Author's Note: This story starts just after Season 2, Episode 17, Distress, and right before the 18th episode, Jones. It was influenced by a conversation I had with a friend about Reid's Dilaudid addiction and how it affected his relationship with the team: specifically, Hotch. I hope you enjoy reading, please feel free to leave any and all advice or comments.

Warnings: Drug abuse


Demons manifest themselves in people in different ways. For instance, out of nowhere, somebody can get very angry for no reason. That's not just an emotion. That's a demon. - Stephen Baldwin


He was still, eyes unfocused in a way that went against his character. It had been a month since the Hankel case. A month since he was first exposed to Dilaudid. A month since all this started. He was certain everyone had noticed his edginess, that added stress and how consumed with guilt he was. He'd been having nightmares, practically pumping himself full with Dilaudid just to get them to go away. Luckily, on the few cases they'd worked since then, he'd bunked alone. No one saw, so no one knew. Not really.

Of course, he didn't doubt they would figure it out if they hadn't already, but it wasn't anything he had to worry about yet, not if they weren't going to be actively involved in a case. And they - the team, that is - were on their way home from their latest case with the war veteran. Reid was in pieces. Seeing people die wasn't the same anymore. He knew how it felt to be preyed upon, what it was like not to have hope in finding a way out. He was compromised, lost. In the end, he supposed, he was just the little boy everyone saw him as. Perhaps he wasn't as prepared for the job as he had predicted himself to be.

What else did he have, though? He'd sent his mother away, his father had abandoned him. He had the team, and that was it. There was nothing else for him, at least, he'd been convinced of it. A voice calling his name finally broke him out of his thoughts and Reid focused on the man in front of him. Hotch offered him an almost sympathetic smile, which Reid responded with a forced grin of his own.

Pointing to the single seat opposite the boy, Hotch arched an eyebrow. "May I have a moment?" He sat at Reid's confirmation, falling into the chair with a sort of ease. "I wanted to check up on you. I know things have been rough since the Hankel case," he paused momentarily, carefully eying the agent at the mention of the name. He squirmed, not unreasonably. "Are you hanging in alright?" There was no audible answer, though the silence was accompanied by a hesitant expression as if he were thinking, and that was answer enough. "I won't make you answer anything you don't want to, but I'm here if you need anything."

Finally, he got a reaction in the form of a nod. "Thank you, Hotch." Reid's voice was quiet, contemplative, but they both knew he understood. Hotch knew. Well, Reid was pretty sure he did. He was Hotch, it was almost impossible to get anything by him. Even the smallest thing, like if he hadn't eaten lunch. Hotch would know. He knows everything that happens with his team, though Reid didn't understand how. "I know you're… willing to listen. All of you are. But I'm fine." The lie was accompanied by a small smile and another nod that neither believed.

Hotch seemed content with the untruth, though. "Tell me if that changes. If there's anything I can do to help you, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask." Standing, the bossman straightened his jacket and took a step back towards his own seat, but a hand on his forearm stopped him. The two stared at each other for a moment in silence, blissfully unaware of the stares they received. "Yes, Reid?" Hotch finally asked, turning towards the boy.

"Could you… stay with me until we land?" Neither noticed how Morgan looked away in an attempt to hide a laugh, how JJ chuckled at what she thought was Reid being an adorable kid, how Gideon was suddenly staring at Hotch as if he were some boy who planned to break Reid's heart. "I could, um, use someone to talk to, I think."

Aaron's expression softened into something more real as he sat back down, leaned across the small table between their chairs. "Of course, Reid. Is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Or did he just need a distraction? They all knew about those. Distractions became necessary in a job like theirs. Granted, none of them approved of Reid using drugs as one, but without solid evidence of it, Hotch was inclined to give the boy the benefit of the doubt for now - only until things grew to be more clear. And they would.

Reid shifted almost uncomfortably for a moment before he sat up a bit straighter. "How's Jack?"

"Jack's good," Hotch replied without hesitation, almost an instinct. "He talks about you. He misses his Uncle Spencer," the man teased gently. They didn't spend much time together outside of work, but when they did, Jack just absolutely adored Spencer. Hotch had told himself to invite Reid over more once upon a time, but he never followed through. It was almost a shame.

A genuine smile briefly graced Spencer's lips. And there was a pause. "I miss him too," the boy half-growled before suddenly tipping his head down and pinching the bridge of his nose. He found a hand on his shoulder after a moment, supposedly a friendly, reassuring touch, but he felt as if it was more likely a cause for concern.

"Reid are you -"

"-Okay?" the genius asked as he sat up slowly, forcing another pained smile. "I'm fine, I just got dizzy for a moment. You know, turbulence and all…" It was another blatant lie that no one commented on. It wasn't the right time or place for that.

Hotch nodded in disbelief, and retracted his hand. "You should come over for dinner soon," he deflected, "Jack loves you, and I'm sure Haley wouldn't mind someone else taking care of him for a few hours." The offer seemed genuine, though Reid had his suspicions that there were ulterior motives. He accepted anyway.

"I'd love to, Hotch, really." His acceptance was, perhaps, more genuine than the offer itself, though being around the Hotchners worried him a bit given his recent extracurricular activities. "I can cook for you guys, it's the least I could do."

Immediately, the elder agent shook his head. "I couldn't ask you to do that. I'll cook for all of us, give Haley a break and-"

"You wouldn't be asking me to," Reid interrupted bluntly. "I'm offering." A moment went by in silence. "I've been causing some tension in the field ever since…" His voice trailed off, but he figured anyone with half a brain could fill in the blank. "The truth is, I owe you, Hotch." He was wringing his hands together, almost as if for fear of rejection, but both knew that didn't quite fit in the situation. He was antsy, craving a release. Clearly, though, he'd had enough Dilaudid for one lifetime as it was.

Aaron seemingly took time to contemplate the idea, though Reid knew it easily could have been a cover up for the man profiling him. "Alright," he finally agreed, "if you're sure, then I'll talk to Haley and we'll see when you can come by, assuming no cases interrupt us this weekend. Does Sunday sound alright to you?"

To anyone else, it would have seemed like a typical friendly gathering. But to a profiler, this was something else. It was Hotch's chance to get a fix on just what was wrong with Reid. And since the boy only had half a sense that it wasn't what it appeared, and he had no idea what, exactly, Hotch might be planning, it was his turn to give the benefit of the doubt and trust his friend was doing him an act of kindness.

"Sunday sounds great, Hotch."