A/N: Again I am sorry the updates take a few days. I'm still recovering from my broken foot and on tons of pain medication so sometimes it's hard to concentrate long enough to write. I hope this chapter isn't a disappointment. I took what each and everyone of you had to say about the sexual abuse and I think I've come to a good compromise about it. It's not in this chapter, but I don't think it will disappoint. I am very thankful for all of your reviews and I promise it will get more intense within the next chapter. Thank you and please tell me what you think about it. :)


Spencer Reid was not going to die. He had gathered this much. Once the UnSub had described him as "useful", the young agent had figured it all out. Well, not everything was perfectly clear. His brain was still a bit foggy and his head throbbed, but he was nearly ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent positive, he was going to live. His colleagues would find him, no doubt. Until then, he just had to be cooperative. Because the statistics went down quite a lot if he said or did the wrong thing. He cleared his voice as he felt the uninviting, calloused fingertips violate his hair.

"And what is it we're going to do next?" Spencer questioned thoughtfully. Words were everything. They would be until he was found. Using the wrong ones would result in consequence.

"You're going to get us some money. I assume that big brain of yours can count cards."

The idea of cheating at a game of Black Jack never quite amused Reid enough to try and do it. He was too humble, honest. He'd much rather deserve the money he earned than use his talents for advantages against other people. Considering he was from Las Vegas himself, he knew the game well. He also knew how to count cards. Again, he never found much interest at putting it to the real test. There was also a doubt in his mind as to whether or not he should tell this man he could or not.

"I haven't tried before. It's far too easy to get caught these days," he mused, attempting to sound innocent. "I have a quick question.. if I may?" A disgruntled look appeared on the captor's face and he growled slightly.

"Well what is it?"

"May I know your name? I mean, seeing as you know mine and all. It seems the easiest way for me to contact you... especially if you plan on having me gamble to get you money." Swallowing back nervously, the man who hovered over him began to tap his fingers against the hem of his own jeans, considering what the young agent said.

"Rob. My name is Rob. We need to get you cleaned up. If you don't cooperate, I can assure you, you will regret it. So you best listen to me. I'm going to go inside and get a room at this motel. You're going to take a shower and put on your clothes. We will then proceed to go to an underground casino I know about in town. If you try to tell anyone about your circumstances or escape, innocent people will die. And we both know you don't want innocent people to die because of you now do we, Dr. Reid?"


It had taken Spencer merely half an hour to get ready. The gash beside his left eye was the only unnatural thing about him as he looked into the mirror. He had gotten his own privacy as he showered and put on a nice suit. Though, he wasn't really sure where it had come from or whom it belonged to. With a deep breath, he continuously pushed his hair behind his ears. It was clean and not as greasy as usual. Instead of staying slick, it had a sort of volume to it that made him look even more professional. Once he had finished brushing his teeth and smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit, a frightened expression crossed him as he glanced once more at the mirror. The conclusion he had come up with earlier that he wouldn't die was starting to sound less reassuring as he repeatedly said it in his mind. What would be the point in keeping him if he could win this man money? But his team would find him. And no doubt, Spencer Reid would assist them in doing so.

"You about done in there?" an aggravated voice shouted from the other side of the door. With another deep breath, Reid nodded to himself and turned the doorknob to face Rob. Few words were exchanged as they got into a car casually. It wasn't the bus they had been driving around in before. That would be too easily spotted of course. He didn't know how Rob had gotten his hands on it, but also figured it wasn't the time for questions either. Without hesitation, Reid pulled on his seatbelt and leaned back, his insides jumping around inside of him with both nervousness and fear.


"I think it's time we have a press conference," Hotch muttered as he stood sternly in the doorway of the office J.J. had been posted up in. It took her a moment to realize he was in the room and his words to go through her head straight. With all of the chaos going on, she was trying her best to help the team in finding the UnSub.

