Why else put the picture next to the note?

"Figures, but can we at least eat and get some sleep before driving again?" Dean didn't open his mouth to protest the decision. There was no point, and he was curious as well. Who was tailing them and why were they to head to this place? Why the hell was this unknown entity focusing on only one of them. It was like their informant was making this case personal for Sam.

"Sure," he wouldn't get much sleep but he would allow Dean to get some rest. Sam got comfortable on the mattress, after slipping on boxers. The box was brought over, within arms reach. Eating was put on hold, as his search for Mason Heights in Richmond, Virginia resulted in a positive search. The first link was from a local website, a site about haunted places in the states. Scrolling down, there were several others, all about haunted places. Giving in, he clicked on the first for the hell of it. Mason Heights was an apartment complex, or had been at one time. Thirty-three years ago it had burned down and has been abandoned since. It made the website's list due to it being haunted.

Curious, Sam clinked on the picture of the building at it's finest to see what else the site had to say about it. After the original burning, several people died while trying to clean up the property. A few fires, noises, ghosts being spotted roaming through windows. The building was still empty according to the site. What was special about this place? Why alert them to its existence? A fire? A building fire over thirty years ago. Was there some connection?

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He wasn't imagining it, someone was definitely following him. Spencer could confirm at least two that were keeping an even pace with him. Both male, in their later twenties, wearing leather jackets, and sporting expensive shades. The moment he had exited the library, the tail had begun. Many reasons, possibilities, and suspects flashed through his brain. Just being followed was worrisome without not knowing the why or who. He had yet to tell anyone about someone being in his home and planting prints for him to find. Some sick bastard had to be starting a game, one he didn't wish to play.

Another block, the two became three, and there were only four more blocks until he was home. The scenario of being caught or attacked was looking greater by the second. He could take a cab, if he could manage to flag one down. Could he do it before they gained on him and pulled a weapon? His own had been left at home, a mistake he was going to pay for. Another block and getting away wasn't going to be an option. He withdrew his phone and quickly dialed the first number in speed dial.

Five rings and it went to voice mail. Aaron wasn't picking up for whatever reason and he was running out of time. The next was hastily dialed from memory, and luck was with him because JJ picked up on the second ring. "JJ, it's me, I need you to listen to everything I'm about to tell you."

"Spence?"

"I'm currently on Wilson, in thirty seconds I will purposely pass the atm. There are three of them; all in leather jackets and shades. I got two minutes at most before they make their move." Spencer shivered in apprehension and purposely stopped directly five feet in front of the invisible camera.

"Wait, I'm in my car with Will. We're only fifteen away, can you make it into a store?"

"No, I can't." Not when there was a giant coming at him. The man-thing had to be close to seven feet tall and built like a tank. The smooth way the limbs maneuvered around the crowd was agile and swift. He was blocked in and the only way out was to run into speeding traffic or scale the wall. "I'm trapped. Talk to Kevin, ask him about the favor."

"Wha…..?" The question was cut off, the phone yanked from his hand. Where the hell had she come from? Spencer eyed the female beaming an eerie smile into his face at being able to confiscate his phone. He should have noticed her, the blue hair made it hard to miss.

"Be a good boy and don't make a scene, you see them." She spoke with a gentle voice belonging on a teacher. The cell was released to strike the pavement with a hard thwack. A leather clad heel came down in the middle of his phone. "You're observant, you wouldn't want to get hurt by doing something stupid. It would be such a pity if you got a scratch."

A scratch? Right now, he was contemplating his survival chances if he were to try to frogger his way across midday traffic. In a vehicle, JJ wouldn't make it in time. He had a feeling these people wouldn't hesitate to knock him unconscious via a solid punch to the face. If the big one were to strike him, he'd be lucky to still have his brain in a solid mass. "What do you want?"

"You're going to get in the car." Leather coat guy number two spoke up from behind, cocking his head to the left. A black sedan stopped mid-traffic and all four circled him. "Move or we move you."

With a healthy push to the spine. Hands grabbed his arms, propelling his pathetic weight towards the open door. Vehicles honked impatiently from the holdup but none bothered to care that he was being led away. The giant slide across the seat first, then he was shoved to climb inside and yanked over. It ended when his side slammed into solid concrete. Leather coat guy number one took up the other side and number two took the front passenger. The female didn't bother getting inside, they pulled off, leaving the girl behind.

Spencer darted his gaze to the driver, an elderly female. Grey lined platinum hair, framing a wrinkled face, and heavily painted lips. The car turned down a side street, then another before coming to a horrifying halt. That hadn't taken long, they could have just walked him this far.

"Do it and make sure he doesn't get away. I will meet you back at the estate the moment I know I'm not being followed." The driver unlocked the doors to let them out.

