A/N: I own nothing but the joy of writing. Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog!

Saturday

Reid moved away from the hatch in the ceiling, as far away as possible. He ended up with his back against the far left wall. There was no telling who was going to come through the only entrance of the room, and the young doctor was not prepared to go into any sort of struggle at the moment. His head was still hurting, and the violent pounding in his chest made his blood race through his veins. Staring at the hatch, mouth gaping in anxiety of what to come, he pressed his sweaty palms against the warm concrete wall behind him.

The rattle continued for a moment, before a loud clank was heard. The hatch was lifted with an ear-splitting creak. Then came only silence. No one came through the opening; there was just silence.

Reid hesitated. Should he approach the entrance or remain where he was? He leaned over a bit, trying to see up the opening. "Hello?" he cautiously called. There was no answer.

"Who's there?" No answer. "Why am I here?" No answer. Reid began to wonder what exactly was going on. Why open the hatch if no one's coming down? Am I supposed to climb up? I can't get up there! What..? Before he finished his thought, a shuffle came from above the hatch. Reid jerked, never letting his eyes leave the dark opening.

Suddenly, the young doctor saw something moving in the dark above him. Reid tried to move farther away, but it was impossible. He was already as far away as humanly possible. His heart pounded out of control, and his hands began to shake. Too many possibilities flew through the young man's head, but none of them agreed with the reality before him.

Slowly, a basket was lowered through the opening in the ceiling. A long line was attached to it, emanating from the place above the cell. Someone was lowering it down to Reid. As it hit the floor, the line came loose. At the end of the line, there was a small claw which opened and closed by some control from above. After releasing the basket, the line was rapidly pulled back up, and once again the deafening creak from the closing hatch echoed through the room.

"Wait!" Reid called. "Talk to me! Why am I here?!"

But it was too late. The hatch had already closed with a loud slam, and the rattling sounds came once again, signaling that whoever was above him was locking him in tight. The silence resumed its reign over the tiny space. At this point, Reid was sweating through his shirt. Slowly, he moved towards the basket, cautiously peering into it. It contained a few items, none of them unfamiliar to the young doctor.

On the bottom of the shallow basket he found a small hand towel, a single drinking glass, a pack of crackers and an apple. As the young agent examined the items, he noticed a note at the bottom of the basket. Picking it up, he tried to focus his eyes enough to read the simple writing on it. His eyes widened as he began to grasp the situation.

Hello Dr. Reid. Welcome to my dungeon. I'm sorry, but you won't be enjoying your stay. In fact, it will probably be pure hell for you. Being the intelligent man I know you are, you should have realized by now that there is no way out of here, and that your friends don't know where you are. Co-operate, and your time here will be much easier. Please leave the basket where it is when you have taken the contents, or I will not be able to feed you. Use the water carefully; a new bottle won't fit in the basket. Ration your food, it has to last.

The letter ended abruptly, and Reid turned it over to see if there was anything on the back. There was.

Oh, and by the way. Don't flush the toilet. It's clogged.

Reid shivered, eying the filthy object in question with disgust. What in the world was going on?

He looked at the bottles of water along the wall. No way am I drinking that. After what she put in my drink, who knows what she put in the water.

He picked up the towel. What am I supposed to do with this? He let it run through his fingers, feeling the fabric. A towel. Am I supposed to dry something off? The young doctor let his gaze fall on the big bottles of water. How long am I supposed to be in here? Maybe the water isn't just for drinking; maybe I'm supposed to be able to wash myself in it as well? He shook his head in disbelief.

Placing the towel on the floor next to the basket, Reid examined the rest of the contents in the basket. An apple and a pack of crackers. I'm not hungry... He picked up the food anyway, checking the apple for pricks of some sort. He wasn't sure if the food was edible, considering his previous experience with toxins in his system. Not finding any obvious marks of intrusion on the apple's surface, the young agent placed the food next to the bottles. The pack of crackers was unopened, so hopefully it wouldn't be tainted by anything.

Returning to the basket, the only item left was the drinking glass. Reid simply looked at it, wondering why it wasn't a plastic cup instead. Glass in a concrete room, that's not very perceptive. What if it breaks? Considering the possibility, it struck him that the UnSub gave him a glass to make a point. You break it, you lose it. He carefully placed the glass beside the food on the floor.

Examining the water bottles, he discovered that they all still had their safety caps on. They were all unopened. A light sensation of relief came over the young doctor as he realized that the water was fresh and safe to drink.

Lifting the towel off the floor, he placed it over one of the water containers. He once again began pacing the room, holding the note. The young doctor let his brain process the information on the note and the entire situation.

Why am I here? I have no idea.

Who put me here? It has to be Angelica. Or someone she works for. But who?

Why did the note say that it would be pure hell for me? He tried to calm himself down, knowing full well that panicking would not help his predicament at all.

