THE VILLAGE
Chapter 2
It's Your Funeral

A photograph never grows old. You and I change, people change all through the months and years, but a photograph always remains the same. How nice to look at a photograph of mother or father taken many years ago. You see them as you remember them. But as people live on, they change completely. That is why I think a photograph can be kind." – Albert Einstein

Reid slowly came round, and the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't cold any more. He had a headache, and this became evident when he tried to turn his head.

'It's ok, lie still. You are going to be alright.' a soft voice told him.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the woman who was holding his hand.

'Where am I? Who are you?' Reid asked. 'Where is the man I was with?'

'My name is Julia, and I am going to make you well again.' She lifted his head off the fluffy pillow and held a cup of water to his lips. He drank gratefully.

'Julia, where is the man I was with?' Reid asked again, trying to sit up. He winced as his head shot with pain. He looked around the room. 'Hotch?'

Julia put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him down again.

'Shh, now Spencer.' she said. 'Don't worry about him now. You need to sleep.'

'I'm not sleeping until I know where Hotch is.'

'But you must, my Darling.' she said soothingly. She touched his forehead with her small cool hand.

'I'm not your....' and suddenly speech became impossible. His eye lids became heavy and he slipped into a deep sleep.

Two men entered the room as soon as Reid was sleeping. They stood behind the woman and watched his chest rise and fall.

'He's not going to shut up about the other man.' she said. 'What shall I tell him?'

'The truth. He's dead.' one of them said. 'At least to him.'

'Did you leave him in the snow?' she asked, turning to the men. 'Is he dead?'

'That's men's work.' the other said. 'Not for you to know. You need to concentrate on your part in this.'

Julia smiled. Yes her part was going to be enjoyable.

-0-0-0-

He was still cold and it took a moment for him to remember what had happened. He was lying on the floor on a thin layer of damp straw, and he had been stripped to his underclothes. He was on his side facing the wall. He turned onto his back and looked around the room. It was dark stone walls running with water. There were no windows, so he guessed it was underground. Light was supplied by a burning torch on the wall beyond the bars that formed the ceiling of the cell, casting flickering moving shadows on the damp floor. He stood up shakily. His fingers and toes ached and his face was sore from the wind. He looked up at the only way out of the cell.

'Hey! Where am I?' He raised his hands to the bars. 'Show yourselves!'

'Be quiet!' a voice shouted back out of the darkness. 'It is not time to feed you yet.'

'Who are you?' he cried. 'Tell me! What's going on?'

There was no reply. Instead someone appeared at the opening above him.

'Where am I?' he asked again.

'We said be quiet!' and he pointed a hose through the bars at him. He had no where to run from the foul water that was sprayed over him. He cowered in the corner in an attempt to protect himself, but the water surged powerfully at him and soaked him. It was then he noticed a drain hole in the centre of the room where the water drained away. He crawled over to the corner and sat on the now sodden pile of straw and put his head in his hands.

What the hell is going on? Where's Reid? Where was this place?

He leaned back against the wall of his prison with his arms around his knees trying to think, as the dirty water dripped from his dark hair into a puddle on the floor.

-0-0-0-

'Do you fancy me?' the woman said.

Reid's eyes snapped open. 'Pardon?'

''Cos I fancy you.' She touched his chest while she spoke and Reid realised that his shirt had been removed. He smacked her hand away.

'Stop that!' He saw then that his fingers were bandaged. He started to remove the bandages and she placed her hand over his.

'No, leave them on. You have frost bite. We thought you might lose some, but our surgeon managed to save your fingers and toes.'

'What about the man with the torch? Who was he? He was out in the snow'

'There was no man with a torch, Spencer. You and your friend were alone out there.

She was bent forwards, and when he looked at her, her face was inches from hers.

'Where is Hotchner, my friend.'

'We didn't want you to know this until you are better, Spencer, but I'm afraid we couldn't save him.'

'What are you saying?' Reis grabbed her wrists and held her hands away from him. 'You couldn't save him?'

'He died.' She blinked back tears as she saw his distress. 'Our doctors tried to save him but he was too far gone.'

'But it was only a bit of snow!' he said. 'How could he die?'

'You were out there for a long time, Spencer. We found you after the storm. He was sheltering you, and took the full force of the blizzard. He saved your life, Spencer. He was a good man.'

Reid felt tears of grief build up in his eyes. 'His family? Have they been notified?'

'His funeral is later on today. Would you like to go?'

'His funeral? What about his family? You can't.........'

'You sleep now.'

Reid was getting annoyed. 'I want to see him! I want to see his body! I want to........' he faltered. 'I want to say good bye.'

She patted his hand patronisingly. 'You can say good bye at the funeral, Spencer.' she said.

Reid pushed her away and tried to get out of the bed.

'Please don't try to stop me.' he said. 'I want to see Hotch's body. I want a phone. I need to call our team.'

'Ah yes, your team.' A man had entered the room as Reid had got off the bed. 'In your identification it said that you were in the FBI. A group called the BAU. Well. you won't need to speak to them. The village elders have dealt with everything.'

