Guest: I appreciate the criticism. If you're still reading this, you'll see that it was really only a diversion… can't really say much more without giving away the chapter though. Thanks to all the reviewers. I've included some Reid/Morgan whump for ya'll too. Thanks to Violet Eternity and kateryne1!

Thanks for bearing with my lack of updating last week. I've got my meds back so we're good to roll. While we're closing at the end of this story (potentially, I won't spoil it), I'm going to be posting another as soon as it's done with Reid and Morgan whump, so don't fear!

"Without pain, how will we know joy?" - John Green

Morgan groaned as he awoke and looked at Reid. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Don't know," Reid responded as he laid against the door, holding his ribs. Morgan sighed, "What happened?"

"Think my ribs are broken…"

"Of course," Morgan muttered. "Where are Prentiss and Garcia?"

"Garcia isn't here." Good, Morgan thought, so she'd gotten away. "Prentiss?"

"Don't know." Morgan sighed and looked at the blank wall while he gathered his thoughts. Reid spoke up again, "Do you think that they are …"

"They're what, Reid?"

"I don't know." Reid shrugged, wincing again as he shifted his arm to another spot. "They're playing catch and release, I think."

"Catch and release?" Morgan asked, eyebrow raised as he studied Reid's face, wincing when he recognized the bruise. Reid slouched into a different position, as if the pain was getting to him.

"Yeah. Like, I think they called Hotch up here because they were going to be like: OK. We've got these guys good and compliant. We're just going to make this case go cold."

"Except that Hotch didn't buy their bullshit and they knew it," Morgan theorized.

"Right," Reid nodded as he winced. Morgan sighed. Reid rolled his eyes, "It's not that bad to be honest."

"Right," Morgan said, a frown on his lips. "The lawyer's an asshole."

"You only just now figured that out?" Reid asked, smirking. Morgan shot him a look and rolled his eyes. "I know. We need to get out of here, we need to find out where Prentiss is and we need to get her out of here too."

"Yeah, I know. And the others," Morgan added. He leaned back and shook his head. "I'm not sure what our best option is."

With that the door opened, and Sleazebag Lawyer stepped in. "I can offer you one," he said.

Morgan and Reid exchanged looks. This wasn't going to be good.

Garcia groaned as she slipped off her sneakers and held them in her hands. She couldn't run with them on. Technically, they weren't even her sneakers; one of the kids at the compound had given them to her. She was grateful for them but wanted them off.

She spotted a payphone and immediately leapt towards it, grateful some of the kids had given her instructions on how to use it. She immediately dialed Hotch collect, not caring if it came out of her personal tab.

"Agent Hotchner, FBI-"

"Hotch, it's Garcia. Plug this phone into the router and trace the call no. I escaped but Morgan and Prentiss and Reid are back at the compound and-"

"OK, we'll be right there. You're actually only about twenty from us. Stay on the phone," Hotch ordered. "You're going to be okay, alright? Do you have any injuries?"

"No. I think they're playing catch and release or something. I don't know. But Prentiss was shot."

A car pulled up to her and she flinched before realizing Hotch was in it. "Hotch, thank god," she said as she opened the door and leapt in.

"We're going to the safe house. We've partnered with the only person I trust in Amsterdam right now. What do you remember about the location?"

"I didn't get that far," Garcia said, "But I jumped out of a truck…"

Hotch nodded. "It's ok. We'll find him," he said, more to reassure himself than Garcia. "We'll find them."

"I'll make you a deal," Sleezebag Lawyer said as he came up to Reid and grabbed his arm. Reid didn't flinch and Morgan almost winced at that. How had he and Reid gotten so used to this treatment that it didn't even phase them anymore? Had three years of being forced to escort against their will really changed them that much?

Maybe it had.

"What's the deal?" Reid asked wearily. He didn't back away from the man and Morgan knew they'd both had more than their share of beatings because of him. Reid had reason to be worried. If he could leap in and protect Reid, he would, but -

Sleezebag cut off his train of thoughts. "I'll make you a deal. I'm fucking tired of the brothel. It's made me enough money and I'm fucking done with it. So, I want to quit working here. But I also want a few playthings of my own. So I was thinking, if the two of you agreed to become playthings, I'd make a call to your team and let everyone else go, including Prentiss."

Reid and Morgan didn't even have to look at each other before both said yes. He'd just as likely make them playthings anyway and this way they had a shot at freeing people.

"Good. I'll have to knock you out. Don't worry. It won't be for long before we're at our forever home." He smiled at the two of them and then moved to Reid. "Do you remember Agent Hotchner's number?"

