The After

Chapter 2

Blink. Blink. Spencer's eyes slowly fluttered open. He was lying on something hard and cold. The damp spots on the white ceiling blurred into one as he tried to refocus his vision. His left hand was facing palm up and the other rested against his stomach. A bitter, metallic taste filled his mouth. Spencer groaned and pressed his palms to the floor to ease himself up into a sitting position. He glanced around. He was on his bathroom floor but had only fragments of recollection of how he came to be there. Seizure. Curling his long slender legs underneath him, Spencer grabbed the wash basin to pull himself up to his feet. He wearily glanced at his reflection in the mirror. A trail of dried blood tracked over his chin from his nose and another across his cheek. He turned on the hot water faucet and cupped his hands underneath the stream of water. He splashed the water over his face and rubbed harshly at his stubbled skin with the pads of his fingers to remove the blood. Spencer sighed, grasping the cold ceramic of the basin, a bead of water rolling down his nose and dripping from the tip. A pinging sound attracted Spencer's attention. He grabbed a towel from the rail above the radiator and scrubbed his face, soggy strands of hair clinging to his forehead. He slung the towel back over the rail and sluggishly made his way through the bedroom to the lounge. The screen of his phone glowed against the darkness of the room. He picked up his phone and opened it. A white envelope symbol glowed against the navy blue Department of Justice background.

Private and Confidential.

Spencer opened the email to find a brief message from Deputy Director Doug Bailey.

Dr Reid,

We need to have an urgent meeting tomorrow at nine am. Because of COVID restrictions, this will be held over Zoom. This is to remain strictly confidential. Not even your team can know.

Regards,

Deputy Director Doug Bailey.

Spencer's stomach sank at the prospect of being on assignment, away from his family. Suddenly the teaching didn't seem so bad after all. He flicked back the sleeve of his blazer to check the time. His medical alert bracelet flashed against the beam of light from the window. It was eleven pm. Spencer glanced at the pile of papers on the table that he had been wrestling with earlier in the night. Deciding that the papers could wait, Spencer shrugged his blazer off his shoulders and slung it over the back of the sofa. He kicked off his converses and padded his way to his bedroom, colourful, mismatched socks sliding against the wooden floor. He unbuckled his belt, allowing his black dress trousers to fall to his feet. Spencer stepped out of them and unbuttoned his lilac shirt. He cast the shirt to one side and threw back the duvet to his bed. Not caring that he was only in a pair of boxer shorts, Spencer climbed into bed and drew the duvet up to his chin and closed his eyes as he rested his head down on the cool pillow.

Spencer had found himself unable to sleep. The knot of anxiety in his stomach was growing with each passing hour. He had spent the bulk of the night staring at his ceiling, his mind telling him that the shadows were creeping across the ceiling, though intellectually he knew this was not possible. Having devoured a bowl of Lucky Charms and reread through War and Peace, albeit at a slower pace than usual, Spencer prepared himself for his meeting with the deputy director. He flattened the creases out of his pale pink shirt and adjusted his black blazer. His entire being was burning with anxiety so he opted to forgo his usual cardigan. He brushed his brown curls back out of his face with his hands as he seated himself at his antique wooden desk and opened his laptop. He stared at the screen as it powered up, the pit of anxiety continuing to grow in his stomach. What kind of assignment could he possibly send me on? What if I never see anyone again? My mom... Spencer swallowed thickly, a lump growing in his throat. Using the touchpad mouse, he manoeuvred the arrow on his screen to the icon for Zoom and clicked. The window opened up and showed that he had a call waiting. Spencer closed his eyes and let out a long sigh before opening his eyes again and accepting the call.

Deputy Director Doug Bailey's youthful face popped up on the screen, his features hardened in an effort to appear stoic. Spencer knew that this was simply a facade. Deputy Director Bailey was still a little wet behind the ears and barely a foot out of the training academy though somehow managed to climb the ranks. He had no field experience. Spencer pursed his lips.

"Good morning, Dr Reid. I trust you're well?" Spencer cleared his throat in a bid to shift the anxiety that had managed to creep its way up his gullet to his throat and started to wrap itself around his lungs.

"Yes, thanks." Words were failing Spencer when he needed them the most.

"I understand that this may be causing you some concern, Dr Reid." Spencer raised his eyebrows. Am I that readable? "Under normal circumstances we would have this conversation in my office, however as I'm sure you're aware, we are in the midst of a pandemic and we need to keep our distance."

"Yes, I'm aware. Coronavirus disease, or COVID-19, is a highly infectious disease caused by the SARS-CoV-2 virus, with symptoms being similar to that of the common cold or flu and is spread through particles from actions such as coughing or sneezing..." Damn it, Spencer... Way to go... Spencer internally admonished himself as he caught sight of Deputy Director Bailey raising an eyebrow at him.

"Uh-huh. Well, as I'm sure you can imagine, the BAU will have to downsize for an unspecified period of time whilst we are in this pandemic to try and minimise the spread of infection. As for your teaching, this too will be put on hold."

"So, you mean that some of us are being reassigned?"

"Yes, Dr Reid. Yourself and Agent Simmons are being reassigned. We feel that your talents can be utilised elsewhere. I'm not at liberty to discuss Agent Simmons' assignment."

"What do you want from me?"

"You're going undercover for Counter Intelligence. There has been word that a group of people are going to try and change the molecular structure of the COVID-19 virus and weaponise it. Your job will be to infiltrate the group and get us details of the base of operations, plans, and people involved. Counter Intelligence will set you up with a new identity. This is strictly confidential. Not even the BAU can know."

"Why are you choosing me for this? I'm not a microbiologist."

"You have doctorates in Chemistry and Engineering. You will be fine."

"What about my mom? She'll panic if I don't keep in contact,"

"Your mother doesn't even recognise you anymore, Dr Reid. This is not negotiable. Report to Counter Intelligence at two pm today. Make sure you wear a face mask." Spencer simply nodded, his mouth agape as the call ended.

The comment about his mother had been like a punch in the gut. As much as Spencer kept in contact with his mother, Deputy Director Bailey was correct- Diana Reid no longer recognised her son and no longer had the concentration to read his letters. A pang of sadness swelled in Spencer's heart at the vision of his mother fading away before his eyes. He understood the brief periods of radio silence with the team, but he hated the fact that his weekly brunch with his best friend, Jennifer Jareau 'JJ' would have to stop. He wouldn't be able to see his godsons and JJ would have to try and explain to her two young boys why they can't see their godfather. He wouldn't even be able to talk to any of them on the phone. Profiling is what he knew. Profiling was his life. Spencer slowly closed his laptop and sat back in his chair, hands resting on his lap.