A/N- Hey-o! It's me again! :) Here comes Chapter 9 for you all so enjoy!

~MBL

9 HOURS SINCE MISSING

Pain.

Lots of it.

That's all Holly could feel.

Was she dead?

If she was dead, then dying was really painful. Like 'being run over with a semi trailer several times' painful.

Isn't there supposed to be a white light after you die? And you feel nothing? That's not what Holly was feeling. All she could see was black, and there was not an inch of her body that was not in pain.

After a few prolonged minutes that which felt like hours, or even days, Holly finally realized that she was in fact alive. After another minute, Holly finally managed to successfully will her eyes open, the harsh light immediately causing her to shut her eyes once more.

After preparing herself for the harsh yellow light coming from the dangling light bulb in her room, she managed to open her eyes and keep them open, allowing them to adjust and focus on the room around her, sharpening her blurry and dull vision.

The first thing her eyes fully registered, was the blurry figure of Charlie Price sitting on the foot of her bed, leaning over her.

"And the protégé awakens!" he greeted, a sick smile taking hold of his features as soon as he realized his prisoner was awake again.

"Fuck off," Holly mumbled, slurring her words, slightly unable to form a coherent sentence.

Charlie clicked his tongue in a condescending manner, like when a mother is telling her child off. "I'm trying to help you here. It's better that you're awake."

"You… help… me? Yeah right." Holly panted, earning her a slap across her now swollen and red face.

"Don't you dare talk back to me!" shouted the built man, losing his composure for a split second. As soon at it appeared, it was gone, leaving another sinister smile in its place. "Now, I'm going to bandage your ribs. They sustained quite a bit of damage."

"I wonder why," Holly muttered, as Charlie went to lift up her torso. It was then Holly realized just how bad her injuries were. With a loud cry of pain, Charlie lifted up her torso to wrap it in bandages.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" cried Holly, tears threatening to spill down her face.

"Just broke a few ribs, I think. Nothing major." he shrugged, continuing the task of wrapping up the broken bones.

"Nothing major? You punched me in the stomach and chest hard enough that you've broken not one, but 'a few ribs'? That is far from nothing major!" Holly tried to yell, but the pain in her chest was increasing, and she could only manage a loud whisper.

"Be thankful it wasn't you I shot!" retorted the captor, pointing towards the two bullet holes that were embedded in the floor. Holly looked down at them, and for a split second, she showed just how scared she really was. Charlie, noticing her micro-expression, laughed at her.

"So you're not the Big, Bad FBI Agent you've made yourself out to be?"

Holly refused to respond, not giving Charlie the satisfaction.

"Aw, come on sweetheart, you always wanted to prove to everyone that your were a badass. It was hot." Replied Charlie, finishing with a wink that made Holly internally shiver.

"How long was I out for?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

"You passed out from the pain about two hours ago," was the response.

"And what's the time?" asked the blond, desperate to keep him talking to prolong what she knew he had in store for her.

"Hoping your team will get to you before you get hurt?" Charlie chuckled. "What's the point? They already think you're dead. But to answer your question, it's three in the morning."

Holly sighed. She had only been a part of the Bureau for just over twelve hours, and she was already kidnapped by a known rapist, had god knows how many ribs broken and had no means of getting out anytime soon.

Fortunately, Charlie forgot his earlier task and turned to the still full tray of food. "You haven't eaten." It was more of a statement than a question.

"I've been unconscious," bit back Holly. "Can't eat."

"Aw, come on now," he turned to her, mock concern written across his face. "You've got to eat! Keep up your strength."

"I'd rather die of malnutrition than get fed by you." Holly spat.

Calmly, Charlie reached over to the tray, grabbed the small dinner roll then, before Holly could protest, shoved it in her mouth. Holly started choking and spluttering, desperate to get the piece of food out of her mouth. As hungry as she was, she wasn't sure what he could have possibly done to the food; the list was endless.

He clasped a hand over her mouth and nose, so she had no choice but to swallow the food, much to her dismay.

After a few moments of choking and trying to get the food down properly, Holly had finally finished the roll. She was still spluttering and coughing, trying desperately to open up her airways once more.

Charlie just spent those few minutes staring at her with a crooked smile that would've been sexy fifteen years ago, but was now just scary.

"What?" Holly managed to say in between coughs.

"You're a profiler?" Charlie questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"You're a shitty stalker if you didn't know that." Holly retorted, earning a vice grip on her bicep from Charlie. "Yes," Holly whispered, letting out a loud hiss of pain, not only from her arm, but from her ribs too.

"Well then," Charlie began, releasing his grip on Holly and dramatically stretching out his arms beside him. "Profile me."

"Excuse me?"

"If the FBI wanted you here, rather than in Australia, then you must have been damn good at your job. So profile me."

"The only reason I went to Australia and joined the AFP is because of you in the first place!" Holly replied, still keeping her voice as low as she could while sounding intimidating.

"So I made you into the badass agent everybody's come to love?"

"It wasn't you, it was what I had become that made me join the Academy. Don't flatter yourself."

Charlie leaned into Holly so that they were nose to nose. Holly felt his hot breath on her face and closed her eyes. "Profile me."

