Fic: Far Too Human 5/?
Well! Here we are. Finally getting somewhere! Who else is excited? This part is for jadesfire2808 who met, very aptly I might add, my Fic Challenge of DOOM, Doom, doom!
Title: Far Too Human 5/?
Summary: Fall out from Revelations. What exactly happened to Spencer, and where does he go from there?
Spoilers: The Big Game, Revelations, LDSK, basically every episode.
AN: I was watching Stir of Echos. Thinking about Reid and this is what happened.
AN2: I'm starting this three months in. That means that the next part should be happening right after Revelations, sorry that's just the way it works. Suck it up.
AN3: Things might seem a bit disjointed. That's on purpose. Not exactly from Reid's perspective, but to try and give you a picture of what's happening to him.
AN4: Big big thanks to Marilea! Who has attempted to bludgeon into my head comma usage.
Special AN: For those of you confused to the time frame we are about three weeks from the time of Revelations.
Gideon wished that Reid's first case back could be something a little softer. No case the BAU pulled was ever easy, but child sodomy and murder was never easy and never pretty. Reid was a lot better than the last time he was on the plane, though. The bruises were almost completely faded and he only had a small air brace on his foot as a reminder of the trauma that he had endured. However Reid, was hell bent on showing everyone that he was at the top of his game. Gideon noticed though that Reid's eyes would flick to an empty spot on the plane for just a brief second before returning to the case files, but they always returned to that spot.
“Do you think he'll be okay?”
Gideon tore his eyes away from Reid and up to Hotch's grim countenance. “I think that we can only wait and see at this point.” Gideon turned back and caught sight of Reid glancing at that corner again. “Lots of seeing.”
0o0
Gideon and Prentiss went straight to the latest crime scene and the rest of the team went straight to the police headquarters and morgue. Reid stared down at what used to be Barbra Johnson. Reid could almost hear her talking - little snatches of nursery rhymes and giggles so real that he starts to look around before he realizes his mistake.
The sheriff of the town comes in. “Mrs. Johnson is here.”
Morgan and Reid exchange brief glances over the body and head out following the sheriff.
Mrs. Johnson was one of those fierce petite women that always seem so much bigger than they actually are.
“What are you doing to find my daughter's killer?”
“Mrs. Johnson, we're doing everything in our power to find him. We need your help; walk us through what happened.”
Mrs. Johnson fell solidly into a chair, breaking into quite tears. “It-it was a regular day. We had breakfast, went to the park, worked on her science project, watched some TV and she went to bed around 8:30. Sh-she begged to stay up just a few more minutes but I insisted.”
“Mrs. Johnson, did you notice any strangers or anyone showing undue attention to Barbra?”
“No,” she shakes her vehemently, “nothing. God, this is all my fault.” She slumps forward, defeated and sobbing.
Morgan is about to lean down and offer a little comfort to her when Reid sits cautiously next to her, his hand gentle and light on her shoulder. “Mrs. Johnson, you aren't to blame. Bo wouldn't want this for you.”
Mrs. Johnson freezes in mid-sob and turns, her eyes staring out from beneath her fringe of hair. “What did you say?”
What confidence Reid had fled at the look in Mrs. Johnson's eyes. He hesitantly stammers, “th-that it's not your fault?”
“No, you called her Bo. I'm the only one that calls her Bo. How could you know that?”
“I-I,” Reid's eyes wander the room looking for answers, a distraction, anything to put the right words in his mouth - but then there might not be right words. “Um… 67% of children go by a nick name rather than their given name.” Everyone's eyes were still on him, but the incredulous air about them dissipated a little bit with his stammering explanation.
Fortunately further explanations weren't necessary because Prentiss and Gideon showed up from the crime scene and wanted to conference right away.
0o0
“The unsub is a white male, age 25-40. He's intelligent but in a low-wage job. He feels under appreciated. He's extremely confident. He takes these children right from their home; this is very high risk. He drives an older car, sedan-”
“Cadillac.” Hotch turned and looked at Reid who seemed unaware that he had just blurted out what type of car the unsub drives. “Powder blue Cadillac. It was his mother's.”
One of the officer's snorts, “care to give us the plate numbers as well?”
Reid doesn't seem to be paying attention, his unfocused. “JX 4730.”
The room froze. Reid seemed to jerk out of whatever trance he was lost in and glanced around at the people frozen in their seats. Thinking quickly, Reid blurts out, “I must have seen the car on the way in and just now connected it to the killer.”
The team didn't seem to buy what Reid said but they quickly snapped out orders to find that car.
0o0
Hotch and Gideon were there standing around after capturing and arresting of Frankie Penter, the owner of the former Daisy Penter's Cadillac. They were in fact staring at said Cadillac - which had a flat tire and had clearly had it for at least a day - the dew was still pooled in a rubber fold. Gideon and Hotch exchanged a look, but neither said anything. Truthfully neither could think of a single thing to say. Both knew, however that the state of the car would not be making it into any written report. No one wanted their names associated with Reid’s claim of having seen the car on the way in.
0o0
Morgan just couldn't be bothered to invest a lot of thought into his gin hand. Even though Reid was apparently two states away he was still winning, and Morgan had every confidence that even if he was at the top of his game Reid would still be winning.
“Hey - Reid.”
“Hummm?” Reid shuffled his hand.
“That call, with the car, that was slick.”
Reid's eyes flicker up, but don't meet Morgan's. “I told you that I was just remembering that car from seeing it earlier.”
“So you said.” Morgan's tone doesn't imply much faith in the statement. “Doesn't mean it wasn't slick.” This is said with the utmost confidence and belief. Reid's lips curl behind his cards and Morgan can see the edges of his smile. Reid doesn't feel quite so far away.
