The rain was really coming down outside. Spencer stood at the doors to the back patio of Remy's house the next morning, watching as the rain came down while he finished off his conversation with JJ. She'd called just to check in with him and to see if maybe he might like to come and meet up with her and Henry the next day if the weather let up. He realized that it had been a while since he'd spent some quality time with his Godson. So Spencer had agreed, dependent on the weather. He watched it rain now while he closed his phone and he wondered if it would let up tomorrow for them.

With a shake of his head, he turned and headed back toward the living room where he'd left Remy when the call had come in. He found his partner still in there, sitting on the couch. But something was different. It only took a second for Spencer to see something off in Remy's body language. The curled up way he was sitting, kind of drawn in to himself, with this slightly defensive posture to him. Something was wrong. "Remy?" Suddenly very nervous, Spencer stopped at the edge of the couch and clasped his hands together in front of him, his eyes locked on Remy. What was going on? "Is everything okay?"

"That was one of your teammates on the phone?"

Remy's voice was just a little bit flat. It only made Spencer's worry grow. "Yes. JJ. She wanted to see about getting together tomorrow so Henry and I can spend some time together if the sun is shining."

Nodding absently, Remy kept staring down at his lap, never lifting his eyes up toward Spencer. Another bad sign. Remy was big on eye contact. "And you had to go in the other room just to have that talk?"

"Remy…" Unsure, Spencer tugged at his fingers nervously. What was he missing here? Why did he feel like he was missing something right in front of him? "Are you upset with me for stepping away for privacy with a phone call?"

"Non." Now Remy looked up, eyes going to Spencer's. There was a hint of something on his face that tugged at Spencer's heart .Was that…hurt? "I'm upset cause you went in the other room like you was afraid I'd say something and blow your little secret outta the water."

Oh. Oh. Spencer fought back a grimace. He couldn't even fully deny what Remy said and that just made him feel worse. He had left the room for privacy, yes. But part of that need for privacy was because he hadn't wanted something to happen that would tell JJ there was someone else with him. Even though it hadn't been a conscious thought, it was still there, and that had the guilt building.

Hurt flashed over Remy's face and he turned his head away, looking toward the living room window. "I understood at first why you didn't say nothing about us, Spencer. And Derek and Penny both know. I've been trying to keep understanding, even when it bothers me."

"I'm sorry. I haven't been trying to hurt you with this." Far from it. So very far from it. He didn't want Remy to be hurt at all. He didn't want anyone to end up hurt.

"How's it not supposed to hurt?" The question was delivered with just a hint of a bite to it. He saw Remy lift his chin a little, though he kept his eyes on the living room window. "I introduced you to mon fils, and even though I put off you and Belle meeting, she at least knew about you. But your team doesn't even know I exist in your life. How's that not supposed to hurt?"

"I...it's not that simple…"

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"What?" Oh, God. Nausea churned in his stomach. "No! Of course I'm not!"

Remy licked his lips and looked back over at him. "Then are you just not serious about us? Are you not telling them cause you don't plan on staying with me?"

"No! That's not it at all, Remy. I'm more serious about you than I've ever been about anyone." This whole conversation was going so wrong. Spencer felt sick to his stomach and his nerves were eating him alive. There was hurt and temper both on Remy's face and Spencer hated that he was the cause of it. Hated that he'd been the one to put it there. "It's not as simple for me to tell them as it was for you to tell Belle. My team doesn't even know that I like both males and females. To tell them, it could create quite a bit of trouble at work. Not everyone reacts well to this and I have to work with these people day in and day out. I have to put my life in their hands. If they don't react well to this news…"

"So, what?" Slowly, Remy rose to his feet, his eyes staying locked on Spencer's face. "You're just planning on not telling them…ever?"

"Of course I'm going to tell them!"

"Well then why keep putting it off? What makes tomorrow any easier than today? You're the one with the degree in psychology and all that profiling training. What would you say your actions show? A commitment to our relationship or a lack of it?" Remy stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, his posture still screaming defensive. But his expression softened just the tiniest bit. "I aint asking you to go out and make an announcement to the whole world. Just, just one friend, Spencer. One of your amis. I need to know you're at least that committed to us."

"And if I ask you to wait?" Spencer asked slowly.

