Lost in a Memory
Chapter Seven
By The Chronicler
It came in a mixture of flashes and a fog seeping through the cracks of a brick wall…
His hair was wet, towel around his shoulders…
… she was crying, blood trickling down from her hair line…
His computer beeped: new mail.
…. "please…." she whispered, her voice trembling, "please, don't do this…"
It was another one. Words scrolling up the screen.
… she screamed, the blade slowly pushing straight in, slicing through the meat of her shoulder, going deeper, deeper…
His eyes narrowed, focusing on the words, his mind automatically freezing each frame, imprinting it to memory.
… "Please! Stop!" he yelled. "I… can't! I won't!" He shook his head, pulling against the ropes that cut into his wrists. "Hurting her won't change that!"….
He heard the sound, his head coming around. Galen topped the stairs, ran between his feet to find cover under the desk.
… the scream was cut off by a gurgling sound. He was crying. "Please… just let her die…. please…."
He pulled open the dresser drawer, reached down to pick up his gun and the clip beside it.
… her body jerked, her eyes wide with fear and pain, blood bubbling out the corner of her lips…
He slowly turned, his gun held up, ready.
… "why? Why did you hurt her? Why?" he cried, shaking his head…
Hand wrapped around the barrel of the gun, twisting it aside, popping his wrist.
… he looked down at his hands, warm and sticky, red with blood….
The weapon was twisted until his knuckles cracked, his muscles screaming in protest…
… a hand touched his arm…
He squeezed his eyes tight, trying not to see, not wanting to see the blood make perfect little swirls on the wall, the mirror image of the swirls and patterns on the palm of his own hand.
The hand squeezed gently. "Spence?"
His body shivered so strongly, his bones moaned in protest.
"Spence, it's alright." she whispered. "You're safe."
He finally opened his eyes, blinking up at her. "There was a lot of blood." he told her.
J.J. hesitated, her hand on his arm flinching. But she licked her lips and forced herself to ask "Blood? Who's blood?"
His eyes narrowed, then he looked away, his eyes scanning the room. "Where's Gideon?" he wanted to know, panic suddenly gripping onto him when he realized the man was no longer in the room.
"He's just outside," J.J. assured. "He had to talk to Hotch."
He tilted his head to one side and, in the blink of his eyes, the panic was gone. "Oh." he mumbled before he started to wander around the office again. His eyes scanned every picture, every framed certificate, every book.
J.J. watched as he moved. He looked so lost she just wanted to wrap her arms around him. but she knew that would be a mistake. He still flinched when she came too close, still backed away from her touch.
She frowned. He didn't seem to get along with women as much as men. She wondered if that was important, wondered if anyone else, if any of the profilers had noticed that yet.
So many questions…
She paused. "Spence?" she called to him softly.
He barely glanced at her, the slightest movement of his eyes the only acknowledgement that he gave her, before returning to his scrutiny of the world around him.
J.J. leaned back against the desk and asked again "Who's blood?"
"Who's?" Reid repeated, his eyes dropping for a moment, his brow scrunched up in thought. Then his head came up again, his head snapping about, his eyes locking on something on the desk beside J.J. "Agent Hotchner…" he mumbled under his breath.
"Hotch?" J.J. felt her heart skip, but a quick glance at the office window assured her that the Hotch was still talking with Gideon just outside. Frowning, she turned back to Reid.
The young agent walked across the room to the desk with intention, reaching out and picking up a picture from the desk. "Agent Hotchner has a wife and baby." he mumbled to himself, his fingers tracing the frame.
"He does." J.J answered. She reached out and took a hold of the picture.
Reid's eyes snapped up at her.
Taking the picture, J.J. asked one more time. "Who's blood?"
His eyes narrowed. "I… " he started, but stopped. Absently, he started to scratch at the cuts on his arms again. "There was a lot." he told her. His eyes snapped about, looking at things that weren't really there, widening with fear before narrowing with thought and confusion. "Enough… four pints… why so much?" he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.
J.J. bit her lip. It killed her to see him like this, looking so lost, knowing there was nothing she could do but wait it out. "Spence…" she breathed, laying a hand over his. "Don't scratch…"
Instantly he recoiled, his hand snapping out to knock hers away.
She quickly held her hands up and away. "I'm sorry."
Blinking, he looked up at her. "Why do you call me that?" he wondered.
J.J. blinked back. "What? Spence?" She shrugged. "It's your name."
He shook his head. "My name's Spencer Reid. I have three Doctorates; 187 IQ; I read 20,000 words per minute. I know a lot of stuff… not all of it useful. I don't know why I know it. Perhaps because I remember everything I read. Do you know how much there is to read simply by looking around? You don't have to try. Words are just there. So, I must have just read everything whether it meant anything or not. Did you know I know every word of every script of the Star Trek series?"
