Chapter 17

The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved -- loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves: -Victor Hugo

Hope

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

They drove back to base.

Another two days had gone and they were still no closer to finding Reid or getting information on the whereabouts of the Gert character. The DNA results were due back any time and they drove in silence with Derek at the wheel gripping it a bit too tightly and driving a little bit too fast occasionally which Hotch let go as he was sure if he was driving he would not be coping as well as Morgan. Rossi sat in the back with his eyes locked onto the side window but his mind a million miles away. Sure he hadn't known Reid for long, but to think that one of their own had been pulled into this sickened him. Nearly a week – a week of the gods only knew what was happening to him.

Aaron could only think of what Garcia was watching. She still insisted that she had seen no faces. She couldn't get a fix on any of the pictures they had sent through. She really didn't know what else they could do until they had the web address this was all coming from and then she informed Hotch, she was doubtful, if this was as well organised as it appeared that it was going to be a walk in the park getting what information she needed. She reminded them of the complication with the Hankel case, of how it was Reid who gave them the clues on how to find him and it reminded Hotch of how they got there too late. How Spencer had had to deal with it alone. How they had failed in their rescue mission.

"I have nothing to go on. I have no faces and no idea of location yet…All I know is that it's a big operation there are multiple 'victims' and more than one room used. I've seen no windows. So I can't even tell you if this is a warehouse or a basement. There is nothing."

Hotch told her to take a break. Stay around but leave the videos for now – they would get an address for her to work on. Eventually.

They had no idea where Emily had gone. Like Reid she had simply disappeared. Her cell phone was not being answered, but at least they knew she had done this voluntarily and hadn't been pulled into the same scene as Reid seemed to have been.

Hotch had very mixed feelings on going back to base now. On one hand they could maybe get the information they needed easier, but then he felt like they were abandoning Reid. It hurt. It hurt him not only as someone he felt was a friend, but as the team leader. The team he felt was disintegrating. Maybe it was Floyd they needed.

He turned to look at Rossi sitting in the back staring at his own reflection and then turned to look at Derek eyes fixed on the road ahead, face fixed in cement so that he didn't scream and he felt he too was looking at his own shadow in the window. He was beginning to feel slightly how Prentiss must have been feeling. Something was ripping into them as individuals and tipping them into their own nightmares. He swallowed, needing to say something but not wanting to break the silence.

"We need to find Flanders." He said it as much to himself as to the team. "If there is nothing on the tape. We need to find him."

There was no reply. They were all thinking the same thing: 'We should have listened to Prentiss.'

-o-o-o-

For Floyd things were not good. He had been left alone which was on the bright side of this miserable existence, but he was getting more and more lost with whatever was going on with Spencer. He wanted to take back some of the gift, but Reid wouldn't return it – or it was constantly in use. Floyd would have liked to have investigated what was going on because it had reached a point now that communication with him was closed. Spencer was almost always out of his mind on one thing or another. Which at first Floyd encouraged and very much enjoyed but now it was annoying. He needed to know who was hurting him – why he was in so much pain and why he was able to shoot up and snort constantly and have no barriers in his mind or life to stop it – but he couldn't. Reid wasn't listening anymore. In response to what ever Reid was doing and in fear that the one thing in his life he knew he needed was slowly going he gave him all he had.

Floyd curled up under the tarpaulin and closed his eyes and felt the maggots and insects in his brain crawling around and eating him away from the inside. That was ok…He could cope. He just needed to keep Spencer safe – and he was very aware of how much he had yet again fucked it all up.

-o-o-o-

He had fallen asleep tucked up with Ardal feeling again almost safe, but wondering where he had gone. Reid tried desperately to think back to what he was doing a week ago – two weeks ago – but it was a foggy mess. Everything had been blurred into one huge dark lump and it sat there festering at the back of his mind.

There were no nightmares. There was nothing. Just a big empty space where once at least monster had dwelt, but now just a frightening darkness – sometimes as he awoke he thought he could hear the beating of wings, maybe part – the last dregs of a dream forgotten as soon as his mind woke up, but it felt too real. It seemed familiar and threatening, but it was only there for a few seconds and was almost immediately gone again.

