Hello again. This part's leading into the really dark and angsty, so if you're not a fan...

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. But thanks to AA and tearbos for the betas!

Reid curled into a ball, wrapping himself tightly in the thick green comforter. He wanted desperately to believe he was in an extremely vivid nightmare, but the stray drops of bathwater that clung to his skin and dampened the warm fabric around him kept him from that possibility.

Why? he asked himself. Why me? Why now?

His thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping on the door. "Spencer?"

Reid didn't answer. He curled tighter into his blankets, wishing himself away from this disturbed creature.

"Come on now. Either you can be good and open the door, or I'll have to take it off its hinges and take it away, and then I'll be mad. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

The young agent remembered what had happened the last time Sienna had been 'mad.'

I don't have a choice.

Keeping a firm grip on the comforter that enveloped him from shoulder to foot, Reid slowly moved the dresser and unlocked the door. Sienna stood there, inches from his frame, her eyes taking in every part of him that was still exposed. The thought of being 'undressed' by this woman's gaze as enough to make his stomach curl.

"Good boy," she said approvingly. "Now come on, get dressed. I expect to see you out here for dinner…I'm making your favorite."

With that, she spun on her heel and sauntered towards the kitchen, humming a merry tune.

Reid watched as his captor made her way into the kitchen. I could take her, he thought. I know I've been paying attention when Morgan teaches me things…I'm sure I could take her and not suffer for it.

I think.

But I'll do it after I'm dressed.

Sighing, the young man closed the door once more and began to put on his clothes.

"Oh, Spencer?" Sienna called down the narrow hallway. "Leave the door open. Wouldn't want you getting any ideas…"

Reid froze. No way am I letting her watch me get dressed. Not in this lifetime.

A few minutes passed.

"Fine. Off it comes."

The young man hurriedly threw on the rest of his clothes and flung the door open as hard as he could.

"Spencer, are you trying to push your luck?" Sienna yelled.

Oh, crap. Good one, genius. Piss her off. Maybe this time she'll only try to kill you…

"I-I'm sorry!" he called out.

That's good. Maybe she'll let that slide…

The smell of something wonderful wafted down the hallway, tantalizing Reid's nostrils. He crept closer, not wanting to be seen by his captor but dying to have a look at what she was making. He hadn't eaten since noon the day before, and he was starving.

It was turkey. Crispy, golden brown turkey, all trimmed with the usual sides—corn bread, stuffing, green beans, mashed potatoes, gravy, and in a large bowl sat some beautiful strawberries. The sight of his favorite meal, laid out for an intimate dinner, was enough to make the young man's mouth water. His stomach clawed its way up his throat, longing for even a bite of the wonderful spread that sat just close enough to touch.

However, Reid didn't dare touch a bite. He was afraid to. He sat at the table, looking at all the things he loved, and had to control his overwhelming urge to eat everything in sight.

"You're not eating?" Sienna asked, taking slow, thoughtful bites of her meal. "After I went to all the trouble?"

Trouble? Yes, that you are. I'm starving, but knowing you, you probably put poison in the food.

"I-I'm just not hungry," he stammered. His eyes, however, told a much different story.

"Not…hungry."

Slowly, Reid shook his head.

Silence reigned in the small kitchen for a long few moments.

"Liar."

Frightened, Reid shook his head wildly. "No, I-I'm not."

"Oh, spare me! Your face says completely the opposite!"

Oh. Crap.

Within seconds, Sienna was out of her chair and had one very strong hand wrapped around Reid's throat. Despite his limbs flailing mercilessly towards his attacker, the woman managed to physically drag the young doctor out of his chair and down the hall, into what Reid had at first thought was his spare bedroom.

Once inside, however, he was disabused of that notion.

Inside, the room was completely black. The walls were covered in black reflective paint, creating a silvery cast onto the dark walls when the smallest amount of light hit them. Long silver chains dangled idly from the ceiling, with solid metal cuffs attached to each one. There were several devices Reid had only read about in ancient books, lazily waiting for someone to be strapped into them and tortured beyond all hope.

Sienna tossed the young man onto the floor like an oversized rag doll. "Strip," she barked. "Now."

Though frightened, Reid stayed completely motionless. He was not about to be put in that humiliating situation again.

The woman grabbed something long and thin from a rack bolted to the side wall—it was a leather whip, tipped with some sort of metal at the ends.

"I said, strip."

Again, Reid didn't move. "No, he whispered. "I won't."

The lash hit so fast the young agent could barely tell it had been coming. The thin strip of leather bit into his clothes, leaving a ragged trail where solid cloth once lay.

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes.

Once more, Reid curled into a ball, trying to protect himself and remain as clothed as possible.

Sienna grabbed another device off the wall—this one a long metal pole with a half-moon strip of metal soldered to the top. Deftly, she pinned Reid to the floor by his neck with it.

"I'm going to tell you one more time. Take off your clothes, or I will rip them off thread by thread until you do."

She's not that crazy. She's not that crazy.

Is she?

Slowly, Reid shook his head, squeezing his eyelids tightly shut.

"Fine. Have it your way."

The sound of metal scraping against the parquet flooring assaulted Reid's ears. Before he could even open his eyes, he felt thin metal bands closing around his ankles. By the time he managed to turn his head towards his wrists, they too were bound in chains.

Sienna pulled on each one of the metal lines, raising Reid up about three feet from the ground and parallel to her waist.

"Now," she said icily. "You're going to learn what it means to follow directions, Spencer Reid."