Disclaimer: Criminal minds is not mine...

25. Everything

His body hurt, but his tears would not fall. He wasn't even sure he wanted to cry anymore. Everything was dark, but, he had grown used to the darkness. It shielded him from the horrors he didn't want to see. It was warm, dry. He couldn't feel the rain, or the restraints. Maybe he had died. A final escape from the torture he had known.

Voices surrounded him, low, soft, sad. A circle of protection, whispering and feeling. He had never been able to

sense others emotions before, to outright feel the pain and worry emanating from his friends. His friends?

Slowly, carefully, his eyes fluttered open. At first they did not see. His fingers twitched as he tried to move his hands, and all of their eyes moved to him. It was a bit awkward, all of them looking down on him, but comforting. But, was this real? He thought he had died, he had felt the air die in his lungs as the rain soaked through him.

"Hotch…" He said softly, shaking his head as he tried to think.

"It's okay now, Spencer." He said softly.

"How are you feeling?" Gideon asked, looking through the confusion in Reid's eyes straight to the pain. He was hurting inside, remembering.

Reid winced, not wanting to discuss the hurt inside of himself as he scanned the outer injuries. "Sore." He said quietly.

They nodded, knowing he would not want to discuss what had happened, or how it was making him feel. None of them did. They were all being haunted by memories, whether their eyes were open, or closed. They could still fell the cold, musty air of the house, the chains. They could smell the decay, everything. The fear, the hate, everything was still so strong.

Looking at Reid, bruised and frightened hurt them deeply. He was the epitome of what they had been through. He had suffered more then anyone should have to. And for what? They had each asked themselves in the privacy of their minds. To sate the need of a deranged man? A man who wanted nothing more then to have back what he had destroyed. That creature had a broken nose, that creature would never suffer enough for any of them to feel justice. They all wanted to hurt the creature who had done this to them, despite their pity, because he had hurt them, had nearly killed Reid, and to let it go was killing them.

"Guys?" Reid asked, looking up to them, seeing that they were hiding about as much as he was.

"You should rest…" JJ said, trying not to stare into his hurting eyes, at the bruises on his skin.

Everyone except Hotch and Gideon slowly made their way out of the room, terrified of what could happen the moment they stopped watching over him. They had left him once, and then all of this had happened, so what would happen the next time any of them were alone?

Reid stared up at them, uneasy and unsure. Why hadn't they gone with the others? It wasn't that he didn't want them around, no, he wanted to see all of them as much as possible to know that they were okay. But, he wanted to be alone, to let himself deal with what his mind was reminding him of. He remembered all of it, and so did his body. Everything about the experience was written into his being, and he didn't think there was an eraser strong enough to rid him of it.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, tears flowing despite his efforts to hold them in.

Hotch and Gideon turned toward him, hurting at the sight of those tears. There was nothing for him to be apologizing for.

"Reid," Hotch said, moving forward and sitting beside him. "you did nothing wrong."

Gideon stood to his other side, his usually calm eyes were sad, tired. "It's all over, Reid. Everything will be fine."

He shook his head, they didn't understand, either that or they did not want to say it. But this was his fault. "Nothing is fine," His voice was a whisper. "This all happened because I didn't fight enough the night he was in my apartment. He got to all of you because he got to me so easily."

"Reid," Gideon tried, but Reid was trembling, trying to hold back more tears.

"Even in that house," He shuddered, remembering. "If it hadn't been for me, you all would have been able to fight him off more easily, rather then worry." He looked at the bruises on Hotch's face, remembered everyone's fear, their cries. "I'm so sorry."

Hotch moved forward and took Reid into his arms, feeling his hot tears soak through his shirt, his trembles shook them both. He had been through too much, and Aaron had no idea how he was going to bounce back. How were any of them going to move around this? Past it?

.-.-.-.-

Where were they? He screamed into his mind, cowering in the corner. He needed them, he was scared, alone. The darkness was chasing him, slowly creping in suspenseful malevolence. Painful memories, broken tears. He needed light, he needed his family.

He pressed against the wall, wishing that he could become it, anything to stay away from the ever approaching shadows. Those shadows were his fears, everything that had ever hurt and loved him. Everything that he wanted, yet feared.

There were no sedatives. That was the problem, that was why he could not escape the evil. He needed to be free of reality. A shudder. What was reality? Reality had restricted him to this room, made him an animal to be studied. It had taken him from his home, from the house he could never escape.

The door to that house stared at him from the opposite corner, he couldn't get in. He screamed, nonsensical rambling of frustration and anger. He needed to go home, he needed to put the hearts back with their bodies, to remove his and lay with the others in the cellar. Damnit! Why wouldn't they let him.

Nothing seemed real, everything was off white and closed in. He threw himself against the walls, enough of this and they'd have to sedate him, give him over to peace. Nothing in this white room was real, nothing except for the blood on his hands, blood that no one saw and never washed away. The blood of his family, the blood of he boy.

Everything hurt, everything charged him with more energy, more hate. He had almost had them! They would have conformed, and he would have used that boy like his father had used him. It had felt so good. He licked the blood on his arm, tasting.

Harder still he pounded on the walls, his knuckles were bleeding, his head throbbing. They were coming. He smiled, blood dripping from his forehead as they came in, needles in hand. Sedation. Wonderful periods where everything was good, where the shadows waited their turn to torment him, where he could remember the boy, where he could remember life as it had been all those years ago. When the door to his home opened, yet he could not enter.

Everything stilled, and, for that small window of time, he was a little boy, who knew not of what evil was. Where everything was as he was taught it should be. His father kissed him, all the while Uncle prepared dinner. Words floated through the house as Aunt Jan read, accompanied by the squeaks of a rocking chair. And a young boy cried, because soon, everything would disappear, and the shadows would be back.

-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-

A/N:Okay, I think this is the end, though, I'm considering a final chapter, though, this seems all right? Well, Thanks to all who read, and reviewed, I hope everyone enjoyed it.