Hi Friends!

I know, I know...I'm already working on a story but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. Seriously, it was haunting my dreams. So if you don't mind I'm going to try to write two at once again. Please be patient for new chapters though...real life does come first.

*Disclaimer (applies to the whole story) = I do not own or make profits off of Criminal Minds. I'm just borrowing the characters because they are so awesome.

*Warnings: Just angst ahoy, swearing...maybe non-con (I haven't decided on that part yet but if I do it won't be my normal graphic stuff)

Please forgive any mistakes.

Enjoy.

Spencer slammed his hand down on the alarm clock button, hitting the snooze in an effort to elongate his sleep for another nine minutes. The funny thing about that though, was that he was never able to fall back asleep for that short span of time. Nonetheless, it always felt so good knowing that he didn't have to crack open his warm cocoon of blankets for a few more minutes.

He closed his eyes and turned away from the clock. The young man put his hands back under the fluffy comforter and brought it up underneath his chin. As he lay there in a sleepy daze he contemplated the one thing that had been on his mind so much lately, the fact that his life sucked.

Plain and simple.

Sucked.

He cringed internally at the thought of using such an uncouth word but try as he might he couldn't think of a better term to describe his pitiful existence. Sometimes he didn't even know why he bothered to stay in this world; it wasn't like there was anything worth living for anymore.

Well, that wasn't completely true. His mother was still alive and living in the sanitarium just down the road. But besides her…there just wasn't a reason to stick around. He had no friends and no other family members. He was pretty much a solitary figure in a world of over seven billion people.

And then there was his job.

Honestly, if he had to come up with a driving factor as to why his life sucked so much it would be his job.

He was stuck in a menial low paying position at the local police station, working as the captain of the Investigative Services Division's secretary. Actually, bondservant would be a more accurate job description, especially when factoring in the measly amount of money he was given at the end of each week.

The kicker to his job was the fact that the captain was well aware of the extent of Reid's intelligence and he was exploiting it to his full advantage. Unfortunately, there was nothing Spencer could do about the man's manipulations. He had no other choice but to go along with whatever the chief said, no questions, protests, or complaints allowed.

What caused the young genius to end up in such a deplorable situation?

He groaned aloud as his mind flashed back to the Friday after his father had left him alone with his mom. The ten year old had been up early, trying to fix himself some breakfast before school when the ring of the doorbell penetrated the silent house. He cautiously approached the oak door and peered through the peephole to see who was on the other side. Spencer could remember the curiosity that was sparked in his brain when he saw his next-door neighbor standing on their front porch. He opened the door and looked up at the man, taking in his dark blue uniform and shiny badge stationed on the left hand side of his chest.

How could the prepubescent boy have known that opening a door would change the course of his life forever?

The alarm started its shrill beeping once again, forcing his mind off its current path and reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for work.

Reluctantly, he pushed his covers aside and swung his legs around to the side of the bed. His feet landed on carpet that at one time had been plush and soft but was now flattened and scuffed.

His honey-brown eyes traveled the expanse of his studio apartment taking in its shabbiness with disgust. The foundational walls were cinderblock, a throwback from before this place had been renovated from a factory into low income apartments. The only source of natural light came from the window above his bed that was so small it would barely allow him to escape through it if there were ever a fire in the building. By the entrance there was a counter that had a divided sink, a mini-fridge, a coffee pot, and a hot plate. Above the sink were two cabinets that housed his dishware and below it were two more for dry storage.

Nestled in the corner next to his "kitchen" was the bathroom that contained a stand-up shower, sink and toilet; there was no room for anything else, not even a towel bar. He had to fling the one towel he owned over the top of the shower frame to help it dry every day. His living room and bedroom were separated by a worn out green couch he bought at a garage sale a few years ago. It had a few cigarette burns in the cushions and the ruffles along the bottom were frayed, but overall it was comfortable. The TV that sat across from it was pretty useless since Spencer couldn't afford to pay a cable bill. He only kept it around to help the apartment look a little less empty and on the off chance that maybe one day he'd be able to watch it again.

The only other thing that occupied the small space was his bedroom furniture which consisted of a beautiful bed frame, nightstand, and dresser. He counted himself lucky that he had been able to procure it from his mother after she had been moved to the sanitarium. sadly, it had been the only thing he had been allowed to keep before her power of attorney had an estate sale.

He ran his hand over the smooth surface and studied its design. The headboard and footboard were made out of polished Cherrywood and had elaborate designs carved into them. It was only a standard sized frame and mattress that barely housed his long limbs, there was no way he'd ever be able to fit another body next to him. Not that he could even foresee him ever needing that extra room; he was too busy working to even think about trying to date.

