-Hidden in a Memory
CHAPTER: 2?
J.J. slowly opened the hospital door, careful to make as little sound as humanly possible. Peeking inside her heart actually fluttered when she saw the topic of everyone's concern sleeping peacefully on the bed, a light blanket thrown over the top of him, his hands tucked under his head.
It fluttered again when she saw everyone's father figure leaning back in a chair beside the bed, his feet braced up on the foot of the bed, his head back, his eyes closed, his breathing calm and even. Gideon had fallen asleep while looking after his youngest.
If it wasn't for the situation, J.J. would have been tempted to snap a keep-sake picture.
But, as for the situation…
She stepped over to Gideon and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Gideon?" she whispered, glancing quickly to Reid, assuring herself that she hadn't disturb him.
Gideon's eyes instantly snapped open, making the girl wonder if he had been asleep in the first place. He looked up at her, blinked, then looked at the bed and his sleeping agent. Dropping his feet to the floor, he stood up and stepped over to the bed. He laid a gentle hand on the boy's head, assuring himself that Reid was indeed just sleeping and hadn't, god forbid, slipped away from him.
Reid adjusted slightly, mumbling something, but, slipped silently back into a deep sleep.
Gideon's eyes closed lightly, breathing a sigh of relief. Then he turned to J.J. and waved to the door. Once outside, the door carefully closed behind them, Gideon crossed his arms over his chest and offered the girl a half smile. "What do we have?"
J.J. took a deep breath and got down to business. "The blood in the shack has nothing to do with Reid. Only yesterday morning the locals chased a couple of poachers out of there. They had been draining their kills, thus all the blood, before loading it in the truck street side."
Gideon nodded. "How did they find Reid?" he wanted to know.
"A driver called in to the sheriff's office, claiming that the car in front of her was driving erratically before tossing what she assumed was a trash bag out the passenger side back door." J.J. shrugged. "They have a fairly tight neighborhood watch, called it in right away, and the locals hurried out to check it out. They didn't find any trash, but, knowing the shack was the local trouble spot, they thought to check it out… just in case."
"And they found Reid." the older agent concluded.
J.J. nodded. "He was kneeling in the blood, unresponsive and with no id. They ran his fingerprints, found out who he was, called Hotch."
Gideon nodded. "And here we are." He reached up to scratch his chin before asking "What did Hotch find at Reid's apartment?"
J.J. shuffled slightly. "An un-sub." she mumbled, glancing away.
The older agent frowned, not liking her tone. An un-sub, another piece of this puzzle, very possibly the answer to this puzzle. So why the oh-oh sort of tone. "And?" he coaxed.
"She got away." the girl answered just a little too quickly, like she just wanted to get it over with quick, like pulling off a band aid.
Gideon's eyes narrowed. "She got away?" he repeated.
Okay, mistakes happen.
Elle was young and still learning a rope here and there.
Hotch wasn't super agent even if he was the closest thing the FBI had to one.
Still…
"They're waiting for a crime scene unit to arrive at the apartment before they go any further." J.J. explained after deciding not to go further into the "she got away" information. Hotch and Elle were both very capable of explaining that for themselves without her taking any of the heat.
Not that they were overly afraid of heat from Gideon. He was everyone's father figure.
But they were talking about his youngest here, and you didn't need to be a profiler to know how a father feels about his youngest.
Gideon nodded slightly. "There was evidence of a crime then? There at the apartment?"
"They didn't go into details other than the un-sub was found on the property and Reid's weapon seems to be missing." J.J. shrugged. "One, by itself is, of course, suspicious enough. Together…." She left the obvious unsaid.
Gideon nodded slightly. Stepping pass her to the observation window, he looked in on his sleeping agent. Crossing his arms over his chest once again, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Someone took him from his home, drugged him, cut on him, and…. What? Were they done with him so discarded him? And, if so, what did they want from him? Did they get it?"
