"I understand," J.J. said, her cell phone poised at her ear. "Yes, as soon as our team is briefed, we'll be on a plane to Seattle." She paused again, listening, shoving supplies into her bag, trying to remember anything she couldn't live without for the next few days. There was something about Saturdays that always made her feel rushed and disheveled.
But her thoughts were interrupted as her conversation continued. "Really?" she asked. "Oh… no, we don't mind her assistance, it's just… we'll, we're acquainted with her… no, it's not a problem, but I don't think we'll need her help, the BAU is fully capable- I understand, this is your case, we're just assistance, you're absolutely right. I'll inform the unit chief… we'll see you then."
She closed her phone slowly. Her eyes glanced up to see the team assembling in the bull pen. Morgan and Emily were already there, looking exhausted. Their night out apparently had gone a little too late. Her eyes darted up as she saw Reid enter. He seemed better rested than the others, but a film of misery lay over him.
Unsure how to handle this, J.J. rushed out of her office. Not bothering to acknowledge the others, she went directly toward Hotch's door and knocked.
"Come in," he said from inside. J.J. went in, quickly closing the door behind him. Hotch looked to her, concerned.
"There's something you need to know about the Seattle case." She said.
…
Reid set his bags next to his desk, allowing himself to collapse in his chair. Emily stared at him a moment. "Reid, you look worse than I feel."
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Slightly hung-over."
He nodded, not wanting to indulge any further conversation. It was Saturday, it was early, and Reid had another night of restless sleep. Needless to say, his mood matched his energy – low.
"What, Reid, no statistics on the amount of Friday night drinking, no history lesson on the distillation of alcohol?" Morgan asked.
"The term "hangover" meaning "the after affects of night drinking" was first established in 1904." His snapped in a low, monotone voice. "Happy?"
Emily heaved an annoyed sigh. "Reid, I have a question, how much longer is this going to go on?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, we're all tired of the 'Johnny Raincloud' routine. I'm sorry, but it has to be said."
"You're still upset because I didn't want to go out last night?" he asked.
"It's not just last night, Reid, it's every night." Morgan joined in. "It's every day. You never come out with us, you barely talk to us anymore and when you do, it's usually about the case. You won't even sit with us on the plane anymore. And Garcia told me you haven't had anything to do with Henry in months."
"Garcia said?" Reid exclaimed. "You guys talk behind my back more than you talk directly to me!"
"That's because you won't talk to us, Reid." Emily pointed out, standing up. She moved closer to him, sitting on the edge of his desk. "Look we're sorry that Riley was offered a transfer to Seattle and chose her career over you making you the innocent victim and all, but don't punish your friends for what Riley did to you."
"Riley didn't do-… I'm not punishing-…" every time he tried to argue his case, he already felt defeated. Before he could think of a definite thing to say, Rossi had made his first appearance of the morning. Reid fell back in his chair, emotionally exhausted.
Rossi, to-go bag strapped to his shoulder, moved carefully through the group, deciding not to inquire anything about the situation. "Play nice, children."
By that point, Morgan had calmed down. "Look, if you want to keep wallowing over her, that's fine. But you have to know that eventually, this has to stop."
He and Emily moved off, heading towards the coffee. Reid was alone, the way he liked it… but now he felt worse than ever. Heavy a sigh, gathering what strength he had, he followed suit.
Morgan and Emily, coffee in hand, were talking with a spirited Garcia. Apparently, she had taken over as designated driver when Reid bailed out. Reid appeared in the doorway, ceasing conversation.
Taking a deep breath, Reid nodded, trying to find the words. "You… you guys might be right."
"Might be?" Emily asked.
"Alright, I've been a self-pitying jerk for the last seven months! Are you happy now?"
"A little bit," Morgan replied, smiling.
"Hey, guys," J.J. called. Hotch and Rossi headed towards the conference room. "We're ready."
Rossi and Hotch, already seated, were discussing something quietly. Reid was the last one to enter, and at the sight of him, they stopped abruptly.
Exchanging one last glance, Hotch nodded and stood up. "Reid," he said, "We're thinking maybe you should sit this case out. Work with Garcia here or take a few days off if you want."
Confused, Reid looked between the two agents. "Have I done something wrong?" he asked.
"No, Reid, it's not that," Hotch continued, "This case might be… sensitive for you. We'd like you to stay behind."
