Disclaimer: the fact that I even need a disclaimer should full point out that I don't own, nor claim to own, Criminal Minds.
He turned a corner. His footsteps echoed through the dark streets as he sauntered along. Left, right, left, right, left, right. Do you know how many steps the average person takes in a lifetime? 136,875,000. 136,875,000 steps. But, he supposes, people who are murdered don't really qualify as "average." Then again, neither does he.
He has an IQ of 187, three PhDs, two B.A.s, and an eidetic memory. He graduated high school at twelve. These make him an outside-proclaimed freak, which he can't change, and also make him vulnerable. It allows him to logic everything out, and find its real meaning, or why people believe something, or do things. And if it's logical then he can't hold it against them, because it makes him care, and in all honesty, he's been there. He won't hold you to it if it is illogical either, though, because it's just not within his nature, but he will question it. And in his opinion, all of this makes him weak. It makes him wonder how many steps someone like him will get to walk.
There are only two reasons that he joined the FBI. One, of course, was that he cared about people, innocent or not, and the other was simply because he found it intriguing. Puzzle after puzzle, it all just challenged his mind, and it seemed as if one of the only things able to. These made him love his job, but he still wasn't Federal-bureau-of-investigation material. Holding a gun was one of his biggest obstacles as it was, and combined with his minor lack of self-control, it failed to surprise him when he was removed from the case due to his apparent "bias," which is what spurred this walk in the first place. But were not going to get into that just yet.
He noticed a bench just a bit farther up from where he currently was, and he would have strung off to it already, that is, if he didn't recognize the person who was planted firmly there. He remained completely stilled just a few feet behind said bench as his eyes, which had perceivably widened, grazed over the man who had cost him the faith of not only his team, but quiet possibly his mother.
"Spencer, do you still believe in sitting? Because I think it'd best for you to join me."
Authors note: Aww poor Reid, although I do love when he gets hurt, I hate having to be the one to do it What do you think guys? Should I continue?