A shuttered look came over Remy's eyes. "Then I'd tell you not to bother coming back until you're finally ready to commit to us. I won't be your dirty little secret, Spencer. I deserve more than that."

Silence fell over the room. Spencer felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. He couldn't seem to say anything. Hell, he could barely even think! The idea of leaving Remy, of not seeing him, not having him in his life, was devastating. It was debilitating. Looking at him, he could easily see that Remy was serious. He was laying down this ultimatum. Either tell at least one friend, or they were done.

Spencer's phone rang in the silence of the room. At first, Spencer simply stood there, still staring at Remy. But he made himself break away to answer the phone call. It was too ingrained in him to answer his phone for work purposes. His eyes stayed on Remy's face as he lifted the phone. "Hello?" He listened for a moment, having to force himself to focus on the voice on the other end. "Yeah." He said. "I'm at Remy's. Okay…okay. All right. Bye." Ending the call, he lowered his hand, holding the phone tight. With a great effort on his part, he broke their stare. "There's a case. I, I need to go." He stayed still for a moment longer before turning and heading down to the bedroom where his go-bag was.

Five minutes later he was back in the living room. Only, Remy was nowhere in sight. A look around showed the door to the basement was cracked open; that would most likely be where he was. Downstairs was Remy's 'adult room' of the house. A locked liquor cabinet, a pool table, a flat screen TV, a stereo, all the things adults could need to have a good time. Spencer bit his lip, wondering if he should go down there. Then there was a sound outside followed by a honk and he knew Derek was here. The man had said he was already en route when he called. Spencer gave the door one last look. Trying to ignore the ache in his chest, he turned and headed out the front door, shutting it softly behind him. He walked straight to Derek's car and tossed his go-bag and messenger bag into the backset before climbing into the front seat. He moved on autopilot, his hands moving and buckling him in.

The car was already back out on the road before Derek spoke. His voice was low and just a hint hesitant. "Reid…are you okay?"

He had to swallow three times before he could speak past the tightness in his throat. "I'm fine." It was a standard response. Inside, he was anything but fine. 'Den I'd tell you not to bother coming back…' Those words echoed around inside of Spencer's head. He wanted to curl his arms around himself, draw his knees up to his chest. He just wanted to curl in on himself in defense against the pain those words brought. And it's all your own fault his brain taunted.

"Is everything okay with Remy?"

"It's fine." Spencer reiterated. "We just…it was just a fight, that's all. We're fine." He had to swallow a few more times to make that tightness go away again. …not bother coming back… "So, what do we know about the case? Where are we going?" He needed to think about anything else right now. Anything.

Derek seemed to understand that. He let this go, for now. "I don't know much; just that it's local…"

In the round table room, Spencer looked at the folders on the table in front of him, scanning the pictures as JJ briefed the team on what they had. "Two weeks ago, local PD contacted us for a consult on a string of missing young men. They had three bodies at the time and no new victims. Jared Nikkus, Thom Isakson, and Rolland Mike. All three men were found beaten, sexually assaulted, and then strangled to death."

"No DNA was found on any of the victims. The Unsub used protection." Dave commented.

"That's right. And any evidence the Unsub might've left behind was lost when he washed them, removing any traces of DNA that we might've been able to recover."

"He's covering his tracks." Emily mused. "He's smart. Smart enough to take forensic countermeasures."

"Yet not smart enough to discreetly dispose of the bodies." Derek added. He flipped through his folder, looking at the pictures of the dump site. "He had to make a statement there. He left them all by dumpsters, tossed there just like they were another piece of trash."

Aaron nodded at his words. "Once they're dead, they've fulfilled their purpose for him. The body that's left means nothing to him and he wants the world to know that."

Quickly Spencer's eyes scanned all the information in front of him. "It indicates here that all victims were kept alive for twenty four hours after their abduction. For one day, he keeps them to do with what he wants. That means he has to have a secure secondary location."

"Somewhere he can complete his fantasy." Dave said.

JJ lifted the remote in her hand and pressed a button and the picture of another man came up on the screen. This one looked to be in his twenties, with blond hair and blue eyes. "This is Joe Boston, twenty three years old, a college student. He was reported missing this morning, taken from his apartment just like the other three. He fits the physical description and the abductions are similar. LEO's think he's the next victim."

Spencer did a mental calculation. "This says they estimate he was taken around six thirty this morning. Judging by the timeline the Unsub's shown so far, we have twenty one hours and fifty two minutes left in which to find him."

