FSFAG Trailer: watch?v=QJHeeGxYFiw
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds
I really hope you guys check out my new one-shot, The BAU Gets Stoned. Tell me what you think, if maybe that should no longer be a one shot.
The sun was beaming on a Saturday in a cemetery. This made Reid snort at the irony. It was quiet, calm, and peaceful. He wished it was raining for once, since it was a sad day. Perhaps it was a happy day for someone else, but it surely wasn't for him. One man's happy day is another's worst nightmare. He watched as Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi helped carry his mother's black casket, with a beautiful white rose that had looked like it had sprouted a thousand leaves the reflected the sun. Reid couldn't even bring himself to carry his mother's casket, it hurt too much to think that his mother's body was in there.
It hurt to see all the pitying looks thrown his way. Phrases and sentences related to "I'm sorry for your loss" and "My condolences" were said throughout the day, followed by a pat on the back, a small hug, or a handshake. He hated handshakes. Organizing this wasn't hard at all, he made sure that everything was perfect in order to celebrate his late mother's life. He knew the flowers she liked. He actually yelled at someone for getting them wrong, but he knew how his mother envisioned her funeral.
The hardest part was the eulogy.
Reid spent days on how he should write this eulogy. He'd always been good with words on paper, his mind was a powerful asset. But now, he needed a word limit. He needed to prioritize what was important in his speech and what wasn't. The problem was, everything to him was important. He treasured every little thing she said or did. When she talked, he'd absorb that information as if he were a sponge. Then again, he did have an eidetic memory.
So he knew he had to take his time. Reid started off slow, "Agatha Christie once said, 'A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dates all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.'" Reid let out a small smile, "I'd say that this is an understatement when it came to Diana Reid's love for her child."
"My name is Spencer Reid, and I'm Diana Reid's only son," he said, looking around the cemetery to see the support surrounding him. He swallowed hard and continued, "Um..." He pauses, giving a nervous chuckle, "This is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life." And it was true. He could write and read silently faster than anyone he knew, but when it comes to delivering what was written, his nerves would get the best of them, "Mom was one of those people, that you could just tell anything. Despite her illness, she was a bright radiant person in my life that could never be replaced. She holds a special place in my heart." He paused, looking down, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes. His voice started to break,
"I-I remember having...rough days at school, and-and there were days when my m-mom and I would read together, and I forgot about all the bad things in those moments we shared together. She–" He stopped talking completely, his words replaced by the sound of him trying to hold back his tears. He failed miserably, as a single sob broke out. He couldn't do this.
"I'm–I'm sorry," he says, walking back to where he was standing with tears streaming down his face. He said something to Morgan, who was looking at him with understanding and compassion. Reid pointed to where he was giving his speech prior, with a pleading look. Morgan nodded and gave Reid a long hug before he made his way to read the speech.
"Spencer asked me to read his speech for his mother, which I'm honored to do so," Morgan said to everyone earnestly. He started to read out what Reid had written out, in place of him, "—she was everything to me. Mom, although I lived two thousand, five hundred and twenty six miles away from you, we've always exchanged letters everyday, inquiring about how we're doing. I treasured all the letters you've sent me. Our distance doesn't keep us apart, our familial love extends to feel as if you were right next to me. I believe there's a term called being a 'Momma's Boy', which I have no shame admitting that I was." Morgan paused, getting emotional himself. That last sentence he could relate to.
"Although we'd send letters, that doesn't overlook the fact that I cherished my visits to you whenever I could. You'd always say each time that I'm too skinny, and you'd still look after me and ask if I was okay. If I said I did, and I wasn't, you'd see right through it. When I asked you how you knew, you said, 'A mother knows'. And we'd talk together about it, knowing how to make everything better." Morgan tried not to get upset more than he was when he saw Reid crying into JJ's shoulder, hiding his face entirely while she calmly stroked his hair.
"Mom, I love you, and your face and voice will always be the center of my heart, forever." Morgan finished.
By then, Reid had walked out.
Only three days, was the team's collective thought. Three days.
Everyone wanted to scream at Reid for returning to work so soon.
He had seen the looks on everyone's faces when he entered the BAU. He didn't want their pity. he didn't want to hear the protests of him taking more days off from Hotch, or the smothering from Garcia, or the 'brotherly support' from Morgan-it would involve some stupid joke, he knew-Hell, he didn't want anyone to talk about it. He didn't want their apologies, or their so-called support. It was overbearing, in his opinion, and he didn't need to be mollycoddled. "Youngest of the FBI", now he detested the title more than ever. He was late when he entered into their room whenever they had a case, and he felt everyone's eyes on him. It made him want to vomit, "What?" He snaps.
"Your hair...it's messy," Garcia pointed out, almost startled by the way Reid acted. That seemed the make the youngest profiler even more agitated, "My hair has alwaysbeen messy, and you're getting on my case about it now?"
