Everything turned into one big blur. Doctors running around, blood, pain. Then everything faded into this weird whiteness. He woke up to that all too familiar sterile hospital smell. At least some of the pain was gone.

"Hello, Mr. Booker." Said an older man from the doorway. He had bright white hair and fair skin. He was maybe 5'7 and had on a white lab coat and scrubs. "I am Dr. Kendall. How are you feeling?"

He remembered Alex's warning.

"I'm fine. What happened?"

"You and your girlfriend were mugged, and you were shot."

"Oh."

"You're doing great. You should be able to go home today. Your leg is broken and you have a concussion, but you've already been here two days."

Two days? How was this possible? "Two days? Already?"

"Yes, but you can go home to your girlfriend today." Dr. Kendall repeated.

"Thank you, doctor." Reid said.

He had to leave a message. He had to let his team know where he had been. To his relief the doctor had left a pen and a blank form to fill out next to him.

Reid grabbed it.

Call Agent Hotchner. 508-431-9203. Tell him Dr. Spencer Reid has been here. I'm in danger. He wrote hurriedly. He put the pen down just as Alex entered the room. She was pushing a plain black wheel chair.

"Hey, baby. The doctors said you can come home now." She said, offering him, the wheel chair.

Reid struggled to pull himself out of the hospital bed and into the wheel chair, even with Alex's help. He immediately felt the gun press into the back of his neck. He stiffened slightly.

"Calm down." Alex whispered into his ear. Her breath was hot and smelled slightly like garlic. He didn't want to ever be touched by her, let alone smell her stinky breath. But either way, she was the one with the gun, and Spencer did as she said.

Two days. There had been no sign of him for two whole days. All she could do was pray that he was still alive. They had been over everything. Alex Booker had known Reid when he was in college, a teacher who remembered Reid said that they had been close friends until Reid was seventeen. Her DNA had been found in the round table room, she had definitely been a part in this. But she couldn't help thinking that this was still impossible, they had no idea where she was. That's when she got a phone call.

"SSA Jareau, how may I help you?" she answered stiffly.

"JJ, get down here we have news." Morgan said

She was greeted by the hopeful faces of her co-workers.

"He left us a message." Hotch said.

"Where?"

"In a hospital up in Massachusetts. He told the doctor he needed to call me and that he was in danger, the doctor didn't want to take any chances so he called." Hotch explained. "He was there under the name Jack Booker."

"What condition was he in?" she asked.

"His leg was broken in several places, he had a bad concussion, and was shot in the side. The doctors who sent him "home" had warned him not to move much and be careful."

Emily grimaced. "Somehow I doubt that's happening."

Emily was right about that. Alex had driven them to another house. It was old, and pretty much falling apart. The sign said SOLD and the price said 2,000$. Huh. No wonder. When we Alex rolled him up to the house, he could clearly see the cracks in the walls. The lock on the front door hung limply. There was glass littering the porch, which sagged beneath or weight.

It was surrounded by trees on three sides, and the driveway was so log you couldn't see the house from the street. His chances of escaping just kept getting worse and worse. The man was already in the house.

"Hello Dr. Reid." He said almost pleasantly. "It seems we have not been officially introduced. My name is Darrel Harper."

"It seems you already know me." Reid said, equally pleasantly. "May I ask what it is you want with me?"

"Revenge, Dr. Reid. Revenge.