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A/n in the last chapter Reid told Austin his mother is bipolar. That was a deliberate mistake. The reason for it will be clear soon. Also the information on sensory depravation come from Wikipedia.

Reid put the book he'd just finished on top of the stack he'd read in the last forty-eight hours. He looked up at the sky that was painted on the ceiling.

There's something so wrong with clouds on the ceiling. Who wanted to make a place like this resemble a summer sky? Why? Where have I seen this before?

Pulling his eyes away from the ceiling, he went back to the stack of books he piled up next to the couch. Why are they making me wait to tell me what they want? What is Calloway up to? If I have to sit here and read all day for one more day, I'm going to start freaking out!

He looked down at his watch. It was seven, but whether it was seven am or pm, he wasn't entirely sure. That's not true you know exactly what time it is. You're in denial my friend.

No, I'm not in denial. I am about to die of terminal boredom.

Better then dying from a gunshot, or torture, or starvation…

Stop it!

The key clicked in the lock and opened soundlessly, just like every other door he'd been through in this place. The sound startled him out of these morbid thoughts. The person that entered was one of the three other "team, "members he'd seen. He was tall and thin like Reid. He even had the same eyes, but his hair was darker brown then Reid's. His complexion spoke of Hispanic decent as did the faint Spanish accent. There were lines around his mouth and at his eyes as though he'd seen too much and done too much.

"I'm Agent Ramirez," He put the supper tray on the coffee table, but wore his gun at his hip.

Reid stayed silent, waiting for the agent to speak. Out of the three other agent's this was the only one that had spoken to him in three days.

Agent Ramirez shifted his feet and cleared his throat. His left hand rested on the gun he wore. His eyes darted away from Reid's as the young agent scrutinized him with his large guileless eyes.

"I'll be back for this later." He made to turn for the door.

"You don't want to be here," Reid said.

Ramirez stopped, but he didn't turn around. His shoulders were slumped, "Don't try profiler tricks on me. They won't work."

"I'm not trying to trick you."

Ramirez went to the door and then he turned around. "I would try to trick me if I were in your position."

"Actually, I'm sort of glad to have a vacation. I couldn't see it, but Hotch knew. I didn't want to take any time off. I love my job. It's the only constant thing in my life, or was the only constant thing. You see, a few weeks ago I met this woman… She's really beautiful, and smart, and brave. She even likes me for my nerdy self if you can believe that."

"I don't want to hear about it."

"Sorry, "Reid shrugged his shoulders and puffed out his lips. "I didn't mean to bore you with my life. I just thought we could get to know each other better. We are going to be here for awhile."

"Just what do you know about it?"

"Well, I sort of inferred that when your boss had me locked up in here. What I can't figure out is why he wants me here in the first place. You're profilers just like me. It's our job to catch the bad guys, not contribute to the problem."

"I'm not here to answer your questions."

"I know… I just thought we could have a discussion."

"We're not going to have a discussion Dr. Reid. You're stuck here till my boss determines your usefulness to us is over."

"How can I be useful to anyone when I'm stuck here?"

"Calloway will tell you all about it when he's ready."

"Did you know that prolonged sensory deprivation can result in anxiety, hallucinations, bizarre thoughts, depression, and hostile behavior? Technically, what you're doing to me isn't really sensory deprivation. I mean all I'm really missing out on is talking to other people, or hearing other voices, and music or any other sound you might hear in a day. You come in here three times a day for meals, but otherwise I'm here all alone with nothing to do but read. Since I'm just missing the sense of hearing, all this might do me some good. Did you know that sensory deprivation in small doses can enhance creativity or problem solving? What do you think I might learn about all of you if the only thing I can put my brain to work on, is why I'm here? Normally I don't like to toot my own horn, but you do know that I'm a genius and so I can outthink you all on a normal day."

"Shut up!"

"I'm sorry I'm not trying to be confrontational. I just think that it's important for you to know what I'm capable of if I don't have anything else to distract me."

"You're trying to trick me again."

"No… I'm not trying to do anything. I'm merely stating the facts as I see them."

Ramirez unsnapped his holster and removed his Glock. "I don't want to use this but I will."

"I think you're overreacting," Reid said calmly.

"Perhaps you're not as smart as you think you are Dr. Reid."

"I know that you're watching my every move." Reid pointed out where the pinhole cameras were looking down on them. "What I'm not sure of is if you're listening to me."

"Why should I tell you if we are?"

"You don't have to tell me. You forget I'm one of you. I can tell when someone is lying."

The door opened again and Calloway stepped in with his gun on Reid. "Ramirez, I told you to leave the food, not engage the good doctor in conversation."

"Agent Calloway… Why am I here?" Reid immediately addressed Calloway and ignoring Ramirez.

"I think you've asked that question enough, to all of my people. Get lost Ramirez."

Reid watched the other agent's face go sour. Ramirez slammed out of the room and Calloway approached Reid like he was a un-sub they were hunting. He carried a manila folder in his hand, which he dropped on the table.

"If you're so hot to know why you're here, then take a look at this case file."

"I don't think so."

Calloway cocked his gun and the click was the loudest thing Reid had heard in the last three days. "If you think you can scare me with that gun, you're sadly mistaken. I'm sure you already know that I was tortured with Russian roulette many times in a two day period two years ago. I can assure you that dealing with a man with dis sociative identity disorder that manifested three distinct personalities makes this," He gestured around the room, "seem like a walk in the park."

Calloway put away his gun. "You may be right about that Dr. Reid. I don't want to damage my prize. I'll remind you that I'm aware of your relationship with Jennifer Jareau and her child. I believe that a man you put away five years ago for the murders of four toddlers was released on parole this week."

Reid leaped to his feet. "What kind of game are you playing?"

"I'm not playing games with you Dr. Reid. It's really too bad that a child murderer gets away with an insanity plea. Then his doctors decide that he's rehabilitated in only five years. They should have given him life without parole, instead he got fifteen lousy years because we just can't believe that someone in their right mind could do such a thing to children. We catch them and the courts set them free. Doesn't it just make you sick to your stomach?"

"You make me sick!"

"Now Dr. Reid, name calling is hardly productive. Believe me, it sickens me to think of doing business with that sicko, but if I have to…"

"Whatever you're planning to have me do won't work."

"I think it will. I have great plans for you Dr. Reid. You're going to make our percentage in the bureau skyrocket just like you did for Agent Hotchner."

"What does all of this have to do with Hotch?'

Calloway smiled and it scared Reid more than anything Tobias had done to him. "I'm just trying to reclaim my place in this world." He smiled again and left slamming the door behind him.

---

Austin looked at the clock. It was only eight o'clock, but she was exhausted. Maybe she could catch up with her reading as it was too early to try to go to sleep. She'd only toss and turn if she tried to close her eyes now.

Maybe if I make a hot cup of milk with cinnamon and nutmeg?

That had possibilities as a way to sleep and not think about Spencer and why he hadn't called her in two days. She tried to call him, but he didn't answer his phone.

Was his mother so sick that he couldn't leave her side?

That had to be it; otherwise he'd call her back. He must feel so alone without anyone to help him through this.

She pulled the mug of milk out of the microwave when the ding of the timer went off. After adding nutmeg and cinnamon to the hot milk, she went to her bedroom and picked up her book.

Something is wrong!

No, she was just panicking for nothing. It was a result of to little sleep. Still, when she turned out the light an hour later, her eyelids felt like they were glued to her head. Sleep was a long time coming.