A/N: Heh, it looks like this story keeps rolling free of my will, sooo… Here comes the (sobs once) second last chapter!
BUT, first of all… Thank you from the bottom of my heart for those reviews! They certainly boost my inspiration, you know? (beams, and hugs) So THANK YOU!

Oh, and before I forget! About the voting. (Don't think that'd slipped my mind completely!) Thank you so much for voting! Not everyone can win, but I hope the conclusion I pulled together pleases you. (glances hopeful)

Awkay… Especially considering the cliffie I left you on, I think it's high time to go on. (gulps) I hope you'll have a nice ride!

/ The clouds are rollin´ in
Who will watch them?
The waves are strong
The boat is gone
I hope they´re swimming /

Little boy lost in the woods
Where´s the clearing?
The town is out
They´re calling loud
But he´s not hearing

It seems to me I´m always miles away
Looking for my old face

Save me from myself
I can´t relate
We´re mouth to mouth
And still I suffocate
There´s nothing left
Inside for me to break
Save me from myself

(Vertical Horizon: "Save Me From Myself")

CHAPTER 3: The Beginning in the End

Hotch was well aware that he was breaking every single speed limit as his car sped through the city, so close to slipping out of his control that in some other situation it might've scared him. He also knew perfectly that he didn't care, at all. Just this once.

His eyes were even sharper than usual as they darted briefly towards Morgan, who was hissing cusses through tightly grit teeth while throwing away his cell phone. "Still no answer?"

Morgan shook his head while focusing firmly on the road.

A deep line appeared to Hotch's forehead, giving him at least five years more of age. "How many times have you tried?"

"Five", was Morgan's curt response. And Reid always answered his phone if he could. Always.

Barely noticing the action Hotch kicked the gas pedal even harder, sending the car speeding madly. Neither spoke as the seemingly endless journey continued.

After a small eternity and three more missed phone calls Hotch finally parked the car outside Reid's house, his actions so rough that the vehicle screamed in protest. Giving each other identical dark looks they emerged from the car and started to walk towards the building with swift steps.

From the hallway they found two female neighbors talking. One of them was a about sixty-year-old woman who would've appeared comical in some other situation with her badly out of whack hair and wide eyes. "… then I heard all those bangs. What in the world are those two doing in there, anyway?" The neighbor wrinkled her nose before leaning towards the other woman, as though confiding. "And it wasn't the first time, either. I wonder if there was a fight…?"

The other neighbor, a very posh woman of about the same age, clicked her tongue. "I know! This house used to be so calm. I wonder if we should call the police?"

Before Hotch could stop him Morgan marched a couple of steps forth, eyes gaining a flame the team leader knew all too well. "Which floor?"

The first neighbor frowned, folding her arms. She was clearly used to picking up fights. "Why do you want to know?"

Hotch showed the women his badge. "It may be one of our own up there. So which floor?"

Both women blanched. In a few moments the second one first squeezed her lips to a thin line, then spoke. "Third."

As the two of them dashed forward Hotch could faintly hear the ladies talking. "About time someone does something about this. It's been going on too long…"

Perhaps he was letting this all get to him. But at those words Hotch felt very unpleasant, hot tingling inside his veins.

Morgan's head barely functioned as he sped over a stair after another, his mind storming forth a million miles per hour.

It was definitely one of the most infuriating and frightening things he'd ever faced, to run so desperately when he didn't have the slightest clue if they were already too late. If they'd wasted too much time.

And then – so fast that his head couldn't quite keep up – they were stood behind the correct door. Neither was surprised to discover that it was firmly locked.

"Let me take care of that", Morgan half-barked. This, at least, was something he knew how to deal with.

He worked on the lock for a few moments before the door gave a click of surrender and slid open. Hotch gave him a strange look but didn't say anything. As they entered the apartment neither noticed that they had hands on their guns. What they found inside made Morgan's blood turn ice cold.

