16/08/2017. David Rossi's House, Virginia. 02:58 hours.

Spencer tossed and turned relentlessly, much to his leg's chagrin. He could not shift the image of Cat Adams' face from the forefront of his mind, no matter how hard he tried. He mumbled incoherently. His entire being tensed as he fell deeper into the nightmare. So deep, he did not notice the shadow stalking into the room and dropping two white pills into the glass of water on the bedside table which fizzed as soon as they came into contact with the liquid.

"Good night, Spencer. I'll be seeing you again. Real soon."

16/08/2017. David Rossi's House, Virginia. 09:35 hours.

Spencer felt nauseated by the scent of cooking bacon wafting up the stairs. He had barely awoken and dressed himself when the smell assaulted his senses. His mouth felt drier than a desert. Spencer reached for his glass of water and guzzled it like a dying man. He was too thirsty to notice the slightly bitter taste. Setting the empty glass down, Spencer eased himself up onto his feet. His muscles felt as though he had done ten rounds with a boxer. With wobbly steps, Spencer made his way towards the door. The landing before him swayed and spun. Spencer grasped his forehead with one hand and used the door frame for support with the other. Everything was blurring before his eyes. As he had done on previous days, he lowered himself to the floor and slid down the stairs. The stench heightened, making Spencer's stomach turn. His strength was quickly waning and he was unable to get himself up from the floor. A shadow loomed over him. Spencer squinted up at the figure, desperately trying to make out their features.

"Dave?" asked Spencer warily. The figure chuckled.

"Of course not, Dr Reid." Spencer frowned and opened his mouth to respond but it was as though the frontal lobe of his brain had stopped functioning. Only choked noises sounded from Spencer's throat, "Shh. Don't fight it." A hand smoothed his hair out of his eyes as his eyes fluttered shut.

Spencer jerked awake as though ten thousand volts had shot through his system. His drug-addled mind struggled to find the present tense. His neck was aching and his left shoulder throbbed steadily. He let out a muffled grunt as another jolt of electricity was sent coursing through his entire nervous system. His heart pounded against his ribs. The familiar keen he heard when he came to from the train crash had returned. He groaned. He made an effort to move his arm to massage away the pain from his still-healing shoulder but his arm refused to move. Somewhat confused by the lack of response from his limb, Spencer peered questioningly down at his arms. They were wrenched behind his back and bound tightly with several layers of thick, black tape.

He appeared to be laid on a wooden floor. He looked around and realised that he was lying on the lounge floor on his side. His knees and ankles were bound and his knees were tucked into his chest where more tape held his upper arms flush to his torso. He felt a pair of prongs push against his ribs, followed by the buzzing sound of a tazer coming to life. Spencer let out a scream at the fire that raged through every nerve and synapse. His scream was muffled by layers of tape across his mouth and wrapped around his head. He snapped his head sideways to see the masked figure crouched beside him with an electronic tablet between their hand. The tazer was set down at the figure's feet.

"I was beginning to think I'd gave you too much, Dr Reid." Spencer grunted angrily in response and tried to throw his body forward. The figure chuckled again, "Nice try, doctor. You best get comfortable as a friend has a message for you." The tablet powered to life, revealing a familiar, psychopathic face. Spencer fought with his remaining strength against his bonds at the sight of Cat Adams. She giggled maniacally.

"Hi, Spencie! This is nice. I get to talk and you have to listen. I have to say, Spencie, I really thought you'd have blown those pretty brains out by now. I mean, that guilt has to be brutal to live with. I must say, bound and gagged is a good look on you." Spencer let out a muffled yell, ignoring the protest from his shoulder and leg, "Still got a terrible temper, I see. I couldn't let you win again, Spencie. This needs to end. Since my little train crash didn't work, and since you didn't kill yourself as planned, I had to find one final way to hurt you before they stick a needle in my vein." Spencer's face distorted into a menacing snarl, "Ooh, so angry! It's kinda hot!" Cat bit her bottom lip seductively at the sight of the bound man, "Was good to see you again, Spencie. Will I see you again next week?" Spencer growled in response. The screen on the tablet went black. The stranger came to their feet and tucked the tablet into their coat. Spencer watched as the intruder swiftly moved over to the fireplace and retrieved the wrought iron tool used for stoking the coals. The figure stopped at Spencer's head, the bar resting against their shoulder.

"Sleep tight, Dr Reid." The bar came down hard on Spencer's head, sending him into an instant state of unconsciousness.

16/08/2017. David Rossi's House, Virginia. 10:36 hours.

Spencer cracked his eyes open a fraction. Sheer agony spread through his skull. His face felt sticky. He could hear the sound of Derek Morgan whistling a song to himself as he entered via the back door. Derek immediately noticed the lingering smell of bacon and halted in his tracks.

