Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay! I started back to school and life has been extremely busy. I just HAD to update today because we have exactly ONE MONTH until Season 10 starts! WHOO! Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I've had several PMs and reviews asking about Reid's headaches. Well, in this chapter, you'll get to find out. Thanks once again to Annber03 for being an AMAZING editor! I couldn't have written this chapter without you. Please read and review, folks! It only takes a second!
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Criminal Minds or the rights to any of the songs listed in this chapter.
Warning: Contains MAJOR spoilers from 9X09 "Strange Fruit".
Hope you enjoy!
Spencer sat at his desk inside the bullpen, finishing up the file for their recent case in Chicago. He heard heels clicking on the tile floor behind him. He didn't bother to turn around, knowing it was Garcia.
"Put that paperwork away, 187. You're coming with me," she declared, slapping her hands down on his desk. He looked up at her, confused.
"What?" he asked. "Where are we going?"
"You're eating lunch with me. Right now."
"But—"
"No, buts. We need to talk." He sighed, knowing he couldn't argue with Garcia. I wonder what she wants to talk about. Probably Teagan.
"Okay," he answered. "But what I was trying to say was that I brought my lunch today."
"So did I. But we can still eat together. In my office, where it's quiet."
"Oh," he replied, nodding.
"Come on, Boy Wonder."
"Be there in a second." He stood up and walked into the break room to heat the soup he brought for lunch. He stepped around Morgan, who appeared to be talking on the phone to his mother, from what he could tell, and refilling his coffee cup. Morgan waved to him and stepped out of the break room. Spencer grabbed his soup out of the microwave, walked to Garcia's office and knocked on the door.
"It's open!" she shouted. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, taking a sip of his soup. She gestured to an empty swivel chair next to her while she mixed dressing into her salad.
"So, what's up?" he asked. "What do you need to talk about?"
"You, Hon." He furrowed his brow.
"Me?" Did I do something to make her mad?
"Yes, you. How are you?" she asked, leaning forward and propping her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hands.
"I'm fine," he answered.
"Cut the crap, Reid," she stated, pursing her lips. "I've known you for years, and while I may not be a profiler, I know when you're fine and when you're not. I know all the stuff with Teagan's worrying you. And it can't be easy. So I'm going to ask again. How are you?" He sighed again. She'd make one heck of a profiler.
"I don't know what to do," he answered honestly, looking down into his cup of soup and gripping it a little tighter. "She's recovering and I know it's going to take a while, but I don't know how to help her. And I wish I just knew something that would make it easier for her."
"Oh, Reid," Garcia replied, reaching forward and gently patting his forearm. "You're such a sweetie! But I think you have been helping her whether you realize it or not."
"I hope so," he stated, looking up at her, his eyes misting a little. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear them, and licked his lips before glancing back down at his cup.
"I know so," she replied, smiling gently. "You've done so much for her. You went all the way into Fredericksburg during rush hour to help her when she had a panic attack. And she told me you made her tea and talked to her afterwards." She raised her eyebrows.
"Shall I continue? You stayed with her the entire time she was in the hospital, only leaving when you had to work. Hell, you slept in that chair the first night, 'cause Morgan and I saw you." He stared down at his cup, smiling shyly.
"You know," he began, glancing up at her again and licking his lips nervously, "That I, um, told her I loved her?"
"You did? Oh, I'm so happy for you, Reid!" she squealed, suddenly enveloping him in a quick hug.
"Yeah," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "This doesn't even seem real. Like the happiness I'm feeling should be reserved for someone else. Someone who's not…me." He looked down into his cup of soup again.
"Spencer Reid, don't you even dare!" she exclaimed. "You totally deserve this. You deserve her." He smiled shyly again and Garcia reached forward and ruffled his hair playfully.
"I have something for you," she stated, turning around and fishing in her bag. "I know you've probably already read it, but I think it'll help you. I give this to the victim's families I counsel occasionally." She handed him a book titled: Healing Together: A Couple's Guide to Coping with Trauma and Post-Traumatic Stress.
"Wow," he said, touched by the thought. "No, I haven't read this. Thank you, Garcia."
"Good. And you're welcome, Reid."
"Teagan, I think Spencer's here!" Lily called from the living room. Teagan came rushing out of her bedroom, fastening her earrings. She rushed to the door, nearly tripping over McDuffie in the process.
"Morning, Magic Man!" she greeted, wrapping her arms around his waist, noticing how handsome he looked in his charcoal gray peacoat, dark purple cardigan and purple button down shirt with dark purple patterned tie. His sidearm pressed against her as she hugged him, but she ignored it.
"Good morning, Sweetheart," he replied, tightening his arms around her and kissing the top of her head.
