A/N: Don't kill me for this. Reid should not be left in my hands.
Warnings for violence and sexual content.
The team piled in to the conference room and Rossi and Morgan practically dragged Reid over to the sofa in the corner, sitting him down. He felt boneless, his arms flopped down at his sides and his legs had no strength to support his weight. It was like he was drunk again.
Morgan looked at him with a pained expression. He pushed him down onto his side, making him lie down on the sofa. He pulled his legs up onto the other end so he could rest. He perched himself on the edge of the sofa, just in front of his stomach, took his hand in one of his own and stroked his head gently with the other. He looked to Hotch, his gaze was piercing.
"What the hell happened?" Morgan asked. He sounded annoyed, but the team knew better. He was scared.
The team were all eyeing Hotch now. Whatever caused this happened in Hotch's office and they were determined to find out why.
"Sit down." Hotch ordered to the team.
They looked at him, the sense of fear and dread in the room building as they followed his instruction. Morgan stayed with Reid, combing a hand over his head, trying to calm the shivers that were now running through his body.
"Everyone knows." Reid said in a broken voice.
They all turned to look at him. He wasn't looking at any of them. His eyes were fixed on a spot ahead of him.
"No, Reid. No they don't." Morgan tried to reassure him.
"My name..." It came out as no more than a whisper.
The team exchanged concerned and confused glances.
"What's that, Reid?" Rossi asked gently.
"His name has been released to the press." Hotch said, not attempting to hide the anger in his voice.
"What?!" JJ gasped, her hands going straight up to her mouth.
"No." Garcia breathed out. Her eyes filling with tears of shock.
Prentiss dropped her head into her hand. Rossi closed his eyes. Morgan just stared at Hotch in dangerous silence. His jaw clenched. His eyes burning with fury.
"The media have promised to keep it quiet but-"
"The internet is a different matter." Rossi finished his sentence for him, matter of factly.
Hotch simply nodded.
A pained gasp came from Reid. It wasn't physical pain. It was pure emotional agony.
Morgan started stroking his head again, having been shocked into stillness by the revelation.
"It's okay, Reid." He said gently. "It'll all be okay."
"Nothing will ever be okay again." He mumbled putting a hand to his face.
Morgan closed his eyes. Hotch looked around the table at the others, they all knew this to be true. This would be a disaster for anyone, but for Reid? It would be devastating.
He had worked so hard to prove himself, after years of being seen as 'too young', or 'too weak'. Dealing with strange looks from local police when they met him, being talked over by people who didn't respect him or just generally made fun of or disregarded. Those issues still happened from time to time, Tucson was a prime example of that. But for the most part, Reid now commanded respect. This could easily rip that all away from him.
Hotch imagined the whispers in corners of police stations as Reid entered with the team. The questions of 'hey, are you that agent from the video?' The jibes people would make about him needing protection or their skepticism as he suited up for a raid or take down.
He tried to shake the thoughts away, but they were becoming a very real possibility.
"Reid, your name is classified information. If anyone shares it they will be breaking Federal Law." Rossi reassured him.
Reid went to sit up now, Morgan shifted to give him room.
"They have already broken Federal law by posting the video in the first place. What's going to stop them now?" Reid sounded incredibly depressed. His voice was flat and monotone.
"Guys. The Director has taken claimed ownership of the video, listen to this." JJ said, scrolling through her phone. "FBI Director, Jack Fickler has confirmed that the viral video is classified evidence in an FBI case and has warned against sharing the video. He states "This video is confidential FBI property and should never have been leaked to the public. We are currently running an in-depth internal investigation to ensure that no further leaks occur. But let me please remind the public, sharing this video or any information pertaining to the origin of this video or those involved is a Federal crime and will be treated as such."
"That's good. That should make a lot of people think twice about sharing it." Prentiss nodded.
"He also says he is in conversation with social media companies to remove the video from their platforms." JJ added, further scrolling through the article. "The media have turned off commenting on the articles as well by the looks of it."
Morgan breathed a sigh of relief.
"Well, that's something." Rossi sighed.
Reid was now sat with his head in his hands. The only sign of the panic attack before was a slight tremor.
"I spoke to Nick and he is hopeful that they will be able to track the IP of the original poster. If we find that, we find the source of the leak." Hotch said, looking mostly at Reid. "He's on his way in now to meet with Dave and I."
Reid just nodded.
"It will all be okay, Reid." Rossi said comfortingly.
He just looked at him, no hope in his eyes. Like he'd already lost everything.
Rossi felt like a cold hand was crawling up his spine. He really hoped it would be okay. In truth, he didn't know if it would be. What he did know is that he would move heaven and earth to prevent this from getting any worse.
"Thanks for meeting with us. I know you're incredibly busy." Hotch said, shaking Nick's hand.
"Not a problem. I wish it was under better circumstances." Nick said, his expression downcast. "How is Dr. Reid doing?"
Hotch and Rossi exchanged glances.
