Chapter one: no dime, no dozen

'folie à deux', more commonly known as Shared Psychotic Disorder, is a rare disorder where a specific delusion is shared between two or more people in a close relationship.

Usually, the inducer (primary) has a psychotic disorder, influencing one other nonpsychotic individual or more (induced, secondary) with their delusions, and delusional belief. More commonly seen between a pair of people, it is pretty rare to find such a case in a group of people. But not impossible.

Most common cases of Shared Psychotic Disorder with over two individuals are families, which would then be referred to as 'folie à famille.'

There are quite a few versions of Shared Psychotic Disorder actually, but none can come quite close to describing the current situation on their hands.

"Is the kid still not talking?" Reid shakes his head mutely, gaze firmly attached to the shifting, grimy boy sitting stiffly inside interrogation room Seven.

It has been a fruitless six hours since the group of thirteen were brought into custody after a local called in about a group of suspicious, grimy, blood covered individuals after they had been threatened. Considering the team was already in Georgia after finishing up their latest case, it was a quick ride to the county sheriff's office, and here they are, six hours in and still struggling to form a definitive profile on the group, whom he suspects to be suffering from an extreme version of Shared Psychotic Disorder. Though it was hard to initially narrow down who the primary, or primaries, in this case as none of the subjects were talking. Until one did.

"Where is my boy?"

The grizzled, stone cold gazed man then immediately became their Subject One. 'The Boy' or kid as Morgan has become fond of referring to him as, became their Subject Two.

Nobody in the team had been in interrogation room five when Subject One had spoken, and the deputy who had been watching the subject behind the one way glass was quick to collect what members of the team he could find as soon as possible. The deputy described Subject One's voice as low intoned and authoritative, the deputy seemingly rather unsettled as he described the man's unblinking expression towards the glass, 'as if he was starin' right at me.'

It was easy for those who had entered the room, he, Morgan, Hotch, and Gideon, to tell that upon first sight of the man they had found their primary, or at least one of their primary's.

"The way he holds himself, it makes me almost think he has some sort of law enforcement background. Did he say anything else?" Morgan turns towards the deputy, who shakes his head, staring at Subject One with a lot more intrigue than unsettlement now that they were also present in the room.

"No sir. Just him asking for his boy. I take it that's the kid we found with 'em?"

"We can only assume so." Gideon is the closest to the glass, staring head on towards Subject One's occasional, waiting glance towards the glass, unflinchingly. "Has the kid said anything yet?"

"Not a word." Reid swallows, a frown having formed on his face around the first time he saw the kid which hasn't really left since. "We tried to send in JJ to offer for somebody to take a look at his bandaged eye, but he continually refused non verbally."

"What do you think Dr. Reid?"

"I think we have an extreme case of Shared Psychotic Disorder here. I've never heard of such a large group being affected before however, outside of cults."

"Do you think this is some sort of wilderness cult?" Morgan is staring, invested in this case as every case they are when there are children involved. "Despite the blood we found on them, there have been no bodies found according to the grid searches we made in the area where they were found. And given we haven't been able to get close enough to test any of it, it could be anyone's guess whose blood they're all soaked in. It'll take a few more hours until the lab test results come back on the weapons we found on them."

Reid considers this group in the framework of cultist behavior, but ultimately shakes his head. "It's hard to say right now. While there are some hints towards this being a cult, it's just impossible to tell right now without any of them speaking up, which in itself could be a sign of a cult behavior however."

"I know you're watching me. Where is, my boy?" Subject One once again is staring hard at them, and he knows it. His drawl is slow, purposeful with a clear underlining threat. Morgan narrows his eyes along with Hotch.

Hotch shakes his head, unfolding his arms. "He's extremely defensive, with a presumed law enforcement background, and yet somehow he has come to greatly distrust law enforcement, or any position of authority in general, to such an extreme extent he felt the need to go completely off the grid. He clearly knows enough to train the rest of them to keep quiet. None of them are speaking but he's willing to break the silence for the location of what we can presume to be his child. Unless the kid is just another secondary he has adopted into the delusion."

"We just need to figure out what that particular delusion they're living out right now is." Morgan seems to be getting a little frustrated, but they all know better than to walk into an interrogation empty handed. "I say we try again with the kid. That eye is a huge concern, who knows what kind of infection he could be harboring under that old bandage. I doubt they've had any access to any decent medical supplies staying out in the woods for god knows how long."

Gideon straightens slightly, looking back at them and it doesn't take long for the rest of them to catch on to what he suddenly thought of. "I think I can get him to talk."

Hotch nods without barely a second of thought. "Take Reid with you."

