Six weeks later...
"I want to talk about what happened back in February." the psychiatrist sits back in his chair looking very self-assured.
"I'm sorry you need to be more specific." Reid deflects, feeling the complete opposite.
He's been on the edge of his seat since the session began, his bi-weekly appointments when he's in the office becoming a hindrance to his work.
"The Tobias Hankel case."
Hearing that name Reid pales instantly, and by the look on the doctor's face it's exactly the reaction he was hoping for.
"I'm sorry... I, I... er thought I was here because of Gideon." He hates that he stutters.
"An evaluation of your team was requested after the departure of Agent Gideon, and the surrounding issues with the potential breaking up of the team, yes." the doctor's very tone suggests a challenge, his expression daring him, asking 'what of it?'
"Hotch and Emily both decided to stay." He blurts in panic, revealing much more about his personal relationship with his colleagues than he means to. "There's no problem, we have Agent Rossi now, we're fine."
The doctor scribbles something in the notebook on his lap and Reid shifts in his seat while he's not looking, trying to get a look.
"Dr Reid," Spencer immediately drops back, feining innocent, "I'm not the enemy. I want to help you deal with this in the healthiest way possible so you can do your job."
"I'm the only one still seeing you aren't I?" The dread the realisation brings heard clearly in his tone.
Again Reid knows he's letting his body language and facial expression reveal too much when he hears the doctors next question. "What do you dream about Dr Reid?"
"What?" Spencer looks up meekly.
"In your previous sessions with me you've mentioned suffering nightmares after the Hankel incident."
"What's that got to do with this?" he makes a face, shrugs and moves on, "I don't need to see you about that."
"What we dream about gives an insight into our state of mind. After such a horrific experience I think your subconscious may have resurfaced some issues you thought you buried."
"I remember everything." Reid points out defensively, trying to gain the upper hand.
"Spencer, I'm well aware of your eidetic memory but even someone like you can supress memory you don't want to acknowledge and given these circumstances it makes sense that whatever avenues you relived after such a traumatic event are ones you've tried you're hardest to bury again and again. They need to be dealt with, you're not a child anymore, it's about time."
Spencer drops his head, feeling sad and stupid and wanting to give up. The alarm on the doctor's watch goes off like clockwork and he sighs disappointedly.
"We'll pick this up in our next session…" He packs his things quickly and shows Spencer to the door.
Reid leaves just as quickly, dashing out of the office and up the stairs to the next floor not even bothering to wait for the elevator. He practically runs into the bullpen, but it seems it's lunch time already because no one from his team is around. Scanning the room he spots Hotch walking around the desk in his office. Heading up the stairs, heart fluttering Reid picks up his pace but falters upon catching sight of Strauss standing by the open door. He steps back quickly, near tripping over his feet to get away from the windows before she sees him. Now floundering in the middle of the mezzanine upset, alone and unable to run to anyone for comfort Reid starts to panic.
"Spencer?"
Breathing quick and erratic he spins around at the unexpected calm and inquisitive call of his name.
"Agent Rossi?" he squeaks in surprise at the man poking his head out of Gideon's old office. "I'm fine."
He studies him silently and Reid averts his eyes, internally kicking himself.
"I didn't ask, but okay" Rossi speaks smoothly, "I have heard you lie better though." He adds artfully before turning to go back inside his office.
Reid would've frowned at that had he not been so focused on keeping himself together. The last thing he wants to do is to make an idiot out of himself in front of David Rossi, someone whom he's greatly admired for a long time, even if it is from a distance. Feeling his heart still hammering in his chest from his session with the world's most aggressive shrink, who Reid is beginning to think has an agenda bigger than making him uncomfortable, he takes a minute to think. Looking back to see if Hotch is still busy he notes someone has shut the door, Strauss hasn't passed him so assumes she's still in there too.
"Why don't you come inside?"
Reid whips his head back around to discover Rossi hovering on the precipice of his office, watching him carefully.
"I think they're going to be a while," he nods at Hotch's closed door.
Breathing still heavy Reid watches Rossi carefully as he reaches out, offering his hand.
"It's okay," he coaches.
Reluctantly Spencer accepts the hand and lets Rossi guide him into the office.
"Sit down, you look a little peeked." He tells him, beckoning him to a chair.
Yet to say a word and feeling over-simulated by the situation Reid can feel his body pretty much shutting down, but he does as he's told and tries to force a response past his suddenly dry lips.
"What's happening?" is all his 187 IQ brain can come up with after finding himself sitting, facing Rossi looking thoughtfully at him from behind the wide desk.
"Hotch is busy," Rossi says nonchalantly, as if he isn't making a complete ass out of himself, "Strauss has him pinned, nothing to worry about, but knowing the wicked witch well I doubt it'll be over quickly."
Rossi smiles and suddenly Reid gets it. He's humouring him, acting as if nothing is out of the ordinary even though it very clearly is, don't need to be a profiler to see that. Even in his confused and vulnerable state Reid knows Rossi can see right through him and is playing the situation to gain an advantage. Though to what end he has no idea.
