Author: TemporaryUniverse
Character(s): Spencer Reid, OC, Aaron Hotchner (briefly)
Summary: Reid never thought he would see him again. But fifteen years after what he labeled as 'The Incident', his old (former) friend shows up, asking for a chance to make things right again. Will Reid find it in his heart to forgive?
Words: 1,686
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Unfortunately.
"Spencer? Spencer Reid?"
The owner of that name looked up from his desk and paled considerably as he recognized the speaker.
"Justin? What are you doing here?" He closed the file he was working on and pushed his memory of its contents to the back of his mind. Cold case, Lawrence, Kansas, two men, three women, dead from asphyxiation due to strangulation, post-mortem bruising and mutilation, bodies buried in the woods in a mass grave, no evidence left at scene. That was as far as he had gotten. Now, though, he had to turn his attention to the man standing not three feet from his desk, looking rather unsettled. A man he had not seen in over a decade and a half. A man he had hoped to never see again.
"Ah, well. I was wondering, uh, if you would possibly, um… The thing is… We… I need to, uh, talk to you?" Justin stammered out, "But you, that is, if you're not busy?"
Reid stared at him. What the hell? "Justin, what could we possibly talk about? We haven't seen each other in nearly fifteen years."
The other man fidgeted nervously. "It's complicated," He finally sighed, "But, um, I think it might be best if we did this somewhere more private?"
Reid glanced around and noticed that both Morgan and Prentiss were staring at him openly. "Alright. It's almost my lunch break anyway. Give me a second." He got up and took a moment to tidy the papers on his desks into semi-neat stacks, then headed up to Hotch's office and poked his head in. The Unit Chief glanced up from his paperwork at the knock. "Hey, Hotch, I'm leaving a bit early for lunch. Do you want me to bring you back something? I'm going to the little café down the street."
"That's fine, Reid. If it's not too much trouble could you get my usual? I'd go myself, but I have a budget meeting with Strauss." Reid grimaced in sympathy, nodded and turned to leave. "Reid?" He paused and looked back at Hotch quizzically. "Thank you."
"Of course," He smiled at the older man. He headed back down the stairs and gathered his bag. Morgan and Prentiss had obviously been trying, unsuccessfully, to get information out of this stranger who seemed to have a connection with their youngest team member. Reid motioned for Justin to follow and the pair headed out of the bullpen and into one of the elevators, watched curiously by the other two profilers. They didn't say a word to each other until they had ordered at the café; a hummus and veggie wrap plus a large coffee for Reid and a turkey, spinach, swiss, and tomato sandwich on rye for Hotch, and a chocolate chip cookie that Reid knew was Hotch's favorite and always added when his boss was having a rough day. Justin got a cobb salad and a soda. They sat at a relatively secluded corner and Reid casually positioned himself closer to the door, but with a good vantage point of the area.
"Alright, Justin. What the hell are you doing here?"
"You know, when I said private, the middle of a cafe was not what I had in mind. Are you sure−" Reid cut him off with a scoff. Justin blinked.
"We're just fine here. It's noisy enough that we won't be overheard and the waiters know better than to come over here. There's usually case related conversation going on and it's not the most pleasant thing to listen to. I ask again, Justin, what are you doing here?" His voice was hard, one more typically suited for the particularly stubborn unsubs the team interrogated. Or the rare person who pissed him off. Justin fell into the latter category.
"I-I wanted to apologize," Justin muttered.
"Apologize?" Reid's tone rose in pitch, taking on an indignant tremor. "The only thing you would ever be apologizing for happened fifteen years ago and now you think you can just show up and apologize?"
"Spence…"
"Don't call me that. You lost that right a long time ago." He practically snarled.
"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm not here to ask anything from you other than that you listen. You deserve to hear this and I was too much of a coward to say it before. If you decide you don't want to hear me out, you can get up and walk away, and that's perfectly fine." Reid warred with himself, torn between getting as far away as he could and listening to what Justin had to say. He stayed.
"I'm supposed to be making amends," Justin began, and Reid startled.
"Alcohol? Or something stronger?"
Justin frowned at the topic change that wasn't, but replied, "Alcohol. I occasionally mixed it with coke, when I needed something more." Reid said nothing. "I managed to land in the hospital and got it together. I know that some things are just too… damaged… to ever fix with an apology, but I needed to try." Reid stood abruptly.
