Spencer Reid looked in the mirror of his bathroom, frowning as he sipped of vodka from a ice filled tumbler, the bottle not far from his person as he gazed at his reflection. Hollow brown eyes greeted him along with rich brown hair and prominent cheek bones coupled with a long narrow nose that tapered into a pixie point, thrown into shadow his facial structure took on a haunted look, refecting his inner feelings at the moment.
It had started this morning with the paranoia of being followed while on the subway, but had progressed into a feeling that was almost tangible in its potency causing him to constantly look over his shoulder and to keep a hand on his gun. It was completely ridiculous, this feeling, but at the same time completely rational to think someone had found him. Closing his eyes Spencer went over the day in his mind looking, trying to find anyone who was out of place or suspicious during his daily routine. Nothing, everything was in place right down to the look Morgan always gave him in the morning when he walked into the bull pen. The only thing out of place was the fight between him and Derek in the afternoon, before work was over.
They had planned on spending the weekend at one of Derek's properties, but due to Spencer's growing paranoia he had decided to not go. Morgan was angry about it, he had spent the last few days preparing the house for the weekend, only to now find Reid backing out at the last minute. The conversation then turned ugly when Spencer brought up the time when Derek had stood him up at a restuarant on their two month anniversary, when Derek himself had made the reservation, the rest of the comments went downhill from there, each picking on the faults of the other til, they had given up and both gone their seperate ways.
Sighing, the slight man pulled away from the mirror, downing the rest of his vodka, staring at his reflection reminding himself of who he was. He was tired of this game, Spencer realized, tired of the things he had to do for the government, tired of the people he always had to run from, he was tired of being Spencer Reid.
Someone knocked on Spencer's door as he refilled his glass, the sound making the glass in his hand ping. Quietly the young man made his way to the door stepping over the stacks of books that lay on the floor, he should really clean his apartment this weekend. Opening the door revealed a tall man in his early thirties late twenties with a hard face and small blue eyes and a noticeable scar on his chin, stared back at Spencer, the barrel of his gun pointed at the young man's chest.
"Goodbye, Dani."
Morgan woke in a cold sweat, panting heavily from a nightmare he couldn't remember.
Spencer stopped breathing.