Haha, it didn't take me nearly as long to update this time! :D Enjoy~

Guest: I'm kind of glad that I caught you off guard; one of my goals for the chapter was to throw people off a bit ;) Hopefully this chapter will give you an insight on what's going to happen to JJ and Hotch~ Thanks for reading and reviewing :D

Warnings: mild language, violence and blood, gruesome images, spoilers to season 2 "The Big Game" and "Revelations", season 4 "Omnivore", season 5 "Nameless, Faceless"

For a moment, neither man said a word, both Hotchner and Foyet sizing each other up, their intense gazes never wavering. Hotch was glaring with the utmost hatred he had while Foyet's mouth was curled into a smug smirk, only serving to enhance that blood-red hatred.

Hotchner clenched his fists and bit out, "Where are we, Foyet?"

The Reaper's callous light brown eyes gleamed with amusement as he drawled, "I believe I just told you, Aaron—Hell."

Hotch suppressed the very tempting urge to roll his eyes. "Amusing—now where are we really?"

Foyet barked out a laugh. "Would you believe me if I told you that we were at grandma's house and that you're Little Red Riding Hood? Heh, I guess that would make me the Big Bad Wolf."

Hotchner couldn't suppress a growl. "I don't have time for games, Foyet. Where are we?"

Foyet darkly chuckled and shook his head. "Aw Aaron don't be a stick in the mud. Lighten up will you. I'm only trying to have a little fun. You should appreciate my efforts seeing that I was nice enough to bring you here. I literally had to pick you up and drag you to my car. Damn, do you know how heavy you are?"

Hotch set his jaw and tried to reign in his anger that was increasing faster than the mercury in a thermometer on a boiling summer day. "I wasn't brought here willingly…wherever here is."

The Reaper sneered and replied, "You won't drop this, will you? It won't do you any good to know the location because you're not leaving anyways. Hell this might even be your gravesite if I'm feeling generous." When Hotchner's glare became fiercer, Foyet sighed, and his grin grew wider with malevolence. "Fine if you must know, we're at Tobias's mom's home. She let Hankel and I…borrow it for the time being." He then swept an arm around to gesture to the area. "Nice place, wouldn't you say—it has a very warm, comfortable atmosphere…ironically."

Hotchner blinked in confusion at the information. "This is Martha Hankel's home?"

Foyet briefly narrowed his eyes as a shadow crossed his face, yet the amused expression never left. "I think you mean Martha Emerson—she's remarried in case you didn't know."

The profiler didn't say a word as his mind started rebooting to process this. Only days ago Rossi and Reid had visited this place to warn Martha about Tobias only to come back claiming that she and her husband were visiting some relatives out of state. If his two colleagues had arrived later then they might've been able to catch Foyet and Tobias with the Emersons' help.

Or maybe it wouldn't have worked in their favor. What if they had arrived later only to have been face-to-face with Foyet and Tobias? Hotch instinctively stiffened at the thought, and was somewhat glad that they didn't catch up with the Emersons.

Unfortunately that did leave other matters to deal with.

Hotchner deduced that it was highly unlikely that Martha Emerson would willingly let her son and a renowned serial killer use her home as a hideout, indicating that there were other hostages besides himself and JJ. He figured that perhaps the Emersons were in the house somewhere, leaving at least two other people captive; he couldn't even account for any children in the family either.

And of course this was also assuming that Foyet or Tobias hasn't murdered them yet.

He repressed a shudder at the thought and stared into the merciless eyes of Foyet as they burned alight with sadistic pleasure. "What have you done with Martha and Richard Emerson?"

Foyet's eyes briefly widened and glowed as his smirk deepened into a sneer. "Ah so you do know about that twisted portion of Tobias's screwed up life. Tell me Aaron—do you think it's fair that dear Martha abandoned her precious little Tobias all because her foolish lady heart fell in love with another man?"

"Foyet-" Hotchner started warningly, his temper steadily increasing with every word his enemy spoke.

"You know, speaking of women walking out on their husbands," Foyet interrupted as he completely ignored the other's lethal tone. "Is that why Hayley left you, Aaron?" He smirked when Hotchner's glower darkened like a demonic aura. "Did she find someone else and move on with them, taking your son with her? Is that what happened between you two, Aaron, or were you just a terrible husband?"

He paused and waited for Hotchner's response, seeming eager and curious like a perverse teenager torturing a helpless cat for the hell of it. However, the profiler wouldn't give him the satisfaction of an answer or his anger so he merely tightened his jaw and wore his usual death glare, serious and completely unreadable.

