SOLD
Summery: He only wantedd a gallon of milk, but he ended up in the wrong place, at the right time.
Disclamer: I do not own Criminal Minds, or its wonderful characters.
Rating: T for now, i guess.
[a/n This is my very first fic, i know it isnt the best, but heree you go!
-1 They were prepared, everything was planned. The time, the location, the boy whom they had watched as per command, whom they had stalked. Every night, around ten-thirty, he would walk down the terrace's sidewalks to head toward the bus, their van would be waiting. They had orders, and there would be consequences if they were not followed.
Special agent Dr. Spencer Reid arrived home mercifully early. The last case had been simple, exceedingly so for him, but they had done their job and saved a roomful of innocent people. But the unsub, he had been terrifying, especially his eyes. So dark, empty. Reid shook the image away, ready to be rid of the case.
He was hungry and tired. The girls had gone out for drinks, the guys were all out on their own. Reid had contemplated staying with the girls, wanting to be more social, but he was tired. So he simply walked through his tidy apartment, toward the kitchen. Then he went to the cupboard, pulling down a box of Trix cereal. Not the most gracious dinner, but it would more then work.
But then an unspeakable tragedy fell upon Reid, something of the utmost horror. There was no milk in the refrigerator. How could he not have the one thing that he used most often? He paused, there were other things he could have eaten, but he wanted that cereal, and a late night stroll would be good for him. To be outside roaming, not on the hunt for a madman. his car was in the shop, so he could not drive. It seemed a good idea.
Jeremy was annoyed, he knew that he would be late for the bus, and even though Josie had promised to drive him home, he was still annoyed. He had had plans, Devin and Tyler were waiting, but Josie was going through a hard time, and she needed him.
So he would stay with her, as long as she needed. After all, she had done the same for him.
Spencer Reid walked into an out of the way gas station and went strait for the milk. He had not meant to travel so far from home, but the calm of the night and the constant turning of his mind had kept him walking. Though, he did not mind. He grabbed the milk, paid for it, and walked into the night. Not wanting to walk all the way home, he headed for the bus stop.
It had happened so quick, so unexpected. The terrace was full of people, the bus stop eight feet away, when Reid felt the world shift. Hands. From no where, there were hands all around him. He had made to scream, when a hand, rough and smelling of onions sealed his breath. Reid dropped the milk, and the gallon burst open. He fought to pull his gun from his bag, it fell to the concrete, unnoticed.
Within a matter of seconds, he was within a van, a thick blindfold tied across his eyes while another cloth was forced into his mouth. He trembled as his hands were forced behind his back and restrained with flex cuffs. He felt a light turn toward him, bright and harsh. He could hear three separate men speaking, their words incomprehensible at firsts, and then he heard a growl of agitation, and tried to shrink away from it.
"This isn't Jeremy."