Bullet From A Gun (Criminal Minds)

Time to Fall

Chapter Five

'There was nothing in sight, but memories left abandoned, there was nowhere to hide, the ashes fell like snow. And the ground caved in between where we were standing...and your voice was all I heard that I'd get what I deserve.' - Linkin Park: New Divide.

Falling.
Falling.
Falling through the darkness, his heart pounded and fear crept in. He closed his eyes to imagine that impossible haven. After falling through the never ending abyss for what felt like hours, he heard them: voices taunting him. Snapping his eyes open, he couldn't see anyone; he could just hear the haunting voices.

"Reid...Reid..."

His name almost became a chant; a slow, melodious chant that echoed through the empty darkness. Trying to escape back to his haven, he shut his eyes, willing himself to ignore them.

Suddenly, he felt a blow to the left side of his head, forcing him to fly right. Looking in the direction of the force, he saw Hotch. However, this wasn't the kind, fatherly Hotch that he knew; this dream Hotch had red glaring eyes that read his soul.
Reid couldn't help but notice that they still seemed to be moving; falling downwards, yet Hotch stood straight and upright.

"You cause me nothing but trouble," he spat, "I should have fired you!"

He kept telling himself that he was simply dreaming a silly little dream, but his irrational mind refused to believe him, even with an IQ of 187. He was nothing without his job; just a smart kid with a bad past.
The dream Hotch, sensing his distress, laughed; a cold evil laugh that echoed through Reid's heart, shattering it. Then he just simply disappeared, as if he had never been there.
Spencer Reid's eyes pricked with tears; he hated the dark and he hated being alone. Now he had both; even the voices had gone. Shutting his eyes again, he waited for the impact he thought impossible to eventually come.

Then the ground hit him like a train in a tunnel, smashing into his ribs and winding him. His lungs exploded and his head pounded, blurring his vision. When he was able to focus again, he looked up onto a cold, gray, concrete ceiling. Sitting up, he noticed the whole room was bland and gray. Hugging his arms around himself, he tried to get some heat before noticing something. It was a bundle; a bundle covered in a black sheet.

Making his way closer, he gently reached for his gun - an automatic response - and felt nothing; he remembered that this was just a dream.

"C'mon Spence," he said out loud, forcing himself to pull away the black sheet. He immediately regretted it; underneath laid the dead body of Hannah Jones. Her eyes, empty and dead, stood in contrast to her cascade of dark curls. She was dead and there was nothing he could do.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Rolling onto his side, he glanced at his brick of a cell phone. The caller ID read: Derek Morgan. Glancing at the bedside alarm clock, he cussed loudly; he was an hour late.

Grabbing his phone and hitting answer, he hurriedly said, "I know, be at the station in twenty."
"No...Kid, meet us at Summerlin."
"As in the law firm?" he froze, half way through buttoning up his shirt. He couldn't go there; it had been two years…
"Reid, I promise that you don't have to go near him if you don't to."
"Morgan, I'm not letting my own Father issues get in the way of the case. I'll see you in twenty then."
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Scared, he pulled up to the yellow crime scene tape, making sure that he had his badge and gun. He could see his team through the tinted windows of his FBI issued SUV; Morgan was staring at the space where the body was presumably found, the rest were chatting about possible reasons why she was dumped there. Before getting out, he looked at a crowd of onlookers...no sign of William Reid. With a deep sigh of relief, he walked towards his team.

"Hey, sleeping beauty is awake!"
Prentiss smiled at him. She was obviously relieved that he was there, yet she could sense his hesitance and awkwardness. She also noticed how he kept looking at the small crowd forming behind the yellow tape. She knew about his Father issues and the hurt that Reid had experienced when he left. She had secretly profiled that his Father's abandonment was the core reason behind his issues.
Taking his eyes away from the people, he said quietly, "So, tell me what you know."
Hotch sighed, "Unfortunately, we don't know a lot yet. The ME is still looking over her body. But there was a change this time: the UnSub left a note."
Handing Reid a plastic evidence bag, he watched as the young man read the note in seconds.

I am watching you BAU. Hope you enjoy my present. See you soon.

"He's watching us?" with wide eyes, he looked around, "How does he know we're here? We haven't made a press statement."
"He could be a member of the Police," Morgan suggested.
Hotch clenched his jaw, "It's possible. Do not let anything go unnoticed from now on, trust each other and let's find this son of a bitch. Rossi and Reid, you go and talk to the employees of the law firm, Morgan and Prentiss you two go to the ME office and JJ, you and I will go and talk to the family of Hannah Jones."

With that, Hotch left.

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Rossi groaned as he reached the last name on the list of Summerlin employee's: William Reid.
Reid, also looking at his own list, gulped and quickly excused himself. Sighing, Rossi asked a secretary to call in William.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked up when he heard the door opening.
Standing there, in suit pants and a dress shirt, was a small man who looked a bit like Rossi's co-worker. The features were distant; the only thing very similar was the brown color of the eyes.

"Hello again, Mr Reid."
The lawyer's eyes widened in shock, "Agent Rossi?"
Nodding, David Rossi motioned for William to sit down.
"Is Spencer here?"
As if he could hear through walls or mind read, Spencer came into the small office they were using as an interview room, "Hello, Dad."
"Spencer? You've changed."
"Yeah, well a lot can happen in two years."
The anger in his voice was evident. Even though he had said that he had forgiven his father, he knew deep down he hadn't, as it was easier to say than to do.

"Anyway," Rossi interrupted, "I'm sure you heard about the body found outside this morning. The victim's name was Hannah Jones. Did you know her?"
William Reid thought for a moment then said, “Hannah? Was she related to Caitlyn Jones by any chance?"
Rossi nodded solemnly, "They were sisters."
William Reid's eyes widened slightly, "I'm Caitlyn's attorney."