Sacred Tears, Unspeakable Love

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love. - Washington Irving

The sky was gray and it was pouring. It was like it was responding to the tragedy that happened for members of the BAU and especially for Spencer Reid. It was certainly reflecting how he felt as he stared through the window from his spot on the couch.

Jason Gideon, friend and mentor, was dead. He had been brutally murdered by an unsub that had evaded authorities. It had hit Reid hard. When he heard the news, he didn't want to believe it. When he saw the scene... it laid down the harsh truth. And it made it difficult to work the case but the team did it. They caught the unsub and justice had been served for Gideon, but it was a short-lived victory since the weight of his death hit.

Reid stared though the window at the pouring rain and shifted slightly. His brow furrowed from the beginnings of a migraine. He inwardly cursed at the timing and tried to stifle the moan of the dull throb that would become a pounding nightmare. He didn't want to resort to the bottle of painkillers that had been kept because the migraines could be crippling. He didn't feel like moving and was resolved to waiting it out no matter how painful it got.

He was prepared for the worst when he felt a hand touch his forehead. His 'pillow' adjusted ad the hand shifted to start caressing his hair while gently massaging his scalp. He closed his eyes and moaned as the drug-free relief relieved the pressure in head. Another hand joined in stroking his hair, a soothing gesture that further relaxed his body. "You're a lifesaver, Gen," he murmured.

Genevieve Cordova smiled as she looked down at the man who held her heart as he rested his head on her lap while she read one of the first editions he had given her from his own collection. She had noticed the shift and had quietly watched as Reid tried to get comfortable to ride out the migraine that he had been ignoring more likely. She knew that he tried to avoid painkillers at all costs because of his addiction to dilaudid. So, she went with the method that never failed when she first learned he got them. She replied softly so the sound didn't aggravate it, "Only because I'm a genius."

Reid had his eyes closed but he couldn't help but chuckle. He teased her, "I thought you said that you were labeled that because you know things like Garcia and could understand it at a young age."

Genevieve laughed softly, "Penelope is a master genius in that area, I am just a genius in the things that can be easily missed by anyone."

"A profiler as a painter."

It was a joke they shared since Reid claimed that her paintings captured the truth even if it wasn't always pretty. He pointed out with one of her darker paintings that she had painted that she painted all the emotions that people felt but find a hard time voicing. It happened to be one of when she painted from memory of a village being wiped out from starvation that was hanging at a local exhibit. She had sold it with the proceeds going to funds for that villages and others like it.

She had also painted a portrait of a serial killer. She didn't know why she did it at the time but she did it. She captured the fact that he looked like someone's next door neighbor. It made Reid's point about the truth and that it wasn't always pretty but she had a knack for bringing reality to life in her painting. She saw people and their environments and she painted them.

She had stopped chasing the nightmares, as she called it, and only painted dreams. Since meeting Reid, she occasionally chased a nightmare but mostly in sketch form. She sketched what Reid described and then put it in an album. It served as a therapy of sorts mostly for Reid. It certainly helped when he negotiated the nightmares that he occasionally got. She looked down at Reid's face and smiled since he looked like he was asleep. She asked, "You feel like saying what's on your mind?"

Reid thought about it while keeping his eyes closed. He did need to talk and he always debated on bringing the nasty things he saw home to her. He eventually would talk about it but it was always a debate and he didn't like giving her the chance of getting nightmares like him. He kept her up at night enough when he got them.

"Speedy, I know Jason's death hit you hard. You told me yourself he was a friend and mentor," Genevieve added as she stroked his head, knowing that he was debating on telling her.

"Gen, I see horrible stuff almost daily. The last thing I want to do is... put that on you." Reid slowly opened his eyes and looked up at his girlfriend. "You're a good dream," he spoke, using her metaphors, "And I don't want to turn it into darkness or a nightmare."

Genevieve looked down into Reid's soft brown eyes as she continued massaging and stroking his hair. She knew she had met a unique and wonderful being in the form of Spencer Reid. She had wanted to help him because he looked so sad but then it grew into something more. Dinner, coffee, outings to their favorite places developed those feelings into love that he showed her in little ways and she always tried to return. "And I want to be there for you, Speedy," she replied softly, "Besides that is what the sketches are for."

Reid couldn't deny that. When he started describing things that were on his mind, she sketched them. When she was done, she would never let him see it and tucked it in an album she had for that purpose. She never looked at them again herself and things were better. They were both able to sleep at night. "Still... you are precious, Gen," he replied, "Everything about you and... I don't want you to lose that because of me."

"I moved in with you, didn't I?" Genevieve stopped massaging his head when it was clear that the migraine was pretty much gone. She contented herself with stroking his hair gently, fingering his brown locks. "Part of being together with someone is sharing the burdens with each other. A person is not weak for admitting they need help. They are strong."

Reid let out a soft breath. He closed his eyes and then opened them slowly after basking in the weight of her words. "I love you, Gen."

