AN: I DON'T OWN CM. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO CBS AND JEFF DAVIS. IF I OWNED CM, REID WOULD BE HAPPY.

"I became insane... with long intervals of horrible sanity."

-Edgar Allan Poe

The metro smells like dirty socks. People line every inch of the train car, making moving around impossible. An elderly man sits reading the paper. A mother sits holding her toddler in her arms. The little girl catches the eye of Dr. Reid, who looks up from his book, and the two seem to lock gazes. He stares at her for a few minutes, and the toddler begins laughing uncontrollably. Her mother looks at her little girl in bewilderment. She catches her little girl staring back at Dr. Reid who is smiling at the girl in a funny way.

When it's time for him to get off, he looks back at the little girl once more, and she waves. Waving back, he smiles as he turns, and lets his taped up, beaten down—favorite—pair of Converse hit the sidewalk.

He passes all sorts of people on his way to his favorite coffee shop. A couple holding hands, wearing coats to keep out the frigid air. The man is smiling, the girl beside him just as happy. Reid's heart breaks just a little when he sees them. He quickly walks away.

He passes a mother pushing a stroller. The little boy throws his teddy bear on the ground. Reid stops, picks it up, and hands it to the little boy's mother.

"Thank you," the very tired looking mother says.

"No problem," Reid says in "his" way.

"Maybe now he'll sleep, and I'll finally be able to get some shut-eye myself."

"Good luck with that," Reid says in an unassuming way.

Downtown DC. Cars are whooshing by—so many that their lights have molded into one color. After hoping off the metro, Dr. Reid, book in his left hand, walks into the coffee shop 3 blocks from Quantico. Walking, three blocks out of the way for coffee might seem egregious to some, but not to Dr. Reid. He loves coffee as much as he loves knowledge. He'd rather walk the three blocks for a good cup of coffee than drink the F.B.I. sludge that they call coffee.

The coffee shop is teeming with people. The small, quaint shop is full of warmth. The beige walls lit with lots of small tea lights create a soothing atmosphere. The sweet smell of the brewing coffee, and the steam from the coffee brewer hits Reid as soon as he walks through the door. The sound of the espresso machine, of the sound when the cashier puts the whipped cream in the cup, the smile she has when she hands customers their coffee and they hand her this month's rent. The tables are almost filled with people.

Spencer Reid is standing in line. He's the third one in line. When it's his turn, he pays for his coffee and receive the same smile the 2 in front of him did. He takes his coffee and moves to the granite counter. He removes the lid, and stirs his coffee. He tastes it and almost spits out the hot mixture. He's heaping mounds of sugar to his coffee when a voice behind him makes him instinctively reach for his weapon.

"Spencer Reid."

Slowly, he turns to face the voice. Surprised, "Elizabeth?"

"Yep. It's me," Elizabeth says. She stands there holding her coffee in one hand, a book in the other. Her long brown hair frames her face nicely, and her brown eyes keep Reid's gaze.

"How have you been?" Reid asks curious.

"I've been okay," she pauses. "So how many PhD's do you have now, like a billion ?"

Reid laughs. "A few. So what are you doing?"

"I just opened my own practice actually. I specialize in rare diseases." She moves to an empty table with Reid following suit. "So, are you still an F.B.I. agent?"

"Yeah. For like seven years."

"Well, I hate to cut our visit short, but I have to finish unpacking. Maybe if you're not busy tomorrow night, I can take you to dinner. I know a great Indian restaurant." Elizabeth sighs.

"Sure. I'd love too, if a case doesn't come up," he says smiling.

"Cool. Here's my number," she scrawls it down and hands it to him.

"I'll call you or you call me."

"We'll be in touch."

"I look forward to it," he says. He really is looking forward to it.
_

Reid walks into the B.A.U with a smile. Morgan ambushes him.

"Pretty Boy, what's got you so happy?"

"I ran into an old friend of mine after 7 years, and we hit it off. We are going to dinner tomorrow night to catch up."

Aaron Hotchner walks into the bullpen. " Everybody has the next 2 days off. Go home. Get some rest."

"Cool," Morgan says. "Hey, Hotch."

"Yeah, Morgan?"

"Look at Reid."

They both turn to look at Reid.

"He's happy," Hotch says amazed.