"Despite what you may think I have no ulterior motive." Rossi grins at his look of surprise before leaning forwards and adopting a more sombre concerned expression, "Is it something I can help with?"
Reid starts rubbing his thumb against his index finger in a nervous repetitive motion. Head down he focuses on a spot on the floor, eyes occasionally flicking upward to gage the mood of the room, waiting Rossi out. Unfortunately the man just sits there drinking from his coffee cup, patient as a saint like this is a game, or maybe… an interrogation. Reid wants to kick himself again.
"Did you know acorns were used as a coffee substitute during the civil war?"
"Interesting," Rossi says it in a tone that suggests it really isn't and the brief normalcy he felt vanishes to be replaced with self-conscious recrimination.
His abject disappointment must have been obvious because suddenly Rossi is no longer sat behind his desk, but sitting in the spare seat next to him. The stealthy-ness of how quickly he moves without being seen is amazing considering his age, but the surprise of having someone not only sneak up on him, but also invade his personal space has Reid blushing.
"Sorry," Spencer mutters, head down avoiding eye contact, feeling the need to explain his reaction, then realising sorry doesn't explain a thing.
An IQ of 187 means squat in these situations. Socially he's dumber than 99% of the adult population, he's sure of it. Meanwhile Rossi is smile proudly, as if finding his discomfiture amusing.
"You know my grandfather once said something to me after I married my first wife, 'David, always weed your lawn, otherwise they'll take root, grow to five times the size and be a real pain to get out.'"
"What does that mean?" Reid queries innocently, pulling his brows together in a frown.
"I've no idea." Rossi chuckles lightly giving Spencer the feeling he's finally done something right in the man's eyes.
Ever since they met he's felt Rossi doesn't know how to respond to him - understandable really, considering that's the reaction he gets from most people when they first meet him. Hotch, Morgan and of course Gideon being the first to ever treat him normally, as crazy as that sounds, but even that level comradery took a little time. Admittedly Morgan did tease him from the very second he stepped foot in the bullpen, but he learned quick that it was harmless friendly banter, not the mean teasing he'd come accustomed to, the kind he received from his peers at school, college and yes even the FBI academy, the one place he thought finally he'd be accepted for who he was.
Seeing Rossi smile softly at him Spencer feels compelled to smile back, feeling much more relaxed than he had upon leaving the psychiatrist's office, but recalling what had him running into the bullpen looking for comfort in the first place sobers him rather quickly. He feels stupid now, but it isn't something he can control. Ever since he ended up at Hotch's house admitting his problem, hell he felt like the world was ending that night, but it didn't and even though his journey's been fraught, he's made it this far and Hotch is proud of him, he knows that. He also knows when he's not feeling so great that Hotch will understand and look after him still. He's not had a nightmare on the jet for a while, at least not since Rossi's joined the team, but that may not continue to be the case if the so called Doctor in charge of his mental health keeps up his prodding. Only his team know the real truth of what happened...
Reid instantly flashes back on Tobias, the shed, the smell of burning fish guts, feel of the needle as it pierces his skin and takes all the pain, all the fear away…. Just for a little while.
"Reid?"
Spencer hears his name being called but he can't get the images out of his head, memories mixing between the shed, the cemetery and Hotch's living room… his team, Hankel, the gun…
Reid snaps his eyes open, the sensation of falling causing him to reach out, fight to catch hold of the nearest solid object.
He blinks, he's confused, looking down he sees his hands are encased in Rossi's, the older man watching him with honest to god concern in his eyes telling him over and over again that he's safe.
"It's okay." Rossi tells him softly once he acknowledges his presence and place in the room.
"Sorry," Reid feels his face flush, heat instantly flooding his cheeks.
"Nothing to be sorry for, take your time."
He sniffs and sits back lightly, leaving his hands entwined with Rossi's, grateful for the grounding hold. They share a moment of uncomfortable silence before Spencer realises something.
"Eight months ago I was kidnapped by an unsub with a dissociative identity disorder." He takes a deep breath, steadying his voice before launching into the very subject he doesn't want to talk about to that mean bastard of a shrink.
Eyeing the older man still holding his hands to gage his reaction, Reid waits for the usual 'you don't have to' speech, which is code for 'I rather not know your pain thank you very much' but Rossi remains silent, maintaining what little eye contact Spencer is allowing, waiting patiently for him to continue.
It's difficult, but he does it, starting from the very beginning. Telling it like a story, just like Emily counselled him all those months ago.
"…After one of the dominant personalities beat me," His voice cracks on that admission, eyes finding the ceiling rather interesting, "the submissive personality tried to help me."
"Help you how?" Rossi asks on cue.
Granted Reid would have waited forever before he admitted this next part, but thankfully he's not misjudged the situation, a first for him he supposes, and Rossi asks the question again as soon as it's clear he won't say anything further unless invited.
