gut feeling

two: welcome

Hotch squinted up at the splintering wooden roof above him and tried to recall what had just happened. The fact that his memory was so blank and that he didn't know where he was, needless to say, unnerved him.

"This must be a hideout... or maybe even a dumpsite." Hotch thought gravely.

He stood up and immediately hit his head on the roof which looked a lot higher than it was-- or maybe that was just Hotch's blurry vision interfering with his other senses.

A quiet chuckle came from behind him.

Hotch whipped around, stumbling at his own sudden movement. He braced himself against the closest wall-- a dirt wall?-- and stood still until the world stopped swaying. Only then did he look up to see who had laughed, but the culprit had ended up right next to him as he was trying to  steady himself. Hotch jumped again.

"Sorry, Hotch, that was my fault. Are you okay?" Spencer asked calmly.

"I'm fine, Reid. Thanks." He slowly looked around, trying to avoid getting dizzy again. "Looks like we're underground."

"Yeah. It's some kind of man made cellar. There are the steps. I don't know how they reinforced the trapdoor for sure, but I think they just weighed it down, based off of how it bent when I tried to lift it. It's at least too heavy to notice any kind of lock."

"Okay. Maybe we can open it together?"

Both Hotch and Spencer didn't think it would work, but they tried anyway.

Just as they guessed, it did not work.

There was a sudden banging and clanking above their heads-- Spencer and Hotch jumped away from the trapdoor.

"It's opening." Hotch whispered. "I'll wait over here so I can attack when he looks in or comes down."

Spencer nodded and went into the direct line of sight of the trapdoor opening.

The trapdoor opened-- Spencer immediately knew from how no light entered the room that they were either extremely deep in the forest, or it was night. "Or, both." He thought.

Hotch prepared to strike, but suddenly backed away. A body dropped into the opening.

"Emily?" Spencer ran to the body.

The body was still.

Hotch and Spencer hurried to see her as the trapdoor slammed closed. They turned her over.

It wasn't Emily.

"Possibly another potential victim. Maybe just a threat, or--" Hotch was reaching to check the pulse but Spencer stopped him. He was putting her wrist down softly.

"She's already dead, Hotch." He sighed.

Hotch closed his eyes tightly and rubbed his forehead.

The trapdoor opened again. 

"Let's go, agents. We're all waiting for you." A voice said.

Female. "Queenie Richards." Hotch and Spencer thought.

This is when Spencer and Hotch learned that these unsubs did not like to move slowly. They didn't even have time to process the dead woman that was just thrown at them.

A short climb later, they realized that they were, in fact deep in the woods towards the end of the night. Spencer looked up and saw the dense dying foliage. In front of them was a small fire illuminating a small circle of people. They were also, Hotch noted, being led there by Queenie.

Once they arrived at the group, they saw that the people were none other than their own team. They all looked alert (but tired) and were tied to different kinds of weights, with ripped cloth gagging them. They looked relieved to see Hotch and Spencer and struggled to sit up straighter to see if they were hurt in any way.