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Cachorro	By : hatochiisai Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 11087 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, nor do I make any financial profit off of writing this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 4

Reid sat in the corner of his dark cell, shivering in the cold. He was rocking himself when the small door at the bottom of the cell door opened, much like a dog door. A cup of water was shoved in, along with a hunk of bread.

Reid watched as the little door was closed again, and he sniffled as he heard the footsteps leaving him to his cold, dark solitude. He felt tears come to his eyes and he whimpered. He had been there for so long. He drained the cup of water and nibbled at the bread. He perked up. The bread was fresh and warm, and even had a bit of butter spread over it. But once he had finished it, he was left to face his circumstances.

He was cold, hungry and thirsty. The daily bread and water were not enough to keep him nourished and hydrated. The darkness was oppressive, and he was horribly lonely. And if his daily bread ration really WAS daily… then he had been down here for six days… He had passed the first day or so be reciting songs and poems… The third day, he began to panic, and by the fourth day he was crying.

The fifth day he progressed to screaming for hours at a time, begging someone to answer him, and when food had been brought, he tried to seize the hand that pushed it through the little dog door. The hand had jerked away quickly. Reid sobbed. He was desperate for human contact. The sixth day, he had crawled around his cell, clawing at the walls and whimpering, tugging desperately on the chain that shackled him to the wall. And today, day seven, he just sat in the corner and rocked himself, tears running down his cheeks from time to time. He did this until he fell asleep.

When he woke he just lay sprawled out across the wet floor, staring off into space. He was wet, and cold, and his head throbbed. And it was late into day seven that the door finally opened. Coronado stood there, staring down at the boy on the floor.

“Good afternoon, Cachorro.” He said, and Reid slowly lifted his head and stared at him. “You look cold.” He walked over and knelt, reaching out. He held out his hand only two inches from Reid’s cheek. The boy stared at him, then closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into the man’s hand, shuffling closer in his desperation for human contact.

“Oh, Cachorro… you’re feverish.” The man crooned softly. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes…” Reid whimpered.

“Then you should know… from now on, you will eat from my hand…” And a moment later, he was holding up a small piece of bread. Reid eyed it, then looked up and eyed Coronado. Then he leaned away. Coronado chuckled and began to stroke Reid’s hair. “Come now, Cachorro… You want to eat and drink… you wish to take a bath… perhaps lounge in the warm sun…” Reid stared at the man, eyes wide. “Perhaps experience pleasure…?” Reid gasped and threw himself into the corner when fingers teased his manhood. Coronado stared at him for a moment, then stood and walked out of the room. Reid’s eyes widened.

“N-No… wait!” He cried. Coronado stopped and turned, staring at the youth on his knees in the corner, reaching up to him. His eyes were desperately begging the man not to leave him alone again. “Please… don’t leave me…”

Slowly, Coronado turned and knelt. “Come to me, Cachorro…” He commanded in a low tone. Reid whimpered, then crawled across the rough wet floor of his cell. But two feet away from the man’s hands, the chain and his collar grew taught and he could go no further. Reid whimpered. “Come on now…” Coronado encouraged. Reid strained against the chain, and then reached out to the man. Coronado watched as the long, pale fingers slid into his own outstretched hand. They were cold as ice, and shaking. He smiled, closing his hand around the fingers. And then he leaned forward and with a soft click and a loud rattle, the chain fell to the floor and Reid lurched forwards into the man’s arms.

Coronado spoke to him softly in Spanish, cuddling him close and stroking his hair, smiling at the boy snuggling into the warmth of his arms. “Good boy…” The man said softly, and then stood. He was still holding Reid’s hand. “Come with me, Cachorro…” Slowly, Reid struggled to get to his feet. Coronado put his arm around the boy and helped him move down the hall and up the stairs. He stumbled near the top, yelping as he banged his shins. Coronado simply smiled and swept the boy up into his arms and carried him out of the basement, and then up to the second floor of the lavish hacienda.

When they reached the top, Sirena was walking out of a room. She blinked at them, and then Coronado spoke to her. She nodded and scurried into another room. Coronado followed her. They were in a large, elegant bedroom. Coronado walked over to the double doors across the way and stepped into the bathroom, setting Reid down on the counter. Red sat there, his feet dangling. Coronado stared at him for a moment, then began to check him over. He scrubbed every scrape and cut with a peroxide soaked cotton ball, and checked Reid’s nipples, making sure that the piercings were not infected.

