-Well, my first attempt at hurting someone besides Spencer lol (even though Spencer's hurt too ;) ) Enjoy!-

Worst Case Scenario

1

I don't know where I am. I don't know why my body hurts so much. I don't know where the blood came from and I don't know why none of these people are asking me. They just keep walking. Some of them walk faster than others. Some see me and turn away.

I stumble through the semi-crowded sidewalk, in pain, wondering if any of these people can tell me who the hell I am. I'm scared. I'm shaking because it's cold. I don't have any shoes. I wonder where those went too.

I stared around the vast city, the night wind biting against my skin.

"HOTCH!" Someone yells behind me. "HOTCH!" I wonder who they're looking for. I turned and saw a black man running toward me. I shrunk into myself, afraid that he might hurt me.

"Hotch," the man breathed once he had reached me. I didn't know who he was talking to. I kept my eyes down, ready to run at any moment. "Hey, hey, Hotch, look at me." He put his hands on my shoulders. I jumped, whimpering a little. "Aaron." Something clicked in my head. Aaron. I'm Aaron.

"M-Morgan?"

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I'd never seen Hotch like this, never. Never this vulnerable, or this scared. This…weak. He didn't even know his own name!

His hands were covered in blood that I assumed was his own, 'cause it sure as hell looked like the rest of it was his. His clothes were torn to all hell, like they'd been ripped off and put back on again. And that was another thing that I'd never seen when it came to Hotch. His tattered clothes were remnants of pajamas.

"Aaron…" I think calling him by his first name was the weirdest part. "Hotch, what happened to you?" He shook his head.

"I don't know," he said, his voice strangled. "I don't know." He was in shock, deep in shock, but I had to try and talk to him. It was important.

"Alright, alright, it's okay. Hotch," I lifted his chin, gaining his attention again. "Hotch, where's Reid?"

"Reid?" He gulped. That confirmed my fears that he might've been drugged.

"Yes, Reid," I nodded. "He was with you, but we can't find him. Where's Reid?"

"Reid is…he was…he was asleep. In his room…" He said softly. God, he had no idea what the hell was going on.

"No, no, Hotch, he's not there," I said, shaking my head. "Is that where you saw him last?" He was thinking, I could see it. His mind was racing too fast, just like his heart.

"I don't- I didn't- He-"

"Okay, okay, it's alright, Hotch," I assured. He was shivering. I took off my jacket and draped it over his shoulders. "We're gonna get you to a hospital, alright? It's gonna be okay." Then he did something I didn't even know he was capable of. He started to cry.

He fell against me and I caught him, holding him to me. "Morgan, what's happening?"

"I…I don't know. But we're gonna find out. We're gonna find Reid, and we're gonna find out what happened to you, alright? I promise. It's gonna be okay," I assured, hugging him.

In truth, I was scared to all holy hell. What the hell was going on?

Aaron Hotchner's hotel room, New York City, New York

"That was Morgan," Emily said, closing her phone. "He found Hotch about six blocks away."

"Is he alright?" Rossi asked. J.J. looked at her hopefully.

"Not…not really. He's strong enough to walk, but Morgan said he's covered in blood and has no idea where he is or what happened to him. He didn't even remember his own name until Morgan said it," she said quietly.

"Did he know where Reid was?" J.J. asked, her eyes filled with hope once again. Emily sighed.

"The last time he saw him he was in his room. Obviously he's not there now."

The room itself wasn't disturbed much. It was the bed that was the source of concern. Handcuffs hung empty on the bedposts, bloody. The sheets were wet with blood and God only knew what else. Scuff marks decorated the floor from the bed moving.

The other point of interest was the radiator. The metal was scraped, as if someone had been tied to it and struggled. What the hell happened here none of them knew, but they understood that it wasn't good.

"Maybe whoever hurt Hotch took Reid," Rossi suggested. "He could be anywhere right now."

"We have to know what we're looking for before we can look," J.J. said pointedly, trying not to lose her head in all of this. Reid was gone, again. It wasn't necessarily déjà vu, but it was the same feeling she had the last time this had happened.

"Maybe we should wait and see if Hotch remembers anything before we look anywhere," Emily suggested.

"Either way, we'll need the profile," Rossi said. "So we might as well start now."

The two women nodded and continued looking around. J.J. shut her eyes.

God, Reid, where are you?

I could hear them talking. I knew they were looking for me. I wanted to scream and shout to tell them where I was, but the duct tape made it impossible. And I wasn't strong enough to make a sound anyway. I couldn't even move. I cried softly, wishing they would find the door disguised as part of the wall. They used it as a perk for the authenticity of the old hotel room.

The air was sticky and hot. The tape around my wrists dug painfully into my raw skin. I was still bleeding, still crying. I hoped Hotch was alright. But after…after that, I…I…

I cried harder, barely making a sound. The space I was in was small, smaller than a closet in both depth and width. It was so small I had to stand up just to fit. I had been shoved in here, left to die while my friends looked for me.

"We should head to the hospital," Emily said. No, no, no, no, DON'T LEAVE ME!

"Yeah," J.J. said. "We'll tell Morgan what we found and put out a report on the news." They were walking away, I could hear them.

Oh god, please, don't go! I tried to make a sound, any sound. To get them to hear me. But my body was too heavy for me to even try to move. I tried to scream, to speak, but all that came out was a feeble whimper.

The door closed and they were gone. My only hope, gone. I was going to die.

-Tell me what ya think!-