Give Me A Reason

Chapter 2- Mission Oriented

He stared at the white popcorn ceiling, wishing that he could go back to the dream. Spencer had dreamt about her before, but never this vividly. He rubbed the dark circles under his sleepy eyes and sat up slowly, blinking the rising sun out of his vision. This was the third week he and the team have been in Las Vegas and he had gone to see his mother last night. He felt bad about not visiting her earlier but he was busy as usual and she seemed to understand that.

He heard the buzzing of his phone which was probably Hotch. What time was it again? Spencer lazily looked at the clock.

Six thirty? Oh my God. Six thirty! Spencer's eyes grew wide as he flung himself out of bed and ran into the hotel closet. He grabbed a green sweater vest and a white long-sleeve shirt with some khaki pants and brown leather shoes. He had no time to waste. He was already late as it was- by thirty minutes to be exact. He quickly brushed his teeth, slipped on his clothes, sprayed some cologne on himself, and started for the door when he stopped dead in his tracks with his hand on the door handle. He wiggled his toes and then rolled his eyes because he forgot his socks.

Grabbing two pairs of socks and stuffing them in his bag, he headed out of the nice hotel room and towards the police station. Hotch was waiting for the doctor in the entrance of the station.

"Reid, where have you been?" Hotch whispered to the disheveled doctor.

"I'm sorry. I accidentally slept in and I didn't hear my alarm go off." He softly whimpered. Hotch nodded in silence but when Spencer started to walk past him, he stopped him with his hand.

"Have you been thinking about Maeve again?"

Spencer visibly flinched. He hadn't though about Maeve for 6 months and it pained him to think he could forget her. Of course, he could never really forget because of his eidetic memory but he was reminded of the painful memory once again. He shook his head and kept his gaze downward, casting off the thought and mere mention of her.

They walked into the loud station as the hotline phones were ringing obnoxiously. They walked into the office where the team was set up and joined in the active conversation.

"... John Makers is a red-haired, tan male. He doesn't fit the victimology at all." Morgan says while pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb.

"Maybe we're looking at two different murders." J.J. states aggravatedly.

"That can't be. It's the same type of mutilation and even more rage. He's getting more sophisticated with each kill..." Rossi mumbled as he shook his head.

Spencer sat down in an available chair and took off his shoes, putting on one of each of the two pairs of socks he brought with him. Morgan looked over at Spencer and arched his eyebrow at him.

He whispered to Dr. Reid, "Did you forget your underwear too?"

Spencer's eyes grew wide as he pulled out the waist on his pants. Derek chuckled and whispered, "It was a joke, Reid."

Spencer only gave a puzzled look as he slipped on his shoes once more and listened to the heated discussion that was still going on.

"... It doesn't make sense though! It seems like he's devolving and killing at random now. The timeline doesn't even match." J.J. turned to the board with a frustrated sigh. Hotch opened his copy of the case file and read over the new information.

"There's got to be a connection. Keep looking." Spencer picked up his copy and read through it quickly. They stayed in silence for a few minutes before Spencer abruptly stood up. He set his copy in the middle of the table for everyone to see, grabbed Derek's phone that was sitting nearby, and dialed the techie sitting in Quantico, awaiting orders.