Commencement

Chapter 20

It was Hotch who broke the silence between them.

"A lot's happened since I left."

Including the fact of his leaving, and why, and what consequence it had brought to all of the team.

Reid felt the blessedly familiar stare even before he dared to look up.

"Yes."

"Are you all right?" Not really asking about his injury.

Despite the length of their time apart, their cadence of exchange came back to Hotch, and he knew to wait Reid out. Which he did, for three full minutes, while the younger man studied his hands.

"It's been….I've been…I…" Unable to meet his mentor's intense gaze, and unable to articulate all that had happened, Reid was relegated to shaking his head, and offering a weak summary. "I've made a mess of it. I've made a mess of my life."

In the space of those words, Hotch began to rue a decision he'd made several years before, once the threat of Peter Lewis had been lifted, and the ban on exchanging messages along with it. He'd decided, then, to keep his contacts with his former team to a minimum. He'd left under duress, but found a new freedom in a life away from serial killers and the miasma of evil that surrounded them. He'd found a certain joy in the ability to be fully present to his son, and he'd rediscovered the many pleasures he'd sacrificed from his life while with the BAU. Even though it had been offered to him, he'd declined the opportunity to return to the work that had cost him so much in his life.

He'd declined, and kept himself separate, respectful of Emily Prentiss and the fact that she had just stepped into a situation that would have intimidated most people. But, unlike most people, Aaron Hotchner had a great respect for Emily, and a true affection, and he knew instinctively that he could best support her by staying away. He would let her build her team in the way that best suited her talents, and those of the members currently comprising it.

But now, he wondered if he hadn't failed to factor in some critical things. Maybe he'd underestimated his role in their lives. Maybe he'd been too bent on convincing himself about their strengths, and how well they could do without him, and not focused enough on how much they needed him….needed all of them, really, as a team….for that strength.

He'd known the effects of loss, of course. But he'd known them as Aaron Hotchner, and not as Spencer Reid. Maybe he'd not given enough consideration to that. Maybe he owed the younger man an apology. Or maybe he owed him something more substantial.

Someone else might have reacted to Reid's words by attempting to console him, to assure him that he'd not ruined his life, that any troubles he'd had could not possibly be his fault. But this was Hotch, and he knew better. Reid might not project his ego the way some did, but that didn't mean he didn't own one. He was confident in his intellect and, sadly, he'd been cultivated to see it as his primary contribution to society. Reid wouldn't simply accept another's evaluation of his life, and his choices. He wouldn't simply accept a consolation so reflexively given. No, Reid would have to get there on his own.

But that didn't mean he couldn't be pointed in the right direction. With that thought, Hotch set about making reparation for having left, and not realizing the loss. He pulled a chair up next to the hospital bed, and leaned forward, elbows resting on thighs, intense gaze focused on the occupant of the bed.

"What does that mean, that you've made a mess of your life?"

It sounded like a challenge, and Reid almost felt like he had to defend his characterization. He found himself falling back to his old friend, sarcasm, the bastion of the intelligent mind.

"You mean, besides getting thrown into prison?"

At his own insistence, Hotch had been provided with every known detail about what had happened to Reid. But David Rossi hadn't quite known everything.

"That wasn't your fault."

Reid was quick to parry, evident of the persistence of his feelings of guilt.

"It wasn't the fault of anyone else."

Near-black eyes met hazel.

"Yes, it was. It was the fault of Cat Adams."

Reid shook his head. "She was the catalyst. But my stupidity got me into it in the first place."

"I don't understand." Rossi had been adamant about the female serial killer's role in the scheme.

"You don't understand, because the truth isn't in the facts. Not the whole truth."

Hotch looked his lack of understanding toward his genius friend, as he had many times in the past, and Reid responded.

"I was stupid enough to think I could change the inevitable, and I was even more stupid to try to do it alone." He gave himself a derisive chuckle. "Maybe part of me realized how stupid it was, and my ego wouldn't let me show it."

Hotch's renowned brow furrowed. "Are you talking about trying to help your mother? About going to Mexico?"

Reid had trouble making eye contact. "You must have thought I was an idiot."

"To be honest, I was a little preoccupied at the time. Knowing the team thought it was Scratch, I was concerned that I hadn't hidden Jack well enough."

"Oh, of course! Sorry, I guess I was pretty self-absorbed about it. How is Jack? How are you?"

Hotch was too savvy to be put off by the deflection, but that didn't mean he couldn't respond.

"Jack is great," his dad grinned. "We had an adjustment period, of course. Several of them, considering the ongoing threat. But he's made new friends, and he's doing well in school. He's traded in soccer for track. He finally grew into his legs, and he's running the hurdles."

