Title: Losing My Religion by Lexikal (Chapter Twenty Five)
Rating: M for graphic violence against a child and language (in the first chapter, chapter 8 and chapter 10 so far)
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Summary: After two years away from his father and his father's violent rages, Spencer Reid, now ten, is returned home. Spencer has changed... but has William Reid?
Author's Note: Really time to get working on these stories. For those who haven't read my profile or haven't seen it, quite a long time ago I made a "fan fiction music video" for this story and posted it on facebook. The clips are from the movie "Martian Child" (I always thought that little Bobby Coleman looked a lot like how I would imagine Spencer Reid at about 10 or so (in the movie he is supposed to be 6, but was 8 in real life and I always imagined that Reid would be very small before puberty- he just seems like he would be one of those preternaturally tiny children before puberty and then, boom, would grow like a weed, tall and lanky and awkward. So yes, the Bobby Coleman character of Dennis in "Martian Child" does look very young for a 10 year old but it was the only movie I could think of to make a music video of this fan fic from, and in theory, John Cusack could look slightly like a 35 year old Jason Gideon. Anyway, this was my first ever fan fiction music video so it's not that great, but if you haven't seen it and would like to, this is the url: .com/watch?v=iKT7Rxjjy8o&feature=plcp&context=-xX
Oh, and if you haven't already seen it, "Martian Child" is an awesome movie (and might make a great last-minute Christmas present. It's based on a true story and sort of sad and angsty but has a great ending, and besides, I find John Cusack completely adorable). Moving on...
I would just like to touch on one comment I got in a review for the last chapter, about Reid being "just a kid" and Gideon needing to make the big decisions. Yes, Reid is a kid, but he is also a genius. Emotionally he is a little boy, but intellectually he is not "just a kid". Also, he is severely traumatized and Gideon wants to give him as much control over his life as possible so that he feels secure and safe. It is a tough balancing act. To simply "tell" Reid what to do and what is going to happen would probably not yield the best emotional responses from the kid. At the same time, he obviously shouldn't have to shoulder the pressure of having to make too many adult decisions. I am trying to write Gideon as a profiler who is fairly new to "raising" a child, understands Reid's trauma and fear and need for control and also wants to respect his impressive intelligence and not seem patronizing, but at the same time is trying to balance those realizations with the certainty that emotionally he is dealing with a scared, uneasy little boy healing from a major trauma. I am writing this little blurb just to let you guys know why I have written Gideon as I have and also, why and how he changes as the story progresses and he emotionally grows with Reid. Hope this makes sense.
This is Chapter Twenty Five. I am guessing this story is going to be about 35-40 chapters long. In case you were wondering.
Chapter Note: I am going to be jumping ahead in time, not by months but by weeks, to important events to move this story along. In this chapter, Reid sees a shrink about his abuse, and of course, is not a happy camper. Angst ahead. Please review. The following is a rather lengthy discussion of MBTI types in general and how and why I designated Reid, Rossi and Gideon as the types I did in this chapter. If you wish to skip the following preamble, skip ahead. You'll know where the story starts. SKIP THE FOLLOWING TO READ CHAPTER 25.
Also, the discussion of MBTI types, well, you might disagree with the designations I have given Reid and Gideon and Rossi but I did think about it and this is how I think they would rank. Despite his garrulous nature, I really do think Reid is an introvert (he prefers to be alone and needs to recharge and is fine in his own head, comfortable even and seems to become activated or over-stimulated when around others, which I attribute both to mild social anxiety stemming from his incredible genius, but also introversion. There is a general, incorrect consensus that all introverts are shy and taciturn. This is not true. The true mark of an introvert or an extrovert is how and where they get their energy from (introverts are drained by social exchanges no matter how much they like the people involved and need time to recharge afterwards, whereas extroverts are energized by social interactions- obviously everyone needs some alone time, but introverts also tend to get ideas from their internal world and their minds whereas the extrovert is inspired by people around him or her). I am an introvert. I am not shy and when I am interested in something I can be very, very talkative. At other times, I will be completely silent, not because I am being moody but because I thinking, daydreaming or the people around me are boring. I am not shy, I am not scared of people and I am not taciturn like Hotch (Hotch actually strikes me as an extrovert. Even though he is serious and says very little, he does seem to be more driven by the external world than by his own internal monologue). Anyway, I generally think of all the profilers on the show as N types (Intuitive, and not sensory) but of JJ and Garcia as 'S' types. Some may argue that Reid is an S (sensory type) because of his asperger's-like symptoms but I still think Reid is an N (iNtuitive type). I think Reid is more of a T (thinker, has nothing to do with intelligence, btw) type than F (Reid tends to make decisions based on logic and reasoning as opposed to letting his emotions colour his reactions) and he seems more like a P type to me than a J. (My type is INTP, incidentally, but I am nowhere as smart as Reid, obviously. However, I do share many similarities with the character, such as social awkwardness, rambling monologues when interested in a topic, interested in what others describe as minutiae and I live in my head and am fine spending days or even weeks alone... also, no fashion sense, no interest in trends, was bullied as a kid but barely noticed it because I was so internally focused, etc).
