Disclaimer: I will never be rich enough to afford this show nor do I make a profit off of my story.

Enjoy!

The only thing that Reid could focus on was the velvety thick black night. He turned his head away from John and tried to block out the harsh words that were being whispered in his ear. He couldn't help but let a stray tear streak down his cheek when the man told him he would spend the rest of his life on this island.

Reid didn't want to believe those daunting words, but they gave voice to his worst fears. John was right. No one would be able to find him out here. The team could search the bayou for years and still never venture into John's section of the swamp. The genius knew that his survival was in his own hands but every time he came up with a plan it was always thwarted. He was running out of ideas and he was running out of hope. With those thoughts in mind, Reid had to bite back a sob as he tried to contain all of his despair from bursting forth out of his body.

"You're going to spend the rest of your life as my bitch," still echoed in Reid's ears as he waited for John to dish out his vicious punishment. What did that entail? He had heard those words before when Garcia was being playful, but he doubted John was using the same connotation. It scared him because he didn't want to feel any more pain, he didn't want to be forced to do more back breaking chores, and he certainly didn't want to tell John stories anymore.

Reid felt a large hand grip his chin and force his head to turn. He was looking his captor right in the eyes as John took his thumb and wiped away the tear on his cheek. "Come on now, no crying. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it," John taunted as he wrapped his hand around Reid's neck and pulled him into a standing position.

"Let's go. I want to show you something," the large man demanded as he steered Reid into the shadow enshrouded backyard.

Familiar with the layout of the property, Reid noticed that John was directing him toward the woodpile. They stopped next to the tree stump that had an axe embedded in it. John picked up the axe effortlessly and twirled it in his callused hands.

"I know you can't see well out here in the dark and all, but get a good look at this," John exulted as he shoved one of the sharp parts of the axe head in Reid's face. "You see all that dirt…it's not dirt, but the blood of the girls that came before you. This is how I got rid of them and how I'll get rid of you too. I chopped off their heads in one quick swing, and then I dismembered their bodies. The next day I spread their parts around the swamp and let nature take its course. It's kinda funny how some of the alligators I've caught have been the ones that snacked on those girls. But hey, that's what brought you here so I guess it worked out for well for me in the end. Now get down on your knees," John ordered.

Reid just stood there with his thoughts running a mile a minute. This was it! John was going to kill him. His stupid attempt at escape had pissed John off so much that now he was just going to end it. The team was going to find him, or parts of him, in the belly of an alligator. Who was going to break it to his mother? How would they tell her? "Mrs. Reid, I'm sorry to tell you that pieces of your son have been found in an alligator."

All of a sudden his legs buckled and dropped him to the ground. John had swung his leg up and pushed both of his hinge joints forward unlocking his knees causing the fall. Reid felt his knees sink into the soft muddy ground as he realized that he was about to take his last few breaths.

"Please don't do this. I promise I won't try anything else. Please give me another chance," Reid begged his captor, desperate to buy himself a few more days of precious life.

"I told you that you would be wishing for last night's punishment. Stop your sniveling and act like man," John grumbled as he pushed Reid forward onto the stump with his foot. He pinned the genius in place with his foot and rested the axe on top of his shoulder.

Underneath the heel of his killer, Reid gripped the stump with his hands. He turned his face and placed his left cheek flush against the wood. He felt John move his hair off of his neck and splay it out behind his head so his target was unobstructed. Knowing that his pleas and struggles would be ignored, Reid decided to look out at the tranquil dark water that was lapping against the shore of the island as he waited for the life ending blow.

Morgan sat in his hotel room and looked out at the darkened sky. They had worked all day on trying to find Reid and the unsub. By the end of the night they still had nothing new and no conclusive evidence that the two cases were really connected. The radio was playing softly in the background while the muscular agent contemplated what might be happening to his best friend.

Was Reid out there alone and scared? Had the unsub hurt him in any way? Was he receiving the same treatment as the women before him? He knew his friend was strong. But would Reid be able to withstand being kidnapped again? Hell, would the team be able to get through this again?

Tomorrow the team was hoping to get the map from the local fisherman and start exploring the bayou. They were going to rent out a few boats and guides to help them search every nook and cranny of the swamp. Morgan was determined that no space would be left unturned. Every cabin, shack, or rotted out hut would be inspected. He was sure that the culprit resided in the twists and turns of the swamp. How else would it be so easy to take his victims without suspicion, keep them captive, and dispose of them so conveniently to the creatures of the deep?