"That's why we need to get right on this." Aaron looked around at his team. "Garcia, I need you to dig into their backgrounds, see if you can find anything that connects these four particular men. If their paths have crossed before, I want to know about it."

"Yes, Sir." She was up and moving, hurrying out of the room.

"Dave, take Reid and go to the morgue. See what you can learn from the bodies. Morgan, Prentiss, I want you to go to the newest abduction site. I'll head down to the police station and speak with the chief there. JJ, I'd like you to stay here with Garcia. Let's get to work, everyone. We've got just shy of twenty two hours to find Joe Boston alive."

Going to the morgue revealed nothing that they hadn't already learned from the autopsy report. When they finished there, Dave went to join Aaron at the station while Spencer went back to the BAU to try and see if there was enough data to build a geographical profile. If they could narrow down an area to look it would help them out. He set up in the round table room with his facts and maps and threw himself into his work, using it to distract himself as much as possible from the argument that was still preying on his mind. Every time he stopped to think about it, that sick feeling came back to his stomach. Right now he couldn't afford that. Right now he had to work this case and find this man alive.

He had his map taped up to a board and was staring at it when suddenly a hand touched his shoulder, startling him so badly that he actually jumped back a little. Wide eyed, he spun to find JJ standing there, her face a mask of surprise. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Spence. I thought you heard me come in!"

"Oh, ah." Spencer swallowed and tried to still his racing heart. "I was just…thinking. Running numbers in my head to try and get the geographical profile as accurate as I can make it."

JJ cocked her head as she looked at him. The look of surprise was replaced with one of concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I told you, I was just too lost in thought, that's all…"

"Spence." She cut him off with just the gentle use of his name. Taking a step forward, she laid a hand on his arm. She was one of the few people who he had always let touch him casually without pulling back. "Taking a five minute break won't hurt you. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

As much as he wanted to brush her off, he found he wanted to tell her, too. JJ had always been an important person in his life. Over the years she'd ended up becoming like a big sister to him. He'd always found himself able to talk to her. To go to her when things went wrong. The urge to do that now was almost overwhelming. A small shudder ran down Spencer's frame and his gaze dropped to his hands. "I, I've messed up something. Something important. And I…I hurt someone." He admitted in a quiet voice. "And I know how to fix it, I just…I guess I'm scared to. No matter which way I look, there's the potential for trouble in either direction. I just need to figure out which possibility scares me more. Which one I'd rather risk losing." That was the crux of it. He had to think of which he wanted to risk losing more—his friendships, if they took the news badly. Or Remy, if he didn't say anything.

JJ squeezed his arm lightly where her hand still rested. "I can't imagine you hurting someone intentionally, Spence."

"It wasn't intentional. But that doesn't take away from the hurt. It doesn't make it okay."

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right? If you need an ear, I'm always here for you, no matter what."

He gave her a little half smile with a bit of his usual shyness. But there was warmth there and the love he'd come to feel for his friend/sister. "Thank you."

"Anytime, Spence. We're friends. That's what friends do."

The geographical profile was done and hanging up on the board. A profile had been built and delivered to DC metro police. Now they were gathered at the police station, looking at the short list Penelope had put together of people who were connected to all of the victims and who fit the profile. The next step would be interviews; speaking with each person on that list to try and piece together what they could. There was a very distinct possibility that the Unsub could be someone on that list so they had to go about their questioning very carefully. There were five people on the list, so Aaron was dividing them up, pairing them each up with an officer.

Spencer looked over the list of names and was surprised to see that he recognized two of them. "Hotch. I know two of these men."

"What?" Aaron turned quickly towards him.

Lifting a hand, Spencer pointed at two names on the list. "Josiah McMillan and Zacharias Edgar. They both do guest lectures over at Georgetown. The last time I gave a guest lecture in the Nonlinear Ordinary Differential Equations class, I ran into both of them."

One of the local officers spoke up in a surprised voice from where the group was watching them and waiting for their assignments. "Nonlinear Ordinary Differential Equations?"

"Yes. It's actually a rather fascinating course…" Before Spencer could even get started, Aaron cut him off. "Reid, focus."

