HOTCH POV

He was beautiful, I hadn't been expecting that. They're usually so broken by the time we see them that any grace has long since been dragged from them. Their handlers are rough with them but that's not it, I wasn't even sure it was the medications; maybe it was the vile, cruel filth we forced through their minds every waking moment. Maybe it was the way images of sick criminals were thrust at them, hundreds of facts and all of them horrific. There was nothing left of beauty once the horror of what their minds could access drew across their eyes. No matter the face they wore, they were ugly, broken creatures.

I believed, until I saw him, the thin fragile form practically dragged into my office.

"Heard you needed a Sera, we've got a new one, just sent over from training" pronounced the handler, smiling at me, "I hear he's quite the talent this one" he practically snarled.

The youth was barely standing, supported between the two handlers to keep him from falling to the ground. He was obviously aware however as his eyes scanned the room, but avoiding my face as he had been taught to do, well trained I noted, but they all were. Too dangerous to let out if they were likely to break conditioning.

I nodded and ushered the men in, as usual the kid was placed on the floor, kneeling in the accepted position.

"You sure you don't want to do this in the interrogation room?"

"Yes, I'm sure" I answered annoyed, if I had to do this then I would at least give the young man a bit of dignity.

"Ok then" He muttered, obviously disapproving.

They brought out the locks for the harness the Sera always wore and without ceremony fastened the various arm, leg and body restraints together, effectively immobilizing him. I nodded to them to step back before bringing out the folder of crime scene photos and profile outline.

I hated this part of the job, watching the terror pass across their faces before the inevitable crash of the new consciousness into their minds. But this young man had no such terror, he looked almost resigned as I flipped open the file and started sorting out the contents.

"Read me the profile first" He sated quietly, and I froze, shocked. They never spoke except when the unsub took over. For a moment I looked at him in astonishment, so he has an opinion. But too soon the handler was there, blubbering his apologies.

"Sorry about that sir. Probably low on Amsatheirine" he blustered before crouching down, beside him and unclipping the medication kit he carried.

"No, let him speak. Why do you want to hear that first?" I questioned, the genuine curiosity getting the better of my judgment. The handler stilled, he had a needle poised against the skin. The young man was staring at it, is if he feared looking away might cause the needed to strike. I saw his discomfort and turning to the handler said.

"Put it away, and please give us some room"

"Sir, I don't think that's a good idea. Policy says we need to keep the dosage stable"

"When was his last shot?"

"12:30" The second handler answered, pulling out the chart.

"That's only an hour ago. Are you telling me that you regularly give him shots hourly?"

"No, no of course not"

"Glad to hear it. Now if you could give us some space, I'd like to hear what he has to say"

"This is highly irregular" he protested, but did back off finally.

When I saw the young man had stilled I knelt down and repeated the question.

"Why do you want to hear the profile first?" I asked as gently as possible but he doesn't seem to hear me. I try again gently coaxing him to pay attention, I look at the name on his collar.

"Reid, can you hear me? You're not going to get the shot. You can speak to me, I'm not mad, I'd just like to know why you'd like to hear the profile first"

It took a few long moments for the youth to speak, he was obviously fighting an internal battle and I was more than willing to let him take his time.

"I...it helps to have a base for the images, some foundation on which to categorize the victims" He answered nervously.

"I see" I tried to catch his eyes but he continued to stare at the file in my hands. In the end I simply nodded and opened the file to the profile and began to read.

REID POV

"Read me the profile first" I almost gag at the words, the familiar nausea claws at my stomach and I almost bite my tongue to ward it off, but thankfully I manage to stop myself in time. I went down that road too many times to risk the resulting 'management'. Instead I focus my eyes on the folder, on his hands and on anything to distract me, sometimes I wish I could just open my eyes and scream desperately, sobbing out the pain to the world.

But instead I try to remain still as the panic begins to set in, Harry has the kit out and he's about to give me another shot of the rat poison they call a medication. I can't stop staring that the needle poised next to my skin, one inch closer and it'll enter my vein pilling into my bloodstream and head straight for my brain. I'll probably have enough coherent time to warn them of the seizure, but I'm never sure, sometimes it comes on to fast and I'll end up thrashing on the floor in the middle of a tonic-clonic within a few minutes.

Somehow the drug never arrives and I'm left sitting there listening to a gentle voice telling me that it's ok to speak, and I'm not in trouble. I wish the man who owned that voice knew the trouble I really was in; the gentleness behind it was intoxicating. He made me want to reach out and touch him, to look into his eyes and tell him the awful truth.