"Alright," Garcia replied meekly, "Alright." Once Reid settled down into a chair, Morgan made his way over to the boy genius. He clasped his hand on his bony shoulder, making him jump up at the sudden force.
"Kid, I just wanted to say if you need anything-"
Reid already cut him off, "Don't. Touch. Me." He separated each word, to know he was being serious. Now it was Morgan's turn to be startled, when he looked into Reid's eyes, they looked wild, unpredictable, and had not-so-hidden fury within them.
"We've been notified about the Brookview stabbings," Hotch started off, he then looks at JJ who took it from there, "Bill Struthers," a picture of a man in his late thirties to early forties appears. "Truck driver. A bystander pointed out seeing him making deliveries to where these women were killed. We've been asked to interview him."
"Wheels up in thirty."
The drive to Brookview from Quantico didn't take long at all, give or take thirty minutes. The team set up in a room an officer gave them, discussing details about the case.
"We've brought him in," the officer said, "He's in the interrogation room." The team looked around to see who was going to approach him, and they heard an unlikely voice spoke up,
"I'll do it." Everyone turned and faced Reid, who still had a mad look in his eyes, fierce and determined. It was the opposite of how he normally looked.
"Reid," Hotch said, sounding doubtful. "Are you sure?–"
"Yes, I got it," Reid interrupted sounding snappish, he wasn't going to discuss it any further. He stood up abruptly from his chair and stalked into the interrogation room while slamming the door shut behind him. The team looked very worried at his overwhelming confidence to talk to him. Hotch got up from his seat to follow, as well as Rossi and Morgan.
Reid's eyes were flaring at Bill. He threw a bunch of crime scene photos at him of the various girls. He pressed his arms in the table, cowering over him. "So, you like stabbing prostitutes, huh?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," the man across from him said gruffly.
"Oh, no, I think you do," Reid spat, then he grinned, anger seeping through, "Did you get off on stabbing those women? You know what, I wouldn't be surprised if you had your way with them too. Tell me, Bill, did you rape them before or after you killed them."
"But I didn't do anything!" the man exclaims, looking horrifed. The team looked on, terrified with the fact that Reid was capable of putting a man in such fear in a manner of seconds. But Reid was now laughing in the man's face, he leans closer, their noses almost touching.
"You know what?" He hissed in the suspects ear, "I should paint your nails and put makeup on you, you little bitch." Reid spat with venom. He proceeded to mock him, "What, are you gonna cry? Like you made those women cry? Good, I wanna see you cry. It'll give me immense pleasure, like how you felt when you stabbed the women!"
No one had ever heard Reid swear before, with such hate. Reid had never talked about taking joy in one's pain. Sure, maybe the suspect did those things, but Reid's behavior was concerning. Hotch would've expected it from Morgan, or possibly Rossi is enraged to a bad point. But Reid? Never.
Hotch stepped in. "Reid—"
"I-I-I don't understand—" the man rambled.
SLAM!
"You murdered innocent women!" Reid roared, pounding his fist on the table to get a jump scare from Bill. He pushed all the crime scene photos all over the floor and pushed the table with intense adrenaline and tried to wrap his hands around Bill's neck.
"Reid!" Hotch shouted, rushing over along with Morgan and Rossi to pry Reid off the suspect.
"Reid—"
"GET OFF!" Reid roared at his team before getting back to trying to hurt Bill. But, they persisted.
"C'mon, man, calm down!" Morgan tried shouting over him, glad that him along with Rossi and Hotch were able to overpower him. Another officer came by to get Bill out of the room, looking scared and frightened.
"YOU'RE LETTING HIM GET AWAY!" Reid shouted in frustration, screaming like he had never screamed before. "MORE PEOPLE WILL DIE! GET OFF ME!" Morgan wrapped his arms around Reid's waist, while the latter continued to flail around, trying to escape. "Reid! Calm down!"
"NO, LET ME GO MORGAN! I HATE YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I FUCKING HATE YOU!"
"Reid—"
"THE WOMEN ARE DEAD! SHE'S DEAD, SHE'S DEAD, SHE'S DEAD! AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" Reid proclaimed at maximum volume, which is beginning to extend.
"It's not your fault, kid," Morgan said softly in his ear, "It's not your fault." Hotch and Rossi had long let go and let Morgan console him. They watched at Reid dropping to the floor in anguish and terror, bursting into another episode of sobs and cries. Morgan continued to hold him, brushing his hair out of his face to reveal the tears that had been longing to fall out for a while.
"I knew it was too soon," Hotch said quietly to Rossi, who nodded in agreement.
"She's not here..." Reid said brokenly.
Hotch winced, he was now getting more concerned with his subordinate's behavior. Reckless, in denial, and now frustration. His mind worked like a textbook, he knew damn well what was coming up next, but how was Reid going to express it?