The beads of sweat running down his brow hit his eyes, making them sting. Annoyed, he rubbed his eyes with his free hand, while clutching the note in the other. After pacing the room for a good five minutes without pausing, he lifted his arms above his head and slammed his fists into the concrete wall in pure frustration. Once again the young man found himself in a situation he could not control, a state of sheer degradation. Locked up like an animal, being fed and probably watched somehow like a monkey at the zoo. He let out a deep groan as he let himself sink to his knees, his head against the wall, and fists still above his head. Why is someone doing this to me?

He drew a deep breath and let it out harshly. An unsettling thought came over the young doctor as he slowly lifted his head to look around the cell. Is this place air tight..? He stood up, searching the walls and top corners for air holes. What he found somewhat calmed him, but also made an eerie feeling creep up his spine. Up in the far left corner he found himself staring straight into the lens of a camera, peering through a small hole in the ceiling. So you are watching. Whoever you are.

Walking over to said corner, Reid reached up towards the camera. A slight current came from the small hole. Good. It's not air tight. He took a few steps to the side, running his fingers through his tousled hair. The young doctor knew he had to be able to think straight to make it through his captivity. Alright, genius – do your thing. Analyze the situation. What are the facts?

Fact: I am stuck in a cell of some sort, there are no exits and no means of escape. I can't get out.

Fact: I don't know for sure who is keeping me here, but a possible UnSub is Angelica.

Fact: I don't know why I am here.

He placed his hands in his pockets as he looked around the room, taking in every detail, still pacing. The analyst in his brain was at full speed, but this time in a good way. He was breaking down the situation into small bits and facts, easier to understand and analyze.

Fact: The UnSub has provided me with food and water, and a mediocre way of relieving myself. This points to a possibility that he wants to keep me here for a period of time not known to me.

Fact: The toilet is clogged for a reason, in this cell there are no coincidences. This is meticulously planned; the UnSub would not have missed that the toilet is virtually unusable. There is a psychological effect intended here. The smell of human excrements induces nausea and headaches, and while it's harmless it is not a pleasant experience.

Fact: The glass is a responsibility action. The UnSub places responsibility on me by giving me a fragile object in a very risky environment.

Fact: The towel is a bit of a mystery. Why give me a towel? To wash myself, maybe? The UnSub seems to want to keep me in a relatively good state by bringing me food, water and means to keep my hygiene up to at least minimal standards.

Fact: There is no bed, or any meand of making myself comfortable. Apparently I am not supposed to be comfortable in here, and apparently I am not supposed to be able to rest for long periods of time, hence the motion detectors. I have yet to calculate the length of time before the devices trip and turn out the lights. The UnSub wants to have me exhausted, disoriented and weak – maybe not now, but later.

Fact: The camera is a method of control. The UnSub wants to see what I am doing at all times. The fact that the camera is placed across the room from the toilet does not leave me any privacy, not even to relieve myself.

He stopped pacing, crossing his arms over his chest. He was ready to make a profile.

This UnSub is probably suffering from serious control issues, OCD and possibly paranoid delusions. He, if it is a he, would be obsessed with cleanliness and hygiene, despite the filthy toilet. The UnSub could have been abused as a child or as an adult, or maybe both. He probably has been incarcerated at one or more occasions, possibly in jail or an institution. He lives alone, has limited contact with his family and a very reduced social network. The UnSub is mainly a method and/or reason controlled perpetrator.

The last fact made Reid think a bit further. He furrowed his brow as he sat down in the middle of the room, crossing his legs. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he leaned over, resting his chin in his hands. Both the method- and reason-based perpetrators are organized and structured. Their crimes are usually planned down to the smallest detail. And they also always have a very clear reason as to why they are doing what they are doing. I know the UnSub's profile. All I have to do now is figure out his reason.

The young doctor rose and turned to the camera, glaring at it in pure disgust. "I guess I'm gonna have to figure out why I'm here by myself, since you're obviously not gonna tell me", he snarled at the mechanical device peering at him from its hiding place.

The second he had finished his remark, the lights in the cell went out, and Reid's prison was once again engulfed in a thick darkness. The young agent yelped, dropping the note on the floor. Frightened, he backed until he forcefully hit one of the concrete walls. Beginning to wave his arms in the air, Reid tried to activate the motion detectors so they'd turn the lights back on, but the cell remained black.

The sensation hitting the young agent was fear. Plain and simple fear. "Please!" he cried. "Turn the lights back on! I'm sorry!" But the lights did not come on, despite the desperate pleas from the frightened man. Reid tried to calm himself down, but to no avail. Soon, tears filled his eyes as he buried his face in his palms, hiding from everything lurking in the opaqueness. Crying, he sank to the warm concrete floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. He had once again been reduced to a frightened child, weeping in the relentless darkness.