Bullet From A Gun (Criminal Minds)

Weep For Yourself My Man.

Chapter Six

 
‘Weep for yourself my man, you'll never be what is in your heart. Weep Little Lion Man, you're not as brave as you were at the start.’ - Mumford & Sons: Little Lion Man
 
He was drained; physically, emotionally and mentally. His head pounded and his eyelids were heavy as he reached for yet another file while taking a drink of his too sugary coffee. The entire team had been assigned to reading files of potential UnSubs that Garcia had sent over, but he was distracted.
 
After seeing his father, he had excused himself from his team, and gone to a bathroom. As soon as he locked the door, he broke down. Tears flooded down his thin face; his slim frame shuddered with every passing sob.

Spencer Reid had cracked.

He cried for his team, for his family, for himself. JJ eventually noticed how long he had been gone and went to look for him. She was shocked to find him hunched over, sobbing. She had embraced him and soothed him as he clung to her like a child does to their mother. She held him while he cried long enough for him to regain his composure to go back to work.
 
Now, sitting in the small station of the NLVPD, he looked at his team. Morgan was reading files, the anger in his face growing more evident with each passing word he read, JJ and Prentiss were in a deep conversation, occasionally looking at him - he knew JJ was telling her about his breakdown - and Rossi and Hotch sat simply in a comfortable silence, staring at an evidence board.

Sighing loudly, he quickly returned to work; his only motivation was his steaming mug of sugary coffee.
 
Hotch, hearing a loud sigh, diverted his attention from the evidence board to see a team that looked down trodden. He glanced quickly at the clock above their heads; it read 12.50am. Damn, that’s late...
He'd been so caught up in going over this case and trying to link the pieces he didn't notice they had worked way past their usual time.

“Okay, everybody, listen up! Let's head back to the hotel and try to get some rest. We’re going to need it if we're going to crack this case.”
 
Spencer Reid sighed as he stepped through the threshold of his room. Hallelujah for separate rooms, he thought with relief. Dropping his mustard coloured messenger bag on the soft carpeted floor, he made his way to the bedroom. Lying down on the soft, springy bed, a wave of numbness embraced him, easing all the tension that had collected in his back. After roughly five minutes of lying like a log, he decided getting changed into something comfier would be better. Swiftly, he made his way over to the chest of drawers that held the clothes from his go bag. He grabbed a pair of light gray sweat bottoms from the second pine drawer. As he was practically jogging to the bathroom, the prospect of bed was playing on his mind so much, he didn't notice the silhouette of a person standing on his balcony.
 
 _______________________________________________________________________________________

“Hotch? Is Reid with you?”

 Please say yes...Please...

"No, Morgan. I thought he was coming with you?”

“I thought so too, but I'm in his room now, and he isn't here. Hotch, the place is a mess; there's been a struggle.”

And he was right. On the floor lay the remains of what was once a pale blue lamp, around the balcony lay the shattered remains of what was the glass door and there was blood. Not a lot for someone to be seriously hurt, but enough for Morgan to worry.

Maybe the kid just flipped out and went to cool off, he told himself, but deep down he didn't believe it. His little brother was in danger.

“We'll be right there!”

Hanging up, Morgan proceeded to look around for any clues to where Reid may be. Looking near the blue shards of broken lamp, he saw something: a neatly folded square of plain white paper. Carefully opening it up, he scanned the words.
 
Hello BAU. I told you I'd hope we'd see one another soon, I just didn’t expect this soon. I'm going to have fun with Dr. Reid. Five days.
 
Gulping, he waited for the arrival of his team, wishing he'd been there to help his best friend.
_______________________________________________________________________________________ 
Two hours later, the team were at the station again, waiting for forensics on the note, fingerprints, DNA… anything to give them a clue.

No one said anything. The last time Reid was kidnapped he nearly died… no, he actually did die. It plagued the team - with the exception of Rossi. The images of Reid being beaten before them… They didn't want that to happen again. That was the last thing they wanted.
 
As Hotch started to talk, his mobile rang with an unknown number.

“Hotchner?” His voice was cautious and suspicious as he awaited the other end to respond.

“Hotch? Oh god, Hotch.”

 On the other end of the phone came the crying voice of none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.