The Lies of Life

 

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Chapter 6

 

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“Agent Hotchner!”

 

Hotch turned and looked at a man running up to him, grinning. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Officer Brent.”  The man said, grinning.  “Came in from Salt Lake City.”

 

“…  It’s nice to meet you.  What can I do for you?”

 

“I’ve brought a few of my canine units, sir.”  The man said, and looked back at a car.  Three men and a woman stood there.  One had a German Shepherd by his side.  Another a Belgian Malinois.  Another had a Bloodhound.  The last had a Golden Retriever.  Hotch’s heart leapt.

 

“…  Excellent.”  He breathed.

 

“Come meet them.”  Brent said, and Hotch followed him over to the group.  “This is Officer Hedrick and his partner, Sterling.”  He said, and Hotch shook hands with the handler of the German Shepherd.  “Officer Miranda and his partner Morpheus.”  The handler of the Malinois nodded to Hotch, while holding tightly to the leash of his over excited dog, who was over stimulated by all the people, and the presence of the other dogs.  “Both are fully trained police K9 Units.”  Brent continued.  “Officer Ramos and Copper here are our best tracking team.”  Hotch nodded and shook hands with the handler of the bloodhound.  “And this is Miss Randall and her dog, Topaz.  They’re volunteers, Topaz is a search and rescue dog.”  Hotch blinked as the Golden Retriever wagged her tail and licked his hand.

 

“I appreciate you all coming out.”  He said, looking at the canine handlers.  “I take it you will need a scent for them to follow?”

 

They all confirmed this.  Hotch told them to hold on and ran into the house.  A moment later, he returned.  “Here.”  He offered them a pair of pajama pants that had been in the corner of Alex’s bedroom.  The dogs began to sniff it over, fully.  “We can also get you something from the horse he rode out of here on.”  Hotch offered.

 

“That might be good.”  Officer Miranda said.  Baron’s saddle blanket was brought.  The dogs sniffed this with interest as well.

 

“Take them out to the road.”  Hotch said.  The dogs were loaded up in the car and they drove out to the road.  Once there, the handlers climbed out of the car and the dogs scampered around, sniffing.  Then, the Malinois barked sharply and tugged at his leash.

 

“Sir!  He’s got it!  Let him go?”  Officer Miranda asked, shouting over the dogs who were all barking excitedly now that they had the scent, the Bloodhound’s baying laying a strong undertone like a bass guitar, punctuated by the sharp, staccato yaps of the Malinois.  The German Shepherd had full, deep barks that contrasted with the higher octave yelps from the Retriever. 

 

At a nod from Hotch, the handlers released the dogs.  The animals darted off down the road, pack mentality overtaking as they ran together, following the scent.  The cars raced after them.  The dogs moved quickly, the Malinois still barking in excitement.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

His body was numb…  he couldn’t feel the pain anymore…  the sore stiffness of his limbs…  He was so thirsty…  so tired…

 

But he remembered so much more now… 

 

He remembered him.  He remembered Gideon.  He owed his career to that man.  He was Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.  Damn.  His full title sure was a mouthful… 

 

Reid giggled to himself in mild exhausted hysteria.  His stomach was cramping.  There was acidic bile in his throat.  He swallowed it.  He thought of his kittens, Morgan and Garcia.  He was amused.  He would have to rename them.  He remembered their namesakes.  Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia.  Funny.  He had named the girl kitten Morgan and the boy Garcia.  Oh, how he would tease Morgan about that later.  He hoped…  He heard the horse below him snort and stomp again… 

 

He was tired…  so tired…  He closed his eyes.

 

His last thought was one of frustration… why couldn’t he find more memories of his lover?!

 

Who was Aaron?!

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The handlers called their dogs to order when they reached the fence that the horses had leapt over.  Officers and FBI Agents all clamored over the fence, and began to head in the direction that the canines were leading them.  It was late afternoon, and squirrels darted out of their paths…  Chipmunks chattered in the trees, and nesting birds warbled to one another.  But it was a cold day…  They walked for almost two and a half hours.  Then, the dogs got excited again.

 

“Something’s moving up there…”  Morgan hissed, and pulled his gun.  They heard thumps…  a snort.  And then, the challenging scream of an enraged stallion.  They moved through the trees, and there he was.  Flint reared back, lashing out at the men and dogs with his hooves, eyes rolling in his head, ears flat against his skull.  He bared his teeth as he pranced around before a hunters’ hut in a tree.

