A/N: Wow! Okay. So was re-reading through last chapter and cannot BELIEVE how much I suck! I'm touched that you all didn't send flying burning catapults my way let alone not a single flame. There were more f-ups in that than I think it is humanly possible to count. I plan on replacing said terrible chapter with the corrected version right after I post this chapter. I mean, my God! :(
*angry snort* MOVING ON!
Okay, everybody! I'm not one to normally peddle stuff but you have got to check this out! Please look up a video called "Criminal Minds: The Team 'Family Portrait'" by EmilyProcter0891 on YouTube. It- is- A-MA-ZING! It's very well done. If you know the show you'll understand why it all fits SO well together. It makes me really sad shinning the light on how the team really is a family and is now destined to be destroyed by bad judgment. Well, I'll save all my hating for another rant. But I simply highly recommend this video for ALL fan-aficionados.
"Well, there it 'tis!"
And that being said, we have a winner from last chapter's SOLO shout out contest.
*cough*
And the SOLO SHOUT OUTgoes to . . . (drum roll) . . . DONTTOUCH! Congrats for guessing correctly that the quote was indeed from the Oscar winning film: "Amadeus."
Runner up: roses-have-thorns911. Thank you to all who participated, but you don't win anything. ;)
Regular SHOUT OUTS: danicalif80, 68luvcarter, PinkHimeLacus *;)*, WallofWeird, lovedrreid, Shea Color, PheonixTearsHP, donttouch, RavenParadox, 1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG, TXBamaFan, momiji'sunusedhalo, roses-have-thorns911, Way Walker, sunchaser53, Abritt, WHIMSICALNOTIONS, elphatraGuin, purplerayz, maidenfan, Ella Reid, ladora, MissdaVinci77, Elvenlaughter, Shanen-Mathew-Michel-Halliwell, and juniper294.
Okay, so I lack any important insight into this chapter really (until after you read it- AKA at the bottom), other than to expect more of the much loved 'Reid whump.' And when I say 'whump' I mean hardcore violence. This is probably the most physically violent chapter I will write for this story-maybe. It gets pretty bad in this chapter and graphic so be warned. Also there's talk of blood again so squeamish turn away. Oh, and there is a fair amount of cursing, so, yeah. If you don't like it, get over it.
So, let's move on, shall we? ;)
"Guys."
Their conversation abruptly halted midsentence as if someone had flipped a switch. Garcia's call to them had barely been audible over their own talking but the fear that they could hear in her one word was enough to bring them to their knees.
"It's a video. It's another video!" Her voice increasing in fear. "He said they would send one every day! They already sent one! They already sent one today! Why would they send another one? Why would they send another one?"
Garcia was in complete hysterics. She pleaded for answers and understanding, searching from face to face, all clearly coated in horror. They were all still. Unnaturally. Like heinously grotesque dolls permanently frozen with looks of ghastly shock and fear, open mouthed, forever to be there, unwavering until the end of time, or broken porcelain.
"Why would they send another one?" Garcia screamed at their silence.
"It's the first." Gideon spoke softly finally cutting through the horrendous silence.
"I don't understand." Emily said slowly, clearly confused and dreadful of what was on that video.
"It's the first of the 'incentives' that he promised to send. One every day until he give us instructions." Gideon said calmly though coursing with loathing, choking on his words from his hatred.
"You mean-?" JJ trailed off, close to tears as she recalled what Gideon had said the "incentives" meant- that "he's going to hurt Reid." What was on that video? She didn't want to see, but knew she would force herself to do just that.
"Play the video, Garcia." Morgan demanded interrupting JJ and cutting off anymore talking from the group as a whole. He had to see. He couldn't wait. None of them could. Garcia did some quick fiddling and typed away on her computer. All heads snapped to the screen that started to glow with the video.
It appeared to be the same warehouse as in the last video that was sent to the team- only this time there was a simple four legged straight back chair that sat in front of the dirty windows on the screen slightly off center.