As he did this, Sirena filled the bath tub with hot water, and put in some bath salts. Then she bowed her way out of the room and left Reid alone with Coronado. The man just lifted the youth into his arms, then turned and gently set him into the tub. Reid let out a yip as the warm water felt scaldingly hot on his cold skin. But after a moment, he managed to relax. For the first time in a week, Reid was warm, and savoring the contact with another person. Hands ran over his skin and he was gently bathed. His dirty skin, gray with smeared mud, dirt and grime, washed clean to a nice smooth creamy tone.

Every time Coronado found a scar he would trace it with a finger tip and look at Reid, as if silently requesting a story about how Reid got it. But the boy was lounging in the water with his eyes closed, so he never saw the looks. And Coronado would simply smile and move on.

When the bath was finished, Reid was lifted out and set on the floor. The man rubbed him dry with a soft towel, then carried him back into the bedroom. He crossed the room and Reid gasped at a warm breeze as Coronado stepped out onto the terrace. He looked down at the boy in his arms, who was hiding his face in his chest after being locked in the dark for a week.

“Open your eyes, Cachorro.” He said. Slowly, Reid turned his head and did as he was told. He turned, and looked out over the edge of the balcony. “Welcome home.” The man said, and Reid’s eyes widened and he stared. Across the sprawling grounds of the estate was a cream colored wall. And just on the other side of the wall was the Amazon Rainforest. A flock of scarlet macaws had decided to roost just there on the other side of the wall, and the ruckus they were making would be deafening were you amongst them… But Reid found himself unable to look away from the brilliant colors.

Coronado smiled as he watched the boy’s lips part as he gaped at the view. The river sparkled off to the left, and the sun peeked through the clouds that were threatening to soak the jungle as they constantly did.

“Beautiful, no?” Coronado asked, and Reid slowly nodded. Coronado turned and sat the boy down on the ground before taking a seat in the plush covered deck chair. Reid sat on the floor beside him, and closed his eyes lightly as a gentle hand stroked down his head and neck, and then down his back. These long strokes continued and Reid drew in a shakey breath.

I am Dr. Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigation of the United States of America. He mentally recited to himself. I have an IQ if 187, an eidetic memory and I can read 20’000 words per minute. I am the son of William and Diana Reid. I was born in October of 1981. My mother is a professor of 15^th century literature and is a paranoid schizophrenic. My father left us when I was ten. I graduated High School at age twelve and then college at sixteen… I had three PhD’s at nineteen… I entered the FBI Academy at 21 and Gideon brought me straight into the BAU on graduation. My best friends are Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss. Jason Gideon and David Rossi are friends and mentors. And my Unit Chief is Aaron Hotchner. He is my boss, my friend, my… my everything. And I love him. And I am playing the part of Cachorro so that I can get back to him… and spend the rest of my life with him.

Finished with his recitation, Reid let out a relaxed sigh, and felt more like himself again. He smiled slightly, nuzzling into the hand stroking his head. That’s it… pet the puppy… He mentally chuckled. The puppy’s gonna be eating from your hand… and you don’t know it, but I’m gonna have you eating from mine.

Hotch strode out of his office. “Team. Round table room. Now.” He said, and the team leapt after him. Once there, they watched Hotch pacing back and forth. A moment later, Strauss walked in with a man by her side, carrying a case.

“Agent Hotchner.” She said, and the man walked to meet her.

“You said you have information for us?” Hotch asked.

She looked at the man that came with her. The man nodded and set the case on the table and opened it. The team stared. It was the clothes that Reid had been wearing when he was abducted, wrapped up in evidence bags. And a video tape. Rossi took it at a nod from Strauss, and a moment later the team was watching security footage.

“This was taken at an airport not far from where Coronado’s ship docked.” Strauss said. A truck pulled in with a large dog crate in the bed. The door to the car before it opened and Coronado stepped out. “Our guess is that Agent Reid is in there.” Strauss said, pointing at the dog crate. “But we don’t have a visual…”

“Give me thirty seconds.” Garcia said, and plopped down at her computer and began tapping away. The team watched as the view zoomed in, and then the image began to slowly enhance… she tweaked the contrast and coloring, and sharpened it up. And moment by moment, they began to get a clearer view.

“Oh my God…” JJ gasped.

“… There.” Garcia said. She sighed. “We don’t have a face, but…”

“It’s him.” Hotch growled, looking at the blurry view of a slender body curled up within the crate, face tucked into knees.