"Right. Sorry, Sir." Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to what was important. "Because of my connection, I obviously can't speak with either, on the off chance that they do end up being our Unsub. However, I can recommend who to send, Sir. Josiah is a cultured individual and he considers money one of the most important factors in life. He doesn't understand how I haven't capitalized on my intelligence and made a name for myself. He'd respect someone like you, Rossi, for your money and for the name you've made for yourself with your books. He'll size you up the minute you come in and most likely dismiss anyone with you. But you, he'll speak to, because he'll consider you equals."

"So play up the money and his ego." Dave said with a smirk. "Easy enough to do."

"Zacharias guest lectures in the Linguistics department, most often for Italian, though he's fluent in three languages. He's a shy individual and easily intimidated but he relaxes dramatically when speaking in a language he loves such as Italian or Japanese."

"That would be me." Emily spoke up. "My Japanese is rusty but my Italian is still fairly up to par."

Aaron nodded his approval at these choices. "That leaves Ryan, Peters and Rupert. Morgan, I want you to take Peters. Reid, Rupert. I'll take Ryan. Remember, everyone, be as careful as you can about this. The last thing we want is to spook them and risk having them take out our victim before we get the chance to save him. If the Unsub feels threatened, he will cut his losses."

"Sir." One of the officers raised a hand, drawing everyone's attention to him. "You guys said that he spends twenty four hours with his victim. What's to stay that they'll even be home? Won't they be with the victim?"

"We know that the Unsub has to have a place where he takes them to hold them for these twenty four hours. We believe that it's most likely somewhere on his property." Morgan said. "He'll want to be close to home, where he feels safe, and yet have the privacy to do what he wants. So while he most likely will be with the victim, that means that he'll also be home when we come knocking."

"So be careful and let's get going." Aaron finished.

Everyone split off from the group, pairing up with a local officer. Spencer ended up with an Officer Evans, a younger officer that he had a feeling was paired with him by the chief simply because they looked close in age. There was no way the officer was even thirty yet. Spencer knew better than to judge someone by their age, though. How many times had someone looked at how young he was and assumed that he didn't know what he was doing? It was frustrating and he wasn't going to do that to Evans. However, he did warn him on the way over "I need you to allow me to lead when we arrive, officer. We have to go about this very delicately. If there's a chance that he's our Unsub and Joe Boston is somewhere on the property, the last thing we want is to spook him. One thing you and I both have on our side is that we both look younger than we really are. That's going to come in handy."

"Seriously?" The word popped out and Spencer could see that Evans hadn't meant it to. The young officer flushed just the slightest bit.

Spencer smiled because he understood that sentiment. "Looking young isn't always a deterrent. I've learned that you can take what others see as a shortcoming and learn to use it to your advantage. We both look young, yes. I look more like a professor than an FBI agent and you carry the look of a rookie, though I know you're not, as no rookie would've been sent out here with me. When Rupert looks at us, that's what he's going to see. He won't perceive us as a threat, which means that, if we play that up, he may end up revealing far more than he would to someone like, say, Morgan or Hotch."

Evans slanted a look towards him that carried just a hint of amusement to it. "I imagine plenty of people underestimate you because of your age. Looks like that's their mistake."

"Yes." Spencer said with a smile. "Yes it is."

He settled back in his seat, focusing on the information Penelope had dug up on Rupert. In his head he built a strategy for questioning the man and tried to prepare himself. Unfortunately, that only took about five minutes. Beyond that, he wasn't really planning anymore. He was using that information to keep his brain distracted from drifting back toward Remy. If he wasn't careful, their fight would start replaying over and over in his head again. He knew he was obsessing over it. He couldn't help himself! This was the first real, serious fight they'd been in. And there was a lot at stake, here. I can't let it affect my work, though. I do that at the wrong time and the repercussion could be serious. I need to section off that part of my life while on the job so it doesn't end up costing me far, far too much. How does everyone else do it? How do JJ or Hotch keep from letting their personal life interfere in their work life? He was having such a hard time doing it. For the rest of the ride, Spencer forced himself to separate those two parts. But once this case was done, he needed to fix this and fast.