A knock sounded on Morgan's door and for a minute he contemplated ignoring it. The knock came again but with a bit more force behind it this time. Morgan groaned as he got up and looked through the peephole. It was a distraught looking JJ. He opened the door to her red eyed puffy complexion.

"I can't sleep. All I can think about his Reid and what's happening to him. I was hoping…," JJ trailed off as she started to unload her problems on Morgan.

"You were hoping that I was awake too. Yeah, come on in and make yourself comfortable," Morgan said as he moved out of the way to allow her to enter.

JJ cleared her throat and asked, "How are you holding up?"

"Not much better than you. I didn't even bother trying to sleep. So…what's up?" Morgan said trying to shift the conversation away from himself.

"Do you think he's still alive?" she came out and asked the one question that's been on her mind.

"Well, we haven't found anything that would suggest otherwise. Until we do, I'm not going to give up on him."

"Derek, I don't know if I can do this again. This thing is already going on longer than the last time he went missing and I barely held it together then. I feel so useless. I should be doing something but instead I'm at a hotel crying my eyes out. I'll never forgive myself if we find…if we find bits and pieces of him in an alligator," JJ agonized to the listening agent.

"JJ this isn't like last time. You've gotta remember that. This is a completely new scenario with very different variables. We know that he keeps his victims alive for at least a month. We have time to find him. Tomorrow we are all going to be out there looking for him. We will bring him home. I promise you that!" Morgan explained to the distressed woman.

"But will he be in once piece. Some of the body parts of the victims we found showed signs of torture, restraint and even sexual assault. How can we make sure we get back the same genius that we lost…again?" JJ questioned.

"We can't be sure what shape he'll be in. But JJ, you know that we'll all be there to help him along his road to recovery. I guarantee that it will not be a repeat of the last time. And, you've gotta remember that Reid is stronger now too. I bet you any money he already has an escape plot. Heck, maybe he already has gotten away and is trying to make his way to a phone to alert us. We have to stay positive and not give up until we have unequivocal evidence that says he's….dea…gone," Morgan said stumbling over the last word.

"You're right. Thank you. I really needed to hear someone else's perspective, especially someone who has gone through this before too," JJ said as she got up to exit the room.

"No, sit. Stay awhile," Morgan encouraged as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out some little bottles of liquor and poured them both a drink. "Here's to Reid. May he one day find a cure to being such a trouble magnet."

Their glasses clinked together in a toast and they proceeded to talk about their favorite Reid moments long into the night.

Reid heard the thud of the axe hit the wood and wondered when the pain was going to hit him. Nothing. He felt nothing but a breeze gently caressing his forearms. He released his death grip on the stump and tried to turn his head. When he finally got his head to rotate and face in the other direction he saw the axe. It was centimeters away from his nose and underneath the blade were bits of his hair that were shorn off.

"Ha, you should see the look on your face, boy. It's priceless," John laughed at Reid.

"What? I don't understand. I thought you were…," Reid dropped off.

"That was the point. I needed you to realize that I am serious. The next time I won't miss that pretty neck. But I would probably have to remove that collar to get a better target. Didn't think about that, did ya?" John asked.

Reid simply shook his head and made to sit up. John pushed him back down with his foot before the agent could get fully erect.

"Now who told you to get up? Stay put. I'm not through with you. And if you so much as move a muscle when I'm gone I won't hesitate to take that pretty head of yours off that neck," John threatened as he walked over to the tool shed.

Knowing that he didn't have any viable escape options and not wanting to add more pain to his punishment Reid did as he was instructed and stayed glued to the stump. He could hear rustling coming from the shed, like John was looking for something specific. The man came out of moments later holding a handheld tool.

"This is a battery powered soldering iron. I bought it awhile back when I thought I was going to learn how to decorate pieces of wood and leather. I never got around to it though, so this thing is brand spanking new! I wouldn't mind getting some practice…you up for it? Ah, who am I kidding? I don't care if you're up for it or not," John said with a bit of laughter in his voice.

He turned on the soldering iron and stood over Reid. The realization of what was to come flowed through Reid's body and sent him into uncontrolled shivers.

