Hollers at work for a prolounged period of time. And her life. AND HER NEED TO NOT STRESS ABOUT CRUISES AND VACATION COMING IN LESS THAN THREE MONTHS, GOD. I swear I'm working on things. ;; I am.
Because I own this show at 23 years old. Yep.
Checkmate
"This is my family. I found it, all on my own. Is little, and broken, but still good. Ya. Still good." -Lilo and Stitch
It took Spencer Reid a full minute to realize that he was standing in the doorway of the Behavioral Analysis Unit office with an almost wistful look on his features and another nine seconds to snap himself out of his dumbfounded stupor. Of all the people in the universe he thought he would never see again, this man... this. Person whom he used to call his mentor was watching him with a sickening look of absolute curiosity.
The others in the room either did not notice, or they could feel the tension between the both of them- almost like it could be carved with a knife like a Thanksgiving bird. With Blake focused on her crossword puzzle and Rossi having a rather bitter drink in his office, it was almost as if the other two were on a completely seperate plane. But they knew Gideon was there, yet they also recognized that the youngest team member did not need to be coddled in this situation.
The moment Hotchner looked up from his paperwork and spotted the older teammate in the room, his fingers unconsciously tightened around his pen. He would not move, but his eyes watched like a hawk with ears sharply tuning to the conversation in the bullpen.
"...Reid?"
The genius of the team did not move from his desk, guarded. There was something new in this simple gesture that Jason Gideon would not seem to recognize... or care about. Either way, even Morgan understood what could go down, and he hid a smile from the world at this.
"I thought you were dead." It was quiet, broken. Playing again the innocent, naive genius he once was, knowing at any moment how he could strike down every word the other would speak to him. Nine years of being shot, drugged, left for dead, tragedy... lies-it had created and molded Reid into what he is now. "You l-left a note and everything, and it had e-every implication of..."
Gideon looked down with that sorrowful gaze. Jareau stole a glance at them both and went back to her write-up without a sound. "I'm sorry. I needed some time to think. To get away from the darkness we saw here every day. All the endings, the death... the rapes, the maulings." He shook his head. "I thought I would come back, see how everything has changed. And."
Reid blinked.
"And you're still here."
There was silence for a brief moment.
"Are you... how are you? You haven't left, so it. It must be good."
And that was when Spencer smiled. It was oddly bitter, as was his tone suddenly. "It's. It's going great. I get shot. I get drugged. I've seen people get shot in the head, people I know leaving and abandoning me, the lies, the death. It's all fucking fantastic."
The look on Gideon's face, in Morgan's eyes, was priceless. He did not move, but that voice was still soft, like he was trying to bring back that genius he tried to raise. The one he tried to show the world. "Why are you here then? You know what the job did to me... so..."
"Yeah. What it did to you, Jason." Reid finally turned around in his chair fully to face him, standing up from his desk. "Just because you ran away doesn't mean I am."
In his office, Hotchner could not stop a shit-eating grin unfurling on his own features.
"You ran, Gideon; you ran away from all your problems, all your pain, all your goddamn suffering because you couldn't take it anymore. That's fine; that's great. But you left behind the one person who actually thought you were a decent human being for a while and would show me everything there was in the world of profiling. You didn't call; you wrote a fucking suicide letter and left it in your cabin for me to find." Every word was quiet, laced with dripping venom. He stared at the other, his eyes flickering with a fire few had seen. "Do you know what that was like?"
By this time, the entire bullpen had gone completely silent. Not even Blake's pen was scratching against the paper.
"You know what's even worse?"
"Spencer, please. Listen to m-"
"No, you know what?" His voice overtook Gideon's. "Hotch told me you kept trying to convince yourself you did the right thing when I flatlined. He heard you in the bathroom talking to yourself about how you were trying to convince yourself that me dying was part of some grand scheme to pull Hankel out. Just like what happened to Elle." Fists clenched, and a near growl was heard in his chest. "I'm not a goddamn pawn in a game of chess, Jason. None of us are."
Gideon shot a look up to Rossi's office. The author clearly was failing to read a book, meeting eyes with the other. They were daggers.
"Maybe that's why I've stayed. Because I don't want to be some pawn in this game. The Bureau might have other places where I can be-teaching others about this work. This life. But I have a place here. With a team I know is undeniably the best at what they do."
The ex-profiler finally just looked at the floor, subdued by the spitting words of his former protege. Reid exhaled quietly.
"I don't want to run from my demons. Not like you did. I'm not... I'm not weak." His voice was quiet. "Not anymore."
Every pair of eyes was on Jason Gideon at this point, and none of them were inviting him to come back. Each one of them watched him, like a jury waiting for the last word from the judge.
With nothing more to say, Gideon turned around and opened the doors to the outside of the office for the final time, leaving his old life behind... and his old student.
No longer was Spencer Reid just a young profiler. He was experienced-in loss. Pain. Suffering. But in it, he'd found family. Strength in being with the others, those that didn't just coddle him, treat him like that baby.
They were like a pride of lions.
And he was not welcome by any of them.
