Hey all! Or, Bonjour! I'm back from a trip to England and France, which was lovely! My 4th time to England, and my 3rd to France.
Anyway, on with the story.
March 13, 2011. Police Department of Quantico.
Dwyre leaned back in his seat, contemplating his next move. The agent in front of him he recognized, at least by name. Hotchner was the name that Dr. Reid would mumble occasionally, along with several other names. He also knew that Dr. Reid was an F.B.I. agent, with his ID. Any idiot could figure out that Hotchner worked with Dr. Reid. Dwyre could use this, if he knew how to play his cards.
So the question was, to tell, or not to tell? If he didn't tell, Dr. Reid could die and he could never find out how his mind reacted to the year and a half of social isolation and lack of sunlight. So his purpose would never be fulfilled. But, Reid was being taped. If Dwyre didn't tell and they never could accuse him, he could get home and watch the tapes.
He decided to let the name slip, for a little fun. He had nothing to lose anyway. Plus, he might get to speak to Dr. Reid when he was found, if alive.
Hotchner stared down Dwyre. He had just told Dwyre that they had evidence against him. Dwyre had reacted only a little nervously, and just looked like he was deep in thought.
Hotch decided to let Dwyre speak first. The more he spoke without a lawyer present, the more info they could get on him.
Dwyre looked up, staring Agent Hotchner in the face. "Agent Hotchner. Well, that does sound familiar. I've heard it many times in the past year or so. But it wasn't Hotchner, just Hotch. Is that a nickname, or just a short name? Do you still think of it as a formal name, or a casual friendly name? I couldn't tell, when it was mentioned, the party speaking was asleep." He stared at Hotchner, gauging a reaction, just like Hotch was to him.
Hotch backtracked. How could he possibly have heard his name? He didn't know this man, and neither did anyone he knew. Otherwise he would have heard, the way this story was all over the news.
"Don't play games with me Dwyre. Who are you keeping in your house? The sooner you tell us, the more lenient a court will be with you, and the more willing we will be to tell a jury that you cooperated." Said Hotchner coldly.
Dwyre did not break eye contact. "I'll give you a few hints, because I happen to like a challenge. Your victim is male. He is living, or was when I left. And he shouldn't be for much longer. There's three hints for you. Now, why don't you phone your tech analyst and have her run up a list of names?"
Dwyre watched with satisfaction as Hotch's face held changed for a split second. It could have been coincidence that Dwyre knew the team had a tech analyst. In fact, it probably was. But he couldn't help a cold feeling rise up in his gut about Dwyre. "Dwyre, I've already told you. I don't play games. Tell me straight up who you are holding captive in your home-"
"Ah, Agent Hotchner. That's where you're wrong. I never said he was in my home, now did I?" Dwyre interrupted smoothly, smiling. The door opened and JJ appeared, looking at Hotch and noticeably ignoring Dwyre.
"Sir, the lab has some info for you. On the fingerprints found on some used syringes," she said, trying to scare Dwyre. Rossi and Morgan, who had been watching the interrogation, told her to do it, trying to induce a reaction.
It didn't work. Hotch nodded and walked out, following JJ to the detectives in the observing room. Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan stood with detective Morris, waiting for the results. "Did you get a hit?" asked Hotch, not expecting one. Only people who worked with the government and convicts had there fingerprints in the system.
Morris sighed. He didn't know what the agents' reactions would be about the news. "Yeah, we got a hit."
The team waited expectantly. "Are you going to tell us?" asked Rossi, sarcastically.
Morris nodded. "The match was Spencer James Reid."
Reid winced as his stomach had another painful cramp. It had only been a little bit since he had to vomit, and now he was having more withdrawal symptoms. It was going to be a long few days, assuming he wasn't found. At least he would die of dehydration in about 3 days. Maybe less. Reid tried to think about something other than the cravings and pain in his stomach. He could recite a book. What was a good book to recite? What was JJ's favorite book?
That made him stop. He began running through everyone on his teams favorite things, if he could. But his eidetic memory was mostly for reading, not for listening. His eyes welled up when he realized he couldn't remember JJ's favorite butterfly. JJ loved butterflies. She had since she was little. JJ could even teach Reid things he didn't know about butterflies, and that was hard to do.
He thought of Morgan. Morgan loved basketball, and surprisingly was a Lakers fan. One time, they were on a case, and Reid had to share a room with Morgan. They got in an argument because a Laker's championship game was on, and a marathon of Star Trek was on. Morgan argued that Star Trek was old and Reid had seen it a thousand times, and Reid insisted that Morgan could find out the results of the game in the morning, and that he didn't have to watch it. Reid still didn't understand the allure of watching sports.
Hotch, although he wouldn't let anyone EVER know it, liked science. He always knew when the latest episode of Nova was on. He would watch it with Jack, even though Jack was a little kid who couldn't understand what he was watching. Reid had seen Hotch explain science to Jack once. Garcia would describe it as 'absolutely adorable'.
