A/N Hello to those people following this story! I hope you are enjoying it.

Chapter 4

It was dark when the voice woke her, but couldn't have been more than just past late evening.

"Penelope?"

"Derek?" The technician sat up in her loaned bed as her favourite agent slipped through the door that she was sure her captors had locked. He must have found a key. "Oh thank God you're here!" The room she'd found herself in earlier had only bare furnishings; a bed and a table and not much else. With nothing else to do but what Reid had said she propped herself up on the bed to wait. She must've dozed off. "You don't know how good it is to hear your dulcet tones my wonderful Morgan!"

"This place is pretty messed up, huh?"

She could see his silhouette in the dark but not much more than that. An intuitive shiver hit her gut, the same one that had told her not to go out with the random handsome stranger who had ended up shooting her.

"I've seen freakier things," she weakly joked back.

Morgan began to walk towards the bed and she felt her insides freeze.

"What are you doing?" a tremor of panic threaded through her words.

"You are very beautiful Penelope Garcia."

Her hand slipped under her pillow.

"Oh, I know that," she returned lightly, "but now is neither the time or the place for you to express your revelation of this rather obvious fact."

He took the final step towards the bed.

"What time or place could be better?" he purred in a distinctly un-Morgan-like way, just as Garcia pulled out the pepper spray and hit him square in the eyes.

The scream that emitted from the intruder was also un-Morgan-like and as he staggered backwards, hand clutched to his eyes, a wig of some description tumbled to the floor, releasing a mop of unruly hair.

"My creepy senses were tingling," she muttered, taking the opportunity to get the hell out of the room. By the time Frank recovered she was long gone.

Morgan snapped into alertness the instant his door began to open in the darkness.

"Who is it?" he demanded, his hand slipping under his pillow.

"Morgan, Morgan, its just me. They told me where to find you."

Derek relaxed a fraction.

"Reid, what do you think you're doing creeping around like that?"

Reid hesitated just inside the room before replying.

"I was worried about you. We hadn't seen you for so long that I thought..."

Morgan breathed a sigh out through his nose and removed his hand from under the pillow.

"Well, as you have discovered, I'm fine." He waited for the reassurance to sink in and for Reid to react accordingly. The shadow of the doctor merely sidled closer to the bed.

"I'm scared Morgan." Reid sat down on the bed. "Will you protect me?"He began to lean over.

It took Morgan a full second to comprehend what was happening, and less than that for his gun to be in his hand. With a startled yelp the intruder jerked backwards and fell off the bed, a wig tumbling to the floor.

"I knew it," Morgan muttered, slowly disentangling himself from the bed sheets, whilst keeping his gun levelled at the intruder. "Doctor Furter, do not move or I will..." a section of bed sheet tangled up and tripped him in the dark. Morgan stumbled and recovered quickly but Furter had already fled the room.

Reid was sitting in a corner of his own room on the only chair it possessed. For some reason the lights didn't seem to be working so he'd rifled through his satchel until he'd found the item he was looking for. The small wind up light was incredibly handy, particularly in situations where he found himself unable to read because it was too dark, such as the back seat of an SUV at night. He was sure his captors intended him to sleep but he was resolutely set against that outcome. There appeared to be a bookcase in this room; because he was also a doctor he wondered. Reading the selection of books that Frank had designed to be in his room might give him some insight into the mind of the murderer, particularly if the man felt they were kindred spirits on some level. He was roused from the book he was perusing by a noise at the door of a key turning. He lifted his eyes as the handle dipped and the door creaked open.

Morgan inched his way down the corridor, gun at the ready, wall at his back. He knew that you couldn't arrest someone for dressing up like another person and trying to have sex with you but it sure as hell was creepy and Morgan wasn't taking any chances.

A figure in the corridor up ahead made him hold his position cautiously until he recognised the silhouette.

"Garcia?"

The technician visibly jumped and spun, brandishing a pepper spray in his face. "Don't come any closer," she warned.

Morgan's forehead creased with a worried frown and he moved the gun he was training on her to point skyward.

"Hey, Baby Girl, it's just me."

Garcia looked at him suspiciously.

"What is my boyfriend's name?"

"Garcia..." he tried to take a soothing step forward but she jabbed the spray at him.

"Answer the question."

"Kevin," Morgan uttered quietly, "his name is Kevin." He kept a wary eyes on the pepper spray.

"What was it you called me when I dyed my hair?"

Morgan thought back a moment, "Red. I called you Red.." He looked at her pleadingly. "Garcia..."

"One last question," she said it breathlessly, desperately. "What happened the only time you've ever shouted at me?"

