Who: Dr. Spencer Reid and Ray.
What: The newbies wake up.
When: Day 2, 9.45am.
Where: Inside the movie theatre.
Rating: PG?
Status: Incomplete.



Spencer Reid's head was spinning as he came to. There was an odd smell, almost like burning sulpher, that filled his nose and irritated his senses, jerking him from his sleep perhaps a little more violently than was necessary. The ground was rough beneath his thin cheek like old, thin carpet, wiry and worn, grazing the skin and causing it to rash a little where he had tossed and turned. That was probably the first time he realized something was wrong. 

He didn't remember much... He had been travelling to their hotel on their latest case in the back of Morgan and Rossi's SUV, and he knew he had put his head against the window to just rest his eyes for a moment... but he wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep there, nor did he remember climbing out of the vehicle and walking to his hotel room. The last thing he remembered was the distant sound of them talking as his mind finally let go and relaxed after almost thirty-six hours of being awake.

Dizzy, yet feeling oddly well rested, Reid lifted his head and allowed his bleary eyes to focus. His forehead creased into a frown beneath greasy bangs and he pushed himself into a kneel, studying his surroundings. Old chairs were lined up in rows, arcing around a huge projection screen. Drapes hung from the walls in an elegant fashion, but with no windows, the room was blanketed in semi-darkness. From what he could gather, it was a movie theatre, but not a very modern one. 

There was another body beside his own, sprawled on its side just shy of where he was draped halfway down a short set of carpetted stairs in one aisle. He didn't recognize the man, dressed in what looked like older style clothes. Stunned and feeling rather exposed, he reached for his sidearm, but his fingers splayed against his bare hip and found no trace of his Glock or its holster. His heart jumped into his throat a little, and he scrambled to his feet.

A quick few nervous glances, and the lanky profiler took the steps down toward the emergency exit by the side of the screen, putting his full body weight on the bar. It was jammed tight, refused to open. He quickly ascended the stairs, clumsy feet nearly tripping over themselves, and yanked and pushed on the main entrance. It too was locked tight. 

Breathing hard, he leaned against the door, his brilliant mind searching for an explanation, or even a possible way out. Scenarios flashed through his mind as to why he might be here and he swallowed, closing his eyes and trying to stay calm. 

He could not assume the worst, despite how tempting that was. If something had... happened to them on the way back to the hotel, or if he'd gotten there and been slipped something... well. Eighty-nine per cent of adult kidnappings were female. That wasn't to say that it was not possible, but the odds of two males being kidnapped so randomly were very low. There was little explanation for how he had come to be locked in a theatre, but he couldn't allow his panic levels to rise. Instead, he tried to ignore the scent if sulpher still lingering in his nose and tried the door again.