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It was strange. Normally he didn’t dream. If he did, it was nightmares of cases long past. But right now, this had to be a dream.
He saw a young woman, locking swords with Andy, cooking with Nicky, talking with Joe. Crying at an old phone. Talking to another man he didn’t recognize. It was visceral. He didn’t know who she was, but the others in his family knew her. Trusted her. That, at least, was clear as day.
Spencer Reid woke with a silent gasp.
He wasn’t on the floor. That was the first thing that registered. He should have been. He remembered everything spiraling out of control, remembered his body falling, the wood floor against his face. But no, he was on his threadbare couch, a soft pillow behind his head.
The second thing he noticed was that he wasn’t alone. And that made sense. Morgan being overprotective, Booker being Booker, everything getting out of hand. He didn’t bother sitting up just yet. Instead taking the time to organize everything in his mind.
First, Booker’s call. Late at night, unprompted, without a text to announce it. Then the breaking into his apartment, which was becoming a family tradition that he was not about to allow happen. The drunken non-information.
Second, the inability to get in touch with the rest of the family. That was almost concerning. And since they usually would at least text him to say that they were changing numbers, he was worried.
Of course, he couldn’t discount Booker basically telling Morgan about the whole “immortality” issue, which, five years on, he still wasn’t totally adjusted to. That was beyond unexpected. They’d all agreed with him that he would keep it a secret, and retire ten years from his first death. He would still look young enough to pass, but he’d be pushing it. Telling Morgan threw that plan out of the room, which didn’t make any sense.
And now, the weird dream. The woman with his family. Was she a new one? Booker had once spoken to him about the dreams, especially since they both shared the nightmares of Quynh and her horrific fate. But this one felt different. Maybe because it was possible for him to meet her? He wasn’t sure.
What was weirder was that he felt like he’d seen her before. Not just in his dream, but before.
Reid finally let his eyes open.
His eyes train around the room. Morgan is crouched next to his head, worry and anger and… was that betrayal? All warring in his eyes. Booker was across his tiny living room, now sitting in his worn recliner, head in his hands. He still looked exhausted, but there was something else now. Regret.
Neither man had noticed that he was awake yet. Instead, they were talking amongst themselves. About him. Which wasn’t the most comfortable conversation to wake to.
“Yes, he can die. No, it’s not permanent. What part of that do you not understand?”
“The part about not dying! That’s not possible!”
Reid made himself groan. “You can shoot me and I can prove it to you. Just stop yelling in my ear!”
Morgan jumped. Booker raised his head and glared. “After the stunt you just pulled, absolutely not.”
Reid pushed himself up, shaking off Morgan’s hands as we went to help him. “I’m fine Derek. Honest. Just haven’t slept in four days, and it all came to a head.”
Morgan snorted, almost sarcastically. “Most people don’t drop like that on a dime.”
“Most people don’t have their secrets dropped to people that may or may not be able to keep their mouths shut! And on that subject… Booker.” He went from teasing Morgan to almost growling at the Frenchman. Said man seemed to sink even lower into his chair.
Reid turned back to his long-time friend. “This will probably not be a pleasant conversation. If you want to leave now, I promise to call you tomorrow and we can talk at length.”
As someone not entirely in love with technology, Reid was making a huge consideration of Morgan. And Morgan knew that. But that didn’t mean that he was leaving just yet.
“Thanks for the out, kid, but I think I’ll stick around for a bit. At least until I know you’re gonna be okay.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Reid focused on Booker. “Book. Sébastien. What happened? Where are the others?”
Booker broke his gaze with Reid. “Not sure. I haven’t seen them for five days. And I won’t be seeing them for a while.”
“And why is that? Something to do with the girl in my dream?”
He startled. “You saw Nile? Was she okay? Happy?”
Reid held up his hand, stopping him. “Nope. You tell me why you’re in Virginia. Then I’ll tell you what I saw.”
“I messed up.”
“You’ve said. While drunk. Which I’m still not happy about, and you will be replacing anything you have already drank. Continue.”
“I made a… not a mistake. An error in judgement. I screwed up in a way that I can’t defend.”
