Chapter 2: Something's Missing
The world was all sharp angles and sinister shadows. Reid slowly opened his eyes and looked around the room at the dirty surroundings enclosing him. With a throbbing head, he brushed a few chunks of blonde curls out of his damp eyes. Whether they was tears or not, he couldn't tell. His clothes smelt of stale coffee and his mouth was flooded with the bitter and metallic taste of fresh blood.
"Where am I?" he quietly muttered to himself, using the tip of his ripped sleeve to wipe away the crusted blood of a busted bottom lip. He spit out the rest of its bitter taste with extreme vigor.
"Can't say for sure" came a voice from deep within the shadows of the tiny room.
Reid was so shocked by the presence of a second voice, he instinctively jumped at the sound. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled with nervous energy. He hadn't expected an answer.
"Hello?" he whispered into the darkness. Nothing.
"Hello?" he said again, this time with more authority, although his voice still managed to crack under the pressure. Still nothing. Maybe he had only imagined a response. He remembered that schizophrenic voices were sometimes common in situations of this much stress and were exceedingly heightened when your family history suggested crazy relatives and chains of multiple sanitariums.
Still he tried for a third time. "Hel-"
"I'm here" interrupted the same meek voice as before. Reid could now tell that it was distinctly female and most definitely real. The voice also sounded young, really young. Well, at least I'm not going crazy, he thought with dismal amusement.
Reid squinted into the blackness trying to make out the shape of a human body. His hands began to sweat and his shallow breathing increased like it always did when he was scared. Ever since he could remember the darkness sent chills up and down his spine and he once remembered Morgan tirelessly teasing him for still being afraid of the dark. That all seemed like a distant memory now. Tucking his knees up under his chin, he couldn't help but long for a nightlight.
"What's your name?" he asked tentatively, feeling like a child himself. His training told him the first steps to a proper profile were making personal connections.
"Sammy. You?" Her tone held a tinge of hopefulness and relief he hadn't quiet expected.
"SSA Dr. Spencer Reid" he said instinctively. Only after the long pause that followed did Reid realize how stupid he sounded introducing himself by his full title. Lately, the constant workdays had morphed him into 'Reid the profiler' instead of 'Reid the person'.
"Sorry Sammy, my name's Spencer" he said, trying to make his tone as comforting and paternal as possible. Even though this girl sounded somewhere between the ages of ten and twelve he couldn't help but think of Jack. A sense of protectiveness swept over Reid as he thought about Hotch's baby boy. The last thing he needed to do was frighten this little girl.
"Not that I'm happy you're here," said Sammy with matter 'o factness, "but it's nice to hear a friendly voice. Or any voice really, outside of his." The emphasis she put on the word 'his' clearly proved she regarded him with a mixture of fear, hatred, and disgust.
"Do you know who 'he' is exactly?" asked Reid. He attempted to take another look around the dingy room but was, once again, met with total and utter darkness. He faintly remembered shoving his glasses into the left front pocket of his jacket but neither seemed to be anywhere within reaching distance. Reid shivered at the prospect of spending multiple days down in this cold and damp cellar. At least, due to the approximate temperature and overwhelming smell of mold, that was his best guess.
"I've never actually seen his face" replied Sammy, "but I'm not sure I'd even want to. The black mask he wears gives me nightmares."
Reid laughed despite himself. That's just what he needed; more nightmares.
"Just hang in there sweetie. I'll find us both a way out of here."
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"Hey, BabyGirl. Wasn't expecting the call but you know I can't resist the sweet ramblings of my very own tech goddess." Morgan teased as he answered his cell and set it on the counter, switching the dial to speaker. "What's up?"
"Derek," Immediately, Morgan knew something was wrong. Garcia rarely ever used his first name let alone start a sentence with it.
"Garcia, is everything alright. What's happened?" This time it was Hotch who asked the question; his eyebrows more creased and anxious than usual.
Garcia sounded pained and worried. Her breathing resonated heavily through the speaker. Seconds passed as the team, now focused intently on the tiny cell phone, waited for Garcia's response. "Baby, what is it?" Morgan tried to sound patient but he was getting hastily more nervous. Even after all the horrific people, places, and situations they'd all dealt with, Garcia had never sounded this panicked. Detaching herself from the endless murder and gore was what she'd always been good at; masking all her true feelings with witty banter and sparkly writing utensils.
"Do any of you know where Reid is?" her voice sounded fragile; like at any moment she could break down into a torrent of tears.
"Of course, he's here on the plane" said JJ, staring at the phone like it were a UFO. But as she looked around at the rest of her colleagues, she couldn't help but remember how quiet the trip had been and noticed its lack of random statistics. The same blank and confused expressions passed over the faces of every member. "He's here on the plane," JJ repeated to herself, willing it to be true.
"Is he?"
