A/N: Whew! I managed to upload this right before the New Year!

Enjoy! (...or don't...)

Chapter 15:

Reid silently sat under the tree, staring up at the sky. He watched as the rain fell, not caring that he was getting soaked. He was vaguely aware that he was shivering. This wasn't the first time he had been out in the rain, but had he always shivered so violently? Did it always rattle his entire body, shaking him to the core?

If Reid had been more focused, he would have noticed how his entire body had become as numb as he felt. He was chilled to the bone as though he had been buried in snow and left to die. His chapped lips quivered as though he were whispering a secret. He rarely blinked—eyes trained on the sky he could hardly see beyond the pouring rain. Somewhere in the distance, there was a flash of light, followed by a loud crack and a slight rumbling in the ground.

But none of that mattered.

He had forgotten what mattered.

Why was he there? He couldn't remember anymore. What was this place? How did he get here? Was there something he was supposed to be doing? Did he have a purpose being here? Did he have a purpose at all?

Yet another raindrop hit his eye, and he reflexively blinked it away. At some point while sitting there, he had begun wheezing. His breath caught in his throat, and he coughed lightly a few times, never making any other attempts at movement. He was in pain, but he was too numb to realize it. His lungs burned, and stomach felt contorted. His fingers were sharply sore, and bones ached. His head pounded mercilessly, and his heartbeat labored. Multiple parts of his body were bruised from his earlier assault.

Somewhere, off in the distance, he heard a sound. If he hadn't been shivering, he would have felt a vibration against his thigh. It took several seconds for it to register somewhere in his brain that his phone was ringing. He knew it was most likely his team, but he made no attempts to retrieve the device. He sat slumped against the tree, and the ringing eventually ceased.

His mind held a swirling cloud of distant thoughts—all of them choppy whispers with changing voices. They were so far away from the forefront of his mind, and Reid barely acknowledged them. Who's thoughts were they anyway? They couldn't be his. This wasn't his body, his mind. Who was he right now?

So many thoughts rotated in his mind (no, not his mind. Someone else's. Someone who just-so-happened to have the same life and memories as Spencer Reid.).

Should I have answered? It's just the team. They're not going to care. It was the team. Should have answered. They don't care. Spencer, they don't care about you. They might be worried. If they care, they will call back. They won't call back. Should have answered. Don't answer. They'll know… They'll know. Don't want them to know. Don't ever let them know. They can't—don't answer it. But what if—they won't call back—no one cares. They can't help you. They can't ever know. They will hate you. They already hate me. They just tolerate you—tolerate me. Hate me—hate me. If they care—they don't care. They haven't called back—they won't call back—they have forgotten you. Forget me. They'll leave you here to die. They should. Be free of me. You're ugly, Spencer. Who would love me? Who would love you? They only tolerate—never understand—they could… I want them to—they can never understand. They hate you. I hate you. You deserve it. I deserve it. Don't call, don't call, don't call. I know you don't care—why did you call? You don't care. Please, call again. They don't care about you. Need someone. They should forget you. Don't want to be alone. Don't want to—they hate you—die alone. Who could ever love—please, someone. Need—they can't stand you—a sign. You're ugly—fat—ugly—worthless. Need a sign. Pathetic. Am I real? You shouldn't even exist. I'm sorry. You're a burden. Don't burden them. Don't make them tolerate you anymore. I'm sorry. But I don't—so selfish, selfish, selfish—want to be alone. You're afraid. I'm afraid. Don't want to be alone. Help me. Save me. No one can hear you. PLEASE! Scream, scream, scream. No one cares. No one can help you. You don't deserve it. If they call again—they won't call. Was that a sign? You're pathetic. Was that what I was waiting for? If they care—they don't care—they've never cared—they'll call again—they won't call. Be alone, alone, alone. Is it a sign? So alone. Should I wait? They won't call. Please call. They won't call. Need someone. I'm waiting, waiting, waiting. They don't care. They don't care. They never cared. Who could love me? Please, someone. Alone, alone. Help. Don't deserve. Please, call. Hate you. Need someone. Worthless. Burden. Please...

