Hello all you happy readers! I hope the layout of this chapter isn't hard to follow...

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. I'd think by now we'd all get that.

Reid stared up at the ceiling above the bed where he lay.

It's been three days, he thought to himself as he stared at a small crack that worked its way across from the hanging light fixture towards the space above the headboard. He would have gotten up, but the shackle around his left wrist kept him in his current position. The other end of the chain was attached to the brass bars making up the headboard.

He turned his head towards the window. The familiar sight of crumbling buildings assaulted his warm eyes.

He recalled the first night he'd spent in this bed; how after his "performance" for his insane captor he'd had to "prove" himself to her. Reid had spent much of the next day in the bathroom, scrubbing the scent of Sienna off of his skin and trying hard to keep down the little he had eaten.

If only, if only, Reid thought. If only I could convince her I wasn't trying to run off…if only I could get inside that completely twisted brain of hers…if only there were some way, any way, to get a message out…

But then, that's the reason you're chained to the bed, now isn't it, genius? The admonishment, though self-ascribed, made Reid scowl. Seems Morgan and Emily were right about one thing—the superior intellect line upstairs must have been a bypass that skipped the common sense one…

And yet, those matches could have done the trick…

On the third day of his captivity, Reid had decided to try something just this side of desperate. The previous day, after he finally left the bathroom, he spent what little time he had left to himself incessantly searching every room of the "apartment" looking for the tiny cameras. It bothered him that he was being watched, just as he had been in that dark oubliette in Michigan, and not necessarily by his friends and colleagues.

I am not about to become the freak show attraction for this woman, he had thought angrily. Not this time.

The search proved fruitless, but Reid did manage to come across one valuable weapon during his scavenging—a small book of matches. Tucking the tiny firestarters into his pocket, he tried to act a combination of bored and nonchalant when he heard the sound of the lock being thrown in the front door.

"Honey, I'm home," a voice had called out. It was one that made the young agent wince.

"In here."

It sickened him, the thought of having to play along, but this time there wasn't a choice. He thought of his earlier "punishment" in the parquet-floored room and felt his stomach turn into a myriad of knots.

I won't become her 'whipping boy,' he decided. Which means I'm going to have to play along until I can find a way to get out of this nightmare…

"So what were you up to today?" Sienna had asked, lazily throwing a few things into a frying pan. "I should really start leaving a list of things to do for you, so something at least gets done…"

"Those windows…they could use a cleaning," Reid had said, his voice faltering just a little. It was becoming harder to 'pretend' that he was happy living like a caged animal with a psychotic 'keeper.'

At least Koko the gorilla gets to see other people and socialize, he'd thought. All I get is the crazy woman.

"You think?" Sienna had said, taking a moment to study the three-inch-thick plastic.

"Yes. It's hard to see out of them…"

"Not really much to see, is there?"

Reid had let his head fall; his eyes had fixated on a black tile in the linoleum. "I guess not."

"Eh. It'll give you something to do, I guess. Go ahead and clean them tomorrow while I'm gone."

Reid had swallowed hard, carefully choosing his next few words.

"Where…where is it you go, every day?"

Sienna had bored a hole in his forehead with her eyes. "None of your damn business," she'd spat.

The young agent once again fixated his eyes on the floor.

Angered, the woman had hastily thrown something on a plate and sat it in front of Reid. It looked like stir-fry; the carrots and pea pods mixing with some sort of white substance.

"Hurry up and eat," she'd snapped. "Ungrateful bastard."

Not wanting to continue to raise his captor's ire, the young agent began eating the meal at top speed.

If I give her time to settle down, maybe she'll forget about me for a few minutes, he had reasoned. He ran his fingertips along the top of the matchbook. Maybe then I can find something to start a fire with...

A couple of hours later, Sienna had fallen fast asleep.

Wherever she went, it knocked her out. Good. Now to find some kindling—old newsprint, cardboard; hell, at this point I'd settle for a birthday candle if it means lighting this place up.

Though in the back of his mind he knew it was an extremely risky and possibly dangerous move on his part, Reid rationalized that he didn't have much choice. His teammates were now somewhere probably in the South Arctic by now, and no one else would think to look for him.

When I get out of here, I'm putting in a request for Hotch to have me electronically tagged or something, Reid had thought. I am getting tired of the crazy people just whisking me away to some remote part of hell that I have to claw my way out of with sheer will and months of massive therapy.

Let them take Morgan for a change.

Finally, after nearly two hours of searching, the young doctor found exactly what it was he was looking for—a scrap of paper. Tucked inside Sienna's coat pocket was a small blank tablet containing nearly three dozen sheets of paper.

Quietly, Reid scampered into 'his' bedroom and began lining the windowsill with the sheets of paper, which had been crumpled loosely.

Please, God, let this work…

Taking one of the matches out of the tiny book, he struck it, emitting a flame on the tip of the waxed paper. Reid had turned the flame towards the paper, watching as it curled and smoked on the sill.

"Come on, come on…" he'd muttered. "Damn it, catch…"

Finally, there was a small spark. A single splinter had been left unprotected by fire-retardant coating on the wood, and it burned merrily on the sill.

"Yes!"

The cry of joy had been just a little too loud.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" the voice screeched, wielding a fire extinguisher and dousing the tiny glow of hope that was now doused in white chemicals.

Think fast…

"I…I was trying to get some air?"

A backhand had followed that meager explanation.

"Air, eh? There's going to be a lot of 'air' where you're going…"

And despite his flailing limbs that tried to kick and shove the incensed woman away, Reid found himself dragged to the bed, stripped down to nothing, and chained to it.

"Hope you enjoy the smell of smoke, Spencer," she'd spat. "I should punish you more thoroughly, but I'm just not up to it right now."

And that was three days ago, Reid thought. His stomach growled incessantly, and even the sight of water was enough to make him feel a need to use a bathroom. Sienna allowed him off the bed twice a day to swallow a glass of water and relieve himself, but the remaining twenty-three and a half hours he was stuck staring at the same four walls.

There was a part of Reid that wanted to scream, as long and as loud as he could. However, he soon realized that would be pointless—the walls were more than likely soundproof, as the windows were.

Sienna never spoke to him, not a word since he'd tried to start the fire. His head pounded from the lack of food and he wanted more than anything to be able to see more than the white of the walls and the red tile of the bathroom for more than three minutes.

Well, that seals it, the young doctor thought. I am definitely going to have to play her game if I want to get out of this.

Although, compliance doesn't always work with her…

Thinking about the night of the "performance," he shuddered, pulling the thin sheet he'd been allowed to keep over his bare form.

There's got to be another way. There has to be, for the sake of my sanity, and my dignity…and quite possibly, my life…