Disclaimer/Author's Note: I do not own these characters or this universe. I am not making any money off this piece.
Feedback is always appreciated. I know it's been a while since this was published, but I'd still love to hear your thoughts.
"You okay, Blake?" Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan inquired of his colleague. SSA Dr. Alex Blake was slumped forward in her chair with her head on the desk, giving a whole new meaning to the phrase death warmed over.
"Who, me? Yeah," she said, a little too quickly, picking herself up as best she could. She'd woken up feeling like someone had drained her life-force, and it wasn't going away. She only hoped that they wouldn't get called away on a case. Already today she had gotten out of bed, showered, put on clean clothes, arrived at work, albeit two minutes late, and finished three sheets of paperwork. She didn't think she could handle anything else. She could go home sick, but that would require standing up, walking to SSA Hotchner's office, telling him she was going home, then walking to the parking lot, driving her car fifteen miles to her house, parking the car, and unlocking her front door. Maybe she could just put her head back on her desk …
"Damn depressive episodes," she muttered to her stack of unfinished paperwork. She hadn't had one in several months, and she'd been lulled into believing they were gone for good. She should have known better. Maybe if she could fall asleep, she'd feel better once she woke up. She'd become quite proficient at the art of the desk nap while in graduate school. Alex shifted in her chair and settled her head into the crook of her arm just so. There. Now all she had to do was relax and let sleep come to her.
Alex was just about to doze off when she felt a hand on her back. Damn. She raised her head and looked up into the concerned face of Spencer Reid.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Tired," she replied. It was an understatement. Tired didn't even begin to cover the lead weights on her limbs, the sand in her joints, the blacksmith merrily pounding away in her head. Tired was for children who stayed up past their bedtime. Tired was for students studying for finals. Tired was for people who'd just run marathons. Tired was not a word that could presently be applied to Alex Blake, not by a long shot.
"Um, no disrespect intended, but you look like hell. Maybe you could get someone to drive you home," he suggested. "I'd do it, but I don't have a car.
It wasn't such a bad idea, Alex thought, as the sound of a phone ringing grated at her ears. She could lie in bed for a while, maybe try to read, eat something easy like applesauce or oatmeal. Now that sounded great.
"You know, approximately one in ten Americans suffers from depression," he said. Statistics for all occasions, Alex thought.
"Who says I have depression?" she asked. It wasn't something she liked to make known; it was technically illegal to discriminate, but people did it anyway. She'd lost a job because of it once. Plus she didn't want people treating her differently or making idiotic comments.
"Well, you're displaying all the classic symptoms of a major depressive episode. Lack of energy, short attention span, change in appetite—you're usually finishing your breakfast as you come in to work; today you weren't—loss of interest in activities you previously enjoyed, in this case the morning crossword—"
"Reid," Alex interrupted, wincing and making a turn-down-the-volume motion with her hand. "Shhhh."
"Sound sensitivity," he added, quieter this time. "You really should go home. There's a group of cadets coming through later this afternoon and they're going to be making a lot of noise."
Alex groaned and let her head fall back into the crook of her arm, feeling the soft fabric of her sweater against her forehead. Ah, sweet cashmere.
"Seriously, JJ usually doesn't mind giving me a ride if I've missed the train; you could ask her."
"Fine," Alex conceded, pushing back her chair and standing up. She brushed her hair out of her face, rubbed her temples, and began the journey of a thousand miles to the media liaison's office. The door was open, and Alex could see JJ working at her desk, busily sorting through case files. She softly tapped on the door before stepping in.
JJ looked up. "Something I can do for you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
Alex nodded. "Um, I'm not feeling so great today; do you think you could give me a ride home? I don't live that far away."
"Oh, of course," JJ said, standing up and grabbing her purse and keys. "Go grab your stuff; I'll tell Hotch you'll be gone for the rest of the day."
"Thanks. I owe you, big time."
"Not at all." JJ smiled.
Moving slowly, Alex went back down to the bullpen, put on her coat, and slung her purse over her shoulder. JJ was so sweet, she reflected, always so eager to help, putting others before herself. Which only made Alex feel guilty for being such a burden. Here she was, yanking a colleague away from important work just because she couldn't suck it up and keep her head off the desk.
"Are you ready?" JJ asked, coming up behind Alex and interrupting her train of thought.
"Yeah," said Alex listlessly, and began following JJ to the garage. "You don't have to do this," she added.
"But I want to," said JJ. "Come on, my car's up here. Let me just clear some stuff away and you can sit up front."
Alex waited until JJ had cleared off the front seat, then climbed in and fastened her seat belt. She let her head rest against the window, felt the car start, followed by the soothing hum of the engine. She loosely hugged herself, deriving some semblance of comfort from it. She wished James were home, but he was with Doctors Without Borders in, as he put it, South Sandistan. He always took care of her, held her while she cried, told her it was okay, that she wasn't worthless, and that things would look better in the morning.
