Two High IQ's Make One Great Romance

I awoke in a daze, realizing that I had passed out because of head trauma. I was still on the floor. He was no where to be seen. What was he doing? Going through my things? Getting his things ready to kill me? I didn't know. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears. I knew that wasn't a good thing. I looked down at my feet. My back arched and I reached the tape, noticing that there was no long a tear. He had found out my escape plan.

I dug my nails into it again, not getting the same results as before. There was more tape. It would never work now.

Instead of ripping the tape I decided to attempt to get the rag from my mouth with my feet. I arched my back even further, surely breaking my ribs even more so, but finally my feet had reached my mid torso. I tipped my head awkwardly to the side and managed to catch the very end of the rag with my toes and rip it out. I had never been so relieved. I took a deep breath and let myself breathe for a few seconds before I hatched another idea.

My window was only a few feet away. I began sliding over to it, inching slowly and stopping every few seconds to wait for a sound. Underneath the window, I somehow managed to get to my feet with the aid of the windowsill. I turned my back to it, and lifted the edge with my fingers.

Success! The window was opening. Slowly, but surely, it rose. Only a few seconds until I could slide out the small crack and hop down the fire escape.

All glimmers I hope that I had were immediately forgotten, as he walked in the door. He ran to me, punched my eye, forcing my head to hit the window and crack it and then fall to the ground. The only fortunate part about that is that I was able to scream, and with an open window perhaps someone would hear me.

"You little fuck!" He screamed, dragging me by the hair to middle of the floor. He re-stuffed my mouth, letting the towel reach even further down my throat until I was continually gagging. That was it, I let myself go. I couldn't help the tears as they flowed. My life was over and all for what? Because some crazed old man had a grudge.

"Open your eyes." He commanded. I refused. I stayed where I was, shaking with terror and rage.

"Open your fucking eyes!" He yelled again. I squinted, letting him show me whatever it was that he was holding. It was a picture. Of me. With Derek.

My eyes widen at the sight.
"I'm showing these to your little boyfriend when I go to kill him. Just to show him what kind of person you really are."

I screamed behind my rag. I wriggled hard in my position on the floor, cutting my skin on the edges of the ducked tape as I moved my limbs rapidly.

He couldn't kill Spencer. He couldn't get near him. But I was the only one who knew about him, Spencer would not know until I was already dead and he broke into Spencer's house. The thought made me even more angry and horrified. I prayed that any minute, someone would hear my muffled screams and the sounds of my body being brutally beaten.

Another blow was given to my chest, making all the air rush from my lungs and my head feel heavier than ever. Something was seriously wrong, I couldn't breathe. I could barely take a breath and my attempts were getting weaker. What had he done to me?
I moaned in my agony, but he just laughed at me.

"Now you now how I felt when I watched my brother die."
Fuck you! I was thinking, but of course I couldn't voice myself. Too many thoughts were flowing through my head. I was dying, Spencer would die, what about the team? What about my family? What about the rest of my life? Had I done everything that I've wanted to do with my life? Was this guy really so crazy as to kill me because I had some what cause his brother's death, even though his twin was a murderous mad-man? When would everything stop hurting so badly?

Darkness seemed to circle the outlines of my vision. Things began to get blurred, but sharpened briskly when he gave me another swift stomp on my ankle. At this point, all I could focus on was my breathing.

Darkness came again, and at last I knew it was ending. My breathe became shorter and my heart calmed. The pain would stop. The last thing I remember seeing was Spencer bursting through the door.

XXXXXX

Spencer jogged from his car and pulled his gun from his belt. He held it in front of him as he ran up the two flights of stairs, careful not to make any noise. There was a shadowy figure he did not recognize in Piper's window, and that had confirmed his worst fears.

He heard a moan from in her apartment, and he was desperate to get inside. He didn't bother radioing anyone else, he would do it after-wards.

The door finally gave way, revealing the devastating scene in front of him.
There she was, bound and gagged on the floor. She was bleeding from her head, and he suspected from her scalp. Her foot was contorted and her eyes half-closed. She was losing her fight.

There he was, standing over her with a scowl on his face. Spencer had seen him before, it was the man that did the same thing to him. But that was impossible. He was dead, so who was this? Was there a family member that the FBI had somehow over-looked?
It didn't matter. The deadly blow was delivered in the next second. The man fell to the floor in a heap and blood immediately started pouring from his wound. Spencer brought out his phone.

"This is Dr. Reid with the FBI's behavioral analysis unit, we need an ambulance at 1213 Elm Street, apartment 316. An FBI technical analyst has been brutally beaten!" He ran to Piper as he spoke rapidly, hearing a positive response from the dispatcher.

"Piper!" He yelled at her as he tugged the rag from her through. He could smell her blood pooling next to her head. "Piper, wake up!" Her pulse was shallow, barely there. She had been fighting to stay alive for a while.

Spencer immediately began CPR. He continued with his attempts until the paramedics finally arrived.

"I believe she has a collapsed or punctured lung. She's lost a massive amount of blood from a wound in her head. She's not responding." He hurried told to the medics who shoved him out of the way.

"Sir, please, stand back."

"Please, please help her."

The two men lifted her tied Piper onto a backboard and lifted her onto a gurney before rushing her from the room. Spencer went to follow them, but was stopped by a police officer before he was able to leave.

"What happened here?"

He held up his credentials. "Sir, that is my girlfriend, and we both work for the FBI, I'd suggest questioning that man." He pointed to the bloody body on the ground.

"Is he dead?"

"I hope so."

Spencer ran after the paramedics who were rushing Piper to the hospital.