"No, no, it'll be better if I just cut to the chase. Like you said, he clearly has some sort of law enforcement background, we can assume he knows the good cop bad cop routine by now." He's already briskly walking out of the viewing room, and it's not a moment later that the interrogation room five door swings open and Subject One leans back into his seat, immediately assessing Gideon with a critical, slightly narrowing unmoving eye.

Reid pulls out his phone, clicking one of the few numbers he keeps on speed dial, not removing his gaze from the glass. He doesn't have to wait longer than a second before his call is picked up.

"Now do my ears and eyes deceive me, or have I been summoned by a sweet prince?"

Reid smiles slightly, as always glad for the woman's demeanor. "Garcia, can you send us a list of all former law enforcement in the past say, five years in Georgia? Specifically focusing on those of a higher authority, say a sheriff. We are also looking for those who have quit and or been let go within the past five or so years."

"Is the Sky blue? I'm right on it sweet cheeks, but it's quite a bit of ground to cover surprisingly. I'll report back to you as soon as I narrow this down to your liking, my liege."

"Thanks Garcia." He snaps his phone shut, sliding it into his back pocket as Hotch nods.

"Good thinking Reid."

Gideon approaches the table with a no nonsense attitude, sliding the opposing chair out carelessly and scraping it along the floor, before purposely setting himself down and scooting towards the table. Subject One makes no outward reaction other than a subtly twitching of his cheek.

"You the bad cop?" Hotch smiles ever so slightly at that, because of course Gideon had to have been proven right immediately. The southern drawl is a signifier that Subject One is also a Georgian local, his words are dragged out purposefully, saying 'bad cop' with not so subtle mockery.

"No. But does that really matter? You keep asking about this boy, 'your boy', can I ask who you're talking about exactly?"

"You know who I am talking about." The subject seems well aware of interrogation techniques, being the most unfazed of the group faced with the harsh fluorescent and line of questioning. Which only reaffirms Reid's decision to search into former sheriffs or those higher up in the chain of command. The subject remains as relaxed in his seat as one who's been off the grid for assumedly years can be, but his tone speaks his message clearly enough. He is not to be messed with right now, especially not in regards to the kid.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right, I do know exactly who you are talking about," Gideon sighs a little through his nose, smiling a little and leaning back slightly in his seat, eyeballing Subject One's disposition. "But the thing I'm confused about is why the hell you think we should tell you anything, for all we know you kidnapped that kid and brought him along for the muddy ride."

Another muscle twitches in the subject's face, but as expected he doesn't rise to the bait, only narrowing his gaze onto Gideon and tilting his head to the side, ever so slightly, deliberately. Reid suddenly swallows, feeling his throat dry a little, a certain, yolk sensation cascading down his spine. That look on the man's face..

Reid has come across a great many bad men during his time in the FBI, it takes only a split moment for him now to recognize the face of a predator- and he hates to admit to himself but for a short second there, he had genuinely felt like prey, even through the glass. A short glance in Morgan and Hotch's direction shows he is not the only one feeling unsettled at this display and almost unconscious change in the subjects demeanor, if Morgan's clenched jaw and tightly crossed arms was anything to infer upon. Hotch as always is a wall of steel nerve however, and it is enough to reset Reid's shoulders and shake off the uncomfortable feeling.

"Now what's that look for? I thought you wanted to know about 'your boy'?" Reid can't honestly tell how Gideon is feeling about the subject now as his back is turned, but the man has never been one to shy away from an intimidating look, his cajoling tone a perfect indication to that. "This can't only go one way here, how about this. You tell me your name, just your name, and I'll tell you where 'your boy' is, huh? How does that sound to you, tough guy?"

The subject licks his lips, gaze briefly flickering towards the glass. His face is a calculated, grime and blood flaked mask. The face of the man who's been through, most likely done, the worst. Reid frowns, staring intently as the subject leans in ever so slightly, tilting his head down to give Gideon an assessing, critical stare down through his greasy, sweat licked bangs.

"Just'a name huh? And what's stoppin' you from walking right out of here soon as you get whatchu' want?" The subject jerks his head pointedly towards the door, his handcuffed fists have yet to unclench since he first sat down. Reid would almost think he's been hiding something if he didn't know the man had been thoroughly searched upon his arrest. Gideon leans back in his seat, expression unclear at this angle.

"Not very trustworthy are you? It's fine, I get that," Gideon shrugs, almost carelessly, raising his palms towards the ceiling. "You don't trust law enforcement. It's clear in your disposition that we aren't going to be getting anywhere anytime soon. The same can be said for the rest of your little group interestingly enough, well, except for 'your boy'. Oh, he's been talking alright. He's been talking a lot."

"Is that really the wisest choice?" Morgan looks concerned about the possibility of this interrogation ending just as it only really began. They all silently noted that the man made no inclination to deny that they are in fact 'his' little group. None of them are remotely surprised at this point. "That's a risky bluff, considering how the kid hasn't peeped a single word."