"He's not been good. Given the circumstances, that's to be expected." Rossi shrugged.
"Absolutely." Nick nodded in understanding. "After what he went through, this is something he could have done without."
Hotch just frowned, tightening his lips.
"Have there been any developments?"
Nick shifted uncomfortably.
"No. Analysts are still working on locating the IP address. There was nothing returned from the letters sent to the media. They were completely clean."
"Are you sure you don't want Garcia to take a look?" Hotch pressed.
"I can't, Agent Hotchner. Genuinely. I am under strict instructions." Nick appeared frustrated. "In all honesty, the Director's grip on this is slowing everything down. He wants it all done 'by the book', so you can imagine the delays it's causing."
"Classic FBI red tape." Rossi rolled his eyes.
"So what now? What do we do?" Hotch asked, sounding uncharacteristically lost.
"The best thing you can do is let me do my job." He said firmly, his gaze unflinching. "Let me work with my department to locate the leak and let me guide your agent through this. This isn't the first time I have dealt with a situation like this. Abusers often use videos as collateral against victims."
"So you think this is collateral against Reid?" Rossi asked.
"No, not at all! I'm just saying, I'm used to dealing with victims who have had their videos posted or shared online."
"Wouldn't your focus be better placed elsewhere?" Hotch's brows furrowed.
"This is my job, Agent Hotchner. Victim support is a huge part of what I do. If he wasn't FBI I would be at his house supporting him whilst the investigation is ongoing. I would recommend that we treat this like any other case. He shouldn't be involved in anything related to this investigation. He needs to be allowed to process this as a victim, not an agent."
Rossi nodded. "He's right, Hotch."
"But is he safe?" Hotch asked impatiently.
"John Maloney isn't even in the state right now. This is a clear distraction technique. They knew we were getting close to making some major arrests and now they have all of our attention focused on this. He's clever. There's a reason why he's been able to do this for so long under the radar." Hotch continued to stare at him, clearly dissatisfied. "Look, if it makes you feel better I will order a protective detail for him. I really must stress how important it is to keep him away from all of this though. No phone, no Internet, no TV. The stress of this on the victim can be catastrophic and his mental health is already severely compromised. Him being here isn't doing him any good at all."
"I can't just send him home. I don't want him out of my sights right now." Hotch admitted.
"Then like I said, let me do my job and let me take him home. He will be perfectly safe with me and I can talk him through it all. Then I'll be there for when the protective detail arrives and can take him through that too."
Hotch exchanged a glance with Rossi then looked at Nick questioningly.
"What aren't you saying?" Rossi asked.
Nick sighed.
"It's not just to benefit him. The Director wants him out of here. He heard about the panic attack before and he is... concerned about the effect it will have on other members of staff."
"How considerate." Rossi said sardonically.
"He makes a good point though. A situation like this could create mass hysteria. What we need is to continue functioning as normal and whilst people are seeing scenes like that, there is nothing normal about it. Not to mention the mental damage it does to Dr. Reid to have that happen in an office full of his colleagues."
Hotch nodded in understanding. If Reid wasn't a member of his team, he would be suggesting exactly the same thing.
He looked at Nick sternly.
"You will take good care of him?"
"Agent Hotchner, it's my job." Nick said with a slightly offended smile. "Dr. Reid will be well protected but most importantly he will be appropriately supported. As I say, we have no suggestion that there is any risk to his safety. The video is nothing more than a distraction."
"And it's working." Rossi said.
"Exactly." Nick said in frustration.
Rossi looked at Hotch. He clearly didn't want to let Reid leave. He understood completely. But it wasn't doing him any good. It was going to make him ill if they weren't careful and they'd only just got him back.
"Hotch?" Rossi said gently. "You know he's right."
Hotch rubbed his eyes with his hand and grimaced.
"I know." He said through gritted teeth. He really didn't want to do this. "Okay. Get him out of here. Let me know as soon as the protective detail arrives. I want to know he's got someone with him at all times."
"I completely understand. That won't be a problem."
"Thank you." Rossi said, extending his hand out for a shake.
"I promise you, we will get to the bottom of this." Nick reassured.
Hotch also shook his hand.
"He will be okay. I will make sure of it." He nodded to Hotch, his expression soft. He knew how much the Unit Chief was worrying.
"Thanks Nick. It's appreciated."
Reid pushed the key into his apartment door and opened it, allowing Nick to enter. He followed and closed the door, locking it firmly behind him checking the locks multiple times.
Nick looked at the locks curiously.
"I know. Four is a bit excessive but... well..." Reid just wrapped his arms around himself.
Nick just smiled a kind smile.
"It's perfectly natural to want to feel safe, Dr. Reid."
"Call me Spencer." Reid gave a tight lipped smile and moved around the man. 'Dr. Reid' was feeling way too formal for a man who knew what he knew about him. "Do you want a coffee?"
