Chapter 11

Dear Mom,

Things have been pretty good here-I've been pleasantly busy. Well, really busy. I was a bit too busy, according to the staff. I ended up in the infirmary for a check up when I had some trouble this morning, and as a result, I am having to rest for the next few days. I'm bored already.

I told myself not to worry you and see how I start? Really, though, I'm fine. A bit bored, though. My room is pleasant, but it's boring when I'm in there for a long time. I'd rather be in the library reading or out on the Green playing chess, or heck, even in the arts center in the middle of a class.

That brings me to a bit of news. The director asked me to teach a class, and I held my first one this morning. A good number of people showed up and I had one girl ambush me for questions afterward! They'll have to do without me for the next few days while I rest up but I'll be back to teaching soon. I plan to finish my first class on mathematics-Mara's signed up for it and she's crazy about math, so I think she's going to insist on finishing! I think the next class I give will be on engineering mathematics, or maybe chemistry. I was writing a lecture before I left home on where the concept of phlogiston came from and how it influenced scientific research, so maybe someone would be interested in hearing about it.

I finished all the classes I told you about in my last letter, and this time I'm signed up for a woodworking class, a papermaking and bookbinding class, and a calligraphy class. Once I've finished that class, my handwriting will be a thing of beauty. If I'd taken a woodworking class when I'd been younger, I probably would have made you a spice rack. I think, though, with this class I'll make you something a tad more useful. A bookshelf, maybe? I've never made paper before and I hope that it won't be too messy. My gut's telling me that it will be. Whatever, I hope the results end up nice.

I promised to tell you about the dance: Mom, it was better than the prom! The theme was "A Midsummer Night's Dream," and everything was fairy-themed! It was held at the lodge and the decorations should have won an award! There were trees with twinkling lights in them, little pools of water with floating candles and flowers, and inside the lodge there were nature sounds, more miniature trees full of lights, a fountain with water and lights (I found it hidden in a corner), and overhead was a CGI screen that mimicked the night sky outside. Every now and then you could spot an animated fairy fly by overhead-it was awesome! I don't think I saw the same fairy twice-whoever set that up put a ton of effort into it! And the food! Everything was forest-themed or fairy-themed! There were tiny chocolate logs filled with chocolate liqueur, meringue mushrooms, little cakes made to look like ponds, little marzipan animals...yeah, they were almost too pretty to eat. ALMOST. Before you ask, yes, I did dance. The people I danced with were forgiving after I'd stepped on their toes, but to be fair, I had warned them beforehand. One of my new friends was a little tipsy, I think, from the chocolate logs, but his friends made sure he got home okay. I got back to my room and fell asleep right away; I was worn out. In case you were wondering, I was given a tuxedo to wear. Everyone said I looked distinguished,but I think I looked like a distinguished penguin.

You're probably wondering what my meals have been like lately. I assure you, I have been eating and not just living on coffee, like you say I do. This morning breakfast was pretty good: I had home fries and a vegetable omelet with cheese and sausage. They have a coffee bar here in the dining hall, but it's nothing compared to the number of teas they have on offer. I'm thinking of trying a new one every day and seeing how long it takes me to sample all of them.

I've made a new friend called James. He's just arrived and when I first met him I thought he was pretty violent an individual, but now I think it was just jet lag making him irritable. We get along pretty well-he was a police officer before he came here and he surprised me by being signed up for my class. He's a pleasure to talk to. We're supposed to get together soon so I can teach him how to play chess. I wonder if he's ever played Othello? I think he'd be good at it.

My room came pre-supplied with bookshelves and fortunately, they are full. They should last me for the couple of days I have to spend resting. If I get really bored, I'll go downstairs to the common room and watch TV. One of the staff is hovering around me to make sure I rest and it's a real challenge not to snap at him that I'm fine. Hopefully, I'll be able to have some visitors. Maybe I can convince my doctor that boredom is hazardous to my health. I won't even have to go to the dining hall since I'm on complete rest-one of the staff is going to bring my meals to me. I kind of want to send a message to the dining hall: "Please send pizza!" but I guess my meals are most likely going to be a surprise for the next few days. Maybe I can work out a kind of signaling system using Morse code? Flags? A carrier pigeon, maybe? I'll have to think about it.

