Even as he struggles against Alec's hold on him, Reid tries to persuade himself to calm down, forcing himself to recognize that his knuckles are bleeding, that he's in pain, that Marcus is on the floor laughing. It's a humorless kind of laugh, one that sends another burst of anger through Reid, but Alec doesn't let him go and so, he has no choice but to fall back, the tension draining from his body. His muscles will be sore later from tensing so hard, and he's pretty sure his knuckles are at least fractured, but Reid doesn't care.

Pushing himself to his feet with his good hand and cradling the other against his chest, Reid stares down at Marcus with wild eyes. "If you had anything to do with this, I'll come back here, and I swear, I'll kill you myself, you son of a bitch."

Marcus wriggles backwards until he meets the wall, inching upward into a sitting position as he wipes the back of one shaky hand over the blood spilling from his nose. There's a cut on his cheek, a bruise blooming beneath one eye, all these wounds that will likely heal by the time Alec and Reid leave this house, but it only makes his smile all the more unsettling.

"It wasn't us," Marcus insists, though Reid isn't sure it's even feasible to believe him at this point. "One of ours was taken, too. I don't have names. I don't have locations. Not this time. You're lucky you came with your kiddie, doc, you really are. Otherwise I would've snapped your neck by now. Come back here again, and I won't be so accommodating."

Swallowing hard, Reid slowly turns, tugging at Alec's sleeve as he does. "Come on," he says, all the fight and adrenaline draining out of him, "let's get out of here."