Part 6- The Blood Letting

Dr Spencer Reid was lost in a trance, his hazel fixed on the freshly stirred coffee in the mug before him. He mindlessly watched the bubbles twirl and pop. His chin rested in the palm of his cupped left hand, his stubble brushing against his skin. He had had trouble sleeping so decided to get in to work early and get a head start on his reports which he successfully cleared in no time. Spencer flicked back the sleeve of his blazer to check the time. His steel watch flashed in the fluorescent lighting in the bullpen. His team were due in any moment. Usually Unit Chief Emily Prentiss was the first in after Spencer, closely followed by David Rossi who would read a newspaper and have some coffee before the morning began. Luke Alvez was generally next in after going to the gym or out for a run with his Belgian Shepherd Roxy. Matt Simmons and Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau usually arrived at the same time having had to care for their children first. Dr Tara Lewis usually arrived last.

Spencer watched the elevator with interest. As predicted, Emily darted towards her office as soon as the elevator doors hissed open. She barely looked around, her shoulders hunched and her black leather purse blending in with her coat and shoulder-length hair. Spencer smiled to himself as he watched her enter her office. The elevator sounded again, attracting Spencer's attention. He raised his mug to his lips to sip his coffee. David predictably followed, a rolled up newspaper under one arm and a take out cup of coffee in his hand. He dropped into a plush armchair near the break room with a sigh and flicked open his newspaper. Luke arrived shortly after, his cheeks flushed and beads of sweat on his forehead. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder. Luke gave Spencer a nod of acknowledgment as he set his backpack under the desk adjoining Spencer's, slumping into his swivel chair.

"Morning, Luke," offered Spencer with a smile.

"How's it going, Reid?" responded Luke as he eyed the pile of manila folders in his tray. He quirked a dark eyebrow at the genius who innocently sipped his coffee, "Did you do some of these?" Spencer gave a vague shrug and returned to mentally debating the next to arrive. Matt arrived with a smile dancing on his lips and his backpack over his shoulder. He too nodded in acknowledgment and sat at his desk that was across the walkway from where Spencer's desk was situated. Tara followed, a take out cup of coffee in her hand and her leather purse over her shoulder. She eased herself down at her desk next to Matt. Spencer's eyebrows pulled tight in confusion and concern. Before he even had time to panic, JJ dove through the elevator doors and paced to her desk directly opposite Spencer's, her face pulled tight in frustration. Spencer's eyebrows shot up.

"You okay, Jayje?" asked Spencer, slowly sipping his coffee. JJ tucked a lock of golden hair behind her ear and sighed, her purse open on her swivel chair.

"Yeah. Michael's going through a clingy phase." Spencer responded with a silent 'O'. JJ glanced at her files, "Did you do some of my files, Spence?" Spencer tapped the tip of his nose.

"I asked the same thing, JJ. Reid's being super secretive about it," responded Luke, his eyes never leaving the open file in front of him.

Suddenly, it was as though a rainbow had descended on the bullpen. Technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, appeared. She dashed past them in a flurry of colour, her neon pink heels tapping against the tiled floor. Penelope glanced at the group.

"Sorry guys. We got a case." Everyone nodded in unison and shuffled their way to the conference room. Spencer took his usual chair by the window and set his half-filled mug down on the round wooden table. JJ seated herself to Spencer's left. Matt, Luke and Tara sat next to each other. David and Emily sat nearest the exit. Penelope clasped a matt silver remote in her polished hand. Her dress and cardigan matched her shoes and the flowers clipped into her golden curls. Even her spectacles matched. If it had been sunny outside, she would have blinded everyone with colour. She pressed a button on the control and the monitor on the wall came to life.

"Morning, crime fighters. Our next case is in Miami, Florida. We have three people who have been found in random locations within the Miami area. The first was Hannah Georgeson, a twenty six year old medical student from Miami," the face of a beautiful, dark-haired woman appeared on the screen, "she was found completely drained of her blood and her body replaced with formaldehyde. Next was Scott Harding, a thirty three year old paralegal," a smiling man with sandy blonde hair appeared, "he was found buried in a coffin, having been bound and suffocated. Finally, Tanesha Waters, a twenty nine year old barista," a smiling woman with chocolate coloured skin and curly hair appeared, "she was also drained of her body fluids and then buried." Matt cocked his head in confusion.

"Well, he crosses racial and gender lines. Are we sure this is the same unsub? I mean the deaths are similar, but nothing screams signature," said Matt, pointing an open palm at the screen.