"No thanks." Nick said, sitting down on the sofa looking around the apartment. "You obviously like to read."
"Yeah." Reid said, not really in the mood for making idle conversation. He looked at the man on the sofa as he poured himself a coffee. He couldn't feel more awkward than he felt right now. He was grateful for Nick's support, but having an unknown entity in his apartment was setting him on edge.
He stirred his coffee and moved to sit on the sofa. Nick turned to him.
"So, how are you doing?" He asked gently.
Reid's eyes flooded with pain for a second before he masked it with a false smile.
"I've been better."
Nick just smiled.
"I promise you, we are doing everything we can to stop this getting any worse."
"I know. Hotch said you don't think this is directed at me in particular."
"No. I believe it is designed to distract us from our investigation. We have been making huge progress since the shut down of the eastern operation."
Reid looked down and nodded.
"The deaths of Steve and Jason brought the whole thing to a stand still for weeks. What we learned is that Steve was laundering a lot of money through various businesses under numerous identities."
"So he was heavily involved?" Reid said, his heart beating a little faster.
"Yeah. He was one of the key players within the organisation." Nick said. Seeing Reid's reaction he stopped. "I don't have to tell you this if it's going to cause you distress."
Reid shook his head. "No... it's okay. Tell me." He breathed out a calming breath.
"Okay, as long as you're sure." He waited for Reid to nod. "Steve's real name was Paul Maloney. His brother is the head of the whole trafficking ring."
"What?" Reid gasped, eyes wide open.
"Since his death all of Pau- Steve's businesses have been shut down. We managed to rescue 7 young men from a storage unit where they were being held in preparation for sale." Nick dropped his gaze. "The youngest was 16, the oldest 27."
Reid paled.
"16." He whispered. His mind went to Morgan and how much he still struggled twenty years later. His eyes watered up.
"I know." Nick said, the disgust written on his face.
"Had they all been..." Reid couldn't finish the question. Nick knew what he meant.
"Sadly, yes." He rubbed a hand to his forehead. "The unit was what they call one of their 'training facilities'." He practically spat the words. "Every one of them had been picked up by Jason."
Reid's mouth dropped open.
"They were all vulnerable in one way or another, whether they had drink or drug problems, were homeless or just new to the area. He befriended them, gained their trust and-"
"Stop." Reid said suddenly, his breath picking up. "I'm sorry, I can't." He stood quickly and headed to the bathroom.
Nick sat back into the sofa and sighed. He could hear the sound of Reid retching and regretted ever mentioning Jason. He was still severely struggling, which wasn't surprising. What had been done to the 7 they had rescued was awful, but it paled in comparison to what had been done to Reid in such a short space of time. As a rule the traffickers kept their 'property' in good condition. They didn't sadistically 'use' and abuse them, as they needed them for profit. Any severe mal treatment would tend to come once they were sold, depending on the sort of person they were sold to. After that point, some would be found without a scratch on them, some with cuts and bruises and others would look like Reid did. They were what they considered the severe cases. And usually that level of abuse would happen gradually. Not over the space of two to three days.
Reid entered the room again, he looked pale and his hair was stuck to his forehead.
"Are you okay?" Nick asked kindly.
"Yeah." Reid breathed out. "Sorry. I guess I never really thought about.." He shook his head. "Hearing it just..."
"Made it real."
Reid swallowed.
"Come on, sit down, Spencer. Take a few deep breaths."
He nodded and sat down, resting his head back into the sofa.
"The protective detail will be here soon." Nick said, looking at his watch.
"Do you think I need it?" Reid asked, closing his eyes, the trepidation clear in his voice.
"It's just a precaution." Nick said confidently. "Besides, your boss wouldn't let you leave without it."
Reid smiled a little and huffed out an amused breath.
"Typical Hotch."
"He's an intimidating character." Nick joked.
Reid lifted his head to look at him, a smile on his face.
"You have no idea... But he's one of the best people I know."
"He obviously cares about you a lot."
"He does." Reid smiled again.
Three loud knocks on the door came and Reid looked at Nick.
"That will be the protective detail." Nick responded, nodding at him to open the door.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Reid stood and went to the door. He had to admit, this did make him feel more secure. Especially given the information he had just learned.
He worked his way down the locks and opened the door.
As soon as he opened it two pairs of hands aggressively grabbed his biceps lifting him off the floor. Two other men followed into the apartment, closing and locking the door behind them.
Reid let out a startled yelp.
"What are you doing?! Nick? Help!" He called out desperately.
Nick was in shock as one of the men approached him, he went to grab his gun but was hit hard across the temple. He fell back into the sofa. His gun was simply removed from his holster and pointed at him. He froze.
A third man grabbed Reid's legs. As he tried to kick him off the three men dropped him hard to the floor on his back, knocking the wind out of him.
Before he could catch his breath and try to figure out what was happening they were on him, kicking his stomach, back and face.
He cried out and curled inwards, trying to protect himself. About 15 kicks in the fourth man held up his hand.
