Hey everyone, here is a new story for you all that I got into my head and had to get done. I just want everyone to note that the one shot I just posted and this got written about a month apart from each other. This features Non con and abuse and it's rated M for a reason. I'm writing this as I want to explore a much more volatile and emotional aspect to this area of writing. Enjoy and I look forward to hearing from you all. I'm also posting chapter two straight after to make up for disappearing from here for two weeks. I would appreciate if you could review chapters separately as it helps me when I'm looking at all your comments.

Oh and there is no Blake in this and no new team member.

WARNING - non con and abuse but this won't be as graphic as before, I've kind of left it to your imagination.

Enjoy and please review

All mistakes are my own

He closed his eyes and whimpered as it finished, the hand that had pinned his wrists during the horrible assault that he knew would forever changed his life held his wrists even tighter. The hand that had held his hip now stroked through his hair, a muffled sob made its way past the cloth his attacker had stuffed in his mouth.

"Don't cry, Dr Reid," the man said before moving his hand down and stroking Reid's cheek. "I never knew what a prize I had till I checked your wallet. I enjoyed our time together and I know I'll be in your dreams for the rest of your life. I knew you were the next one when you left that coffee shop today."

His attacker pulled the cloth from his mouth and threw it to the floor, Reid let out another small cry before letting out a shaky breath as he tried to keep hold of his sanity. "Why?" he quivered.

"I see a prize and I have to take the treasure inside," his attacker said from behind his mask. Reid struggled as the man produced a syringe from his pocket and removed the protective cap. "You have to sleep for the next part."

"No please," Reid cried before struggling under the man's body. "Please, just go, I won't tell anyone."

He let out a small yelp as he felt the sharp sting of the needle piercing his arm, his vision blurred and he laid his head on the floor as the drug quickly ran through his system. As he closed his eyes and fell under the drug's spell, he wondered if he would ever wake up again.

Garcia walked in with a fresh wave of happiness to keep her going for the rest of the week, walking into the BAU required a bright outlook on life to combat all the darkness they met. She was a little late because of traffic but looked forward to seeing everyone.

"There's my baby girl," Morgan smiled as he came and walked with her to the bullpen. "You're a little late."

"I hit traffic on the way in and then some stupid woman decided to slam on her brakes in front of me. How was your weekend?"

"It was good. Nice, quiet and I spent it with Savannah. After all the work we've had, it was nice to just relax and not have to worry."

They walked into the bullpen to see everyone getting some coffee except Hotch and Reid. "Where's Reid?" he asked as he made his way over.

"He isn't in yet," JJ answered.

"He's never late," Garcia mused before grabbing a mug and pouring herself some coffee. "Has anyone called him?"

"I think Hotch is doing it now," Rossi said.

An hour earlier

Awareness crept back into his mind as he felt warmth around his body, he tried to open his eyes but winced at the horrible pain that came through one, he attempted to open them again to find that one was swollen shut. He rose up from the bed and began to shake as he remembered the night before. Confusion came over him as he brought the cover away, he realized he was in his bed with a t-shirt on and some pyjama trousers, pulled them down to find no blood from the night before. Blood that he had felt during every movement. He hissed and groaned at the pain running through his body as he got up, he ignored it as much as he could as he rushed to check every room, closet and area someone could hide. After finding nothing, he went to the front door and pulled across all the locks. He leaned against the door and slid to the floor as everything hit him at once.

Spencer Reid. Genius, son, Federal agent, godfather and now a rape victim.

He let the tears fall and struggled to keep the images of the night before out of his head, all he could hear was his rapist's voice in his ear, telling him what a prize he was. He jumped when a shrill came through his apartment, he gently got up and breathed through the pain as he grabbed his cellphone. It was Monday and he was late for work, Hotch was calling him. He answered the phone. "H-Hello," he said shakily before taking a deep breath.

"Spencer, you're late for work and I've never known you to be late," Hotch said.

There was no way he could go into work, they would know what had happened and they would think he was weak again. "I-I can't come into work today, Hotch."

"Why not? Are you okay?"

"I think I picked up something when I went out to the library on Saturday, I've got a fever and I'm being sick," Reid lied. "I don't think I'll be in for the next few days. I'm really sorry, I just don't want to make you all sick too."

"It's perfectly normal to get sick, Reid. Take a few days and get yourself better, I'm sure we can survive a few days without statistics. Call us if you need anything."

