The Hills [ S.R. ]

chapter 11

TW: Mention of panic attacks

You're sitting in a silver chair in the middle of a familiar concrete room. The only light coming from the fluorescent ones above your head. Your hands are tied behind your back and the chair is bolted to the floor. You begin to cry, yelling out for Sasha. She responds with a weak voice, telling you to calm down. You continue to thrash in your seat, the rope digging into the skin of your wrists. It burns and you try your best to ignore it. You need to get out of there.

"HELLO! HELLOOO! I NEED TO USE THE RESTROOM!" you yell in an attempt for someone to come through the only door in the room.

No one enters and you continue yelling for help, your voice growing weaker and weaker by the minute until no sound comes out. You look down at your clothes and see blood that's seeped into them and it's soaked. Your brain runs a million miles a minute. You begin to freak out before someone roughly grabs your face.

"What? Are you gonna die on me whore?" the man spits, your saliva collecting where your mouth was open. You see a knife in his hand through hooded eyes and he slowly drags the tip of the blade along your arm, to the collar of your shirt. He swiftly cuts the fabric, exposing your collarbones. He pushes down on the space below your right collarbone, cutting into you. You yelp as you feel the blood ooze down your chest. You look over at Sasha, fast asleep, not an injury in sight. As time goes on, your vision begins to darken. Just as you're about to allow yourself to fall into this black void you hear yelling. You can barely keep your eyes open when you feel the guy who took you pull your head back by your hair, knife at your throat. The voices of those who entered are jumbled and seem distant. Your vision blurs and you hear a loud bang. 

Then it's darkness.

...

"(Y/n)?" Spencer shakes you awake as you immediately sit up gasping for breath. After a second you lean into him and begin to sob. The nightmare felt so real. "Are you okay? What's wrong? What happened?" Spencer interrupts himself to hold you tighter, petting and playing with your hair to get you to calm down. Once you get a grip on reality, you pull away rubbing your eyes.

"Umm, so I- umm. Before, I joined the BAU, shit, before I even went to college something umm well, something happened to me..." You take a deep breath and close your eyes, shifting your body closer to him just in case you couldn't continue and began to breakdown again. "Basically, Sasha and I, our parents came into a lot of money one day. We never understood why. We would ask our parents about it, and we got the same answer every time. 'It's better if you don't know mijita.' That's what my dad would tell me. It didn't ever really make sense either. My parents were divorced, but they still shared that mysterious wealth. Ultimately, it was going to put me through college, through life. I don't know to what extent it's for me, but I do know that currently, I don't have to really pay a thing. Not for my apartment or furniture or subscription services. When I called my mom, she seemed confused that I had found my place in law enforcement. In fact, she got angry with me. She didn't talk to me for a couple months when I was in undercover ops. When she was finally ready to speak, I shared with her that Hotch wanted me on the team. It set her off again, time and time again she told me to give up on this- this l-life, this career. But I told her I needed to be here. I needed to put people like the ones who took me, away." It felt good to finally let someone in. You hadn't shared this with Penelope, but you were sure she had seen it in the background check she did on you all that time ago.

"What do you mean took you? Is that what you were dreaming about?" Spencer's voice was timid, he was treading lightly. He didn't want to pry and he also didn't want you to have a panic attack; which you had shared you'd have sparsely in your teens.