[CM] THE CASE

Dreams are the thoughts of the mind, our secret truths. —Truman Capote

Morgan asked JJ as he stirred the coffee, "Why don't you take a break?"

JJ's left forearm was wrapped in a bandage, and her hair was a bit messy. Hearing this, she smiled bitterly and said, "Everyone is busy, and I am too embarrassed to be idle."

Morgan was noncommittal, turned around and was about to leave, but JJ stopped him: "Morgan."

"how?"

"I... I want to ask, if I was with Reid at the time... I mean, I was in the barn and we were separated..." JJ was incoherent, "What would happen now?"

Morgan knew right away what JJ wanted - she wanted reassurance.If she asked Hotch or Gideon, they would tell her softly that it wasn't her fault and she didn't need to take responsibility for it.It's a pity that the person she asked was Morgan, or, the Morgan she asked on purpose.

The black said in a strong and impatient tone: "What do you want to know?"

JJ forced a smile: "I want to know the truth."

"The truth is that one of you is here and the other is missing," Morgan said, before turning around and nearly spilling scalding coffee on Griffith.

Griffith didn't seem bothered by the dangerous accident just now.He was holding an old diary - any other inappropriate behavior would shatter the book - and there was a kind of radiance on his tired face. Morgan almost suspected Griffith was on drugs, because those black eyes were staring at him eagerly, not even paying the heartbroken lady behind him a moment's attention.

After a few minutes of staring at each other, Morgan asked irritably, "What's wrong?"

If this kid dares to say it’s okay, he will—

"There's something," Griffith said, "about Reid."

Poor Coffee almost fell to the ground and died: "...what's the matter?"

"I might know where he is."

By the time Reid was injected again, he had adjusted to the soaring heart rate and deranged senses.

This is the third time, every time Tobias shows up, besides bringing him food and water, he must be given a shot.

Reid has published papers on how drugs work.He once wrote that all responses come from disordered hormonal regulation, in other words, a series of uninteresting biochemical reactions.As long as Reid is willing, he can completely recite every chemical equation and its corresponding result.

But the effects of these miraculous reactions stacked together, Reid must admit, he couldn't predict.

For example, he did not predict last time that he shared the same bed with his mother, and heard her read Proust's "Remembrance of Things Past" in a long-lost tone, a peaceful and ordinary afternoon, and they have experienced together, the future No afternoon will be the same again.

Another example is that this time he didn't predict that he would be sitting with Griffith on the small sofa in his study.

Griffith leaned against the arm of the sofa, reading a book.He was wearing a striped shirt and no tie, showing a fragile neck and collarbone, and his body language was more relaxed than Reid had ever seen.

Reid heard his own heart beating, thumping.

The study room was very messy, he didn't have the habit of tidying up the room, he always took the books and threw them away, anyway, he could find them in the end.This left Griffith with very little room to sit - a precarious stack of books was piled up next to him, and Griffith had to gently hold it with his hand to prevent himself from accidentally hurting himself.

"Reid?"

"Ah, what?"

Griffith looked up at some point, revealing Reid's familiar, black eyes.

"Did you find the book?"

"Uh...Of course, I found it." Reid held up the book in his hand.

"That's good." Griffith closed the book and stood up, "Come on, I'll help you clean up the study."

Reid almost couldn't turn his head around: "You... what?"

"Clean up the study, it's too messy here. Don't you feel it at all? Are you still sleeping here?" Griffith said in a disgusted tone.

"Oh..." Reid looked around and said ashamedly, "It's really messy, but you..."

"Come on, you pick up the books on the ground first."

Reid shut up, squatted down obediently and picked up the books on the ground.

Griffith is trying to push the book to the top of the shelf.In fact, he was not the best candidate for this job. After all, there was a 1.8-meter-five tall man squatting on the ground aggrieved to clean up "A Brief History of Time" and "The Interpretation of Dreams".

Reid held "Remembrance of Things Past" and wanted to ask Griffith where to put it, but the moment he looked up, he chewed the sentence and swallowed it back.

Griffith's thin waistline peeked out from the hem of his shirt, making Reid blush and look away.

"It's weird." His mechanical brain froze for a moment, "Why should I blush?"

Griffith was still struggling with bad books - Reid's books were heavy and not easy to put in them.

Reid put down the book and stood beside Griffith.

The book was finally put on, Griffith breathed a sigh of relief, looked up to Reid and said, "I give up, let's change roles, you get the bookcase, I'll get the floor... Hey!"

Reid wrapped his arms around Griffith's waist, resting his head lightly on his shoulder.

"Why are you here?"

Griffith sounded confused. "What?"

"Why are you here?" Reid mumbled. "I know it's a hallucination. I was kidnapped by Tobias Hankle. It's his hallucination after injecting drugs - LSD, I think."

Griffith was silent for a moment: "That's right."

But instead of answering Reid's question, he cupped his angular face and said softly, "It's all fake... so you can do anything."

Reid's heart skipped a beat.

"A dream is a mental activity whose motive is often a wish for gratification."

"The Interpretation of Dreams by Freud." Reid took his hand.

"You see me because you want to see me." Griffith smiled. Only then did Reid realize that his Asian friend's eyes were not pure black, but deep brown.It's just that most of the time the light doesn't shine in, and it looks very dark.

"Tobias made you flee, and ended up here, because you wanted...why did you want to see me?"

Griffith pulled Morgan into Garcia's territory.Both of them looked excited, but Morgan couldn't figure it out: "What are you doing?"

"This is the first video of him contacting us, look," Griffith pointed at the distorted footage, "when he said 'like a poacher.'"

Garcia zoomed in on Reid's head, adjusted the clarity, and slowed down again, and Morgan noticed that Reid's head was slightly off, as if looking at the camera.

"He knows we're watching," Griffith said. "It's the message."

"so?"

"So, I checked the poaching records in the past few days," Garcia's tone sounded like he had regained his usual pride. "Here, a farmer in Marshall Parish reported that two sheep were slaughtered."

"And Tobias's diary doesn't mention Marshall at all. As a parish, Tobias couldn't possibly not mention it at all. He may have deliberately concealed it."

"why?"

"Because he doesn't want his father to notice Marshall." Garcia called up the login screen, this time entering the password Eden.

"I have to say that Tobias Hankle is a genius, of course only in terms of computers. You know, two sets of passwords for a system is already very powerful, and he actually made three sets! And the third set can only be used on the premise of logging in with the first set .” The interface Garcia opened this time was extremely simple, with only a few dated folders.

Griffith said: "Although he didn't write it down because the diary is not safe. Tobias has no privacy, his father can always look at the diary, but Marshall is everywhere on his computer."

"It's not Charles who decides where to go, it's Tobias," Morgan said. "Charles chooses to fight, only Tobias chooses to flee."

"Yeah, I think that's where Reid will be," Griffith said firmly. "Let's give Hotch a call."