"He ran into an old friend today."

"It's good to see him smile again."

"She may be the one for him, Hotch."

"Morgan, give him time to heal."
_

Back in his apartment, Reid sits down with the coffee that he made and Chaucer. It's 8:00 A.M. The sun has just begun to rise over the horizon. Reid gets up from his old couch and walks over to the window where he opens the curtains. He looks around. This place needs some up dating, he thinks to himself. He makes a mental note to ask Morgan if he'd like to help him renovate.

He picks up his phone and hears the ringing of the other line. Pick up.

Elizabeth jumps up from her bed when she hears her phone, and begins to dig for it in the mess of unpacked boxes. "Hello?," she asks.

"Hi, Lizzie. I hope I didn't wake you," Reid says warmly.

"No, you didn't wake me," Elizabeth says happily as she sits on her old couch and runs her hand through her hair.

"I was just calling about tonight," he begins.

"If you can't I completely understand," Elizabeth quickly says.

"So what time do you want to meet," Reid says assuaging her heart.

She breathes a sigh of relief. Reid notices, but doesn't let on.

"Will 7 work for you?" She asks.

"Sounds good. Well, I guess I'll see you at 7," he says not wanting to hang up.

"Alright, " she says not wanting to hang up either, "well, bye." she says awkwardly.

"Bye," he says.

Elizabeth sighs and lays her head back on her couch. Her day has just gotten better. Spencer is going to dinner with her tonight. She makes her way to the window where she throws open the curtains that were left there by the previous owner. She basks in the warmth of the sun. She moves to the corner where all the boxes are piled up, and she begins to go through one of them. She begins putting the contents away. Walking down the hall, to her room, she makes a mental note to get paint. The dark, brown colored walls won't do. Too dark.

Spencer smiles as he got off the phone. He's happy for the first time in a long time. He can't control the butterflies in his stomach. He remembers how easy it is—almost as easy as breathing—with Elizabeth. He gets her, she gets him. It's so natural.
_

The street seems empty except for the occasional car. Walking a few blocks, Spencer steps over the crack in the sidewalk. He arrives at the restaurant. The chipped brick and trees with lights look weird for an Indian restaurant. Reid is standing outside the restaurant waiting. He's dressed in dress pants with a nice white button up shirt with a coat on and his purple bow tie. The clip-clop of heels catches he's attention.

He stands there with his mouth a-gape. Elizabeth approaches him wearing a beautiful knee length purple dress. Her hair is pulled back into a bun with little wisps that frame her heart shaped face.

"Spencer, close your mouth," she says giggling.

"You just look so beautiful."

"You don't look so bad yourself."

They sit in the crowded restaurant talking and laughing. The soft lighting and the Indian music give it a warm feel. The restaurant isn't claustrophobic, but their is a fair amount of people.

Curious, Elizabeth asks, "So, anyone special in your life?"

Reid takes a very deep breath before speaking. "There was. She was killed by an unsub."

"Oh, God. I'm sorry." Her face looks shocked and sad.

"What about you?"

"Iraq. 2008," she says trying not to cry.

"Sorry."

"You need a ride?" He asks.

"I'd hate to impose."

"No problem. I'm not letting you take a cab home."

"Well, I took one here," Elizabeth laughs. "Fine."

He opens the passenger side door and takes her hand, helping her in. He goes around to the driver side puts the key in the ignition, and looks before darting into the road.

"We need to get you a car," he begins, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I have one," she protests.

"One that is a hunk of junk. It got you to DC than died."
_

Elizabeth and Reid stand outside his apartment.

"I had fun," Elizabeth says blushing.

"Me too. For the first time in a long time," Reid says. "Would you like to come in?"

"Sure," she says like a giddy girl on Christmas.

Spencer opens the door. He walks in, followed by Elizabeth. He shuts and locks the door behind them.

"Wow, Spence, I love what you've done with the place," she says sarcastically.

"Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Tea?" Spencer asks on his way into his kitchen.

"You know I love it," she replies. She walks over to his bookshelf. She remembers reading all of these books. The one that catches her eye is the one bound in a soft, brown leather. She grabs it, and sits on the couch.

Spencer comes and sits beside her.

"You still have this?" She asks.

"Yeah. Do you remember?"

