From the Shadows

Chapter Seven

"Out on the street, I'm stalking the night, I can hear my heavy breathing. Paid for the kill but it doesn't seem right. Something there I can believe in." Ozzy Osbourne –'Shot in the Dark'.

Spencer felt goose bumps creeping up on every part of his bare flesh. His entire left hand throbbed incessantly. The crazed woman had decided to tighten his shackles further, drawing blood from his wrists. He could feel the warm liquid trickle down his fingers, dripping steadily on the floor with soft splats. He could hear the sounds of bubbling and clattering of ceramic. He could smell melted cheese which made his stomach grumble. He had no idea how long he had been in his bizarre prison for, or when he last ate. The gag and blindfold kept him completely disorientated.

"Mmph." Spencer tried to clear the itch from the back of his throat. The noise, from what Spencer could only assume was the kitchen, ceased. Every part of his body was aching.

"Spencer! How was your nap?" Nap? Wait... Did I fall asleep? Spencer attempted to shuffle himself more upright, having realised that he had slumped in the chair. The handcuffs bit into his skin, releasing more blood. Spencer grunted.

"I made Mac and Cheese. Would you like some? You haven't eaten since you got here and that's about twenty hours ago now." Twenty hours? "You don't mind sharing with me, do you?" He had definitely heard that before. Spencer cocked his head in curiosity. No... A pair of hands fumbled with the knot at the back of his head. The silky material fell away from his face. Spencer blinked several times to readjust his vision. He squinted against the onslaught of light searing his retinas. As he looked up, he immediately recognised the face grinning down on him. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"You weren't expecting it to be me, were you? That's disappointing. I thought you'd missed me. Then again. You never called me. You never thought about me, did you?" Spencer grunted in another fruitless effort to free himself. His body trembled as his captor disappeared behind him. The material was draped over his eyes again and tied tightly at the back of his head, reigniting the pain from his head wound. Fingers fumbled with the corner of the tape and tore it harshly away from his skin. Spencer was unable to hold back his gasp of pain. He swallowed thickly and licked his raw, bleeding lips.

"Please," rasped Spencer, "I'm sorry if I upset you. I really need some water." Spencer hated the sound of begging in his voice. A straw was pressed to his lips. He guzzled the water greedily, his tongue feeling like sandpaper, "Thank you."

"So... Do you want some Mac and Cheese?"

"I'm lactose intolerant. But thank you."

"Oh," responded the woman nonchalantly, "I don't really have anything else. I have eggs?" Spencer shook his head.

"No, thank you." He heard a groan of exasperation as the woman's footsteps disappeared. Using the moment of peace, Spencer decided to process his situation. How didn't I realise it was her? She has been watching me for years. My murder charge wasn't publicised, so how did she know? Only members of the bureau knew. The footsteps approached him again. He felt a beaker press to his lips.

"What is this?" asked Spencer warily.

"It's protein shake. Shut up and drink it." The desperate growl of his stomach made him relent. He gulped the shake like a dying man. It filled his stomach more than he had expected.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." The beaker moved away from his mouth. At least he had a pleasant taste of strawberry in his mouth. He could hear tugging and tearing.

"You don't have to do that," commented Spencer, his voice quivering.

"Yes, I do. I can't risk the neighbours hearing you. I know you'll scream for help at the first opportunity, Spencer." A new large piece of tape was applied lovingly to his lips, effectively silencing him again. Spencer let out a long, defeated breath out of his nose, "It's time for you to go to sleep for a while. I have to go out." Spencer knew what was coming and tried to turn away as much as possible. He felt the familiar prick of the needle in his neck. As the coldness spread through his limbs, he felt the woman fastening his shirt back up all the way to the collar. Her voice sounded like it was under water.

"You're cold." The shirt collar snuggly circling his neck felt alien to him. He never wore his shirt collar fastened. It felt claustrophobic, "Sleep tight." Spencer's eyes fluttered shut under the blindfold as he descended into a world of darkness.

The team filed into the conference room. David was the first to notice the scattered files on the floor. He quirked a thick, dark eyebrow quizzically. He dropped into a seat and surveyed the situation in front of him. Emily was stood at the front wringing her hands. JJ was seated to her right, clinging to the arms of the chair as though they were all that was keeping her upright. Tara seated herself next to David. She too noticed the mess. Luke and Matt followed, deep in conversation. They both fell silent at the sight of Emily and took their usual seats. A single chair stood empty near the window; the seat that Spencer would normally occupy. Penelope was the last to arrive, her heels tapping in time with her steps. Her cobalt blue outfit was incongruous to the atmosphere in the room. She spotted the mess on the floor.

"What happened here?" asked the bespectacled analyst.

"Please, take a seat, Garcia," responded Emily as she tried to put on her best stoic mask.

"What's going on, Emily?" asked David. JJ anxiously nibbled her fingertips.

"You've probably noticed that we're missing a member. I've handed over our case of the women to another team. We have another that takes priority. Sometime between us leaving here last night and this morning, Reid was taken from his apartment. Someone broke into his apartment and accosted him with a vase. There were photographs pinned to his door of him unconscious and cuffed." Emily swallowed guiltily, "Reid came to me yesterday morning with letters and photographs. He believed he was being stalked and has been for a number of weeks. I... I dismissed him."

"We know this stalker is a woman. She drew a heart on the photographs in blood. Spencer's blood," answered JJ. Everyone looked at each other sheepishly. They knew something was wrong with the young doctor, they just chose not to press him too hard.

"He said that we would think he was crazy when I said he could talk to any of us. He just told us that he was tired from not sleeping. Something to do with prison," said Luke, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"We all dismissed him. He was terrified of being alone in his apartment with his stalker and his nightmares," responded JJ in a low, guilt-laced voice.

"We need to look back through Spencer's past cases where the primary focus was a woman and he played a big part. This is likely to be before most of us joined the team. Garcia? You've been here the whole time. You might remember some of them. Go back to when Gideon was still part of the team," ordered Emily, "Let's get to it. Spencer doesn't have much time."