"Was there anything linking these three people?" asked Tara. Penelope shook her head, her blonde curls swaying. Spencer scrunched his face in thought, the side of his finger brushing back and forth over his bottom lip. David glanced at him.

"What're you thinking, kid? I can hear the whine of your IQ from all the way over here," commented David, an eyebrow raised at the genius. A small chuckle sounded from the other team members.

"Garcia?" asked Spencer quietly.

"Yes, boy genius?"

"You said the first victim had been drained of her blood and her body fluids replaced with formaldehyde? What about the third victim?"

"Yeah."

"Formaldehyde is one of the main constituents of embalming fluid," Spencer's eyes narrowed as he looked closer at the photographs, "I would need to see the bodies, but I suspect we'll find a needle mark on the victims somewhere, most likely the neck."

"Where are you going with this, Reid?" asked Emily as she flicked some of her hair back.

"I think our unsub has mortuary training."

"So we could be looking at someone who works or has worked in a funeral parlour or in a hospital mortuary?" asked Luke.

"I think so," answered Spencer.

"Okay, wheels up in thirty. Once we land, Reid is to visit the ME and look over the bodies. JJ and Matt, I want you to speak to the families and find out anything you can about them. Luke and Tara I want you to walk the crime scenes. Me and Dave will set up at the Miami field office. Garcia, I want you to start compiling a list of people who has worked in a mortuary or funeral parlour in Miami. We'll be able to narrow it down once we have more information and a geo profile," directed Emily. Everyone nodded and separated to gather their go-bags.

Miami was blisteringly hot and humid for the time of year. Spencer felt uncomfortable in multiple layers of clothing so he tucked his black blazer into his go-bag. He rolled the sleeves of his aubergine coloured button down shirt to his elbows and loosened one of the upper buttons. He was grateful that he had not bothered with a tie. With his badge safely tucked into his black dress trouser pocket, his revolver nestled on his right hip and his ID card clipped to his belt, Spencer swept his dark brown, collar length curls out of his face and made his way into the medical examiner's office. The blast of cool air was refreshing against Spencer's burning skin as he entered the morgue. A cacophony of smells assaulted Spencer's senses. The light was blindingly bright.

"Hello?" called out Spencer as he shielded his eyes from the light. A shuffle sounded off to Spencer's right.

"Ah, hello. I'm Dr Matheson. How can I help?" a well built man with salt and pepper hair appeared from behind a barrier. Spencer fumbled in his pocket and withdrew his badge, holding it open.

"Hi. I'm Dr Spencer Reid from the BAU. I've come to look over the victims."

"Ah, yes. Miss Georgeson, Mr Harding and Miss Waters."

"What can you tell me about their COD?"

"Miss Georgeson and Miss Waters both died from exsanguination. Mr Harding was low on blood volume too but he died from asphyxiation." Dr Matheson tugged a pair of blue nitrile gloves from a box on the counter and pulled them on over his calloused hands. Spencer repeated the action. They approached the table occupied by a male body, a white sheet pulled to his waist. A large 'Y' shape cut extended from beneath both collar bones and stretched down to his pubic bone. The cut had been crudely stitched. Dr Matheson lifted the deceased man's right hand to reveal bloody nail beds. Spencer leaned over to get a closer look.

"His nails have been ripped out. He must have been buried alive." Dr Matheson hummed an agreement. Spencer glanced over his shoulder of the body of Hannah Georgeson who lay behind him. He turned and leaned in close, his curls brushing against her face. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of a puncture wound over the woman's jugular vein, "There's a needle entry point here. Does Miss Waters have one?"

"She does," came the pointed response. Spencer's brow furrowed, "So does Mr Harding."

"Do you have a tox screen for the victims?"

"Yeah. Let me pull them out."

"Okay. One minute. I'm just going to call my team." Spencer darted out of the double doors, ripping off his gloves and tugged his cell phone out of his pocket. He dialled a number. After three rings, a female voice answered.

"Prentiss."

"Hey, Emily. It's Reid. So all three victims were exsanguinated as suspected. Dr Matheson is pulling the tox screen for me now. All of them had large puncture marks on their necks, most likely from a trochar. Each victim has ligature marks on their wrists and ankles. I suspect that they were dosed with something first to get initial control over them." Stars danced before his eyes at the breath he had apparently been holding in.

"Okay, good work, Reid. Finish up there and meet us back at the field office so we can start building a geo profile."

