Hotch glanced at the large glass doors to the bullpen again, wondering what had caused Reid to be so uncharacteristically late. He was worried that it had something to do with the incident last night when he'd caught him and Jack skateboarding down the road, as if he hadn't made it perfectly clear what he thought of the sport. He admitted that he'd lost his temper, something that didn't happen often, but it had drained away rather quickly when he'd turned his anger on Reid, fully prepared to reprimand him right there on the side of the street.
The young agent's reaction to Hotch's anger had been...alarming, to say the least. All it had taken was for Reid's brain to register that Hotch had started to move and the Unit Chief had watched as Spencer flinched violently and raised his arm to deflect a blow. The signs of it being a purely instinctual movement had all been there. Reid's legs had inched upwards towards his chest and his shoulders had hunched up to protect his neck, his face turned away and scrunched up in anticipation. It was one of those reactions that you just couldn't control no matter how illogical your head knew it was, and Hotch recognized that.
And he wouldn't have been nearly as concerned as he was if Reid had immediately recovered, blurting out apologies and looking embarrassed, as most people would have.
But no, he hadn't done that and it was this that had Hotch worried. Reid had first carefully opened his eyes to assess the level of threat and, only after he had deemed it safe, did he actually lower his arm and uncurl his body. This meant that on some level, even if Reid was not aware of it himself, he'd been momentarily seriously concerned for his safety.
At first, after he had gotten home and Reid had left, he'd been a little insulted that Reid might think he lacked that much self control and would actually hurt him. Then a more chilling thought occurred to him, one he hadn't considered until then.
Had Reid been physically abused as a child?
As soon as the question popped into his head, Hotch was pretty sure he knew the answer. It just explained too much about the young genius NOT to be true. His timid nature, poor social skills and aversion to physical contact were all byproducts of an abusive childhood, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions and resisted his initial desire to have Garcia look into Reid's history. The young man was a very private person and if he found out that Hotch had gone behind his back to snoop around in his past he would not only be furious, but he would never trust Hotch again. And trust was not something the Unit Chief could afford to lose.
Just as he was considering calling the young genius, the man in question appeared in the bullpen, over a half hour late and wearing a murderous look that somehow seemed scarier on his delicate features than it normally would on someone else.
In hindsight, Spencer thought that maybe the coffee had not been such a great idea that morning. He was practically humming with agitated energy as it was. His hand gripped his cheap travel mug hard enough to break it and his teeth were grinding so hard he was sure everyone on the subway could hear it. At the very least, they all seemed to sense his anger, for when he stomped onto the train everyone inched away from him in whatever direction happened to be available.
Unfortunately, the uneventful train ride merely served to make him more and more angry. Since there was nothing else to focus on, he just kept replaying the morning over and over in his head.
By the time he finally made it to work, he was over half an hour late, his coffee was going cold because of the cheap piece of porcelain crap travel mug it was in and, to top it all off, he looked just as great as he felt. He'd not had time to find proper work clothes and so was dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple black, long sleeved shirt. His hair was still tousled from the pitiful amount of sleep he'd gotten and from running his fingers through it a million times in frustration.
"Forget to set your alarm clock, pretty boy?" Derek asked teasingly. His head was bent over a file full of paperwork and he hadn't looked up when Spencer walked in, keeping him ignorant to the young man's dangerous mood.
Unreasonably annoyed by Morgan's remark, Spencer slammed his travel mug down so hard on his desk that it made his coworker nearly jump out of his chair and caused several pages from the folder to fly off the desk and flutter to the floor.
When Morgan's startled gaze snapped up to stare at him, Reid snarled, "I don't forget things!" and stormed off towards the break room to get more coffee.
Once he got there, Reid immediately felt bad about shouting at Morgan and reminded himself that he needed to calm down, as being angry was a waste of energy, fixed nothing and clouded his thoughts to the point where he usually ended up doing stupid things like screaming at his coworkers. Besides, it wasn't Morgan's fault that-
"Reid?"
He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. 'All I want is a hot cup of fucking coffee...' Anger swelled in his stomach again, obliterating any progress he'd just made in calming himself down. "Sorry I yelled at you." is what he chose to mumble instead of shouting again. He glared down at the coffee maker, his hands flat on the counter either side of it, like he was trying to intimidate it into brewing faster.
"What the hell is going on, man?" The older agent asked concernedly, seeming not to care about Reid's little outburst a few minutes ago.
Spencer sighed, wishing Morgan would just go away. He just needed five minutes to himself and he'd be fine. That was all, just five minutes. But, in typical Morgan style, the man kept pushing. "It doesn't...I just...had a bad morning."