Title: Far Too Human 5/?
Summary: Fall out from Revelations. What exactly happened to Spencer, and where does he go from there?
Spoilers: The Big Game, Revelations, LDSK, basically every episode.
AN: I was watching Stir of Echos. Thinking about Reid and this is what happened.
AN2: I'm starting this three months in. That means that the next part should be happening right after Revelations, sorry that's just the way it works. Suck it up.
AN3: Things might seem a bit disjointed. That's on purpose. Not exactly from Reid's perspective, but to try and give you a picture of what's happening to him.
AN4: Big big thanks to Marilea! Who has attempted to bludgeon into my head comma usage.
Special AN: For those of you confused to the time frame we are about three weeks from the time of Revelations.
Gideon wished that Reid's first case back could be something a little softer. No case the BAU pulled was ever easy, but child sodomy and murder was never easy and never pretty. Reid was a lot better than the last time he was on the plane, though. The bruises were almost completely faded and he only had a small air brace on his foot as a reminder of the trauma that he had endured. However Reid, was hell bent on showing everyone that he was at the top of his game. Gideon noticed though that Reid's eyes would flick to an empty spot on the plane for just a brief second before returning to the case files, but they always returned to that spot.
“Do you think he'll be okay?”
Gideon tore his eyes away from Reid and up to Hotch's grim countenance. “I think that we can only wait and see at this point.” Gideon turned back and caught sight of Reid glancing at that corner again. “Lots of seeing.”
0o0
Gideon and Prentiss went straight to the latest crime scene and the rest of the team went straight to the police headquarters and morgue. Reid stared down at what used to be Barbra Johnson. Reid could almost hear her talking - little snatches of nursery rhymes and giggles so real that he starts to look around before he realizes his mistake.
The sheriff of the town comes in. “Mrs. Johnson is here.”
Morgan and Reid exchange brief glances over the body and head out following the sheriff.
Mrs. Johnson was one of those fierce petite women that always seem so much bigger than they actually are.
“What are you doing to find my daughter's killer?”
“Mrs. Johnson, we're doing everything in our power to find him. We need your help; walk us through what happened.”
Mrs. Johnson fell solidly into a chair, breaking into quite tears. “It-it was a regular day. We had breakfast, went to the park, worked on her science project, watched some TV and she went to bed around 8:30. Sh-she begged to stay up just a few more minutes but I insisted.”
“Mrs. Johnson, did you notice any strangers or anyone showing undue attention to Barbra?”
“No,” she shakes her vehemently, “nothing. God, this is all my fault.” She slumps forward, defeated and sobbing.
Morgan is about to lean down and offer a little comfort to her when Reid sits cautiously next to her, his hand gentle and light on her shoulder. “Mrs. Johnson, you aren't to blame. Bo wouldn't want this for you.”
Mrs. Johnson freezes in mid-sob and turns, her eyes staring out from beneath her fringe of hair. “What did you say?”
What confidence Reid had fled at the look in Mrs. Johnson's eyes. He hesitantly stammers, “th-that it's not your fault?”
“No, you called her Bo. I'm the only one that calls her Bo. How could you know that?”
“I-I,” Reid's eyes wander the room looking for answers, a distraction, anything to put the right words in his mouth - but then there might not be right words. “Um… 67% of children go by a nick name rather than their given name.” Everyone's eyes were still on him, but the incredulous air about them dissipated a little bit with his stammering explanation.
Fortunately further explanations weren't necessary because Prentiss and Gideon showed up from the crime scene and wanted to conference right away.
0o0
“The unsub is a white male, age 25-40. He's intelligent but in a low-wage job. He feels under appreciated. He's extremely confident. He takes these children right from their home; this is very high risk. He drives an older car, sedan-”
“Cadillac.” Hotch turned and looked at Reid who seemed unaware that he had just blurted out what type of car the unsub drives. “Powder blue Cadillac. It was his mother's.”
One of the officer's snorts, “care to give us the plate numbers as well?”
Reid doesn't seem to be paying attention, his unfocused. “JX 4730.”
The room froze. Reid seemed to jerk out of whatever trance he was lost in and glanced around at the people frozen in their seats. Thinking quickly, Reid blurts out, “I must have seen the car on the way in and just now connected it to the killer.”
The team didn't seem to buy what Reid said but they quickly snapped out orders to find that car.
0o0
Hotch and Gideon were there standing around after capturing and arresting of Frankie Penter, the owner of the former Daisy Penter's Cadillac. They were in fact staring at said Cadillac - which had a flat tire and had clearly had it for at least a day - the dew was still pooled in a rubber fold. Gideon and Hotch exchanged a look, but neither said anything. Truthfully neither could think of a single thing to say. Both knew, however that the state of the car would not be making it into any written report. No one wanted their names associated with Reid’s claim of having seen the car on the way in.
0o0
Morgan just couldn't be bothered to invest a lot of thought into his gin hand. Even though Reid was apparently two states away he was still winning, and Morgan had every confidence that even if he was at the top of his game Reid would still be winning.
“Hey - Reid.”
“Hummm?” Reid shuffled his hand.
“That call, with the car, that was slick.”
Reid's eyes flicker up, but don't meet Morgan's. “I told you that I was just remembering that car from seeing it earlier.”
“So you said.” Morgan's tone doesn't imply much faith in the statement. “Doesn't mean it wasn't slick.” This is said with the utmost confidence and belief. Reid's lips curl behind his cards and Morgan can see the edges of his smile. Reid doesn't feel quite so far away.