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Days Break, But Nights Fall - Criminal Minds - Gen (Spencer Reid) - Words: 1,140
Written for the CaffeinatedMagic Prompt Table 01; Prompt: Free Space (Flight)
Summary: Spencer is actually rather fond of the jet during the night.
Content Notes: None. PG.
On AO3: Days Break, But Nights Fall
The jet was nearly quiet. The soft hiss of circulated air and the occasional shudder of the aircraft as it was buffeted in the night sky was just about all that Spencer could hear. All the covers on the windows had been drawn soon after they'd taken off and left the bright city behind them as they began their journey over the country. Emily had been the first to close one of the covers and the rest of the team had quickly followed suit: they'd carefully locked the city and the case away for the time being.
Morgan had his headphones on, but the lack of any sound slipping through the edges meant that his playlist had finished and Morgan was too deeply asleep to wake and turn in back on. Emily was sprawled out on the bench seat, the crook of her elbow covering her eyes as she slept. JJ was curled up on the seats on one side of the table, her shoes off and her hair slipping down over the edges of the seat. Hotch was across from her, still seated upright, but with his head leaning against the wall next to the covered window. Rossi was sitting in the single seat at the end of the plane with his feet kicked out into the aisle.
It had been a long case, five days without a lot of sleep and practically no down time, and now everyone was asleep. Everyone except Spencer. A few years earlier he would have attributed his sleeplessness to the case they'd just finished. Parts of it had been horrific, and objectively he could say that the sheer numbers of bodies and the amount of detailed mutilation was well beyond what the team had seen in a few years. There was no real way to say that one case was worse than any other; body count, type of crime, methods and motives didn't matter as much in that respect. Standing over an unsub's first and only victim and detailing the marks on the body didn't feel any better or worse than standing over an unsub's tenth victim with entirely different wounds.
No, it wasn't the case that was keeping his eyes open. He wasn't worried about himself or any of the members of the team. There was nothing weighing on his mind that he could find, though as a profiler he was certain that meant there was something resting just beyond the reach of his consciousness. Spencer peered into his empty travel mug and decided that more coffee when he'd already had eight cups that day was a bad idea. Or, since the new day had technically started while they were still in California, he'd only had two cups that day. He reconsidered his decision to not refill his cup but decided that rummaging around to get the coffee would probably wake one or more members of the team.
Spencer managed to sit still for another seven minutes before he let his gaze stray to where it had been wanting to go for the last hour. It was rare that everyone was asleep on the jet at the same time. At the very least Hotch was usually awake with a file, or Rossi writing something in his notebook. It had been 529 days since the last time Spencer had been awake on the jet while the rest of the team slept. It had been even longer still since he'd had the opportunity to retreat to his favorite place.
He turned his attention to each member of the team in turn, making sure that none of them were merely attempting to sleep or simulating sleep. From the slow way all their chests rose and fell to the flicker of Morgan's eyes underneath his eyelids, Spencer confirmed as well as he could that they were all asleep. They were all light sleepers, the slightest noise or movement could rouse them, but Spencer knew well how to move without being seen or heard.
Standing slowly, Spencer looked again and then walked with light steps to the back of the cabin. There was a small space in between the last set of seats and the back wall that led to tiny storage room where they stowed their go-bags. He shrugged out of his jacket and settled it on the floor so that it covered the space next to the wall. Getting to the floor without waking the team was a little bit more difficult, but Spencer managed to kneel in the aisle and then crawl into the space that was just the right size for him to curl up in.
When he finally got settled his back was against the cabin wall, his knees were under the seats, and his right ear was pressed down against his jacket on the floor. His shoes stuck out into the aisle-way; his legs were longer now than when he'd first joined the team. Those first few trips had been the first time he'd flown in an aircraft, and the first time he got the opportunity to be awake by himself he had come back to this spot in order to listen to them fly. The team was smaller back then, and it was easier to catch moments when he was the only one awake. Gideon had been the only one who had ever found him there, and as far as Spencer was aware Hotch had never been informed.
This was the best spot in the entire jet for hearing the sounds of it working around them, or maybe he would hear this if he listened with his ear to the floor anywhere on the jet. Either way, lying on the floor at the back of the jet, Spencer could close his eyes and imagine the physics and engineering that propelled them through the air at speeds that made his mind soar. As a child he'd always imagined that flying in an airplane would feel one step away from flying into space. As an adult, he knew that they were still well away from being in space, but it didn't stop him from feeling the machinery of the jet working around him and imagining it launching them out of the atmosphere - without the horrific deaths that would result from such an action.
Reminding himself that he couldn't fall asleep, Spencer left his eyes shut as he listened. The other team members could wake at any moment, but he could salvage the situation if it became necessary. However, if the team found him sleeping back there, that would come out as a whole different situation. He timed his breathing to the sound of the shudders the wind sent though the jet and felt his heart slow as he relaxed. He wouldn't go to sleep. He was just resting for a little while.
