"Why?"
It was the one question that crossed his mind, as he was rendered speechless by the stares of everyone on the team. Everyone's expressions mirrored the same emotions: fear, concern, and anguish.
"It's…what is best for you," Hotchner started slowly, "and we all see the pain in your eyes -"
"Of course there is pain in my eyes!" Reid erupted. Everyone flinched at his sudden outburst. "Maeve died right in front of me! Am I supposed to mask everything from you guys and pretend that I'm fine?!"
"No…but that is exactly what you are doing without even realizing it," Blake spoke softly, placing a gentle hand on Reid's shoulder, "and that is what concerns us. We see beyond this mask you put on and the pain retained inside of you…and you aren't letting us in."
"Maybe because this is one of those things I choose to keep to myself. We all have those, don't we? It's called privacy, which is so hard to keep around here," Reid snapped.
"But this?" Morgan shook his head. "This is eating you up inside…it's consuming you, and you know it, man. This isn't just something to hold within you and allow passing over. What you went through was traumatic and you need to talk to someone."
"Oh, and you sure are one to talk when it comes to opening up about trauma, Morgan!" Reid spat out. An immediate tension rose in the air, as an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Garcia, wide-eyed and teary, stiffly held onto Morgan's arm to prevent any possible confrontation. Morgan stared at Reid with restrained anger, jaw set and hands tightened into fists.
Reid breathed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He knew all too well that he crossed the line
"I-I'm sorry," Reid whispered, "that was unnecessary…"
His eyes drifted to the floor, the shame building up as he felt a lump gather in his throat. "I just…miss her so much. Sometimes I feel like she is still here…like I can hear her laugh ringing in my ears, or the way that she would joke with me if I said something silly but wouldn't make me feel embarrassed that I said it. And then…that feeling passes as quickly as she was taken from me."
And that confession was what broke down the floodgates, those spoken words that completely tore Spencer Reid apart into a mess of tears on the floor.
Everything that he strove for, the display of emotional detachment and pent up walls, crumbled around his feet. He could feel the pitiful stares burn into his back, as he remained crumpled on the ground, face buried in his own hands as the tears continued to flow. This was the most he had ever spoken of her ever since that harrowing night, and he didn't have a sliver of strength left to even keep a straight face or stand upright. Hell, this was more grief than what he even expressed by himself.
He soon felt a pair of arms gently enclose him into a comforting embrace.
"If you can't talk to us about this…then please, talk to someone," Blake murmured. "We love you and it hurts us to see you being consumed by this. You need to grieve, Spencer, and I trust this woman to help you."
Reid buried his face into Blake's shoulder, shaking with sobs. The past months spent repressing this pain only surged back in tenfold, sweeping him into a violent storm of anguish and sorrow. He knew from the beginning that this was all too much for him to handle, but his pride refused to accept it until now.
His breathing set into uneven gasps for air, as he felt the stronger embrace of various arms around him. It dawned on him that everyone had moved to the floor, joining Blake in encompassing him in a firm embrace.
In spite of the undeniable love the team felt for one another, public displays of it were rare as everyone retained professionalism. It was occasional moments like this that displayed the true bond that they shared not only as a team, but also as a family…and that only intensified Reid's sobs. He simply couldn't fathom how they could still care and accept him in spite of the withdrawn and hostile attitude he knew he had been emitting ever since Maeve's death.
"I n-need help," he cried. And for the first time in months, Spencer Reid did not feel alone and helpless.