Thank you very much to anyone who reviewed! Again, sorry it took me even longer to update this time…junior year is still sucking the life out of me. Anyways, it basically gives the "message" from Reid's point of view. Italicized things are flashbacks. Thanks for reading!

"I have come to deliver a message." Reid stared straight at the camera, unflinching, silently begging his team to understand. He could feel Sam's eyes boring into his forehead.

"Where am I?" Reid had just woken up. His head hurt terribly, and he was wondering if he was dead or not. His voice sounded scratchy; it hurt to speak.

Sam's face appeared above his. "You passed out," he said, "I brought you up here."

Reid sat up. The room was small, with pale walls and no windows. He looked to his right; there was an IV machine stationed beside his bed.

"You could've killed me," Reid said angrily.

"I have spent my life working to serve others. To fulfill the needs of the victims and their loved ones. I believed that it was my dutyto use my intelligence to serve society. This is what I was told. This is what I had been led to believe." Reid paused and glanced at Sam. Sam nodded fervently, and motioned for him to keep going.

Reid was trying to piece everything together in his head. "Where did you get all this medical equipment?" he asked eventually.

Sam didn't answer.

"Please," Reid said, "Sam, you almost killed me. I think I deserve to know what's going on here."

"I have found that contradictions do not exist," Reid continued. "Wherever a contradiction lies, one must check their premises; and they will find that one side of the issue is wrong."

Sam took a step forward. "The government thinks there's only one of me," he said softly, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

Reid stared. Did Sam have a partner? Reid tried desperately to reconcile this inside his head. That hadn't been in the profile.

"I was living in a contradiction. In hunting down killers, I became a killer myself. In an attempt to protect the innocence of others, I have lost my own. I used logic and reason to defend a government whose actions were not logical or reasonable."

"Do you have a partner?" Reid asked. Sam turned away from him. He was silent.

"I have…leaders," Sam said slowly.

"I have found that all of the problems of the word can be defined by a single truth; that A is A. A thing either is, or it isn't. Shades of gray do not exist; they are a government's attempt to make the whole world color-blind. And there is one contradiction that I will no longer stand for."

"What do you mean, 'leaders?'" Reid asked. "How many of you are there?"

Sam turned around. He didn't meet Reid's eyes. "I can't say," he said eventually. He turned and walked away quickly as Reid stared after him, bewildered.

"I will not allow the government to use my own intelligence against me. I will not allow myself to be exploited by a society working to eliminate my fellowmen; the men of the mind. I will not manufacture the weapons for my own destruction. I do not give my sanction. I will not be a victim."

It was a week after Reid had been abducted. He and Sam were sitting in the same room as before, starting up the old computer that Reid had finally fixed.

Sam sighed. He got to his feet and walked into the other room. Reid peered after him curiously; that was the first time he had left Reid alone without locking the door.

Several minutes later, Sam returned. "Listen," he said, "I'm not supposed to show you this. But you fixed the computer…and I just…I just feel like I can trust you."

"We are taking back our country," Reid said. "We are going on strike. A self destructive society is a virus that kills itself. I refuse to be the antidote, if it means that virus will kill me as well."

Sam pulled out a map and spread it out on the floor in front of Reid.

Reid recognized it after less than a second. It was a map of Quantico headquarters; a detailed map of Quantico headquarters. "Sam," he said slowly, "Where did you get this?"

Sam swallowed nervously. "You can't let anyone know that I'm showing you this. They'll…they'll be furious with me. I'm in trouble enough as it is…"

"We are leaving now. You will not find us until it is too late. To my friends who are watching this; you owe society nothing; you owe the government nothing; the only moral obligation you have is to yourself."

"What are you saying?" Reid asked forcefully.

"Listen. We are everywhere, Spencer. You can't escape us. Your only safe bet is to stay with me. That's why I took you—I was trying to save you."

"What are you saying?" Reid asked sharply.

Sam pointed a finger at the map, then looked at Reid. "We've mapped out this building because we're planning to destroy it."

"There is not much time left," Reid said, his eyes piercing the camera desperately, pleading with his team to understand what he was saying. "Get out now. They have no concern for the pain of the innocent."