I meant to write a longer letter but the man who brought my lunch for me is waiting to take this letter to the post office for me. I'll write again soon, and in the meantime, take care of yourself, okay? I love you.

Spencer

Hotch looked down at the copy of the letter he held and massaged the back of his neck. Plenty of information in this letter, too, but they were no closer to finding Reid. He was sure that there was a message in it, but he couldn't figure out what. One thing was certain, Reid had certainly added plenty of "marks" to certain letters to show which ones they needed. They'd run decryption on the last one and they were running decryption on this one, but so far, they had nothing.

A knock on the door frame brought him out of his thoughts. "Hi, Prentiss."

"Hi," she said, entering Hotch's office. "Still trying to decipher that letter?"

"I feel as if I stare at it long enough, whatever message Reid's sending will become clear."

"If only it were that easy," she sighed, taking a seat across from him. "I came by to let you know that Rossi heard from his friend. He said that there's been another disappearance that he thinks is connected to Reid's and to the other disappearances that Penelope found. A police officer named James Norwood."

Hotch's brows knit in thought. "A police officer? What's his distinguishing characteristics?"

"Nothing that matches him up with the other victims," she confessed. "He's an excellent cop, active in his community, well-liked by everyone and he just...disappeared. Rossi said that his friend is adamant that the same guys who kidnapped Reid took Officer Norwood."

"What makes him so sure?"

She smiled. "Rossi says his friend is meticulous about keeping records of certain things. They're on their way."

"I'm amazed a guy like that would keep records," Hotch admitted. "Wouldn't he be afraid of the government using them against him?"

She shrugged. "No idea, but he says they're on the way. How are you holding up?"

"I feel like I have Frankenstein's monster tap-dancing on my brain," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I keep waiting for the epiphany that'll help us find Reid."

"Yeah, we're all hoping for similar epiphanies ourselves." She looked her boss up and down. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Who keeps track of things like that?" Aaron wondered. "I promise; I'll catch a nap."

Emily nodded. "Okay. I'll let Penelope know that you promised."

Hotch cut his eyes at Emily. "She's going to hound me until I actually take one, isn't she?"

"You know her so well."

"She said she was doing some things," Hotch said, changing the subject. "Any news?"

"None that she's shared. I stopped in her office about a half-hour ago to ask her if she wanted any dinner but she just grumbled something about being interrupted and tossed a pen at me. I took the hint and left."

Hotch nodded, remembering how savage their analyst could get when she was on a mission. Then, Emily's words sank in. "Dinner? When was lunch?"

"About five hours ago now," she said, sounding as if she were trying to hold onto her patience. "I stopped in at lunchtime to see if you wanted anything, but you're almost as bad as Penelope. When I told you that lunch was here earlier, you just sort of grunted and didn't look up. I gave up after the third try. You've got to be hungry by now. Are you?"

As if to mock him, his stomach roared at him and shook his backbone. "Um, yes. What's for dinner?"

"We had one of the hometown restaurants deliver," she told him, smiling when he left his chair. "We've got roast beef, mashed potatoes, rolls, green peas, carrots, sweet tea, and lemon pound cake for dessert. You'd better hurry before we eat it all. Derek's already gone back for seconds."

His stomach complained again and Hotch gave in to the inevitable. He joined the rest of his team in the conference room and fixed himself a plate, listening to them talk and batting theories back and forth.

"How many peninsulas can there be with the stuff Reid described?" Derek wondered, digging into a slice of cake.

"Apparently too many for us to check them one by one," J.J. stated, sipping tea. "We have to narrow them down some way."

Penelope wandered in then, clutching a stack of stapled papers and looking worse than Aaron had ever seen her look. She had dark circles under her eyes, her hair was...well, everywhere, and she looked as if life had put her through the wringer and then some. She was almost to the table when she stumbled and dropped her papers. The person closest to her, Derek, got up and started to help her put them back in order. Once they were arranged she started to stand up, but when her eyes were level with the table she let out a screech and dropped the papers again.

"Baby Girl?" Derek said, sounding alarmed. "What's the matter?"