The thoughts raged on in Reid's mind. So many thoughts, so many voices, none of them his own. He had forgotten how to find his own thoughts. Did he even have thoughts of his own? It was all so very, very far. His mind was blank, yet so very loud and busy.

Move. I can't. Don't want to. I should. Can't. Worthless...

So many conversations were taking place at once. He could not focus on any of them. They were all sporadic and too quick to process.

Help. Don't deserve—call—no one—they don't care—alone, alone…

Reid's eyes moved from side to side as he stared up into the sky, as though he were searching for something. His fingers on his right hand twitched slightly.

Who could ever—so useless. Hurts. So pathetic and fat and ugly and—am I in pain? You deserve it. Can't feel. Can't feel anything. Don't want to feel. Feeling hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Pathetic. Not good—shut off emotions—not good. Don't care, don't care, don't care. Why haven't they—am I wet? Who cares, who cares, who cares? Can't do this. You're weak. You're a horrible person. I'm pathetic. Don't want to keep doing this. So tired. So stupid. Want to rest. Can't stop. Don't want to keep doing this. Quitter, loser. Want to stop this. You can't. You never can. Tired of being tired. Lazy, disgusting. Want to rest. Gauche, moronic. Rest—grotesque, loathsome, wretched, filthy—forever. Forever…

Reid's eyes widened slightly when he heard the familiar tone again.

Don't answer. It's a trick. They don't care. But they called again. Lies, lies, lies, lies. Could they? Do they really? They don't care. They hate you. Burden.. Maybe they can—horrible, greedy—help? Maybe, maybe, maybe…

Reid somehow managed to slowly lift his arm and slide his hand into his pocket. As he pulled out the wet device, it stopped ringing.

They don't care. They won't call again. They don't—

Reid nearly startled when the phone started vibrating again. Without any consideration, he raised the phone to his ear as he hit the appropriate button.

"REID!" The loud cry was enough to snap Reid into a slightly more aware state of mind.

"M-Morgan?" He stuttered. It was then that he realized that he was freezing. His teeth chattered despite his attempts to stop them. How long had he been out there?

"Yeah, it's me." The voice on the other line was somewhat soothing to Reid's ears. It was almost as though the voice was wrapping a blanket around Reid, assuring him that it will be all right. Reid resented himself for relying so heavily on Morgan and the other teams members. Surely, they were tired of him using them as a means to feel secure and safe. "Where are you?" Morgan asked with an urgency in his voice. Reid interpreted it as sharpness and winced internally.

"I-I-I..." Reid swallowed and cleared his throat, willing his stutter to go away. He didn't need Morgan seeing him as even weaker than he already was. "I d-don't know..."

"What?" Morgan asked in disbelief.

"I d-d-don't…" Reid swallowed again and sat up a bit. "I w-was w-walking and en-ended up-p here."

"All right, all right. Why don't you look around, try to find some street names, and I'll drive over to where you are."

"O-okay." Reid agreed as he slowly—painfully—hoisted himself off the ground.

"Reid? Are you all right? You keep stuttering."

"I'm f-fine. Just c-c-cold." He struggled to move his feet but eventually began what somewhat resembled a walk.

"Cold? Oh, no, don't tell me you're still outside." Reid heard the disappointment (but not the concern) that laced Morgan's voice. He winced outwardly this time.

"I, um… I w-was in a, in a park."

"Reid, it is raining cats and dogs out there! It's going to start thunder-storming soon! What the hell are you doing wandering around?!" Morgan's voice had dropped to a whisper. Reid thought it was out of embarrassment for him. In actuality, Morgan did not wish to worry the team anymore than they already were. Reid was about to apologize when Morgan spoke again: "Have you found any street names yet?"

