IMPORTANT NOTICE: If you read the first part of this work before January 6th 2016, please, read it again. It has been revised and extended. You'll find some substantial changes to it.
Happy New Year! Thanks to everyone who has followed, reviewed or marked this story as a favorite, you encourage me and make me really happy. Your advice is invaluable and I learn a lot from it.
PART 2.
The rock Derek had in his hand fell again on the head of the screwdriver, with a big noise.
"I. Swear. We. Will. Get. Out. Of. This!"
With every word, there was a new hit on the head of the screwdriver. Morgan had been using it as a chisel to cut a long branch from the base of a dry tree. After the last, furious blow, the hard wood finally gave in. The branch fell to the ground, next to some other ones he'd cut before.
(At last...)
Panting, he cleaned the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He could feel the sunburn on his face, on his head and on his arms, despite having been out there only for a short while. He got up and stretched himself, feeling the tension in his muscles as he did so. Then, he drank some water, holding back his desire of downing it all at once. He was really worn out, but there would be time to rest later. He shivered and looked at the sky, which was already turning into hues of orange and red above his head. The temperature was starting to drop. The night was close at hand.
(Shit. Where did the damned afternoon go? I need to do this faster, seriously.)
Sighing impatiently, he went to put some more twigs in the fire, to keep it burning. He wanted to hope that somehow, someone was going to see it and finally come to their rescue, but at the same time, he felt he had been trusting his good luck for too long. Hotch should be looking for them by now, but there was no sign of help yet… and probably there would never be.
However, the fire also helped to keep the wildlife away and it was another welcome distraction from the dark thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him, from the very moment he saw his friend pass out.
He had been thinking that to stay where they were, would be basically a death sentence for Reid. They needed to move, even if it was only for his own peace of mind. Even if it was hopeless. He would not be just sitting there, doing nothing, watching how his friend was getting closer to death with every passing minute. Never.
He had figured out a way of moving Reid. He could carry him on his back, certainly, but that would be dangerous and exhausting for both of them, so, he devised a makeshift stretcher. For that purpose he would use the remaining blanket, the seat belt straps and the branches he just got.
At the same time he had been working on that, he kept checking his friend's condition often. Every time he did so, the sense of urgency grew bigger. He had to apply new dressings to the wound on top of the first one, in two occasions, because they were getting blood-drenched.
Spencer had been oblivious for ages. That in itself was a huge cause of concern. Slowly but surely, with every passing moment, the temperature of his body was increasing. The only thing Morgan could think about what to do, was to try to reduce his friend's fever by placing a cloth dampened with cold water on his forehead. For that, he tore the sleeves of his own shirt and used the water left in the bottom of the broken jerry can.
Derek started to think that maybe it was better for Spencer to remain unconscious, at least for a while. It was odd to see him completely lost and overtaken by his panic and his pain. He always had been logical, calm and quick-thinking, even in the worst situations of his life… seeing him reduced to a whimpering child was painful. He knew Reid's best weapons were his intelligence, his eloquence and reasoning ability… Those had saved his life many times in the past… but there was no reasoning with nature. A rattlesnake wasn't an enemy you could subdue with words.
With a sigh, the man looked at the car… and wondered… Maybe Spencer knew something he didn't. Maybe he could already see that there was no hope.
(No, Derek… no. Don't do this. As if not bringing that damned sat phone, crashing the car and letting your best friend to be bitten by a snake in the middle of nowhere was not enough… Stop.)
He hit himself on the leg with his fist, as a punishment.
He decided to go back to the SUV, to check on his friend again and get the straps to put the stretcher together. It was almost time to use the flashlight, as well. He was thinking things could not get much more adverse than that.
He was wrong.
As soon as he saw Reid, Morgan realized things could always be much worse.
Spencer was breathing hard, sweating copiously, shivering and moaning softly. His cheeks were red and now the wound was more swollen. For a moment, Derek didn't know what to do. This was more terrifying than almost any 'unsub' he had faced in the past.
Quickly, he poured some more water on the cloth he had been using to cool down his friend's forehead and started to wipe his face, head and neck carefully. As he did so, unconsciously, he started to recite the Lord's Prayer, in silence.
"Spencer, you have to be strong, do you hear me? We will get out of this hell, one way or another. I swear…"
Reid's eyes fluttered open.
Somehow, that didn't make Morgan feel relieved.
"It is… too dark… I c-can't see you…" He whispered, trying to sit up. However, the pain in his shoulder stopped him and he fell in the same position again, wheezing, with clear distress shown on his face. "…Dad?"
Derek raised his eyebrows, as he realized that his friend's mind was in a place far, far away and he was staring at a different person.
He switched the torch on, in the hope that the light would make his colleague realize where he was. It didn't work.
