So yeah. My first ever non Harry Potter fanfiction. Was sitting on the couch and felt I had to get this out!
Derek smiled when he saw the resident genius of the BAU stroll into the bullpen.
"Morning, Pretty Boy."
He barely got a grunt in response as Reid seemed preoccupied with sipping his coffee and one handedly turning the page of the book he was curently ingrosed in.
Derek shook his head in disbelief. Spencer hadnt looked up from the book since walking thrugh the door to the bullpen. The young man could barely keep himself upright on a good day and had frequently been spotted banging into walls. All this when he was looking straight ahead! But shove a book under his nose and he moves with more grace than a cat taunting a dog. He moved fluidly through the room. Avoiding chairs and desks at every turn. He even managed to set his coffee down on his desk and remove his shoulder bag, all without taking his eyes of his book.
"Whatcha readin', boy wonder?" Garcia asked, looking amused. She had been following Reid's progess through the room as well.
Again, without taking his eyes from the pages of his novel, Reid spoke as he turned another page.
"It's a fantasy series called The Wheel of Time, written by Robert Jordan, whose real name is actually James Oliver Rigney Jr. He had originally planned it only to be a six book series but at the time of his death in 2007 it turned out to be fourteen books long, the last of which has yet to be published. Though it's not the type of book I would typically go for, it has been exciting so far, if completely impossible."
"Impossible how?"
Dereek shot Garcia a glare when she encouraged the young genius to continue talking. Luckily, with his nose still planted firmly in his book, Spencer missed the exchange.
"Well, you know, wizards and magic and orcs and evil dark lords..." He said the last bit with a spooky wriggling of his fingers, finally having looked up from the book. He sniffed and put it down on the desk beside his coffee. "Though the series does seem to draw on numerous elements of both European and Asian mythology, most notably the cyclical nature of time found in Hinduism and Buddhism and the concepts of balance, duality and a matter-of-fact respect for nature found in Daoism."
"Wooooow." Garcia gushed with exagerated interest. She shot Derek a look over the genius' head when he bent to turn on his monitor. "So what's the story about?"
The dark man could not help but roll his eyes when Reid's head popped back up like an eager spring daisy might pop out of the snow.
"Well! At the dawn of time, a diety know as The Creator forged the universe and The Wheel of Time, which, as it turns, spins all lives. The Wheel has seven spokes, one for each age, and it rotates under the influence of the One Power -"
He stopped talking when his cell phone blared to life, making him jump. He pulled it free of his bag and turned the screen to see the name scrawled there.
Derek sat up straight in his chair, any annoyance gone, when he saw the color drain from his coworker's already pale face.
He watched Reid's tongue dart out and wet suddenly dry lips - a sign of nervousness. The young man stood from his chair, a hand moving jerkily to tuck a nonexistant lock behind his ear. His large brown eyes stared, unblinking, at his phone as it continued to ring.
Derek stood slowly, "Reid?"
With what seemed to be a burst of resolve, Reid jabbed the answer button with his thumb and brought the cell phone up to his ear.
Derek and Garcia stood motionless as Reid drug a breath into his lungs ragedly and exhaled it into one word.
"Kyle?"
Derek stayed beside his desk, unsure if he should move towards his friend or if that might be considered a breech in privacy. Across the room, Garcia looked to be struggling with the same conflicting thoughts.
"Right." Reid said. His voice trembled more than it had a moment ago and the breaths he was drawing seemed to both be getting shorter and more difficult to pull past his teeth.
"What were the results?"
Something cold was coiling in the pit of Derek's stomach. Reid's chest was begining to heave, expanding more than it should. Early stages of hyperventilation. As he moved forward to try and comfort the young man he saw tears flood and then spill from his brown eyes as the person on the other line answered his question.
"Oh..." Garcia's voice was high and strained with worry and she looked torn between hugging Reid and yelling for Hotch.
Derek's thoughts echoed her's but his gut was tightening with alarm as well. Spencer, in all the years they had worked together, had never cried.
"Reid, talk to me man. What's going on?" He tried to coax but Reid was shaking his head, his eyes closed, as if he sought to block out reality itself.
"Where is he now?" His voice was tight, no doubt constricting around a sob he refused to let go. The young man nodded once. "Ok. I'll be there as soon as I can."
He hung up the phone and there was several seconds of uniterupted silence in which Reid stared straight ahead, his brain no doubt going a mile a minute and Garcia was slowly approaching him like one might approach an injured kitten.
