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Time	By : cr8zymommy Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 4586 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
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The whole world was dark. Not a shred of light made it into Spencer’s world. He lay on the floor, his hands handcuffed to a metal hook in the floor, his body stretched out so that his arms were up over his head. And he could see nothing. The superglue was dry on his eyelashes, locking him into the darkness. It was the darkness that brought the terror for him. To see what was coming at him would have given him preparation time. But being unable to see anything, to not know what was coming or from where, put his body on a hyper alert and made every small sound terrifying. Every strike ten times more painful.
When Master’s weight settled over him, pinning his waist and chest to the floor, instinct had Spencer bowing up to try and buck him off. Oh no, please, no. Please. Don’t do this to me! His brain sobbed out through the panic. Every strength and defense he’d built up seemed to scatter like dust in the wind. If he could just see, it wouldn’t be so hard! It wouldn’t be so bad! But he’d known this was going to happen as soon as he’d made his promise to Master so that Henry could go free.
Henry.
At least he’d managed to do one thing right. He’d saved Henry. But, to do so, he’d had to sacrifice his life. Spencer considered the trade worth it. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to save his Godson from being in Master’s hands. Even promise to do the one thing he knew would most likely kill him. The Inferno. But he’d kept his calm, kept his head level, even as he’d felt himself break inside. He’d begged and pleaded and wheedled until Master had been too enthralled with the idea to wait. So he’d taken Henry and dropped him off.
Spencer swallowed and reminded himself that he’d at least been able to say goodbye. He knew Vincent was streaming this to the station; Master had gleefully explained it all when he’d brought them to this new place. At the last house, he’d been unapologetic as he’d struck Spencer across the face, knocking him down and making him dizzy. Then he’d put a bag over his head and cuffed him and taken him and Henry into the back of a van. Where they’d driven, Spencer had no idea. He had no clue where he was.
But when the bag had been yanked off his head once more, he’d found himself in a basement that was almost a perfect replica of the one he’d lived in before. That had been enough to start the terror. That terror had grown when he’d seen Henry chained to a pipe in the wall.
But you got him free. He’s not here anymore. He’s free, back with his mom.
The weight over Spencer shifted, drawing him back out of his thoughts. Teasing fingers danced here and there, taunting him. “You like it in the dark, boy?” Master hissed. “You like what I do to you? You like not being able to see?”
Spencer cowered deep inside while the boy broke to the surface, sobbing slightly. “Please, please, no! Take it off, take it off!”
“Ah, ah, Boy. Quiet. I don’t want to hear you right now.”
Even though he couldn’t see it coming, Spencer knew what was coming next. But there was no way to brace for the hands that clenched around his neck. That moment, as the air was cut off from his lungs, instinct took over. His body twisted and bucked, trying to dislodge the figure over him. He heard the insane chuckles just barely over the rush of blood in his ears. His head spun and his body grew weaker as more pressure was applied until finally, there was nothing left in him to fight with. His body collapsed and he slipped into the darkness only to be revived just moments later.
Twice more this was done. Twice more he was knocked out and brought back. When his hands were released, he curled them toward his exhausted body, automatically moving them to cradle his throat. He heard Master move to stand over him. Couldn’t see the sneer he wore, but he could hear it in his voice. “You’re pathetic, boy. Look at you. Only the first level and you’re a cowering mess. How the hell you think you’re going to survive lust?” There was a tapping sound echoing around the room. Spencer knew Master was tapping his toe impatiently. “I’ve been aching to punish you. I want to feel your blood, hear you scream. I think we’ll hold off on Lust and move to Anger for now. So get on your feet, boy, and try to fight me. Let’s have at it.”
Anger? They were skipping to anger? His brain repeated the description he’d given to Morgan and Garcia. Anger. He ordered me to defy him so that he could beat me. Then he’d make me stand and defy him again and beat me again. Hours it went on. Master wanted him to defy him. Over and over.
The boy moved his hands, bracing them on the floor, moving instantly to obey Master’s commands. But inside, Spencer reared his head once more. A small fire seemed to have lit inside of him. Master wanted him to defy him, did he? He wanted him to fight? Spencer shoved the boy down inside while his body finished rising from the ground. If Master wanted a fight, then that was what he was going to get. My name is Spencer Reid. I am not Boy. I am Spencer he thought to himself. And the hell if I’m going to go down without a fight!
Years’ worth of pain and anger were boiling inside of him. The strength that his friends had helped him find was growing. He was going to die here in this house, of that he was pretty certain. Not only was he going to die, but the camera had been left on for his friends to watch him die. He’d be damned if he was going to die cowering on his knees. For once, just once in his pathetic life, he was going to have the balls to stand up for himself.