 

“Get him away from there!”  Hotch called, heart pounding.  Morgan had lunged for the ladder, but Flint pivoted and kicked out with his powerful hindquarters.  Morgan yelped, then ducked and rolled away, narrowly missing having his skull crushed.  The horse was maddened.  He wouldn’t let anyone near…

 

The dogs were going ballistic, only fueling the stallion.  The handlers quickly took their dogs away from the scene.  Now they just had to figure out what to do with the horse… 

 

“I’m calling in for a tranquilizer.”  The sheriff told Hotch.

 

“We can’t wait for that!”  Hotch cried no longer thinking straight, so great was his desperation to get to his young agent.  “Shoot the thing!”

 

“And deal with accusations of animal cruelty?”  The sheriff snorted.  “It will be here soon.”  He assured Hotch.  And forty five minutes later, they heard the screaming of an engine.  A moment later, a man on a four wheeler arrived, a rifle strapped to his back.  He nodded to the sheriff and looked at the horse.

 

“…  I’ll be damned.”  He sighed.  “Flint.”

 

“You know this horse?”  Hotch asked.

 

“Oh yeah.  He doesn’t like people.  Aside from Jonathan Wilkes.  He killed Alexander Wilkes, you know.”

 

“We know.”  Hotch growled.  “Just get him away from that ladder.”

 

“I’ll put him down for a nap.”  The gunman said, and raised the rifle.  A shot rang out, and the horse bucked and neighed, turning and biting at the dart in his shoulder.  A few minutes later, his anxious stamping grew slow and sluggish.  Then, he slowly sunk to the ground and the man knelt, stroking the horse’s neck.  “I’ll take him from here.  I’ve handled him before…”

 

Hotch didn’t wait any longer.  He ran around the horse and pulled himself up the ladder and into the little hut.  And there lay Reid, bound and gagged, pale, eyes closed…

“Reid…”  He gasped, reaching out and pressing his fingers to the boy’s throat.  A gentle flutter under his fingers brought a relieved sigh from the man’s lips.   “Reid…  come on…  wake up…”  He removed the gag as Morgan joined him, slicing through the ropes and shoving them off of the young man’s body.  Reid moaned, and they both looked up at his face.

 

Reid cracked his eyes open and stared at them for a moment, before they fell closed again.  Whenever they moved his limbs, he winced in pain.

 

“Let’s get him out of here…”  Hotch gasped, and climbed down the ladder.  When Morgan appeared at the top with Reid in his arms, cheers went up among the searchers.  Morgan lowered Reid down, his hands under the boy’s arms, and Rossi and Hotch received him and lay him down on the red plastic stretcher that had been brought along.  They wrapped him tightly in a blanket and strapped him down.  Then Rossi, Morgan, Hotch and the sheriff picked it up and began to make the long trek back.  By the time they reached the ambulance, it was freezing, and sleet fell.  The sheriff had put his hat over Reid’s face to spare the boy the icy drops.

 

The paramedics quickly took charge, getting an IV drip started to deal with Reid’s dehydration, and getting his body temperature up.  On the way to the hospital, Reid opened his eyes a couple of times.  Each time, they looked around at the faces around him, and eventually would find Hotch.  Reid would stare at him for a bit before letting his eyes fall closed again.  When they were pulling into the drive, Reid cracked his eyes open and just looked at his superior.  Hotch leaned closer, reaching a hand up and laying it on Reid’s face.  Reid blinked, slowly, then gave him a small smile.

 

“…  I know you…”  He breathed, softly, before closing his eyes again.  Then the vehicle stopped and Reid was taken away from Hotch.  The man watched Reid go, a small smile on his own face.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

A brunette woman was staring at him with a strange look on her face.  She reached out and poked his cheek.  “…  He’s so life like.”  She breathed, and the people around them laughed. 

 

His mind spun.  A strange man looked at one of the FBI Agents…  the elder man with a beard.  “Where did you find this kid?”

 

“He was left in a basket on the steps of the FBI.”  The man murmured under his breath.

 

Another flash…  a pop as a black film canister went shooting across an office, landing at the feet of the team leader.  He picked it up and held it up, leveling a look on the young man.  “Physics magic?”

 

“…  Yes sir?”  Reid admitted, weakly.

 

“Reid, we talked about this.”  The man said, setting the canister back down on the desk.

 

“Sorry, sir.”

 

“…  You’re really starting to get some distance on those things.”  And he turned and walked away.

 

The world spun again…  He was staggering through the same office, his head in a hot, rubber mask, rubber hands on his own.  He crept up behind the man before him, growling and groaning.