That wasn't good. Spencer winced at being yanked from the vehicle. They were manhandling him without care and all three were left standing in the middle of the street. If they stalled long enough, there was a chance JJ would drive by searching for where he had been taken. Until Lug leaned over and lifted up a manhole cover. He hadn't thought of that. Hell, that thing had to weigh a good three hundred pounds of solid metal. Workers had to use equipment to lift those things in order to access the tunnels. It was one of the many that had been swapped out due to citizens going beneath the streets to take up residence. All of them weren't exchanged but this one had been. Dammit, they were covering their asses.

Spencer went over what would happen the moment JJ found him missing. She would call Hotch, or try, and then it would be Rossi. The team would be assembled and they would pull the video from the atm, as he had planned. They would see what kind of vehicle he had been taken in. They would follow the direction and try to search for it. If they discovered that he had been dropped off somewhere, they would follow the path it could have taken. All the streets along this route, the dozen manhole covers were all new. They would assume that it wouldn't be lifted without the right equipment. The closest accessible grate was over five miles away, it was perfect. His team wouldn't think to look for their escape into the tunnels below. The group could take him anywhere in the five mile radius or simply exit elsewhere and get into a new vehicle.

"Down, now."

"I'm going," only because he didn't want to test just how strong the silent one was. Spencer couldn't guess from his muscles because by lifting up the cover so easily would automatically throw off any figures he could produce just by muscle mass alone. He regretted not trying to make a run through traffic already. Thick sludge coated the metallic ladder and the smell was horrible. It reeked of stale cheese and sweaty feet. "Where are you taking me?"

"To him."

That was vague. Him could be anyone and Spencer had no clue who would go through the trouble of hiring thugs to kidnap him. The sewer tunnel led to exactly fourteen possible exists, if they didn't take the three sub-tunnels. If by chance his team realized that he had been taken to the sewers, following was out of the question. By the time they got around to figuring out that he was no longer in the vehicle, he could be several states away or dead. If he wanted out of this, he would have to take care of himself.

Being surrounded gave him a chance to profile the three assailants. The largest was inhumanly proportioned, silent, the strength of the trio, and the last one he should worry about. The slender one walking in front was leading them with an air of confidence, in complete control of the situation. The third was nervously looking around, looking for a tail, and listening. Spencer wasn't sure how he knew it but it was a gut feeling. The third was listening to the sounds around them. What did the man hope to hear in the concrete tunnel?

The harsh scent of burning plastic tickled his nose. They should be more worried about where the scent was coming from. A fire down here was hazardous, all the waste would catch ablaze in seconds. Spencer was glad that he wasn't the only one aware of the smell. The watcher was whipping his head back to front, in search of the location. They were turning another corner, putting them beneath Cooper Street, three streets south from entering the sewers. The tunnels were getting wider the further they traveled towards the outskirts of the city.

Two rights, a left, another right and straight through six more intersections, Spencer had given up trying to figure out which street he was underneath. He was more concerned about the noise the leader was emitting. It reminded him of a wounded dog he had once found on the side of the road. The dying animal had been whimpering while warning him not to come near. This time it was coming from his captor and all three seemed to be on alert. Was luck with him? Had JJ managed to spot them before going beneath the streets?

"We got company, keep it tight." The big guy finally spoke, a tone that sent a chill down the spine. "Sulfur, when he arrives I'll deal with him."

It did smell like sulfur. Spencer didn't want to question how they knew it was a man nearing because of the type of scent. What kind of man smelt like sulfur enough that this group could identify him? Another person, someone these three didn't want arriving, but it was someone they knew. One would think that the fourth person would do something about the smell since it would always give away his approach. Unless the unknown person was cocky enough he didn't think he needed the element of surprise.

"You're a cocky one."

It wasn't possible. Spencer blinked, ignoring the pain of being jerked by the arm towards the lead. One second the tunnel had been clear, then it wasn't. The man had appeared out of nowhere, a side-tunnel perhaps? It was the only explanation for how he could have gotten there within the time it took him to blink. The others were suddenly showing signs of being nervous and anxious seeing the fourth male appear. Another person meant a second group, but why would two different people be after him? Not even in the B.A.U. was he someone important enough to hire professional hitmen. Wait, the man was stepping closer, exposing his face. True fear coiled in Spencer's gut as he took in the face, the fancy suit, and then the odor. He should have thought about it the moment he caught the scent. The man with the burnt cologne from the elevator. It was the same one that had rode the elevator with him, but why? None of it made any sense.

"I'll give you to the count of three to let him go." Elevator man casually ran a hand through the peppered hair, giving the ultimatum with the tone one would use while asking for directions. "One."

"You can't stop it," Leader guy gave the nod for the big guy to do something. "His will must be obeyed. You of all people should know this, Kabal."

"Two." Kabal snapped, mild irritation in the single word.

"Do it."