Reid stared at him in disbelief; it had been three years since he'd last talked to Hotch. He had no idea if the man even kept the same number. "I… I don't know," he admitted as he looked at Morgan.

"I bet you could find it in the telephone directory," Morgan spoke up.

Sleezebag turned around to him and grabbed him by his chin. "Look, I didn't ask you! I asked Reid!"

"It's probably in the whitepages," Morgan said. He was trying to draw the attention away from Reid. "It's probably under the name Hotchner."

"I don't have access to the local white pages in Amsterdam." Morgan winced, knowing that the man was just trying to find an excuse to punish them for some stupid offense.

"Well, that's perfectly understandable," Reid said as he frantically wracked his brain for the number. For once his photographic memory failed him. He almost wanted to tell the man to ask Prentiss but he didn't want to draw any attention towards her.

The man turned his attention back towards him and Reid jutted out his chin, shooting Morgan a look. Morgan instantly understood. Whatever happened, they'd share the pain. "I… I think it's -"

"I didn't ask what you thought the number was!" The man snapped, grabbing Reid by the corner of his face and flinging him against the wall painfully. "I asked you what the number W.A.S. W, A, S!" he snapped.

Reid winced.

Morgan sighed, the number finally filtering back through his memory. "It's eight-seven-"

The man turned to him and let Reid collapse to the floor. "I didn't ask you!" the man snarled, grabbing Morgan by his arm and twisting it painfully. "I could snap you arm, right now," he hissed, lowering his voice to make Morgan's stomach churn.

"Go for it," Derek muttered. He knew that the sleezebag was the opposite of Michael. Michael would punish Derek for talking under his breath while the lawyer would just laugh it off. Or at least that was his usual approach.

The lawyer smirked. "Nah, I wouldn't want you to have it too easy."

Reid spoke up then. "I have the number if you want it," he said. Both knew the number wasn't what the man wanted. The man wanted a reason to punish them. Reid had a morbid thought that if this was a story, this was where an author could choose to add tension by creating this sort of character. Feeling mildly disturbed, he shoved the bile back down and turned towards the man.

"Nah," The man said, "I'll just get it from Prentiss."

"No," Morgan said as he stood up. It was difficult to do while in the man's headgrip. "I refuse."

"I didn't know you got an opinion?" Sleezebag asked. Morgan winced as the man wrapped his arm tighter around Morgan's neck.

"I'm giving myself one," Morgan said. "Look, make me a deal?" he asked.

"No, Morgan," Reid said, standing up, knowing instantly what his friend would offer.

Sleezebag turned to face Reid and grabbed him by his hair, flinging him back against the wall as if he was just a pincushion. "Don't-"

The man smiled, knowing he had Morgan in his clutches. "If you have some fun with me, I'll leave Prentiss alone and let her live. How's that sound?"

Reid grimaced, knowing the lawyer would make it an 'offer' Morgan couldn't refuse. It was almost easier, he reflected, being forced into sex, rather than blackmailed to agree to it.

"Whatever suits your fancy," Morgan muttered and shot a look at Reid, encouraging him to stay down.

"We'll have some when we get to the new house, unless Reid wants to object?" the man asked.

"Um-"

"Right now you both need sleeping pills," the man said as he withdrew a needle from his packet. Two pricks, and both Morgan and Reid were unconscious.

Hotch had just gotten to the safe house with Garcia when his phone rang for what felt like a thousandth time that day. "Is this Agent Hotchner?" A shrill voice asked.

"It is," Hotch said wearily as he took a gulp of his much-needed caffeinated beverage. "What can I do to help you?" He had a gut feeling that his was their unsub.

"I'm going to show you a sign of good faith. I'm tired of working in this industry, and I want out. I'm releasing all of the workers and Emily Prentiss to you. They'll be at a hotel at-" he rattled off the Amsterdam address. "The hotel isn't actually a hotel anymore. We bought it to house them should something like this ever come up. Now, I'm giving you this location because I'm turning in my men. My fucking brother went too far."

Hotchner raised his eyebrows. "Too far?" he questioned.

The man nodded. "Yes. Too far. He raped and killed a small child. The body's in the backyard. I may be a bastard, but I won't stand for that. I don't want to be prosecuted because of my bastard brother. I'm taking Agent Morgan and Reid with me. I'll let them tell you they're safe when we get someplace safe for me. Now, my brother doesn't know you're getting this info so be prepared for a hailstorm." With that, he hung up.

A/N: Remember to cast your whump votes!