Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any character associated with it, no copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Written for CCOAC's Stephen King Challenge. For a little while now, I've had a vague story idea swimming in my head. Five years after the end of season 7, Reid is no longer in the FBI and living out of a RV in Nevada near an Indian reservation. Emily finds him there and together they begin an adventure.
This writing challenge gives me the perfect excuse to breathe some lift into this shadowy plot bunny.
Some adventures begin with a phone call in the night. Other adventures begin with explosions and fanfare. This one, however, begins with two FBI agents banging on the door of an RV.
This particular RV was parked a few miles outside the city of Las Vegas, Nevada. Next to the door of the RV was a sign that said "Bag's End". What the agents didn't know was that this was the latest version of the sign. The sign used to say "The Isle of Misfit Toys", before that it said, "Avalon", and before that "441B Baker St." They didn't know any of the earlier versions of the signs, but they did know the identity of the man who owned the RV.
"Dr. Reid! Open the door Dr. Reid," one of them said.
Inside the RV, Dr. Spencer Reid groaned. He was still in bed. There was a time when he woke up early and came when called, but that was when he worked for the FBI, and he quit the FBI four years ago. Dr. Reid knew the two men would keep banging on the door until he answered. He briefly considered just yelling for them to go away, but he knew that wouldn't make them leave. So he threw on a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, and answered the door.
"Can I help you?" he asked in a casual tone.
"Dr. Reid?" one of the agents began,"We're from ..."
"The FBI office in Las Vegas? I know. I'm assuming Agent Bryson sent you. Or did Derek Morgan send you? In any case, whatever it is, I'm not interested."
"Dr. Reid, Agent Bryson sent us to take you to the office. He said to tell you it's important."
"No."
"He told us not to take no for an answer."
"Well, you're going to have to."
"Put some shoes on, you're coming with us."
"I'm really not."
"You don't have a choice."
"Careful. You have a witness." Dr. Reid pointed behind them. The agents turned around to see a Native American male in his 40s.
"Hey Dr. Reid. Is this a bad time?"
"Who's that," one of the agents asked.
"He's part of my legal team."
"You don't have a legal team."
"But he has a sister who lives on the reservation, and she is a lawyer. She also has half a dozen reporters on speed dial. Every so often he walks from the reservation to here. She'll call me when she realizes he's gone. If she can't get a hold of me, she'll start calling people until she finds him. Do you want to risk media exposure with someone from the reservation?"
The agents looked uncertain.
"I know," Dr. Reid said sympathetically," Agent Bryson wanted you to deliver me. But then you have a whole lot of unwanted publicity standing right there. I'll tell you what, I have to take him back to the reservation, it's in town. I'll stop by. I promise. If I don't, you can stop by tomorrow. The day after he wanders, his sister keeps a closer watch on him. So, if you stop by tomorrow, we won't be interrupted. How's that?"
The agents nodded and left.
The Native American walked up to the RV and smiled. "Hey Dr. Reid. I hope you're friends didn't leave on my account."
"Does your sister know you're here Longarrow?"
"I left her a note."
"Uh huh. I guess we better get you back home then."
"Not yet, we have to talk first."
"About what?"
"She's coming."
"Who's coming?"
"You know, The Woman with the Sad Eyes."
Spencer Reid met Longarrow when he came back home to Las Vegas. Longarrow's real name was John Rutherford, but he wouldn't answer to that name. He was a little bit off, and from the moment Reid met him, Longarrow said one day Reid would leave with a woman who had sad eyes and brunette hair. He didn't always talk about her, but every so often Longarrow would tell Reid she was coming.
Reid tried to find a pattern in it, but he never could.
Reid made breakfast for himself and Longarrow, then he drove his friend back to the Paiute Indian Colony. While they were driving in Reid's old pickup truck, his phone rang. It was Longarrow's sister, Megan.
"Spencer, is my brother with you?"
"We're on our way. I'm sorry, I should have called."
"It's all right, he did leave a note, so I knew where he was headed."
"You weren't concerned?"
"He always leaves the same note. 'Off to see the hermit crab. Be back soon.'"
It was a joke Reid made once, that living in a RV was like being a hermit crab. So Longarrow referred to Reid as 'the hermit crab'.
"Anyway, Megan said,"I should have known he was going to go see you. He was painting last night."
Longarrow was a skilled painter, and he had made several paintings. Some Reid had seen, but some Longarrow wouldn't show him. He always claimed it wasn't time.
When Reid got to Megan's house, Longarrow said,"come into the studio, Doc."
"Why?"
"It's time."
"Time for what?"
"To see her. I mean, she's coming soon, so you should be able to recognize her, you know?"
He showed Reid into the small shed behind his sister's house where he painted. There, on an easel, was his latest painting. It was a picture of Reid, in front of a burning building. Standing next to him was a woman with raven-black hair and soulful eyes. The woman was clearly, Emily Prentiss.