Disclaimer: see my profile
A/n this is just a bit of fun I came up with yesterday. I don't know how many chapters it will be, but probably at least three. This is pure silliness is a result of pure boredom! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it.
Not Again!
When Reid opened his eyes to a splitting headache, he knew it had happened again. He looked up at the tall rows of crates and boxes all around him and sighed in frustration. Someone had kidnapped him. Again! Why? Who wanted him out of the way this time? How much torture would he have to endure?
He got to his feet from the very hard and dusty concrete floor. His back and left side ached from lying on the floor. He noticed that for once he wasn't tied up.
Yeah… That's great news except for the nearest door is probably locked up tighter then Fort Knox, Genius!
His inner voice could get very mouthy and nasty at times. He wondered if he should be concerned about that.
Why don't you try to get out of here instead of worrying about your mental health?
The problem was that he couldn't see any door near to where he stood, which looked like it might be in the middle of a very large warehouse.
Wow… You figured that one out all by yourself did you.
Someday, he and his brain were going to have a talk. In the meantime, he began walking down the center aisle between the boxes, avoiding discarded tools, and rope lying around on the floor as though someone might come back and pick them up.
He went left at the first junction and found that in a few steps, the path dead-ended at a brick wall. Well, that was a great decision. He turned around, headed back to where the original path crossed it, and headed right.
Why had someone done this to him?
They weren't on a case right now. In, fact the last thing he remembered was sitting on the couch in his living room with his laptop, working on the book he'd been trying to write for the last three years. Had he angered someone in his apartment complex?
The towers of boxes around him went onfor another five minutes till he hit another wall. So he hadn't been in the middle of the room after all, as the distance between the two outer walls hadn't been equal.
Lot of good that does you now, smart guy. How about yelling for help?
"Hey…" He yelled, and then cringed at the sound of his voice in the absolute stillness of the huge building.
After waiting several minutes for his startled brain to slow his galloping heart, he tried again, "Hey, someone let me out of here. I'm a federal agent."
Oh yeah… That'll scare 'em right out of hiding and into letting you go.
It was worth a try. He couldn't just wander up and down the aisles, or stand there doing nothing till the team had to come rescue him, again.
He'd walked back to the nearest junction and turned left again back the way he'd come. Everything looked the same, never ending stacks of boxes. At least his headache had backed off a little and his left side didn't hurt anymore. It was cold though… His hands were ice cold, but thanks to his sweater vest, he didn't feel the chill too much in the rest of his body.
"Let me go!" He tried shouting again even though he knew he'd been left alone. He could just tell by the feeling in the space around him.
The new corridor went on for a very long time with new junctions to the left and the right. One of the aisles housed a forklift, which he nearly missed as he walked by. Adrenaline flared in his gut when he saw it out of the corner of his eye. He stopped, turned back, and hurried down the junction to his right. As the machine came closer into view, his excitement grew. If he could get it started…
What are you going to do, ram down the door? You want to kill yourself in the process.
He ignored the voice of logic and reason as he looked inside the cap of the forklift. Unfortunately, the keys were gone. God knew he couldn't hot-wire it. If only Morgan were here. He sighed and wandered down the nearest junction. It went on for a very long time.
He began to wonder if he were having a very vivid dream. The obvious interpretation, if he believed in dream analysis, would be that he was feeling trapped and lost in his life. That couldn't be right… He thought as he crossed to another junction and stopped to lean against one of the huge crates to his left. He didn't feel trapped in his life. He liked his life. He had a family for the first time. His mother was taken care of by people that really seemed to care for her well-being. School was going good as it always did. The only thing bad was the damn novel he was trying to write about an FBI agent that had looks, brains, brawn and all the girls falling at his feet. To say that the story was all about the stuff he felt he didn't have in his life, never occurred to him.
He kicked back against on of the crates with the sole of his shoe. Now was not the time to worry about his book and the writer's block he'd been dealing with for months. He had to find a way out of here. He resumed his walk down the corridor until a large door finally came into sight. He had to fight the urge to run like the wind. It could be some kind of trap.
More than likely, it's locked up nice and tight from geeky genii.
He pulled on the door trying to jiggle the handle, but it wouldn't budge. He pounded on it and began to shout for help until his throat was raw and aching. He slapped his hand once more on the door, but no one responded to his pleas for help.
Of course not… Did you really think they would?
He decided to explore more of this huge warehouse. Maybe there was another door or window he could try. As he walked down the corridor, his mind reminded him that he hadn't looked for his cell phone. He patted his pockets down in vain. Of course, they'd taken the phone away from him.
He found his way to the other end of the warehouse but not another door. He looked at his watch. It said that it was two but he didn't know if that was two pm or am as all the lights overhead were artificial light. It didn't feel like it was after dark though.
How would you know?
The inner voice just wouldn't shut up so he decided to look at the crates. Maybe they were full of power tools or more useful to him, lots of fully charged cell phones. His stomach growled loudly. He'd been out long enough that he was starving.
Do you expect to find a vending machine here?
He decided to forget about it and get back to looking into what might be in the crates. If he could break one up, he might have a weapon to use. The problem was that all the crates he could see were nailed down tight, except for one that looked like someone had recently opened it, for some reason.
He looked inside and felt his insides jump. It was full of cardboard boxes with writing on the top that made his heart sing. He couldn't believe his luck. How could this have happened? Out of all the places and warehouses in the world, his kidnapper had locked him up in Heaven.
He pulled out one of the boxes, staggering a bit at it's weight and set it in the aisle. He rubbed his hands together in delight. This was going to be sweet, literally. He pulled off the tape on the box and opened it. His hand reached out for one of the smaller rectangular shaped boxes. The label proclaimed the contents inside as Ed Hardy Coffee Rocks.
He picked up the box and held it like a much-loved infant. He could smell the coffee and the milk chocolate that covered the wonderful caffeine goodness. He stomach and his brain screamed at him to rip into the box and stuff himself into oblivion.
Why don't you slow down and think before you just go hog-wild?
Right! He should slow down, because his favorite treat packed a wallop in the caffeine department. One box of them had 600 mg of caffeine. If he went nuts he'd be bouncing off the walls. He held the box up to his nose. His mouth began to water at the thought of the familiar taste. He decided that five pieces would be okay for now. He'd leave the rest for later because the constant caffeine boost would help him figure out a way to get out of this place.
Three minutes later, he popped number ten into his mouth. He leaned against the crate to his right ignoring the voice in his head that told him he should be worried and looking for a way out. His feeling of well being just couldn't be punctured by the reality of his situation. He slid down to the hard concrete floor of the warehouse and popped another, round and shiny, Coffee Rock into his mouth. Just a few more and he'd figure out the way out of there. Hotch would be so proud of him for getting out of trouble on his own.
The box was empty ten minutes later. His heart beat so fast he felt light headed, but he was feeling too good to care about the fact that he couldn't stop walking up and down between the rows of what had to be more of his precious favorite treat. He looked back at the box containing more Coffee Rocks and smiled. It was all his. He didn't have to share with anyone.
That's when he heard a familiar voice say to him. "Stop fooling around Reid."