Over Your Shoulder

Chapter One

Over Your Shoulder

"There's a fine line between stalking and being in love with someone. Unfortunately, it's hard to read that line when you're wearing rose-coloured glasses."- Unknown.

Chapter One

15/04/2020. 03:35 hours. David Rossi's House, Virginia.

It had been one month since the United States stood still. President Trump ordered the shutdown of workplaces, schools, non-essential stores, and public meeting places. The day that everyone was ordered to remain at home to prevent the spread of SARS-CoV-2, coined the infamous COVID-19. It was the day that most serial killers vanished into hiding. The keyword being most. Some still managed to work under the radar. The BAU had been forced to work from home where possible to build profiles and do consults via conference calls, leaving the police precincts to carry out the rest of the investigations and arrests. Dr Spencer Reid and David Rossi shared an office space within David's oversized home, or as he so aptly referred to it, his 'mansion'. The pair were often nose deep in consults at their respective laptops. Having each other made the isolation that much more bearable.

Spencer twitched in his sleep, sweat beading his brow. A small mewl left his lips, his brow furrowed. His right hand clenched the navy comforter twisted around his legs. His bare chest rose and fell rapidly with each choked breath.

Spencer slowly peeled open his eyes to find himself in a cold, dank room. A single lightbulb hung from a rusty chain in the ceiling. He was laid on an uncomfortable mattress. He attempted to sit himself up, only to find that his wrists had been bound tightly to each post of the wrought-iron headboard. He glanced down to see his ankles bound in a similar fashion to the bed frame. He was laid spread out, and he was naked. He wanted to call out to whomever had him but was stopped by a strip of duct tape pasted firmly over his lips, sealing them shut.

"Good. You're finally awake. I've missed you, Spence." Spencer's eyes widened in horror, and he fought against his restraints. The rope rubbed harshly against his skin. He desperately wanted to scream at her to get away from him, but his words were trapped. He shook his head and yelled curses at her through the tape. He knew the words would be muffled and incoherent, but he had to get them out of his system. His captor's emerald eyes glinted maliciously in the low light of the room. A blade hovered unnervingly close to his genitals. He squeezed his eyes shut as the blade bit into his sensitive flesh.

"Spencer…"

"Spencer…"

"Spencer? Spencer! Wake up!" Spencer's eyes flew open, wide and wild, and sat bolt upright in the bed. He was covered in a cold sweat as though he had been doused with a bucket of ice water. David had a hand resting gently on Spencer's shoulder. Spencer's chest heaved for breath, and his mouth was bone dry. He blinked several times to restore the focus to his vision.

"Dave?" gasped Spencer, his voice low and raspy.

"Yeah, kiddo. You were having a nightmare. Your scream woke me up." Spencer pressed a shaking palm to his forehead and let out a long breath.

"I'm sorry." David moved his hand and perched on the side of the bed.

"Okay. You know that we've gotta talk about it." Spencer nodded slightly, his long brown curls brushing against his shoulders.

"I woke up in a dark room, like a basement. I was tied naked to the bed and was gagged. It was Mel. She had a knife and held it to my penis and began to cut. That was right as you woke me up."

"Mel can't hurt you anymore. She's in prison."

"Dave, we both know that doesn't mean anything. Look at Scratch with Hotch." David gave a resigned sigh.