The next morning Spencer was released from Lillian's clinic with instructions on his care and warnings to take it easy and avoid much bending or lifting so that his ribs would have time to heal, as well as his wrists and shoulders. She also warned him to stay off his feet as much as possible and to elevate his leg when he was resting. She would've ordered him to go somewhere and rest some more if she'd thought it would do any good .They both knew that he wouldn't, though. He couldn't. As if to prove that, he found Emily and Dave sitting in the waiting room when he limped his way out. His escorts, he knew. Bodyguards. He wouldn't be left alone until Jeffrey was caught.

Spencer watched them as he hesitantly made his way over to them. They would've been told by now, he knew. When they rose from their chairs, he couldn't help freezing, keeping just slightly back, and he knew his body would be clearly telegraphing his worry and his caution. Emily looked surprised by his reaction. Dave, however, wasn't surprised at all by Spencer's reaction, nor was he deterred by it. "Don't look so worried, kiddo. I'm not going to attack you." He said, chuckling. Walking right up to Spencer, he pulled him in for a careful hug. When they pulled apart he ruffled Spencer's hair and chuckled again as Spencer pulled back from the touch. And just like that, he not only let Spencer know that he knew the truth and didn't care, he also let him know that it wasn't going to change a thing between them.

Emily stepped up next and her look had Spencer's smile wiping away once more. She definitely didn't look happy. But she stopped right in front of him and her eyes caught his, holding him in place. "I'm not happy, Reid." She told him bluntly. "I don't like that you lied to us. But," Here she sighed and some of the temper faded away off her face. In its place was compassion tempered by an understanding he hadn't expected to see. "How can I blame you for keeping a secret like this? Especially after my own secrets."

This wasn't going at all like he'd thought it would. Spencer looked back and forth between the two and he felt a solid knot of emotion build in his throat. It took two tries to clear it out. "Thank you. Thank you guys so much."

"We've been through too much together to let something like this break us apart." Emily said, smiling.

Gently putting a hand on Spencer's back, Dave steered him towards the door. "C'mon, Reid. Let's go to the Bureau and catch this bastard."


Walking through the bullpen was a strange experience. Quite a few people called out greetings to him, welcoming him back, and Spencer flushed underneath the attention. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel like everyone who looked at him knew the truth, knew his secret, even though Dave had assured him that only the team knew. Spencer couldn't get up to the conference room fast enough.

When he walked it, the strangeness didn't go away. If anything, it grew. Seeing the evidence boards with the photos of his apartment, the first look he'd had at the damage done there—Oh, man, it was a wreck!—and all the other little signs that showed the work they'd done, it was just strange. Strange to see all the proof of their profiling of him. He'd profiled people countless times in here; he'd just never pictured he'd be the one up on the board there one day. Now that he was, he wasn't quite sure he liked that fact. It felt horribly invasive. Looking at the boards, Spencer found himself blurting out "I suddenly have a whole new respect for the victims who've had to see our evidence boards."

"Not that fun on the receiving end, I imagine." Dave said agreeably.

Spencer looked a moment longer before shaking his head. "No. No, it's not." He turned his attention to the rest of the room finally and a small pang hit him when he saw Derek slip out the other door. Okay, apparently he couldn't even stand to be in the same room with Spencer. Great. That was just great. Why? What was it that got to him? Was it that Spencer had kept these secrets, or was it that he was a mutant? Derek had never showed a prejudice before. In fact, out of everyone, Spencer had figured that Derek would be the one to be the most understanding. The man had encountered prejudice his entire life because of his skin color. How could he judge anyone else for being different? Then again, that didn't seem to stop others. Spencer had seen black activists who were avid mutant haters. Understanding prejudice in one form didn't mean that a person understood it in all forms.

But Spencer refused to believe that Derek was angry because of his mutation. Over the years that they'd known one another the man had never showed anything at all that would indicate that he had a problem with mutants. In fact, he'd always seemed to be all for equal rights. Maybe it really was just the secrets that bothered him. Maybe he hadn't stormed out because Spencer was a mutant, but because that secret was just the final straw.

Spencer was pulled from his contemplation by a very familiar voice. "Oh, my, Goodness. Reid!"

He blinked his eyes and cleared his vision in just enough time to be pulled in by the whirlwind more commonly known as Penelope Garcia. She immediately pulled him in for a big hug that somehow managed to keep from pressing on his injuries in any way at all. When she pulled back she brought her hands up to lightly touch at the bruises on his face. "Look at what he did to you! My poor little genius. How could he mark that pretty face of yours?"

Heat flared up in Spencer's cheeks, made worse by the chuckles that came from around him. He didn't bother trying to pull away from Penelope's touch. She was a very hands-on person and he knew it would help her to feel better if he stood there and let her fawn over him for a moment. Still, he tried to reassure her. "I'm better than I look, Garcia. My doctor cleared me and everything."