"Where do you live?" JJ asked. Alex told her, giving directions as specific as her serotonin-deficient brain would allow. She didn't feel much like talking. She just wanted to curl up under a rock and die.
"Doing okay?" JJ asked. When Alex didn't answer, she said, "Depression can be a real bitch sometimes, right?"
"I hate profilers," Alex groaned. "Reid just diagnosed me fifteen minutes ago and now you."
"It's okay," said JJ. "I won't judge. Hey, is this your house up ahead?"
"Mmh-hmm." Alex nodded. JJ pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, and got out. Alex followed, and let JJ walk her to her door.
"Thanks, JJ," Alex said sincerely, as she unlocked the door. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for," JJ assured her. "It was my pleasure. Now come on; let's get you inside before you freeze out here."
"You don't have to stay," Alex told her. "I've been enough trouble already."
"It's no trouble. Alex, you're sick; it's no different from having the flu. And if you did have the flu, you'd want someone to stay with you and make sure you're alright. So come on; let's go inside."
"Let me guess; you have kids," said Alex drily as she let JJ follow her into her house.
"One. A son. Henry," she said, her face lighting up as soon as she said his name. The two agents took off their coats, and Alex put her keys on the table by the door. Now that her coat was off, she felt vulnerable, as though it had been a protective shell of sorts.
"So what do you usually do when you're having a depressive episode?" JJ asked.
"Sleep it off," Alex replied, eyes drifting longingly towards the staircase that lead to her bedroom.
"Okay, then. Let's get you upstairs." She lead Alex up the staircase to her bedroom. Alex sat down on the bed, managed to take off her shoes, and curled up under the covers, shutting out the world. She felt JJ's hand stroking her hair, heard her voice whispering soothingly.
"It's okay, sweetie, you're going to be fine," she said. "I'm just going to go down to the kitchen and make you something to eat. I noticed you didn't have breakfast today. But I'll be back, okay?"
Alex nodded and hugged herself, feeling slightly better already. This was so much more comfortable than a desk nap, however soft her sweater sleeve might be. And JJ was being so nice, so much nicer than Alex deserved. And she was new to the team, too. She pulled the covers up to her chin and curled up even tighter, trying to doze off. Eventually she fell in to a sort of stupor, not quite asleep, but not awake either, like a laptop going into power saver mode after the battery gets low.
After a while, Alex heard JJ return. She sat up, brushing a lock of brown hair out of her face, and saw the other agent standing at her doorway with a cup of soup in her hands. Alex crossed her legs under her and made room for JJ to sit down beside her.
"You think you can eat this?" JJ asked. Alex nodded and accepted the cup and spoon. In reality, the last thing she wanted to do was eat. Food gave her little pleasure in this state, but she knew she needed the nourishment. She took a spoonful sipped at it to make sure it wasn't too hot. Chicken noodle, she noted. JJ must really think that this was no different from having the flu. Alex almost smiled and took another spoonful. It was good, actually, with just the right amount of salt and noodles. Alex usually prepared her meals in the microwave; it had been a long time since she'd had anything this good. It was easier than she'd expected to finish the soup, and after she was done she could feel the warmth in her mouth and her stomach. Setting the cup and spoon on the bedside table, she turned to JJ.
"Thank you."
"Like I said, it's my pleasure."
"I'm sorry," Alex said again. "I don't mean to be so much trouble—"
"Relax. It's okay," JJ told her. "We can't control these things. Has this been happening a lot lately?" she asked, a note of concern playing across her face.
"No, I haven't had one in months," Alex said. "It started after I took the fall for Strauss on the Amerithrax case. I mean, you pour your heart and soul into your career and then ..."
JJ nodded sympathetically. "Pretty major stressor," she agreed.
"But it's over now," Alex protested. "I've built myself back up; I made it to the BAU; Strauss and I are mending the fences ... so why does this keep happening?"
JJ shook her head. "I don't know. But it's nothing to feel guilty about. Everyone needs to take a sick day once in a while."
Alex only shrugged.
"Is there anything else you need?" JJ asked.
Alex shook her head, and JJ rose to her feet. But Alex felt a sudden pang at the thought of being alone, and grabbed JJ's hand as she stood. JJ looked down at her.
"Do you want me to stay?"
Feeling pathetic, Alex nodded. It was stupid and childish but she just didn't want to be alone, not today.
"Okay." She turned to Alex and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a hug and holding on tight. It occurred to Alex that it had been a very long time since anyone had hugged her, and she never wanted JJ to let go. They sat there for a good long while, and Alex felt warm and safe and protected. She even let herself cry a little. Eventually JJ settled herself on the bed next to Alex and let her lie down, but kept one hand on her shoulder, just to let her know she was there. With warm soup in her stomach and a warm hand stroking her shoulder, Alex Blake fell asleep, knowing that everything would be better in the morning.
