Author's note: Sorry it has been a while since I updated. I have recently become obsessed with In Plain Sight. I absolutely love that show and have been distracted lately with it.

Who is super stoked that Prentiss and AJ are bothback and Seaver is out? I am so excited! Maybe they can salvage the show next season and we might actually get an answer for Reid's headaches. Anyway, hope you enjoy the newest chapter.

Chapter 10

There was a gnawing feeling in the back of Reid's skull as he waited patiently in the wheel chair. Hotch was taking care of the release forms and Morgan was talking with the nurses about his at home care. The rest of the team was already on their way to the airport, it was just going to be Morgan, Hotch, and himself on the 2 hour ride. He hoped they wouldn't want to talk anymore, he was tired of talking. He had refused any pain meds the entire day before and he had made Morgan promise he would rip of any prescriptions they were going to give him.

"Let's get this taxi moving," Morgan said quietly as he appeared at his back, gently pushing him towards the door.

"You know you shouldn't get this much enjoyment out of pushing me around in a wheel chair," Reid said playfully.

"Yeah, well, it's the simple things," Morgan replied with a grin. "Hotch is going to pull the car around. You want to wait inside?"

"That's fine." The morning sun was bright and Reid had to shield his eyes with his hand, the last thing he needed right now was to trigger a migraine. Morgan reached into Reid's go bag that was slung over his shoulder and fished out his sunglasses, almost reading his mind. "Thanks," He mumbled.

Reid had already calculated in his head how long it would take them to drive to the airport, but he wanted to fill the silence. "How long will it take us to get to the jet?"

"Couple hours," Morgan replied, shifted the weight of the bag over his shoulder. "I'll let you have shotgun if you want."

Reid smiled, "Oh, you'll 'let' me huh?"

"Hey, I can be a nice guy when needed," He replied.

"Well, I think I would rather have the back seat, to stretch out if I want to." Reid replied seriously as the familiar black SUV pulled up to the curb.

He felt dizzy when he stood, steadying himself on Morgan's arm. He took slow, baby steps to the open car door. He felt much better than he had a few days earlier, but his body was nowhere near where it was before, not that it was that great to begin with. His chest ached as he settled himself against the cool leather seat. His broken and bruised ribs would take a while to heal. He was looking forward to the time when he could take a deep breath without wincing.

Morgan returned the wheelchair and after he placed Reid's bag in the back, he climbed in the front seat.

"We all set?" Hotch asked behind his FBI sunglasses.

Reid nodded as Morgan replied, "Let's get on the road."

Rossi had already seated himself on the jet in the seat farthest from the couch. He assumed Morgan would insist that Reid stretch out there and Rossi wanted to give him as much space as he could. He didn't want to crowd Reid. It was obvious that he didn't want to talk about anything that had happened in the last few days. Rossi pretended to be looking over a case file while Prentiss and Seaver were playing a card game at the table near him. He looked up when he saw Hotch board the jet.

Hotch dropped Reid's bag on the couch as Morgan helped Reid through the door. They were moving at a very slow pace. Watching Reid move so slowly was like nails on a chalkboard. He was used to the kid being a ball of energy, not this frail thing that looked like he could be blown over as easily as a tooth pick. Morgan guided him towards the couch.

"I would rather sit at the table," Reid protested.

"You sure you don't want to rest?" Morgan held him up easily.

"Yeah," Reid replied. "Besides, I could do with some extra spending money." He smiled at Prentiss as Morgan eased him into the seat.

"Who said we were playing for money?" Prentiss chimed in.

"I figured it might make things a little more exciting. Besides, you might want to take advantage of the fact that I'm not at the top of my game today."

"Hey, I've beaten you before Las Vegas." Prentiss grinned back.

"You beat me one time." Reid reminded her.

"That's enough for me!" She started to shuffle the cards. "Ashley, you have to watch this one," She pointed at Reid, "He cheats!"

Hotch seated himself near Rossi and watched the playful exchange between his agents. It was a welcomed change from the past few days.

"You think he's really doing better or is he just really good at pretending to be?" Rossi asked Hotch quietly as he settled himself in his seat.

"I haven't decided yet." He answered.

Garcia felt a little strange waiting around in Reid's apartment. It was probably more accurate to describe Reid's apartment as a library with a bed and coffee maker thrown in there. It wasn't a messy place, it was actually rather organized. There were just a lot of books stacked in various piles, and not much else. She had used her spare key to let herself in to get things ready. She had done some laundry, tidied up, put fresh sheets on his bed, and stocked his pantry and fridge with a few things she knew he liked. She had brought over a few of her DVDs, but should have known better when she discovered Reid didn't own a television.

