St. Martin's Episcopal Church
Woodley Park
Washington DC
Spencer
It was a much smaller church than the National Cathedral, Spencer noted as he walked inside. It dated from about the same time frame, was far more Gothic than the very modern Northwest Community. But by his admittedly rough estimate it would hold 200 people, maybe 300, no more. It was stone on the outside, aged white plaster on the inside, dark wood, windows that looked to have been made by Tiffany. They even had pews; at least he thought they were pews, as opposed to the hotel conference chairs at Northwest. He slid into the back pew and sat. It was, in short, exactly how he always pictured a church should look like. It felt comfortable, somehow right.
The unnerving part was being in a church without anyone. He was used to doing this with Morgan now, to be able to follow his lead on when to stand, when to sit. He rather didn't think Elizabeth was going to be able to help him with that, not a clue where she was, and beside, if Northwest was any indication there was a public speaking element to this. He rather wondered what her speech was going to be on. No, wait; they called it a sermon, didn't they? Still, ought to be interesting.
An older couple slid in next to him and pulled some books out of a box attached to the back on the pew in front of him. There were more in there so he took them out to have a look. A book of music, that would be the hymnal, and something called The Book of Common Prayer. After a few moments to orient himself with the layout he realized that it was a program of sorts, laying out everything that was going to happen, the readings for the day, the point on the ecclesiastical calendar, and so on. Ritual junkie, he realized, the same rituals to mark the same days of the calendar, major life transitions, and holidays. That sort of thing had drawn community together throughout history, he knew. There was something comforting about the sameness of ritual.
The older lady next to him turned and smiled. "First time here, dear?"
Spencer blinked. He was not accustomed to having strangers just talk to him, randomly, "Um, yes, actually." What was he supposed to say, that he wasn't a believer, he was only here because he was dating the Reverend and was curious about what she did for a living. That couldn't be right.
"Oh. Welcome, then. There's coffee after." With that she turned back to her books.
Spencer looked back to the front. Not only had someone talked to him but this group offered coffee. Nice.
Slowly the place filled up, maybe three-quarter full. An organ started playing, then there were bells, then someone stood and said they were all singing something from some page in the hymnal. Admittedly he was not paying attention; he was looking around to see where Elizabeth could be, since they were clearly getting started. Everyone stood and started singing, mostly painfully out of tune. After a moment he realized there was a small parade of people in black and white costumes heading down the center aisle, carrying candles and attempting to sing. Elizabeth was at the end of the parade, her costume far more elaborate. That ought to look heavy, he thought, but she makes it look graceful.
When the members of the parade reached the front the music stopped, and they all took their places. Elizabeth stood at the front and looked out over the crowd. "Blessed be God, the Father, the Son and The Holy Spirit." She said in her quiet drawl, opening the ritual.
Hidden in the crowd, Spencer settled in to watch. It was classic, simple and lovely.
Right up until the first reading.
One of the people from the parade stood and moved to the lectern. "A reading from the book of Leviticus"
Then
Abandoned Shack
Rural Georgia
It was cold. It was bone frigid cold. And it stank of burning fish livers and blood and him. His head hurt and he felt like throwing up wouldn't be a bad plan right now, but when you were nose to nose with an Unsub and tied to a chair it was better to concentrate on the task at hand and empty your stomach later.
"You're a liar."
"I am not a liar."
"Lying is a sin."
"I am not a liar."
Spencer watched as Tobias, no his father, came over and picked up his foot. This could not be good. "This will be over quickly if you just confess your sins." He said.
"I'm not a sinner."
"We're all sinners."
Spencer watched in growing panic as Charles Hankel pulled off his shoes. Why, he thought, why is he doing this? "And the Lord spoke unto Moses saying Speak unto all the congregation of the children of the Lord and say unto them Ye shall be Holy for I the Lord your God am Holy."
Charles Hankel seemed pleased. "You know Leviticus."
"Every word of the Bible," Spencer told him, "I can recite it for you."
"The devil knows how to read too." Charles informed him
Damn it, that was supposed to help. "I'm not a devil." Spencer told him. "I'm not a devil, I'm a man, and my name is Spencer Reid and I have a mother and I have a father just like you and they taught me the Bible and look, let me just, let me just say the Bible and…and…
Now
St. Martin's Episcopal Church
Woodley Park
Washington DC
Thelma
It was Thelma's habit to stand at the back during the masses. Someone always needed something, a young mother needed to know where she could change a diaper or someone needed a bathroom or someone was late and needed a prayer book. And every so often Reverend Bess noticed something from her point of view, and would catch her eye and she or one of the ushers would go deal with someone asleep or in tears or once they had to call 911 for a heart attack.
But what she'd never expected was to have that tall, well-dressed young man sitting in the back row to stop and start staring off into space. Or for all the color to drain out of his face, or for him to suddenly bold for the door. She didn't have to catch Bess' eye to know to go after him and see what was what.
