Title: Paralyzed
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Spencer Reid
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/Criminal Minds
Rating: PG-13
Table: 5_prompts, Month of November challenge
Prompt: Day 20 - It hurts so much I can't think straight
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Spencer Reid, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Spencer sat at the desk in the office that the Las Vegas police department had given the BAU, his head in his hands. He didn't know what else he could do; he'd been over everything a dozen times with the Vegas police, and with his team members.

He was sure that Foyet was targeting Greg. That was the only reason that he would have left the message about English Gardens; it was more than obvious to Spencer that the psychotic killer was trying to punish the BAU for his imprisonment, one member at a time.

Greg had probably been the easiest person for him to get to, given his second job. He was sure that it hadn't been hard for Foyet to find out what his boyfriend did for a living; it would be a double coup for Foyet, to thumb his nose at the crime lab and the BAU both.

As long as Greg wasn't hurt, then nothing else mattered, Spencer told himself fiercely. As long as they got Greg out of there unscathed, he'd consider them lucky, even if Foyet got away. He had to concentrate on making sure that Greg was okay.

But for the moment, he had no idea how to do that. He had managed not to give away the secret of Greg's second job to the people he had to work with, and neither had the rest of the BAU. That was all he could for Greg at the moment, other than look for him.

He had never felt more alone or more helpless in his life. Here he was, with his genius IQ, and all of the people who worked with the BAU, as well as the Las Vegas police force, at his disposal, and yet he felt that he couldn't do anything to help the man he loved.

How long he sat there with his head in his hands, Spencer didn't know. He was still sitting there when Hotch came into the room and sat down at the desk across from him, regarding him somberly. He was there for several long moments before he spoke.

"We'll find him, Spencer." The older man's voice was strong and steady; Spencer slowly raised his head, looking into Hotch's face, searching for any indication that those words were just words, and not a firm conviction that came from the other man's heart.

"I hope you're right," he whispered, his tone bleak. "It hurts, Hotch. Knowing that I let Foyet get to him hurts more than anything else in the world ever has. I feel like I betrayed Greg. It's even worse than when I had my mom committed to a mental hospital."

"You didn't betray him, Reid." Hotch's voice was calm and soft, but still firm. He reached across the table to take one of the young man's hands in his, squeezing it gently. "We'll get him back. Alive. I promise you we will. I know how much he means to you."

"It hurts so much I can't think straight," Spencer whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "I can't figure out where Foyet would have taken him, and I don't know if I'll ever see the man I'm in love with again. I feel like I've failed at everything I should have done for him."

"You couldn't have known that Foyet would come after him," Hotch said, leaning forward, the intensity of his tone growing stronger, as though he had to convince Spencer of the truth in his words. "None of us could have known that he would go after someone close to you."

"I should have known," Spencer whispered miserably. "I should have warned Greg. I should have insisted that he stop with the escort job. I'm helping him pay rent, since the apartment here is kind of my home too, now. I should have made him turn his back on all that."

"I'm sure that he planned to, but he might have already had obligations that he didn't want to turn away from concerning the job," Hotch told him, his voice soft, obviously trying to comfort Spencer. "You couldn't have known this would happen. No one could."

"What am I going to do, Hotch?" Spencer looked down at their clasped hands, as though any touch, any kind of comfort, was foreign to him. "What if Foyet kills him? Then it's my fault. I'll have lost the love of my life, and I didn't do anything to stop it."

"Yes, you did." This time, Hotch's voice was louder, insistent. "You're doing everything you can. We all are. And he's not going to kill Greg. We're going to get him back, and even if he's been harmed, he'll eventually recover. We'll save him, Reid."

"I hope we will," Spencer answered, managing a wan smile. Hotch returned the smile, squeezing his hand again, then getting up and heading for the door. "You'll be the first to know if we get any kind of word, Reid. I promise. I'll let you know the second I hear anything."

Spencer nodded, waiting for Hotch to leave the room before he let himself succumb to despair again. They'd already been everywhere that he knew to look; they'd checked Greg's apartment, but there had been no sign that anything had happened there.

Foyet's whereabouts were a dead end. No one had seen a man fitting his description in any of the hotels they thought he might be in, and no one had seen Greg. Spencer felt as though they'd shown his picture to everyone who worked in a hotel in Las Vegas.

All they could do now was wait for a new lead, but he hated just sitting here waiting. There had to be more that he could do, something that would lead them to Greg. There had to be a way for him to find his lover, to make sure that Greg was safe.

Waiting was driving him crazy -- and it was making his inner pain worse. It was almost as though the pain was becoming a physical ache -- he couldn't think, couldn't come up with anything else that they should do to try and find out where Greg was being held.

He couldn't think straight. He couldn't get his ideas in order, couldn't make his thoughts stay on any one coherent track. Everything seemed to be spinning around in his mind, confusing him, his emotions getting in the way of his intellect for the first time in his life.

The pain was almost blinding him; for a few moments, Spencer felt as if he was paralyzed. He couldn't move, couldn't have spoken if someone was screaming at him to say something. He was gripped with the most agonizing pain he could have possibly felt.

After a few moments, it passed, leaving him feeling weak and shaken. With a sigh, he got up from the desk, heading for the door of the office. He had to talk to Hotch. He had to find out if there was anything more that he could do -- and then get it done.

***