"Or did he escape?" J.J. added, coming to stand beside him, looking through the window at Reid, trying to imagine what he must have gone through and not really wanting to know. She didn't want to know that the horrors that they handled every day as part of some one else's lives could actually be part of one of their own.
"Escape." Gideon breathed. "And, if so, do they still want him? Will they come after him again?"
J.J. wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
Gideon glanced at her. "Are you alright?"
She offered him a sad smile. "I was just wondering how he must have felt, what he was thinking…." She shook her head slightly. "They had him for three days, Gideon." She looked up at him. "Did he hear a sound and thought, maybe, finally, we had come to rescue him? Did he wonder why we didn't stop them from hurting him?" Again she shivered. "He must have been scared to death."
"Kid's tougher than that." Morgan offered as he and Dr.Wesslim walked up. Morgan stopped beside J.J. and hung a friendly arm around her shoulders, flashing an encouraging smile.
"Beside it's doubtful he remembered enough from day one to be scared." Dr. Wesslim explained as she came to stand beside Gideon, looking in on her patient. She smiled slightly. "He's sleeping." she observed, taking a moment to make a note on her clip board. When she turned her attention to the other agents, she continued her explanation. "Dr. Reid's blood shows many different deteriorate levels of a compound of drugs, indicating that he has been receiving continuous doses for at least sixty hours. At the rate of deterioration, I would say about every two hours, just as the previous dose would be weakening."
"A compound of what drugs?" Gideon asked. "And is it the reason he can't remember?"
"It is the reason, at least in most part." Wesslim confirmed. "We're still trying to identify all the individual ingredients, but the bulk of it is a complex blend of Xanaxhydroxybutyrate, Rohypnol, and Kerasine."
J.J. frowned. "Rohypnol? The date-rape drug?"
Morgan's head snapped around. "He wasn't…"
The doctor shook her head. "Keep in mind that I have yet to perform a theral exam, but, watching him move, his reactions… I would say no, Dr. Reid has not been raped."
J.J. let out her breath in a long sigh of relief. "Thank god."
Morgan was likewise relieved, running a hand over his face, wiping away the sweat that had suddenly appeared on his brow.
Gideon was scratching his chin. "Xanax, a tranquilizer. Hydroxybutyrate and Rohypnol, both memory effecting. Kerasine…?" He paused, glancing at the doctor. "How do you know about that?"
Dr. Wesslim continued to look through the window at the sleeping boy. "We are a major hospital in Quantico, Virginia. We hold all medical contracts with every government agency in the state. What makes you think I would not know about a government tested drug that makes the subject highly susceptible to hypnotic suggestion and/or brainwashing?"
"Someone was trying to brainwash our kid?" Morgan growled, knowing more than he ever really wanted to know about the tactics used by that particular arm of government.
"Brainwashing?" J.J. repeated. She shook her head. "Why would…. anyone want to brainwash Reid?"
Gideon straightened. "One answer leads to more questions." He turned to Wesslim. "How do we bring him down?"
Dr. Wesslim sighed. "I hesitate to add any more chemicals to a system that is already over dosed. I think, at this point, we should just leave him be to come down naturally. We'll treat the withdraw symptoms with mild treatments, keep him comfortable, under control." She finally looked at Gideon. "It may be a rough withdraw, and I can't give you any answers about his memory until the drug is completely out of his system. I won't know what damage has been done until then, whether it is permanent or not."
"How long?"
Wesslim shrugged. "At this rate of dissipation… sixteen, twenty-four hours. " She paused. "In all honesty, I have seen these drugs used before, but not in this mix and not with a brain as unique as Dr. Reid's. We are in uncharted waters here."
Gideon nodded. After a moment of thought, he turned to his two agents. "Stay here with Reid. Talk with him, try to jog his memory. There is only one person who can tell us who did this. And that who just might come back to make sure he doesn't tell anyone." That said, he turned and started to walk away.
"Where are you going?" Morgan called after him.
"The shack." Gideon answered. He paused, turning back to make it very clear "Look after him, Morgan!" Then he was gone and down the hall.