In the chair there was a man.
He wore black slacks and a lavender dress shirt with a blue silk tie. He was barefoot, and there was a blood stain on the shirt on the lower left side of the shirt on the screen- the man's right. The man's hands were behind the chair along with a portion of his arms- they were tied. The man had a piece of heavy black cloth wrapped around his eyes and tied together at the back of his head, effectively blinding him to his surroundings. There was a strip of silver duct tape draped across his mouth forcing him silent. There was blood track trailing from his nose and down across the tape as well as tracks from a gash just above the man's left eyebrow that ran over his eye, through the blindfold, and down the length of his face.
The man was Reid.
Garcia choked out a helpless sob at the mere sight of her mangled friend, knowing it was only about to become worse. No one spared her a glance as their eyes remain trained on Reid. If he had to go through something like this, than they had to at least watch. Reid knew that videos were being taken and knew that they were being sent to the team. For them to not even watch it would be for Reid to go through whatever what was about to happen in vain. They couldn't do that to him. Their eyes remained trained on the screen.
A man walked into the frame from the right side of the screen, wearing a black ski mask. He was walking towards the man in the chair with large strides, as if he were in a hurry to help the man in the chair. Everyone in the room tensed as they knew this was not the case.
Suddenly the man stopped in mid stride. He turn towards the camera, lifted his hand and waved. Morgan huffed trying to control his breathing at the mockery the guy was showing. He was taunting them, and had already told them he was going to do it for the next two days and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it.
The man took the two remaining small steps to reach Reid in the chair. He stopped again, facing Reid, his side to the camera. He tilted his head as if contemplating the man before him who visibly tensed, sensing the man so close to him. The man outstretched his hand and without warning viciously tore away the tape from Reid's sensitive skin.
Reid was completely still, silent. He didn't even flinch.
You show him, kid, Morgan thought. Reid really was so strong and he had shown it. Too many times- more than anyone should have to. Especially anyone so young.
The man actually chuckled at the kid's resilience as he stared at him. It wouldn't last, and everyone in that small conference room with a round table watching the same terrible scene knew it. The man sighed and hunched his shoulders then as if he was dreading doing something he didn't want to. Then it was like the man exploded in a rush of furry and struck Reid so forcefully that his entire body shifted to the left and threatened to tip the chair over.
Garcia had cried out at the blow and flinched violently along with JJ who brought her hand to her mouth to stifle any potential cry of her own. Emily stared at the screen with her mouth open in shock and fear. Rossi too, looked on with fear and a mix of pity for the poor kid. Just how much could he take? Hotch stared ahead at the video like stone, in pure furry and loathing. Morgan was shaking.
And Gideon was crying.
It was silent. Reid hadn't made a single sound of pain. No gasp, no groan, no moan. Nothing other than the sound of air rushing out of his body from the force of the blow. The man chuckled at the kid again, he really was trying his damnedest.
Again he struck the kid. This time Reid's upper body was forced treacherously to the right. Again he made no sound. Hotch finally understood the placement of the chair as he continued to watch his subordinate's beating. It was off center and tilted just enough that they could always see Reid- with every blow they could see his distress, his pain.
Another strike to his face caused Reid into another forced turn. Seeming to sense to impending brain damage should he stay the course, the man the planted a fisted into Spencer's stomach.
Again, no sound as Reid doubled over. The team looked on proud as their brother raised his body up again, back against the chair waiting for the next inevitable hit, inviting it. Spencer breathed in deep regaining the air previously forced from him, again trying to steady himself for the next thrusting fist.
The man seeming to tire of Reid's silence, decided to remedy it. A one-two to his gut and a right jab to the face consecutively left Reid no time to recover forcing him to given to reflexes and cry out in pain, gasping for breath.
The simple sound broke them. Every last one of the team deemed it too much. He was fighting. Reid was fighting- with everything he had and they couldn't do anything. The satisfaction he fought so hard from giving this monster was still ripped from him. His efforts were in vain and the team simply didn't have any to give. The frustration, the helplessness was toxic.