Morgan lowered his hands, his face sad as he remembered; the fear, the helplessness, the driving anger.

"I'd just seen a good man, a good cop, killed in front of my eyes and his family's. I made a promise to protect his daughter and the killer had taken her. She was only nine years old."

Garcia let out a strangled sob and threw herself into his arms. Morgan held her comfortably until she could step back. He listened to her whisper over and over, "it is you, thank God, it is you," until he made the connection.

"Did he hurt you?" There was ice in his voice and fire in his eyes and he felt his insides crumble in relief as Garcia shook her head with a weak smile. She tilted the pepper spray back and forth.

"Never leave home without one."

Morgan allowed a small smile before it faded.

"What have I missed?"

The memory surged to the front of her mind and she clasped her hand to her mouth as she gasped.

"Oh God...Morgan! He killed someone!"

His eyes glinted. "What?"

"With a pick axe," the horror of the memory spilled out in a rush. "He hit him with a pick axe." Her hands began to tremble around the pepper spray. "There was nothing we could do. Nothing Reid could do." A new thought struck her as she breathed, eyes wide. "Reid!"

"I should have killed the bastard when I had the chance," Morgan muttered. The gun was out again as Morgan cast a glance down the corridor at his back.

"Reid!" Garcia repeated but Morgan wasn't listening, his eyes darting up and down the corridor.

"Do you know for sure that he's dead?"

"Yes...I mean no..." Garcia tripped over her words as her revelation struggled out, "we didn't have time...but Reid, Morgan!"

The urgency in her voice drew his eyes back to her and then the penny dropped.

"Which way did they take him?"

Garcia could only shake her head wordlessly. Morgan swore and gripped her arm urgently.

"Garcia, find somewhere safe. I will come back and find you." With that he set off down the corridor. "Keep that pepper spray on you," he called over his shoulder.

Garcia, left on her own again in the dark, couldn't hep whisper in black humour, "Ten bucks says Mr Creepy looks like you."

Reid was feeling distinctly unnerved as the alleged Doctor Frank planted his arms against the wall both sides of Reid's head and leaned in.

"I'm not...erm...I'm not..." Reid stammered slightly, shrinking back until he could feel the burn of fabric against his skin where it dragged, "I'm not...entirely comfortable...with this."

Frank pouted at him with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"That's what they all say to start with," he murmured seductively, giving a low chuckle. He moved closer until his forehead pressed lightly to Reid's, the lip-sticked smirk contrasting to the worried grimace. "They always end up changing their minds."

Reid's forehead creased. "No...I don't think..." His words were cut off by a pair of slick lips closing over his own.

"Get – the hell – off him."

Two pairs of eyes, one incredibly relieved and the other irked swivelled to fix on Morgan standing in the doorway.

"Why, Agent Morgan," Doctor Furter breathed in amusement, "I didn't know you cared."

"I said get away from him," Morgan took a step forward into the room and drew his gun, "or I will shoot you."

Frank gave a throaty chuckle, "Now agent, you know you can't shoot someone for indulging in a little intimacy." The words caressed Reid's skin and he grimaced.

"I can if you are assaulting an FBI agent." Morgan's gaze met Doctor Furter's down the length of his gun but the doctor merely raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"I can assure you agent," he placed a hand on Reid's cheek, "Doctor Reid is entirely consenting to this little tête-à-tête."

"Actually..." Reid piped up and Frank turned a burning gaze of irritation onto him, "I'm not."

"Doctor Reid, you cut me to the heart!"

"You heard the kid Furter. Step away."

Frank let go of Reid with both hands simultaneously, his eyebrows raised.

"Are you going to cuff me, Agent Morgan?" His voice still held that breathy quality that took Morgan back to a dark place in his adolescence. His finger twitched on the trigger.

"Morgan, don't." Reid had manoeuvred himself away from his assailant and laid a hand on Derek's arm. Frank smirked knowingly.

"Just a little misunderstanding agent, that's all."

Derek hesitated a moment longer before lowering the gun.

"You and I need to have a very long chat," he muttered dangerously, just as alarms sounded out across the house, causing Reid to jump.

"Master," a disembodied voice drifted out across the house. "The creature has escaped. I will release the dogs."

Frank's face turned into a mask of fury so fleetingly Reid might have thought he imagined it before it turned back into a forced smile.

"I would love to have that discussion with you right now, my delectable Morgan, but as you hear, duty calls."

Morgan holstered the gun and gestured to the door. "Lead the way." Again the look of annoyance crossed their host's face before he masked it, and holding his chin high, glided out the door.