Chapter Forty: Swan Song
"Spence, I know you're in there."
J.J. knocked again on the apartment door.
"C'mon, this isn't going to help anything," she crossed her arms, pushing down the feeling inside of her that maybe he wasn't behind that door.
No response.
The feeling was getting harder to ignore.
So, naturally, she kicked the door down.
Splintered wood scattered around the dusty floor of Reid's apartment. The lights were off and all the curtains were drawn.
"Reid?" J.J. said aloud, not expecting a response. She raised her gun, more out of habit than concern for her safety. She peered into the bedroom and bathroom, no one was there. The drawers were missing large chunks of clothes, his passport was missing, there was hardly any food in the whole place. He'd gone somewhere – somewhere out of country, and somewhere he'd been planning to go for at least a few days. He'd told no one. Not even her.
She hated how that sentence had popped into her head. They hadn't been as close in the past year as they used to be, he had a life of his own, he was no longer young, dorky Spencer who needed help to talk to girls or have a drink.
Defeated, she sank into a kitchen chair and stared at the broken door. She was going to have to get that fixed before he came back from wherever he'd gone…
Maybe she should use Garcia to track his passport. This could be about Cat Adams – the weird connection those two had, it was undeniable to everyone even though no one wanted it to be true. There was no good ending for him and her, surely, he could see that?
"Your door looks different," Cat commented.
Those were the first words either of them had spoken aloud to each other since they left Dante bleeding out in that hotel room. In silence they had taken two flights and landed in Dallas, and in silence they had taken a cab to Reid's apartment.
"It does," he replied, tilting his head sideways, "how would you know that? You've never been here."
She smirked, which was enough response for Reid. Why did he even bother to ask how she knew things.
He unlocked the door and stepped in. The first thing that caught his eye was two or three splinters of wood nested in the floorboards. Dots connected in his head.
"What now?" Cat watched his eyes scan the room, he made a shushing motion and ran his hand along the underside of a small table near the door. Finding nothing, he repeated the motion on a few more pieces of furniture before stopping at the coffee table and pulling a small recording device off it.
Reid could feel the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. It had been too long since he'd had a decent meal or enough sleep, his mind was racing to formulate a plan that would somehow get them both out of this alive. He'd forgotten about Carlyle and the whole Italian affair. The only way out of this was to focus all the energy on that operation, to excuse all his behavior in the name of preventing the project from going wrong. He leapt up and ran for the door, not looking to see what Cat was doing.
She stood there, not quite knowing what he was thinking – what he was planning. She could run, like she used to, he couldn't save her now.
"Reid?"
"Where the hell have you been?"
"You haven't answered calls, you've – where are you going?"
Reid pushed aside the team, no matter how much he wanted to greet them he needed to get this done before it was too late.
"I don't have time to explain but I need you to get a message to the top for me," he slammed Prentiss's door shut and closed the blinds.
"Reid what are you talking about?" Prentiss rose and leaned in closer, keeping her voice low. "You can't come bursting in here after disappearing to God knows where doing God knows what and…"
"I know, I'm sorry, but it was not something I could share. You need to call and tell them that Project Osiris is compromised and if they don't pull out the information, they're so worried about is going to change hands to someone who will actually use it."
Prentiss blinked, but she knew Reid would never act this way unless it was justified. She dialed the phone, asking for the head and repeating Reid's message. She nodded a few times and then slammed the phone into the receiver.
"What did they say?"
"Nothing," Prentiss paced back and forth, and was about to speak again when there was an insistent pounding on her office door.
"Agent Spencer Reid?" An aggressive and authoritative voice sounded through the wood panel, "We have a warrant for your arrest."
Reid jumped up. He had no choice but to open it. As soon as he did, he was thrown against the wall and patted down – his gun was taken and his hands were cuffed behind hit back. From out of the corner of his eye he saw Cat being held by officers, despite her best efforts to break free. He had barely thought about her back at the apartment, she must've followed him there or been picked up. He heard the hazy sound of the man cuffing him reading his rights, but nothing seemed really happening. Prentiss was trying to draw and explanation out of them, telling them to back off or show the official warrant, threatening to call their supervisors, and anything she could say to stop it. But they didn't stop. They dragged Reid out to the stairwell and down into the main room. He could also see J.J. and Rossi looking on in horror, the former of which was being physically restrained by Luke. Nothing felt real. Until a booming voice brought the crisp definition of real life back to all his 5 senses.
"And what are we doing here?"
An older man with white hair and an impenetrably solemn expression stood near the doorway, his hands folded neatly in front of him. He looked from Reid and Cat to the men restraining them.
"Let these fine people go! Don't you know they're some of our most valuable assets?"
The officers, who obviously knew this man and recognized an absolute authority in him, hesitated as they loosened their grips.
"Sir we were given explicit orders from the office of –"
"Do you think I don't know that, given that office is below mine?" The man let out a cold chuckle, "I say that order is invalid. Let them go."
