The three agents step off the elevator and enter the BAU with practiced ease. It's gone 3pm on a Sunday so of course it's fairly empty. They know Strauss is in, having already called Hotch twice on the way over demanding to know where her report is, making it very clear if she was giving up her weekend they weren't having the day off either. As they pass through the bullpen Reid heads for his desk, but Morgan's hands on his shoulders guide him away and up the stairs, following closely behind Hotch. He opens his mouth to ask, but ever since his lie to the nurse - and by proxy Morgan - about the plaster on his arm he hasn't been able to say much of anything.
"You can write up your report in here while I meet with Strauss." Hotch tells him with formality, switching on the lights and opening the blinds revealing the dark thunder clouds forming in the distance.
Taking solice in the fact the bright sunny day has turned to reflect his mood Reid nods, gingerly seating himself on the small couch in the corner of Hotch's office. Looking around with what feels like new eyes he notices something, a few somethings actually. Though the space isn't small it's definitely homely, the mute colour's soft and warm much like a well loved family living room. A mixture of books sitting on the dark wooden shelves point to an eclectic reading taste, though most are work related, and the trophies on the high shelf speak to a personality geared to achieve, yet unwilling to make his success a focus, like their display is meant only for him. There's pictures on the walls, not professionally important ones meant to impress, they're personal, his family; wife, son, even brother and sister if he's reading the faces right on the third picture from the left by the door.
"Reid?!"
"Huh?" Reid snaps his head around.
"You sure you're okay? You realise you don't have to do this now." Hotch is hovering by the wide open door, white knuckled grip on the outside handle.
Staring back at him Reid thinks he's looking oddly nervous, the uneasy gaze making it clear he isn't happy about something. Mind whirling through the possibilities Spencer settles on the most obvious cause. Him. And believing Hotch is nervous because he thinks being alone is making ihimi nervous, Reid tries to rectify that.
"I want to." He forces the small words out, voice quiet. "I don't want it hanging over me, I need to come back to work."
"Reid," Hotch walks back across the room, leaving Morgan looking pained in the doorway, and crouches down in front of him. "Even if we ignore the doctor's advice, which we're certainly not," his eyes narrow briefly, "you need to be cleared by a bureau psychiatrist first."
Reid winces, Hotch is talking to him like he's a child and he doesn't know how to feel about that. He guesses he should be embarrassed, should man up and demand to be treated like any other FBI agent on the team. However, no matter how hard he may try to deny it, that small part of him which has never really grown up enjoys the soft approach too much not to respond positively to it, and he's betting Hotch knows that.
"I know." Reid ducks his head. "Does that mean you're going on cases without me?"
He hadn't wanted to ask the question, but his fears drive him to it. If he's going to be left alone for the next week he needs to prepare for that and at the moment he isn't sure how to.
Hotch pulls a face Reid doesn't know how to interpret, "We're all on temporary leave." He says gently, "The team has to be cleared by a psychiatrist first too."
"Because of me?" he blurts, eyes going wide.
"Because of Hankel," Hotch corrects. "Now, are you going to be okay alone?"
Reid blinks, then realises Hotch means while he talks to Strauss not in general, which is a much easier question to answer.
"Yeah I'll be fine." He nods, meaning it.
"I won't be gone long I promise." Hotch taps his knee and stands, leaving Reid to stare forlornly at the blank sheet of paper before him.
..
"Garcia?"
"Sir!" Penelope spins in her chair. "How's my baby genius?"
Hotch enters her office and shuts the door, smiling at the nickname. "He's okay, he's in my office." Then he drops the smile, looking serious once more "I need you to do something for me."
"Anything," she immediately turns to her computers, fingers splayed over the keyboard ready to type.
"It's not that simple." He winces, knowing he's putting her in a difficult position, but he doesn't have anyone else he trusts enough to ask. "What I need doesn't exactly comply with standard FBI procedures. In fact Strauss will not be pleased."
She stares at him, mouth open, looking perplexed before something settles on her face. "Sir, in case you haven't noticed," she smiles eyeing up her uniquely decorated surroundings, "noncompliance is my speciality."
..
Morgan's walking back toward his desk with a fresh coffee in hand all set to resume writing up his report when he finds JJ sitting in his chair.
