FREAKING OUT ² ➢ spencer reid

XLVII

As we walked through the station I scanned the room, feeling the pit of my stomach grow once I remembered the reality of why I was here. I looked over at Morgan with nervous eyes and reached for his hand, tightening my grip on his calloused fingers. Almost immediately he glanced at my face, frowning at my sudden change in emotion. With a sigh, he ran his thumb along the base of my hand, pulling me towards the back side of the bullpen where the rest of the team had set up camp.

The second we stepped into the room all eyes were on us. I swallowed nervously and placed my free hand on my stomach, giving the team a quick scan before moving my vision to the board behind them. Like usual it was riddled with victim information and pictures, some of which I was already familiar with. I bit my lip at the sight and wandered over, releasing my grip on Morgan's hand before crossing my arms over my chest and continuing forward.

Once in front, I narrowed my eyes and focused on the details, noticing Reid's chicken scratch littered throughout the board. I brought my hand up to touch it, my frown slowly fading. It sounded stupid, but somehow it was comforting to know his barely legible handwriting was still there, like a piece of him was still with us. At that moment I felt a familiar wetness build in my eyes, causing me to close them and let out a shaky breath.

"Isla?"

"Hm?" I wiped my face and turned around, watching as JJ made her way towards me. Without a word she pulled me in for a hug, pressing her cheek against mine. At an attempt to calm down I hugged her back, knowing how beneficial the physical reassurance could be. "How are you doing?" I asked, even though I knew for a fact she was probably doing as good as me.

When she pulled away she shrugged her shoulders, giving me a blank stare. I ran my palm along the length of her arm and gave her an apologetic look, hoping that she could find some comfort in our shared state of dejection.

Hotch cleared his throat, signalling our attention. Before he spoke he glanced at the two of us, frowning deeply before turning his eyes to the rest of the group. "I just got word from Detective Iris that we have a potential lead."

"What kind of lead?" Alex asked, raising her brow.

"Local PD found a man wandering around the strip. We're not sure about authenticity, but he claims to know where Reid is."

I looked around the room confused. While the news itself was positive it still didn't sit right. The team hadn't had a single lead and now all of a sudden a man just falls right into their lap with the information they needed? It seemed wrong; trap-like almost. "Where is he?" I asked.

"Interrogation room," Hotch responded. He turned to Rossi, giving him a knowing glance. "Dave, I want you in there. See if you can get what we need. Meanwhile, Blake, I want you, Morgan, and Prentiss to head back to the dump site. I'm well aware we've searched it, but maybe with this man's help we can find something we might've missed." He paused to glance at JJ and I, letting out a small sigh. "I want you two to go over Mooney's journals. He's cryptic so maybe there's something we're missing."

JJ and I both gave him a nod, watching as the rest of the team filed out of the room. Once alone we gave each other a pair of tired looks before moving to sit down. As I sat, I clutched my stomach, noticing a discomfort rise at the base. I narrowed my eyes and lowered myself down, feeling the discomfort turn into a rush of flutters that erupted near my side.

"You okay?"

I blinked and looked down, moving my hand to the spot. Curiously, I pulled up my shirt and pressed my palm against the skin. As I did, JJ pulled her chair closer, somehow holding back a smile as she brought her hands to her face.