He let out a scornful laugh at the mere thought of dating and pushed himself up off the mattress. He pulled out his usual subdued clothes and went to shower. The warm water helped to wake him up and it flushed the traces of last night's excursions down the drain.

Reid closed his eyes as memories of the prior night flooded his brain. Redden flesh, leather, ropes, and lube flashed through his head and he shuddered. He wasn't proud of what he had to do but there wasn't a choice. He shook himself out of the memory and finished his preparations for the day.

Around 7:00 a.m. he left his abode and walked straight to the bus station. He grabbed a coffee at the small stand near the depot and boarded the 7:30 ride that took him to the main drag of Las Vegas. The streets were already inundated with tourists, some just waking up and others on their way to sleep. The heat had yet to get to its usual stifling temperature but it was already making beads of sweat appear on Reid's forehead. He wiped his brow and took a sip of his coffee. It was funny, the hot beverage shouldn't be so enjoyable in the desert heat but the genius loved it anyways.

Spencer arrived at work at 8:00 on the dot. He stood before the glass doors and took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever the day might bring once he was on the other side.

Once his brain was in the right frame of mind, closed off and unemotional, he pulled open the barrier and stepped into the precinct.

"Hey nerd!" was shouted through the office as Reid walked past the civilian section of the office and into the officers' hub.

The lanky young man trained his gaze on the ground and ignored the man's boorish comment. The genius knew that some things in his life were never going to change and the way people viewed him was one of them. One would think that police officers would be more mature and accepting of others. Hell, their jobs were to serve and protect the citizens of the city. But that didn't matter, like every other branch of society the station had its bullies and Reid was their prime target.

"You're late, Reid," shouted an annoyed voice from an office in the back. "Put your shit down and get in here."

Spencer glanced at his watch and saw that it was now 8:02. He furrowed his brow at the accusation. He had walked through the doors on time; it had just taken him two minutes to weave through the crowd to get to his desk.

Nonetheless, he did as he was told and dropped his satchel and coffee down on the hard surface. He grabbed a pen and a notepad and steadied himself before walking into the captain's office.

"Good morning, Captain Wesley," he stated soberly, keeping his gaze aimed on the abraded tile floor.

The man scoffed at the greeting. "What time are you scheduled to be here?"

"Eight o'clock, sir."

"What time is it now?"

"It's 8:03, sir."

"Exactly. When I say 8:00 that means that you are already sitting at your desk ready for work. Not walking in the door. This is unacceptable behavior, boy."

The genius was dying to argue with the man about his arrival but knew it wouldn't do any good. "I'm sorry, sir."

"I'll just subtract it from your paycheck," the man said simply.

Reid grimaced at the statement. He wasn't paid a whole lot as it was.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, where are your earnings from last night?"

Reid grabbed his wallet and pulled out the $600 he had made. He handed the money to his boss and watched as Captain Wesley counted out the bills.

"Excellent. I've put your work on your desk and I need you to get the conference room ready for the BAU. They're on their way in to help with the recent prostitute murders."

Reid shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. The murders had been going on for a while now but it wasn't until recently that anyone had bother to pay attention. Apparently the lives of the men and women selling themselves on the street weren't important until one of them turned out to be the daughter of a local politician. Now all eyes were on the LVPD, homicide division specifically, waiting to see if they could catch the serial murderer.

"Make sure when they get here you keep your mouth shut about everything you know and you will keep your head down. You're a lousy liar, boy, and I don't need them weaseling the truth out of you. So, the sooner we get them out of here the better. I've got too much shit to take care of without having to worry about them investigating this mess and you spilling the beans. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," he said meekly.

"Good. Now get to work," Wesley said, dismissing the youth.

Spencer was on his way out the door when the captain called out to him, "Oh and Spencer, you're on again tonight. I expect the same amount out of you as last night."

Reid spun around and looked up at the man with wide eyes, "But sir, I didn't get home until 3:30 this morning and I'm running on about three hours of sleep. Plus all of the files I have to –"

"Did I ask you for excuses?" the man questioned sternly.

Reid dropped his stare and said submissively, "No, sir."

"Exactly. Now you know what the consequence will be if you don't follow orders, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, I'm sure your mother would miss you if you didn't show up for your weekly visits over the next two months. Now get out of my sight," the captain said as he sat down at his own desk and picked up the phone.

Reid quickly exited the office before Wesley could add another nail to his coffin. The exhaustion he was feeling was slamming into him at full force and the thought of having to spend another night walking the streets made him feel sick.

He sat down in his squeaky chair and threw his head in his hands. God, he didn't know why he was here anymore. He'd give anything for his life to just be over.

Anyone on board?