But the reality was that he was simply another handler, another uncaring, cruel figure of the system. He wanted an answer so I gave him one, a logical one.

And as soon as the words started pouring into my brain I could feel the shift, That almost-pain almost-pleasure, but overwhelming loss before I could no longer speak, someone else was in control and for a few minutes at least I could disappear. Never mind that the person speaking with my mouth, and gesturing with my hands was a butchering rapist, at least I didn't have to care, right, and it wasn't like I had a choice.

It was an easy transition, ten minutes in total, I was staggered, usually they gasped and fought it harder but he just closed his eyes for a second and was gone.

When they eyes opened again there was a different man in the room, a man angry with the world and everyone in it. He sneered at me.

"So you found one of my girls?" The southern accent layered on thick and heavy.

I shouldn't be surprised at this, but I still am, I hate using Sera's. They're haunting reminders of the despicable nature we all hold. So many of them are broken remnants, so many die young. I shrug it off and look into his eyes.

We don't know how Sera's do it, how they can enter someone else's mind. We do understand the rules however, they aren't that person and they can't usually give us specific information, instead they somehow collect the known information and create inside their minds a collage of who the person is. They start to think like them, behave like them, even have their skills and in most cases feel exactly what the person they become is feeling. We don't know how it occurs but it's a dangerous skill and if put in the wrong hands can have horrific consequences.

It's generally accepted that Seras have some sort of empathic ability that we simply don't understand yet. Their ability to understand and process information is far beyond that of the normal person and their sensitivity to changes in behavior is incredible.

"Where are they?"

"Who?"

"Your girls" I almost spat the words out, the voice coming out of his mouth defying the youthful face.

"Ah Hannah, my jewel. And Leah the Angel."

"Yes where are they"

"Below the earth but above the water. Where the wild flowers bloom blue and white. Where horses don't go but children spends their hours screaming" Hotch moans, obviously more of the riddles this unsub keeps sending. God I just wish it didn't work like that, I sign and try once more.

"Where are they?"

""Below the earth but above the water. Where the wild flowers bloom blue and white. Where horses don't go but children spends their hours screaming" he repeats, over and over again, laughing. It soon becomes clear that I'm not going to get any more out of him this time.

"Ok, let's bring him out" I tell his handlers, motioning them over. I hate this part, the most direct way to bring a sera out is to stimulate the central nervous system. The original personality takes control back. The handler steps forward and I can't help but look away, this is not something I agree with, but I have nothing I can do about it.

He pulls out a remote and fiddles with it for a moment before suddenly I can hear screams pitching across my office, harrowing and desperate.

"STOP!" I yell, "It's enough!", Reid is back, I can see by the way his shoulders are hunched and his eyes down cast. He's sobbing miserably, bunching his fists and breathing in ragged grasps. The remote is put away, tucked into the jacket pocket of the handler; I can't imagine what that feels like, to know that someone else has the ability to give you excruciating pain by simply pushing a button from half way across the room. To know that you have no control over your own body in that way, I simply cannot imagine it.

I have to fight the urge not to touch him, comfort him. You don't touch Sera, no one does except the handlers. Some uneducated people believe they can steal your soul if they touch you, or look you in the eye.

I know better of course but it doesn't help other peoples' misconceptions. I lean over the kid, and carefully unclip the fastenings of his harness.

"Are you alright?" I whisper to him, soothingly, not really expecting an answer. But under his breathe I can hear it, desperate, and for the first time he meets my eyes.

"No" His gaze locks into my soul, help me, he seems to beg, I can't survive this much longer. I don't know how long we sat there looking at each others it felt like hours but was probably only a few moments. His head was thrust forward forcefully, the handler grabbed a fistful of his hair before pulling out the blindfold.

"I'm sorry about this Sir" he said fastening it around Reid's eyes. I was in shock, those eyes had begged me to help, but now they were covered and I didn't need to face them anymore. Before I could speak, he'd pulled out the needle and jabbed it into Reid's arm, the effect was almost instantaneous as he fell limp.

I stood up and ran my hands through my hair shakily. I could barely think, and my hands were shaking. I pushed them into my pockets and leant against my desk, trying to catch my breath.

"Bring him back tomorrow. I'll need another session" said unsteadily. The handler simply nodded and pulled the kid up off the floor.

"Don't worry about it Sir, everyone reacts like that" I nod and watch them lead him out the door. My heart nearly stopped as he was thrust into the elevator, those eyes.

