Author: TemporaryUniverse
WC: Chapter 2: 1767 (3601 Total)
Chapter 2: Sleep Tight
Day 2 ~ 6:03 am
REID
He blearily opened his eyes only to find darkness, and he blinked a few times, trying to clear the heaviness from his mind. Even though his eyes were open, it was pitch black. He felt the panic rise in his chest and his head pounded. He struggled to breathe against the tightness in his lungs and desperately tried to calm himself down so that he could think properly. He closed his eyes again, though it made no difference against the dark.
What happened? He asked himself. I can't remember anything. Oh god, why can I not remember? His head was aching, but he wasn't sure why. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. How did I get here? Wait, where is here? That was an important question, one to which he had no answer.
He sifted through the last things he remembered, trying to find answers to the thousands of questions running their way through his mind. A dim memory made its way to the front of his brain. That man. His breathing hitched slightly. He attacked me. Stabbed me with that needle. Drugged me. A small whimper escaped him. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he took deep, measured breaths, working to calm his frantic heart.
As he grew less panicked, he became aware of the fabric over his face. A blindfold, thought the young genius, that's why I can't see anything. This realization gave him a tiny amount of relief. At least he wasn't blind. Reid was scared of the dark, a childish fear, he knew, but he had some pretty compelling reasons for his phobia, mostly involving dark closets and being shut inside lockers during high school.
As Reid continued to calm his breathing, he began to be more aware of his situation. He could feel ropes binding his ankles to the legs of a small, aluminum chair, a fact further confirmed by the feel of cold metal against his spine, and his wrists were handcuffed behind him. It was cold wherever he was, but not uncomfortable. Yet, he thought, it's not uncomfortable yet. He pushed the thought away quickly; he needed to stay focused. There was a blindfold over his eyes, he knew that. He wasn't gagged, though. He felt some comfort at that, but he knew he would need to know more about where he was and what was happening before he began screaming for help.
For now, he would stay quiet, wait, and hope he would learn something that would help him get out of this mess. He was brought out of his thoughts by the sense of a presence in front of him. Reid almost forgot that he was feigning sleep as he felt the man's hot breath on his face, but recovered himself quickly, hoping his abductor hadn't noticed the sudden tension.
UNSUB
The man entered the room quietly, his eyes fixed on Dr. Reid as the young genius slumped unconscious in the chair, as he had been for the past seven hours. He must have used too much sedative, but that didn't really matter, he still had all the time in the world. He continued to watch until the young man showed signs of stirring. He could hear Dr. Reid's panicked breathing slowing and deepening as he tried to calm himself.
He gave the young doctor a few minutes of pretend sleep before he knelt directly in front of the chair. The man noticed the hitch in Dr. Reid's breaths and leaned forward, making the smaller man flinch slightly. He smiled, thinking of the fear he was inducing in his victim as he placed his fingers on the doctor's chin, gently raising it so that if he were to take the blindfold off, he would be staring directly into the other's eyes. Dr. Reid let out an almost silent whimper, and the man's smile widened. "Good morning, Dr. Reid." His tone was menacing, and Dr. Reid flinched under his grasp. He removed the blindfold and stared into the frightened hazel pools that emerged. They blinked as the light hit them, slowly focusing on him, and their look of terror intensified. He laughed as a feeling of satisfaction coursed through him. "Are you ready?"
Day 2 ~ 7:30 am
HOTCH
Hotch entered the conference room and set his tablet on the round table. The only team member present at the moment was the technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. Garcia had wavy blonde hair and was a rather heavyset woman with incredible hacking and computer skills and a bubbly and vibrant personality. People were often shocked by her attire, which tended to be colorful and neon. She wore glasses and her caring, empathetic nature often caused Hotch to worry about her, as she was the one who filtered the horrors that they were witness to. Garcia's defense against the world was her cheerfulness, and the many toys and baubles that she had scattered around her office. Hotch nodded to her as she gave a cheery hello, slightly amused by the way she called him 'sir', though he didn't show it.
Moments after Hotch entered the room, the rest of the team filed in as well. First to drop into his chair was Agent Derek Morgan. The dark-skinned profiler looked tired. The top of his head was shaved clean, it bobbed when the agent nodded to Hotch in greeting. The younger agent raised his coffee mug to his lips, taking a large swallow of the brown liquid as he reviewed some of the information already laid out on the table in front of him.
