Okay folks, so this is that point in the story where things begin to wrap themselves up. I'm pondering an epilogue of sorts--please let me know if this is something I should consider. That said, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine; otherwise I'd be watching this Wednesdays' episode right now...
Reid knew his timeline. He had, at best, about ten or twelve hours to figure out how to get that scientific barrier of a door to open for him.
If it takes any longer, there'll be no point anymore. She'll have me diced to ribbons and put in a long, narrow box, he thought grimly.
There were, however, some other things that needed attending. For one, trying to make an escape to the outside world in a robe that would definitely qualify as "borderline indecent"…
Reid looked over across the couch back for his only other option—the white shift dress.
Why couldn't she have left me a pair of pants? I'd have even gone without the shirt…
Oh well. You do what you have to, I suppose…
And with that thought, he took off the thin robe, replacing it with the floor-length shift. It was like pulling on a really, really long nightshirt, he reasoned. One with lace trimming on all the openings and showing off all the wrong places…
Focus. Get the door open.
Clad in the white garment, Reid then took the robe with him as a means of covering his hands while he tried to open the door. He gingerly tested his theory by folding the cloth into several sections and then placing his left hand in the middle of them, so that when he leaned up against the door frame the cloth prevented his hands from touching the sensitive metal.
Grasping the doorknob, Reid inhaled sharply.
Here goes nothing…
Reid turned the doorknob, which, as before, unlatched the lock but still presented the problem of pulling the tightly wedged door open. Leaning heavily on the cloth, Reid tried pulling the heavy barrier free from its position with all his might.
The door didn't budge. Not even an inch.
Resolutely, Reid tried again. This time he braced his feet on the wood flooring and used every inch of his frame to combat the stubbornness of the steel door blocking his exit.
The door still wouldn't move. Two hours had passed, and Reid was still trapped inside his ornate prison.
This isn't working.
Though he was reluctant to do so, Reid abandoned the idea of forcing the door open. There was simply no way to make it open without touching it.
I could drag Sienna out here and use her to open it, he thought fleetingly.
Yeah, and if she hasn't figured out what you're doing already, genius, she'll certainly figure it out when you do that…
Another hour passed. Reid had taken stock of all the exits available to him. The windows were unbreakable. The door was wedged tight and rigged to lock if he so much as brushed a finger on it. The floors were solid, and the ceilings were as well.
There's only one way out of here, Reid realized.
And it means I have to escape right in front of her…
It had taken another hour to gather up all of the linens that were available in the house. Reid was grateful that Sienna had bought the king-sized beds at this juncture—they provided more cloth to work with.
The line of linens was growing. He had tied all the sheets, the towels, even the tiny things like dishrags and pillowcases together to make the world's longest sheet-rope.
Grabbing the end of his creation, Reid took one last deep breath before turning the lock on Sienna's room.
He entered and found her in the same position he'd left her in four hours earlier—on her back, immobilized and unable to move. As a precautionary method, Reid had gone into her "punishment room" and availed himself of several pairs of handcuffs. He fastened one end of each pair onto each of Sienna's wrists and ankles, and then fastened the other around the bars in the iron bed frame.
"Let's see how you like being tied down for a change," he said with a trace of satisfaction in his voice.
Sienna didn't reply. She didn't move. She didn't blink.
Wasting no time, Reid heaved the giant sheet-rope out of the bay window, over the balcony and tied it off. The length dangled about halfway between the balcony and a nearby fire ladder.
Hoisting himself over the railing, Reid latched onto the sheet-rope, hoping against all hope that it wouldn't untie itself or give way while he was dangling from it. Using very slow movements, he managed to shimmy himself down the procession of linens and make himself parallel with the fire ladder.
Bracing one foot flush with the cement wall, Reid bounced himself a few times to get a momentum going. Once he was certain, he angled his next bounce to swing him closer to the fire ladder. He missed on the first try by about a foot.
On the second try, Reid managed to miss it by a half-foot.
On the third try, his foot grazed the rails of the ladder.
On the fourth try, Reid reached out and tried to grab the rungs of the ladder, missing by mere centimeters.
On the fifth try, the sheet rope gave just a little. Don't break on me now, he pleaded with his lifeline silently.
