A/N: I think I'm gonna have to put a warning on this one.. It's pretty bad whumping ahead. But I know you like it...! Beta read, bunny-enhanced and partially written by the Gublerific editor frog!

Thursday

After what had to be hours, Reid finally uncurled his bare legs out from underneath him. They had fallen asleep from remaining pressed against the solid floor for so long.

When are they going to come and get me? he thought. Haven't I been "good" for long enough?

Then a realization passed over the young agent. They aren't coming for me. They never were. It was all just a way to make me "behave" and stop lashing out.

Reid was furious. Sick, sad, ashamed, and completely furious. His mind refused to co-operate with the thought of being someone's personal lap dog, and so did his body.

In spite of the lingering darkness, the young agent mustered up the courage to rebel against his fear, and hoisted himself quickly off of the floor, storming over towards the camera lens and its glowing red indicator.

"Why are you doing this to me!" he shouted, his voice radiating his anger. "Haven't you had enough! Or maybe you won't be happy until you've killed me!"

He stomped closer to his one portal outside this dark, putrid hellhole. "Well, I'm through! I'm done playing your psychotic game! I'm not gonna lie down and die just because it might make you happy and serve your sick, perverted purpose! I don't care anymore!"

Before he could stop himself, he saw his long fingers start grasping for the camera lens. He scratched and clawed at the object buried deep into the wall, hoping to pry it loose.

"If I'm gonna die in here, I'm gonna do it on my terms!" Reid screamed. "Not with you or anyone else watching and enjoying every bit of pain and humiliation I go through!"

He clawed at the camera until his fingers bled. It remained fast; still recording, still transmitting his sick, personal hell for all - or a few - to see.

Frustrated, Reid picked up the first weighted object that his hands could find in the dark - it was the dishpan, which was made of stainless steel. Taking it up into his hand, he chucked the metal object towards the camera, hoping to shatter the lens.

It didn't faze the glass. It simply bounced off the wall, clattering to a rest at Reid's feet.

Heaving a savage cry, Reid searched for another object—the electric razor. He threw it as hard as he could at the camera, only to hear a small chink when the plastic struck the glass.

Focusing his eyes, the young agent thrust out a hand and tried to see if he'd managed to break the glass lens. His fingers ran over mostly smooth, intact glass—there was only one tiny imperfection near the rim of the camera lens, where the razor must have connected with it.

Completely enraged, Reid began throwing everything in the room he could get his hands on---everything, that is, except his drinking glass. When none of them managed to hurt the thick glass eyelet, Reid sank to the concrete floor in despair. He began sobbing harder than ever.

I'm going to die here. One way or another, I'm going to die in this miserable hellhole. Even if anyone manages to find me, it'll be too late.

Reid's heart broke. He had been tortured, starved, humiliated, and broken - and all for a reason he would have no way of knowing. Tears burning in the wound under his eye, he cried out loud, tugging at the little hair he had left on his head.

The young doctor hurt everywhere. The bodily aches he could handle, but his psychological agony was much harder to deal with. The feeling of having lost every shred of human worth, the young doctor lay down on the floor, curling up into fetal position.

He lay on the warm concrete, crying until exhaustion took him.

----

The night had been hard on the entire remaining part of the BAU. Having spent the night at a nearby hotel, they all began losing hope of ever finding Reid. All tracks they had been on had ended abruptly or lead straight into nowhere.

None of them had slept more than an hour or so as they returned to the station, eyes bloodshot and limbs somewhat more limp than usual. Garcia had been up nearly all night trying to decipher the personal code used in Cate's and Sienna's conversations on the computer, but had not been successful. As Morgan walked into the conference room, he had her on speakerphone.

"Spill it, Garcia."

"Well, I haven't been able to get a lot out of these logs, except a few things that actually made sense."

"Go ahead."

"Well, they're discussing someone named 'Baby Boy Blue' a lot, so I'm assuming that's Reid. There are a lot of references to movies and books, and since I am a complete nerd when it comes to those things, I could figure out most of them."