Elle cradled the kitten in her arms, scratching him behind his ears.
She was rewarded with a loud, steady purr, declawed paws stretching out, kneeding her arm.
Elle's jaw set, her teeth grinding, her eyes narrowing.
"Stop that." Hotch ordered in that dry, off handed tone, as he carefully turned the page of a file that had been laying open on Reid's kitchen table.
Elle glanced at him sharply, startled by the first words he had spoken to her in what seemed a very long time. "Stop what?" she wondered.
With a sigh, Hotch turned to face her. "Stop blaming yourself." he answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "It does Reid, nor this investigation any good if you stand there and kick yourself for what you nor I can do anything about now."
"I let her get away." she reminded him. "I didn't even wait around to see her actually go into the apartment."
"You were worried about Reid." the other agent pointed out.
"We all are." Elle protested. "You didn't screw up."
"Yes, I did." Hotch admitted.
Elle's eyes narrowed. "You did?" she repeated. Her eyes shifted, trying to simply picture the perfect FBI agent screwing up in the least. Damn, even Hotch's tie hung straight!
Hotch took a deep breath before answering with "She was an un-sub. An un-sub inside the apartment of a victim of a crime. I should of never left you alone with her."
"Humph." Elle huffed, agreeing. Obviously she shouldn't have been left with the un-sub if she couldn't keep her from esca…
"That isn't what I meant." Hotch quickly stopped her thinking. "What if she was armed? What if she had an accomplice? I should of made sure she was secured and my partner was safe, before moving on to the apartment." He looked straight in her eye. "Your screw up has potentially lost our un-sub. Mine could of potentially killed you, killed us both." That said and taken care of, he turned back to the file. "So, stop it. We don't have time for blame." Silently reprimanding himself for spending so much time mentally kicking himself and not focusing on the papers he was flipping through.
Elle took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fine." she mumbled. Shifting the kitten to her left arm, she turned her attention to the lap top. "I don't know what to do with this thing. It's password protected." she complained after a moment. She looked at Hotch. "I never pictured Reid as being the secretive type. Quiet yea. But password?" She tapped the screen. "There's fifteen symbols in this thing!"
Hotch nodded, only half listening. He suggested "Perhaps Garcia will have better luck." Then he held up a paper. "What do you know about Senator Domas?"
Elle chuckled. "Besides the fact we used to call him Dumb Ass back in school?"
Hotch, in perfect agent form, did not smile. "Besides that."
The woman shrugged slightly. "A retired senator of Virginia, now teaches legal ethics at the FBI Academy. He's a fire and brim stone sort of character. Lectures about the secret honor of doing good whether or not… particularly not… anyone knows about it." She closed the lap top and looked at him. "Why?"
"Because his name is all over these letters."
"Ol' Dumb Ass? Why?" She picked up one of the files for herself and began to thumb through it.
"Looks like general information. Place of birth, parents, education." Hotch flipped a page in the file. "He didn't gather this information. It was being e-mailed to him." He glanced across the table at her. "What was the name of that Yahoo group?"
"Brainy University." Elle answered. "Ask me a little swagger for Reid. I don't see him as being a boaster."
Hotch held up the paper he had been reading. "The e-mails are from the Brainy University." He set it aside and took up another file and opened it. "More of the same. Basic, public information.
Elle looked at the file she held, set it aside and grabbed another. Then another. "They're all the same. Even repeating." She looked up at Hotch. "Why does he have all this? Not like it's hard to get or overly sought after information."
Hotch rose to his feet, gathering the files. "There are two possible sources for that answer."
Elle caught on, rising to her feet and picking up the lap top. "And one can't remember the answer."
"And the other may be the reason. We need to find this Brainy University." He started for the door, flipping open his phone as he went.
It was dark and cold.
He couldn't feel his skin.
He couldn't feel his toes nor his fingers.
He couldn't feel his legs nor his arms.
He couldn't feel his head nor his chest.