Reid looked to where he had walked to. There was a sign about ten feet away, but he could not make out the letters. "Umm, just a second..." As he got nearer to the sign, he realized that he did not have his contacts in. After all, he had been kicked off the case. There was no point in putting them in.

The case. Did the team have to pause their investigation just to figure out where I am? Another woman could have died! What the hell kind of agent am I?! So selfish, stupid, worthless…

"Reid?" Morgan worried from the silence.

"Hmm? Oh, uh, I s-see a st-st-street c-called 'W-Wink-kler.'"

"So a park near Winkler," Morgan muttered to himself. "Reid, listen to me. I want you to find a building—a gas station, a library, store, anything—and I want you to go in there and stay there, all right? I'm coming for you."

"O...Okay."

"Good. Find a place and don't leave until I arrive. I'll be there soon. Try to get yourself warm, kid."

"Um...yeah..."

"See you soon," Morgan commented before hanging up.

Reid stood there, still holding the phone to his ear in a daze. After a long moment, he suddenly remembered what Morgan told him.

I need to find a building.

He began to drag his feet along the concrete, searching for the nearest place to find refuge in. The small bit of awareness Reid achieved from the conversation faded away, and his mind was once again consumed by a cloud of thoughts.

Don't even know where you are. Where am I? Nebraska—Winkler—where? Not normal—memorized map by now—useless. Don't know—just a child. A child? Morgan called you "kid". A child. Weak, hopeless. Go find a safe place—stay there—wait for parent—childish, childish. Wait for Morgan—childish. Can't survive on your own. Don't even know where I—will he even come—leave you—leave me.

Reid ceased in his roaming when he found himself outside of a convenience store called "Blud's Haven".

Go inside—get warm—stay there—wait for him—like a ch—like a child.

Reid hesitantly pushed open the door and slipped inside. The man at the register was busy with a female shopper, and there only seemed to be one other customer at the back of the store. Reid, unsure of what to do, moved to the area next to the doors. He found himself standing in a corner, jammed between a shelf full of snacks and a magazine rack. Reid was vaguely aware of the heat inside the store gradually warming his body. He noticed that he was creating a puddle on the floor and shifted awkwardly.

Burden—can't do anything right—repulsive—will he come?—disgusting.

After a few minutes, Reid's trembling legs could no longer support him. He gently slid down to the floor. The woman who was previously shopping gave him an odd look as she left. The cool air from the opened door caused Reid to shudder and wrap his arms around his legs as he huddled in on himself. He sneezed, sending another chill through his body and causing him to hold himself even tighter.

The other customer left, leaving Reid as the only guest left in the store during an oncoming thunderstorm.

"Hey. Hey, buddy. Hey." Reid's head snapped up in response to the unfamiliar voice and a finger poking at his sore body. "Hey, you all right?"

Reid recognized the man as the cashier. He was actually a little younger than Reid with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Reid blinked, suddenly realizing that he had dozed off for a few minutes.

"Mm..." Reid attempted to speak, but it seemed as though his lips and tongue were reluctant to cooperate. He settled for a nod instead.

"You certainly don't look all right. What are you doing here?"

Reid tried again to talk. "Mm..." He cleared his throat and licked his chapped lips. "I'm w-waiting f-f-for som-somebody," he spoke quietly and somewhat raspily.

"Ah, I see. Are you waiting for your parents?" Reid simply blinked at the man. "Do you know how long it will be until your parents arrive?" Reid tentatively shook his head. "Hmm. You were told to wait here?" Reid nodded. The man sighed. "Well, this is a bit of a problem. See, we normally can't have people just hanging around in here. But… The boss is on his lunch, so what he doesn't know..." The man smirked. "What's your name, kid?"

"...Sp-Spencer?"

The man held out his hand, and Reid gently took it. "Nice to meet you, Spencer. My name is Joshua. How long were you out in the rain, Spencer?" Reid shook his head while slightly shrugging. He coughed a few times and promptly curled into himself more to capture as much body heat as possible. "I think you might be getting a cold, Spencer." Reid merely shivered in response. "Hold on, I'll be right back. Stay there, okay?" With that, Joshua disappeared into some room in the back of the store.

