(no subject)
I just watched Criminal Minds 3x16 - Elephant’s Memory - and wauugh Reid. I can’t write him enough to put him into mixed_muses or something, and I can’t get anyone else to either. So this is an attempt to de-flailify my brain a bit. It’s Sue-licious, but it does make the scenario a little more cheerful, and it's so trite it wouldn't normally see the light of day the internet, but I haven't written anything even this long in forever and figured that I might as well post it.
With his hands still tied behind him he couldn’t see his watch - if he even still had it - but he knew he had to have been there for a couple hours when the small figure appeared at the far side of the football field, dark in the dying sunlight. He couldn’t see who it was, but they seemed to be looking for something - looking for him, he realised, as the figure promptly made for the goalposts. Torn between relief and further humiliation, humiliation promptly took the lead as the person came closer and he could see who it was: Kelly something-or-other, the new kid who’d spoken to him during math and who hadn’t been with the assembly who’d met him after school. But more to the point, she was a girl, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment all over again.
“Oh my God.” He couldn’t bring himself to lift his head up, but he heard her push her hair away from her face in a frantic gesture of confusion. “Oh, God. They weren’t making it up... It’s Spencer, right? Spencer Reid?”
A tiny gesture of his head did duty as a ‘yes’, and she ran her hands through her long hair again. “Okay, well, um. Let’s get you down from there first, yeah?”
The next time he looked up he couldn’t see her, but he could feel hot small hands struggling with the ties on his wrists as Kelly swore to herself under her breath. It occurred to him that she should probably have gone for the ties at his ankles first - just as the first ropes came free, and he half-fell, half-collapsed forwards to the sound of her concerned squeak as she grabbed his arm to keep him upright.
“I’m sorry!” Though he couldn’t see her, Kelly’s flailing was obvious. “I should’ve gone for your feet... Can you, um, can you hold on to the pole while I do the other knots?”
He shook his head as he tried. “It - it hurts too much.”
“Must be the blood being cut off.” She bit her lip. “Um. Think you can manage to balance? I’ll be as quick as I can, I promise.”
With a bit of help, he found that he could, and she set to work on the second ropes. These came free more easily - he’d thought at the time that they hadn’t tied them so well - and this time he really did collapse, his knees buckling underneath him. Half to his surprise, Kelly knelt down beside him, taking off her backpack.
“Are you - okay, stupid question, never mind. Um. Do you know what they did with your clothes? I can’t see them.”
Spencer shook his head. “I think they said they were going to dump them.”
Kelly nodded. “I didn’t really believe it when they said what happened - I was talking to one of the cheerleaders, what was it, Stacey something? - before dinner, and I thought she was just joking. Anyway, I grabbed a couple of things just in case, but I had a really tough time sneaking out as it was.”
She unzipped her backpack and burrowed in it, producing an over-sized t-shirt and pair of much-patched jeans. “I couldn’t find shoes, I’m sorry.”
He tried and failed to force a smile. “I’ll manage. Um, thank you.”
“It’s all right. Do you, uh, want me to look away or something while you get changed?”
He swiped at his eyes before picking up the t-shirt and pulling it on. Bitterly, “It’s not like it makes any real difference now, is it?”
Kelly gave him a wry smile through the dark hair that had fallen across her face. “Maybe not. If it helps, I have five brothers - it’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”
She averted her eyes anyway as he tugged the jeans on: they were too long for him, really, but they just about fitted okay in the waist if he was careful. “Um, you being new, you should probably know... you’re not going to be very popular if they find out you did this.”
She shrugged equably. “I’m a girl, and I’ve got five brothers. The lads’ll leave me alone, and a couple of bitchy teenage girls don’t worry me much. Hey, you must’ve been out here ages - do you want something to eat? My mum did stew for dinner, and there’s plenty left over.”
Spencer shook his head mutely.
“Hey.” She reached out; he flinched away. “Come on. I won’t let them ask questions, and my place isn’t far away. You can phone your mum from there.”
“I don’t-” He shook his head again. “She’s - having a bad day.”
“Then come back to mine and my dad can drive you home from there?” Kelly suggested. “It’ll save you some of the walk, at least.”
“I thought you said you sneaked out?”
She shrugged, picking up her backpack. “Yeah, but they won’t shout at me in front of you. And they might be chuffed enough that I’ve got a friend here that they won’t shout at all, you never know.”
That, at least, finally got her a wan little flicker of a smile.
“Come on.” This time, when she reached out to tug lightly on one of his curls, Spencer didn’t flinch away. “Let’s go home.”