Morgan came up beside him, his dark gaze making the side of Reid's face burn.
"Reid, I've seen you go through a lot of bad days but I've never seen you this worked up. What's wrong-"
"Morgan!" Reid exclaimed loudly, his hand raising to silence the man and his eyes closing, trying, again, to reign in his dwindling patience. His every muscle was tense and he was breathing through his nose. "I can't...not...I have to..."
"Calm down?" Morgan supplied.
"Yes, that."
When he returned to his desk, his cell phone was already ringing within his bag and he pulled it free, glanced at the caller ID and threw the phone on the desk, letting it ring. After a moment, the voice mail kicked in and the office was quiet again.
Morgan had moved back to his desk and sat down cautiously, his eyes never leaving Reid for a second.
Trying his best to ignore the overprotective agent, Spencer sunk into his chair and curled himself around his cup of steaming coffee, inhaling the rich and beautiful aroma. He instantly felt calmer, the anger ebbing away with every breath he took.
"Reid?"
He forced his eyes open when he heard Hotch's voice calling him from the Unit Chief's office door.
"What?" he asked while he stared into his coffee, as if he didn't know the man wanted him to step into his office. He didn't move in his chair though, hoping Hotch would just take the hint and leave him alone for a few more minutes.
Suddenly his cell phone blared to life again, vibrating loudly against his desk and making him jump. He looked at the ID again and felt an actual growl claw its way out of his throat. For the briefest of moments, he considered answering itl, before discarding the idea and viciously pulling the battery out of the device and leaving the two pieces on his desk.
"Reid."
Recognizing the no-nonsense tone Hotch was now using, he followed the man into his office and as soon as the door had closed behind them, Hotchner turned on him.
"Alright, what's going on?"
Spencer opened his mouth, the word 'nothing' preset to play like a broken record.
"If you say 'nothing', you're fired."
Her blinked, taken aback. Had Hotch just made a joke? His face looked far too grim for that to be a possibility, but he couldn't really be fired for giving an untrue answer to a personal question.
Could he?
He frowned. 'Of course he can't fire me! It's not like lying about something work related, this has no affect on my job at all.'
"Reid, stop thinking so hard." Hotch said, looking exasperated.
"So it was a joke." Spencer said, not understanding why it was supposed to be funny.
He watched as the Unit Chief pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Could you take a seat please? We need to talk about a few things."
Spencer's stomach suddenly felt cold and he frowned at Hotch, closely studying his body language for any clues as to what the problem might be. As always, though, the man was difficult to read and Spencer began replaying every interaction he'd had with the man at lightning speed, starting with the most recent, and analyzing each one, trying to figure out what he might have done wrong.
Was it the skateboarding thing? Because he thought they'd sorted that out already. At least that was what Hotch had told him before he had left the man's house last night. The man in question was watching him closely and he flushed, sitting down in the chair in front of the desk. "Sorry."
"Why were you late this morning?"
He sighed heavily, his anger now gone, having been chased away by his sudden nervousness. "I..." he struggled to come up with something to say. Finally he just hung his head and admitted. "I was dealing with...family issues."
There was a moment of silence that followed his statement and Spencer knew exactly what was going through the other man's head. He wasn't stupid after all. Hotch was walking a fine line between urging Reid to open up on his own and just using his position of authority to force him to talk.
Hotch was growing frustrated. "Look, Reid, about last night."
Spencer tensed.
"I couldn't help but notice your reaction when I lost my temper."
Now heat was rising in the young doctor's face and he fought to contain the blush of embarrassment. That's what this was all about? 'Why the hell would...oh.' His hands become interesting all of a sudden, and he dropped his gaze to his lap.
He hadn't given much thought to his impulsive reaction when he thought Hotch might have been angry enough to hit him, at least he hadn't after he had left the man's house last night. Belatedly, he realized that the reason he was now sitting in his boss' office actually tied in with the events from this horrible morning and that Hotch had probably put two and two together from what had happened last night and come to the only possible conclusion.
"My father called me early this morning." He said, finally looking up at Hotch.
Apparently it hadn't been what the older man had expected Reid to say because he took a moment to blink as he studied his subordinate's face., which for Hotch was like someone falling out of their chair in shock.
"That answers most of my questions."
Spencer smiled bitterly. "Yeah well, he's been making a habit of it lately. This was the third time he's contacted me this year." When Hotch remained silent, he felt compelled to continue speaking. "Looking for money, as always. Seems that he started drinking again a few years ago and now he's worried about going dry."
"He's asking you for money to support his alcoholism?"