Disgruntled, Foyet's expression blackened before shifting back to its cool shade. He displayed some near-perfect teeth with an eerie grin. "Maybe I'm wrong, maybe there isn't another guy. But I am right about you being a terrible husband, aren't I?"

Foyet took in Hotch's knitted brows and how his form became tense, relishing in it and smiled. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Yet her defense, Aaron, you are—ahem were—a terrible husband. After all, you put her and her only son in danger. Now they constantly have to live in fear of me slitting their throats in their sleep. But don't worry I would never do that to them; when I kill them, I'll make sure to do more than just slit their throats. I was thinking of doing something more agonizingly creative while they're awake so that they can feel every stab of my knife, and so that I can see every ounce of fear in their eyes. Oh and of course there'll be blood…lots of it."

A murderous glint lit up Foyet's cold brown orbs as he watched Hotchner's reaction. The profiler used every fiber of his being to hold back his temper and scream out death threats to Foyet. More than anything he wanted that smug, well-known expression on Foyet's face to melt and permanently burn off. If he wasn't tied up, nothing would've held him back from punching the Reaper across the jaw and break his gleaming teeth from his predatory smile.

Hotchner had to take some subtle deep breaths and mentally count to himself before he was able to steadily question, "What have you done with the Emersons, Foyet?"

The Reaper fiercely glowered at him, all traces of self-superiority gone, and released an exasperated sigh. "Must you repeat every question I choose not to answer? Jeez if I knew you were going to be a broken record I would've conked you out longer." He paused for a moment. "And if I knew that you weren't going to amuse me for the time being then I would've waited until later to get you riled up." He shifted his gaze over to the still unconscious JJ, and Hotchner stiffened upon recognizing that familiar sense of calculation and malice in his eye and bit down any rising alarm.

"The Emersons, Foyet," Hotchner pressed, hoping to draw his attention away from her. "What have you done with them?"

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?" When Hotch's response was only a shadowed glare, Foyet scoffed and said, "Well they're not dead if you're so concerned. Those pathetic wastes of life will get what's coming to them when the time is right."

"Why target them?" Hotchner inquired though he was sure of the answer.

Foyet harshly laughed with amusement. "You disappoint me, Aaron. I would think a smart, all-knowing profiler would find it obvious."

Hotch bit back a retort at Foyet's mocking tone and instead stated, "Enlighten me."

Foyet grinned at his reply and remarked, "Sure thing—I'm more than happy to educate the ignorant." He chuckled and then continued: "As you know I've…gotten to know Tobias by personal and no-so personal means—aka I researched him. One of the things I've learned is that Tobias's condition was partially caused by his abuse as a child. But funny thing is that I noticed that the abuse started happening after his mother left the family. Coincidence? I doubt it.

"So after a quick talk with 'Charles' Hankel, I discovered that he still has some unresolved issues with her that I can empathize with. After I found out that dear Ms. Martha was still alive, I thought I'd be generous and let Tobias elucidate all his problems with her while I sat back and watched."

Hotchner scoffed and stated, "You're a psychopath, you don't have feelings so I doubt you felt generous. What's your true purpose with Martha Emerson?"

Foyet's ominous chuckle boiled up Hotchner's previous locked away anger, threatening to unleash it. "My true purpose? Why I already told you, Aaron. Do you peg me as a liar?"

"You lied when you claimed that you were attacked by the Boston Reaper, and I'm sure you've been lying to Tobias these past few days." Foyet sniggered at the truth of it as well as his own pride in his actions. Hotchner frowned at him and asked, "What's in it for you?"

For a while Foyet said nothing and merely held Hotch's severe stare, smirking as he did. Eventually he slowly reached into his trench coat and pulled something that made Hotchner instinctively stiffen. Foyet carefully twirled his switchblade in his hands and admired its sneering silver gleam while Hotchner warily eyed it, all too clearly recalling the memories it held.

Try to relax…your body will go numb (another sickening stab into his torso) and it goes in so much easier, if you relax. The hard part…is not passing out from the pain.

Hotchner unconsciously cringed at the burning image of Foyet stabbing him and the intense, searing pain that followed only to repeat god knows how many more times.

He was lying on his back, weak and helpless, blood trickling around him though he wasn't quite sure where it originated from. His vision was fading, and he knew that he was going to lose consciousness soon enough. Foyet was right—he had lost a lot of blood.

