.

.

The elevator doors to the BAU pinged opened and Reid trailed SSA Hotchner by only a shoulder.

"You'll be assigned someone to be with you at all times, and protective measures will be taken to ensure you're safety. You are required to stay away from any suspect scenes when you are not here or with the team."

"So what are you saying?" Reid started, stepping around the older man and holding up a hand before Agent Hotchner brushed past him, "Are you saying I can't go home?" He spouted out in alarm.

Hotch spoke over his shoulder as he continued, "Yes. That's precisely what I'm saying."

Reid crossed his arms over his chest defensively as a bolt of apprehension ricocheted up his spine. His fingers fretfully dug into his cardigan. "Sir, I can't sleep every night on the couch at the BAU. What, are you checking me into lock up at the local jail till the unsub gets caught? Do you really think I'm that incapable-"

"Reid, enough," Hotchner snapped harshly, rounding back in the hallway, drawing a few nervous looks from a group of passing agents. Morgan and Garcia, who'd been having a less than appropriate exchange of words outside the elevator shot each other incredulous glances of concern. Aaron diverted the doctor by the elbow into one of the off-shooting file rooms nearby and chatter from the bullpen died out as the door shut behind them.

"This isn't ideal for you, I get it. It has nothing to do with how capable you are. You're in danger and if you think for a second that I am going to permit you to further put yourself in harm's way, you are very misinformed."

Reid carded his fingers through his trimmed hair, looking down and away from his superior, "I'm very well informed. If he's targeted me, everyone else is in danger too. Statistically it would be best for me to act as though I was oblivious to the threat. I should continue on with my routine. Statically sixty three percent of-"

"-No. I won't risk it." Hotch sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, and Reid could tell for the first time what a vast weight this case was on his supervisor, "You will not go anywhere alone. You will not make contact with anyone without notifying someone on staff first. And you will not be sleeping in a jail cell." The older agent paused, adjusting his sleeve cuff absentmindedly, "at least I should hope it doesn't feel that way." He looked almost sheepish, "you're staying at my place tonight and then Morgan's. Probably JJ's after that."

"No, Jack - I can't impose-"

"Jack is excited to hang out with someone who has never seen a Disney movie made in this decade. I'll limit him to putting you through only one. And he needs help with his science fair project as well...I'm guessing you can tell him why the Leaning Tower of Pisa hasn't fallen over yet."

Reid opened his mouth and raised a finger, only to have it pushed down by Hotchner.

"Tell him, not me. There's already a police detail outside. Spencer, please. We all need a break after today and no one on the team would sleep tonight if you were at your apartment."

The doctor gave a small smile in acceptance. "I don't mind watching two movies, if he wants. My mental anthology of relevant children's culture is definitely lacking."

His supervisor let out a succinct laugh. "I'll remember you said that." He stepped back out into the hallway, holding the door open for his subordinate. "Take a look at the geographical profile Garcia's generated and then start on the letters on the teeth. We'll be conferencing once we have the full background check on Brant Myers and Angela Schaller to work off of."

.


.

.

Reid perched cross-legged on a table top in front of a blank white board, his fingers tracing the circular bottom of a disposable coffee cup.

"A, B, E, H, I, M, N, O, R, T, U, Y." He mouthed to himself, imagining the letters as clear as day on the board as they arranged themselves into different patterns. "A, B, E, H, I, M, N, O, R, T, U, Y."

He started with the obvious:

Teeth. Mouth.

humane numb harm obey army bye harmony

better autonym antihero humanity abhenry I

entomb brain am anthem emity breath betray mother mean

His finger traced the bottom of the cup in endless circles. This reminded him exactly of exercises Gideon would give him when he was studying under his wing at the University, though his were always much smaller. He'd leave a set of numbers and blanks dawn out on a sheet of paper and expect the puzzle to be solved by the end of his lecture. Turns out it had been good practice after all.

"A, B, E, H, I, M, N, O, R, T, U, Y,"

than bone by money habit rehab abhor urban hermit

man tombburyburn home them name amen urban human maybe imbue

humor month meat unarmmayor birth brothel throb abort yearn

buoy bane main thin thou omit retina

"A, B, E, H, I, M, N, O, R, T, U, Y." He let a foot slide off the table numbly and his nerves lit up with pins and needles from the renewed blood flow.

be hint more minor beat brute brant youth retain naturethrone

hornet umbonate biometry by aerobiumabnormity birthname me it or to iota tear noir tone

time ante near runt turn ruin hero rath yearn oath heir ratio outer irate

trine inter thorn metro you merit tribe orbit ornateremitentrytimernorth

ironyearthhearthatertheirheathairairyhireunto riot earnnotetoneruemobabbyhubbrominateaerobium

"Reid."