"Why?" He was feeling edgy. "I don't understand. I'm sorry I haven't performed up to my standards, lately. I'm going to do better; I'm not going to let my personal problems get in the way anymore. You have to believe me."
"We'd like to Reid," Rossi began, not bothering to stand up. "Why don't you listen to the briefing and then make your decision."
Nodding, Reid took a seat next to Emily. What could possibly be so debilitating in this case, the others would want him to stay behind. Out of all his scenarios, he could never have expected what was to come.
"Over the last thirteen months," J.J. began, clicking the remote, "Seattle has been falling victim to an unsub known as the Undertaker. He chooses his victims by people traveling or working alone at night. He kidnaps his victims and the next evening," she clicked another screen as several handwritten letters were shown, each with the same signature "the families receive disturbing notes of the disappearance, signed the Undertaker. All the notes collected, it equals eleven victims. So far, only five have been found. None have ever been discovered alive. The victims have nothing in coming except for being alone at night. Age, race, and gender all vary, although most have been women. No sign of torture or rape has been found. There have been wounds, indicating a blow to the head, and cause of death is suffocation, obviously by being buried alive. The legs and arms are bound with bailing twine and the mouths covered in duct tape.
"His previous MO was to capture a victim every two months, but he's escalated to every few days." She said, turning to the group, away from the screen.
Reid read over the evidence. Seattle. That figures.
"Seattle PD called this morning." J.J. continued. "Maria Engles never came home last night. Her mother found a note with the morning paper. It's from the Undertaker."
Now, J.J. seemed to hesitate. It was obvious there was more, but the ability to speak was complicated. She took a deep breath, glancing at Reid from the corner of her eye. "They also wish us to know we won't be working alone. Along with the Seattle police… they have requested additional assistance from their resident FBI psychiatrist."
Every now found Reid to be the most interesting thing in the room. Surprised and a bit confused, he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "You guys are jumping to conclusions. What makes you think it's going to be her?"
His eyes landed on J.J., who's expression immediately turned sympathic. As searching for evidence, he turned to Rossi, and finally Hotch, both watching him with a stern, unsure appearance.
Shocked, "It is her?"
"Now you see why we think you should stay behind?" Rossi explained.
Reid sat back, trying to think clearly. Staying behind would probably be the best option. Being thrown back into such a serious environment with Riley when he so clearly wasn't over her could cost a lot of damage. He had trouble with his work when she was his therapist. Once they were together, things were better. He had no trouble focusing. Except of course when a case became too intense and therefore kept him away too long.
But he and Riley were over. Just the memory of her was debilitating him. Maybe he needed to face her, and use that get over her.
"Guys, I appreciate that." he said, folding the case file closed. "But I'm a professional, and she's a professional. We can work together."
"Reid, you couldn't even be her patient without sleeping with her." Morgan oh so tactfully pointed out.
"Thanks, Morgan," he said sarcastically. "Look, if you order me to stay, I will, but I want to go. I can go."
Despite his better judgment, Hotch sighed heavily. "Alright, we leave in 30."
Midflight, the team waited on board to arrive in Seattle. After extensive notes and discussion on the case, everyone had dispersed on board. Hotch and Rossi sat closer to the front. Morgan, Emily, and J.J. had gathered in group, playing gin. Reid on the other hand had chosen a corner by himself, a book in hand.
Deciding to invade his space, the three left their game to join him. "Hey, what are reading?" Emily asked.
He held up the cover of the book. A tattered green copy of The Shining.
"You've read that before." Morgan pointed out. "I've seen you with it."
"I'm not really reading it." He said, closing it. "I just…" he shrugged. "It was Riley's."
"Reid," J.J. said in a half whisper. "Are you sure you can handle this?"
"Why do you guys assume I can't handle this?" He hissed out, not wanting to draw the others' attention. "Riley and I are adults."
They wanted to trust their friend, and they would give him the benefit of the doubt. Still, an unsure apprehension hung around them.
Reid on the other hand had knots growing in his stomach. At first, believing he knew her, he was sure Riley would come back after a few weeks. She would come back and they would move on with their lives together and she would love him even more for giving her freedom. But she never returned, she never even contacted him.
He had to come with them. He had Riley Parker in his life for a short time, and that was all he was allowed to have. Now, he would get to see her again; a chance to prove to her, as well as himself, that he could live without her.
