Chapter 3

It was hard going.

Reid was never strong, and he was in a lot of pain. Only the knowledge that he had to go on for Hotch's sake kept him on his feet.

Hotch didn't speak, but his hand around Reid's shoulder gripped tightly. His breathing was labored, as he tried to avoid putting his left leg down.

Every now and again he would stumble; Reid managed to stop him from falling.

But he knew he would have to stop soon.

"Hotch," he whispered," We have to rest a bit. I can't…..I think I'm going to faint."

Reid slumped sideways against a tree. "I'm going to help you to sit down, Hotch."
Very gently he lowered Hotch to the ground and leaned him against the tree. Then he sat beside him. He was light headed and felt very sick. He gently reached out and put his hand against Hotch's wounded leg. He could feel heat through the bandage, and he knew that meant it was infected. He leaned back against the tree. He would have to get them out of there pretty soon if they were to survive, but in his dazed and shocked state, he couldn't think further than 'now'.

He tried some brain exercises that he had done as a child, but they just got mixed up in his head. He couldn't concentrate in this much pain, and he couldn't work through it.

He spoke to Hotch without moving. "You okay?"

"I'm so sorry, Reid. I…." Hotch couldn't find the right words. He was supposed to be the tough one, the one leading from the front, stoic and reliable. He hated having to rely on Reid. He knew Reid didn't have the physical strength to carry him.through this.

He felt tears in his eyes. He had never felt so inadequate, so pathetic.

He turned to Reid. Reid had his eyes closed, and was sleeping fitfully. Very gently, Hotch put his arm around him and pulled him closer. Reid was very cold, only wearing a light short sleeved shirt. Hotch shrugged out of his jacket and with great gentleness and care, wrapped it around Reid's shoulders. Drawing him close, he rested Reid's head on his shoulder, and went to sleep.

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"Is it Benton Cross?"

JJ was standing at the top of the bank with Emily, looking down as the police divers dragged the body out of the river. Morgan was there waiting to look at the body. He knelt down next to it and looked up at the girls.

"It looks like it." He called up to them. "Best wait until we've got him up there out of the water to be sure."

The body was zipped into a bag and carried up the bank. Morgan motioned for them to stop at the top, and unzipped the bag.

The three of them looked into the man's dead face.

"It's Benton Cross." said Emily.

"Just a minute," Morgan held up his hand to prevent the pathologist from closing the bag. "What do you make of this?"

Morgan was pointing to marks on the man's legs. "Is that what I think it is?"

Emily gaped in horror. JJ just stared. Morgan snatched out his mobile.

"I can't reach Hotch." Morgan checked the reception and re-dialed. "Or Reid!" He felt an unaccustomed panic as he called Garcia. "Get me Hotch, Baby Girl. It's urgent." He switched the phone to speaker.

"I can't! We've lost them!"

"Contact the jet!"

"That's just it. The jet went of course for 200 miles, then disappeared off the radar. The pilot may have been avoiding turbulence, but he should have radioed in."

"Was there no contact at all?" said Emily, fear in the pit of her stomach.

"We're coming back, Baby Girl." He snapped off his phone, and looked at the others. "I don't believe this. What the hell is going on?"

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Hotch's eyes were open in an instant. He had not meant to go to sleep, but the effect of the drug and shock had made it impossible to stay awake.

The cold metal of Reid's gun pressed into his forehead.

The warmth of Reid's head resting on his shoulder.

It all flooded back to him.

Instinctively, he drew Reid closer.

The tiny movement was not lost on Cross.

With his free hand, he grabbed Reid by the front of his shirt and pulled him upright. Reid's eyes snapped open, widening in fear, but before he could speak, Cross thrust his face close to Reid's.

Reid could almost taste his breath.

"You thought you were safe, Bitch," he spat, "'You are safe now. He can't hurt you now. We won't let you be in the dark.'" he mimicked. He pulled Reid closer. Reid tried to pull away, turn his head. Cross shook him roughly. "Let's see just how dark it can get!"

The gun did not waver in his hand. Hotch grabbed at Cross's wrist, but without taking his eyes off Reid, he kicked savagely at Hotch's leg. Hotch yelped and let go of Cross.

Cross lifted Reid off his feet and threw him aside as if he were nothing. The cold hard earth scraped open the cut on his forehead, and the blood started to flow again. He cried out as he landed on his arm. A wave of nausea flooded over him, and he blinked back tears of pain. He felt so angry and defiant, but he was not in any condition to resist.

