A/N: So, this is my first Criminal Minds-fic. I had this story in my head for the longest of time before I eventually jotted it down. Now I feel sort of compelled to post it, because I keep going back to it, tweaking it, editing it, changing it back and so on... For one thing, if I don't post it, I will edit this into crap. Second, I need to "get it out of my system". I have two other fics I'm updating, and the updating isn't coming along as quickly as I'd like to because I keep returning to Reid. Okay. This is what it is. A peek into Reid's mind. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. Lila and Reid would *so* have gotten together if I had anything to say about it.
"I'm just wondering if this feeling I have will ever go away?"
It didn't. It slowly faded, yes, but not before playing its part. For a little while, the bad dreams that had disturbed his nights, were pushed aside. Spencer Reid knew that dreams were merely manifestations of the subconscious, issues the brain worked through during the time spent asleep. They filled their purpose.
But this dream...
It wasn't about issues. He knew perfectly well what function it served. He'd sleep through the nights and wake up well-rested. He'd keep his focus during the day, and not abuse coffee for the sake of making it through the waking hours. They all noticed. Derek first, of course. There was nothing that man didn't notice. No one said anything about it, they just assumed that the nightmares had passed or that he had learned to deal with them.
Reid would eagerly look forward to going to bed; another silly notion, because dreams just couldn't be conjured up. It wasn't possible. Shouldn't be possible. Sure, people had recurring dreams, waking up with a sense of dèjá vu. The very nightmares that plagued him were recurring. Most recurring dreams were, in fact, nightmares. Dreams of forgetting an exam, or appearing naked in a public place. But his nightmares were... something more, and Reid just couldn't grasp what significance the elements of the dreams held.
This new recurring dream wasn't a nightmare, nothing that triggered anxiety. It was peaceful, and it was the same scenario everytime, four or five times a week. Water, cool against his skin. Heat and soft lips against his. A bright light obscuring the other person, but he could hear her whisper through the shroud.
"Keep me close..."
Lila.
She had followed him home from Los Angeles and taken up residence in his dreams, where the precious minutes in the pool were replayed over and over again. It would even stop just before he told Lila about Michael Ryer, her manager. It was the perfect dream, strong enough to push aside the nightmares, even some of the most gruesome aspects of the cases he worked, and soothing enough to keep him knocked out for seven full hours, always ending with the same promise.
"Right here, it's just you and me."
And then...
Relapse.
He had become so accustomed to the dream about Lila, so used to the process of getting ready for bed, reading and then falling asleep and landing in the dream. After months of uninterrupted nighttime bliss, the ominous nightmares returned, much like they did only weeks after Gideon gave him the photograph of the girl he saved in 1985.
That first night when the nightmares came back, and he woke up, covered in cold sweat, he briefly considered calling Lila. Maybe he just needed to refresh his memory, hear her voice, and he'd be fine? Maybe she could... Spencer had already picked up his phone and had Lila's number on the screen, ready to press "call" when he changed his mind. No. He wouldn't pull Lila into this. These were his issues, his problems to solve. These nightmares were his demons, and only he could confront them. Lila had already played her part, he couldn't ask for more. She'd granted him sanctuary, and he'd used up his time there.
"Back on the coffee?" Derek asked him in a low tone the day after the dreams returned.
Reid was standing in the pentry, pouring massive amounts of sugar into his coffee cup. He didn't answer, but placed the can of sugar back into the cabinet. Derek patted him on the shoulder, in a "Fine, I won't snitch this time, come talk if you want to"-kind of way, then walked off to his desk. Reid sipped on his coffee, feeling a jolt go through him as the caffeine and sugar kickstarted his system. Yeah, talk. Dream interpretations with Derek. Even with so called professionals, that was not what he had in mind in means of solving this.
When he came back from Georgia and for the first time used the Dilaudid, there was a small part of him that hoped maybe Lila would come to him again, that maybe once reality let go, he'd find his way back to her, to the pool. She had come to him when he needed some peace of mind the most, and right then, he really needed something to escape to. But the drugs only dropped him into a black hole. Sometimes, the nightmares pushed through the void, turning into distorted images that he vaguely remembered when he came down from the high. But he never saw Lila in the haze.
He knew then he'd never dream of her again, and probably never see her again. That feeling he'd felt bubbling inside after Lila's stalker case would slowly diminish, while the nightmares and hardships would live on.
He'd figure it out eventually, what the dreams meant. Even though he'd seen and experienced some depraving things during his time in the BAU, Reid had a feeling that the bad dreams stemmed from something else, something much more sinister. He was glad he'd found a temporary refuge from them, even though it had to end. It would help him refocus, even when things got blurry.
American medical researcher Jonas Salk said: "I have had dreams and I have had nightmares, but I have conquered my nightmares because of my dreams."
A/N: Hope I didn't completely butcher Reid. Please, leave a review and tell me what you think!