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"You shouldn't have done that professor..."
Reid looked at the gun and then back at it's handler, and he couldn't help but shake his head. He'd been more scared than this, and he'd been in more danger than this, but he couldn't really remember a time he hadn't had backup.
"Trent, talk to me, put the gun down and tell me why you are so angry, I'm listening," Reid pleaded.
"You're only listening because I have a gun pointed at your head," Trent replied, his hands tightening on the gun.
"Well maybe if you would put the gun down, I could hear you too." Reid answered, not moving, but steadily watching the student, not the gun. Slowly Trent's stance relaxed and the gun fell to his side and he gulped heavily.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Trent said softly, not looking at Reid but instead staring ahead at the dry erase board on the wall. "And I don't have anyone to help me,"
"Almost every professor in this school would be willing to help you if you needed to talk." Reid claimed, stepping slowly towards the window, suddenly though the gun was back on him and he stopped, sighing softly. "You know my door is always open when you need anything, I said that first day of class."
"EVERY TEACHER SAYS THAT!" Trent yelled, "NONE OF THEM ACTUALLY MEAN IT!"
"I do," Reid answered calmly. Trent stared at him,
"You aren't afraid of me," it was a question, not a statement.
"No," Reid answered anyway. "I have been locked in a room with a man who tore a woman apart in less than 5 minutes. I was kidnapped and tortured by a man with three personalities; well that's not true, only one of them tortured me, the other was actually pretty nice, expect that he got me addicted to drugs but..." He looked at Trent, "You are not one of them, I know you aren't, and so do you."
"I could kill you," Trent said, though the gun stayed limp by his side.
"No, you can't. Or you would have done it already," Reid claimed. The 18 year old looked at him as if hoping that was true. "I have seen the evil men do, Trent, I have seen things I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy to see, you are not evil, you aren't even bad. You are scared and lost and you somehow thought bringing a gun to school would help you. Let me help you. We can both walk out of here right now and no one has to die, no one has to even get hurt, you can go through some therapy and everything will be okay."
"Okay?" Trent asked sarcastically. "I am going to jail, Dr. Reid, I am going to become another face on the tv screen that people hate because I risked the lives of the young."
"Only if I die today," Reid stated. Trent looked at him confused and slightly startled, "If we both walk out of here then you, yes get jail time, but not for first degree murder, and people will wonder how they could have done more to help."
"It's too late for me," Trent said, fingering the gun in his hand.
"No," Reid tensed as he realized what the teenager was thinking. "I promise you, this is not the end, you are only 18, this doesn't have to define you." Reid claimed, trying desperately to talk him down, he couldn't bear to watch another child die in front of him, especially since he thought he had gotten away from it, he thought he'd never have to see a dead kid again. "Look at me," he ordered, since Trent was staring at his gun.
"You have a daughter, don't you?" Trent asked, meeting his eyes. Spencer was slightly taken aback by the question, and wondered what on earth that had to do with the situation, but he answered.
"Yes, Bianca, is her name," he said, his voice softening from his earlier stern tone.
"And you would do anything for her?" Trent asked, Reid was getting more confused, but he nodded, "My father wouldn't." It was then that it clinked, this wasn't just the failure of the school or untrue thoughts of Trent, this went back to his parents, it usually did.
"No parent is perfect, I've made mistakes, but we try our hardest, and I'm sure your parents did too. Even if their best sucks." Trent looked Reid and sighed,
"He would come home reeking drunk and mom would hide and leave me out in the open, he'd beat me senseless." Reid flinched and licked his lips, "The day I turned 18 I left, and I haven't seen him since. I thought here I would find someone, anyone who would give a damn. But there's not."
"Yes, Trent, there is," Reid claimed, "But you have got to reach out, we can't read minds," maybe turning the responsibility on Trent wasn't a good idea, but he had to make this boy realize that he had to ask for help, he couldn't expect it to just appear.
"I thought you were a profiler," Trent replied and Reid smirked,
"Ex-profiler." Reid said, "And even current profilers can't notice everything."
"You keep up with your old team?" Talking. Talking was good, it kept Trent's mind off the gun in his hand.
"I'm married to one, and view the others as brothers and sisters, I even keep up with the crazy uncle that has retired."
"Your wife is a profiler too?" Reid sighed,
"Husband," he corrected, Trent's eyes widened slightly but then he nodded.
"Is your daughter adopted or is she biologically one of yours?"
"She's mine, I didn't want her to be, because I have a family history of paranoid schizophrenia, plus addiction, but my husband insisted he wanted it to be mine, I still don't really know why, but he gave me those puppy dog eyes of his and I caved. And Bianca is amazing, and I wouldn't trade her for the world."
"I wish my parents would have had that expression when they talked about me," Trent motioned to his professor's face, which Reid felt like was probably glowing with pride, despite the current situation he was in.
"You don't have to be a product of your raising," Reid claimed. "I am a much better father than my father was, he abandoned me when I was ten and left me with a mentally ill mother, who forgot I was her son most of the time. So sometimes we have to rise above what we were given by our parents, and make our own future."
"Looks like in my case though, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Trent shifted the gun to show what he was talking about.
"I don't why you don't see that you haven't been put on that list yet, and as far as anyone knows you are still just a lost kid, they probably already realized that you haven't killed anyone."
"If you could change anything in your entire life, and make it not happen, what would it be?" Reid blinked slowly, exhaling quietly,
"There is an unsub I wish I would have made the connection sooner, so that maybe I could have helped him. Instead he was put in a mental institute and was taken over by his other personality, an evil person named Amanda."
"You wouldn't pick your childhood, or your addiction?" Trent asked curiously, Reid smiled sadly,
"Those things made me what I am, they lead me to Derek and my daughter, so I could never regret the things that made me the person I am."
"You can when they make you a bad person," Trent whispered. Before Reid could speak again he continued, "Do you think your old team is outside, waiting to hear or see anything in the school?" The 'waiting to see if you're alive' remained unspoken.
"Yeah, if they know about it, whether they are here because they were called in or not, they are probably out there, asking around, trying to figure out who you are." Trent sighed heavily,
"Your husband will kill me the moment he lays eyes on me."
"No, he'll cuff you and take you to the cop car, but he can be professional when he has to be," Reid smirked sadly, knowing the option that he would never see his husband and child again was still on the table.
"I have no other choice, this has to end here," Trent said. He brought the gun to his temple but right as he got the shot off he was tackled. They fought over the gun, four more shots being fired off in quick session. Finally Reid had the gun and he quickly threw it on the other side of the room, his hands pressed down on Trent's arms firmly. Despite the fact that he was struggling and despite the fact that he was 22 years Reid's junior, he couldn't fight off the older profiler. Reid looked down and saw blood, the problem was, he didn't know if it was his or Trent's.
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