A/N: No, I didn't die :) And thank you everyone who have encouraged me to write more, prodding me with messages and reviews - your work is finally paying off, guys! Here's the chapter you've all been waiting for for so long! Hold on to your pants, cuz here we go! Beta read by the lovely and totally legen-wait for it....DARY LT :D

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Hotch stood as if frozen the moment he opened the door to room number five. He didn't dare trust his own eyes. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. His stomach twisted instantly and a sharp exhale escaped him as his grip on the door knob hardened. An almost incoherent sound formed in his throat and got stuck there, unable to reach the air outside.

The room was twice the size as the other rooms and engulfed in complete darkness, except for one single source of light on the other side of the room. It smelled suspiciously like a dentist's office. The odor brought back a memory flash of Morgan's severed mouth.

On the far end of the room was a large, cylindrical tank of water, lit from below with a strong, white light. It gave the liquid inside an eerie glow as it rippled along the surface. Not to mention the person trapped within the glass walls.

Two slender wrists were hooked over the edges of the huge container. Long, shivering fingers hung loosely along the outside of the glass. A head of wet, tousled hair peered out from behind the thin arms. The eyes told Hotch all he needed to know. The fear and the severe fatigue sparkled like slowly dying fire in the hazel eyes which were already marked by dark rings.

"Jesus Christ." It was all Hotch could whisper as he stood frozen inside the door, still clinging to the handle. The enormous vessel looked like it was miles away, but he could see every detail. The water was high enough to reach the young man inside to the mouth as he stood with both feet on the bottom. One foot was chained to the metal floor of the cylinder. The young man was naked, apart from a pair of boxer shorts.

Hotch released the door from his grip and it instantly slammed shut behind him, locking tight in the process. The agent hardly noticed. His focus was on his young subordinate. He had seen so much today; so many horrific things. He wasn't even sure if his agents were all going to survive the ordeal, especially Dave. The images of his older colleague crucified before him still swirled in his mind, and the nightmare wasn't even close to over.

Only a few seconds had passed since Hotch had opened the door, but it felt like an eternity when the two agents looked at each other from across the blackened distance. Finally, the younger agent spurted as water slipped into his mouth with a breath and he began coughing. "Hotch…"

"I'm coming, Reid!" Hotch kept his eyes glued on the man caught in the cylindrical deathtrap as he called out in reassurance. With sharp steps he began making his way across the darkness. He only made it a few strides before sharp pain shot up through his foot, and he stumbled to the side only to be greeted with an even worse pain in the other foot. Losing his balance, Hotch reached his hands out into the darkness, trying to find somewhere to grab hold, but found nothing more than vast emptiness. Not until he fell forward on the floor, his hands meeting the ground first did he realize what had caused the pain in his feet. At the impact, the same pain shot through his chest, arms and legs.

Hotch screamed. Not once during the entire time he had been confined in this hell hole had he screamed, but there was no keeping it in anymore. He screamed for everything that had happened that night, for all the horror that he had had no control over, and for the fates of his friends. He belted out his frustration and anger, and he howled for tears he'd never be allowed to release until this was all over. If it ever would be.

And he screamed for the broken glass boring its way into his already massacred skin. With every tiny move he made, the sharp shards dug themselves deeper and deeper into his body, ripping him to pieces. His scream lowered into a coarse groan as he tried to move without piercing himself further on the sharp shards.

"Hasty, Agent Hotchner", the distorted voice sounded through the room, this time oozing of superiority and amusement. "You should have waited, and I would have told you."

Hotch lay sprawled on the glass covered in darkness, gritting his teeth. "You sick motherf…" Ending the sentence with a groan, he screwed his eyes shut and drew a breath. Even breathing hurt as his chest moved in the pile of razor sharp glass.

"Now now. Language, please. That is no way for an educated man to express himself."

Hotch forced himself to breath calmly, minimizing the slaughter of his chest. "Tell me", he growled.

"Tell you what?"

"Just tell me! Tell me what I'm supposed to do and then shut up!" Hotch was on his last ounce of patience, and it was running out – fast.

The voice chuckled. "Manners, Agent Hotchner. All in due time. Now look up at your friend."

Hotch raised his eyes and met with Reid's, which were still close to falling shut from the apparent fatigue. He tried to wordlessly tell his subordinate to hold on, to trust him. Reid's eyes looked frighteningly much like they didn't register much at all, almost glazing over. The water rippled as he moved sluggishly in the clear water, trying to make it easier to breathe over the rim.

"I would say you have about…a minute, minute and a half go get to him."

Hotch's heart began pounding again – as if it ever stopped. He didn't even want to think about how this would end.

"If I were you, I'd hurry." Rustle. Click.

A second later, there was a splashing sound above the superior, and he jerked his head up to see. The pitch black darkness made it impossible to identify what was happening, but he could follow the rushing sound forward into the room.

