Plutobaby494: Alrighty, this is still my first Criminal Minds fic! And I debated with myself about changing this fic but I read through it and realized that it had holes in it as big as Swiss cheese! So I am redoing this fic as you can tell! And there will be some changes to this fic in some places and in other places it will still be the same! So I hope you like this new story!!
This is right after Revelations! Anything past it hasn't happened yet!
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or the characters! Just the DVDs!!
ON WITH THE FICCIE
Chapter One
The moonlight shadowed his body as he buried the shovel deeper into the hard ground. He looked up to see the form of a man, staring coldly down on him.
Reid grimaced as he forced his tired body to shovel another pile of dirt away from his waiting grave. He looked up one more time and into the distant trees, where he hoped he could see his team coming to end this torture.
"I didn't tell you to stop, boy," Charles Hankel's harsh voice broke through the still night. Reid looked up at him before turning back to the shovel in his hands.
Flashlights broke through the treetops behind Hankel's body, and Reid let out a tiny sigh of relief. They were coming for him, they got his message.
Reid flinched under Charles cold eyes and resumed digging, now able to hear the muffled sound of footsteps and his name being called out.
He looked up one more time, to make sure this was not a dream and watched in dismay as the flashlights started to disappear and the voices fading. He straightened his shoulders and stopped digging, ready to call out for his team to come back, to save him.
Charles's bark of laugher rang in his ears and he looked up to find the man crouching in front of him, holding the pistol in his hand. The knife was tucked away in his trousers.
"No one's coming for you, boy. I am going to bury you alive," he said, a twisted madness crossing his face.
"No," Reid moaned looking back towards the trees hoping that what he said wasn't true. They just took wrong turn and were coming back for him.
Charles laughed again and stood, cocking the pistol at Reid.
"Let see if God's on your side," he said, before squeezing the trigger and watching as the gun fired, sending the lone bullet towards he beaten body.
Spencer Reid jerked awake in a cold sweat, his eyes open wide as the lingering scenes of his nightmare clung to him. He looked over at his clock sitting on the nightstand and groaned as the bright red numbers glared back at him. It was early, too early for anyone to be considered conscious. It was 2:30, meaning that he had only been asleep for a few hours.
He threw his sweat-soaked sheets off his body and swung his legs over the side of his bed. It was no use trying to get back to sleep, it wouldn't help. He rubbed his eye sockets as he rested his head onto his hands, the oncoming headache already pounding behind his eyes.
He'd been having the same nightmare for a few weeks now, the flashlights in the forest disappearing as his team left him to die, Charles Hankel's laughter as he towered over him. It was a vicious cycle that he'd been stuck in and could not see any possible way out.
Moonlight peaked through the curtains of the window into his dark apartment, silhouetting his lanky form. He couldn't help the shudder that went through his body as pictures rushed through his mind, and thanks to his eidetic memory he remembered them clearly.
Pictures of the cemetery where he had been held captured by Tobias, the smell of rotting fish, the feeling of dirt under his fingers as he dug his own grave. He remembered the moonlight on his back and the feeling of the shovel in his hands.
Reid forced himself to stand and rushed towards the bathroom as whatever he'd had for dinner that night came back up. He fell onto his butt, sitting next to the toilet and leaned his burning head against the cold porcelain as his dry heaves subsided.
Two months had passed since his encounter with Hankel and he had just returned to work a few days ago. Reid was no stranger to these flashbacks, as he had started having them as soon as Hotch and his team had sent him home.
His apartment, though he barely lived in it, always seemed like a refuge that he could hide from the horrors his work dealt with. Well furnished but not over crowded, he always had felt like this was a safe place.
When Morgan and Gideon had dropped him off it had seemed cold and dark. For so long wondered why it felt different. Why he wanted to run away from it.
This apartment was a symbol of who he once was; the carefree and naïve genius. The team didn't know it, but a part of Reid had died that night. While working with the BAU, he had gotten used to seeing the bodies of dead men, woman, and children but he didn't ever think that he would become one of them.
Reid slowly stood and grabbed the porcelain sink as his body swayed and his world spun. Using the sturdy sink he balanced himself and looked into the mirror.
A ragged man looked back at him. Dark bags hung under his tired bloodshot eyes, and his skin was pale as the moon outside his window. He wiped the remaining bile that had stuck to the corners of his mouth and felt the stubble that had collected on his chin. He'd had to shave one of these days.
He opened the medicine cabinet looking for the Advil to cure his throbbing headache and stopped when he found the clear bottles of Diladud that he had stole from Tobias.
Reid paused as he stared at those bottles. They taunted him, almost screaming at him to take a dose. His breaths deepened as he felt his heart start to race.
"Tell me it doesn't help,"
Tobias's voice floated back to him, and he found himself grabbing the two small bottles.