They all heard Garcia's sniffles and whimpers with every blow. They heard JJ's strangled sobs. They were all thinking the same thing. It was happening again. All over again. Terrible flashbacks danced across their visions as they remembered once before they had seen their baby boy tied to a chair and beaten within inches of his life. And again they could do nothing. How much more could Reid take before it was too much? Never had any of them been more concerned that that limit was fast approaching. Unable to do anything, they just kept watching transfixed in horror.
Another, and again, and again. Hit after hit, blow after blow. Reid still fought- trying and most often failing at keeping silent. On the eighth strike to the face, they all heard to gruesome crunch of Reid's nose crumpling under the force of the blows for the last time, broken. He lost his fight then again. That was the worst one. He had screamed from the pain. After that, another punch had forced Reid's neck to whip to the side flinging blood from his mouth in an arch around him. The man had laughed.
Morgan eventually lost count as he stared on at his boy's hurt, amazed he hadn't lost consciousness yet. He prayed that he would- he would at least be unable to feel the pain. Every blow, every strike, every smack, every slap, every jab, every knock, every smash, every dig, every sock, trust, wallop, shot, thump, and slug was killing him. Slowly, surely and painfully. The very thought killed the others, let alone the sight of it right before their eyes. Every single ounce of sweat, blood, and tears, coming from their friend, their family, was their own slow death.
Ten minutes of it.
It last ten whole minuets.
Why?
How?
Why?
Reid was still alive. He was still awake. They didn't know which was crueler. The man's hands were bloody though the team couldn't tell if it was a mix of his own wounds or Reid's. Reid was unrecognizable. He was covered in blood as was his shirt from numerous splatters. His lip was busted and swollen in two places. His nose simply was not his nose. It was all wrong. The wrong place. The wrong shape. And covered in blood. His whole face was coated in blood as it spilled over from a gash on his cheek, his chin, his forehead and ears. There was even blood seeping from under the blindfold leaving them to shudder at the state that his eyes must be in.
His hair was matted and clinging to his face with sweat and blood. His chin was resting on his chest, hanging his head from exhaustion while he breathed heavily from the beating and partially blocked nose.
The man stood in front of him, hands at his side. He sighed, head low looking at the kid, shoulders hunched- like he was disappointed. He reached forward and wiped his bloody hands off on Reid's shirt. He walked around until he was behind Reid and behind the chair. He grabbed a fistful of the kid's hair and forced his head up, the kid gasping from the pain. He leaned in close, his mouth right next to Spencer's ear, smiling grotesquely, and whispered loudly, so that the camera would be able to pick it up.
"Smile for the camera, Spencer."
The man looked straight into the camera and did just that. The epitome of smug staring straight at them with a terrible jubilant glow in his eye, knowing he had won.
"Is there anything you'd like to say, Spencer?" The man taunted. But Reid didn't care. He did have something to say.
"Don't - c-come, Gi-Gideon."
He could barely get the words out of his swollen, numb mouth between his jagged breaths. But he had to. Gideon couldn't come. He just couldn't. He would listen to Reid. He always trusted him, his brain, his opinion. If there ever was a time for Gideon to listen to his handpicked protégé, it was now. He would listen to Reid. He had to.
The man looked down at the kid. Shocked? Admirably? They couldn't tell. He let go of Spencer's hair, letting his head fall and his chin collide with his chest once again. He bent down and cut Reid's bonds, pushed him forward in the chair, forced his arms back, and put on fresh ties to keep his hands together right behind his back.
Without a word the man pulled the wilting Reid to his feet, dragged him a few feet away from the chair and violently threw him to the ground causing Spencer to gasp in pain as the force behind the push gave him too much momentum making him roll repeatedly until he stopped on his face. He rolled himself more comfortably on his side, unaware that he was directly in front of the camera.