"Ohmigosh!" Penelope cried, reaching out and snatching a paper off the table. "He drew us a map!"

"What?" Emily asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"A map!" Penelope repeated loudly, waving the paper around. "A map! He drew us a map!"

She stopped and looked around the room. "Why is everybody staring at me as if I'm crazy?! I'm telling you, Reid drew us a map in his first letter!"

"We've all been staring at that thing since Diana gave it to us," Derek reminded her. "I've yet to see any map."

"That's because we weren't looking at it the right way!" she said, practically bouncing in her excitement. "I saw it when I was standing up. You can't look directly, you have to look obliquely at the letter and the image becomes clear!" So saying, she held the paper close to Morgan's eye level and tilted it slowly.

"Holy crap," Derek grasped when he saw what she was talking about. "Holy crap! I see it!"

People crowded around immediately to take a look. Hotch watched as she tilted the letter for him and the tails and dashes Reid had included in his handwriting coalesced into an actual map, showing a peninsula, with buildings and paths and a park...how had Reid managed this? "Incredible," Aaron said at last. "Penelope, do you think you can manipulate this in the computer and use any resulting images to scan and search for matches?"

"'Can I do it?' he asks," Penelope scoffs. "If I can't, then I'd like you to find someone who could! I'll be in my office!"

Hotch watched her go, then remembered that she had yet to eat anything. Feeling a sense of hope burgeoning in his chest, Aaron fixed his tech analyst a plate and took it down to her office for her. She was busily typing away at her keyboard and scanning the code on her monitor. Aaron left the plate on the corner of her desk and headed back to rejoin the rest of his team.

They had a lead.

Spencer leaned back into his pillows and sighed. He was still "on rest" as it was called, and he absolutely hated it. He was so bored! He'd read everything in his room, all the books in the common room, and he was allowed to have visitors, but only fifteen minutes at a time. For some reason that he really didn't understand, any person "on rest" had a member of security with them to make sure they didn't overdo. Sometimes, out of sheer boredom, he took naps, but they never lasted very long. He'd been cleared for light activity, but whenever he went to the Green Keller was there to keep an eye on him. That was hardly relaxing, so usually after a half-hour or so he would give up and head back to his room. What he really wanted to do was spend a couple of hours in the library, but Keller had put the kibosh on that idea when Reid suggested it.

A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. "Come in."

Sean opened the door. "Hi, Reid. How are you?"

"Perishing for company," Reid said happily, sitting up. "It's great to see you!"

"We all miss you," Sean admitted, taking a seat in the chair near Reid's bed. "How much longer do you have to rest?"

"Dr. White examined me yesterday; he said at least another day. He doesn't realize that I'm bored out of my skull."

Sean grinned at him. "Well, I brought you something that might help with the boredom." He handed Reid a cloth shopping bag. "Here you go. Open it up and take a look."

Reid returned Sean's smile and opened the bag. Inside it was a 3,000 piece jigsaw puzzle, four puzzle books, some magazines, and three brain teaser toys. "I see someone went shopping."

"I had so many credits built up that I decided to splurge," Sean said with a shrug. "Call it a care package. There's this, too."

Inside that bag were books from the library. "Yes!" Reid exclaimed, ready to hug Sean. "This is awesome!"

"Glad I could help," Sean said, leaning forward so he was close to Reid. "I came to tell you something."

Reid leaned forward as well and lowered his voice. "What is it?"

"James has disappeared."

Reid felt his heart beat double-time for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"I think he's taken it into his head to try getting out of here. The security staff are running around and trying to look as if they're not looking for him, but he's gone for sure. Usually when the Director doles out punishment it's the recently arrived who have to bear it, so please, be careful, okay?"

Reid nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Have you seen anything to make you think that...well, that they might come after me?"

"No, but then, I wouldn't. We never see it coming until after someone's been put in isolation."

Reid fought down a shiver. "I see. I'll keep my eyes and ears open."

Sean clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll do the same. I'd better go before your watch dog gets snarly at how long I'm taking."

"I don't see why he does," Reid admitted. "It's not like I'm not resting."

"Ten to one, in his mind, resting is resting and talking is talking and the two cannot coexist."

"You're most likely right."

