A/N: Alright everyone here is the next chapter of the story. I would like to thank my beta Iron Rose Writer for helping out and nudging me toward getting back to this story! Enjoy!

Warning: Some strong language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or the characters.

There was a loud thud and suddenly Reid was awake and alert. A violent shiver from the chill in the air caused the FBI Agent to take inventory of his personal being. To his relief he was still clothed from the waist down. He didn't feel any soreness or stabs of pain, but he wondered if all of that would change once he attempted to move. There was a very solid and sturdy weight around his right ankle and the young man immediately knew he was shackled to the wall. Without moving, he gazed around to survey his surroundings. Reid's eyes were having a hard time adjusting due to the room being poorly lit by the flickering overhead light. The walls appeared to be bare, with no immediately identifiable markers, and made of concrete. He figured that he was laying on a mattress from a cot due to the less than ideal proximity to the floor.

His mind began to wander over everything that had transpired since he had stepped foot into that café. How he had been so foolish to think that this would turn out okay and he would be able to walk away from this a little shaken up but alive. How so many senseless deaths had taken place just for him to end up here, wherever here was. Then there was the fact that Morgan got hurt trying to protect him. Morgan. Reid wondered if he would ever see the one person that made him feel safe ever again.

"I know that you are awake, doctor," came a voice off to Reid's side that interrupted his thoughts. Cautiously, Reid sat up so that he could see who it was that had spoken. A man stood in the doorway of the room. The dim lighting made it hard to make out his facial features, but his posture spoke volumes. His body was stiff with waves of anger and animosity rolling off of him. While Reid couldn't make out the man's eyes, he could feel them boring into him.

"You obviously know who I am." Reid winced as the sound of his voice reminded him that he was parched.

"Well, Spencer Reid, it is very hard to not know who you are. It just so happens that there are a lot of people that are aware of you and the brilliance that you possess."

Reid ran a hand over his throat as he cleared it and spoke again, "It seems that in this situation I am at an unfair disadvantage because I have no idea who you are."

The man clucked his tongue, but he didn't reveal his name. As the figure in the doorway moved closer to the mattress that Reid was shackled on, the agent felt his senses go into high alert. Even though he didn't know the identity of the person approaching him, he did know that his training was kicking in. His instincts screamed for Reid to run, but unfortunately the agent was trapped with no hope for escape. The sound of a belt being unbuckled echoed throughout the room and in that moment what was about to unfold began to click into place.

Reid's breath hitched as he sent up a silent prayer for all of this to be over soon. He braced himself as the man finally made it to where he was sitting. Just as the man was about to lean forward and touch the young agent, another figure appeared in the room.

"What is going on in here?" The voice was stern, the question coming out more like a silent command to back off than anything else.

The room fell silent as Reid waited to see how this would play out. Finally, the first man broke the silence, answering the question of the newcomer. "I was just making sure that our guest was comfortable."

"Is that so." The statement was made and before any other words could be ushered there was a loud bang and a hard thud of a body hitting the ground. Reid instinctively flinched and backed against the wall as the realization of what had just happened caught up to him.

"Good help is so hard to find these days." The shooter looked directly at Reid and smiled. "No need to be frightened my dear Spencer. I did that to protect you. I can't have my best asset being tarnished. Now I will send someone to clean up the mess and bring you some food."

With those final words the man left the room. Reid stared at the dead body that lay a mere few inches from where he sat and uttered the only thought that was running through his mind, "What kind of hell am I in?"

TWO MONTHS LATER

Hotch pushed the door open and sighed at the condition of the house as he looked around for the one person that had been missing from work for the past few days. As he crossed the threshold and entered the living room, he saw trash and alcohol bottles scattered all along the floor. He figured that his friend and coworker was having a hard time, but he had never considered that it was this bad. Hotch continued to move further into the home and the closer he got to the bedroom the worse things got. By the time he was outside of the bedroom door he was trying to not gag from the overbearing scent of alcohol that seemed to be seeping from the walls.

Slowly, Hotch pushed the door opened to find the person that he was looking for sprawled across the floor dead to the world. With a deep sigh and a hint of irritation, Hotch moved over to the body and gave it a not so gentle push. There was a groan and then nothing. Hotch tried again, this accompanying the push with a strong and loud, "God Dammit Morgan!"

That seemed to get the man's attention as he sat up and looked around wildly. It took him some time before his mind finally became clear and he recognized the face that was staring at him. Morgan scrubbed his hand over his face as he moved to get up only to have a rush of vertigo pull him back to the floor.

"Hotch, w-what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to figure out what the hell is going on with you? You haven't been to work in almost four days and this looks like a rundown bar." Hotch stood off to the side as he examined his agent. The past two months had been tough for the entire team, but of course Morgan had taken things harder than the rest. The man had spent majority of his time working tirelessly looking for his lover. It had gotten to the point that Hotch had to tell the man that he was overdoing it and to take a step back. The Unit Chief just was not expecting the man to go missing for almost a week or to be drinking his sorrows away.

"You told me back off so that is what I did. I took a step back." Morgan was able to finally make it to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed. He felt like he had been hit by a bus, but he couldn't tell if the feeling came from the hangover or the emptiness that he felt.

"That didn't mean go off the grid and work on becoming an alcoholic."

"Fuck you Hotch! You think this is how I want things. I would much rather be lying in bed holding on to the man that I love, but we haven't been able to find him. Apparently you have given up hope of finding him and I have to find a way to deal with the loss and the guilt. So screw you." Hotch took a step back as he reined in his anger. Arguing with Morgan was not going to help anyone, especially not the resident genius that had been missing for far too long now.

Strengthening his resolve Hotch finally said what he had come all this way to say, "The fact that you think this team has given up proves that you are off your game and not paying attention. We may not have the bond that you two have, but he is still a part of this family and we will not stop until we find him. Now, when you are ready to put your guilt aside and help us bring Spencer home you know where to find us. Hopefully we will see you sooner rather than later and make sure that you are sober when you come Morgan."

Hotch turned and left the room. It wasn't until Derek heard the front door close that he let his emotions go. Tears ran down his face as he sobbed loudly, clutching his midsection as he sent up a silent prayer for the man that had become his light in the darkness.