A/N: Thank you all for the reviews!
Hotch cleaned up while Spencer wandered off into a different room. He needed his space every once in awhile, and Hotch used the time to tidy up the aftermath of the tornado that ransacked the apartment on a regular basis. Newspapers and books were thrown about, their pages fluttering helplessly. Clothes and papers, even case files, were scattered about; and Aaron carefully organized everything back the way he figured Reid would want it when he was in the right state of mind. He'd only been here once before all of this started happening, and the place had been immaculate. Not a fiber out of place, and that scared him almost as much as Spencer's behavior.
Reid, meanwhile, was aimlessly walking around his bedroom. 'Spencer, you are troubling him,' the familiar voice of his mother chimed in his ear. He gritted his teeth, "He doesn't want to leave." The room was silent for a moment, and Reid foolishly wondered if she'd given up for now. He crossed back towards the door, the mirror over his dresser catching his reflection; and the reflection of someone next to him. He yelped, backing up as Emily stared at him through the mirror. 'You need to move on, I didn't love you anyway,' it always confused him the most that this Emily sounded exactly like his mother. He never imagined his subconscious pairing the two up. In his desperation to escape, he ran out into the hall, right into Hotch.
"Who were you talking to?" All he could manage to do was shake his head. "Are you seeing things again?" Hotch asked gently, and Reid wanted to run. He wanted to run out the front door and down to the street, and keep running. Past the B.A.U. office, and across the state line. He wanted to run as far as he could until his legs refused to hold him upright anymore and he collapsed into exhausted heep in a drain on the side of the road. He'd curl up there and die, but he'd be free. Instead, he stood rooted in place before his boss, his friend. Was Aaron Hotchner, his boss, his friend too? Could they be friends? He doubted it. It felt like he was an obligation that Hotch was required by his conscious to tend to. Surely Jack would rather be with his father then his Aunt?
He didn't even realize tears were dripping from his eyes until Hotch forced a tissue in his hand. Brushing the salty liquid away, he kept his eyes on the ground between their feet, waiting for Hotch to do something. "Spencer, what are you doing to yourself?" The sadness in the deep, soothing voice wasn't something he was used to hearing, and it threw him off guard. "I've seen you deal with some of the most terrible, traumatic things the world has to offer, and you've been doing it since you were a child. Why are you breaking now?" It was a rhetorical question; he'd learned that social que from paying close attention to the others, not every question was meant to be answered.
Four loud knocks on the door startled them both, and Spencer was instantly alert. Hotch took in his stance, and tried not to smile when he got the mental image of a kitten ready to pounce. Seeing as Reid didn't make a move for the door, Hotch took the liberty upon himself to check the peephole. "Morgan?" Spencer was surprised to hear Hotch say when the door opened. Morgan had stopped by a few times through out the day, and rather often after a bad case. Morgan was a good friend like that, even though Spencer wished Derek would hang out with him even when either of them didn't need comforting. He'd often considered what it would be like to be best friends with Derek Morgan, well at least best friends that extended beyond what happened at the office. Watching sport games and going to the bars; would they poke fun at each other and laugh? Of course, Spencer Reid would never ask Derek Morgan if he wanted to spend some time with him on a night they had off.
"Just coming to visit and see how you two were doing. Lucky bastards got out of some brutal paperwork," Morgan complained, flashing one of his award winning smiles Reid's way as he casually strode into the room. Hotch shut the door and joined Morgan on the couch while Reid stood quietly by the hallway. "How are you feeling, pretty boy?" The nickname was just never going to go away. He had gotten used to it, but for some reason, it bothered him when Hotch heard it; not that his boss had ever made a comment about it, but still.
"I'm alright," he lied, knowing damn well he wasn't fooling anyone. Honesty when it came to emotions just wasn't one of his strong points. Neither of them called him on his lie though, and he was grateful.
"That's good. We miss you at the office, it's just not the same without learning things we didn't need to know." Morgan's use of 'we' bothered him too. One of the 'we' was missing. He should have said, Rossi, Seaver, Garcia, and I miss you; and Emily would miss you too, only she's dead. He dropped his eyes to the floor again.
"I miss you guys too," he said quietly, trying to make it sound believable. He did miss them, but he knew he'd never be able to set foot in the B.A.U. again without hurting. He'd never be able to sit at his desk and chat with the rest of the team without his eyes straying to the now vacant desk. It would always be the big pink elephant in the room.
Morgan and Hotch started up a conversation, thankfully leaving him out of it. He didn't bother telling them he was leaving the room; he silently turned and headed down the hall to his bedroom, avoiding the mirror as he crossed to his bed. Burrowing under the covers, he hoped Hotch and Morgan wouldn't notice he had disappeared too soon, or maybe they would just leave him be for the rest of the day. He shut his eyes, a random memory crossing behind his eyelids. 'He's so life like,' Emily had once joked. He wondered if she'd say the same thing if she saw him now.