Prentiss stepped forward, a look of recognition dawning on her face.
"You. Who are you? Who is he?" She asked the officers. They remained silent.
"I'm merely here to help." He smiled, watching the men uncuff Reid and Cat. "And it seems, my work here is done. And thank you, by the way," he approached Reid and patted him on the shoulder, "for killing two birds with one stone."
Reid felt a wash of icy fear looking into this man's eyes. His outer appearance was grandfatherly and clam, but without any warmth or safety to accompany it. The man looked over at Cat, who met his gaze with equal coldness.
"We'll find a use for you," he took a few steps closer, leaning in to whisper, "but remember, wherever you go, whoever you see, whatever you say, it will all come back to me one way or another. And if you get a message requesting your services, I hope, for your own sake, you respond with alacrity."
"That's the only way I ever do respond."
He smiled, taking a few steps back to survey the room of onlookers.
"I'm so sorry for the interruption! This was all one huge mistake, these two agents were merely doing their job and it was due to lack of inter-department communication they were falsely placed under arrest." His smile seemed to reassure the majority of the room, who returned to their cubicles and papers. And just like that, he was gone as quickly as he came. The officers who had placed them under arrest excused themselves, and soon things seemed starkly and inappropriately normal.
The team practically descended on Reid with hugs and welcome homes, while Cat stood off to the side, feeling the confused and angry side glances thrown her way. What did she care? She was free. Not free to do whatever she wanted, but free enough that she didn't have to run. It seemed like the slate had finally been wiped clean, but at what cost? What price would she have to pay when eventually that man wanted to call in his dog?
"So," Prentiss took a deep breath and approached Cat cautiously, "I suppose it's been a long time since anyone here has seen you."
Cat nodded curtly. The rest of the team were listening closely. They seemed more confused than angry now. Trying to understand how the person they saw in front of them was the same person they put in jail not too many years ago. The person who had terrorized their colleague and friend – and whom that same colleague and friend had gone out of his way to find.
"I don't know what happened or what changed when they employed your services," Prentiss continued, "and I don't really understand how we even got here, but from what it seems like, you and Agent Reid did good work, which counts for something."
She extended her hand. Cat looked at it, trying to figure out what the catch or trick was.
"I'm not saying all is magically forgiven, but it's not my forgiveness that needed giving, it was Reid's, and it looks like he's given it – so who am I to argue." Prentiss added.
Cat sighed and shook her outstretched hand.
"I don't do friends and forgiveness, but I worked hard enough to find some freedom, which I will take advantage of by leaving now."
Prentiss took a step back and nodded. Cat gave a mock salute and slipped out the door.
"Aren't you gonna follow her?" Luke shoved Reid towards the door.
"Luke," J.J. couldn't withhold a smile, "don't do that."
"Why not? I wasn't here when that woman did whatever made you guys hate her, but I have been here to watch Reid get all mopey in her absence."
Reid pushed his hair back and shrugged.
"I should at least say goodbye…"
"You should," Luke opened the door for him, "go."
Reid walked into the foyer and out into the street, the sun was setting and there was light rain misting the city. He saw her sitting by a bus stop.
"So, I don't get a goodbye?"
She didn't look at him as he took a seat next to her.
"Do you even have bus fare?"
"No," she laughed a little, "I just figured I'd find a way."
"You're good at that, finding a way."
There was silence as they watched the rain slowly fall heavier.
"I dunno what I thought would happen when we got back," she said softly, "no one in your life would ever see me as anything other than who I was – you would never see me as anything else… maybe I'm not anything else."
She turned to look at him, their eyes meeting with such intensity it was impossible to look away.
"Who you were," Reid traced his thumb along the back of her hand, "was a person responding to pain. You had a need to control, a need to fight – to win. More than that, you were scared. But there are things that help. People help, therapy helps, not running from a fresh start helps."
"You're such a profiler," she intertwined her fingers with his and leaned in closer, "what help is there for someone who already did all the wrong things?"
"All that's left for that person is doing the right things now," he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. She let her hand glide across his jawline and her fingers trace the outline of his mouth, his hand slid down her arm and to her waist, pulling her closer. His other hand brushed her collarbone and glided up her neck, resting his thumb below her chin. Their lips met in a deep kiss. One that wasn't stolen or forbidden, one that was safe in reality and a sure, foundation for many more. It was nothing like the kiss they shared in Russia, which was new and breathless and scary. This one brought them together with a gentleness that was not scared of getting hurt, that exposed itself to feel the full measure of intimacy because it was finally sure of safety. When their lips parted from that first kiss, they felt a magnetic force bringing them back together, to let their hands wander and not end the sweet, cool drink of water that feeling was to them. His hands were tangled in her hair, hers were pressed against his chest, out of breath and emotionally drained they finally collapsed into each other. She curled against him, her face hidden in his shirt. He kissed her head, feeling her break into sobs beneath him. They sat like that for a while. The street was empty. Empty for as long as they needed it.