A/N: Kickoff for a new multi-chapter series! Have to do something now that school is over.. Hope you like it! Beta read by the lovely LT!

-o-o-o-

The word is half his that speaks, and half his that hears it.

- Michel de Montaigne

-o-o-o-

Slamming the door shut behind him, Spencer Reid drew a deep breath as he leaned back against it, closing his eyes. He just stood there for a few moments and took in the wondrous silence that reigned within his walls. There really was no place like home. And he was finally in it.

Locking the door, Reid wriggled out of his coat and kicked off his shoes, dropping his over night bag in the small hallway. He decided to unpack it tomorrow. There was nothing he wanted more than to go to bed and pull the covers over his head, shielding himself from all the terrors the world around him was throwing their way.

They had spent over a week in Salt Lake City on a case involving pre-pubescent girls, and it had been beyond grueling. Reid never wanted to see Salt Lake City again after finally closing the case. He would forever associate that town with what he had seen, heard and been told, and the pictures were less than pretty. They would most likely give him nightmares for the rest of his life. Like he didn't have enough of those already.

Unbuttoning his shirt as he walked down the hallway towards the living room, he felt his body beginning to cave in from fatigue and complete exhaustion. He dropped the brown and beige garment on the floor of the living room and plopped down onto the couch. He could finally put his feet up on the table and relax for the first time in over a week.

Reid reached for the remote control and lazily flipped on the TV. National Geographic's Channel came on, featuring a show about manatees. With a slight sigh, Reid leaned on the armrest and rubbed his hand over his chest. He'd been coughing a lot in Utah and his chest was still sore. Maybe he was coming down with something.

As he watched the manatees eat and mate, he slowly slipped away from reality and into a dreamless, exhausted sleep.

-o-o-o-

Crash.

Reid woke with a start. The apartment was pitch black but the TV was still on. Somewhere in the flat, something had fallen down and made a crash loud enough to wake him up.

Instinctively, he went for his gun, but remembered that he had put it on the hallway table before going into the living room. Slowly, he rose from the couch, trying to make as little sound as possible. Was there someone in his apartment?

"Hello?" he called, and instantly regretted it. If there really was someone there, now they knew that he was awake. He needed to get to his gun.

He padded silently across the floor and into the hallway. He'd have to pass the bedroom door in order to get to the hallway table and his gun.

You're acting paranoid, he thought to himself. There's no one in here. It was probably just a neighbor or something. Or the wind.

Reid tip-toed through the hallway, sight set on the gun, but eyes locked on the bedroom door. Just as he reached it, he stopped. With a quick step, he passed the door and jumped on his gun, nearly ripping it from its holster. With the weapon in his hands, he felt slightly safer.

He threw a quick glance into the kitchen before entering, holding the gun aimed in front of him. The kitchen was completely empty. Not as much as a breeze from the window or a shadow dancing in the corner. All was still and silent. He did a quick search before moving out into the hallway again. Everything was still silent except for the TV which still ran in the living room. Reid could hear the narrator talking about farming in northern Arizona.

The young agent held his gun up in front of him as he quickly turned and stepped into the last room - the bedroom - flipping on the light. Another empty, silent room. At least now Reid could see what the crash had been caused by. A book had fallen off a shelf and onto the window sill, hitting a lamp and sending it hurling onto the floor. It had shattered into about 3000 pieces which Reid had no intention to clean up tonight.

"Alright", he mumbled, securing his gun. "You are way too paranoid."

Walking out of the bedroom, he put the gun back on the hallway table where his credentials were already placed, and then headed back into the kitchen. He wanted coffee so very badly, but a quick glance at his watch told him that it was much too late for that. Coffee at 3AM would not be a good idea. At least not with his already sensitive stomach. Plus, he needed all the sleep he could get. He decided to settle for a glass of water.

Downing the cool liquid, he placed the glass in the sink and flipped the light back off, heading down the hallway. His entire body screamed for sleep and he was not going to object any more. He returned to the bedroom and made up his bed for the night. At least he'd get to sleep in tomorrow. Saturdays were the best day of the entire week.

