A/N: Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog! And thank you everyone who are reviewing my work!
A/N 2: I noticed I forgot to post the link to the clue mentioned in this fic! I'm sorry about that, and there is now a link in my profile for those who are interested in trying! It's marked as Riddle Number 7. Good luck!
Friday
Reid woke slowly from his dreamless sleep. Disoriented, he looked around in the now dim cell. The darkness been replaced by a soft glow, which the young doctor's eyes quickly adjusted to. Looking around, he discovered that the room was completely empty, except for the drinking glass and the half empty bottle of water. The UnSubs had taken another full bottle away from him.
At least now he could see enough to get up and have a drink. As the young man tried to get up, he caught a glimpse of his battered body; and it made him shudder. He had purple colored welts all over his arms and legs, bruisings covering his upper torso, and the floor around him was stained with blood.
Turning his head to get some form of view of his backside, the young agent instantly felt his stomach churn. Trails of dried blood had run down his buttocks, back and legs; the cracked skin looked like a filled in connect-the-dots-map.
He had to turn away to prevent himself from being violently ill.
Without knowing it, he had become both delerious and irrational, and unfamiliar thought crowded in his head.
Why did they do this to me? Was I bad? I must have been bad. That's why they spanked me. I did something bad. I was naughty. I deserved it.
Dragging himself to a standing position, he slowly limped over to the water bottle by the wall. Carefully taking the glass from its protected spot in the corner, he placed it on the floor in front of the bottle.
The strength he had to muster up to lift the container of water made him whimper. His arms ached from the beating; the skin felt three sizes too small for his body, stretching terribly with every move.
Water splattered all over the place as the young agent's arms trembled when he poured the water into the glass. Eventually he had filled it to the brim, and fell to his knees, greedily gulping down every last drop of wonderful liquid.
Placing the glass back in the corner, he felt his stomach rumble. When was the last time I got something to eat? he thought.
When was the last time I got to keep it down?
The young man could feel his body becoming weaker and weaker; he nearly didn't have the strength to stand up. Relieving himself over the filthy porcelain bowl, his stomach roared for nutrition.
The concrete floor had never been harder as the young agent gingerly sat down, leaning on his hip instead of his buttocks.
Am I going to survive this? Or will they leave me down here to die? It doesn't matter anymore. It really doesn't matter anymore.
--
Another practically sleepless night had gone by for the BAU. The image of Reid lying naked in the cell, crying, had etched itself on the cornea of both Hotch and Gideon, who were yet to recover from the startling sight.
Returning to the Saginaw police station, the team had taken one of the interrogation rooms in possession after finding out their previous location had been bugged. Setting up camp in the small room, the BAU was anxious to get to work.
Emily was still at work with the previous riddle; despite the fact that they had failed to give the correct answer. But solving the riddle could possibly give them a heads up on the whereabouts of their youngest member.
Morgan was waiting by the computer, hoping that a new clue would appear any minute. He was furious knowing that Reid was out there somewhere and there was absolutely nothing they could do. All their attempts to find their colleague had been fruitless, but Morgan refused to lose hope.
Gideon sat in his chair, thinking. What drives this woman? One simple thing: revenge. She's a method/reason-abductor, but she is completely off the map. Nothing fits the profile for this kind of abductor, except the fact that she is determined to hurt me through my 'son'; and she is succeeding.
Morgan's phone began chirping in his pocket, and pressing the button for speaker phone he answered. "Talk to me, doll; and tell me you have something."
"Sorry, sweetness; I have nothing. Another night, another gallon of coffee, and I have nothing. The logs are pure gibberish and the searches on Cate Carell and Tracy Graham haven't given me a thing. They're both completely and freakishly normal women, working and studying; not a shred of therapy or records of any kind!"
"And Sienna?" Gideon asked.
"Sienna. Well, we know her history so far. I found her registered on a flight to Sweden about nine months ago, but she's never been registered to return. Angelica Monroe came into the US with an American passport and citizenship four months ago."
"Forged identity, the criminal's best friend." Morgan shook his head.
"It's all I have. I'm sorry you guys. I wish I could do more."
"It's okay, Garcia. We'll find him. I'll call you if we find or need something."
"I'll be here." Click.
Morgan stuck his phone back into his now wrinkled khakis. "We've been on so many assignments during the years. Why does this have to be the impossible one?"
"It's not impossible; we just haven't caught our break yet." Emily leaned back, dropping the thick book on the table. "Well, it's not from Titus Andronicus."
Hotch sighed, faith dropping more and more every time a possibility was discarded. "How is he going to be punished?"
JJ looked up from her encyclopedia. "What?"
"He was going to be punished today because of our failure with the clue. What's going to happen to him?"
"Let's not think about that." Gideon rose and began pacing the room. "Our focus has to stay on what we know."
Morgan nodded slowly as he sat by the computer. He knew Gideon was right; even though he was about to slug him for playing Sherlock Holmes at a time like this.
Suddenly, the screen changed from black to scarlet red. Morgan sat up straight in the chair, grabbing the table. This is it.
The others gathered around him, seeing his reaction. A message showed up in the middle of the LCD-screen, in thick black letters.
Agents;
I noticed that you finally found the listening device we placed in the conference room. Good for you. That should give you a small advantage from now on.
However, today you will get your final clue. There will be no more help in the hunt for your colleague. After this you'll be on your own.
I admit, it's been fun. Dr. Reid was a nice plaything, but he was very stubborn. I think he needed the punishment he was given last night.