So I would rank Reid as an INTP (aka: "The Thinker", read about them here: .)
Gideon I see as an INFP (aka: "The Idealist", read about them here: .)
As for the rest of the team (for those interested) I see the others like this;
Morgan, ENFP (aka: "The Inspirer", read about them here: .)
Hotch, ENTJ (aka: The Executive read about them here: .)
JJ, ESFJ (aka: "The Caregiver", read about the type here: .)
Garcia, ESFP (aka: "The Performer", read about the type here: .)
Prentiss, ENTP (aka: "The Visionary", read about the type here: .) and last but not least...
Rossi, INTJ (aka: "The Scientist", read about the type here: .)
There are 16 basic types, and I realize that none of the characters above have the same type (as far as I am concerned). I believe this was an intentional strategy developed by the show's writers and creators to create unique characters thoroughly different from one another. In reality, a group of profilers would probably have a few members with the same type. If you don't know your MBTI type there are online tests, but you can also sort through the 16 types and read the descriptions. Here is a link to a free online MBTI "test": .com/type_
I have found others online which ask multiple questions and are probably more "accurate". However, personality sorting is not a science and ultimately it is up to you to decide if you fit with a type or not. Also, many people do not fit strongly into one category or another (for instance, they are not strongly introverted or extroverted but somewhere in the middle- I am strongly INTP for all factors, but for others, you may be on the fence of several different types.
STORY STARTS DIRECTLY BELOW:
"To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom." ~Bertrand Russell
Reid had spent over an hour getting dressed. He had emotionally strong-armed his foster father into buying him a pair of beige chinos, a dress shirt, suit jacket, tie patterned with differential equations and an adorable little pair of Gucci penny loafers. The bill had been considerable but Reid had decided after trying out his clothing that a baseball cap did not suit the look and had eventually selected an ironically expensive brown poor boy's hat to complete the look. God forbid anyone, let alone a shrink, see his head. He looked like a midget college professor.
"You know, he would have been fine to see you in sweats and a t-shirt." Gideon said honestly, trying to suppress a smirk as Reid rolled himself towards the dining table.
"We should have got the cufflinks..." Reid responded seriously.
Gideon held his tongue. Reid had seen a pair of gold cufflinks designed to look like matching pairs of C3P0's head. Gideon might have actually purchased them if they hadn't cost 500$.
"You're fine without the cufflinks."
"Where is my coffee? You said I could have some coffee? I ate that oatmeal..."
"Reid, relax, I'll get you some coffee."
"Black, 2 sugars." The kid quipped nonchalantly as if he was speaking to a barista and not his foster father. Gideon let it slide. In a little under 2 hours the kid would be sitting in a shrink's office, potentially discussing some of the most painful events of his life.
"Right away, sir. Will you be paying with cash today?" Gideon said cheekily, smiling broadly when Reid rolled his eyes.
It had been 2 weeks since Gideon had broached the subject of getting Reid a babysitter and had told the kid that he would select a psychiatrist. He had taken the kid out of the decision making process for the most part, and Reid, surprisingly, had seemed to settle down a bit. He had cried for about an hour in his room after the discussion, but whether from fear or relief, Gideon wasn't sure. He had been sulky and sullen for days, but also, Gideon was sure, less anxious overall. Gideon still hadn't got the kid a sitter, but he had made the first appointment to have Reid evaluated by a child psychiatrist. The shrink was a good guy, someone who had done work for the FBI by interviewing child victims of extreme violence. He had testified many times and was considered an expert in the field of understanding violence and its impact on children and adolescents.
