--I said I'd do a sequel to Remember When and I am a woman of my word! Hope you enjoy!--
Run. Faster, faster, faster. Run dammit run! Her heart was pounding in her ears, sweat falling down her forehead. The tree branches snapped back and struck her face. He's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me! She fell again, cursing herself. She pushed herself up from the damp ground and continued to run. She heard footsteps around her, accompanied by laughter. The adrenaline pumping through her blocked the pain in her thigh.
"Nowhere to hide pretty!" The man yelled. "You can't escape me!" She tried to ignore him and keep the hopelessness out of her mind.
Go go go go NOW! Suddenly he was in front of her, an evil smile on his face.
"Please!" She begged. "Please don't!" The man grinned and raised the machete above his head and bringing it down across her neck. Her scream fading away into the night, no one around to hear it.
Spencer sat up, heart pounding, a sheen of cold sweat covered his face. He looked around frantically, expecting to see woods around him instead of walls. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair. It felt so real...so vivid. Maybe it was his identic memory... he wasn't sure.
"Reid are you alright?" Morgan asked. Spencer looked up at Morgan, who was sitting in one of the chairs that were on the plane. "You looked like you were havin' a really crazy dream." Spencer swallowed and shook his head.
"I'm alright. No biggie." He said. "What time is it?" He looked outside one of the windows from where he was on the couch.
"It's about 2 am. You sure you're okay?" Morgan said. Spencer laid down again.
"Yeah." He said. He faced away from him, toward the back of the couch. God was that vivid. He wasn't sure if he wanted to fall back to sleep.
It had been three months since he had been in New York. Three months since he had seen Rachel. He missed her, he missed her terribly. He missed her smile, her laugh, her eyes, her kiss...
It had also been three months since he had to talk about what happened to him in school. Well, almost. When they had gotten back to the Bureau Garcia attacked him as soon as he walked through the door, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing as tightly as she could.
"Are you okay sweetie?" She had asked, trying to control her frantic sobs. Spencer couldn't answer, she was crushing his lungs.
"Baby girl, the boy needs air." Morgan said. She let go and he inhaled sharply.
"Thank you." He said to Morgan. "Yes Garcia I'm fine." She wiped her eyes and grinned slyly.
"I'll bet you are. I heard about Rachel." She said in a sing-song voice.
"Yeah I heard you too." He said. "Any louder and you would have broken the phone." He grinned. Garcia blushed.
Other than that no one said a word. No one brought it up, nothing. Except the way they looked at him. The first few weeks it was obvious. Every time he saw J.J. or Emily, or anyone looking at him their expression was pained. Their eyes often bleary and deep in thought, as if trying to unravel whether he ws actually alright.
It had died down since then. Every now and then he would see J.J. or maybe Morgan glance at him when somebody brought a touchy subject up that might remind him of something.
He closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't want to think about Rachel, school, or his nightmares, all he wanted to do was sleep.
"There have been three murders in the last two weeks," Hotch said, pinning up the picture of the last vicitm on the clipboard behind him. They were sitting in the conference room in a town called Winchester Kansas. The population was 579. The entire town itself was .3 miles, and 210 households.
The town was small, and the last violent crime was in February of 2002. Six years since anything bad had happened, and this time it was close to home. Mayor Bradford's wife had been the first victim, followed by his son. The last victim had been the Chief of Police, Paul Sanders.
"This person is going after people with power." Hotch said. "He could be overcompensating for something or he could feel that the people in power aren't doing their job properly."
"He feels a need to control what he can't. In the way he's killing them he's making it so their life is totally in his hands." Spencer said.
"Reid do you have the statistics on this?" Prentice asked, knowing it was an uneccesary question.
"There is a 97.06 percent chance the unsub is white. 2.25 percent they're Native American and 1.9 percent other. 73.6 percent they're female, 88 percent male, 26.4 percent under eighteen." Spencer said quickly.
"Did you do that off the top of your head?" An inspctor, Dave Harwell, asked.
"They don't call him genius for nothing." A voice said. Spencer's eyes lit up and he turned around. "Hey Spence."
"Rachel!" He exclaimed, standing and almost tipping his chair over. Morgan grinned. Spencer hugged Rachel tightly. "What are you doing here?"
"We're following your unsub all the way from New York." She said. "Slippery little bugger ain't he?" Spencer smiled.
"I hate to break this up but we have a new crime scene to go to." Rossi said. Spencer nodded and they left the room.
"You two behave." J.J. whispered, grinning. Spencer blushed and Rachel looked away. Morgan and Emily giggled.
The crime scene was off of 7th street in the woods. Officials were all over the place, from the police department to CSI. It was taped off, the body lying in the middle.
"So how have you been?" Spencer asked. Rachel shrugged.
"Alright I guess." She said. "Um, about what happened last time..." She began. Spencer's heart sank but he hid it well.
"Uh, if you want to pretend it never happened then it alright." He said.
"I don't want to if you don't." Rachel said quickly. Spencer tried not to smile.
"Alright, then I don't." He said, cheeks pink. Rachel smiled and clasped his hand in hers, making sure the rest of his team was in front of him.
"How long has she been dead?" He heard Hotch ask. As they appraoched the group he and Rachel let go.
"About twelve hours." The coroner said. Hotch nodded and looked at the body.
"She was decapitated, just like the other three." He said. Spencer looked at the body itself, which looked eerily familiar. He looked at the victims face and gasped. It was the woman from his dream.
--Oo, now what? Tell me if you liked the start!--