(no subject)
The current mood in the Compound (And quite likely on the island as a whole) is that of barely controlled panic. Yesterday morning, an inordinately large number of residents disappeared, blinked out of existence as easily as they'd arrived, many of them right in front of loved ones. It's a situation bad enough on its own, but there's precedent lending an air of crazed hopefulness to those left behind. This may have happened before.
Selfish though it may be, Reid can't help but be relieved that he's not immediately affected by the phenomenon. Jim, Hotch and Morgan are all still very much where they should be, if worried in their own right, and despite the fact that he suspects Jim and Morgan might play heroes and go tromping through the jungle to try and find the missing, Reid is secure enough to be grateful. He can't fathom this place without them, can't fathom himself in that situation.
Presently he's carefully tacking a note to the Compound's bulletin board, the barely-legible scrawl an odd counterpoint to the meticulous way it's being hung. The psych office is always open to new patients of all sorts, it reminds the people who can make out his handwriting. Since he wouldn't be allowed to go tromping through the jungle even if he wanted to, he'll do this, whatever little difference it makes.
Selfish though it may be, Reid can't help but be relieved that he's not immediately affected by the phenomenon. Jim, Hotch and Morgan are all still very much where they should be, if worried in their own right, and despite the fact that he suspects Jim and Morgan might play heroes and go tromping through the jungle to try and find the missing, Reid is secure enough to be grateful. He can't fathom this place without them, can't fathom himself in that situation.
Presently he's carefully tacking a note to the Compound's bulletin board, the barely-legible scrawl an odd counterpoint to the meticulous way it's being hung. The psych office is always open to new patients of all sorts, it reminds the people who can make out his handwriting. Since he wouldn't be allowed to go tromping through the jungle even if he wanted to, he'll do this, whatever little difference it makes.