When Gideon had told his young charge that the shrink he had selected worked, occasionally, for the FBI and specialized in treating child victims of violence, Reid had seemed both fascinated and extremely self-conscious. He still had balked at the idea of going, and had needed constant reassurance that he didn't have to say anything he didn't want and could ask to take a break whenever he wanted. Gideon had scheduled the first appointment 10 days earlier and in those ten days Reid had alternated between anger and fear and dull apathy and anxiety that he would be seen as "crazy and locked away".
His cheeks were also less swollen and he was on less pain medication. He'd had a few nightmares but no panic attacks, no crying spells, nothing major. For which Gideon was overwhelmingly glad.
He'd had his "interview" clothes for 5 days now and had tried them on several times. But today was go-day and Reid was understandably jittery.
"Gideon. I need my coffee." Reid said sternly and Gideon blinked, realized he had zoned out for a moment.
"Right. I guess I need some too."
"We have to be there in..." Reid glanced down at his new Seiko watch. "We have to be there in 104 minutes and 53 seconds. And the drive is 45 minutes approximately. We need about 15 minutes to park, enter, check in with reception and collect our thoughts. We'll need 20 minutes after our coffee to brush our teeth, pee, gargle, get out to the car... which means, from right this second we only have about 24 minutes to diffuse anxiety and drink coffee."
"Reid, I think you are overestimating how long it takes to get in and out of the car."
"Gideon, seriously, this is important."
"Yes. I know it is. I will get your coffee."
Reid, normally so animated and garrulous was eerily silent during the drive. He was playing with a new toy called "Pocket Repeat" which was similar, but smaller, to his Simon game. A little white cube with four coloured lights in each of the corners. The lights would blink in patterns, emitting different pitched beeps and the job of the player, much like in Simon, was to repeat the pattern. Hence the name, Pocket Repeat. Gideon had picked it up for Reid at Radio Shack for 5 bucks. The longer he cared for Reid the more certain he was becoming that Spencer Reid could not possibly own too many puzzles, games, books or art supplies.
Gideon was half-listening to Reid's performance with the game. So far the kid seemed to have repeated the pattern for at least 50 lights. They had been driving 15 minutes.
Before leaving, Gideon had asked Reid if he wanted to bring his plush dinosaur, Jason, along with him, to which Reid had replied: "I think a ten year old carrying around a generic plush sauropod in lieu of a literal security blanket would raise some questions about said 10-year-old's emotional health." Gideon hadn't pressed the issue but had grabbed the dinosaur and stuffed it into his briefcase along with the tape of Reid's dissociated disclosure of sexual abuse. He felt slightly guilty about the tape. He still hadn't really broached the subject with Reid to his satisfaction and the kid most definitely did not know he had been taped. When Reid found out- and no doubt he would eventually find out somehow- would he view this as an act of concern or of dishonesty?
Gideon stopped at a red light and checked the time. They had to be there for their 1:00 appointment in 59 minutes and they still had another 30 minutes or more to drive. God bless him, the kid had been right to insist on leaving lots of time for car entry and exit transitions.
"So..." Gideon started hesitantly, driving forward as the light hit green. "We will talk together at first. He will ask you basic, no-pressure questions. Remember, this guy is a good guy, really professional."
"Richard David Martin, MD, PhD...holder of multiple PhD's, actually. I wonder how his knowledge of Physics helps him understand human behaviour?"
"The man is very bright. I think you will be able to relate to him."
There was a loud buzz which indicated that Reid had failed to repeat the pattern on his pocket repeat in time.
"What is his Myers-Brigg Personality Indicator type?"
"What?"
"His MBTI designation? Myers-Brigg Type Indicator? The famous psychometric questionnaire proposed by Carl Jung in 1921 and designed by Katharine Cook Briggs and her daughter Isabel Briggs Myers during the second world war as a tool originally designed to assist women in entering industrial workforces tailored to their personality preferences to help optimize work efficiency. The first version of the test being published in 1962? Surely..."
"I know what the MBTI is, Reid. I don't know what his type is."
