Prologue: The Note Left Behind
"Anguish of mind has driven thousands to suicide; anguish of body, none."
C. C. Colton
The day began like any other day. It was cold, the brisk air of autumn cutting through his jacket so that he had to pull it closer to his body and tug at the violet scarf tied around his slender neck. He wasn't running late, per say, but he had wanted to be there early.
Dr. Spencer Reid rushed into the bullpen that early morning, giving an awkward wave towards Emily Prentiss, who had looked up upon his arrival. "In a hurry, Reid?" she called to him.
"Not overly, just making sure I wasn't late."
"When are you ever?" she grumbled, turning back to the paperwork that was piled before her. They had just returned from a particularly long case in which had made her suddenly look forward to the hopeful vacation they should be receiving for the Christmas holiday. She wasn't going to count on it until she was well out of contact though. "Oh, Reid?" she called suddenly, noticing the younger agent walking quickly towards Hotch's office. "Hotch has Strauss and someone else in there with him. He said to stay out for a bit."
"Oh," the young genius said with an uncertainty lacing his voice. "He had said he wanted these-" he held up the small stack of files he had had tucked under his arm- "first thing this morning…"
"Something came up he wasn't expecting," Rossi answered from behind.
Prentiss and Reid both turned to look at the elder man. He stood at the edge of the bullpen, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed in worry. Something was deeply troubling him.
"Do you know who the third person in there is, Rossi?"
"This is a nosy team," David answered with a laugh. "And yes, I do."
"But you're not going to tell us," Emily grumbled.
A smile perked Rossi's lips and he shook his head slowly. This team had grown on him quickly, he had to admit. They had seemed off – the whole idea of a team at all for the BAU had seemed off at first if he were honest with himself – when had had first met them, but now he felt as if he had somehow been accepted into this tight knit family. He wondered what the young man inside Hotch's office would represent to his new family.
"Jason Gideon's son," he answered at length.
"Gideon's son?" Reid echoed, dark eyes growing wide. "Maybe he knows where he went. Why would he be here?"
"Slow down there, Reid," Emily advised as she put a hand on his shoulder. "We don't know what he's here for. It must be something big if Strauss is in there too."
"You don't think something happened to him, do you?" No one could deny how much like a small child Reid sounded just at that moment.
"I think we're about to find out," Rossi answered as the door opened and Strauss stepped out, followed by a young man about Reid's age and build. He shook Hotch's hand and gave a sad smile, his dark hair falling into his eyes and he making no move to shake it away. He seemed to feel the three sets of eyes on him from the bullpen and looked their way.
"It's been a good long while, but you look well," Rossi said as he strode up towards the young man. "Do you remember me?"
A small smile perked the young man's features. "David Rossi. How could I forget? What brought you back? You should have retired ages ago."
"Are you calling me old now?" Rossi joked back.
"Of course not."
"What brings you all the way to Quantico, son?"
The boy dipped his head slightly and his shoulders dropped. "I wish it were better circumstances, I really do. He and I were just getting back to talking again, and now… I never saw it coming."
"Did something happen to Gideon?" Reid asked suddenly, eyes wide and feet moving him closer to his mentor's son before he even knew they were.
"You must be Spencer," the other said without hesitation. "Dad told me all about you. Brilliant, he said. I think he thought of you like another son. I'm sorry that I have to be the one to tell you…"
"W-what happened?"
Gideon's son reached deep into his pants pocket and pulled out a single leaf of paper. He handed it over to Reid who scanned it with his brilliant speed. Dark eyes widened and he read it over and over, looking for some misunderstanding. "That's… not possible," he said slowly.
"What is it?" Prentiss demanded as she plucked the paper from Reid's hands. "My word… Gideon… committed suicide?"
"I hardly believe it myself, but it's all right there," Hotch said slowly, hurt evident in his normally steely voice. He turned his attention back to the remaining Gideon. "You say that his body was not in the same place that the letter was?"
"No," the young man answered slowly. "But I can't imagine that he is alive with that put down on paper."
"You mean, you can't even bury him?" Emily asked in horror.
"We'll find him," Hotch promised them. "Reid?"
The young genius had not moved since Prentiss had taken the paper from his hands. His eyes remained fixated where the paper had been, as if he were still reading the words there. His face was paler than usual, drawn and clammy looking. He shook visibly.
"Reid."
"Huh?" Reid asked with a jump as Hotch's hand came crashing down on his shoulder, jolting him out of his stupor.
"Go home."
"But work…."
Hotch's look said what words didn't. Everyone knew Reid was in no condition to work at that moment, and he didn't want to be around when the news had to be relayed to Morgan – not an experience to look forward to – and should simply take advantage of the sick time that he had built up so nicely and go home.
He couldn't remember walking out the door. He couldn't remember getting into his old, beaten up car and driving back to his apartment. None of it was clear to his eidetic memory. All he knew was that he turned the key in the lock and the door swung open, but past that was all darkness, and that, as if nothing else had ever been so, was a welcomed relief.
A/N: Strange beginning, I know. I know where I'm going with this, and the beginning was going to be the hardest to write. This is my first Criminal Minds story to really work on, and I like the idea, so please let me know if you do as well. I should have the next chapter written and published tomorrow, but for now I'm going to bed.
TS
