Arcadia, Michigan

Holiday Inn

1:14 AM

Toss, turn. Toss, turn. He was asleep, but barely. Dreams, no – sensations, flashed by occasionally. Ass grabbed. Warm, foul breath traveling down his beck from behind. A dirty hand over his mouth. Scratches down his bare back. And penetration.

It had been three months since Reid had been released from Milburn and the memories were as vivid as ever. He often wondered if telling his friends, his team, what really happened behind those walls would help, but he was too ashamed. He was an FBI agent with decades of experience and he couldn't even protect himself on a daily basis. Sure, he had finally been able to get himself into solitary, but unknown to the team he spent his first few weeks as a toy for the other inmates.

Another hour passed. He was finally asleep, but he was back there in Milburn during the worst of it. Three inmates in his cell had forced him against the wall, gagged him, punched him in the gut and threw him onto his cot. He told his bureau assigned therapist about it, but he only told her about the physical abuse. Now they were pulling down his scrubs.

No, no, no.

He knew what was coming. He heard the laughter.

But this time he threw them off of him. His strength was otherworldly. And his revolver was there. He grabbed it and ran out of the cell. Strangely enough no one else was around. No guards, no inmates, just him. He ran down a flight of stairs and then another.

Right in the center of the dark hallway he reached was Cat. She was laughing – laughing in that mocking, menacing way that made him want to crush he fragile neck. He pointed the revolver, but someone else screamed. Someone from another cell? But it was a woman. It didn't make any sense. Before he had any more time to think he was pinned to the floor by a powerful force.

REID!

What was happening?

REID! (They screamed his name even louder.)

His eyes flashed open and he was face to face with Morgan, pinned to the floor of the motel hallway floor. He was so confused.

"Reid, what the fuck are you doing, man?" Morgan asked, his voice pained and also confused.

He glanced to the spot where Cat had stood. A young woman cowered next to a cart filled with toilet paper, towels and cleaning supplies. She was crying.

"I… I don't know," he rasped.

Arcadia, Michigan

Arcadia Police Station

3:46 AM

"Where did this come from? I thought he was ready. He told us he was fine. The goddamn therapist cleared him," Rossi exclaimed as he, Morgan and Emily stared at Reid through the one-way glass barrier of an interrogation room.

A local detective finished interviewing him ten minutes ago and they were waiting for the officer's higher up team to deliberate on how to proceed. It was a unique situation. They were there to help the local authorities catch a serial arsonist – simple enough case. They had already narrowed down a few strong suspects. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"PTSD can have delayed reactions," said Emily, disconnected from her words as she stared at one of her dearest friends shivering behind the glass despite the blanket draped over him.

"I don't get it though. We've been on at least, what? Twelve cases? We kept him out of the field as much as possible. He's never shown any signs that he would do something like this… I've never even seen him sleepwalk before," Morgan retorted.

The detective finally rounded the corner and met them in the hall.

"Good news – they're not going to press charges. The cleaner was shaken up, but she has a husband in Iraq – said she understood the circumstances," he explained.

Each BAU member breathed a silent sigh of relief. All they needed was Reid back in a courtroom.

"But we're going to have to move you all to another hotel. And we can't have him on this case," he continued.

"We understand completely," said Emily with sincerity.

In all honesty she had a feeling something wasn't right with her friend. He was acting almost too normal. When Maeve was murdered his reaction was expected, but such resilience after what he had gone through the last year just didn't make sense. It was obvious he wasn't telling them the whole story of how he was coping and also what happened inside the prison.

"We hope he gets the help he needs," the detective said with a brief nod and a weak smile before unlocking the door.

Emily took the lead and slowly approached Reid, looking up at her with guilt in his eyes.

"Let's get you home," she said calmly.