Reid and Reid Ship Oneshots

Reid's Nightmare

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A baby. A baby? What was a baby doing in the middle of a room? It needed its parents. It needed to be protected. But only Reid was there to do that. He needed to get to that baby before anyone else, or it would get hurt. Gideon always said that children were the purest form of right; they were innocent. What kind of agent would Spencer Reid be if he let an innocent become the victim of evil?
He needed to get to that baby before the other person did. Other person? When was there someone else in the room?
Reid didn't know this man; he could barely even see him, but he somehow knew that he wanted to hurt that child. This shot a spike of adrenaline through Reid's heart. So much adrenaline, that it made his heart sink into his stomach. Figuratively of course.

He tried to run to the baby in the middle of the room, but he seemed to move at a painfully slow pace. Or maybe the room was getting bigger. Either way, the other person was getting closer and closer to the child, and Reid had no way of stopping him.

"You need to save it!" He thought to himself as he struggled to move his legs fast enough to cover any amount of distance.

The man across the room was inching closer and closer to the baby in the crib. So close, his foggy breath hovered over its face.

Reid tried to scream, yell, pull his gun even, but nothing happened. Why was he so useless? He couldn't protect anyone; anything.

Reid looked up from the dark floor of the empty room, only to see the man launch a knife down into the crib. A quick cry from the baby sounded and then the knife came back up, covered in blood.
Reid was wide eyed, tears welding up in his eyelashes. He brought his hand up in a fist, and started punching the side of his head, above his ear. It hurt it. It hurt his hand and it hurt his head.
He wanted to wake up.
He wasn't weak. He never has been. He's protected his mother; helped her, saved lives since then. If he wasn't weak, then why couldn't he help that baby? That baby was the definition of innocence. All it did was live its life, and because of a madman, it had to end in a violent and painful way?
Why couldn't Reid stop it?

He continued to hit the side of his head with his fist, trying to drown out the sound of the baby crying and the blood hitting the floor around him.

All of the sudden his voice came back and he let out an involuntary scream, as if he had been suppressing it for hours.
His own echo snapped him back to reality. And that reality was him sleeping in his bed.
He panted softly. He was on his back, staring at the ceiling with his arms and legs sprawled out. Was it late? Early? Was he late for work?

Reid squeezed his eyes shut as a surge of pain went through his temples. The pain he inflicted on himself from his dream seemed to follow him out.

He covered his eyes, palming them so hard that it hurt. When he opened them again his vision was black and spotty. And for a moment, the headache subsided. External pain caused it to stop.

Reid sat up slowly, feeling the headache rush back through his brain. He doubled over and wrapped his arms around his abdomen. He pressed hard, digging his nails into his biceps while pushing his elbows into his stomach.
It hurt, but it took his mind from the headache.

He held his breath so he wouldn't make a sound. He knew Morgan was crashed on the couch from the little get-together the BAU had. Everyone went home, except for Morgan who passed out in the living room.

Reid's nails began scrapping down his arms by the force he had against them. He was drawing blood; long, red lines went down his upper arms.

Reid threw the covers off of his lower half, and exited his bedroom. He quietly walked to the kitchen, and ran the faucet slightly. He wetted a paper towel and wiped away the blood that built up in the cuts. He then washed his hands, making sure to get under his nails where most of the blood was.