If there were two words to accurately describe prison then boredom would be at the top of the list, second only to fear.

"Gin."

Boredom was winning today. Reid pretended to pout as he laid down his own mismatched cards. It wasn't natural for him to intentionally lose, but it was safer than his cellmate - who easily outweighed him by 50 pounds - thinking he was a cheater. He shuffled the deck. "Best out of three?"

His cellmate - Paul Peterson - shrugged. "Not like you got anything decent to trade. I've already got enough stamps."

There were times when Reid was tempted to use his commissary money. It didn't seem right to let the generosity of his friends go to waste, but then again people couldn't take what he didn't have. One less thing to cause a fight. Besides, prison food wasn't that disgusting - hospital food was worse and he'd survived on that before.

"When do you think they're going to lift the lockdown?" Three days holed up with this virtual stranger was three too many. He was tempted to ask what the man was in for, but knew he'd be in hot water if the question was turned on him. No one wanted to be cellmates with a man accused of a double homicide.

"As long as it takes for the guards to find what they're looking for."

"What exactly would that be?"

"I don't know. You tell me...Officer Reid."

Reid did a double-take, his eyes wide. "Sorry?"

"You heard." Paul smirked. "Only four types of people try to P.C. up with a non-lethal pre-emptive attack on day one. Based on your photos of your godsons taped to the wall of your bunk, I'm going to guess that you're not inclined to hurt kids. You don't exactly seem to have a way with women based on how you treat the mother of your baby -"

"She's not - !"

"I know, I know," Paul soothed his now distraught cellmate, "It's all on Wilkins, right? The point is, you hate her and yet she doesn't seem to be afraid of you. So I doubt you've abused her. You don't have any gang tattoos. So if you're not a child abuser and you're not a wife-beater, and you're not a gang drop out, there's only one other class of inmate who would try to P.C. up on day one. You were a cop on the outside." It wasn't a question.

Reid said nothing, choosing instead to pick up another card. Silence, though, spoke volumes all on its own...almost as much as his visibly shaking hand. Damn, what had Gideon told Max Ryan about unsubs? Oh come on, we all know they're the best profilers. They admire each others' work. What would Gideon's advice be right now, anyway?

Paul laughed. "Relax, man. I'm on short-time. I just want to pay my debts and get the hell out of here. I don't want any trouble."

Reid breathed a long sigh of relief "Cheers to that!" He raised a plastic cup of apple juice in a mock toast.

"To not causing each other any trouble." Paul knocked his own cup to Reid's then downed the contents in one big gulp. "Might as well tell you, it's not exactly a secret. I was a lifer. Got my sentence commuted down to 20 years. 16 years of credit for time served. Overnight, I was suddenly down to four years and that was over a year ago. My lawyer put in for a security classification revision. I'm hoping to get into a minimum which means no write-ups allowed on my record for the next six months."

"I won't cause you any trouble," Reid assured him. "Gin."

"Good game." He picked up the cards and put them back in his side of the cupboard, sealing it with a swipe of the combination lock. "So the woman who is not -"

"She won't be a problem for you."

"For your sake, I hope she isn't."

There was only one reason why a guard would pick up an inmate from his cell after dinner, during lockdown. So he wasn't too surprised to see Fiona in the cold, dull, visitation room. He was, however, not prepared to see - "Hotch?" His mouth fell open as the cuffs were removed. "What - how?" It was too dangerous! How could he leave Witness Protection? Leave Jack?

The guard left and Hotch just shook his head, not wanting to believe his eyes. "Reid, you've gotten into some pretty big holes, but this?" He put down the file he'd be reading. "Garcia called me last night. I'm not in the Program anymore, haven't been for almost a month."

"So Scratch isn't a threat anymore?" That didn't make any sense. According to the profile, Scratch would never stop killing unless...

"He's dead." Hotch confirmed. "One of Steven Walker's associates spotted him in Tegucigalpa. So he rejoined the BAP and they got him in Honduras."

"That's great." In another life, this would have called for a celebratory night out...but there was business to attend to. To that point, what was Hotch doing here - ?

"It is," Hotch agreed."

"So you're back on the team?"

Hotch shook his head. "No, Jack needs me more than the Bureau. I know my law experience is in prosecution, not defense, but if you want the extra help - pro bono, I -"

"Yes!"

"You're not even going to ask him about the case?" Fiona shook her head. A defense lawyer always spoke to the client about the case before an agreement.

"I've known Reid for 14 years, he's not a killer or a rapist."

She was going to have to talk to the team again about sharing unauthorized information. "Would you like to hear some good news for a change?"

"I'm listening." Good news sounded like a dream come true.

Hotch took a stack of rubber banded photocopied papers out of his briefcase. "Alvez got Shaw out of Milan for you by offering him a deal. In exchange for incriminating evidence on Joel Matthews, he got a transfer to FCI Cumberland in Maryland, three hours from D.C., but only one hour from his son. The bad news -"

Of course there was bad news, too.

"- is that Matthews has gone off the grid. Cleaned out his bank account, his apartment was vacant when the team went to question him."

"So he's running." Look of a guilty man if there ever was one.

"We've issued a subpoena," Fiona added. "So when he doesn't show to Court at least there will be a valid reason to arrest him when he shows his face again."

Who knew how long that could be? "Valid reason - what about this?" Reid gestured to the stack of papers. Assuming it was his copy to keep, he would be pouring over it all day and night even if it only took a minute to read.

"That only contained enough evidence for Bureau termination - not arrest. The team was going to use it as leverage against him: 'tell us what you know about Cat and Lindsey and we won't turn you in'."

"Too late for that now."

"Speaking of Cat and Lindsey -"

Reid listened with undivided attention, sucked into the tale that seemed - impossible. "Wait, they're sisters?"

"Half-sisters," Fiona corrected. "Both daughters of Daniel Adams but different mothers."

"So how - ?" How could he gain Cat's trust by reuniting her with her father whom she hated but Lindsey loved? He groaned. This kept getting more and more twisted. Oh dear God. "Do they know?"

"Not yet. I'm going to let Jack break that to them. The girls - Lindsey or Katelyn, to use her proper name - might be more willing to listen to him than us."

"So now we need Jack's help too?" He needed the help of an entire family of psychopaths. "Great."

*** Yes, chapters 12-26 are gone. They are being rewritten. I changed some ideas midway through the story that I should not have so I'm returning it to my original plot line. Since I finally has surgery to help me breathe and I can sleep, my creative brain is making a comeback.