"What you are is a question only you can answer."
- Lois McMaster Bujold
"Dr. Reid may I ask you a personal question?"
The patient and the young doctor sat opposite once again, with the later hunched forward with his face in his hands. Long nervous fingers ran through the messy curls of dishwater hair. He had not slept in several days, and no amount of sugar-spiked caffeine was able to hide it any longer. He lifted his head slowly, bruised-looking eyes glancing into the shadows of Amanda's face. Spencer Reid gave a mute nod.
"Were you in love with someone like Adam?"
Amanda watched carefully for a reaction from her shadows. She'd finished her cigarette some time ago, but the musky scent and bitter taste lingered in the darkened haze swimming about her. The doctor and straightened at the words, his nervous fingers gripping onto the wood arms of his chair. He cleared his throat, and Amanda smirked in her gloom at his attempts to sound just tired, and not guilty of the accused. The patient had become the doctor, the doctor the patient.
"I don't understand what you mean."
"Oh, please. Of all the horror you've seen you can't have lived on without knowing love. Otherwise this conversion would be in the inpatient lounge. I don't think I need to give you a definition."
Reid adjusted himself again. "No," his voice was even now, "what I'm confused about is why you care."
"Answering a question with a question. Isn't that a sign of hiding something Dr. Reid? That's the way I've heard it, but of course I haven't had the experiences of interrogation you have."
"I'm only asking a clarifying question, Amanda. I'm fully prepared to answer your question, but if you'd please answer mine first."
From the shadows in which Amanda surrounded herself, she didn't see the young FBI agent check the watch he kept over the sleeve of his cardigan.
"I'll play your little game," she sighed. Sharp, polished nails flashed in the dim light as they snatched up the cigarette package on the table. They disappeared into the darkness, and the sound of a rolled piece of paper slipping from the box accented the waiting silence.
"I get the distinct feeling like you're trying to find something more inside of me than Adam. The devotion you have to finding him is not normal for someone of your position, you see. You have a very busy life and yet you find time to fly down to Houston once a month to talk to little old me." She placed the bud of the cigarette in her mouth and spoke with the filter between her lips. Another flash of pointed nails from the darkness as she snatched up the lighter. Reid noted the quick, almost violent movements compared to her normally lethargic air. Amanda did not see his eyes flash over to the video camera recording their words and movements.
"You're looking for answers, Dr. Reid," she drawled, "when all you're going to get are more questions."
She settled back into the couch with a fresh haze of smoke clouding the view of her perfectly made up face. "Now," she smirked between a deep drag, "I believe it's your turn to answer my question."
Reid gave a ghost of a smile and tilted his head slightly to glance over at the door. Amanda's eyes followed his tired eyes just as the door to the counseling room opened. She cursed under her breath and angrily smashed the newly lit cigarette into the ashtray. The nurses entered along with the pleasant counselor to take her back to her room—visiting hours were over.
"Very tactful, Dr. Reid," she glared, her blank eyes unusually icy for her normal placidness. The doctor stood up slowly, clam fingers reaching up and pressing the stop button on the camera that recorded each of these encounters.
The nurses waited as Reid's eyes silently asked them to wait for a moment. He held out his hand to help Amanda up. Her delicately masculine hand gripped a little too tight. When she stood, only inches away from the man who had convinced her not to kill Adam's stepfather, her pale green eyes met dark brown. Reid spoke so quietly that only she would hear:
"A man named Tobias saved my life once. He was trapped just like Adam."
"Were you able to save him, Dr. Reid?" Her voice was mocking, but just as hushed.
"No. I shot him."
The doctor let go of Amanda's hand, and held out his arm to usher her towards the exit.
Amanda began down the hospital hallway, nurses on either side of her. She strained her head to stare back at the young doctor with his calm fingers in his pockets, and his tired eyes betraying nothing.