"Do you think it's a good idea to-"

"Reid is missing, J.J. We have pictures of him, Robert Priest and the vehicle they're in. Along with the license plate. I will not go on trying to find the clues when we can have other people out there searching. Doesn't that sound a bit more logical?"

The entire way Hotch was acting was almost foreign. He hardly ever went off on people during interrogations and he never bent the rules. It was always different when it involved one of their own. It was always different when it was Reid – the youngest member on the team, the smartest member on the team, the one member who Hotch didn't know if handling this emotionally would be easy for him or not. Surely not. Between the last time something remotely close to this happened and the small mishaps that just came with the job, Hotch was sure Reid wasn't prepared for this emotionally. He also knew there was nothing he could do about it. Basically, the faster they found him, the better. The less damage would be done.

"I'll get on it right away, Sir," J.J. said, interrupting the chief's thoughts. Without another word, Hotch nodded and turned on his heel to go back down the hallway. Surely someone will have found something by now. Prentiss approached him rather hurriedly as she clutched a piece of paper.

"Someone reported seeing the VW. It was about an hour ago just off I-65. They were headed north."

Considering this place was assumedly downtown, the area was rather bare. If anything, the most popular attraction was a small park maybe five blocks from where they were parking. Part of Reid felt as if he had been set up, but there was no point in that really.

"Alright listen to me, kid. You aren't to speak to anyone unless spoken to. Your name isn't Spencer Reid. You're not a doctor or in the FBI. You're to stay be me at all times. If you try to get away, you will most certainly regret it. If you behave, good things will happen in the future. If not, consequences beyond anything you can imagine will be in order."

Without another word, Rob got out of the car and Spencer followed shortly thereafter. After walking halfway down a deserted alleyway, Rob knocked on a door that looked to be abandoned. A small window opened and he leaned in to mutter a word to the person on the other side. The door was then opened for them and before Reid's eyes the scene changed. There were at least a couple hundred people packed into this small "underground casino". Everyone was just as dressed up as him. It was classier than a Las Vegas casino, that was for sure. Rob walked away to sit a table. They had gone over signals beforehand.

Reid still didn't understand this at all. It would be way too easy to screw everything up. One false move and they'd be kicked out of there. Technically, counting cards wasn't illegal, but it was most definitely frowned upon, even in small casinos like this one. More than anything, he craved a drink, but decided against ordering one as Reid was signaled to join the table. If there was a time in the life he had to be in full genius mode, it was now.

By the time he had gotten the hang of everything, it was all too easy. If he hadn't been in the situation he was in now, he'd probably consider this enjoying himself. Sure, even having been from Vegas himself he could've been doing this whenever he wanted to, he hadn't. It wasn't ever about the money to him. Of course, it most definitely couldn't be about the money now seeing as he wouldn't be receiving any for his own work. It had been nearly two hours before he excused himself to use the facilities. It had been so abrupt that he was sure Robert didn't even realize he had technically left his sight.

The small stall was hard to pace in, but the young agent managed to do so as he tried to figure out a way to contact his colleagues. Something. Anything. The door to the bathroom swung open with a loud whoosh.

"Come on, kid. We're leaving."

He didn't have the time. Now he just had to pray they would be making another stop before heading back to whatever hell was set up for him. He had to leave something behind.

The red, distinct numbers on the small digital clock read 10:34, a small dot next to it signaling it was in the evening. Morgan all but lost his mind as he stared at the numbers evolve into more time they had wasted. It was far too hard for him to concentrate. How could he let Reid go on his own? How could he be so careless? The thoughts popped into his head like a constant cruel reminder that he would never forgive himself if something happened. Hotch had advised him to take a nap, even though he seemed a little hesitant on advising the agent to do anything other than help find Reid. Many times, he had tried to convince himself to go find the father again – further question him. It would be useless now that he was lawyered up. It was all up to them now.

