Garcia pulled a paper cup from the stack before placing it beneath the spigot and pressing down on the lever.

"Hey, Penelope."

Garcia jumped, dropping the half-filled cup and spilling water all over the floor. "Oh, damn it!"

"I'm so sorry!" Her colleague, Spencer Reid, shuffled across the small room to grab a few paper towels. "Here, I'll clean it up." He went down onto his hands and knees and began sopping up the water with the paper towels. At the edge of the puddle was a small capsule, half of it green and half of it white. He dropped the paper towel and picked it up. "Fluoxetine hydrochloride…" he mumbled.

Garcia's eyes widened and she turned to look down at the young doctor, on the floor, holding her medication between his index finger and thumb.

"Fluoxetine is a Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor…" He turned to Garcia and smirked before adding, "Antidepressant."

She nodded. "I know. It's…it's mine."

"Yeah, it's used to treat quite a few things, actually—most commonly depression, but many OCD patients are prescribed fluoxetine as well, as are people with various anxiety and eating disorders. It's the third most commonly prescribed antidepressant. Prozac is the now-generic term, but its other tradenames include Sarafem and Fontex. It—wait, did you say it was…" His eyebrows knit together as he studied the capsule in his hand. "Yours?" He looked up at her.

"Yeah…it's…I'm…" She sighed, wanting to cry. She'd been on Prozac for three years now, and no one on the team had known. It had been her little secret.

"Is it anxiety? OCD? Depression?"

She swallowed. "The last one."

"Well," he began, pulling himself up and placing the capsule in her palm. "I wouldn't exactly say I didn't expect it. Well, I guess I didn't—you're always so happy… But with everything we see every day…everything we all see…" he trailed off, meeting her eyes.

"Do you…"

"No!" he snapped. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"I wasn't suggesting anything…"

"I'm fine, okay? I'm not crazy…"

He blinked, and she was almost certain she saw tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "Oh, honey. I know you're not."

"I just…I…I won't tell anyone."

She nodded.

"Not like I have anyone to tell," he said, smirking, "except my mom, and she's in a psychiatric institution in Las Vegas…" He returned to the floor to finish cleaning up the spilled water before collecting the now-empty cup, standing up, dropping the soaking paper towels into a trash bin, filling the cup with water from the dispenser and handing it to Penelope.

He watched quietly as she took the cup of water, popped the capsule into her mouth, took a sip of water and swallowed before finishing the water. "It's our secret."

She smiled gratefully and watched as he turned and walked out of the room.