A/N: Hi all, and thank you for your lovely reviews! I'm sorry not having answered several of them, but apparently the review reply function and me haven't been getting along for a while. But it seems to have worked itself out by now, so no worries. Here we go, another chapter! Have fun!

-o-o-o-

"Demand me nothing. What you know, you know.
From this time forth I never will speak word."

-- Iago, Shakespeare's Othello.

-o-o-o-

"Garcia, are you sure?" The voice coming through her headphones was very familiar, and as usual there were no pleasant images flashing over her computer screens. Blood, distorted faces and police reports overlapped each other, and Garcia took a firmer grip on her glittery troll-headed pencil.

"Nothing, nada, zilch. I mean, I have about six dozed murder cases, all varying in ickyness and horror, but only 19 stab victims and out of those seven were domestic disputes, five have been solved already and out of the remaining seven, four were women, and none of the other three took place in the manner you described." Garcia spoke in her usual quick paced tone as she spouted the facts about the mindless rampage flickering over her screen.

"Okay, thanks baby girl." Morgan sounded genuinely relieved, and Garcia could almost hear the smile on his lips.

"Not a problem. Let me know if there is anything else you need."

Hanging up the phone, Garcia took off the headphones and placed them on the table before her. Leaning back into the chair, she thought about what Morgan had just told her about Reid's experience at the hypnotherapist. All he had told her, really, was that what Reid had seen while being under, was that he killed someone. Then he had described the event to her and asked her to check if anything like that had occurred during the days Reid had been missing. She had checked all surrounding states, Tennessee and Connecticut, and had found nothing at all that matched what Reid thought he had experienced.

Shaking her head, Garcia reached for her diet Coke. After taking a few sips, she leaned back over her keyboard. Since there was currently no case on their table, she decided to read up a bit on hypnosis.

Couldn't hurt to know what we're dealing with here.

-o-o-o-

Morgan clicked his phone closed and slipped it into his pocket with a relieved look on his face. "She can't find anything, Reid."

Reid shook his head slowly. "No. I know it happened."

There was a moment of silence before Morgan spoke again. "There's no evidence that whatever you remembered under hypnosis really took place, it could just be an implanted memory. To mess with your mind."

They sat in the unmoving car, none of them ready to go anywhere. So many questions remained, but the answers were incredibly limited. Morgan held his hands on the steering wheel and Reid sat by his side in the passenger's seat, looking at his hands.

"I could feel it, Morgan", he mumbled. "I could feel the blade go into his body. You can't place that feeling into someone's head."

"Maybe they…"

"They? Who are they?" Reid interrupted. "Who are they and why did they take me? Was there a reason or am I just a victim of the April fool's joke from hell?"

Silence fell once again when they both realized that there was no answer for any of the questions Reid had just asked. There was simply a black hole of nothingness.

"I'll take you home."

With an inward sigh, Morgan started the car and put it into gear. Driving away from the doctor's office, the same thought spun in both men's heads.

They might never find out what really happened during those four days.

-o-o-o-

2 weeks later

Prentiss entered the bullpen, carrying a stack of files in her hands. It was a good way to occupy herself during the weekends when they were not away on any case. Catching up on backed up paper work always made her feel better about herself. But there was not a case file in the world that would make her skip her Desperate Housewives marathon which had become a tradition for her every time they actually had more than one day off. Those five hours were sacred, and woe the person trying to interrupt her if someone wasn't dead or dying.

Dropping the stack of papers on her desk, Prentiss sat down with a sigh of relief. A quick glance over the bullpen told her that Morgan and Reid were by their desks and she could see Rossi moving around in his office through the half closed blinds. Hotch's door was closed, but Prentiss knew that her superior had most likely been there before everyone else this morning – if he had even left last night.

She took a fresh folder and started organizing some papers on the table. Thankfully, it seemed to be a calm Monday morning. Maybe crime did take time off every now and then after all. Another quick glance over the area told her that Reid was looking rather well today. After his abduction, he hadn't appeared well for weeks, but the last couple of days he had been looking more together; healthier. Hadn't he even put on a little weight? It couldn't do any harm, Prentiss thought with a slight smirk, and returned to her file.

Reid let his eyes fly over the paper in his hands. He hated catching up on his paper work. Sometimes he wished that he could write as fast as he read, but the shorthand he knew wasn't quick enough to keep up with his brain, and he would just end up writing gibberish that not even he could interpret.

His mind inevitably started wandering away from the loathed paper work. It wandered back to Nashville, to the moment he woke up in the desert. Lately, the young agent had been having flashbacks, remembering fragments of random moments during his time in captivity. He couldn't see any faces or hear any voices, but he could sense them; almost feel them.

Once again, the moment he had woken up in the desert flickered through his mind. Closing his eyes, he let the images come. He welcomed them now. Maybe there would be something there that he could interpret.

I slowly open my eyes. The bright light makes me wince and turn my head to the side to get away. The pounding and spinning in my head is only outweighed by the nausea sweeping through my body. Focusing my eyes on anything is a task close to impossible, but somehow I manage to make my gaze fall where I wanted it to. But what am I really seeing?