"So that's it? The only reason you could ever find to even try and make a damn apology was that AA told you to? That you needed to make amends? I WAS THIRTEEN, YOU BASTARD!" He forced himself to stop yelling, they were attracting attention, and continued only slightly more calmly, reveling in the hurt and ashamed look in the other man's expression. "Sorry, Justin, but I'm not going to sit here and listen to this bullshit." He started to leave, but a firm hand caught his wrist, making him freeze.
"Wait, Spencer, let me finish." He couldn't breathe and couldn't help the way he was trembling at the touch. Justin seemed to realize this because he suddenly let go. "Shit! Oh, shit, Spencer, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." They stared at each other; wide-eyed with two very different types of fear. It took some time before Reid could calm his heartrate down to a normal level and relax slightly. His muscles were still straining with tension. "What I did to you, and, to Luke…" They fell into a pained silence at the reminder. Justin finally took a deep breath and continued, somewhat hesitantly, "It was unacceptable. I know that. I realized it as soon as it was over, but I couldn't bring myself to admit that I had screwed up."
Reid snorted, "Understatement."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyway, I hurt you, both of you, and I never forgave myself for it. It's why I drank. I killed my best friends that night. You lived, but I destroyed our friendship so completely that it was almost as if you were dead too. I couldn't cope so I drank and did drugs, and did basically anything I could to make it better. I tried to kill myself three times," Reid looked at him, surprised and more than a little understanding, "and it was so… I don't even know anymore, Spencer. It ached and it wouldn't stop no matter what I did. So yes, maybe I am here because AA told me to, but that's not why I'm here. I just needed the push to get up off my ass and try to make things right again."
Reid sat back down, carefully distant from the other man and took in the mess that was his former friend. Dirty blond hair, cut short now but it had been longer when they were younger, weathered lines in his face, carved by stress and age even though he was only 33, stocky build, calloused hands, desperate and haunted blue eyes. He wore tattered jeans, a polo, and a thick zip-up jacket. Reid could still see hints of the eighteen-year-old he had once known.
"You can't make it right, Justin. You said it yourself, some things are just too damaged."
"It doesn't matter if you forgive me or not. I know that you probably won't, and that is completely understandable, but all of this needs to be said. I am so, so sorry for what I did to you and to Luke. I have regretted it every day since then. I recognize that I hurt you and your family severely−"
"You didn't," Reid interjected.
"What?"
"You didn't hurt my family, Justin. Dad had been gone for three years. Mom wasn't present in reality most of the time. No one knew."
Justin gaped at him, looking utterly dismayed at that information. Reid couldn't meet his eyes. Justin opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. Silence reigned for a time, before Justin broke it. "I ruined a lot of lives with my actions. Yours first and foremost. I've been working to make up for my sins though. I started a non-profit to help bullied and abused kids find safety. I've stayed clean for two and a half years."
Reid laughed slightly. "Two and a half years and you're still on Step 9?"
"Only sort of. You're the last one. I did all the easy ones first."
"Cheater." Justin grinned at him, it dissipated quickly though, and the despondence returned.
"You were a good kid, Spencer. And, despite everything that happened, you're a good man. If I could go back and change what I did, I would."
"I wouldn't," Reid replied, stunning both himself and Justin. It was true, though. "It's the reason I went into the FBI. It helped shape me into who I am today. I might never have found my friends, or my job. Bad things happen, Justin, but if you survive them, you're stronger for it. I think we've both proved that." He sighed and stood, gathering his trash and the meal for Hotch, and smiled down at the other man.
"I can't forgive you, Justin. Not now, probably not ever."
"I know, Spencer." He looked sad, but accepted the statement easily. Reid subtly fingered the medallion in his pocket, tracing the familiar ridges and grooves that had been ingrained permanently in his memory. He drew in a deep breath.
"I can't forgive you, but, I can accept your apology. And I can say this: Thank you."
A.N. I'm pleased with what I managed to do in two hours. This was actually written a while ago, but I just realized I posted it on AO3, I didn't post it here. Oh, the tragedy. Where this came from, I'm not entirely sure. I place all responsibility on my sleep-deprived (it's her own fault) muse. Tell me what you think?