He could almost see…
The shadow darker than what was behind it, but only slightly. It vibrated, keeping in rhythm with the purr below him, around him, everywhere.
He could almost hear…
Soft clicks, hisses, whistles…
Whispers?
Continues sound just low enough,
distant enough,
that he couldn't…
Quite…
put it…
together…
A sensation pierced the inside of his…
Had that been his arm?
Was it still his arm?
The shadows suddenly erupted in blinding flashes of light, striking at him with near physical blows. The soft clicks were gone, as were the hisses, and whistles, and whispers, replaced with an enraged screaming.
Air filled his lungs like a rush of icy air, chilling instantly the blood pumping through the muscles, creating sharp, painful icicles hanging off his ribs to dangle in his chest cavity.
He tried to hold his breath, tried not to jingle the icicles, terrified of what the sound they would make if they were to fall, crashing down to his toes.
He tried not to breath.
He held his breath until his chest burned and he just couldn't understand why the icicles weren't melting.
His heart thumped loudly, trying to make itself heard over the screaming, demanding air.
His ribs creaked and cracked under the weight of the ice.
And then it happened.
It had to happen.
He took a breath.
The screaming stopped,
The blinding light stopped.
The pounding of his heart stopped.
Then there was a chip,
A click…
A jingle…
And the icicles fell.
Fell…
Down…
Down….
Slicing through his muscels, piercing his gut, shivering down his legs, ricochet off his heals, and hit to tips of his toes with an earth shattering crash….
With a gasp, he shot up in the bed so violently he nearly fell off right off the side.
"Reid!" came a startled cry, a quick hand grabbing his arm, keeping him from falling.
His response was immediate panic. "Don't!" he snapped back, kicking the covers off the bed. Scrambling up on his knees, he snapped about to face his assumed attacker.
The woman who held his arm as gently as she could and still keep her hold looked as startled as he was by the sudden leap into the conscious world. Her bright blue eyes were wide, her bouncy blond hair still whooshing about from her sudden movement. Her sweet red lips moved as if trying to say what needed to be said, yet not knowing what, exactly, needed to be said.
Reid twisted his arm, trying to pull it free. "Let me go!" he growled at her.
"It's alright, Reid." she tried to calm him, holding up her free hand. "You're sa…"
"LET ME GO!" he screamed at her.
"Reid!" Morgan called, busting through the door. "Calm down!" he ordered.
The boy's head snapped about, but it was too fast. His eyes couldn't keep up, the rush of movement sending waves of nauseous through his body. Squeezing his eyes closed, shutting out the stimuli that nearly overwhelmed him. But it did little to slow the turning of his insides.
"It's alright, J.J." Morgan encouraged softly. "Let him go."
She hesitated, the last thing in the world she wanted was to let her young friend go. But, obviously, holding him wasn't helping either. So…
His arm free, Reid wrapped both around his middle, rolling himself forward until his head rested on the bed.
J.J. reached out, wanting to comfort him. But she stopped, her hand a breath over his back. She glanced at Morgan who shook his head. Curling her fingers, she reluctantly pulled her hand back. "Spence?" she breathed, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him. "Are you alright, Spence?"
His answer came in the form of a groan.
Morgan sighed. Walking around the bed to the counter, he poured a paper cup of water and returned to the bed. "Reid, take some water."
His head shook slightly, not lifting from the bed.
"Reid, take some water." Morgan repeated, his tone taking on a sterner note. He'd seen Gideon do the same thing, and getting a positive response. He hoped Reid would respond the same to his tone, that it wasn't just a father/son thing.
For a moment, Reid didn't react. But, then his arms unwrapped themselves. He sat his hands flat on the bed and slowly, carefully, pushed himself up onto his knees. Licking his lips, he finally dared to open his eyes and look at Morgan.
Morgan held the cup out to him. "drink." he ordered.
Reid blinked at him, then blinked at the cup. Every move slow and careful, he reached out, took the cup, and brought it up to his lips. Taking a sip, he closed his eyes again, feeling the cool water trickle down his throat. So cool and soothing.
