A/N: Yeah I lied, this isn't rated M or smutty. That one's in progress, but this plot bunny didn't just attack, it buried itself in my brain and refused to leave. Its not the same universe as my others, realistically, Spencer Reid won't develop schizophrenia, the peak age for males to develop it is around 28. He seems to be in the clear, so I don't want it in my usual universe story line. =] Plus it makes me sad. But anyway. Enjoy! I know it's short.
Spencer rolled a large coin over his knuckles, normally he'd be using it to show off a magic trick, but he was far too tense to be able to pull off the sleight of hand properly. Instead he just looked around, waiting for Emily. He had to talk to her, she was the only one he could trust enough to tell, and he had to tell her.
He was in the park, sitting on a bench next to a rather large young man, who kept sniveling and rubbing his nose. Not at all attractive, and unconsciously Spencer edged away, trying to put as much space between him and the man as he could. Looking up, his face broke into a delighted smile as he saw Emily walking up. She smiled and waved and sat down next to him.
"You wanted to talk?" Emily didn't bother with formalities, he had called her there for a reason, and there would be no point in prolonging the inevitable. Spencer just nodded, resting his elbow on the arm of the bench. "Are you going to start, or is this a guessing game?" There was no malice in her teasing, only badly concealed curiosity.
"Yeah, um," Spencer fidgeted, rolling the coin over his knuckles again. "I don't think I can hide it anymore, Emily. I've been worried about this since I was six, it's passed genetically. It wasn't a matter of if, just when."
"When what? What are you talking about?" Emily frowned slightly, unsure of what he was talking about. She had an idea, but she wasn't one to leap to conclusions. Better to ask questions. She reached out, a hand casually but comfortingly placed on his arm.
"I'm seeing people, Emily. People who aren't really there. I'm schizophrenic, just like my mother. It's only a matter of time before I have to be committed," he finally spoke the words aloud.
"But you know they're not there," Emily replied simply.
"Well yes, they're always wearing the same clothes, they speak with the same speech pattern, just different tones, and nobody gets any older," Spencer waved off Emily's response. "I have to tell Hotch, and I don't know what to say to him, I suppose I'll have to resign from the BAU too, but I don't know if I have to do that yet. I don't want to be put in Bennington like my mother, maybe a nice place here in DC, you guys don't have to visit, but it would be nice," he babbled on.
"Spencer, you're not listening to yourself are you?" Emily nearly rolled her eyes. "Spencer, if you can differentiate between your hallucinations and real people, then whats the problem? If you know they're not real, you can ignore them," she couldn't help but point out. "They're inconsequential; they don't have to be as real as reality. If you can separate them initially, you can keep them separate.
Emily had never seen the boy genius so lost for words.