"That's enough."
Reid was a shaking mess on the floor.
"Get him up."
Two of the men grabbed him by the arms and pulled him up to standing. He cried out as his body straightened out.
Reid desperately tried to make eye contact with Nick, but he dodged it in cowardice, bringing a concerned hand up to his mouth.
The younger agent looked a mess already, his eyebrow and lip were split and blood was pouring from his nose. Nick looked down to the floor.
"Nick?" Reid called out woozily.
A clenched fist met his jaw. Reid's head was rocked to the side then it dropped forwards as his consciousness swam.
"Shut up!" The fourth man said angrily. He was clearly the one in charge.
All he could feel was panic. His heart was beating so fast he thought it would leap out of his throat.
He realised with horror that this must be the man that Nick had referred to. The one his protective detail were supposed to be protecting him from. But they weren't here. He hoped beyond hope that they would turn up soon.
This meant that the man in front of him was Steve's – No, Paul's brother. John Maloney. High level criminal. Head of a sex trafficking ring.
Reid's heart sank. He knew the profile of such people, and it wasn't good.
A hand grabbed the back of his head and pulled it up so he was facing John.
He was around 6ft 3, bald with a goatee, well built but not fit. Hatred burned in his eyes. He bore a striking resemblance to his dead brother.
Images of Steve flashed through his head.
Come here, pretty boy.
This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening.
"Alan." John brought the third man's attention to him and handed Nick's weapon over.
"Doctor Reid." He spat, grabbing his face. His hand ran up the side of his thigh and then grabbed at his holster, pulling his revolver free. He was now unarmed. Not that he'd even had chance to reach for it in the flurry of violence. "Do you know who I am?" His eyes raked up and down his body.
Reid nodded his head as well as he could with his hair being pulled and his face held. His eyes were wide and terrified. He had no words.
John released his face. Still weighing him up and down he continued. "So, you're the reason that my brother is dead?"
At this Reid shook his head desperately and began rambling.
"No! No, Jason killed him! He slit his throat. It was Jason. I didn't-"
A finger came to his bloodied lips.
"Hush." He said gently and Reid was silenced, frozen in terror.
John took his finger back and licked the blood from it. Reid's brows furrowed slightly in disgust.
"Jason isn't here... You killed him, right?"
Reid didn't respond, he glanced to Nick who drew his gaze away again.
His face was forcefully grabbed once more.
"Don't look at him! Look at me!" Reid closed his eyes as the man hissed in his face. "You killed Jason?"
"Yes." Reid whispered.
"So... I should really be thanking you for killing my brother's murderer." He said simply with a smile.
Reid's mouth twitched as he guardedly stared at the large man in front of him.
"Let him go." He said to the two men either side of him, releasing his face as he did.
Reid's mouth dropped open, his guarded expression had turned into one of frozen anticipation. He didn't dare to believe that would be the end of it.
The two men backed away from him, leaving him standing awkwardly in the centre of the three of them. His whole body was tense.
A knock came at the door.
Morgan sat in the conference room, constantly fidgeting. He didn't know what to do with himself.
He is a man of action. Someone who always does something when things are going wrong. But now, he couldn't do anything. With the BAU prevented from assisting and Reid being taken care of by Nick he found himself lost.
It didn't help that Prentiss kept making rounds of coffees. Presumably because she felt exactly the same.
The caffeine was only serving to make him more restless.
"Derek, you're going to hit oil if you're not careful." Rossi gestured to his foot drilling into the ground.
Screwing his face up in frustration he ran his hands over his head.
"I hate this, man! All this sitting around when we could be doing something."
Prentiss nodded in agreement.
"I know." Rossi said, resting his forearms on the table. He looked equally frustrated.
They sat for a few minutes in silence again. Morgan's foot still drilled into the floor. Hotch entered the room and they all looked at him.
"Any news?" Prentiss asked quickly.
He shook his head, his face in a deep frown.
"Nothing."
"Okay, I've had enough of this. I need to do something and if I can't do anything here then I'm going to see Reid."
"Morgan, Nick can handle it." Hotch said warningly.
"I don't care, man. Nick can handle it. I'll just be there as moral support. I gotta do somethin', I'm going mad here, Hotch."
Hotch stared at him hard for a few moments, then silently nodded. If he had the choice between sitting here waiting or supporting Reid then he knew where he'd be.
"Message me when you get there. I want to know if the protective detail has arrived."
Morgan nodded.
"Sure thing." Morgan moved towards the door and stopped. "Thanks, Hotch." He nodded.
As Morgan left, Hotch ran a hand down his face and he sighed.
"This sucks." Prentiss sighed.
Hotch almost laughed. So simply put, but so true.
His phone rang and he looked at it. Garcia again. This time he just cancelled the call.
"I'll be back shortly." Looking at the table he took in the amount of empty cups. "Emily, stop making coffee."
He left the room and headed to Garcia's office.
