Hotch called Garcia immediately.

"The oracle is in, how may I assist you?"

"Garcia, pull up records from the Fairfax Adult Correctional Facility, prison number 5169558."

"You got it, boss-man. One second." He could hear her typing furiously. "Got it! His name is Casey Banks and he was arrested about a year and a half ago for the murders of three women and was sentenced to death by lethal injection a week ago."

"That's right around the time the missings started. Does he have any family?"

"Yes. His parents died two years ago, both from natural causes, and he has two brothers. His brother Dylan committed suicide two years ago and his other brother Kevin is a chemical researcher who works out of his home in Dumfries, Virginia and I'm sending you the address now."

"Has there been any shipments to his house lately?"

"He just got two in yesterday... Oh my goodness..."

"What is it?"

"The shipments were all the ingredients necessary to make ether and chloroform." They all shared a look.

"Thanks Garcia." Hotch hung up.

In the blink of an eye, they arrived at the home of Kevin Banks. A middle aged brown haired man with blue eyes answered the door.

"Hello. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Kevin Banks?"

"Yes?"

"FBI," said Rossi, holding up his badge. "We need to ask you some questions about your brother, Casey."

Kevin pursed his lips. "Of course. Please, come in."

They entered what looked to be a typical male bachelor pad. There was a flat screen TV, brown couch, a recycling bin full of pizza boxes, and a small kitchen that seemed unused.

Rossi began asking questions, but first asked if the other agents had his consent to search his house for clues. He complied, which made their job a lot easier.

Prentiss and Morgan searched the upstairs while JJ and Hotch looked at his lab.

At first glance the lab was deceptively plain. There were beakers and test tubes, a desk with notepads scattered messily over top of it, a pair of safety goggles, a whiteboard which held different mathematical equations, and cabinets filled with different chemicals.

"It doesn't look like anything's out of place." JJ commented.

"Don't be so sure." Said Hotch. Just under the desk was a tiny button, almost unnoticeable because it blended perfectly with the wood of the desk. When he pushed it, a smaller drawer hidden from plain sight opened.

Inside were two bottles of ether and chloroform, a rag, a small bag of a white, powdery substance, and three or four syringes. Hotch called Rossi.

"We got our guy."

They took him away, just as Prentiss and Morgan came downstairs.

"We found these in his bedroom." They held out a pair of contacts and a voice modulator to Hotch. He nodded.

"Good work. Now, let's find Reid."

Spencer Reid shivered in the cold steel room. He was freezing, but that was the least of his problems. The voices had begun their verbal assault. He knew the hallucinations would set in soon. He knew from "The Doctor" that he would only be in here for a day, but that didn't help his hunger, thirst, or need to go to the bathroom. He saw the camera recording him, and wondered if the government was watching him, just like Mommy had told him. Unconsciously, he started to whimper, terrified of what was to become of him. Because he was tied up, he couldn't even suck his thumb for comfort. The only other thing in the room besides himself, the chair, and the camera, was a syringe that was carelessly left on the floor. He wanted to examine it, but was very much aware that the hallucinations would begin before he could get very far. To his utter dismay, they had already begun.

Garcia had been digging up dirt on Kevin Banks all afternoon. A former government researcher, he had been fired for illegal experimentation. He had been given a few loans and grants to secretly and meticulously continue his work despite that. Besides the home he had for himself, the only property he owned was a tiny, run-down shack that was literally falling apart at the seams. She was about to call Hotch with the information when a new window popped up on her screen. At first it was just a little black square, but soon there was a white line coming across it, and she could tell it was loading something. When the trail ended, Reid appeared on the screen, head bowed, and rocking back and forth in the chair, constantly mumbling to himself over and over again.

"It's not real. It's not real. It's not real." Each time it got higher and higher in pitch as he trembled in his seat and finally broke down and cried. She wanted to cry, but she knew she had to tell Hotch what she'd found. Still watching the torturous video, she called her boss feeling like her heart had been ripped out of her chest.

"Yeah Garcia, what have you got?"

