Clueless

Kidnapped

"Where is she? Did you find her?" Reid demanded of Hotchner. The paramedics pulled him back down to try and stitch up the minor cut in his head. He needed to see her.
"We searched the whole building. We'll find her, Reid." Hotch told him. Morgan sat beside Reid.
"Look, man. Don't worry. We always find them, don't we?" Morgan asked.
"No. Not in time." Reid reminded him.
"Yeah, well, we have extra pressure this time. Spencer Reid is going to be breathing down all of our necks until we manage to find her." He tried to smile but found he couldn't.
"I haven't met anyone like her, Morgan. We have to find her." He told him, praying his voice wouldn't crack as he spoke.
"She's just as smart as you."
"And when I got kidnapped I-" Reid cut himself off, feeling the need to cry rising in his throat. He pushed the dark memories down.
"No one holds you accountable for anything you did, Reid." Morgan said gently.
"I do." Morgan, giving up, offered one last pat on the back before following Hotch to the SUV.
Reid waved the paramedics off and followed.
•
Rowan didn't speak, knowing it was too dangerous to let her captor know she was awake. Rowan's throat was dry when she woke up. Her shoulder ached mercilessly, telltale of the bullet that had recently pierced her skin.
"Spencer?" She almost called out, wishing the doctor was with her. She looked down and realized her bullet had been removed and a piece of once white bandage was stained red with her blood wrapped around her shoulder.

She looked around her.
Rope tied down one hand and the opposite ankle to a bed post and she remembered someone else who had tied their victims like this.
"He's dead." She mentally told her frantically beating heart. The mattress underneath her was solid springs and painful but the rope was too tightly pulled for her to try and move. It smelled like sewer. She noticed there was a cell phone to her right and reached for it with her free arm, only to realize she had no control of her arms. She couldn't even turn her head.

For a moment, she panicked. Of course her thoughts were slowing down: it wasn't because of the pain but because of the paralysis used on her.
"Don't cry, Miss Rowan." Instead of a scream, all Rowan could muster was a weak sound of fear. The face looming down at her was all to familiar. She couldn't form the words she was thinking.
"I know, I know. But you died. Don't believe everything you see, sweetheart. But I killed you. I pulled the trigger and killed you. Aim better next time. But then the house burned. And I'm still here. The world's greatest mystery." The man told her, slowly leaning towards her.
Rowan desperately wished she could do one of two things: 1. Lash out and tear this man to pieces. 2. To run away and hide.
"Tell me, Roanoke, did you miss me?"