Morgan rolled his eyes. “Dude, stop tiptoeing around whatever happened and just say it.”
“I sold our secret to Merrick Pharmaceuticals so that they could find a way for me to finally die.” He said it in a rush, his accent coming out more and more as the words slipped out.
Silence filled the apartment. And then.
“I’m sorry? Are you joking? Tell me you’re joking,” Reid stuttered out. “You didn’t actually betray our family. You didn’t.”
Booker looked more miserable with every word. The regret was clear across his face. He knew he messed up, and he deserved to have it thrown back in his face.
“Sébastien, why?”
“Because everything went out of control. First it was supposed to be blood samples. Then, they wanted a living sample, so I offered myself up. Instead they threw a grenade at my chest and took Yusuf and Nicolo. I never wanted to involve you or the others. I just didn’t want to keep living.” A tear slipped from his eye.
Reid turned away. “I knew things were bad, but Book, I’m a phone call away. I could have told you in a minute that Merrick’s company was bad news. They had some dirty deals with the US military that were just discovered, and that was noticeable.”
He took a deep breath and continued. “Do you remember when you came to visit me two years ago? You came after Yusuf and Nicolo left for Malta. When I was bad, after Mom got sicker and the whole Liberty Ranch fiasco? You said something to me, that’s stuck with me. ‘Just because we keep living doesn’t mean we stop hurting.’ And I finally told you why I was hurting. You said you’d come to me. Why not?”
“I didn’t mean it. For everything to go out of control.” His voice, barely a whisper before, was even weaker. Both the other men had to strain themselves to hear. “You’ve had a hard time lately, you said, when I called you about meeting in Morocco. Even before that, with you losing your friend. You didn’t need my pain on top of that.”
“That’s what family is for,” Morgan said. He still didn’t get everything, but there was a clearer picture being painted before him. “You talk and it helps.”
“I see that now. But held by my sorrow and grief, I got lost. And now I have to wait one hundred years to apologize for the two days of torture Nicky and Joe went through, and what happened to Andy, and Nile had the worst introduction to this life.”
Morgan and Reid both looked startled. “One hundred years? Away from them, or from everyone?” Reid asked.
“I took it to mean them, as you weren’t involved in the incident. They don’t know I’m here. We parted in London, at the usual place.”
There was a pause.
“I saw a young woman,” Spencer started, keeping his end of the bargain. “Dark skin, almost like Morgan’s. Two braids pinned close to her head. A beautiful smile. She was sword fighting with Andy. Another flash showed her cooking next to Nicky. She was talking to Joe in a flash, and a different man in another. She seemed ok, but sad.”
After a moment, Booker smiled. “She’s a fighter. Fierce, compassionate. She went toe to toe with Andy on a plane. She had the opportunity to return to her family in Chicago, but she came back for us.” He paused. “Her name is Nile Freeman. She’s a former-”
“Marine.” Both Booker and Reid looked at Morgan. “She was from my neighborhood. I kept an eye on her and her brother Layne. When she enlisted, she hid out in my momma’s apartment for a few days, because her mom was terrified she’d die in service. She was kind, but determined.”
Booker leveled a look at the third man. “Her family thinks she was killed in action. And she was. Throat slit by an insurgent. She’s alive because she’s immortal. Like Spencer,” gesturing to the genius, who gave Morgan a rueful smile, “and myself, though we didn’t ask for it.”
Morgan sat back. “I get it. Keep it to myself.” He turned to Reid, and quickly smacked him upside his head. “That’s for worrying me! And lying! I’m practically another brother. Don’t make me do that again.”
Reid rubbed the sore spot. “Ow! We still get injured, you jerk. We just heal fast.” To Booker, he said, “Do you have Joe or Nicky’s latest number? They changed them, and I want to touch base.”
Booker shook his head. “No, but I can find it. Give me a few hours?”
Reid finally realized the sun was setting. They’d arrived back to Quantico around lunch time, and Morgan drove him home before two. Now it was pushing seven. “Only if you let me order in. Your cooking is terrible, I have no food, and Derek is a guest.”
With a small chuckle, relieved that he hadn’t completely lost his youngest brother in his transgressions, Booker said yes.