Catch-22| Spencer Reid

eighteen

Grey wakes up at sunrise, her entire body shaking like leaf. She seems disoriented, groaning and sitting up immediately.

An intense headache immediately sets in, causing her to grunt in pain. "Fuck," she mutters, instinctively reaching to massage her temples with shakey hands.

"You too?" Reid's voice fills the once silent room, sounding groggy and irritated.

Grey looks to her right, seeming to make sure that he was actually awake before replying.

He's rolled onto his left side, facing her with a knowing look.

"Yeah," she confirms, blinking a couple times. "What the hell happened?"

"I knew that coffee tasted different. I should've went down and asked," he mutters, seeming to have developed some sort of theory.

Grey raises her eyebrows, inhaling sharply and saying, "I'm sorry, but please tell me right now that that lady didn't drug us."

"Wha- no! I think the coffee was just decaf or something."

She stares at the wall blankly and tilts her head. "That's somehow worse." She takes note of the clock on the wall, the time being 6:37 AM.

Reid laughs, immediately regretting it, as it emphasized the throbbing in his head. He grunts under his breath, sitting up. He looks at Grey, noticing her persistent trembling. "You're pretty caffeine dependent as well, huh?"

"Extremely. I forgot how bad withdrawls are," she responds, slowly getting out of bed. She still seems pained to make any movement, though, yelping, "Oh my God, kill me," as she makes her way to the desk where she had put her go-bag.

"Not if I kill myself first," Reid jokingly replies, sounding like he was hurting as well.

Grey opens her bag, sifting through it, in search of something to wear.

She chooses to leave on the pair of leggings she had worn to bed, as changing them seems fairly pointless. She pulls on a white V-neck, then turns to her boyfriend, asking, "You remember what the temperature's supposed to be today?"

"Today's average is forty-five," he easily replies, groaning under his breath and reaching for his go-bag.

Grey nods in acknowledgement, tugging a wrinkled light-wash button up from her bag. She pulls it on, straightening the collar and leaving it unbuttoned.

She runs her fingers through her hair a couple times, not feeling a need to interfere with the abnormally curled mess. "Get dressed faster," she sarcastically mutters, walking up to Reid's side of the bed. She tilts her head, looking down at him with a smile. "Please."

Reid gives a small grin, grasping Grey's hands and standing up. He kisses her nose, lightly saying, "As you wish."

"Thank you."

Reid brings up one of Grey's hands, moving his grip to her wrist. It seems like he's attempting to show her how bad her tremors are. "I'm definitely not letting you drive, by the way."

"That's honestly fair," she responds.

He exhales, releasing her hands with a small chuckle. He picks up his duffel bag, setting it on the bed and beginning a search for what to wear.

It doesn't take long for him to put together an ensemble, due to the fact that he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"Did you book the rooms for one night, or...?" Reid trails off, looking to Grey, then to his bag. He seems to be asking if he should bring his bag with him or not.