"Hey you alright?" He circles her, leaning against the opposite desk.
She's staring at the floor, hands in her lap holding a wad of crumpled tissues. If he had to guess he'd swear she'd been crying.
"I don't think I should be the one your asking." JJ answers without looking up, pulling one tissue from the pile to dab her eyes.
"He's fine." Morgan sinks into the nearest empty chair, "doctor at the hospital said he's got a hell of a bump on his head, some bruises, but thats it."
"That's it?" She asks, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Kid's got a hard head." He mocks, sitting back and laughing.
JJ let's a small smile loose on her lips, and a chuckle escapes. It fades quickly.
"Have you seen his hands?"
"His hands?"
"The marks, they looked deep..."
Morgan nods, catching onto what she's describing. He's noticed the red raw skin encircling Reid's wrists like bracelets, is aware of the scars they might leave behind. Everytime Reid talks with his hands, like he so often does when explaining something he finds exciting, they'll see the marks and they'll remember, like a talisman for evil inflicted upon the innocent, they can never ever forget.
"They're just bruises, they'll fade." He shrugs, restlessly kicking at her chair legs, avoiding eye contact.
"What about the rest?"
"The rest?" Morgan throws one hand in the air in question and sits forward, "JJ what is really going on here?"
"Oh so now you want to know?" She snaps her head up, face hard.
"What?"
"Look forget it," JJ tries to leave but Morgan grabs the corner of the desk, blocking her path.
She falls back, dropping like a stone in water into her seat.
"JJ-"
"No you were right," she breaths out, eyes accusing, hands hanging limping at her sides, "I need to figure this out for myself."
"Hey that's not fair!" Morgan shouts, "l had my own guilt going on, I couldn't deal with yours too!" He consciously lowers his voice even though they are essentially alone in the bullpen. "Back in that house, with the kid missing... I couldn't deal with anything else, I just wanted to find him."
Face softening JJ sits suddenly forward grabbing his clasped hands. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be such a bitch, I'm just...argh this is all so messed up! I hate myself, I could have stopped this, but one stupid decision and... it changes everything."
She'd started her tirade off strong, but disolved into silent tears by the end. Morgan, no longer frowning, slips his hands out of her grip and places both palms over hers.
"He will be okay again." He stares her directly in the eye, making sure she gets he isn't talking just physically this time either.
"How can you be so sure?" JJ asks weakly, sounding like she really really needs to to believe it.
Luckily the answer comes easily to Morgan, "because it's Reid. "
.
Stepping into the bullpen after a few hours at home unable to sleep isn't Emily's ideal way to spend a Sunday afternoon, but then she wouldn't recommend a Saturday night hanging out in an Atlanta ER either, so she's almost grateful for the call from JJ summoning her into the office for a debriefing. However, seeing her and Morgan sitting at his desk, looking to be in the middle of a pretty intense conversation Emily bypasses them and heads straight upstairs towards the conference room. Its as she's passing Hotch's office that strange movement inside catches her eye.
Knocking on the door she doesn't bother waiting for a response before walking in.
"Hotch isn't here." A quiet dejected voice speaks from the couch.
"I kind of figured that." She grins, eyeing up all the crumpled papers littering the floor, the ones she'd seen through the window flying across the room. "You know I bet Morgan could teach you... at least how to aim."
Reid's washed out gaze follows hers towards the waste paper can in the corner, surrounded by, but not containing any paper. Unfortunately his reply is drown out by the sudden and frantic tinny hits of rain pelting the windows. The storm that had been brewing all afternoon finally breaking. With the grey clouds giving the room a darker depressive glow Emily glances back to Reid looking lost sitting on the low sofa, notepad balanced on his knees, regularly chewed pen sticking out of his mouth and a question forms on her lips before dhe can stop it.
"You okay?" Her tone's light but Emily can see from his glassy eyed frown he doesn't know why she bothers asking when the answer is so damn obvious. "Sorry," she creeps closer, perching on the edge of the couch. "We're just worried."
"I know," he sighs, tone as drab as the weather, gaze focused on his feet, "I don't blame you, especially after what happened on the jet."
Emily senses her eyebrows hitting her hairline and coughs, trying to cover her surprise at him even bringing it up. "You remember?"
Reid merely tips his head to the side inquisitively.