Hotchner was vaguely aware that the Reaper had just removed the knife after stabbing him for the…third time, fourth time…? He couldn't be sure, he lost count after the first infliction, the pain being unbearable even then. He couldn't help but release a soft groan as the sound of juicy flesh squished sickeningly against an already bloodied blade hit his ears.

As the knife was slowly pulled out, Hotch's vision blurred and dark spots shadowed over his eyes, blocking the dim lighting of his apartment. Foyet then came into view, looming over him. Hotch desperately wished he was strong enough to fight him or to even run, yet alas he was unable to sit up let alone move.

Foyet took in his weakened state and smirked for a moment before asking out of the blue, "Do you want to see my scars?"

Hotchner mentally made a face at the thought, but didn't say a word—not that his opinion mattered to the murderous sociopath. After a moment, Foyet carefully placed the knife on Hotch's stomach and removed his gloves. Then he slowly got up, roughly unzipped his jacket, and pulled out of the garment. Once he was fully standing, he turned on a light from a nearby lamp and took off his shirt. Though Hotchner was barely conscious, he was given full view to the sight above him.

Foyet proudly displayed some horrid scars that were etched into his pale, taut skin, the sight unwillingly etching themselves into Hotch's long-term memory.

He knew that even if he were to somehow miraculously get out of this alive, those scars were sure to haunt him in his dreams and unnerve his worst nightmares.

The light helpfully exhibited the scars, highlighting them in sharp relief, and Foyet allowed some time to pass for Hotchner to take a good, long look at them. He unhurriedly walked around Hotchner until he was standing over him again, giving him a better angle for the horridly vivid perspective.

The corner of Foyet's lips twitched a bit as if he were holding back a smug grin. He held out his arms to present his grand display. "What do you think? Do you like 'em?" His focus sharpened on his victim, and Hotch felt dread strike him like an arrow. "Yours are gonna look just the same."

As much as Hotchner hated to admit it, Foyet was right in the end. When he was lying in his hospital bed, the profiler willed himself to look under the bandages and glance at the scars. Once he did, he couldn't stop staring until a nurse came in and put some new dressings on, seeing that he basically ripped apart the old ones. The scars were worse than he could've imagined, and they turned even his strong stomach. From that moment on, whenever Hotch removed his shirt, his gaze would linger on those gruesome marks, and he couldn't help but think that they did look like Foyet's self-inflicted wounds.

It sickened and appalled Hotchner that he and that sick, murderous bastard had something in common.

"What's in it for me?" Hotchner forced himself to focus when Foyet spoke. "What do you think is in it for me? I thought you knew me better than that, Aaron. Not only does your precious profile of me speak for itself, but you know me from our encounters. I take any chance I can to mutilate some worthless being, and Martha just happens to be a top contender."

"So Tobias is willingly going to let you kill his mother?"

"Tobias? Probably not. 'Charles' though? I don't think he'd mind as long as she dies in the bloodiest way possible, which I am more than happy to do if he asks me to." He fingered his switchblade almost lovingly before he continued. "To be completely honest though, I'm doing this more for myself than Hankel's benefit. I figured if we were to get a hold of Martha, then Hankel would have his chance to take retribution against her for essentially ruining his life, all while I would get a place to set up for my new hobby."

He gestured around the area with a sweep of his knife. "This place may not be my first choice, but if 'Raphael' and I are going to post up some videos then we'd need a place to assemble the proper equipment. So it's a win-win situation for me. And Hankel, he gets to exact his revenge while I get to carry out mine. By the way, did you see the recent videos we made? I think they're true masterpieces, worthy enough for an Oscar."

Foyet smirked with dark amusement as Hotchner briefly answered, "Yes I did see them."

"And what did you think?"

"They certainly didn't deserve an Oscar. They were just like you—ruthless, bloody, and awful to look at."

Foyet laughed and condescendingly shook his head. "Flattery isn't going to help you, Aaron."

"Those weren't compliments-"

"But I'm willing to take them as such." Foyet smirked as Hotchner pressed his lips into a thin line, almost like a tightrope before he resumed. "Ah everyone's a critic and you, Aaron, are the biggest one of all—your huge ego won't allow you to be anything less. You know that Tobias thinks you're a narcissist, right?"

Hotchner automatically tensed up as he non-too difficultly recalled Tobias's last video before his capture. Reid was forced to choose one of his teammates to die or be killed himself. At first Reid had refused and only tested Tobias's patience until finally the young profiler used his wits and sent a message to the team, to Hotch in particular. He had called Hotchner a narcissist, referring to a conversation they once had, and the team was able to pick up on the clue to his whereabouts and save him.