Sand.

And something else. What is that? Who is that? There's a man standing there. I can see him; he's standing right over there. Why aren't I calling out? I couldn't see him before, why can I see him now? I can see his face… I can see it! Where have I seen it before?

Oh, God…

I know who it is.

Reid's eyes snapped open and a small gasp escaped him through his widely parted lips. Feeling his heart quicken in his chest, the young agent almost threw the file on the table and fumbled after his bag. He knew, he knew, he finally knew! He had to go to Hotch, right now.

Papers scattered over the floor as he accidently tipped over his in-basket in an attempt to grab his PDA from his bag. Morgan rose.

"Whoa, hey kid – what's going on?" Taking a few steps towards the younger agent, Morgan could see the excitement in Reid's eyes. But it was mixed with something else that the older man couldn't quite interpret. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes I'm fine", Reid blurted. "I just have to talk to Hotch."

"Did something happen?" The concern in Morgan's voice was obvious, but Reid was not yet ready to talk to his team member about what he had remembered. He needed to talk to his superior first of all.

"No. Well, yes. I'll tell you soon." On long, swift legs the young agent hurried up the stairs towards his superior's door. Half way there, his phone rang and while still moving, he answered.

"Reid."

"Hello, Dr. Reid." The voice on the other end of the line was eerily familiar.

"Who is this?" Reid frowned while closing in on Hotch's office.

"I just called to tell you something."

"Who is this?" Reid repeated.

"I follow him to serve my turn upon him."

Reid stopped short in his tracks. His entire body froze and his eyes fixed on the wall far ahead of him. He didn't utter a word, but simply stood there, phone still by his ear, completely still.

"You know what to do", the voice chimed, and a soft click was heard on the other end of the line.

Reid gave a short nod to no one in particular and mechanically folded his phone and shoved it into his pocket. He took the few more steps towards Hotch's door and knocked it.

"Come in", came the dark, familiar voice from inside.

Reid opened the door in one move and stepped inside, eyes focused on Hotch. "I'm taking the rest of the day off", he said in a steady voice. "I have some personal business to tend to."

Hotch frowned. "Did something happen?"

"No. I will be back tomorrow."

With a somewhat skeptical expression on his face, Hotch leaned over the desk. "Alright. But Reid, if something is happening, you need to tell us."

"I know. I'll see you later." With that, the young agent turned on his heel and stepped back out, closing the door behind him. His steps weren't as quick as he returned to the bullpen and proceeded to pick up his messenger bag.

Morgan approached him from the side. "Can I know what's going on now?"

"It's nothing", Reid said pulling the bag over his head. "I just have to take the rest of the day off."

"How come? Is something wrong?"

"No, everything is fine. I'll see you tomorrow." Once again, Reid turned on his heel and left, ignoring Morgan's short call from behind.

Morgan watched his young colleague exit through the double glass doors. The steps Reid took now were nothing like the ones he had been taking when first flying up the steps towards Hotch's office. What had happened in that short period of time to make his demeanor change so radically?

He took the steps two at the time on his way up to Hotch's office. A short knock on the door later he stood in front of his superior's desk. "What's with Reid?"

Hotch looked up from his files. "He said he needed the day off for personal business."

"Something's not right, Hotch", Morgan said. "You should have seen him out there just a few moments ago; he looked like he was going to explode when he ran up here. Then he comes out like there's nothing going on in the world."

"Maybe he just calmed down."

"Come on, Hotch. Reid's not that good of an actor."

Hotch leaned over slightly. "Morgan, whatever's going on with Reid, it's none of our business. If he needs a personal day, he can take it. He's been through a lot."

Morgan nodded shortly. He knew Hotch was right. But he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

-o-o-o-

Reid sat in his car with the engine off. Darkness was slowly falling around him. The parking lot outside the mall was practically deserted, apart from the maintenance crews who were arriving to clean up whatever mess had been left inside the galleria during the day. Stars were beginning to appear in the sky and the moon slowly rose from behind the tree tops. Reid sat there, looking out into the darkness around him, hands on the steering wheel.

Suddenly, his phone rang in his shirt pocket. The young agent slowly took it out and looked at the caller ID. Flipping it open, he put it to his ear.

"It's high time", a voice spoke through the receiver, and then there was simply a click on the other end of the line.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, Reid released himself from the seat belt and stepped out of the car. Less than five seconds later, a car drove up beside him. He gingerly opened the back seat door and stepped in, closing the door behind him, and instantly the car started moving.

Silence reigned in the vehicle as it moved through the city, passing diners and all-night mini marts, streetwalkers and the officers arresting them.

The car finally stopped in front of a building. Not a word was spoken as Reid opened the door and exited the car. The moment he closed the door behind him, the car sped off. Turning towards the building, Reid walked up the short stairs and punched in a four digit code to the front door. The little metal plate gave a buzzing sound and a tell tale click revealed that the door was opened. Reid stepped inside.

One flight of stairs later, he was heading down a hallway with doors on both sides. He finally stopped in front of a door and knocked on it firmly.

Moments later, the door slid open.