Prentiss liked to listen to music. And not the cheap, awful stuff that new artists are coming out to, but real music. Reid went to an orchestral music concert with her once, since she knew no one else would be into something like that. Reid looked over and saw her close her eyes during a particularly emotional part of a song. She was just breathing deeply and smiling, listening to the music. Reid wouldn't forget that, since Prentiss usually never shows anything other than her 'bad-ass'ness.
Reid sighed as he though about his team. They were everything to him. He though about what they were doing now, and how long it had taken for them to give up on him. 'I hope not too long. I don't want them to waste time they could be using saving so many lives, just to find me,' he thought. But he knew subconsciously, that he never wanted them to stop looking. He wanted someone to care, to look for him. But it would be illogical. He wouldn't ever be found.
JJ made a sound like she had been punched in the gut. Prentiss had disbelief written on her face, looking to Hotch subconsciously for reassurance. Morgan just stood, and Rossi spoke first. "You're sure?"
Detective Morris sighed again, and nodded. "Yes. I don't know if this is good news or bad news. I'm sorry," he said, sighing. He walked out, giving them some privacy.
Hotch nodded. He looked strained, but he put on a composure that was hard to obtain in the current situation. "Alright team. We need to get Reid home. We know who he is, but we don't know where he is. Morgan, you and Prentiss go to Dwyre's house, knock down what ever you need to, just see if you can find where Reid is hidden. Rossi, help me with interrogation. JJ, I want you to talk to all of the people that work with Dwyre, see if they know anything that might have to do with Reid. His latest project, he might have called it," Hotch said. JJ nodded, looking determined, but nervous. She walked away, with a new determined stride.
Rossi looked at Hotch, whose face lost some of its firm touch when JJ left. "What do you think our chances of finding Reid are?" asked Rossi, now that the younger members of the team had gone.
Hotch didn't answer for a moment, then looked at Rossi with his signature stern look. "You can ask Reid the statistics when we find him," he said firmly.
Hotch then turned around and entered the interrogation room, fully intent on finding out where his missing agent was. Rossi followed, with respect building up for him.
JJ walked into the hospital, heading straight to the psychiatric ward. She walked up to the nurse behind the desk. "How can I help you?" asked the nurse, putting down the phone he had just been using.
"Hi, I'm Agent Jennifer Jareau with the F.B.I., and I need to speak to some of the doctors closest to Dr. Dwyre, as soon as possible. It's an urgent matter," she said, flashing her badge to the R.N.
He nodded. "Dr. Poultaire knew him best. She was the only one Dwyre really talked to. I'll go get her for you," he said, and walked off, quickly. JJ stood and looked around. She saw a patient sitting up in bed, arguing with a doctor and frantically pointing at something in the corner that JJ couldn't see. JJ felt a pang of sympathy, but was distracted from the upset looking patient when an older woman with a doctor's jacket showed up. "Hello, you must be with the F.B.I. I'm Dr. Poultaire, how can I help you?" she said, shaking JJ's hand. JJ got right to business.
"Hi. I'm asking questions about Dr. Dwyre. I need to know what you know about his projects," said JJ. "Anything at work he prioritized, that he was interested in."
Poultaire nodded, sadness evident in her eyes. "Yes, he was obsessive in his work. I was really the only person he talked to, other than patients. But he didn't have a lot of patients, he studied more. He was fascinated with the genetics behind mental illness, by what causes it, and if genetic heredity plays a role. He studied that a lot. Bipolar mood disorder, eating disorders, schizophrenia. Lots of them."
JJ nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Poultaire," she said, feeling nervous for her young friend. "Do you know if he found anything on this subject in the last year and a half?" she asked. If he had, his revelation on the subject might have been with experiments with Reid. She shuddered at the thought.
Dr. Poultaire thought, and shook her head. "But in the past year or so he became interested in another subject. You would know it as cabin fever, but severe forms of it. And P.T.S.D. He didn't have a lot of patients in the last year. He was in his office a lot, researching. I'm surprised the hospital kept him, with what little work for patients he actually does. I assume the only reason he is still here is because of connections," she said.
"Connections? What connections?" JJ asked.
"His father was a very well known surgeon here. He was the best, until he generated bipolar disorder, a very severe form. He began to hallucinate, and he was dangerous to have working here. Eventually, he died from a heart attack. He was highly respected though, and left donations and awards for our hospital. I assume the board just doesn't want to fire his son."
JJ nodded, memorizing all this information. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Poultaire," she said, shaking the doctor's hand.
Poultaire nodded, "I hope you find whoever Dwyre is holding, I really do. Good luck."
JJ gave a small nod, and looked down. "I do too," she said quietly, thinking of her Spence.
This could be very JJ/Reid if you looked at it. Some parts could, anyway. Sorry, this is a bit shorter than my last chapter, and I let the team find out a bit sooner than I would have liked, but Reid's prints WOULD have been in the system. So, technically, that was accurate. XD
REVIEW. NOW. OR I WILL HURT YOU. XD lol I wouldn't hurt any of my readers. Or maybe I would? Hmmm . . .