Note to Readers: This story was started by imminentCalamity and I have offered to finish it for her. She gets all the credit for the intro and first three chapters, which I have re-typed here. Sorry if it's not verbatim, Wattpad wouldn't let me copy and paste.
It started off as a normal night. Alone in his apartment, Spencer Reid curled up in the warm comfort of his bed, surrounded by several piles of books. He let out a short yawn. Then set down the book he was currently reading, The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway, and glanced over at his alarm clock. The time, 2:43, glared at him with a bright red, bold font. He rubbed his eyes wearily and sat up. He had lost track of time again, and had to be at work early in the morning. He felt sort of guilty for depriving himself of sleep for the third day in a row.
He reached out and gathered all of his precious novels in a pile and wiggled off of the bed. Walking to the living room, he made sure to pick up any stray books lying around on his way to the bookshelf. It took him several minutes to organize the books alphabetically.
Returning to his bedroom, he realized he was still in his work clothes. He quickly rid himself of his dress pants, long-sleeved shirt, and sweater vest and slipped into something more comfortable, a t-shirt and sweatpants. He once again entwined himself in the sheets, this time turning off the light and shutting his eyes.
He was just on the edge of slumber when there was a knocking on the front door. He muttered to himself in annoyance and checked the clock again before wrestling out of his covers. It was now 3:17. He paused, none of his neighbors would be up this late. As a precaution, he grabbed his gun from a safe box kept underneath his bed and shoved it in the waistband of his pants. Then he leaned over and unplugged his clock. He shuffled over to the door and squinted as he looked through the peephole, he forgot to put on his glasses. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw his neighbor, Jeff, standing in the hallway.
He opened the door, "Hey, what's wrong? Shouldn't you be aslee..." he was cut off as a figure with a ski mask stepped into his view, pointing a gun at the trembling man. Spencer stared wide eyed at the scene in front of him. The masked intruder shoved Jeff to the side, signaling him to go back to his apartment. Jeff ran off quickly.
"Who are y-" with a swift backhand to the face, Spencer was silenced, yet again. The force interrupted his balance and he swayed a bit before falling onto his back. The man stood above him, weapon pointed at his head.
"If you try anything, I shoot. Got it?" he spoke in a deep grisly voice. Spencer ignored his threat and quickly reached for the gun at his side. The man reacted quicker than him and knocked the kid over with a blow to the jaw. As Spencer recollected himself, the assailant ripped the gun away from him and tossed it to the other side of the room. He then proceeded to pick the boy up by the shirt, "You're lucky I need you alive, otherwise your precious brain would be splattered all over the ceiling," he growled.
Spencer spat at him, "You're just a coward." The man disapproved of this and threw him roughly to the ground. The back of Spencer's head hit the tiled floor with a resounding thud and immediately made his vision falter. The man pulled something from his pocket and bent down next to him. The last thing Spencer saw before he drifted into unconsciousness was the needle of a syringe entering the crook of his arm.
10:15 am, BAU office
Derek Morgan entered the bullpen. He was 15 minutes late, as per usual. When he reached his desk, he glanced over at the unoccupied chair of their one and only boy genius. Frowning, he walked over to the snack area. Seeing that Spencer was not there getting coffee with his cup of sugar, he tracked down another team member for answers. In this case, Emily Prentiss. She sat at her desk writing a case report.
"Hey, Prentiss," he greeted, "Have you seen pretty boy around?"
She looked up at him, "Spencer? No, I haven't seen him. I thought he was with you. Figured it would explain why he's late."
He let out a puff of air, "No, I'll ask around." He nodded to her as a quick goodbye and set off in the direction of Aaron Hotchner's office. He rapped his knuckles on the door, not wanting to disturb him if he was on the phone.
"Come in," he heard his boss's monotone voice call through the wooden door.
Derek opened it and partially leaned in through the doorway, "Hey, Hotch, have you seen Reid today?"
Hotch frowned and looked through his window out into the bullpen, "You mean he's not here?"
Derek nodded. Hotch's frown seemed to get more intense as he turned to type in Spencer's number on his work phone. "He's never this late," Derek heard him mutter as he picked up the receiver.
After ringing several times, it went directly to voice mail. "Hello, you've reached the phone of Dr. Spencer Reid. I can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message I will get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you." Derek rolled his eyes at the unnecessarily long message. He would have to fix that later.
Hotch's mouth formed a thin line, "He doesn't miss calls from me, he knows to pick up the phone when I call him."
He stood up quickly, grabbing his jacket. "Derek, tell Rossi that me and you are going to Reid's house." Derek nodded for what seemed like the twentieth time and ran off to do just that.
10:34 am, Reid's apartment
Hotch and Derek climbed the stairs to Reid's apartment as fast as they could. Pausing in front of the door, they held their pistols out in front of them as they caught their breath. Derek first knocked on the door. Getting no response, Hotch turned the knob, alarmed when it was unlocked. He pushed the door open.
"There's blood," Derek observed as they entered the living/dining area. He bent down next to the red splotch on the floor. "Not too much, likely from a head wound."
Hotch nodded grimly, "Reid?" he called. As his eyes gazed around the room, a silver object stole his attention.
"Derek, his gun," he gestured towards it and turned to examine his surroundings.
The apartment was small, with the kitchen, dining room, and living room all in the same giant area. The only other closed off rooms were the bathroom and Spencer's bedroom. He approached the bedroom. The door was open. He entered and noticed the glasses and outdated cell phone lying on the side table. He sighed and put his gun back in his holster. Turning away from the bed and facing the wall, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialed Rossi's number.
"Rossi," the man on the other end answered.
"Dave," Hotch said with a muted anger and slight apprehension to his usually emotionless voice, "He's gone."
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Pretty Boy- A Criminal Minds Fanfic
Fanfiction"Who are y-" With a swift backhand to the face, Spencer was silenced, yet again. The force interrupted his balance and he swayed a bit before falling onto his back. The man stood above him, weapon pointed at his head.
