A/N: Beta read and bunny-enhanced by the Gublerific editor frog, my partner in torture! Thankyou everyone for the lovely reviews, you guys make this story worth writing! Oh, and I had no idea there were that many Michiganders out there )

"Michigan."

Hotch snapped his head up as Morgan uttered the one single word to break the silence in the conference room. "What?"

"'Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam, circumspice', it's the state motto of Michigan." He tapped the computer screen. "Google is a wonderful thing when Garcia is out for food."

Hotch nodded. "It doesn't help us much, though; we already know he's in Michigan."

"Yeah." Gideon rubbed his temples. "The second part is the clue to the place he's in. That's the one we have to figure out."

"No shit, Sherlock? Really?" Morgan was getting fed up with Gideon's 'stating-the-obvious' behavior. "Look, Gideon, the last thing we need right now is someone who tells me the sky is blue. If you have something fresh to say, then say it. If not, then shut up!" Morgan turned back to the computer, desperately searching for 'the emperor and his empress'.

"Morgan!" Hotch scolded at his subordinate. "This is neither the time nor the place."

"Then when is it,Hotch? Don't tell me you're not getting sick of him constantly stating the obvious?

"Take a walk, Morgan." Hotch looked sternly at his colleague, knowing he'd need to calm down to do his job.

"Hotch!" Morgan raised his eyebrows in surprise and shock over his superior's response. "Like hell I'm gonna take a walk!"

"Walk it off, Morgan. Come back when you've cooled off."

Resisting the urge to take a swing at both his superior and his older colleague across the table, Morgan rose, knocking over his chair in the process. With an icy stare at his both colleagues, he grabbed his jacket and left the room.

Hotch sighed and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. "We don't need this right now."

Gideon had remained silent during the entire conversation between his younger co-workers, simply staring out the window. He tried to figure out what he possibly could have done to deserve to have this very disturbed woman's rage thrust upon him; on him and on Reid.

Every single book and poem Gideon had ever read flew through his mind, but the pieces of the puzzle just wouldn't fit together. It frustrated him to the brink of screaming.

JJ and Emily had been sent back to the Carell house for one last conversation with Cate's mother. No one expected her to cooperate this time either, but it was all they had.

Hotch and Gideon sat silently in the conference room, wondering what in the world they were going to do. Reid had been kidnapped and was being tortured; and there was nothing they could do about it. The profile was made, the UnSubs were identified and known to be somewhere in Michigan. Which left them with nearly 100,000 square miles of possible hiding places. The search seemed hopeless.

And the clues didn't help a bit. Just as Gideon had said, they were only meant to throw them off track; to confuse them. If it hadn't meant causing Reid more pain than he already was in, Hotch wouldn't have given the childish riddles the time of day. Unfortunately, the situation called for it, and they just had to deal with it, no matter how hard it was.

It felt like and impossible chase.

The timer ticked down towards zero rapidly, only 16 minutes left. And all they had was the obvious: Michigan.

--

The darkness in the cell still lingered as Reid woke up from his exhaustion induced sleep. He had been slipping in and out of a mix between sleep and unconsciousness for what he could only assume was hours. His entire body hurt from the abuse he had been forced to endure.

Every move he made sent bolts of pain into every inch of his skin. Nevertheless, he dragged himself up onto his knees, whimpering every inch of the way. The young doctor felt an urgent need to use the already well filled toilet. He forced himself to stand up, despite the searing pain shooting through his body.

As he made it to his feet, the need to relieve himself was replaced by a churning in his stomach. He stumbled blindly over to where he hoped the toilet was. Searching the wall with his hands, he finally found the porcelain bowl and threw himself on it, spewing out every piece of stomach contents that remained inside of him.

Dry heaving, he leaned heavily on the bowl, trying to regain his balance and some form of control over his functions. He slumped down on the floor, his back against the wall. Breathing heavily, the young doctor felt his rear end pulsating as he sat as lightly as humanly possible on it.

Tears once again filled his eyes, this time more from the pain than the humiliation. The young man cringed with every move as he crawled over the entire surface of the floor, searching in vain for his only means of cover; his blanket.

It was nowhere to be found.

They took it... they've taken everything! There's nothing in here!

Cursing himself for not having the common sense to cooperate, he gave a loud cry in despair, banging his clenched fists against the concrete floor.

The cell was getting colder. Not freezing, but cold enough to send shivers down his spine and make him shudder lightly. He hoped to God that he wouldn't have to endure another night, or day, of icy cold. There was no way he could stand that--not that, and still keep the little sanity he had left.

Reid curled up on the floor, closing his eyes. His chest felt like it had been struck by a truck, and he wrapped his arms around his torso. The dehydration was getting to him. The young agent began feeling light headed and weak. A headache was beginning to form just around his temples. But he couldn't drink anything in the dark, in fear of breaking the glass.

Keep it safe, keep it safe, he thought. He decided to wait for a possible brightening of his cell.

Tears ran down his cheeks, burning his wounds. The young man's mouth still tasted of blood as he let his tongue glide over his teeth, including the gap where there used to be a molar.

Why? Oh, God, why? Why can't you just leave me alone so I can die in peace?

--

"There's only two minutes left. What do we do?" Hotch had small beads of sweat running down his brow as he watched the timer ticking down.

Gideon stared at the screen. "We don't have a choice. We'll have to type in what we have."

Hotch let his head drop. He knew Gideon was right. It was the only thing they could do at this point.

Slowly, Gideon typed in the only answer they had: 'Michigan'. Pressing ENTER, both men leaned over to see the response from the UnSub. They didn't have to wait for long.

Partial credit.

The message disappeared. A few more moments passed by before the live feed image from the cell appeared in its place. Reid lay on the floor; the room still an eerie shade of green from the night vision tint.

