lullabies through the window

Thirteen: The Devil Herself

"They're all empty. Every single damned abandoned warehouse is empty, with no signs of being visited since they closed."

SWAT had just finished going through every possible warehouse.

And Spencer was still missing.

"Well, we have to think harder, then. Go back to the beginning. What's another significant place? Maybe where they were taken from? Where they were dumped after?"

It was 8:49. 

Negotiations were going to happen. 

If they didn't, Spencer would die.

Spencer was not going to die.

He couldn't.

8:50.

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Spencer stared at the ceiling. 

He had been tortured, then strapped back to the operating table.

He had no idea how long ago that had been. Usually he knew these kind of things, but his numb mind was drawing a blank. 

They left. 

And they turned the lights off on their way out.

But would he have felt better knowing that he wasn't alone in the darkness?

He heard the door open, and he froze. He squeezed his eyes shut-- but nothing changed. It was just as dark as before, and he doubted they could tell whether his eyes were open or not. But he wasn't really doing it for them; he just wished he could wake up. 

Because maybe there still was a chance he was having a nightmare.

Suddenly a sharp pinch greeted his neck. He yelped.

"What- what did you just do?" He asked as loudly as he could. Which wasn't very loud, and his burning throat screamed in protest-- louder than he could talk.

Feet shuffled quickly out of the room. The door closed. 

Spencer lay in the dark. Shivering. Shaking. But not just from the cold. 

They had injected him with something. 

Spencer had a feeling it wasn't a pain killer.

"It's just a nightmare. It's just a nightmare."

"You'll wake up soon."

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The team was still waiting for the call. 

They didn't know what else to look for, but they looked anyway.

It was 8:52.

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Margot threw the used needle in the trash. 

Amber looked up from the stove where she was cooking. Sarah looked up from her crossword puzzle. 

"What... where did you run off to with a needle and drugs..." Amber asked suspiciously, stirring-- whatever it was she was trying to make.

"Hey, she looks pretty sober to me, Amber. She wouldn't do drugs, anyway." She set down her crossword puzzle and pencil. "So... how's the doctor reacting to them?"

Margot smiled slyly. 

"I thought I'd let him experience it alone."

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