"Other things may change us, but we start and end with family." -Anthony Brandt ***
Spencer Reid, a man of many words; Few actually listen to him. The young genius of the F.B.I has helped save many and continues saving more, but what about him? Who saves the young profiler who knows little about feelings? Where can he get the love he never got from is schizophrenic mother? He is rotting from within, but you can't tell from the outside. The doctors say he may have phscological problems, but he refuses to agree. He says he knows what a phsciatric patient is, and that he is not one. In the back of his mind, he fears it maybe true, but what if it wasn't? What if he could be saved? What if it started with opening up? What if it ment lending his heart to another?
I walked into the presinct, making my way to the elevator. My father said I could sit in on his work today after a rather elaberate fight about him never spending time with me. I'm not sure how we got to the topic because we were originally talking about one of his agents . Apperently, he has been acting rather odd in the past few weeks, but my father couldn't figure out why. My father wouldn't tell me first name, and I figured he was some man in his mid 50's who was friends with me dad.
I press the up button outside the elevator and waited in odd silence alone. Well, that is untill someone coughed rather loudly. I turnned around to see where the cough came from. It came from a young man that looked about my age, maybe 23 or 24. *Ding* My head whipped around, towardsthe elevator as the doors slide open and it emptied. I walked in and went for the buttons. Oh gosh... What was the floor number!? I sat there infront of the buttons, probably looking utterly confused, when someone's arm reached around me, pressing number 4. What was the.. My thoughts were cut off by someones voice.
"Sorry, what?" I turnned to the same young man from before.
"Do you need any help?" He looked down at me, he was probably around 6'3", where as I am 5'3".
"Um, yes... Do you happen to know what floor the BAU is on?"
"That is where I am going," and with that, the doors slide open and he swiftly walked out of the elevator, leaving me standing there like a 5 year old lost in a mall.
I stepped out, looking around for my dad, but the only other person in here was the young man from the elevator. I walked over to the side of his desk.
"Um, excuse me? I don't mean to bother you, but do you know where I could find Aaron Hotchner?" I asked kind of quietly, but he heard me because he lifted his head in response.
"He ran out with the team an hour ago, that is where I can from," His voiced was rushed, obviously trying to figure something out. He pick up a box of files and pulled some out, as he beganto speed read through them.
"Of course! He leaves for a case without calling his own DAUGHTER NOT to bother and come! He always does this! First, my 4th grade dance recitel and now sitting in on his own JOB. What more could he miss of my life!?" I threw my arms up every once in awhile, irritated at my father, while talking aimlessly aloud.
"Well, at least it isn't your graduation," I looked over at the young man that I briefle forgot was there.
"He did miss that. By four years to be exact," I expressed my father's abscence in my life as I pull up a rolling chair from the desk next to his.
"You must be Mini Hotch, Sophia. My name is Spencer Reid," he continued looking through the files in the box.
"YOU are the 'famous' my father was talking about at dinner? I thought you were going to be some hair recseding guy in his mid 50's... Wait! What do you mean by 'Mini Hotch'?" I looked at him with a quizical look, but he ignored me, deciding his work was more important.
"Hey, Pretty Boy! Who's that little lady?" a tall, dark man came in and walked over to the desk next the Spencer's. "Where did my chair go?"
I stood up and shoved it towards his desk.
"Thank you, I'm Derek Morgan," he reached out his hand and I shook it.
"I'm Sophia, Hotch's daughter. Speaking of my father, do you know if he is coming back any time soon?"
As if answering my questions for me, my father walks in. We made eye contact, and his face immediatly flashes with guilt. Ofcourse, I was the only one to be able to see this. I was the only one whoever could decifer my father's emotions.
"Sophia. You weren't supposed to be here till 6pm."
"Check your watch..." I glared at my father as he looked at his wrist watch.
He whispered somthing unaudiable then asked me to follow him. He then brought me into an interagation room.
"Why am I in here?" I looked up at my father.
"You get to play the part of the profilie. I'm going to let me team get to know you better."
"That sounds rather creepy. What if I don't agree to doing this?" I stated as I sat down on a metal chair.
My father walked out of the almost empty room, leaving me with the company of a metal table and an one sided window. I staired aimlessly towards to mirror, thinking about who I really was and what I was going to tell about myself to my fathers team.
"We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves."
-François de la Rochefoucauld