#thank u new management...far from perfect yes but...USABLE AGAIN.

[painted-bees]

I keep saying this every so often, but I am so glad tumblr isn't completely unusable anymore ; v; the format for posting and sharing stuff is genuinely my favorite, I have the most fun here.

[lucywritesreid]

With Heaven Above You - Part 4

Summary: The team take a closer look at Reid’s findings to see if they can figure out where he might have been taken. Y/N feels tremendous guilt for putting him in this position, but finding something peculiar gives them their first clue…

Tags: @spacedikut @101donuts @rexorangecouny @l0ve-0f-my-life @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @awkwardnesshabitat @liaabsurd @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Notes: Thank you so much again! Can’t believe all the nice comments I’ve had so far. Makes my heart swell 😊 

Between the team the photograph must’ve been analysed a few thousand times. Each member kept requesting to look at it, picking it up and studying it under various light sources across the BAU. You had only looked at it the once. That was enough. The truth was that they weren’t going to find what they were looking for from the photo. It was just you taking off your microphone after the press conference. So it was highly likely that the unsub had been there, watching. JJ was making multiple phone calls to try and find the details of everyone who had signed up to be there. The truth was more harrowing. You knew that a mere 30 seconds after that picture was taken, Spencer had come over and given you a hug. A moment that you believed at the time to be private. But he had seen it. He had seen your Spencer. And he had taken him.

It was well into the night before any of you started to leave. Everyone had been running around, making phone calls, printing things off, going through case files. But you had just been sat at Spencer’s desk, curled up in his chair. You desperately were trying to think about what you could do. It was Emily who startled you out of your dream state.

“Hey, y/n, come crash with me tonight, okay? You need to try and get some sleep.”

You wanted to protest but it was no use. “Yeah, sure thing Em. Can we stop over at mine and grab a couple of things first?”

She looked a little hesitant at first. “Um, sure. But only quickly.”

From that moment on you acted without thought. It was as if a robot had taken over your body, moving your legs, walking you to the car. You couldn’t think about anything as you did it.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get your things for you?” Emily’s voice made you jump. You hadn’t registered the entire car ride, and suddenly you were outside your apartment.

“No, but maybe come with me?” She nodded at the suggestion. You knew as soon as you walked in you were going to be wrapped up in all things him, and you weren’t sure if you could handle all the emotion.

Emily took your key from you and unlocked the door. She switched on the hall light and stepped into the apartment first, cautiously. You realised this wasn’t the first time Emily had walked into a home feeling unsettled, apprehensive. She knew just what it was like to come home and know that it wasn’t the way you left it. “I’m going to grab some of Reid’s case files to have a look at. You get what you need, take your time.”

“Thank you, Emily,” you tried to smile but your face couldn’t do it. You were so lucky to have such a wonderful friend, and one day you’d be able to show her just how much it meant to you. But not today.

You walked around uncertain, not sure what to look for. The sensible part of you was saying go pack a bag, get your things, and leave. You lingered in the living room for a few minutes, taking in all the things that reminded you of him. You saw the answering machine was flashing red. Was it really a good idea to check the message? It was probably something mundane, a cold caller. But there was a small possibility that it was him. Maybe an explanation? Your finger edged tentatively over the button. It took a few seconds before you pressed down and waited to hear what was coming next.

You’ve reached the home of Agent Y/F/N and Dr Spencer Reid, an all too familiar voice said, we can’t come to the phone right now because we’re probably fighting crime or playing chess. Leave a message after the beep!

What followed next was not what you expected. It was an almost silent message, but you could just about make out someone breathing. Some long, drawn out breathing. It lasted for about ten seconds and then the message cut out. Before you could call out a voice made you jump.

“When was that left?” Emily asked, suddenly behind you.

You squinted at the display on the machine. “This afternoon.”

“I’m going to forward this over to Garcia and see what she can get from it, you go and get the rest of your things.”

You nodded and walked into the bathroom. It was ridiculous to say that you could recognise Spencer’s breathing, but you were certain that wasn’t him on the tape. Which made it all the more unsettling as to who it actually was. Feeling tightness in your chest, you rushed over to the sink and turned on the cool water. You cupped your hands under the stream and splashed your face a few times, until the tight feeling went away. Get it together, y/n. You must do this. You need to focus.

After a few deep breaths you turned off the tap. You reached over to grab a towel from the radiator to dry your face when you saw a book lying on the bathroom floor. You crouched down to pick it up and admired it in your hands. The pages were all frayed and torn. It had been laid next to the radiator to dry after a night a few weeks ago.

“Hey! Y/N be careful, this is a first edition. I can’t take it back to the library covered in soap!”