The apartment was a mess. Several items, including books and furniture, had been thrown all over the place like during a struggle. And on one wall and the floor below it there were blood stains.

Morgan felt the beating of his heart turn far too abrupt as he took in the sight. "Fuck…", was absolutely all he managed to produce.

And that was when they heard the sound of someone falling down.

In a flash they were moving towards the bathroom, which turned out to be the one untouched room in the apartment – and saw Reid lay on the floor. Although it sickened them they couldn't help noticing that there was some blood staining the brunet's pants. Reid's eyes were closed, several nasty bruises much too visible against his deathly pale skin. The young man wasn't moving at all. And on the floor beside him lay a half-empty bottle of sleeping pills.

Panic struck all the way through Morgan like a bolt of lightning. And then he was moving once more. He hurt his knees with how heavily he fell to the brunet's side. "Reid?" There was no response whatsoever, and Morgan felt like a rope had been wrapped around his neck. It took a lot of him to be able to croak out. "Hey, Pretty Boy, can you hear me? Spencer!"

How many fucking pills had Reid taken? How long ago? Was he…?

Morgan swallowed thickly, staring at the far too lifeless body of one of their strange family's members. He discovered that his heart was beating madly, much too fast, as he reached out a slightly trembling hand to Reid's neck. He wanted to cry out, perhaps even did.

The beat was still there. Reid's breathing didn't sound right but at the moment all that mattered was that it was there. The life was there, hanging on stubbornly.

"He's alive." Was that… his voice? Even he could barely hear it. "He's alive, Hotch. But… I don't know how bad his condition is." He was no doctor. How the hell was he supposed to know?

Reid would've known every medical fact in a heartbeat.

Not saying a thing Hotch took his cell phone and dialed numbers. Morgan couldn't focus on a word as the older man's tight, delicately controlled voice told the operator to send an ambulance and inform the police.

They were at a crime scene, after all. The thought sickened Morgan enough to bring a bitter taste into his mouth.

He found himself squeezing Reid's wrist tightly, desperately. Like the faint, racing pulsation under his fingers had been the soul thing convincing the younger man was still there.

One… Two… Three… Four… So fast he had trouble counting, especially in his current state of mind.

"Morgan." In some other situation the look on Hotch's face might've startled or worried him. "The police and ambulance just arrived, I have to go and see them here. Stay with Reid."

Morgan nodded sharply. He had no intention of leaving now. Reid had been alone long enough.

Hotch might've said something more before leaving with slow, reluctant steps, but Morgan heard none of it. All his focus was on Reid, on the pulse.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six…

The nightmare wouldn't end.

Most people would've been terrified by the look that lingered in Hotch's eyes as he walked out of the building. What he found was two police-officers.

And Lucas Reichton stood between them.

It was a surprise, really, that his steps were unwavering as he walked towards the monster who'd made Reid's life a living hell for who knows how long.

The man's eyes narrowed at him. "Are you seriously going to do this to me – send me behind bars? None of you cared before!"

Hotch grit teeth, so hard it hurt. "You'll never lay a hand on Reid again. I'll make sure you'll never even see him again. This is over now."

There was a long silence as they measured up one another. "I loved him, you know? I still do." There was a look in Lucas' eyes he just couldn't read. "And I know he loves me, too. Love's strange that way. There's nothing you FBI-people can do about that."

Hotch's hand twitched so badly it hurt, and the boiling inside his body was almost enough to drive him insane. He knew, with far too much certainty, that his famous self-control wouldn't hold much longer, not with those eyes looking back at him.

Hotch's fist balled – but fortunately that was the furthest he got.

One of the officers – a large, white man with Morgan's body type – pulled Lucas so hard the man almost fell down. "Okay, wiseguy." The man didn't bother even trying to hide his emotions. "Let's go."