"Hotch…" he heard himself whimper. He needed to be there for his friend. He was the brains of the outfit. How had he let this happen?

He rolled over onto his back to take the pressure off his arm, but just that effort made his head swim.

"It's OK Hotch; they'll be looking for us."

His lips formed the words, but they came out in a whisper.

Hotch, eyes straight ahead and unflinching, waited. Cross turned his attention back to the man at his feet.

Without saying a word, gun still against Hotch's skin, foot resting gently on his leg, he reached into Reid's bag and took out zip ties.

"Don't you try anything." He warned.

Moving behind the tree, gun at Hotch's temple, he ordered Hotch to put his arms round the tree.

In one skillful movement, he had Hotch helpless. He moved back and stooped in front of him. "How nice of you to bring your own restraints." He smiled sickly. Deftly he removed Hotch's tie, and tied Hotch to the tree round his neck.

"Can't have you turning your head away. I've got a show for you to watch!"

He hit him hard on the mouth. Hotch could taste blood.

He put the gun back in the bag. "Won't be needing this now for a while!" He grinned. He crossed over to where Reid was laying. Reid summoned up his remaining strength and tried to move away.

"Where do you think you are going, Bitch?"

He picked Reid up by th front of his shirt and stood him on his feet. Reid desperately tried to keep upright.

"Leave him alone!" Hotch struggled against the ties holding him. "Leave him, he's just a kid."

"Shut the xxxx up!" screamed Cross.

Reid kept his eyes on Cross.

"Take me instead!" Hotch was feeling desperate. He needed to distract Cross; he needed to get him to untie him.

"I said shut up!" He punctuated this last word by punching Reid hard in the stomach.

Reid couldn't stay upright under the assault. He doubled up as the air left his lungs. Groaning softly, he fell to the ground.

Cross knelt next to him. He took a knife from the bag and showed it to Reid. He gently laid it flat against Reid's face and began stroking him with it, wiping away the newly flowing blood. Seeing the terror in the young man's eyes made him laugh.

He placed the point of the knife against Reid's eye. Reid tried to pull away, close his eye. Cross grinned and removed the knife.

"No! That would be too easy." Swiftly, he sliced through the bandages that were holding Reid's arm against his body. The sudden release made Reid cry out.

"Save your screams, boy, you're going to need them later!"

Roughly he turned Reid onto his front. Reid couldn't help it, he screamed. He felt bone grind against bone as Cross brutally yanked Reid's arms behind him and tied them.

Reid was sobbing now. The agony in his arm, the fear, worry for Hotch, the guilt, it was too much.

"Oh, shut up you baby for xxxx sake!" screamed Cross.

He hit him hard on the side of the head, and Reid fell into blackness.

Cross lifted him up by the back collar of his shirt, and dragged him over to Hotch.

Hotch tried not to react. He hadn't been able to see what was happening, but now he could. Reid's arms were behind his back now. Hotch couldn't imagine how that must have hurt. He remembered the pain when Cross kicked his leg. Reid's face was covered in blood, running freely from the gash on his forehead, his jaw discoloring where he had been hit, eyes closed.

"What are you going to do to him?" Hotch asked softly.

Cross stooped down and looked into Hotch's face.

"Worried about your Bitch, are you?" he snickered.

He dragged Reid a little way from Hotch. The sun was coming up, the sky a beautiful deep blue. It was going to be a lovely day.

"Please," Hotch begged, "Let him go."

Cross ignored him. "Wake up, Bitch!"

He shook Reid awake. Reid opened his eyes.

"Help me…..Hotch!"

Cross pushed Spencer Reid face down in the dirt. With one hand on the back of his neck, the other arm around his waist, Cross lifted him clear of the ground. He pulled at Reid's zip.

Spencer suddenly knew what was happening. A grey blanket of fear enveloped him. He tried to twist away, but Cross's grip was too tight He mouth was full of dirt where Cross had forced his face down. Desperately he turned his head and gasped for air.

"Please don't." he sobbed softly. "Oh god, please, no."

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Hotch tried to shut the screams out of his mind. It was cutting into him more than any knife could. He wanted to call out to Spencer, but he had no words. He concentrated on getting loose.

The tree he was tied to was rough. He concentrated his energy on scraping the plastic ties against the bark. Eventually they would weaken, and he could free himself.

Still Spencer's screams filled the air and Hotch's head.

Oh God, please let it be over soon