Chapter 13- The Weight Of A Word

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Isabel couldn't breathe. When he'd woken her up, she'd been fine. He'd barely spoken two words to her, though, when she'd felt a subtle weight settle into her chest. At first, she'd thought it was just the anxiety of what was about to happen. But as he'd continued to talk, the weight had grown heavier. Eventually, she had been unable to breathe under the invisible weight on her chest.

"It's amazing how much weight our words can carry, isn't it?" he asked, and suddenly, it clicked. The weight was tied to his words. The more he talked, the heavier it would get. "You should remember that more often. Words can hurt, can't they?" As she gasped under the weight, she realized what this was about.

The other day, during the middle of a torture session, Isabel had broken. Well, maybe not broken. But she had bent. And she had let her captor know exactly what she thought of him. She should have known that her words would come back to bite her in the ass. But at the moment, she hadn't thought of that. She just had to try and make him hurt like he'd hurt her. And since she was tied down, her words just had to do.

He said only four more words and she felt her bones begin to creak under the pressure. One more word after that, and she gasped in horror as her ribs began to snap.

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Reid wrapped the chain of the necklace around his fingers as he rode the elevator up to the bullpen. Sometimes when he was frazzled, or he couldn't see things clearly, or he was missing Ciara to the point of physical pain, he'd take her necklace out of the box he'd been keeping it in. Then he'd gently run the chain through his fingers, or wrap it around them, or run his thumb over the emerald in the middle.

And, somehow, it always worked. After long enough, he'd find his clarity. After long enough, the ache in his chest would disappear, and he'd be able to go on with his day. And while he knew it was irrational to think so, it was as if that necklace still had a little piece of Ciara left in it. When he ran that chain through his fingers, it was as if he was connecting to that little piece. Connecting to her. Maybe it was real. Or maybe it was all in his head. To be honest, he couldn't bring himself to care.

As the elevator approached the sixth floor, he tucked the necklace back into the box, promising to clean it when he got a chance. He had to make sure that when he gave it back to Ciara, it was in the condition he got it in. He had just put the box back in his satchel when the elevator doors opened up, and Reid gave a sigh. It was time to face the beast again. He only wondered what horror awaited him today.

When the livestream came back on, Ciara was the only one on the screen. She sat against her pole, knees brought to her chest, staring off into the distance. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Reid had tried to talk to her, tried to comfort her, but Ciara didn't want to talk. It didn't matter what he said. She would just stare wordlessly off into the distance. Reid's chest had ached when he saw that look on her face. She looked utterly defeated.

That was how she had spent the last day and a half. Switching between being completely silent to struggling to keep her tears in check. During the latter times, it was like she was doing her best to keep herself from completely falling apart at the seams. Not that he would blame her if she did. Under the circumstances, it seemed only natural that she would. Eventually, she would have to break.

No. She wouldn't. They would find her before she did.

Reid plopped his satchel down at his desk, giving Prentiss a small smile as she greeted him. Upon asking, he found out that so far, there wasn't a new case to go over. It was strange that they'd go this long without a case, but maybe Hotch and Garcia weren't accepting any new cases while the livestream was on. He looked over to Akilah's empty desk. Well, surely she wouldn't mind if he checked in on Ciara without her. She'd catch up when she got there.

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