That night I dreamt of him, that scream echoed across the room as my eyes flew open. My job was to help, to save people and every day and here I was watching them torture people in my office.

I'd never been comfortable with using Sera in my investigations, and refused to keep one on my team. That fact alone had caused some problems higher up. I simply couldn't face looking at one every day, no matter how much I pressure was put on me.

But somehow the next day I found myself in the section chief's office.

"I'll take a sera on my team."

"I'm glad you finally came round to see reason" she said smiling smugly at me.

"But I have some terms"

"Of course, I expected as much", not missing a beat she looks at me expectantly.

" I want the Sera that came to my office yesterday" she nods, "and I want complete guardianship, no handlers"

"You're kidding right. I can't ok that"

"It's common in military teams for the leader to hold guardianship, why can't I?"

"Because we're not military! You're working with civilians, in uncontrollable environments everyday. It's too dangerous to let one simply walk around unattended."

"What if I take total responsibility? It's the only way I will let you put one on my team." She saw the utter immovability in my face.

"I'll see what I can do." She said dismissively, but I knew I had won. "But he's your responsibility inside and outside the office, that means all day everyday, he's in your presence and under your control. Any problems and the blame falls on your shoulders" she says warily. I nod and shake her hand.

What I would do now with the youth, I had no idea. As I stepped out of the office I realized, for the first time in my life I am responsible for another.

They left the blindfold on all night and it wasn't like I could remove it myself, I didn't even try. I was led back to my room, stripped naked and placed on the bed, my feet cuffed to the end.

"Sleep" Harry orders roughly, "after the shit you pulled today, I don't think you deserve dinner"

I nod, I knew better than to speak. I lay back on the pillow and tried to still my breathing. Missing dinner isn't much of a punishment, I barely even register hunger anymore anyway and I was never a big eater. I know I should eat to keep my strength up but somehow everything seems to taste bland and gritty and the nausea is better to manage if I have nothing left to throw up anyway.

Anyway, it's like they keep telling me, my body isn't my own anymore, my mind is theirs. Why should I care about their possessions, it's not like I can go without eating for too long anyway, soon enough some doctor will be in here with a tube to force down my nose and a dozen needles to test my blood for malnourishment. And then Harry will be gone and I'll have a new handler, hopefully one less enamored to that damn remote.

The night passed slowly as the visions scout across my brain, desires that aren't mine gnaw at the edges of my consciousness until finally I wake sweating and begging out loud for respite. The cold night air drifting through my room from the small window is the only comfort offered to me and as the sweat starts to dry on my skin the shivering starts. Cold then hot and cold again, all night long by body screams for attention but I can barely notice it behind the voices screaming in my mind for release. And some of them are screaming for murder.

As morning comes I can feel the heat slowly sink back into the walls chilled overnight. I can't see the light but I can feel it against my skin, if I concentrate hard I can feel the heat and ignore the voices. Concentrate on the sensations I remind myself, ground yourself in your body. But I can't manage it anymore, the drugs and the darkness are locking me out, I can barely feel the hunger that should be tearing my insides apart, I haven't eaten in 30 hours but I feel nothing.

The lock clicks back and I hear the door slide open, it's the nurse, Hannah, and not Harry that opened it, I can hear her small footsteps crossing the room.

"Spenser? Are you awake?"

"Yes"

"Good, how did you sleep?" I hear the warmth in her voice.

"Alright" I lie, but she's caught the lie in my voice immediately.

"Why didn't you ask for a sleeping pill?"

"You know I don't like them. I have enough drugs in my system already, I don't need more" I told her warily, she could force me to take them, but that's not like her. She'll only give me what she has to under doctor's orders. She does her job but doesn't get any enjoyment out of it.

"I'm going to take this off now, just relax." she says touching the blindfold, I nod and lower my head into the familiar position. I feel her pulling at the buckle in the back, it slides off easily and as I open my eyes I'm welcomed with a view of her hands.

I've never see her face, only her hands and feet, the conditioning is so strong that even if I wanted to, I couldn't meet her eyes. I don't know how I looked at that detective, all I remember is the gentle concern in his voice and the almost animalistic need to seek protection and I was soon lost there in his gaze. Something cool and comforting passed between us I'm sure, but the drugs soon erased that.

Hannah places a tray in front of me, porridge and milk.

"Take it easy this time" she warns, "I don't think you managed to keep down any of yesterday's breakfast".