Reid watched as John swung his booted foot backwards and brought it forth to make contact with his ribs. The man must have been wearing steel-toed boots because he swore it hurt more than a simple kick should have.

"Flip over boy. I wanna see your stomach," John ordered with another kick to his captive's ribs.

Groaning, Reid allowed the next kick's momentum to flip him over onto his back. Only his head was supported by the stump now and he tucked his hands around his chest. John straddled his hips and started to pull up Reid's shirt. Panicking, Reid started bucking his hips to get the older man off of him. His mind was running wild with possibilities of what John was going to do, and none of them were appealing.

He stopped his resisting when the sting of a punch numbed the right side of his face. He was going to have a black eye for sure if not a cracked cheekbone from the force behind that punch.

"Sit still or I'll burn designs where the sun don't shine," John warned as he pushed Reid's shirt up to his chest. "Hmmm…now what should I write?" he mused as he brought down the soldering iron onto Reid's pale stomach.

The soldering iron was unforgiving as it branded the genius's skin instantly. No matter how hard he tried to keep his cries of anguish from escaping, Reid could not contain them. The scream that issued forth from Reid's lips would have woken Rip Van Winkle from his twenty year sleep. The distressed agent continued to shriek the whole time his body was being scarred. By the end he was gasping for breath and whimpering tiny wails of pain.

As soon as the torture was finished John stood up and looked down at his handiwork. The word "slave" was etched just below the young man's bellybutton. The skin's reaction to the soldering iron was not surprising. There were multiple blisters forming, blackened cracked skin where the letters were, and bright red burn marks encircling the finished product. Nerve damage was unavoidable, scaring was inevitable and without proper care infection was inescapable.

All Reid could do was stay on the ground and wallow in his agony. He desperately wanted to pull his shirt down and cover the burn but he knew it would irritate the already aggravated wound. He didn't even realize that he was only taking his breath through his teeth and hissing in pain as he rocked his body from side to side. He started moaning about how much it burned hoping that John would give him something to cool down his scorching midsection.

Tired of hearing all the sniveling coming from his slave, John scooped Reid up in his arms bridal style. Usually Reid would be struggling to get out of the man's grip, but he was hoping that John was taking him inside to dress his wound before it became infected. Throughout the trip Reid kept his eyes closed trying to focus his thoughts away from the pain. He could hear John's feet tramping on a wooden floor and pealed his eyes open to see where they were. Confusion took over when he realized they were still outside.

Suddenly the arms that were holding him fell away and Reid plunged into the icy water of the swamp for the second time that night. The effort to get back to the surface this time was compounded by the searing pain, and at one point he thought he was going to run out of breath. Finally, his head broke the water and he yelled out, "Help!"

John leaned down from his perch on the dock and said, "I thought you said it was burning. A good swim should cool it down and stop the blisters from forming."

"Please! Help me out," Reid keened.

"Alright, alright. Don't let me hear you complain about the pain after this. I was just trying to help and you act like it's killing you," John responded reaching for the miserable genius who was trying to stay above water.

Grabbing Reid by the neck once again John hauled him out of the water and let him sputter on the dock. The kid looked like a drowned rat laying there in shock.

"Get up. It's time for bed. We've got alot of work to do tomorrow," he ordered the young man.

"I can't," Reid mumbled ashamed that the pain was so great he couldn't get up onto his own two legs.

"Really? Is it that you can't or you won't? You know what boy, I am done trying to be reasonable with you. If you can't get up on your own than you're just going to have to spend the night out here," John said as he walked off leaving Reid alone on the rickety dock.

Afraid of having to spend the night in the thick black bayou Reid frantically tried to get on his feet. Unfortunately, the pain really was too much to handle and he didn't get any further than bending his knees. He was focusing so hard on trying to get up off the dock that when the booted feet thudded down on the wood again he let out a little squeal of surprise.

Reid heard the rattling of chains and propped his body up on his elbows to see what was going on. John had fetched another length of chain with manacles on each end and brought it back out to the dock. He attached one to Reid's right ankle, looped the chain around one of the posts below the surface of the dock and attached the other end to his left ankle.

"Need to make sure you don't try to make off with my boat again," John said as a way of explanation. "All right, good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the alligators bite," he called with a bit of mirth as he walked away toward the cabin.

Terror flowed through Reid's veins as he realized that once again he was trapped outdoors, and at the mercy of any creature that could smell his festering wounds.