Today he woke up as usual with Ardal laying behind him. Today there were no arms. Ardal was already awake and sitting up looking down at Spencer.

"You don't look well." He said as Reid turned over to look at him. "They are taking too much of you Spencer. I don't like where this is going."

Spencer swung his legs over the side of the bed and was greeted by a thumping headache. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward putting his head in his hands. "I'll be OK." But his voice was shaking.

"I've seen this happen before."

Spencer felt a comforting hand start to gently rub his bony back. "Seen what?"

Ardal moved so he was kneeling on the bed behind Reid and kissed him gently on the back of the neck. "You – you've changed in just the few days we've known each other. I don't like it Spencer."

"You encouraged me to do this." He gestured to the mess on the floor. "And now you are moaning at me for it?"

"I didn't know you would - I don't know – go to such extremes, I suppose."

Reid stood up and looked around the room. "You think this is me? You think I did this?" He started kicking the remnants of another night of drugs and debauchery across the room. "This isn't me! I wouldn't do this – I couldn't do this!" He was shouting now and picking things up to throw.

"Hey – calm down. I wasn't having a go at you. I was just saying to take it slower."

He spun on Ardal. "Take it slower? I'm not taking it at all. Don't you listen? Can't you hear me say this isn't me?"

A deep frown spread over the other mans' brow. "OK Spencer, I can hear you."

Reid sat down on his own bed and resumed his head in hands sitting position. "You can hear me, but are you listening? I mean really listening to what I am saying?"

All he got back in reply was a shrug and then. "Well they called us ten minutes or so ago. They want you first."

Reid looked up at Ardal. He knew what this meant. The same as the past two days. He looked over the floor and found a pair of boxer shorts which he slid into and then walked over to the mirror on the floor. He picked it up and absent mindedly licked his fingers and ran it over the last remnants of powder on the surface.

Ardal understood. Anything to take the edge off the pain. Reid dropped the mirror back onto the floor again and with his heart thumping he stood against the wall next to the door to wait his turn.

"I'll see you later then." Ardal's voice was already coming from down a long deep tunnel. Spencer looked over at him and nodded.

"Yes. Later."

He stood and stared off into space until the door opened. Ardal was given something to eat. He would need energy. Spencer was taken by the arm and lead out. He wouldn't need to be doing much today. Just take it and rest and take some more. He looked down at his hands and saw how his once nice nails were now broken and chewed. A good reflection on how he was feeling inside.

It was a smallish sized room they took him to. This one was different. It was white. Plain white. Nothing else in it. Cameras set into the walls and red blinking lights in the corners. They pushed him into the room and told him to wait.

And he did. He stood in his light blue and green striped boxers with his arms tightly around him and his head looking at his feet. Spencer took deep breaths. He had been here before and they took great delight in using him in here. When the door swung open again and two men in black skin tight suits and masks walked in Reid still didn't look up. One of them held a club and the other a length of rope with a knot in the end.

The lights dimmed very slightly. Spencer assumed to take the glare off the walls – and they started to circle him. Still he just stood. He knew what they were going to do and he knew what was expected. He glanced over at the booted feet and he closed his eyes and sighed.

Hit number one took him across the small of his back. He made a small noise from deep inside and took half a step forwards to keep his balance just as the club caught him across the ear. This time as step to the side as his head began to spin and he unfolded his arms wanting to defend himself put knowing that wasn't what they wanted.

The crack under the chin from the club was the one which took him off his feet. It was with such force that he didn't have time to use his hands or arms to break the fall. His lungs forced out a cry of pain as first his back and then his head made hard contact with the floor. For second or two he lay there doing nothing. He had to get up again. They would want him to get up. Slowly he moved over onto his stomach and then onto his hands and knees. He could see the splat of blood on the floor from the back of his head and a trickle which he assumed was from his ear. Gradually but as fast as his spinning head would let him he got to his feet in a crouching position and then stood. He turned a slow half circle so that he was facing the same way again and waited.