With a yawn, he began pulling off the rest of his clothes, placing them less than neatly on an armchair in the corner. He avoided stepping where the broken lamp was, because he wasn't in the mood to pull shards of glass out of his feet at three in the morning. His bare legs were still wobbly from the fatigue and all the excess adrenaline that was running through his veins, as he headed back to the living room to turn out the TV and finally get some sleep.

The moment Reid clicked the off-button on the TV, he could feel someone grabbing him from behind, throwing an arm around Reid's torso. The split second it took the young agent to react, jerk and let out a yelp was enough for the grip to harden and Reid was yanked backwards.

A sharp sting in his neck made him yell out as he fought to get loose. His one and only instinct was to get to his gun. He didn't have time to curse himself for leaving the weapon in the hallway.

Reid's head began spinning as he struggled with the stranger behind him, and clouds were drifting over his eyes. Panic spread wildly in the young agent's body as he felt his limbs stop obeying him. His attempts to struggle became weaker and weaker until his legs no longer had the strength to keep him upright.

What did he…give me..?

Reluctantly, Reid felt himself slip to the floor, still in the tight hold of the intruder behind him. His head was spinning out of control and all attempts to break free were too weak to be even noticeable. Finally, his eyes rolled back into his head and everything went black.

The intruder let go of the limp man in his hands and stood up, admiring his work. A lanky, unconscious FBI-agent lay on the floor in front of him, wearing nothing but his boxers. The man nodded shortly, and then turned around, heading for the bedroom. As he walked through the hallway, he stuck the syringe back into its case and put it in his inner pocket.

With black gloves on his hands, the man rummaged through the closets until he had gathered up a bunch of clothes. Shirts, socks, underwear and pants. Not so gently he pushed them into a green bag he found in one of the closets. Throwing the bag into the hallway, he swept up the pieces of glass from the floor and carried them along with the broken lamp to the kitchen, tossing it in the bin.

The gun, cuffs and credentials on the hallway table went into the bag as well, along with two pairs of shoes and a thin jacket. In the bathroom, the man grabbed toothbrush, shaver and shampoo, and they went the same way all the other items had gone.

"This should do", he mumbled, closing the bag. He threw a glance at his wrist watch. 3.20AM. He nodded to himself again.

The intruder made his way back into the living room and the unconscious man on the floor. With little effort, he grabbed one of the thin arms and hoisted the young agent up head first over one of his shoulders. The man groaned as Reid finally was in place.

"You look like you weigh a buck twenty soaking wet, but kid – you're heavy", he mumbled as he took a good hold of Reid's legs and walked out of the living room, agent over his shoulder.

He bent down and grabbed the bag with Reid's clothes and things in them and swung the strap over his other shoulder. After flipping out the lights in the bedroom and kitchen, he took Reid's keys from their hook on the wall.

Throwing one last look into the apartment, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything, the man peered out the peep hole in the door and made sure the coast was clear. The only person he could possibly encounter at this time a day, in this part of town, was the paper boy. And he could handle a paper boy. As he saw that the outside hallway was empty, he unlocked the door and stepped out, maneuvering Reid's body so that he wouldn't bang the doorway.

Closing the door behind him, he secured both locks and then began his walk down the stairs. It was a precarious walk, but thankfully it was only one floor to cover. There wasn't a sound in the building, except for someone who had most likely fallen asleep with the TV on, and the voice of John McClane echoed through one of the hallways as the intruder passed the door on light feet.

Without encountering anyone on his short walk, the man made it out onto the street where his car was waiting for him. It took him only moments to open the trunk and stuff the lanky young agent into it. A quick calculation told him that the drug wouldn't wear off until they got to their destination, but just in case…

Opening the green bag with Reid's things, he pulled out the standard issue cuffs and clamped them around the unconscious agent's wrists.

"Now we're good", he mumbled with a smirk and slammed the trunk shut, locking Reid inside. Throwing the bag into the back seat of his BMW, he jumped in the driver's seat and fired up the motor.

"Time to go, Dr. Reid", he said as he turned on the radio. "You have an appointment that you can't miss."

AC/DC was booming out of the speakers as the man drove off into the night, with Reid helplessly bound in the trunk, oblivious to the world around him.