"Better?" Morgan asked after a moment of quiet.
Reid's eyes opened again and he looked at the man. Taking a deep breath, he nodded once. Then he turned to look at the woman who sat only a foot away.
One more familiar face with no supportive memory.
He dropped his eyes, embarrassed that he couldn't remember such a pretty face.
And that just mad him angry all over again.
"FBI Special Agent Jennifer Jareau." she suddenly offered as if she knew what was going through his head.
His eyes darted up again.
She smiled, a gentle, caring expression, her eyes kind and soft. "But my friends call me J.J." she added.
He glanced at Morgan, before asking "Am I… we friends?"
Her smile flinched, but, with practice ease, she kept it in place. "Yes, very much so." she answered. "Very good friends. We work together with the BAU. That's the FBI's…"
"Yea, Behavior Analyze Unit." Reid growled. Grinding his teeth, he dropped his eyes again. "I'm sorry." he mumbled.
She shrugged. "I shouldn't have touched you after waking up from a dream like that."
"I mean I'm sorry I don't remember you." he corrected her assumption.
Morgan shook his head. "No worries, man. It'll come back to you." he assured. "Have a little patients."
"Patients!" Reid glared at him. "Patients? My life is gone! Everyone I know, my family, friends, coworkers… ME! I'm gone! Disappeared! Vanished! Ripped out of my head leaving behind a gaping hole! And I don't know how! Or why! Or even when! Patients?"
"Frankly, I'd be mad as hell." J.J. admitted. "I am mad as hell, and I'm not the one who lost his memory."
Reid looked at her, a little startled at her declaration.
J.J. met his eyes, managing to capture him even when it was so obvious that he wanted to look away. "The how is you were drugged." she gave him the information he so desperately wanted, needed. "What you are feeling, the nauseas, the shivers, head and body aches… they're all withdraw symptoms."
"I know." Reid mumbled, dropping his eyes. "Lost my memory. Not my mind."
Morgan laughed.
Both J.J. and Reid looked up at him.
The agent shrugged. "Lost his memory, but he's still a little smart ass." he teased.
Half smiling, half gasping in disgust, J.J. slapped a hand at her friend's arm, but Morgan skipped aside. "Shut up." Turning back to Reid, she let him know "You might be a smart ass, but he's a pain in the ass."
Reid actually smiled. A weak, shy smile, but, without a doubt, a smile.
Thrilled with the response, J.J. practically leaped to her feet. "You know," she spoke quickly, snapping her fingers in the air. "You need food." She looked up at Morgan. "Dr. Wesslim said that he should try to eat when he wakes up. With help run the drug through his system. Maybe speed up recovery."
Instantly, Reid's smile was gone, his stomach twisting with just the thought of stimulating it. "I…. I really don't want…."
"Food." Morgan agreed, clapping his hands together. "You want to make the run, or should I?"
"I'm not hungry." Reid tried again, really, really not wanting food. Not even wanting to see it, much less eat…
"I'll go." J.J. volunteered, heading for the door. "You'd just get him some Ho-hos or something insane like that." Before going out the door, she glanced back at Reid, offering an encouraging smile. Then she slipped out the door and was gone.
Understanding he had lost the argument, Reid dropped his head to his chest and sighed.
Chuckling, Morgan fell back across the head of the bed just behind the young agent. "There is one very important reason for you to get your memory back." he told him as he cupped his hands behind his head and gazed up at the ceiling.
"Besides the fact that I have only your word that I really am one Spencer Reid?" Reid mumbled, not bothering to look up.
"You still haven't told me how your date with her went." Morgan pointed out.
Reid's head came up, looking at the door. "Date?" He turned to look back at him. "Her?"
Morgan grinned. "See? Excellent reason to remember."
There was a loud buzz, and Reid jumped, his head coming up.
Morgan carefully did not show any reaction beyond assuring "Just the hospital PA system."
Reid looked back at him.