“They boarded a plane that headed southeast.” Strauss said. “According to TA Garcia, he has a home southeast in Buenos Aires. But sources confirm that it’s empty. But I have arranged discreet surveillance of all the locations TA Garcia uncovered. We will know the moment Arturo Coronado is spotted.”

“… Thank you.” Hotch said.

“If there’s anything else I can do…” The Section Chief said.

“I’ll let you know. But I appreciate what you have done.” Hotch said with a nod. She sighed.

“I only wish I could have done more. Agent Reid suffered enough at the hands of this man. He shouldn’t have to go through it again.”

“… He’s strong.” Rossi said, and folded his arms. Strauss looked at him. “Reid will make it.” Strauss nodded, and she and the man with her left. Hotch sighed and Rossi laid a hand on the Unit Chief’s shoulder. “He’ll make it, Aaron.”

Reid looked up when Paloma emerged onto the terrace, bearing a tray. She laid this down on a small table next to Coronado.

“Thank you, Paloma.” The man said. She smiled and moved away, but stayed close by in case he needed anything. “Come now, Cachorro. It is time to eat.” Reid looked up at him. He was holding out a slide of banana. Reid winced inwardly. He did NOT want to let the man have it his way… he most certainly did NOT want to eat from his hand. But he also didn’t want to be tossed into that cold cell again… he could very well catch his death. And he WAS starving.

It’s all to get home… He told himself, then leaned forwards and nibbled at the food in the man’s fingers. He moaned in delight at the creamy taste of the banana on his tongue after having nothing but bread and water for a week. He was ravenous, and ate the slice of papaya he was given next, even going so far as lick the juice from the man’s fingertips. Coronado chuckled, then turned and offered Reid a glass. Reid reached for it, and Coronado moved it away. Reid looked at him, then bowed his head and lowered his hands into his lap. Coronado offered the glass again. Reid leaned forward and the man tilted it. Reid closed his eyes as he sipped at the orange juice, hardly flinching when it stung his cracked lips.

“See how docile he is now?” Coronado said to Paloma, who snorted. “Do not be jealous, my dear.” The man chuckled.

“I don’t see what you find appealing about him.” She said. Coronado smiled, giving Reid a cracker, and then a little mug of a simple broth.

“No more, Cachorro.” He said when the young man looked at him expectantly. “We do not want you to get sick. Now come.” And he stood and walked inside. Reid blinked, then followed. Paloma watched him go, looking him up and down with a sneer.

“He’s scrawny and sickly.” She announced. “WHAT is so appealing about him?”

“Just because he didn’t grow up in the jungle used to manual labor doesn’t mean he’s not appealing.” Coronado laughed. “He grew up in the city, working to develop other skills. He is a genius. And he is different. That is one of the things I find appealing… He’s so different from you and the others.” He stopped by the bed, and Reid’s eyes immediately widened. His heart began to pound against his ribs. “Come now, Cachorro. You should take a nap.” And then he gestured to the floor beside the bedside table. Reid looked. A large pet bed sat there, and he winced. But after a moment, he crawled into the large pet bed that would easily fit a Mastiff or Great Dane. A chain was fastened to the wall and Coronado clipped it to Reid’s collar, and then covered him with a blanket. He stroked the boy’s hair, then turned.

“… I think you just got him for an ego boost.” Paloma said, suddenly. Coronado blinked at her. “You got him because he works for the American Government. And when they took him back, you were humiliated.”

“I was robbed.” Coronado growled.

“You don’t care about what he looks like. You only care because he’s an FBI Agent. It gives you a sense of heightened power.”

“Paloma. You are swimming in dangerous waters…” Coronado growled. She froze, then lowered her eyes.

“I am sorry…” She murmured, and Coronado nodded. Then the two left the room. Reid sighed. The air was thick with the sounds and smells of the rainforest, and few minutes later, thunder rolled over the house and he could hear the rain begin to fall. He lifted his head and stared out at the drops falling onto the terrace. After a bit, his vision blurred and his eyes fell closed. He curled up under his blanket, finally warm and comfortable for the first time in a week. And with a small content croon, he fell asleep.

Penelope Garcia sighed and prepared to head home. The rest of the team had already left, ordered to get some sleep… but on her way out, she saw a light on in Hotch’s office. Frowning, she headed up the stairs and peered into the room. The man was sitting at his desk, staring down at something. His forehead was braced on the cradle that his thumb and forefinger made up, and his palm and fingers obscured his face from her view.