"Are you waiting for your parents? What's your name, kid?" Kid. Kid. You're a child to them. Hold old does he think—just a child. Children are weak. I'm older than him. Children can't protect themselves. Children can't do things on their own. "Do you know how long it will be until your parents arrive?" Just a child. Can't take care-"waiting for your parents?" A child. "Stay here, okay?" "Find a place and don't leave until I arrive... Try to get yourself warm, kid." "I was just making sure you're in the right mind-set and you're focusing on the job. There's no need to get defensive, kid." Just a child. Weak, helpless. Kid, kid, kid, kid…

"Here you go." Reid nearly jumped when he heard Joshua's voice again. He watched cautiously as a towel was placed around his body. "You should dry up."

He doesn't care. You're a child—only wants to keep you from dying—so helpless—doesn't want to be charged for not a helping a child in need—so frail...

"Hey, Spencer, you don't look very healthy. Here, why don't I grab you a hot meal?" Reid made a noise of protest. "Don't worry about it. You don't have to pay anything. It's on the house! Do you want a TV dinner or a sandwich?" Reid opened his mouth to speak but never got the chance. "Really, you look like you could use both. Be back in a few minutes, all right? Just gonna heat these up." And then Joshua was gone again.

Don't wanna eat—hungry—shouldn't eat…

Spencer felt a sudden chill course its way through his body and attempted to huddle even more. He glanced around the store as he began to slowly dry himself with the towel he had been given. Flashes of the previous night entered his mind. It was impossible to believe that less than 24 hours had passed between now and the last time he was in a convenience store.

Protein pills. Never got—could now. Stealing—pathetic. Just a pathetic, fat child.

Even if Reid wanted to look for dietary supplement pills, he could not will himself to move other than to dry himself. He almost had the urge to laugh at what a mess he had become.

Joshua came out of the room a moment later, holding a TV dinner in one hand and a pre-packaged sandwich in the other. Both were processed foods. And processed foods always meant more calories than necessary. Reid wanted to scream. His stomach, however, made a different kind of noise. He hated himself for subconsciously licking his lips.

"Here you go, Spencer! Eat up!" Reid shook his head. "What's wrong? Is it too hot or something?" Reid shook his head more impatiently. He felt trapped. He was crammed in a corner, soaked and chilled to the bone, with a strange man feigning politeness while trying to force him to eat garbage. Garbage that smelled rather good. Garbage that made his stomach angry and his lungs almost choke on the aroma. He coughed again, causing his lungs to ache even more.

"Jeez, Spencer, you really are sick, aren't you?" Joshua placed the food on the front desk, not far from the register. "I'll go find you some cough medicine. Then, you can eat, okay?" Reid made more sounds of protests but they were ultimately ignored as Joshua began to scan the medicine isle.

Thankfully, it was at that moment that the door opened to reveal none other than Derek Morgan. Morgan glanced around the stored before his eyes finally fell on Reid.

"Reid! It's about time I found you!" He rushed over to the younger agent. "Why haven't you been answering your phone? I must have called you at least twenty times!" Reid cocked his head in confusion, pulling out his phone. He pressed a few buttons, but nothing happened.

"I th-think it's dead," Reid apologized quietly.

Morgan sighed. "Figures," he muttered to himself.

Figures. You're so useless—figures. Can't even charge a—so helpless—figures.

"Took me so long to get here because I had to check every gas station and store on this street to see where you were," Morgan explained as he helped Reid stand.

"Um, excuse me?" Morgan turned to face Joshua, who had a bottle of cough syrup in his hand. "Are you his parent?"

"Parent? What? No, I'm his best friend. I'm here to take him home."

"Sir, if you try to take this boy, I'm afraid I'm going to have to call the police," Joshua threatened, pulling out his phone.