 

“Raaawrrr…  I’m going to EAT you!”  The man turned, then jumped back.

 

“Whah!?  REID!”  He howled, and the woman at the other desk grinned and laughed.

 

…

 

What looked like a woman in a pink robe with long brown hair sat on a sofa, smoking a cigarette.  “And I think the better question would be, what are YOU looking for, Dr. Reid?”  She asked, looking into the shadows.  He stepped forward.

 

“I think you know what I’m looking for.”  He told her. 

 

“I wanna hear you say it.”

 

“I am looking for Adam.”

 

…

 

Reid stared out the glass door holding his phone to his ear, staring across a rose garden at the three men who were staring back at him, two looking very worried.  “Hotch, I really messed up this time.”  He gasped.  His throat was dry, and he was developing a fever.

 

…

 

“Boys have a way of sorting these things out for themselves.”  The older man said, shaking his head.  Reid felt anger flare up in him.

 

“Yeah, they sure do.”  He laughed, sarcastically.  “Right now, Owen is out there sorting it out with an assault rifle.”  He threw the file down on the floor and stalked out of the room.

 

…

 

He was slowly moving down a hall, hands in the air.

 

“Your mother…  she explained everything to me!”  A raspy voice called.

 

“My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic who would forget to eat if she wasn’t kept properly medicated and supervised!”

 

…

 

“Special Agent Reid—“

 

“Doctor Reid!”  Gideon interrupted.

 

“…  Doctor Reid…  our expert on, well…  everything…  And after busting my butt in this office for two years, I hope you remember me.”

 

…

 

He jumped as a golden retriever barked at him.  A man grabbed her collar and pulled her back.

 

“Sandy, no no no no no!  I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s okay.”  Hoch said to the man pulling the dog back.  “It’s what we call the Reid affect…  happens with children too!  I’m Agent Hotchner, this is Special Agent Dr. Reid.”

 

…

 

The Path to the end

Begins at his start

To find her, first calm

Her long broken heart

She sits in a window

With secrets from her Knight

Is it adventure that keeps

Him out of her sight.

 

…

 

“You should see what comes up when you enter the word ‘death’ into a search engine!”

 

“…  Reid, man, no wonder you can’t get a date!”

 

…

 

“Your mom read you Valentines poems?  Hello Therapy?”

 

…

 

“Are you hacking into the government’s HMO database?  Is that legal?”

 

“Of course not.  We’ll both go to prison and you’ll be someone’s bitch.”

 

“…  Really?”

 

…

 

A gorgeous blonde made a face as she drank some coffee.  She set the cup down.  “Uhg…”  Then she snatched his soda bottle out of his hand.  “You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?”  She asked, and took a drink without waiting for an answer.  He shook his head and muttered “No” anyway, eyes darting around nervously.  She then handed the bottle back and shed her robe.  He took a drink and watched.  Underneath, she was wearing a very skimpy bikini.  She walked away, and he stared after, unable to avoid eyeing that luscious body up and down.  Then he turned away and placed the bottle to his lips, tipping it back and feeling the sweet liquid trickle onto his tongue, the carbonation tingling.  Then, a teasing voice behind him.

 

“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?”  Morgan chuckled, and he righted his head and the bottle, just barely able to keep from spitting the soda out.  He swallowed, quickly, and turned, eyes wide and face red.

 

“Shut up!”  He blurted, embarrassed, and hurried off, quickly checking his movement, turning, and scuttling off the RIGHT direction, Morgan’s voice following.

 

“Go get ‘em, lover!”

 

…

 

“He who seeks the Queen of all Knowledge, speak and be recognized.”

 

“Garcia, we’re sending you some cigarettes.”

 

“Eugh…  Eh, a flesh eating virus will be faster and far less painful…”

 

“We need some butts rushed to the lab for DNA analysis.”

 

“Oh, Reid…  I love it when you say ‘butts’…”  Reid raised an eyebrow.  “Send away, sugar.  Bang bang for now!”  Still weirded out, Reid put his phone away.

 

…

 

“Your team members.  Choose one to die.”

 

“…  No.”

 

Tobias pulled the trigger.

 

…

 

Reid gasped and jerked awake.  He stared around at the white hospital room.  There was a man at the foot of his bed, staring at him.  He slowly smiled.

 

“Well now…  look who’s back!”  He said, hanging the clipboard on the end of the bed and walking closer.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“…  Cold.”  Reid breathed.  “Thirsty.”  The man nodded.  He walked into the bathroom and returned a moment later with a cup of water, gently assisting Reid in drinking it.