"They began planning this a little less than a year ago, according to the logs. Before that, no messages were coded, it was all plain talk. Sienna, or AscendingAnger as she called herself in the chats, told Cate, alias emerson ford, all about what had happened in her youth. A year ago the tone changed and Sienna became more irate, agitated and irrational. Strangely enough, Cate responded in kind."

"Sympathy anger. It's common in close relationships." Emily listened to Garcia's description of the women's discussions.

"How can a relationship be close when it's based on the internet?" JJ asked.

"Believe me, JJ, some of my best relationships have been internet ones. Anyway, about three weeks after Sienna's change, the messages changed too. I can figure out what they're saying, but I have no idea where they are. They never mention a location, not in code or in plain writing."

"What about the third woman?" Gideon took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee.

"Tracy? She joined the chats nine months ago. She has only written in code, nothing in plain text. Her nickname, tasselglow, doesn't show up in quite as many places in the conversations, but she's definitely involved in this, no doubt about it."

"At least we know exactly who we are looking for." Hotch rubbed his sore eyes in a try to regain some additional focus.

"Which is nothing more than we knew three days ago." Emily haplessly leaned back into her chair, burying her tired face in her hands.

"I'm sorry I can't be more help, guys. I wish there was something I could... Oh, no."

"'Oh, no', what?" Morgan frowned as he heard the concerned voice on the other side of the line.

"There's another riddle."

"We'll take it, Garcia. You keep working with the logs, see if you can dig anything out of the code." Hotch rose and went to sit beside Emily at the lap top.

"Okay. Call me if you need anything." Click.

Morgan took his phone from the table and put it back into his pocket. "Alright, what does Ms. Psycho have for us today?"

"It's another YouTube-video. I'll bring it up." Emily tapped a few keys and clicked the link leading to the riddle.

After watching the riddle play, the team immediately sprung into action, knowing that this would be the most important clue to solve since the beginning of the frantic search for Reid.

----

A sharp kick to the ribs woke Reid from his exhaustion-induced sleep.

"Ow!" he cried out, curling into a ball to avoid his unseen attackers. "Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone!"

Another sharp kick, this time to Reid's legs. The young man tried to tuck his limbs underneath himself, but to no avail. Two strong pairs of hands grabbed his arms and violently threw him up against the wall.

"No!" Reid screamed. "Do whatever you want - I'm not going to cooperate anymore!"

The reaction from his assailants was instantaneous. One pair of hands let him go, while the other hardened their grip. The blinding pain that shot through his mid-section made Reid cry out in agony as he doubled over, trying to protect himself from the steel fist that would most definitely return to further pound his kidney.

Feeling himself once more being slammed up against the wall, the wind was knocked out of him and he gasped for breath. Another punch to his side made him whimper, not having enough air in his lungs to scream.

The fist connecting with his jaw sent him flying over the floor, as the grip around him was released. Tumbling over the warm concrete, he lost all sense of direction and his balance was thrown off completely. Reid tried to crawl away from the attackers, but ended up banging his head straight into the massive wall.

The hands reappeared around his arms, lifting him square off the ground. The brutal impact with the concrete wall made him cry out in pain once more, as the hands left him standing alone.

The strike in his stomach, most likely a kick, was more powerful than the other ones, and the young doctor could feel something crack in the lower part of his ribcage as he fell to his knees, holding his stomach and his chest. He coughed and struggled to gain his breath. His body wouldn't stand for any more of this abuse. The hands returned and lifted him up against the wall, and simply held him still.

Finally, Reid gave in. He stood there limply, being supported only by the strong hands that held him to the wall.

"Why don't you just kill me?" Reid asked in a hoarse voice. "Just…just kill me and be done with it. You're never going to let me out of here; why not just end it and be done?"

As before, there was no answer. A hand reached for Reid's, and placed a familiar object in it. It was the pair of scissors.

"What?" he questioned softly. "What do I need this for? I don't have anything left!"

Another hand traced down Reid's side, slid itself just underneath the waistband of his boxers, and tugged gently.