“… Sir?” Garcia called softly. There was no response. Biting her lip for a moment, she walked across the room and stood before his desk. From her vantage point above him, she was able to look down and see what he was holding. It was a scrap book. A familiar scrap book… it was the scrap book Reid had given the man for Christmas. And apparently Hotch had been adding to it; as he slowly turned the page, Garcia saw that the later pages were covered in photographs of Reid. In one, the boy was lying in bed and his chest was bare, and the sheets covered him from stomach down. He was pink in the face and grinning as he laughed, and his hand clutched a pillow which was in mid swing. Garcia could tell that less than a second after this photo had been taken, Hotch had been walloped in the head by said pillow. The image made her smile.

Then her eyes drifted and she took in several other photos scattered over the pages as Hotch turned them, many of which she recognized as having been taken by various team members over the years. One was of Reid sleeping on the jet, JJ snoozing beside him, her head on his shoulder. Another was Reid looking at Rossi with an excited expression on his face while the elder Agent was giving him a look that plainly said ‘… Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?!’

Yet another was of Morgan, Reid and Garcia… Morgan had Reid in a headlock and Garcia was holding a balloon over Reid’s head. The boy’s hair was standing up thanks to the static. Another was of Reid, again asleep on the jet, and Elle was grinning and sticking a pretzel stick into his open mouth.

Several others she didn’t recognize… One was of Reid curled up in bed, fast asleep. Another was him at his desk at home, looking up and offering the camera a gentle smile. His hair was pulled back at the base of his neck in a pony tail, but his bangs hung loose, framing his face. Yet another was of Reid curled up on the sofa with a book in his lap and a Siamese cat on his chest, the cat clearly having jumped there unannounced and stuck her nose into his face, making him laugh. And another was a shot of Hotch and Reid from the necks up, their heads together, cheek to cheek and grinning. Judging by the position of Reid’s shoulder, Reid had held out the camera and snapped the shot himself.

Garcia sighed, and Hotch snapped his head up. His eyes were bloodshot and watery. She just looked at him. Slowly, he echoed her sigh and laid the scrap book down, staring at the collection of images before him.

“… How could I let this happen to him?” He finally gasped, and raised his eyes again. Garcia’s eyes widened and she stared at the lost look in the man.

“… Hotch…” She breathed, softly. “You didn’t. You would never LET this happen to him. Any more than you would have LET Henkel kidnap him or LET him get anthrax or LET Shane Harvey hurt him or…” She trailed off. Hotch stared at her in despair as she listed all of those times he had failed to protect his lover.

“Any more than you would have let me or Elle get shot, or… or… Hotch… you can’t protect EVERY one from EVERY thing. You do the best you can, sir. And you do a phenomenal job of taking care of Reid and ALL of us.” She sighed as he looked down at the photos, and she felt tears run down her face. She reached out and placed her hands on his cheeks and lifted his face.

“Sir…” She said with a smile. “You protect him with all you have. And you support and most importantly… you LOVE him. And you make him happy. And you will get him back and help him recover. And THAT is what matters to him. You will NEVER abandon him.” And she stepped closer and gave the man a much needed hug. Hotch sighed and closed his eyes, slowly relaxing.

“… Thank you, Penelope.” He whispered. She smiled.

“You’re very welcome, sir.” Garcia said, and stood back as Hotch finally stood and looked down at her.

“What would we ever do without you?”

“Wish to have me back?” Garcia offered cheerfully.

“… Yeah.”

“Well, I’m gonna go take care of Reid’s plants and cats and fish before I head home. You should go home, sir. You need to sleep.”

“Thank you, Penelope. I will. Good night.”

“Good night, sir.” Garcia said, and slipped out of his office and left the man alone in the BAU. Hotch sighed, slowly moving to sit at his desk, staring down at the photos again.

Fifteen minutes later, his phone rang. He frowned and answered.

“Garcia? Wait wait… Garcia, please… Spencer’s door? What’s on Spencer’s-- Calm down, Penelope… Okay… now tell me what’s wrong…”

Reid was woken by a large, strong hand stroking up and down his spine.

“Mmmmmnnnn…” He groaned, stretching and arching into the touch. Then he opened his eyes and looked up, and stared into the rugged, handsome face of Arturo Coronado.

