Spencer had gotten back to his small apartment quite late that night; it had been raining, but thankfully a friend had given the sixteen year old a ride.

When he walked into his apartment he fully intended to have dinner then have a shower.

'Maybe I'll watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch,' Spencer thought happily as he unloaded his things.

The young man made himself dinner and sat down to start watching a documentary . Before he even managed to have a shower however, he fell asleep on the couch. This was something that happened often, but tonight things would be different.

The first thing Spencer felt were rough hands in his hair pulling him off his couch. He woke up quickly, but as he smashed into his coffee table he didn't have much time to react before the man was on top of him.

"Hello Agent Reid, how old are you?" The man asked, pointing a knife at his chest.

Spencer held his hands out for the man to see, "why does that matter?" He replied calmly.

"How old are you?!"

"Sixteen!" Spencer flinched when the man screamed in his face, "I just turned sixteen..."

"Too young for the CIA..." The man pulled Spencer up, only to pull him out of the living room.

When they were out of the way of furniture the man punched Spencer in the face sending him to the ground. Spencer looked up at the man and guessed that he was probably in his late twenties to early thirties. The man went to kick him in the stomach, but Spencer shielded himself and pushed the man backwards. He got up as fast as he could and tried to go for his bag, which ironically was on the kitchen counter.

"No!" The man tackled Spencer to the ground before turning him over and punching him repeatedly in the face.

The young sixteen year old agent wasn't being given much opportunity to defend himself, but he tried. Spencer was clawing at the man's face, struggling to get away and trying to push the man off. However, the man was relentless, and was older and larger than him.

'If I can just get him off...' Spencer thought.

Finally the man's punches slowed down, and the man looked down at the teenagers bloodied face, "I'm sorry."

Before Spencer knew what was happening the man who had just apologized after beating him was pulling him up again, putting the knife he had been holding against his throat.

"Walk," the man growled.

Spencer followed instructions, 'as soon as this bastard pulls the knife away...'

The man brought him into the bathroom and it took Spencer a moment to register that the bathtub was full of water. It only took a split second for him to put two and two together and he started struggling despite the fact that the knife was still at his throat.

"Stop!" The man screamed as Spencer struggled.

His fist connected with his assailants face and the man went falling to the ground, hitting his head against the bathtub, hard enough to stun him, but not hard enough to knock him out.

Spencer took this opportunity to run from the bathroom, but he didn't get far. The man recovered quickly and ran after the teenager, using his training to get him back down to the ground. Spencer landed on his front and tried to crawl away and get out of the man's grasp. The man pulled out his knife again and shoved it deep into Spencer's back, just barely missing his kidney.

Spencer let out a scream of pain, and the man took the chance to pull the teenager up, dragging him back into the bathroom and throwing him down on the ground.

Spencer hit his head against the bathtub the same way the man had and the man laughed, "karma sucks, huh?"

The man grabbed Spencer's hair and growled in his ear "your director needs to learn about karma, and you're going to help me teach him."

That was the last thing Spencer heard before his head was pushed under the water. The man pulled him up once every minute to allow him a gulp of air, it was obvious to Spencer that this man was going to play with him before actually killing him.

After several minutes that felt like hours the man pulled Spencer out and let him fall onto his back, gasping for air and retching.

Spencer was still taking shallow breaths as he looked up at the man that had stood up, "please, don't-"

This seemed to make the man angry and he leaned down and grabbed Spencer by his throat, pulling him up and dragging him back into the living room.

There he threw Spencer against the closest wall and he smiled as the teenager let out another cry of pain as his wounded back hit the wall. He then started kicking Spencer in the stomach with as much force as he could.

"You-think-I-didn't-say-that!" The man screamed, "nobody stopped for me! Nobody listened when I begged them to stop! Nobody came to save me!"

He continued screaming as he continued to beat Spencer, alternating between kicking and climbing on top of him to punch him some more. By the time the man stopped Spencer's face was bloody; blood came from his nose and his mouth and he couldn't help crying.

"Please, stop- why are you doing this?" Spencer asked once the man stopped beating him long enough.

The man had been kicking him again, but at this question he climbed back on top of Spencer and said, "because nobody saved me, and nobody will save you!"

The man then wrapped his hands around Spencer's neck and started strangling him. It didn't take long for Spencer to start fading, but he didn't have any intent on dying that day.

'I'm not dying like this-'

Spencer managed to grab the man's knife and stab him in the shoulder, another ironic coincidence.

Spencer stood up and cried in pain at the stab wound that was still bleeding, and from his broken ribs because of the beating. He once again went towards the kitchen counter, but the man grabbed his ankle and pulled him down.

The man had gotten his knife after being stabbed in the shoulder and then started stabbing Spencer anywhere he could reach.

Spencer cried out as the man started stabbing him, and as much as he tried he couldn't escape the larger man's strength. Despite all his training, none of it seemed to be stronger than a knife or this man, who seemed to have a lot of training himself, and soon he lost track of how many times he got stabbed.

All Spencer could think about was that he had to hang on to his life as hard as he could, because he wasn't done living it.

After twenty six stabs the man finally stopped, but Spencer was laying in a pool of his own blood and was barely conscious. All he felt was pain as the man pulled over a chair from his dining table and picked him up, grabbing rope from his bag and tying him to it. Spencer tried to struggle, tried to pull his wrist and legs out of the rope, but he couldn't and he started begging.

"Please, please, let me go," he cried, but the man only sat in another chair in front of him.

"It's okay, you'll be okay," the man said in a sickly comforting voice, "it'll be over soon enough. This will make it quicker."

The man took his knife and put it into the crook of Spencer's elbow, right down to his wrist, slitting it.

Spencer cried out again in pain, "no! Please, stop- please, let me go..."

"Shh, I know how scared you are. Trust me, I know personally, but that's why I'm doing this. You're helping me teach a very important lesson. So that this doesn't happen in the future."

Spencer groaned and rolled his head back, finding it harder and harder to fight the urge to "sleep." He was soaked in his own blood; from his face, his neck, his chest, his abdomen, his legs and now his arm... he didn't think there was a single body part that wasn't covered in blood.

"Please- please-" Spencer repeated, it felt like ages, but then the man started looking at his watch.

"Why aren't you dead yet?" The man wondered aloud, not realizing that Spencer could hear him.

'Because I won't die like this.'

And then the idea occurred to him, he'd stop begging and hold his breath as still as he could.

After a few minutes of trying to remain as limp as possible the man untied him and laid him down on the ground.

Spencer felt the man's fingers against his neck and he held his breath until the man pulled his fingers away and said;

"Another mindless sacrifice... what a shame," the man touched Spencer's face and turned it to the side, "such a handsome boy too, would have made quite a lucky catch for someone... too bad."

The man got up and packed up his bag of supplies. Spencer laid there, trying to stay as still as possible and struggling to stay conscious.

Out of nowhere he heard a dial tone and then his directors voice, "hello?"

"You should have protected your young agent Director."

A moment later Spencer heard the door to his apartment click shut.

Spencer managed to crawl over to his kitchen and pull himself up high enough to grab his phone.

"9-11, what's your emergency?"

"Need-help-attacked-lost-blood-can't-hold-on-"

"Help is on the way sir, please stay with me," the dispatcher said, "sir? Sir?!"

Spencer had dropped his phone and finally passed out, waking days later in the hospital with multiple scars and a memory that would haunt his mind for years to come, and eventually come back to hurt him again.