The End and What Its Worth-Chapter 28

Stockholm Syndrome

"...........As so many of you have stated, Haley complicates things. A lot. Hehehe....Pleaz R&R!"

Spencer Reid knew it wasn't rational; he knew that the voice talking to him in the back of his head didn't belong to him. He knew what he was feeling was dangerous and stupid, and he knew that he had to somehow overcome it. Reid had had anthrax, post traumatic stress disorder, addiction, along with the occasional flu and fever, but never before had he suffered Stockholm Syndrome.

Reid had figured it out when Foyet had first told him he wanted to commit suicide. His heart had started beating rapidly, he started to feel upset and distressed, and his first thought was 'why don't I make him happy?' When the thought first crossed his mind Reid felt afraid. He didn't know why he felt that way; he wasn't 'in love' with Foyet, at least he didn't think he was. He also was afraid because he had never felt that way before, and he didn't want to feel that way toward Foyet. He had kidnapped Reid and forced him to hop planes with him; it was never his job to make Foyet happy. Besides, Foyet wanted to kill himself because of the cancer, not because he was depressed.

The sound of a door slamming drew Reid out of his thoughts. He was supposed to be sleeping; Foyet wouldn't be happy to see that he was still awake. Foyet walked in with a serious look on his paling face with a grocery bag in his hand.

"I see you're still up." he said as he threw the bag down. "As I expected you would." Foyet beckoned Reid over to him, and he obediently followed orders. "I would sit here and argue with you about you sleeping habits and ability to follow directions, but I honestly do not see the point of it anymore. So instead I am going to tell you about our next disguise. This is going to be our last one, I am afraid. Like I said before, I'm going to be disguised as an abusive boyfriend and you as the unfortunate victim. We're going to set up a bomb at the hotel I was telling you about when we first started this whole charade. When we are there, I will have another friend of mine make the bomb for us."

"Then what?" Reid asked, his heart sinking at the very thought of Foyet's death.

"Then you go home." Foyet said quickly. Before Reid could ask anymore questions, Foyet had thrown a pack of pills at Reid, who in return gave him a questioning look. "You have an infection. I don't know how bad it is, but I know these will help. They will also help you sleep." Reid still looked at him with a look that clearly said he didn't trust Foyet. "What, you think I would string you along this far just to poison you? Do you think I am going to drug you again? I only have your best intentions at mind, really. You should know this by now. Take the damn pills." he said hastily. Without another thought, Reid decided he should 'take the damn pills'.

"Get some rest; we're moving tomorrow." With that, Foyet left an on-edge, confused and slightly disorientated Reid alone in the rented hotel room....

Haley found herself wishing that she had paid more attention to her high school French Class. People all around her were speaking the foreign language with such ease, but she found herself having no clue as to what they were saying.

"Mommy, I'm hungry!" Jack whined.

"I know, Sweetie. We will get something to eat later on, but in the meantime you can have these fruit snacks. Okay?" she gently answered. Jack nodded, and gratefully took the snacks.

As Jack ate his snack, Haley continued her attempt to find someone who spoke English. "Excuse me sir!" she shouted at a well-framed man with loose-fitting black clothes.

"Yes?" the man answered with a slight accent.

"I'm from America, and I'm here with my son. We're looking for my husband, but it seems as thought we've gotten a little lost." she said, relief evident in her voice.

"No worries; I think I can help. I work with the FBI here; I know the area pretty well." he smiled. "Where are you heading off to?"

"The FBI? My husband works with the American FBI." Haley said with a smile. "Oh, my names is Haley Hotchner." The Frenchman shook her extended hand, a smiling crossing his own face.

"John Kurk; my older brother's with the FBI here. I guess it really is a small world." he charmed. "Anyway, where are you heading?"

"I'm not exactly sure; I don't know where exactly he is; I lost his track and we haven't decided on a hotel room yet. I think he may already have one checked out for us, if that helps."

"Well, I could as my brother to pull a few strings for me. You know, have his technical analyst go over some hotel check-in lists and such. In the meantime, let's get your boy here some food."

"Thank you so much." Haley answered.

"Oh, no problem." With that, Haley picked her little boy up and followed John to wherever he was taking them.....

"I appreciate your cooperation on this case, Agent Kurk." Hotch said as he speed-walked to catch up with the younger agent.

"Like I told your liaison, I just want to catch this SOB." Kurk smirked.

Just as Hotch was going to comment, he heard someone behind him yell his name. "What is it, Morgan?" he asked when Morgan pulled up next to the duo.

"I tried to call you, but it didn't go through. It said your cell was off."

"Right; it died a while back so I left it on the charger." Hotch quickly explained. "Sorry; I forgot to tell the team."

"Now worries; I just wanted to know who my partner was." Morgan said.

"You were paired with your boss here." Kurk said. "We wanted to keep our teams separate for this one; that way everyone knows each other well enough to separate the tasks among the pairs according to each person's weaknesses." he explained.

"Well, it's good to know that you're just as dedicated as our boss-man here." Morgan smirked.

"Us 'boss-mans' have to stick together." Kurk answered sarcastically. Both of the BAU agents had to laugh at that. "On a more serious note, we're planning the city stake-out to start in four hours. Will your team be ready in time?"

