For a Genius, You're Pretty Dumb

When I came to, I didn't know where I was. The ground was cold, the room was dark. My hands were tied behind my back with something. My body was so sore that I could barely move. When I suddenly realized what had happened, and what was happening now, I became afraid. I'm being held captive. I'm being held prisoner by the only man in the world I have ever feared. My heart began to race, and my mind was a haze as I went through everything I was taught at the FBI Academy.

-Avoid drawing attention to yourself by making eye contact or complaining to your captors.

-Establish rapport with those who have taken you hostage by talking about common topics, such as family and friends. Actively listen to your captors, identify with them, and stay away from controversial subjects. Do NOT debate or argue.

-Maintain and exhibit self-respect and a positive attitude.

-Stay healthy while you are being held hostage.

-Keep your mind active.

-Observe everything around you: the place, your captors, fellow hostages, sounds, daily routines.

-Keep track of time. Pay note to daily routines or temperature changes.

I went over and over again in my mind everything they told us to do if we were ever held hostage. My eyes scanned the dark room looking for anything that would help. A small rectangular shape on the wall near the top ..... A window! A basement window. It's dark outside, probably after midnight. With closer inspection, I could see that the window was barred. I sighed.

"Keep a positive attitude, Allie," I told myself. "Observe everything around you."

Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could tell that the basement I was in was nearly empty. There was the mattress I was sitting on in the corner and something on the far end of the basement with a large cloth draped over it, probably a couch.

"Okay, now that I know I'm in a basement, I just need to try and figure out WHERE the basement is," I said while I got up from the mattress and slowly walked to the only window in the basement. I couldn't see a thing out the window. With a sigh, I made my way back to the mattress in the corner and sat there against the wall. I sat there for hours, thinking. Thinking about how I got myself in this situation. Thinking about how I would get myself out of this situation. Then wondering if I could.

It must have been around six o'clock or so, because the sun was starting to rise. I stood up quickly from my place on the mattress and walked quickly over to the window. I could see grass and trees. A pecan tree. Okay, this helps a lot. Carya illinoinensis, or a pecan tree, is native to south-central North America.

Okay, where at in south-central North America am I?

All I could feel was pure adrenaline running through my veins.

And fear.

_______________________________________________________________________
Days, weeks, months.

I'm not sure how long it's been, anymore.

I think it's safe to say I've lost all hope.

They've stopped searching.

I'll die here.
_______________________________________________________________________
"Allie," He called from the top of the stairs.

I winced and backed myself into the corner as far as I could.

"Allieeee," He called again while he descended the stairs.

"Please lease, please leave, please, please, please leave me alone, please.........." I whispered over and over again.

"Allie, honey, whats the matter?" He said in what was supposed to be a sympathetic voice.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked him, to which he only smiled.

"Why? Allie, I love you. I want to be with you. Forever."

I was literally sick to my stomach. The only thing stopping me from puking my guts out and passing out was the realization that I need to keep my composure. I need to focus on staying alive.

"They're still looking for me. They'll find me. They will...." I didn't even know who I was trying to convince - myself, or him.

"Allie," He said quietly as he extended a hand to stroke my hair, "They're not coming for you. If they were, they would have found you WEEKS ago!"

"Weeks .... "

"Yes, weeks. As you can see, they aren't coming. Get used to us being together," He replied. He ran his fingers across my leg to the hem of my shorts, and I broke. Not a thing could stop the tears and the cries as he continued to take all that was left of me.

_______________________________________________________________________
"Hotch, it's almost been a month! If we don't find her soon it might be-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Reid. We'll find her. We just have to work on the profile a little more. Help Morgan figure out where this guys been. Check old addresses, ex girlfriends, family members. He probably has her in a place he feels comfortable, a place he's been before."

Relations between Hotch's team had gotten strained during Allie's absence. The fear of their beloved team member's fate had everybody on edge, but a certain man was a little more on edge than the others.

Spencer Reid hardly slept in the month that Allie had been missing. His work time and free time had been occupied with her case. He became obsessive. He sat at his desk, which was scattered with case files, photographs, and addresses.

