Possible Wingfic.

Reid dropped his pen into the tray in his desk drawer. He'd just signed off on his last consult of the week and was ready to head home. He pushed his chair backwards from his desk and threw his arms out to his sides, stretching his burning back muscles. He reached his left hand over to his right shoulder and started massaging it as best as he could. Unfortunately, he knew that no matter how hard he rubbed the pain just wouldn't go away.

Giving up on his fruitless pursuit, he dropped his hand away from his aching limb. "Two more weeks," he muttered as he bent over and grabbed his messenger bag.

In two weeks he would be going in for his annual surgery. One that he had to have every year because of his condition. He always planned it for June because the amount of cases the team had seemed to slow down over the summer, allowing him the time he needed for his recovery.

Of course, the team didn't know he was having surgery done every year. No, they thought he was away, immersing himself in academia – getting another degree, working on a research project, writing articles, and giving lectures…well, not too many lectures; everyone knew how poor he was at public speaking. This year his cover was that he was going back to Cal Tech to work on an abnormal psychology research project with some of his former professors – and it wasn't a complete lie. He was going to work with his alma mater on a project; they just didn't need him to be there in person to utilize his expertise. He would be communicating with them via email and conference calls while he was at home during his convalescence.

Spencer sighed at the thought of leaving on a lie again. He hated that he couldn't share his true self with his teammates, but it had been a stipulation when the FBI hired him that only the director, the executive assistant director and the section chief of his division would be privy to his special circumstances. Even Gideon, his recruiter and former mentor, never knew about his secret. Though the genius was pretty sure the older agent had his suspicions – that he really knew what Spencer was.

An abnormal.

Abnormal was the name given to people that had a little something extra in their DNA. Less than one percent of the population in the world fell into this new category of human being and society was having a hard time accepting them.

Abnormals were people with visible genetic mutations whose origins at this point cannot be explained by science. For example, about a year ago the team had met a young lady that had a pair of horns growing out of her forehead. They were long and pointy and everyone she encountered ruthlessly referred to her as a demon. Another example was the older man that appeared on the news this week. The guy had a perfectly normal body except for the talons that he had for fingers.

Reid's abnormality was more extreme than those examples but luckily he had found a surgeon that was willing to help him hide his defect. The problem was the surgeon's solution wasn't permanent. His abnormality kept growing back every year – a drawback that he had to share with the FBI when they were considering hiring him.

Thankfully, the director at the time was not as scared of abnormals as the rest of society. He reassured Reid that his defect would not pose a problem as long as the young man did not advertise it. The man was well aware that the society that Spencer would be serving in his job was not ready for an "Abnormal Agent." Accepting and agreeing with the director's explanation for why he should hide his additional appendages, Reid willingly signed the contract put in front of him and started his job as a BAU agent.

Besides, hiding his genetic defect wasn't anything new to him. He had worked hard since puberty to hide the appendages. It was hard enough being a child prodigy that was smarter than all his peers and most adults, giving people another reason to hate him would have made life unbearable. Up until his interview with the FBI the only people who knew of his defect were his mother, the doctor she found to help him out, and the physician's staff. Not even his father was privy to his secret. So, when he first joined the BAU he didn't think twice about keeping his abnormal status confidential.

But now…

Now, the team had morphed into the family he had never had and it pained him to keep something like this hidden from them. After all the secrets that he had learned about his friends, it felt like he was betraying their trust by not confiding in them.

Especially now after Emily's death.

The team was fractured – barely holding on to their once cohesive bond.

But if they found out about his secret now…well they might not ever recover from the blow.

Worried that his mind was about to embark down a dark road, Reid shook his head and banished his dour thoughts to the back of his mind.

He threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder and reached over to turn off the desk lamp. His elegant fingers were centimeters away from pushing in the switch when a voice called out to him, "Oh, Dr. Reid. You are still here."

Spencer looked up to the walkway stationed around the outer edge of the bullpen and saw Strauss peeking out of her office.

