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Hotch did the thirty minute drive in just under twenty.  They erupted from the main street into a back alley in DC, and Hotch narrowly missed colliding with a dumpster that occupied most of the space. 

They piled out of the SUV and pounded on the steel door marked “C”. 

An androgynous person dressed in black answered the door, and lit up like a ray of sunshine.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he/she purred, eyes devouring them hungrily.  Hotch pulled out his badge and Prentiss and Morgan followed suit.  “Business or pleasure?” the clerk asked, taking Hotch’s badge to examine it more closely.  Red nails clicked together as the badge was handed back.  “You’re Hotch?”  All the play left the clerk’s face, and the voice became noticeably more male.  “Come with me,” he ordered. 

All three agents entered the dreary back hallway, walls lines with aged, peeling wallpaper.  Telephone numbers and offerings for various sexual acts were scrawled in great detail.  Morgan tilted his head and could not help but shudder as he read some of things people were willing to do. 

They emerged from the hallway into the storeroom of an adult toy and costume shop, and were led through into the store itself.  A girl in tight pink leather with heavy black boots leapt off her perch on top of the counter, drying off her face and approaching them. 

“Please, God, tell me one of you is Hotch.”

“Where is Dr. Reid?” Aaron demanded.  This must have been Jen.   She pulled Reid's phone off the counter and handed it to Hotch.  Her eyes were red from crying, and her face was streaked with tear tracks through her makeup.  The young woman took him by the arm and hauled him towards the storeroom and hallway again.  When Derek and Emily attempted to follow, she put up a hand in their faces.

“No.  Just Hotch.  Only him.  Not you.”

“Hotch…this….is….”  Emily protested. 

“NO!” the young woman shouted angrily, fists balled up, her face a mask of pain and anger.  She looked like a wraith about to explode, her short blonde hair jerking around her face.

“Wait here,” Hotch said to Prentiss and Morgan, motioning for Jen to lead on, that he would follow.  Jen opened a door and pounded up a circular staircase in her boots, presumably on her way to an upstairs floor.  Hotch made his way behind, wishing he could not feel the entire framework of the staircase sway with the addition of his weight.  Prentiss shook her head at Hotch and waited at the bottom of the stairs. 

Morgan was waiting with the androgynous clerk, admiring the tracing of tattoos and black leather and frayed netting that the clerk was dressed in. 

“Those are fantastic,” Derek murmured.   “Wait.  I wanna show you mine.  Hold on a sec.”

Morgan put away his badge and started taking off his jacket. 

“Before I let you in here, I just want you to know that I did NOT hurt him,” Jen said in a small, scared voice.  She was no more than a girl really, Hotch decided, standing behind her at the first metal door in a series of five.  Upstairs apartments above the store itself, Hotch surmised.  He would have guessed Jen was a young as sixteen but no more than twenty.  She slipped a key in the lock and entered the darkness.  Hotch fought desperately to quell the horror and bile rising in his throat. 

A form moved around on the floor on the other side of the bed.  Hotch instinctively reached for his gun and also for a lightswitch.  He found a switch, but no light came on.  Jen moved to end of the bed and tentatively knelt down.

“Dr. Reid?” she said.  “Hotch is here.” 

Aaron put away his gun and flew the ten paces, and went down beside the bed, reaching for the form. 

Reid came alive with a horrified, shaking scream that rattled the entire room, and Hotch recoiled from the sound.   He could hear Emily running up the stairs.  Jen flew to the door and locked it and sat down in front of it, keeping her back to the door as Prentiss pounded and shouted. 

Hotch took out his phone and dialed.  There was a ring in the hallway.

“HELLO!?” Emily replied.

“Wait downstairs,” Hotch ordered again. 

Prentiss hung up the phone, but Jen could distinctly hear, “Motherfuck, Hotch, you're killing me!” being muttered behind her.  Hotch probably heard it too but didn’t care.

Hotch sat an inch closer to Reid, where he was balled up next to the bed, trembling.  He was wearing handcuffs.  He was not wearing his jacket or sweater.  Or his slacks, Hotch realized, seeing these items on the chair beside the bed as his eyes adjusted to the extremely-low amount of light coming through the heavy brown paper on the wall of metal windows opposite. 

“He came in in early afternoon,” Jen began, inching closer to the bed but staying out of range.  “He said he needed help on a case, showed me photographs, asked me about the equipment, asked me how each of the objects would be used.  He asked if we had the stuff.  Then he asked if I would show him how to use them properly.  I said only in private.”

“Reid?” Hotch whispered, easing one hand forward.  Spencer withdrew further away, curling up one shoulder and keeping his eyes closed.  “It’s Hotch.  Tell me what happened.”

Jen inched closer yet, climbing on the end of the bed.   When Reid didn't reply, she did. 

“I brought him up here to my place.  I mean, come on, you can tell by looking at him that he’s not dangerous.  Maybe he thought the same about me.  He was going to be the one wearing cuffs and a spreader bar, so I felt safe enough.   Gary is just downstairs, and this guy is not going to pull anything funny.  Maybe he’s kinky.  Maybe he’s curious.  Maybe he really does need help on a case,” she rambled. 

