Two Minds & All the Places They Have Been
Chapter Five / Goodbye, Hello
warning: mentions of violence and physical, drug, and alcohol abuse
Spencer Reid was beyond the point of tired, or even exhausted. He was so sleep deprived and sore and exasperated that there had to be a new word for it. But instead of taking another day off work and sleeping for twelve hours like he should and subconsciously wants to, he was bent over the table in the conference room at the BAU, practically chugging down cups of coffee, and searching for the girl he loved who ran away again.
The rest of the room, who were less tired than Spencer was, worked around him. They were doing this for him on their own time, and he was forever grateful for it. The team delved further and further into Zyla's past, trying to see where she would go while Garcia kept her eyes and ears open for her across the country.
Documents of Zyla were on the big screen, and Spencer tried to avoid it as much as possible as there was a big picture of a smiling teenage Zyla there beside them. JJ, Derek, and Emily went through all the documented sightings and information on her from the past few years, which was very little.
"She must have some great skills on a keyboard, or a close friend that is that helped her clear all this info from when her mom died four years ago to today." Garcia said in a rush as she swished in in bright orange today. "Probably someone else. Zyla's terrible with modern technology." Spencer muttered without looking up from his papers. Without noticing, his teammates exchanged glances.
Spencer's shrill phone rang out, and he was quick to answer it. "Doctor Spencer Reid." he answered, rubbing his face while fighting back a yawn.
"It's me."
Though it was only two words and they were quiet, he'd recognize that lovely voice anywhere. "Zyla? Where are you?" Spencer said, getting quickly into action after freezing from shock. Garcia, with wide eyes, began to track the phone, and Spencer put it on speaker.
"I can't tell you. Don't bother trying to track this phone either; I'm throwing it away and driving in the opposite direction after I hang up." Zyla said. Garcia looked up in surprise, but Spencer barely looked her way. "Zy, why did you run? What's going on?" he demanded. "It's too dangerous to stick around, Spence. I have to keep you safe." she answered, her voice heavy. "From who?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "From the people who are after me. People who want to… hurt me. And staying with you would give them the opportunity to use you to hurt me, and I won't let that happen as long as I am breathing." Spencer's heart froze, and he swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to focus.
"Who's after you, Zyla? And why? What have you done?" he asked exasperatedly. Zyla let out a soft breath, sounding a little dryly amused. "I've done a lot to piss them off, let's just say that. And as far as who's after me, I will only say this: my high school graduation night. You were right, and I'm sorry."
Once again, Spencer's whole body went numb with shock. It was then followed by despair. "Zyla…." It was almost a plead. "Spencer… this could easily be the last time I talk to you. And I want to say that I am so sorry. I shouldn't have gotten myself into this mess, but it's too late now. I have to finish it or we're both in danger." her voice broke midway, and by her breathing, it sounded like she was trying to keep herself together.
Spencer ran his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut again. He took a long pause before placing his hands on the table, leaning over, to say, "I love you. More than you possibly know."
"I love you too, Spencer. I will keep you safe, I promise." her voice cracked, but there was determination in her last few words. Spencer began to beg. "No, please, just… come home to me." His voice began to break too, and he held himself together, refusing to fall apart as he was slowly slipping from the girl he was in love with and his silent teammates around him.
"I might not make it." Those words broke him all over again, and he felt a couple tears slip down his face and he bitterly wiped them away quickly. "Please, just… try. For me, Zy. Try to come home. I don't want to lose you again." he pleaded.
Zyla's voice turned soft. "I was always yours, Spence. Please know that. Know that I have been in love with you since I was nine years old," she paused, taking a deep breath before continuing with a stern tone. "Spencer, you have to promise me something."
"Zyla-" he began. "Please, just promise me something, okay?" she intervened. She was trying hard to sound steady, but her voice was a bit wobbly. "Promise me that if I die, you carry on. Don't live your life in guilt or mourning and just waste away. I know what it's like to do that, and to see it happen, and I need to know that you won't do the same. You'll go to your job and save people and you'll live your life with a girl and maybe a couple of kids." she tried to make it light, and she smiled a little before turning serious again, pleading. "Just promise me that one thing, Spencer. Please."
Spencer wanted to argue, to say that he could never just move on from her and love someone else and be with them. He could never convince himself that her death wouldn't be his fault because he should've tried harder to keep her safe before any of this had happened. But instead, he swallowed all that down. "Okay. I promise."
Her slight sigh of relief was imminent. She swallowed a lump in her throat on the other end before continuing. "I need you to know that it's not your fault, any of this. This is on me. Protecting you like this is my decision, and I'd do it again. I love you. I'm sorry."
"Zyla-" his voice was panicked, because he knew what she was about to do. "Don't look for me. Live your life. I love you so much."
The line went dead, the room was silent, and Spencer Reid broke all over again.