Hotch watched in some sort of a numbed state as two officers dragged Lucas away. Once more the man glanced towards the windows behind which he and Reid had lived not too long ago, his expression unreadable. And then the man was pushed into a police car and he disappeared, like he'd never even been there.

It wasn't until then Hotch realized that this was all actually happening. That Lucas, the son of a bitch, had done this. The Reid was in the bathroom with Morgan. That Reid could…

To most Hotch was a man who never showed emotions. But at the moment even he couldn't hold back.

With a deep, shuddering breath he buried his face into one hand and slid down to the stony steps that led into the building. He remained that way for exactly eight seconds before his face tightened and he straightened his form, then followed the two medics with a stony expression as they dashed into the house.

There were days when Dr. Prue Thompson really hated her job. That night, in which she'd been destined to be on call, turned out to be one of them.

Because as she barged through the ER to meet a badly beaten young male-patient who'd afterwards OD'd on sleeping pills she saw Reid.

"What the hell happened?" slipped through her lips before she could control herself.

A young male-nurse who was in the process of examining Reid gave her a dark look. "Domestic violence. The bastard's been taken to custody. He left us with this." Figuring that she probably wasn't in the condition to say a thing the nurse went on. "Lots of bruises, a couple of cracked ribs. No major internal damage, but he'll definitely be sore as hell when he wakes up. The pills he's taken are the biggest problem. His oxygen saturation is 94 right now, but it's improving. His body is trying to fight, hard."

She nodded, fighting to keep her expression under control and failing. "Then we help him." She inhaled through her nose while starting to type on her laptop. "You know how this goes. Have his stomach pumped, then put him on IV. His saturation is still low so give him oxygen and monitor his breathing carefully. As soon as he's stable enough send him upstairs. Tell them to keep monitoring him."

"Dr. Thompson." Another nurse – a very young woman with a shock colored Mohawk who'd also been treating Reid – spoke all of a sudden. There was a look of shock and disgust in the woman's green eyes as they stared at the young man's lower parts.

At the moment Dr. Thompson would've given almost anything if she'd been allowed to scream curses. Although it was the last thing she wanted to do she walked up to see what the nurse had discovered from Reid's most private parts. The damage she found made her want to throw up. This was definitely one of the worst cases she'd ever seen – there was still a hint of bleeding.

That fucking son of a bitch…!

It took a long time before she was able to speak. "Get a rape kit", she ordered in a hiss.

"Doctor." A female nurse she'd never seen before was stood a few steps away with a somewhat tentative look on her face. "Dr. Reid… His team's here, asking for him."

Yes. Some days Dr. Thompson really hated her job – like today. She took a deep breath but it didn't help any. "I'll come and talk to them."

Considering that the whole group – their entire family – was gathered to the hospital's waiting room it was eerily quiet. The only sounds came from their breathing and Morgan's pacing.

JJ and Garcia shared a long bench, and were currently staring straight ahead with suspiciously moist eyes. Prentiss, on the other hand, was sitting on a bench of her own, glaring daggers at the wall. Hotch and Rossi were staring out the window with unseeing eyes, arms folded, while Morgan paced like a caged tiger. Some other day it might've amused them how utterly lost they looked.

They were supposed to be profilers, experts on the tricks of a human mind. But still they'd let this happen to one of their own – they'd failed to see what was right before their noses. They'd failed Reid.

"He'll be okay." It'd been such a long time from when one of them had last spoken that Garcia's nearly whispering voice made them shiver. Her eyes were wide and moist behind her glasses as she looked around, searching for reassurance. "He'll make it through this, right? I mean… This is Reid we're dealing with."

Words failed the group. Unable to do anything else JJ took Garcia's hand into hers and squeezed faintly. With her other hand she wiped her cheeks.

A tremor ran through the room as they saw Dr. Thompson entering. The doctor appeared tired and solemn, but she was able to look directly at them. That tiny gesture gave them enough hope to help them stand up.