Written for the CaffeinatedMagic Prompt Table 01; Prompt: Free Space (Flight)
Summary: Spencer is actually rather fond of the jet during the night.
Content Notes: None. PG.
On AO3: Days Break, But Nights Fall
The jet was nearly quiet. The soft hiss of circulated air and the occasional shudder of the aircraft as it was buffeted in the night sky was just about all that Spencer could hear. All the covers on the windows had been drawn soon after they'd taken off and left the bright city behind them as they began their journey over the country. Emily had been the first to close one of the covers and the rest of the team had quickly followed suit: they'd carefully locked the city and the case away for the time being.
Morgan had his headphones on, but the lack of any sound slipping through the edges meant that his playlist had finished and Morgan was too deeply asleep to wake and turn in back on. Emily was sprawled out on the bench seat, the crook of her elbow covering her eyes as she slept. JJ was curled up on the seats on one side of the table, her shoes off and her hair slipping down over the edges of the seat. Hotch was across from her, still seated upright, but with his head leaning against the wall next to the covered window. Rossi was sitting in the single seat at the end of the plane with his feet kicked out into the aisle.
It had been a long case, five days without a lot of sleep and practically no down time, and now everyone was asleep. Everyone except Spencer. A few years earlier he would have attributed his sleeplessness to the case they'd just finished. Parts of it had been horrific, and objectively he could say that the sheer numbers of bodies and the amount of detailed mutilation was well beyond what the team had seen in a few years. There was no real way to say that one case was worse than any other; body count, type of crime, methods and motives didn't matter as much in that respect. Standing over an unsub's first and only victim and detailing the marks on the body didn't feel any better or worse than standing over an unsub's tenth victim with entirely different wounds.
No, it wasn't the case that was keeping his eyes open. He wasn't worried about himself or any of the members of the team. There was nothing weighing on his mind that he could find, though as a profiler he was certain that meant there was something resting just beyond the reach of his consciousness. Spencer peered into his empty travel mug and decided that more coffee when he'd already had eight cups that day was a bad idea. Or, since the new day had technically started while they were still in California, he'd only had two cups that day. He reconsidered his decision to not refill his cup but decided that rummaging around to get the coffee would probably wake one or more members of the team.
Spencer managed to sit still for another seven minutes before he let his gaze stray to where it had been wanting to go for the last hour. It was rare that everyone was asleep on the jet at the same time. At the very least Hotch was usually awake with a file, or Rossi writing something in his notebook. It had been 529 days since the last time Spencer had been awake on the jet while the rest of the team slept. It had been even longer still since he'd had the opportunity to retreat to his favorite place.
He turned his attention to each member of the team in turn, making sure that none of them were merely attempting to sleep or simulating sleep. From the slow way all their chests rose and fell to the flicker of Morgan's eyes underneath his eyelids, Spencer confirmed as well as he could that they were all asleep. They were all light sleepers, the slightest noise or movement could rouse them, but Spencer knew well how to move without being seen or heard.
Standing slowly, Spencer looked again and then walked with light steps to the back of the cabin. There was a small space in between the last set of seats and the back wall that led to tiny storage room where they stowed their go-bags. He shrugged out of his jacket and settled it on the floor so that it covered the space next to the wall. Getting to the floor without waking the team was a little bit more difficult, but Spencer managed to kneel in the aisle and then crawl into the space that was just the right size for him to curl up in.
When he finally got settled his back was against the cabin wall, his knees were under the seats, and his right ear was pressed down against his jacket on the floor. His shoes stuck out into the aisle-way; his legs were longer now than when he'd first joined the team. Those first few trips had been the first time he'd flown in an aircraft, and the first time he got the opportunity to be awake by himself he had come back to this spot in order to listen to them fly. The team was smaller back then, and it was easier to catch moments when he was the only one awake. Gideon had been the only one who had ever found him there, and as far as Spencer was aware Hotch had never been informed.
This was the best spot in the entire jet for hearing the sounds of it working around them, or maybe he would hear this if he listened with his ear to the floor anywhere on the jet. Either way, lying on the floor at the back of the jet, Spencer could close his eyes and imagine the physics and engineering that propelled them through the air at speeds that made his mind soar. As a child he'd always imagined that flying in an airplane would feel one step away from flying into space. As an adult, he knew that they were still well away from being in space, but it didn't stop him from feeling the machinery of the jet working around him and imagining it launching them out of the atmosphere - without the horrific deaths that would result from such an action.
Reminding himself that he couldn't fall asleep, Spencer left his eyes shut as he listened. The other team members could wake at any moment, but he could salvage the situation if it became necessary. However, if the team found him sleeping back there, that would come out as a whole different situation. He timed his breathing to the sound of the shudders the wind sent though the jet and felt his heart slow as he relaxed. He wouldn't go to sleep. He was just resting for a little while.
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