I pick up the spoon and take a small portion experimentally; I wait a few minutes to see if my stomach will take it without protest. Fortunately, it seems my fast yesterday has paid off and the nausea doesn't force me to the sink by the bed. Hannah smiles knowingly and hands me the milk.

Thankfully she waits till I've finished my meal before pulling out the kit of drugs. She preps my skin and injects the first lot of drugs before rubbing the spot. We wait a tense few minutes while the drug courses through my veins, too little and she'll need to give me more. She pulls out a finger prick tester and clips my finger. She smiles at the results.

"That's all you need now. Let's get you dressed"

She pulls out the brown and helps me pull them on. At first I found them humiliating but now, I don't even spare them a second look. It's the harness that still sends shivers down my spine. It looks similar to a full-body abseiling harness but with some additional fastenings. It also comes with wrist, ankle, thighs and elbow cuffs and a thick collar. It's designed to provide handlers with an easy and non harmful way to restrain a Sera during a 'session' or if they try to run. It is believed that if allowed to act without supervision, a Sera can and will act often irrationally, slipping into uncharacteristic and often violent behavior. The harness therefore also acts as a warning to others to stay away for their own protection.

I don't resist as she clips and buckles the various straps across my chest and down my back. It's not like I could stop her anyway, all she needs to say is 'Down Reid' and I'll find myself kneeling instantly at her feet. Conditioning to obey verbal responses in another means used to control Sera, I can't even remember how many months of pain passed before they were finally happy with my obedience. I don't want to remember so I let her clip the cuffs around my wrists, it's strange to me now how I can think back over those many months of pain and not feel anything, not even anger. It's best not to think to hard about it, I tell myself, no point. But Hannah is talking and I need to pay attention, something is wrong with the way she's speaking, she's upset somehow.

"There is some big news for you today. You're leaving us to be put under private guardianship. I'm going to miss you"

"What?" I ask shocked

"That policeman you visited yesterday has been granted custody of you. You're to be taken over to him this morning once we're ready to go.

CHAPTER 2

"You can't be serious!" Emily looked at me like I'd grown a second head, this could be harder than I thought.

"I am perfectly serious. We should have had one on the team long ago, why is it so surprising that I'd bring one on now"

"Because you hate Sera" That was Morgan, then, assumptions surpassing the evidence, I'd have to remind him about that again soon I decided.

"I don't hate Sera, I simply do not agree with how they are managed in this country. But that is irrelevant, I have asked for one to be assigned to this team and he will be under my personal guardianship."

"Your guardianship?"

"Yes, to work with them we needed someone to be qualified. I took the course three years ago and my license is still valid, besides it's proving too ineffectual to continue finding Seras to use at each location, it'd be far more effective to bring one along."

"Why now?" Asked Gideon, a strange expression on his face.

"Because yesterday, the Sera I used fell in under ten minutes" I collective gasp reverberated around the room, it was fast if you got them to fall in under an hour, ten minutes was almost impossible.

"He's arriving later today. But now I want you all to finish up your reports and there'll be a meeting in the conference room regarding the new evidence in an hour." I left then, unwilling or unable to explain it fully, doubts filling my mind were argument enough, I didn't need them questioning my judgment.

He arrived later that afternoon, led placidly into my office by the same handlers from yesterday. I knew something was wrong, he was meek today while yesterday he was drugged out but still awake at least.

I sat down at my desk and signed the paperwork that was offered to me, I also placed the remote in my jacket pocket, it's not much heavier than a mobile phone, but seemed to weight a ton.

"I understand that you have some items for me?"

"Yes Sir. You already own all the normal equipment but we have ha few things that have been prescribed for use with this Sera beyond the normal gear. We've also been instructed to provide you with two months worth of medications."

I nod as he places a large box on my desk, "And what are these extra pieces of equipment?"

He pulls up the lid of the box and reaches in.

"I've been his handler for three months and believe me when I say that he's a tough one, even with the training. He's got a big mouth and not enough respect to know when to keep it shut." He hands me an evil looking gag attached to a head harness. "This one comes with a blindfold attachment. You'll need to use it when he's out in public cause there it's easier than punishing him every time he looks at people." I nod meeting his eyes evenly, I was appalled of course but it doesn't help the situation, every time he looks at people. I can imagine what that has done to him.

I listen shaken and slightly nauseas as he pulls out the various pieces used to dehumanize the youth, my mouth dry as I usher them out of the room. I shake their hands and thank them for their time before shutting the door to my office a little too quickly behind them but it's better than showing them exactly how much I appreciate their efforts.

