Reid evened out his breathing, waiting for his friend and coworker to do the same.
Quietly listening to Morgan's breath, Reid opened his eyes.
He studied the long dark lashes and the hard dusk colored cut of Morgan's jaw, and Reid imagined those rich brown eyes staring back at him.
Suddenly Reid looked down at his lap.
He stared at the straining unbidden erection.
Reid spared a glance around the plane, stopping for a moment on JJ.
Shaking his head he looked around again before a number of neuropsychology texts flooded his mind.
'Dilaudid...hydromorphone, also known as dihydromorphinone,' he thought. 'A hydrogenated ketone of morphine, which is a derivative of the opium poppy….'
"It is the diacetylester of morphine, and functions as a morphine pro-drug, meaning that it is metabolically converted to morphine inside the body." Reid was mumbling faster than he'd thought possible. He sat up and pulled back his blanket, still finding the strength to quite his actions in an effort not to wake Morgan.
He wrung his hands together and rubbed hard at his face, still muttering, which gave way to slow rocking back and forth.
His muscles ached as he rocked and soon he'd broken into a cold sweat.
It had only been five hours since his rescue…five hours without the sting of the back of Tobias's hand…five hours since the sweet prick of a needle in his arm.
Reid glanced around the cabin again, and when he was certain everyone was asleep he stood and crept to the bathroom.
His hands shook as he pulled out the bottles.
He thought back on his last moments with Tobias. He never thought he'd be thankful for the reliability of addiction.
Reid washed the needle and syringe in the small sink and took off his belt, tying it tightly around his arm.
'How hard can it be', he thought. '0.5CC's should be enough.'
He'd watched Tobias closely each time he'd injected the poison, into himself and into Reid.
The vein was breached easily, and he drew out some of his own blood before pushing the mixture back in.
Reid's eyes rolled upward and he stared at the ceiling light above as he loosened the belt.
His skin felt warm and there was an enticingly sweet smell hanging in the air.
His vision began to blur and he shook his head as a pale white hand reached out for him.
He watched as it cupped his chin, caressing the flushed flesh.
"I understand why he calls you pretty…boy," a velvety gruff voice whispered.
"Wha…."
The hand curled leaving only the accusatory pointer finger to trail a path down his throat to his chest.
Reid watched the finger with veiled eyes and he felt as if he was swaying.
The finger reached the edge of his pants, hooking in, another deathly pale hand appearing to simultaneously pushing back his sweater.
His hands suddenly caught hold of the pail wrist and he looked up trying to see the face of the man controlling the hands. But the hand on his shirt shot up to grab him by the neck.
The hold was like a vice and Reid immediately struggled to breathe.
'Mor…Morg….' Reid tried but he was beginning to see spots.
'Mo…', "Morgan", he finally shouted.
The hand around his throat tightened and it's corresponding hand began to lift Reid off the toilet's lid by his shirt.
"That should be my name you say with fear in your eyes," the man whispered in his ear.
There was a calm knocking at the bathroom door.
"Reid, you in there?"
"Plea…please", Reid began to beg. He was in serious need of air, but with one hand this man was crushing his windpipe.
Derek could hear the sounds of a struggle going on behind the bathroom door and he quickly forced his way in, almost taking the door off its hinges.
He found Reid, needle sticking out of his arm passed out on the toilet, a bruise forming around his long slim throat.
"Hotch", Derek yelled.
Carefully he pulled the needle out of Reid's arm and checked for a pulse.
"Come on Pretty Boy, don't quit on me now."
Reid's pulse was weak but consistent.
Quickly Derek picked the thin man up and carried him out to the main floor, immediately starting resuscitation breaths.
"What the hell is going on", Hotch grimaced as he watched Derek work.
Derek didn't answer, alternating between listening for Reid's breath and pushing breath into the young man.
He continued CPR, the rest of the team watching in stunned silence until Reid woke coughing and gasping.
Derek pulled him up until he could sit and rest his head on the older agent's shoulder, Morgan's arms holding him close.
"I got cha...you're okay...you're gonna be okay..."
Hotch wiped a hand over his face as Gideon came out of the bathroom needle and drugs in hand.
JJ, Emily, and Hotch all looked at him stunned.
Gedion frowned, stepping closer to agent Hotchner, looking down at their youngest teammate.
"Where did that bruise come from? That wasn't there before."