"How is he?" Morgan was the first one to demand.

Dr. Thompson breathed in deeply. "He's… been through a lot. It'll take time before his body recovers, but he should be fine physically. As for the psychological part…" She swallowed, hard. "I was forced to send him to the psychiatric ward."

That hit them, hard. "What?" Prentiss managed.

Morgan's eyes flashed. "You can't…!"

"I'm aware of his background", Dr. Thompson interrupted him, her voice firm. "But whether it was conscious or not, Spencer did almost kill himself. Plus he has a huge emotional load to work on. He needs help."

Once again silence fell into the room as the team absorbed the information.

In the end JJ broke the silence. "Can we see him?"

Dr. Thompson's eyes softened a little. "As soon as he's stable enough. But only one visitor at a time – I don't want you to cause him even more stress than he's in already." Just then her pager started to beep loudly. She gave it a look before focusing on them. "I have to go. But I'll send someone to tell you when it's okay to visit him." With a look that clearly said 'Hang in there' the doctor left.

Once again it was quiet – too quiet. This time Hotch broke it. "You should all go home and get some rest."

Prentiss immediately shook her head, her eyes flashing. "We're not going anywhere."

Hotch's jaw tightened with effort to control what was swirling inside his head. "We have that new case to work on. So rest, and prepare for that."

A look of disbelief rose to Morgan's face. "Are you seriously expecting us to start working on a case now?"

"Yes." It was a surprise that his voice was relatively steady. "Because it's the pretty much only thing we can do something about now." He went on after catching his breath. "One of us can stay here while the rest of us go to Baltimore and keep us posted on Reid's condition. I'll stay with here for tonight."

The team didn't like it, especially with how painfully close to home the newest case hit, but they were forced to admit that he was right. There wasn't anything they could do for Reid anymore, was there, they mused bitterly.

"I'll stay", Morgan announced sharply after a while. The look in the man's eyes left nothing to be questioned.

They didn't have anything to object that, especially when they had a feeling that Morgan wouldn't have stayed away anyway. And perhaps it was good that Reid had someone who understood, at least a little bit, around him.

In a moment the others left after making Hotch swear Hotch would keep them posted on Reid's condition.

Turning around Hotch frowned when seeing that JJ was still there.

"I… I can't go home yet", she explained, her voice breaking slightly. She took a deep, brave breath. "It's my fault that things got this far, okay? If I'd reacted, back then…" She swallowed thickly. "So… I'm not going home."

Hotch understood, better than well. And so he headed towards the door. "I'll go and get us some coffee."

Two hours later a nurse finally came in, telling JJ and Hotch that they could go and see Reid. Out of silent agreement JJ took the first shift, although she wasn't entirely sure if she was ready to face this all just yet.

Once entering Reid's room she found her will faltering. Yet again her eyes stung, hellishly.

Reid had always been pale, but never as much as he was that night. Every single bruise seemed to glow on his skin, causing a twinge inside her. He looked unbelievably small, fragile and young in the ridiculously big hospital bed, hooked on a IV and heart-monitor. What startled JJ the most, however, was how utterly motionless the brunet was. Reid was never still.

For the longest time JJ didn't know what to do, how to proceed. But in the end she took a deep breath, then walked up to the bed a slumped to the chair someone had been considerate enough to leave there. Without noticing it she grabbed Reid's hand and squeezed, careful not to disturb the IV attached to the milky skin.

"I… I know I messed up", she whispered, wondering if he could even her at all. She sobbed dryly, once, twice. "But… I'm here now, Spence. I'm right here. You're not alone."

Reid didn't give any response. The stinging in JJ's eyes intensified.

Time wandered on as she sat there, guarding his drug-induced sleep and fighting with her all to control the storm blowing inside her.

She didn't let go of his hand for even a second, not anymore.

Almost two more hours slipped by until Hotch entered Reid's room to find JJ still sitting by the younger man's bedside, holding the genius' hand in a tight, protective hold. Her eyes were tired, red and puffy, but she appeared determined.