Four months after the phone call, the team was working on a case in Nevada, near Lake Tahoe. There were three deaths in the past few weeks near that area, and the first two looked like professional hits, almost like assassinations. The third was a sloppy kill, and a further investigation of the crime scene revealed that there was a second person that broke in and tried to stop the unsub. From what the team could tell, the unsub took the person, killed the victim, and ran.
Now all the trails lead to an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the comfort zone, belonging to a Drew Harrison, who they believed to be the unsub. Knowing that there was a strong possibility of a hostage inside, the team and the police force drove up and stayed quiet, not moving in yet.
Spencer eyed the building, trying to see if there was any movement or light inside, but it was almost the middle of the night, and he couldn't see too well. A few SWAT team members, along with JJ and Morgan, went around the perimeter of the building trying to find a safe way in where they wouldn't draw too much attention to themselves while they went inside.
A few minutes later, after the SWAT members and JJ and Morgan came back with the information of a back door open, there was gunshots inside. The team broke into action, guns out, as they ran inside the building, following the signs of a struggle.
"FBI! Don't move!" Hotch called out as the team moved forward.
Morgan had found them first. A man with a bloody nose and bruises on his face was cradling his bleeding left arm, where he was shot, and was aiming the gun in his right hand at the girl. The girl was hunched over a little, putting her weight on one foot, seemingly have injured the other. Her shirt was torn and her shoulder was bleeding from a knife wound, and the weapon lay bloody on the ground a few feet away from her. She too was bruised around her face, neck, and arms, and had a gun in her hands, aiming it at the man. Neither of them took their gazes away from each other.
But that only caught Morgan's attention for a minute. It was taken again by the fact that he knew this trembling, furious girl.
It was Zyla.
Morgan turned to yell for Hotch, to get Spencer out of there as he was too emotionally involved in this case, but Hotch, Rossi, JJ, Prentiss, and Spencer came rushing in, and it was too late. A few police officers drained in after them, and surrounded the room, their guns out and on the two.
Spencer had completely frozen, mouth agape, his grip on his revolver loosening. "Zyla?" he exclaimed, and Hotch glanced back at him with a hardened expression. "Reid, get out of here." he demanded, his voice hard.
"Doctor Reid, you take one step towards that door, and I shoot Zyla in the head." the man called out, a bloody grin spreading on his face. He didn't glance Spencer's way, but he knew that his attention was on him. Spencer stayed put, and the rest of the team subconsciously gripped their guns tighter. "Spencer, go. Get out of here now." Zyla retaliated, her voice like ice.
"Oh, look at her, acting all tough and protective," the man drawled. Then he finally looked Spencer's way, and his face lost all color as he recognized the man. The unsub grinned wider. "Remember me, Spence?"
Spencer clenched his jaw, his eyes never leaving him. "Andrew Trump. A murderer. And I'm here to arrest you."
Andrew laughed. "Oh, I bet you'd love that, boy-genius. But are you sure you don't want to shoot me? You almost killed me last time we met, and all because little Princess over here couldn't keep her mouth shut." Anger flared through Spencer, but Zyla reacted first. She stepped forward, and the police tensed, their guns pointing straight towards her. "No. He won't kill you. I will," Zyla sneered. "Prison would not be a just punishment for what you did, and I will sacrifice my soul to see yours in Hell."
"Zyla." Spencer warned her, gripping his gun, nervous, but Andrew just laughed again, coldly. "You can put on this act, baby, but I know what will happen here. You won't kill me, I'll go to jail, and you'll be reunited with your boy toy," he smirked. "Except I'll get out, one way or another. And my first priority will be to pay a visit to you two, and make sure that you watch as I slit his throat and know that it's all your fault. Then I'll have my fun with you, and make your death a slow one," Andrew grinned, spitting blood out of his mouth and onto the floor. "And you can try to run, try to hide, lock the two of you up in protective services, but I will always find you, baby."
With that, Andrew dropped his gun down. Police officers rushed in to him, taking the gun and putting him in handcuffs as they read his rights. "You and me forever, baby! You're mine!" he yelled at her as they dragged him out of the building.
Zyla didn't lower her gun until his smirking, bloody face out of her sight, and his voice had stopped. Then she slowly lowered her gun, only to have it taken away by Spencer. Everything around her felt slow and blurry, and her whole body felt numb. She heard Spencer talking to her, but she couldn't hear his words. She only looked where Andrew was standing, at the drops of his blood against the cement from the wound in his arm.
"Zy, look at me. We need to get you some medical attention, okay? Can you hear me? Zyla?" Spencer begged her, holding her face in his hands, but she wouldn't respond, wouldn't even look at him. Morgan, JJ, and Prentiss came up beside him, and Morgan patted her down for any other weapons on her person and found none.
"She's in shock, Reid," Prentiss said, a hand on his shoulder to press him back. "Let her breathe a little, the paramedics are on their way." After a moment, Zyla looked at her, and swallowed a dry lump in her throat. "I'm fine." she said, her voice sounding small. She then looked over at Spencer, who was looking at her in almost panic. "I'm fine," she repeated to him.