"Kevin Banks owns one other property that we know of." She read them the address, and Hotch and Rossi decided to go and investigate it while Morgan and Prentiss took in Banks for questioning.

The tiny wooden shack reminded them of an outhouse. It was tiny, and couldn't have been more than 800 feet all the way around. It had an upstairs, which was more of a loft bed, and the downstairs held a tiny kitchen and bathroom.

"There's something we're not seeing here." Rossi commented. There was an area rug that covered a small part of the entryway. When they moved it, they revealed a tiny door, just big enough to fit a person through it. With their flashlights on, they found stairs that led to the bottom, like a basement. However, there was no big room at the end, just a skinny hallway that went both ways. Hotch went left and Rossi went to the right.

Hotch found that his hallway led to a confusing maze of rooms. It was almost like an entire underground network, only every single room was empty. Clearly, they had been used. For what, he did not know.

Rossi had found a route that was more clear-cut. There was a single wooden door with a lock on it, and an older, circular handle that was different shades of dark brown and white paint. When he unlocked the door, it led to a single room. There were boxes and boxes of canned food, toilet paper, guns, ammunition, and a few different mattresses with pillows and a blanket for each bed. He realized that Banks must have been preparing for the end of the world. What interested him the most, however, was the riveted steel door at the end of the room. He guessed that it was a panic room.

"Hotch," Said Rossi into his walkie talkie, "I think I found him."

"I'll be right there."

Hotch arrived within five minutes of the end of the call. They both glanced at the door, wondering if Reid was behind it. They both unbolted the lock and very slowly opened the door.

They were hopelessly underprepared for what they saw.

In the middle of the room sat Spencer Reid, who looked sickly after not even one day of captivity. Dark circles looked like bruises under his eyes and his skin was sallow. His face was gaunt and looked sunken in. His wrists were raw and bleeding as he tried to break free of his bindings. He shook with tremors going up and down his back, and kept mumbling to himself. Hotch called for a medic.

The light blinded Reid from inside the dark room, and a rush of terror swept through him. Was his captor back? What was going to happen to him? He couldn't see the face of whoever was coming in and tried to back away. The action made Rossi cringe inside. Spencer looked like a frightened animal who had lost his way from the pack.

"Reid? You okay?" The voice of David Rossi echoed through the steel walls and brought relief to Spencer. Still being tortured by his own mind, the words that came out were "Kind of..."

When his wrists were freed he rubbed them automatically, despite the fact that doing so against the tender skin was excruciatingly painful. He wanted so badly to cry. He fumbled into his pants pocket, fingers desperately trying to find his cell phone. When he did, he found out that it was dead. He tried not to show his disappointment, but failed miserably.

Hotch and Rossi both helped him stand up, and Spencer pointed to the syringe on the floor. Rossi grabbed it with a gloved hand and bagged it as evidence. The three of them then made the trek upstairs to the ground floor where the sound of the Paramedics arriving in their units echoed in the distance. Spencer begged Hotch to borrow his cell phone, and Hotch, somewhat surprised at his insistence, let him. His fingers frantically dialed the now familiar number, and he was disappointed to be sent to voicemail.

"Hey, it's Spencer. I just wanted to let you know that something happened and I'm heading to the hospital if you want to come and see me. I don't know what room I'll be in, but my phone doesn't work so I can't let you know. I just wanted to keep you in the loop. I have to go, the EMT's are here. Bye."

Spencer handed the phone back to Hotch in time to have a total meltdown just before the EMT's parked. He fell to his knees and started scratching furiously at his face, begging the voices in his head to be quiet. The medics were quick to sedate him before loading him into the back of their truck and whisking him away to the hospital.

Rossi agreed to stay with Reid while Hotch followed up with the rest of the team. Before they took their respective positions, they took a moment to wonder who Spencer had called.

William Reid had been on his lunch break when he finally checked his messages. When he heard Spencer's voice he nearly choked on his sub sandwich. The gears in his head were turning and he knew he had to take action. He told his secretary to cancel the rest of his appointments today on account of a family emergency.

He had barely gotten one arm in his coat when he scrambled to find his car keys and rushed out of the office door.