"What is it?"
"Sir, I know you said we couldn't. And I didn't, but then they were threatening to release Reid's name and I just couldn't sit back and let them do that. So I did. And I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."
"Garcia, what have you done?" Hotch asked seriously.
"I found it! I found the leak!"
"You found it?" Hotch's heart leapt.
"It took some doing but I found it. I'm so sorry, Sir. I couldn't just do nothing."
"Never mind that, Garcia. What did you find?" Hotch asked quickly.
"The IP led back here."
"To the FBI."
"No, well yes, but this building specifically."
"This building?" Hotch was horrified.
"More specifically the third floor - more specifically VICAP - more specifically Agent Samantha Woods."
"Samantha Woods? Are you sure?" Hotch looked shocked.
"Absolutely sure. Now I don't how she received the video in the first place. I can't look into that without hacking into our own system, which would definitely alert the Director."
"Garcia, I don't care, do it. I will deal with the Director."
Hotch went to leave the room.
"Hotch!" He turned. "It took some work to find but it's nothing that an analyst on another team couldn't have done. Someone with an average skill set could have located that IP." Hotch nodded, understanding her meaning: Something wasn't adding up.
He swiftly left the room.
Everyone froze at the knock and they all looked at each other cautiously.
Hope gripped Reid's heart. This must be the protective detail Nick had ordered.
Nick stared at Reid. He seemed scared. That didn't fill Reid with confidence.
Suddenly a knife was at his throat. One of the men had wrapped an arm around his chest, holding him close and the knife dug into his flesh. He let out a startled yelp but held completely still.
Perhaps a knife might change your whole position on the kissing issue?
Reid closed his eyes as memories swept over him.
John lifted Reid's Smith & Wesson and approached the door.
Another knock came.
"Reid? You there, kid?" A familiar voice came from the other side of the door and Reid's heart leapt.
"No!" He struggled with the man holding him but the arm around him was joined by another grabbing one of his free wrists and the knife dug in further causing nicks in the skin. Reid hissed and stilled again.
"Oh, a friend is it?" John said with a smile.
Reid's gaze was now on Nick, pleading with him to help. But they both knew as he was, held at gunpoint by Alan, there was little he could actually do. Not that he had tried to assist in any way so far.
John casually pulled the door open, Reid's gun pointed at the face of the person on the other side.
"Woah." Morgan stepped back a little, holding a hand up and instinctively reaching for his weapon with the other.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Agent." John said darkly. "In." He ordered, gesturing with the weapon into the apartment.
Morgan's eyes widened as he saw three unfamiliar men. One holding Nick at gunpoint and the other two restraining Reid with a knife to his throat. His stomach dropped. He should have been more alert.
"No, Morgan, don't!" Reid cried out desperately. His efforts earned him another nick to his throat.
Morgan took in Reid's already battered face and the blood from the cuts to his neck, anger burned in him. He took some cautious steps into the apartment and the door closed behind him.
"Your weapon." John said, pushing Reid's gun up to his head.
"Look man, whatever this is, you don't have to do this." Morgan spoke calmly, his eyes on Reid the whole time. He hoped that negotiation was possible.
Reid's eyes were pleading with him not to surrender his one form of defence.
"Your weapon, Agent." When Morgan hesitated, John's eyes flicked to the men holding Reid.
The knife was pulled away and he was forcefully grabbed by the hair and wrenched backwards and off his feet. He cried out in surprise. Kicks once again rained down upon him, most met his midsection but one particularly brutal kick hit his ear. He whined as agony shot through his head. The overwhelming sound left him completely dazed.
"No!" Morgan blurted out in panic. "Okay, okay, just stop!" He pulled his weapon from his holster and handed it to John unable to watch any more of the horrific scene in front of him.
John pulled out Morgan's credentials and his phone.
"Agent Derek Morgan. Nice of you to join us." He threw the credentials to the floor.
He flicked through the phone going straight to the messages. Morgan's last message had been sent to Hotch only minutes before.
"Just arrived." John read aloud. He smiled, typing quickly into the phone appearing to send a message. "There." He threw the phone across the room. "We shouldn't be disturbed for a while now."
Morgan stared at him in horror. This was not good.
Reid was then heaved back up to his feet, the arm around his shoulders now supporting part of his weight as his head swam and his legs shook from the numerous blows to his stomach. The knife was returned back to his neck.
John nodded to Alan who removed Nick's handcuffs from his belt and approached Morgan.
Morgan watched him carefully, trying to calculate if there was some way out of this. Once he was handcuffed, his chances of fighting back were hugely reduced. He looked to Reid again. His eyes were glazed and his head hung forward a little but he was conscious. The knife was still pressed firmly into his neck. A quick movement of that blade would sever any hopes of Reid making it out of this alive.
Hands shaking with a combination of fury and protective terror, Morgan allowed himself to be led at gunpoint over to the radiator underneath Reid's window. He noted that Nick was no longer being held at gunpoint, but was making no attempts to assist them in anyway. It just went to show how little control they had in this situation.