She found him standing in the garden, looking around at the still winter bare trees, still pale and clearly confused. "Excuse me. Excuse me son. Excuse me." She came close enough, but knew better than to touch. She just stood there, calling to him, until he turned around and came back enough to see her. "Are you all right?"
"Um…um yeah, I'm…um..."
"Why don't you come over here and sit down for a minute." Without actually touching him she guided him over to one of the benches in the garden, where she could perch on the arm and talk while still keeping an eye on the door. She watched him sit and pull his bag close to him, either for safekeeping or protection, she couldn't quite tell which. "I ought to introduce myself, I'm Thelma Parnell the church secretary here."
"I'm, um, Dr. Reid. I, um, actually just came to see Elizabeth…um…Reverend Bess. Um, wow I'm, um…I'm sorry for interrupting everything."
At that Thelma's heart cracked. Not another one, she thought, Dear Lord why? "Oh no, you didn't interrupt a thing. Mass is still going on. If you want to sit out here and wait for her I know she won't mind. Or, you know, we have coffee going in the hall, if it's too cold out here. Or you could wait in the library."
"You have a library?"
"Yes, this way," she led him into the hall foyer and then up the stairs. The library was tucked under the eaves, the ceiling rather low at some points. Or it would be for someone that tall. It was a quiet room with a table in the center, a couple of chairs, and a small library of theology and philosophy texts going back a hundred years or more. She looked over and noted how eagerly he was already looking over the shelves. "Now mind your head. This window looks out over the courtyard, so you can tell when mass lets out if you want to join us for coffee. I'll let Bess know you're here."
"Great. Thank you so much." He sounds so relieved, she thought, and not as embarrassed as he did, that's good. She left him up there with the books, where he seemed right at home.
Thelma sighed as she headed back through the sacristy toward the office. She'd wondered about calling a rector so young, but Harry had reassured her that it would all work out, that yes Bess was young and new to the field but with a little support and a chance for a quiet start she had the potential for years of service and good work in her. And Thelma could see that now, she was coming along splendidly. Granted she had thought her odd at first, what her staring off into space every so often, and jumping if you touched her without warning. But when she went to Harry he had explained what C-PTSD was, and how Bess had been in treatment for years, and how she was really doing fine, all things considered. When Harry told her what had caused it she couldn't help but come around on Bess' side and offer her support. They would get her the best start, she deserved it.
What she hadn't expected was a kindred soul once Tommy and Monica took her grandbabies and ran off to live with that same monster out in Arkansas. Bess had been right there for all of it, and was still to this day, fighting him as best they could. It was small, small victories, but victories all the same, and she was grateful for Bess' leadership in them.
But even she admitted it was a combination of gratitude and selfishness that fueled her prayers. Dear Lord, she thought as she settled at her desk in the closed offices, You and I have talked every day about how that young woman deserves a good man in her life, and about how I would love to have that manse full of children. I had hoped he was the right one, but now I have to wonder what You're doing. You have my trust, of course, but if You don't mind, I'm still going to worry. Amen. What did my generation do to our children, she wondered as she picked up the phone and dialed from memory.
"Hey Harry, it's Thelma. Can you call me back tonight? We need to talk."
After mass she waited for Elizabeth in the sacristy so she could help her out of her vestments. Elizabeth was pulling them off almost as soon as she got in the door. Thelma could tell she'd been worried as she greeted the congregation after mass, not paying the slightest bit of attention as she looked for someone. Now there was worry in the younger woman's voice. "Was that Spencer I saw running out during the first reading?"
"Yes it was." Thelma replied, carefully helping her pull the delicate voluminous garments off and putting them away in the correct manner and order. "I tucked him into the library, where he's probably still waiting. He seemed a lot more comfortable up there."
"He would, thank you ever so. What happened?"
Thelma took Elizabeth by the arm to be sure she had her full attention. "He had a flashback, sure as I've ever seen one."
Now it was Elizabeth's turn to have the color drain from her face, to get that look of fear and concern and sadness in her eyes. "Are you sure?" She asked softly, after a long moment.
Thelma could only nod. "And he had no idea what to do with one. You were never that bad."
Elizabeth nodded. "All right, I should go find him before I go into the hall." She finished removing her vestments and handed them over.
Thelma took the linen robe in her arms. "Are you sure? Bess, you're barely over this yourself. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Elizabeth got a distant, soft look on her face as she went to wash her hands. Something Thelma had never seen before. "Absolutely, Thelma, he's hurting, that's all. He's a good man, and what he does is far more important than anything I will ever do. You and Harry didn't give up on me; I'm not going to give up on him. And besides…." She broke it off there, paused for a long moment as she turned off the tap.
"And besides?"
Elizabeth seemed to shake herself and Thelma actually saw her blush. "And besides, Satan is not going to win on my watch." And with that she was out the door.
Some dialog from Criminal Minds episode 2:16 "Revelations". No copyright infringement intended