“Listen Reid, you’re the one who decided to read during bath night. I can’t be liable for the damage that incurs.”

“Okay, fair point. But I thought you liked it when I read to you in Latin while you washed your hair? Weren’t you the one that said you wanted to learn a new language?”

“Yes Spence, a new language. A usable one. One that people still speak!”

“Statistically there are millions of people who can still read Latin. While it appears to be a dead language there is actually a large percentage of scholars and academics who use Latin in a variety of contexts… You always said you were interested in philosophy…”

“Yeah yeah, save me the lecture Dr Reid. You have until the bubbles run out to keep reading or else this book is going straight in the water…”

You were jolted out of your daydream by a knock on the door. “Y/N?” A concerned voice spoke up. “Are you okay in there?”

You quickly set the book back down and hurriedly grabbed your toothbrush and a hair tie. “Yeah Em, I’m coming now.” You made your way into the bedroom and grabbed a duffle bag. There was no thought to what you were packing, just random items that hopefully would make an outfit for the next day. You glanced over at Spencer’s pillow, his perfectly folded pyjamas, and decided to pack those as well.

It was truly painful to leave, but you knew it was for the best. By the time you made it to Emily’s it felt like it was almost morning. She poured you a large glass of wine and excused herself to go to bed, promising first that if you needed anything during the night to give her a call. You thanked her again and settled down on her sofa, wearing the buttoned-up pyjamas you’d taken from Spencer’s pillow. The glass of wine went down far too quickly, and you refilled it twice. Sleep was an impossibility at this point. You could already see morning light peaking through the gap in the curtains. That meant it wasn’t too long before you could go back to work and try and figure out what was next.

The truth was you already knew what you had to do. You were going to make another press conference, permission granted or not, and try and make yourself as appealing as possible. You were going to try and convince the career killer that the story would be far better if he took you as well as Reid. Imagine the headlines – two dead FBI agents, who were also in love! Caught in the crosshairs of the career killer! The best and most famous serial killer in the whole world! The papers would go wild for it. You knew deep down that the killer would, too. But it wasn’t going to play out that way. You were going to trade yourself for Spencer. Convince the killer it was you he really wanted. Tell him you’d give him whatever he wanted, help him put on a show. You’d let him kill you live on TV. You knew that you would do anything to get Spencer back.

You rehearsed your little inner monologue a few times. When you felt like you’d perfected it, you decided to try and think about something else for a few minutes. You remembered you’d taken the crossword puzzle book from Spencer’s desk. That would make a good distraction if he hadn’t finished them all already. You fumbled through the contents of your bag until you found it, along with a mechanical pencil. One of the corners had been turned over so you flicked the book open to that page.

Spencer had already started the crossword but hadn’t completed it. That confused you a little. It was very unlike him to leave a puzzle unfinished. You started to scan your eyes over the clues he had already filled in.

A six letter word for a season of the year synonymous with fall. Autumn. Easy. You glanced over to where Spencer had filled in the word. A-U-T-U-N-N. How had he managed to make that mistake? In all the years you knew him you hadn’t once seen a spelling error. You shrugged.

Next clue: Lion’s cry, four letters. Roar. Same again, you looked at where he’d filled it in. R-O-O-R. This couldn’t be a coincidence. You circled the incorrect letter, and the ‘n’ in autumn, and went back to the next clue.

A seven letter word for a pilot. Aviator. Spencer had filled in A-V-I-A-T-U-R. You circled the U.

Clearly reasoned, seven letters. Logical. Same spelling mistakes. L-O-J-I-C-A-L. That added a J.

Card game, five letters. Poker. P-O-K-A-R. A.

Woollen items, eight letters. Knitwear. K-N-T-T-W-E-A-R. T.

Organ of sight, 3 letters. Eye. E-Y-I. You circled and noted the I.

Desire to travel, ten letters. You had to look across at what Spencer had already written for this one. Wanderlust. But he’d spelt it W-A-N-D-E-L-R-U-S-T. Confused, you circled and noted the l and the R as they were both wrong.

He had only filled in one more clue. Calm-natured. Placid. But instead of a C, he’d written S. That left you with ten letters. You scrawled them down at the bottom of the page. N, O, U, J, A, T, I, L, R, S

N O U J A T I L R S.

What on Earth did that mean? You looked at it a few times through slightly blurry wine eyes. Why had he done this? You couldn’t quite understand what was going on. But there was something in you, a hunch, that he’d left this for you on purpose. Who else would piffle through his desk and take out a crossword book? There had to be some meaning to it. After exhausting yourself with possibilities, the tiredness took over, and you eventually fell asleep. You dreamt of those ten letters swirling around your head.

 End of part 4.