"Does he see Haley's family?"

"Jessica? Yes, and that's helped him a lot. It's helped both of them, really. Haley's father died last year, and while I think Jess feels the relief of the burden, she also misses him." Pause. "Oh, and I think Jack has a girlfriend."

"Think?"

"He's not sharing. But he's been on his phone almost non-stop, and the last time she visited, he complimented Jessica on her earrings."

Reid made a face. "Maybe he was just being polite."

Hotch returned the look. "I'm a profiler, Reid, even if it's not what I do any more. He was pumping her for information on what she liked when she was a kid."

"Ah. Tough being a teenager with a profiler dad."

"Tougher being the dad of a teenager, period. But he's a good kid, and I'm very lucky with that."

"No luck involved, Hotch. And Haley would be proud, I'm sure."

His older friend gave a small smile of appreciation, and then steered them gently back toward their original topic.

"So, how is your mother?"

Reid colored a bit, aware of the turn.

"She's in and out. You probably saw it with Haley's dad. Some days she remembers me, some days she doesn't. I should have been ready for it, because she's never been all that predictable. But it's different from before."

"How?" Said softly, and without challenge, to draw him out.

Reid studied his fingernails. "When I was a kid, she would get lost into her delusions, or her paranoia. At first, I would be terrified. Well, if I'm honest, I was always terrified. But she always came back, and I learned to trust that she would. That, if I could just get us through the episode, I'd have her back, at least for a while. But now…."

Hotch understood, because he'd lived it, virtually, through Jessica.

"Now you wonder if each lapse will be the permanent one."

Reid looked up at him, heartened at being understood.

"Exactly! I mean, I know she's deteriorating. And I know there will come a time when it's permanent. I guess I just wanted to push it off as long as I could. I….it felt like she'd suffered enough. How could I let her go through this without trying?" Pausing, reflecting in the space of time his friend was giving him. "But maybe I was just being selfish. Maybe it was me who couldn't go through it without trying."

Hotch gave his former colleague an all too familiar look. "It's all right to need things, Spencer."

The use of his first name alerted Reid to the coming intimacy of the conversation. Had it been anyone but Hotch, he might have panicked. But the man sitting at his bedside had served as a stanchion for him far too often not to have earned his trust.

"But I shouldn't have put her through something just for me! I mean, these drugs were still considered experimental. They hadn't even been used in the United States. But I read the articles, and I thought…"

Hotch spoke over him. "You didn't just 'think', Reid."

"What?"

The dark gaze lasered him. "You didn't make a scientifically sound decision, because you weren't functioning as a scientist. You made the decision as a son. Which is what you were…and still are."

"But I caused so much pain…."

Not just to himself. He'd caused his mother the pain of separation, and the terror of being kidnapped. He'd cost his friends the pain of feeling helpless, and the difficulties of working a man down. He'd caused his best friend the burden of caring for his mother, and the witnessing of him at his lowest.

He was brought out of the familiar reverie of self-recrimination by the stern tone of Hotch's assertion.

"It wasn't your going to Mexico that caused any of this, my friend. It was the fact that Cat Adams took advantage of it, to hurt you and everyone else."

"But if I hadn't gone…"

"She was looking for an opportunity, Reid. If she hadn't found that one, she would have found another. There isn't a single one of us who isn't alone at one time or another. You can't be responsible for what she chose to do."

Reid had heard that before, of course. He'd heard it from Emily, and from Rossi. He'd even heard it from Morgan. And it had been a virtually endless loop from JJ. But every time he'd tried to say it to himself, he'd been stymied. Because, if Cat Adams was responsible for what she had chosen to do, then Spencer Reid had to also be responsible for what he had chosen to do. In the safe harbor of this conversation, he confessed as much to the man who had once been his mentor.

"I still have to own the things I did, don't I? She doesn't bear the responsibility for everything that happened to me in prison. And she doesn't bear the responsibility for the choices I made."

Hotch heaved a sigh of relief that doubled as a prayer for guidance. They'd arrived at the place he'd known they would need to get to. He'd heard about it from Rossi, of course, the presumption of what Reid had done to save himself while in prison. But Rossi had been able to share only that, the presumption. Hotch's old friend had advised him that it seemed there was something more. Something known only to the two youngest members of their team, and both of the elder profilers had wondered if their younger colleagues possessed the wisdom to deal with it.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Their relationship had evolved tremendously through the span of their acquaintance. Once upon a time, Hotch had felt saddled by his superior's latest collected thing, an oddity who seemed more a hindrance to his team than a help. But, even before Gideon had left them, Hotch had found reasons to respect the younger man, and sought out ways to nurture his development. Reid had been aware of both phases, and he'd grown with Hotch into the next one, as well. That was the time when Reid had been both physically and emotionally tortured by a serial killer, and saved by the unique connection he'd shared with the man at his bedside.

