Chapter 4

The dreams played over and over in Adam Hefner's mind as he thrashed about on the bed; troubling dreams that held no meaning for him at all. They were about people he didn't know….

"Be careful," he told her.

"You too," was her reply.

They had split up after exchanging those words. He went one way and the woman the other. He had gone into one of the rooms with his gun in one hand and a mini-flashlight in the other, and, after his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, slowly entered the room and looked around.

"Traci!" he called out to the empty darkness without receiving an answer. "Traci Hopson!" Still there was no answer. But he felt the hairs on his neck bristle as a red flag warning became apparent. He felt as if he was not alone in this room. But there was nobody present.

He turned around with his weapon pointed in one hand and shined the light beam in one end of the room. "Come out with your hands up!"

A noise from behind him made him whirl around again shining the light in another corner. Again there was nobody. What was going on here? A sudden moaning sound from behind him made him turn around again and shine his flashlight in the far corner where he found a young woman, lying on the floor curled up in a ball, whimpering so softly he hadn't even heard it prior to now. Her arms were wrapped around herself.

With eyes narrowed, he hurried to the woman's side and dropped to one knee beside her. Whoever she was, she was not Traci Hopson. Had there been another girl since Traci? He placed a hand gently on the woman's head and equally as gently stroked her hair attempting to calm the woman who was trembling.

"Don't hurt me," she begged in a shaky tone as she began to shy away from the outstretched hand. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt me anymore."

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a calming voice. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Don't hurt me anymore, please. Please don't hurt me." She squeezed her eyes tightly shut refusing to look at him. She just continued to whimper as if in some kind of pain. A noise behind him again made him turn while remaining on his knee beside the woman; his flashlight illuminating a man about six feet tall standing beside the door holding what appeared to be a club of some kind.

"Get away from her," the man with the club demanded as he took a step closer.

Still kneeling beside the frightened woman, he aimed his weapon at the approaching man who was slapping the weapon into the palm of his opposite hand and continued approaching. "Drop your weapon and put your hands up where I can see them," he ordered. The man continued approaching.

Suddenly, he yelped dropping the flashlight and grabbing the back of his thigh once he felt the pin prick. Looking down, the woman, now seemingly recovered, was leaning on one elbow and holding a syringe in one hand. She had a grin on her face.

"What did you…what…?" he managed to get out before a weird sensation overtook his body, and suddenly he found himself unable to speak or move. He fell forward onto the floor; even his weapon was too heavy to hold now and slipped from his fingers. He knew immediately he had been given a paralyzing drug. As he couldn't move or speak, but was awake and could feel things, he felt the woman's body press against his back as she leaned over him and picked up his dropped weapon before scooting around him and was now in front of him gazing into his eyes. She was smiling.

"You're probably wondering why we're doing this to you. It's very simple really. You know what we look like for one. The other is that you'd be perfect for the experiment; a big, strong man like you. So in control. It'll be enjoyable to see how out-of-control we can get you." She looked up at the man who still carried the club.

"We can't stay here any longer," he told her in a low voice. "We need to get out of here and take him with us. He brought others with him and they're all in the house searching for us and the girl."

"How do we get him out of here then?"

"Simple. I have a stretcher hidden behind one of the secret panels. We can use that to help get him out of here as he can't speak or move. I've taken care of the woman so she won't interrupt us. Once we get him out of the house and into the woods, we can then load him into the ambulance and head to our location where we can keep him until it's safe to move him. We'll have to get him somewhat prepared for what needs to be done."

"Get the stretcher," she ordered. She waited until the man had walked away before leaning over and running a finger along Hotch's jaw line. "You are a looker," she said softly. She kissed the tip of Hotch's nose and glanced over her shoulder to make sure the other man hadn't returned yet; he hadn't. Turning back to Hotch she stroked his cheek. "Jack probably won't like us bringing you to him at first. But once the idea of breaking a big, strong FBI agent appeals to him, he'll come around. And anyway…." running her hand now down the agent's body, and let it linger on his groin area. She groped him through his trousers. Her eyebrows arched and a pleasurable smile appeared. "…you are certainly well endowed, I see. Perhaps it won't be a total waste after all." She turned and spotted the man carrying a folded stretcher; she stood up and walked over to him, leaving Hotch alone. His eyes watched the two of them as they went about their business knowing he couldn't do or say anything to stop them. And what had the man done to Prentiss? What did he mean by he had taken care of the woman? Was Prentiss dead? No. He wouldn't think like that. He couldn't afford to. He blinked back the gathering moisture in his eyes.