The first fist caught him in the gut, almost knocking him over. Spencer tried to use what Master taught him to push the pain back as far as he could. He twisted his body, grabbing hold of Master’s arm so he wouldn’t lose his target, and pulled himself in close enough that he could slam a knee up. He’d been aiming for the groin, but it felt like he hit the stomach instead. Either worked. He heard Master’s grunt of pain and surprise and felt satisfaction.
He didn’t waste time waiting to see what would happen. Letting go of Master’s arm, he swung his fist, trying to hit anywhere that he could. Any damage he could cause was worth it. His fist connected with something, with skin, and there was the satisfying sound of the punch making contact. But then fists were striking him, coming from nowhere, all the more painful for him not being able to see them coming. That didn’t stop him from swinging, though. Hit after hit he struck, fighting like a mad thing. Everything that had been held inside was pouring out of him now. He didn’t care what he struck, didn’t care what the damage was. He didn’t even realize that he was screaming as he did.
The world suddenly disappeared around him. He was falling, just barely able to stay conscious as his body and head struck the ground underneath him. Master was on top of him, the two having fallen together somehow. Spencer didn’t care. He didn’t feel the pain. Shrieking furiously, he attacked again, giving his tormentor no time to recover from the jolting fall. Neither even heard the footsteps echoing through the upstairs of the house. They didn’t hear the voices calling out as they ran down the stairs or even as the basement door burst open. Caught up in their own battle, the two men rolled around the floor, each fighting for their life.
~~POV Switch~~
When the SUV pulled up in front of the house, their brakes squealed with the force of the stop. Four doors opened and the agents poured from the car. None of them said a word. They’d all put their vests on during the drive over. Only Aaron was strapping his down now. As a unit they moved, ignoring the cop cars that were pulling up behind them to offer backup. None of the local cops matter to them. The team was on a mission to rescue one of their own and no one was going to step in the way of that.
Aaron was the one who led the way to the front door. He took point, moving to the front door. Morgan was directly beside him, the two exchanging a silent message with their eyes before Morgan reached out and twisted the doorknob of the front door, silently swinging it open. Aaron darted in first, Morgan behind him and the others following. They cleared the living room, seeing nothing there, no threat coming at them.
Then they all heard it. A high pitched shriek echoed up from somewhere underneath their feet. Fear and anger gripped Morgan almost instantly. He knew that sound. He knew that shriek. That was Spencer.
When he moved toward the only obvious door to the basement, no one stepped in his way. Aaron moved behind him, allowing him to take point for this. Guns at the ready, the group paused outside the basement door, hearing the shrieking grow louder and louder. There was the painful sound of flesh connecting with flesh now that made bile burn the back of Morgan’s throat. He pushed that back. There was no time for this now. Spencer was still alive. They had to save him.
He nodded at Aaron, who reached out and opened the basement door. Morgan shot in first, moving down the stairs with his gun trained on the room, the order to freeze already on his lips. It never came out, though. What he saw when he reached the bottom of the staircase froze him and everyone else.
Vincent and Spencer were on the floor, a mass of arms and legs, rolling and swinging and writhing. It was hard to see where one started and the other ended. To see Vincent beating on Spencer wasn’t the surprise. Seeing Spencer swinging and kicking and fighting for all he was worth was. The kid looked like a wild thing, hitting and shrieking as he did. His voice echoed painfully around them, tearing at their hearts.
“I am not your boy!” He shrieked. They watched as one of Spencer’s fists connected with Vincent’s face. “I. Am. Spencer. Reid!” Each word was punctuated by another fist.
With a furious roar, Vincent rolled their bodies again, crashing them into a table that carried all of Vincent's tools on it. Whips and knives and various other items crashed around them. Fear, bright and hot, roared to life inside of Morgan. In a split second, he made a decision. “Cover me.” He snapped out as he holstered his gun. He couldn’t stand back and just watch this. There was no way. Moving forward, he headed straight to the pair, ready to dive in and separate them if need be. If he could just get Spencer off of Vincent, the others could take the open shot and this could be done.
But right as he got toward them, he saw Vincent’s hand land on a knife on the floor. Morgan’s blood ran cold and his world seemed to freeze for just one single second. Then he was moving faster, but not fast enough. The knife sank right into Spencer’s abdomen just as Morgan got there. Rage boiled over Morgan.
Vincent paused, triumphant, and that was all the opening that Morgan needed. His foot connected with the side of Vincent’s head and the monster’s hands released from Spencer, who dropped sideways, cradling his stomach. But Vincent was quick. He didn’t lie, stunned, as Morgan had hoped. Instead he reached once more for another knife. The sound of a gunshot filled the room and Morgan watched with intense satisfaction as Vincent snapped back to the ground, two bleeding wounds growing on his chest. A glance to the side showed JJ standing, her gun still trained on the man, a satisfied look on her face.