The team noticed how Reid's whole body shook, almost trembled. "Fight or flight" having long ago kicked in, pumping adrenaline into Reid's veins, but being unable to do either option, remained coursing through his body's highway as the unspent energy it was, cruelly keeping him conscious and fully aware of the pain as his body jerked with it vibrating in his veins, taunting him with an impossible escape.
Emily remembered all too well what that felt like after Cyrus. She had never felt worse for Reid. She had stood there the entire beating, hand over her mouth keeping as composed as possible for the demonic ten minutes and not wavered. Now, simply seeing Reid shake from his body's own futile attempt at escape had her in tears. He was breathing heavy, gasping at some points- undoubtedly from pain and his broken nose.
The man had taken the chair and placed it in the middle of the screen right behind Reid and sat down in it. He leaned forward with his arms on his thighs and his hands clasped in front of him. He sat staring at the camera.
The team stared back.
And the man just stared.
It was like some strange alternate universe of an old western showdown, where neither party could see the other but knew what they were doing. Finally, the ski mask fabric on the man's face distorted as he opened his mouth and began to speak.
"Hello, Jason."
Gideon simply couldn't breathe. He was staring at the screen. He was hearing the words. He saw the mask moving, knowing that was where the sound was emitting. And he saw the quivering Reid at the man's feet. All he could think was how he was the reason Reid was there.
"Frankly, I hate you, Jason." The man said matter-of-factly, rather cheerfully, as if he just found a dollar in his pocket. "We all hate you, actually." The man motioned to either side of the camera. Slowly people started coming into sight from the sides. All of them had the same type of ski mask that the man had. Including him, there were eight, and one looked like a woman. They all took defensive poses- arms crossed. Legs separated. Head up. What did it mean? Were they simply trying to look fierce or was there more to it? As the people came into frame the man looked at them, seeming to be pleased with their number and placement, turned back to the camera and continued to talk.
"That's why we're here. We don't want this kid." The man motioned a hand down the bludgeoned Spencer at his feet. The man spoke with a pleasantness one might hear in a business exchange- trying to make a good deal but not piss off the person so much that they wouldn't sell.
"We want you." The man said slowly and simply, nodding his head as he agreed with himself along with a few of the others. "It's your fault he is here. It's your fault that this is happening to him. And it's your fault that we all hate you." The man's voice got increasingly angrier as he spoke, putting particular emphases on every "your."
Gideon didn't need this man to tell him of his guilt. He could that just fine own his own. He already had. And he would until his dying day.
"I'm sure you and your 'team' have a lot of question. You'll get what you want when I get what I want." The man's voice was now forceful and demanding. Not a good sign.
"Gideon for the doc." The man gestured to the lanky frame of what he was referring to. "Simple as that." The finished, pushing off his thighs and standing up. The others remained still- unmoving behind their leader like a wall of hate and evil.
The man came forward, stepping over Spencer and came right up to the camera so close that the team could only see his eyes and the protruding fabric behind which was his nose. His head was tilted as he spoke his parting words.
"Are you gonna come yet?"
Black.
Stillness.
Silence.
Heavy and thick, deafening in their ears- pounding with blood. Lots of blood. So much blood. Reid's blood. Everyone stood still looking at each other for an answer, an order, something to do. It was too still. Too quite. They all knew why. Everything was wrong. Nothing had ever been this bad. They were never this bad. They always somehow magically got the happy ending. Everything was always alright in the end. Somehow. The problem was they knew the happy ending wasn't just around the corner. The end was, and the two weren't going to meet up in the collision course that sent bursting fireworks in everyone's heart, knowing everything was alright. It wasn't.
Emily looked so beautiful with her hand gently placed over her mouth as two tear tracks could be seen on either side of her cheeks- her eyes weren't red at all, just glistening in the light from the buildup of emotion that she couldn't fight, couldn't compartmentalize away. Not with Reid.
Garcia was a mess with more tear tracks than countable running down her rosy cheeks like veins full of mascara and eyeliner. Her eyes had never been so red and blood shot. So puffy and swollen. She had been cry since 7:06 this morning.
