.

The Beginning

8 December 2004

Bend, Oregon

The cruel easterly wind bit at his fingers but Spencer did not lower his hands. He took another step forward, eyes never leaving the shaking form clinging to the railings that ran around the edge of the rooftop. Bright neon lights from the billboard atop the neighbouring office block cast the boy into a black shadow and the intensity of the illumination hurt Reid's eyes but he didn't dare look away.

"Why are you doing this to me?" The boy wailed, the force of the words leaving his lips making his entire body waver on the ledge, and yet the sound was almost lost in the jumble of noises from the city below and the harsh whistle of the wind passing over the air ducts.

"I just want to talk to you, Daniel." Reid took another step.

Daniel looked down at the ground far below, the black silhouette of his body moving like a player in a shadow puppet theatre.

"I know you didn't mean to hurt Trudy." Reid told him. "It was a mistake. She and Mary didn't understand what you were trying to do." He took another step forward, close enough now to brush his fingertips against the railings if he reached out. One more step would put him within reaching distance of Daniel Price…within saving distance… "But I understand."

Daniel looked up.

Reid took another step and the features of Daniel's thin and pockmarked face came into focus. Blue neon bathed his hair and tinted his skin.

"Reid." Hotch's voice. It was soft, barely heard, but full of warning.

He could not afford to heed it. "You wanted to forgive them."

Daniel shuddered, eyes locking with Reid's. A glint of moisture tracked down his cheek. He let go of the railing.

And just a simply as that, the boy was gone.

-o0o-

Emily:

"We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full.

Marcel Proust"

3 November 2011

Behavioural Analysis Unit, Quantico, Virginia

"I would say a penny for them," Rossi said as he sat on the edge of Morgan's desk, "but I'm all out of small change."

Morgan looked up.

"Your thoughts," Rossi told him. Then he looked over at the empty desk that Morgan had been staring at for the last 15 minutes. "But I think I can guess. Reid?"

"He'll be back tomorrow." Morgan said. "And the trial starts next week…"

"Reid doesn't talk to me quite as much as he does to you or JJ or Garcia…but when I last spoke to him he sounded prepared for what comes next and he knows we're all here to support him."

Rossi watched Morgan sort through that sentence in his head. And realised he'd made an error in his assumption. "But…you already knew that." He frowned and watched Morgan's eyes return to Reid's desk. "But this is about Reid?"

Morgan took a breath. "Something keeps gnawing at me. Something Rhodes said. And every time I put it aside, it just keeps coming back." He shook his head. "It's probably nothing."

A thread of concern wound its way around his guts. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

Morgan straightened up in his chair. "About a year after Reid's abduction I made him a promise that we'd catch whoever did this."

Rossi frowned. "You kept that promise."

"And when I arrested Rhodes, I looked him right in the eye and told him that I keep my promises." Morgan looked up at his superior. "And he looked right back at me and said that he did as well." Morgan sat back in his chair and shrugged. "I know he meant everything he'd done to Reid. That it was his way of acknowledging it and twisting the knife…"

Rossi considered Morgan's professional opinion and agreed with it. Rhodes had never acknowledged his own psychopathy, hiding from his true nature by deluding himself that everything he had done had been mission-based: fulfilling the last wishes of a dying woman. Morgan interpretation was sound. He should not be second guessing himself. Rossi looked round at Morgan. "But?"

Morgan's phone began to ring and as he reached for it, he shook his head in frustration. "If that's the right answer, why does it keep coming back like it's not?" He put the receiver to his head. "Morgan."

Rossi stood up; his eyes drawn as Morgan's were to Reid's empty desk.

Morgan was right. It probably was nothing.

And yet…

-o0o-

4 November 2011

BAU, Quantico, Virginia

Garcia clutched a large mug of cocoa to her chest as she watched Hotch and Rossi walked together, locked in conversation, to their offices. The plastic band of the anteater shaped ring that she wore on her finger made a tick-tick-tick noise as she tapped out her indecision against the china glaze.

If there had been no else involved in her…problem…it would have been easy to turn to her superiors. But Kevin was directly responsible and at least 2 of his co-workers had, if not physically assisted, then very obviously turned an extremely blind eye at the relevant moments. She was prepared to face any and all consequences for her actions and had readily accepted that from the start. But the thought that she might drag others down with her…

"Hot chocolate for breakfast?" A voice came from behind her. "It must be serious."

Garcia jolted, almost spilling the cocoa. She turned.

"Sorry, did I make you jump?" Emily apologised.

"No."

"It's OK, I'm used to it. Startling people, the shocked faces… Agent Collins, from records, you know the one with the big…" She waved a hand in front of her face.

"Glasses." Garcia supplied.

"Nose." Emily said at the same time. "When he first saw me, he did the best double take I have ever seen and walked straight into the potted plant outside of Strauss' office. He got tangled up, leaves and compost everywhere."

"I was wondering where that went." Garcia said, aware of the hollowness of her own voice. "I liked that plant."

Emily frowned. "Hey, are you OK?"

"I put seven marsh mellows in here." Garcia told her and held out her mug. "So no. I'm not."

