The layers of clothes aren't accidental. Neither is his general aversion of skin-to-skin contact with people he doesn't know. Hell, even following a paper trail is soothing for more reasons than his coworkers realize.

Sometimes, Reid really hates that he's an empath, especially because he's one of the lucky few who don't need to be touching the person to get a read. Sure, touching a person gives him a more intense and accurate read, but trying to falling asleep when your schizophrenic mother is in the middle of a paranoid delusion down the hall certainly never felt anything like luck. And while there are benefits when interrogating a suspect, he still has to prove it in a more verifiable way than "I have a gut feeling," which wouldn't stand up in court, even if his empath status were registered. But Reid prefers to keep his empath status under wraps. Having an eidetic memory already makes people think he's a freak; he'd rather not give people any more ammunition.

Hotch knows because he's the unit chief. Reid understands not disclosing a medical condition that might affect him and his team in the field would be reckless and irresponsible; Hotch's discretion on the matter is greatly appreciated.

Gideon knew too, though he picked up on it in a way that only a fellow empath could. It drew them close in a way he couldn't feel with the others and it hurt that much more when Gideon left. Of course, Reid knew how deep the other man's emotional deterioration ran, but he didn't think Gideon would up and leave, running farther than their bond could be felt.

Going up to the cabin, Reid was extremely worried about what he'd find. Their bond had been severed so completely overnight that he feared he'd be finding Gideon's lifeless body rather than a plain, useless letter. It was a very small comfort; Reid never thought Gideon would physically and mentally abandon him in such a distressing fashion.

Ironically, in the past, Reid had occasionally wondered if Gideon was more interested in his eidetic memory or his empath abilities. It made him feel a little guilty, especially because he knew Gideon could feel his doubt and insecurity over their kinship, but now that Gideon is gone, Reid finds he couldn't care less. He thought their bond was special; apparently, he thought wrong.


When Tobias dies, Reid feels the other man's emotion drain away until there's nothing left. It doesn't matter that he's felt people die before because instead of fear or anger slowly trickling out, it's happiness. That makes him shudder in a way that can't be attributed to the biting cold.

Embracing Hotch, Reid makes sure his cheek is tightly pressed against Hotch's. That point of contact allows him to focus on the relief Hotch is pouring out in waves instead of drowning in the overwhelming anxiety and guilt from Morgan and JJ.

He says, "I knew you'd understand," and is sure Hotch knows it's not just the clues he's referring to.


"You're probably wrecking the hell outta your liver," Morgan says as Reid pops his third Tylenol in an hour.

He wants to yell 'yes, but it's better than shooting up dilaudid, don't you think?' because it's really been one of those days that he despises the noisiness of sobriety. It's the week of yearly evaluations and the high concentration of everyone's barely suppressed anxiety is digging its way under his skin, giving him a headache that only gets worse as the week wears on.

Instead, he goes with a simple, "You wouldn't care about your liver if your head felt like mine."

Morgan's face softens at that. "If it's that bad, maybe you should ask Hotch to go home. It's not like you can't catch up on your paperwork, hell, you're probably already ahead, and you already did your eval, first one of the week, as always."

Reid calculates the trade-off - the ocean of people fretting at work versus the cacophony of the subway at lunch hour - and knows it's just not worth it. It makes him highly regret not planning ahead and driving into work, but he can tell from the concern circling Morgan that shrugging it off won't work.

"Maybe in a couple more hours? You know how the subway is right now."

Instead of responding like a goddamn normal person, determination fills the air as Morgan strides towards Hotch's office. And before he knows it, Morgan is slinging Reid's messenger bag over his shoulder.

"C'mon, I'm driving you home."

If it was anyone else, he'd probably resist out of spite. When it comes to the other members of the team, there's a protectiveness that only applies to him and small children. Morgan's concern - and the protectiveness that comes with it - has always been different that way; Morgan feels the exact same way for all of the team members. So yeah, Morgan might call him 'kid' now and then, but it's never because he thinks Reid is incapable of taking care of himself.

