Nightmares

It was 3 AM and the team had just finished their latest case in San Francisco. It hadn't been an easy one: a serial killer had kidnapped nine young women between the ages of 21 and 32, had raped and tortured them before cutting them up and disposing of the various body parts at different areas of the city. He had been doing it on and off for the last decade or so, and had kidnapped his latest victim exactly eight days ago. That had been the reason for the local police to finally admit they needed help and call the BAU. The team had travelled there right away and worked day and night on the case; even like that, it had taken them a week to come up with the correct profile and manage to catch the UnSub before he would disappear for months again.

No, it hadn't been easy, and during that time, none of them had had much sleep. Now, having just taken off with their private jet towards Quantico, understandably, all of them had sought out their favorite spots on the plane and tried to catch a bit of rest during the 4,5-hour-long estimated travel time.

Well, nearly everyone. Doctor Spencer Reid, the youngest BAU agent ever didn't seem to be able to shut his eyes without seeing mutilated body parts and gory blood dancing everywhere in front of his eyelids in the darkness. If he saw these with closed eyes, how and where could he flee from the images!? For the hundredth time – or it felt like that at least – he huffed in annoyance and turned over onto his other side. He had been lucky enough to get the couch… again… Well, his teammates seemed to somehow always let him have the best sleeping place. He didn't have an idea why, though… Anyway. He was lucky to be the most comfortable and still, he couldn't sleep. How was that fair!?

Another agonizingly long ten minutes and two near-hysterical wake ups later, he was close to tears and ready to start cussing in at least ten different languages. Just then he felt the couch dip slightly under a newly added weight – someone sitting down beside him.

He glanced up and found a concerned-looking Gideon watching him intently.

"Hey." – He greeted his father-figure, shifting towards the wall to make more place for the older man.

"Hey yourself. Spencer, son: what's wrong?"

"Nothing…"

"Really? Because 'nothing' usually doesn't causes anyone to cry in frustration."

"I'm not crying!" – Protested Spencer, angrily wiping his eyes. – "I'm just… I guess I'm not as tired as I thought I was, that's all."

"You look like death warmed over. Are you sick?" – Gideon tried checking the young agent's forehead for fever, but Reid quickly turned his head away.

"I'm fine." – He muttered into his pillow.

"No. You're not. When was the last time you slept?"

"Just before this case, like everyone else…" – Tried the young man.

"All right, I'll word my question differently: when was the last time you actually slept peacefully for more than five minutes at a time? And under peacefully I mean: without nightmares, or any sudden rude awakenings."

"Ahm… I think… That was… I don't know…?"

"Spencer…" – Gideon sighed and rested a hand on the young agent's shoulder. – "It's all right if you need to talk to someone about all the horrible things we see all the time. Nobody will think any less of you if you need help with that. We all had the same problem in the beginning – hell, sometimes even now – and we don't even have an eidetic memory. I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like for you."

Spencer carefully maneuvered himself into a semi-sitting position and whispered so as not to wake the others:

"I can't forget anything I ever see, Gideon. All the deaths and the blood everywhere… I close my eyes and they're still there! I thought it would be better with time but I've been working with the BAU for over five months now and it's just getting worse and worse. Do you think that means I'm not fit to be a profiler and to do what we do?" – He asked, voicing his deepest fear. – "Do you find that it was a mistake to bring me here?"

"Never!" – Shook his head Gideon. – "Listen, son. I think that bringing you here was the best thing I've ever done for the team. I just hope it was the best thing for you too. But being affected by these tragedies isn't a weakness. You mustn't think of it like that."

"What is it then?"

"That's simply what makes us human. If you weren't affected by it all, I'd honestly be worried. I know it's not what you wanted to hear but it won't stop in a matter of days. Or even weeks."

Reid looked alarmed.

"So, I'll never sleep again!?"

Gideon had to smile at that.

"Oh, you will sleep, son. You will learn to compartmentalize: you'll do your work when it's time for that and then you'll leave it at the office when you're done for the day. That's how Hotch can have a family. That's how Morgan is able to pick up women in bars. That's how JJ, Elle and Garcia go out to have fun. They don't forget; they just don't think of it all when they're relaxing."

"And you?"

Gideon closed his eyes at the painful memory.

"It took me longer to learn than for most. I had to lose my wife and my son's trust to realize I can't just live for the work. I don't ever want to make that mistake again. I don't want to lose anyone or anything else to this job."

"So, what do you do?"

"I like going away sometimes into the nature, just by myself. I like studying birds. I like reading. I like watching a good, old movie. Anything that doesn't involve murders."

"Basically, you're saying I should get a hobby…? But what? I mean, I like reading too; I usually read around twenty books a week. But that hasn't helped me any."

"Hmm… Do you play chess?"

"Haven't really tried…"

"And would you like to learn it?"

Reid's eyes lit up enthusiastically.

"Yes! Would you teach me?"

"You bet I would. I have a board here somewhere…"