Reid had yet to open his eyes, but he knew that something wasn't right. He could feel that he was in an upright position - sitting in a chair perhaps. He definitely was not at home in his bed, which is where he wished he could be.

Reid searched his memory for a clue as to what had happened and where he might be. The team had just finished a particularly long and gruesome case, and opted for a late flight home instead of staying one more night. They had the next few days off, and were looking forward to sleeping in their own beds that night. It was the middle of the night when Reid had pulled into his parking spot in his apartment's parkade. The last thing he remembered was getting out of his car and opening the back door to grab his messenger bag. He felt a sharp pain in his head, as if he had been hit my something, and he vaguely remembered the sensation of falling. He had been unconscious before his body had even hit the pavement.

Reid could still feel the pain radiating from his temple, and dry blood on the side of his face told him that some time had passed since he was struck. He couldn't feel any further injuries, but something definitely didn't feel right. He tried to open his eyes. It took an incredible amount of effort, but after a few seconds, his eyelids cracked open and he got the first look at where he was.

It appeared to be a partially finished basement. A light was on somewhere above his head. In front of him was a set of wooden stairs that led upwards to a door. On either side of the stairs, he could see small windows near the ceiling. It appeared to still be night, so he couldn't have been out for too long. The walls consisted unpainted drywall, and the floor seemed to be cement. He could see a furnace and water heater under the stairs. Reid tried to move his head to get a better look at the rest of the room, but it remained frozen in place. He tried to lift his hand to his head, but again it refused to listen to the signals his brain was sending. Reid's breathe quickened as the realization dawned on him that he was unable to move any part of his body, aside from his eyelids. He couldn't feel any restraints, though he was unable to look down at his body to confirm. Reid's mind was beginning to panic. What is happening to me? Where am I? Knowing that panic would get him nowhere, Reid took a second to collect himself. He forced himself to take deep breathes and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Don't panic. You're a profiler. Figure out what's going on. You can do this. When Reid felt like he had reassured himself as much as he could, he opened his eyes again.

Reid began assessing all of the sensations he was experiencing. It felt as though he was sitting in a wooden chair. His arms sat on armrests, and his feet touched the floor. The pain in his temple throbbed, and it was possible he had a concussion. He felt no other pain, except… No. It can't be. He felt a slight stinging coming from his left arm, and also felt that his long sleeve shirt had been rolled up on that side only. I've been injected with some sort of drug. Probably a neural inhibitor judging from my inability to move despite being completely conscious and relatively unharmed. Who would do this? Reid didn't have to wait long to find out though, because the basement door was opening.

Aaron Hotchner sighed as he looked at the clock in his vehicle after pulling into his driveway. It read 2:04am as he turned off the engine of his SUV, grabbed this briefcase from the passenger seat, and closed and locked the vehicle's door. He was happy that the team had all agreed to fly home instead of staying the night. All he wanted right now was to set his eyes on his son, Jack.

As he opened the door to his home, Aaron quickly made his way to the keypad to disarm the silent alarm. Jessica and Jack would both be sleeping and he didn't want to disturb them. After dropping his keys, jacket, and briefcase in the hallway, he headed to Jack's room. The young boy was sleeping soundly, clutching his Captain America action figure. Aaron made his way over to the bed and sat next to his sleeping son. As awful as the BAU's latest case had been, all of his worries melted away as he sat watching Jack sleep. Aaron planted a kiss on Jack's forehead, brushed his hand through Jack's hair, and whispered, "I love you, buddy." A few more seconds were spent staring at his son, before he reluctantly stood and headed to his own bedroom. As a single parent and a man with a very unpredictable work schedule, Aaron knew he had to sleep while he had the opportunity. As he changed into pajamas and got ready for bed, Aaron thought about what he and Jack would do for the next couple of days. It was Jack's summer vacation, and Aaron looked forward to having a few days off to spend with his son. He plugged his phone in and set it on his bedside table. Aaron resisted the urge to turn the ringer off, but silently hoped that the phone wouldn't wake him from his slumber and pull him away from his much earned time off. As Aaron climbed into bed and drifted to sleep, he decided that he would take Jack to the park the next day.

3:52am. That's what the clock beside Aaron's bed read when he heard his phone chime. Who would be texting me at this hour?

He turned on his bedside lamp in an effort to jolt himself awake, before grabbing his cellphone and unplugging it from the wall. "Multimedia Message" it said, from an unknown number. When he opened the message, a photo appeared that nearly made him drop his phone. He was out of his bed in a heartbeat, making his way to the landline phone on his dresser. He needed to keep his cell's line free, just in case. Aaron dialled a number he knew by heart.

The phone rang twice before he heard a very groggy voice pick up. "Sir, it's very early. Is everything okay?"

Aaron was already gathering clothes and getting himself ready as he talked. "Garcia, I need you to call Prentiss and JJ. The three of you need to be in the BAU conference room as quickly as possible. I'll call the rest of the team. We have a case."

Aaron could hear Garcia getting out of bed as she spoke. "Yes sir. I will call them and get them in to the office ASAP. It's bad, isn't it sir?"

"It's not good Garcia. I'll explain when everyone gets there. Make sure they hurry." Hotch hung up the phone and made similar calls to Rossi, and then to Morgan. His team members didn't ask a lot of questions, but he knew that they sensed something was up.

Hotchner took one last look at the image that had been sent to his cell phone. It was a picture of Reid. He was clearly unconscious and propped up in a chair. He was unrestrained, but his eyes were closed and a small trail of blood was visible on the side of his face. In his lap was a whiteboard with a message written on it in red marker. It said, "you can only watch."