So it appears that Foyet has seen all of Tobias's old videos…

Either that or the archangel personality of Tobias hasn't forgotten.

Foyet read the sense of horrified remembrance and eerily smiled. "Oh, I know exactly what you're thinking and yes, I have seen that video. Hell, even if I haven't, 'Charles' would've told me anyways—as you can tell by all of our chaos, we've really been bonding. We just have so many things in common it's unbelievable. Like for instance, we have a common enemy: the almighty BAU team from Quantico; except Hankel and I have specific FBI agents in mind."

The Reaper's grin grew more malevolent, and it took every portion of Hotchner's being to keep his seemingly collected mask in check, despite that the outrage he was feeling was festering to new boiling levels. Foyet leaned in closer and gestured to him with his switchblade. "You don't know how thrilled I am to have you here, Aaron. It saves me the trouble of trying to find you later. Now the only thing left to do is find Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid so that Hankel can deal with him, and then the real fun can begin. Doesn't that sound great?"

The smirk that followed made Hotchner's blood pressure rise and caused his mask to briefly break, allowing a black scowl to mar his smooth features. "You're not going to get to him, Foyet. After the stunt you pulled tonight, my team is going to be more determined than ever to find you and Tobias. It's only a matter of time before your plans go up in flames, and you'll be behind bars for the rest of your life where you'll stay there to rot."

Hotch was counting on Foyet to be angry, yet was disappointed when he produced that obnoxious, all-too familiar bark of laughter that constantly grated on his nerves. "Never pegged you as the blind optimist type. Heh, I guess ya learn something new every day."

The Reaper shrugged, as if the subject of conversation was as casual as he was. "But even I'll have to admit you have some points. Your precious team is gonna panic the moment they realize you and Ms. Jareau are missing, if they haven't already realized it already, that is. You can say that I'm actually counting on them to put up their guard, especially around the kid. It's inevitable that things will get a little…tense, protective, and even a bit desperate amongst 'em, so Hankel and I will have no choice but to lay low for a while. We'll bide our time until we can jump Dr. Reid and have the both of you here. But until then, I'd like to think we'll manage; not only will we have the videos to pass the time, but we have other matters on our hands that require our attention."

His eyes shifted over to JJ again, and Hotch felt panic seize him tightly by the chest until he couldn't breathe. "You can't avoid my team forever. Tobias hasn't been fully on your side these past few days. That much is gathered from how the two of you let the Ruizes and Anna Baker go. If you keep slipping up like that then I guarantee that you'll be apprehended before your next strike."

Hotchner was somewhat satisfied yet mildly nervous to see Foyet's face contort into an unnatural shade of red that dimly reminded him of Lucifer. The Reaper's glare burned into him, but Hotch refused to be shaken. "Oh trust me when I say that those were mere flukes," he lethally snarled. "Tobias may have been whining like the do-gooding bastard he is ever since we started this partnership, but it ends now. His other personalities have been able to deal with him before, but now that I'm here, he doesn't stand a chance. If he wasn't strong enough to stop them, then he and his one-man show have no chance against all of us." He mirthlessly smirked at the phrase 'all of us'. "And besides, I can deal with him myself if I need to. I don't think I need to remind you about the fire at that gas station."

Carefully observing Hotchner's eyes widening in recognition, Foyet relished in the small pang of victory he felt before he drawled, "That fire was all me; it was my way of teaching Tobias what happens when someone tries getting in my way. Ah you should've seen the look on his face. He was so horrified by all that chaos and flaming hell…it was truly an enthralling sight. Shit, he couldn't even speak, and it's interesting to note that since then, I haven't seen him once." Foyet released a darkly pleased chuckle. "He's probably sulking within the contours of his own mind as we speak. What a fucking wuss."

Hotchner hardened his jaw and tried to keep his expression passive as he stated, "And yet he was still able to throw you off your game."

The profiler wasn't prepared when Foyet ruthlessly punched him across the face. Hotch bit back a yell and emitted a grunt instead as his head backlashed against the brutal fist. Though he had expected Foyet to violently retaliate at some point, he was still somewhat taken off guard. However, as he tasted the coppery familiarity of blood in his mouth, Hotchner made sure to mentally adjust himself if he was to endure more hits.

"He didn't throw me off entirely," Foyet menacingly growled. "Sure, he may have created some minor inconveniences, but it's nothing I can't handle." Then he paused and didn't say another word, seeming trying to calm himself down. Hotchner took that moment to spit out some of the blood pooling within his mouth, aiming for the carpet next to him though the temptation of spitting on Foyet's shoes was strong.