"Ugh, you're both so sweet, it's disgusting," Lily teased.
"Stop!" Teagan exclaimed. "You're just jealous!" Lily rolled her eyes.
"Whatever." Teagan turned around, grabbing Spencer by the hand and leading him into the kitchen.
"So, Magic Man, are you hungry? Lily made blueberry muffins. And they're really good!" She pointed to a cupcake carrier, filled with the breakfast treats.
"What are you talking about?" Lily yelled from the living room. "You took one little nibble and said you didn't want any more!"
"Ignore her," Teagan stated, waving her hand dismissively at the green-eyed brunette. "There's some fresh coffee too, if you'd like it."
"No, thanks," he replied. "I'm good."
"You sure?" He nodded.
"Okay. Well, I'm going to make a quick to-go cup of coffee and then we can go."
"Okay, Sweetheart. Take your time. I'll be in the living room." Spencer turned around and exited the kitchen, returning to the living room with Lily.
"Spencer. Can I talk to you for a second?" Lily asked in a hushed tone. Spencer nodded and Lily stepped closer to him.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"It's Teagan," she whispered, jerking her head towards the kitchen. He snuck a glance at Teagan, who was pouring coffee into an insulated thermos. Has she gotten worse? I just saw her two days ago. And I talked to her last night.
"What about her?" he murmured, looking back to Lily.
"Everything terrifies her. I dropped a spoon yesterday while baking and she shrieked and jumped like, half a foot."
"Has she had any nightmares recently?"
"She had one the other night, but none recently. If she has had them, she hasn't told me." He nodded as Lily jerked her head towards the kitchen again. Teagan appeared in the doorframe, twisting the top onto her coffee mug. He whipped around, facing her.
"Ready to go, Spence?" she asked, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.
"Whenever you are, Sweetheart."
"Thanks again for the ride. I hate making you do this."
"You're not making me do anything."
"You're awesome," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist again. "And I love you." There it was again. That…warmth…he always seemed to feel whenever she said those three words.
"I love you too," he replied as she stood up on her tip toes and kissed the tip of his nose.
"Oh, God. You're going to make me puke," Lily teased, zipping up her boots.
"Oh, shut up. I came home and found you practically going at it with Jared on the couch two nights ago and did I say anything?" Reid looked at his shoes and blushed, trying to get that particular image out of his head.
"I believe you said, 'My eyes! My eyes! I'm blinded for life!'" Spencer smirked, still looking at his shoes.
"That's beside the point," she said with a grin. "I still say you're jealous."
"Not a chance!" Teagan rolled her eyes.
"Come on, Spencer," she said, grabbing his hand. "Let's go before we're both late."
Spencer began scanning through the radio stations, trying to find one to settle on before pulling out into the road.
"Ooh! Fleetwood Mac! Stop!" she exclaimed.
"Who's Fleetwood Mac?"
"Do you know any music, Spence?" she teased, taking a sip of her coffee.
"Yes," he answered. "I just don't know who Fleetwood Mac is."
"Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and wouldn't you love to love her? Takes to the sky like a bird in flight and who will be her lover?" she sang along, tapping out the rhythm on her knees.
"Rhiannon? Is that what you said?" he asked, intrigued.
"Yeah. The name of the song is titled "Rhiannon"," she replied, bobbing her head along to the music.
"Rhiannon is a classic figure in Celtic or Welch literature. She appears in the Mabinogi, or a collection of prose stories from medieval Welch manuscripts. They draw from Celtic mythology, folktales, and medieval historical traditions," he stated, gesturing with one hand as he drove. She stared at him for a few moments, amused and fascinated by this new bit of information. Is there anything he doesn't know?
"Wow," she replied, reaching down into the cup holder for her thermos. "I don't know if this song has anything to do with that particular Rhiannon or not. I thought she was just an extremely beautiful woman who was a little bit of a seductress, maybe."
"According to Celtic mythology, she was the goddess of inspiration and the moon. And she was considered to be very beautiful."
"That's super cool! I know nothing about Celtic mythology, but I do know quite a bit about Greek mythology. When the Disney movie "Hercules" came out, I was so fascinated by it, I started doing research on Hercules and Greek mythology in general. Needless to say, it was very different from the Disney movie!"
"I can imagine. My mom used to teach medieval literature, so I know some of this from her."
"I didn't know your mom was a teacher! My mom is too! Did you have a favorite author or work from that time?"
"Well, medieval literature is a very broad subject. It spans nearly a thousand years, and while it's interesting, I've never studied it in depth, like my mom did, but my mother's favorite author is Margery Kempe."
"I've never heard of her," Teagan replied.
"She's credited as being the first person to ever write an auto-biography in the English language." Teagan nodded in response. "So what about your mom? What does she teach?"