It only took five minutes of being inside Rupert Newcomb's house to see that Spencer had been right in his prediction in the car. Rupert very obviously looked at the young agent and officer and judged them by their age and appearance and dismissed them as any kind of threat. He allowed the two into his house and in his living room. They both stayed standing when it was obvious Rupert wasn't going to sit. Rupert was of a like size with Aaron; Spencer estimated him to be maybe an inch taller than Aaron and probably about the same weight, give or take five pounds. His brown hair was cut short and stylish, made to spike here and there. Sharp blue/green eyes watched them with just a touch of amusement. Though the rest of his body language stayed calm, controlled, it was those eyes that the experienced profiler made sure to watch. They would give him away.

Spencer took him through the basic spiel, explaining who they were and that they were there to ask him about a few young men he'd had encounters with. According to Penelope's information, Rupert was thirty one years old, worked at a local grocery store as a cashier, was single with no children, was an only child to divorced parents, had graduated high school but failed out of college, and had been raised in a strict catholic household.

Rupert looked at the pictures Spencer handed him, skimming casually through them. "Yeah, I seen em. They came in to the store sometimes. Came through my line a few times." He closed the folder and held it out toward Spencer. "That's 'bout all I knew 'bout em. They weren't exactly the chatty type at the register, ya know? Just paid and left."

"Did they usually come in alone, or was there ever anyone with them?" Reaching out, Spencer took the folder and held it in casually front of him.

Shrugging, Rupert hooked his hands in his pockets. "Sometimes. Some of them fancy, college friends of theirs. They'd come through talking and laughing and making a nuisance of themselves." A slight sneer curled his lip before it smoothed away and there was a flash of anger in his eyes. "Like I said, they didn't talk to me much. Boys like them, with their fancy educations, they don't talk to guys like me."

Alarm bells went off in Spencer's mind. His attention sharpened while his outside stayed calm and just a bit meek. "I bet that made you angry, them treating you that way." He probed carefully.

This time it was easier to see the anger tightening around Rupert's eyes. He had a harder time smoothing that away. But then it was replaced with a look that Spencer could only deem satisfied. "Doesn't really matter." Rupert said with a shrug.

Spencer's phone buzzed and he pulled it out, seeing Derek's name on it. Morgan, you have got to have the best timing he thought to himself. He'd just been trying to figure out a way to discreetly excuse himself to make a call. Holding up the phone, he gave Rupert a shy smile. "I'm sorry, it's my coworker. Why don't you tell Officer Evans here about some of the friends you saw these men with, if you can recall? I'll be right back." And Spencer pressed the button to answer the call as he made his way toward the front door. "Reid."

"Hey, Reid. My guy checked out already and Prentiss and Rossi are back at the station. Rossi's checking in with Hotch. How're things going with you?"

Wow, they'd gone through their suspects fast, hadn't they? Then again, his and Evans' had been the furthest from the station, almost twenty minutes. This was a secluded bit of property with the house and a barn in the backyard. Spencer chewed on his lip as he opened the door and stepped outside, letting it slip shut behind him. He tried to think of how to word this. There was a very good chance that he would still be able to be heard if he stood here on the porch, so he moved down the porch and toward the car, hoping it would look casual if Rupert looked out the window. "So all of you are back at the station, then?"

"All except Hotch. Is everything okay?" The last part was asked just a bit sharply. Derek hadn't failed to notice that Spencer hadn't answered his original question.

"I'm not quite sure." He cast a look over his shoulder.

Derek didn't waste any time. "Are you in danger?"

"Not yet, I believe. I'm not absolutely positive. There are signs, though."

"Hang tight, Reid. Do not do anything yet, we're on our way. Keep him calm until backup arrives."

A wry grin tugged at Spencer's lips. "I'd kind of already figured that one out on my own, Morgan, but thanks."

"Smart ass."

Anything more that might've been said was cut off by the sound of two quick gunshots from inside the house. Spencer swore and spun, drawing his weapon and dropping the phone. He didn't hear Derek shouting out his name. Every inch of him locked down in and he switched over fully to Agent Reid. He moved quickly and carefully, taking one final deep breath before going back in the door. He was only two steps in when he heard another door towards the back of the house. That was about the same time that he saw Evans on the ground, bleeding. Son of a bitch. Hurrying over, he squatted down beside him, automatically reaching to find a pulse. He didn't have to. As soon as he dropped to one knee, Evans opened his eyes. "Go." He croaked out. "Go. He's panicking and he'll go kill the kid. Go."