Foyet frowned at him with disgust and thinly-veiled amusement before saying, "Tobias is currently incapacitated so I won't have to deal with him for the time being. But if and when he comes back, I'll be more than happy to remind him that crossing me will raise consequences, more specifically for the people around us."

A cool, dark smirk twitched at the corners of Foyet's mouth, and Hotchner clenched his fists, despite that it only served to tighten his bonds. "Just because you can't deal with him yourself doesn't mean you have to take it out on innocent civilians."

The profiler mentally prepared himself for another strike, yet was somewhat surprised when Foyet snorted. "Actually it does. You see, Aaron, I don't mind killing people to serve my purpose whatever it may be at any given time. If anything I enjoy it, it's an art to me. So if I must set a gas station on fire or shoot up a bus just to get my point across then so be it."

He looked pointedly at Hotchner, smugly smirking in a way that proved him to be the arrogant sociopath he's profiled as. "As I have said before and will keep emphasizing now, you should've made the deal. If you had, maybe none of this would be happening. Maybe I could be sitting somewhere in Boston happy as a clown while you waste your pitiful life trying to play the hero. But instead we're here in Atlanta because I want to quench my bloodlust that you could've prevented, and I have an ally that you would rather not have to deal with again. And to add to it all, now not only have you put your beloved family in danger, but your beloved team as well…and I'm not just talking about Dr. Reid."

Watching Foyet glance at an unconscious JJ a third time nearly made Hotchner explode with fury and a wave of determined protectiveness surged within him.

He'll be damned if Foyet even thought he could get away with laying a hand on her.

"If you dare hurt her-" Hotch began to threaten through clenched teeth, unable to stop himself.

"You'll what?" Foyet haughtily challenged. "Face it Aaron, you won't be able to do shit to protect Ms. Jareau no matter how much you want to. I'm planning on leaving scars on her pretty face, and it'll be all your fault. You dragged her into this, you dragged your team into this, and, hell, you even dragged Tobias into this. If you had just agreed to my terms, none of this would be happening. So knowing that you brought a world of blood and pain on yourself and your dear colleagues, I have to ask Aaron: why didn't you make the deal?"

Though Foyet's tone held a superior air, Hotchner could still hear the underlying steely edge to it. The profiler took a moment to regain himself, striving to maintain a calm composure despite the constant, horrible images of JJ and Reid covered with blood and sporting fresh scars invading his vision.

Hotch closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reopened his orbs to gaze intently into Foyet's. "Like I said before, I don't make deals—I'm the guy who hunts guys like you. I don't regret denying the deal any more than you regret killing again. Besides, even if I did agree to your terms, then your murderous tendencies would've surely risen again somehow, and you would've kept busy through destructive means.

"In fact, this…everything that you're doing with Tobias probably would've crossed your mind at some point if that were the case. Nothing would've really stopped you so what would've been the point of making a deal if you were just going to break it once you had the chance?"

The Reaper's expression twitched from its confident, pretentious mask and briefly revealed a look of mildly startled realization that proved Hotchner's point. "You can mock the BAU's methods all you like, but we both know that you're everything your profile shows you to be, a narcissistic sociopath. It would only be a matter of time before you lost control of your own dispositions."

Foyet bristled with rage which Hotch felt before his face twisted into a black sneer. "Well I guess we'll never find out now, and you're right, I am a narcissistic sociopath. Here's the kicker though—I have no problem with that. I enjoy killing people and watching them suffer by my hand. It's truly a sight to watch them writhe in pain and listen to their pathetic whimpering and begging and crying. You don't know how much I love it, Aaron. It gets me going, and it keeps me going as I live my life. You and very few others get to witness what I can accomplish, so consider yourself lucky."

He glimpsed at JJ once more before he eyed his switchblade, his gloved hand lightly caressing the metal. "Or maybe not, depending how you look at it."

Hotchner tensed up, but took a lot of conscious effort to keep a blank face as his eyes narrowed to a steady glare. Yet he couldn't bring himself to say anything as he and Foyet engaged in another edgy stare-down.

"Foyet? You around here?" Hotchner's head snapped to look towards the archway connecting the rooms, his orbs briefly widening and his body stiffening at the sound of an all-too-familiar growl. Soon another individual entered the room, and Hotchner found himself locking gazes with a pair of angry, callous brown eyes that narrowed into a frown at the sight of him.

The profiler returned Tobias Hankel's glower until the other man turned to Foyet and stated, "I see this demon is awake."