"Well, I don't care. You just sit right down over here and rest." She told him firmly.

Spencer found himself ushered over into a chair at the round table. He was actually grateful for her hands as he lowered himself down. When he was seated, she let go of him to reach down into the bag at her hip. From inside there she pulled out something that had him giving one of the first true, big smiles since he'd come back. It was a scarf. Not just any scarf—a scarf exactly like his favorite version of the 4th Doctor's scarf on Doctor Who. "I've been knitting this for you for a while for your birthday, but I think you deserve it now." She told him.

"It's fantastic, Garcia." He told her, choosing his words deliberately because he knew they'd make her smile.

Sure enough she smiled at him while she wound the scarf around his neck. "For you, boy genius? Nothing but the best." Bending, she surprised and embarrassed him by pressing a kiss to the top of his hair. "Now stay out of trouble for at least a day or so, okay? My heart can't take this stress anymore. Just sit here, look handsome, and I'll go get you some of the good coffee that's down in my office." And she turned and quickly bustled out of the room, leaving him staring after her with his cheeks a deep red and a goofy smile on his lips.

Because he was watching her go, he saw as Aaron's office door opened and the Unit Chief walked out. The man caught sight of him and the expression on his face was one that Spencer knew he'd never forget. His own smile froze and slowly started to fade. For one brief instant there had been so much anger, so much revulsion right there on Aaron's face, it was like nothing he'd ever thought to see directed his way. So shocking was it, he actually turned to look behind him to see if maybe there was someone else behind him, someone that would put that kind of look on Aaron's face. There was no way the man could be looking at him that way, could he?

There was only Dave behind him. Dave, who was looking at Spencer now with a look of such sympathy that Spencer knew. Yes, that look was for him. Aaron was looking at him like that.

When Spencer turned back around, he found Aaron had come forward and was now standing at the entrance to the conference room. That horrible look was off his face, thankfully. In its place was an expression so cold and flat it was almost worse than the other one. "Reid, I need to speak with you."

A lump built in Spencer's throat. Why did that request—no, that definitely was a command, not a request—sound so chilling? "Yes, sir."

Spencer managed to get up out of the chair without any help and he carefully limped his way down the walkway to Aaron's office. When they were both inside, Aaron shut the door and Spencer had to fight not to go and yank it back open. Years of being bullied had taught him to never be shut inside of a small confined space with someone who had looked at him the way that Aaron had just moments before. He'd learned that lesson the hard way at a very young age. Doing that was just a recipe for disaster. It always ended up with injuries and they were rarely ever to the other person. They wouldn't be here, either. He would never be able to bring himself to strike out at someone who had been his good friend for the past nine years.

Hotch isn't going to hurt me, he scolded himself. Quit being dramatic! He's not going to hurt me. That's not the type of person he is. Still, Spencer found himself taking a small step back, keeping a safe distance between them until Aaron was safely behind his desk. Only then did Spencer relax slightly. He didn't, however, sit. Something told him it would be better to stay on his feet for this meeting.

He figured that Aaron would have questions. Countless questions, probably. There were so many things that Spencer knew he would ask if he were in the man's shoes. Yet it wasn't surprising that the very first thing he asked was "Is what Morgan said true? Are you a mutant?"

No more lies. Spencer folded his hands in front of him and lifted his chin ever so slightly. He would not stand here like he was ashamed of himself. "Yes."

He'd braced himself for more questions. For a demand of an explanation. What actually happened was nothing he could've ever prepared himself for. Aaron turned even colder and harder than before as, in just a few short sentences, he calmly ripped away Spencer's world. "I expect your credentials and your letter of resignation to be on my desk before the day is through. The Bureau has a very strong anti-mutant policy. Do that and I'll keep your secret. But if I don't have those by the close of the day, I will take this to Strauss. Don't make me have to do that. Am I clear?"

This was worse than any blow that Jeffrey had dealt him. Spencer wanted to wrap his arms around himself and curl up in defense against this. He felt like he should look down to see if he was truly bleeding from the sharp cut of those icy words. One look at Aaron's face told him that the man was absolutely serious on this and he wouldn't be moved. A part of Spencer's heart broke in that moment. His voice was thick as he managed to make himself "Yes, sir."

"Good. Is there somewhere that you'll be staying so we know how to contact you concerning this case?"

Focus on answering the questions and doing what needs to be done. Don't think about how much it hurts. "I'll be staying with Tanya, I assume. She'll put me up until I can take care of my apartment."

"Then we'll contact you as soon as we're aware of anything. I can send officers over to watch the house for you until we have Jeffrey in custody."

"No, sir. That won't be necessary."

