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#8

Grief releases love and it also instills a profound sense of connection.

~Jacqueline Novogratz

Reid sat down in Hotch's office with trepidation. He knew what was coming but that didn't make it any less nerve-wracking or painful.

Hotch took a seat behind his desk.

"I spoke with Cruz and his opinion is in line with mine. You acted with reckless disregard for the safety of the team along with local law enforcement. Do you remember what I said would happen the last time you did something similar to this?"

Reid nodded. "I would be terminated from the BAU."

"You left me with no choice Spencer," Hotch said. "I know thought you had the situation under control but it went against every procedure in the book. It could have ended with you dead along with many others"

"In my defense the outcome was positive. I save a boy's life," Reid said calmly. "Sometimes the rules don't meet the situation."

"Cruz and I think differently. I'm sorry Reid but I need you to clean out your desk and leave with security."

"Is the security necessary?" he asked.

"It is part of the rules," Hotch said.

Reid left and looked into the bullpen. J.J. wasn't there. Probably Hotch's idea. He quickly pulled out a box and began to fill it with his things, paying little attention to the arrangement. The last thing he pulled out was the news clipping of him and Lila. He angrily ripped it apart and threw it in the trash.

After glancing back one last time at the BAU, he met security at the entrance.

…

Reid turned off his phone the minute he left Quantico. He entered his apartment in the middle of the afternoon and wondered what to do with himself. He knew Morgan, J.J. and Garcia would soon be knocking on his door. Books didn't appeal to him. Drugs were starting appear appealing. In the end he just didn't want to be anywhere.

There are one hundred eighteen mile metro rail in the D.C. Reid kept riding the lines with no destination in mind. He watched people and counted things. The rhythm was soothing at times but he would not sleep. He would not let himself cry.

He kept blindly crossing lines that he did not know where exactly he was when it came to the last stop. He briefly wondered how he would get home but then realized he didn't care.

A dark-skinned woman with intricately woven hair entered the empty car. She took a seat opposite him.

"Hi there," she said brightly. "I'm Janelle."

She offered her hand Reid weakly shook it. "I'm Spencer."

Reid turned away to signal he wasn't interested in conversation.

"You look a little lost, did you miss your stop?" she asked while still sounding cheerful.

"I'm not lost," Reid said dully.

"Maybe not lost physically, but you look like you're missing something."

"I'd rather not talk about it," Reid said.

"I get that," she said. "But sometimes it feels good to talk out your pain."

"Why do you care?" he asked irritably.

"Because you look like that sadness is eating you alive," Janelle said.

"I'm fine!" he said angrily.

Janelle turned away. "Okay, I'll give you your space then."

After a few minutes Reid looked up at the ceiling. "I was fired from my job today."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Janelle said calmly.

"I saved a life but I could have gotten everyone else killed."

"What did you do if you don't mind my asking?"

"I was a profiler for the BAU," he said.

"Sounds like an intense job."

"It is but I loved it."

"There is more to life than work you know."

"But it was everything to me," he said as tears streamed down his face. "Most of my friends work there. Being there made me feel whole."

"You will feel whole again," Janelle said soothingly. "Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow but eventually."

"My mom can barely recognize me in the psychiatric facility she lives in," he said suddenly as he faced the ground. "My best friend at work left to be with his family. The girl of my dreams was killed in front of me. I have a drug addiction. How do I make my life whole without my job?"

He was outright sobbing now and Janelle offered him tissues which he gratefully grabbed.

"I know you're hurting and you have every right to be," she said gently. "Pain is part of life. It is something we need to feel and express. Don't fear or repress the pain. Just remember there is light at the end of the tunnel."

"What light?" he asked bitterly.

"I'm sure you have friends who can help you find it. They must be worried about you too."

"I don't know."

"Do you believe in God, Spencer?" she asked

"I believe in a higher power but that is all."

"Would you like to believe in something more? Maybe to fill your life a little more?"

For the first time he looked straight at Janelle. "What are you, a grief counselor?"

She smiled. "I'm a trained counselor for my church but I work as a lobbyist for campaign finance reform."

Reid didn't say anything.

"Why don't you drop by my church this Sunday? There'll be plenty of great food to fill up that skinny frame of yours and music that might just help you feel whole again."

He felt moved by the woman's compassion.

"Where is it?"

She pulled out a card and gave it to him. "Don't feel obligated to come. I just thought you might like it."

"I'll be there."

The car stopped. They walked up together. She offered him her cell phone. "Do you want to call someone to pick you up?"

"How did you know I wouldn't have a phone with me?"

"Lucky guess."

He called Garcia and she picked up instantly. "Where have you been? We've all been worried sick about you!"

"I'm okay Garcia," he said calmly. "I think I made a friend tonight and am feeling a little better."

…

At the same time Kahina Johnson was dreaming of holding her baby. She laughed when she made faces at her. She bounced her on her hip and then suddenly felt her child fall from grip. She looked down and was nothing but baby clothes on the ground. Kahina woke breathing heavily.

She entered the nursery. She threw stuffed animals around and pulled clothes out of drawers. She fell down in the pile and slept fitfully.

All she ever wanted was a child to love, man or no man. It seemed she couldn't have either to fill the hole in her heart.

…

Kahina barely paid attention to church. She was just going through the motions. She tried and begged for God to make the pain go away but it felt like he wasn't listening. On the periphery she noticed a skinny white man who looked miserable as she felt. She wondered what was bothering him and how he ended up here.

She was tempted to skip the meal but her cousin grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in. "There is someone I'd like you to meet," Janelle said and beckoned the skinny man forward.

"Spencer, this is Kahina, Kahina, this is Spencer," she said.

His eyes lit up. "That is a lovely name Kahina. The name of a Berber warrior queen from the seventh century."

For the first time in what felt like ages her smile felt sincere. "Thank you. You know your history."

Janelle took a step aside. "I'll let you two talk," she said and rushed away.

Kahina sighed. She was being set up again.

"So brings you to our church Spencer?" she asked politely.

"It is a long story but Janelle thought my coming here would help me through things."

"Janelle thinks church can be cure for everything."

"She didn't push it on me. She just asked me to open my mind a little."

"Did it help?" she asked.

Spencer looked around. "I feel better after going to your church. I can't exactly explain how or why but I do."

"My adoption of a child didn't go through," Kahina said suddenly. "The family changed their mind."

"I'm so sorry," Spencer said.

"That is what everyone says," she said.

"My problems feel so small in comparison. I was fired from my job and I was randomly riding metro lines when Janelle found me."

"What did you do?"

"I was a profiler for the FBI"

"Now it's my turn to say I'm sorry," Kahina said.

"It is not the end of the world," Spencer said.

"But it must feel like it," she said.

Spencer looked at her intensely. "It does, until just this moment."

Deep in heart she felt a faint flutter. "Really?"

"Really."

…

Four weeks later Reid ran into Janelle on the same line at an earlier hour. He was dressed sharply.

"Lost again Spencer?" she said teasingly.

Reid smiled. "I'm meeting Johnsons."

Janelle laughed. "You are in for it mister."

"Wish me luck?"

"You'll need more than just luck to meet Noah's expectations."

"You think he'll approve of my job? It is not the FBI but working a non-profit—"

"Dedicated to finding ways for sustainable living in developing countries still sounds extremely impressive. Don't worry about the job. Just be yourself."

"Thanks for everything Janelle," he said.

"You're welcome Spencer."