"12th grade history and geography at Briarwood Academy. She also coaches the cheerleading squad there, too."
"Were you ever a cheerleader?" he asked.
"Definitely not! I was—still am—highly uncoordinated. I would have broken my leg or something! Mom actually enrolled me in dance lessons when I was younger, hoping it would help improve my clumsiness, but it didn't. I stayed in the classes because I really enjoyed them, but I was never remarkable or anything. I just really loved to dance. Still do, actually."
"I bet you were great," he stated, a genuine tone of kindness in his voice.
"Aww, you're cute when you lie," she teased, reaching over and patting his cheek gently. "I was the clumsiest dancer out there; Shelly, my best friend from high school, hell… everybody will attest to it. I was never allowed to go on pointe because my teacher thought I would break my ankles."
"You were that clumsy, huh?" he asked, giving her an amused smirk.
"Yes. Still am. What about you?"
"What about me?" he asked.
"Did you have any extra-curricular activities in high school?" she asked, studying him. He plays chess, so he was probably in the chess club. He may have been a thespian. Or maybe he was in the marching band…
"I was on the basketball team."
"Basketball? Really?" she asked. "I'm sorry, but I just never pegged you for the jock type."
"No, I never played basketball. I coached. I broke down the opposing team's shooting strategy."
"Oh," she replied. "When you first said you were on the basketball team, I thought you meant you played."
"No," he answered. "I was 12 when I graduated high school. I don't think they'd let me play, even if I was decent, because of risk of injury."
"Shoot! I always forget you graduated when you were a kid. Jesus, high school's confusing enough when you're 15. I can't imagine what it must have been like at 12."
"The course work was relatively simple. I was in A.P. classes my last two years."
"That wasn't what I was talking about, Spence," she said softly. "High school is hard academically, for most people, but hormones are raging, and there's just so much petty crap that shouldn't matter, but it does...and ugh!" She blew out a breath, exasperated.
"Yeah, high school can be rough," he answered, a slight tone of bitterness in his voice. She studied him for a moment, noting his tensed jaw and narrowed eyes. Where did that come from?
"Are you okay?" she asked, placing her hand over his. He blinked.
"Um, yeah. I'm fine," he answered, squeezing her hand. "I was just agreeing with what you were saying."
"Oh." She stared at him again, still not entirely convinced.
"You know, J.J. told me the other day that Rossi's thinking about having another dinner at his house. So if he does, would you like to go?" Teagan couldn't help but notice how Spencer's voice became just a little too bright as he changed the subject.
"Of course," she replied. "That sounds like fun! And Dave's a great cook!"
"He is."
"Speaking of dinner, it's Taco Night. Would you like to join us? Jared's supposed to come over and make some of his guacamole."
"Absolutely," he answered, turning into the parking lot of the hospital. "Do I need to bring anything?"
"Nope," she replied, as he parked the Volvo. "Just yourself and your appetite."
"Okay. I'll be back around 5:30 to pick you up."
"Sounds great, Magic Man. Thanks again for the ride!"
"No problem. Have a great day at work, Sweetheart. I love you."
"I love you, too. Be safe. And tell everyone I said hello," she stated, reaching for the door handle.
"I will," he answered, grabbing her hand and stilling her. He leaned forward and kissed her, his mouth lingering on hers. She pulled back and rested her forehead gently against his.
"I have to go," she stated, reaching into the floorboard for her purse.
"I know."
"I'll see you tonight," she said, reaching for the door handle again. His phone buzzed suddenly and he reached into his pocket to retrieve it. He sighed after reading the text message. "Got a case?"
"Yes, and it's local, but I don't know if I'll be able to come pick you up this afternoon."
"It's fine," she answered. "Gene may be able to give me a lift. If not, I'll call Lily. Don't worry about it."
"But—"
"Spencer," she said warningly. "Go before you're late. I'll get home, so don't worry, okay?" She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Okay," he answered. "I'll call you when I get finished. I love you."
"Love you, too." She waved, watching as he drove away, their conversation from earlier replaying in her mind. He and I are definitely going to have a talk later. She turned toward the entrance of the hospital and drew a deep breath. Here we go…
"Thanks again for breakfast," J.J. stated to Cruz as she headed towards the elevator. "Sorry we had to cut it short, but we have a case."
"No problem," Cruz replied. "It's hard to have a private conversation around here. Too many eavesdroppers." She paused for a moment. What are you waiting for? Ask him!
"Are you sure you shouldn't say anything?" J.J. asked Cruz as she rounded the corner,
"Positive," he replied seriously. She sighed.
"People think we're having an affair. Can't we just say we're on assignment?" she asked, shrugging.