"Okay. Bye." Spencer hung up and sighed, pushing one of the doors open, his phone still in his hand, "Sorry about that, Dr Matheson. Where were we on the tox screen?" Spencer glanced around. He was alone with the three corpses, "Dr Matheson?" A white cloth slammed over Spencer's nose and mouth. The sickeningly sweet smell burned his nose. His hands flew up, one grasping at the hand holding the cloth over his face, the other trying to pry away the arm locked around his chest. Spencer desperately tried to yell out but his calls were stifled by the cloth. He twisted and turned, kicking out at anything to try and get free. The cloth pressed harder into his face. Darkness encroached on his vision as his eyelids fluttered. His hands limply fell away from the arms as he slumped into the body behind him.

Emily paced the conference room of the Miami field office. The others had returned from their tasks over an hour ago and Spencer was due to have returned already. She glanced at her cell phone. Deciding to give him a little more time, she sat down at the long rectangular table.

"What do we all have?" asked Emily with a sigh.

"So, Hannah was a first year medical student. She didn't really have much in the way of friends or a social life with her studies," answered JJ.

"Scott was well respected as paralegal. He enjoyed sports and boys nights out. A typical young man," added Matt, "Tanesha was bubbly and fun. She had a few close girlfriends. She was well liked by her customers."

"What about the crime scenes?" asked Emily.

"Hannah was dumped under some bushes in a rarely used parking lot. The guy that found her had decided to take a different route on his morning jog. Tanesha was found behind a dumpster at the back of a closed down store," responded Tara.

"Scott was buried a few miles out along a hiking trail. The grave wasn't very deep but was easily sniffed out by a couple walking their dog," said Luke. Emily huffed outwardly.

"So, still nothing linking them? I spoke to Reid an hour ago. He said all victims had ligature marks on their wrists and ankles and had puncture wounds on their jugular from a trochar. All of them were exsanguinated, except Scott didn't die from the blood loss; he died from asphyxiation."

"So, he was buried alive?" asked David. Emily nodded grimly and glanced around the room. She flipped her phone over in her hand. JJ appeared to have caught on to Emily's grimace.

"Where is Spence? Shouldn't he back by now?" asked JJ, her voice tinged with concern. Emily's mouth straightened into a thin line.

"He was only waiting for the tox screen." She quickly dialled Spencer's number.

"Dr Spencer Reid's phone. Sorry I can't answer right now but if you leave a name and number with a brief message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"That's not like Reid to not answer his phone. He always answers. I swear the kid doesn't sleep," said David, his eyebrows knotted.

"Where was the ME's office?" asked Matt.

"About fifteen minutes drive," answered Emily.

"Did he mention the name of the ME?" asked Tara.

"Yeah. Dr Matheson."

"Perhaps we should go over there to see what the hold up is," suggested Luke. Emily nodded.

"Good idea. Let's go." The team filed out of the field office and piled into two government issue black SUVs.

They had expected Spencer to be lost in a world of his own, absorbing as much information from the bodies as possible, or perhaps drinking a coffee or two when they got to the medical examiner's office. The group followed the signs directing them to the morgue. As they entered the brightly lit room, they were met with the three bodies of the victims. Emily's foot nudged against something soft. She glanced down and noticed a tan leather satchel laid half open across the tiles. Amongst the contents was a cell phone, an ID card, revolver and the credentials of Dr Spencer Reid. Emily snapped her head up and looked around, her hand closing around the handle of her gun.

"Reid? Dr Matheson?" She was met with silence, "Shit." She drew out her cell phone and dialled a number.

"You have reached the office of supreme genius! Speak and be dazzled!"

"Hey, Garcia. I need you to find everything you can on a Dr Matheson from Miami ME office."

"Certainly, my sweetness. Dr Harold Matheson is a fifty four year old Miami native. He graduated medical school seventeen years ago and moved into the medical examiner position in Fort Lauderdale until two years ago when he moved back to Miami. He has no children and divorced a month ago."

"We need addresses, PG. Home and any other addresses; warehouses, storage units, anything."

"Sure thing, hot cakes. I've sent you his home address and the address for his storage unit. They're quite a way apart. Is this guy our unsub?"

"We believe so. And he has Reid."

"What? Tell me you're joking right now, Em."

"I'm afraid not, Garcia. Reid's bag, phone, badge and gun are all here at the office but there's no sign of either of them."

"Oh, not my baby genius."

"We'll find him." Emily hung up and turned to the group, "Okay, Garcia has sent us Dr Matheson's addresses. Luke, Matt and myself will go to his house. Dave, Tara and JJ go to the storage unit. The co-ordinates are in our phones."