"I know." J.J. answered a little quickly, hoping to cut him off from what she knew could be a very long list of what he knew. She smile slightly, shrugging again. "I've just always called you Spence." she admitted.
"No one else does." he pointed out.
"They don't?" She frowned. "Do you want me to stop calling you Spence?" she asked.
He blinked at her again, but finally shook his head, dropping his eyes and his attention back to the cuts on his arms.
J.J. couldn't help but sigh a little with relief. She would have been hurt if he told her not to call him that.
Reid turned away and started to pace the room, his fingers working on the cuts.
Licking her lips, J.J. pushed away from the desk and followed. "Spence, what about the blood?" she persisted.
"It was her blood." he answered without hesitation this time. His fingers roamed across the bindings of the books in the case he faced.
Again, J.J. flinched. She had really hoped he wouldn't know. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to ask "Did… did you hurt Mrs. Dommas?"
Reid's head snapped about, his eyes locking one her. "Did I?" he wondered. His eyes glanced about the room again, as if looking for the answer some where's on the walls. "Did I hurt someone?" he asked, his voice straining, an all too familiar panic building up. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes close. "I… I remember… blood… There was a lot of blood." He looked down at his hands, rubbing his fingers together, feeling the warmth, the stick…
He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering so hard his teeth chattered. Squeezing his eyes against the cold, he growled "Why can't I remember?"
All work in the BAU had ceased. Their individual cases forgotten, the agents stood in huddles around the Bull Pen, talking in hushed and, in many cases, angry whispers, suspicious glances being thrown at the sheriff who had intruded in on their world to take away one of their own.
Not just one of their own.
Their youngest…
Their gentlest…
Their most innocent….
Agent Hotchner took in the mood of his agents with a trained eye. He didn't like what he saw. Not that he could blame any of them for being upset, but they were officers of the law, agents of the FBI, investigators and enforcers of the law. They knew what the situation was and they knew what had to be done.
Procedures had to be followed!
For Reid as much as for the case.
Gideon stepped up beside him and glanced about the Bull Pen. After a moment, he spoke "Sheriff Jackson will take custody of Reid and transfer him to his own office for questioning."
It was a statement, not a question.
None the less, Hotch nodded slightly. "I sent Morgan and Elle out to see what they can learn from the crime scene."
"Good." Gideon mumbled. "Good."
For a long, uncomfortable moment they stood in silence, each struggling with his own thoughts.
Then, taking a deep breath, Hotch crossed his arms over his chest and asked "What is the Alpha/Omega File?"
Gideon's eyes narrowed. His lips pressed tightly together in a moment of thought, before he turned to look at the agent. "Alpha/Omega File?" he repeated.
Hotch finally looked at him. "Someone was sending it to Reid. What was done to him was done because of it. Whatever has been done to Dommas and his wife happened because of it. And the only connection between Reid and Dommas is through you." He was careful to keep the frustration from his voice, the anger, the feel of betrayal he wasn't even sure he should be feeling.
But Gideon was too good of a profiler, too good of a friend, to have missed it. His head dipping to the side, he opened his mouth to speak…
"Agent Hotchner." Sheriff Jackson interrupted as he came up the steps, a deputy in tow. He handed the agent a stack of papers. "Your warrant. Now, with your permission…" He waved a hand at Hotch's office where Reid could be seen through the window, limping about, J.J. close behind.
Hotch made a show of unfolding the papers, taking a good look at each one. He could feel the eyes of the entire room on him, waiting for him to tell this outsider where he could put his suspicions, his accusations, his warrant…
If he was anyone else, he would have.
If he was anyone else he wouldn't be leading this unit.
Taking a deep breath, Hotch folded the papers up again and nodded. Standing tall, he stepped pass the men and walked for his office. Opening the door, he stepped in.
Reid's head snapped about at the sound of the door opening, instantly, stumbling back, taking a defense position.
J.J. quickly held his hand up. "Take it easy, Spence. It's just Hotch. Remember what I said…?"
"Of course I remember!" the young agent snapped, as if the thought that he had forgotten anything else was as horrifying as forgetting everything else.
Hotch glanced at J.J.
The girl sighed. "He's been remembering flashes, I think. But then he got angry." She picked up a blanket from the couch and started to follow him again, explaining to Hotch "And he's shivering again."
Reid swatted the blanket away. "I'm not cold!" he snapped again.
Hotch closed his eyes, reaching up to rub the ridge of his nose. He took a moment to wonder just how many aspirin had he already taken. "It's the withdrawal symptoms. He'll be going through them for a few more hours, maybe longer." he explained. Giving it one more attempt, he told Jackson as he stepped in to the office "He should be in the hospital."