Hotch had failed to notice the large pipe hanging over the cylinder, and the sound of rushing water now echoed through it out roared through the open end.

Moments later, vast amounts of water began pouring over the young, chained agent who began thrashing under the flood. "Hotch!" Only one word made it over his lips before his head was submerged in the cylinder. Reid had no way of breathing and jerked at his chain to tear loose. He failed and began banging the glass from inside, desperately holding his breath.

"Reid!" Hotch raised himself on his under arms and knees, brushing his arms over the floor in front of him to get the glass out of the way. Pushing the pain aside, he felt the adrenaline rush through his veins and blood pounded in his ears, drowning out the thundering sound of the water crashing down on his subordinate. "Reid!"

Hotch saw the young man struggling in the water, the chain constricting his every move. He could feel the desperation rolling over him like a tidal wave as he got absolutely nowhere. Brushing the glass out of the way didn't help; he couldn't get ahead at all. He didn't even feel the pain in his arms anymore, just a throbbing that went all the way up to his shoulders. He cried out in pure anger, shoving the shards aside with a sharp flail with his arm.

As he looked back up from the floor and tried to meet with Reid's eyes, he couldn't. The young man's body was limp under the rushing water, his arms over his head as he floated just under the raging surface.

"No!" Hotch pushed himself forward, realizing he had not even covered half of the room with his struggle. He had to do something. With strength only mustered in an extreme situation, the agent forced himself to his feet, ignoring the pain shooting violently through the soles of his feet and all the way up to his thighs. "Hold on, Reid!" With one last push of adrenaline induced power, Hotch ran across the shards, barely keeping his balance as he careened through the room. The crunching under his bare feet with every step was sickening and he could feel himself slipping in his own blood. Pain was still a thing of the past, to be dealt with in the future. Finally, he had covered the sea of glass and threw himself on the glass cylinder, banging its surface. "Reid! Reid!"

There was no response.

Hotch stumbled to the side of the container and found a short ladder leading up to the surface. Water was still crashing down into the already overflowing cylinder, and was now spattering over the floor and Hotch. A small item attached to the outside of the glass caught the superior's eye as he heaved himself up on the edge of the container. It was a small key. Hotch could only hope that it was the one that opened the shackle around his subordinate's ankle.

It had been attached to the outside of the glass, eye height. Reid would have been able to see it the whole time. He would have been able to see his rescue the whole time he had been caught in his possible watery grave.

It must have been sheer torture.

Hotch grabbed the key and with a deep exhale, he crawled head first into the container. Without air in his lungs, he sank like a stone to the bottom and could immediately begin fiddling with the lock. Reid's lifeless body was halfway to the bottom of the cylinder, moving involuntarily as Hotch kicked his way down and the water crashed down on top of the young agent. Reid's mouth was partially open and small air bubbles had collected around his nostrils.

Hotch furiously worked the lock with his aching hands as the water around him turned a bright red from his own blood. He could hardly see his own fingers through the murky water. Finally, he felt the lock pop in his hands and he yanked it off the thin ankle and swam to the top, grabbing Reid's slender torso as he went.

Drawing a sharp breath as they reached the surface, Hotch began shaking the younger agent violently. "Reid! Reid, wake up!" The lifeless man didn't move as much as a finger. Neither did he breathe.

With one hand still holding onto one of Reid's arms, Hotch heaved himself up and over the edge of the cylinder. When his feet connected with the steps of the ladder he winced and almost fell, but bit his lip and steadied himself. His own pain was a thing to be dealt with later. Reid's life was the important thing right now. With one last burst of energy, he pulled the young man's lifeless body out of the tank and with an unceremonious crash they fell to the floor tangled in each others' limbs. Reid still wasn't moving.

Hotch crawled up from under his subordinate's limp body, turning Reid's face up. "Reid!" He smacked the pale cheeks in an attempt to wake the young man up, but to no avail. A quick ear to the chest confirmed his worst fears. He couldn't hear a heartbeat, and Reid wasn't breathing.

Lifting the young agent's neck up and tilting his head back, Hotch pinched Reid's nose, and quickly began trying to breathe new life into his friend. Pressing his blood soaked, hurting hands down onto the thin chest, he began doing compressions. "Come on…come on!" Once again, he locked his mouth onto Reid's, blowing more air into his lungs.

All the while, Richard Slessman's words echoed through his head. "They never give you the real facts about CPR. That outside of a hospital it's only effective 7 percent of the time."

"God, please…" he mumbled as he breathed into Reid's mouth another time and continued compressions. "Please…"

93 percent certainty of dying.

He mercilessly pressed down on the thin chest, almost afraid to break the younger man's ribs. But he couldn't stop. He couldn't lose Reid. The world couldn't lose Reid. The pale, wet skin was stained with blood from Hotch's cuts and wounds running down his arms.