Three disarmed agents against four men armed with a combination of guns and a knife didn't leave much room for hope.
"Sit." Alan said simply. John was watching him the whole time.
Again, Morgan hesitated. John wasted no time in moving towards Reid and pointing his revolver at his previously shot kneecap.
"I suggest you do as he says." He said simply, staring fiercely at Morgan.
Reid gasped as he felt the barrel on his knee. The thought of being shot there again, especially at such close range, filled him with dread. That would be an injury he may never fully recover from.
Seeing Reid's reaction, Morgan surrendered.
"Okay!" Morgan took himself down to the floor and allowed Alan to loop the handcuffs through the radiator and secure him to it.
Now he was truly helpless and Reid was left completely unprotected. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He cursed himself for allowing this to happen. He glanced to Nick, who would not meet his gaze. His eyes were on John, cautiously watching.
John withdrew the weapon from Reid's joint and Morgan realised for the first time that it was Reid's own revolver.
"Now Agent, you're going to be nice and quiet. For every noise you make, your 'friend' here will pay the price." He said, gently slapping Reid's cheek in a friendly manner. Morgan hated to see him flinch the way he did. He looked back to Morgan. "Understood?"
"Yes." Morgan replied and instantly regretted it as John's fist met Reid's cheek. Reid groaned in pain.
"Understood?" He reiterated.
Morgan's eyes burned with fury, his eyes stayed firmly on Reid, but he nodded in agreement, unable to do much else.
He was desperate to just pluck Reid out of the arms of the men holding him and get him to safety. He could see the difference between how he had bravely stood up to Tobias and his game of Russian roulette in the live stream, his defiance with Jason on the video and how he was behaving now. There was no fight. It made him sick to see him so cowed. He had either taken as much as he could take or he didn't see the point anymore. Both scenarios deeply upset him.
John turned his eyes back towards Reid.
"Let him go." He said to the men holding him, as he did before. Reid was returned to his awkward position stood and surrounded by them. He swayed a little more than he did before.
"Now, where were we?" John mused. Reid licked his lips nervously as he watched John carefully. John extended his hand out for a handshake.
"Put it there." He said, smiling at Reid admiringly.
Reid stared at the hand. He didn't dare move.
John laughed lightly and extended his hand out further.
"Come on, I don't do this for everyone." He said jokingly, like it was some kind of honour.
Morgan watched in confusion but willed his colleague not to return the gesture.
Reid held his breath and cautiously extended his hand out to accept. John grabbed his hand and shook it enthusiastically.
"Thank you so much, Agent Reid for killing that bastard who murdered my brother." He said with a grateful smile.
Reid's lips tightened into a tense line, his jaw was clenched.
He kept shaking his hand and Reid's stomach rolled as he tried to pull it back but John wouldn't let go.
The smile from John's face was starting to drop and a shiver ran down Reid's spine.
The hand suddenly tightened painfully and Reid winced. John's face had dropped into a fierce scowl and he pulled Reid towards him, grabbing the back of his head so their cheeks were touching. His mouth was level with his ear.
Reid held his breath.
"You're the reason my brother died." He spoke in a low and menacing tone. Reid tried to pull away but the hand tightened in his hair keeping him firmly in place.
"If it wasn't for Jason wanting to fuck you, my brother would never have been there." Shame washed over him at the words. He could feel hot breath on his ear, it made him shudder.
The words broke Morgan's heart. He could almost see Reid deflate right in front of him. He didn't speak, despite every muscle in his mouth willing him to. He fought angrily and hopelessly against his handcuffs.
John wrenched Reid's head back to look him in the eye. Their faces were disturbingly close. "If it wasn't for you, he would still be alive."
"I didn't want any of this." Reid couldn't help but whisper. A tear escaped down his cheek.
John laughed and wiped it away.
Morgan felt his eyes well up too. He desperately tried to make eye contact with Reid, but John's face was too close.
"Crying already Agent?" The other three men laughed. "This doesn't bode well does it?" He said to his companions.
"We'll give him something to cry about." Alan said, still laughing.
John then threw Reid backwards towards the other two who quickly grabbed his arms, holding them behind his back.
Reid fought, trying to escape their grasp but was unable to.
"Stop it!" Morgan shouted furiously.
"Let me go!" He begged. " I didn't ask for any of this." He reiterated. "Think about it, this makes no sense! It was Jason, it was all Jason." He tried desperately. He looked around the room at the various faces, pleading for some understanding, some recognition that this wasn't his fault.
His eyes met Morgan's for a short moment, the desperation and fear was painful.
Morgan looked to Nick, who appeared detached from the situation. He wouldn't make eye contact with any of them.
"Shush, Agent Reid." John said soothingly, moving towards him again. He put his finger to Reid's mouth again. "That pretty mouth needs to stop talking." Reid closed his eyes as the other hand brought his gun up to stroke his cheek.
