"She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum."

Jonathan Safron Foer

Hotch walked into his room, unsure of what to expect. To his surprise, as he looked around, he realized that it was empty. There was one light hanging from the ceiling illuminating the dark grey walls that surrounded him. The room, as a whole, was dirty and moldy as if it had been years since a person had been inside. He looked around for any threats, but didn't see any. A short sense of relief flowed through him until he remembered who this man was, there had to be something more to this room than Hotch could see.

A few minutes passed and Hotch started to wonder where the unsub was. Maybe the challenge had already started. Was there something that he should already know he was supposed to do? Let intelligence slow this endless nightmare. Poetic, but to Hotch, it didn't mean anything. Maybe his challenge would involve thinking critically, maybe riddles or something.

He continued waiting.

It seemed like it had been a long time since he'd entered the room. Just out of curiosity he walked to the door and pushed. It didn't budge. It must have locked automatically when he walked inside. He paced in his room, back and forth, the only noise he could hear being the brushing of his pant legs against each other.

After what he was estimated was about 20 minutes, he finally heard the familiar clicking noise of the intercom on the ceiling turning on.

Agent Hotchner, hello there. Sorry it took so long. You were the last room I came to and your team mates...Well, let's just say they weren't exactly rushing into their tests so sorry for the delay.

I bet you're wondering why I saved you for last. You probably think it's just random or that maybe I have some hidden agenda well let me tell you it's much simpler than that.

I have chosen you last because your challenge will involve the well-being of the rest of your team mates. As we speak, Agents Morgan, Rossi, Jareau, Prentiss, Garcia and Dr. Reid are all going through the most horrifying and/or physically strenuous challenges that I could come up with.

It is your responsibility to save them.

How? Find the key to the locked door. Use the advice that I gave you, if you can understand it, it will lead you straight to the key. Once you find it, go to each door and let the team mate out. They lock from the outside so you should be able to open them.

Oh and if you do find the key and open doors, I suggest you be careful when opening the doors where Agent Prentiss and Dr. Reid are being held because letting out what is inside each room could be devastating, unless combined.

Start searching.

Hotch had no idea where to start. He was overwhelmed by the pressure on his shoulders. What would happen if he failed? Would his team mates die? Was the unsub bluffing? He doubted that. This unsub was one that usually held to his word. If he didn't find the key, his team mates would be harmed and it would be his fault. He couldn't live with that. So he started looking. The light hanging from the ceiling only illuminated the middle of the room while the corners were dark so that was the first place he looked.

At each corner, he dug through the mud and mold feeling for anything that wasn't soft. If there was a metal key in the pile of dirt, he was sure that he would feel it. While digging, he found several useless pieces of metal at each corner, but no key.

Let intelligence slow this endless nightmare. He thought, Intelligence. My intelligence? Profiling. How would that help me? He's a narcissist. It's in this room, but not in a place that I would think.

Let intelligence slow this endless nightmare.

The unsub is smart. This has a hidden meaning, but what is it? The endless nightmare is what we're in, in this place with him, but what does that have to do with intelligence? And how can I use my intelligence to slow it? What does this even have to do with the key?

His mind raced as he looked around the room, just running his hands against the walls frantically hoping that he would just come across it with pure luck, but that didn't work either.

Suddenly, before he could think of any more theories, he heard an awful sound.

It was screaming.

He listened carefully. It was coming from the room to his right, but he couldn't remember if that was JJ's room or Garcia's, but it was definitely a woman. It was a horrifying sound, almost unbearable. He had to find the key and soon.

Amidst the periodic screaming, he tried to think.

He's organized, loves patterns, tricks, riddles. Maybe it's not supposed to mean anything...Let intelligence slow this endless nightmare.

Let, L.

Intelligence, I.

Slow, S.

This, T.

Endless, E.

Nightmare, N.

Listen. It spelled listen.

Hotch froze in his tracks, listening closely for something, anything even though he wasn't sure what.

He heard the scream again

That wasn't it. He had to wait for the screaming to stop before he could find the key, but it went on for an agonizingly long time. He wondered what was happening.

Abruptly, it stopped.

He quickly tuned out the rest of the world, closed his eyes and listened. It was silent, serene even. Except for the slight buzzing noise coming from the light.

The light.

His head snapped up towards the bright light hanging from the ceiling. On the chain that the light was hanging from, he spotted some tape. He cursed at himself for not noticing it earlier. He reached up, straining to be able grab the light bulb. He flinched at the hot touch of the bare bulb that he grabbed, but pushed through the searing pain, pulling it down. To his surprise, the light bulb came down when he pulled so that he was able to reach the chain.