Spencer just nodded, chuckling a little at the absurdity of the situation. "I've been arguing with him since three am. I should know better than to try and have a rational conversation with him when he's that drunk."
Hotch peered at him from across the desk, appearing to be choosing his next words carefully.
"Reid, have you ever spoken to anyone about...your childhood?"
Like the involuntary reaction to Hotch's anger, Spencer could almost feel the walls slamming into place before his boss had even finished the question.
"Reid, don't do this..." Hotch started, reading the young man's body language easily.
"Don't do what? Aaron, what little there is to talk about, you already know." Using the person's first name was a common tactic in throwing them off balance around here. The first of many in a long list of ways Spencer could throw Hotch off the scent trail he was sniffing at.
But the man was not shaken by such a feeble manoeuvre. "That's not true and you know it."
Counter Tactic number one: Call their bluff with irrefutable confidence.
"Is this because of the skateboarding thing?" Spencer asked, looking as annoyed as he felt.
Tactic number two: Divert their attention with a topic of known sensitivity.
"No, this has to do with the fact that you thought I was going to hit you like your drunken father used to."
Counter Tactic number two: Don't take the bait and verbally punch them in the gut with your words.
Spencer stared at Hotch, unable to believe the audacity of the man. He slid forward in his chair and folded his arms atop the desk, fixing a frigid, unblinking gaze on his boss, his eyes glittering like chips of ice in the dim office lighting.
Hotch moved back a fraction of an inch as Spencer leaned forward. The miniscule movement might as well have been a sparkly post-it note that suddenly appeared on the Unit Chief's forehead with the word 'unnerved' scribbled across it.
"My relationship with my father is something that I have been dealing with for a very long time and you suddenly becoming aware of the fact that my issues with him run deeper and darker than what you thought does not give you the right to back me into a corner and demand information." He stood, glaring down and drinking in Hotch's wide and cautious eyes. "Unless, over the last fourteen hours, this knowledge has allowed you to suddenly recognize a flaw in my work ethic that is a direct byproduct of my childhood and that you otherwise would have missed, then there really isn't a damn thing you can do about it, is there?"
Hotch had regained his composure by now and had stood and come around the desk to face Reid. He looked at him carefully for a moment, taking in his blank face, clenched jaw and burning gaze and said the only thing he was thinking.
"You really are intimidating when you feel threatened."
"Are we done?" Spencer asked through gritted teeth.
"Get your temper under control, Reid. You can't be slamming stuff around and yelling at Morgan."
"Pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" Spencer observed with a raised eyebrow.
Hotch's face darkened and Spencer suddenly realized that he had overstepped his bounds.
"You're dismissed."
By the time lunch had rolled around, Spencer was feeling himself again. He had spend most of his time pouring over files and catching up on paper work like everyone else, but with the added benefit of being able to properly analyze his current situation so that it could be dealt with effectively.
He had since replaced the battery in his cell phone, rolling his eyes when he saw the three missed calls and three voice mails waiting for him. He ignored them for now, knowing that if he listened to them he would just become angry again.
It was nearing four in the afternoon, about the time when everyone started slacking on their work because they knew the day was almost over, when Spencer heard a voice he hadn't heard in years.
"Hi-excuse me! Hi there. I'm looking for Dr. Reid...?"
Spencer surged to his feet, turning towards the doors to the bullpen. "Ethan!"
His childhood friend stood there just inside the doors, where a woman carrying a stack of files had pointed when he mentioned Reid. Ethan and Spencer's faces broke into identical grins and they jumped towards one another and embraced, laughing.
After a moment they separated and held each other at arms length.
"God, it's been ages!"
"You look amazing!"
"What are you doing here?"
The clearing of a throat made them both stop and turn to look. Hotch stood by Reid's empty desk and the entire team had either poked their heads out of offices or raised them from their paper work to see what all the commotion was about.
"Reid, why don't you take an early day?" Hotch suggested, looking between the two grinning young men.
Ethan turned to look at him, his smile fading a bit. "Yeah, Spence. You need some time off."
Spencer smiled and grabbed his stuff from his desk, thanking Hotch and telling everyone that he would see them all tomorrow. He followed Ethan out to the parking lot after his friend had informed him that he'd rented a car for the week.
"Thank you...for coming, I mean." Spencer said once they were on the way to his house.
Ethan glanced at him. "You asked me to, Spence. And if you're asking then I know it's gotten pretty bad."
When Spencer remained quiet, Ethan reached over and put a hand on his leg. "We'll figure it all out, man. We always do."
R&R Please! Reviews are the reason I've posted three stories in three days! You guys motivate me!
