A wide, smug grin stretched Peter Lewis's lips.

He'd known he could rely on his powers of concentration to excavate the information. His brain and what he could do, and had done, by virtue of its superiority were the only trustworthy things in his universe.

Well…that and a life sentence surrounded by the mental equivalent of well-trained dogs, which I utterly refuse!

Rossi's phone number wavered before Lewis's mind's eye. As he knew it eventually would, it resolved into crystal clarity. Got it!

They'd taken his watch, but he could gage the time of day. Morning. A little before noon. It was as good a time as any to see if he'd have more success reaching the senior agent of the BAU than he had its leader.

Lewis raised his voice. "Guard! Sir? May I please try my phone call again? Please?"

He adopted his most ingratiating expression as a uniformed jailer approached.

He had no idea how unsettling they found his mirthless smile and icy, untouched eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rossi opted to stay downstairs while Reid examined Hotch.

He shared Morgan's concerns, but felt his presence would be a matter of too many chefs in a one-cook kitchen. Besides, he was tired. He made fresh coffee and discussed things of negligible import with a nonetheless attentive Mudgie.

He was just beginning to consider dragging upstairs to his bedroom in hopes of a catnap, when all hell broke loose. Dave froze, cup halfway to lip, when Hotch's deep baritone gave voice to what didn't even sound human. More like a combination bear/lion issuing a warning to the world at large. It was followed by pounding footsteps, a door slamming back on its hinges, and a tremendous thud he would later find out was a result of Morgan taking Hotch down onto the mattress.

Rossi abandoned his coffee and sprinted for the staircase.

That was when his phone went off, demanding attention when he had little to spare. He pulled the device from his pocket and answered without bothering to check caller ID.

"Rossi here…" Dave was taking the stairs two steps at a time.

"Ah…good. Agent Rossi, this is Peter Lewis." The voice was velvety smooth, oily…bringing things unpleasant and things unclean to mind. "I think I have something you need… We should talk…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

By the time Rossi ended the call with Lewis, things had quieted upstairs.

Dave resumed his ascent, but was met by Morgan and Reid in the hallway just outside Hotch's room. All three looked troubled for different reasons.

"What's up, man? You look like you got bad news…" Derek frowned at the expression on Rossi's face.

"Later. First tell me how it went." The older man nodded in Hotch's direction. "How's he doing? What was all that commotion I heard?"

"I don't know" Reid shrugged at the same time he gave Morgan a disapproving look. "All I can say is I'm willing to bet that a modified kind of NLP was the technique Lewis used on Hotch. I thought I was getting somewhere with him, but then…" Shaking his head, he narrowed his eyes at Derek.

"Hey. I thought you were in trouble. I'm sorry, okay? I'd do it again given the same circumstances." Morgan tried for an injured air, but he had to admit that if Spencer managed to calm Hotch in the end, he probably would have been able to take care of himself without Derek's intervention.

Rossi rubbed a hand over his weary face. "Whatever happened, you two can point fingers at each other later. How's Hotch now? Better?"

"Well, he's sleeping, so that's a good thing." Morgan looked to the young genius for corroboration.

"Maybe." Reid couldn't help feeling the session had granted him a look inside a cage, but not the key to open it. "Sleep is good; helps sort things out, like I've said before. But…" He looked down at his feet, lips beginning to twist and churn in the way that told his colleagues he was distressed.

"Spit it out, Pretty Boy."

"I'm not sure if he's better." Reid gave a dejected sigh. "I don't think I did any lasting good. If I had, he wouldn't have gone all…you know…" He glanced at Morgan. "…all out of control and unthinking again."

Rossi's shoulders sagged. "Do you need more time? Is there anything else you could try? Or any other solutions, other methods that might help? Anything?"

The other two exchanged concerned glances. There was an edge of desperation to Dave's inquiry. Reid fidgeted, chewing his lip again. "I don't have any ideas right now. Let me do some more research. And let's see how Hotch feels when he wakes up." His voice dropped, less like talking to his teammates; more as though he were thinking out loud. "Maybe it'd be worth it to interview Peter Lewis and see if I can glean some direction that way…"

Rossi's sharp intake of air caught their attention. "I hope it doesn't come to that, but…" He glanced toward Hotch's closed door. "…let's go downstairs."

Reid and Morgan followed their host to the living room, feeling increasingly uneasy. Derek broke the silence first.

"So what's goin' on that you don't want Hotch to hear?"

Rossi perched on the edge of his sofa, too tense to assume a more comfortable position. "While you boys were roughhousing up there, I got a phone call." He gave each agent a significant look. "Peter Lewis."

"What? Why? What's he doing calling you?" Derek leaned forward from where he was sitting, anxious for an answer. The vision of the unsub's smug satisfaction as he'd been taken away was still sharp in his memory. So were Lewis's taunts about what he'd done to their Unit Chief.

Reid felt his breath shorten and his stomach roll. "He wants to use Hotch as a bargaining chip. That's it, isn't it, Rossi? He's gonna hold Hotch's mental health over us to get whatever it is he wants. Right?"

All Dave could do was nod…

…and hope that the team genius could think of a way around giving Lewis access to their leader.