She now sat nervously on his couch, hoping that Reid wouldn't suspect why she was really there. Morgan had sent her over to make sure Reid didn't have any drug paraphernalia left over. Not that either of them suspected he did, they just wanted to make sure. She hadn't found anything drug related, but she did find something interesting. A smile had crosser her face when she stumbled upon a copy of Celebrity Sneak Peak magazine. Garcia's fingers traced over the cover. The back of someone's head, that familiar shaggy brown hair was such a contrast to the beautiful blond. That Reid seemed like such a long time ago, a lot had happened since then.

Garcia jumped at the knock on the door. She hurried over and pulled the door open to find Morgan and Reid on the other side.

"Oh, boy genius, you're a sight for sore eyes." She smiled at him and squeezed him arm. She didn't try and hug him. She knew he couldn't support her weight and she knew if she hugged him she wouldn't be able to stop herself from squeezing the life out of him.

"You look lovely today," He replied as he stumbled into his apartment.

"Thanks," Garcia snatched a quick hug from Morgan after Reid got settled on the couch.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, watching him from where she stood. She felt a little awkward, afraid he might break if she sat next to him.

"I'm doing much better." He smiled as he scanned the apartment. "Thanks for cleaning up."

"Oh, it wasn't that messy." She flattened her skirt as she took a seat in the armchair across from him. "You want me to make you some tea or something?"

"Oh no," He waved his hand, "Thank you though."

"You want something to eat?" She adjusted her glasses.

"No thanks." Reid ran a hand through his hair. "I appreciate you guys taking the time to clean up and get me home, but I'm fine."

"Reid," Morgan began, seating himself on the couch. "We aren't going anywhere ok."

Reid sighed; he wanted to keep himself calm. He didn't want to lash out at his friends; they were only trying to help him. All he wanted right now was to be alone for one damn minute. He felt that familiar pressure building behind his eyes. He had started to feel nauseated while Morgan helped him climb the steps to his 2nd floor apartment. There was no doubt in his mind that a full blown migraine was about to show its ugly head.

"Guys I think I would like to get cleaned up." He flashed a shy smile.

"I'll go draw you a bath." Garcia jumped up and headed towards the bathroom.

"Thanks. Could you make it a hot one?" He requested.

"Of course!" She called as she disappeared into the bathroom.

"Um, what do you….need help with?" Morgan asked.

"Relax," Reid smiled. "Just help me to my bedroom and I'll take care of the rest."

Morgan rose to his feet and helped Reid to his. They slowly made their way down the hallway that leads to his bedroom. Garcia was busing herself in the bathroom as they walked past the open door.

Morgan seated Reid on the side of his bed. "Now, just give me a holler and I'll help you to the bathroom."

"Thanks, but I can make it on my own." Reid reassured him.

"You sure?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, it will be fine. I can hold onto the wall for support." Reid replied. When Morgan gave him a skeptical look Reid sighed. "Morgan, I can make it to the bathroom by myself. Really."

"OK," Morgan turned to leave the room. "When you're done you are going to eat something and then back to bed."

Reid knew there was no point in arguing, so he just nodded. Once the door closed behind him Reid grasped for the draw in his bedside table. He always kept Excedrin in the bed side table. He opened the bottle and popped 4 in his hand. He knew it was more than he should take but he couldn't use his prescription for another week and he could already tell this was going to be a bad one. There was a glass of water sitting on the bed, it was from before the team had left on their last case, but Reid didn't care. He downed the pills and the water. He sat there for a minute, holding his head in his hands. He focused on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He needed to keep the medicine down long enough for it to work, but the nausea seemed to be winning.

He jumped when there was a light rap on the bedroom door.

"Reid," Garcia called quietly. "Your bath is ready."

"Thank, Penelope," Reid called. "I'll be out in a minute." Reid unbuttoned his shirt and winced as he pulled it off, his chest tightened. Sean Masterson had really done a number on his ribs and his face. Reid could feel the deep bruises on the side of his face and he could see it in the eyes of everyone who looked at him, Reid looked awful.

He laid his clothes in a pile on the bed and slowly rose to his feet. He steadied himself then made his way to the door and grabbed his bathrobe. He pulled the robe on and tied it around his waist tightly before opening the door.

Penelope was waiting their quietly. "Need some help to the bathroom?" She asked with a smile.

Reid could have made it by himself, but he knew Garcia was only trying to help. She was here in Quantico the whole time Reid had been in the hospital and she wanted to make up for not being there, even though there was no need. Reid gave a warm smile and nodded. She helped him walk down the hallway into the bathroom. Reid could tell the water was very hot by the steam and heat that hit him as they entered the bathroom. Garcia sat him down on the toilet and made her way back to the door.