"Dear God." Gideon cringed as he saw his protégé curled up on the hard concrete floor, completely naked. But something was bothering him. Reaching over to the small reel on the side of the laptop, he spun it all the way to the right – and they heard it.

It was the sound of the young agent's woeful crying. Both men froze as they heard the unnerving sounds emerging from the small speaker over the keyboard. The crying was painful and desperate, breaking the older agents' hearts.

"He's been assaulted", Hotch said, his voice cracking after the first syllable.

As the feed ended and the screen went blank once more, the two men sat as if they had been petrified; still staring at the LCD-screen of the laptop. Neither man bothered to hide the tears forcing their way up into their eyes.

Suddenly, a new message appeared on the black screen in a screaming lime green color.

Too bad, agent Gideon. You could have gotten to him tonight, had you been completely correct in your answer. As you were not, there will be consequences for Dr. Reid.

The men cringed. They had put Reid in even more danger.

I will, however, be generous enough as to wait to distribute the punishment, as he has been very much penalized today for insubordination.

Gideon frowned. He couldn't imagine Reid being insubordinate in any form, especially not faced with the kind of danger he was at the moment. Although, the older agent thought, to this deranged woman, a sneeze could be considered 'disobedient.'

If I feel generous once again tomorrow, perhaps I will give you another clue pointing towards his whereabouts. Until then, gentlemen.

The two men looked at each other as the message dissolved. Both had the same questioning look on their face. Hotch was the first to speak.

"Why did it say 'agent Gideon' at first, and then 'gentlemen'?"

Gideon had the same thought in mind. Clicking the saved link to the last clue, there was another inconsistency to be found. "All the clues and riddles so far have been addressed to me personally; the last one was addressed to the BAU."

"Does she know we're all here?"

"She must. The real question is, how?"

The two men looked around. They were alone in the room, and no one was within earshot. Hotch shuddered at the thought that became obviously clear to him. There had to be someone on the inside, following their every move.

Rising, the two men went to talk to the chief of police, Michael Jefferson. Opening the door to his office without knocking, the stepped into the room. "You have a mole." Hotch stated.

"What!" Jefferson's answer was very expected.

"Someone has been following the entire operation from inside your station."

"That's not possible!"

"Why not?"

"Because not one of my officers has known about why you're here, they just know it's a kidnapping of some kind. Besides, not one of my men has even been into the conference room since you got here, and that's where you people do all your talking!"

A dime dropped in both agents' heads. Without a word, they swiftly left the room, Hotch pulling his phone from his pocket.

"This is agent Hotchner; we need a bug sweeper at the Saginaw police station. Yes, now."

Gideon had also taken out his phone. "Morgan, get back here. Call Emily and JJ and get them back here too. We have a bug."

--

It's so quiet. It's nice. I wish it would be this quiet all the time. Oh, God, why am I here? Why can't I just go home?

I wish I was home. I wish I had never gone out Friday night. I wish I could have a normal life, without people trying to torture and maim and kill me. I wish I had my tooth left. I wish I didn't hurt in every extremity of my being. I wish I could be a person again.

Where am I? Am I in hell? In some definition of hell, anyway. Everything hurts..

Am I really not worth more than this? Don't I deserve to die in a dignified way? Should I have to die naked, beaten, shamed and humiliated?

Maybe I'm not worth more than this. Maybe I'm just a piece of meat to put on display. Maybe I am just a sad, pathetic excuse for a man.

Maybe…maybe I deserve this.

--

The remaining part of the BAU had gathered in an interrogation room at the Saginaw police station. The room had been swept for bugs and come up clean. The conference room however, had not. There had been two bugs in the room, one under the table and one behind the mandatory whiteboard by the leftmost wall.

"I can't believe they managed to bug the room! When did they do that!" Emily was furious. Not only had the UnSubs managed to keep Reid hidden from them for nearly a week and play a twisted cat-and-mouse game with the BAU, but had also vicariously injected themselves in the investigation. This was the model of deranged and over-intelligent behavior.

"Says here in a file we weren't handed that Cate Carell and Tracy Graham came in her two weeks ago reporting an attempted assault." Morgan read from a few pages in the file. "The girls had been out to a club and were molested by a man while walking home. They were pretty upset and were taken to the conference room to calm down."

"Someone probably left them alone and went to get them coffee." JJ sighed.

Hotch wandered around the room. "They've been listening to every word we've said; been one step ahead all along."

"Now what do we do?" asked Morgan. The question was a justifiable one.

"We continue. We'll set up camp in here instead. I'm not taking any chances with the conference room. The UnSubs were never in the interrogation rooms."

"Did you solve the riddle?" JJ changed the subject, and immediately sent the two older agents into a crestfallen state. The blonde agent saw the instant change in her colleagues' faces. "What? What happened?"

Hotch cleared his throat. "We only got half the riddle right. We got to see him, and...hear him."

"How is he?" Emily knew the instant she spoke what an idiotic question she had asked.

"Not good. They've taken all his clothes. And he's been beaten."

Emily felt tears clogging up her eyes, but swallowed hard and blinked them away. It hurt every fiber of her being, knowing that one of her best friends was in this kind of distress.

"He was crying." Hotch turned away from his colleagues, not wanting them to see the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Stay in the room, Morgan. We need everyone right now." Gideon did not want to see his younger co-worker leave in anger one more time.

Morgan was silent. His jaws tensed up and relaxed time after time and his stare was blank. The anger he felt inside was like nothing he had ever felt before. These UnSubs better hope I don't find them before the rest of the team does.

Everyone in the BAU was now more determined than ever to find Reid – no matter how hard the search was.