MOCKINGBIRD | Spencer Reid ✔️

⠀⠀⠀ sixty

" - That doesn't mean that she can't be in trouble. Just because Scout has always thought that she's indestructible, doesn't mean that you should too."

Spencer tightened the straps of his vest, "I used to think she was unbreakable too, you know. But then - then I saw how much she changed after we lost the baby. She's strong - but she's still a human being, Hotch."

The team leader said nothing else except nod and turn away. He couldn't tell him how much his gut was starting to churn. Hotch knew something was wrong - he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"You alright, Kid?" Morgan placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder.

"Fine." Spencer shrugged his hand off. "I'll feel a lot better after we find Scout and get out of here."

"You and me both. She still not picking up her phone?"

"No, Garcia said she'd call if something came up. So far - there's been nothing."

JJ started to tie her blonde hair up into a ponytail, "Are we ready to do this or what?"

"Jay?" Morgan raised a brow at her impatience.

"What?"

He raised his hands in defense, "Nothing, it's just - you look a bit -"

"Angry?"

"Well, yeah."

"That's because I am. I don't care who this son of a bitch is. If he laid a single finger on Scout, I'm going to hurt him."

Spencer nodded, "Are we all set then?"

Morgan, Hotch, and JJ nodded but the silence on Rossi's part was unsettling. The male hadn't said a word throughout the entire drive and instead, looked like he was in deep thoughts.

"Everything alright, Dave?" Hotch's brow stayed in a single line.

Rossi nodded, "Yeah, I just - I can't help but think that this place looks familiar. Is it just me?"

The team stayed silent but Spencer immediately shrugged.

"No," The doctor inhaled sharply, "Now, can we go inside? We've wasted enough time as is."

The BAU went into a triangular formation, having Morgan in the front as Hotch pushed the door open. It was customary for the team to go in first and after having the building secured, allow backup to come into investigate with them. This allowed for none of the untrained officers to create a variable and contaminate the scene. If something did go wrong, everything had to be left alone as it was and taken into account towards the profile.

"Flashlights, everyone." Morgan muttered to the team.

The large warehouse was dark upon initial inspection, but the single lamp in the center of the room was bright enough to make out the two figures next to it. A large piece of white cloth hung from the ceiling, dividing the space and acting like a backdrop for the shadows of the two figures.

"FBI, drop your weapons!"

As the BAU inched closer, Spencer exhaled a breath of relief. Those shadows; he knew them all too well. His mind would never allow him to forget the way that they danced in the middle of his living during golden hour. The way it curves, the way it falls: no, it wasn't graceful at all. But it was realistic and organic, not romanticized like how Shakespeare and Tolstoy wrote about.