Hotch made his presence known with closing the door and stood absolutely still for a fleeting second. It was a long time from when he'd last felt as helpless and furious with himself as he did when turning and looking at his youngest team member. Even in his sleep Reid was frowning, as though in pain or discomfort. "How is he doing?" he inquired somewhat gruffly.

JJ's shoulders slumped, and she seemed to come close to biting her lip. Miraculously enough she managed to keep her expression even. "He's… knocked out most of the time. He woke up a couple of times and got really restless, so they gave him some sedatives to make sure he won't hurt himself. They had to be careful, though."

Hotch nodded, not coming up with anything to say that would've made any difference. He then breathed, managing to regain some focus. "JJ, go home." He went on before she could protest. "Henry needs you, and the team has a new case to work on. Besides, you need rest. So go home. I'll call if something happens."

For a while JJ appeared reluctant until she nodded slowly. Once more she looked towards Reid, searching for something Hotch had no idea of. Based on her expression she never found it. She left the room without daring to look back.

As soon as he was alone Hotch strayed to his gloomy thoughts.

He'd had a chance to talk to Dr. Thompson earlier. According to her Reid's injuries suggested that he'd suffered from the abuse for a long time. There were old injuries that were clearly the result of violence, like a broken arm (Hotch remembered a "I'll manage. It's not broken or anything" from a year ago) and a broken leg ("That was the first and last time I tried ice-skating" from a winter two years ago echoed in Hotch's head). "Fractures like those don't happen in mere accidents", Dr. Thompson had pointed out. In additition to the worst, Reid had been punched, kicked and strangled, to the point where his windpipe had almost been damaged. The doctor had said quite bluntly that Reid was very, very lucky to be alive.

How long had Reid been tortured – months, years? What the hell had that asshole said and done to him? And how were they ever going to fix the damage?

Hotch wasn't entirely sure how long he stood there, lingering in his thoughts, until a barely audible whimper cut his thoughts. Looking to side he discovered that Reid was close to waking up. The younger man's face carried the unmistakable expression of terror as he fought something no one else could see.

Quickly making up his mind he took a couple of steps closer to the bed. "Reid." Another whimper was the only response he got. "Reid, wake up. Open your eyes."

Rapidly, so unexpectedly that it almost startled him, Reid's eyes flew wide open. They were filled with haze and terror, and Hotch was sure that for the longest time the young genius didn't see him there.

Hotch tried his best to keep his voice calm and controlled, but several undertones slipped in before he could stop them. "He's not going to hurt you anymore, ever again." He contemplated bringing a hand to the brunet's shoulder – just to make sure that the younger man actually heard him – but then decided against it. His mere prensence was already enough to make Reid's muscles so stiff that the man was trembling a little. He couldn't even imagine what an actual touch would do. "You're safe now."

Very slowly Reid turned his head, just enough to be looking at him. "Thanks", the youngest member of his team whispered breathlessly. But once again those eyes – so very poor at hiding anything – spoke the truth.

Reid didn't believe him, at all. And Hotch had a sinking feeling that it'd take a long time before the genius would believe in anything or anyone.

Several minutes passed in silence, and Hotch thought Reid had finally fallen asleep until the younger man's hoarse voice spoke. "The others…" The brunet licked his lips and ran a badly trembling hand through his hair, not looking his way. "Do they… know?"

Hotch felt a painful tug in his chest. Tonight Reid had already been stripped of all his dignity. This was all too much. "Some of it. And they're guessing most of the rest", he replied quietly, watching as a million emotions crossed Reid's eyes in a matter of seconds. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second before continuing. "Reid… I'm sorry, that we let things get this far. That we didn't see…" He didn't find it from him to say the rest, and he didn't think Reid would've been ready to hear it being said out loud.

