Commencement

Chapter 13

Despite their attempts at distraction, they'd both remained vigilant for signs and sounds of human activity. Just at dusk, they'd seen a beam of light arc from right to left, its integrity broken up by the shadows of the dense foliage surrounding them.

"That's got to be their car leaving, right?" JJ sounded hopeful.

"Leaving, or repositioning." Reid wasn't quite ready for them to show themselves yet.

"You think they're circling around?"

"It's not that thick an area of woods. It can probably be walked in under ten minutes."

Which was why he'd hoped she would leave him behind, even if he understood why she wouldn't. She might have gotten away, if she'd left him.

He might as well have said the words aloud.

"I told you, I'm not about to leave you here, unable to defend yourself. It might take me under ten minutes, but what about you?"

All he could do was to smile.

"You know, we could both decide to leave the FBI altogether, and go on tour as a couple of psychics."

"Ha! The trouble is, we're only able to read each other's minds. That would get old, pretty quickly."

"I guess you're right."

Reid was quiet for a few moments, still waiting for a sign from their pursuers, but having been thrust into a sudden and unwelcome memory by their last few words of conversation. Even in the gathering twilight, JJ caught sight of it in his features.

"What?" You're not always readable enough, my friend.

"Huh?"

"What were you just thinking? And no, don't make a joke of it."

Reid heaved a sigh as he pulled her closer and resettled his jacket over them. The ambient temperature had dropped with the sun.

"I guess I was just thinking that being inside my mind isn't always a good thing. Maybe you want to be a little bit careful about that."

JJ tilted her head up to him. "I'm not afraid. Remember, I was there."

There, when he'd admitted what he'd done in prison, there when he'd let his anger overcome his restraint. She'd been there when he'd surprised himself with how much venom one human body could hold toward another. There, when he'd feared that venom had displaced his humanity.

And she didn't run away. She saw me, as plainly as I can be seen, and she didn't run away.

He'd marveled at that before, but this time, the thought brought another one along with it. This time, for the very first time, he realized that she might have seen him even better than he'd seen himself. He'd known the murderous rage from the inside, of course. But he'd not witnessed it command the features of his best friend, not seen the wildness of it in his eyes, not seen the toll it had taken, so plainly evident in the dejected posture of defeat.

It was the kind of thing that once had frightened him, to have allowed himself to get so close to another human being. Even if he hadn't shared his mother's diagnosis, he'd been raised with the example of suspicion, the sense that others were to be feared more than trusted. It hadn't been until his adulthood that he'd found the courage to share anything of himself beyond the wealth of knowledge in his mind. He'd opened himself, ever so slowly, and found the richness of friendship, and shared experience, and hopes and dreams and wishes.

To this day, he'd shared himself with only a very few people, and with none more deeply than the woman beside him. A large part of him dreaded the prospect of having to form new relationships in whatever new circumstance would follow his time with the BAU. After all he'd been through, he didn't think he had that deep a reservoir of trust left in him. So all he could do was to be thankful for the relationships he had, and vow to nurture them, even if over a distance.

But there was no such distance now, nor had there been on the day she'd seen him at his worst. Reid squeezed his gratitude into her shoulder.

"You're right. I remember. And I don't think I ever said 'thank you'. But…thank you."

It was JJ's turn to be thrust into memory. It was true he hadn't thanked her at the time. There had been too much left to worry about, too much left to do, and then they'd been thrust into the trauma that had actually been caused by Scratch.

But he had thanked her another time. She'd been worried about him then, even before realizing he'd been targeted by an acolyte seeking revenge, and he'd thanked her for caring. She should have been touched by it…and she had been. But there was something about it that had seemed so formal, so stilted, that he should thank her for doing something that came to her so naturally, and it had pierced her. And then, he'd been gone, and when they'd found him, he'd been as close to dying as he'd been all those years ago, with Tobias Hankel. And she'd done as she'd done, all those years ago, and rushed to him with an embrace filled with relief, and gratitude, and love.

"You may as well thank me for breathing." Caring about you comes just as naturally.

"I do thank you for breathing."

She smiled back at him. "Ditto. So, do you think we've waited long enough yet?"

Reid considered it. "Let me get a look around this boulder. I haven't seen any more light, but it could have been blocked."

JJ was up before him. "I've got the good legs. I'll do it."

Reid might have been able to see over the rock, but JJ had to move around it. Without a sight line to each other, they kept up a whispered conversation, each assuring the other of their safety. When she'd kept watch for a full ten minutes without seeing any sign of activity, they felt safe in moving on.

JJ used her less-injured left hand to help Reid to his feet. Once he'd gotten his footing with the crutch, they set out, dappled moonlight guiding their way.

Spencer Reid had been in the woods a great many times since the night he'd been forced to dig his own grave. He'd struggled mightily with it at first, even in daylight, but time and therapy had helped him cope. Until tonight. Tonight, he was once again wandering in the woods, barely able to see, injured, and not at all certain of his survival. It was only natural that he flash back, and he'd just begun to do so when JJ broke the silence between them with a whisper.

"Can we make a deal? I'll keep your mind off the fact that we're lost in the woods if you'll keep my mind off it."

At first, he thought she'd been rattling around inside his mind again, but then the memory came to him.

"I thought you said you'd made that whole thing up." Grateful for the diversion.