"A, B, E, H, I, M, N, O, R, T, U, Y." His finger traced the circle, infinite possibilities, a sea of words he was drowning in.

"Reid." Somewhere, someone insisted.

"A, B, E, H, I, M, N, O, R, T, U, Y." The circle he drew felt more like an infinity loop, and round he went in the waves of words undulating across his mind.

"Reid!"

Hands on his shoulders shook him gently, and suddenly he was no longer staring endlessly into the white board, but blinking into Morgan's wide dark eyes.

"Hey, man. You were in there pretty deep...you've been looking at this thing for four hours," He pulled the now ice cold coffee from his hands and set it on the table next to him. "We already started debriefing a little bit ago, Hotch sent me to see if you'd made any headway and get you to join us." He paused, taking in the dazed look of the doctor. "You okay?"

Reid absentmindedly thumbed over his index finger, noting a blister he'd developed from running it constantly along the bottom of the cup. "I can't figure this out. There are too many words and phrases. It's not impossible, but... I can't figure this out."

"Here look," Morgan stuffed a paper into Reid's hand. "Forensics was able to sort through the teeth and there are three times as many 't's and twice as many 'a's and 'e's. Does that help? Trust me, if anyone is going to do this, there's no one better than you."

Spencer scrubbed his palm across his forehead. No one better than you.

"A, B, E, H, I, M, N, O, R, T, U, Y...Morgan! That's it!" He inelegantly shoved past his friend as he hopped down from the table, gazing back into the blank slate in front of him.

Teeth. Mouth.

humane numb harm obey army bye harmony

better autonym antihero humanity abhenry I

entomb brain am anthem emity breath betray mother mean

bone by money habit rehab abhor urban hermit

man tombburyburn home them name amen urban human maybe imbue

humor month meat unarmmayor birth brothel throb abort yearn than

buoy bane main thin thou omit retina

be hint more minor beat brute brant youth retain naturethrone

hornet umbonate biometry by aerobiumabnormity birthname me it or to iota tear noir tone

time ante near runt turn ruin hero rath yearn oath heir ratio outer irate

trine inter thorn metro you merit tribe orbit ornateremitentrytimernorth

ironyearthhearthatertheirheathairairyhireunto riot earnnotetoneruemobabbyhubbrominateaerobium

.

"I am better than you!"

"Wow okay, ki - Reid. I know." Morgan shot him a sarcastically sour look. "But we need to have a chat about ego, man."

"No, no. That's it! I am better than you! That's what the teeth spell, that's what he's saying to me."

.


.

.

Morgan and Reid, stepped into the debriefing, finding their seats respectively rather than interrupt the conversation currently underway.

"Brant Myers promised multiple people he could secure them loans, but ultimately they were denied and they all filed for bankruptcy due to their faulty investments." Garcia clicked through a list of names on the screen."

"That would be an easy justification to take him out." Hotch reasoned.

Rossi flipped through the paper copy of the fraud victims. "Looks like they all check out, though. And even if that's the case, what's with his obsession over an FBI agent? Wouldn't he want to direct law enforcement's attention away, not to his murders?"

"I am better than you - that's what the teeth spell out given the amounts of each letter in ratio to teeth. He undeniably wanted my attention."

"That's awfully bold of him, considering who he's directing that at." JJ looked over a photo from Reid's apartment, teeth strewn across the living room. "This could be someone who sees himself as your contemporary, someone with a unusually high I.Q. or the desire for one."

"That still doesn't explain the victimology, though." Rossi frowned, "Myers was average intelligence. Why did our unsub pick him out of anyone else? Everything he's done so far has been deliberate."

"He's close to the same age? Goes back to our theory about ritualistic killing of an older man." Derek considered.

"That's not it," Reid could feel when the pieces aligned in his head, "Brant Myers was a fraud. That's why the unsub cut his arms open like that to show the bones." He reeled back in revelation, eyes wide, "I'm a fraud."

The room shot him puzzled looks, taken aback.

Spencer could see his hands noticeably tremble as they motioned out in front of him with his speech, "I say I'll help people only I don't - that's the point he's trying to make." He threw a gaze around the table, beseeching confirmation from any of his coworkers, but no one would meet his eyes.