Appearing surprised, Reid finally looked towards him properly. It was heartbreaking to see all the emotions on the man's battered, bruised face. The brunet's mouth opened, but in the end the words refused to come. Perhaps they weren't even needed.

They were both too exhausted and emotionally drained to continue the conversation, so they lapsed into a silence. Both stared at the window without really seeing, their vacant stares observing as raindrops crawled across the glass.

The nex time Reid woke up to the pleasant scent of coffee. For a moment he managed to fool himself into thinking he was home until the truth caught up with him, fast and brutally.

He groaned while bringing a hand to his eyes. Somewhere in the distance a very irritating beeping sound intensified, clearly alerted by his activities.

"Hey." In a flash Reid recognized Morgan's voice. It was a struggle, but eventually he managed to coax his eyes halfway open. The look on Morgan's face seemed out of place. "'Bout time you wake up. You've been sleeping for half a day." Reid didn't like the worry and something else that lingered in those eyes as they examined him. "Are you okay?"

Reid tried his very hardest to smile at least a little bit, to assure them both that everything was going to work out. He wasn't sure if the look on his face was closer to a grimace. He licked his lips and rubbed his face with one hand, wincing as the IV he was stuck on protested against the motion. "What… time is it?" Like that would've mattered at all.

Morgan appeared surprised for a second, then shrugged. "Around four in the afternoon." The man then came to think of something, clearly eager to have something to work on. "I can sweet talk the nurses to give you books, food or something."

Reid shook his head rapidly and brought one hand gently to his stomach, which was squirming uncomfortably at the mere thought of food. At the moment he didn't think he'd ever be able to digest anything solid. "No thanks", he muttered.

With a sideways glance Reid saw Morgan's hand approach him, and free of his will all his muscles grew stiff. He was beyond grateful that the other man obviously noticed his discomfort and the hand landed to the bedside, a safe distance from him.

For a tiny, bitter moment Reid wondered if he'd ever be comfortable with anyone touching him again.

"Reid." Morgan's voice was so solemn that it claimed all his attention. The man's expression was softer than he'd expected. "I know you've got a lot on your mind right now. And trust me, it's much easier if you don't try to deal with it all alone."

Reid grit his teeth. And for a long time it wasn't Morgan he saw before him. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"I know you're not ready yet, kid." Morgan's eyes were serious and sincere, which surprised him to silence. "But, when you are… So am I."

For quite a while Reid didn't know what to say, how to react. But in the end he nodded, relaxing slightly in the bed.

"You can sleep, you now?" Morgan's voice startled him a little, as though he'd forgotten the man was there. The dark-skinned man showed him a sports magazine. "I've got this to keep me company for a while. So you get some rest."

Reid shook his head, resisted the urge to look away. "Nah, I… I think I've had enough sleep for a while." Truthfully, he didn't think he'd be able to take another nightmare, another glimpse of… "I'll just lay down." Like he'd had much choice.

Morgan shrugged, appearing uncharacteristically uncertain for a moment. "Okay."

Out of mutual unspoken agreement they both took more comfortable positions. For a while Reid observed as the older man read, clearly too distracted by other thoughts to actually focus on the magazine. Every now and then those dark eyes flickered his way, as though to make sure that he was really there. Then, with a tiny sigh that didn't really have any meaning, Reid turned his gaze towards the window. He blinked twice.

Outside the sun was shining.

TBC, for an epilogue.

A/N: How's that for a hint of hope?

(Heh, perhaps I'm a hopeless sap, but this chapter got me a bit emotional. No tears or anything, but still.) (grins sheepishly)

Soooo… Now that we've only got the epilogue to go… Thoughts? Opinions? PLEASE, do leave a note - it's more rewarding than you could ever imagine to hear your thoughts!

Awkay, because it's getting pretty late I have to head towards bed. (pouts)

Until the epilogue, folks! I REALLY hope I'll see ya all there.

Take care!