Spencer groaned. His head felt fuzzy as though it were full of cotton wool. His eyes felt heavy, as did his limbs. He slowly creaked his eyes open to see nothing but darkness. He suddenly felt claustrophobic and exceptionally cold. His knee knocked against something hard. Spencer struggled to find the present tense in his haze. He tried to shift his position but his head banged against the same thing his knee did. He let out another groan. As he made an attempt to rub his now aching head, he discovered his hands were bound underneath him, pressing painfully into his back. He tested his bonds to find tape had been wound excruciatingly tightly around his wrists. Spencer tried to wiggle his arms to free himself but found his upper arms to be held to his torso with more tape. He could feel panic bubbling in his throat. His ankles and knees had also been bound. He shook his head and tried to call out but his voice was lost into more tape that was pressed firmly over his lips and wrapped several times around his head. He could feel the edge of the tape rubbing against his nose. Panic took over and Spencer let out a long, muffled scream as he attempted to kick with both feet at his surroundings. A door above his head opened, letting in a square of light. He rolled his eyes up to see Dr Matheson stood above him with a casual smile on his face.

"Good of you to join me, Dr Reid." Spencer's brow furrowed as he tried to piece together what had happened. He felt himself slide backwards. He raised his head a little to see that he had been inside of a morgue refrigerator; the kind used to house dead bodies. Spencer's eyes widened and he let out another scream as he attempted to shuffle himself away. Dr Matheson grasped Spencer around the chest and dragged him off the rolling trolley. Spencer landed unceremoniously in a heap on the floor. Dr Matheson too easily picked the young doctor up from the floor and slung him over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Spencer struggled against the man, his curses and yells muffled by the tape over his mouth.

His vision was assaulted by a bright white light, forcing him to slam his eyes shut. He was thrown down onto a cold metal surface, the back of his head thudding against the steel. He groaned again at the new pain in his head. His hands remained underneath him. Spencer opened his eyes and began to fight against his bonds once more. Dr Matheson leaned in close, a scalpel in his hand. The scalpel was pressed to the genius' cheekbone.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Dr Reid." Spencer lay still, his chest heaving and breathing heavily out of his nose. Dr Matheson smiled again as he brought thick leather straps across Spencer's chest and legs and buckled them tightly, holding him down to what he could only assume was an autopsy table. His head was lifted slightly and a wooden block was placed under his neck. His curls splayed across the table. Another belt was pulled over his forehead, holding his head back and the veins in his neck protruding. Spencer was rendered completely immobile. Dr Matheson appeared in Spencer's field of vision with a trochar attached to thick tubing in his gloved hand. Spencer attempted to shake his head but the straps prevented him from moving.

"Mmmrmm. Mmmpph," Spencer attempted to plead through his gag.

"Shhh. This will all be over soon." Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, tears stinging his inner eyelids. He felt the doctor's fingers probing the right side of his neck, "There'll do. Hold still." Spencer let out a whimper as he felt the sharp pinch of the trochar being pushed into his skin. The pain intensified as the trochar was pushed further into Spencer's jugular. He let out a muffled cry and struggled against the straps. Dr Matheson taped the trochar in place and moved to the bottom of the table where he flicked on the switch of a machine. Spencer heard it whir to life. He opened his eyes and rolled them to the side to see Dr Matheson stood over his head. He could feel the blood being drained from his body.

"This shouldn't take long, Dr Reid."

Dr Matheson stood proudly, his hands clasped in front of him watched the crimson liquid flowing steadily down the tube. Spencer grew paler by the minute, the rings around his eyes darkening. The young doctor was having extreme difficulty staying awake and his breaths were slowing. He was startled out of his trance by the door crashing open, followed by the presence of three agents. One of the agents was a petite, blonde woman with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. The other was a dark skinned woman with black wavy hair. She was tall and had her jaw clenched. The third agent was an older man with grey hair and a goatee. All three of them had Kevlar vests strapped over their chests and their guns drawn. Dr Matheson pulled out his scalpel and held it to Spencer's throat.

"Dr Matheson? Drop the scalpel. Let's talk about this," said the older man.

"No! She left me. I need someone to pay!" screamed the medical examiner.

"Killing people isn't the answer, doctor. What has it accomplished, huh?" asked the dark skinned woman.

"No!" Dr Matheson's face screwed up, tears streaking down his face. A shaking hand lowered the scalpel closer to Spencer's neck. A shot rang throughout the unit, hitting Matheson squarely in the shoulder. The man howled and dropped the scalpel, grasping his shoulder as blood spilled between his fingers. David wasted no time in throwing Matheson to the ground on his stomach and wrenching his arms behind his back, swiftly handcuffing the man. JJ holstered her smoking firearm and darted to the machine to turn it off. She began loosening off the straps over Spencer's legs. Tara unbuckled the straps over his head and chest. She peeled off the medical tape holding the trochar in place and tugged the large metal needle out. Spencer's eyes flew open with the pain, a low gasp escaping his taped lips. Tara pressed a hand to Spencer's neck to stem the blood flow.

