A/N: Short chapter, I know. Please enjoy.
The ground was soft. It'd ran the night before but the water had dried. The mud wasn't wet but it hadn't hardened yet. The mud sank easily beneath the weight of Reid's knees. His hands grappled for a grip but his fingers kept sinking into the weak earth. He tried to crawl away.
His hands were completely covered in the mud, the blood completely disguised, but not quite forgotten. His head still throbbed. The blood still flowed in thick rivulets. It obscured his vision and he dragged the back of his arm across his eyes to clear it. To smear away the blood. Even without the blood his vision was blurry.
It was the drugs. Something had been pumped into his body - and it was fucking every up. His movements were heavy, even as he dragged himself across the yard. And he kept reaching and coming up empty. Something was missing and for the life of him, he couldn't quite remember what.
"Scary, isn't it? Being human."
Reid woke with a gasp. He woke with a throbbing headache and the remnants of his dream. How real that pain had felt. Even in the back of the dream, he'd known things that he hadn't seen. He'd known one thing in specific - it had been a stake, forced into the weak earth. The earth was too weak to hold his weight on a stake, but he hadn't been spared. No. The killer had wanted to do something more. More dangerous. More meaningful. A bigger death.
And that voice. That voice had been female.
"It's about time."
Reid jumped. He'd been too caught up in his sluggish eureka moment to notice that he wasn't alone. Reid's head snapped in the general direction of the voice. It was Caleb. But he was too shocked to respond appropriately. His dream had unnerved him. It had felt real. And why shouldn't it? He had felt the mud peel away beneath his bitten nails. He had felt the blood trail down his face, no longer warm when it reached his neck. His body had been so cold, it was numb, weak and trembling.
"What are you doing here, Caleb?" It came out as a sigh. A completely serious sigh. Very unReidlike. No, Reid acted like he was supposed to because he didn't want to deal with people acting concerned over this sudden chance in his demeanor.
Caleb crossed the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, and Reid moved to sit up but Caleb stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Don't move," he said. Reid obeyed. Caleb's hand moved from his chest, to his forehead and Reid relaxed even further beneath the warmth of Caleb's hand. And the absence of pain. "You okay?" Caleb asked. "Your head's kind of hot."
Reid blinked up at Caleb. Waking from the nightmare had forced him awake, and he didn't feel drowsy. "I'm fine," he said. He spoke tentatively, as if he were trying to preserve an illusion. Was Caleb really concerned, or just acting? How long would the act last?
Caleb's hand moved from Reid's forehead to his cheek. His hand cupped Reid's cheek without stroking it. Reid still tilted his head into the touch. He realized how very eager he was for this rare affection. "Sarah broke up with me today," Caleb said.
"What?" Reid mumbled. Sarah and Caleb's fights usually led to a much rougher Caleb. But Caleb was soft today, so very soft. Surely the elder boy should be upset even more than usual - outraged, brutal. "I'm sorry," he added quickly. His fingers were growing sore, as he desperately clung to that fading illusion.
Caleb shrugged. "She said she doesn't like what I've become. It isn't the power - it's me, that's what she said. She was unhappy with me." Caleb's voice remained soft, steady but unbearably soft. If only Sarah knew just how bad Caleb could get. The bitch had been lucky…if only she knew.
Reid didn't try to sit up again. He lifted an arm, curled a hand around the back of Caleb's neck and pulled him down. Caleb went easily. Caleb buried a face in Reid's neck and shuddered against the younger boy. It took Reid several minutes to realize that Caleb was crying.
Time seemed to pass so slowly that Reid missed it altogether. Some time during the day, he managed to coax Caleb to lie down beside him, beneath the blanket. Caleb kicked off his shoes, but didn't pull himself far enough away from Reid to do anything else. He curled up beneath the blanket, his whole body curled to Reid. He held - latched - onto Reid, but it was different. There would be no bruises left tonight.
Reid fell back asleep hours after Caleb had, stroking and combing through Caleb's hair. Caleb's cheeks had turned red, beneath the unwanted tears, and his face had remained hidden - against Reid's neck and shoulder. In Caleb's sleep, Reid could see the tear tracks. Caleb was unwanted by the girl he'd devoted himself to. So he'd ran to the only person he could - the boy he tortured. It was this boy that took him in without prompt and gave him comfort.