Then she took a deep breath, held her head up high and began towards Hotch's office.

-o0o-

Bennington Sanatorium,

Las Vegas, Nevada

Spencer watched his mother frowning down at the scrabble letters in front of her. The game was in its final stages, with only a handful of letters left, and their scores were almost evenly matched. His mother was winning. She often did when they played this version of the game, the version they had made up many years ago where all the words were written in old English. And since there hadn't been any recognised spelling before the advent of the dictionary, any letter combination for any word was acceptable providing it had appeared somewhere, in some text, between the 14th and 16th Centuries.

The length of the game was testament to both his and his mother's distraction. Diana had not employed the careful planning tactics she normally did so that the letters she used were placed where they would be no use to him.

She was worried about him.

His mother had guessed there was something wrong the moment she laid eyes on him. She was always so perceptive during her lucid phases. But 5 days later, he still wasn't able to tell her. He didn't know where to begin. With Lucy? With Rhodes? With the sexual assault that he had never mentioned? Or some vague place in the middle just to explain that when he went home to Virginia he wouldn't be returning to work right away. He would be stepping into the witness box to give evidence in the most important trial of his life and he wouldn't be going in there as a federal agent, he was going in as the victim. A jury of his peers would listen to him, would see the photographic evidence and…

Spencer was having difficulty seeing beyond that, even though he knew logically that post-sentencing, he would be back at the BAU, at his desk, at the round table, on the jet, in front of maps and whiteboards… His life would continue and the Coos Bay part of it would be Over and In The Past in a way that it hadn't been before.

There was just so much to say that now couldn't be said. It was too late and become too complicated.

All the truly terrible events of his life, she did not know.

Diana finally put down her tiles, making the word "fayre" with a triple score on the Y.

Spencer carefully laid out his remaining letter tiles and finally admitted to himself as he did so that this event too would be lost to her. And he would face it as he had faced everything: alone.

-o0o-

Hotch got up from his chair and moved swiftly around his desk. "You hacked the files a federal investigation?"

"I'm sorry." Garcia raised her hands and waved them about. "I was just so worried about Reid. And when I get worried I can't think straight and I just wanna help my babies and…"

"If you were discovered, it could comprise the prosecution's case."

"No one else knows. I made sure of that." She told him. "I know it was wrong but I…" Her voice was tight with emotion, "I just needed to check their technician's work because I do this tech stuff for this team and I know that sounds, like, super-possessive but that's just the way I feel and I can't turn it off." Anxiety filled her face. "I don't know this Andrew Gleeson, I don't know his work and if I don't know someone, I can't trust them and if I can't trust them I don't want them working for my family and I couldn't take the chance that he missed something." Garcia said hurriedly.

"And did he miss something?"

She looked ashamed. "No."

Yet she wouldn't be here if it were nothing.

"But there is something?"

"The file that Rhodes kept on the fertility clinics that he used is much smaller than it should be. That happens when a portion has been deleted. Andrew wasn't able to recover it."

"And you were?"

"No." She admitted. "Maybe if I had direct access…"

Hotch thought a moment and his silence seemed to fray Garcia's nerves even more and she took up a little pacing. "I just can't stop thinking about what was deleted. I can't get the pictures that Milo Kullen took out of my head and I'm so afraid there was more and Reid's going to have to see them. And I don't know if I should warn him or-"

"How likely is it that the files could be recovered?"

"It…isn't likely, sir." Garcia admitted. "The only way we're going to find out what's missing is if…Kimball Rhodes tells us."

-o0o-

Reid got of the taxi, pulling his heavy bag with him. His muscles ached from being cramped into an economy seat that was too small for even a man of his slight build. He paid the driver then walked up the short set of stone steps outside his apartment block. Reid didn't live in a particularly well-off area and there was no doorman so he fumbled in his pockets for his keys, juggling his satchel and bag.

His keys made a clatter as they slipped from his fingers and tumbled down the steps. He dropped his bag in the doorway and went to retrieve his keys.

As he bent to pick them up, he caught movement at the corner of his eye that made him turn his head. He straightened up. The pavement across the street was empty. Cars shushed passed.

Reid frowned, unable to shake the feeling that someone had been there, watching.

-o0o-

7 November 2011

United States Courtroom, Washington DC

Heavy rain pelted down outside of the courthouse, but neither Hotch nor Rossi made a move to go inside. A few metres away, huddled under a large navy blue umbrella, Emily and JJ were locked in conversation but they stopped when Hotch spoke.

"They're here."

They all watched as Morgan's car draw up and he and Garcia got out, the former offering the latter his jacket to hold over her head as they hurried through the rain.

Morgan frowned and beat Hotch to the question. "Where's Reid?"

"We thought he was coming with you." Emily replied.

"I thought JJ was picking him up."

They all looked at JJ. "Spence and I…" She began, looking uncomfortable, "we're really not there yet."

Morgan reached for his phone but before he could tap up Reid's name, a taxi pulled up on the opposite side of the road and the young man in question got out.

They saw Reid look up at the tall imposing court building. He licked his lips.

It had begun.

-end of part one-