"Hey kid. How do you feel?" He asked, trying to hide his worry with another pretended smile.
(Inside Spencer's mind, the image of his childhood bedroom was gloomy. The full moon was the only source of light, painting the shapes of the partially closed blinds on the blue colored wall. His books and scientific toys sat proudly on the shelves at the opposite side from the bed. A baseball bat, cap and glove were forgotten in one corner, hidden in the shadows. A tall man with dark hair and brown eyes, the man whom the child admired… and feared… the most, his father, was standing next to the door, with a resigned expression on his face, one hand on the knob and a suitcase in the other…)
"Dad..." Reid's voice was soft and weary. A murmur, almost. "Please… please don't go… I'll be good… I promise… "
Every one of those simple words was a blow for Derek's heart. He knew both of them had grown up without a father… but his circumstances and Spencer's couldn't be more different. His dad died as a hero… his young friend, instead, was abandoned.
"Reid..."
"I'll do whatever you want… just… just… Don't go… Don't go!" He exclaimed. Derek put some more fresh water on the cloth and replaced it on his burning brow. The hurt and the plea in those hazy brown eyes were almost unbearable. They angered him.
He was only starting to discover the torment hidden within his little brother's soul. A pain inflicted by one of the people that should've loved him most… his own father. An aching Spencer had kept buried, unsuspected for every person outside the walls he had built around himself through the years… walls that now were being torn down by a feverish delirium.
William Reid had left his only child alone, with his mentally ill mother, seventeen years ago. How the hell a man could be capable of such cruelty? Morgan could not explain. He thought that the only way he would leave a child of his own behind, was if he was dead. He simply didn't understand that someone could think otherwise. For him, that person simply didn't deserve to be called a father.
The worst part was that the wound was as fresh in Spencer's mind, as if it had happened yesterday… Hurting all the time, like an unremoved splinter. The encounter with his father in Las Vegas all those weeks ago, during the investigation for the murder of Riley Jenkins, only served to bring the monsters back to the surface.
Maybe William Reid did not commit the crime for which his son blamed him, but in reality, his sin was almost as bad as the one of Riley's real murderer, Gary Michaels. Spencer's rejection toward him was too small as a punishment, for all those years of abandonment, heartbreak, humiliations, suffering, absence and fear.
"Don't go… Don't go, please..."
"Kid… kid, you have to calm down. Ok? Everything is fine." Morgan whispered and his voice broke in the last word.
(Within Reid's dilution, the man left the suitcase on the floor and came silently into the room, looking around as if he wanted to record every single detail of it, maybe because he would never stand in this place again and he wanted to remember. There was a hint of disappointment on his face, when he saw the sport toys abandoned in the corner and that empty space on the shelf where that baseball trophy would never be. Even so, he approached the bed, sighing. He sat there, next to the boy, for the longest time…)
"It's my f-fault..." Reid mumbled, his glassy eyes looking straight at Derek as if he was looking through his soul. His hand grabbed the one of his colleague with unexpected strength. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, dad..."
Morgan frowned.
"Sorry for what?"
"Because… because I'm not the son you w-wanted… I'm so sorry… Don't go… Don't go..."
(Of course, in his rational mind, Spencer knew the decision of leaving his family behind was all his father's. However, that knowledge didn't stop his emotional self to believe for many years that, somehow, he was the one to blame for William's abandonment, for not meeting his expectations… for not being a 'normal' child. That belief was what later prompted him to get PhDs as if they were sports trophies… to show the man that he could do it, he could live and reach his full potential, all by himself.)
Derek shook his head, in a clear sign of frustration and desperation. Did Spencer really think it was his fault that his father left? How can a person be selfish enough to leave without an explanation and allow their child to believe that? He wanted, he needed to stop this torture, for his little brother's sake… and his own.
"It's not your fault, Spencer." He said, firmly. "It never was. Sometimes people do things that are hard to understand, even for a genius. You have always been a good son. You're not guilty of anything."
"I'm sorry… so sorry..."
Morgan exhaled a disgruntled sigh, at the same time he used the cloth with his free hand to keep trying to refresh his friend's temple. He thought this probably wasn't helping him at all, but at the moment there was nothing else he could do.
(In the dream, the boy could hear the stifled voice of his beloved mother, screaming nonsense from behind the closed door of the bedroom across the hallway… accusing the man who was still her husband, calling him weak and coward. He could see the grim expression on his father's face and it was appalling, especially for a child that could clearly understand everything that was happening, even at his young age.)
'"Please… I'm scared… mom's sick… mom's very sick and s-she won't remember me… She'll say nasty things and attack me… she doesn't realize… Dad… I… I need you… Don't go… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry..."