"Well, let's break it down. You are a profiler and I am bright. You obviously know my type."
Reid was rambling, intellectualizing. It was a mode of behaviour Gideon had come to expect from the boy when he was stressed and worried and needed to feel in control.
"Um, actually, I don't know your type. What is it?"
"Guess." Reid said simply, but his voice was almost playful, which Gideon saw as a good sign.
"Um...okay...I...IS...IST...J. ISTJ?" Gideon hedged, knowing that Reid behaved in many asperger's type behaviours, and also knowing that he had deliberately chosen the wrong type to give the boy an opportunity to vent his growing anxiety by explaining about types.
Reid made the sound effect of a loud buzzing noise, not unlike the sound heard by Jeopardy contestants who answer a question incorrectly.
"Wrong. I am an INTP. I can't believe you got that wrong. Do you know your type?"
"I do."
"Can I guess?" Reid said speedily. With each minute that passed the kid seemed to be talking a bit quicker. His voice was tremulous, shaky with adrenaline and he was trying oh-so-hard to hold everything together and seem confident.
"Sure," Gideon invited, warmly.
"Um...I think you are an INFP. Am I close?"
"Nailed it." Gideon said, chuckling a little. "I can see you as an INTP, now that I think about it..."
"Good. Because that is what I am. Do you know Rossi's type?"
"I know David's type, yes. Let me guess. You want to try and guess?"
"He has to be an INTJ. He is an introvert, intuitive, he is definitely more of a thinking than feeling type and he is too confident in his assessments to be a P type like me."
"Right again. You're good at this Reid."
"You don't know what type Dr. Martin is?" Reid inquired, almost in a whine.
"Sorry. No. It was never of pressing importance. Why are you so focused on it?"
"Knowing a person's type can be very helpful in deciding how to approach them."
"Reid..." Gideon let out a weary sigh. "He doesn't want you to put on a front. He is there to get to know you, not some mask you are wearing."
"If he is good at his job, wearing a mask won't matter." Reid said quickly, almost confidently. "I am going to assume he is an extrovert. Most psychiatrists are. They deal with people and are energized by people as a general rule. It's not a hard and fast rule, but also, 70% of the population is extroverted so the odds are in that favour. I am, after all, from Vegas. If he is as good at his job as you claim, he is probably an Intuitive type. Sensing types would miss too much to be good at forensic psychiatry. I have no idea whether he is an F type or T type, but I am leaning towards T, just based on some of the PhDs he has earned. Most physicists are T types and he has a PhD in physics as well as psychiatry so there's that. And, it's not a hard and fast rule but most shrinks tend to be J types. They have to assign diagnoses with confidence and most P types would not feel secure labelling people permanently and using said diagnoses to assign psychotropic drugs. So... I am guessing ENTJ. ENTJs are not normally the type I would assign to most psychiatrists, but a shrink with multiple PhDs who doesn't do therapy but does do assessments and is an expert court witness and studied law? Yeah. That makes sense."
"Reid, calm down."
"ENTPs are natural leaders who are decisive and dislike inefficiency and incompetence."
"Reid, you may be right no his type. But you are far from incompetent and he is not there to judge you."
"Do you think I am right in my initial assessment?"
This elicited another smirk from Gideon. The kid was so nervous, trying so hard to make a good impression, to appear competent and mature and precocious and intelligent. The truly ironic part was that Reid was naturally mature and competent and precocious and intelligent and his growing anxiety was actually making him seem more vulnerable and self-conscious than he really was.
"I think your assessment might be spot-on, kiddo. You'll be fine. He is a very intelligent man, and yes, he is generally confident, but he is also extremely bright."
"Even William James Sidis made mistakes..." Reid drawled, somewhat cryptically. Gideon had heard the name before, but for the life of him couldn't pin it. He glanced at his watch. They still had approximately 25 minutes of driving ahead, so the profiler decided to take the plunge, for Reid's sake.
"Reid? I'm a little rusty. The name sounds familiar but who, exactly, is William James Sidis?" Gideon kept his tone light and cheerful, as if he was genuinely interested in the answer. Waited.
Gideon heard the sharp, surprised intake of breath that denoted that the ten year old in the backseat was utterly flabbergasted with his foster father's abysmal ignorance and then Reid began to ramble, sounded disconcertingly like a human encyclopaedia.