 

“I’ll have another blanket sent in.  Do you remember who you are?”

 

“Bits and pieces.  The Agents.  Are they here?”

 

“They’re waiting right outside.”

 

“…  I want to see them.”

 

“I’ll send them in.”  The doctor said, nodding to Reid and leaving the room.  A moment later, the door opened and five people walked in.  They were all silent, watching Reid with uncertain looks.  Reid offered them a shy smile.  Most of them returned it.

 

“…  You’re Hotch.”  Reid said, softly, looking at the dark eyed man in front.

 

“…  You remember me?”

 

“…  I remember your name.  I remember your face.  I have a few…  flashes.”  He sighed.  “I’m not…  Alexander Wilkes, am I?”

 

“…  No.  You’re not.”  Hotch said, walking over.

 

“You know me.”

 

“We do.”  Hotch confirmed, nodding.  Slowly, Reid moved himself to sit up.

 

“…  Tell me.”  Reid pleaded, softly.  “Who am I?”  Hotch blinked at him, then smiled and handed him what looked like a wallet.  Reid blinked and took it, flipping it open.  He stared at the big bold letters; F B I.  He stared at his badge and credentials.

 

“…  I knew it.”  He breathed, slowly smiling.  “I knew that the memories were real.”  He looked back up at Hotch.  Then he looked at the others.  “And you’re Morgan.”

 

“I am.”  Morgan said, smiling.

 

“…  Where’s Garcia?”

 

“Back home.  At Quantico.”  Morgan said.  Reid frowned slightly, and silently repeated the word.  Quantico.

 

“…  Where is Gideon?”  He asked.

 

“…  Gideon left.  A long time ago.”  Hotch said, frowning.  “Don’t you remember?  You went to the cabin, looking for him.  He left you a letter.”

 

Reid blinked, then frowned and stared down at the sheets on his bed.  Then, his eyes glazed over.

 

“…  Spencer…”  He murmured.  “I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me.  You must be frightened.  I apologize for that.  I never meant to cause you any pain.  And I also never envisioned writing this letter.  I’ve searched for a satisfactory explanation for what I’m doing.  All I’ve come up with is a profiler needs to have solid footing.  And I don’t think I do anymore. 

 

The team stared in silence as Reid seemed to go into a trance and recite by heart the letter that they all knew that Gideon had left for him…  the one that none of them had ever read. 

 

“The world confuses me.  The cruelty.  Indifference.  Tragedy.  When my dear friend Sarah was murdered, it tore a hole in me.  And I truly believed the way to handle the pain was to get back to our work as quickly as possible.  Get on to help someone else.  I thought I could handle Sarah’s murder.  Work through it.  And the very first case we had after was on a college campus. 

 

“You see, I met Sarah at college.  On a campus just like that one thirty one years ago.  Campuses are supposed to be places of life and excitement.  They’re supposed to be about the future; finding out who you are, who you’re going to be.  It’s supposed to be about dreams, not nightmares.  About hope.  I really don’t understand the world anymore.

 

“All homicide scenes are tragic.  But when the victim is someone young, their life ripped away before they’ve even had a chance to live, it’s devastating.  In this line of work, I was afraid that I would lose the ability to trust.  But I’ve realized that I can’t really look at anyone without seeing their death.  And as bad as losing faith in humanity is, losing your faith in happy endings is much worse.

 

“How many victims have we seen?  How many crime scenes?  Hundreds?  Thousands?  Pictures of families.  Victims.  Both alive and dead.  I was always happy to stay objective.  To stay at arms’ length.  And now, all I see is Sarah.

 

“Nathan Tubbs was easy.  But there was a time in my career when I would have asked the question I should have asked;  Was he too easy?  The biggest trap for a profiler to fall into is pride, forgetting that for all of your skills, profiling is just a tool.

 

“It was like you could physically feel the mood change on the campus.  Kids.  They’re so resilient.  They trust and believe in a way I can remember but can’t reach anymore.  Like  a very old picture.  You remember the circumstances, but the feelings, the emotions; they’re just out of your grasp.  They believed in us.  Believed in me.  The way Sarah believed in me.  And, as with Sarah, I feel that I’d led them right to the slaughter.  What was I even doing there?  How many times have I told you that a profiler cannot do the job if the mind is unfocused?  If anything is going on in your personal life that would cloud your judgment?  My mind has never been more unfocused than it was on that campus.