He almost had the syringe in his hands when he found his head. Angrily he threw the bottles back into the cabinet and slammed it closed, making the mirror on the other side crack.
Reid stared at himself through the crack mirror and sighed, feeling his sudden anger drain, leaving his body exhausted at all the energy he spent. He had surprisingly stayed sober, not once using the addictive drug. But he found himself weakening against its pull. Each day it grew harder to refuse the escape that it promised.
He knew that one day, his resolve would weaken. He was weak and he knew it. His dad was weak, that's why he left. He had always prided himself in being the strong one, the one that stayed but now he realized he was just like his dad. He couldn't take care of his mom, so he dumped her in a mental institute. He was just as weak as his dad.
A chirping sound grabbed his attention and he looked towards the living room where he had thrown his messenger bag after returning home. He recognized his cell phone tune, and sighed.
No one called him, unless they had a new case. He groaned as he realized he would have to face his team again and pretend his was fine.
Because he wasn't fine, he knew it. He was falling and he couldn't get up. Somewhere deep down, Reid wanted his team to realize that he was falling, but also hoped they didn't.
He was supposed to be strong, damnit. He was a profiler, and if he couldn't help himself than he deserved no help from his team.
Reid splashed his face with cold water and gave his reflection a glance before leaving to answer his phone.
He sluggishly picked up his cell and pushed the call button, pressing the machine by his ear.
"Reid," he answered, tiredly.
"Hey, it's Hotch," he heard his boss answer from the other line almost hesitantly. Reid nodded silently, knowing that no one would see him.
"We got a new case," he said, and Reid pinched the bridge of his nose as his headache came back full force.
"I'll be right in," Reid said, hanging up the phone before Hotch could say anything more.
The young man sighed again and ran a hand through his long brown hair. The grandfather clock that his mom had left him, ticked as it counted by the seconds that Reid stood there rubbing his aching head.
Finally he moved walking back into his bedroom and dressing in his usual sweater vest and slacks. After grabbing his messenger bag that held his credentials and practically his whole life, he walked towards the front door.
His hand was on the door knob and the door halfway open when he stopped and looked towards the bathroom, where the Diludad still sat.
After a short battle with himself, with him almost exiting his apartment without the drug, he cursed his weakness and ran back into the bathroom, grabbing both the syringe and bottles of clear heroine. He stuffed them into the side of his pack and grabbed the Advil as well, pocketing it with the other medications. He ran back out and shut his apartment door behind him, locking it.
This was going to be a long day, and he could already feel his headache gaining force.
&
Hotch dropped his cell phone back onto his desk, and stared at it. He had noticed Reid's behavior and couldn't help but worrying for the younger man. The whole team thought of Reid as their youngest, and wouldn't think twice before putting themselves in danger to protect him.
"Is he on his way?" Gideon's voice asked, from the doorway to his office. Hotch nodded and walked out with the older profiler on his tail.
"I'm worried about him, Jason," Hotch said as he rounded the corner and walked towards the briefing room.
Gideon nodded at his back, "We all are, Aaron,"
Hotch stopped suddenly and turned to face the older man.
"Do you think he'll be ok?"
Gideon paused for a second and watched as a sleepy Morgan, JJ, and Emily walk into the BAU office. They all stopped at their respected desks, and than looked up at their senior officers as if waiting for a command.
"Meet in the Briefing room, in five," Hotch said his voice authoritative. They all silently nodded and walked up the stairs and into the round table room.
Hotch turned back to Gideon, who still hadn't answered his question. He was about to ask his question again but the person of their conversation came walking into the office.
Reid dropped his messenger bag on his desk and ran his hands through his long hair. Seeing that everyone was already assembled in the briefing room he walked over.
Giving them the tiniest of nods hello, he passed them and walked into the briefing room.
"I don't know," Gideon said truthfully, watching the young man go.
Reid hadn't talked to any of them about what happened. They knew a little because of the video camera that Tobias had set up, but what went on behind the scenes only Reid knew. They hoped that he would open up and share but with the passing of days Reid only pulled more into himself. They were on thin ice and had to tred very carefully in this situation, they didn't want to push Reid farther away.
Hotch said nothing as he stared at Reid through the door of the briefing room, sitting down in a chair staring off into the distance.
He hoped that he would be ok. He saw very little of the social awkward, genius that they all knew and loved. Reid may have survived the ordeal, but he knew that things were far from back to normal.
TO BE CONTINUED
Plutobaby494: Well, what do you think? I decided not to change this one too much because I really liked this chapter when I first wrote it! The next one will up soon! I plan on working on it tonight and hopefully it'll be up before the end of the week!!
And I know that so many have reviewed for the original story and I am thankful to all of you! I hope you review this story because I need all the encouragement I can get! Thanks to those who reviewed on the last chapter of he original story!!
PLEASE R&R