Reid exhaled a quiet sob. At the same time, a tear ran down the side of his face and got lost in his hair. Morgan couldn't help remembering that night, almost a year ago, when his friend opened up to him and confessed about one horrible day, when his much older high school classmates stripped him of his clothes and tied him to a goal post, leaving him helpless and cold in the dark… and then, when he managed to free himself and came home, hours later, it was just to find out that his mother was having another episode.
Jesus Christ! The suffering, the fear had to be intolerable… and that kid was alone in the world to face it!
Derek felt a great and honest admiration for this man's strength and resilience. Of course, Spencer had shown these qualities in the past, but it was the first time Morgan acknowledged them as what they really were, the foundations of an exceptional soul… The soul of the one who endured everything, anything in order not to lose also his mother.
"Shhh… Don't worry anymore." Morgan said, soothingly, at the time he wiped the moisture from Spencer's face.
"Don't go… Don't go please… I'll be good… I won't be sick like mom… Don't want to be sick like mom… I… I am afraid to be sick like mom… I'm sorry… so sorry… just don't go… Don't..."
Of course Reid was delirious… but Derek wondered how much sense there was in his words. Could it be that his father ran away from the possibility of not only his wife having schizophrenia, but also his son? Was William Reid coward enough to do that, not caring to leave both of them, his family, in danger? If that was the case, Morgan thought… Not only he didn't deserve to be called a father… he didn't deserve to be called a man. If one day he had the chance to see that guy again…
"You won't be sick like your mom, Spencer… And even if you do, I'll always be there. I will always be your friend, no matter what happens. I will stay. I promise. Calm down… calm down… I will stay." Derek said, with tears stinging in his eyes, without actually thinking much about it. Right now his goal was to keep his friend calm, at all cost.
"Dad… I… I love you..."
Those words Reid said, were the last ones Morgan expected. They were surprising and heartbreaking. In spite of the years… in spite of the damage, deep inside, incredibly, he still cared for his father.
"Do you… do you love me?" Spencer asked then, his blurry eyes full of doubt, but also hope.
Derek knew that William Reid never allowed himself another chance to have a family and he treasured every single bit of information he had found about his son… everyone would say that 'it was his special and twisted way to love him', but for him, that was no love, at all. It was only regret. The agent thought it was ironic and in a way, ridiculous, that the man could still feel pride for Spencer's achievements… considering he never helped to build them. He even became an obstacle, putting in his son's shoulders a burden he should've never had to carry.
Anyway, this was not the moment for him to think about what his best friend's father did in the past. Right now, his priority was Spencer's wellbeing.
That was why Morgan decided to say it.
He was relieved because there was no one else listening and he hoped with all of his heart for Reid not to remember this later, if they survived. It was quite embarrassing, but he had to do it.
(Thank God Garcia is not here.)
"Yes. I love you." He said.
The pressure of Reid's hand on his relaxed slightly. He closed his eyes, with a sigh and a hint of a weak smile on his face. His breathing started to calm down, at least for a while.
"Spencer… everything will be all right… you will be all right. You will be all right."
This time, there was no guilt in Derek's words. He was going to fight to keep his best friend alive. With more determination than ever, he grabbed his knife and quickly cut off all the seatbelts he could reach. Time was short. He still had a lot of things to do, before he could take him out of this hell.
It was already dark when Derek finally left the SUV with the straps of the seat belts in his hands. He stopped for a moment and turned off the flashlight, to look at the sky above.
There were more stars than he had ever seen in his life. The moon was not present tonight; instead, the imposing Milky Way was there, shinning in the center of a dark blue velvet blanket that seemed to have millions of scintillating gemstones embroidered in it. There were colors he didn't even know they existed. It was absolutely stunning and Morgan couldn't help but smile.
"Oh, Reid, man… You were right. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen... Looking at it would easily make you forget your fear of the dark, I'm sure…"
(I wish you could see it…)
Morgan swallowed. Then, not wasting anymore time, he turned the torch back on and went to the place where he had the rest of the elements for his improvised stretcher. He was tired, however, he had to go on in order to try to get his colleague out of there. He could not just stop when a life was at stake.
He cut some of the straps in short pieces and kept two long ones, hoping for this to be enough. He suited the branches on the ground, the two long ones parallel at a short distance above the three shorter ones. He started to tie them together, the best way he could. The seat belts material was not great, but at least it was flexible enough to allow him to make knots with it.
Sometime later, he had a decent wooden frame that would allow him to carry his friend behind him. He was going to have to drag one of the ends, of course, but the stretcher was long enough for Reid not to touch the ground at any moment. Morgan placed the blanket folded on top of the frame and hoped for this to be not too uncomfortable for Spencer. He was also hoping for the trip not to be too long anyway, there had to be phone signal somewhere.
He stood up admiring his work for a moment, then drank another small sip from his bottle.
"Right, kid. It's time to go, at last." He said out loud and sighed, stifling a yawn. Then, he went back to the SUV, to finally get his friend out.