The man reached under the stretcher after it had been opened and locked it after laying it flat beside Hotch. Then, he stuck his hands under Hotch's armpits and moved the upper half of his body onto the stretcher while the woman moved his legs. Once that was done, the woman stuck Hotch's weapon in her waistband and his mini flashlight in her pocket as the man picked up a sheet and after shaking it open, quickly covered Hotch with it from head-to-toe.

"Let's go," he said as he crouched down grabbing the front end of the stretcher while the woman picked up the other end and the duo then left the room by exiting through the hidden wall panel being sure to close it behind them.

"Uhhhhh," Adam groaned, his head tossing from side to side as he strained against his restraints. He needed to get free; to get away from these dreams of people he didn't know. If the woman in the beginning looked familiar to him, then why couldn't he remember who she was? What was he doing in that place to begin with?

He suddenly felt a hand gently stroking his hair in a calming fashion. "Relax, Adam. Sleep." She continued stroking his hair until his breathing evened out and he seemed to settle down. "You need to rest before tomorrow when the experiment starts. The doctor needs you rested, not agitated." To drive home her point, Daria leaned forward and pressed her lips firmly against Adam's and kissed him passionately as she ran one hand down his chest to his stomach before heading lower to his groin area where she began groping him again. She could feel the man moan as he tossed back and forth against the restraints. Hearing the door opening, she quickly sat up straight on the edge of the bed waiting to see who was coming in. She smiled when she saw her husband come in.

"I somehow thought I'd find you in here with him," Ron sneered. "I'm beginning to think you have a thing for him."

"Don't be silly, Ron," Daria cooed getting to her feet and approaching her husband. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I told you before he is quite handsome, but you're the only man I want and need," she cooed with a final glance over her shoulder at the sleeping figure. "Not that I wouldn't give anything for one night with Adam," she told herself. She then looked at her husband. "Why are you here anyway? Has something happened?"

"My father has two FBI agents in his office right now and I was about to take off for the lab but couldn't find you. I have to make certain everything is ready for tomorrow. Also, I don't want either of us seen by either FBI agent right now. So, let's go." He held open the door and as his wife passed him by and into the corridor, he stared at the sleeping figure. He frowned. "Adam, I suspect my wife has more than a scientific interest in you. And should that prove to be the case, I might have to do something about it." He told himself before following her out the door and closing it behind him.

"You certainly have a lot of citations and awards, Doctor Hunt," said Emily Prentiss as she studied the contents of some of the framed items on the wall. "Very impressive," she added turning to look back at the doctor seated behind his desk with hands folded on top and a broad smile on his face.

"Thank you, Agent Prentiss," he said with just a bit of feigned embarrassment. "I take great pride in my work with the mentally ill. Making them well again is my top priority." His eyes then shifted to those of Spencer Reid who sat in one of two cushioned chairs in front of the expansive mahogany desk with his long legs crossed and his arms folded across his body. Reid's face was unreadable. "So Agent Reid…or do I refer to you as Doctor Reid?" He studied the young man with his longish brown hair, boyish features, and gentle brown eyes.

"Dr. Reid is fine," Reid said just a bit shyly.

Hunt chuckled. "It's rare to find someone as young as you as a medical doctor and an FBI agent as well. How old are you if I may ask?"

"Twenty-five. And I'm not that kind of doctor. I have PhDs in Chemistry, Mathematics, and Engineering; can read 20,000 words a minute, have an IQ of 187, and have an eidetic memory."

Hunt arched his eyebrows in genuine surprise. "You're a genius then?"

Reid smiled, embarrassed, and hung his head just a bit. "I uh…yes."

"Then let me congratulate you, sir," Hunt admitted. "I've never actually met a true genius before. I am truly honored, sir."

Prentiss, meanwhile, had sat down in the other cushioned chair beside Reid. She crossed her legs and rested her arms on the wooden arms of her chair. "Doctor Hunt, Dr. Reid and I understand how busy you are and appreciate you taking time out to speak with us."

"Always eager to help the FBI," Hunt admitted shifting in his seat. "I know you both might want to speak with Dr. Bowman as he treated Andrea Ackles, but he is off today but will be in tomorrow. He's the best one to talk about Andrea as he was her personal therapist. Now, how can I help you agents? I assume your visit has to do with the young ladies who were killed after being discharged from here?"

"Yes it does," Prentiss gave a slight shake of her head tossing a strand of her raven hair over her shoulder. "We understand two of the deceased women were being treated personally by you?"