"The team's ready now; in four hours they're going to need more coffee." JJ joked as her heels clamped on the floor.

"Ah, Agent JJ, er, Jareua." Kurk corrected.

"JJ's fine; everyone on my team calls me that." she smiled politely.

"Now that we're all acquainted, we should start focusing on the lay-out of tonight- figure out which areas are most crucial. " Rossi put-in.

"Good idea; I will gather up my team. Meet at the conference room in five?" Kurk suggested. The BAU team nodded. Once Agent Kurk left the room, Hotch decided to use the opportunity to address his team personally.

"I know that Reid is a valid member of our team and that we all feel emotionally attached to this case. Keep a clear mind and try to stay positive about this. I know that there is a very good chance that Reid is dead, but there's an even chance he's still alive. Treat this like a normal case. The French FBI have been so great about this case; I don't want our bad moods to affect our work. It really is the least we owe them for their kindness." Hotch said in his monotone voice. The team nodded in understandment. "Any questions about anything?"

"No sir."

"Alright; let's head over to the conference room then." With that, the team shuffled in the direction of the conference room....

The net morning Reid awoke to the sound of a whipping wind and speeding cars; it only took his mind a few moments to realize that he was in back in the limo.

"Where are we headed?" the friend asked.

"Head north for two hours, turn on to freeway 97 and make a U-Turn down to Main Street on Fifth." Foyet instructed. The friend nodded to show his comprehension.

"When we will meet again?"

"I can't say; I have work out of the country next and it may take me a while before I return." Foyet lied calmly.

"Is there any way that I could contact you?"

"No, Prozzie. It's a closed client, meaning they're paying more than extra to keep it confidential. My guess is that it's some political cock-out who has something to hide."

"You called me by my name; you've never done that before." the friend said accusingly, almost suspicious of his 'friend.'

"Is Prozzie not your name?" Foyet smirked.

"You cocky SOB." Prozzie laughed. "You're jut lucky that little playmate of yours is sleeping still."

It was only then did Reid realize they didn't know he was awake. He decided to stay quiet, wanting to hear their conversation.

"What was your mother thinking? Naming you Prozzie...." Foyet asked. He didn't actually want to know, but he had a feeling that his little playmate (as Prozzie has so loving dubbed Reid) was waking up.

"My mother was a street worker- banged any guy willing to spend a buck. A couple of ol' soldiers came by one day. She said she'd give them a discount. She ended up falling in love with one of them. They were together for five years before they married. They finally decided to marry. I was conceived on their honeymoon. They went to this little lover's get-away on Prozzie Street. Amazingly, it was the first time they had done it." Prozzie smirked. "He took her off the streets-gave her a home. They settled down, got a 9 to 5 job, and got cozy. Then he got called back to Afghanistan. He was killed a week later; she got notice of it two months after it happened. Everything changed after that. She was left to take care of me, a house bill to pay, and no job. She sold the house, got a dirt-cheap apartment, and went back to the streets. She started using drugs after that. Eventually, one of her costumers killed her. No one knew what exactly happened, and since I was only 2 at the time I don't remember any of it. I was put in the orphanage. When I turned 16 I was finally adopted by a killer who needed an apprentice. And that's when I got into our line of business." he droned on. "You know, I still think I would have became a killer without the guy's help. I think killing is a natural instinct that you are born with, not born into. I don't think it can be prevented, but just delayed. There will always be the deep-down gut feeling that something's missing, and until you satisfy that craving, you'll be denying who you were born to be. Killers are part of our life system anymore. They help balance everything out. Killers give those do-good heroes something to be a hero about. Without us, there wouldn't be such thing as a hero."

"I think that's the smartest thing I have ever heard you say." Foyet smirked. "And I happen to agree."

"We all do, Foyet, no matter if we want to admit it or not. We all think alike in these ways- these insincere, egomaniac, narcissistic ways."

"Well, aren't we a bit negative today." Foyet joked.

"No, I've just been thinking." Prozzie mumbled.

"Dear friend, nothing good can become of your thoughts." Foyet smiled.

"You know me too well." Prozzie smiled back. "I just have the feeling that something bad is going to happen, and I don't think we'll both get out of this one."

"Never trust your feelings- they just blind you from the truth." Foyet lied. He knew that Prozzie was on to him, but he refused to admit it to himself. He had gone too far to have his plans ruined by a gut feeling.

"I think he's waking up. We should probably keep quiet now." Foyet added. Prozzie nodded, knowing Foyet was right.

For the rest of the trip, Reid mused over what he had just overheard with a heavy blanket over his head. He was thankful for the blanket, though, because his stomach was hurting and he felt feverish. He had a sneaky feeling that the medication wasn't working.

Foyet stared out the window, knowing all the while that Reid was up. He needed to hear their conversation, though. He knew it would help them both in the end. Foyet decided to close his eyes and try to get some sleep, knowing that he was going to need a lot of energy for what he was planning next....

".......I think this was my fave chap from this story...Sorry about the 'the friend' bit, but I had been thinking a lot about him, so I decided to add it. Nice name right? Hehehe.....Pleaz R&R!"