Gideon and Elle searched every inch of the basement. There was no one there and no evidence that anyone had been kept captive there.

"Dammit!" Gideon muttered under his breath. He had dared hope that he would find Reid. The kid was on his team, and his responsibility. He felt like a failure and he was haunted at night thinking about what Reid must have been going through.

"It'll be okay," Elle said patting him on the back. "We'll find him."


Two Days Later

"We've interviewed all thirty-three Harry's on our list," Hotch said. "None of them is our unsub."

"How could this have happened?" Garcia asked. "Profiling works all the time. Why this one time did we mess up?"

"Profiling is an art not a science ," Gideon said. "Sometimes, the pieces don't fit together. Sometimes they don't fit a standard profile."

Morgan was too tired to be angry. More than anything he hurt knowing what was happening to Spencer. And how it was all his fault.

"So what did we get wrong?" Hotch said.

"Let's go back to the basics," Gideon said. "We have a white male. Around the age of thirty. He has access to a house in the country. He's probably unemployed."

"How do you know that?" JJ asked.

"This kind of unsub won't be able to hold a job," Hotch explained. "He'll be unable to handle regular social situations."

"So we're ignoring the fact that he probably has technical experience and is named Harry?" Morgan asked.

"It could be a fake name," Elle said. "And we don't know for sure about the technical experience."

"Let's get the profile out to the police," Gideon said. "And then all we can do is hope someone recognizes the guy."


Reid no longer thought about suicide. There was not enough hope, even for that. He was handcuffed to a pipe on the wall with a pot next to him as his washroom. He couldn't move from his mattress, his arm perpetually hung above his head. When Harry was mad, he kicked Reid's broken legs. The pills masked the pain a little, but mostly Reid wanted to focus on the physical pain rather than having to think about his situation.

If Reid was right about the time, it was a month since he had called Morgan. But it was so hard to tell, without a clock and when he fell asleep at all times of day. Harry left all the time now. Reid knew he should feel some relief at being left alone, but he felt nothing at all.

He laid on his bed trying to sleep, but it wasn't working. Then he heard the front door. Harry was home. He felt a little fear rise up in him, but then he pushed it away. It was much better to feel nothing.

"Hello, Spencer," Harry said as he walked into the basement. "I bought you a present."

Reid hoped it was food. He didn't remember the last time he had eaten. Harry seemed to forget that he needed to eat at all. When he remembered he brought bread and if Reid was really lucky cold McDonald's.

Harry handed Reid a box. It was a glass chessboard. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Reid nodded his head. It was hard to talk anymore. Even if his throat wasn't parched, he wasn't used to talking. It felt strange. He had words in his head, but somehow it felt so hard to force them to his mouth.

"Let's play," Harry said. He set up the chessboard and moved first. Reid didn't bother applying any strategy and moved randomly. Harry was much more thoughtful, taking time to think before every move.

About ten moves in Reid started to feel a sick feeling in his stomach. Something felt wrong about this. But it was just chess. There was nothing wrong with that except…

Harry moved again. Reid had seen this strategy before. He was sure of it.

And then he remembered.


A/N: Special thanks to Vanessa, if you ever read this for helping me with this chapter. I hope this was worth the wait! I know it's not my best chapter... but anyways. I'll try to have another chapter up for tomorrow but I haven't written anything in forever so I'm not 100% sure. Thank you to everyone who's reading this. Good on you for making it this far.