I do not own Criminal Minds.

"We wait and think and doubt and hate. How does it make you feel? The overwhelming feeling is rage. We hate ourselves for being unable to be other than what we are. Unable to be better. We feel rage. The feelings must be followed. It doesn't matter whether you're an ideologue or a sensualist, you follow the stimuli thinking that they're your signposts to the promised land. But they are nothing of the kind. What they are is rocks to navigate the past, each on your brush against, ripping you a little more open and they are always more on the horizon. But you can't face up to the that, so you force yourself to believe the bullshit of those you instinctively know are liars and you repeat those lies to yourself and to others, hoping that by repeating them often and fervently enough you'll attain the godlike status we accord those who tell the lies most frequently and most passionately. But you never do, and even if you could, you wouldn't value it, you'd realise that nobody believes in heroes any more. We know that they only want to sell us something we don't really want and keep from us what we really do need. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe we're getting in touch with our condition at last. It's horrible how we always die alone, but no worse than living alone."

-Irvine Welsh, Fifth

It was the job of a supervisory agent to notice when any one of his subordinates seemed even the slightest bit off. So when Hotch noticed some odd behavior from one of his best, albeit his youngest, agents, it was odd that he said nothing. He didn't think much of it at first. He'd catch the genius speaking to himself about things totally irrelevant to the matter at hand; notice a few strange responses to questions from his peers, speech drifting off into subject matter that had absolutely nothing to do with anything regarding the situation. He had thought it was just, well, for lack of a better word, just Reid, who had always been quite the eccentric.

But maybe he should have said something. After all, he knew something wasn't right. But he couldn't risk losing one of the best members of his team. The fact of the matter was that they all needed his brilliance, his insight. He was able to see the world in ways they couldn't begin to imagine. But in not saying anything, Hotch had inadvertently put his entire team in danger.

The morning had gone much as it always did. Hotch had gotten up, seen his son Jack off to school, and gone into the office. He wasn't surprised to see the female agents chatting with each other regarding God only knew what. Garcia was joking around with Morgan, and trying to joke around with Rossi. But Reid was sitting off by himself, at least until he saw Hotch. "Hey, can I talk to you?" Spencer asked his supervisor.

"Of course," Hotch nodded. He always encouraged his team to come to him with any concerns. A close-knit group was essential in their line of work. If so much of one of them had an off day, they all had an off day. It was that simple. He led the younger man into his office and took a seat, gesturing for Reid to do the same, which he did. "What's wrong, Reid?" he asked in a tone that most would find cold and uncaring, but those who knew Hotch knew was full of genuine concern.

"I'm being watched," Reid answered in a deadly serious tone. While looking concerned, there was more than a hint of paranoia and suspicion in his eyes, obvious to an experienced profiler. Reid wasn't just convinced he was being watched, he knew he was being watched, and Hotch had a strong feeling that he knew the turn this conversation was about to take.

"By whom?" Hotch asked, making sure to keep his tone calm and even, as he always did. He knew Reid would pick up on Hotch profiling him if he wasn't extremely cautious. He needed to remain nonchalant, especially if the answer he was expecting came up.

"The government," Reid answered as he looked around the room as frantically as Reid could. "They're watching me," he said in a near whisper. "Not just at work. I'm not an idiot, I know I work for them, but they are watching me, Hotch."

"You know that's ridiculous," Hotch responded. He couldn't help but remember the incident in which Reid and Elle were held hostage on that train… It was a typical scenario, he knew that. One of the most common delusions was that a person was being watched by the government. But he also knew that he had to get the younger agent to calm down before he could risk sending him out with the others, if not sending him home. And if he couldn't get Reid out, he needed to get everyone else out, he could easily see the situation becoming violent, no matter who the person before him was.

"But it isn't!" Reid insisted. "They're watching me." He looked over to the side, as if he was seeing someone that no one else could. "But you already knew that, didn't you?!" he accused, raising his voice. "You're a part of this, aren't you?!" There was a flash of betrayal in his eyes. "I trusted you!"

"Reid!" Hotch shouted. He was quickly losing patience with the man. "Listen to what you're saying! No one is watching you!" He tried to casually reach for his phone to alert one of the others.

"What are you doing?" Reid demanded. Hotch cursed under his breath, of course Reid had noticed the subtle movement. He supposed one couldn't have gone through years of severe bullying without noticing things like that. "Who are you calling?"

"Morgan," Hotch called off the first name that came to mind. He hoped that would relax Reid at least a little bit. He knew the two were close. "I think he might be able to help you."

"Morgan?" Reid questioned, softening only slightly. "You're just saying that so I won't do anything!"

"I will put him on speaker if you want," Hotch responded evenly. He didn't want to agitate Reid further. "I think you need to go home, but I'm not sending you home alone in this state of mind. You two seem to get a long well, he seemed like the right choice."

"I don't need to go home!" Reid shouted. "I'm fine," he said in a forced calm manner.

"No," Hotch argued. "You aren't. You need to go home. I'm sending Morgan with you. I can call him, or we can go and get him. But I will only let us go out and get him if I can be sure you won't, in any way, agitate anyone. Can I trust you to stay calm long enough to leave?"

"I already said I'm calm," Reid responded. He reluctantly allowed his supervisor to lead him out of the office and into the bullpen. He looked around at the people he was so familiar with, but they all seemed so… Different. They all seemed more suspicious, much more suspicious.

"Morgan," Hotch said as he approached the man. "I need you to take Reid home. Don't leave him alone, understood?"

Morgan frowned at that statement. "Everything okay?" he asked, though he already knew the answer to that. Hotch never sent anyone home without good reason.

"He just needs some time away," Hotch answered carefully. The last thing he needed was another outburst from the doctor. "Call me if anything happens, got it?"

"Got it," Morgan sighed before walking over to his friend. "Come on, pretty boy, let's go," he said, already leading Reid away from the group.

"Where are you taking me?" Spencer demanded as he tried to get some distance between him and the other man.

"Home, remember?" Morgan said. "Hotch's orders." Something was definitely not right.

Spencer glared at his friend. "You're conspiring with him, aren't you?!" he demanded loudly. Several of his team members turned to look at the scene. "You're all out to get me, aren't you?!"

"Reid, man, no one is trying to hurt you," Morgan tried to reason with him. "We're worried about you, okay? That's it." He put his hand on Reid's shoulder, but the younger man backed up immediately.

"Touch me again, and I swear to God I'll blow this place up," the younger man threatened.

Hotch supposed that moment was when he realized what had really seemed off about the young man. Outbursts like this had happened before, though never to this extent. He felt like an idiot for not noticing it sooner. Reid had been planning this. It wasn't some new conspiracy theory. He had suspected them of watching him for a long time, longer than Hotch had assumed. But it was an empty threat, wasn't it? Reid wasn't armed… "You're bluffing."

"I'm not," Reid argued. He pulled something that looked much too real. This was happening. But Hotch couldn't see where they had gone wrong. He didn't see how Reid had gotten through the security checkpoints he had to go through to merely get into the building. They were all trained FBI agents, yet none of them had noticed something that should have stuck out from the start. Not one of them had noticed the bomb under Reid's shirt.

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
-Norman Cousins