I take a few deep breaths and try to gather back my nerve. The young man, Reid I remind myself, is still sitting across from my desk. He's breathing heavily and his hands are clenched into fists. I notice his eyes on the stuff on my desk. I quickly walk over and pack it all back into the box before dumping it onto the floor.

I sit down across from him.

"Reid..." I managed before I realized, something is very wrong with his eyes. He wasn't focusing properly; he couldn't seem to decide on what to look at. And he was shaking slightly. I know this reaction I reminded myself, he's in free fall. Fuck

"Reid? Can you hear me? I need you to focus on my voice. You need to listen to my voice" I took his hand in mine and started stroking the palm, "Reid, can you feel that? Can you tell me what I'm doing, focus on the sensation; let it guide you back". I started to panic then, I had never had to deal with this on my own before and this looked like a bad one. His fingertips were turning blue, which meant that blood wasn't flowing well. I started to slap his hand and forearm while talking to him.

"Come on Reid. I really don't want to really hurt you here, but I will if I have to. I will if that's what you need. But I think you can do this without that, you can, I know it. Come on, come back to me" His hand clenched, his hand clenched and my heart stopped beating for a second. He blinked, he blinked and for the second time ever I found myself lost in his eyes.

"Are you with me?" I asked timidly and he nodded shakily. I reach over to feel his pulse but he jerks back instinctively, dragging his chair back a few inches in his haste to move out of my range.

"Reid, I just want to check your pulse. Please don't pull back" Protocol said, don't give them options, give them explanations. I ached to comfort him, take in hands in mine and tell him that it was all ok, but the correct procedure is to stabilize him through verbal instructions and check his vitals. Then if he was physically safe to take him to a place to sleep off the after effects of the free fall, most people gave them a sedative at this point but I wasn't sure that was the best option here. Six months of classes on dealing with seras and not a bone in my body felt like I was acting right.

I leant forward in the chair and slowly reached out my hand. He was shaking again as I took hold of is wrist and gently felt for his pulse. It was fast but regular, I signed inwardly in relief; he was fine. His skin was warm and his eyes clear. I didn't trust my judgment completely however, I would need to book him in to see Dr Harris as soon as possible and find out just what I was dealing with.

"Reid, you're fine. But you need to rest, our investigation has stalled and it's late so we're going home."

I can't speak. I feel numb in a very physical way, my feet don't register as I place them on the floor, my fingertips can't sense the rough edges of my coveralls they brush as I walk. I feel numb from the inside out.

Colours appear muted and voices I know aren't there chorus in my ears. Someone is sad while another is anxious, someone is angry and another vicious. And they're all telling me different things. I refuse to acknowledge who is speaking, too many hours spent being told as a child that yes, well, no one is actually there is far better training than any of the horrific training they could devise.

Everything was changing and I couldn't stop it, or even slow it down. Everything always changed and I never had a choice. I could feel it coming then, the fight I've been having all night with myself has finally ended. I'm lost to the voices and giving in to none.

I floated there in that chasm, somewhere between misery and despair but also somewhere close to acceptance or resignation. And as my mind stilled I felt less and less of my body, less pain, less hope; just less on and on.

And the voice that reached me wasn't that bitter string of pain I expected. It wasn't the agony of getting dragged back into my body, it was soothing and clear. It's time to return now and somehow I obeyed. I followed the sensations flowing through my body and the voice guiding me and suddenly I was sinking into his amazing warm eyes. Somehow I was back there in the room and my heart was racing and my skin tingling and my eyes were locked onto his.

But when he moved to touch me, I freaked. Please! I wanted to scream, don't ruin this, don't break this thing, don't hurt me, not now. But he merely wanted to check my pulse, I could have told him, why did need to touch me.

No one touches my bare skin, not even Hannah. She waits till I have my clothes on, even Harry grabs me by my hair or a strap of the harness. It felt strange after so long, painlessly burning, like all my nerves were firing, trying to save as much information as possible, trying to remember what is was like to be touched.

I wanted to grab him then, pull both those gentle hands into mine and run my palms against him, feel the roughness and warmth of his skin. But too soon it's over and he's rising, speaking about leaving, speaking about home, his home I realize, but he simply said home. Images of all the places I've called home flash across my eyes, locked closed now and growing cold, those images aren't helpful I tell myself. Follow him, I say, get into his car and sit quietly and when he asks you to do something, do it. Obey like you have been told to and never meet his eyes, never speak unless directly asked a question, never act unless instructed to do so. Obey! The words seared into my mind in raw and weeping letters, still they bleed.