A boot in the groin – a fist in the face – and as he went down again the boots continued they assault on his back and ribs.

He could feel that he had been kicked over so he had his back to the wall and as he opened his eyes he could see a lovely smear of blood over the floor where he had been booted to. The strange thing was that although he could feel it. He could feel his jaw cracking and his teeth loosening and he could feel the ribs snapping and his fingers being crushed – none of it actually hurt as such. It was just a sensation – and eventually it would go away. Eventually they would leave him alone and let him lay here and heal.

And they did leave him…taking deep breaths wrapping his arms around his bruised chest and waited for the next bit. He could tell when they stopped the filming because the lights came on too brightly. He squeezed his eyes closed and just concentrated on being somewhere else…anywhere else. He got wafts of the smells of the forest and cloth and blood. Always blood. His head thumped in time to his heart and he tucked his head in and pulled his knees up and just lay and waited.

-o-o-o-

Yet another tape.

She picked it up and slid the disc into the computer. This was different. This wasn't what the others had been. She sat and watched it for a while. It was the back of two guys….and they were very obviously shooting up. There was something about it which was very unsettling. For a couple of minutes she watched the two guys who seemed to be wearing bathrobes or something. As one of them started to slump forwards the other put his hand on the back of his robe and pulled it down at the back. Garcia just sat watching – not knowing what was going to happen next.

The guys back was painfully thin and covered in light marks and bruises. She bit on her bottom lip as the other took him by the shoulder and tipped him back onto the bed.

It was a split second. That was all. A very fleeting glance of a face before it was off screen again. Garcia froze. Carefully step by step she clicked rewind. She could feel tears building up in her eyes.

"Please let me be wrong." She muttered under her breath.

Her hands were shaking when she hit speed dial.

"Sir, can you come to the bunker. I have something I need to show you."

By the time Hotch arrived the tears were flowing freely.

"Garcia?" He stood behind her. "What's wrong?"

"I think I found Reid." She pressed a button and the screen in front of her showed two men. One half laying back and the other leaning for wards. Garcia zoomed in on the face of the one leaning back.

"Oh god." Hotch whispered. "And we still don't have a location?" He sat down on a chair next to Garcia.

"Sir I have done everything I can think of! They are not your average porn people. They are far from stupid. I can't get a location. I cant even get close to a location." She sighed. "You need to see it all."

She moved the video on to show the beginning again. The two of them putting the tubing around their arms. The needles - the slumping and the pulling down of the gown. Garcia froze the picture again.

"Sir." She looked over at Hotch who was staring blankly at the screen. "Sir – the thing is this – I know that back."

Hotch blinked and wiped his hands on the legs of his trousers. "What do you mean?" Hotch also knew that back. He had seen it in the showers. Reid didn't know he had seen. He had watched silently as the tall skinny agent soaped himself down and stood under the hot water. He knew every muscle and bone and mark Reid had on his body. And that was him.

"Well the other recordings, you can't see faces, but I recognise that back. The shape of it. The way the – well the way it's so bony – I had no idea it was Reid!"

Hotch was looking from Garcia and back to the screen. "How many? What sort of recordings?"

But Penelope was in full out sobbing mode now.

"Pull yourself together Garcia – this is one of our agents. What else have you seen with him in it?"

She looked up at Hotch. "I think almost from the beginning sir. Whippings and beatings and sex…..and drugs sir."

"Show me."

"Sir?"

"Now….I need to see everything."

"But sir…."

"How could you have missed this for so long?!" Hotch was losing his normal calm front. "It's your job to spot these things."

"I've never seen him naked!" and another burst of tears. "How was I to even begin to guess it was him?"

"You should have known Garcia. You just should have known." He muttered more to himself than to her.

-o-o-o-

Today was the day.

He sat up and stretched and wiped his hands over his head. The bone was hard and the hair growing well. He pulled a few maggots out of his hair and slipped them without thinking into his mouth. He chewed lazily and looked around the shed.