Hunt turned a charming smile in the direction of Prentiss. "That's correct…." he grabbed two file folders from the corner of his desk and opened both of them laying them side by side. "….a Jennifer Lawman and a Tara Jamison. Lovely girls, both of them. They were making such excellent progress while they were here. I had such high hopes…." he sighed wearily. "Just goes to show even the best of us can never tell sometimes, can they?"

"Exactly what were they being treated for, Doctor Hunt?" asked Prentiss who was intently studying the older man.

"Let's see." Hunt looked through the folder marked 'Lawman' first. "Jennifer was being treated for bipolar depression while Tara was being treated for depression with rapid cycling." He eyed the female agent. "Are you familiar with rapid cycling, agent?" Prentiss had to shake her head indicating that she really didn't have any idea although she had heard of the term. But as Hunt opened his mouth to respond, Reid beat him to it.

"Rapid cycling is when a person experiences four or more mood swings or more commonly called episodes in a twelve-month period. Each episode can consist of depression, mania or even a mixed state. Bipolar depression, on the other hand, involves periods of excitability alternating with periods of depression. The mood swings with bipolar depression between mania and depression can be very abrupt," he explained with excitement while looking at Prentiss.

Hunt, duly impressed, arched both eyebrows. "I couldn't have explained it any better than that, Doctor Reid."

The young agent, seeing Emily staring at him with amazement, turned away feeling a bit embarrassed for running off at the mouth. Swallowing, he shut his mouth as if embarrassed.

"How were both girls progressing?" Emily asked.

"Very well in fact. Jennifer was being treated with an anti-depressant which had originally been prescribed by her psychiatrist Dr. Ottinger. Once she was admitted here to Sierra Vista and she was given a thorough examination and evaluation by me, I saw no need to change her medication."

"What was she taking?"

"Let's see. She was taking lithium, the maximum dosage allowed. Unfortunately, she had tried overdosing on it prior to being admitted here. But that still didn't, in my opinion, warrant changing her medication."

"And what about Tara Jamison?" Reid asked.

Hunt went through his other folder again. "Tara was prescribed Zoloft which she was doing well on. That, group therapy, and one-on-one therapy with me. Jennifer also had group therapy and one-on-one therapy."

"And both women responded well?"

"Yes indeed. I would never have recommended they be discharged after thirty days if they hadn't. I would have found some way to keep them here."

"I don't understand," Emily stated. "If thirty days wasn't sufficient time why would you have to find a way to keep them here longer. It seems to me you would just have to recommend they remain here."

Hunt smirked. "You obviously haven't been confined in a mental hospital, Agent Prentiss. The insurance companies only allow thirty days maximum coverage for hospitalization in a mental health facility. You have to fight tooth and nail if your patient requires longer hospitalization."

Prentiss folded her arms. "Did you feel either woman required a longer stay?"

Hunt shook his head. "Looking back at it now, perhaps I should have keep both Jennifer and Tara here longer. But at the time, I felt in my opinion, that they were sufficiently recovered enough to be discharged and return to their daily lives."

"I notice, doctor, that you address both women by their first names," Emily said shifting in her chair while never moving her eyes from the doctor. "Isn't that a bit unusual?"

Hunt smiled. "Perhaps, Agent Prentiss," he said. "But here at Sierra Vista we address all our patients by their first names. We prefer to maintain a family-like atmosphere. I believe it makes our patients feel less like they're in a mental health facility and more like they're at the home of a family member or friend. It goes a long way to making them feel safe here."

"Let me ask a question, Doctor Hunt," Reid said playing with his fingers. "What exactly is the procedure when you get a new patient? What I mean is what happens when a patient is admitted here to Sierra Vista?"

Hunt sighed. "Well, after their personal information is received and a file created, they are given a complete physical examination by one of our licensed physicians to that we can have a record of any and all physical conditions or ailments which may interfere with the treatment program that needs to be set up for them. An example is that if it's discovered a patient has hypertension, there are certain antidepressants which may be dangerous to that medical condition and we need to know things like that. Our patients well-being physically is as important as their mental health here. After that is done, the patient is assigned to a psychiatrist and the routine and the rules here are explained to the patient."

"And what are the rules if we may ask?" asked Prentiss.

"They're very simple really. Each patient has a strict routine that must be observed. They must be up by seven a.m. and be showered and dressed by seven thirty. Breakfast is from seven forty-five to eight-fifteen. They must each attend group therapy, individual therapy with their assigned doctors, participate in art classes, and if they have free time they can spend it either in their rooms or in the common area where the patients can play board games, watch television, read or sit and talk. We try to keep the free times to a limit as we want to keep them occupied and have a structured routine. We feel that will go a long way to helping the patient when he or she returns to society." He frowned. "It just worries me what all these deaths are going to do to the hospital's reputation." He paused as there was a knock on his office door.