"No one can know. What are you afraid of?" She let out a slight sardonic chuckle.
"The stares, the whispers. Spence has been asking me questions. Rossi's been onto us from day one." I've lied to these guys before. I don't think I'll be able to do it again! She turned around, noticing Garcia coming up behind them as she eyed them both suspiciously.
"Hello," Cruz said. "Good luck out there." He pointed to J.J. before walking away.
"Thank you," she replied, nodding as Rossi stepped off the elevator.
"Where you going?" Penelope asked.
"I got your text," he replied.
"I love you very much, but you need to read more than just the first sentence," Garcia stated, placing her hand on his shoulder and steering him back towards the elevator. "The case is like, 5 miles away."
"What the hell happened?"
"J.J. will fill you in. It's…it's crazy town!' she exclaimed, walking back toward her lair.
J.J. and Rossi arrived in the residential neighborhood, filled with nice homes and well-manicured lawns. When they pulled up outside the Johnson's residence, they both exchanged a similar look. Ah, more dysfunctional suburbia. They wandered into the backyard, amid the construction workers and police officers, noticing all the discovered graves. They stopped in front of a crime scene investigator who was dusting the dirt off the ribs of a skeleton. J.J. and Rossi looked at the display in slight horror before walking to the tent where the rest of the team was currently standing, skeletal remains of two bodies on tables before them.
"Water and power company was digging in the back yard and found the remains of two bodies," Hotch stated.
"How long have the Johnson's lived here?" Blake asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"35 years and they're upstanding citizens," Reid replied. "Husband's the block captain. The wife's on neighborhood watch."
"There's no indication of how long the bodies have been here," she stated, looking at the skeletal remains on the table.
"We're waiting for the M.E. to arrive," Morgan stated.
"Forensics will tell us how long they've been down there," Hotch said.
"Where's the family now?" Rossi asked.
"The husband and son work at the father's construction company. They're on their way back home right now. Mrs. Johnson's inside the house," Reid answered.
"I'm going to go talk to her," Hotch stated.
"How is she?" Rossi asked.
"Wishing we were Publisher's Clearinghouse," Morgan said. Rossi shrugged his shoulders in response. No surprise there. What the hell's been going on in this house? Rossi was jarred from his thoughts upon seeing Mrs. Johnson exit the house, shouting and screaming about the FBI and police officers trampling about. There was a brief moment of calm, with Hotch stepping in to diffuse the situation. The next thing Rossi knew, Lyle was tearing off down the street, Hotch's calls for the man echoing throughout the otherwise quiet neighborhood.
"Lyle?" Hotch called, chasing after the man, dashing rapidly down the middle of the street. "Lyle!" He raised his gun, planning on subduing the man if he needed to. He followed Lyle to a wall, where the man was trying to climb it unsuccessfully.
"Lyle, get down off the wall," he ordered, his gun still raised. "And let me see your hands." The man slowly swung down from the wall, hands in the air.
"Please, don't shoot," he begged.
"We just want to talk to you, Lyle," Hotch stated, gun still raised.
"I didn't do nothing," he replied.
"I understand," Hotch said. "I just want to talk to you." Lyle stared at him, clearly afraid and unsure of what Hotch would ask him. He lowered his gun and Lyle slowly relaxed.
"Come on, Lyle. Let's go." When they returned to the Johnson's residence, Rossi and Blake were in the driveway watching as Hotch steered the man towards the black SUV.
"This is going to be a long case," Rossi stated.
"Yep," Blake replied.
"Good afternoon, everyone!" Teagan greeted, stepping into the large day room where at least a dozen elderly men and women were currently seated. She worked the Geriatrics Unit once a week. She adored working with this group, although it was rare that she worked with the same people twice, except for Estelle and Joe, an elderly married couple that were constantly in and out of the hospital. Today, however, she was surprised to see many familiar faces in attendance.
"Good afternoon, Teagan," Estelle greeted with a wave before smoothing down the fabric of her wrinkled blue sweatshirt.
"Good afternoon, Miss Estelle. How are we doing today? Where's Mr. Joe?" she asked, looking around room for the older gentleman.
"He's not here this morning. He's not feeling well, so he decided to stay in his room today."
"I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "I hope he feels better soon."
"I don't know if he's going to get better," Estelle stated sadly. "The doctor doesn't give him much time." A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with a shaky hand.
"Miss Estelle, don't you worry 'bout ole Joe," Curt, another man in the group stated with a smile. "He's tough." He always knows how to cheer people up. There was a gentle soul underneath that tough exterior.
"Curt's right!" Gladys shouted loudly. Teagan tried to stifle her laughter at the reaction on everyone's faces. Gladys had a hearing problem, so she yelled constantly and sometimes startled the other clients. "He'll get better; you'll see."