"Alright. You're a sadist," Holly began. "You get off on the torture of others, most of the torture is physical and sexual, but you also enjoy seeing psychological pain from your victims. You're a narcissist. You always have to be in control, and everything always has to be about you. You are probably in a high profile job, but it allows you to work short shifts, so you have time to kidnap and spend time with your victims. You're overly confident, you work out a lot, and you're proud of your appearance. You have a flashy car, maybe a Monaro or a Corvette. You're obsessive, and you've been attacking surrogates to replace someone whom you have lost – well, someone who's run away from you – but you don't get people who look exactly like her. You find five points of similarity; hair, eyes, freckles, location and age. The age and location have to be exact, but as for the other points, as long as there is another point of similarity, it doesn't matter to you. That tells me you were trying to send a message to me, because you always made a point about my blond hair, my green eyes, my freckles, the fact that I was ten years younger than you, and that I was a small town girl near Pittsburgh. You also don't hide yourself when you have your victims, so you've done research on rapes and statistics, and you know that people seldom report rapes, and of those two hundred and fifty-seven girls you raped, only seven reported it, yet they were too scared to give a description, so you showed your dominance and utterly terrified each and every single one of your victims."

"Every one?" Charlie questioned, causing Holly to gulp.

"But what I can't figure out," Holly continued, ignoring Charlie's question. "Is how you managed to rape two hundred and fifty-seven women who all have something in common with me over fifteen years. How did you manage to get that many girls?"

"Most of them were prostitutes and addicts," shrugged Charlie. "Some I would only keep for a night or two, just to get them and instill fear into them, then the next day I would go hunting again. You're pretty spot on; I am the Head Photographer at one of the local magazines, they're pretty small, but the pay for each photo is amazing! But you're wrong about one thing – I have a Camaro, not a Corvette."

Holly was absolutely disgusted at the fact that this man was relentless at getting back at her, just picking people up off the street and raping them only to find someone else the next day.

"No wonder you took the job at the BAU. It really accommodates your talents."

"I did not take the job at the BAU!" Holly snapped. "You threatened to kill my entire team if I didn't take the job offer! I have no idea how you knew where I was, or how I got the offer, but you did. You sent me a letter with a bouquet of white roses and pictures of each of my team members. You said if I didn't transfer back to America, you'd 'take care' of them all! Then, you had a lock of Jayce's hair in that envelope, and I know that it was his because I had a friend from forensics confirm it! You've been following me for the past fifteen years!"

"You're quite the easy target. For someone who's been looking over their shoulder all this time, I can't believe you didn't see me! I was always there! And let me just say, those red streaks in your hair while you were in the Academy really made your eyes pop."

Without warning, Holly snapped her head forward, colliding with Charlie's nose. He let out a howl of pain, clutching his face, where blood had already begun to seep down his shirt. His nose was surely broken.

He grabbed the bridge of his nose and, to Holly disgust, snapped his nose back into place, leaving the blood all over his face, hands and shirt. He then grabbed onto Holly's blouse, smearing the pale green color with red, and spat in her face.

"You're going to behave like a good little bitch! Or you will suffer the consequences."

"Like what? What could possibly be worse than being stuck here with you?" Holly shouted back. The worst place she could possibly be in was right here in this room.

"This isn't a physical punishment, this is a bit psychological." Charlie responded, already walking out of the room.

"I'm pretty sure I'm already in enough psychological torment." Holly muttered to herself.

"You'd be surprised!" called Charlie from the other room.

A few seconds later he came back with a trolley, its contents covered with a gray tarp.

"So, you want to see what I have in store for you?" asked Charlie, his eyes actually lighting up at the prospect of torturing the agent.

"Bring it on, old man," replied Holly dryly.

Dramatically, Charlie whipped off the tarp, revealing a video camera and a syringe.

"Always one for flair, I see," commented Holly. "This the best you got? A camera and a shot?"

"It's not what they are," replied Charlie. "It's what I intend to do with them. How do you think Jennifer is going to feel once she sees you're not dead?"

Realizing what Charlie was doing, Holly's eyes widened and she started struggling against the restraints.

"Anger?" Charlie continued. "Joy? Regret? Then what about when she realizes that she's going to watch every little thing I do to you? Disgust? Rage? But then, what about when she comes to the realization that if you were just dead, she wouldn't be going through all of this pain? All of those girls wouldn't have been raped? How is the lovely Jennifer Jareau going to feel when she realizes that this is all your fault?"

"She- she wouldn't." Holly panted, still struggling. "She'd-"

"-Understand? Please! It is your fault! I even admit that I only raped all of those girls because of you!"

Turning his back to Holly, Charlie started working on hooking up the camera to a computer and setting it up to stream.

"They'll track it." Holly said. "Their analyst is pretty good."

"I'll be bouncing this thing from servers all over the world! I'll be changing IP addresses every twenty seconds! There's no way she'd be able to track the streaming to this house!"

"I'll tell them where we are, they'll lip-read or something."

"But that's what this little baby's for!" exclaimed Charlie, holding up the syringe. "You'd be so fucked up you won't know which way is up!"

"What is it?" asked Holly wearily.

"Flunitrazepam." shrugged Charlie.

"You're injecting roofies into my bloodstream? Do you know how much damage that can do to me?" panicked Holly.

"Oh, definitely. Why else do you think I'm doing this?" questioned Charlie, tilting his head. Moving towards her, he grabbed her restrained arm despite her protesting and struggling.

"No! No! Please, Charlie! Please…"

But it was all in vain, as he injected the drug into the crook of her elbow.

A/N- Dun Dun Duuuun! Here ends this chapter!

Now I'm not sure whether to keep updating this or work on Secret Santa, because I haven't done anything to it for a month! PM me or let me know which one you think I should make a priority.

Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited or reviewed! I'll give you all cookies if I ever meet you in person.

Garcie-OUT!

~MBL