"Has he now?" The subject doesn't seem fazed in the slightest, although his gaze does narrow at presumedly the phrasing of Gideon's words, or the presumption that the kid has been talking to them.

"Oh, you look surprised. Are you really surprised the kid started blabbing first? I guess you haven't quite finished training him yet, have you?" When the subject doesn't respond, only once again tilting his head slightly, Gideon grins a little sharply, leaning in himself and pacing his forearms onto the table with practiced ease. The subject watches the shift with his eyes, unmoved. "Nah, nah, 'course you haven't. You don't like them to be too hardened at first, where's the fun in that? Wouldn't want to crush his innocence too soon would you?"

"You don't have a clue what you're talking about," And there's that reaction Gideon's been digging for, although outwardly the subject does not move his body, his gaze does narrow, clearly catching on to what Gideon is trying to insinuate. Interesting. "I've never hurt him, if that's what you're trying to imply, detective."

"Really? Because that's not what he's been saying. Tell me, how did he hurt his eye real bad then? Why haven't you taken him to a hospital, a local doctor, shit, a random man you met at the side of the road, for some help hm? What's got you avoiding everything and everyone?"

Gideon said something wrong, or somehow clued into his bluff because the expression on the subject's face loses its miniature guard, resettling into that unflinching, calm composure.

"He hasn't said nothing."

Gideon isn't ready yet to release their seemingly only leverage over the subject right now, "Yeah. Are you really so confident about that? Why is that?"

The man smirks slightly, leaning back into his seat, not saying a word for a moment or two. Until, losing his slight humored expression. "Enough of the shit. Where is he?"

"Ah ah, you see, I still never got that name of yours, partner." No reaction. "C'mon, what's a little name in comparison to knowing your boy is safe? I'm really asking for so little right now. You hiding from something? What are you so desperately hiding from that you can't even give us a name huh?"

The subject grinds his teeth, jaw twitching. His posture doesn't shift.

"Oh come on, don't clam up on me now. Just two simple words, and I'll let you know where your boy is, and we can move on."

A ringing distracts him from watching the intense scene, and Reid reluctantly drags his eyes away for a moment to accept the call. "What did you find?"

"A bunch of ex-law enforcement, sheriffs and all, I even extended the search to the past ten years and included the rest of the gang, because I am awesome like that. Only, sorry boo but none of them line up with the photos you sent me of the group you have in custody." Reid narrows his eyes, staring back at the subject staring solidly at Gideon.

"Their appearance would be dramatically different to what it would be before they went off the grid. Younger, shaven perhaps."

"Yeah, no, sorry babes, that's just not possible, none of these faces even remotely matchup. Trust me, I ran my face analysis program thrice over. Nope, natta, zilch. It's a bit freaky, honestly."

Slightly discouraging, but not nearly an end game. "Alright, thank you anyway. We'll keep you updated."

"You better!"

The line ends and Reid sighs, shaking his head at both Morgan and Hotch's questioning look.

"She couldn't find him? Damn. So maybe he's not law enforcement. I could see him as some type of ex-military."

"She couldn't find any of them, anywhere. She ran their faces through her facial analysis program, but she couldn't find a single one. If I didn't know any better I'd say these people never existed before we found them, at least, that's what they had been going for in burning themselves off the map." Reid furrows his brow more the longer he speaks. It's very rare, almost unheard of for Garcia to not be able to find some kind of paper trail on their unsubs, and not only is it one person this time around, but thirteen?

Morgan frowns at that, shaking his head. "That still doesn't explain why now? Why suddenly get so careless and threaten a local? It doesn't make any sense."

"Something in their delusion could have forced them to make their way out of hiding, if they thought that their cover had been already blown, or that their base camp was no longer secure, they would pack up and look for another place to set camp." Hotch watches intently as the subject licks his lip and opens his mouth.

"Rick Grimes." It's almost mocking, a slightly challenging look shrouding his bloody, bearded face. "There you have it."

Morgan is already pulling out his phone and stepping out of the room. "Hey baby girl, I need you to run a name through-"

"You look worried. What's on your mind?"

Reid looks over at Hotch at his question as the door shuts behind Morgan, before glancing back into the interrogation room, where Gideon is once again leaning back into his chair.

"It's just, Morgan was right. Why be so careless now? Even if what you said is true to their case, why would they suddenly confront a local, and threaten them at that too? Surely they knew they would be caught because of that, especially with his knowledge on law enforcement."

Hotch nods, clearly agreeing with his thought process. "It looks like we have a witness to question."

"Well? You gonna keep up your side of the bargain or what ?" Rick Grimes tilts his head in challenge, a warning clear in his eyes.

"He's two interrogation rooms down from you." With that final statement Gideon stands and exits the room, firmly shutting the door behind him.