"I'll be married to that man sixty years this spring," Estelle stated. "And I just don't know what I'd do without him. He's my soul mate." Teagan smiled softly and gently patted Estelle's hand as her thoughts drifted to Spencer. Sixty years. Wow. If Spencer and I ever were to marry, could we stay married that long? I've certainly never felt this way about anyone. Or connected with anyone this well. Ever. God…could Spencer be my soul mate?
"I certainly think Mr. Joe will come around," Teagan said. "And sixty years? That's quite an accomplishment!"
"Oh, you young people don't know nothing about love nowadays. It's wasted on all of you," Estelle said, waving her hand dismissively. Teagan laughed in response and walked over to the CD player. Oh, if only you knew…
"I've decided to skip our greeting and warm-up today because all this talk of love and the past gave me an idea for an activity. How many of you like Billie Holliday?"
"Oh yes ma'am!" Gladys shouted. The other members nodded enthusiastically.
"Do you know the song "Pennies from Heaven"? I've got some pennies from different years and I'm going to hand them out while the song plays. And you look at the year on the penny and you tell me something that you remember from that year. If you can't read the year, I'll read it to you. I'll play the song a couple of times so you'll have time to think of a memory." She switched on the CD player and began playing the song and passing out pennies to the people in the room. After she passed them out, she allowed the song play a second time, as she went to assist people who couldn't see the year on their penny. After the song played a third time, she cut off the CD player.
"Did everyone think of a memory from the year on their penny?" They all nodded or murmured a quick "Yes" in response. "Okay. So we'll begin with Miss Estelle and finish with Mr. Rodney. That sound good? So, Miss Estelle, what year did you get?"
"1954," she stated.
"And what's a memory you have from 1954?" Teagan asked.
"It was the year I married my sweet Joe. I was 20 at the time. Joe was 26. We got married May 22, 1954 in the church where I grew up. Such a beautiful ceremony. All of my family came. Even my cousins from California! I wore the prettiest white dress that Mama found in the Sears Roebuck catalog. And there were lots of flowers, of course." Teagan smiled as the woman began recalling her wedding day.
"I was so nervous and fidgety like you wouldn't imagine! But when I began walking down the aisle towards Joe, all that nervousness went away. His eyes met mine and all those doubts and fears I had went away," she stated, her eyes misting. "Sixty years….oh, I just can't lose him now! I can't." She began sobbing and Teagan held her hand, patting it gently while other members murmured encouraging words to her. After Estelle began to calm down, Teagan turned towards Gladys.
"Miss Gladys, what year do you have on your penny?" Teagan asked loudly.
"2000."
"Do you have a memory from that year?"
"My first grandbaby was born. Little Sophie. Well, she's not so little now. She's about to start high school. I can't believe how big she's gotten!"
"I bet you're proud of her," Teagan stated.
"Oh, I am. Smart as a whip. And pretty too. See?" Gladys asked, reaching into her purse and brandishing a picture for them to see. "Luckily, she got that from my side of the family, because her daddy's just…homely," Gladys face twisted into a slight sneer. Teagan stifled yet another giggle.
"Gladys, you should watch your mouth! I've met your son-in-law. He's just as nice as he can be!" Rodney shouted.
"I didn't say he wasn't nice! He's just ugly."
"Miss Gladys," Teagan interrupted. "How about we let someone else have a turn, okay?"
"All right." Teagan moved around the circle, listening to them reminisce and prompting discussion when needed. After Mr. Rodney spoke about when he got his first car, Teagan stood to gather the coins.
"Wait!" Curt shouted. "You didn't go!"
"Oh, no, it's fine," Teagan answered.
"But you need a turn!" Gladys insisted.
"Yeah!" Estelle exclaimed. Teagan smiled, knowing there was no way she could argue with them.
"Well, let me get a penny." She reached into the bucket, pulling out a copper coin. She flipped it over in her palm, looking at the year. 2013.
"What year did you get, honey?" Gladys asked.
"2013," she answered, still staring at the penny in her palm. So much has happened this year. I was stalked without even knowing it, met Spencer, nearly lost my job, spent nearly two weeks in the hospital, got my job back…
"Well?" Gladys prompted. "What's your memory?" Teagan bit her lip, unsure of how or even what to answer. Everything that happened is so personal…
"She's in love," Estelle answered, beaming. "She's been all dreamy-eyed all day." Because she's right. I am in love. With Spencer Reid… but when did I even get to that point? When did I figure out I loved him?
"How did you know?" Teagan asked in amazement.
"It's just one of those things. Call it intuition, I suppose," she shrugged.
"So who's the lucky man?" Curt asked. "Is it Gene?"
