What Makes a Man? ("What Makes a Man?" by City and Colour)

I can hear my train comin'

It's a lonesome and distant cry

I can hear my train comin'

Now I'm running for my life

What makes a man walk away from his mind?

I think I know

I think I might know

Spencer pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck as he shivered in the chilly spring breeze. The sun would set shortly, and he had been sitting beside the Potomac River for hours, since he arrived back from an extended trip to Las Vegas. Of course he hadn't been able to hide from Penelope and Veronica, who had him on the phone as soon as his plane landed. He'd hoped to slip home without being noticed until he showed up for work the next day. His thoughts were racing ever since his plane departed from Vegas, as usual. Each trip home left him with conflicted feelings about returning to Virginia, to his job as a profiler for the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. He'd seen so much evil in the past five years it seemed like too much to handle sometimes. He was afraid it would eventually break him down. In the beginning he had been able to talk to Jason Gideon, a former BAU team member and mentor/father figure to Spencer. Since Gideon's departure the rest of the team believed that Spencer had grown, toughened up; that he could stand on his own two feet. In truth, however, he felt more lost and afraid than ever. Only now he felt he had a responsibility to live up to his partners' expectations. More often than not, Spencer was more afraid of his own mind than anything else. This fact, he didn't dare to share with anyone.

I can feel the wind blowin'

It's sending shivers down my spine

I can feel the wind blowin'

It shakes the trees and the power lines

What makes a man live his whole life in disguise?

I think I know

I think I might know

Reflecting on the years he'd spent in the BAU, Spencer wondered if he'd ever really known who he was. He'd done so much with his life, accomplished more academically and professionally than a lot of men twice his age. Having just reached his thirtieth year however, Spencer reflected on what he had to show for it all; a wall covered in degrees and certificates in a lonely apartment. He often wondered if it was really worth knowing everything he could possibly learn, if he had no one to share it with outside of work. Devin was a sweet woman, and more patient than Spencer felt he deserved. Devin deserved a man who could make her the center of his world, and frankly Spencer wasn't even sure anymore if he could be that man for her. He sincerely wanted to be, but he felt so detached from everyone in general. Even before his stay in Vegas, he couldn't remember the last time he and Morgan had played poker, or the last time he had been to see JJ's son Henry, Spencer's godson. He felt himself drifting away from everyone he cared about.

Spencer had basically grown up in Ivy League schools and the FBI. Now, at age thirty, he felt he had no identity other than SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. The magic tricks, the card games...that was all for the team's benefit. Spencer didn't want to let them know how badly he was falling apart inside. He wanted so badly to take some time away. A long time, to get to know himself and decide what he really wanted. At the same time, however, the thought of leaving the BAU with any insinuation of permanence terrified him. This job, this life, was what he had been groomed for. It was all he had known for nearly a decade. He felt like a hollow man in a bullet proof vest, making a quarter disappear to keep the people around from realizing there was nothing under the vest.

I can see the sun settin'

It's casting shadows on the sea

I can see the sun settin'

It's getting colder, starting to freeze

What makes a man want to break a heart with ease?

I think I know

I think I might know

Spencer still hadn't even called Devin since he got back in town. He had barely spoken to her for the three weeks he'd been gone. It wasn't fair to her, waiting for him. Spencer felt selfish and cruel for putting her through this, but he didn't know what to do. He liked Devin, could possibly love her, if he even knew what that meant anymore. He never wanted to hurt her, but even he could realize that his silence, being so unavailable for her, hurt her more than any hateful thing he could say to her. Devin would never show it though, she carried herself day in and day out, happy and confident. She would never admit to anyone how much Spencer's absence and emotional unavailability tore her apart inside because she cared so much about him. They all knew anyway, and so did Spencer. He thought about the beautiful smile that would stretch across her face when she saw him in the morning, and it made him want to cry.

Well I can hear my train comin'

Looks like time is not on my side

Well I can hear my train comin'

I'm still running for my life

What makes a man pray, when he's about to die?

I think I know

I think I might know

As Spencer reluctantly slid off the bench he'd been planted on for the entire afternoon and evening, he picked up his bag and something fell out. He bent to pick up the small folded paper, and opened it. It was a letter from his mother. She must have slipped it into his bag before he left. He hadn't noticed it on the trip back to Virginia. As he read his mother's flowing script the tears finally gathered in his eyes. The letter was short, but the message was clear. Spencer's mother knew, as most mothers do, exactly what to write to her son without even asking him what was wrong.

Spencer,

Don't be afraid. When everything else fails you, remember that you are still my son, and I love you. I am proud every day that you're my son.

Mother

He read the last sentence over and over, tracing every curve of his mother's handwriting with his eyes. Seeing his words to his mother turned back around to him in such a simple and loving way, he let go of everything he was trying to hold together and sat back down on the bench, sobbing. He could leave tonight on a red-eye, go anywhere he wanted. He could go back to Las Vegas. Finding work was the least of his worries. He could start a new life, find out who he was other than SSA Dr. Spencer Reid.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket, he opened the text message from Devin. "Can't wait to see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams," it said. Spencer cleared his throat and returned the phone to his pocket. Tomorrow. He would see Devin tomorrow, and she would act like her heart wasn't breaking. Spencer would act like he was happy to be back. The team would go on as always, and Spencer would play his role accordingly.

SSA Dr. Spencer Reid walked away from the bench, headed home.