On the sixth try, Reid caught the topmost rung. Holding tightly, he forced his aching limbs to grab onto the metal, letting his cloth savior fall parallel to the wall.
Flying Wallendas, eat your hearts out, he thought.
After reaching the ground, Reid gave the street the once-over.
Wouldn't do to go through all that and be caught by one of her 'friends,' now would it? he thought grimly.
To his immense relief, there was no one. Not even the faint whisper of a breeze welcomed him back to the land of reality.
The young agent saw a nearby bench sitting across from where his sheet-rope hung limply above him. He didn't realize just how tired he really was—the push of adrenaline had sent all of his focus on overdrive, and now that he was free of that horrible prison, he felt as if he wanted to collapse. He sank into the rusted metal seat, not caring that it was tearing holes in his long white shift.
There was a loud sound coming closer. Reid paid it little mind. He was too busy trying to sort though his emotions. The overwhelming relief of being free of Sienna's grasp was battling with the memories of the abuse he'd suffered at her hands, and the memories were threatening to claim victory and send him into a torrent of tears and uncontrolled sobs. Every so often he would look at the garment covering his legs and another surge of shame would crawl through his veins, reminding him that this time things had sunk to a much more personal level than they had in Michigan.
The sound grew louder, echoing off the crumbling structures and reverberating into the empty street. Within moments, no less than eight vehicles pulled up next to the building across from where Reid sat.
One of the vehicles opened out, and a few familiar faces spilled out.
"You're sure he's here?" came one voice.
"Has Garcia ever been wrong?"
"Well, no, but…"
"Okay—we know Reid's in there, and so is the Nolan woman…" This voice began giving instructions on who was going in, and with whom, and how.
"Guys," a softer voice said, looking up towards the sky.
Five pairs of eyes looked toward the heavens.
"Son of a bitch."
"Huh."
"Reid…"
Reid smiled only slightly as this revelation occurred to his colleagues. Finally he could stay silent no longer. "Over here," he called out.
The next thing he knew the relieved faces of his team, with the exception of Morgan and Hotch, had surrounded him. The latter two had gone to storm the 'apartment,' knowing full well that Sienna wouldn't stop unless she was caught.
"Are you okay?" Emily asked.
"Okay?"
"Bad question. Are you hurt?"
"A little. Nothing that can't be patched."
"I hope they get that woman," JJ spat. "Do you know where she sent us, looking for you?"
"Anchorage, Alaska?"
Both women looked straight at him, as did Gideon, who had waited nearby to find out the results of the raid.
"Sienna told me. She was pretty proud of herself, too, thinking she had me and no one could find where she'd gone."
"Reid," Gideon said, a little more gently than Emily had. "Are you okay?"
Reid thought about that for a minute. Emily had been asking about his physical well-being, and that was easy to determine. Gideon, however, was looking into those parts of Reid that he knew Sienna was likely to target and systematically destroy.
He swallowed hard. "Right now, yes."
Gideon tipped his head, a small frown crossing his face. Reid hadn't wanted to give specifics, but his mentor had understood.
Just then Hotch and Morgan walked over. Hotch's face was so hard Reid thought he could crack walnuts with it, and Morgan…well, the younger man was letting forth a tirade that would singe even the most seasoned of ears.
"How the hell did she do it?" he spat.
"Do what?" JJ asked, just as Emily said "She didn't…"
"She's gone," Hotch confirmed.
Reid's eyes went completely wide. "That's impossible," he said matter-of-factly. "She should still be immobile for at least another five hours…."
"Well, immobile or not, she ain't there," said Morgan through clenched teeth.
Reid began searching the street wildly. There were scores of police officials, fellow agents, emergency personnel, and so forth, but he couldn't see the one thing he desperately needed to find—the sight of Sienna Nolan, walking away into the dark of a Baltimore night.
"Come on, let's get you looked at," Hotch said finally, and Reid allowed himself to be walked over to the waiting ambulance.
"Ah, Reid?" Morgan asked suddenly.
"Yeah…?"
"What's with the dress?"
For the first time since he had seen his teammates' faces, Reid felt the slightest bit of shame. "I didn't have a choice," he offered as a way of explanation. "She took all of my clothes…"
A/N: The "Flying Wallendas" are a real-life family of renowned trapeze artists. Look them up, they're pretty fascinating... :)