"It's really not that bad." She tries to make him feel better.
"I had a complete mental-freaking-breakdown -" He wafts both hands out, nearly impaling her with his pen when he accidentally throws it accross the room. " - in front of everyone!"
Emily ignores the uncharacteristic outburst. And the pen.
"After what you went through its understandable to be overly emotional." She shrugs in the face of his wide eyed glare.
Her understanding isn't welcomed however. Spencer falls back into the couch cushions, folding into himself. Drawing both legs up and under his butt, all without relinquishing his hold on the notepad.
"No it isnt! I'm supposed to be an FBI Agent, you wouldn't be saying that to Hotch or to Gideon."
"Reid its not the same." Emilt reaches out, patting his shaking hands.
"Yeah well I still feel like an idiot." He whines, arms crossed, lip out.
She shakes her head, "We all know you're not."
"Hotch is talking to me like I'm ten." .
"He's worried about you." She rebuffs.
"Morgan's being nice."
Emily looks blank, pretending to think, before placing an affronted look on her face. "Oh yeah, you're right, that's awful..."
They both manage a laugh over that one.
"I know they care," he starts after they settle, the ghost of a smile still on his lips, "but sometimes I feel like the annoying little brother they're all obligated to protect. I mean I know I'm the youngest, but JJ's only a few years older than me and everyone treats her like an equal?"
He'd started out quite timid, but by the time he finishes Reid's face is flush and his hands are shaking again. Prentiss blinks, only just getting he's actually asking her a question. She tips her head and looks at him, really looks. What she sees is nothing but fear, doubt and confusion...
"Reid," she taps his chin for attention, "while you were missing no one could sleep, JJ was a mess, Morgan punched a door, we could all read Hotch like an open book and Garcia went through at least three cubicals of toilet paper at the hospital - I'm pretty sure she used up a whole mascara crying over you."
"I'm sorry-"
"That's just it you don't have to be sorry. There's no obligation. You are and likely always will be the baby brother of this team, so don't you dare try and push us away."
"Us?" Reid latches onto her slip.
Emily curses herself silently before letting loose another little grin, deciding despite her not being part of the team long he still deserves the truth. "You're hard not love, Dr Reid."
They share a wary smile over her words. Though still folded up, legs crossed on the couch Reid's looking a little more himself, obviously embarrassed, probably still scared even though he's managing a better job at hiding it, but he's smiling and Emily sees that as a win. Now, thinking over how to introduce the idea that no one expects any particular behaviour from him, she retrieves the pen and handing it back stares at the blank pages on his lap.
"My report, I don't know what to write." Reid explains, completely bewildered.
Prentiss isn't though. "You know if it's too soon it's okay. No one expects you to recover from this overnight."
"No I need to do it." He snaps and Emily gives him a soft look. "I can do it. I just - don't know where to start."
"Look why don't you try telling it like a story, like a book you'd read, or maybe one Morgan would read," he laughs lightly at her well meaning dig, "then you go back and add the tactical stuff later."
"That's not how we write reports." Reid looks at her, voice still weak, but expression open.
Happy that he's finally listening Prentiss looks back and sighs gently, giving his knee a quick squeeze in support. "Maybe it's how you should write this one."
..
Rain stopped, Reid leaves Hotch's office intending to get some fresh air by fetching a street vendor coffee. Writing the report is making him nauseous and frankly the last thing he wants is to be discovered throwing up in the FBI's bathroom, that would be the icing on his embarrassment layered cake. And it isn't even really the report that's the problem, using Emily's idea he's gotten past what he thought would be the hard part, detailing how he and JJ had split up, the circumstances under which he was taken, but now he's at the ireallyi hard part. He can't lie. Yet he also doesn't want to write it down for all to see, to know his weakness. Reid may be naïve sometimes but he isn't stupid, even with his lack of social graces he knows Strauss won't allow him to continue in the BAU if she finds out what really happened to him. Even without the drugs there's still a possibility she'll decide to move him to a less dangerous position, somewhere where his talent for reading 20,000 words a minute and eidetic memory could be used to full advantage. Though he really does enjoy a good paper trail he doesn't want to spend his life doing it. That report is his death warrant.
Still deep in thought he's just heading out the double glass doors towards the elevator when someone grabs his arm.