"Sweety? Talk to us. Tell us what's going on."
The tech analist and special agent watched Spencer blink several times as if he just remebered where he was and then he closed his eyes. Derek felt his concern grow when Reid's face went slack, the torrent of emotions that had been battling for position across his face washed away behind a stony mask. When the doctor opened his eyes again they were empty and dry of tears.
Derek tried again. "Reid, we can't help you if you dont tell us what's going on." When his gentle yet forceful inquiry got no response he looked to the tech for help.
"Derek, he's in shock!"
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Morgan had to move quickly to catch his friend under the arms before he fell.
"Ohhh kay, here we go." He said gently as he lowered the slight form to the nearest stable surface. In this case, that was the floor. "Easy does it, Pretty Boy."
When Reid was situated safely on the floor Derek turned to Garcia and told her to go find Hotch. The blond nodded and swiftly left the bullpen to do just that. Looking around, Derek found himself greatful for the ungodly hour and the resulting lack of people.
He returned his attention back to Reid, who didnt seem to be doing any better. He tried asking one more time what had happened but all he got in reasponse was the shake of a shaggy head of curls and a muttered, "Michael..."
Before Derek could ask who that was, Hotch strode into the room with Garcia in tow.
"What happened?" he asked calmly.
"I don't know. He's in shock and I can't get anything out of him." Derek answered, only a fraction of the frustration he felt seeping into his tone.
Hotch, to Morgan's surpise, squatted down so that he was almost eye level with Reid. The unit chief took a moment to study his subordinate's face before speaking gently and qietly.
"Spencer. Tell me what happened."
That gave Derek pause. He had never heard Hotch use Reid's first name.
For whatever reason, his boss' voice seemed to be what finally kickstarted Reid's brain. The boy lurched to his feet with surprising speed but when the two older men rose to meet him, the genius' eyes were still frozen in that vacant, unblinking stare he had seen in the eyes of so many victims.
"Michael...". Reid made as if to turn towards the exit but Hotch siezed him by the shoulders and held him in place "Spencer, look at me, please." the dark haired man said firmly. Authoritatively. "Who is Michael?"
Reid looked confused by the question. "My friend." He sounded like he had wanted to add 'obviously'. Suddenly his eyes became frantic, a touch of awareness returning. "Oh right!" He looked at Hotch as if he had just realized the man was there. "I have to go."
Hotch did not release his hold. "Go where, Reid?"
"To Michael's house."
"What has happened to Micael?" Hotch asked slowly, as if talking to a child. It seemed to be the best way to deal with people when they were in shock.
Reid seemed to be more coherent now and was becoming distressed again as reality hit him like a wave crashing onto rocks. "Kyle just called to tell me. Michael just got the call. He's been diagnosed."
Derek released the breath he had been holding. Shit.
"He's sick?" Hotch asked, just to clarify. He had to assume from Reid's reaction that Michael did not have much time left.
Spencer's eyes took on an absent quality again and he stared at a point somewhere over the SAA's shoulder.
"We knew there was something wrong, Kyle and I." His eyes found Hotch's again and a small, sad smile tugged at his lips unsuccesfully. "Delusions. Disorganized speech and thinking patterns. Paranoia. Hallucinations..."
Derek swallowed hard, glancing at Hotch.
"It hit hard and fast." Reid shook his head in disbelief. "So fast. We thought we had more time before..." he drew a larger breath than what Derek thought the small ribcage could acomodate. "Paranoid Schizophrenia. He's being moved to a care facility as we speak. It may be the last coherent conversation I have with him. I'd like to be there."
Reid's words were short, clipped and very...un-Reid.
Hotch's hands finally slid from the doctor's shoulders and he nodded gravely. "Take all the time you need." He paused. "Where do you have to go?"
"Vegas." Reid was already raising his phone to his ear to book the flight and as he stepped from the room to collect himself, Hotch finally turned to regard Morgan.
"I'll take him." Derek confirmed with a nod.
As if they needed more proof, Reid's lack of refusal of Morgan's help further solidified the devestation he was feeling. Morgan didn't know who Michael or Kyle were but he was sure as hell going to find out. It saddened him to realize he knew nothing of the existance of two people Reid clearly felt so close to. He felt less like a friend at the moment and more like a coworker. He made a vow to change that on this trip.
Read and Review! PLEASE! Not sure if this is something I should bother continuing. Lemme know, will ya?