Statistics

You hide behind all those statistics and numbers. You hide behind the facts because they provide a shield for you. You're safe with them, they're like your security blanket. A long time ago you realized that knowledge is your superpower, it makes you comfortable and that is why when you get nervous you start rambling about statistics and studies and everything you can remember. It's the only way you cope. Although you understand human psychology, human relationships still seem foreign to you and you find it hard to connect with people. Unless you're relaying data, of course.

You, Spencer Reid, were always different. Some people would say you're gifted, a genius. But to you it's more of a handicap than a gift. Sure, it comes in handy every once in a while and it makes you good at your job but sometimes you wish things could be different. You wish you could be normal.

Some people spend all their lives trying to stand out, to be noticed. That's not you, though. It's the opposite, actually; you just want to blend in. And the more you try, the more you fail. Because you're especial. At least that's what your mom always told you. To the rest of the world, you're just a freak.

For as long as you can remember you've endured thousands of jokes and comments that always seem to compare you to a robot or a computer; people are so unoriginal! You'd think they could come up with something more creative but you're still stuck with the machine analogies. And the looks. Those are unbearable. You hate the looks of contempt just because you know more things than most people or because you can do things faster. And they don't only come from strangers, no. Sometimes the team looks at you that way. Morgan and Rossi do that all the time and so did Elle. It always upsets you when it comes from them. By now they should have realized how important it is that you know what you know. How many lives have been saved, how many unsubs caught because you remembered a poem, analyzed a map or simply figured something out? They should respect your mind, not think it's weird or freaky or plainly boring. But sometimes they do. And you wish you could be as cool or as savvy as they are.

No matter how much you wish you were like them, you aren't. You're the guy who graduated from high school at twelve and has three PhDs under his belt before turning thirty. You're the guy who can probably recite hundreds of poems but has no one to do that to because you freeze every time you're in front of a pretty woman. They usually say you're sweet or cute which, as you have found out, are euphemisms for 'not dating material'. It means they would probably come to you for advice or to cry on your shoulder but they would not get ready on a Friday night to go out with you. Why would they want to go out with you anyway? You'd probably end up talking about statistics all night long.

Because statistics make you comfortable. It's the one topic that makes you dominate a conversation. After all, no one else can remember so many numbers as you. It's a topic no one can debate you on and it gives you a slight sense of satisfaction; there's one thing you're better at than everyone else. It may not be very useful most of the time but at least it's yours. It's part of who you are and you're proud of that.

Yes, despite everything, you have come to terms with who you are. It was hell growing up but it made you stronger. Now, working at the BAU, you've come to accept yourself. The job makes you feel good, like you were especially put on Earth to do this. It makes you feel important because you are important. The team wouldn't be the same without you. Yes, they would keep on being the best and saving people but the dynamics would change. They'd have to do a lot more googling, for one thing! Besides, with the team you've found a family; the one you never had but always wanted. And it's that protection they give you that makes you feel comfortable in your own skin. Because they accept you as you are, making you realize that if seven great people like you, you're probably not that bad. Right? These people were and are willing to risk their lives for you, to endure beatings and to kill people to protect you and although you know they'd do it for anyone and you'd do it for them too, it doesn't feel less good. Knowing somebody wants you to be safe is an amazing feeling you'd never quite experienced. Until working with them. So you use your skills to protect them back.

And that's your intelligence. It may not sound like much but it's all you've got. It's constantly proven to be an asset. Mostly because it intimidates and surprises people. Because yes, you do read that fast, you do remember all that stuff and know all the things that you know, is it so hard to understand? It seems quite simple to you. But then again, you are considered a genius. So you keep working on maps and catching all those obscure references to sometimes even more obscure books and basically coming up with new ideas on how to get an unsub. That's what you're good at. Not emotions or shooting or making everyone happy but thinking. As stupid as it sounds, thinking is what you're good at.

So it's another Friday night and instead of going out you're at home, probably reading a government report or some new study that has come out. And you're safe. Comfortable. Even proud. You used to hate yourself for not being like Morgan or Emily or JJ, out there having fun but you know that the information on the report you're reading tonight may help you save lives tomorrow. So you hide behind all those numbers. Because although you're not good with human relationships those numbers give you the chance to save them. And there are few things better than that.

Thanks for reading, please leave a review with comments, suggestions, etc. It was Reid's turn now in my series of oneshots, I invite you to read the other two I've written: He Knows and Running.