John nodded to Alan again and he moved towards Reid forcing a cloth into his mouth to silence him.
The cloth pushed deep into his mouth, forcing his tongue back. He could taste blood from where the cloth had made contact with his upper lip. He felt like he wanted to gag.
Morgan watched through pained eyes, but didn't say anything. He would die for Reid, but he wouldn't watch Reid suffer because of something he did. He looked to Nick who took a couple of steps forward to help but stopped himself, too nervous to intervene.
"How old is he?" He asked, turning to Nick.
Nick glanced at Reid then Morgan, a guilt-ridden expression on his face.
He cleared his throat.
"Um, 29."
"He looks younger." John said regarding Reid again. "But there's still a market for something as sweet looking as this. Shame he's FBI. If he wasn't, that would have saved his life."
Tears ran down Reid's face in utter disbelief. All these months after Jason, after all the work he had put in try to move past it, get himself back to work, restore his confidence, build back up his walls. They were all worthless. He was going to die here.
John looked at Reid's revolver thoughtfully. Suddenly he removed the cloth from Reid's mouth and replaced it with the gun.
An icy cold shiver ran down Reid's body as he felt the hard metal enter his mouth and the metallic taste of the gun landed on his tongue. It felt invasive and terrifying. He had been held at gun point many times before, but this was easily the most horrifying way to be held. He closed his eyes in horror and anticipation.
"No! Don't do this. Leave him alone!" Morgan suddenly shouted in complete fear.
"Look at me, baby face." John purred.
Reid's eyes snapped open, fully aware of how pathetic and vulnerable he looked, eyes watering, body shaking, mouth hanging open trying to make room for the weapon invading his mouth.
"Should I pull this trigger because your friend can't keep quiet?"
Tears escaped Reid's eyes and ran down his cheeks.
This silenced Morgan once again.
"Shut him up." John turned to Alan again who took the same cloth and stuffed it into Morgan's mouth.
He felt the same sensation to gag as Reid and soon suppressed any urge to fight against the cloth. It only made it worse.
His eyes were wide and apologetic as he stared at Reid. All he received back was a quick embarrassed glance.
"Much better." John said, surveying a now silenced Morgan. "Now, Spencer, show me what that pretty mouth can do." He smiled. "Pretend it's Jason."
He shot Nick a smug look and he looked away horrified, ignoring Morgan's muffled moan.
At the mention of Jason's name, Reid's breath caught and images invaded his vision. He tried to blink them away.
Morgan spotted the familiar motion and his brows furrowed in concern.
John looked back to Reid.
"I'm waiting, Agent."
More tears ran down Reid's face and he shuddered. No matter how much his mind was telling him to do it, he could not bring himself to wrap his lips around the gun. Especially with Morgan in the room.
His mind was calculating the angle of the weapon and the damage it would cause if it were to fire. At the current angle, he likely wouldn't die. But he'd certainly have life changing injuries.
John rolled his eyes impatiently, flicking the safety off making Reid tense up, a small sob escaped.
Terrified, he tentatively closed his lips around the barrel.
"That's it." John said with approval, grabbing the back of his head and tipping it back slightly. He painstakingly pushed the gun in further, allowing it to touch the back of Reid's mouth. His eyes screwed shut as he tried to suppress a gag.
Morgan could only watch in horror. His fury and disgust were building dangerously.
Slowly John moved the gun back and forth forcing Reid to simulate one of his worst nightmares with the loaded weapon. He kept his eyes closed trying to block out the image of John's sickeningly gleeful face.
"Look at me." He whispered again.
Morgan screamed out from behind the cloth pulling furiously on his handcuffs. Seeing Reid's helpless and devastated face was just too much to bear.
Reid's tear filled eyes reluctantly opened to meet John's salacious gaze.
"Look at those huge, pretty eyes. I can see what Jason saw in you. You're very cute. I bet your boss, thinks so too."
More tears ran down his face.
"When he's had a hard day and needs a release. Does he get you on your knees and put that pretty mouth to good use? If not, I bet he thinks about it."
The disgust was written on Morgan's face. He could only imagine what Hotch would do to this man if he said that to his face.
Reid tried to protest around the weapon but it just came out as a small sound in his throat.
"If you weren't FBI, I know a few guys who would love to take their turns with you. Show you what you're really made for... because you were Agent. You're a natural." He said with another smile, knowing the pain such a remark would cause to his victim.
Morgan's ability to remain infuriated was waning, misery and shock were now taking over. Seeing Reid reduced to nothing more than a sexual joke, and forced to simulate oral sex with his own gun was more than he could cope with. It was so far from who he was.
The other men laughed.
"How about you, Nick?"
He looked at him guardedly.
"Wouldn't you like to try Dr Reid's mouth?" He said with a huge grin, aware of and delighting in the discomfort he was causing.
"Stop it." Nick said, disgust painted his face.