Morgan pointed at his ear. "Listen. First buzz was to get everyone's attention, the next…"
"… will be the announcement." the boy concluded, nodding his understanding.
True to prediction, there was another buzz, followed by a woman's voice calling over the PA "Agent Morgan, please repost to the Admittance desk. Agent Morgan, Admittance desk, please." A third buzz signaled the end of the announcement.
Morgan frowned. "Wonder what that's about." he mumbled, pushing himself up and to his feet.
"Are you leaving?" Reid cried, suddenly terrified that he would be left alone all over again. He slid off the bed and tried to stand, with every intent of not being left behind.
But his knees wobbled, the entire length of his legs tingling as if trying to wake up. The tingling raced right up his thighs, striking the pit of his stomach from both sides, sickening him once more. His vision bleared with tears, his throat tightened. He started to float as he began to sink toward the floor.
"Woe." Morgan quickly grabbed him, easing him back onto the bed. "You are to stay here." he ordered.
"But…. You're going…?" Reid gasped, wrapping his arms around himself. Daring the possible nauseas, he looked up at Morgan with pleading eyes. "You're leaving… me?" He almost sounded terrified.
Morgan felt his chest tighten.
Damn, what he would do just for the pleasure of wrapping his hands around the throat of the bastards who messed up their kid.
"Reid." he answered, his tone steady, strong, and, he hoped, reassuring. "You are alright. You don't need to be afraid. I will only be down the hall. I will not be gone long. And J.J. will be back in just a moment."
"What if…" Reid started, but stopped, clamping his mouth shut. He didn't want to voice his fear, give words to the possibility that, maybe, perhaps, if Morgan left, if he was alone again, if he was gone just long enough…
Would he remember him when…
If…
… he returned?
Morgan smiled slightly, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Trust me, buddy. I'll be right back." Not giving him a chance to protest further, knowing that quick was better than dragging it out, he turned and headed out the door, closing it securely behind him.
Reid's breath quickened the instant the man had left his sight.
Would he returned?
As tired as he was, he didn't dare lay back again to sleep.
What if, when he woke again, he was lost again?
If the world was dark and cold again?
If he didn't remember who he was again?
He ground his teeth, fear once again turning to anger. Again? How could he forget what he didn't remember anyway? Everything about himself he knew now was just things told to him by men who…
Hell, all he knew about the men were what they, themselves, told him!
In all honesty, how did he even know they were telling him the truth?
Setting his jaw in determination, Reid gathered his strength and courage, and, once more, pushed himself off the bed.
And, once again, his knees wobbled, the entire length of his legs tingling as if trying to wake up. The tingling raced right up his thighs, striking the pit of his stomach from both sides, sickening him once more. His vision bleared with tears, his throat tightened. He started to float as he began to sink toward the floor.
But he grabbed the foot post, forcing himself to stay on his feet. Squeezing his eyes closed, grinding his teeth, he willed his stomach to settle down. It seemed to take forever, but his body finally calmed itself. Taking a deep breath, he took a step away from the bed and toward the door. Then another step. Then another, his dizziness fading.
As if sensing his struggle, the door swung open.
Reid looked up to see a young woman standing in the door.
Her green eyes widen slightly at the sigh of him. "Reid, what do you think you are doing?" she demanded, hurrying forward to grab his arm and offer support. "No matter." she resigned. "You're on your feet and that saves time."
So grateful not to be left to his own strengths, Reid didn't pull away. Catching his breath, he wanted to know "Who… who are you?"
"What?" She sounded startled and hurt that he didn't know her. But then she sighed. "I'm Elle." she told him. "Elle Greenaway. I work with you at the BAU."
When he just frowned up at her, she shook her head slightly. "Don't worry. You'll remember soon enough. But, right now, we need to hurry and go."
"Go?" Reid repeated. He didn't understand, but he didn't resist as she lead him out the door. "Why? What about Morgan?"
"Morgan will meet us out at the car." the woman hisses as she quickly turned him down the hall. Her left arm wrapped around his shoulders, her right hand gripping his arm, her finger tips tapping on the inside of his arm, her nails clicking…
Reid stopped, tilting his head.