"Of course. " She begins flipping the pages. The book is full of pictures of Spencer and Elizabeth from when they were kids. She stops on a picture of them in the park.

"Remember this one?" she asks. She looks back at the picture.

Elizabeth, Spencer, and Ethan, their best friend, were in the park. They played in this park everyday so they were used to the Las Vegas humidity. Other kids were running around playing. Spencer, Ethan, and Elizabeth were playing tag. Ethan's mom was there, watching the children play. She rummaged through her bag to find her camera. She tried to get them to stand still so she could take their picture.

Elizabeth is on the right smiling, Spencer's in the middle with this goofy grin plastered to his face, and Ethan is on the left, looking at his two best friends.

The screaming kettle brings her back to the present. Spencer goes to get the tea while she closes the photo album and sets it on the coffee table.

"Here you are," Spencer says handing her the tea.

"Thanks."

He sits back down on the couch, tea in hand.

"Spence," Elizabeth begins.

"Yes, Lizzie?"

"You remember when we were younger and we used to sit and see how similar our lives were?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I don't know," she says, face grim. "Forget I brought it up."

They sip their tea in silence. When her's is gone, she gets up,

Looking at her watch, "Spence, it's late. I have to work in the morning." She doesn't want to leave.

Spencer looks disappointed. "Well, let me show you out."

"Call you tomorrow?" she asks hopeful.

"You'd better," he says playfully.

She kisses him on the cheek. He sighs as he watches her walk away.

Elizabeth walks into her apartment. She sighs and sets her stuff down on the kitchen counter. She looks at all the boxes left to unpack, and slips out of her heels. She can't help but smile as she thinks of earlier that night. How happy she was for the first time in forever.

Reid slips his shoes off and settles in for bed.

"No! Please, you don't have to do this," Spencer Reid begs. It is his second day of captivity and he knows the end of his life is almost near.

He sits in the shanty, rickety, old chair in the cold, desolate shack. His hands are bound in front of him in a way that begs him to "go for it." Though the vertigo has almost set in, Reid notices the stench that burns his nose hairs. The smell of the burning fish hearts and livers penetrated the deep recesses of his conscious mind hours ago, but it is still unbearable. His mind literally aches, and he stopped thinking awhile ago. All sense of time has been erased, and as the blood oozes from his head, so does his hope of being rescued.

The man in the trench coat circles him. Reid isn't sure who he is: Charles, Raphael, or Tobias. The man mumbles to himself.

"Tobias?" Reid asks.

"Yeah?" Tobias responds.

"It's you."

Tobias gives a small chuckle. "Who were you expecting?"

But Reid doesn't answer. When Tobias approaches him, and pulls off his belt, Reid's heart is in his throat. He gulps, and prepares for the needle prick. Tobias takes out the needle and the vial, and looks pleadingly into Reid's eyes as he plunges it into Reid's right arm.

Reid spasms in the chair before he throws his head back and lets the vertigo consume him.

After the next injection, Reid begins foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. His eyes roll back into his skull. Tobias kicks the chair over.

"Tobias, help me," Reid pleads. But Hankel just stands there. He watches as Reid' s seizure grows and he smiles as the darkness consumes Reid. He's no longer Tobias. He's Raphael.

Reid jolts awake in his bed. He's drenched in sweat and his head's splitting. Groaning, he looks at his clock. 3:00 A.M . Fantastic, he thinks to himself.

He stretches, rubs his eyes, and gets out of bed. Sighing, he goes into his living room. He selects a book, sits on his couch, and begins reading.

Slamming the book down, he grabs his head in pain. He can't take these headaches. At first, he thought they were just the by-product of everything that had happened lately, but as time went on, he began to believe they were because of schizophrenia.

He awakes to the sun hitting his face—he had fallen asleep on his couch—he opens his eyes, basking in the warmth. A smile on his face, he checks the time.

"Hello?" the husky voice on the other end of the line asks.

"Morgan, it's Reid. Are you busy today?"

"No, why?"

"Well, I want to renovate my apartment, but I know nothing about renovating, and I'd probably end up cutting my leg off or something if I tried."

"Okay, Pretty Boy. How bout we meet at 1p.m.? Will that work?"

"I'll be there. Where exactly?" Reid asks, confused.

"The local hardware store. The one on Main." Morgan says laughing at Reid.