"Heavens, no!" Estelle exclaimed. "At least I hope not!"
"No, it's not Gene, Mr. Curt," Teagan answered. "His name is Spencer." She blushed slightly.
"What's he do? Is he a nurse or doctor from here?" Gladys asked. Good Lord. Gladys is so nosy.
"Actually," Teagan began, "He is a doctor, but not a medical one."
"Oh, he's one of those smart men?"
"Yes ma'am," Teagan answered. "If he ever stops by here, I'll make sure to introduce you to him some time." Everyone nodded in response. "Well, it looks like we're wrapped up here. We actually went over time today, but I hope everyone enjoyed it!"
"Oh we did," Estelle said. "It's good to have you back, dear."
"It's good to be back," she answered with a smile as she gathered up her supplies before heading out the door.
Blake and Reid were upstairs scouring through Lyle's bedroom, looking for something that might be able to give them a clue to what type of person he was, if there was any evidence that could connect him to the murders that had been committed. Reid stood, rummaging through Lyle's desk when suddenly his temples throbbed, causing him to wince slightly. He blinked and continued to explore the desk and its contents.
"Lyle would have kept his secrets close to him," Reid stated, turning towards Blake. "Easy for him to have access to." Blake stood, examining a black leather jacket. She paused for a moment and turned away from the item of clothing.
"Probably while he was in bed," she stated, heading over to move Lyle's bed. Reid rushed over to help her.
"Look at this," he said, knocking on the panels behind the bed. When he stooped over, his head gave another painful throb. I probably should have taken Teagan's offer on coffee this morning. He fished in his pocket for his knife and began trying to pry open the paneling. After he opened it, he felt down in the insulation and discovered a lockbox that wasn't locked. He placed it on the bed and began searching through it, when he discovered a weapon.
"We should get this to forensics," he stated, holding it up to show Blake. She murmured in agreement. He began searching through the photos in the box, his brow furrowing.
"Look at this. Mary Ann Beck. He lied," he stated, looking up at Blake. Blake was holding a prescription bottle in her gloved hands.
"It was filled in 1991," she said.
"Let me see?" Reid asked. Blake handed him the bottle and he shook the pills out into his palm. "It's testosterone. My uncle used to take this. Lyle could have been taking this to bulk up. If Lyle was taking this ten years ago, it could have pushed him over the edge and caused him to beat Mary Ann to death." He looked up at Blake again, who stared back at him in slight shock. His head pounded again, and he closed his eyes for a moment, willing the pain to go away.
"You okay?" Blake asked.
"Yeah, I'm going to step outside for a minute. I need some fresh air."
"Okay." He walked down the stairs and outside into the crisp, cool air, hoping that it would soothe his aching head.
"Dr. Reid?" The medical examiner called.
"What's up?" he asked.
"We got another one," she stated. "This one looks like a male." How many people did they kill? She led him over to the newly discovered remains. He knelt down, furrowing his brow as he stared at the rib cage. He reached into his pocket for his phone and dialed Hotch.
"Hey Hotch? Yeah, they just found another body…" He stood up and walked back towards the house to inform Blake of the news. This is going to be a long day.
Teagan stood at the stove, browning hamburger for the tacos while Lily was at the counter, chopping cilantro for the salsa. The doorbell rang and Lily rushed to answer it. McDuffie flew out of Teagan's bedroom, barking. Teagan placed the spoon in the spoon rest before poking her head out of the kitchen to greet Jared.
"Hey Jared!" she called with a wave. "How're you?"
"Pretty good, Teags. Yourself?" he asked, holding a grocery bag and wrapping an arm around Lily.
"I'm doing okay," she replied. "You bring avocados?"
"Of course! Can't have my world-famous guacamole without 'em!"
"Babe, your guacamole is not world-famous," Lily stated, rolling her eyes.
"It's famous among my friends," he answered.
"Because it's the only thing you know how to make."
"But you like it."
"Eh," she shrugged. "I'm teasing, hon. Don't worry." She placed her hands on either side of his face, cradling it before standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Teagan blushed as her thoughts drifted back to earlier this morning.
"Lily and Jared sitting in a tree," Teagan said in a sing-song voice.
"Shut up. You and Spencer were in here this morning. And don't you have things to do, like make sure the hamburger doesn't burn?"
"Oh, shoot!" she exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen to tend to the forgotten hamburger. Jared stepped inside the kitchen, placing the grocery bag with avocados, chiles, lime juice, and onions on the counter.
"Where's your um, police officer boyfriend?" he asked, grabbing a knife from the knife stand.
"He's working. And he's not a police officer. He's a FBI agent."
"Well, excuse me," he teased. "Is he nice to you?"