"I put a towel on the rack for you and there is one on the side of the tub for you to lay your head on." She turned to leave.

"Thanks," Reid smiled.

"Sure," She went to close the door. "Now, call if you need anything; don't be shy."

"Ok," Reid watched as the door closed behind her. He stood up and turned to face the mirror. The side of his face was purple and green and there were small nicks and cuts along his nose and forehead. The angry red bite marks on his arms were now just small red dots. Reid took a deep breath, and then regretted it as a sharp pain shot through his chest. He studied the black and dark purple bruises that ran all along the right side of his chest.

He made his way to the light switch and turned the harsh lights off. He knew his way around his bathroom like the back of his hand. There had been many nights when he had tried to alleviate the pain in his head with a soak in a hot bath in the dark. He took off his robe and hung it up on the hook on the back of the door. He slowly made his way to the tub and eased himself into the hot water.

He used the towel Garcia had left for him as a pillow against the harsh coolness of the tub. His bathtub wasn't huge, but it was large enough to allow him to lie comfortably, but his knees stuck out of the water just a bit. The pain in his head was getting worse, but the hot water and darkness were helping.

He took shallow breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. Even with his eyes closed and the lights in the bathroom out, lights were flashing under his eye lids. That was one of the worst things about Migraines for Reid, even in the absolute pitch darkness; he couldn't escape the dancing light. It had always fascinated Reid that there were people in the world who had never experienced a migraine headache. There were lots of triggers for migraines, and they affect people differently. Why him? Why did he have to suffer like this when others never did? He knew the answer to his question, but he didn't want to admit it to himself right at that moment. Schizophrenia seemed to plague his thoughts most of the time these days.

When the headaches had started he had immediately wanted there to be a physical explanation.

Reid sat on the exam table, the yellow bracelet on his wrist.

"That doesn't make any sense." He looked up at the man standing across from him.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say." The doctor responded.

"So there's nothing wrong?"

The doctor studied the file in his hands. "Well, your scans are perfectly normal and there doesn't seem to be any physical explanation for your headaches."

Reid couldn't believe it. "What do I do now?"

The doctor sighed, "Well have you considered…" He hesitated.

"Considered what?" Reid waited.

"A psychosomatic cause?" The doctor replied.

"Psychosomatic?"

The doctor quickly replied quickly, "It just means a, a mental or emotional stress."

"I know," Reid interrupted. "I know what it psychosomatic means doctor, but it's not that."

"Well, I think its something we should consider."

"Listen, I'm not crazy," Reid replied defensively.

"Crazy?" The doctor replied. "Look Dr Reid, I'm not…"

"No listen," Reid barked. "I have headaches. I have headaches. I have intense sensitivity to light because there is something wrong with me, physically not mentally. It's not that."

"That?" The doctor asked confused.

"Listen Doctor, my mother is a paranoid schizophrenic who's been institutionalized so I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you." He rose to his feet. "It's not that. It's not."

Reid remembered storming out of the hospital, so angry with that doctor. Reid had felt guilty later for taking out his fears and stress on that doctor. He was just doing his job, but Reid couldn't accept the fact that the headaches could be because of that. After he had seen the other doctors he was afraid that his fear would quickly become his reality. He began second guessing himself on everything. He began studying everything around him trying, to prove to himself that he wasn't crazy.

He was just so tired of being afraid of what he might become. He had been through so much in his lifetime; he had accomplished so much on his own. He had seen what schizophrenia had done to his mother. From what Reid could tell all that was bothering him were the headaches but it still made him tired to think about what might be happening to him and now the entire team knew about it.

He tried to push those thoughts from his mind but the thoughts that filled that void weren't much better. He could remember Olivia lying on that dirty floor next to him; he remembered what it felt like when her hand went slack in his.

Olivia had been through so much, she had wanted to stop what she was doing. She had confessed to him, ready to turn herself in and go to jail just so she could stop herself. She had tried to make things right, she had saved him and what had that gotten her. She died a horrible death right in front of his eyes. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wipe those images from his memory. They would be there for the rest of his life. He couldn't control the tears that began to fall from his eyes. He tried to stop himself from sobbing so Morgan and Garcia wouldn't hear him, but it physically hurt his body to hold in the sobs. He tried to calm himself, but knew that he couldn't. Even though the water was still warm he pulled the plug from the drain and allowed the sound of the water being sucked from the tub to cover the sound of his sobs.