Summary: Reid rubbed his mother's shoulders gently as she mumbled erratically and shook in terror, gripping his arm to the point where he was beginning to lose feeling in it.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show or the doves, and ain't that sad?
Author's Note: This is in response to comment_fic prompt: Prompt- Criminal Minds, Reid/Author's Choice, "Mostly I remember the last one. The wild finish. A guy standing on a station platform in the rain with a comical look in his face because his insides have been kicked out." (Casablanca)
Reid rubbed his mother's shoulders gently as she mumbled erratically and shook in terror, gripping his arm to the point where he was beginning to lose feeling in it. The television screen glowed black and white as Casablanca played out. He had every Bogart film ever made memorized from start to finish. For reasons unknown to him and his mother's doctors, Bogart films seemed to calm her down at times and even bring her down from extreme delusional episodes. Her favorite Bogart film was Casablanca.
He planted a soft kiss on her temple and quoted softly in her ear, "Mostly I remember the one. The wild finish. A guy standing on a station platform in the rain with a comical look in his face becasee his insides have been kick out."
Reid felt his mother stop shaking for a second and managed out, "Can I tell you a story, Rick?"
Reid smiled. "Has it got the wild finish?"
"I don't know the finish yet," she replied, her voice beginning to clear.
"Well, go on," Reid continued, lifting his head and watching the screen. "Tell it-maybe one will come to you as you go along."
Her grip loosen as she began to quote Ilsa's monologue. She began to sit up more and wipe off her face with a tissue. She ran her fingers through her hair and sniffed loudly. When she laid her head back down on Reid's shoulder, she was calmer as she finished, "...with a feeling she supposed was love."
Reid snorted, tending to get into the emotions of Rick, and responded, "Yes, it's very pretty. I heard a story once- as a matter of fact, I've heard a lot of stories in my time. They went along with the sound of a tinny piano playing in parlor downstairs. "Mister, I met a man once when I was a kid, " it always began."
Reid laughed along with Rick and said, "Well, I guess neither one of our stories is very funny. Tell me, who was it you left me for? Was is Laslo, or were the others in between or...aren't you the kind that tells?"
His mother laughed as he finished and Ilsa slapped Rick in the face. She grabbed the remote from her bedside table and muted the television. Reid found himself smiling and laughing along with her as she smiled at him and, squeezing his hand, said, "I always love it when you do Bogart, Spencer."