Agent Gideon;
Don't think for a moment that I am done with you. You were the cause of my father's death, and you will suffer the consequences for your actions.
Dr. Reid was only the beginning. In time, everyone you love and hold dear will be gone, and you will be alone – just like you are forcing me to live my life; alone.
It hurts – doesn't it?
Sienna
There was not a breath drawn in the entire interrogation room as the message slowly dissolved on the screen.
Hotch was the first to break the silence. "Why does she refer to Reid in past tense?"
"Because she's done with him." Gideon's stomach twisted into an agonizing knot, threatening to force him to vomit.
JJ stood up and slowly walked towards the door, holding her forehead. She staggered as she reached the entrance, and grabbed the door post with her free hand.
Emily rose and took her arm. "Are you okay?"
JJ shook her head. "No... I..." She slapped her hand in front of her mouth and bent over slightly.
The brunette quickly took a good hold of her colleague, leading her towards the bathroom.
The three men were left in the small room, all waiting for the same thing; the next clue. Morgan shook his head in dismay. "I'm no goddamn Nancy Drew; give us something to work with!"
As on cue, a link appeared on the red screen, accompanied by the usual textbox. Morgan swiftly clicked the link, and another YouTube-video played before them.
When the film had ended, the three simply stared at the screen. "Follow my finger where? What map?"
--
Reid sat slumped down against the wall. The room was still dim, and that was fine with him. Darkness was horrifying and the light was too bright for his weary eyes. The young doctor had nothing to focus on except his own breathing and his heartbeats.
To keep from going crazy, he counted every heartbeat he could feel in his chest. It kept his mind busy; momentarily kept him from thinking about whether he would die or not. Hearing his heartbeats reminded him that he was still alive.
The hatch broke the silence as it opened with a deafening creak. Reid cautiously looked at the opening above him, not moving a muscle to approach it. There was now no telling who or what would come into his cell.
But the only thing making its way down the hatch was the familiar basket. The young agent could feel the smell of it the moment it entered the room. It was food.
As the claw released the basket on the floor and returned to the room above, Reid strenuously rose and shuffled over to see what was in it. What he saw made his mouth water.
It was a bowl of chili, a container of milk, an apple and a piece of green Jell-O. Placed across the bowl was a plastic spoon.
Reid pounced on the basket, every inch of his skin screaming in protest as he bent over to retrieve the food. Like an animal protecting its prey, the young man retreated into one of the corners, holding his meal tight in his hands.
Practically throwing the food into his mouth, he began to wonder why he was getting this feast.
I must have been good! Yes, that's it. I've been good. I deserve food now. Food, oh God, food!
After finishing his meal, his stomach hurt terribly. The nutrition hitting his system was not a pleasant experience; not when food only entered his body every other day or so. Breathing to relax his cramping stomach, he leaned back against the wall. His behind had gone numb a long time ago.
It took quite a while before the hatch opened again and the line returned to retrieve the basket. As it fell from the opening, Reid pulled his knees up to his chest, ignoring the pain shooting through his skin.
When the basket had been hauled up, the young doctor expected the hatch to close; but to his surprise it didn't. Instead, the basket returned; stopping halfway down, jerking slightly.
Not feeling up for any more perverted games, Reid decided to obey. Rising, he shamefully tried to shield himself from the prying eyes watching him. Keeping one hand over his privates, he reached into the basket to find the anticipated note.
And there it was. The basket returned up, and the hatch slammed closed. Holding the piece of paper in his free hand, he read the note – and almost began to cry.
Dr. Reid. The dinner you have just consumed contained a large amount of very powerful laxative. This may be a problem to you, as your toilet is clogged; and probably beginning to fill up by now.
This is what I want from you: an apology for being childish, insubordinate and foul mouthed to me. You will deliver this apology standing in the middle of the room with your hands behind your back, looking straight into the camera. Don't forget to speak in a loud and clear voice.
This is what you will receive: a plunger, and a roll of toilet paper.
You will get the reward after you apologize.
Reid stared at the note in terror. He was already dangerously dehydrated; this would worsen his condition considerably. Looking up at the camera, there was no doubt in his mind that they had actually put something in his food.
He could feel his stomach cramping; there wasn't much time. He came to a decision. Walking out in the middle of the room, he took his hand off his privates and placed it on his back with the other. Biting down hard, he raised his eyes towards the camera, looking straight into it.
The shame and humiliation raced through his body, making his face blush and eyes tear up. Trying to steady himself, he cleared his throat before speaking.
"I'm...sorry for acting like a child."
The words burned his mouth as he resisted the urge to heave from the total humiliation he had to endure.
"I'm sorry for not being obedient and for using such foul language."
He had to dig his fingernails into his wrists behind his back to keep from crying.
"I'm sorry that I have been so rude and I'm sorry for my outburst before."
He bit his lip.
"Please forgive me."
Standing silent in the middle of the room, Reid could feel the oncoming explosion in his lower regions, and he threw himself on the toilet just in the nick of time.
The smell was revolting.
The young doctor felt his insides contorting as he cringed on the porcelain bowl, holding his stomach tight. Small cries of pain escaped him occasionally as he bent over to ease the pressure.
After a while of struggling with his bodily functions, he heard the hatch open. This time, there was no basket, simply a plunger being thrown down onto the floor, accompanied with a roll of toilet paper.
Reid cried.
Oh God, it hurts! Why! I didn't do anything! I was being good! Oh, God!
He braced himself as another wave of pain shot through him; making his insides burn and tearing his lower extremities apart.