He was eighteen years old, an adult in the eyes of the law. He could vote, buy cigarettes, lottery tickets and join the Armed Forces. He could also become a health care proxy, making important medical decisions, like having his mother committed.
Every second of that day is seared into his mind. He could close his eyes and replay every movement, every tear, and every ounce of guilt. He thought he knew he was doing what was best. She needed more help than he could provide. Maybe, if he was honest with himself, she needed more help than he was willing to provide. It played out exactly as he thought. They came in, they took her out and she pleaded with them, with him the entire time. He could do nothing but stand back and apologize. He was sorry, so sorry. Even today. It took Spencer Reid two years to visit his mother at the institution he condemned her to.
By the time he was twenty-two he was firmly established in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. Much to his dismay, all his coworkers saw him as a child, someone they had to protect. Everything he did, was in trying to prove himself to them. Spencer had been taking care of himself for as long as he could remember. The team was on a case in his hometown of Las Vegas, when his mother asked her son to visit. He agreed, after the case was solved. Three days after coming back home, Spencer visited his mother. He stayed in Vegas two extra days while the rest of the team flew back to Virginia. She smiled when she saw him. Just smiled. She was happy to see her traitor of a son. Sometimes, he wished she would scream at him. Tell him how disappointed in him she was. He watched for the anger, but it was only joy. And pride. He was the only one who couldn't forgive himself. It was in her room, with the windows open and a slight breeze ruffling the curtains, that Diana Reid changed her son's life forever.
Her name is Lindley.
He was speechless. She waited, knowing her son would wage a war against his emotions, letting rational thought win out. She watched as the battle played out in his face. Her brilliant son fought so hard to keep appearances. She knew he struggled against the way others saw him. He has always been the youngest; always the smartest and everyone assumed he needed protection.
Her son was the strongest person she had ever known.
He did what she knew few others could do. Looking back, she recognized how neglectful of a mother she was. She couldn't fully blame herself; she knew he wouldn't let her. She was sick, but here, here she was getting the help she needed. It put things into perspective. She was trying to make amends; however small. It was her husband who convinced her to put their daughter up for adoption. It was during one of her rare lucid moments. Diana remembered holding their baby girl. She remembered her tiny pink fists balled up and flailing as she screamed. She remembered the light brown fuzz on the top of her head as she kissed her. She remembered her smell, that beautiful baby smell. She knew she needed to give this little baby the best life possible.
She remembered Spencer, curled in a ball in his bed; her genius son was small for his age. He had a black eye for two weeks thanks to some kids at school. She decided then, to pull him out. No child of hers will be subjected to that treatment. She would teach him herself. They spent hours reading in her bed with the curtains drawn to keep out the sun. They would even read in the middle of the night. She would wake him up; they'd run outside barefoot, lay in the grass. They would talk about the skies, the stars and the moon, constellations and their ancient stories. They would stay up all night and sleep all day.
"Mother?" Spencer asked, concerned. Diana shook her head, clearing her mind of those memories.
"I have a sister? How old is she? Where does she live? Does she know about me? Does she know about you? What was her name? You gave her up? What made you decide to do that? Does dad know?" he spilled out all at once.
She almost laughed; so many questions. His need for answers was his way of dealing with the shock of this situation. Diana took her time, deciding on the best way to finally share everything with her son. He deserved to know. She took a breath.
"Yes, Spencer. You have a sister. She is five years younger than you. Her name is Lindley Reid Barrett. I have no contact with her adoptive parents. I was hoping you could find her, and no. She doesn't know about you. She doesn't know about me." Diana answered with a hint of shame.
It didn't take Spencer long before he tracked down Lindley Reid Barrett. She was 18 and a sophomore at The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He decided to meet her and introduce himself. It was a windy day in March when Spencer finally made his way to North Carolina. Spencer stumbled through a few short interactions before he was finally headed to where he was told she would be. He had memorized the layout of the campus, but wasn't sure where Lindley would be at this point in the day. Finally, as he rounded a corner he knew he had found her. His sister. She was taller, though not as tall as he, she was thin also. Athletic. He was instantly jealous. She was obviously better at social situations than he. She spoke with a small group of people with grace and ease, laughing and lightly touching the arm of a male beside her. Boyfriend? We'll see about that, he thought. The group dispersed as he set off across the lawn.
Lindley watched the papers she dropped fly across the quad. Awesome. She rushed about flapping wildly, trying to grab the papers. She sighed, all that hard work, literally gone with the wind.
"Um, excuse me. Lindley?" A male voice from behind her asked. She stood up and turned to face the young man behind her. He was tall, skinny. His brown hair sat in an unruly mop atop his head. He wore slacks and a sweater vest. There was something in the way he stood, something in his expression. She couldn't place it. He seemed nervous but confident at the same time. It seemed like he was fighting for the words to say next. She assumed it was because he thought she was cute. She had gotten that before, the hesitant invitation from a guy whom wasn't too sure. Lindley squinted in the sun behind him and waited. The stranger shifted his weight from left to right. She sighed again.
"I'm Lindy." She said, finally. His eyes grew large but he quickly looked relieved.
"Lindley, I….I'm, I mean you are….um, we… he struggled.
She pitied him. He was making this a lot harder than it needed to be. Just ask me out, she thought. Say the words and get it over with.
"What's your name?" she asked, trying to ease the situation.
"Spencer. Spencer Reid." He said.
She froze. Reid?
Lindley was 12 when she discovered she was adopted. The discovery didn't change anything between her and her parents but it sparked a flame of hunger in their young daughter. Lindley made it her personal mission to find her birth parents. It took her four years to find any information on her family, but when she did, it was a name: Reid. Diana Reid. By the next year she knew almost everything. Diana was a schizophrenic. She lived in a care facility in Las Vegas. Lindley also discovered she had a brother, Spencer. And now he was here.
"Spencer? How…." Lindley was at a loss for words. She understood his nervousness now, and shared in his feelings and fears. Where would this conversation go from here?
Spencer spoke up again, noticing her change in demeanor.
"I, um…I'm your…"
"I know." She said. "My brother." She smiled at him.