Spencer yanked off his sweater and put it over the wound on Evans' stomach. Then he grabbed his hands and put them over. "Put pressure right there. Backup's on their way." That was all he had time for. Raising his weapon, Spencer rose to his feet and hurried toward the backdoor. He flung it open in just enough time to see Rupert darting toward the door to a barn at the back of the property. Spencer took aim and fired once, twice. There was a shout and then Rupert was in the door and Spencer was running. His heart was pounding as he hurried forward. This had to be one of the single most stupid things he'd ever done, chasing after an armed Unsub on his own, with one officer already down and no vest. But if he didn't hurry, Joe Boston could die, and Spencer knew he couldn't let that happen.

The door to the barn was still wide open. Spencer gripped his gun tighter for a second and gathered what courage he had and he moved slowly and carefully into the semi-darkened barn. He was barely five steps in when Rupert stepped out of a stall at the other end, holding a body in front of him as a human shield. One look told Spencer that it was Joe Boston. His stomach clenched at the sight of the beaten and bruised naked man. Both his wrists and ankles were tied together with rope and he stumbled slightly when Rupert pulled him out. Spencer adjusted his aim, trying to find a clear shot and not finding one. "Rupert, you don't have to do this. Let him go."

"I know I aint gotta." Rupert sneered at him. "But I wanna. Now, unless you want me to blow his brains out." He pulled his gun around, letting Spencer see it as he pressed it against Joe's head, pushing over his hair and making the young man tremble. "I suggest you drop your weapon, Doc. You got till three. One…Two…"

Mentally cursing, Spencer turned his hands, holding the one out empty while moving with the other one toward the ground. "Okay!" he cut in before Rupert could say 'three'.

"You're no better than they are." The fury on Rupert's face wasn't hidden anymore. It was right out there in the open. He was glaring furiously at Spencer as the young agent straightened back up. "You think I didn't see it? Fuck. You walked in so damn sure of yourself, calling yourself doctor like you're some special shit or something."

"Is that why you hate them so much?" Spencer asked him. He took a tiny, hesitant step forward. "Because They're in college, gaining an education, while you barely managed to finish high school?"

"You shut up!" The gun pressed a little harder against Joe's head and the poor man made a whimpering sound. "You don't know nothing, you hear me! You don't know nothing!"

For one instant, Spencer locked eyes with Joe. What he saw gave him just a small bit of hope. While Joe was terrified, he was not broken. There was fire in his eyes that clearly said he hadn't given up yet. He was still willing to fight for his life. It told him that, if the gun wasn't against his head, Joe would fight. So Spencer did the only thing he could think of. He tried to get the gun off of Joe. The only way he could think of to do that was to get it pointed at him. Strengthening his resolve, he looked back at Rupert and put on his most disdainful look. "Anything." He said the word slowly and clearly. "You mean to say I don't know anything. And I know plenty, Rupert. Far more than you think I do. I know you've always been last in your class. Always the slow one, the one that people laughed at." As he spoke, Spencer kept inching forward, getting himself closer and closer. "I know you tried college, hoping to use it to get out from under your Daddy's thumb, but you couldn't manage to make it. Just like I know that all of this isn't about intelligence. You didn't rape and kill these men just because they were smarter than you."

Rupert's hand shook and his face was slowly turning red. "You don't know shit!"

"But I do, Rupert. This isn't about their intelligence at all, is it? That may have caught your attention, but it's just a smokescreen. You're not hurting them because they're smart. You're hurting them because they're everything that you're not. They're what you wanted to be, what you should've been. What your Daddy tried to make you be. You beat and rape them as punishment for their success, not because you actually want them. You punish them the way your father punished you."

"Shut up!"

Finally, Rupert turned the gun toward him and Spencer gave Joe one last look, hoping he would get the hint and drop away. The other man reacted far more than Spencer had thought. He'd hoped Joe would understand and would drop out of the way now that he was free of the gun. Instead, the young man snapped his head back, slamming it right into Rupert's face. Rupert cursed and threw him against a stall, bringing a hand up to his now bleeding nose. Spencer wasted no more time. He was closer to Rupert now than he was to his gun; he did the only thing he could do. He leapt at him. The two hit the ground and the gun went skittering away. Spencer pushed off of him and lunged for it, knowing it was his best bet. He wasn't the best in a physical fight. But Rupert grabbed him and he went to the dirt, coughing from the force of impact.