Chapter 3

When in public with a single guardian the Sera must be restrained, a strap attached to their harness is usually fastened to the belt of the guardian or to a place in which they can be monitored by the guardian.

It felt so strange to pull out that long lead from its unused packet and unroll it, feeling the tough seatbelt like fabric rub against my fingers. And to lean over, fasten it with the small lock to the metal ring in the middle of his lower back. There was another ring under his hair at the back of his collar, but I didn't even consider using that one, too dangerous and too much like an animal would need.

Reid for his part didn't even glance at it while I fastened it; he obviously was very used to this type of thing. I clipped the other end to my belt and I picked up the box. We left the office then with me leading the way. I didn't miss the looks from my team as I walked past them and out to the lift. This wasn't the time to introduce them, tomorrow would be fine, now Reid just needed to eat and sleep.

He was quiet as we walked out to the car, not that I expected him to speak, but the silence was still strange when I was sure his mind was running full pelt. But his body was acting perfectly, a single step behind me and to the left, he was close enough to reach if I needed to but not imposing on my space and he match my pace perfectly. How many hours and reprimands had it taken for him to learn that skill I wondered cynically.

I opened the door to my car and unclipped the strap, refastening it to the hand-hold on the ceiling of the car. I would need a better place to fasten it I noted to myself. I put the box in the back and shut the boot. It wasn't easy driving in silence so I put on some music and tried to concentrate on the road. It wasn't a long drive but by the time we arrived home Reid was sleeping, his hands were clutched tightly together in his lap and a pained expression was on his face. Exhaustion had obviously won over; I wondered how long it had been since he had had a good night's sleep.

"Reid. You need to wake up now. We're here" I had opened the door and crouched beside the seat. He roused and without looking at me nodded. I stepped back to let him climb out before clipping off the lead. I rolled it up around my hand and unfastened it from his harness.

"When we are in the house, you won't need this. You can go anywhere within the house but you need to tell me if you want to go outside." I led him inside and gave him a short tour of the house. When we got to the spare room I led him inside.

"This is your room now. It's pretty plain but we can paint it and change the bed covers. You can decorate it anyway you like." I almost choked on the words, I was treating him like any other housemate, showing him the house and his room, telling him that he was free to use it as he liked. But the truth was that the bed had a metal frame designed to accommodate cuffs and straps, and there were locks on the door and window and he couldn't have missed the safety bars on the window. It was the best I could do though, there were regulations if I wanted to keep him here and these adjustments were done before I even knew him, I needed a room like this to keep my license valid. There was also nothing here with which he could hurt intentionally himself, in truth it was a very clinical room and I didn't go in here often.

"Let's get you some dinner" I said ushering him out of the room and closing the door behind us.

I sat him at the kitchen table and pulled out the ingredients.

"I haven't read your entire file yet, but I know that the medications you're on probably make you quite nauseous so I'm going to keep this a simple and plain as possible. If you can keep it down, tomorrow we'll try something more exotic." I got out some rice, chicken and vegetables and quickly pulled together a simple stir-fry with a small amount of sweet sauce.

We ate in silence. I was starting to grow very frustrated with it, so after I cleared away the dishes (he had only eaten half of his but I didn't comment) I sat him down and opened his file between us.

"We need to have a conversation about what is going to happen now. I need to get to know you, learn about the things not written in your file" I didn't feel ready for any of this, I didn't even know if I'd made the right decision about bringing him here. What if I caused more damage?

But now he was sitting in my kitchen scratching the inside of his own palm, I doubted he even realized he was doing it, but if he continued much longer he was going to break the skin. We needed to build some trust and the first step was getting to know him better, I knew it was unusual to want to speak with him in the manner but it felt right.

"I'm going to ask you some questions and I want you to give me truthful answers." He nods, "and I want you to look at me, meet my eyes when you speak." I added, to his obvious shock. It was against what we had both been trained to do but somehow that didn't matter, somehow it was the one thing of which I was sure.

"and I want you to look at me, meet my eyes when you speak" He said Look at me, and my thoughts froze, my heart stopped. Look at me and meet my eyes, the words rang again and again through my ears. He wanted me to do what I most desired, but somehow I couldn't drag my eyes up from my hands.

"Look at me" he said again, more forceful this time.

