Psychopathy

Chapter 8- Alone

Though her captor and the demons that helped him do his torturing had disappeared for the moment, the pain they had caused refused to abate. It still tore through Isabel's body, each pang reminding her of the things that had been done to her. Everything was quiet, and though she knew she should take comfort in the reprieve, the stillness unsettled her. She knew that when the stillness broke, a monster would be waiting for her that would take her to hell and back a thousand times in a thousand different ways.

If she only had someone to face it with, then perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. But while it foreshadowed the monster, the stillness also reminded Isabel that she was so completely alone.

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Reid hurried away from Garcia's office, not knowing or caring if anyone was calling for him. He couldn't go back to that room. He couldn't face what they had just seen and heard, and he couldn't face the judgment he feared he would get for his impulsive reaction. He was known for always being calm and collected, even in the face of emotional turmoil. He was known for maneuvering stressful situations as if they were a game of chess, thinking things over logically and rationally before strategically making his next move.

That's why it was so rare for him to make a decision with his heart rather than with his head. That's why every member of his team had been stunned into silence when he had shut down that livestream. That wasn't a chess move. That was more like flipping over the table and sending the pieces scattering in all directions.

But as he thought about what had led to his reaction, he felt his breath catch in his throat, and he knew he had approximately five seconds before he broke down more than he already had. All he could do was ensure that he was alone when he did so. Lengthening his strides, he made his way to the first empty office he could find, slamming and locking the door. Breathing heavily, he took a step into the room, running his hands through his hair, just trying to calm himself down. It didn't work though, and soon, he couldn't contain it anymore.

"FUCK!" Reid wasn't one to curse extensively. Every now and again, sure, but curse words weren't in his everyday vocabulary. There were so many better words in the English language, and many more in other languages, that he could use to get his point across. But despite his extraordinary knowledge of the approximately 171,146 words in the English language, in that scenario, "fuck" was exactly the word he was looking for. There was no other word in English or any other language that could properly convey what was going through his heart and his head.

He didn't want to think about it- he didn't want to keep repeating the last ten minutes inside of his head. He tried to force himself to think about anything else. Books. Statistics. Scholarly articles. Ciara. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always came back to her- the woman he cared so deeply about, the woman that had just been... No. No. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about...

Screams. Skin slapping skin. Cruel laughter. Desperate, fervent pleas to stop.

With a cry, he whipped around, slamming his fists into the wall. After a few moments of heavy breathing, he slowly turned himself around, leaning against the wall. As his chest tightened and his hands shook and his heart slammed against his ribcage and his blood rushed in his ears, he slowly sank to the floor. Tears burned in his eyes, and he began to rub his face, trying to get the tears to go away. He couldn't cry. He had no right to cry. After all, that horrible, unspeakable thing had happened to her. He had only been privy to it.

Calm down. You're supposed to be the pragmatic one. You're not supposed to let emotions get the best of you. So calm down and man up. You can't help her if you're in here crying. So just push it down, get your shit together, and go back in there and make the breakthrough and solve the case like you're supposed to.