'I want to see the village elders.' Reid said, suddenly feeling tired again. 'I want to see Hotch's body.' He took a step towards Julia. 'I want........' He fainted, and Julia caught him before he hit the floor. The man carried him back to the bed.

'You said there was a funeral! We don't have a lot of time to organise this.'

Julia tucked Reid into the bed.

'He suspects. I'm sure of it. He will never co operate if he suspects. If there is a funeral it will give him closure.''

'He'll co operate, don't worry.' He took a syringe out of his pocket, removed the safety cover and emptied the contents into the top of his arm. 'He will co operate or die.'

Julia followed the man out of the room into the corridor outside. The comfort of the hospital ward stopped at the door. Outside the walls were of a bland grey, nothing to break the monotony. Julia locked the door and turned away.

'Get out of hose clothes now, Julia. I don't want our men to see you dressed like that. I have a funeral to arrange.'

'Yes father.' she said and walked away back to her own room.

-0-0-0-

In the prison it was time to feed. But the offering was inedible, and he couldn't bring himself to put it in his mouth. He touched it with his tingling forefinger. It was slightly warm cereal in a thick soup that smelt awful. He put it on the floor and checked out the cup of water – grey dirty water. He wondered if it came from the same place as that which had been turned on him before. He left the food where it was and walked back to the corner. When he was hungry he would eat. Until then he was not going to chance it.

'Eat the food. Eat it or you will get none tomorrow.'

He went back to the bowl and tipped it down the drain. 'I won't eat this muck!' he shouted. 'Let me out of here! What have you done with Reid! Where is he?'

'Two days without food now. That was very foolish Agent Aaron Hotchner.'

He picked up the cup of water, and threw it at the wall. 'Let me out!'

-0-0-0-

Julia woke him up at one o'clock.

'If you want to go to the funeral you must come now and get ready.'

Reid opened his eyes slowly. 'I can't understand it. It was just a bit of snow. How can a bit of snow in Nevada kill someone so strong?'

Julia sat on the bed. 'Tell me about him.' she said. 'You loved him, Didn't you.'

Reid stared at her. 'I don't want to tell you about him.' he said angrily. 'I don't know you. I don't want to talk about him to a stranger. I want to see him!'

'I'm sorry but you cannot see him. It is a closed casket. He was badly damaged by the cold. That is why you couldn't see him. I'm sorry, Spencer.'

'Reid. I would rather you called me Reid.' he said.

'Ok, Reid. Would you like to borrow a suit?'

Reid nodded numbly. She pulled back the covers and reached for his hand. He accepted her hand and stood unsteadily by the bed. A suit was hanging on the back of the door. Quietly he got dressed in a daze, not understanding how this was happening. His lovely Aaron, destroyed in a blizzard, and he couldn't even say good bye.

Julia led him out of the room and down the corridor. He noticed how dim the lights were, and wondered if it was out of respect for Hotch. She led him out through a door into the brilliant Nevada sunshine. He looked up at the sky and it reminded him of his childhood – the good parts – the long happy summers playing cops and robbers with Jeff, the teenage years exploring the desert – he was going to show Hotch those places. He wanted to share these things with Aaron. Now he was dead.

Dead?

He saw the coffin and the straps which would lower it into the ground.

'Aaron....' he whispered.

He watched the rest of the short service through a mist of tears. Julia held his hand tightly the whole time.

It was over. He stepped forwards and looked down into the hole.

'Good bye, Aaron.' he said softly. Julia started to lead him away, Reid stopped.

'Where are his friends?' Reid said. 'Rossi, Emily, Morgan? Where are they?'

'They were invited.' Julia said. 'Maybe they weren't as good friends as they pretended to be when he was alive.' she said. 'Some people are like that. Come with us and have a drink. We all want to hear about him.'

He allowed himself to be led away from the grave. 'I can't believe it.' he said softly, tears streaming down his face. 'My Hotch.........'

-0-0-0-

'Where is Reid?' Hotch shouted. 'I want to see him!'

'We have something to show you, Hotchner. Look carefully.'

A hand appeared, and dropped through the bars an envelope. Hotch bent and picked it up and took it to his corner. One by one he looked at the pictures. The first one was of Reid lying in a bed, then one of him with a woman. Pictures of Reid happy, warm, comfortable, crying in a suit at a funeral under a hot blue sky, being comforted by the woman. Hotch looked again at the photographs, he spread them out on the floor in front of him.

'What have you done to him?' he shouted. 'Whose funeral was that?'

'Yours, Aaron Hotchner. We told him you were dead, and the funeral was the proof. You are no longer part of his life. He will forget you now.'

'He won't forget! You are delusional if you think you can just wipe his mind of me. Now let me the hell out of here!'

This time when the hose was turned on him the water was icy cold. He tried to grab the photographs of Reid but only managed to get one of them. The pressure of the water pushed him into the corner, and he watched in dismay as the other pictures washed away. He crawled into the corner and curled up with his back to the centre of the room, holding the picture to his chest, shivering in the icy cold as the last of the filthy water drained away.