Foyet practically beamed with the underlying sense of shared malice between them. "Hey Hankel, I'm glad you're here. I'd like to personally introduce you to the narcissist of the BAU. This is Aaron Hotchner and Aaron," he addressed Hotch, "this is Charles Hankel. You two may have heard of each other, but this is the perfect opportunity for you guys to get to know each other on a personal basis."

Foyet's grin shifted to a smirk at Tobias's—no, Charles's—snort of disgust. "As if I want to associate with a devil of Lucifer." Then he turned his glare to Hotchner again. "Know this you Satan, you may have escaped Raphael's punishment before, but now there's no way you can avoid it this time. I'll personally make sure that you suffer to the fullest extent before your descent to Hell."

Hotchner went rigid at the amount of hatred he was presented with, aware that this was merely the thin layer of ice covering the dark abyss underneath. For a moment he could say nothing and could merely visually absorb the snarling behemoth a few feet away from him. Distantly he realized that this was what Reid looked at periodically between two days and who knows how many other times afterward. Hotch had to admit to himself that he was unnerved by Tobias's beast of a personality and wondered how on earth Reid was able to defy him, let alone look him in the eye without flinching.

At that second a flicker of rediscovered respect for his subordinate increased as Hotchner also recalled Reid's honest confession that he wasn't afraid of 'Charles' anymore.

How he was able to do it, on the other hand, was beyond him.

"Glad to see you two are getting chummy," Foyet mockingly commented, removing Hotchner from the safe crevices of his thoughts. "Just make sure you don't do a lot of talking though, Hankel. Aaron here is a 'master' profiler so he might try to manipulate and trick you somehow with his demonic ways." Hotchner glared at Foyet's bemused tone and practically simmered at his attempts to goad Tobias (Charles, he mentally corrected himself) more on his side.

Hankel's scowl etched deeper, darker as he growled, "I'm not weak so I won't be falling for anything." Then his head suddenly snapped to Hotch, and his glower dug further into his features. "You can try to convert my mind to your Devil ways all you want, but you'll never succeed. I have the power of God on my side so that makes me stronger than you. Evil shall not triumph as long as I'm around. I will beat you down until there's nothing left."

Despite having those threats basically spat out, Hotchner found himself only mildly put off. Being an experienced FBI agent, he's dealt with psychopaths with mental instabilities several times in his career before so he felt that 'Charles' was no different. Though his threatening presence was understandably unnerving and even made his blood freeze, Hotch refused to be intimidated and only took the man's words in stride.

He's just another Unsub. Remain professional.

"I'm not trying to convert your mind, Mr. Hankel," Hotchner carefully started off, "and I'm not a Devil, I'm a FBI agent. The only Devils around here are you and Foyet if you're willing to kill innocent people."

'Charles's' nostrils flared in offense. "Those damned wretches weren't innocent; they deserved their punishments! But you wouldn't know that because you're a spawn of Satan no matter what you say!"

Delusional and stubborn…

Yet instead of arguing with him or trying to appease him in some way, Hotch turned his attention to the Reaper. "So, Foyet, how long did it take you to convince Tobias to be on your side? How many lies did you have to tell him before he started to believe you?"

Foyet appeared to realize that Hotchner knew about his methods of manipulation because he sneered with pride. "Oh I didn't need to lie to Tobias at all. I told him my plans beforehand so he knew what he was getting in to yet he wanted no part of it. Hankel and 'Raphael', on the other hand, were more than happy to join me on their own."

Hotchner clenched his jaw and gritted out, "I'm sure they were. But what I'm trying to understand is how long it took for you to recognize that you had to continuously lie to them in order to have their full support."

The profiler was satisfied to observe a flicker of doubt cross Hankel's eyes before it was shadowed by his ever-present scowl. Foyet didn't seem to notice as he managed to keep his aggravatingly smug grin in place. "Why Aaron I'm a bit hurt that you would accuse me of being a liar. Don't you know that lying's a sin?"

"I know my Bible so I'm well aware of that. I'm just surprised that you know…or even care." Then Hotchner threw Foyet a look that dared him to challenge him.

'Charles' abruptly butted into the conversation with a disbelieving snort. "You're one to talk about lying; I doubt you know your Bible." He then glared at him with disapproval while Hotchner strained to maintain a neutral expression.

"Well believe it or not, I do, and I tend to follow it. It's your partner that doesn't read it." Hotchner quickly shot a glance at Foyet who merely smirked his way.