"I will and tell the others I'll see them when I'm better. I don't want them to see me like this, it's not pretty."

"They'll understand," Hotch spoke down the phone to him. "Go back to bed, drink plenty of water and get some sleep. We'll see you in a few days."

"Thanks, Hotch," Reid said. "Bye."

He disconnected the call and held the phone in his hand for a few minutes. The team could never know about this, he couldn't let them see how dirty he had become. Going to his satchel, he pulled out his gun and made sure it was definitely loaded. Something caught his eye, he reached into his satchel and brought out a white envelope that didn't belong there. Slowly, he opened it and brought out a Polaroid picture, a picture of another man whom had been badly beaten and was unconscious. Turning it over, he found the number six on the back.

Everyone gathered in the BAU room, Garcia walked up the screen and focused on the empty chair that Reid wasn't sitting in. "Is he sure he's okay?" Garcia asked.

"He's just got a sickness bug, he's taking it easy at home and he'll be back in a few days. Let's start the briefing."

The rest of the team looked at her, ready for the information. "We have a serial rapist in Virginia and he's local, as in all his attacks have been within twenty miles. Local PD have asked for help. They aren't sure about who the first victim of this unsub was but after one of the victims came to them, they made an appeal and found out four other victims existed. All attacked in their homes, raped and beaten."

"He's attacking them in their homes, that's brazen," Rossi commented. "We have six men but the first remains hidden. Why didn't they come forward with the others?

"Could be scared? The others only came forward after the appeal and the promise of police protection," Morgan said.

"He's taking away their sense of safety and comfort," JJ added. "We're supposed to feel safe in our homes and for the unsub's victims, that safety is now gone. It shows he's possessive too."

"He also has a trademark," Garcia spoke again. "He left each victim with a Polaroid picture, in that picture was the previous victim with their number written on the back. The only one not to have a picture was victim number two. His Polaroid just had an image of an eye on it along with number one on the back. He's struck six times in the last two weeks. We need to get this guy. Why is he leaving the pictures?"

"He's taunting his victims and telling them that they aren't his first, he's also telling them that he's gotten away with it once and he can get away from it again. This unsub knows that it's unlikely the men would go to the police. Look at the statistics on rape, especially with men. Only a small amount actually report it happening," JJ said.

"Boy genius would know the exact statistic," Garcia said sadly, she hated Reid being sick, all it did was make her worry.

"It says here that the victims woke up to find themselves cleaned and in new clothing, no forensic evidence in or on their body. Blood from the attack was also cleaned up," Rossi observed.

"He's organized," Morgan said. "Very organized although it seems he only cleans up anything we could use to find him."

"Garcia, I want you to do background checks on all the victims, I want to see if they have anything or anyone in common, also I want you to check and see if anyone got admitted into the ER with signs of sexual assault two weeks ago. Actually, make it three. The rest of us are going to meet with local police and check the latest crime scene. I want to catch this unsub before he claims a seventh victim," Hotch ordered.

He felt numb as he laid on his bed with his gun firmly in his hand, his wet hair soaked the pillow his head was laid upon but he didn't care. In one night, he had become a shell, someone had broken into his home and taken something from him that had never been theirs to take. He didn't need to go to the hospital, he had two broken ribs but he could manage them. His face had taken most of the beating, his left eye had swollen shut with a dark vicious bruise covering the area around it and he had a bruised jaw and split lip. Bruises in the shape of hands marred his wrists and his hips along with a lot of other bruising over his body. What worried him the most was not knowing what had happened during his time unconscious. It was clear he'd been cleaned and dressed, his attacker had even cleaned up the broken glass from the struggle and the blood from when he had lost and been subjected to hell.

He didn't have the energy to cry anymore but he couldn't fall asleep. If he fell asleep, he left himself weak and vulnerable, he wouldn't let the bastard hurt him again.

Night

Garcia yawned as she laid on the bed in her apartment, everyone had gotten sent home after they had hit some dead ends with the case, no forensic evidence had been left and all the victims had been able to tell them that the unsub was wearing a mask. She thought about giving Reid a call but changed her mind after seeing the clock. She hoped he was all tucked up in bed watching Doctor Who.

Matt Johnson walked into his home, tired after working his shift at the bar and having to deal with drunks most of the night. As he checked his mail, he felt something was off. He let out a muffled scream as a hand came over his mouth and threw him to the floor.

"Another treasure," he heard his attacker speak.

Please review