And okay, Reid would be remiss if he didn't acknowledge that their mutual romantic feelings for one another also influences his willingness to give in to Morgan's care taking.

Reid sighs. "Fine. But only because now Hotch'll chew me out if I stay."

As Reid stands up to leave, Morgan has the audacity to beam at his reluctant compliance.


Knowing when someone finds him attractive tends to be more awkward and complicated than it would initially seem. Most people don't take the time to really delineate how many different emotions go into the various types of attraction. There's the obvious generalized physical, emotional, and sexual aspects of attraction, but it's rarely that simple and the variations are seemingly endless. For one, the various attractions aren't mutually exclusive; the one night stand is what society sees as the obvious representation of this, but Reid knows with clarity just how an asexual person's experiences with various attractions factors into that equation. Beyond that, attraction can also be tinged with other emotions, positive or negative, and then there's attraction on such an obsessive level that he knows exactly why it should scare him.

Morgan's attraction to him is one of the more complicated ones, stained with guilt and a heavy discomfort. Early on, he wrongfully assumed those feeling stemmed from thinking the attraction wasn't reciprocated and Reid had attempted to kiss Morgan in response. Even if he wasn't trained to read body language, the full force of Morgan's fear enveloping and overwhelming him was more than enough to have him pulling back.

It's disappointing, but Morgan still touches him and jokes with him and doesn't let that fear strangle their friendship, so Reid tries not to think about it too much. It's the least he can do.


"Are you sure you'll be okay alone?" Morgan asks after making sure he gets up the three flights of stairs and into his apartment.

Aside from Morgan's emotions, the living room is blissfully quiet. Reid had picked the apartment for its thick, sturdy walls, settled on the third floor to dampen emotions from the street, and put his bookshelf along the wall separating him from his "noisiest" neighbors, though he doubts they're home at the moment.

"Yes, I just need to lay down for a bit."

"My mom used to get migraines a lot too. I can be here, but quiet if you want," Morgan offers.

If it were just a migraine, Reid reasons it'd probably be okay, but Morgan hovering will just make his recovery take longer.

"Please, I just want to be alone," Reid says.

He feels Morgan's slight sadness that almost makes him take back those words, but it quickly turns to acceptance.

Morgan nods. "You let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

"Definitely," Reid says with a smile that probably comes out more like a grimace.

The accomplishment Morgan radiates as he leaves is a nice note to end on before Reid drifts to sleep.


He stays home Thursday because Hotch insists and JJ stops by with a sandwich at lunch time because apparently everyone thinks he can't feed himself, despite the fact that he's been cooking for himself since he was a young boy. Other than that, Thursday is a quiet day that Reid hadn't realized he'd needed for quite some time.

Friday, Reid goes into the office and while there's still a buzz that threatens to turn into a headache, it never quite gets there, for which he is exceedingly grateful.

He doesn't outright thank Morgan for pushing him to go home because he'd learned in the past how uncomfortable it makes the other man. Besides, there's no way in hell that Reid will admit Morgan was right. Instead, he returns the favor by grabbing all his extra paperwork from Morgan's pile, ignoring the gratitude pouring off of him by pretending like it's nothing.


A/N - I received a guest review asking a question. I deleted it because I thought it wasn't appropriate, but I would like to address a few things:

1) I started brainstorming ideas for this fic back in 2013 when I read an empath fic in the Suits fandom and have multiple emails discussing ideas with my beta and friends, July 4, 2013 being the first one.

2) I have not read the other empath fic in this fandom, nor do I intend to. Empath is a trope dating back to at least Star Trek, so if there are similar ideas, that's the only reason why.

3) Reading the description of the other fic, I can tell you we are writing very different stories, if only because I am writing empath fic to explore what it might mean for my OTP.