Sam made a scissoring motion with his hands, indicating that the tape was over. Reid got to his feet hurriedly and stepped out of the view of the camera. Sam darted forwards and switched it off.

"That was good," Sam said. He reached over to a box in the corner and snapped a pair of latex gloves onto his hands. Carefully, he reached into the recorder, picked up the DVD, and put it in a plastic case.

"I think it'll get our message out," Reid said carefully.

"It'd better," Sam muttered. He turned to leave.

"Um, Sam?" Reid said, stepping forward. Sam turned around to look at him.

"What?"

"You don't…" Reid trailed off, thinking of how best to phrase what he was about to say. "I mean, I don't think you really need to leave the DVD with a body. You know?"

Sam folded his arms. "Why not?"

"Well," Reid said, "I've worked with the FBI for years. I know how they operate. Every time you kill, the BAU gets more information about you. They learn things. Send the DVD to them—send a messenger—but you don't need to kill anyone else."

Sam blinked at him. "But they're looters," he said. "They're second-handers. They deserve to die."

"Yes," Reid said, "I understand that. I'm just trying to help you out. I don't want you to get caught."

Sam paused for a moment, as if he were contemplating it. Then he shook his head. "I'm under direct orders to leave the DVD with a body," he said. "That's my job." He turned to leave again.

"Wait!" Reid called after him. "So. These…'leaders.' When am I going to meet them?"

Sam frowned in disapproval. "Spencer, I've already explained this to you. You can't meet them. They don't trust you as part of the movement. You're noteven supposed to know they exist."

"Right," Reid said hurriedly, "That's fine, I get it. Could you tell me their names, at least?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "It's confidential," he said. "Why do you want to know? Whose side are you on, anyways, Spencer?"

"I'm on your side," Reid said quickly. "But the thing is—and you must understand this—I'm worried about my friends at Quantico. They're good people. If you're planning to attack them…I want to at least get my team out."

Sam crossed his arms angrily. "I see how it is, then," he said sulkily, like a child learning he was not Reid's best friend, after all.

"All I'm saying," Reid said, "Is that you—and your leaders—should think about what you're doing, before you do it. My team members are good people; just misguided, like I was! Don't you want to save them too, Sam?"

Sam stood there for several moments, looking very confused. Finally, he nodded. "Alright," he said. "I'll mention it to the leaders."

"Thanks, Sam," Reid said, giving Sam a very validating sort of smile. "It means a lot."

Sam grudgingly returned his smile, then went to the door. "I'm s'posed to lock it," he said. "Policy, you know."

"Obviously," Reid said, returning his smile.

Sam closed the door.

Reid immediately returned to the computer. He had been trying to figure out how to work the internet all week; but was having no success. All he had been able to do was install Microsoft word and Solitaire, neither of which were a tremendous amount of help to him.

Reid knew that Sam wouldn't change anyone's mind about attacking a government base; but maybe he would delay them just long enough for Reid to get a message to his team.

Then again, there was also the possibility that Sam was a very, very delusional unsub that had just happened to gain access to an intricate map of the FBI's private headquarters.

Reid's deductive reasoning set to work, dismissing the notion as impossible. First of all, Sam was not organized or intelligent enough to have pulled off the entire operation by himself. Fifteen or sixteen bodies, with no evidence? Unlikely. Second of all, Sam didn't profile as extremely delusional. Gullible? Easily manipulated? Impressionable? Yes. Irresponsible? Yes. Recklessly violent? Slightly sadistic? Probably. But Sam was clearly not the brains of the operation; in fact, from the few conversations that he'd had with Sam, Reid wasn't even sure if Sam entirely understood the philosophy that he so fervently believed in.

Then the paranoia set in; as it always did when Sam left him alone. What if Sam got killed or arrested? What if no one ever came back for him? What if the video was all they had needed—and now they were going to kill him?

Reid pressed his hands to his face, trying to take deep breaths. He just wanted the team to find him. Sam had already come close to killing him once; although he was unsure whether that had been intentional or not. Either way, Reid hadn't left the room in over two weeks; and meanwhile, Sam was going around D.C. with his gun and murdering innocent people.

Reid let out a long sigh and leaned back, pressing his cheek against the wall. He was beginning to worry that his team would never find him; or worse, that they would be killed before they had the chance.

And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

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