Hatred // spencerreidxreader

Taken

!!!!TW!!!! CUTTING and TORTURE

"In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years." - Abraham Lincoln

When you wake up, you feel as though your body is restricted. Your wrist, ankles, and waist are tied to a chair backed up to a support beam. You shake your head as you remember what happened. You were kidnapped. You don't want to open your eyes, because when you do, it becomes real. As your sitting there, all at once, the pain starts rushing through your body. You felt achy and sick, you were drugged. When you opened your eyes you looked down, only to see all of the cuts on your body. The cuts ran down your arms, your thighs, and though you couldn't see them, your face too. You tried not to wince as the banging inside your head only grew louder each second. You had gathered that you have a concussion, so you can't fall asleep. Great. You were taken and now you have to sit through it all. 

Suddenly, you heard the door open, John Curtis stepping in. He looked at you like you were the answer to all of his questions. As far as you know, you could be. He sighed before starting to talk. 

"Hey, your finally awake. I had begun to think I killed you." He faked a frown. "You know better than anyone, that my team will find me. When they do, their going to take you down." You spat. He continued, "Oh yeah, they'll find you, all right. The question is, will you be alive when they do? Probably not, but we'll see." He stared at you for a moment. He broke his gaze as he reached in his back pocket and pulled out a knife. He walked over to you and grabbed your hand. You tried to jerk your hand out from his grip, but it was no use. He began slowly cutting into your wrists, making sure to not cut too deeply. Even in your dazed state of mind, you knew that meant he was planning on keeping you alive. For now. As you were grateful, you also knew that meant more torture. He had just begun. He turned his back towards you and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You let out a sigh of relief. He was done for now. 

You felt your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. You knew you couldn't sleep because of your concussion, but your mind and body had other plans. You drifted to sleep unwillingly. 

"Spencer?... Spencer!... Hey Spence... I-I'm right here.... please... h-help me..."  You screamed. You woke up, realizing that you had just been mumbling your screams. Curtis had entered the room while you were asleep. You woke up to him shaking you roughly. As you opened your eyes, you looked at him, causing you to jump back. He laughed at your attempt to get away from him. You weren't asleep for more than five minutes. There is a clock on the wall that read 1:56 a.m. You had been gone for a little over thirty minutes. You know Hotch gets back in the office at six, but before you left, he said that he was just going to stay there. In response, I told him that I would be back at 6:10 a.m. A couple more hours, you just had to take the torture. The drugs were out of your system since he slit your wrist earlier. 

He looked at you with a sad face as he mocked you, "Spencer, Spencer, please! Help me! Pfft please, for as long as I've been watching you guys, you and Spencer have kept me the most entertained. You hate each other with a passion, yet you still called his name in your dream. Why? Why would you call out the name of the person you hate most?" He paused to think, he clicked his tongue then continued. "You called out his name because you don't hate him. You called his name because you like him. Don't you? You like boy genius." He remarked. "Don't... don't call him that." You spat. "He hates it." You said, trying to sound strong, but your voice came out weak and defeated.