Chapter 5

Identity

Slowly Spencer became aware of his surroundings again. He was still cuffed to the rail and he was hanging forward on his knees with his arms pulled backwards behind him. He didn't know how long he had been like this, but when he tried to move, the muscles in his arms screamed at him.

His body was hurting in new places, and he could only assume that he had taken a beating while he was unconscious. He moved his legs and pain shot up into his abdomen.

An involuntary moan escaped his lips, drawing the attention of one of the UnSubs. Spencer felt a hand in his hair as his head was jerked up. He thought that the UnSub must have been waiting next to him for him to wake up.

Spencer could not open his eyes. They were beyond hope of opening now. Blood had dried on his eye lashes, sticking them together. The skin in his face felt stiff with dried blood and tears. In the back of his mind was the feeling that serious damage had been done to his eyes, and that he may have lost his eyesight, possible his eyes.

He shivered as he tried to put these thought out of his head. He needed to stay with it. People were depending on him.

The thought at the front of his mind though was Aaron. He didn't know if his diversion had worked, whether Aaron had managed to escape or not.

If he had, then the hostages had a chance, even if he didn't.

So far, he and Aaron had taken up all the UnSubs' attention.

He felt his head being jerked upwards. "We need you."

Without warning the cuffs were unlocked, and Spencer hit the floor hard. A cry of pain as he landed face down. His arms suddenly free were going into spasms and he had no control over his body.

The hand in his hair again, pulling him to his feet, and then he was dragged away from the wall.

Desperately he tried to get on to his feet, but he was being pulled along too quickly, and he ended up on his back being dragged by his hair.

Kicking with his legs, trying to gain purchase, but it was impossible. Each breath came out as a groan of pain.

He grabbed hold of the end seat and tried to slow down his progress to whatever awaited him. The UnSub jerked his hair hard and he let go with a cry.

He could hear the hostages gasping and someone was crying. Spencer hoped it wasn't because they were being hurt. His first duty as an FBI agent was to protect them. If the only way to do this was to 'draw fire', and possibly even give his life, then so be it.

The dragging stopped and his hair was released. He lay back on the floor, trying to catch his breath again.

"Stand up."

Shakily, Spencer turned slowly onto his front, and got onto his hands and knees. His arms still hurt with the sudden movement after being locked in the same position for so long. He felt a hand in his hair again.

"No….I'll do it…" His voice was rough and barely audible, but they left him alone to get onto his feet.

He stood swaying, afraid he would fall again. He held his head up in a show of feeble defiance, and pushed his hair off his face.

"Our negotiator does not believe me when I tell him that I have two Feds here as hostages." It was the voice of the tall man who had hurt him earlier. Spencer felt an involuntary shudder pass down his spine. He hoped that the man hadn't been able to see it.

"…You are going to put him right. But note well, FBI, that if we think you are giving them information that we do not want you to give, one of the hostages will die, and I will finish what I started earlier."

Spencer nodded, and a mobile was put in his hand.

"This is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU." he said, trying to keep his voice even despite the pain he was in. A tremor crept into his voice even so, and those who knew him would have noticed a higher pitch than usual. "I am being held here with a number of hostages…."

The phone was taken off him again.

The inability to see, coupled with impaired balance through too many kicks to the head gave Spencer the feeling that the room was spinning.

With a sigh, he fell to the floor. He made no attempt to save himself; he just crashed sideways, and lay still.

His perceptions were fading in and out; he could hear the hostages murmur when he fell. He wondered where Aaron was, if he was lying dead or if he had escaped.

He felt his stomach clench at the thought of Aaron being hurt somewhere, and he not knowing.

If I am going to die here, please let it be so that Aaron can live……

He felt a rush of guilt that the other hostages weren't at the front of his mind, but in the state he was, he couldn't help it. His mind and body seemed to be taking on a life separate from him.

He was lifted up by his upper arms, and dragged back over to the rail. This time he made no attempt to stand, His head fell forward, his hair hanging in blood stained clumps over his useless eyes. He was cuffed again and as he hung helpless and without protection, they took delight in kicking him, and he moaned and cried out for Aaron and tears and blood fell.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

They had come looking for him, but he had wedged the door shut, and they thought the door was locked.

Aaron had held his breath while they pushed the door, praying that the wooden broom handles wouldn't break. They held, and the UnSubs soon gave up and left him.

Aaron's breath was uneven from the dry vomiting, and the shooting pains that wracked his body. He sat for a minute or two, recovering from the shock, and then tried to think of how he was going to get out of there, and bring Spence and the other hostages with him.

He feared for Spencer, who had given of himself so that he could get away.

He didn't know how ruthless these UnSubs were, whether or not they were up to killing an FBI agent.

Aaron hoped that the negotiating power of having Spencer as a hostage would keep him alive.

He looked about for some kind of weapon. The closet was a cleaning materials storage cupboard. He pulled himself onto his feet, and switched the light on. There were some cloths that he pushed along the bottom of the door, just in case the light showed on the other side, then he began a search for anything he could use.

The first thing he saw was a pair of scissors. They went into his pocket. He picked up a spray bottle, and poured alkali floor stripper into it.

Not terribly affective against a 1014 combat shotgun, but at short range, could do enough damage to give him the upper hand.

He screwed the lid on again, and put the bottle in his pocket with the scissors. He removed the broom holding the door closed, turned off the light, and kicked the cloths out of the way.

Very cautiously, he opened the door and slipped out. There was no-one around, but he could hear Spencer crying out as he was suffering in the hands of these men.

Tears pricked the back of Aaron's eyes.

I'll get you out of there, Spencey. Hold on. Just hold on……….