“Spencer?” Hotch whispered again. 

“I put the bar on him first, because in case I’m wrong and he is some psycho with a badge, at least I know he won’t be able to move well or far with those on.”

Hotch reached out again, this time in search of a foot or an ankle.  He found a cold metal bar where he thought a foot might have been.  He inched along the bar towards the left, and found a warm leather cuff was buckled around Reid’s bare ankle.  A search to the right revealed a leather cuff on his right ankle as well.  His feet were about twenty-four inches apart, but Hotch could tell by the construction of the bar itself that it could be extended or contracted. 

Reid was shivering.  Having finally made physical contact, Hotch kept hold of one foot, stroking slowly and soothing.   He closed his eyes and let himself imagine Reid’s long legs bound and spread apart.  Hotch absolutely hated himself for the hard-on that was starting to wake up in his pants. 

“Go on,” he said to Jen. 

“He sat on the bed.  He was a bit pale but okay, I thought.  So I put the handcuffs on him,” Jen said, brushing her face.  “He went real quiet, and started kinda shaking, you know, twitching and shaking.  He was looking at me, but looking through me.  He was seeing someone else.  There was something wrong.”

“Why didn’t you take them off?” Hotch growled.  Jen sniffled. 

“He wouldn’t let me near him.  I got hold of his arm, but he started screaming and screaming and screaming for you and he wouldn’t stop.  He scared the hell out of me.  I dropped the key.  It’s under the bed somewhere.”

Hotch sighed with annoyance. 

“Can you turn on a goddamn light?”

“The lamp is broke,” she sniffed.  Hotch let go of Reid’s foot, pulled out his flashlight, and rolled down to the floor, peering under the bed.   Through a pile of jeans, shirts, undergarments, spare change, a pair of flip-flops, a book, an old newspaper, and a frightened cat (!) Hotch spotted the key.

“It’s on your side,” he said, handing Jen the flashlight and pointing.  The cat skittered across the room and headed for shelter in a different dark corner.   

“Trent, cut it out,” the girl chided, crawling under the bed.   She came up with the key, and carefully gave it to Hotch.  He put the end of his flashlight in his mouth and reached for Reid’s hands as Spencer dodged the beams of light and recoiled further away.   The white shirt that Reid was wearing was completely see-through when the light bounced across it. 

“Reid, come on.  Gimme your hands,” Hotch cajoled, taking the flashlight out of his maw and balancing it on the table beside the bed. 

“Is he gonna be okay?” Jen worried.

“I need to get him out of these, and he should be fine,” Hotch bluffed.  “He’s borderline autistic.  This is called a fugue state.  He goes into these sometimes when he’s in significant distress.”

Jen stared at Hotch and nodded as if what he had said made sense.   Reid leaned his head back against the bed and avoided the light, looking towards the headboard and closing his eyes.  Jen reached over and stroked Reid’s hair.  Her short pink nails were bitten to the quick.  He did not recoil from her touch.  He held still, and Hotch was able to release the cuffs from his wrists. 

Jen sat closer to Reid, coiling up around his shoulders, continuing to caress his hair. 

“It’s only dreams,” she whispered.  “Dreams go away when you wake up.  Dreams are nothing to be afraid of.  Dreams can’t hurt you.”

Hotch concentrated on unbuckling Reid’s ankles, not interrupting Jen as she spoke.

“Whoever hurt you, they’re not here.  It’s Hotch, and Jen.  Do you remember now?”

“M….Mariner,” Reid gasped. 

“Oh fuck,” Hotch muttered.   He had known  Reid might eventually remember the events that had happened, but here and now, this was not the time or place.  How inconvenient were the quirks of this gifted mind. 

Jen glanced over at Aaron, eyes scared and puzzled.  Hotch sat up, and Jen did as well.  Hotch put both arms around Reid and hauled him to his feet.  He hoped it would shake Reid back to reality. 

“Be careful,” Jen cautioned.

“Dr.  Reid, listen to me.  Mariner is not here.  He is not going to hurt you, not again.  He’s under lock and key in Leavenworth, Kansas, and he is never getting free, ever.  I promised you I would never, ever take you anywhere near Leavenworth, didn’t I?”

“Mm hmm,” Reid nodded, eyes not focusing on Hotch even though Aaron held his face cupped in both hands. 

“Spencer, he is not going to hurt you again, okay?”

“Mm hmm,” Reid nodded again. 

“I don’t know what you thought you were doing here.  You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Hotch whispered.   

Reid shook his head no.  Hotch kissed him gently on the mouth and pulled him close and rocked him in place.   Reid lifted his arms around Hotch’s neck and held on tight.   Hotch had almost forgotten about Jen being in the room, at least until she cleared her throat and gave a small, nervous laugh. 

“I’ll….um….wait downstairs,” Jen said.  She climbed off the bed and headed for the door, closing it behind herself. 

“I’m going to take you home now,” Hotch whispered against Reid’s cheek.  “Let’s get you dressed.”

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