Genevieve smiled as she bent over to give a gentle kiss to his forehead. "And I love you, Speedy."

Reid sighed in contentment as he absorbed the soothing comfort of her fingers in his hair, feeling her light and feathery kisses. He could feel her soft, golden brown locks brush his cheeks slightly when she leaned over to kiss him. He had heard the same advice from others but she always had a way of being heard. He closed his eyes and hummed his pleasure.

Genevieve smiled and continued to stroke Reid's hair. It was one of her favorite things to do and he enjoyed it as much as she did. It was one of the little things she loved about him. All of his quirks and behaviors... they all made her feel like a giddy schoolgirl. She especially liked it when he rambled his facts because the conversation hit a point that triggered it or sometimes he would just say random things out of nowhere. She figured it was only to see her reaction.

"I just... can't believe he's gone."

Genevieve looked down to see that Reid's eyes were open. He was looking up at the ceiling of the apartment they now shared. She sensed he needed to talk about anything and everything about it. She prompted, "Tell me about Jason Gideon."

"He was one of the original agents in the BAU."

"Hmm. What about how he was with the team? How did he treat them? How did he treat you?"

Reid thought about it her fingers threaded and stroked his hair. "I guess you could say he was intense. He was passionate when a particular case hit close to home. Each one was always like it was personal." He paused and adjusted his head to look up at her. "Did you know that he kept a picture of every person he helped save in his office?"

"No, I didn't."

"He would even get letters from some of the survivors telling him thank you and how they are doing."

Genevieve adjusted her hands so her palms were like they were petting Reid's head. She continued to smile and hum softly. "Sounds like he made a difference, just like the team is."

Reid couldn't help but smile slightly as he shifted to look at the ceiling. "He could be a little harsh," he admitted, "But it didn't stop how much he cared. He was the one who taught me how to be better at chess. I was actually able to beat him."

"Sounds like he was a good man."

It grew silent for a time. Reid stared at the ceiling of the apartment while Genevieve was petting him. He thought about Gideon and how he left. Finally, he said in a soft voice, "I think he left us long before he died."

Genevieve had been enjoying the silence, just watching and observing Reid. It wasn't the creepy stalker type of thing but rather more just admiration and looking at the thing that made her happy. She barely heard his comment but she was able to ask, "Why do you think that?"

"When his friend was killed by a serial killer we were chasing... it was like he had enough. Like there was no more..."

"Like the last thing that kept him going was taken?"

"Something like that. Gen..." Reid shifted so he could look at her right side up. He regretted that he left the warmth of her lap but... He looked downward like he was trying to confess something. He tried again, "I... once thought like that. When I was... spiraling on dilaudid."

"But you didn't quit. You got yourself clean."

"But I did wonder if it was all worth it."

Genevieve stared at Reid. She never claimed to know entirely what he was thinking but she had some idea and that came from her quiet observations. She sensed that this was one of those times where one thing brought up another and they were tied together by a single thought. It was like when he rambled with facts most would consider useless. They were connected, just not in the obvious fashion. Knowing that, she replied, "You must have thought so. Otherwise you still wouldn't be Penelope's boy wonder, the whiz kid."

Reid nodded at that, "I guess you're right. It just..."

"Spencer," Genevieve reached out and touched his cheek. "You and the team see things that most people don't and they are lucky not to. It's hard for people to imagine those things let alone understand them. You and team put yourselves at risk when you go out in the field knowing that it could get messy and that is something people, most people won't ever understand. In the end... I think it's more how you see it and I think that Jason did see what he did made a difference. He just couldn't get up in the morning and do it anymore." She straightened out a few wayward locks of Reid's hair. "But I think he lived knowing that he had made a difference." She then looked at Reid.

Reid stared at her. He thought about what she said. "It's just... now he's no longer here."

"It's not wrong to grieve." Genevieve sat back and folded her hands in her lap. "You did for Maeve."

Reid almost hissed at that. He didn't like bringing up Maeve since he understood well enough the dynamics of jealousy and with that came doubt on Genevieve's end meaning she would wonder if he still had feelings for her. He managed to make a face at that and sat back up, ignoring that his muscles were crying out from the removal of comfort. He looked down at his lap as he sat facing her and frowned.

Genevieve didn't miss his expression. She was concerned that he always felt like she would be annoyed when Maeve came up. She wasn't since she figured it out when they met. She wasn't jealous of a dead woman but rather pleased that someone like her was in his life. She had come to the belief that everyone had a purpose. It sounded cliched but it was the truth to her. People she met in passing, saw dying... they all had an influence and impact on the person she was today. She believed that was the case with Reid.

Seeing his frown, she offered, "You don't have to be afraid of my thoughts and feelings, Speedy. I know how she impacted your life and you know that I believe that people have a purpose in everyone's life. Some obvious and others not so obvious."

"Not very logical," Reid replied still looking downwards.

