I just wanted to thank all of you reviewers. That was such a response, that I had to write another chapter as thanks! You guys are great. And thanks for the formatting comments. I totally pictured this as an episode, and that lead to the way it was written. XD
On with the story . . .
Reid sat on the floor in JJ's arms for another minute, never wanting to let go. He never wanted to lose anyone again. The same thought ran through JJ's mind as she held him, feeling his shaking form. "Spence . . . we should get out of here. Come on," she said, pulling away, although reluctantly. Reid felt along the wall and stood up, swaying on his feet.
"Reid, man, what's wrong? How come you won't open your eyes?" asked Morgan, concerned.
Reid shook his head, with one arm still leaning against the wall. "It hurts . . . so bad. It's too bright . . ." he muttered, like a small child. Prentiss glanced at Rossi, and Rossi gave her a look. He gave a subtle nod, and Prentiss pulled out a pair of sunglasses.
"Reid?" she said, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. Reid jumped a little, and kept his head down.
"Emily?" he said, bringing a hand up to touch her hand.
"Here, try these," she said, placing the sunglasses in his hand. "Sunglasses," she said.
Reid's face scrunched up, and he held them. It felt strange. A small thing, an everyday object, and he was oddly elated just to have the chance to hold them again. He gently put the sunglasses on his face, hands still shaking from withdrawl. He gently opened his eyes, noticing that his head was at least not splitting anymore, although it was still bright and he still had to squint in the light. He saw JJ first, like an angel. Seeing. He could see again, even though it hurt a little. Her face . . . it was just as he remembered it. He saw Morgan, with a look on his face like he could almost cry, but still managing to look pissed. A look he had only had during the Carl Bueford case. He saw Rossi, looking always as knowing, but Rossi looked more worn than he had remembered. Something had happened to Rossi when he was gone. Of course, you idiot, Reid thought. Time doesn't stop just because I'm not there,' The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. They had been out, living lives. While he had been stuck here, in the dark. With nothing. Nothing but memories. And did he have a lot of those. Memories of murder victims . . . red, red blood.
"Come on, Pretty Boy," said Morgan affectionately, standing by him, gently touching his forearm. Suddenly, Morgan noticed. "Reid, what's that?" Reid looked, for the first time in a year and a half, and saw his inside arm. There were so many track marks, his arm was scarred and red. The new ones stood out bright against his arm, angry and bleeding from irritated picking at them. Reid had never thought to use other areas to shoot up. He couldn't see his arm, he didn't think it looked that bad.
Reid gave Morgan a shameful, pleading look, as if Morgan would yell at him. He tried rolling down the sleeves of his shirt, which he had previously rolled up due to the hot flashes.
"Reid, did he drug you?" asked Morgan, standing in front of Reid.
Reid looked up again, staring into Morgan's eyes. Morgan wasn't mad. Morgan didn't think it was Reid that shot himself up all the time. Morgan didn't believe that Reid would sink that low. At least, that's how Reid viewed it.
Reid considered for a moment. He could say yes, and feel less ashamed. But he would be called a liar by his abductor as well . . . if his abductor was alive. Or he could say no, he took them, and just be honest. He wanted to lie, but he had gone down that road once before.
"I, I need water," he rasped, avoiding the subject for now, even though his body was aching with need for the drug.
Realization hit Rossi. "Reid, have you had any water in the past three days?" he asked, concern etched on his face. Reid looked down, ashamed again.
24 hours ago
Reid had become so thirsty, he couldn't think right. All the sweating his body had done hadn't helped things, and he had become severely dehydrated. But the sink didn't run water, and he didn't have anything to drink. Except . . .
His thoughts flashed to the toilet bowl. Since he hadn't had anything to eat or drink in a couple days, he hadn't had to use the bathroom. Leaving the toilet bowl water completely available and clean.
It was so disgusting, Reid didn't want to think about it. But Reid had to think about it. He was so thirsty, he needed the water to survive, and he knew it. He crawled over, inching himself to the toilet bowl. He dipped his hand in, feeling the water soothe his dry skin. He lifted his hand out of the water, letting a few drops slide off his hand and onto his tongue. The water freshened his mouth, but he couldn't help but think about the fact that this was toilet water. He was reduced to drinking out of a toilet, like a dog. He drank another couple handfuls, still ragingly thirsty. But he leaned back, shifting weight from his leg, and his elbow hit the switch to drain the bowl. He listened as the water drained out of the bowl, with no water in the pipes to replace it, the bowl didn't refill.
