Title: Safety and Trust

Rating: M

Summary: Gift fic to OrangeZest100. Reid and Garcia are on a brand new BAU team following the events of Spencer's Secret. Will Reid ever learn how to trust his new teammates? Majorly AU! Reid/Garcia

Comments: This is a sequel to OrangeZest100's fic Spencer's Secret. I have the authors permission to do this. You must read that story before you read this one in order to understand what the F is going on here. To find the fic easilly, simply go to my profile and serch my faves. Read it already? Well then, enjoy!

Flashbacks are introduced and concluded with a seriese of periods and are in italics. Example:

. . . . . . . . . .

Flashback

. . . . . . . . . .

On with the show!

Cuts, scars, bruises, lies and fake laughs. Fake smiles, constant cries and a horrifying past. Promises broken, lost loves…and the "trust me" that didn't last.

~Unknown Author

"It's going to be okay, Spencer. I did background checks on every single one of them. Trust me, if I didn't approve of them Straus would not be making a team out of them."

Spencer Reid gave his (only) friend Penelope Garcia, the technical analyst for the BAU, a skeptical look. "Garcia, the FBI already does background checks on everyone. That didn't stop agents Gideon, Greenaway, Hotchner, Rossi, Prentiss, and Jereu from getting through and-"

The quirky bleach-blond interrupted the young doctor. "No, no, no. You don't seam to understand sweetie. When I say background check I mean I have school records going back to freaking kindergarten, credit scores, bank statements, medical records, social networking profiles, browser histories, even hidden ones, of every IP address they are known to have access to, cell phone call logs, satellite images of every address from birth, you name it I have it. These people haven't downloaded a picture of a kitten or called out for pizza in the past five years that I don't have in my database. Everything is backed up with backups of backups."

"Garcia, I-"

"I am, as I have stated countless times, the all knowing goddess of all things tech. These are good people, Spencer. I trust them."

Trust. He had trusted Jason Gideon when they had first met. He allowed the senior agent to lead his way into the FBI and into the BAU. He had been twenty-one then, just a kid, really.

A kid that was about to be put through a living hell at the hands of his "teammates."

. . . . . . . . . . .

Jason Gideon shook his head. "I am sick and tiered of hearing about your lunatic bitch of a mother," he said with a disgusted tone and a repulsive snarl.

Reid had learned by now that it was best to keep his mouth shut, but an insult to his mother was more than he could take without a fight. "She may be a paranoid schizophrenic but she always supported me with school an did her best for me! She's a good mother!"

"Yeah, and I give a shit." The senior agent grabbed Spencer by the neck and pushed him against the wall. He held tight enough to restrict his airway but not tight enough to cut it off completely.

"Let go of my neck you son of a bitch!"

"You are the son of the bitch! Any woman who pops a weak little fag like you out of her cunt can't be anything but worthless."

Reid didn't have a chance to retort before Gideon's hand tightened around his neck, and soon after he began to slip away.

. . . . . . . . . .

It wasn't that Reid didn't trust Garcia; he did. She was, after all, the one who had saved him from the nightmare of being tortured for eight years.

That was almost six months ago, during which time Reid had been working from home doing e-mail consultations. Now after almost half a year, he was going back to the field, joining a team of people he had never met and who knew nothing of the horrors committed against him by the old team. He wanted to believe Garcia, but after all these months the pain still felt fresh in his mind making it impossible to believe that a new team wouldn't be the same as the old one.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Follow through! Follow through you little brat, is it that fucking difficult for you to fire a damn gun!"

The back of Aaron Hotchner's hand collided with his face again. With in seconds Reid tasted the salty, metallic tang of his own blood in his mouth.

"I'm sorry sir, I-"

"Shut up!"

Hotch's fist in his gut made him double over and struggle for breath.

"Do you realize how it makes me look if one of my agents can't pass his firearms qualification after three sorry attempts? It makes me look like an idiot, and I am tiered of being humiliated because of a prick like you!"

He could barely breath, let alone reply, a fact that he reasoned was probably for the best. His breath caught in his chest preventing him from screaming out in agony when his unit chief's knee made brutal contact with his groin.

. . . . . . . . . .

Garcia and Reid stopped just outside the doors to the bullpen. Garcia looked into Reid's shifting eyes and offered a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry. Everything will be okay."

Generic words that everyone uses when they are left with nothing else to say.

Reid desperately hoped that for once in his life they would be true.

TBC