"Come in," Hunt announced looking around as did the agents. The door opened and Daria stood just inside the doorway.

"Yes, nurse? Can whatever it is wait a few minutes? I'm busy with the FBI right now."

"I'm sorry, Doctor Hunt. But you asked that someone keep an eye on Mr. Hefner and let you know if there's any change in his condition."

The sudden change in Hunt's face didn't escape either Reid or Prentiss. "Is this Mr. Hefner a patient, doctor?" asked Prentiss.

"Ah yes. Yes he is. He just arrived today. His family moved out here and had him transferred to Sierra Vista." Getting to his feet, Hunt excused himself for a minute and escorted Daria outside, closing the door behind him. "What are you doing here?" he said in a low voice. "I agreed you and Ron should stay out of sight until after the FBI left."

"I know you did, but you needn't worry so much. The FBI has no idea what Ron and I look like and nobody ever saw us. And those at Central State think we moved somewhere other than Sacramento."

Hunt, reaching out, ran both hands up and down his daughter-in-law's arms before giving them a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry. It's just that nothing must go wrong before we carry out the testing on Adam. He could be the one we've been looking for. By the way, you said something about there being a change in his condition?"

"Yes. He's becoming restless and tossing and turning. He might be fighting the effects of the drug. What do you want me to do?"

"Give him another injection but slightly increase the dosage this time. He must be kept quiet while the FBI is here. Also, after you give him the injection, stay with him and keep an eye on him. I'll stop by and check on him after I get rid of the FBI."

"Consider it done," Daria replied with a slight upturn of the corners of her mouth. She turned and hurried away. After she was gone, Hunt re-entered his office to see Prentiss and Reid standing and looking as if they were preparing to leave. He feigned surprise.

"Leaving already?" he asked. "I thought you'd want to ask me more questions?" His eyes shifted back and forth between the agents.

"We understand how busy you are," Reid stated extending his hand which Hunt shook. The psychiatrist was somewhat surprised by the firm handshake of the skinny agent. "How's Mr. Hefner?" he asked sticking both hands in his pants pockets and shaking his head slightly to get a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"He'll be fine. He came to us in a catatonic state. I'm hoping to accomplish with him what I failed with Jennifer and Tara as well as those other poor women."

Prentiss bit her lower lip as she pushed back a strand of her just below shoulder-length hair over her shoulder. "Doctor Hunt, would it be possible for Dr. Reid and myself to look around the hospital? Perhaps talk to some of the staff?"

"And maybe a few of the patients as well?" Reid tossed in. "Perhaps they saw or heard something while these women were patients here as your staff might have been otherwise occupied."

"Absolutely not!" Hunt replied with a touch of anger in his voice that surprised both agents although they hid their reaction. "My patients expect their privacy to be maintained while here and be safe from outsiders prying into their lives." His face softened a bit. "I'm afraid I must deny your request, agents." He held open his office door for them. "I'm afraid I must go now. Our newest patient, Adam Hefner is having problems and I must check on him. Poor man, we had to have him restrained when he got here." He walked out the office and were soon in the common room.

"Why is he restrained if he's catatonic?" asked a curious Prentiss. Again before Hunt could answer, Reid jumped in.

"Ah, Emily, although catatonic patients normally have a lack of response to external stimuli and are resistant to movement or instructions, there have been instances where they can still cause themselves self-inflicted injury." Reid noticed Hunt staring at him with an amused grin on his face.

"Doctor Reid, I would love the opportunity to work with you and study how your mind works. I bet you would present a real challenge." His face brightened. "In fact, why don't you stop by sometime so we can talk some more. I find you most fascinating indeed."

Reid blushed. He was not use to compliments from those other than his mother and his fellow agents. He blinked back tears as he recalled how Hotch always encouraged him and complimented him on his genius. He was glad to see Hunt didn't seem to notice.

"We'll see," was all Reid uttered before he and Prentiss started to walk away; he stopped and turned back. "Oh, by the way, One of us will be back tomorrow to speak with Doctor Bowman. But we'll check before we stop by."

"That will be fine," Hunt said as he watched both agents turn and leave the building. "Yes Doctor Reid. If things don't work out with Adam. You will be a wonderful addition to our testing," he told himself. "Your mind most definitely would provide a challenge. Perhaps you and Adam together will be what we need."

But first things first, Hunt thought. He still had Adam. But he tucked away the knowledge that Spencer Reid was waiting in the wings should Adam not survive.