"Ma'am?"

The stern woman fully emerged from her doorway and walked over to rail, placing her hands on the metal barrier. "I just got off the phone with the director. He wants to speak with you."

"With me?" the genius asked, incredulous that the new director of the FBI even knew who he was.

"Yes, Agent Reid. With you," she said, furrowing her brow at the fact that he had questioned her previous statement.

"Tonight?"

Strauss sighed and let go of the railing, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Well, to be perfectly honest, I didn't think you'd still be here this late on a Friday night."

Reid blushed at her comment. "I-I…uh, was just finishing up a few consults."

The section chief pursed her lips like she had just tasted a lemon. "Is Agent Morgan still slipping you some of his files? I'll have a talk with him about it next week."

Frightened that his friend was going to get in trouble for no reason, Reid quickly spoke up, "No. Don't do that."

The battleaxe looked down on him from her perch with one eyebrow raised up high.

"I-I offered to do them for him. I took some of Agent Rossi's too. They…they were all talking about their plans for the weekend and I wanted to help them get out early," the young agent explained.

"And you don't have any plans for yourself this weekend?" she inquired.

Spencer looked down at the ground and scuffed his shoe against the carpet. He bit his lip for a moment before saying, "No, ma'am. Not really. They all had plans with their friends and family. I've only got a date with a few books."

Due to the fact that his eyes were still trained on the floor, the genius missed Strauss's wince when she realized her faux pas.

Wishing to push past their conversation's awkward lull, the woman cleared her throat loudly and said, "Well, since you have nothing to rush home to, why don't I tell the director that you're still here and available for a meeting."

"Um…sure."

Strauss raised her eye at his casual reply.

Realizing his mistake, Spencer stood up straighter and stated firmly, "That would be fine, ma'am. I can meet with him now."

She crisply nodded her head and walked back into her office. Reid stood down on the bullpen floor and furrowed his brow, racking his brain for a reason why the director would want a meeting with him. His mind hadn't even processed twenty possibilities when Strauss reappeared with a leather portfolio grasped in her hands. "Let's go," she ordered as she stalked down the stairs and over to the elevators.

Reid scurried along behind her and entered the lift. He stood next to her, shoulder to shoulder, and watched as she punched in the button for the ninth floor.

"So, what does the director want to meet with me about?" Spencer asked as the door swished shut.

The young man saw Strauss's reflection in the mirrored door flinch upon hearing his question. She blinked her eyes slowly and swallowed a breath of air before answering, "He has heard alot about you and wanted to meet you."

Reid recognized that the section chief was not telling him the whole truth but he decided not to push her. Instead he just nodded his head and stared at the numbers above the doors.

The trip up only lasted about thirty seconds and before Reid knew it the two BAU agents were walking through the dimly lit ninth floor foyer. Strauss led him over to the glass doors that separated the director's suite from the rest of the floor and tapped a code into the keypad embedded in the wall. A click sounded throughout the hallway right before Erin pulled open one of the two frosted glass doors.

She didn't look behind her before marching into the reception area. There were two illuminated floor lamps framing the door to the director's office which was positioned to the left of his secretary's desk. Strauss walked over to the door and knocked on it before opening it and announcing, "Sir. Are you ready?"

"Yes, yes. Come in," a gruff voice called from behind the oak door. Strauss waved her hand at Reid and ushered him into the room.

Reid walked hesitantly into the office and cleared his throat, calling the attention of the fifty year old man on the phone to him.

The new director looked up from his call and gestured to the set of chairs that were sitting vacant in front of him. "Yes…they're here now. We'll discuss the details later," he stated firmly before hanging up the phone without a goodbye. He then stood up from his seat and straightened his suit. "Erin. Dr. Reid, please have a seat."

"Director," Strauss acknowledged as she sat down in a leather chair.

Spencer cautiously followed her lead, but instead of sitting back comfortably in the chair he perched his gangly body on the edge of the cushion. "Director, you wanted to see me?"

