Hello! I am back! And with a new story!
Well, it's not really all that new... but I thought I should probably upload it at some point, so. Here you go!

For all of you wondering about my other stories: not to worry! I am still continuing them; I am simply the slowest writer in the universe.

Alright then, on to the story!

Spencer Reid was having a bad day.

Granted, most days weren't exactly good, what with his constant headaches and the horrors of his job, but this day was definitely one of the worst. Said headaches were usually manageable, with a couple of aspirin or a short nap, but some days, they just reached a point where any type of medication meant nothing.

This was one of those days.

Spencer's migraine was a tight band of pain, wrapped around his head directly behind his eyes. His dark sunglasses did little to block out the blinding sunlight, and his vision couldn't stay in focus for too long. The noise of the train as it groaned to a stop for him was enough to make him whimper slightly. He didn't think any of the other passengers noticed or cared, not that he would have been aware enough to realize if they had. He had to try very hard just to simply walk out of the train without stumbling and slowly made his way to the building that housed the BAU.

Spencer had already been feeling a little cold before, and he froze when he entered the air-conditioned bullpen. He staggered over to the coffee machine, even though he knew the bitter dark liquid would do little to help him. He leaned against the wall, enjoying the minuscule amount of support the surface allowed his weary form. But the small moment of comfort was short-lived, as the machine then chose to let out a severe beep, letting the young doctor know that his drink was ready. Spencer didn't even take note of the amount as he poured in as much sugar as physics would allow him to dissolve into his coffee. Satisfied with the mixture, he took a small sip, walking a little more steadily to his desk.

Emily was already there, leaning over some papers at her own desk beside his. She glanced up as he plopped down, taking things out of his messenger bag. She caught a glimpse of various bottles of aspirin, most (if not all) of them empty. If she hadn't already known about his headaches, she probably would have suspected him of trying to overdose on prescription medicine.

She watched as Reid opened a file with a quiet sigh. Emily pushed her papers away, rolling her chair closer to the low wall separating them.

"Hey," she murmured, "you okay?"

Spencer stared at her, wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights. He opened his mouth, presumably to deny anything and everything, but then thought better of it and looked away. She already knew, and she was a seasoned profiler, after all. There wasn't much you could lie about when faced with such an opponent.

"I…" he began, not sure what to say. He didn't want to have to ramble about to get his thoughts known; it had painful enough just to utter that single letter.
Thankfully, she seemed to understand. "Headache?" she inquired softly.
He gave her a tiny, sad smile. He would have nodded, but he knew firsthand the consequences of nodding with a headache.

She frowned. "The doctors…."

He gave a tiny shake of his head, looking down at the papers before him. "Couldn't find anything."

Emily said nothing. Spencer could still feel her eyes on him, but he ignored her, doing his best to read the blurry file in front of him. He tried not to be worried about the fact that he could barely see.

He had only managed to decipher the first page before JJ appeared out of nowhere, a stack of papers under her arm, sleek blond ponytail swishing behind her.

She sighed. "We've got a case."

The members of the BAU wordlessly got to their feet, packing up bags and downing half-empty cups of coffee. The bullpen was soon empty, save two people. Morgan noticed Spencer being a little slower than usual, and stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for him to catch up.

"Hey, Pretty Boy," he called, "you coming?"

The young genius tried to hide a flinch at his friend's loud voice. "Yeah, hold on…." He blindly shoved a few more papers and pencils into his messenger bag before easing himself out of his chair, walking around his cubicle to Emily's side. Only, before he got there, he stumbled, falling to the floor with a surprised yelp.

Reid was about to wearily pull himself to his feet, stammer out an apology, and ignore Derek's inevitable mocking, only… he wasn't in the bullpen anymore.

Morgan let out a chuckle as the young genius tripped over nothing and fell to the ground, behind the small wall separating his desk from Emily's, out of his line of sight.

He waited ten seconds.

His laughter died in his throat when Spencer didn't get up. He frowned, taking a few steps forwards. "Reid?"

No answer.

He stepped closer still, leaning to the side to see better. "You okay, Reid?"

Silence.

Morgan stepped completely around the small wall.

Reid wasn't there.

The dark-skinned agent frowned deeper, bending over and checking under the desk. He walked all the way around the two cubicles, straightening with a huff. What the hell…?

"Morgan?" Garcia's voice inquired. He turned around, looking up at her at the top of the stairs. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing?"

He stared at the spot on the ground for a few more moments, before reluctantly pulling back and turning to look at the colourful woman beckoning him. "Garcia, I might need you to pull up some security footage."

Penelope frowned, worry marring her features. When her Chocolate God called her by her name, business was serious. "Sure thing… why?"

It took him a little while to answer. "I have absolutely no idea," he said honestly.

Spencer blinked a few times, trying to convince himself he was hallucinating. Unfortunately, the image didn't fade.

He was half-sitting, half-lying on a metal grid floor in a big, circular room, and there were artistically strange pillars curving up like coral from the floor to the ceiling. The walls seemed to be lined with some sort of metal with lit up hexagonal indents at regular intervals, and there were a thousand different wires hanging down from the ceiling, and a few beneath the floor, connecting who-knows-what to who-knows-where. The centre of the room, though, was by far the most intriguing. There was a circular console with a round, transparent pillar shooting out of the middle. Inside the pillar were a bunch of clear tubes that didn't seem to serve a purpose, and the whole thing pulsed with an eerie turquoise light.

But most interesting of all was the thin man in a pinstripe suit who was ogling him from the console.

A beat passed with the two men staring at each other, utter confusion apparent in the face of each.

And then all hell broke loose, in the form of the suited man snapping up and leaping towards him, a frown upon his shaven face. He wordlessly pulled Spencer to his feet, pushing him to and fro to observe at his every angle, tightly gripping his shoulder. Reid was slightly unnerved by the examination being performed by this stranger, but was far to befuddled to do anything about it.

The strange man—still frowning yet now with a more childlike fascination—took out a pen-like object and pointed it at Spencer's eyes, causing him to flinch back at the bright assault of blue light. The object hummed for a minute, before quieting with a soft bleep. The man frowned in concentration at something on its side, releasing Reid's shoulder.

The man in the suit's large eyes widened more than seemed possible, and he stared from the blue pen-thing, to Reid, and back again.

"But… but… but… what?" he exclaimed. He had an English accent, to Spencer's bewilderment, and a very expressive voice.

Spencer didn't understand anything that was going on. "E-excuse me, but… where am I? And who are you?"

The suited man made a very shocked face, practically ignoring his words. "You're American?" He turned back to his console, swinging around a screen and keyboard, flicking a few stray wires out of the way. "Wait, how did you get from America… but…? I suppose it is possible, but that's still quite a jump, though…."

The young profiler was at a loss for words. The other man continued to babble on, but it was complete gibberish—even to Reid.

Fortunately (or not) he didn't really have to say anything, for just then, his headache hit him full force. He was unprepared for the sudden amount of pressure pushing into his mind. He emitted a small grunt, scrunching up his eyes and digging his fingers into them. He had no explanation for the excruciating pain he was in; it had never got this bad before. Tell me again this is psychosomatic, he thought bitterly, even as he felt his mind shutting itself down.

The other man, thankfully, managed to catch him before he hit the ground, gently lowering him so he didn't hit his head on anything.

Spencer's last thoughts were just hoping that the man knew what was going on better than he did.

And then everything faded away.

Aaaaaand that's chapter one!
I'm currently working on chapter two, but I can't say when I'll have it finished.

Bear with me, please. I am a pathological procrastinator.

Please review, and feel free to ask questions/point out mistakes/etc!