A knock came at the door then, cutting into their conversation. Spencer didn't move as the door opened and Emily poked her head in. "Jeffrey's been sighted down by the warehouse." She said, wasting no time. "The police there are watching. We're on our way down now."

"Let's go." Aaron said. Without once glancing back, he walked right out of his office. Emily spared a moment to look at Spencer, the debate on her face obvious. "Reid?"

"Go." He said in a voice that was so flat it almost sounded dead. He turned to her and she shivered at the look that was in his eyes. "Go, Emily. They need you."

"I'll find you when I get back, okay? We're going to get him. We'll stop him."

Spencer said nothing. He just stood there until she too was gone.

It was as if time stood still after Hotch left the room. Spencer just stood there, frozen to the spot. Numb. His mind replayed the last few minutes over and over again. The look on Aaron's face, the tension in his body, the ice of his eyes and the coldness of his words...

A drawer slammed closed in the bullpen, startling Spencer, and time abruptly started moving once again.

Spencer felt like he was moving on autopilot. His was moving, reaching out and laying his credentials on Aaron's desk, and then he was turning and making his way calmly out of the office. His body was functioning on its own without any input from him. It was like he was sitting somewhere inside of himself, watching as he went through the motions of going to his desk, of sitting down and typing up a quick letter of resignation that he then emailed out to both Strauss and Aaron. I should be feeling something right now he thought to himself. I should be hurting, angry—something. Only, he wasn't. Even as he grabbed a box from a storage closet and then packed his few personal items into it, he still felt nothing. He didn't even feel the pain in his battered body when he gathered that box up and started to make his way out. The ache of the bruises on his chest, his throbbing wrists, the stinging pain from the cut on his leg, it all registered without becoming actually real to him.

He was halfway across the bullpen when the doors opened and Penelope came in with the cup of coffee she'd promised him earlier. He'd forgotten all about that. Wow. That seemed like hours ago. Had it really only been minutes?

Penelope took one look at the look on his face and she came hurrying over towards him. "Reid! What on earth are you doing? You shouldn't be carrying anything with your injuries!"

Absently, Spencer looked down at himself and then back up at her. That numbness was still holding him tight in its grasp. It made his tone as flat and empty as the rest of him. "I'm fine."

Something crossed Penelope's face. Her expression gentled and her eyes grew slightly worried. "What happened, sweetie? What's going on?" She reached out to the box and, for the first time, caught a glimpse inside. That worry in her eyes grew. "Reid…this is the stuff from your desk."

"I'm quitting." The words came out just as flat as the rest. He knew they hurt her and he could see that they only upset her even more, yet he couldn't care. He couldn't even care about the pain he knew he should be feeling. How could he care about someone else's right now? This is Garcia! She doesn't deserve being treated so callously. She deserves an explanation. Spencer just didn't think he could give his explanation once again. Let the others tell it. Still, he had to give her something. "Some things have come to light between the team and I and it's been decided that we can no longer work together. I turned in my credentials and my letter of resignation and now, I'm leaving."

If he thought she would argue with him, he was wrong. "Let me take you to wherever you need to go, Reid." She didn't give him a chance to argue. Reaching out, she took the box from him and then used it to prod him out of the building. He went, not seeing any reason to argue. He had no idea just how badly he was scaring her right then. He didn't know that his eyes were wide in his face and just slightly blank, like he wasn't quite home.

Penelope got him downstairs and buckled into her car. When asked where he wanted to go, he gave her the directions to Tanya's place. It was the only place he could think of to go at the moment. He knew he'd always be welcome there. She'd always welcome him in. She wouldn't hate him, wouldn't stare at him with that disgust in her eyes or that anger on her face. She wouldn't send him packing just because he was different. No, no, don't think about that. Don't feel it. I can't handle this right now. I can't feel this. Not here. I will not break down here. He grasped at that numbness and yanked it even tighter around himself. It wasn't just numbness that wrapped him, though; it was exhaustion. He was so damn tired.

At some point in their drive, Penelope's phone rang. He was just vaguely aware of her talking to someone. Then her hand was settling on his leg and he had to blink his eyes a few times to clear them. When he looked to her, she had a gentle look on her face. She snuck a glance at him and then looked back at the road. "That was Morgan on the phone. He said they found Jeffrey and cornered him and he tried to shoot his way out. He was shot, sweetie. He won't ever come after you again."

A little part deep down inside of Spencer felt happy at that. There was no remorse in him for this man's death. Not for a monster like him. But the bigger part of Spencer just didn't care. He was just too tired to care.

Spencer jerked his head up when he felt a hand touch his arm. He looked up and was stunned to see his door was open and Tanya squatting there beside him. Hadn't they been driving just a moment ago? When had they arrived and why hadn't he noticed?