"Spencer?" Spencer had no strength left in him to respond. A thick leather belt had been fed through the spokes on the handrail and buckled tightly around his neck, leaving him no room to move. His hair hung over his bloodied face. The sound of footsteps echoed around the kitchen.

"Hey, pretty boy? You around here?" Spencer gave a small, pathetic whimper. The footsteps became closer. Derek froze to the spot at the sight of a bound Spencer strapped to the handrail, "Reid?" Spencer slowly raised his head to look Derek in the eyes. The hazel orbs of Spencer Reid were clouded over with pain. Derek knelt down beside Spencer and unbuckled the belt holding him upright. Almost immediately, Spencer slumped forward. Derek reached forward to catch his fallen friend. Derek gently lay Spencer down on the floor and straightened up.

"Hang on, Reid. I'll find something to cut the tape." Spencer closed his eyes and let out a long, shaky breath through his nose as Derek's steps disappeared. Derek quickly returned with a steak knife in his hand. He knelt down and tapped Spencer on the cheek, "Hey, kid. You with me?" Spencer nodded beneath the dark-skinned man's palm. Derek started to saw through the tape holding Spencer's ankles and knees together. Spencer grunted as his legs came free and cramp set in. Derek moved on to Spencer's torso and wrists. Spencer's hands had mottled in shades of red and purple. Spencer swallowed hard at the pain surging through his arms. Derek slowly turned Spencer onto his back so that he could finish his assessment. Spencer's eyes were squeezed shut. The suffocating tape over his mouth brushed against his septum and dug tight into his cheeks. A large purple bruise started to form around Spencer's neck. Derek reached up and gently cut away at the tape near Spencer's ear. He slowly and carefully peeled the tape away from Spencer's face and unravelled it from his curls. Spencer was breathing hard as his eyes snapped open.

"Derek?"

"What the hell happened here, kid?"

"Someone broke in and drugged me. Cat Adams. Cat's accomplice. She wanted to hurt me once more before her execution." Spencer gingerly touched his temple to feel the dried blood caked to the side of his face. He winced at the sharp pain from the large laceration above his left eyebrow.

"Are you hurt at all?"

"I think I have a concussion and I was tazed a few times." Spencer appeared dazed as he attempted to sit up. Derek too easily pushed the smaller man back down. Spencer gritted his teeth and fought against the large hands.

"Don't fight me, kid. We need to get your head checked. You had a bleed on the brain and I would hate to imagine what your new head injury has done." Adrenaline rushed through Spencer's veins as he shoved Derek away, "Reid! You need to calm down! This isn't you." Spencer scrambled to his knees and made it to his shaking legs. The room spun viciously. Spencer grabbed his head with both hands and swayed on the spot. His eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped to the ground.

16/08/2017. Ambulance, en route to St Andrew's Hospital, Virginia. 11:00 hours.

Spencer felt restricted, very restricted. His back ached from lying on something cold and hard. He blinked several times at the bright white light that obscured his vision. Something hard was wrapped around his neck, preventing him from moving. A pair of blocks held his head perfectly still. A foul, clinical tasting tube was seated between his teeth. A mask covered his nose and mouth. His wrists had been bound to the cold metal rails on the gurney with bandages. Spencer felt anxiety rushing throughout his chest and tightening around his lungs. The nearby sound of beeping quickened. A female face loomed over him.

"You're okay, Dr Reid. I need you to calm down for me. You've hurt your head, sir. We're taking you to the hospital." The medic's face was replaced by Derek's. Derek clasped Spencer's terrified hand that was feebly tugging at the bandages.

"Reid? Hey, kid, it's me, Morgan. Listen, you're in an ambulance. You got combative and then collapsed and had a seizure. They had to put an airway in as your mouth was full of blood. You were blue, man. You were minutes away from being fully intubated. I know you're scared right now, but the restraints are for your safety and ours. It looks like you're bleeding into your brain again." The beeping sound grew faster again. Spencer's jaw clenched around the airway and his arms pulled against the makeshift restraints. The straps holding him down to the back board prevented his back from arching. His eyes rolled back once more.

"Dr Reid? Dr Reid? Can you hear me?"

"Reid? Hey, pretty boy!" The medic shone her pen torch into Spencer's eyes. His muscles visibly contracted as he entered the throws of a seizure, "Reid? Reid!"

"He's having a seizure! How far out are we?"

"Five minutes out," responded the male medic driving the ambulance.

"Make it three! Step on it!" Derek found himself launched into the cabinets as the ambulance swiftly picked up speed.