Morgan was the most physical of the BAU team, and he was the one smashing down the doors during a raid. Hotch knew he had an angry streak and that he could easily turn violent or frustrated. While hotheaded, Morgan was a driving force behind the team, and an expert on obsessional crimes. He had also been a bomb technician and a Chicago police officer before he joined the FBI. Hotch nodded to him in acknowledgment.
Next to sit at the round table was Agent David Rossi, the senior of the BAU, having retired to become an author, only to return later. The respectable-looking Italian man had slightly graying black hair, a goatee, and a sharp wit. He was also the most level-headed of the team, and best at staying collected and objective under pressure, leading him to be the negotiator in any hostage situations.
Agent Emily Prentiss was the last to enter the conference room. Her dark chocolate eyes gazed around the room and she flipped her raven hair over her shoulder, sitting down at her spot on the conference table. She was similar to Dave in her professionalism, and was excellent at compartmentalizing, though she was very driven. She tended to be rather sarcastic, a quality that tended to annoy Hotch, but he appreciated her talents all the same.
It was Prentiss that first stated the question on all their minds, "Where's Reid? He's never late."
"He was here late last night, he may have slept through his alarm. I'll have someone drop by his apartment on the way to the latest crime scene and brief him then." The concern was evident in Hotch's voice, but the team recognized it as a dismissal on the subject, focusing on Garcia as she began the briefing. Hotch forced himself to listen to Garcia talk about the case, reminding himself to call Reid again when they were done.
"Okay, crime fighters, local police called this in about an hour ago. Four men, attacked in random alleyways and stabbed to death. Toby Cross, 28, Michael Willis, 29, Adam Smith, 28, and Jeff Brighton, 32." Garcia clicked the remote in her hand and with a small beep, the victims' smiling faces appeared on the TV display, as well as the brutal crime scene photos of the bodies. Garcia took a deep breath and averted her eyes from the TV. She was always disturbed by the violence in front of her and would need to watch some cute cat videos afterwards. "All total bachelors, we've got a pharmaceutical rep., a graduate student, a nurse, and a cop."
"He killed a cop?" Morgan spoke up.
"Yup, Brighton. The body was found this morning. He'd been stabbed over 40 times." Garcia shuddered.
"So far, the Unsub's killed every other day," Hotch said.
"That's not much of a cooling-off period. Could it be a spree?" Prentiss replied.
"I don't know. This seems far too targeted to be a spree. There's a lot of rage in these kills, the victims were stabbed anywhere between 32, and 46 times. Stabbing someone is physically exhausting, he probably uses the day off to regain his strength and target his next victim, or he could be on a timetable," Dave reasoned.
"Was there a sexual element to the kills?" Prentiss asked Garcia.
"Um, well, apparently there was too much, um, mutilation, for the ME to determine if they were sexually assaulted in the preliminary report. They expect to give you an answer when they have completed all the autopsies. Also, the amount of damage to victim's faces from the knife made it difficult to ID them," the colorful woman replied, clearly uncomfortable.
"The act of stabbing itself could provide him the sexual release he needs if there was no rape," Morgan said. "Given the similarities between the victims, they're all around 30 years old, successful jobs, brown hair and eyes, they could be surrogates for someone."
The briefing continued for another ten minutes, the brainstormed ideas becoming less certain and less plausible. Eventually, Agent Hotchner ended it.
"Alright, everyone, meet back here in an hour. Then I want Morgan and Prentiss to go to the crime scene and Brighton's house. I'll call Reid and you go pick him up on your way. JJ, talk to the families. Garcia, you and I will stay here, go over victimology. Dave, can you head to the morgue and wait for that report? Let's see if we can determine why these people were chosen and who this Unsub might be," Hotch ordered them all.
Everyone stood up, tipping back the last dregs of their coffee, and gathering up their files, before departing the room, determined to catch this killer. Hotch watched them go before pulling out his phone and dialing a familiar number.
"Hello, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. I can't come to the phone right now, so please leave a message after the tone."
Hotch sighed, ending the call. Where are you, Reid?