The older man's eyes narrowed as they searched the young agent's face. His harsh look remained firmly in place when he replied, "Yes, Dr. Reid. That is correct. But first, let's get formalities out of the way." He walked around his desk and reached out his hand, thrusting it into the boy's face. "Though I'm sure you've heard of me already, I'm Eugene Bryant, the newest director of the FBI."

"Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. It's nice to finally meet you and congratulations on your promotion," the younger man said formally, forcing himself to clasp the other man's hand and shake it.

The man nodded his head but did not return Reid's pleasantries. Instead he strode back around his desk and took a seat in his wingback chair.

Quickly realizing that this wasn't a social call, Reid straightened his back and put on a stoic face, determined not to show any emotion. "How can I be of service to you, Sir?"

Director Bryant glanced over to Strauss and gave her a tightlipped smile before turning back to Reid. He brought his hands together and clasped them, setting them down firmly on the shining mahogany surface. "Well, Dr. Reid, as you are well aware of, I've only been in this position for the past four months. I have been trying to quickly acclimate myself to this job over that period of time. My predecessor left me a list of items to take care of first and it hasn't been until the last week or so that I've finally been able to turn my attention to the priorities that I set forth to the board when they were interviewing me."

The genius nodded, listening attentively but now quite sure where the man was going.

The stern man paused and trained an intense gaze right on Reid. "One of which was the utilization of abnormals."

Spencer felt his heart drop down to the tip of his toes at the man's ominous revelation. "U-utilization, Sir?" Reid asked, unable to hold back the stutter.

"Yes, I feel that abnormals and their special abilities are a neglected resource. The people that fall under the abnormal category have so much to offer our organization and I feel the former director failed the FBI by not trying to incorporate their unique attributes," he expounded seriously.

"And what does that have to do with me?" Reid asked, though he already feared he knew the answer.

Director Bryant gave Spencer a thin smile that crinkled his aging eyes. "I'd like to include you in the abnormality study that I'm having our research department begin on Monday," he stated, not beating around the bush.

Reid flushed at the man's bluntness and broke his gaze. Butterflies started fluttering around in his stomach at the mere mention of his mutation, let alone the thought of it being studied. "I-I don't –"

"I'd like to see them," the director stated before Reid could finish his sentence.

"What?"

"I want to see your wings."

Spencer gave a nervous laugh and glanced over to Strauss who refused to make eye contact with him. Seeing that he wasn't going to get any support from his section chief, Reid hardened his eyes and straightened his spine. "No."

Not used to being told no, the man stood up and leaned forward on his hands. "Dr. Reid, that wasn't a request."

"And this isn't a show," Reid spat, standing up and grabbing his satchel. "With all due respect director, I will not be participating in your study and I'd like for my abnormality to never be mentioned again," the agent ordered, the words feeling like sandpaper as they left his mouth.

The genius was halfway to the door when Bryant let out a nasty chuckle. "I've got news for you, Dr. Reid," he sneered, "You're already signed up for a spot."

Spencer turned around and glared at the man. "That's highly unlikely seeing as I have yet to sign any sort of transfer request or letter of intent."

"But you did sign this," Erin Strauss stated, pulling a set of stapled papers out of her portfolio.

The boy's hazel eyes squinted as they glanced at the packet before moving up to search Strauss's apathetic face for any sign of emotion. "That's my contract," he acknowledged. "What does that have to do with this?"

Behind his desk, a shit-eating grin formed on the director's face. "Now, now, Dr. Reid. I know all about your eidetic memory; so don't play dumb with me. I'm sure you can recall a line or two that mentions something about the use of your abnormality."

"Section five, clause two – If there is ever a need for the agent to utilize his abnormality to save the lives of others he is obligated to do so," Reid recited. "That's it. And this, I assure you, does not qualify under that clause."