Gideon pulled into one of the many free parking spaces at the forensic sciences building off the university hospital and killed the engine. They had 35 minutes to spare. Giving 10 minutes for getting Reid in his chair, wheeling him up and into the building, taking the elevator and checking in left 25 minutes to use the bathroom, talk and build up anxiety.
The forensic sciences building was a squat, 5 storey structure made of grey brick with wide, open windows and an expansive courtyard. Reid craned his face to the window and peered out anxiously.
"We're here." Gideon announced unnecessarily. Saw Reid nod silently out of the corner of his eye.
"You ready?"
"Um... yeah. I think so." The kid's voice, so chatty and enthusiastic while describing the late William James Sidis had fallen to a forlorn whisper.
"It will be fine, buddy. Remember, he is on your side. We'll all meet together at first, talk, get to know each other. He's a good guy and he's on your side."
"Yeah..." Reid agreed. Gideon did a double check. Reid was looking fairly pale. Not especially so, but definitely whiter than usual. And he was usually pretty ghostly.
"After, remember what I said. After, if you are up to, we can go out for lunch and then hit Toys R Us, get you one of those Nintendos? And some games?"
"And books." Reid announced listlessly.
"Sure thing. We can hit the library too."
"And I don't have to say anything I don't want to?"
"Right. Remember what we discussed? What do you say if you feel overwhelmed or feel unable to answer something honestly? Instead of lying?"
"I don't feel comfortable answering that and instead of lying I am simply unable to respond to your inquiry at this time." Reid said robotically. Gideon sighed, leaned over, but a hand on the boy's shoulder. It was trembling slightly.
"Right. Remember, you are in control. With kids they usually don't talk about sensitive issues for very long, usually not longer than 30 minutes. And you'll probably get a break after the first 15 minutes."
"I only have to see him this once, right?" Reid said, gulping audibly.
"Well, today is important. Depending on several factors he may want to speak to you again. But don't worry about that now." Gideon tightened his hold on the boy's shoulder, tried to will some of his own confidence and love for the kid into him with that simple touch. Reid grabbed his Pocket Repeat off the seat and handed it to his foster father.
"Could you put this in your brief case, please?"
"Yes. Sure. But don't you want to leave it in the car?" Gideon asked gently.
"I...I don't know. I might need it." So much for not needing security items.
"No problem, buddy. What do you say we get this show on the road?"
"I think it's funny how you overuse English idioms when you're trying to placate me." Reid said tremulously, voice barely audible.
"What country's idioms would you like me to use?" Gideon retorted gently, eyes glistening with compassion. That got a tiny smile from the kid. Gideon smiled back and then, impulsively, leaned over and hugged the child in front of him. Spencer Reid stiffened in his arms for a moment before finally relaxing a little bit. He was still pretty rigid, but no longer felt like a cord of wood. Gideon sat back and sighed, wiped his eyes.
"Why...why did you just hug me?" Reid ventured uncertainly.
"Because I love you, kiddo."
"I...my chair is in the trunk of the car." Reid announced, looking both embarrassed and wistful. Something twisted in Gideon's stomach, a sad, painful realization that the boy craved love, but at the same time, was unused to it and overwhelmed by it.
"Right." Gideon said, and opened the door with the a click. He stood outside in the warm August air for a moment and shut his eyes. Said a silent prayer.
Dear God, I know I don't pray to you often or even with any real faith. But if you do exist, please look out for this little boy today. Give him courage. Give him strength. Let him know he is loved. Whatever happens Today, let him know he is loved.
Chapter 26 will be posted as quickly as possible. I want to get to at least Chapter 30 before Christmas. That is a big challenge for me as I am out of practice with writing, but I have a few other large multi-chaps to finish beside this one and I want to start working on my own independent writing in the New Year so this is great practice. Of course, this stuff is more stream of consciousness writing than my "personal" novel writing, but the feedback is great and writing quickly and without abandon is a good way of getting into the habit of putting your thoughts down on paper (er...a screen) and developing stamina for writing. Oh yeah, please review. Reviews are like Christmas presents to me. If you read this and liked it, please take a few seconds to tell me. If you didn't like it, please tell me. If you were indifferent... you get the idea.