Nota Bene: My dear beloved readers! I am sorry I've been gone so long, college auditions, deadlines, exams, and a global pandemic have been completely swallowing my life. I hope everyone is staying safe and practicing proper social distancing measures. A little note for those of you who are committed to this story, I did some rewriting, nothing major. I changed Misha's name to Nicolai (because I know someone irl named Misha and didn't when I first wrote his character so it felt a little weird...) and I just generally tried to improve the writing style, coherency, and consistency. Plus I wanted to clean up some plot lines so they're a little better crafted. Let me know what you guys think of the rewrite if you want to go back and reread the previous chapters... but if you don't, nothing major is changed so you can certainly keep reading from here! Love you guys, thank you so much for the 30k+ reads, it makes me unbelievably happy to see people like my writing this much. Stay safe! 3

Chapter Thirty-Four: Alone at Last

Reid opened his eyes to a full view of the off-white ceiling above him. For about the length of time that it took for him to draw his first awakened breath, he had yet to recall all that had happened within the past few months. The only thoughts flitting across his brain were how much he wanted a cup of coffee, and that he was in the mood for some David Hume.

And then it hit him.

"Right," he said aloud, to no one in particular. The apartment was as empty as it always was. He realized he was lying crumpled up on his couch, without having showered or changed his clothes.

It felt like moving the gears of a rusty animatronic, getting up and stumbling to the bathroom. His shirt seemed stuck to him with uncomfortable half-dried sweat and dust. He pushed the door shut and with great effort turned on the faucet and peeled off the dirty clothes. Sinking into the tub of warm water was practically a spiritual experience, even though Reid didn't believe in God. Although he was still stiff and lacking in energy, little by little his gears were being oiled up.

Half an hour later, a freshly groomed Agent Spencer Reid was sitting at his kitchen table, trying to force down some scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee. He had wanted coffee when he woke up, but the remembrance of reality forced away any appetite and replaced it with a deep, hollow, and rotten feeling in the bottom of his gut. His wet, scraggly hair was combed back, but stray pieces kept falling into his face. He would push them back and try to hold the mug with his shaky hands over and over again. Every movement felt like a marathon.

Reid didn't know how long he had been sitting there, spending more time tucking the hair behind his ears and crossing and uncrossing his legs than actually eating. All he knew was his coffee was no longer steaming and his eggs were cold when there was a knock at his door.

To someone viewing the scene from the outside, it might've seemed as if the young man practically huddled at his own kitchen table was deaf, or at least mostly so, for he had no visible reaction to the sound. 30 seconds to a minute passed before the knock was repeated. This time, he turned slowly and ever so slightly toward the direction of the door, squinting his eyes as if he was an alien who came from a world where knocking on doors was just not something people did.

The third knock, more insistent and almost anxious sounding, seemed to convince him that even if it was against his alien custom, the noise surely meant he should get up and see who it was. And so he did. Feeling rather like an old man hobbling across the room and vaguely wishing he had a cane to assist him, he made it to the door and pulled at the latch.

"Reid! Oh my God!"

Before he could process the face in front of him, the wind was nearly knocked out of him as J.J. threw herself against him in a rather violent hug.

"Hey," he said weakly, "how're you doing?"

"How am I doing?" She repeated his query rather incredulously, "how are you doing? I know what happened, or at least what the official report on what happened is. Are you okay? You look sick! You should sit down. Have you eaten today?" She had come into the apartment, not giving him a moment to answer any of the questions she was asking. She paused only for a moment to look at the table. "Am I interrupting your breakfast? Oh, I'm sorry, come on sit down and eat, you need it. I'm sure you're exhausted."

Reid smiled weakly. In a more emotionally adjusted state, he would've found J.J.'s enthusiasm endearing, but he was almost ashamed to admit to himself that at the moment he only found it annoying. She barely seemed to notice this attitude, and practically dragged him to the table. He felt awkward as she intently stared at him as he choked down the cold eggs and drank the lukewarm coffee.

When he was finished she leaned forward across the table and stared at him expectantly.

"Well?" She ventured.

"It's all exactly as it was in the report," he felt slightly more invigorated after eating and got up to clear his place. J.J. was silent as he rinsed the dishes with his back to her.

"Is that it?"

"That's it."

He turned around again, her face was frustrated and she refused to make eye contact with him. Reid felt as if he was looking at a toddler who had been told they couldn't go to Disneyland. Why did she care so much anyway? None of this had anything to do with her. Couldn't she at least give him some space instead of running over the morning after and interrogating him?

Reid said nothing, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Alright," J.J. said finally, "I suppose you want to get some rest after all that then," she rose to leave, "I'm always around if you need."

Reid nodded, feeling a little annoyed at himself for his coldness, but at the same time wondering why she thought he was being cold. He was being factual. He hadn't lied in his report. What did she expect him to say? He wanted nothing more than for her to leave, and it was nothing personal.

J.J. sent one final pleading look his way before exiting the apartment. Reid breathed a heavy sigh of relief once she was gone. He hastened to the door and turned the lock, feeling a sense of peace wash over him now that he was alone. All he really wanted was to be alone. At least for now.