Tanya pulled on him and Spencer realized that she had unbuckled his seatbelt without him even noticing. The woman moved his legs out of the car and then lifted his arm around her neck, and, with more strength than she looked like she had, she pulled him into a standing position, slipping her other arm behind him to support his back. It made his shoulders scream in that distant sort of way that he acknowledged but didn't truly feel. With Tanya on one side, and Penelope coming up on the other, he found himself moving, not really caring where he was going. The exhaustion was taking over; his whole body was heavy with it.

The last thing he remembered was falling down onto a soft bed. Then, dark.


The case was done, their Unsub gone, and Spencer was safe. Any other time and Derek would've been happy. He would've been with Spencer, celebrating the fact that he'd once again survived. But today—today, he was standing here in Spencer's trashed apartment, looking around wondering when the hell everything had changed on him. What had prompted him to come here, he didn't know. After everything had been wrapped up at the BAU he had climbed into his car with every intention of going home and unwinding. Somehow, he'd ended up here. Cutting away the police tape, he'd used the spare key Spencer had given him years ago and he let himself inside. Then, for the longest time, he just stood there and stared.

It seemed sort of natural when he started to clean things up. He needed something to do with his hands. It helped him to control the chaotic churning of his thoughts. Little by little he started to put Spencer's apartment to rights while he forced himself to really look at what it was he was feeling.

He was angry, yes. Of course he was angry. Spencer had been lying to them for years, keeping this huge secret from them. How could he have kept this quiet? Didn't he trust them?

Look at how Hotch reacted, a quiet voice in his mind pointed out.

Derek scowled at that little voice of reason. Squatting down, he grabbed one of Spencer's bookshelves and lifted it back upright with just a small grunt. Sure, Aaron had reacted badly. Or, okay, not just badly. He'd reacted in a worse way than Derek had ever thought the man would. Who would've guessed that Hotch of all people would have that much prejudice in him? That had to hurt Spencer. He'd been rejected and shunned for so many different reasons in his life. This was just another one to add into the mix.

It just…it left him wondering how well he really knew him. Did he really know Spencer at all? Had everything just been a lie?

That thought plagued him while he gathered up books off the floor and stacked them over near the bookshelves. He wouldn't bother trying to put them on there; Spencer had an organizational system that Derek didn't even try to understand. If he put them on, Spencer would just take them down later and put them back the way he wanted. He lifted up another book and found something lying broken underneath it. He winced when he realized what it was; a picture. Spencer kept random space on his shelves for a picture frame here and there. Derek carefully brushed away the broken glass and picked the picture up. When he saw what it was, a slow smile curved his lips. It was one of Spencer, Derek and Elle all decked out in their Halloween masks and monster gloves, posing threateningly for the camera. Derek remembered when they'd taken that. Spencer had brought the Halloween stuff in that morning and he'd handed it out to the others. The only person to get into it with him had been Penelope and between the two of them, they'd browbeat the others into it. Penelope was the one to suggest taking the picture, actually. Elle had jokingly complained about it and Spencer, still so shy and nervous around them in those days, had deflated ever so slightly. That had been all it had taken for Derek to don the mask and gloves. All decked out, the trio had posed right there at Elle's desk.

Derek carefully set the picture on the shelf. He squatted down again, sifting through the mess until he found another picture. This one was a team one, just before David's time. JJ, Emily, Derek, Aaron, Gideon, Penelope and Spencer, all bunched together. Derek didn't remember who had taken the picture. But they all looked so happy in it. Spencer was in the middle, towards the bottom of the group, and he was beaming in that way of his that always made people smile back at him.

Another picture, this one of Spencer and Derek at Spencer's birthday party, a candid shot that caught them as Derek was trying to teach Spencer how to properly grill a burger. No matter how many times they had a party for him, the kid never failed to be surprised that they thought the throw a party for him. He always expected so little. That year, they'd had the party at Derek's house. Just a barbeque in the backyard. Spencer smiled and blushed almost through the whole thing.

The next picture Derek picked up was of everyone. Not just team, but families. This was taken at the last picnic they'd all had. There was Dave, Emily, JJ, Will, Henry, Aaron, Jack, Spencer, Penelope and Derek. He held the picture carefully in his hands. The frame that held it all was cracked on the one side, almost coming apart. It was a frame that Henry had made for Spencer just for this picture. He'd painted it himself and glued on the little macaroni noodles that kids used so much in art. It was one of Spencer's most prized possessions. The picture held a place of honor on his coffee table so that he could always look at it. His family photo, he called it.

They were a family. One big, giant, dysfunctional family, each with their own stories, their own pasts, their own lives, and, yes, their own secrets. Family stood by one another, supported each other, and they sure as hell didn't walk away from each other when things got tough.

Derek felt his temper fall away from him. Picture still held in his hand, he pushed to his feet. Then he turned and headed quickly out of the apartment. He had something very important to take care of.