He ripped the key off and rushed to the door. Quickly, with one burnt hand, he opened the door and dashed to the right. He opened the room next to his, not able to remember if it was the one the screaming came from. Inside, it was pitch black. He couldn't see anything.

"Hello?" He called, not even able to see the hand in front of his face.

There was a shuffling noise, "Hotch?"

It was Garcia.

"Are you alright?" He asked quickly.

"Yes." She sounded closer.

Hotch reached out and felt her. He grabbed her shoulder gently and ushered her towards the door that he was holding open with his foot. Once they were both out, he let the door shut. In the hallway, where there were a few rays of light seeping in, he saw her. She looked fine.

"Morgan's a door down from me." She reported.

Hotch ran over and opened the door to the room that Morgan was in. As he pulled it open, he was blinded by the bright white walls of the room. It looked futuristic and remodeled like the room that they had been staying in. At first, he didn't see Morgan until he looked up at the ceiling. There, hanging from the handle on the ceiling was Morgan. He was sweating, holding on just by his fingers. It looked like he was losing his grip. And the drop from the ceiling down to the floor below would be enough for him to break his legs.

"Get the ladder!" Morgan urged, voice strained.

Hotch looked at Garcia, "Hold the door." He ordered and when she did, he ran over to the ladder lying on the ground and propped it back up underneath Morgan, who stepped down onto it gratefully. He massaged his muscles, panting.

Before Morgan started walking down the ladder, Hotch was leaving the room. "Don't shut the door until he's out, alright?" He said quickly before rushing down the hall. He opened the door on the other side of his: JJ's.

He remembered the screaming. He had forgotten to ask Garcia if it had been her.

He pulled the door open to find a dark room. On one wall there was a projector, projecting images on the opposite wall. It was showing just static. He assumed that whatever JJ had been watching had ended.

He looked around for her until he saw her sitting in the back corner, knees pulled to her chest, head down and hands over her ears. She hadn't even noticed that the door had opened.

As Morgan and Garcia came out of his room, one of them propped the door open while Hotch approached JJ.

"Hey..." He said, carefully, "It's Hotch. Are you hurt, JJ?"

Garcia and Morgan watched from the doorway.

Garcia looked at Morgan, "What do you think she was watching?"

"I don't want to know."

JJ didn't move.

Hotch touched her arm. She barely reacted. "You need to get out of this room. We have to help everyone else." He said, trying to convince her.

She was silent for another moment, "Is it over?" She asked without lifting her head.

Hotch glanced at the projecting image, it was just static. "Yes. It's over." He watched as she lifted her head, tear stains evident on her cheeks. He took her hand gently and led her out of the room, Garcia shutting the door behind them.

He left JJ with Garcia when he saw Morgan walking towards Emily's room. "Wait!" He called before Morgan opened it. He remembered what the unsub had told him about Emily and Reid's rooms.

What is inside could be devastating, unless combined.

"We have to open them at the same time." Hotch said, grabbing the door handle to Reid's door. He saw that Morgan looked confused, but luckily didn't challenged his order. "Ready? One, two, three!"

They both yanked their doors open. An unbearable heat wavered out of Emily's room, but it was barely noticeable as a huge wave of water flowed into the hall from Reid's. It knocked Hotch off his feet, but he was still able to clutch the door handle to keep it open. As the water flowed out, he saw Reid getting washed out of the room with it.

He was flailing, but alive. As he washed past Morgan and Hotch into shallower, slower water, he was able to come up to the surface. He coughed violently and gasped for air. He was close to Garcia and JJ by then so they both helped him to his feet.

Once the water was done coming out of Reid's room, Morgan rushed into Emily's room. It looked barren and burnt. He assumed that there had been a fire of some sort before the water had flowed in and put it out.

Emily was on her hands and knees in the middle of the room.

At first, Morgan thought she was hurt, but she proved him wrong before he could even walk through the doorway.

"What the hell was that?" She asked incredulously as she stood up, clothes covered in ashes. "Here I was thinking I was about to be burnt to death and then the door opens and I have start to worrying about not drowning in this enormous tsunami?"

Morgan smirked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Emily said as she walked past Morgan and out the door. "One more minute though and I would have been toast, literally."

They both watched as Hotch opened the door to Rossi's room only to have the older man rush out almost immediately. He was shivering violently. "I...I heard y-you talking. S-so c-cold."

Hotch looked at the team, "Come on let's get back to our room. It'll be warm, dry and safe." He said, walking towards it.

The team followed, battered, broken, but alive.

"There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive."

Jack London