'Charles's' eyes narrowed dangerously as he angrily clipped, "Don't lie to me, you bastard! I know a sinner when I see one! You won't get to me with your damned manipulations! I'm not weak!" The man then set his jaw and looked as if he was ready to hit something or someone, most likely him.

Hotchner, however, wasn't too intimidated and calmly answered, "I never said that you were Mr. Hankel-"

"More lies!" 'Charles' viciously snapped. "How long do you intend to keep this up, demon?! I'm not gonna fall for any of it!"

Hotchner actually had to close his eyes to take a subtle deep breath as well as temper his ascending frustration, wondering how else to approach this. He's handled numerous varying cases of Unsubs, yet 'Charles' was proving to be difficult. Hotch mentally ran through Tobias's profile and hoped that it wasn't too outdated for his use.

Tobias's personalities believe that they were killing in the name of God, which suggests a psychopathy that displays extreme levels of disorganization. Yet Tobias's forensic counter-measures conveyed that he had some level of control…however not enough to stop them.

'Raphael' performed the killings, but exhibited signs of disorganization…which Tobias made up for. But what about 'Charles'…?

Yes, what about 'Charles'?

As Hotch thought about it, he realized with a dark stab of dread that the team never truly profiled the 'Charles' personality of Tobias. He never actively took part of the murders unless it was to intimidate Tobias into submission, which the BAU didn't learn about until later. Otherwise though Hotchner only had what he saw from the videos as well as his own perception of character.

"What's the matter, Aaron? Speechless?" Hotchner regained his bearings upon the assault of Foyet's ear-grating voice. He looked up at his nemesis and glared at the imperious smirk smearing his already-unsightly mug. "Don't you have anything to say in your defense, or do you know that Hankel's right?"

Foyet's smirk widened at Hotch's deepened glare. "You and I both know that he's not right. You're only agreeing with him to appease his…beliefs. But answer this for me, Foyet: how long can you keep it up?"

The Reaper raised an eyebrow, his presumptuous countenance never wavering. "I don't need to keep up anything, Aaron. One of the reasons why Hankel and I get along so well is because of what we believe in. For example, we both happen to believe that the FBI is full of pompous Satans that get in the way of our duties." Foyet then revealed some ridiculously white teeth that gleamed bright, revealing the sadist he is with one twisted smile.

Hankel nodded in agreement and folded his arms over his chest, his brow knitting to create tiny crevices. Hotchner willed himself to not comment and merely frowned, putting on his usual 'no-nonsense' death glare that tended to unnerve people and aiming it back and forth between Foyet and 'Charles'. Unfortunately, he didn't need to say anything after all because at that moment, to his utter horror, he heard JJ stir next to him.

He tensed when she lightly groaned and from his peripheral vision he saw her gradually coming to. Foyet and 'Charles' didn't miss the noise or the small, subtle movements and both instantly focused their attention on her. Foyet sneered as Hotch could sense more than see his malice-laced delight sky-rocketing while Hankel's scowl dug deeper into his features like a shovel to a grave.

After a few agonizing seconds, JJ finally regained consciousness, and she carefully blinked into awareness. Hotch quickly erased any signs of his concerns and turned to her, not saying a word and watching her reaction. Though she was still mildly disoriented, she instantly felt the strains of her bonds, and a small gasp left her lips as she struggled against them.

"JJ," he said calmly yet firmly.

The blonde woman instantly turned at the sound of his voice, her eyes widening as she took in his captive state as well as the ribbon of blood around his mouth from when Foyet punched him. Hotchner saw her clench her fists as if to suppress her trembling, and he silently hoped that his eyes would say enough without him having to say anything more. She looked back at him and understanding flickered within her blue orbs before it was overshadowed by panic and fear.

"Wakey, wakey Ms. Jareau, it's time for you to get up."

The FBI agents simultaneously looked to Foyet, and it took all of Hotchner's will-power to restrain his anger. The Reaper glanced haughtily at them, yet seemed more focused on JJ. More than anything, Hotch wished he was free just so he would be able to shield JJ if not protect her from the sadists in front of them.

Foyet seemed to be aware of his ire because he threw him a malevolent grin before shifting his full focus back to JJ. "Why Jennifer, I'm so glad you're up. I was beginning to worry that that nasty car crash gave you a concussion or something." He darkly chuckled and shook his head. "Oh we wouldn't want that now would we? No…we want you as relatively stable as possible so you won't have any, uh, distractions for all future pain."

He then slightly lifted up the switchblade in his hands as an indication, causing JJ's eyes to widen. Foyet noticed and snickered before he looked to 'Charles'. "You remember Mr. Charles Hankel right, Jennifer? He's Tobias's dad, and as you know, he had a hand in teaching Dr. Reid some manners."

