Blunder ‡ Spencer Reid

joker, joker, empty poker

+ pale green, jet black, and a talisman +

Piper Colton stares blankly at her pocket watch, counting the dull ticking of the clock. She feels the the thumping of the cool metal against the pads of her thumb, slow and steady. She breathed along the soft ticking, her heart beating in a rhythmical pattern for the first time in a few days.

tick, tock, tick, tock

Her eyes shut close, and she regrets the flashing memories she sees.

tick, tock, tick, tock

The equilibrium between steady and violent got lost, crashing and erratic as the clock chimes another hour.

ticktockticktockti-

She inhales sharply. Piper sits at the back of the SUV and leans her head on the window. The glass feels cold against her cheek, and in a desperate attempt to sleep she tries to think of it as the hands of her brother.

The thought doesn't comfort her. Her hair falls around her face, serving as a curtain from any eyes and sounds outside. She hears the faint melody of the music of the radio, another pop song played too much. She counts the beats in her head, her feet tapping along the rhythm unconsiously.

Her fingers ache, slowly itching to the nearest handheld item she had.

Under her eyelids she sees flashing colors of red and burning flesh and everything is violent.

Closer, closer, closer. Piper grips the barrel, slowly slipping it out the holster.

"Hey, we're here."

Reid's voice echoes through the noise of the bustling P.D. She's wide awake before his hand reaches out to touch her. She avoids the hand like plague, backing away as if struck. Piper pulls her hair in a loose bun, pining it in quick accuracy. She straigthens up, and on the slight reflection in the windows she composes herself.

Piper steps out without any acknowledgement to Spencer.

She feels the stares from the agents, and she knows her hands are quivering under the pocket of her frayed coat. Piper walks with her chin held high.

She laughs inwardly at the odd scene that she sees once she enters the room.

Everyone was asleep, yet their faces are taut with lines.

Piper's hand snakes towards the clock again, trying to find whatever comfort there was.

Tick, to-

+ scarves and chocolate hair +

Spencer Reid looks up from his watch, his hair falling in short tangles in front of his eyes. He stays seated on one of the empty tables in their conference room, his mind fleeting from Hugo's book to the girl sitting right across him. He tries to focus on the words, the same lines he had memorized for too long now.

It was funny, Reid thinks, that he was still searching for an anomaly in the same book he had read too much times for him to remember. Still, he traces a deft finger along the pages as much as he can, until the black ink of the words merge into one blob of text.

"Do you play blackjack?"

His head snaps up a few seconds after the question, yet her offer didn't really sink into his brain yet.

"Pardon?" Reid tries to reply with as much confidence he could muster. He was intimidated by her; the way she holds herself.

It was an avalanche; of confidence and glints in the eyes and a composure far too straight, and of course, the fake smiles that seems to never end at all.