flesh without blood
i.
His first year with the team is less eventful than he had expected. Gideon had made it sound much more exciting than it proves to be; the car chases and gunfights he'd imagined are instead closer to chasing unfinished paperwork or fighting over the last dregs of coffee. The rest of the team probably think he's disappointed at the lack of action, but to be honest, he's incredibly thankful for a relatively peaceful first year. (Morgan still thinks he's weird for considering a year filled with investigating rapists and murders anywhere near peaceful.)
ii.
His second year is relatively normal as well; sure, he's not expecting the team to find out about his mother's life-ruining illness, but he gets used to the team knowing about the possibility that one day he'd completely snap and gruesomely murder a few dozen people quicker than he originally thought he would.
Beyond that, it was all right, he supposes; a new team woman called Elle joins and becomes fast friends with him, even if she scares him a little sometimes. There's the slight issue of almost getting shot by a paranoid schizophrenic and a teenage nihilist, but it all works out fine, or as fine as Reid supposes it could be, in the end. He shoots his first unsub, and right between the eyes too - when everyone thought he couldn't shoot pool, much less shoot to kill. Well, except Hotch, who swears that he believed in him when he gave Reid that gun (and he's grateful for that trust, but secretly? Reid thinks Hotch was shitting his pants like the rest of them).
All in all, he would rate it a decent seven out of ten.
iii.
Elle ends up being gone almost as quickly as she arrived, and Reid can't help but feel that it was a tiny bit his fault. When the Hankel incident happens and the game of let's ignore our coworkers' incredibly obvious post-traumatic stress disorder and likely drug addiction begins, he can't help but feel this is his penance for playing it with Elle in the first round.
Call it divine punishment, perhaps.
(He does.)
iv.
A lot of things leave Reid in his fourth year. Gideon is the first, his replacement father (or at least that's what Gideon himself would want to believe, anyway). His drug addiction is another thing that goes away (or at least, that's what Reid wants to believe). It's a balanced year for him; something bad happens, something good happens. Ryan Phillips has his head blown off in front of him, but Owen Savage is saved from an otherwise certain suicide-by-cop only a few months later.
It's an alright year. Not good, not bad - just alright. Surely it can only get better from now.
v.
He contracts anthrax, almost gets blown up, almost sees his friend blow up, and sees his long-absent father for the first time in fifteen years, all in his fifth year.
His job, Reid thinks, is beginning to get slightly ridiculous.
vi.
And as it turns out, it gets even more ridiculous when he gets shot in the knee at the same time his boss almost gets stabbed to death. In the same year, Morgan gets attacked, Prentiss is in an accident, and Haley is murdered by Hotch's insane stalker.
This year, he becomes tired; and, he realises one day, scared.
vii.
JJ leaves, forced away by office politics and forces beyond anyone's control. He shouldn't be so angry at Strauss; she's only doing her job, making herself look good. Reid himself would probably do the same thing in her position, not realising how well the team in question functioned together (and also ignoring how much red tape they cross together, and how much money it costs the Bureau).
His migraines get worse and worse, and nobody can tell him why; the doctors he visits believes they're psychosomatic, that it's all in his head. He doesn't believe it, believes that there's a physical reason for his newfound headaches and visits many more doctors, only barely managing to keep it a secret from the team. (They eventually find out anyway, although he supposes it was only a matter of time.) He prefers not to think of the probable cause for them, and doesn't entertain the thought of taking an extended vacation. He'd always been told that the BAU was where he belongs, so that's what he'll continue to tell himself.
Emily dies, of course - because apparently the whole fucking world is out to get their team now, or perhaps just out to get him. He can still remember when Emily told them that she'd like to be cremated when she dies; the exact time, the temperature, what everyone wore. They ended up burying her, the very opposite of how she wanted. It makes Reid wonder if he's the only one who remembers that tiny, average moment that they shared, and how many others between them he's forgotten about. However many that is, he knows he'll never forget another one of them.
There are small victories wedged in between the crushing losses, but he doesn't have much time to dwell on them. He can't tell which hurts more anymore; the pain in his head, or the pain in his heart.
viii.
He's never realised just how powerful a force anger can be before.
Reid's never liked the idea of keeping grudges (though he certainly has kept grudges, even if he doesn't realise it - Gideon and William Reid would certainly both like a word with him), but he agrees for the most part that being mad at another human can be an effective motivator. He gets better at shooting, practicing until he can hit his target dead on without feeling a thing.
He's pleasantly surprised to find out that maybe he does have a cruel streak, if something pisses him off enough. It pleases him, surprises him, and frightens him too. He's become a lot more frightened in these past few years, all too aware of how delicate his life is, and how easily it could be taken away from him. From anyone.
ix
The lesson continues in his ninth year. Maeve dies. Strauss dies. Alex almost dies, thank god she doesn't. Life is still shit.
The team rallies around him in what turns out to be a devastating year for him, but Reid feels more lonely than ever.
x
Alex leaves, and Reid doesn't blame her. The stress of seeing a coworker - a friend - in danger is tremendous, and something he wouldn't wish on anyone. (He still feels like it's his fault; of course, he knows it's ridiculous, but isn't it kind of his fault for resembling her dead son?)
His neck injury is his other low point of the year, and he's forced to actually take time off for once. Most of it is spent sleeping, watching reruns of low-budget sci-fi movies and reading books he's already finished several years ago, and occasionally dreaming of his old team; Elle, Jason, Jordan, Emily, Ashley, even the recently-departed Alex - he misses them all. Hell, he even misses Haley; or perhaps he just misses the times when he could count on his friends being safe, of not having to live in fear. It's hard to make new friends when your old ones are constantly dying or otherwise leaving you, he finds himself remarking one evening when he's had what may be, in hindsight, one drink too many.
(And even one drink seems like one drink too many these days, or at least, after Hankel.)
xi
He makes fast friends with Callahan, even if they're not as close friends as he and Blake were. She's friendly and easy to open up to, which Reid appreciates given that he works on a team primarily of people who pressure each other to open up rather than waiting patiently. (Except for when it comes to him, Reid notes; it was different with Hankel, where it seemed almost nobody wanted to acknowledge him, much less his kidnapping.)
So when JJ finally begins to feel the repercussions from Tivon Askari and everyone appears to be sweeping it under the rug, he feels torn. It's a wonderful opportunity to be petty, but just because the team has failed him before doesn't mean he has to fail her.
Even so, he's left wondering whether anything would have changed between them if the roles had been reversed.
x o x
i don't see the light i saw in you before
and now i don't care anymore
x o x
this kind of just….ended
fic title and lyrics at the end are from the wonderful grimes' song flesh without blood. in no way do i own the song or lyrics i have used here
thank you for reading! i appreciate any feedback that comes my way, even if it's just one word, or even one letter. or even if you don't use any words and write sound effects, like heavy breathing or sharpening knives. it's all good fam