John laughed.
"Don't look so horrified, Nicholas. Where do you think all that money you've enjoyed has been coming from?"
Reid's eyes jerked over to Nick and he suddenly looked incredibly uncomfortable. Reid felt like there was a lump in his chest. Surely Nick couldn't be involved in this.
Morgan's eyes had also landed on the man. Unsure as to whether it was a taunt designed to create doubt. Nick gave little away.
John pushed the gun right into Reid's throat, causing him to gag again and panic, making teasing eye contact with Morgan as he did so. Reid tried to loosen the grip around his arms but it was hopeless.
"I bet you've thought about this, haven't you, Agent? You seem protective. Does he belong to you?"
Morgan broke eye contact, completely repulsed.
Turning his attention back to Reid he continued, a sick smile on his face.
"Are you scared, Dr. Reid?… What if my finger were to slip?" He tapped his finger on the trigger.
John took great pleasure in watching Reid flinch, the terror in both of their faces and the sounds of Morgan's handcuffs banging against the radiator in a desperate attempt to get him to stop. He relished the tears that were making their way down Morgan's face and the useless support he was trying to convey to his struggling friend.
"With some training you'd have made quite the investment." He sneered, watching the disgust in Morgan's face. He turned back to Reid. "But sadly, an FBI agent would be more trouble than he's worth." He then pulled the gun out disgustingly slowly.
"Use your tongue." He breathed out. He was clearly turned on by the display in front of him.
Reid sobbed but obeyed and opened his mouth, allowing his tongue to run down the underside of the barrel. He'd never felt more humiliated in his life but this seemed par for the course now. The only thing left to save was his life. There wasn't much else worth saving.
Morgan closed his eyes, unable to watch.
"Eyes open, Agent." John said casually. When Morgan opened his eyes, the man was looking at him. The order was meant for him.
Morgan's face twitched as he took in the scene.
"Your friend is very talented. I would hate for you to miss it."
He pushed the gun back into Reid's mouth again and again running it over his tongue, saliva was now dripping down his chin.
Reid was breathing hard, it was clear he wanted to break down and cry. His whole body was trembling.
"That's it. Very good, Spence."
John emphasised the name as if he knew the effect it would have on Reid. As expected, Reid's breathing picked up and his eyes started blinking rapidly. He pulled at the arms holding him, trying to wriggle free and get any form of space that he could.
John smiled and turned to Nick.
"You were right. That does work."
Nick closed his eyes, shaking his head. Seemingly with regret.
At this Morgan lost it, pulling violently at his bonds and screaming through the cloth in his mouth. If he was loose at that moment, he'd have torn all of the men to shreds. Come hell or high water, they would be mutilated. Nick included.
To use his PTSD like it was some sort of fun switch that he could flick to make Reid suffer, infuriated him beyond anything else. Knowing how hard Reid worked to avoid his triggers and how embarrassed he was by the fact that he often couldn't, made Morgan want to weep. Reid needed comfort and kindness after a flashback. He thought of all the times he had reached out for a hug or rested his head on his shoulder to ground himself. That's what he needed right now but all he was going to receive was more cruelty. He would escape one nightmare to find he was in another. How another human being could be so merciless was unfathomable.
Why Reid had to be dragged into all of this was beyond him. To come across such a selection of sadistic and psychopathic minds was so far past just bad luck. How one person could face such misfortune, it wasn't fair. For the first time, Morgan found himself concerned about how many more there were out there as part of this sickening operation. If Reid didn't die would they just keep coming until he did? Was he now just trafficking property for them to torment?
John smiled at Morgan keeping his eyes on him teasingly. "It's all over now." He said comfortingly, licking the side of Reid's face as his did, earning him a flinch from his victim and a chuckle from Alan. Morgan renewed his struggles.
John slowly pulled the gun out, snapping Reid back to the present. He was finally able to close his mouth. He tried to wipe away the saliva with his shoulder. The relief was overwhelming. His body was racked with tremors.
John then trailed the gun up the side of his face and between his eyes. Reid was trying to recover his breath whilst dealing with the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He tried to break free once again but the hands held him tight. He had no choice but to watch as the gun was held up to his forehead. He closed his eyes.
Morgan stopped breathing. Icy cold fear ran up his spine. 'It's all over now', John said. He couldn't watch Reid die in front of him. Especially not after everything he had been through. It was just too brutal. He shouted from behind the cloth. All that emerged were muffled sounds from his throat.
If he could he would pull the cloth from his mouth and choke the man with it. The frustration was unbearable. If he ever got his hands on these men he would rip their throats out.
Reid felt like time stopped. The cold metal of the gun dug terrifyingly into his forehead. He didn't breathe. He didn't move. A faint high pitched buzzing in his ears drowned everything else out as his body froze in anticipation of the gunshot.
The silence seemed to be screaming at him. It went on for what felt like an eternity.
Then the metal was gone. He felt like he was floating.