Chapter 02
BAU Headquarters
Quantico, VA
Morgan
Morgan stepped into Hotch's office just as Reid all but stormed out. He's still wearing those glasses, Morgan thought, something is not right here. "Hey Reid, you OK?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." the younger man very nearly snapped. "I've got a dentist appointment; I'm not going to be back today."
"All right," Morgan nodded. "See you tomorrow." As Reid headed out Morgan turned and went the rest of the way into Hotch's office. "What's up with that?"
"Are you referring to his recent behavior in general, what happened in Miami or his anger as he left?" Hotch answered as he settled behind his desk.
Morgan shrugged. "All of the above." He took the seat across from Hotch. "He is not acting right. And not just his usual not right either. He knows better than to go off alone, did you ask him about that?"
"I did. He wasn't able to give me an appropriate answer. I know it's not insubordination, and I don't think he's…having problems again." Problems. Polite euphemism for using drugs. "I ordered him to a critical stress evaluation."
"Well that explains why he left like that. But he can talk rings around the shrinks in the pool, you know that." Morgan said.
"I honestly don't know what else to do." Hotch sighed.
Morgan frowned at him. "You know, you don't look so good yourself."
"I haven't been sleeping well." Hotch admitted. "Jack has been having nightmares. Which is understandable, but…"
Morgan nodded. Between what happened with Foyet, losing Haley, now having to be a single dad to a traumatized boy, Hotch had no resources left to help his friend, as much as Morgan knew he wanted to. "Look man, you have a lot on your plate right now. Let me get after Reid. I'll see what I can do to help."
"Thank you."
Just as Morgan was leaving Hotch's office he got a text from an all too familiar source. Get in here.
A moment later he was walking into Penelope Garcia's lair. "You summoned me My Goddess?" He paused for a moment. "What's that smell?"
"Yes. Yes I did." Garcia was all a flutter, clearly upset with something. "That's sage; I was keeping the bad vibes out of my servers. And I'm glad I did too. Seaver just left, she said the Unsub got a hold of Reid.. What happened? Was he hurt? Tell me everything!"
"Calm down babygirl. Reid's fine, he didn't get hurt." Morgan put his hands on Garcia's shoulders and guided her back into her chair. "He has been acting weird though, I'll give you that. He was checking out a suspect's bedroom, and then he stripped off his vest and wandered off. He ended up in the house next door where the Unsub held him at gun point for a while. He said he told the Unsub he was getting a headache, which distracted him long enough for Reid to get the upper hand. He told us he made it up, but I don't think that's right, he's been having headaches for days now, since before we left for Miami." Morgan frowned and shook his head. "Something about this case got to him."
"Hey guys, what's going on?" Emily Prentiss came in with a file, the contents of which were utterly forgotten as soon as she saw the concern on her friends' faces.
"Reid." Morgan said. "He's been acting strange lately. Well, stranger than usual."
"It's not just this case. Kevin caught him throwing up in the bathroom the other day." Garcia informed them. "And he usually asks to use one of my computers to register at George Washington, but he hasn't this semester."
"He's been spending as much time in the bathroom on the plane as the rest of us put together." Emily added. "And he's been eating antacids like they're candy." She paused for a moment. "Do you think he's sick? Or, you know…sick again?"
Morgan nodded in the direction of the door, which Emily closed behind her. Then he nodded at Garcia, who typed in the command to shut down all recording devices in the office. She wasn't supposed to, but she could fix it up later easily enough. "No, I don't think he's using again. He's not acting like a junkie. He may be sick, though. Babygirl, can you check his medical records, see if he's been to a doctor lately."
"Give me two seconds." Garcia turned and started typing. A moment later windows began flashing up on her screen. "Wow, has he. Looks like he had a full neurological workup at Georgetown last week; chief complaints headaches, nausea, dizziness, insomnia. He had a CAT scan, an MRI, blood workup, you name it."
"Okay, now I'm worried too." Emily said. "Do they have any of the results back yet?"
Garcia typed some more. "As of yesterday, it looks like it all came back normal. He's in perfect health. And he has an appointment to learn that this afternoon."
"He said he was going to the dentist." Morgan grumbled. "What the hell is going on with him?"
"Is there any way to find out?" Emily asked.
"Hotch ordered him to a critical stress evaluation." Morgan told her.
"Oh, yeah, like that's going to help. He'll just end up analyzing whoever they assign to him." Emily replied, and then gave voice to her second concern. "Could he be developing schizophrenia like his mom?"
Morgan shook his head. "He's not showing the right kinds of symptoms. Even he couldn't control his behavior to the extent he'd need to hide that."
"Guys," Garcia said. "I could do a…thing."