Reid sighed, exhausted by the withdrawal symptoms, and leaned against the wall, feeling the cold porcelain cool his forehead.
This was going to be a long few days.
"I, I had a small drink a couple days ago," he said, speaking the longest sentence he had spoken since they found him.
Morgan could visibly see the difference in his Pretty Boy. Reid was hunched forward, keeping his hands crossed over his torso. He kept his eyes down, and when he looked up, he avoided eye contact. Reid was still squinting, even though the door was only letting in a little light, and Prentiss had put away the flashlight.
Rossi nodded at Reid's request for water. "C'mon, Reid. Let's get you out of here. There's an ambulance waiting outside, so you can get checked out. Ok?" he said.
Reid nodded, not looking up. He almost didn't believe they were here. Like they were side effects of dehydration. But he began to walk anyway. He walked towards the doorway nervously, as if not sure whether or not he wanted to leave.
Prentiss walked forward to Reid as he paused in front of the doorway, still heavily squinting underneath the sunglasses. She noticed his facial expression, and the display of emotions it held. Nervousness, closure, tranquility, anxiety, shame, guilt. All these emotions somehow displayed on his face. Reid always had expressive body language and facial expressions, but now they were practically written on him.
She gently reached for his hand, and when he looked up, she smiled. "We're here, Reid. And we're not going anywhere."
He nodded, gently grasping her hand and giving it a squeeze. Rossi and JJ walked in front of Reid out the doorway, and Morgan and Prentiss trailed behind.
As Reid stepped into the light, he closed his eyes in a flinch, but quickly opened them, although slightly, and continued walking. He carefully managed the steps, and when he reached the top of the stairs, he paused.
His team watched him sadly as he just closed his eyes, and breathed. Reid took in the smells, the grass, the wind. He hadn't realized he didn't have shoes until he was outside, since he never really needed shoes. He opened his eyes and just looked around.
Green trees, large lush maples, surrounded him. Virginia was always a beautiful state, but he never appreciated the colors and sights as much as he did right at the moment. He looked around, like a blind man seeing for the first time. But with Reid, it was more like seeing an old friend.
He let some tears of relief spill as he stood, just seeing. He didn't even know how long he was in that place. Never even seeing anything.
"Come on, Reid. Let's get you out of here," said Rossi. He looked at the young man with pity, and relief that they found him. Reid took a step forward, his hand-eye coordination was completely out of practice and poor at the moment. But he managed. Prentiss lead the way back to the house, while Morgan walked right with Reid the whole way back to the house, ready in case anything bad happened. No one spoke on the way to the house, because no words could have summed up anything they were feeling at the moment.
"I'm going to call Hotch," said JJ as Reid was pulled away to the ambulance, Morgan following in tow. The medics began checking him out, standard routine.
"What now?" asked Prentiss, looking at Rossi with a lost expression on her face, watching as the ambulance pulled away with Reid and Morgan inside.
Rossi shrugged. "With Reid, or with the case?"
He sighed, and shrugged again. "I guess we'll have to find out, won't we? I guess this case is pretty much solved, it never was much of a case anyway. But I do want to find out why this guy took Reid in the first place," said Rossi.
Prentiss nodded, looking angry again. "It's just, he was right here, Rossi. He was ten miles away, and we never even found him. We hardly looked. And what exactly happened to him back there? We don't even know!" she ranted.
Rossi nodded. "I guess we'll find out when we read Dwyre's journals."
Hotch stood outside the interrogation room, going through some of Dwyre's journals, feeling dread well up inside him for the mental health of his youngest agent. Well, he wasn't sure what to call Reid anymore. Suddenly, his phone rang. He picked it up anxiously, hoping to get information on Reid. "Hotchner," he said, his standard greeting.
"Hey Hotch, it's JJ," her voice quavered over the line. Her voice was still strong, it just trembled at the same time. It was an odd combination.
"Did you find him?" asked Hotch, jumping right to the point. He held his breath without realizing it, waiting for the answer.
"Yeah, we found him. He's alive, Hotch," said JJ.
Hotch breathed out, closing his eyes for a moment. "Where is he now?"
"They're taking him to St. John's hospital in Quantico. For standard check-ups. That's all I know," she said, sighing.
Hotch nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "I'm meeting you there. All of you," he said. "I don't care about protocol. We are not, after all this, leaving Reid alone."
Hey, not much happened in this chapter except for Reid getting all, 'oooh, ahhh'. But hey, if you hadn't seen ANYTHING at all for a year and a half, you'd be like that too.