"I told Morgan I'd made it up. I wasn't about to look like a weak female in front of the BAU's strongman."

"Ha!"

"Ha? You think I'm kidding?"

"No, 'ha', because you called Morgan our strongman."

"Well, he was, wasn't he? I mean, you said it yourself, he's the one who kicked in all the doors for us."

"I guess he did. But I think he was at least as proud of his intellect as he was of his muscle."

"Was." Even in a whisper, JJ sounded wistful.

"What?"

"We both said 'was', like he's in our past." She stopped them then, and turned to Reid. "I don't want you to be in my past."

He knew exactly what she meant. "We'll stay in touch. Neither of us is planning on moving, right? And we have the boys to keep us connected. We'll still see each other."

But it wouldn't be the same, and they both mourned the change. Friendships weren't built on planned visits and events, they were built on shared experiences, and things in common. And deep friendships were built upon sharing the huge, dramatic triumphs and tragedies of life, and even more upon the thousands of 'nothing' moments in between. They would still share the triumphs and tragedies. But the nothing moments would become lost wealth.

Reid moved them on. "Well, I guess I didn't care about looking weak back then. When I said I was afraid of the dark, I meant it."

She cast him a sideways grin. "It's not so dark right now, is it?"

"Not with my light walking right next to me."

That won him a fisted rub of his back, and he noticed it.

"You can't open your hand?"

"I can, it's just more comfortable if I don't."

"Opening your hand stretches the skin on your palm."

And tugs at the edges of your infected wound. Reid did his best to pick up the pace.

They should have been nearing the far edge of the wooded area, if they hadn't been going in circles. Not having been able to visualize the North Star, Reid had been navigating them using the position of the moon.

He drew them to a stop.

"Can you make out anything? Does it look brighter ahead?"

"I can't…I don't know, maybe."

"Okay, if I'm right, we're near the far road. They could be waiting there for us, so we'll need to be careful."

"I can go ahead to try to get a look. And, before you try to stop me, can I point out that you can't exactly move quietly with that crutch."

He conceded. "All right. But we need to be sure you can find your way back. If you start to lose sight of me, signal, and I'll move up."

"Any ideas on how I should signal? I'll be able to make out your figure, but not whether you're waving. That will be the same for you."

He thought for a moment, then reached into his pocket.

"There's probably not much charge left, but this should work. The flashlight will be too noticeable from the street, but you can just wave the screen in my direction, and I'll see it."

"Your phone! We should have tried it once we got out of the building!"

"I did, back when we were resting. Still no service….wait!" Eyeing the startup mode on the screen. "I've got one bar! We must have moved closer to the tower."

"Thank God! Can you reach Pen? Or just call 911!"

"I'm trying…..it's ringing….ring…ugh. Dropped."

"Try again!"

"It's lost the bar…no it's back…gone again…. We're going to have to get closer."

JJ deflated. "All right, give it to me. It may as well help us that way, if it's not going to help us make a call."

He handed the phone over. "Please, please, be careful. Just check it out, and come back for me. If they're out there, we'll take them on together."

She grinned at him. "We don't split up. Got it?"

He returned it. "Got it."

Then he held his breath as she set off without him. His subconscious mused about how absurdly large a small distance could seem, given the proper circumstance. It mused about how unthinkable it might once have seemed to have had to seek respite, and protection for a ten minute walk. It pondered the vagaries of fate, that they should be in danger of losing their lives on the very day that they'd thought the risk would end.

He could just make her out as an interruption in the pattern made by the shadow of the tree canopy as it was penetrated by moonlight. She moved forward several steps at a time, and then stopped, presumably to be certain she could still see him, bathed in the precise circle of moonlight they'd chosen for him.

Minutes in, he began to lose sight of her, and then he noticed a faint light moving in a semicircle, a 180 degree arc. She needed him to move up. Reid left his designated spot, headed in the direction of the light, alert for another spot where she might be able to see him. But the vegetation was more dense, and the moonlight more interrupted. He'd been able to see her because of her movement, but he doubted she would be able to see him if he remained stationary.

So he moved up until he could actually make out her figure, and not just the light from his phone. Then he set his crutch against a tree trunk, and began to make large waving motions with his arms. As long as she could make out the movement, they'd be within sight of one another.

Not having actually planned this part out, Reid was relieved when JJ seemed to understand what he was doing, and watched as she apparently shut down the screen and turned to move forward again. His relief immediately evaporated when he heard a sound of movement coming from behind the trees to his left.

Reid froze. And listened. And listened.

It's probably just an animal. I'm surprised we haven't run into one before this, actually.

Now he just had to hope it was a friendly one. Or at least one that was as afraid of him, as he was of it. He couldn't very well call out to JJ, so he just launched a prayer to whatever deity might be listening.

His hearing had become keen in the darkness. He could make out a faint flutter of leaves in the breeze, but little else. He was too far away to hear JJ's footfalls, and whatever animal had been nearby seemed to have moved on.

Or else it's learned how to creep up on humans.

He listened intently, his pulse in alert mode. There was nothing. Not a footfall, not a chatter or chirp, not the sound of a predator stealthily approaching its prey. There was nothing.

Until there was something.

It came all at once, a cacophony of sounds. A rustling, a voice calling out, and the echo of a bullet leaving its chamber.