"Spence,"
He hadn't meant to blank her this time, really hadn't seen her, but feeling the unexpected hold on his arm he jumps, knocking the files JJ's carrying to the floor.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," Reid apologises shakily, dropping to the floor to help her pick them up.
"No I'm sorry I shouldn't have scared you like that, I" she pauses in her fumbling and takes a breath, "I'm an idiot."
"Its okay," Reid shrugs, feeling the heavy thumping inside his chest slowing.
The corridor is empty accept for them, which is a good thing considering their basically sitting in the middle of it.
"No it isn't, I just..."
Her words drift off, but Reid thinks he knows what she's trying to say, "JJ I'm not avoiding you."
"You're not?" She asks, much less confidently than he's used to.
"No," he stresses, voice breaking, "I just don't want to upset you, any of you, you all seem so sad when you look at me I don't want to disappoint everyone by not be 'okay'."
He's staring at floor, but this time when JJ moves toward him he does see and accepts the hug willingly.
"You can never disappoint us Spence, you hear?" JJ pulls away, wiping her eyes.
He nods even though he knows it's a lie, the vials stashed in his go bag will most certainly disappoint everyone, but to try and make the moment a little less awkward he points to the files still littering the floor and starts piling them up.
"New case?"
"Not exactly," JJ grimaces, "I'm passing them onto other teams."
She doesn't need to explain why. As he collects the last one several photos spill out. Crime scene photos. Reid freezes.
JJ doesn't notice, she carries on talking over his suddenly restricted breathing. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to erase the images from his mind but it doesn't work. The walls close in, chest tight, a buzzing begins in his right ear nearly sending him off balance. Giving up the fight Reid jumps up and flys down the corridor. He can hear JJ calling after him but has no time to answer. He makes it into the bathroom stall, falling to his knees just in time to bring up the coffee Morgan brought him earlier and the slice of toast Hotch forced him to eat before leaving for the hospital.
Sickness abated, Reid sweaty and exhausted slumps back against the open plywood stall door. Heaving, chest aching from the strain of chucking up next to nothing after three days as hostage to a certifiable madman he achieves barely a seconds peace before the sound of the main bathroom door opening startles him.
Without warning Reid's thrust back inside his mind to places he doesn't want to go, reliving his nightmare of being cuffed to a chair, beaten into submission and forced into a harrowing game of Russian roulette - the cornfield, the shed, Tobias- as Charles Hankel, as Raphael - he smells the burning fish hearts, feels the wooden banton impact his foot. Squeezng his eyes tight against what he knows to be false, tears breach his eyelids, running over hot cheeks once again. He'd made on idiot out of himself on the jet last night, again with Hotch early this morning, at the hospital this afternoon and here now, on the floor of the mens room of the FBI Quantico of all places.
"Reid?"
The voice is deep.
"Reid, come on Pretty boy,"
The voice is tense.
"Kid answer me!"
The voice is scared.
"That's it I'm getting Hotch and you're going back to the hospital."
"I'm fine." The words burst forth, eyes springing open.
Forcing himself off the floor on shaky legs Reid makes it to the sink, managing to splash water over his face. Staring at his reflection in the mirror he sees the sunken eyes, flushed cheeks and desolate expression. He doesn't look fine, he is inoti fine. He starts to laugh.
"Something funny?" Morgan's tone is like ice, his fear turning into anger pretty quickly.
Reid understands, everyone's going to be angry with him soon.
"No," Spencer's damn breaks again, the laughter stopping as quickly as it started and an unexpected sob taking its place, coming out after the damning word.
Hands fly up immediately to cover his face. He doesn't want Morgan to see, but Morgan does see and Morgan being Morgan does exactly as Spencer expects when somebody is openly crying in front of him. He steps up and hugs him. Spencer doesn't fight it, he hugs back. He doesn't want to let go.
..
Morgan holds Reid until he calms down and then some, holding him for as long as the kid needs to feel stable again before moving him somewhere he can rest undisturbed.
JJ meets up with him in the bullpen once he has him settled, "Is Reid okay?"
"He's lying down in Gideon's office," is Morgan's non reply.
"Where is Gideon?" Emily asks joining the group.
"We can debrief without him I have his report." Hotch answers coming from his own office and catching Morgan's eye, before moving past them into the briefing room.