"Yes," she giggled. "He is very nice to me."
"Good. I'd hate to have to punch him." Teagan giggled again.
"Jared, shut your mouth and make the damn guacamole!" Lily shouted. "You like to act all tough when everyone knows you're not." He grinned lazily before flicking a piece of avocado at her.
"Stop!" she shouted, tossing a cube of tomato at him. Pretty soon the two of them were tossing food back and forth.
"Hey!" Teagan exclaimed as a piece of onion was lobbed her way. "We're supposed to be cooking, not having a foot fight." Lily stuck her tongue out at her. Teagan giggled again. "You have avocado in your hair! And Jared, there's a tomato seed under your eye." She turned around to cut off the burner and give the hamburger a final stir while Lily and Jared picked the pieces of food from their faces and hair. Teagan shook her head at the couple.
"Is the hamburger done already?" Lily asked.
"Yep. So Jared, get to steppin' on that guacamole," Teagan teased.
"Yes ma'am!" he replied, giving her a mock salute with the knife in his hand.
"You be careful with that knife before you take someone's eye out," Lily ordered. He grinned lazily again before flicking another piece of avocado at her. Lily rolled her eyes before chopping the lettuce.
Fifteen minutes later, Teagan sat down across from Lily and Jared, who were chatting and munching away happily at their meal. Teagan took a small bite of her taco and sighed. I miss you, Spencer. Hope that case wraps up soon…
Reid bent down and slid the finished case file under Hotch's door. Straightening up, he rubbed his throbbing temples. No, no damn it. I thought these had stopped.
"'Night, Spence," J.J. called, stepping out of her office, her jacket over her arm.
"Good night, J.J.," he replied, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.
"You okay? You're look like you don't feel well," she stated, frowning slightly.
"Yeah. I'm just a little tired is all. Late night last night."
"Oh, okay," she replied, nodding. "Well, go home and get some rest. Hotch says we get the next week off for Thanksgiving, unless a case comes up or something. You got any plans?" His head pounded again, causing him to wince slightly.
"Uh, I'm supposed to go to Georgia with Teagan and have Thanksgiving with her family. What about you?"
"That sounds like fun!" she stated. "The usual. Have Thanksgiving with my parents and then head down to New Orleans to have dinner with Will's aunts and uncles. It's been too long since Henry's seen his cousins."
"Hope you have a safe trip."
"You too. Go home and get some sleep." He nodded and said goodbye to J.J. before stepping over to his desk to collect his things. His head was now pounding like a timpani. He let out a tiny whimper of pain, willing it to go away. His stomach gave an unsettling lurch and he rushed off towards the bathroom. Blake looked up from her desk, noticing Reid leaving in a rush. What in the world?
Reid ran into the bathroom, squinting against the suddenly too harsh fluorescent lights. As he opened a stall, his stomach lurched again, this time more violently. After the nausea passed, he flushed the toilet and rested his cheek against the cool metal of stall wall. Suddenly a knock sounded on the bathroom door.
"Reid?" Blake's muffled voice called. "You okay?"He scrambled to his feet and opened the stall, poking his head around the corner as another knock sounded on the door. "Reid?"
"Yeah, Blake?" he called weakly. He cleared his throat.
"You okay? You left the bullpen in a rush."
"Yeah, lunch just didn't agree with me," he lied, squinting against the light. "I thought it tasted funny."
"Oh," she answered in an unconvinced tone. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine, Blake. Thanks."
"Okay." He heard her footsteps head back towards the bullpen. He exited the stall and stood over the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror above it. His skin was sallow and clammy, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, and the circles under his eyes were more prominent and bruise-like in color than usual. He splashed some water on his face before leaving the bathroom and returning to the bullpen. Blake was still at her desk, hunched over her case file. Everyone else on the team, minus Rossi, had gone home to enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday. However, he knew that Hotch would probably be back early in the morning to finish some of the paperwork. Reid grabbed his jacket and messenger bag from underneath his desk. He squinted against the bright lights of the bullpen. Would it look too suspicious if I put my sunglasses on in the building? His head pounded again, causing the edges of his vision to go gray. The bullpen began to swim before his eyes and he gripped the edge of his desk.
"Reid?" Blake called, jumping from her chair and rushing to him. "Hey, sit down." She guided him to his chair and he sank into it. She placed the back of her hand against his forehead, checking for a temperature. He squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding pain, another tiny whimper escaping his lips.
"Reid, we need to get you to a hospital," Blake stated.
"No…no hospital," he murmured weakly. "Home."
"Reid, you can't go home like this. You're sick." He winced again before answering.
"I'll…be fine."
"Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?" She stared at him, his eyes squeezed shut, his long fingers massaging his temples and the back of his head. He nodded, the movement making his head spin.
"I don't like the idea of you going home by yourself. Let me take you." He opened his eyes then, starting to protest before squeezing him shut again.
"No."
"Where are your keys?" she asked, reaching for his messenger bag. "I'm taking you home. You can't drive like this." He opened his mouth again to protest, before realizing that she was right. He opened his eyes, squinting, and reached for his bag, fishing for his keys. He tossed them to her.
"Do you feel well enough to stand?"
"Y-Yeah," he answered, rising shakily to his feet. He reached for his messenger bag and jacket, discovering that she was holding both.
"Here's your jacket. I'll carry your messenger bag."
"I've got it."
"No way," she answered, stepping away from him. He groaned inwardly, hating the current feeling of helplessness. For God's sake, I'm not an invalid! He followed her to the elevator. Once inside, she handed him his sunglasses.
"Thanks," he replied, slipping them on.
"No problem. Does that help?"
"Yeah." He led her outside the building and towards his car, wincing slightly as his head throbbed. The sunglasses were helping. It was pitch black outside, except for the soft glow of the streetlamps, which was muted by his sunglasses. Blake slid into the driver's seat and cranked the Volvo as Reid slid into the passenger seat, resting his cheek against the cold glass of the window.
"I thought the headaches had stopped," she stated, looking over at him.
"They had, but they reappeared after…" he trailed off, licking his lips and staring down at his lap. "After Maeve died. And the music therapy sessions were helping, but it's been two months since I've been to one. Maybe I should start back. But at a different hospital. Teagan believes they're stress related. But the cases haven't been any more stressful than usual."
"Reid, I think you're more stressed than you realize," Blake stated. "Teagan's been going through a rough time lately, hasn't she? And you've been worrying about her and helping her when she needs it."
"Well, what am I supposed to do? Leave her?" Reid asked, a slight tone of bitterness in his voice.
"No, I'm not saying that. But you have to look after yourself too," she stated. The tone in her voice implied that she spoke from experience and Reid made a mental note to ask her about it later. He nodded again before resting his cheek against the cool glass once more.
"Are you sure you're okay, Reid?" Blake asked, pausing at the doorframe.
"I'll be fine, Alex," he answered, giving her a small smile. "I'm already starting to feel better. Thanks."
"Any time. Have a nice Thanksgiving."
"You too. What are your plans?"
"I'm going up to Boston to see James. You?"
"Teagan's invited me to spend Thanksgiving with her family in Georgia."
"Wow! So you're going to meet her entire family? Are you nervous?"
"Terrified," he answered honestly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Her dad already hates me."
"I'm sure he doesn't hate you," she said, smiling reassuringly.
"No, he's made his thoughts about me pretty well-known. It doesn't bother me, but I know it hurts Teagan."
"He'll come around eventually."
"I hope so." She gave him a quick hug before leaving his apartment.
"Take care of yourself," she said, waving goodbye. He nodded and followed her down the stairs and watched her leave. When he entered his apartment, his phone buzzed suddenly and he walked over to retrieve it from his messenger bag.
Teagan: Did the case wrap up? He smiled before dialing her number.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sweetheart."
"Did I text at a bad time? You're not busy are you? It's late and I couldn't sleep and I didn't know if you were still working or not."
"No, it's fine. I, um, just got home actually." He stepped into his bedroom and began rummaging through a drawer, searching for his pajamas.
"So the case wrapped up all right?"
"Yeah, I guess you could say that," he replied, rubbing his eyes as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I saw on the news where this family had a bunch of dead bodies in the backyard and that the BAU was investigating. I assumed it was your team."
"It was us." He silently hoped she didn't ask for details. He wasn't allowed to discuss cases openly with anyone outside the BAU.
"Gross. I would hate to have your job." His head throbbed painfully again, going from its dull ache back into full-fledged migraine. He groaned softly. "Spence? You okay?"
"Yeah, Blake had to take me home. I, um, think I got food poisoning from lunch today," he lied, looking up at the ceiling.
"Oh no! Do you need anything?"
"No, I'll be fine. I'm not feeling well, so I think I'm going to go to bed."
"Okay. Feel better soon, Magic Man. Love you." He smiled at hearing her say those three words, instantly regretting lying to her.
"Love you, too, Sweetheart. Good night."
"Good night." He placed his phone on the bedside table and began to put on his pajamas. After taking three ibuprofen and brushing his teeth, he climbed into bed, pulling the comforter over. I really shouldn't have done that. But she's got enough to worry about as it is. He winced as he felt another painful throb and he buried his face in his pillow, hoping the cool fabric would give his aching head some comfort. After a few minutes, he slowly drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Please review.