A/N: So I am completely in love with Criminal Minds, especially Reid! This is my first Criminal Minds fan fic, so I hope you like it! And please review!
I want to say a massive thankyou to my beta Cliara Aedai! You're advise and help has been completely amazing!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Criminal Minds, or the fabulous Dr Reid.
Re-identified
Prologue
'I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.' - Maya Angelou
Dr Spencer Reid woke earlier than usual, the orange glow of the morning sun outside barely peering over the horizon. He stared at the plain white ceiling for a couple of moments, begging for sleep to return. He turned from side to side, trying to find a comfortable position to drift off once again, pulling the duvet up under his chin. But no position he tried was having the desired result, and half an hour later he finally gave in. There was simply no getting back to sleep, so instead he made the decision to have an early start, albeit half-heartedly.
He pushed the covers aside, rose to his feet, and stretched. Arms raised above his head, he groaned as his muscles adjusted from their overnight lack of use. Getting dressed was a slow process, but he persevered anyway, pulling on one blue sock and one green from their place inside the colour coded draw, buttoning up his neatly white pressed shirt and grabbing a striped woollen vest.
Entering the kitchen, he filled a bowl with cereal, drizzling milk over thee top before settled down at the table, book in hand. He flicked though page after page, slurping up his breakfast as he allowed his mind to become engrossed in the words before him. Eyes scanning each page within seconds, any normal person would have been unable to take in more than a sentence or two in such time. And even those sentences read would have been difficult to understand without constantly referring to a dictionary, given the complex language used. But Dr Reid was certainly not 'any normal person'. After finishing his lengthy breakfast, he stood to clean his dishes, however a noise from behind made him jump in surprise, and he spun around quickly, nearly sending the bowl in his hand crashing to the floor.
Reid scanned the room, a frown etched on his face as he searched for the source of the unexpected sound. When nothing seemed out of place, he dismissed the sound for the wind outside, and returned to the task at hand, mentally cursing himself for such paranoid behaviour.
Around half an hour later he placed the finished book back in its place on the alphabetically ordered bookcase that reached from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. Glancing down at his watch, he decided it was a reasonable time to set off for work. He laced up his black converse sneakers, picked up his worn, brown leather bag and heading back into his bedroom to collect his gun, holster and ID.
As he entered the room, he noticed his bedside lamp had been moved slightly from where he'd last left it. Such things irked Reid's slightly perfectionist nature, and he moved to straighten it to its rightful position. However, the sudden sound of the door creaking behind him distracted the doctor from his trivial task. He turned around purposefully; reaching for his gun that he knew was resting on the side table closest to him. But before he had a chance to grasp it, he was hit hard on the back of the head.
He cried out in surprise, falling to the ground with a painful thump. The gun just an arms length away was snatched up by a masked figure just as he tried to reach for it once again, in the desperate attempt to defend himself. He held a hand up to his searing head, and was alarmed when he felt warm blood dripping down his arm.
"What do you want?" he mumbled incoherently, his head spinning, just as the figure raised the gun. He barely had time to focus his blurring eyes before the cold metal of the gun made contact with his head, and Dr Spencer Reid was engulfed by blackness, eyes rolling back as he slumping to the ground.