"Reid. Look at me. You did it before, you can do it now, I'm not going to punish you" I can't I wanted to scream, I didn't mean to do it before, you don't know what you're asking me. The shaking was back, my breathing ragged and my heart racing. But the voices were quiet and before I realized it I was staring into those warm eyes and a smile was on his lips.

"Thank you" he said, not once breaking my gaze. "I can read about you from your file but I'd like to hear it from you. How old are you?"

"24" The word was out before I realized it but he didn't seem to mind, in fact he looked pleased.

"When were you born?"

"October 12, 1981"

"Where?"

"Las Vegas" The words just came instinctively, without thought, but also without fear and god that felt good.

"Is that where you attended school?"

"Yes, for school. I went to university in New York"

"What did you study?"

"Psychology, Math and Anthropology. I have three PhDs" I realized my mistake after I had spoken and waited for the shock on his face to turn into anger. After that I knew what would come. But it never did, he simply pulled my file close to him and began flipping through the pages hastily, he was quiet for a few tense minutes reading over my background information. A strange expression was on his face as he flipped the file shut.

"Reid? When did the characteristics first appear?"

"I don't know…late" How could I explain it to him, how could be understand the fear I felt as a child watching his mother speaking to people who weren't there and wondering when they would start speaking to him as well. How can you explain the need to hide the truth, the fear that you are loosing your mind? How could I show him that moment when I couldn't hide it anymore and I fell finally, blindly, scraping my skin off with my nails trying desperately to crawl back into my own skin. I woke up in the training centre three days later with so many drugs in my system that I barely felt human.

He shook his head in disbelief and opened his mouth as if to question further, I couldn't handle that yet, I couldn't speak of that. I searched my mind for something to tell him, to give him something other to think of, some piece of information that would lead him away from this painful topic.

"Do you know where the term Sera comes from?" I asked him but continued before he could answer, "It's a colloquial term that first gained popularity during the early eighteenth century when people were starting to look at them no longer as witches and devils but as angels. They were nicknamed Seraphim as they displayed skills that were believed to be divine; they were always incredibly intelligent, empathic and seemed to not be bound to the physical world, like mere mortals.

When they took on another personality, it was believed that they 'fell' to earth, like the angels and were polluted with the sins of those they mimicked. The term 'free fall' was later added to describe the state in which neither the true identity nor the false one controlled the body, this state sometimes led to death and therefore it was believed that the person was lost to god and ended up in purgatory or hell.

The name was later shortened to Sera and the religious connotation was mostly lost except for the superstitious belief that a Sera can steal your soul or otherwise do you mental/spiritual damage if they touch or look at you." From the look on his face, I had succeeded in distracting him well, he looked almost amused.

"I didn't know that. Thank you for explaining it to me."

"You're welcome" I said nervously. Still I fought the urge to look away, but it was easier when I didn't have to think about what I was saying.

"Well, it's getting late and you look like you're about to drop, we'll continue this tomorrow. The rules say I have to check your body over before bed each night so I suggest we go to the bathroom and afterwards you can have a shower" I nod, I hate this part, Harry didn't always bother with it, but I could tell already that Hotch was a man who took his responsibilities seriously.

I could understand the logic of the checks, Seras didn't always realize then they had injured themselves, disconnection from the body was part of the problem, acceptance of pain as an everyday reality was the other.

He stood at the edge of the room, obviously a little embarrassed, as if he was the one who had to strip. I stood there for a minute waiting for him to realize that I couldn't undress without his help; the harness was locked on and he had the keys. Soon enough he realized the problem and pulled out the keys apologetically and set to undoing the straps. He gathered up all the pieces in a pile on the bench but stopped at my metal collar.

"I'm not meant to remove this, but I want to have a look at the skin under it." He said unclipping it and holding it in his hand. I felt a strange urge to grab it from him and hold it tight to my chest. This was the first time it had ever been removed since the day it had been fastened around my neck. It was a type of titanium chain-mail, which was loose enough to push a cloth under it but not loose enough to move around much on my neck. I had hated it then, now it felt like a piece of me was missing, I was standing completely clothed in my coveralls. I felt naked.

He stood behind me and unzipped the coveralls. I held my breath. But he stopped just below my shoulder blades and stepped back to allow me to pull it the rest of the way down. I stepped out of the suit, and waited for instructions. He was silent with a menacing look on his face, something had angered him but he didn't act on it, instead he took the suit from my hands and placed it in a wicker basket by the door.