As if seeing something fresh would keep his mind more sane, he flipped on the switch to the television in the small room he was in. The first thing he saw, of course, was a snippet from J.J.'s press conference along with three pictures. One of Robert, one of the vehicle and it's license plate number and one of Reid. The last of them all was the one that made his heart sink. Then a more surge of fury spread throughout his veins. As unprofessional as it seemed, he was tempted to just tear apart whoever took his colleague. His friend.

"Morgan," said a voice from the door. A moment later, a head peeped through – the head of Dave Rossi, "someone's spotted the vehicle on the interstate and we just received another phone call. Someone has seen Reid within the last half hour. Hurry we're all meeting in the conference room."

The two agents scurried down the narrow hallway and into the conference room of the police department. Surrounding the table was Hotch, J.J., and Prentiss. The two joined them with silent nods to everyone. It was far too odd to be sitting like this without their youngest here blabbing his mouth on about things no one really cared about.

"Someone said they saw Reid and Robert at an underground casino around 9:45 this evening. Apparently he was gambling... He was the, quote 'luckiest man of the night'. Made over Four Grand and left. No witnesses have said if they saw where they left to though. So all we know is where he was roughly forty-five minutes ago. We still have a lot to look into, but it's a lead," Hotch explained.

They were on the road for nearly fifteen minutes before Reid had been able to gather the confidence to ask where they were going. Not know just didn't work for him. He needed to know everything at all times. Always.

"Where is it that um – we're going next?"

"It's time."

"Time for what?"

"It's time."

Reid swallowed and look back out the window. Part of him just wanted to jump out of the car right now. The major injuries would be better than dying. They will find me. He hesitated. But will they find me soon enough? His fingers grasped the door handle. He pulled it towards him and then pushed.

"You must think I'm a fool," said the cold voice in the driver's seat. "The child lock is on. You don't actually think I'd drive you around like this if it wasn't? You now have one consequence. Keep it up."

The rest of the ride was silent until they pulled into a small parking lot to what looked like a club. There were tour buses around everywhere. It hit Reid where they were immediately. Calling it anything less than the next crime scene would be misleading.

"If you make a scene, you'll regret it. Just follow me and do as I say." Again, the two began to walk down a narrow sidewalk where many girls were lined up. Many of them wore shirts that looked alike and grasped CDs and posters. Reid drastically wanted to reach out to one of them and tell them to somehow call the police. Somehow save him. He couldn't risk anyone else's life though. "Alright now you see that guy over there? Go distract him while I work on this one. I swear to God innocent lives will be taken if you make a scene." Reid simply nodded.

His feet felt heavy. This feeling was all too familiar. Save a life, another dies. The sickening feeling rose in his stomach and he could almost feel the bile in his throat. Blinking repeatedly, he approached the man he was supposed to.

"Hi I'm Spencer, Spencer Reid," he said with a warm smile. He held out his hand. "I really wish I was here to say I'm a big fan, but someone is in trouble." He kept his smile warm. "After I tell you this, I want you to laugh because we're being watched... someone is here and they're going to kill a friend of yours. You need to call the police. If you don't, more people than you could imagine will be in trouble. But don't get out your phone yet. Act like you're answering your phone or something and try to nonchalantly dial 911." Reid nodded and kept his warm smile. The one from the other was forced, but if this kid was right, the last thing he wanted to do was make a scene. To die.

"Go," he whispered and turned around to look for Rob. He wasn't in sight. He just needed to make up an excuse such as the man had to go inside and grab something. Like a water or his jacket. It wouldn't be too hard. By the time he was a few feet away, the light from his cellphone shown and Reid swallowed. Please, please, please...

A gun shot went through the air. Reid jumped to the ground instinctively, yelling out to the person in front of him to do so as well. He was too late. The bullet had been aimed at him in the first place. Rob knew. The only thing he could think to do now would be to run, but as soon as the idea comprehended his mind, a solid kick hit him in the stomach. Then another and another.

"I told you. You're so screwed kid. You won't even know what hit you. Come on and get your scrawny ass up before I make you."