Do it meant the big one was to release a horrifying sound from his mouth and do something out of a horror movie. Spencer barely heard the shout of three. The seconds slowed to a halt as he watched in disbelief. The clothes tore like Charmin tissue and it was leathery skin to protrude and become exposed. The flesh was tinted grey and the man's face widened and the eyes had glazed over to complete blackness.

It was the most damning changes he could digest before his arm was yanked again. His feet stumbled over themselves but his weight was kept upright and moving forward. A scream came from behind but neither of the two still abducting him bothered to glance back in the direction they left their friend. Spencer assumed that the screams and the crashes were from the thing taking care of the smelly fourth. Had it been a feeble rescue attempt or another kidnapping? The answer would die with the one that had been called Kabal.

His mind was still trying to make sense of what he had seen. Some kind of mutation or was he having some kind of hallucination? Was his body still standing on the street while his mind carried him off into the unknown? No way in hell the tunnel had just exploded behind them. That kind of explosion would alert the authorities and every civilian above ground. The tremors rocked the small space and caused the two to come to a halt after taking the next corner. Was it still safe to be down here?

Water? Spencer reached up feeling the moisture strike his cheek. What should have been clear was crimson and warm. Where? Had debris fallen to strike him without causing pain? A gurgling sound came from the one in charge a second before fingers burst through the back of the leather jacket, reaching towards him. Clawed, dirty, and intact digits created a sloshing sound, exiting the still form in front. The one behind became aware of the slaying at the same moment and stepped back hastily, leaving Spencer to fend for himself. The body fell like a doll to hit the stale water face first.

"How?" There was nothing logical about how fast the man came to be standing in front of him or how he had managed to get in front of them to kill someone. Was he about to die? Spencer couldn't explain why he couldn't bring himself to do anything but try to wipe the remainder of the blood from his cheek. Death was imminent and running would be foolish.

"Boy, listen to what I'm about to say." Kabal spoke directly at the third kidnapper but they knew who he was addressing. "I only managed to stall the big one, he's a tough bastard, so you'll be leaving alone."

"I will?" Would he be leaving here alone, alive? Spencer had no idea who the man was but if he was leaving alone and alive, it meant he was free. Wait, how the hell was the big man not dead? How did not one but two men survive that kind of explosion?

"Keep straight, take the second right you come to, then the next left, and that should take you to a dead end with an exit. You take that exit to the surface, you'll see a vehicle, take the keys." Kabal unclenched his fingers, eyes remaining on the third man. A set of keys were tossed. "You will get out of here but you will not return home or to work. Nor will you contact your friends and family. You will not contact your lover either, is that clear?"

No, how did this man know about his and Hotch's relationship? Why couldn't he contact anyone? Why did this man assume he was going to listen to anything that was said? The first thing he was going to do was call the police and get somewhere safe. The first person he was going to rush to would be his boyfriend.

"You go to him and he'll die. Their master is tired of waiting and if you involve those close to you, they'll be used. If you care about them, you'll do as I say. Run, drive, you'll find that I left everything you'll need. Get out of here, before this idiot tries to grab you."

The man was creeping closer, Spencer felt it in every nerve, the waiting kidnapper was through waiting for them to chat. A lunge and both men collided into each other, then through the concrete wall. Waiting was stupid and he didn't need to be told that running was the wisest course of action. He wasn't a coward but he was a genius that knew he wasn't capable of dealing with men that could survive explosions and going through a five-foot thick wall and stand to continue fighting. The first step of figuring out what he had unwilling got dragged into was to get to safety.

He took the indicated directions, hoping the man had given him the way out of the tunnels. The bottom half of his pants were soaked through and his sneakers were shot and water-logged. Another explosion echoed from somewhere and the ground shook from it. That would definitely garner attention above. After ten more minutes of running, Spencer spotted the open manhole, sunlight beckoning him forward. Nothing prevented him from climbing upwards and above ground.

It had led to a vacated construction site. The new apartment complex that was going up but the project had been put on hold due to ownership changing hands. Parked next to a pile of beams was a vehicle, the one the man had spoken of? Would the key in his hand work? There was nothing else around, it had to be the one. Being an agent he should concern himself about who it belonged to or if it was stolen. None of those questions kept him from running to the white Lexus and hitting the unlock button. The alarm was turned off with a soft beep and he was able to slip inside and into the driver seat. The engine turned over, the soft purr of a brand new vehicle.

The ground shook again, easily felt despite being in the vehicle. Spencer hesitated for four seconds before putting the car in gear. Dirt was thrown up from the speed it took off across the lot. There was no traffic on the half-made road leading to the complex and an oncoming car kept him waiting at the stop sign for less than a minute. He pulled out onto the road, heading towards the closest intersection. The sounds of sirens were getting louder all around. He stopped three cars short of the red light, allowing emergency vehicles to head towards the source of the underground disturbance.

Taking a deep breath, he realized he had to make a quick decision. Did he continue straight and head back to the office or home? Or did he take this right to get onto the interstate and get far away as he possible could?

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