Rossi, always so allusive and emotionally distant, now had eyes rimmed red with an open mouth bobbing up and down as he fought to speak. Anything. Words. Prayers. Something.
Hotch had his fist to his mouth with his other arm wrapped around his torso. Like Rossi, his eyes too were rimmed red but a far stronger shade, a heavier thickness hung about the pooling liquid in the corner of his eyes.
Gideon had tear tracks on his face that were nearly completely dry. His eyes were no longer red, nor swollen. He stood staring at the blackened screen as though Spencer would magically appear again if he just kept looking hard and long enough. His face was unreadable. It was blank. It was empty. It was dead.
JJ had her hands in her hair as she tugged on it at the roots on either side of her scalp. It was obvious she had been crying, and she was still, though she tried to fight it with everything she had. She had to think. She had to be logical. She had to think!
Morgan had his arms tightly weaved across his chest. He was in a strong stance trying to be tough and strong, for himself, for everyone. Such a stance could not have been more apposing to his emotions. He was trembling ever so slightly. They could all see the reflected light of the single tear that ran down his right cheek, which he wasn't even bothering to wipe away.
It was silent still, stretching on unwavering while they all simply struggled to breathe. Morgan let his arms collapse at his side unable to hold them up any longer and strode out of the room in silence. No one even glanced his way, fully understanding and lost in their own minds. Hotch let out a sigh that sounded pained, as if he had been holding his breath when really he was struggling with himself.
"Everyone take a moment . . . Meet back here in ten."
He spoke softly and barely above a whisper. He had needed to pause and swallowed between sentences to compose himself just enough that his voice didn't break. They all needed a minute. All of them. They couldn't do this. Not right now.
He couldn't feel anything anymore other than the throbbing. His entire body twitching in time with his ever persistent heartbeat. It only hurt when he moved. So he didn't.
He was on his side on the freezing, hard cement floor of what he assumed to be a warehouse from the echo of the voices- or maybe he was just going crazy. Maybe they hit him a bit harder than he thought and caused some sort of damage to his eardrum. He didn't really care- at the moment, at least.
He had been thinking nonstop since he was taken and just couldn't figure it out. All of these people obviously were mad at Gideon but they all couldn't possibly be connected together. They were just too many. The way they didn't talk to each other but only to the head man, Richard. And even when they spoke to him, they didn't respect him. It was like he, too, was a means to an end. Revenge.
The only glimmer of hope Reid had managed to find was the blindfold. They kept him blindfolded the entire time he had been here other when he was taken and they had worn masks. He couldn't ID any of them which could possibly mean they may keep their word in letting Reid go for Gideon.
No.
Gideon wouldn't come. He couldn't. Reid had told him not to. Twice. It had been the only thing he had said all day. At least he was pretty sure it was still today.
Richard had said three days. Why three? Was there some significance or did he just want to psychologically torture Gideon before he actually had hands on him? Maybe both. Maybe neither. He was definitely sadistic, for sure. But the others?
The woman.
Vivian.
She had stood Richard up. Taunted him. She had been angry at him, said she wouldn't. She told Reid she could do it. What did it mean? Was she just trying to scare him?
And Ian.
He was the man that had stood up for him. Twice. The man in the van that had objected to cutting into him. The man that said the headphones were too much- even though Reid had still been able to just barely hear through the noise of them. The man with the sad eyes. The man that didn't want to do this.
So why was he?
His hate for Gideon must be overwhelming. Maybe. But one of the other's had called him Arthur. He had left after given Reid's tracer and scarf- probably sent to the team or Gideon. Arthur. Nickname? Only Richard had called him Ian. Fake name?
What did it all mean?
But right now, he didn't care.