Clicking.
Soft clicks, hisses, whistles…
Whispers?
Continues sound just low enough,
distant enough,
that he couldn't…
Quite…
put it…
together…
Suddenly he jerked away from her, turning and stumbling back until he hit the wall. Eyes huge, he stared up at her. "I know you!" It was more of an accusation than an exclamation.
She turned to face him, spreading her arms wide, showing she meant no harm. "Of course you do. I told you… We work together. I am Special Agent Elle Greenaway." she assured. She reached for his arm. "I'll tell you every little detail of our lives just as soon as we get you out of here. The people who did this to you are on their way here. We have to go… now!"
Reid pulled his arms away from her. "No!" he shouted at her. "Don't touch me!"
"Reid?" J.J. called as she came down the hall toward them, carrying a tray of food. "What's…" She stopped a few feet away when Elle turned to face her. "Hello. Who are you?" she wanted to know.
The woman licked her lips. "Well, crap." she hissed. Without warning, she was suddenly spinning around, kicking her right foot up and out, slamming the tray up and out of J.J.'s hands and flying into the air.
J.J. leaped back, just barely avoiding the sharp heal of the woman's boot. No sooner had her feet settled on the floor again, than she had to twist to avoid yet another kick. FBI training kicking in, she grabbed for her side arm, yelling "FBI! Back off!"
But before she could take aim, her attacker's foot struck her wrist, numbing her fingers, and sending the weapon dropping to the floor, unused.
The woman quickly stepped forward, smashing her fist into the FBI agent's gut, doubling her over with a gasp. Then, bring up her other fist, she struck J.J. just below her the eye, sending her flying back to slam on the floor, hard and without sympathy.
Stunned, hurt, and dazed, J.J. was laid out on the floor, helpless.
The attacker stood over the blond for a moment, ready to continue the beating if the girl tried to rise again. But, when J.J. remained on the floor, the fight seemingly gone from her, the woman huffed. "Stick to wrestling the media, girlfriend." she advised. Satisfied that the agent was out of the way, the woman turned back to Reid.
But he was no longer there.
In fact, he was no where to be seen.
"Well, crap all over again." she growled.
"Hey!"
The woman spun about, startled…
… and ran right into J.J.'s small, sharp fist.
Her lips busting open, she stumbled back, confused at how this came about.
J.J. leaped after her, grabbing her arm and shoulder and, spinning about, slammed her head first into the wall. She stepped behind her attacker, pulling her arm up her back, her free hand pressing into the middle of her back, pinning her. "You are under arrest, girlfriend." she hissed in her ear.
"J.J.!" Morgan called as he hurried to her aid, a security officer, alerted by the hospital staff, close behind. "You alright? What the hell happened?" he demanded, stepping in to help her hold the woman while the security officer produced handcuffs.
"That's what I'd like to know." J.J. admitted, glaring at the woman as the cuffs were locked around her wrists and she was turned to face them. "Who are you?" she demanded.
With a flip of her head, the woman threw her wavy auburn hair back over her shoulder. She blinked green eyes at her, a slight smile gracing her lips. A thin trickle of bright, red blood trickled down from the split in her lip.
With disgust, J.J. backed away. "Fine. You're still under arrest. Somebody read her her rights." she growled, turning away. Gingerly touching the quickly forming bruise over her cheek bone, she explained what little she could: "She was trying to take Reid."
"Reid?" Morgan glanced about. Frowning, he stepped aside and poked his head into the room. Returning, he asked "J.J.?"
"Yea?" J.J. winced as a nurse, arriving to offer a light examination of the agent's injuries, probe the bruise.
"Where's Reid?" Morgan wanted to know, still wandering up and down the hall, looking for the boy.
"What do you mean where's…'" J.J.'s eyes widen. Pushing the nurse aside, she quickly turned a full circle, scanning the area.
Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid was gone.
.tbc.