"What kind of a thing?" Emily asked as Morgan stood to look over Garcia's shoulder.
Garcia turned to her computer and opened a simple e-mail window.
From: penelope,garcia(at)fbi,gov
To: gideon(at)eruditorium,org
She turned back. "Hotch specifically told me not to contact him, but…it's Reid."
Morgan looked at the two women, then at the screen. "Let me type."
Spencer Reid's apartment
Washington DC
Spencer
He was not going to puke. He was not going to puke. He was not going to add to the vile smell in the stairwell by puking over the railing.
Spencer climbed up the three flights of stairs to his apartment, unlocked all four locks, went inside and locked them all behind him. Then he stuck a chair under the knob for good measure. Not that that would stop Frank, he thought, not that it would stop Foyet. If Gideon and Hotch couldn't be safe in their own homes, are any of us safe at all? I used to at least feel a little safe here, but nto anymore.
Right inside the door was the postage stamp of a kitchen, directly across from the closet sized bath, which meant that he didn't have to go far to find the Pepto, regardless of where he'd left it that morning. Taking his precious bottle of gooey pink goodness he went into the single room of the apartment and flopped onto his bed, letting his bag fall where it may.
That doctor was a quack, he thought. He was supposed to be an expert in his field but clearly the man had coasted through medical school. Maybe he cheated on all his exams, slept with the evaluator, bribed the exam board, something. I am not going crazy. I know the symptoms of schizophrenia, and I don't have them. Not all of them. I am not going crazy and how dare he imply that I am.
Spencer rolled over, sat up enough to take a swig from the bottle as his stomach twisted again. Now I have to go see one of the Bureau shrinks, now I have to dance through that bullshit while I feel like this. I want to go home, he thought, I want someone to help me, I want this to stop. I can't do this anymore. He rolled into a ball as his stomach knotted and his heart started pounding. "Help." He whimpered in a soft, strangled voice.
A moment later his phone started ringing.
Spencer rolled and uncurled long enough to find his bag and fish out his phone. He took a few deep breaths to get the pain under control long enough to answer the unfamiliar number. "Hello."
"I could hear you screaming all the way down here." Julio said.
"How did you get this number?" Spencer asked.
Julio laughed. "Did you pray like I told you to?" He asked. "No. You went to the doctor. I could have told you you're not sick."
"I'm not crazy!" Spencer all but yelled into the phone. "I'm not!"
"No, you are not crazy. The saints told you, you have bad egun on your head. You must find out what they are doing to you."
"I don't believe in such things. I don't believe in god." Spencer gasped as another wave of pain managed to grip him behind the eyes and behind the naval at the same time. "They're making me sick is what they're doing."
"No, you are not sick. The doctor told you you're not sick. The charm I gave you is from Ornula, he will keep you from getting sick. For a time. The feeling of sickness is the tool the egun are using to keep you from something important."
"What?" Whatever it is, Spencer thought, tell me so I can do it and make this stop. Please.
"I don't know. I don't know you." Julio laughed again. "You and your friends are smart, you'll figure it out. Now listen to me." He began to chant something in a language Spencer had never heard before.
When it was over Spencer asked, "What was that?"
"A prayer to Ornula to help you sleep without dreams. Tonight you will sleep. But you must find out what you must do, and soon. And in the meantime you must do two things to survive."
"What is that?" Anything, Spencer thought, just make this stop.
"Trust your friends. They care for you far more than you believe. Any thoughts otherwise are the egun trying to isolate you. Don't let them. And pray." With that Julio hung up the phone.
Spencer shut his phone and flopped back on the bed. Great. Such stunningly good advice. At least it shouldn't be that hard to follow. He'd trusted the team this far, he knew they cared, and were worthy of his trust. Even if they could, probably would, leave him tomorrow. But I don't pray.
A moment later he realized that his stomach had settled, and the headache was starting to ease. The Pepto must be working, he thought. He thought little else, because a moment later he was fast asleep.
Chapter 02
BAU Headquarters
Quantico, VA
Morgan
Morgan was just wrapping up for the day when he got another text from his queen. Thing worked.
He headed back up to Garcia's lair to read the message over her shoulder.
From: gideon(at)eruditorum,org
To: penelope,garcia(at)fbi,gov
Re: Reid needs help
There should be a Dr. Judith Messer in the rotation, she's new to the Bureau. Have Reid assigned to her, then do whatever she tells you.
-JG
"And?" Morgan asked.
"I already hacked into the assignment program and fixed it." Garcia told him. "Assuming no one decides to start shooting up the countryside or something between now and then he has an appointment Monday at three o'clock."
Morgan smiled at her. "That's my goddess." He dropped a kiss on her head before heading out. They had done something, at least. He only hoped it would be enough.