(A/N: Yes, she's meant to sound British. It's to tie into a fic which probably WON'T see the light of day ever where the team follow a serial killer to the UK, since I want to explore how they'd cope in a situation where they're not allowed guns. The CM team's trigger-happiness bugs me sometimes.)
With his hands still tied behind him he couldn’t see his watch - if he even still had it - but he knew he had to have been there for a couple hours when the small figure appeared at the far side of the football field, dark in the dying sunlight. He couldn’t see who it was, but they seemed to be looking for something - looking for him, he realised, as the figure promptly made for the goalposts. Torn between relief and further humiliation, humiliation promptly took the lead as the person came closer and he could see who it was: Kelly something-or-other, the new kid who’d spoken to him during math and who hadn’t been with the assembly who’d met him after school. But more to the point, she was a girl, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment all over again.
“Oh my God.” He couldn’t bring himself to lift his head up, but he heard her push her hair away from her face in a frantic gesture of confusion. “Oh, God. They weren’t making it up... It’s Spencer, right? Spencer Reid?”
A tiny gesture of his head did duty as a ‘yes’, and she ran her hands through her long hair again. “Okay, well, um. Let’s get you down from there first, yeah?”
The next time he looked up he couldn’t see her, but he could feel hot small hands struggling with the ties on his wrists as Kelly swore to herself under her breath. It occurred to him that she should probably have gone for the ties at his ankles first - just as the first ropes came free, and he half-fell, half-collapsed forwards to the sound of her concerned squeak as she grabbed his arm to keep him upright.
“I’m sorry!” Though he couldn’t see her, Kelly’s flailing was obvious. “I should’ve gone for your feet... Can you, um, can you hold on to the pole while I do the other knots?”
He shook his head as he tried. “It - it hurts too much.”
“Must be the blood being cut off.” She bit her lip. “Um. Think you can manage to balance? I’ll be as quick as I can, I promise.”
With a bit of help, he found that he could, and she set to work on the second ropes. These came free more easily - he’d thought at the time that they hadn’t tied them so well - and this time he really did collapse, his knees buckling underneath him. Half to his surprise, Kelly knelt down beside him, taking off her backpack.
“Are you - okay, stupid question, never mind. Um. Do you know what they did with your clothes? I can’t see them.”
Spencer shook his head. “I think they said they were going to dump them.”
Kelly nodded. “I didn’t really believe it when they said what happened - I was talking to one of the cheerleaders, what was it, Stacey something? - before dinner, and I thought she was just joking. Anyway, I grabbed a couple of things just in case, but I had a really tough time sneaking out as it was.”
She unzipped her backpack and burrowed in it, producing an over-sized t-shirt and pair of much-patched jeans. “I couldn’t find shoes, I’m sorry.”
He tried and failed to force a smile. “I’ll manage. Um, thank you.”
“It’s all right. Do you, uh, want me to look away or something while you get changed?”
He swiped at his eyes before picking up the t-shirt and pulling it on. Bitterly, “It’s not like it makes any real difference now, is it?”
Kelly gave him a wry smile through the dark hair that had fallen across her face. “Maybe not. If it helps, I have five brothers - it’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”
She averted her eyes anyway as he tugged the jeans on: they were too long for him, really, but they just about fitted okay in the waist if he was careful. “Um, you being new, you should probably know... you’re not going to be very popular if they find out you did this.”
She shrugged equably. “I’m a girl, and I’ve got five brothers. The lads’ll leave me alone, and a couple of bitchy teenage girls don’t worry me much. Hey, you must’ve been out here ages - do you want something to eat? My mum did stew for dinner, and there’s plenty left over.”
Spencer shook his head mutely.
“Hey.” She reached out; he flinched away. “Come on. I won’t let them ask questions, and my place isn’t far away. You can phone your mum from there.”
“I don’t-” He shook his head again. “She’s - having a bad day.”
“Then come back to mine and my dad can drive you home from there?” Kelly suggested. “It’ll save you some of the walk, at least.”
“I thought you said you sneaked out?”
She shrugged, picking up her backpack. “Yeah, but they won’t shout at me in front of you. And they might be chuffed enough that I’ve got a friend here that they won’t shout at all, you never know.”
That, at least, finally got her a wan little flicker of a smile.
“Come on.” This time, when she reached out to tug lightly on one of his curls, Spencer didn’t flinch away. “Let’s go home.”
(A/N: Yes, she's meant to sound British. It's to tie into a fic which probably WON'T see the light of day ever where the team follow a serial killer to the UK, since I want to explore how they'd cope in a situation where they're not allowed guns. The CM team's trigger-happiness bugs me sometimes.)