New Guy in the BAU

RECON

(Y/N)'s P.O.V.

I could feel my heart racing at a million miles an hour as Travis came closer to me. Come on (Y/N), you can't look pathetic around this man. Don't give him that satisfaction. I took a deep breath and glared at him, his green eyes smiling back at me. It was an evil smile. "Now normally," Travis started, "I use my test subjects to practice simple medical procedures. However, women bore me." I groaned in disgust as he traced his finger on my chest and started to undo my shirt buttons. It disgusts me that he's doing this, and filming this no less. "Men are.... More desirable," he growled, "much harder to hunt for, but so much more worth it to have fun with. You see, I don't want to just use you as a lab rat, I know that it'll be a matter of time before the FBI comes." He leaned in closer and whispered in my ear, "I was just going to kill you but thought, 'let's show the FBI what happens when they try to call me arrogant.'" Shit. He's gonna film me being tortured. He's going to kill me before the others can find me. Shit, don't think like that (Y/N). They'll find you. You just need to hold on until they find you.

Travis walked over to the table and pulled out a pair of trauma shears from a drawer. "Now, I can't have fun with you if you're all dressed up like that," Travis smiled and walked back over to me, "besides, I want to see what all you've got goin' on down there." I gulped and prepared myself for the humiliation that was to follow. I guess just unbuttoning my clothing wasn't good enough.... I felt the cold metal of the shears on my back as he began to tear my button down shirt in half. Travis then took the shears up my arms and cut the sleeves. I felt the two halves of what was once my shirt fall to the ground. I can already feel the cold air causing the hairs on my arms to stand up. "Ah, I see you work out," Travis smiled, "just how I like my men, toned, but not too buff. We're gonna have so much fun tonight." As I held back the urge to not throw up, I felt the shears making their way down my pant legs before my pants fell to the ground. "Don't worry, I'll keep your boxers on for now," Travis winked, "we aren't quite there yet." I held my glare, but no matter how dirty of a look I gave him, he just smiled back in a sweet but deadly manner. "Now cher, you really gotta quit glaring at me like that," Travis grabbed a knife, "unless you want me to carve a nice smile into your face. I scream out against the gag, hoping that anyone would be able to hear me. Even if it's a long shot, I don't care. "Keep screaming all you want," Travis smirked, "no one is gonna hear you but me. And I like to hear you scream." Fuck, please, Reid, Morgan, Rossi, anyone, please hurry..... 

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Reid's P.O.V.

"Please tell me that you have that list put together Garcia," Morgan asked over the phone. "Yes, yes," she replied, "I've gathered a list of all of the employees and owners of the café. It will be at your computer... right now." I immediately pulled up the list of current and past employees over the last year. "So far, there's 72 names of employees within the last year." "Okay Garcia, now narrow that down to males ages 24-32," I added. "Down to 32," Garcia responded. "Any of those guys have any kind of college background focused on medicine?" Prentiss asked. "Negative," Garcia stated. "None of the male employees in that demographic have any kind of medical background." Hotch started dialing the café owner's phone number. 

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(Y/N)'s P.O.V. 

It's getting harder and harder to keep my eyes open. Probably from the bruising that's starting to form on the left side of my face. He has been going off and on for what has had to be at least an hour. He started with just punching me, but had then brought out a whip and cracked it against my back and chest. I can feel the blood still running down my body from that. These fucking restraints have also been cutting into my body, just adding to the cuts. I'm trying to figure out where I am, but so far, all that I have been able to deduce is that I'm in some kind of basement/garage. Suddenly, I heard the basement door swing open and Travis started to come back down the steps. I could feel the pit feeling in my stomach start to come back. "Well, are you ready to calm down now cher?" Travis asked, putting his hand on the side of my face. I pulled my head back and glared. "Well now, that's not very friendly of you," Travis smiled and pulled out a knife. Suddenly, a sharp burning started in my left thigh as I felt the knife gash across the skin. I tried to remain silent, but a wince escaped my mouth as I could hear the tears welling up in my eyes.  Travis cupped the side of my face again. "Now, that's more like it," he smiled, "was that so hard now cher?" All I could do was glare at him. This is not the time to show any kind of weakness. I'm not going to give this psychopath what he wants. "Now, I just need you to stay like this for one second," Travis smiled and stepped away, "then we can go from here." There was suddenly a flash. I began to feel sick to my stomach as I saw that he was now taking photos of me. "I'll say this cher," Travis smiled, "for as big of a pain you have been in my side, you sure do photograph well. I'll be back later." He left and ascended back up the stairs. 