JJ seemed to just realize 'Charles's' presence and outwardly flinched. Hotchner was fully aware that her breathing, initially weak and uneven, became short, shallow staccatos that lapsed into small shudders every now and then. The former unit chief tightened his jaw and wished that there was some way he could get his female subordinate out of this, or at the very least get a moment alone with her so he could assure her to not be afraid and discuss some strategies on dealing with both Foyet and Hankel.

Yet, to his surprise, Hotchner witnessed JJ suddenly straighten up and hold her chin out, her timid expression abruptly melting to give way to self-control and believable bravado. She coolly eyed Hankel and met the murderous glare he was giving her with a steely gaze of her own.

In that instant, Hotchner felt a touch of optimism ease his fears and, for a moment, he had hope that the two of them were going to get out alive and unscathed.

JJ briefly looked away from 'Charles' to steadily reply, "I don't go by Jennifer and only my friends call me JJ. You're not my friend…neither of you are, so I expect to be called Agent Jareau, Foyet."

Hotchner briefly felt a surge of pride before it was doused by Foyet's eerie, knowing chuckle. "Yeah, I don't think so. What's with the brave talk, Jennifer? All this time I was thinking that you were the nice girl of the FBI—the gentle, kind-hearted mommy of a little boy."

Just as quickly as JJ's resolve fueled her courage, it vanished like ghosts in the mist. Her eyes widened in horror as color washed from her face, leaving an unnatural paleness in its place. Even Hotch couldn't help but stiffen at the thought of Foyet knowing about Henry.

And yet, as he thought about it, he shouldn't have been so surprised. If the Reaper knew about Tobias then it was very likely that he had other information about the rest of the team as well.

The thought made Hotchner uneasy.

Foyet relished in JJ's fear before drawling, "Not so tough now, are you? Yes, Ms. Jareau, I know all about that adorable little son of yours. His name's Henry, right? He looks like a sweet kid from his pictures-"

"How much do you know about me and my team, Foyet?" Hotchner hurriedly cut in, recognizing the frantic state JJ was beginning to enter.

Foyet turned to Hotch, grinned, and evasively answered, "Enough to amuse me." Then he looked back to JJ. "Oh but I wouldn't be too worried, Jennifer. I would never touch your precious little boy." He watched her visibly relax before adding, "After all, there's only one kid I plan on killing…well two if you want to count Dr. Reid."

JJ's orbs dilated as horrible thoughts of both Jack and Reid getting slaughtered entered her mind. While Foyet observed her squirm, Hotchner briefly clenched his fists then stated, "Alright Foyet, so have at the two of us and the Emersons, which leaves at least four people trapped here. What exactly are your next steps?"

Foyet looked back at Hotchner and sneered. "Isn't it obvious, Aaron? Hankel and I plan on teaching you sinners a lesson, a very unpleasant one."

'Charles', who had been silent and merely regarding the entire conversation, nodded. "You devils are going to get what you deserve for going against God and openly defying His will."

Foyet laughed harshly and boisterously, then remarked, "You're damn right they are, but Hankel, I gotta ask ya: are you against hitting women?"

Hotchner was horrified to see 'Charles' look at him with disbelief before he scoffed. "I had a whoring bitch get ripped apart by dogs; I won't have trouble teaching this weakling woman about the consequences of sinning." Then he turned to JJ and growled, "If I recall, you were with Spencer Reid to interrogate my son on that fated day and, unless I'm mistaken, I believe you've dealt with my dogs before. I heard you screaming and them barking while I was taking cover in my cornfield. You were lucky that they didn't finish you off."

JJ blanched at the memory, and Hotchner internally cringed at the thought of what could've happened, yet managed to glare at 'Charles' to disguise his thoughts.

Foyet smirked and commented, "Oh, I'm gonna need to hear the details of that story later on. For now though, I think it's about time we got to business."

Hotchner was shocked and almost appalled to see 'Charles' actually smile a bit though it held vast levels of cruel satisfaction. "Finally."

Foyet grinned at him, readjusted his position on his knife, and maliciously glanced between the FBI agents. "But the only question is…" he suddenly settled his gaze on JJ, "how long will it take for Jennifer to start screaming for mercy?"

Yeah, I had to cut it off there or else the chapter would be too long. Also, it's kind of long as it is... (sheepish smile) Besides, this seemed like a good a place as any to cut it off.

Anyways, thanks for reading and see you next time :D