"No but it makes sense in the world," Genevieve replied with a smile. She then teased, "And you know when I'm mad. You've seen my studio."

Reid couldn't help but chuckle at that, remembering one memorable instant where everything had been rearranged because she was mad at something. He had also seen her upset and she could put up a fight if necessary. She was always calm and serene most of the time. It baffled him and fascinated him and he couldn't get enough of it. He sighed as he looked at her. "I've missed him ever since he left. He wrote me a letter. He knew I would be the one to find it; that I would go looking for him."

Genevieve had taken the opportunity to stand and stretch. She had ambled to the kitchen, not losing track of the conversation. She put some water to heat and waited for it to boil. "I figured that."

Reid frowned at that and shifted to watch as Genevieve pulled two mugs out of the cupboard, stretching slightly for the height. "Really?"

"You told me yourself, Speedy," Genevieve replied with a chuckle. She put the mugs down on the counter. "You described him to me. He was a mentor and friend. The same person could mean something to two different people but in completely different ways. I noticed that David means something similar to you. Kind of like a mentor."

Reid frowned a little as he watched her tend to the heated water. "I guess but... won't that be awkward?"

"Not really."

"How so?" It wasn't that Reid was stupid. He honestly wasn't sure sometimes how to perceive his personal relationships versus the professional ones. He got the basics and for the most part he figured things out on his own. He just liked hearing her perspective. It was different despite the fact that she was like his best friend, Michael, in that they were normal with that kind of thing despite the oddities most would find weird or attributed to profession.

"Well," Genevieve came out of the kitchen bearing two mugs of tea. She handed one to Reid before sitting back down on the couch. "A person can have more than one mentor."

"But..."

Genevieve held her hand up to stop him from speaking. "It's like people you love. A person may die but that doesn't mean you love them any less and it doesn't mean you're trying to replace them when you find someone new. It's just different. You always love the people you miss but... that shouldn't stop you from living."

Reid watched as she took a sniff of the brew, savoring the smell of the Assam tea she liked and got him hooked on. It was soothing when he had a migraine or was getting over one. She took a sip, savoring the flavor. Rossi had said something similar to him when he said he was afraid of sleeping after Maeve died. He got the feeling that Genevieve was meaning more than his feeling of loss of Gideon. It then hit him.

She was telling him that she never saw herself as a replacement for Maeve. She was saying that it was okay to have feelings for her since they were different from what he had now. She was always a proponent that feelings did matter and they affected how you approached things and they brought life versus those that suppress them or don't take them into account at all. That didn't mean that they were bad people, she felt bad that they were missing out on something that could be wonderful.

Reid continued to stare at her as she sipped her tea, not realizing that his eyes were watering. He put his mug down and turned to look for the box of tissues always within reach. He tried to keep a neutral face even though those attempts were futile at best.

"Allergies now?"

"No." Reid gave up with the tissues but still had one in his hand. He stared at her and he felt the tears fall. He felt his skin heat up in embarrassment. It cooled though the moment he felt her thumb gently wipe them away.

"Silent messengers," Genevieve offered as she wiped her thumb on the tissue Reid had snatched. "And they shouldn't be feared."

Reid gave a wavering smile that managed to become permanent. He couldn't resist and he grasped her hand and tugged her towards him. He took her mug from her and set it on the coffee table. Leaning back so he was lying prone on the couch, he pulled her until she was lying on top of him and pressed her to his body. He held her in his arms hugging and holding her. "I love you, Gen."

"I love you too, Speedy."

"Thank you."

Reid heard a muffled murmur. There were no actual words but she was acknowledging that she heard him. He held her in his arms and started stroking her hair as he rested the side of his head against hers deep in thought over their conversation. He thought about what they talked about and he guessed that in a roundabout way he wanted to talk about the things that had happened, some she had gone through with him. Some things he didn't have the answer for but he knew that right now he had her and she was something.

He was sad at Gideon's passing and he was reassured that it was okay to let it show. He knew that he wasn't alone and that he had the team or the BAU family as Genevieve called them. He had his best friend, his wife and goddaughter. There was his mom. And he had her. They were there for each other through the good times and bad. It just took courage to ask for help.

Laying on the couch, Reid nuzzled Genevieve's hair and ran his fingers through it. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment, secure in the unspeakable love she gave him and he tried his hardest to give back to her. He gave a quiet smile when her head shifted to bury in his chest, signaling that she had fallen asleep. He relaxed as he allowed himself to fall asleep, not caring that Charlie, the tabby that looked like a wet rat when they found him as a kitten, jumped on the couch and curled at his feet. Some battles you fought and others you saved for a different day but that was a different story altogether. The battle he chose to fight was gaining the courage to grieve but not stay wallowing in it. And he had a damned good reason not to lying in his arms.

Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it. - Tori Amos

A/N: Reid just mulling over the loss of Gideon and questioning a bit on his role in catching serial killers. Set after Nelson's Sparrow. Enjoy.