When they arrived in Cleveland, Reid stayed in the police department "away from the people" as Garcia sometimes put it. She knew a little bit about being the odd one out, for sure. Reid would never say anything to her face of course, but she was obviously a bit out of step with the rest of the world.
Reid pulled on his ear absently as he pored over the case files. He didn't know what he was looking for exactly but he knew he wouldn't get much done in his current state. He felt too scattered, too preoccupied to be of much help today. Every ring of a telephone, every clink of a coffee cup, every clatter of a keyboard felt like someone snapping their fingers by his ear, someone trying to get his attention every time he turned around. He could have roared in frustration. Reid was smart with an IQ of 186 and an eidetic memory, but sometimes he felt like a child with the attention span of a neurotic dog. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his face in his hands. He needed a break, a second away from the rest. He pushed his chair back and left for the bathroom. Maybe some cold water on his face would calm him down some.
He felt his head throbbing and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Everything seemed harder than it had been a few weeks ago. It seemed like he needed double the effort to pull off one of the magnificent discoveries his team expected of him.
When he returned to the desk, he found Hotch looking over his own files. "Can I help you Hotch?" Reid snapped, gathering up the sheaves of paper he'd been examining earlier.
"Reid, have you had any ideas about the unsub?" he asked in his quiet tone.
"No, I've been distracted. Can't think."
Hotch stared at him, analyzing him. "Why don't you go back to the hotel for a while? Maybe get some sleep?" He picked through the pages on the desk. "You don't seem like yourself, Reid. If you need time off, you should ask, not jeopardize the case because you're too proud."
Reid felt angry. Why could people always seem to read him like a book? He thought he hid his emotions as well as the rest of his team. "I'm fine. Do you not want me around, Hotch?"
"Go back to the hotel. You need time away from this case," he replied, his eyebrows creasing.
Reid wanted to argue, to hit something. The look on Hotch's face said he knew this and was ready to give the consequence for any action. Reid gritted his teeth and felt his fists clench angrily. Instead, he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Don't tell me what I need, Hotch," he growled. With that, he stormed out of the police office. Fine, Hotch wanted him to leave, so he did. He jumped into the nearest FBI suburban, started it and left for his hotel room. He couldn't believe this. His job was his life and Hotch had just kicked him out.