Right now he was cold, alone and dumb. Mercifully they hadn't put the tape back on leaving him free to breathe through his sore mouth rather than his broken nose. Nor had they replaced the headphones, they had in fact left him on the ground where he had been thrown for nearly a half hour. He just lay there unmoving trying to recuperate for the emanate round two, praying it was later rather than sooner.
He could hear the voice echoing through the build somewhere off behind him- they were whispering. He could make out what they were saying. So that was it. The only thing he could really do to help himself was to listen in on his captures and try to understand them- but if he couldn't hear them, he couldn't do anything. Escape was hopeless. He had already tried to break the wire ties earlier and all it had gotten him were painful, bloody wrists and ankles. Any stretching or weakness he miraculously imposed on the bonds, were now worthless that they had been replaces. All Reid could do was wait. Wait for more pain. Wait for his team to rescue him. Wait to die. All he had to do was wait.
Mainly he waited to pass out. Reid knew it wouldn't be long now. The darkness was slowly creeping in the corners of his mind, and he welcomed it. It was only fueled by his own exhaustion.
Suddenly, there was a large, strong, warm hand on his shoulder. It was gentle as it slowly turned Spencer on his back. Reid groan at the pain the movement caused. He didn't understand. It couldn't be the second day already. Maybe they were just going to make the other films and just kill him prematurely. It wouldn't surprise him. But he didn't think he could take a beating. Not another one. Not so soon.
"Sorry." The person muttered. Of course, Ian. Richard wouldn't have been gentle.
"Come on." Ian groaned as he grabbed Reid underneath his arms and brought him up into a sitting position, but realizing that Reid was unable to support his own wait, dragged him over to a pillar. Ian leaned Spencer's back against the metal making sure there was enough room between the ground, his back, and the pillar for Reid's hands to rest comfortably.
"Here." Ian mumbled.
Suddenly Reid felt a soft pressure against his swollen lips. He flinched and turned his head away as the pressure increased.
"Please." Reid pleaded. He would take another beating over what they were trying to force him to drink, knowing more likely than anything it was some sort of sedative or some other drug. Reid didn't think he could handle addiction again. It would be the end of him. Not to mention the end or over two years being clean. Two of the hardest years of his life but he had done it, and it was only getting easier every day. The first months had been the worst going through withdrawals and then the ever present threat of relapse. He had almost started to use again after that kid but he went to the meeting. He talked about his cravings and got over it. He had never been more proud of himself and to have that hard work stolen from him as drugs were forced into him, just like last time? No. He just couldn't do it.
But this was Ian- the one man that actually seemed to want to help him. He still kidnapped you, his mind argued. He hated Gideon enough to kidnap you. What's to say that he doesn't hate Gideon enough to kill you, let alone drug you? He couldn't trust him.
"It's just water." Ian soothed with a slightly apologetic tone. "I promise."
Spencer slowly turned his head back towards Ian and allowed him to tilt the spout of a water bottle to his lips and let a trickle of water into his mouth. Ian paused while Reid swallowed the first sip to let him judge the water for himself then tilt the bottle again for a large sip. After three gulps, Ian pulled the bottle back to let Spencer take a break.
"Thank you, Ian." Reid mumbled not sure who was listening and not sure how Ian would react but he was Spencer only chance. He was surprised to hear Ian chuckle slightly.
"I told Richard those headphones were necessary. Didn't even work." Ian said, chuckling small-ly through his smile as he whispered to Reid. It was silent as Ian tilted the bottle again and took a few more sips less tentatively.
Ian pulled back again and sighed. "I'm sorry about this, Doc."
Reid wasn't sure what to say. He needed to try to get this man to help, get him on Reid's side.
"I know that you don't want to do this." Reid said the only thing he could really think of at the moment. After all, his head was still throbbing. He was lucky he was alive, let alone conscious and talking.
"I don't want to do this." Ian modifying what Reid said. Reid did have to admit that "this" was probably one of, if not "the" strangest conversations he had ever had. He was sitting in a warehouse, beaten, tied up, and blindfolded talking to one of his captures, who didn't want to be hear while he gave Reid water. But he knew what Ian had meant. He felt bad for Reid. He didn't want to hurt Reid. He wanted Gideon.
