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Reid still couldn't remember where he was going.
He tried to recall what he had been thinking when he'd left the apartment complex. Well, he had wanted to get away from Derek Morgan's music. He had also wanted to get his mail.
"Sorry, Dr. Reid, I already gave it to you."
Reid frowned. Alright. So he had already gotten his mail. But then what had happened?
He had remembered walking outside. There had been a sense of urgency about the whole thing.
Reid massaged his head. He felt like an idiot.
No, think, he scolded himself, You know this. It's in there somewhere. You remember everything. You have an eidetic memory.
He tried to ignore his brain kicking in and informing him that he'd had an eidetic memory before electricity had fucked with his mind, and even if he still had an eidetic memory that was only in relation to things he read.
"Shut up!" Reid shouted, causing several passers-by to give him strange looks. Reid felt his face reddening as he focused on the ground, but kept walking. At that point, he got the strangest sensation that someone was watching him; he turned around and looked, but couldn't distinguish anyone particular in the crowd.
It's all these people staring at me, he thought to himself, If I can get somewhere where I can sit and think by myself, everything will come back to me. He ignored the fact that this thought was not one hundred percent rational and turned down one of the less crowded alley ways. He needed to think.
Tucker couldn't believe how unlucky he was. His brother was in plain sight; he was right there, on the other side of the street; but he couldn't get to him. "Spencer!" he shouted, hoping his brother would hear him; but the oblivious boy just turned into one of the alleyways and disappeared.
"No! Spencer!" He shouted desperately, pushing past people. He darted into the busy street, causing several cars to put on their breaks and honk loudly. There was a policeman sitting in his car, parked outside one of the apartments Tucker had visited last night. The officer yelled at him, furious. Once he had made it to the other side of the street, the officer put his hand out, stopping him.
"What the hell are you doing, jaywalking like that? You're going to get yourself killed!"
"I'm—I'm sorry sir, but my brother just went over that way, I've been looking for him for weeks, please, sir, you have to let me by—"
The policeman shook his head, already writing up a ticket. "I'm sorry about your brother, son, but you can't just—" the policeman broke off, seemingly alarmed. "Are—are you bleeding? There's blood underneath your arm."
Tucker shook his head distractedly, craning his neck to try and see Spencer. "I have to get to him, sir," he said, "You don't understand."
He could see the officer motioning to another policeman situated further down the street. "Why don't you come with me, son?"
"No—NO! I have to find my brother!" He pushed past the officer, who called after him loudly. But he ignored the officer—it didn't matter. Spencer was all that mattered right now.
Morgan still couldn't find Reid. He was driving down the streets at top speed, scanning the crowds of people on the sidewalk—Reid couldn't have gone that far.
"If I was Reid," Morgan muttered to himself, "Where would I go?" Immediately, he took a right and pulled into the nearest coffee shop. He burst in the door, causing several of the customers to give him irritated looks.
"FBI. Have you seen this man?" Morgan demanded, flashing Reid's picture at the owner.
The owner looked very alarmed. "Not today," she said, "He used c-come in here a lot, though. Is there some kind of trouble?"
"Um—no, I'm just looking for him," Morgan muttered, "Sorry to bother you. If you see him, tell—tell him to call me." He handed her his card and exited the coffee shop, getting back into his car.
"Damnit, Reid, where are you?"
Hotch was staring at two more bodies.
"He's devolving," Prentiss remarked, "Kills are escalating, getting more violent; this one had witnesses. It's only a matter of time before we catch him, Hotch."
"But how many kids will get killed before we do?" Hotch muttered. His phone buzzed. "What?" he snapped, after glancing at the ID.
"I still can't find him, Hotch."
"You still can't—" Hotch broke off, biting his lip. He tried to calm himself down; yelling at Morgan wasn't going to solve anything. "How long has he been missing?"
"About an hour. Since I first called you."
"Did you check the coffee shop?" Hotch asked.
A strained laugh. "Yes."