Morgan stared at him in disbelief for a moment before sighing and taking out his badge. He watched as Joshua's eyes widened. "Reid is my co-worker. We both work for the F.B.I."

"F.B..." Joshua looked over to the man he previously thought was a lost boy. "Uhhh…."

"I appreciate you helping him," Morgan said as he handed the towel back to Joshua. "I'll take it from here."

With that, the two agents exited the store, leaving a confused cashier in their wake. Reid said nothing as Morgan opened the door to the SUV for him. He remained silent as Morgan entered the car and started the ignition. Morgan wordlessly handed a blanket to Reid before driving away. The short drive back to the hospital was silent, apart from the sounds of the road and the gentle wheezes of Reid's breathing as he dozed off against the car window…

A/N: I'm surprised that this chapter came out as long as it did. Also, I feel as though parts of this chapter were a little difficult to read/get into for people other than myself… :/
(and Kudos to the awesome people who understood the "Blud's Haven" reference!)

REVIEW RESPONSES:

CM-Reider: Thanks! :)

ThatBigBlueBox: Ah, another Whovian! :3 All right, I'll add more of that in future chapters.

Tie-Dyed Broadway: My favorite is 10, and my second or third-favorite (depends on the day, I guess) is 3. Agreed on RTD (BTW, what's your opinion on Chibnall taking over in 2018?). My favorite companion is Martha—she is so underrated (but I'm not going to go on a rant about that now). Donna is actually my least-favorite RTD companion, and perhaps second-least-favorite New Who companion (Here's to hoping Clara stays gone!).
Well, I'm guilty of all of those things, but I would never abandon a story that has caught the attention of so many people, even if I do grow tired of it. "You are an amazing writer, and because of that you'll get everything you deserve in life." If only life were that simple... :/

cordelia. Watsinhimer: Not as soon as I would have liked, but I got there eventually thanks to a certain site. "and that everything in your world is going good." Umm... I'm going to choose not to comment on that last part...

Doclover: :D

Hippiechic81: Maaaybeee. Guess it depends on whether I feel like being a jerk or not when I write the final chapters... :D

Guest: Well, I managed to squeeze this chapter in before the year's end, so that's "soon", right?

Tina: And now you don't have to wait! Well...until the next chapter...which might take a while... :/

matt: Yeah, but I did not make much from it, and I spent quite a bit of time on it...

TO MY WHOVIAN REIDERS: I'm thinking about writing (eventually...probably not any time soon, since I have other fics to work on) a Doctor Who/Criminal Minds fanfiction. How is this for a plot?
The Doctor (probably Tenth since he's my favorite, but it's not definite) with or without his companion accidentally crosses over to another universe. In this universe, he is seen as a fictional character in a show called "Doctor Who". He is without his TARDIS, but the world is similar enough to the Earth he knows that he can manage on his own. He finds out that he was actually pulled to this world (accidentally or intentionally) by some alien being that has disguised itself and integrated into the human population as part of a plot. In order to get closer to this alien and get back to his own universe, The Doctor must go undercover, using his psychic paper and wisdom to climb into the upper layers of the government. (And he has some sort of device that hides his true appearance, since he is known as a TV characters.) When a mysterious series of murders occur, The Doctor knows it is the creature. He must work with the BAU's most elite profiling team in order to track down the fiend. (And for laughs, he gets into debates with Reid and Garcia about Doctor Who at some point.) But as time goes on, The Doctor is at greater risk of his identity being discovered (maybe the device he used to disguise himself has a time limit that slowly reveals parts of who he is). He knows that if this world—one in which those who believe in aliens are seen as insane—discovers who he really is, they will capture him and dissect him. It is now more important than ever that he finds the alien and gets back home. (And, possibly, if his device stops working and Reid finds out who he is, Reid can help hide him and such?)
Sound like a good story? There are only a handful of DW/CM fanfics out there, and I wanted mine to be something a bit more realistic so that it better fits in with the CM world...