Survival instincts kicked in and adrenaline coursed inside of Spencer. He kicked out, trying to get free, scooting further and further along the dirt. His hand was so close! Then a hand fisted in his shirt and yanked him back and Spencer suddenly found himself slammed into the ground, pinned by Rupert's body. A hand fisted in his hair and slammed his head down onto the ground, twice, stunning him enough that he couldn't see, couldn't move.

"You son of a bitch." Rupert swore at him. A fist connected with Spencer's stomach and he gasped for air, only to have his breath stolen again by another fist. "You little son of a bitch. You think you're so smart? I'll show you! I'll show you!"

Another punch and then hands grabbed at his shirt, ripping it open wide. It only took a split second for Spencer to realize what was going to happen and for his body to start to react. He bucked up, fighting past the pain and dizziness to strike out with his hands. He got a solid blow in to Rupert's face before his wrists were grabbed and pinned to the ground above his head. Rupert's weight settled over him and Spencer fought to buck up again, his mind screaming, begging for backup to get here. For anyone to get here. But no one was there to help him. He was on his own and this man was running a hand over his stomach, his chest, then down to unhook his belt and Spencer thought he was going to be sick.

He jerked his legs, trying to move them beyond Rupert's pinning weight. The man just laughed down in his face. "Fight, little bitch. Fucking fight. I'll win. I always do! Not such hot shit now, are ya?"

Spencer glared up at him and did the only thing he could think of—he gathered up all the moisture in his mouth and spat straight up into his face. The instant of shock that created was enough. He yanked his hands free and brought them down, one hand already balled up in a fist. The blow to the head knocked Rupert off of him, but only for a second. Spencer was barely even up before he was slammed into again. This time Rupert dug a knee into his stomach to hold him down and Spencer couldn't restrain the hoarse cry he let out. He put all his strength into rolling his body, rolling them just enough to the side that he could get the leverage to yank his knee up and slam it right between Rupert's legs. Rupert dropped down to the ground with a cry and Spencer moved faster than ever, diving over to the gun and grabbing it off the ground. In a flash he spun and pointed it at Rupert, pushing to his feet as he did. "Don't move!" he shouted out hoarsely.

Keeping the gun trained on Rupert, Spencer moved over to retrieve his own gun. He saw that Joe had managed to move, scooting over to where Spencer's gun was. He'd been trying to help. Spencer stood between him and Rupert now, panting slightly, but he kept his eyes trained on Rupert. Then he heard footsteps right by the barn door followed by the sweetest sound. "FBI!"

The barn filled with agents and Spencer could've wept with relief. Emily, Aaron, and local officers moved right to Rupert while Derek and Dave came over with more officers to where Spencer and Joe were. Someone shouted by the door for medics.

Derek rushed right to him. Spencer stepped back and waved him off, looking to the ground. "Get him first, please. Get him help. He needs a medic, bad."

"They're coming, kid." Derek said gently. It looked like he wanted to still come to Spencer, but he knew his job. He knelt down by Joe and started to work on the rope on his wrists while Dave did the one at his feet.

Aaron came hurrying over toward them, his eyes locked right on Spencer. Rupert was being escorted in handcuffs out of the barn by two other officers. "Reid." Aaron stopped in front of him, eyes scanning him. Spencer knew he probably looked a sight. His tie was over one shoulder, his shirt ripped straight open down the front, his pants were hanging slightly on one hip and his belt was undone. He was covered in dirt and some blood that was either his or Rupert's—he thought it was Rupert's, from the blow to the nose and the hits Spencer had gotten in—and his stomach was already bruising while his head felt like it had been smashed with a hammer in the back. He wondered if he'd hit a rock or something when Rupert had hit his head to the ground. Aaron took all of these things in with one sweep of his eyes before looking at Spencer's face again. "We need to get you to a medic."

"I'm fine." The response was an automatic one. Yet his body almost instantly started to wobble a bit in direct contradiction to his words. Aaron quickly reached out and steadied him. It was a good thing, too, because the world was starting to spin just a little bit. Spencer had to close his eyes and trust himself over to Aaron's hands, otherwise the spinning might've made him sick. Another set of hands came on his other side. These were smaller; Emily. "Can you walk?" She asked him. He managed to nod at them before forcing out a "Yeah." With help. Together, with the help of his friends, Spencer made his way out of the barn and towards the house.