"He injected me with Dilaudid." Reid announces shyly, knowing this will be the test as to whether Rossi means what he says or not.
The strong reinforced grip of his hands tells him he does and Reid smiles, relaxing his shoulders allowing the hold to drop away while he shares the rest of the story.
The funny thing about him is, despite being alone a lot of his life, he's actually never been good at dealing with things without someone guiding him. Whether it be his mom in her lucid moments or a teacher or mentor he's always looked to someone else to show him the way emotionally. His whole life he's been desperate for that strong authority figure to help make the tough decisions with him. Ever since he took that aptitude test as a kid his life had been taken over by well-meaning adults wanting to push him to his intellectual limits. They focused so much on his intelligence that no one considered his emotional development. He told Gideon in New Orleans he'd been groomed for the BAU. What he meant was he'd allowed himself to be lead towards a career that not only allowed him to use his skills freely, but provided him with the security and structure of an over-protective family.
"How old are you Spencer?"
Rossi's voice breaks through his thoughts.
"Sorry?"
"How old are you?" He repeats, eyeing him carefully.
"Twenty-six, one month and six days" He answers quickly.
His birthday was shortly before Rossi's arrival. Morgan made sure to make him do just about everything he sucked at. They went to bars, had lots of drinks, he even danced. Or tried. The only thing which made it all worthwhile was that everyone was there, everyone but Gideon of course.
"You know when I turned eighteen I was drafted to Vietnam. Scary as hell. Over 40 years later I still have nightmares."
"How'd you know I'm having nightmares?" Reid asks abruptly before he can stop himself, latching onto that keyword.
Rossi smiles meaningfully at him. Reid huffs a sigh. He didn't know. But he does now.
"You ran into the bullpen looking like you'd seen a ghost. I knew something was up."
Reid deflates, but can't really blame himself; he knows you can never hide anything from a profiler.
"Strauss made us all see a FBI physiatrist after Gideon left as a condition of Hotch staying on as unit chief. He's awful. He's mean, shouts at me when I have no idea what to say and is obsessed in trying to get me to talk about what happened last February."
"Why?" Rossi frowns.
"Because I've stupidly told him about how when I was ten my father left, leaving me with my schizophrenic mother who couldn't remember what day it was let alone that she had a ten year old son sometimes." Reid vents to the floor, he really doesn't want to sound like he blames his mom because he doesn't, but the frustration is hard to hide when he's fighting to keep all his other emotions in check.
Sneaking a look up at Rossi through his fringe Reid doesn't quite know how to read his current look, can safely say he's not happy, but the reason why is what's alluding him.
"You okay?" He asks, earning him a quizzical look off Rossi in return.
"I'm good."
It's a lie and Spencer knows it. He's a profiler too after all, but before he can say anything else Rossi continues.
"Let me guess, this quack thinks you have unexplored abandonment issues?" Rossi's expression softens, "Gideon left the same way your father did I take it?"
Spencer knows everyone is pretty much aware of the circumstances surrounding Gideon's departure so doesn't feel the need to elaborate. "Yeah."
Rossi promptly sits forward and takes hold of his hands again, "I don't know about your father, but I hope you're not thinking Gideon left because of what happened to you. Whatever had Gideon walking away was all him kiddo, trust me."
Spencer sucks in a breath, feels like he's been hit by a brick. The truth is despite how self-absorbed it sounds that's exactly what he's been thinking. If he wasn't so needy, if he'd stayed out of trouble more, if he'd just been… better? After all his father's and Gideon's last words to him where eerily similar, 'I don't know what to do anymore' - 'I don't know how to do it anymore' and of course Reid being who he is can't forget either one.
"I forgot you knew him too." Reid smiles weakly not daring to admit hearing someone say the words actually helps.
"You forgot?" Rossi mocks good-heartedly.
"Figure of speech." He smiles in return, a real honest smile that nearly reaches his eyes. It feels good.
"Everything okay?" The words in the familiar deep voice come after a swift knock on the door which has been left ajar.
Spencer snaps his head around, startled to see Hotch standing there looking drawn and tired.
"Better than you," Rossi shoots back jokingly, giving Reid time to compose himself. "Strauss giving you hell?"
"No more than usual." Is Hotch's eventual reply, his eyes tracking the pair of them, looking for signs of what's going on.
While his two much older colleagues have a silent conversation over his head Reid releases his hands from Rossi's and swipes at his eyes, not having realised he'd been so close to crying. Sitting between them, head down gaze to the floor Spencer is aware that the shared contact and close proximity certainly indicate something more than a casual conversation is occurring. That and the fact he's sitting in Rossi's office of course.
"I better get back to work." He tries to sound casual about it but knows from their expressions of concern he's fooling know one.
"Actually I haven't had lunch yet. Why don't you join me for coffee?" Hotch offers holding his arm out.
Spencer takes the hint and gingerly standing waves a little goodbye to Rossi before preceding Hotch out the door.
.