Sean left after wishing Reid a speedy recovery and Reid immediately grabbed the bag of books and started looking them over. He'd finished all the books in his room and the few in the common room and re-reading them just seemed like an exercise in futility and boredom. He'd missed having new reading material since finishing all the books he had at his disposal.

The past few days had been strange for him. He spent most of his time either curled up on his bed or on the sofa or in one of the chairs, reading. When he finished his books, he started over again, just to keep his mind occupied. When he was really bored, he went downstairs to the common room and turned on the television. There were plenty of channels and it was nice to channel surf. He had switched on the major news channels, just to see if there was anything pertaining to his situation, but there was nothing. It was likely that a media-blackout had been enacted for security purposes. The FBI could be a bit...touchy...about someone messing with their agents. He was thankful for such a thing, really. God knew that he didn't want anyone who knew his mother seeing it and then stopping by to talk to her about it. She didn't need that kind of upsetting conversation in her life.

Whenever he could, he would watch documentaries, historical series, and similar shows so he could keep his mind engaged and active. One surprising thing was that he was enjoying watching cooking shows. He watched The Great British Baking Show and found himself cheering the competitors on and feeling overawed at the items they managed to create. At one point he took mental notes on a Genoise cake. He'd really enjoyed the one he'd had during his last meal with the Director and he wanted to try re-recreating it himself.

If he wasn't reading or watching television, he was in his room, writing in the journal he'd made in his first bookbinding class. He would fill pages each time he wrote, packing the book with his thoughts about home and his friends, his mom, and his situation. He was finally unleashing every single feeling he'd kept firmly tamped down all this time, and sometimes his writing sessions would end in tears, but he always wiped his face clean, blew his nose, and went back to writing.

It helped. It was amazing how much it helped. He'd been so scared and so mind-numbingly horrified about his situation and the fact that yes, he had been kidnapped and was being held prisoner in a place that made no sense that he hadn't allowed himself to feel much of what was happening when it was actually happening. Now, he felt as if he could see things with much clearer eyes. He'd been doing a great deal of thinking since he started writing, and using the skills he'd learned at the BAU, he'd begun considering his situation as a profiler, rather than as a victim, and some interesting ideas had surfaced.

Motive-wise, very little the Director had done had made sense. How the campus was run, however, made a great deal of sense. The Director needed to keep his prisoners' morale up, so he insisted on social interaction and on their participating in activities. Being social and doing and learning new things had been proven to have positive effects on mental well-being. He'd read plenty of studies on the same topic when they'd been published. Another beneficial thing had been building a campus that was inviting and enticed people outside. There were always people in the Green and the hiking and walking paths were always being used. The grounds were designed to encourage people to spend time outside and enjoy their surroundings. Again, there were plenty of studies on the effects of sunlight and the outdoors on mental and physical health. Providing them with plenty of choices in activities, meals, and the chance to shop on their own in the exchange allowed them to feel as if they had choices in their lives, which again, was beneficial for mental well-being. They were illusive choices, but choices all the same. Housing them in communal cottages and making meals mandatory would ensure that they would have plenty of socialization outside of activities. Requiring the first three months to be nothing but fun activities and not in their preferred area of research made them all too eager to start working when a project was offered.

That brought Reid back to the question of the projects that the prisoners worked on. One of the most lucrative things in business was the Next Big Idea or something that was Cutting Edge. It was fully probable that the Director was holding them all there so he could have his own top of the line Research and Development team. If anyone had told him about this place and the situation all of the residents were facing, he would have said that it sounded like quite the stretch...if he hadn't been there and living it for himself, however. It was like living in a sci-fi television show, but the only problem was that no one ever said "Cut!" Just like he'd covered in hundreds of cases, the number one motive in kidnapping was financial gain. This new scenario that Reid had constructed in his mind fit the bill.

The kindness, though...there was something more to it. Anyone could hold people prisoner and force them to work; it was done all the time in human trafficking. Most human traffickers and people handlers wouldn't waste the time, money, or effort to be kind to their prisoners, though. The threat of violence and psychological manipulation were more effective in making sure that prisoners did not try to escape. No, in bringing them and holding them here and being so kind and making sure they were happy and healthy, the Director was fulfilling some deep psychological need of his own.