Carefully, he carried Spencer placing one arm behind his back and the other one under his knees. He set him on the stretcher, trying with all of his might not to hurt his shoulder or leg to any further extent. He put yet another dressing on top of the others, to try to slow down the bleeding from the bite. The man was still feverish, but Derek covered him with a part of the blanket, because he didn't want him to get pneumonia, besides all. That would be the last straw. He used the longer straps that he reserved, to tie his friend to the wooden frame and keep him as stable as possible.
Once he did that, making sure that his friend was not going to fall from the fragile structure at the time they started their trip, Morgan placed the band of the lantern on his shoulder and across his chest, in the same fashion Reid used to carry his messenger bag. That way, the flashlight kept hanging on his left side, next to his hip, lighting the ground in front of him. Then, he put both bottles with the last of the water in the backpack and carried it once again.
He took a couple of deep breaths before he lifted Spencer's weight on the stretcher behind him. It wasn't that heavy, but Derek found it quite challenging. Even though his forehead was covered with sweat in seconds, he didn't give up and started to walk, slowly, first to get to the road and then, in the direction of the town. Having twenty eight miles ahead, he was praying to not have another close encounter with the lovely wildlife, because this time it would be really difficult to reach his gun.
He couldn't stop the memories of his friendship with Spencer from coming to his mind… the funny moments… the sad… Every time they teased each other… every time they helped… every time they saved their lives, or the lives of others…
The weight was hurting his arms and shoulders. His steps were short and slower than he wanted, but Morgan promised himself, and Reid, that he was not going to give up.
(We are going to get out of this, kid… we have to get out of this… God, just let us out of this…)
One man in a khaki colored uniform and another one dressed with black suit, white shirt and red tie were walking through a wide hallway in the direction of one of the lifts of Terminal 3, at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport.
The man with uniform had a clipboard. On it, the other could see a folded map that had the area at the north-west of Bagdad highlighted with red marker, along with photos of Morgan and Reid.
"Agent Hotchner, this is the area where we're going to start our search." The pilot and paramedic for Arizona Department of Public Safety claimed. "I have seen from the air that settlement you're talking about. It's quite isolated. There are only three buildings there. I think they don't even have electricity from the grid."
"Thank you, Captain Nicholls." Aaron said. His usual stoic expression was betrayed by the worry showed in his eyes. "I honestly appreciate the fact that you're doing this with such a short notice. Common sense tells me I should wait until the morning… but I have a feeling that there's something wrong. Two Federal Agents vanished in thin air and there has to be a very powerful reason for that. I would not like to risk their lives just because we took too long to start the search."
"There's nothing to worry about. It's our job." The pilot smiled.
They stopped in front of the lift and the man in uniform pressed the button to go up. The elevator didn't take long to arrive. Soon they were heading to the helipad.
"Excuse me, Sir…" Nicholls said, after a brief pause. "These men have to be really important, for you to come to personally supervise the search, especially at this time of the night."
"You're right, Captain. They're not only two elite members of the FBI and the BAU under my command. They're also my friends… family, if you want to see it that way. They're not answering their phones. Dr. Reid would never fail to call me when he said he would. I almost lost him once before, because It took me too long to come to the rescue. I will not make the same mistake again, even if in the end we find that they are all right and there's nothing to worry about. We need to locate them, as soon as possible. I wish I could help you to do that, but I know you and your crew can do that job better than anyone."
"We'll try our best, Agent Hotchner. I assure you. You'll have news from your agents as soon as we find something."
"Thanks again… and good luck." The Unit Chief said, with a grateful expression on his face, at the time he shook Nicholls' hand. At the same time, the door of the lift opened to the darkness outside. The wind caused by the spinning blades of the Bell 407 helicopter was very strong and the sound of its rotor was deafening.
Nicholls waved good bye and ran to the vehicle. Aaron saw him boarding and remained there, staring at the white and blue aircraft as it took off and disappeared into the black sky.
Hotchner knew the night was a big obstacle for their search, but he wanted to have faith in the rescuers' expertise. He was hoping for them to find his subordinates alive and well… and soon. It was frustrating for him just to think about having to tell their relatives they were dead, just as he had to do after they lost six agents in the Boston bombing, four years ago. It would break the team, the family beyond repair and be a big setback for the whole Bureau. They simply couldn't afford that.
(Morgan, Reid… what happened? where the hell are you?)
TO BE CONTINUED.
Author's Note: Originally, this work was written in two parts, but when I decided to rewrite it, I got carried away a bit and the second part became too long. I decided to divide the story in three parts instead. However, by the time you're reading this, it will be already written and I promise, it will not take as long as the second one to be published. That will be the final part. Again, thank you for your interest. Hope to see you soon.