"This is for dirty your clothing," he said indicating the basket.

He didn't specify that I should remove my underwear so I didn't, I just started the exercises that I had been taught to prove that I was fine. I stretched out each arm, leant over, bent my knees and raised myself up on my tiptoes, among others. But he didn't react. He watched passively, something was on his mind.

But when I began twisting my wrists he stopped me and grabbed my left wrist.

"Stop" he ordered and I did shifting nervously as he felt around the joint and down the bone.

"Why didn't you tell me you'd hurt your wrist?" I though about that statement for a minute confused. I didn't realize I'd hurt it. I tried to think back over the last few days to when I could have injured it, maybe when Harry yanked me by that wrist's cuff when I had been too slow getting out of the car, maybe it was when I had fallen over in the lobby yesterday when he had led me angrily out of the FBI office, he had been walking to fast and the lead had pulled me off balance. It could have been any one of a number of occasions. I knew the bruises scattered all over my body spoke of the roughness with which I was often treated.

"Take a shower but don't use your left hand. I want to bandage it up after you finish showering." He walked out then, quickly, almost slamming the door in his haste.

I could almost taste my fury. His body was covered in bruises, more than could ever be expected from clumsiness, even from a Sera. I recognized enough to know that it wasn't intentional abuse that had caused the marks, but someone had been very rough with the physically fragile young man. Most of the marks probably came from being pushed or dragged; they weren't done to cause pain. If they had wanted to cause pain, they had a more effective and impossible to observe method at their disposal. I'm sure they used it regularly.

I'd fought the urge to touch him, feel his tender skin for injuries below the surface. I didn't want to scare him but when I saw his wrist ringed in almost black bruises and swollen I almost swore, cursing the bastards who had done this. Don't overreact I had to remind myself, he doesn't realize how bad it is, don't scare him.

I took a breath and told him to shower, minding the wrist and walked out, any more time looking at that too thin frame, pale and hurting and I would snap.

"Yeah, I know. It's not something I ever imagined myself doing either" I replied, flipping through the file to get to the medical section.

"Thanks for agreeing to see us so soon! I know you don't usually treat Sera. I just have one more question, these medications he's on, the side effects are pretty bad and he's on what looks like a strangely high dosage. Can I reduce the dosage tonight before I we come in tomorrow? Or will that be too dangerous?"

"I see. Ok thanks. See you tomorrow then" I hung up the phone. Dr. Michael Harris was one of the most acclaimed psychiatrists in the country though he still practiced as a physician to a select few patients he'd treated before he moved into psychiatry I was one of the lucky few who could call him a friend and I needed one now.

Reid had finished his shower and gathering up the spare pair of pajamas I'd found I pushed open the door and placed them on the bench.

"These are for you. We'll get you some new ones tomorrow" he pulled the pants on awkwardly obviously trying not to use his left hand as I had instructed. I stopped him before he attempted to pull on the shirt.

"Let's deal with that wrist first" I said picking up a bandage I'd brought in with me.

"I called a Doctor friend of mine while you were showering. He's agreed to see us tomorrow morning before work. He told me to bandage your wrist tonight and they'll x-ray it tomorrow to see if you've broken it." I told him while carefully circling his wrist and hand with the bandage.

"Is this too tight?" When he didn't reply I tried again, "Reid, is this too tight?"

"no" he whispered. Suddenly he looked exhausted, I mentally berated myself for not putting him to bed earlier. He'd been exhausted at the office and here I was dragging him through dozens of hurdles to quench my own anxiety. I nodded.

"Ok, let's get you to bed then." I helped him pull the shirt on, careful not to touch him and led him to his room. I let him settle on the bed before reaching for the drug kit.

"I have to give you the full dose tonight. It's a lot but Dr. Harris said that you need to stay at the same dosage they kept you at until he can examine you." I pulled out the vials; four different drugs were to be given before he went to sleep each night, one injected directly into the blood stream. It seemed that they didn't trust him with pills. I scowled, with dosages this high, I probably wouldn't want to swallow them either.

I filled the needles quickly and gave him the shots, I couldn't help but feel guilty when he almost instantly swayed and slid unconscious onto the mattress. I was thankful that I had had the forethought to pull back the covers before sitting him on the bed. I slip his feet up and under the rest of the covers before clipping the cuffs attached to the end of the bed around his ankles. I pulled the rest of the bedspread over his chest and turned off the light. I sent up a prayer to whoever was listening that his dreams would be kind that night.