He scanned all the addresses of Alan Garrett's previous residences. They all led no where. With a sigh, Spencer looked at the clock on the wall. 2:47 AM. He had to be at the office at 9 O'clock sharp so he decided it was time to sleep.

He dragged his tired self up the stairs of his home to the comforting warmth of his bed. Unlike other nights, sleep came easily to him tonight. His subconscious mind took him to a dream land. He was in front of a beautiful Victorian house that looked like it was on a plantation. Around him were police cars, forensic vans, news reporters, and ambulances. The scene was chaotic. Spencer walked over to one of the police officers.

"Excuse me, sir."

The officer imply stood there, facing the other direction. Spencer assumed the officer must not have heard him. He tapped the officers shoulder and tried again. "Sir?"

It didn't take much longer for Spencer to realize that he could not be seen. He decided to slip through the houses heavy, thick wooden door to inspect the scene. As soon as he was inside, the coppery smell of blood hit him. He could tell all the commotion was coming from upstairs, so that's where he went. Once he was up the stairs, he made his way into the first room. It was a bedroom.

The white walls, the white bed sheets, and the white carpet were all stained red. Spencer inspected the room further. He could tell that on the bed was where the grisly murder happened, because that was where most of the blood was. He knew that whoever did this was a sick, disturbed person. But then again, isn't every murderer disturbed? Spencer decided there was nothing more he could learn from the crime scene. He walked out of the crimson stained room and into the next room across the hall. A child's room. The walls were a light lilac color, as were the curtains and the bed sheets. This room was untouched. Pure and innocent. Spencer walked over to the small twin sized bed and sat at the foot. Why was he here? What was so important about this house that his subconscious would bring him here? What was the connection to this house that he was missing? Spencer didn't know what it was, but something was pulling him to this room. He felt like the answer was here. He started to investigate the room. On the little white desk were papers and books, nothing that seemed too important. He moved to the bedside table. There was an alarm clock and a jewelry box. He opened it up, and there was a ballerina continuously pirouetting to the melody that the box played. The box, however, was empty. He searched through every dresser drawer, but to no avail. With a sigh, he sat back down on the bed. Then it hit him. There was one more place he hadn't looked. He removed both pillows from the bed, and there it was. A silver bracelet, set with amethyst stones. The same bracelet he gave Allie for her birthday. This was her old house. This was where her life dramatically changed. This was where her nightmares took her every night.

"Spencer, please find me," He heard the wind whisper. But he knew it was her, waiting for him to save her.

_______________________________________________________________________

Spencer didn't hesitate. As soon as he woke from his vision-like dream he got in his car and drove straight to Hotch's home. He flung his car door open even before he brought the car to a complete stop. But he didn't care, Allie was more important. She always was, and always would be. He ran the short distance to Hotch's front door and knocked on the door as loud and as hard as he could. Hotch answered the door about three minutes after Spencer had started knocking.

"What is it, Reid?" He asked urgently. He knew whatever it was, it was important. What else could bring the young man to his house at 5:26 in the morning?

"I know where she is, Hotch!"

"What? Allie?" Hotch asked quickly.

"Yes! I know where she is Hotch! I know!"

The older man felt his heart skip a beat. This is what they're been waiting for for almost a month.

"Get in the car. Call JJ, tell her to get a hold of everyone. I'll be there as soon as I'm ready."

Spencer nodded and went straight to his car, pulled out his phone and called JJ while he drove to Quantico.

_______________________________________________________________________

I laid there idly on the dirty mattress in the corner of the basement. I disregarded everything I learned at the FBI academy about what to do in a hostage situation. What's the use, anyway? I'm just gonna die here. Alone. HE hadn't been down here since last night. Luckily, he hasn't touched me in a few days. But it's only a matter of time. My body feels broken, like I couldn't get up even if I tried. But I didn't. No point. I can't even cry anymore. My tear ducts must be dry. Or maybe I'm too far gone to feel.

I guess it's safe to say

I've

lost

all

hope