Before he could respond, two paramedics came in and rushed over to her, while a third was behind them with a stretcher, and the four agents backed away to let them work. They helped Zyla onto the stretcher, and began looking over her, their main concern being the cut at her shoulder. They rolled her out to the ambulance, where they set her in and took her to the hospital to be stitched up.
The agents began to disperse the warehouse room, and Hotch pulled Reid aside, his expression tense. "How do you know Andrew Trump?" he asked him. Spencer exhaled, swallowing. "There was this gang in Las Vegas that was known for the drugs they trafficked and the violence they spread, and none of the cops were able to catch them. All they knew was that the leader of the gang was a guy named Frank Trump. His son, Andrew, went to school with us, and I could tell that he was as bad as his father," Spencer paused before continuing, remembering everything that happened very clearly. "I graduated high school a year before Zyla did, and went to CalTech. On her graduation night, I surprised her by coming and I told her that I was in love with her. She told me that she had gotten together with Andrew Trump. It ended in a big fight, and we didn't see each other for a while after that."
"She was together with Trump?" Hotch asked, and Spencer noticed his tone was a touch softer. Spencer nodded, before continuing. "The next time I saw her it was at her mother's funeral after she had overdosed, nine years later. She was 24, and I was 22 and was starting to get into the FBI. She was still with Trump, but I recognized the signs of… of abuse on her. Trump was very protective over her, and she looked more uncomfortable than sad at the funeral."
"Did she have a good relationship with her mother?" Hotch questioned. Spencer shook his head. "Not after her dad died when she was ten. Her mother became an alcoholic and a drug user, and pretty much ignored Zyla as she grew up. She was in and out of rehabs while she was in school," he explained. "After the funeral, I got in contact with Zyla and she snuck out to meet me that night, and we caught up over dinner and that's when I knew for certain what Trump had been doing to her for almost a decade."
Spencer paused again, taking a deep breath. Reliving these certain memories were painful, and he wondered if Zyla was okay and when he could see her. "I confronted her about it in the car, and she didn't even argue with me, which, if you knew her, was expected. But she just started crying, and she broke down. She had pulled over, and I tried comforting her, but… I was so angry that Andrew Trump could do that to her. She was completely broken, and he did that." Spencer took another deep breath. "Only a couple minutes after that, another car drove up behind us. Andrew knew Zyla snuck out, and he followed us. He was furious Zyla ran, and that I was with her, and he had been drinking. Zyla and I both got out of the car, and he… attacked me. Threw me to the ground and started beating me, and Zyla was yelling for him to stop and he wouldn't. But I was so angry, more angry than I have ever been, and I threw him off me and started just hitting him, over and over again," Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand through his hair.
"It's okay," Hotch comforted quietly. "Just tell me what happened after that."
Spencer nodded again, swallowing. "Zyla was crying and had pulled me off him, but Trump just jumped up from the ground and slapped her, and then attacked at me again. I couldn't see, he was on top of me, hitting me, and I tried to fight back, but Zyla had thrown herself onto him, knocking Trump off of me. He threw her off, and she punched him, and he staggered into the road, and was hit by a car driving by. They called an ambulance, and they all took us to the hospital," Spencer ran his hand through his hair again.
"Trump was pretty beat up, and they charged him with assault after getting Zyla and I's statements. I had a broken nose, and a lot of bruises, and Zyla stayed with me at the hospital. After that night, she disappeared, and I never heard from her again until she was shot in New York." Spencer concluded, of course, leaving out his and Zyla's conversation at the hospital, and the short time they spent afterwards. It was too private and intimate to share with his boss.
Hotch nodded, and then gave Spencer a squeeze on his shoulder. Spencer gave him a grateful quick smile. "Go on to the hospital, and take the time you need." he said, before walking off. Spencer nodded, and then with hands in his pockets, he went to catch a ride to the hospital.
Morgan drove him over, and the car ride was silent. When Morgan dropped him off, however, he told him a teasing, "Go get her," with a small smile. Spencer rolled his eyes, but appreciated that he was trying to make the situation lighter. Spencer went in the hospital, and Morgan drove off.
However, when he got inside and asked for Zyla, he got a surprise. "She checked out, about five or ten minutes ago." the nurse at the front desk said. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows. "Checked out?" he exclaimed. "Yeah, they stitched her up a little while ago, and she was out of here quick." she said.
Spencer walked away from the desk, feeling heartbroken. Again? She ran again? What did she have to run for this time?
Through his silent ramblings, his phone beeped with a text. He opened it, his whole body feeling heavy, and noted it was from an unknown number. But what it said lifted his spirits.
Sorry, I hate hospitals. At your place. Come alone, we need to talk. Love, Z.
With the smallest smile on his face, he closed his phone and called for a taxi.
A/N: BOOM. Most of the story behind Andrew Trump: Spencer's view. We'll get more info on the scumbag from Zyla's view later.
Also, we lost Zyla, and then we found Zyla! Yay!
But what kind of author would I be if it was that easy or nice ;)
Please leave a review- they're so nice and they make my day. Thanks all!
