Okay, so I think I'll concentrate on In Need first and then finish Derek's Misery. I had a solid idea of where to go on it and then *pptttbbt* my brain screwed me over. Sorry guys. Hang tight!

Day 9.6

Reid panted as he gained his breath back. His ankles and wrists were aching from the ropes, his jaw from the clenching. His neck had a twinge in it he couldn't get out and he realized he had only been conscious for about two hours. Christopher, were those two hours painful. Between the punches and the battery charged jumps, and the ice cold water in the freezing -what looked like a- basement, the darts being thrown at his chest and stomach felt like cushions. He had kept his noises to a minimum, hoping that it'd discourage anymore torture. Nope.

Bordum seemed to grow bored with the games Lorenzo obviously enjoyed. In fact, he seemed a little pained. And Reid was happily agreeing with him until the bodyguard asked him if he'd like to be killed to be put out of his misery.

Exact words, "Ah, uh… no thanks. I- I think I'm good. Thanks though."

A nod from Bordum. "Okay. Well, when you get tired of the torture just let me know and I'll make it painless for you." The strange dude stood up and walked away with a small smile on his face. He was so valiant, offering to help this man.

Reid rolled his eyes which he immediately regretted when a dart came dangerously close to his left eye, landing instead on his forehead. He winced as it sagged, stuck in his skin and he stilled so it wouldn't move more. It was… gross.

"What you rollin' your eyes at FBI?" The gangster in the wheel chair growled.

Spencer closed his eyes and shook his head minutely. "Sorry. I was thinking about something at work."

"You can think about something else while I'm stabbing you from long distance? Alright. Lets see if you can after this." He rolled closer and Spencer regretted opening his mouth. Control yourself, he told himself.

The wheel chaired fool took out a knife and glided it against Spencer's thighs, waiting for the agent to open his eyes again. When they did, he sat the knife upright and pushed it down with two hands.

The scream Spencer let out put a smile on the gangster's face.

"Why?" Spencer gasped out, watching the blood flow freely from his leg. If this kept up, he'd pass out soon.

"You ruined my fucking life, FBI."

DMDM

Derek yelled clear and put his gun back in his holster as everyone else did the same. This was the last place they could possibly look. Spencer had already been gone for three hours and that didn't give anyone hope. He could be dead- he's not.

Derek sucked his teeth and dialed Garcia, unaware that Hotch had already taken the action upon himself. When a busy tone came in he threw his phone on the ground and jumped when Rossi picked it up right as it hit the ground.

"He's fine, Derek. We'd know if he wasn't." The soothing tone of the senior agent's voice actually calmed Derek down, even if the statement was ludicrous. "Hotch is on the phone with Garcia right now. Come on, man."

Derek nodded and followed as David put his phone back together. The screen was cracked but he didn't give a damn at the moment.

"-other's home, then," Hotch demanded, his breath a little heavy.

Derek could actually hear Penelope's voice through the phone. "The mother doesn't have a- uh, hang on."

"What?" Derek demanded as he sidled up next to Hotch. Prentiss was on the other side and JJ was standing in front of the three of them. Rossi took a passive position next to one of the officers that had accompanied them.

"Hang on, I said," she grounded out, annoyed she'd missed something again. The grandparents. OFFUCINGCOURSE. "There's one more property on the border of Utah. It's occupied by renters but they're in Japan at the moment. Try there."

"How long does it take to get to Utah from here?" Rossi asked the officer.

"Uh, right to the border? About six and a half hours. With sirens on? Maybe four."

Hotch looked to Derek who nodded, then JJ and Prentiss who eagerly did the same. "Let's head to Utah," he told them.

SRSR

An hour after the stab and a really bad patch job later, Spencer was untied from the ropes, only to be hung upside down. "So you don't bleed out," Bordum told him. "He'd be pissed if you died."

The dizzy and pained agent could only nod, his swollen face making it hard to open his eyes. Where was the team?

"Do you still want to suffer? I told you I could help you."

The brunette shook his head wildly… well, as wildly as he could in his condition. "I want to live," he croaked out.

Bordum sighed and put a finger to the bridge of his nose. "Okay."

A thug had come down earlier to keep Lorenzo company and inform him that they still had a ring with enough women to function. "Good," the leader leered. "Bring one of them here."

A half hour later found Reid gagging as his head felt like it would explode. His eyes were being held forcibly open by the sticky substance Bordum had placed on his lids. The urge to blink was overwhelming and his eyes were watering with the unfortunate problem of staying open. Not only that, but the poor clearly unwilling woman being violated and raped in front of him might have left him scarred for life, he wasn't sure just yet.

DMDM

Hotch was the second into the house, Derek in front. They recognized the gangster in the living room from the screenshot and knew they had the right spot. Derek bypassed the unarmed man and made for the downstairs, instinctually. He didn't hesitate to shoot the man with a crying, sobbing, begging woman being held against him. Not fatal, of course, the man was in a wheel chair and had no weapon, but he did shoot him. He completely ignored the woman, making way to his beaten and broken lover. He took his pocket knife out and cut the brunette down, almost falling as he was sagged heavily against. He turned Spencer around so his face was in line with his.

Those beautiful chocolate eyes he was so used to seeing were faded and glossy, with streaks running down his face. "Spencer?" He choked out.

There was no answer and he would have shook the doctor had Hotch not been there and put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't stay for the action like he usually would have. He took his bleeding babe up the stairs and into the stretcher, solemnly taking the scolding for moving an injured person without knowing the extent of the injuries.

DMSR

Spencer groaned as he woke, his body aching and his head feeling light headed. His hand was squeezed and he squeezed it back.

"There's my pretty boy, hey," Derek said softly, against Spencer's ear.

"De-" Spencer coughed and a straw was stuck into his mouth. He eagerly gulped down the water until air was struggling through it.

"Take it easy, pretty boy. You had major blood loss and your nerves are a little shot." His large hands smoothed Spencer's hair back and kissed the bandage over the spot the dart had hit. He was sitting next to the bed in a comfy chair, both hands stroking Spencer's head and hand. His lips were against the pale, sweaty forehead and he was kissing it every now and then.

"You're so beautiful, Spencer." The brunette shook his head and closed his eyes.

"Don't lie to me."

Derek chuckled and scrubbed a hand through Spencer's damp hair. "I'm not, Spencer. I'm so glad I didn't lose you." His voice wavered as he spoke and his hands stilled. "I thought I did. I thought I lost you, baby." He sounded breathless and Spencer turned towards him, taking one of his hands into his.

"But you didn't," he replied hoarsely. "I'm right here and I always will be as long as you want me."

Alright, working on the next chapter now. I'm gonna work on DM as well but I want to get a hold of where I'm going with it first.