Warnings: alludes to child abuse, blood.

It had all happened so suddenly. One moment they had all been together, running through a sea of shipping crates with guns at the ready, and then with a sharp, stinging pain in the back of his thigh, he was down. Everyone else was moving further and further away, until there was nothing but darkness.

As he awoke, the darkness remained. A thick and all-consuming closeness that suffocated him. Solid black, without the relief of any lingering shadows, or distant hints of light.

"Are you blindfolded too, Spence?"

"Yeah." His throat was already dry. The hitch of breath and the slight quiver in his voice would betray him to even the most junior of profilers.

"Don't worry," JJ said. Her own voice was completely calm. "They'll come."

"I know."

His hands were tied behind his back and the rope beginning to cut off circulation to his wrists, but the pain was a welcome distraction. His back was arched and aching, and he had to force his head into the pole they were tied to, just to keep upright. Every time he moved, JJ would have to change position too. He kept accidentally slamming his head into hers - and in to the pole - as he wiggled and shifted. He had long ago deduced that they were well-restrained, but he had to do something to make himself feel less hopeless.

"Try and relax." JJ told him.

He didn't respond, his rough breathing the only sound in the silent, dark room.

The steps were simple - breathe deep, understand it's all in your head, know you're not in any immediate danger - but knowing the steps and putting them in to practise in a situation where it wasn't all in his head, and he was in danger, were two very different things. Different from sharing a room with Morgan and knowing he couldn't leave a light on; from going through a tunnel on the train. He could die. JJ could die. The rest of the team could already be dead. And it was dark. So, so dark.

"JJ."

Each breath he took grew more and more difficult, as if the darkness around him has risen, choking him.

I can't breathe.

There was humming. Calming, and gentle in his ear. Spencer realized his head had fallen on to JJ's shoulder, but he kept it there for the moment, his body depleted.

"Have you had a panic attack before?" JJ asked. She trod lightly.

He gave no response.

"I know you're awake."

Spencer pulled himself from JJ and returned his head to the pole.

"Yes. Never that bad."

"Are you feeling any better now?"

"I need to use the restroom."

Under normal circumstances JJ would laugh and roll her eyes with a "typical Spence", but she didn't. She was starting to get worried, too. It had been hours, and no one had come.

"They'll be here soon."

They sat in silence. Spencer continued to fidget, trying to get his hands untied, if only to undo his blindfold. He had managed to shift one of the ropes around his stomach up slightly, but now it was wrapped around his chest, crushing him.

"Where are they?" His voice was raspy now, failing. He pictured Garcia's sparkly orange glasses, Hotch's red tie, the light on Morgan's wristwatch, the decapitated child he had seen during his first week at the BAU and pushed to the back of his mind for years - desperate for anything but darkness.

"Morgan's gonna bust down the door any minute now. You don't have to worry, Spencer. Really. They know where we are."

No they don't.

"It's dark."

"I know."

Spencer's head had found it's way back on to JJ's shoulder. She didn't seem to mind, and he was so drained of energy, he couldn't physically hold it up at such an awkward angle anymore.

"Do you think he's watching?" Spencer asked. "What do you think he's going -"

"Shh." JJ cut him off.

Spencer understood, and nodded against her neck. He felt her shift, and decided he should move. His head went back and struck the pole, sending a wave of pain through his head and down his spine.

"Put your head back, Spence."

Dazed, his head went instead, into JJ's temple. She cursed, he felt like crying.

"I need to use the bathroom." Spencer repeated, through the growing lump in his throat. Stress had sent his whole system into overdrive. "I can't be here."

JJ pressed her forehead again his, softly.

"Don't think about the darkness." She said, her voice was still as smooth and inviting as always, the same voice that has soothed him for ten weeks after Emily, for a year after Maeve. "Follow my breathing."

In. Out. In. Too dark. In.In.

In.

IN.

This time, it was hopeless. Nothing could help him when it was this dark.

"I wanted to get out." Spencer said, he could feel tears starting, the blindfold soaking them up and the material sticking to his eyes. "Couldn't get the door open."

"What?"

The words started to spill out before he knew what he was admitting to. "When he was done with me - if he hurt me to bad - he would lock me in the closet and start on her."

Spencer clenched his teeth, trying to suppress the sobs that threatened the break from his chest, and to stop the memories from taking over completely. Memories that lay dormant in the back of his head, just waiting. Waiting for a sudden power cut, for the theatre to go dark before the movie started, for his nightlight to unexpectedly run out of battery in the middle of the night and for him to awake to the terror of a pitch black, empty room.

"I knew he did the same thing to her. Then he would leave. For days, sometimes, and she would forget I was still in there."

He felt his body tense, this time with anger. Towards his father, his mother, and towards all the child protection workers that visited their house again and again and didn't do a damn thing to stop what was happening.

"She forgot me for three days!" He all but screamed. "I was bleeding and I didn't know..." He trailed off. He didn't want JJ to know any more.

"I was so scared of him. Of that closet."

Spencer choked, trying to calm himself.

"I'm still scared."

JJ didn't know what to say. To find out that Spencer's neglectful, piss-poor excuse for a father had also been abusive - and had managed to scar his son so deeply - left her speechless, and made her sick.

"That's terrible, Spencer." She said, feeble. "Anyone would be scared."

"I couldn't stop him." Spencer rambled on. "Couldn't help her."

"He can't hurt her any more, or you."

"He still - - every time I close my eyes - and when it's dark -"

Then Spencer abruptly stopped. A distant crash catching his attention, and the possibility of rescue and light easily becoming the most important thing. He lifted his head, peering through blackness.

"Spencer?"

Scraping.

His name.

A gunshot.

Hands on his face.

Then light.

"Kid, you okay?" Morgan was kneeling beside him, working his binds while Blake took care of JJ's. Spencer nodded, fiercely wiping at his face and hoping his squinting at the brightness of the sudden light, would cover up his tears.

"Jayje?"

"Yeah." She answered, but her eyes were locked on Spencer. "Yeah we'll be fine."

The Unsub was dead. He had wanted JJ and Reid specifically, but for something Hotch decided they were better off not knowing about.

Spencer sat alone in the back of the SUV, eyes fixed on the Starbucks cup in his shaky hands. He looked up when the door suddenly opened, and JJ scooted in beside him.

"Are you feeling better?

"Yes," He said without looking up. "Hotch gave me some chocolate. Did you know chocolate's good for -"

"Spence." JJ interrupted him. "I think we should get you some help, you can't keep -"

Spencer suddenly perked up, and looked JJ right in the eye, his face entirely unreadable. "I'm fine." He said smoothly. "Actually, if you don't mind, I need to get out." He gestured for JJ to move, but quickly lost patience and climbed over her instead.

"I'm not trying to -" She started, but Spencer had found Rossi and Hotch standing next to the ambulance. JJ watched as he fixed a big grin on to his face - his usual expression, she realized, and she wondered how long he had spent pretending everything was fine.

"Spencer." She tried again, but he didn't look back. JJ leaned against the SUV, watching him go.

Sad, but I hope you liked it, please leave a review :)