"Hey, Reid. It's going to be okay," said Tara with a smile. Spencer blinked and attempted to speak but it simply came out as mumbles, "JJ's going to cut you free. I need to keep pressure on this." Spencer nodded weakly, his glazed and tired eyes fixed to the forensic psychologist, "That's it, keep your eyes on me." JJ grabbed the fallen scalpel and cut through the tape holding Spencer's ankles together. She peeled it away from his trouser legs. She moved further up, removing the tape around his knees. Spencer's eyes fluttered.

"Reid? Come on, man. Stay awake." Spencer's eyes creaked open again, "Good man. Keep looking at me." JJ severed the tape holding Spencer's arms close to his chest.

"Uhm, can we sit him up so I can remove this tape and free his hands?" asked JJ. Tara tapped Spencer on the cheek to bring him back out of his daze.

"Spencer? We need to sit you up so we can finish cutting this tape off you. Nice and slow, okay?" Spencer nodded. With a bloody palm still pressed to Spencer's neck, Tara manoeuvred her other hand to Spencer's back. JJ gripped under his left arm. Together, they gently sat the genius up. He let out small mumbles, his head falling forward and the sharp edge of his jaw resting against Tara's thumb. JJ made quick work of the tape restraining Spencer's wrists. His arms fell to the sides, his skin red and chafed. Sensing that the doctor was starting to lose consciousness, they lay him back down, his neck resting against the block. JJ pushed some of Spencer's curls out of the way so she could find a way to get to the tape over his mouth. She gently cut through layers of tape, trying not to cut his skin. She fumbled with the cut she made and began to peel the tape away from his face, and unravelling it from his hair. His skin was reddened around his mouth from the obtrusive tape. By the time they had removed every piece of duct tape from the genius' body, medics descended on him, hooking him up to various machines.

Spencer felt warm and comfortable. He felt well rested, yet still very tired. A steady beeping broke through the haze. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around with bleary eyes. He took a mental note of the readings on the EKG machine. He could feel the cool material of the blood pressure cuff around his upper left arm. Multi-coloured wires snaked out from the collar of the thin hospital gown he wore. He glanced down at his hands. His wrists had been wrapped with bandages. A pulse oximeter was seated on his right index finger, the red glow against his skin. An oxygen cannula was tucked under his nose. He noted the IV in the crease of his elbow feeding a thick, ruby red liquid into him. He could feel the dressing taped to the side of his neck, the gauze tickling his jaw.

"Welcome back." Startled, Spencer glanced up to see JJ, Tara and David at the end of the bed. Thin blue blankets were pulled to his waist.

"Hey, guys." JJ dropped into the seat beside the bed and enveloped Spencer's cold right hand in her own. Spencer turned his head to look at her.

"How're you feeling, Spence?" asked JJ.

"Tired, but okay," answered Spencer, squinting as he looked at the other agents.

"Dr Matheson had managed to drain almost four litres of blood from you when we took him down. They've had to give you three blood transfusions already. The doctor says you're severely anaemic so you'll need to have iron supplements for a while," responded Tara. Spencer nodded softly.

"What happened in the ME's office, Reid?" asked David, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, a look of concern in his ageing features. Spencer opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure of how to respond. JJ gave his hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

"Well, we looked at the bodies and I asked Dr Matheson to get me the tox screen results. Whilst he was finding them, I called Emily to tell her what I found. When I went back into the morgue, I couldn't find Dr Matheson. I felt a cloth press over my face and I struggled to get away. It went black after that. When I woke up, I was in complete darkness and it was cramped. When the door opened and I was pulled out, I noticed it was a refrigerator. You know, the morgue ones for keeping bodies?" Spencer glanced up, his lips dry. He traced the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip before continuing, "He dragged me out, threw me on the floor, then slung me onto an autopsy table. He strapped me down and put the trochar in." Spencer's hand unconsciously moved to his neck, his fingertips brushing over the dressing, "I don't remember anymore after that." JJ held out a glass of water to him. Spencer's hand moved from his neck to reach for the glass and gratefully accepted it. He took a few sips, the cool water soothing his dry throat, "I'm really tired." Spencer lay back into his pillows.

"Go back to sleep, Spence. I'll be right here." A smile danced on Spencer's lips as he closed his eyes and returned to his peaceful slumber.