He walked with caution. Still the back of his heel was giving him problems and this – what he was going to do would have to be done with a slight bit of planning. He scratched at his head again and then tucked his hair behind his ears. He ran a finger over the still purple coloured line over his stomach. Eventually it would go or at least fade, but for now it was good reminder of how pissed off he was with these people.

There would be no messing around here. It would have to be quick and clean. He could have fun once it was safe. He picked up a few useful bits off the floor.

He had a lovely toothy smile on his face as he tipped his head back and started to howl.

Floyd waited. They were predictable. The door swung open and the flashlight shone over the tarpaulin. He stepped forward and pulled it back. There was a pile of old bits of wood and blankets under it. Floyd watched Pa stare at it for a while. He could almost hear his brain ticking over.

"You looking for me?" Two steps in. One hand on a shoulder the other in his hair. A snap and Pa was on the floor. He pulled him out of the way of the door and turned off the flashlight. He moved the shotgun out of the way and stood back and waited. It wouldn't be long before the next one came out to see what was taking Pa so long.

He didn't have to wait too long.

Kelly walked over. He could tell it was him by the way he dragged his feet. A lazy brain and lazy feet to match. He readied the bit of cord around each of his hands and again couldn't help but smile.

One foot through the door and then the next. A half turn to see Pa laying on the floor was all Floyd needed. The cord was around Kelly's neck and pulling him back out of the doorway and into the shadows of the shed. Floyd saw as he put hands up to his neck trying to release the cord slowly cutting in…slowly letting the scum's blood out. He felt him quiver and shake against him as he pulled harder and the arterial spray hit Floyd in the face and went up the wall behind him. He felt the body get heavy and it felt good. Floyd felt a lightness in his heart as he let go and watched him slump to the floor.

Again he pulled him out of the way and made sure the gun was discarded.

He didn't have to be so careful now. Now he could play. Floyd flexed his ankle and cursed that it was actually hurting him and stepped back waiting.

Ten full minutes. Longer than he would have thought before Bo walked in through the shed door.

"What in the name of……."

Floyd stepped forward. "The name is Floyd. If you were wondering. If you had ever bothered to ask."

Bo swallowed. "Look man, this wasn't my fault."

"I was there remember? When my brains got shot out?"

"Yeah but…"

"And you dragged me back here and tied me up….wasn't your fault." Floyd rubbed at the end of his nose. "Well I'm sure as hell sorry about that Bo but you're going to have to pay for someone else's crime. I got fucked over…and when you thought I was dead you screwed me."

"Oh for…………No that wasn't me."

"I don't give a flying fuck if it was you or not. You and these other two scum, you dirty inbreeds you are the same. I don't distinguish between on or the other…"

"No you…you don't understand mister."

Floyd took a painful step forward. "Exactly what don't I understand Bo?" He put a hand out and touched him on the chest. "Tell me…come on – it might save your miserable life."

"It wasn't me!"

The expression Floyd pulled could have been seen as 'I'm sorry.' But Floyd didn't know what that word meant, so it was probably just a mistake. With one hand on the man's chest and one now on his shoulder he pushed his hand through flesh and fat and muscle and bone and anything else that got in its way until he reached his heart. It was still beating when Floyd ripped it from his chest. He held it up for Bo too see as he let go of him and let him fall to the floor.

He stood for a while just looking at it and then smiled.

"I did good. I did the right thing." He had to work fast before they started to get cold. He worked on Kelly first kneeling down next to him he ripped into his chest and tore open his rib cage. He did this in a way he loved the best. He smiled and dived in head first ripping out the heart with his teeth. He sat and sucked at it for a while and then turned to Pa.

"I have plans for you." Again he removed the heart first and lapped at the contents which dripped and ran down Floyd's arms. He then flipped him over onto his back and gave him what Reid had been giving Ardal all week.

It was late in the night by the time Floyd was sitting again surrounded by ripped up bodies. He had promised that Pa was going to be the first ….and he was….

Raw heart was always one of Floyd's favourites. The livers went down well too. Slowly he ate his way through the tender bits of Pa and his two sons.

The shotgun found its self a new home.