That was just the first time he saw me at my lowest. Who knew I could get so much lower?

But he had, in his own mind, if not in that of his mentor. He'd lapsed, and relapsed, and nearly alienated the entire law enforcement community on one case. Hotch had chastised him, but in a way that had been completely foreign to the young man who had virtually raised himself. Hotch had chastised him with love, and understanding and support. Which was, in no small part, why it had been Hotch he'd reached out to when it had been time to confess his strange relationship with Maeve, and beg for help in finding her.

It was also why he could even consider telling the truth right now. Consider. But he still felt so torn. He didn't want someone he admired so much to see who he really was, even if it was the reality. And then he remembered.

JJ knows. She doesn't just know, she actually saw me. She saw what I nearly did to Cat Adams. And, unbelievably, she still manages to love me.

Maybe that was the nature of the beast, he thought. Maybe love didn't apply filters, or set criteria. Maybe it just was. Maybe it just offered acceptance, and encouragement, and lifting up.

Having received all three things from the man at his bedside, Reid realized that his relationship with Hotch hadn't simply been built on respect, or need, or admiration. It had also been built on love, and he could have only the one reponse.

"I…I'm, uh…..I'm kind of ashamed of it, Hotch. It wasn't something I would have done if I'd seen any other way."

"Understood."

Reid nodded, accepting the first ounce of forgiveness.

"They'd already killed one of my friends. Not a friend, exactly, but someone I'd made a connection with. And they'd killed him, as a message to me. So I retaliated."

The heavy brow furrowed. "Retaliated? Or were you protecting yourself?"

Reid spoke in earnest. "That's the thing! I was kind of protecting myself. But I….I think I was also seeking vengeance."

"Wasn't that just 'secondary intent'?"

Reid's brows shot up. "Are you quoting Aquinas to me?"

Hotch shrugged, and gave him a small smile. "I had a lot of time to read, before it was safe to apply for a position." Then, sobering, he added, "And I think it applies."

Reid was ready to parry him, unwittingly thrown into the philosophical argument.

"But it matters. That's Aquinas' whole point. Intention matters."

"And your intention was to assure your safety, while imprisoned for a crime you did NOT commit."

He had a point. In truth, he had 'the' point. But Reid was too accustomed to self-recrimination to let it go.

"But.."

"But you succeeded, and no one was seriously injured."

"They had to go to the infirmary."

"From which each of them were released, in under twenty-four hours." Hotch had been well-briefed by Rossi.

The two sat in reflective silence for several minutes, until Reid took another stab at himself, this time without preface.

"I tried to kill Cat Adams."

Their profiling skills kicked in at that, Reid noting the change in microexpression that told him he'd caught Hotch off guard, and Hotch realizing it. It was obvious Rossi hadn't filled him in on everything. The former profiler regained his equilibrium quickly.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that. I thought she'd killed my mother….or that she'd gotten Lyndsey Vaughn to kill her…and I was so angry, I tried to strangle her. Ask JJ, she was there."

"But…"

"But she stopped me. She thought…" His voice catching, with the memory. "She knew I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

In retrospect, Hotch wasn't at all surprised that they'd kept it between them. He'd been well aware of their bond, and even a bit jealous of it.

"So, she stopped you…." Encouraging him to finish the story.

"She stopped me, and she helped me figure it out. It was JJ who helped me realize what Cat wanted me to admit."

"Which was?"

"That I was no different from her. That I could become as depraved as she had."

"Did you? Did you 'admit' it?"

Do you believe it?

"I told her what she wanted to hear."

It wasn't enough for Hotch, so he put the unstated into words. "Did you believe what you told her?"

Reid shook his head. "I'm not the same as Cat Adams. I have regret."

Hotch smiled in relief. You're getting there.

"Yes, you do. But it's not the only difference between you and Cat."

Reid cocked his head. "What else?"

"I believe that's my line. It's for you to say, Reid. What else makes you different from a Cat Adams?"

Objectifying the serial killer.

It wasn't a unique question for the BAU genius. He'd asked it of himself a thousand times, hoping for an answer. He gave Hotch the only one he'd come up with, that seemed to hold water.

"I'll never do it again. I don't just regret it. I've vowed to never allow it to happen again."

They were at the critical point, and Hotch knew it.

"How do you know you can keep that vow?"

Reid was ready. If nothing else, the past few days had solidified it for him.

"Cat doesn't know what love is. None of them do, really. It's the great tragedy of their lives. They're looking for something they can't even recognize. But I can. Thank God, I can. I know love. And that's the difference."