Unknown- A Criminal Minds Fanfic

Chapter 32- Sick

I downed two aspirin and climbed in bed, sliding under the blankets.  Chocolate came bounding over and jumped up on the bed, coming right over by me.

"Lay down, boy," I said, patting the mattress next to me.  I had a queen-sized bed so there was plenty of room, and it's not like I had anyone else living with me so I didn't care if the dog went on the furniture, so long as he wouldn't chew it up.

In the few hours I'd known him, he seemed like a very protective but extremely well-behaved dog, so I wasn't worried.  He curled up on the other pillow, and I couldn't help smiling inside.

I know I should have been up going over all the messages I'd received from my stalker, but I was feeling too crappy to bother.  My head still hurt, my stomach only roiled more tremulously than it had earlier, and my limbs held fast to whatever surface I was sitting on.  I ached all over and kept getting chills though, so I doubt I'd end up sleeping much.

Right as I was drifting off, I heard my phone go off.  I rolled over and ignored it, but it kept ringing so I groggily stuck my arm out of the blankets, slapping around on the nighttable and almost knocking my gun on the floor before I grasped it and blearily answered, "Hello?"

I shot upright in bed once the voice on the other end registered in my sluggish brain.

"You know it's inevitable, Charlotte."

My eyes immediately flitted to the curtains I had drawn over the window, and I grabbed my gun, clicking the safety off.  Chocolate stirred next to me.

I bravely forced a cutting, "Not a chance," out of my mouth. 

Chocolate lifted his head, growling low in his throat at my phone.  Apparently he could tell what was making me so anxious.

A dry chuckle crackled in my ear and the man replied menially, "Spending the night at your lover's, getting a dog?  You're playing dangerously.  I will not hesitate to make you keep our secret."

Any protest against him calling Reid my 'lover' was caged in my mouth, weighted down by the numb slab my tongue had become.  He was definitely stalking me, Reid hadn't even driven past the café a few blocks from my apartment when we were going to his apartment last night.  

The silence stretched between us, but I could hear him breathing on the other end.  Each steady inhale and exhale sounded more threatening than the last. 

I gritted my teeth, trying my hardest to keep from chucking the phone across the room, and then I spat out, "Why don't you just kill me already, you son of a bitch!"

It wasn't a question, it was a command.  Anything had to be better than this constant torture.

"Sleep well, Charlotte.  God knows you need it," he calmly responded to my outburst.  Once again, the dial tone was the only noise ringing through my head.

I let out a yell of frustration and hurled the phone across the room.  It hit the wall with a thunk and then smacked the floor, and I heard an unmistakable crack before it bounced once and lay still.

The hot anger started leaking down my face in salty tears, and Chocolate climbed over my lap, paws on either side of my legs, and started licking my face.  A wet laugh escaped from my mouth and I grasped his head, ruffling his ears.

I sniffled, wiping my face on my arm before remarking determinedly, "Come on, Chocolate, we're going to catch this bastard."

I threw back the blankets and slid out of bed, going into the other room and digging the papers out of my bottom desk drawer.  After scribbling down the conversation I'd just had with the unsub, I set it on the floor, spread out around me with the rest of the messages I'd received over the past month.  I don't know if it would get me anywhere, but I was fueled by enough anger to prevent exhaustion, so I might as well attempt to do something.

However, two hours later when I was coughing so hard I couldn't even see, I dragged myself back to bed.  Only after downing a quarter of a bottle of cough syrup first, though.

The next day was a blur.  Drugs, lack of sleep, and the constant worry that had been haunting me for weeks made it hard to pretend I was actually working on case files and I wasn't actually sick, so I spent most of my time just avoiding Reid and Garcia.  That night when I wasn't comatose thanks to medicine and the general lethargy that comes with being sick, I attempted to work on solving the mystery of my stalker, but needless to say I didn't get very far.

My alarm dragged me into consciousness at seven.  I hit snooze three times before I managed to pry my eyes open enough to drag myself out of bed.  A rattly sigh escaped my throat, but I got ready for work regardless even though I could hardly keep my eyes open and a bass drum was pounding nonstop through my skull, adding some clashing cymbals every time I coughed.

Friday was worse than Thursday because the rest of the team came back that afternoon from the case they'd left for on Wednesday, and I swear every single one of them suggested I go home and get some rest at least once.  Rossi even threatened to take me home himself, but then Hotch got a call from Strauss--I had heard few good things about her, so I knew it was a big deal--and they had to leave again.  And this time, Reid went with them because he was cleared for the field that morning and no longer needed to wear a sling for his shoulder. 

I still had to serve a few more hours of my one week sentence of desk duty, though, and even if I hadn't, I doubt Hotch would've let me come anyways.  He probably would have ordered me to go home if they hadn't had to leave in such a hurry.

I met Mrs. Mulcahy in the hallway when I got home a little after five, and after fussing over how sick I looked, she insisted I take care of myself and go to bed, but told me to keep my door unlocked and holler for her if I needed anything.  I wasn't planning on it, but I suppose since I had almost passed out just going up two flights of stairs, it might be a good idea.  Besides, Chocolate guarded the door every time he so much as heard someone in the hallway so I figured it'd be all right.

I didn't even bother putting pajamas on, instead I pulled off my socks, jeans, and the hoodie I had been wearing before climbing in bed in just a loose T-shirt.  I was out before I'd even had a chance to check to make sure my gun was on the nighttable.