They all follow, the woman looking puzzelled and quickly take their seats.
"When you say him you mean Reid right?" Prentiss asks.
"I have his report too." Hotch says without looking up, focus on handing each agent's report back to them.
Reaching out to take hers Emily frowns, sharing a look with JJ who also looks confused, but before either one can put voice to the question Garcia runs into the room shutting the door behind her.
"Sorry I'm late." She looks to Hotch, waits for his acknowledgment and nods.
Morgan moves his gaze between them inquisitively but when neither enlightens the group he shelves it to ask Garcia about later.
Hotch begins the debriefing, "let's start with the first crime scene…"
They discuss the progress of the case, how they came to what conclusion, then finally it reaches the part Morgan is interested in learning the details to.
JJ is talking, "I was looking through old police call outs and discovered there had been a report of a prowler around our first crime scene. That's when you ordered Reid and I to follow up on the witness."
She falls silent realising too late how the words lay blame at Hotch's feet.
"What happened next?" Hotch asks calmly, not reacting to the change of atmosphere in the room.
JJ glances around, swallowing convulsively before continuing with a slight stutter, "We arrived at the Hankel residence. Tobias denied making the report and then Reid figured out it was to measure response time of the police, he ran around the back and witnessed Tobias fleeing to the barn…"
"What happened next?"
"Hotch," JJ pleads.
"Continue." He nods formally.
"We split up." JJ acknowledges reluctantly.
"Reid's report says you objected and suggested you stay together but he ran off to secure the back anyway."
JJ looks surprised he wrote that.
"Is that true?" Morgan asks.
All he wants is to know the truth, how Reid was taken so they can ensure nothing like this ever happens again. Like he'd told her earlier it isn't sbout blame, at the house he simply hadn't time to deal with her guilt, terrified that despite Reid's often used ability to escape trouble by the skin of his teeth, this time Morgan feared it would be the one time that luck was not on his side.
"Yes," JJ agrees nervously, "but I should have followed him, I knew splitting up was a bad idea and we did it anyway."
"You had no cell signal?" Hotch keeps them moving.
"No, but from our knowledge of the crimes we should have known the house had internet, we could have called for back-up inside." JJ sighs. "We made a mistake."
Hotch nods seeming satisfied. Morgan is glad he doesn't press the issue. He's pretty sure JJ won't make the same mistake again. Reid he's not so sure about.
"Let's move on…"
..
"Reid," Hotch nudges him awake. "Reid."
"Huh?"
Spencer shoots up from the chair, Hotch catching in time before he can fall forward to the floor.
"Is it time for the debriefing?"
Aaron had intended to wake him up earlier so he could discuss the incomplete report, but one look at the kid, tear stains on his cheeks even in sleep told him to leave well alone.
"No, we used your report. Spencer, Morgan's going to take you home."
Giving him no opportunity to question why they'd left him out of the debriefing he grabs their coats and helping him up escorts Reid out the door down to the team waiting for them by the elevators.
"I'm okay taking the train," Reid replies around a yawn.
Aaron doesn't reply, a slow close of his eyes and quick head shake as they walk out the double glass doors his only reaction to what has to be one of the stupidest things the genius has ever said.
"Everything okay?" Morgan asks, eyeing Hotch.
"I was just saying I could take the train home, I don't want to be a bother. " Reid repeats and knuckles his dark ringed eyes.
Hotch's immediate face palm behind his back has the essembled group laughing.
"What?" Reid looks from Emily to JJ, Morgan to Garcia before turning on Hotch with a blank look.
Hotch stares back at Reid with a small smile of bewilderment. Luckily he and Morgan had discussed things prior to the debriefing and it was unanimous; Reid wasn't to be alone - for a few days at least. Hotch would have had him at his place, but Morgan suggested that Reid would likely recover quicker if he could stay at his own apartment so volunteered to stay with him.
"Nothing doing kid," Morgan takes him by the shoulder, guiding him out.
Everyone follows, their steps noticeably lighter. Hotch hangs back a moment, looking at Spencer, at Derek, JJ, Emily and Penelope, worried gaze instinctually travelling back to settle on Reid the second he steps forward, joining them on the elevator.
He really wants to believe the worse is over. He needs to. For everyone's sake.