A.N: Thanks Mary, that's a good idea. I'll feed that into this chapter. Also Reid's still using. I'm not sure how he'd get the stuff through customs but I thought, hey he's a genius he'd probably find a way.
Reid rubbed his eyes and stared at himself in the mirror, had he looked so ill before that little problem of his?
His features were gaunt, cheeks sunken and dark rings under his eyes.
At least the dark ring he could put down to the gruelling, sleepless flight.
The exhaustion had caught up with him in the car.
The story he had told had lightened the atmosphere in the car briefly…until Jacobson had begun to tell the team about the fourth victim they had found that morning.
Suddenly he had felt his mood change as it did so often nowadays and he had leaned his head against the car window, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn't have to participate in the conversation.
The next thing he knew Morgan was shaking him gently "Reid I don't care if you weigh the same as a feather man, I'm not carrying you to your room".
Yawning, Reid wandered out from the bathroom into the bedroom of his tiny motel room.
He picked up the case file and flicked through it. He'd already read it a few minutes ago, each detail filed neatly into his eidetic memory but he had felt a twinge of guilt about having left it so long.
There was now a section tacked onto the end, the victim that had been found this morning. Looking over the details and the neatly typed report of Evie Vimes, Reid knew she was right.
It had been the first, even without the coroner's report it was easy to tell. The body hadn't been buried too much longer than the others but the grave had been dug slowly and carefully. 'He was proud' Reid thought.
Flicking back over the last victims (this one was yet to be identified), Reid sighed.
Victimology was obvious, travellers in their early 20s, gender didn't seem to play a role and there was no evidence of any sexual interaction. The first victim found had been a Scottish girl, making her way to the Golburn Valley for a fruit picking holiday.
The next two were an American couple on their way up to Sydney, they were the reason that the BAU had been sent out.
The boy, no older than Reid was the son of a particularly influential congressman.
'Not that it would matter to the unsub' Reid thought to himself, 'it was just a bonus that it generated this much attention'.
It didn't matter who you were the moment they had you, you were just a victim.
Shoot him! Shoot him!
Reid shuddered at the memory, at least it hadn't been a full blown flashback this time.
All of a sudden there was a loud grunting noise from outside, like wild boars.
Reid squeaked and took a step back, tripping over his discarded suitcase falling flat on his back.
He lay still and stared at the ceiling. There was no noise save for the grunting.
Reid decided it mustn't be anything to worry about and picked himself up off the floor.
Still the sound had put him on edge, he dug through his suitcase until he found what he was looking for. The small kit which contained a small vial of Dilaudid, a rubber band and a syringe.
He had beaten it, he thought desperately as he began inject the drug, he had.
After New Orleans, after the talk with Gideon.
Once they were home, Reid had grabbed the vials from his apartment and raced to Gideon's home.
Gideon had simply taken the vials from the agitated boy and poured them down the sink while Reid sat on the couch, head in his hands, sobbing.
Gideon had helped him through the withdrawal process and he hadn't told a soul, he respected Reid after all and Reid's need for privacy.
Now Gideon was gone and that had hurt so much that Reid, angry and alone, returned to the easiest solution to numb the pain.
The others would find out soon enough, Gideon would contact them and tell them the truth.
He knew Reid was using again. He had called Reid shortly before they'd left to see if he was okay, to explain that he wasn't abandoning him, to make sure he wasn't using again.
Reid's only response had been "fuck you" and he'd hung up the phone.
Now Reid giggled as the drugs took effect, it wasn't a word that he'd used very often in his life and he had said it to a superior agent, something about that was simply hilarious.
Still lucid enough to pack away the evidence of his secret shame, Reid then clambered onto his bed closed his eyes and dreamed of his troubled childhood.