After-Life

Morgan locked eyes with Reid from across the row. The jet was mostly silent, Prentiss sat diagonally behind Rossi, and another row behind her was JJ. Hotch was still processing paperwork.

The older agent took this as his grand chance to corner Reid. "You know there's got to be a reason you…"

Reid looked up from his book and glared, "A reason for what? Why I didn't tell my friend who isn't exactly religious about that experience or was there a grand purpose to my dying in a shed?"

"Harsh, man." Morgan offered. Reid turned the page, then after another second, turned it again. "Did you ever think it was because you were high as a kite and realized that was what you were 'supposed to see' when you die? You already had all the life-experience flashbacks."

If the entirety of Reid's person hadn't bushed out exactly mimicking a furious tom-cat, Hotch wouldn't have come over. He knew Reid had brought it up with Morgan before, the Henkel case, but beyond that and conversations in regards to aftermath… it just wasn't something Reid brought up. And yet, in the last month he'd done so more than once.

Hotch would have called that a good sign, progress that the younger man had finally come to terms with the horrible happening.

"Actually, my thoughts on the matter, from the literature, was that my brain had actually shut down as I died. Neurologists have studied the 'death and back' phenomenon, apparently it's not the 'ER lights and Emergency Technicians'…" He had said in an offensive, bitten tone as he copied Morgan's phrase. "No, actually, it has more to do with the neurons loss of sugars to process and the default image it goes through is the tunnel-vision. The rest is thought to be psychological hand-holding, just like when you dream about smoke when your mom would burn eggs when you slept in as a kid. Dreams just fill in what they need to in order to bridge the conscious-gap. And yet… for millennia, people could still believe in something behind that. That those processes are supposed to comfort us in our last moments, thanks for helping me understand that I only had that experience because I was 'high as a kite' you asshole."

Reid stood up and turned in time to spot Hotch fill in his seat.

"I'm getting a coffee." He muttered, flustered, as he walked to the front of the jet. He probably would have better luck with Rossi, Prentiss and JJ 'not profile' Rossi. At least they would genuinely not ask him about that.

Morgan blinked at where Reid sat, and where Hotch currently sat. "Morgan, I'm not going to tell either of you to apologize, despite what the team might think, I'm not your mother. I will say this, though. Reid has brought up the Henkel case exactly twice in three weeks. I'd like to think it's for a positive reason and I'd prefer to keep it on a road of recovery and not a spiral, so don't push it again." He stood up and returned to the coffee-pot.

Morgan let out a sigh and shook his head. Sure he had pressed a button, but he thought it was a valid reason. Reid was the one who flew off the handle, then again, he guessed that was the one place Reid had the right to fly off the handle if broached in a subject. Just like Morgan could get pissed off at cop-killers and child-molesters like Buford.

Coffee was good, the coffee their pilot kept stocked was the kind of good hymns were dedicated to. The brunette hovered around the pot even with his first cup poured and half-depleted. After he finished it off he poured a new cup. He turned to spot Hotch as he stood silently behind him as a human shield.

"Reid…"

"I'm not apologizing to him. He crossed a line and a personal boundary." He took another sip.

"Well, then I'll apologize, because I'm about to cross the same personal boundary. Spencer, do you feel up to talk about it now?"

"About it? Which it, Aaron? You know there are certain things I can't talk to you about because of professional boundaries."

"And the jet isn't where we'd have that conversation, I know that, but that isn't what I'm talking about. Spencer, are you ready to talk about what really happened with Henkel? What he did to you over those two days?"

Reid shivered, somehow the cabin had iced over.

"I probably won't ever be ready to give a blow-by-blow pardon the pun. I gave my disposition… I've been cleared for the field… I don't know why you suddenly want more than that, Hotch."

"That's exactly why I didn't ask those things, as your boss I don't have that right and there was no reason to push that on you, it would've only hurt you. But… I'd like to think I can understand you deeper than work with all we've been through."

Reid held back the comment on the tip of his tongue, he knew it wasn't meant for Aaron, he was just on-edge.

"I love you, and I want to understand what happened to you if it means I could help you more. Those two days effected everyone on the team, it took something from all of us… And we all know some of what you went through, but the rest of it… we tried to put blinders on back then because you were always so private. And it was a mistake on some parts, Gideon and mine specifically… to leave you alone to deal with… some of the after-effects. It was unfair to you, but I won't repeat that mistake. If you're ready to talk or need to, or want to, I'll hang up my Hotch-tie and it'll be between you and I as Spencer and Aaron, and I won't breathe word of it against you."

"Maybe, Aaron, maybe I can take you up on that offer some day… but it's not something I'm going to plan a movie date or dinner around." He pressed his back against the wall, Aaron put a hand on his shoulder.

"Spencer, today you helped save the lives of three people, and who knows how many others. Tonight, when you go to sleep, I hope that's the thought you're left with. Not why you knew it, but that what you knew saved them."

"I can think of a sure-fire way to have a good night sleep… if you're interested, let me know when I should swing by tonight." Reid gave a coy smile and walked away back to the bench. He gave Morgan a heated glare.

He momentarily debated the merits of having Morgan's home line and answering machine fill up with applied mathematic theories. Three hours or so of recording would suffice. He smiled at his friend which made the man suddenly less comfortable.

End.