No. No. Oh, God, no…

"I won't do it," Reid said defiantly. "I will not give that up. Not ever."

The young man's head spun as he reeled from a vicious backhand to the face. Again, the hand that had run down his side tugged at the waistband of the boxers, but with more force.

The next sound Reid heard was that of a gun cocking, and a pair of scissors opening and closing. The implication was crystal clear - take them off or we'll cut them off. NOW.

Stubbornly, Reid refused. He let his hands hang limp from his sides, and he slowly shook his head, screwing up his battered face for the anticipated blow.

Instead, it was the young agent's ears that were assaulted; the next sounds Reid heard were that of the scissors cutting through fabric. He could feel the cold metal shears trailing down his sides as the last remnant of modesty he had was destroyed by sharp blades.

When both sides were cut through, the fabric fell unceremoniously to the floor. Completely ashamed and totally exposed, Reid felt as though he wanted to die. He tried miserably to cover himself with his hands.

A hand reached behind him and shoved him to the floor; the young man's knees connected with the concrete so sharply that he winced from the pain.

A foot tapped at Reid's arms; blindly, he began searching for the pieces of cloth that had fallen from his waist.

As soon as he took hold of them, he clung to them tightly. Though they were no longer serviceable, he just couldn't let these monsters take his last shred of dignity without a fight.

Something cold tapped Reid's back; it was the pair of scissors. A foot kicked up at the wisps of fabric dangling from Reid's hand. The young agent understood what he was expected to do - continue shredding the cloth until there was nothing left.

Curling into a ball, Reid refused. He tried to push his captors away from him and kept a firm grasp on what remained of his boxer shorts.

The cell fell silent. The young doctor thought for a moment that the assailants may have left him alone after all. His desperate wish for solitude was shattered as he heard a soft clinking sound cutting through the silence.

The sound was so familiar, but the young agent couldn't place it. His mind racing, he clung to the piece of fabric that was once his boxers.

Suddenly, there was a brief whooshing sound, like something falling rapidly through the air. Reid registered the sound, but had no time to contemplate it before a burning pain shot through his left buttock.

Reid screamed in agony, as he tried to cover himself with his arms. But there was no use in attempting to shield himself; the strikes hailed over him, not missing a single beat. His arms, legs, back and behind were massacred by the savage beating.

Every time the object of use hit his skin it made a loud swatting sound, and suddenly Reid realized what was happening. The clinking sound he had heard before had been a belt being unbuckled.

He was being flogged.

Screaming in anguish, he desperately tried to hide from the ruthless pounding. Whenever he moved, the belt would move to another place and continue its ferocious battery there.

The young doctor screamed and cried from the pain, and from the humiliation of lying naked on the floor, virtually being spanked for being 'naughty'.

"Oh, God! Please stop! Please!"

Just as sudden as the beating had begun, it ended. Reid felt the piece of fabric he had been clutching being ripped from his hands. As he lay crying on the floor, he heard the footsteps moving around the room, and small rustling sounds around him.

After a minute or so, the room fell silent again. Reid prayed that he wouldn't have to endure any more battery. He couldn't take it. The next thing he heard was the heavy hatch slam shut and being locked tight.

The young man broke out crying even harder. Salty tears of utter humiliation ran down his face and burned his eyes. Gingerly running his hands over his skin as he lay on the floor, he felt welts rising all over his body. They were about an inch wide and of different lengths.

His buttocks and back seemed to have been affected the worst. As he felt the tender skin on his behind he felt a thick, warm fluid lingering on it. He was bleeding.

There was no way the young man could sit up in this condition, so he remained on his stomach on the floor. At least, in this position, no one would see him at his most vulnerable. Pulling his knees up to his chest, his backside burned like fire, and he whimpered through his tears.

Oh, God...please... Please, let me die.

A/N again: Do you want to help the BAU solve the riddle? Visit my profile and click the link named Riddle Number 6 to give it a try! Who knows - YOU might be the one to save Reid!