Derek shook his head, "Just because Myers had that trait doesn't mean it applies to you. That's over reaching."

"That's why he took Angela, he wants to prove that I'm incapable of saving her and that he can out do me. It makes complete sense!"

"Keep in mind for all we know, he could have just picked you out as the smartest person in the government to fixate on. There could be no connection other than just wanting the attention." Rossi, ever playing the devil's advocate, tried to steer the discussion in a different direction as Reid grew more agitated in front of them.

JJ pressed her hands together over a photo of Brant Myers, blue eyes fixed on him. "Yeah, Spence that's not tr-"

"No!" His hand slammed down on the table wildly, palm tingling upon impact. "Stop! Don't put on kid gloves with me and soften this situation like I'm a toddler! If this were about anyone else we would have accepted this as a very likely motive and have moved on to figuring out why by now."

Reid felt his voice go hoarse as he registered his chair was now shoved over to his right and he was breathless, steps away from the table. His neck and face felt tight and hot and he could hear his heart thudding in his ears. "Angela Schaller missing is my fault. He wants me to know he has me beat." He didn't even remember standing up.

"How many people have I said I'd save and watched die right in front of me?" He felt his form bend over slightly concave without his permission, hands casting out open palmed like arguing a plea he could win before they clutched into fists at his sides. The words seemed to pull themselves from his vocal cords on their own free will, "how many people have I called my friend and then let them get murdered?"

The room was entirely frozen from the unprecedented outburst. In the corner Garcia's hand over her mouth was catching the freely flowing moisture from her eyes, glitter from her green eye shadow glinting down her cheeks in the room's lowered lighting.

Reid let himself stumble back a step to brace his frame against the wall. "Just - don't lie to me. The syntax he's used in his contact with us: "I'll be seeing you." "Are you going to be a hero, Spencer?" "I am better than you." is all directed at me, no one else. The overstated show he put on in the coffee house crime scene...the only reason he killed Brant Myers that way was to get the BAU's attention. And the only reason he killed Brant Myers was because he saw him as a surrogate for me. A fraud."

Seconds dragged into an indeterminable amount of time as hushed breaths were drawn from the dead silence of the conference room.

Finally, SSA Hotchner nodded slowly while flipping through the file. "That's enough for tonight. I expect to see everyone at eight sharp tomorrow with fresh eyes." He remained seated as the team tried to pull themselves out of shock and stand, exiting out of the far side of the room wordlessly till just he and the doctor remained.

"Are you finished?" Hotch shut the file gently and tucked it into his briefcase.

Reid's face was thrown in shadow with sharp cheek bones catching the light from the blue screen of the projector, his arms wrapped around his midsection protectively. "Did I say something that wasn't accurate?" His voice had lost all of its previous strength and he felt suddenly faint, as though he'd just been submerged under water watching an alien version of himself in control.

Aaron checked his watch and sagged in his chair bonelessly, his head tilted back for a few seconds. "I...was on the phone with Haley when she died." He sat forward, opening his mouth with uncertainty till he made eye contact with Spencer. The younger agent's arms tightened around his ribs as Aaron spoke. "I know what it feels like to be helpless. To tell someone it's going to be okay even though it won't. To know with absolute certainty that the words out of your mouth are likely the last thing someone you love will hear."

Spencer focused on keeping his breathing even to stave off the prickling behind his eyes. He sniffed loudly as a response, rather than trust his voice to remain steady.

"You're the farthest thing from a fraud, Dr. Reid. Trust me when I say that the sooner you accept that the less hours you'll waste imagining what you could have done differently. I know how easy it is to let it devour you. Maeve, Gideon. There was nothing you could have done."

Reid stared down at his sneakers, unable to contain a tear, but too ashamed to wipe it away.

"You asked me once how long it would take for the pain to stop. I said then that I didn't know, but I know now that it never does. It just becomes something different, something more manageable. I wish I could give you a different answer."

Reid nodded, scuffing the rubber of his sole against the commercial grade carpet.

"Lasagna is in the oven and I know for a fact you didn't eat today. Grab your to-go bag." Aaron stood and straightened his suit jacket, "I think we could both use a whiskey neat."

.

.


Author's notes:

Ugh, I don't even know.

Looking forward to slowing it down with Hotch's apartment next chapter, I think.

Also, Hotch apparently is a fan of 'hair of the dog' if he's offering Reid alcohol after being hung over all day...