Author's Note:
This is set about a month after the Tobias Hankel case. It should be pretty clear what parts he writes and what parts are just thoughts, but essentially all of the italics never get to the paper. I apologize if it's a bit OOC, I'm still working on the BAU team. I only recently started writing with them. =3
No, I don't own the show or Reid. -sigh- If I did they wouldn't be half as awesome.
Hey, mom;
I know it's been a while since I wrote last, and I apologize for that. The BAU has been busy lately; there's barely been a day between cases. There was one about a month ago that was stressful on the entire team. It seemed like this ordinary profile at the beginning, but you know what usually happens with those.
He abducted me, mom…that's not supposed to happen. We had the profile all worked out, we knew he was submissive and might try to run, at the worst. It was totally against the profile. How could no one see…?
I know you hate hearing about my job and the people we catch, but no one else here really talks about this one anymore and that worries me. It's not one I can easily forget. I doubt they've simply put it out of mind, but it's a topic everyone avoids.
It hurt. It hurt so much, all the time. Charles, he-he wouldn't stop. If he wasn't killing me slowly he would be killing someone else quickly.
The man was identified fairly quickly. That was a plus to the entire case. We didn't spend nearly as much time and energy just profiling. The worst part was hunting him down. I felt sorry for him, mom. Part of him didn't actually want to kill those people. The other part was stronger, though. He couldn't really resist it. His name was Tobias and if he hadn't been so sick he could have just been another suspect.
I had to choose…He made me pick who he killed. I sent that couple to their deaths, mom, just because I was scared. I'm an FBI agent. We're supposed to 'protect and serve', right? Who was I protecting when I told him the far right screen? Myself?
We did finally catch him. He was killed, unfortunately; he left us no choice and he was shot by one of the BAU. You know how much I hate it when it comes to that, but I suppose it's part of the job, right? Sometimes you can't talk a man off of a ledge. He just has to jump and we can only try and make sure he doesn't take anyone off with him.
I was so scared. Oh God, mom, I was scared. It's not like four years of FBI training can prepare you for being tortured by a schizophrenic serial killer. I watched him kill those people, I watched them die…and I could only think how I wished he would just use that knife on me and get it done quickly.
We actually got a short time after that for a break. It wasn't really a break, though. JJ had to go to the hospital to get a dog bite treated and they actually kept me overnight to make sure there wasn't anything that needed serious attention. I don't know what they were worried about. I hurt my foot on the field while the team was looking for Tobias, but it wasn't anything that required surgery. I was on crutches for a few weeks and that in itself was almost a vaction. You can't be on the field using crutches.
It was so close…So close to dying, to becoming just another victim to study. I have to wonder what the team would've found out by my death. Could they profile him better? That was one of my main hopes; if I were killed it might give them that final piece of the puzzle, the last thing they needed to find him.
I know you worry about me, mom. It's a rough job, I admit, but there are surprisingly few agent deaths on the field. In normal circumstances we might get a standoff or an attempted hostage situation but it's incredibly rare for one of us to get hurt.
These weren't normal circumstances…
Be nice to the nurses; they have enough real situations to handle without you faking a few. I promise to visit you once there's a bit of time between cases.
After I get off the drugs…You can't see me like this, mom. It's hardly me anymore.
"Hey, Pretty Boy."
Reid blinked, glancing up quickly with his pencil still poised over the paper. Morgan was standing a few feet away with a duffel bag over one shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"You ready to go? The plane's leaving in ten minutes." The younger agent blinked a few times, pulling his mind away from the letter. It took a surprising amount of concentration to write one these days. He always gave his mother news about the job but never any details that might worry her too much. With this one, though…
"Yeah, I'm-tell Hotch I'll be there in a few. I just have to finish this." Morgan nodded slowly, his dark eyes betraying the frown he tried to keep back. He glanced at the paper and a brief look of comprehension flashed across his face.
"Are you telling her?" the black man asked quietly, unconsciously adjusting the strap on his shoulder. Reid looked blankly down at the writing for a moment before giving a short, humorless laugh.
"Would you?" His friend did frown then before sighing as he turned back toward the door.
"I guess I wouldn't, at that. I'll see you on the plane." The bull-pen was silent then and it was a few minutes before the pencil started scratching at the paper again.
Tell everyone reading over your shoulder that Spencer said 'hi'. I hope I'm able to see you soon.
I was scared…I was rescued, but it's like I'm still trapped there. I can't talk to you, I can't talk to the team…What did he do to me, mom?
I love you, mom.
I need help. Morgan, Gideon, Hotch…they know something's wrong but they don't want to bring it up. They used to bug me if I missed a night of sleep, but now…why do they never talk about it?
~Spencer
I need help…
The pencil clattered softly as it was placed back in a cup on the corner of the desk and Reid glanced over the paper once before folding it. He knew if he thought about it too long he would try to add something or give her some reason to believe it wasn't just an average stressful time at the BAU. One hand moved automatically to grip at his right elbow and the most recent mark smarted slightly before he let go, pushing himself to his feet.
Another case. Another group of victims to examine. Another chance to remember how close he had come to being one of them.
With a small grunt Reid swung his bag onto his shoulder and strode out into the hall, the door swinging softly shut behind him.
Just another case.
"Scars remind us of where we've been, they don't have to dictate where we're going." ~ David Rossi
It's short, it's probably OOC...but tell me what you think! I adore working with Reid, he's certainly my favorite character. =3 Kudos!
~Waggy