 

“Did I let a lion loose amongst babies?  Was my judgment clouded by a need to make someone pay for Sarah’s death?  Two more dead…  was it a price that needed to be paid?  Is death ever worth it?  Was the world always this gray?  Is it only in the movies that it’s black and white?  Or is that just an illusion?  I used to know.  I used to understand my place.  My direction.  Where I was headed.  Profiling requires belief.  Belief in the profile.  Belief in yourself.  After Sarah, I no longer trust myself at home.  After Tubbs I no longer trust myself in the field.  And without that I have nothing.

 

“And that was the last domino.  The death of that girl.  Hotch being suspended over something that was my fault.  I said at the beginning of this letter that I knew it would be you to come up here.  I’m so sorry the explanation couldn’t be better, Spencer.  And I am so sorry that it doesn’t make any more sense.  But I’ve already told you.  I just don’t understand any of it anymore.  I’m sorry.  I guess I’m just looking for it again.  For the belief I had back in college.  The belief I had when I first met Sarah and it all seemed so right.  The belief in happy endings.

 

The team stared in silence at Reid, sitting there in the hospital bed.  His eyes were still glazed, staring off into space.  But tears were rolling down his thin cheeks, and he looked so…  alone.  Abandoned.  After a moment, his eyes slid closed, forcing another wave of tears down his face.  Then he opened his eyes again and looked at the others.  They stared back silently.  That was the first time any of them had ever heard the words that Jason Gideon had left Reid.  And now…  they seemed so inadequate. 

 

“Reid?”  Morgan called, carefully.  Reid looked at him.  “Are you alright?”

 

“…  I will be.”  Reid said, softly.  “It’s hard.  Remembering.  Not everything is…  good.”

 

“We know that, kid.”  Morgan said, walking over to Reid’s bedside and taking his hand.  “Believe me.  We know about the memories you need to get back.  And we know that a lot of them are bad.  And all YOU need to know is that we’re here for you.  And you can come to any of us, any time.”

 

“…  Thanks.”  Reid said, smiling at him.  Then he slowly tilted his head to the side, contemplating Morgan’s face.  Then, his eyes unfocused again.  A moment later, they slid closed and his hand tightened around Morgan’s and his breathing picked up.  Morgan frowned.

 

“Reid?  Reid?!”  He moved closer as Reid slumped back into the pillows.  The rest of the team converged on their youngest member, worried.  They called his name, gently.  Finally, he jerked and opened his eyes, blinking and looking around.

 

“Are you okay?!”  Rossi demanded.

 

“Huh?  Uh, yeah…  I…  I just…  I was remembering.”  Reid said.  “When something triggers a memory, that memory triggers another, and another and it just comes as a flood…  It happened all day yesterday.  When I was tied up.”  He sighed.  “Morgan…  Derek Morgan.  That’s you.”

 

“Yup.”

 

“…  Garcia…  Garcia…”  Reid mused.

 

“…  Penelope.”  Morgan said.

 

“…  Penelope Garcia.”  Reid recited, faithfully.  “…  Jason Gideon.”  Then he turned and looked up.  “…  SSA Rossi.  Rossi…  David!  David Rossi.”

 

“that’s right, kid.”  Rossi said, grinning.  Reid looked at the blonde.  Then, he grinned.

 

“JJ!”

 

“Oh, Spence!”  She cried, and leaned over, kissing his cheek and hugging him.  “I’m so glad you’re okay…”  Reid grinned at her, then looked at Prentiss and cocked his head again.

 

“…  Not Elle…”

                                                     

“Nope.”  She said with a smile.

 

“…  Emily.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“…  Emily Prentiss.”  Reid said, and his eyes unfocused again.  This time, the team waited.  In a few minutes, Reid came back to them.  “…  I’m sorry!”  He gasped, and Emily blinked.

 

“…  For what?”

 

“…  Benjamin Cyrus.”

 

“What?  No…  Oh no, Reid…”  She gasped, taking both of his hands in hers.  “Reid, you promised me that you wouldn’t do this.  It was MY choice.  It was NOT your fault.”

 

“…  I still feel guilty.”

 

“Don’t.”  She said.  Reid sighed and nodded, then turned and looked up at the last person in the room.

 

“…  Hotch.”  He said, softly.  The man smiled.

 

“Yeah…”  He said, placing a hand on Reid’s shoulder.  Reid frowned.

 

“Hotch…  Hotch…”  He mumbled to himself, thinking.  “…  Unit Chief.  SSA…  Hotch…  Hotchner!  Aaron Hotchn—oh!”  He gasped, cutting himself off.

 

And there it was.

 

Aaron.

 

He had found Aaron.