"What did Gideon do to make you hate him?" Reid asked softly, hoping he hadn't gone too far, but he needed answers worth something if he was going to get anywhere. Reid heard Ian sigh like he was about to answer, but he never heard it.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Richard had yelled it across the warehouse, interrupting any possible answer from Ian. Reid could only pray that he hadn't heard the conversation. He sat frozen in fear, horrified at what Richard would do to him and Ian.
"I'm giving him water." Ian retorted angrily.
"Why?" Richard shouted fuming.
"Because he's not going to last three days without water the way your treating him." Ian argued, sick of Richard's shit.
"You want me to give him water?" Richard yelled condescendingly.
Reid heard the crackle of plastic.
"What are you doing?" Ian questioned with worry.
Suddenly, Reid felt a forceful hand grasp his chin horrendously tight and wrench his head upward. The bottle was shoved in his mouth, carelessly colliding with his mangled lip and swollen gums. Water was flooding his mouth as he coughed and sputtered gasping for air. But he received none. Richard did not pull away like Ian had to let him breathe. He shoved the bottle deeper into Reid's mouth, nearly down his throat, choking him as he try to spit out as much water as he could. Still, it was trickled down like a never ending stream forcing its way into Reid throat and down the wrong tube as he struggled to breathe making him cough more. Reid tried pulling away, turning left and right, but the hold on his chin was like a vise.
"Stop it! STOP IT!" Ian shouted at the man.
The grip was gone and the bottle was pulled from his mouth, empty. Reid fell to his side on the floor, spewing the last of the water in his mouth out like a fountain before he took in lungfuls of air and coughed harshly, tearing at his throat.
"Damn it, Richard!" Ian fumed.
"Do not talk to him." Richard slowly demanded of Ian. Spencer barely heard the bottle hit the floor as Richard threw it done before he heard receding steps over his own retching.
"I'm sorry, Doc." Reid heard Ian mutter but was unable to reply from his continued bought of throat spasm.
Again, Reid heard receding footsteps.
Puppies.
Kittens.
Ducklings.
Cute, white, fuzzy, baby seals on Antarctic snow.
The stock pile of photos Garcia clicked through was barely any help. Only after a full eight minutes did she finally stop crying. She had to force herself to spend more than the millisecond she felt she could waste looking at the adorable picture. She had ten whole minutes. Ten minutes to get her shit together and the go back and find Reid. She needed to be on her game. If she couldn't at least force herself to look at the cutest creatures on Earth to make her feel better, she was far gone.
Finally, after a particularly cute picture of a baby chick on top of a cat on top of a dog, Garcia broke into the smallest of smirks. It was enough. She stared at the picture another whole minute taking deep breaths, composing herself. She could do this and God damn it, she was going to do this!
She gathered her things, looked at her watch saw that she had nearly one minute left and started walking back to the conference room.
She had left the room at practically a run and went straight to her office. She slammed the door behind her and no sooner had the hinges closed than she screamed at the top of her lung with everything she had, letting it all go while her furry tore away her throat. She didn't care if anyone heard, they all knew something was wrong, they could tell, but she also knew that none of them dare asked. JJ fell to the floor in back breaking sobs holding her dead in her hands. The frustration. The helplessness. The hopelessness.
No!
They were going to find. They were! She sat there on the floor, crying until the last minute. This was it- all she would allow herself. No more tear until they had him back- until he was in her arms safe in front of her own eyes. She glanced at the clock on the wall saw that she had two minutes left and stood up, turning off the tears like a faucet. She wiped the tears from her eyes. Her time was up. She was done and was allotted no more tears. JJ went to the bathroom, washed her face, Put her hair in a pony, got a drink and head for the conference room.
They would get their happy ending. She'd make damn well sure of it.