"Well…damnit, Morgan, I don't know, just fucking find him!" Hotch snapped, losing control of his anger. Then he hung up.
Morgan stared at the phone in shocked silence. It wasn't like Hotch to lose his temper like that. "Why don't you trying babysitting Reid next time?" Morgan shouted at the phone, although he knew his superior could no longer hear him.
Meanwhile, Reid had decided to go home. He was never going to remember what he had started walking for.
The problem was, he was also extremely lost. In his attempt to get away from the crowds of people, he had ended up in a dirty alleyway, which was deserted save a homeless man who had fallen asleep behind a dumpster. The worst part was, Reid could swear he had walked by the same man about five times since he'd gotten lost. He kept forgetting which route he'd taken.
Without any better ideas, he prodded the sleeping man with his toe. The man started, let out a grunt, then appraised Spencer with a critical eye.
"Hello," Reid said, "I was wondering if you could give me directions back towards the center of town?"
The man stared at him in disbelief. "How about some money?" he asked eventually.
"Oh, I…I actually don't have any money, but…you can have my watch if you want." It then occurred to Reid that this man probably wouldn't give him the best of directions anyways, seeing as he was homeless and sleeping in an alleyway and all. He rubbed his head, wishing that this logic had occurred to him earlier.
The homeless man stared at him. "Alright," he said.
Reid took his watch off and dangled it in front of the man's nose. "Directions first," he said.
The man nodded eagerly. "At the end of the alley, go take a right, then you can, uh…" he frowned. "Uh, go straight, and uh, take a right, and uh, another right, then, um…go straight, then take a right." The man nodded.
Reid stared at him. "That's a square," he said.
The man rubbed his head. "Is it?"
Reid sighed, leaning against the wall. He could remember a time when he'd had the city map memorized; now he couldn't find his way out of an alleyway.
Life could be cruel sometimes.
Hotch's phone was buzzing again. "Hotchner," he replied, praying that it was Morgan telling him that he'd found Reid.
It wasn't. "Sir, there was a very suspicious young man who passed by here earlier. One of my officers told me he had blood under his arm. He ran into one of the back alleys; my officer tried to follow, but he lost him. Kid said he was following his 'brother.'"
Hotch's blood turned to ice in his veins. "How long ago was this?"
"Ten or so minutes."
"What did he look like?" Hotch demanded.
He could hear the sheriff conversing with one of his officers. "…yeah, he says he was tall, skinny, brown hair, nervous looking thing…runs damned fast though, apparently."
"That's definitely him," Hotch said, "Get officers patrolling every inch of those alleys. Don't let him get away."
"We'll try our best, sir," the sheriff said. Hotch hung up and immediately dialed Morgan's number.
"Hotch?" Morgan sounded panicked. "I still haven't found him, man I'm sor—"
"Morgan, get to the site of the last murder. I'll meet you there," Hotch said hurriedly, "They think they've found Tucker."
Reid had sunk down into a sitting position, positioned across from the homeless man; who was now fully awake and jabbering away about a certain government conspiracy involving poisoned milk and locusts.
"I used to work for the FBI," Reid said eventually, to put an end to the man's babbling.
"Oh, really?" he replied excitedly, "I used to work for NASA." Then he continued on a new spiel about his days as an astronaut. Reid put his head in his hands, trying to recall the city map that he'd memorized all those years ago…
That was when he heard someone new entering the alleyway. Reid looked up hopefully; maybe it was someone who could actually give him directions; or maybe it was even Derek Morgan, who would finally take him home.
But it wasn't. Reid froze in fear and astonishment as he stared at the person approaching him; the man stopped once he was towering over him, a huge grin spreading across his face.
"Hello, Spencer," Tucker said, "It took me forever to find you."
Reid just stared, speechless. He saw Tucker reach into his pocket and pull out a short, but sharp looking blade; there was dried blood running down the side.
Reid tried to cry out, but Tucker reached forward and put his hand on his mouth.
"Don't worry," he said, his friendly smile widening, "We'll be together soon."
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