Reid's eyes went big. "I don't want to go back there!" he exclaimed.
"You've already seen how secure the hospital is." the Sheriff spoke up. He eyed the young agent. "I know he's not in the best shape. I assure you, Agent, we will take special care of him."
Reid frowned. "What do you mean?" he wanted to know. He tilted his head to one side. "Do I know you?" he asked.
Sheriff Jackson smiled. He took a step toward him, holding his hand out.
Reid stepped back sharply.
J.J. quickly stepped forward, protectively.
"J.J." Hotch called to her, shaking his head.
Frustrated, feeling overwhelmingly helpless, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.
"Agent Reid," Sheriff Jackson started after a glance at J.J., assuring that she would not interfere, "I understand that you are confused and frighten. I do not want to make this any harder on either you or your coworkers."
"Wonderful job." Gideon growled, pushing pass and coming to stand in front of his young friend.
"Gideon?" Reid asked.
Gideon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Making sure that he kept eye contact, he began to explain "A woman, Sarah Dommas, was murdered not far from where you were found. Your fingerprints were on the weapon found near her body. Your hand prints were found in her home."
Reid blinked up at him. "Did… did I kill her?" he whispered.
Gideon stopped. He hadn't expected that question. He was sure that, somewhere, deep down, even if he couldn't remember, Reid would know himself, would know that he could not kill…
But everyone had it in them to kill. Given the right circumstances, the right pushing and prodding, the right motivation… it was not in the realm of impossible…
…yet Spencer Reid…
Gideon shook his head. "No, you didn't." he assured.
Reid's eyes narrowed. "You don't know that." he said, his tone void of emotion, as if they were talking about some unsub on the other side of the planet and not about himself. "The evidence, thus far, supports the theory that I am the unsub. And there is nothing I can offer in my defense, because I can't remember anything." He paused to think. "Perhaps I don't remember because I don't want to." he suggested. "If I did something horrible then I do not think I'd want to remember."
Gideon didn't know what to say. Reid was in his all too familiar logic mode. He didn't understand the "Just because!" argument when he was at 100. How was he going to understand it now? Understand that there was no way in hell the Spencer Reid, his apprentice,his agent, his friend, could murder anyone!
Sheriff Jackson stepped forward again, coming to stand beside Gideon. "Agent Spencer Reid…"
"Dr. Reid." Gideon corrected simply because it was the only defense he had left for him.
Jackson kept his focus on the boy, but made the correction. "Dr. Spencer Reid, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say…"
"Can and will be held against you in a court of law." Reid continued. "I have the right to an attorney. If I can not afford one, one will be appointed to me."
Jackson smiled slightly. "Do you understand these rights?"
Reid nodded.
"Smart boy. Then we should be going." Jackson reached for him.
The agent's reaction was instant, twisting away and snapping "Don't touch me!"
Jackson's reaction was just as instant, one hand reaching back for his cuffs, the other making another grab.
"Sheriff!" Hotch snapped the one word, an order for the man to stop.
"Calm down, Reid." Gideon quickly instructed, holding his hands out to him as he backed away. "No one is going to hurt you. I promise. I'll be there every step…"
"I will be." Hotch corrected. When Gideon looked back at him, he told the man "You need to stay here and question our mystery woman. I will go with Reid." He stopped before letting him know that he just didn't trust Gideon right about now.
Gideon hesitated, but Jackson did not.
"You are his supervisor thus, in his present state, his guardian." he said to Hotch. "I can not stop you from being present. But Agent Gideon, I would appreciate all the help you can give us on this case. Find out what the woman knows, what the crime scene tells you. Particularly if it points us in some other direction… any other direction… than a fellow officer of the law."
Reid's eyes narrowed as he eyed the Sheriff. "Why did you say that?" he wanted to know.
Jackson looked at him and smiled gently. "I don't really like arresting cops."
But Reid shook his head. "Why did you say thus'? It doesn't fit your speech pattern." he pointed out.
The Sheriff frowned, turning questioning eyes to Hotch.
Gideon's head tilted to one side, a curios smile coming to his lips. "Indeed." he mumbled. Taking a deep breath, he carefully reached out and set a gentle hand on Reid's shoulder. "Go with Agent Hotchner. He will call me if you need me." he assured.
Reid blinked up at him, then glanced at Hotch. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around himself and started for the door, careful not to touch anyone on his way.
Sheriff Jackson paused just long enough to glance at J.J. then Gideon, promising them both "I'll take good care of him. No worries." Then he and Hotch followed Reid out of the office.