At first she had paced back and forth but then realized there were better and other things she could do to get adrenaline going. She started doing stretches, getting flexible and loose. Helping her feel free. She would have done some of her yoga but the clothes were to constricting.
She needed to be physically at ease. She wasn't going to think about it. About anything. She was going to think about it in ten minutes, that's when she could think about it. In the mean time she was going to lose her body and mind- make herself 100 percent so she could find him. They were going to find him. No questions.
A few jumping jacks, pushups, crunches, and lunges later Emily was walking back to the conference room, pumped.
Aim . . .
Fire.
Aim . . .
Fire.
Aim . . .
He had been at it for nearly ten minutes. Since he had left the room and raced down here before he did something stupid that he would regret. Judging from the shell casings at his feet he had fired over 20 rounds- over a hundred shots. I bet Reid could tell me exactly how many, and how many I have left, and the average number of shots per minute without even blinking, he thought bitterly.
Stop it!
He had come down he to clear his head or at least to get some of this-this . . . loathing out of him. Of course, he wasn't sure if it wasn't entirely directed and the captures or himself.
Gideon.
He hadn't done anything. He only ever did his job and damn well. You used to know that.
Of course he knew that. What a terrible thing to think. Still, he thought it.
Enough!
Reid would have told him some quote or something about how no one can control their thoughts.
I said, enough!
He was right. He needed to focus, to think clearly, and quit fighting with himself. Morgan pressed the button to retrieve the firing target. Once in front of him, Morgan smiled inwardly and started heading back to the conference room. The other where probably starting to wonder where he was. The sheet had made him feel infinitesimally better. Every last shot had been a head shot and there was now a hole the size of a softball in the silhouette's head. Morgan couldn't wait until they found this bastard. Oh, and they would find him.
"Can you just put him on the phone, Jessica? I really need to talk to him."
He had gone straight to his office, and dialed a number he knew all too well. Jessica, Hailey's sister had picked up Jack, as he was rather busy ad couldn't get him. But now, he needed serious encouragement. He needed to know that there was still good in the world that there was a reason why he did this job.
"Hey, buddy!"
They talked for nearly the entire ten minutes and after they had said their goodbyes, he remembered and was at ease with renewed strength to go out and get Spencer back.
Hotch got up from his desk, left his office, and started to walk towards the conference room as he saw the others doing the same. They were already for the fight.
His head was down on the table. He hadn't left the room. What was the point? He didn't need to clear his head. He wasn't thinking. What was there to think about. He had made his decision. He would give them their chance but on the third day he would stand by his actions.
All Gideon thought about was Spencer being back in this room doing what he loved, again whole. He likely wouldn't see that come to pass, but he could see him. In his mind Gideon saw Reid with that perfect toothless grin that was the epitome of him. He would never see it again. But the important thing was that others would. The others were walking into the room and he lifted up his head.
Good. Now they could get started.
A/N: Well, there you go! Sorry it took so long. So much for my weekly updates *shame face* but life has been getting in the way here and I have deadlines to meet- real deadlines, for a job. Hope you understand and don't hate me.
Okay, so! Sorry if I got this wrong but I couldn't for the life of me remember Hailey's sister's name so I went with Jessica. Sorry if I'm wrong, but if you know what it is I'll go back and fix it.
Hopefully this chapter is way less screwy in terms of f-ups than last time. I spent a far longer time scouring through here to see and remedy any opps! Sorry that the entire first half is really just- huge. I normally try to brake things up and have scenes but this is how I felt I had to write it. Plus I kind of change scenes really fast and multiple times near the end. Does it make up for it?
Well, too bad. ;)
I will TRY not to take so long with the next update but no promises. However, in the mean time- I've been working on a lil' sumin' sumin' to tied yall over in between updates. Check my profile in a day or two. *WINK WINK*
So thankie to my wondress readers and-
"PRESS THE BUTTON, STAMPER!"
(SOLO shout out time! *hint hint* what do you say we make it an every chapter thing? NAME THAT MOVIE!)