“Good morning, Cachorro.” The man greeted. Reid blinked, then winced and leaned away. Coronado frowned. “Cachorro…” He growled in a warning tone.

“… What?!” Reid snapped after a moment.

“Is there a reason for your attitude?” Coronado demanded.

“You woke me up…” Reid grumbled. “I was dreaming.”

“What were you dreaming about?”

“… I dreamed that I was home.” Reid hissed, glaring at the man. Coronado blinked, but then his eyes flashed and he seized a handful of Reid’s hair and dragged him out of his little pet bed, removing the chain from his collar. Reid whimpered and stumbled after the man as he was dragged from the room and down the stairs.

“AGUILO!!! JAGUAR!!!” Coronado shouted, and Reid heard the answering shouts. The two young men appeared rather quickly, following them. Reid whimpered as his hair was jerked again, but then his eyes widened… they were heading for the cellar.

“N-No…” He gasped, and began struggling. “NO!!! Please!!!” He cried, but he was dragged down the stairs. The coldness of the place was already beginning to seep into his limbs, and he was immediately feeling smothered by the darkness. This time, he was dragged to another room. Coronado released his hair and Reid stared at the room in horror. Sitting in the middle of it was a large chair with restraints on it, much like an electric chair. But on the seat of it stood a large, black dildo. Reid’s heart began to pound. He would have tried to run, but Aguilo and Jaguar took hold of his arms.

“No…” He whimpered, then gasped as he was bent over a table in the corner. He thrashed and struggled against the strong hands holding him, and screamed at them to let him go, but it was no use. A moment later, his legs were kicked apart and a hand slipped between his thighs and fondled him before equipping him with a horrifyingly familiar cock ring; six rings ran up the length of his penis, a wire strung between them. Then fingers worked their way between his buttocks and smeared a generous amount of lubrication over his entrance.

“Please!” He begged as he was dragged towards the chair and spun around. Coronado stared the boy in the eye, no amount of pity in his own orbs as his captive was made to sit upon the chair. Eyes closed in a pained grimace and the boy let out cry as he was forced down, the large phallus stabbing deep into his body. His wrists and ankles were strapped to the arms and legs of the chair, a strap wrapped around his torso just beneath his pectorals, and another around his forehead. Then he was silenced by another familiar object… a tongue-shaped gag.

He closed his eyes briefly, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall, before staring at Coronado. “This will end when you learn how to speak to me, Cachorro.” Coronado told him. Then there was an audible click and Reid let out a startled cry when the sex toy embedded within him began to writhe and vibrate, massaging his inner walls. He threw his head back and strained against the straps binding him, while his manhood began to swell in pleasure, the cock ring growing tighter around him.

“I’m sure you remember this routine.” Coronado said, fastening a pair of clamps onto Reid’s nipples, making the boy yelp in pain as they closed around the flesh that was pierced. A moment later, there were two small clicks, and Reid let out a sob as the clamps and the rings running up his length began to vibrate and the tongue gag in his mouth began to move realistically.

He jumped at the hand that touched his cheek. He opened his eyes and locked gazes with Coronado. The man just stared at him and he stared back, pleading silently.

“This will not end until you beg your master for it…” The man hissed. Reid’s eyes widened in a look of horror and defiance. Coronado chuckled. “Later then.” And he turned and walked towards the door, Jaguar and Aguilo following. They were speaking softly to one another, and then both looked back over their shoulders at Reid. Jaguar smirked after a moment and muttered something to Aguilo, gesturing towards the young agent. Aguilo’s eyes widened in surprise, he eyed Reid up and down, and then both young men burst out laughing.

“Alright, enough!” Coronado chuckled, and shooed the two slaves out of the room. He stared at Reid for a moment before smirking and closing the door. Once again Reid was left in complete darkness. The only sound his ears could pick up were the buzzing of the sex toys and his own sobs and moans. After a few minutes, he stopped fighting and allowed his tears to fall…

Penelope Garcia moved around Reid’s loft. She fed his kittens, fed his fish and watered his plants. Throughout the whole routine, she kept glancing at a piece of paper on the coffee table. The paper that she had found on her baby’s front door…

Once she was done, she found herself staring down at it. Meowing, the cats jumped onto the sofa, begging for the woman’s attention. Slowly, she sat down and cuddled them close. A moment later, tears began to fall down her face as she stared at the big, bold letters on the paper.

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Cachorro