"That's where you're wrong, agent. By allowing the FBI's research team to analyze and explore your anatomy you will be saving countless lives. We'll be taking our findings from you and the other two abnormals that work here and use it to reach out to some of our more aggressive agents. We're going to engineer our own super agents that will be able to handle anything they come across in the field. Now don't you want to be a part of that?"

Horrified, Reid backed up toward the doorway a few more steps. "No. You're insane. No one is going to want to be turned into an abnormal. And I won't let you use me as a blueprint to do so."

"I've already found a few willing participants," he informed the young man. "And you will let us use you – you've already signed the paperwork." Bryant reached down to his phone and snatched up the receiver. He pressed down three buttons with his meaty fingers and said, "Now."

Seconds later the doors behind Spencer burst open causing the genius to whirl around to face the entry of four large agents. Knowing that these men were here for him, Reid started to look around for a new escape route.

"There is no way out, Dr. Reid. Now I suggest you follow orders or this is going to be very hard on you."

"No way am I going willingly," Reid hissed.

"Dr. Reid," Strauss called, "be reasonable. Just go with these men and your part of the research will be over in no time."

Spencer spun around and glared at her. "How could you do this to me? You knew what he was going to do and you helped him set the trap. You know the team will never stand for this. What are you going to tell them? They'll know that I didn't just up and transfer overnight. They'll look for me. They're my family and they're not just going to let me go without saying a word," he growled at the woman.

The section chief's stoic mask slipped a little at his use of the word family. She looked over at the young man that she had watch develop into a capable agent over the years and said, "They won't look for you because they will be told that you are on a top secret assignment for the director. Every single bit of information about you has be wiped from the system so that not even Miss Garcia can find a trace of it. As of right now, you are officially relieved of your duty to the BAU and reassigned to the biometric analysis division. Your location and mission will remain confidential until the time that the researchers feel they've exhausted all avenues of exploration with you."

"With me? You mean with my body," Reid retorted with a snarl.

Erin didn't answer him; instead she took his contract and tucked it back into her portfolio.

"Now that that's all straightened out, shall we?" the director chimed in, waving his hand at the agents behind Spencer.

The men stepped forth and grabbed the former BAU agent by his biceps. Reid tried to pull his arms out of their grips but he wasn't strong enough.

"Hold him steady," Bryant ordered as he walked up to Reid and caressed his face with the silver blades of the scissors that he now held in his hands. "Turn him around."

The agents swiftly followed orders and forced Reid into a kneeling position. Spencer kept jerking at his arms but felt the addition of more hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stay in place. Moments later the genius felt his shirt being removed from the waistband of his pants, followed by cold steel touching his exposed skin. The snick-snick-snick sound of the scissors cutting through his clothes nearly brought him to tears as his dignity was being stripped away in front of all of these people.

A gasp sounded in the room when his shirt fell open to reveal two rounded white bumps the size of cereal bowls positioned underneath Spencer's shoulder blades. The white skin was stretched tight over the protrusions and there were red marks of irritation where the terminal phalanx of his newly forming wings were trying to break through his tender flesh.

"Where are your wings?" the director asked angrily.

Reid let out a sardonic laugh in spite of his current situation and said, "I get them ground down every year. I have no wings, so to speak."

Strauss stood up and walked over to the kneeling agent. "I told you this, Sir. He goes around this time every year to have them surgically sanded down."

"I-I thought there would be more to see after a year."

Another derisive laugh escaped his lips. "I've never let achieve more than a year's growth. What you see here is what you get."

There was a brief silent pause before the director started speaking again. "I guess we got to you just in time. From this point forth, there will be no more sanding. We will monitor their growth and take meticulous notes of their formation. Now take him down to the lab, agents. Show him to his new room and get him ready for Monday."

The rough hands forced the young agent to his feet and ushered him to the director's private elevator in the back of his office. Reid looked up at his new nemesis and called out to him before the doors closed.
"This isn't going to work. I will find a way out. And when I do -."

Eugene Bryant flashed a big toothy grin at the abnormal and cut him off. "Yeah, yeah. I'm shaking in my boots."