ROSEMARY - spencer reid

F O U R T E E N

CHAPTER 14: THE CAPTURE

Ramón Sanchez's POV

[October 7th, 2009]

It has been two days since I made my little visit to the Jareau house.

My girl has hardly made a peep since then, and I can tell that she is growing lonely. I only let her up to use the bathroom and eat, but now she doesn't even fight the ropes anymore. The absence of her usual pluck is making me grow quite bored of having her around, so I decide that it is time to carry out the next part of my plan.

"I'll be back." I inform her, and she doesn't even turn her head to look at me, staring blankly at the wall.

I lock the door behind me and follow the path to my truck, climbing in and starting the engine. I quickly make my way to the apartment building where Dr. Reid lives, looking at the dashboard clock.

4:53 a.m.

It is a little later than I usually act out my missions, but I am willing to make an exception. I park in front of the building, looking again at the address book and confirming Reid's apartment number. I grab my homemade lock-picking kit and my extra bottle of chloroform with the same rag I used the first time. I pocket the second two items and quickly make my way to Spencer's door, picking the lock proficiently before making my way inside without making a noise.

I see a small amount of light coming from what I assume to be the kitchen, and I silently walk over, finding my assumption to be correct. The dining table is completely covered with files, papers strewn everywhere. Spencer Reid is asleep in one of the wooden chairs, his face resting against the tabletop and his arms splayed across it.

He still wears his work clothes, but his holster and gun have been set aside on the counter in the conjoined kitchen. I make my way over to it, moving it into one of the cabinets where he wouldn't know where to find it if he struggles against me to get to it.

I silently ready the rag and chloroform, crossing the room to stand behind him. His head is turned to the side, so I grab the back of his neck to hold him there as I hold the rag under his nose. He snaps awake and begins to shout in surprise, jerking his shoulders up against my grip. He holds his breath and tries to stand up, but I keep him pinned to the table. His arms swing helplessly back behind him, clutching onto my shirt and pulling roughly in an attempt to get me away from him.

After a long fight, he finally has to take a breath, sucking in the chemical and eventually falling unconscious.

꧁꧁꧂꧂

Dr. Spencer Reid's POV

I blearily awake to the sound of rolling aluminum cans and the jolt of a vehicle driving over a bump. I swallow, opening my eyes and trying to move my limbs. I discover that my hands are tied behind my back and I am in the covered back of a pickup truck. I look around to see if there is anything that I could use to cut the rope wrapped around my wrists, but there is nothing but empty beer cans tumbling around me.

After a few minutes of straining against the ropes, the truck makes a sharp turn before stopping. I hold my breath as the driver exits the vehicle and circles around to the tailgate, the sound of his shoes crunching against gravel barely audible over the rushing blood thundering through my ears. The back of the truck opens up, revealing the sight of Ramón Sanchez pointing a gun at me.

"You're awake." he comments, and I swallow roughly.

I gasp in fear as he grabs my ankle, quickly dragging me off the edge of the truck bed. I land on my back in the rocks, the air rushing from my lungs in a pained grunt.

"Sir, plea-" I start to speak when I have my breath back, but he reaches down and grabs my arm, hauling me onto my feet and shoving me forward.

"Walk." He commands, and I hesitate, earning another sharp push between my shoulder blades.

I begin to walk into the forest when I hear his gun click, the barrel being pushed up against the back of my neck. Throughout the seemingly never-ending hike, I fall down many times. I am unable to catch myself due to my hands being tied behind my back, so by the time we reach a clearing I am actually somewhat relieved.

In the middle of the field, I can see the dark outline of a structure. As we draw nearer, I can identify it as a medium-sized hunting cabin, but it is in rough condition so I can tell that it hasn't been used in many years.

He keeps the gun trained on me as he unlocks the door, dragging me inside in my still-dazed state. Grabbing the back of my neck, he pushes me down into a slight bow as we walk further into the cabin, trying to establish a dominant position due to the fact that I am taller than he is. I am finally able to look up when I am pushed onto a wooden chair, and I see her.

"Rosemary." I whisper to myself when my eyes land on her battered form.

I feel Sanchez begin to tie me onto the wooden frame of the chair in the dining room, but my eyes refuse to leave her. She is tied to a recliner in the living room, and she is slumped over. I think that she is unconscious, but she is as still and as quiet as death itself.

When Sanchez notices that I am not even paying attention to him, he grabs his gun and suddenly hits the side of my head with the butt of it. I cry out in pain, my vision growing black around the edges before fading completely.

I am dragged into darkness, and the last thing I hear is a cold chuckle escaping the lips of our captor.