Unknown- A Criminal Minds Fanfic

Chapter 30- Lollipops and Fairies

"Ahhhh!" I shouted, jerking awake. 

I stopped screaming when I saw the blood spilling down my front was actually just a ribbon of sweat between my breasts, sticking the shirt to my skin.  I panted for breath as the graphic images playing in my head were replaced by the dark scene in Reid's bedroom.

I was kneeling up in bed in a half-crouched position, the blankets tangled around my calves.  One of my knees was digging into Reid's chest, the other pressed into the mattress, and I had his arms pinned to the bed by one of my hands on each of his biceps.  His hands were up defensively, though, and he looked terrified.  The minute realization struck me, I released him and dropped back onto the bed.  A shuddery sigh escaped my lips, and I shoved my hair out of my face with one hand, glancing furtively from Reid to the floor and back again as he sat up.

I couldn't help but notice the poorly concealed grimace on his face as he rolled his shoulder.  He must have taken his sling off to sleep, and I had just, well, just assaulted him.  In his own apartment. 

"Charlie, what is going on?" he asked me, his voice low.  He comfortingly scooted a little closer to me on the mattress, his shoulder not hurting anymore apparently.

"I could ask you the same thing," I retorted, but all of the fire was gone.  My voice sounded like the last wisp of smoke trailing away once the flames had been doused with water.

"I heard you yelling from the other room," he offered softly as an explanation before asking, "Nightmare?"

"Nah, I was dreaming about lollipops and fairies," I said.  Despite my attempts to hold it back, a smirk turned up the corner of my mouth at how ridiculous it sounded, but it quickly faded as embarrassment took over.  I covered up everything with sarcasm, no doubt he had profiled that by now.

The concern, and fear, glinting in Reid's eyes slowly faded.  Now he just looked sad.

He stood up and started towards the open door of his bedroom, stiffly fixing the flannel pajama sleeve slipping off his shoulder from when I had basically tackled him.  I caught a flash of white skin, paler than the single beam of light slipping through the closed curtains over the window.  The top two buttons of his shirt had somehow come undone in our struggle, too.

"Reid, I'm sorry," I breathed, barely louder than a whisper.

"It's not your fault," he said sympathetically.  He paused a beat before admitting, "I used to get them, too.  When I first started at the BAU."

"This one wasn't about any of our cases," I admitted gravely.  Probably one of the few true things I'd told him since--well, since we met on my first day.

The short silence stretched uncomfortably long, but he broke it by offering, "Do you want me to stay in here with you?  I can grab a chair," the word trailing off as he gestured to the armchair against the wall.

I was shaking and my eyes smarted, but with a deep breath I forced myself to still, rubbing my hands across my face."Yeah, if you want," I pushed the words past the lump in my throat, "No promises I won't attack you again, though," I teased, trying my best to sound less helpless than I felt.

A small smile crept across his face in the dim light.  It loosened and smoothed the sickeningly tight knot that had been growing in my stomach since the door had opened in my dream.

He dropped down into the armchair, again failing covering up his injury because I clearly saw him wince.

"You don't need to lose anymore sleep than you already have," I changed my mind, "Come on.  You take the bed, I'll take the couch," I said, untangling my legs from the blankets and climbing out of bed.

"You woke up screaming bloody murder and terrified both of us, there's no way I'm leaving you alone even if it is just in the other room.  Get back in bed, I'll stay here," he said.

"Reid, I'm not actually going to be getting any more sleep. You might as well try and get some yourself," I insisted. 

I wasn't even being generous, I was just being logical.

"McDowell, you could at least try to get some sleep," Reid repeated.

"Yeah, that's all I can do," I shot back wearily.

He sighed and got up, walking over by the bed and attempting to fix the blankets that were twisted together and falling off.  I wordlessly helped him, scooping up and straightening the ones that had trailed onto the floor. Once the bed was fixed, Reid pulled back the blankets and gave me a look before going to sit back down.

I was done arguing even though I didn't like the outcome it had achieved, so I reluctantly climbed back in bed, pulling them over me.  I turned my back to him and even though it was pointless, I closed my eyes to sleep.

I must have fallen back asleep, though, because suddenly I was sitting bolt upright in the bed, almost as terrified at seeing I wasn't dead as I had been when I thought I was being killed by the man again.  No screaming though, my breath was just coming in ragged gasps.

Reid stirred in the chair, getting up and trudging the few feet across the floor before climbing in the other side, flopping on top of the blankets and pulling me back down to the pillows next to him. 

"S'okay, go back to sleep," he mumbled, leaving his arm around me. 

I hoped he wouldn't remember it the next morning, because I scooted closer to him as  I shook under the covers, the weight of his arm the only thing keeping me from wanting to scream.

Because it hadn't been a nightmare, it had been a memory.  The man who kept showing up in my dreams was the man I saw almost every morning, leaving the little café two blocks from my apartment building that I drove past on my way to work.

The human brain can't fabricate faces, every person you see in your dreams is a person you've seen before in real life.  And I had seen my killer.