Hotch took Reid's neck with one hand and pinched his nose with the other and breathed into the open mouth, forcing the chest to heave. Suddenly, he had a mouth full of water. Lifting his head to spit, he saw his subordinate turn his face to the side and finally heard him spew water all over. The desperate coughing was like music to the older man's ears. He lifted Reid by the shoulders and let his shivering body rest against his while the young man heaved and retched, getting rid of the water plaguing his lungs. Hotch held him, patting his chest. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

Finally, Reid settled down and began breathing normally again. His thin fingers had a firm grip on his superior's wrists. They stayed that way for a minute, just thanking the higher powers that they had survived. "Thank you…" Reid whispered. "Thank you."

Reid slowly and reluctantly let go of Hotch's wrists only to find himself smeared with blood. "You're bleeding", he croaked and coughed.

As if stepping out of a haze, all the pain came back to the older man and he winced. He had managed to forget about it for long enough to save his friend, but now it all returned. He would have to deal with it now. With a groan, he released the young man from his arms and leaned back on the wet floor. The water had stopped crashing down the moment the two men had made it out of the tank. Resting his head on the damp cement floor, Hotch closed his eyes and breathed. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was as far as he could go. The pain shot through him with every move he made and his feet felt like they were on fire and about to fall off.

Reid crawled down towards his superior's massacred feet, almost scared to look. His entire body trembled, and nausea rolled over him as he saw the damage done to his boss' body. There were cuts and wounds everywhere; his legs, chest and arms and even his face. But the feet seemed to be in the worst condition.

"Pull them out", Hotch groaned as he lifted his arm to wipe water out of his eyes. "Please, just pull them out."

The dull light emerging from inside the tank was the only illuminating source of the room. It was barely enough for Reid to spot the bigger pieces of glass, shards, deeply embedded in his superior's naked feet. One by one, he eased them out, careful not to cause Hotch any more pain than absolutely necessary. A few of the items stuck in the skin weren't glass, as Reid came to realize as he pulled them out. They were sharp iron caltrops, normally used to puncture tires of fleeing cars. It pained him to know that Hotch had endured this horrific agony just to save him.

"I don't know what to say", he mumbled as he pulled out a caltrop. "Thank you. You saved my life."

Hotch couldn't answer. He was too busy trying not to scream. Maybe this really was his limit.

"Well done, Agent Hotchner!" The disgustingly cheerful voice once again boomed through the speakers hidden somewhere in the darkness. "I had my doubts there for a moment or two – shame on me! I should have known that you always pull through. You're almost done now, only one door left."

Hotch turned his head away from the darkness and closed his eyes. His entire body screamed for him to stop; to give up already. To just lay there and die.

Reid looked up into the darkness. "Who are you? Why are you doing this to us?"

"Wow, those are two questions I am thoroughly sick of hearing today. Next time I'm putting gags on the lot of you."

The young agent looked at his superior. He had never seen him look so tired and damaged. Not even when he had fought Foyet.

"Maybe you'll be able to help your boss there, huh? What do you say, Spencer? You up for it?"

"No…" Hotch mumbled. "Go… Get out…"

"Actually, Agent Hotchner – the last room is a two person challenge. So you do need Spencer to finish. There is no door opening to the outside this time. You're going to have to work together."

A sharp clank came from their left, and a door slid open. It had been hidden in the cement wall. This door wasn't on the far wall, where the others had been. This seemed to lead into the next room.

"Whenever you're ready, boys." Crackle. Click.

Reid sat silent for a few moments. "What do we do? This guy is batshit insane, who knows what's in there." He picked a few shards from his boss' chest.

"I'm trying to figure it out", Hotch said tiredly as he winced. "I don't think I can explain what's going on…"

"As far as I can see, someone has a serious problem with either you or me."

"Me", Hotch quickly replied. "It's been…I've…Everyone is here…"

"What do you mean?" Reid frowned as he pulled a caltrop from Hotch's belly button.

"Nnnngh… They're all here. Morgan, Emily…everyone."

"You mean…"

"Yes." Hotch opened his eyes and looked right into his subordinate's. "I'm afraid of who's in the last room."

Reid knew exactly what Hotch meant. There were only so many people who had earned a place in his boss' heart. And odds were horrible that this madman had saved the worst for last.

"Help me up." Hotch reached out a bloodied hand and Reid took it. With a long groan, the older man pulled himself up with the help of his friend. Supported by the already wobbling Reid, he began making his way towards the door.

His heart pounded harder and harder with every precarious step. His brain told him what was waiting inside the next room, but his heart refused to believe it. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. It can't be. It can't. Can't. Can't.

Please, don't let it be…

But it was.

With a howl of anguish, Hotch fell to his knees the moment they entered the room.

"No…"