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Reid's P.O.V. 

"I just got off the phone with the owner of the café," Hotch started, "Apparently, one of their nephews comes in to help whenever he can from time to time under the table. That's why he wasn't showing up on the employee database. Garcia, get me everything you can on a Travis Lawe." "Alright," Garcia started over the phone, "Travis Lawe, born in 1993, making him currently 28 years old was born and raised in New Orleans. His father was a Lutheran pastor and his mother was a youth case worker. He went to college at The University of the Holy Cross for biology pre-pharmacy but did not meet the qualifications to go on to grad school for pharmacy. He was a pharmacy tech at the local CVS and was fired two months ago for potential narcotics use." "That's our guy," Hotch started, "Garcia-". "his address has been sent to all of your phones," Garcia interjected. "Alright, let's go," Hotch started and left the conference room. We all got up and headed out to the vehicles. 

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(Y/N)'s P.O.V. 

"Alright cher," Travis started, "I'm gonna let you down, but we gotta make sure you don't try to run off once you're no longer tied up from the ceiling." I could feel my heart race as he walked over with the hammer. "Now this, well, this'll probably hurt you quite a bit, but I'm not gonna feel a thing," Travis laughed. I screamed out in pain through the gag as the hammer blew against my right leg. I could feel the bones crack in my shin as the pain shot through my whole body. Travis laughed and cut down the restraints. More pain shot through my body as my legs hit the ground, causing me to immediately collapse onto the ground. I cursed to myself as the tears began to flow down my face, mixing with the blood that was already puddled on the garage floor. It's getting harder and harder to stay awake through the pain and blood loss. I laid my head back onto the concrete floor. It was so cold down here, so dark. All I could hear was Travis laughing. I closed my eyes. I don't want to fight him anymore, and give him the satisfaction of seeing me scared. Before slipping out of consciousness, I could hear sirens and a crashing noise before everything faded to black. 

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Reid's P.O.V. 

We all rounded up around all of the entrances to the house. Morgan and I were in the front door, Hotch, Prentiss, and Rossi were around the back. "Travis Lawe, FBI, open up!" Morgan commanded. Upon hearing no response, Morgan kicked down the door and we all moved in. "Clear!" he called from the living room. "Clear!" I called out after checking the hallway and bathroom to the left of the hallway. "Clear!" I could hear Hotch in the kitchen and dining area. "Morgan, you and Reid take the door leading to the basement from the side of the house. We'll go down through the stairs," Hotch commanded. I nodded and followed Morgan out to the side of the house. "Morgan! Up ahead!" I yelled as I saw a man running down the side of the house. Morgan began to run towards him, police following him as I entered the basement side entrance. I gasped as I saw (Y/N)'s limp body laying bound on the floor in a pool of blood. "I found him!" Reid called out. Rossi, Prentiss, and Hotch then came down the steps of the basement and ran over. Rossi pulled out a pocket knife and cut the zip ties cutting into (Y/N)'s wrists. "I need a medic in the basement. Federal Agent injured," Hotch called over the radio. "(L/N)," I called out, "(L/N), can you hear me?" Without receiving a response, I checked for a pulse. "He still has a pulse, but it's not very strong. He's lost too much blood." Suddenly, the team of paramedics came through the side and immediately took over, loading (Y/N) onto a stretcher and applying pressure to his wounds. "Suspect is in custody," I heard police announce over the loudspeaker. "Reid, go with them to the hospital," Hotch stated. I nodded and hopped up into the ambulance and got a good look at (Y/N). His face was cut and bruised. There were lacerations and bruises all over his body. The paramedics were applying pressure to a large cut on his left leg. His right leg was swelling and clearly broken. The new agent was hooked up to oxygen and his vitals were weak. As we came to the hospital, (Y/N) was immediately whisked away on a gurney and I was directed to the waiting room. I sat back and waited for the others, praying for (Y/N) to pull through, and that we found him before he lost too much blood.