He'd been turning these ideas over in his mind ever since he'd first worked them out. All of them made so much sense that he was amazed he hadn't come up with them sooner. Reid reminded himself that being too close to a problem made it difficult to gain perspective on said problem, but the thought still rankled.

When he wasn't writing or thinking, Reid was spending time outside on his balcony people-watching. He could see other residents going about his business and whenever someone Reid knew passed by and saw him, they would wave. The staff who brought him his meals would take a minute or two to chat with him, thank goodness, so his meal times were pleasant. He didn't get to choose what he ate, though, which sucked. Still, the food was good. That afternoon for lunch he'd had loaded baked-potato soup, a French dip sandwich, and strawberry shortcake for dessert. All the meals were like that: heavy on the comfort food. The staff probably felt bad that he was stuck in his room and they were trying to make it up to him.

He curled up on his bed with a book and started reading. He'd read O Pioneers! years ago and had enjoyed reading about Alexandra Bergson and her struggle to make a success of the farm her father had left the family when he died. He especially liked the description of Crazy Ivar, the slightly strange old man who seemed to innately understand animals.

He was on the last page when one of the staff arrived with his dinner tray. Reid felt his mouth water as soon as the aroma of fried chicken and macaroni and cheese hit him. Along with that were buttered green peas, a whole wheat roll with apple butter and cinnamon, and a slice of butterscotch cake with buttercream icing.

"Is the kitchen trying to fatten me up or something?" Reid joked when he saw his tray.

"Nah," Rob said, handing Reid the napkin that held his cutlery. "This is the special, bring-some-joy-to-Reid's-sickbed menu."

"It's hardly a sickbed," Reid protested. "It's more like a bored-bed."

Rob clapped him on the shoulder much like Sean had done. "Well, be glad that it's not gonna last much longer. Someone'll be back later for your tray. Enjoy your dinner."

"Gladly," Reid said, unrolling the napkin and placing it on his lap. "Thanks for bringing it for me."

"You're welcome."

Reid had enjoyed every bite of his dinner and sat on his balcony in his hammock afterward, sipping at a hot cup of tea he'd made in the kitchenette downstairs. He watched the sunset for as long as he could before he headed inside and prepared for bed. He finished O Pioneers! and then picked up A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. He'd reached the description of Francie's early school days when he found himself unable to keep his eyes open. He fell asleep with the light still on.

The sound of his door opening jerked him awake and he found all four members of WBKJ in his room. They were already pulling the blankets off him when he woke up fully and sat up. "What? What's the matter?"

"You need to come with us," Bell said, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet.

"Why?" Reid demanded, feeling his stomach sink. This was not good.

"You'll know why once we're there. You can either walk out with us, or we can carry you out, but either way, you're going."

There was nothing he could do; there were four of them and one of him and he was still so, so tired. He was tired from being a prisoner and he was tired from being stressed out and he didn't feel as if he had any more fight in him. "Should I get dressed? Pack a bag?"

"You'll be going back to bed once we get there," Keller told him. "You won't need anything."

Reid pulled on his slippers and robe and allowed them to escort him outside. When he saw the black SUV waiting for them, his last kidnapping reared up in his mind and panic hit. He jerked away and tried to run and as soon as they caught him, he started screaming.

"No! Let go! I don't want to go with you! Leave me alone! I can't do this again!"

Lights started coming on in the cottages as the Evil Four wrestled him into the car. He kept fighting as they pinned him in his seat and fastened the belt and as soon as they pulled away Reid couldn't stop himself from crying. Again. He could hear Bell and Wallace trying to reassure him, but he didn't have any patience for them. Nothing they said could make him feel any better about this.

They drove to the Director's house, pulled him out of the car, up the stairs, and inside. Through the foyer, up some stairs, and into a room. They pushed him down to sit on a bed and when they left, he heard the door lock behind them. That sound made him break again, and he dropped to lie down on the bed, crying as if he hadn't cried at all since he'd been born. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and he slept.

A/N: As you can see, I'm still in the plot bunny's grasp. Someone dangle a carrot in front of his nose so I can get a little peace, please.