Everyone moved forward to deal with Vincent, which left Morgan free to do the one thing he needed to do. He moved around the bastard and straight toward Spencer.
The young man was lying on the ground, his body curled to the side and his hands over the knife. Morgan reached out to him, trying to touch his arms, but the instant skin touched skin, Spencer started to shriek and pull away.
“Spencer, Spencer!” Morgan cried. He pulled his hands back, not wanting to do anything to make him move more. There was blood everywhere, sliding from random cuts on his body, pouring from the wound on his stomach. “Spencer, sugar, it’s me. It’s Morgan. I’m here, baby. I’m right here and I’m not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you.”
He watched Spencer’s body lock down. Hair covered the young man’s face, blocking it from Morgan’s sight. But he heard the soft voice whisper “Morgan?”
“That’s right, baby. That’s right.” Now Morgan moved his hands again, hesitantly reaching forward. When he touched Spencer’s arm and his friend didn’t react, Morgan scooted even closer. “Just hold on, baby. Paramedics should be here any time. Someone had to have called them. You just hold on for me, ok?”
One of Spencer’s hands moved from his stomach, reaching toward Morgan. It made the older man ache to see the blood and bruises that marred those hands. One of the fingers looked bent wrong, as if it were broken. But Spencer sought his hand and gripped it despite the pain it must have caused to do so. “You found me.” He whispered.
“Of course we did. Garcia traced his signal. This guy was an idiot; he didn’t even hide well enough. You know baby girl, she’s damn good at what she does. She found you for us and we came for you.”
A soft whine of pain slid past Spencer’s lips and he curled his body a little tighter. Morgan wanted to scream, to curse and rant and rave. Where the hell were the medics? At the same time that he thought that, he heard footsteps echoing upstairs and then over the staircase. He heard Aaron call out “Clear room for the medics!”
“Spencer, baby, the medics are here.” Morgan brought his free hand up to smooth the hair back from Spencer’s face. “Just hold on, they’re here. You’re so strong, baby. You’re going to be fine. Just hang in there, ok? They’ll fix you right up.”
A little blood dribbled out of Spencer’s mouth as he started to cough. The cough stopped right as a group of medics dropped down beside him. “I didn’t let him win, Morgan.” Spencer wheezed out. There was a small smile on his lips. “I fought back. I didn’t let him win.”
Tears built in Morgan’s eyes, running down his cheeks in rivers. “I saw you, pretty boy. I’m so proud of you.”
“Sir, we need you to step back now.” One of the medics said. His hands were on Morgan’s shoulders, trying to pull him up and back. The older man didn’t want to let go of his friend. His love. Spencer didn’t want to let go either. His grip tightened. “Morgan.” He called over the noise. There was the sound of pain and fear in his voice. “I love you.”
Morgan squeezed his hand back. “I love you too, baby boy. I love you too.”
The fingers in Morgan’s hand suddenly went lax. With horror he watched as Spencer’s body suddenly seemed to droop into the ground. The people around him took advantage of that shock to pull him up and away from the young man that lay dying on the floor. Life didn’t return to Morgan until he heard one of the medics say “He’s lost consciousness but we’ve still got a pulse. Let’s get him out of here, now!”
Morgan was grateful for the hands that were holding him up or he would have sagged back down to the floor. He’d thought, for one split second, that Spencer had left him. But he was still alive. Still holding on.
When the paramedics got him on a gurney and maneuvered him up the stairs, Morgan broke away from his friends to follow. There was no way he was going to hop in an SUV and wait to get to the hospital. He was going to ride with them, no matter what the hell they had to say to him about it. That determination must have shown clear on his face because, when they loaded Spencer in the ambulance and Morgan moved to follow, the medics only looked at him for a second before allowing him in. No one said anything to him as he took up a spot near Spencer’s head. The doors to the back of the ambulance snapped shut.
Looking down at the face below him, Morgan felt his heart stutter. No. Sweet God, no. Moving a shaky hand, he traced his fingers over Spencer’s eyes, ignoring everything the paramedics were doing to the rest of his friend’s body. “I’d forgotten.” Morgan whispered, even though he knew Spencer couldn’t hear him. “Oh, baby, I forgot that part. I’m so sorry.”
“Sir?” one of the medics said to him in a gentle voice.
Morgan didn’t even look up. “The Unsub put superglue on his eyelids to keep them shut.” He whispered to the medic. That was the only thing he said to them. With one hand resting on Spencer’s cheek, Morgan bowed his head there in the back of the ambulance, covered in his best friend’s blood, praying they would make it to the hospital in time.
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